Story Notes:
This story was inspired by John and Paul’s planned ballparks-of-the-East-Coast tour and is set sometime later in 2016, after they’ve both recovered from the plague or whatever we’re calling it.
John’s Cubs fandom is based on dialogue from the ep that aired 1/2/15. Yes, I am aware that the Cubs and the Orioles don’t actually play regular season games. Call it artistic license.
Author’s Chapter Notes:
The NC-17 rating is for later chapters, so don’t get your hopes up here!
Perfect day for baseball, John thought, settling into his sun-warmed seat with satisfaction. A few months ago he and Paul had both been in the hospital fighting for their lives, and tonight they were at Camden Yards preparing to watch the Cubs take down the Orioles. Damn, life was good. He turned to grin at his son and found him grinning back.
“You picked great seats, kid.”
They were sitting behind the visitor dugout, fifteen rows back in the last two seats at the edge of their section. The seat to John’s left was actually still unoccupied, which was unusual this close to the field fifteen minutes before the first pitch.
“Thanks,” Paul said, “I’m finally starting to get used to being up here instead of down there.”
It was the sixth day of their trip, and this was the third game they’d seen, having already watched the Cubs blow out the White Sox at Wrigley Field on day two and the Pirates struggle to take down the Mariners in a very rainy eleven-inning contest at PNC Park on day four. They were taking tomorrow off from traveling (Paul’s idea), but the following day they’d be at Citi Field, and then it would be a quick drive up to Fenway for two games in two days, then home to Salem after possibly the best father-son road trip ever undertaken.
John was having the time of his life, but he’d be glad to see home again, too. Well, glad to see Doc again, anyway. Twelve days hadn’t sounded like that long when he and Paul were caught up in their planning, but in practice it was turning out to be longer than his heart cared to be separated from its other half. They talked at least once a day–or they had, anyway, until she hadn’t answered this afternoon–but a phone call wasn’t the same as being with her.
“Dad?”
Belatedly, John realized he’d spaced out and missed whatever Paul had just said.
“Sorry. I was just, uhm…”
“Missing Marlena?”
John blinked at him, then laughed ruefully. “Didn’t realize I was that obvious.”
“You’re not, usually, but you sounded kind of concerned about her not answering her phone earlier, and it’s not that hard to put two and two together.”
“Oh, that. Nah, I’m sure that’s nothing. She’s probably just busy. I’ll try her again after the game.” Because there was really no need to miss the first pitch trying to reach her, he told himself firmly. Really. No need at all.
“Hey, if you want to go try her again–”
“No, no,” John said quickly, and returned his full attention to Paul. “Sorry, I think you said something I missed.”
Paul looked a little amused. “Strangely enough, I was actually just commenting that there’s a lady right up there who looks a lot like Marlena.”
John turned, following the general direction of Paul’s gesture. It didn’t take him long to spot the lady in question, who had stopped on the walkway two sections back toward home plate to help a young man who had more children than hands navigate the stairs with an armload of sodas. It was exactly the sort of thing Doc would have done, John thought with a pang.
Aloud, he said only, “That’s a fact.”
Not that Doc would be caught dead in a Cubs jersey and a snapback, but otherwise the resemblance was striking. The woman had a thick honey-blond ponytail pulled through the back of the cap, and even her movements were uncannily familiar. Then she reached up to hand one of the drinks to the little boy on the young man’s shoulders, and her jersey rode up a little, and John found himself appreciatively eyeing the particular way her jeans molded themselves to the curve of–
He jerked his eyes back up to her face, honestly shocked at himself. I really have been away from home too long.
He was even more embarrassed a moment later when the woman turned to look right at him, almost as if she’d felt him looking. Then her eyes flicked to Paul, and she raised her arm and waved.
Paul waved back, and John turned to stare at him as the truth finally sank in. “Oh, my God. Is that really…”
“Yep,” Paul confirmed, laughing outright now at his Dad’s gobsmacked expression. “And now you know why she didn’t answer.” He stood to let John out. “Go on.”
John scrambled out from between the rows of seats and started up the stairs. He made it to the walkway without taking his eyes off her, then lost her twice in the throng of people before finally she was right there in front of him, all Cubs gear and ear-to-ear smile.
“Hey, sailor.”
He swept her into his arms and hugged her hard enough to lift her off her feet. “I can’t believe you’re really here. How did you…?” He didn’t even know what to ask.
She laughed into his shoulder. “I had help. You might have noticed that Paul doesn’t seem surprised.”
“You two had this planned all along?” He set her down and laced his fingers through hers, unwilling to risk losing her in the crowd for even an instant.
