xf s6

7

Hips before hands.

“All right, what you may find as you concentrate on hitting that little ball… The rest of the world just fades away…all your everyday, nagging concerns. The ticking of your biological clock. How you probably couldn’t afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman’s salary. How you threw away a promising career in medicine…to hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner. Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I… I’m sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours.”

“Shut up, Mulder. I’m playing baseball.”