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Summary
She walked straight across the pitch, hands out of her pockets and hanging passively at her sides. Relaxed, unbothered, but purposeful. He didn’t move except to square his shoulders at her approach, like an animal trying to make itself look larger in the face of a threat.
She stopped at the pitcher’s mound, close enough to speak without raising her voice, but still out of reach. He stayed seated on the dugout bench.
He tilted his face towards her. “Hello, special agent.”
“Hi, baby.”Series
- Part 3 of She's My Collar