“Mm-hmm. I believe Paul has mentioned that he has other plans tonight?”
John nodded, unable to stop staring at her. “Yeah, he’s going somewhere with a couple of his old buddies after the game–their flight’s not ‘til sometime tomorrow.”
“And you?”
He laughed. “I was gonna call it an early night and sit around in my hotel room missing you.”
“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” she said confidently. “But first, I believe we have a baseball game to watch.”
“Uh-uh. First things first,” he said, and ducked his head to kiss her. It was more of a logistical challenge than usual, owing to the fact that they were both wearing ballcaps, but they managed it well enough for several passersby to suggest (in uniquely Baltimore fashion) that perhaps they might like to get a room.
“They do have a point, honey,” she murmured when he finally released her.
“Why, Marlena Evans, are you blushing?”
“Probably.” She giggled. “Come on, let’s go sit down. And try not to do anything will embarrass Paul too much.”
“Or land us on the JumboTron,” he joked back.
They managed to behave themselves for the duration of the game. Actually, the next three hours were some of the happiest of John’s life. A great ballgame, perfect weather, and two of the people he loved most in the world. He was pretty sure he hadn’t done anything good enough to deserve this, but he’d sure as hell take it.
He and Paul settled Marlena between the two of them and did their best to make sure she understood the action on the field, and she peppered them with questions and cheered at the appropriate times and generally did a remarkably good job of pretending to care about baseball. It took John until the top of the fifth inning to realize that maybe her enjoyment of the game wasn’t entirely feigned. She made an offhand comment to Paul about Addison Russell’s lousy on-base percentage and his place in the batting order, and John nearly toppled out of his seat.
“Wait, you know Addison Russell’s OBP?”
“Well, not the actual number, no,” she clarified, not looking away from the field, “but I know it isn’t good.”
“You don’t follow baseball.”
Marlena laughed. “Honey, I live in the house with you. I follow baseball whether I want to or not. The Cubs, at least.”
“You already know a lot of what we’ve been telling you, don’t you?” Paul asked, sounding as chagrined as John suddenly felt.
“Some,” she admitted, smiling. “I mean, I know who everybody is, at least on our side–I know who plays which position. But the double play, now, that was completely confusing. That I appreciated your explaining. It happened too fast, and it’s not like on TV where they replay it four times in slow motion.”
“Yeah, it can be a little–”
Then Dexter Fowler stole second base, and they all got wrapped up in the game again, shouting themselves hoarse as the Cubs finally broke the 3-3 tie that had held since the bottom of the second.
John spent most of the seventh inning stretch taking pictures of Marlena with his phone. “No one will believe me otherwise,” he insisted until she finally objected, laughingly putting up her hands in a no-paparazzi gesture and ordering him to go find her some peanuts.
It really did turn out to be an exciting game, the Cubs narrowly hanging onto a 7-6 lead with some incredible pitching in the bottom of the ninth, and Paul took his leave of Marlena and John in a buoyant mood, heading down toward the locker room to meet up with a couple of his former teammates who hand landed with the Cubs this season and would be flying back to Chicago tomorrow.
For their part, John and Marlena took their time making their way out of the park, holding hands and walking slowly, letting the worst of the crowd go ahead of them.
“Our hotel’s not that far from here,” John offered as they finally emerged from Camden Yards, wondering whether Marlena would mind the short walk to the Marriott. It was a nice night, not too warm.
“Actually, you and I are staying somewhere else tonight,” she said, smiling impishly. “If you’re the sort of man who’s willing to follow some strange woman back to her hotel after a baseball game, that is.”
John made a show of looking her up and down. “I’m not, generally speaking, but I might make an exception for a hot blond in Cubs gear.”
Marlena laughed delightedly. “Oh, my God, it really does turn you on, doesn’t it? Me wearing the jersey.”
He bent to whisper directly into her ear. “You turn me on no matter what you’re wearing, honey, but right now I’ve got this mental picture of you in nothing but the jersey, and…well, let’s just say it’s quite the fantasy.”
“Mmm, fantasy baseball,” she purred back, giving as good as she got. “Think you can hit a home run tonight, slugger?”
“I think you’d better hurry up and get me to wherever we’re going,” he answered, nipping her ear lightly, “or I’m gonna be tempted to try for second base right here on the sidewalk.”
She giggled and drew back, setting off toward the Inner Harbor with him in tow, the pace she set brisk enough to proclaim that she was as ready for some privacy as he was. John allowed himself to be led, paying more attention to Marlena than to their route, which was why it took him until they made the turn onto Light Street to figure out their destination.
