Wunderkind

1.20-Hole Puncher

*Mentions of past sexual assault, threat of sexual assault, mentions of past self-harm*

BEHIND THE FENCE AT THE BALL PARK

NOT WHERE JACK WANTED TO BE DURING THE GAME

Jack yells encouragement as Mac steps up to bat. The annual softball game with the local NSA post is...well, things aren't looking good. Jack hopes Mac's crazy physics skills extend to calculating pitch speed and angle on the fly. He's good at pool, he should be good at this too, right?

Jack's not allowed to play. His arm still has two weeks of recovery time; this is why he really, really hates broken bones. He tried to get Dr. Modi to approve softball as a therapy regimen. She refused. "I do not want to see you coming back into my office for another six weeks because you slid into home and broke that arm again," she'd told him.

He doesn't really want to spend more time in PT, but he really wanted to get in there and play. And even though he knows it's probably illogical, he thinks maybe if he was playing, they wouldn't be losing quite so badly.

It's not that the team isn't good. He's been polishing Riley's game for years, Bozer's shockingly a pretty skilled pitcher, and Jill Morgan played softball in college. But that doesn't mean the Phoenix isn't getting their asses kicked out on the field.

Cage is proving surprisingly poor at the game, but Jack thinks it's probably because where she comes from, they play cricket. Apparently the rules to that are different enough that she's struggling. And she's definitely not going to be allowed to be the sub pitcher any longer.

"Come on, Mac, you got this!" he shouts. Riley's on second, if Mac gets in a good hit they might still get two runs this inning. The pitcher winds up and throws...

And Mac swings hard, catching the ball nicely and sending it over into left field. He's already running, and so is Riley.

Unfortunately, the NSA team has a very good outfielder. He snaps the ball up and tosses it to the second baseman, who tags Mac out, and then throws the ball to home. "Riley! Slide, get down!" Jack yells. She does, but it's too late. She's out too.

Mac and Riley look pretty dejected as they plod back to the benches, Riley slapping dust out of her shorts and shirt. Jack decides it's time for an old-fashioned Dalton pep talk.

"Now listen up. Last time we played the NSA Listening Post Number 27 Panthers, we were pretty pathetic."

Matty cuts him off. "We're fourteen runs down, Jack, I think pathetic applies here too."

"Whoa, whoa, little less Debbie Downer, boss lady, hey? We still have a chance to win." Jack purposely avoids looking at the scoreboard and seeing just how big a liar he is.

Mac, of course, looks directly at it, then turns to Jack with a frown. "Uhh...with the runs, the outs, the innings...I'd say our current win expectancy is..."

"Okay, okay, C-3PO, don't tell me the odds. The important word in that sentence is "expectancy". We gotta expect to win or we're not gonna be able to do it." He can tell they're not convinced. He's not convinced. "Now softball is a team sport. And if you take "team" apart...you have "me"." He looks around, pointing at each of them. "You're a me, and you're a me, and..." He stops at Matty's withering glare. "I just meant, all those me's need that extra 't' and 'a' and then they're a team. A winning team."

"Yeah, well, what does the 't' and 'a' stand for then?" Bozer asks.

"Ummm.... 'Try' and...uh..."

"Ardor?" Jill asks. When Jack frowns at her, she shrugs. "I read a lot of harlequins..." Her cheeks go almost as red as her jersey.

"Okay, we'll go with that cause I can't think of anything better." Jack starts tugging people's hands into a circle. "On three, "Trial and Ardor"."