TITLE:  We Got Game
AUTHOR:  Michele Lellouche (mdanl@bellsouth.net)
RATING:  PG
DISCLAIMER:  I don't own them.  Rupert does and since he's busy with his
divorce, he won't notice.  CC, DD and GA also have a good claim as does
Fox and 1013.  I treated them nice, they'll be back soon.

TIMELINE/SPOILERS: Set during 1995, when Michael Jordan returned to the
Bulls, so that's X's second season.   Mentions of "E.B.E,"  "One Breath,"
"Tooms," and "End Game" in passing.

SUMMARY:  A bit of b-ball fun for Moose and Squirrel.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written back when Michael had just returned to the
game, only fitting it should be posted when he's retired.  And no, this was
not inspired by "Two Fathers"....



        WE GOT GAME
                By Michele Lellouche
                        mdanl@ibm.net


        "Hello?"
        "Hey, Scully, it's me."
        "Hi."  She folded her fingers into her place in Midnight in the
Garden of Good and Evil. "What's going on?"
        "I have a treasure more valuable than the Holy Grail, arriving by
FedEx tomorrow."
        Now she was intrigued.  He had the unmistakable lilt of successful
hunting in his voice that she hadn't heard in far too long. "Can I get a
hint?"
        "It's sports related.  And that's giving it away."
        "You got Bulls tickets?"  She couldn't keep the incredulity out of
her voice.  Mulder's network of sports fans who owed him amazed her. She
often wondered what connected all of them, decided it had to be UFOs.
        "Did I get Bulls tickets?  Friday night, courtside, United
Arena.  MJ's first home game. His Airness vs. the Shaq Attack."
        "You must've sold your soul for those."
        "Yeah, I need to talk to a US attorney about the validity of
contracts signed in blood."  His pause was imperceptible.  "Skinner's
always after us to take a vacation...wanna go to Chicago?"
        How long had it been since she had heard him that happy?  Even if
she hadn't been a basketball fan, the idea of being at such a media event
was attraction itself.  A vacation sounded attractive, too.  Still, she
had to put up a token fight.  "Can we go see Oprah?"
        "She tapes every day now, I called.  We could leave tomorrow
afternoon, make a week out of it."
        Scully hid her smile even though there was no one to see it. There
were days he still amazed her.  "Don't take this the wrong way, but you are
absolutely the only man I know who would be thrilled to see Oprah."
        "And you're the only woman I would share this with.  C'mon,
Scully, we need a break.  We've been good warriors, we've earned this."
        Sometimes his voice could break her heart or take her where she
would never go on her own.  "When do you want to leave?"