“The Hyatt Regency,” he said, drawing her to a stop and looking up at the towering hotel, then back down into Marlena’s sparkling eyes.
“You remember,” she said, not a question.
“We had one of those corner suites up top,” he answered anyway, his recall still letter-perfect even this many years later. “And I don’t think we left it once the whole three days.”
“We have the same suite this time, and the room service breakfast menu still includes Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.” She smiled at his expression, then tugged at his hand again. “Come on.”
TBC
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Black Magic
John and Marlena FanFiction
Take Me Out to the Ballgame By: susan_m
[Reviews – 4] Chapter or Story Table of Contents
– Text Size +
Author’s Chapter Notes:
Now you’ve arrived at the “good part.” LOL
This chapter is dedicated to Strawberry1 because readers who leave reviews are worth their weight in gold. Thanks–you made my day.
Also, thanks to John&Marlena_4Ever for the “you can leave your hat on” reference.
Suite fourteen twenty-five was situated on the southeast corner of the hotel’s penultimate floor. It boasted a full wall of windows and a commanding view of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and the National Aquarium. Not that the view was particularly what John remembered from their previous stay here, but it was pretty at night, and it gave him something to look at while Marlena was doing…whatever it was she was doing.
He had remained in the living area at her request, but he could hear her moving around through the open door of the bedroom, and it was growing more and more difficult to stay where he was. He was seriously considering disobeying orders just to see how she might decide to punish him when she finally spoke from the doorway.
“Cap or no cap? You didn’t really specify.”
John turned, some response on the tip of his tongue, and lost his breath entirely at the sight that greeted him.
The doctor was definitely out. The version of Marlena leaning there against the doorjamb, nude except for the unbuttoned jersey hanging open around her torso and the ballcap perched atop her head, was all woman–the woman only John was ever privileged to see.
“Cap or no cap?” she repeated, obviously enjoying his reaction.
He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, crossing the small space between them and reaching up to gently knock the cap off her now-loose hair. “You can leave your hat on some other time.”
She laughed, or started to, but John silenced her with a kiss, sinking his hands into her hair and tilting her head to suit himself. His patience was at an end, and he took her mouth with pure masculine intent, pinning her against the doorframe and kissing her until her body arched against his, until her hands clutched at his shoulders, until he was certain she was every bit as desperately turned-on as he was.
Then he let her up for air, dropped his hands to her bare ass, and ordered, “Jump.”
He carried her to the bed, which she had already turned down, and laid her back on it, coming down on top of her for another long, claiming kiss before disentangling himself and standing to shed his own clothes.
Marlena propped herself up on her elbows and watched him. She didn’t speak, but her avid gaze was a message in itself, something along the lines of Get naked and get back here.
John obeyed the unspoken command and stripped quickly, then lowered himself to cover her again, skin-to-skin this time. Her arms came up to pull him closer, and they kissed again, long and slow and hungry, until finally he broke away and began to work his way down her neck, teasing her with lips and tongue and careful teeth.
Marlena ran her nails through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and he froze, gasping. That lit him up like a firecracker, and she knew it, and she normally saved it for a moment a little farther along in the proceedings. “God, Doc, you can’t–”
“I want you,” she answered, sounding just as breathless as he felt. “Now.”
John raised his head to look into her eyes and found her looking back at him with such scorching desire that the look was like a physical caress. It made him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof, that look. This woman could have anyone she wanted, and she wanted him. Just him.
He wrapped his arms around her and rolled, reversing their positions so that she was on top, surrendering the reins to her.
She knelt up. “Watch.”
Not that John could have taken his eyes off her if he’d tried. Watching her mount him was always intensely erotic, but this was right out of one of his hottest fantasies–he was never going to look at a baseball jersey the same way again–and it was all he could do to keep still until her weight finally settled fully against him. She rocked a little, adjusting the angle, then guided his hands to her hips and began to move, looking into his eyes as if to say, Like this.
He matched her rhythm, riding rather than guiding the slow, instinctive thrust of her hips, and let her show him what she needed.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes. Like that. Just like that.”
She was so beautiful to him in these moments that it almost hurt to look at her. As if she were an angel, a goddess, some celestial being he was unworthy to see, and yet she appeared to him anyway. She came to him in this vulnerable, mortal form and allowed him to touch her, to take pleasure in her, to give her pleasure in return, to leave a part of himself inside her. It always felt like a miracle.
“I love the way you look at me.” Her eyes were half-lidded with pleasure now, her movements a little less controlled.
