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"Malia, are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Of course I do," Malia huffs against the back of Kira's neck, chin digging just slightly into Kira's shoulder. "Haven't you ever seen the pictures Dad has above the fireplace?"
Kira is two hundred percent sure that in those pictures, Malia is holding a tee-ball bat and wearing a jersey that goes down to her knees, but still, even if Malia never graduated to actual softball, she's still held a bat more than Kira has.
"Okay," she says, stepping her feet further apart and wrapping her fingers around the smooth, wooden handle of the bat, "so it's hips before hands?"
"Other way around," Malia says, bracketing Kira's hands with her own, slightly larger ones. Her breath is warm on Kira's neck and Kira has to try very hard to resist leaning back into it. "Hands before hips." She adjusts Kira's fingers slightly, moving them a little further apart, lingering a little longer than is probably strictly necessary.
"Hands before hips," Kira repeats obligingly. Malia nods and somehow, the already minimal space between them shrinks even further. Malia's arms curve around Kira's hips in order to reach the bat and her whole body is a line of warmth pressed against Kira's back, from shoulders to toes.
"Think you're ready to try?" Malia asks, cheek rubbing softly against Kira's.
"Sure," Kira says, tightening her grip on the bat. She's a little nervous about having a ball barreling in the general direction of her face but thankfully, when the throw comes, she has more than enough time to react. With Malia's hands still curved around hers, she swings confidently.
She misses by a mile.
"Oops," she says quietly, glancing back over her shoulder as the ball bounces gently off the dusty ground behind home base.
"Want to try again?" Malia asks, pressing a kiss just underneath Kira's ear.
"Shouldn't we be leaving soon?" Kira asks. They're supposed to be going out to dinner tonight and if her guess about what restaurant Malia chose is correct, the place really doesn't like when people are late for their reservations.
"We've still got some time," Malia replies with a shrug. "Besides, I paid Talia for the hour. Might as well take advantage of it." She waves out into the field at her young cousin, who is standing at the pitcher mound. Talia simply grins and picks up another ball, chosen from the dozens littering the ground around her.
This throw comes in a little slower, and Kira is positive that she'll be able to connect with it.
She puts her hands over her hips and swings.
The bat connects with nothing but thin air.
"It's not as easy as it looks," Malia says. "Do you want to leave-"
"Ssh," Kira murmurs, twisting her head just far enough to brush her lips against Malia's before adjusting her stance slightly and nodding at Talia out in the field. "I'm playing baseball."
It takes six more tries for her to hit the ball, and they end up being fifteen minutes late for dinner and getting glared at by an absolutely terrifying waiter.
Even with her cheeks burning hot from embarrassment, Kira can't think of any other way that she'd rather spend their four year anniversary.