        Scully was glad it was dusk--otherwise she couldn't've secretly
enjoyed Mulder's near giddiness as they waited in line for the arena to
open. It was if he had lost his distant pain, at least for tonight.  She
was infected by it.  How long had it been since they had just had fun? 
Her first day back in November when they had sat in the Spy Club,
surrounded by Republicans, cheering North going down and their own
fortunes rising?  New Year's, when they had met by chance and ducked their
respective parties to toast in 1995 on their old bench? Even those nights
had been tinged...She had to go back before the Erlenmeyer Flask and
Purity Control, before tracking the EBE from Tennessee.  Someone down the
line arguing about Shaq versus Mike one-on-one reminded her that the last
time they had been totally happy and at peace involved basketball, too;
two weeks before they had gone to Tennessee, a weekend FBI intramural
two-on-two in which Mulder had been determined to have them participate...
        "No?"
        Anyone else would have read his tone as unconcerned, but she was
attuned to his nuances now.  Don't you dare plead with me, Fox Mulder. She
crossed her arms on her desk.  "Mulder, I haven't played basketball since
college.  I'm too short, especially to play against some of the guys
who'll go out."
        "Muggsy Bogues of the Charlotte Hornets is five-three."
        "He's also talented."
        He rocked his chair down, moved to lean on her desk.  "We can take
these guys, Scully, I've seen them, I've played with them.  Most of them
are slam dunk artists, no clue on defense, no teamwork."
        His eyes were alight--he looked fifteen years younger.  No, twenty
or more.  Some time before Samantha was taken.  The light was akin to that
he had on a case, without the underlying obsessive drive.  She tried to
resist getting caught in his fervor.  "Brains and teamwork only get you so
far, Mulder, that's why you don't see Cinderella teams getting out of the
Sweet Sixteen that often."
        "So what if we don't win--let's give them a run they'll never
forget."  He dropped to one knee beside her desk to look in her eyes and
she caught her breath silently.  She had learned to trust him these last
few months, learned his on-the-edge-of-insanity act was just that.  He was
brilliant but so used to people reacting as if he was deluded, he played
into it, turned it back on them.  She could see how much he wanted this.
        "They won't expect us to be any threat."  She began agreeing with
his insane reasoning.
        "They'll get sloppy, stupid, showboat and we'll be past them and
gone before they know what hit them."   He grinned up at her,
lighthearted, as she hadn't seen him in far too long, as she hadn't felt
in far too long.  "I promise--you play with me, no X-Files for a week."
        "An offer I can't refuse," she said softly.  "You really think we
have a shot?"
        He looked at her without managing to look at her.  "It scares me,
Scully, we move together as a team, like I've never moved with any other
partner.  We can do this."
        She was caught off-guard by his words, his absolute faith and
trust. "Then let's do it."
        From the first practice, when Mulder started them with a simple
drill, it had been scary.  Within the first half-hour, they seemed to have
been playing together for as long as they had been partners.
        "We work as a team, it carries to everything," he grinned, passing
her the ball.  It was deathly cold on an outdoor court at an Alexandria
high school but Scully was having a blast.  Years of Terrapin basketball
had soaked into her blood, even if she couldn't always translate it into
practice, and Mulder's style was straight New York Knicks, albeit from
about eight different incarnations.  Neither had the height for an inside
game full of slam-dunks, so they concentrated on shooting, precision
patterns and fakes, and speed.  That session had carried to the others;
they pushed through days of paperwork and routine investigations to get
out on the court after work, on any court they could find.
        ...Nothing but net, a clean arc through the late afternoon
sunlight dancing with dust.  Catch the rebound, set up another shot.
Instead, she dished it crosscourt, knowing he would be there to take it,
even if he had not been a minute before.  He ran a showy fake pattern,
pivoted and connected for three.
        Scully smiled to see Mulder catch his own rebound and go out
again. They found an indoor court for their last practice--the school's
team would soon return but for now they had the old gym to themselves.
        Another three pointer and she caught this rebound.  "So how's the
field look?"
        "Perfect so far.  With the right draw, we should make it to the
second round easy, maybe the third."
        "Probably what our opponents are thinking.  Am I the only woman?"
        "Jan Hurley's playing."
        "Well, I'm still the shortest person playing."
        He paused at her tone.  "Second thoughts?"
        "No, no second thoughts," she smiled.  She was surprisingly sad
that it would soon end, for the tournament was this weekend.    She felt
as if they had grown closer to each other by something other than the fire
they had been through.  Playing with him had bonded them in a way she
hadn't experienced just working with him.  It had been fun to hear him
swear, see him frustrated without their lives being at stake, catch his
hidden smiles when she outdueled him to the basket, watch him move with
more grace than she had seen before.  She could conjure the young Mulder,
a smart mouthed jock with brains.
        "It's going to be fun--and we haven't had any in awhile."
        She nodded at his admission.  They hadn't and she didn't see any
prospects for any in the future; it was if she had been pulled under by
this strange quest.  One wag had said they were Don Quixote and Sancha
Panza...and she had never wanted to deck someone so much in her life.
Without her realizing it, she had become Mulder's champion, bristling when
their investigations were belittled and wondering anew why he put up with
it.  She didn't realize she was drifting until he bounced the ball out of
her hands in a steal and took off.
        "You're going to pay for that, Mulder!" she howled as she took off
after him.