She released his hands, and John stroked slowly upward along her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, trailing his fingertips over her sweat-slick skin and watching goosebumps rise in their wake. Finally he reached her breasts, gently taking their weight in his palms and grazing his thumbs over her nipples.
Her entire body shuddered, and her eyes fell closed for a moment.
“No,” he said, stilling his hands. “Look at me. I want to watch you.”
She locked eyes with him again, and he rewarded her with another caress. She gave him her very best Two can play at that game, Mister look and deliberately clenched her internal muscles around him, laughing breathlessly as he groaned.
From there it became a contest of sorts, a loving game of one-upmanship to see which of them could tip the other over the edge first.
Marlena was winning right up until the moment John started talking. He knew what his voice did to her, and he used that knowledge to full advantage, looking into her eyes and telling her how sexy she was, how good she made him feel, how much he loved her, how beautiful she looked like this, how badly he wanted to watch her lose control.
Until finally he coaxed her past the point of no return…and got to watch her fall. Head bowed, back arched, shaking uncontrollably, her hands clutching at his wrists, completely outside herself for a few precious, incandescent moments.
All in total silence.
The first time she’d ever done this it had scared the hell out of him, and she’d had to reassure him after the fact that it was a good thing. A very good thing. A transcendent, out-of-body, strongest-orgasm-I’ve-ever-had thing.
He loved it now, these rare times when she went silent on him. He loved knowing he could send her to a place where she literally couldn’t speak.
She collapsed forward over his chest, and he caught her and finally allowed himself to follow her down into oblivion, coming so hard himself that bright flashes popped in his vision.
They lay panting in the aftermath, petting whatever parts of one another they could reach most easily and letting their heart rates come back down to normal.
“One of these days we’re going to kill each other,” Marlena murmured, sounding almost drunk and not at all concerned.
“Not a bad way to go,” John answered, his voice just as wrecked as hers.
They cuddled quietly for a while, trading lazy kisses as the sweat cooled on their bodies.
“We need a shower,” Marlena eventually observed, and made absolutely no motion whatsoever toward getting up.
“Your turn to carry me,” he replied, and felt her laugh.
“Seriously, do you remember the shower in this place? We could host an orgy.”
“Not sharing,” he said immediately, and tightened his hold on her. “All mine.”
“That’s a fact.”
John laughed and finally rolled them onto their sides, pushing up on one arm to smile down at her. “If I go start the water, are you actually gonna come join me?”
“Just as soon as I trust my knees to do their jobs, yes.” She stretched lazily. “Just out of curiosity, how much of that was the jersey and how much of it was just that you’d missed me?”
John pretended to give the question serious consideration. “Twenty percent jersey, thirty percent missing you, fifty percent you’re the sexiest woman alive.”
“Sweet talker.”
“You know it.” He popped her lightly on the hip with his open hand. “Come on. You’re the one who wanted a shower.”
“Call me when the water’s warm.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
TBC
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Black Magic
John and Marlena FanFiction
Take Me Out to the Ballgame By: susan_m
[Reviews – 4] Chapter or Story Table of Contents
– Text Size +
Author’s Chapter Notes:
J&M hijacked this chapter and refused to cooperate with my plans. I promise the next chapter will involve a little less talk and a lot more action.
There had been a time, John reflected as he carefully rinsed the shampoo from Marlena’s hair, when he could have made love to her in bed, then again in the shower, then again wherever else they pleased, all without so much as slowing down. Oh, to be that young again.
Then again, that younger man hadn’t fully appreciated the gift of her love, hadn’t cherished her the way John did now. He had loved her, yes, but he hadn’t known what it felt like to lose her. John knew, and as painful as that lesson had been, he wouldn’t trade the soul-deep love he felt for her today for any amount of youthful stamina.
Marlena blinked at him as he slicked her wet hair back from her eyes. “That’s an interesting look on your face. Anything you’d care to share?”
“I was thinking that if I were thirty years younger this would be a very different sort of shower.”
She laughed and pressed up on her toes to kiss him. “If you were thirty years younger, honey, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.”
“Mmmm, there is that.” He wrapped his arms around her again and turned them so that the warm water sluiced down over both of them.
“I love you just the way you are,” she said more seriously, looking up at him with what could only be described as adoration in her eyes. “I love you even more now than I loved you then, and I would’ve sworn that wasn’t possible.”
John cradled her face in his hands and lowered his forehead to rest against hers. “I feel the same way. I love you so much, sweetheart.”
She drew him down into another kiss, and they melted together, letting it deepen. Not because this kiss was a prelude to anything else but because it was a pleasure unto itself, as intimate in its own way as their earlier lovemaking.
Eventually they drew apart enough to rinse off and abandoned the palatial shower in favor of drying off. Or that was the plan, anyway. Somehow their attempts to dry each other turned into a tickle fight that ended with Marlena begging for mercy, sprawled on the bathroom floor in a nest of towels, gasping for breath as John dug his fingers into the vulnerable spots just beneath her ribcage.
“Stop, stop,” she finally pleaded, swatting at his hands until he relented and dropped down beside her, letting her breathe. “Oh, my gosh,” she managed after a minute. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
“Me neither,” he admitted, knowing he was grinning like a fool and not caring one bit.
“Feels good.”
“Mm-hmm,” he agreed, and couldn’t resist adding, “Looks good on you, too.”
Marlena laughed again, sitting up to rake her recently-toweled hair back out of her face. “Yes, I’m sure that I am a vision of radiance at this moment. My hair must look like it’s been through a Cuisinart.”
“You look happy,” he said, because it was true.
Her smile turned tender. “I am happy. I’m really glad I let Paul talk me into meeting up with you.”
“How did he manage that, exactly?” John asked, levering himself to his feet and extending a hand down to her. “Because I would’ve bet money against ever seeing you at a baseball game.”
Marlena allowed him to pull her up and slipped into the fluffy hotel bathrobe he held open for her. “Well, he asked.”
“That was all it took?”
“He might also have said he thought it would mean a lot to you,” she admitted.
“It did. It does.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. “Looking up and seeing you there…” He trailed off, laughing at himself as he remembered his moment of embarrassment.
“What?”
“Well, when I first spotted you earlier–before I knew you were you, I mean–I was… Let’s just say I was enjoying the view. And then I was appalled at myself right up until I figured out who you were.”
Marlena drew back to look up at him. “You were checking me out? Before you knew who I was?”
“Yeah.” He was having a hard time interpreting her expression. “Am I in trouble?”
“What? No. No, that’s actually…” She looked down, and he could have sworn she was blushing. “That’s really nice to hear.”
John stared at her. “Honey, it can’t be news to you that I like looking at you.”
“Well, no, of course not. But there’s a difference between knowing you still like looking at what you’ve got and…”
“Knowing that the sight of your ass in those jeans makes me hard?”
“John!” Now she was definitely blushing.
“What? You’re hot as hell, honey, and I’m not going to apologize for noticing. We could be total strangers, and you’d still be hot.”
“Hmmm.” She looked up at him with mischief in her eyes. “You know, that might be an interesting scenario to play with one of these days. Us as total strangers. Think you could pick me up in a bar?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure you’re out of my league.”
“Oh, I think you’re Major League material. Not that I wouldn’t make you work for it.”
“Now that sounded like a challenge.”
“It was. But not on this trip.” Her smile turned rueful. “I’ve been up since five, Salem time, and I’m just about all in.”
“Let’s get some sleep, then. What time is checkout?”
“Two. Late checkout,” she clarified at his questioning look. “And my flight is at four.”
“Puts you getting home kinda late, doesn’t it?”
“It’s a nonstop flight, so with the time difference it won’t be that bad. And getting to surprise you like this was worth a little sleep deprivation.”
They got ready for bed–Marlena laughed at John’s consternation about how his toiletry kit had magically migrated from one hotel to another–and fell back into the suite’s king size bed in a cozy tangle of arms and legs, her head on his shoulder.
“Gonna feel good to wake up with you in my arms,” John said. “I’ve been missing that.”
“So have I.” She cuddled close to him with a little sigh. “I’m not even going to want to move in the morning. Can we have breakfast in bed?”
“Honey, you already mentioned strawberries and whipped cream. You really think that’s gonna end up anyplace other than in bed?”
She giggled. “Good point. Although there was that one time we never made it out of the kitchen…”
“Oh, my God, yeah. Do you remember the look on Belle’s face the next morning? ‘Mom, why is the floor sticky?’”
Their laughter shook the entire bed.
“Oh, I’ve missed you so,” she finally murmured when they settled down again. “I’m glad you’re having a good time with Paul, but I’ll be even gladder when you’re home again.”
“Yeah, me too. Next time I threaten to take off on a twelve day road trip, whack me with something, huh?”
“That, or I’m stowing away in your suitcase,” she answered around a yawn.
He kissed the top of her head. “G’night, Doc. Sweet dreams.”
“In your arms? Always.”
TBC
Chapter End Notes:
Since a couple of people have asked, yes, this hotel exists and is situated as described. The only liberty I’ve taken is with J&M’s actual room number.
The Jarlena Journal 