        "Sundance, I can't believe you couldn't find anybody to team
with," Scully said.  The tall black agent had arranged the tournament,
managed to get everyone organized at one of George Washington's gyms as
its team was on the road.  Scully was one of the milling players in the
entrance to the court from the locker rooms and she could see the others
wondering at her in UM sweats.
        "Scarpetta, I can't believe you let Delaware talk you into this,"
a mystery fan, John "Sundance" Redford had dubbed them in honor of
Patricia Cornwell's coroner Kay Scarpetta and Jonathan Kellerman's
psychologist Alex Delaware.
        "You haven't seen us in action."  All initial reluctance was gone
once she saw the draw.  In the first round, they were up against Scully's
Academy classmate Tom Colton and a DC agent who had brought him down >from
Baltimore.  They owed Colton for their near disaster with serial killer
Eugene Tooms.
        "Delaware, you're crazy," Redford greeted Mulder as he came up to
them.  Scully grinned at his Oxford sweats.
        "So they tell me.  You're the referee?"
        "And announcer-- so I need heights and colleges, then go out for a
warm-up--take the backcourt side."
        "I'm going to enjoy this," Scully muttered to him as they trotted
past the stunned looks in the stands.  "You can say 'I told you so.'"
        "Great, I get to so rarely," he caught a ball from one of the kids
and passed it to her.
        After fifteen minutes of shootaround, Redford strode to center
court with the game ball, wearing a head mike someone had smuggled out of
Tactical.
        "All right, this is it.  Welcome to the Winter '94 Two-on-Two,
hopefully a new tradition for those of us here in DC.  The draw is posted
down court--we'll be going four rounds to the finals--one elimination like
the Big Dance.  First up--coming down from the far end, one of only two
male-female teams we've got here today.  In the lead, at six-foot-one,
from St. Edmund Hall and All Souls College, Oxford University, that's Fox
'Spooky' Mulder.  His teammate, at five-foot-two, a Terrapin from the
University of Maryland, Dana 'Doctor D' Scully!"
        Scully mouthed "Doctor D?" at Redford as he introduced Colton and
his partner Johnson.
        "You want Colton?"  Mulder asked as they lined up.
        Scully grinned nastily at her old classmate.  "Sure--you've got to
take the jump anyway."
        Colton lined up facing her as Mulder went over for the jump.
"Dana, we're gonna wipe the floor with you two."
        "The way Tooms almost wiped the floor with us?"
        "You're not gonna let me forget that.  It was your screwy
partner--"
        "I don't know, Tom, somebody nearly rips my liver out because you
overruled Mulder's orders, I tend to remember something like that."
 She was watching the jump and when Mulder moved, she faked, leaving
Colton flatfooted and canted the wrong direction.  Mulder got fingertips
on the ball, sent it her way and she caught it, driving in before Colton
came swarming at her.  She dished it back out to her partner, who
connected on a fadeaway jumper.  The crowd was still in shock but
gradually beginning to cheer when Colton inbounded, furious.
        "Lucky," Tom hissed at Mulder as Fox he switched to guarding him.
        Mulder moved right on top of him, harassing him every step, like
his beloved Knicks.  "C'mon, Colton, let's see you wipe the floor with us."
        Scully was trying to get the ball from Johnson, who was ignoring
her, a mistake as she made off with it.  Mulder charged at Johnson going
after her, dragging Colton behind and allowing Dana to get off her shot,
which none of them thought she'd hit, except her partner, who shouted an
obnoxious "Yesss!" right in Colton's face as it took nothing but net.
        "You said it--no defense," she breathed to Mulder as Colton
inbounded again.  "But they'll be expecting us now."
        "You can't beat us if you don't know how.  If you can't play as a
team, it doesn't suddenly come to you in a vision."
        "Maybe to you it would," Colton growled.
        Mulder smirked.  "Damn, Scully, he figured out our secret."
        "Play nice out there," Redford cautioned, seeing the Alpha male
face-off brewing.
        "Hey, trash talk's legal," Mulder called back.  "Just a nice,
friendly game of 21."
        Until it got to 18-15, advantage Mulder/Scully.  The trash talk
escalated and Colton nearly ran Scully over in a flagrant foul.  Mulder
had never expected to have to pull his partner back from a near fistfight.
        "Both ends, both ends.  Put 'em away," he cautioned as he handed
her the ball.
        "C'mon, c'mon,"  Colton was staring death at her.  Scully smiled
sweetly, shot, and didn't even need to look to see that it counted;
Mulder's war whoop was all the reassurance she needed.  She made the back
half, then Mulder stole the inbound pass, muscled in for the lay-up, and
they were onto the next round.

        Their brilliant run ended against two HRT members, both of whom
towered over Mulder.  Still, Scully had to admit they had not gone down
 without a fight--it was 21-16, and the quarterfinals.  She half expected
Mulder to carry her off the court on his shoulders--his smile was Final
Four quality.  She matched it as they headed back to the locker room.
        They collapsed on a bench outside to catch their breath.  The
second he did, Mulder grinned insolently.  "I told you you'd enjoy it."
        She laughed in spite of herself.  "You were right--we gave them a
run to remember.  They'll expect us next time."
        "Next time we'll have been partners longer and we'll be even more
attuned than we are now," he said softly.
        She stared at him a long moment, struck by his tone, and the cold
chill that suddenly hit her.  No, she was couldn't imagine them not
 partners. Covering the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach, she shoved
one sweaty shoulder.  "C'mon, you smell gamier than your namesake."
        "For that, I should steal your clothes."
        His smile was so evil she grinned saucily back.  "Word of
warning--never tangle with a doctor--we know too many ways to make your
life miserable without leaving a trace."

        ...She jumped when he ducked his head in front of her, trying to
get her attention.
        "Drifting--" he scolded with a smile only she could recognize.
        "We're not on duty," she returned.
        His tone softened to their usual half whisper.  "What were you
thinking about?"
        "Our brilliant run in the intramurals last year.  We missed this
year's."  They had been in Alaska then, recovering from the entanglement
with the alien bounty hunter.
        "Sundance was heartbroken.  He said he'll probably try for one in
April or May since everybody was out on cases."
        "We'll have to see if we are better now that we've been partners
longer."  Even as she said it, Scully felt that familiar chill steal over
her again.  It must have shown on her face, because Mulder looked
concerned.
        "What's wrong?"
        "Nothing," she shook it off, convinced she was just cold in the
Chicago chill.  She managed a smile.  "C'mon, Jordan's back, we're
partners, what could be wrong?"

end.