~ Chapter Twelve ~

"And that's strike three, two outs."  Niehaus paused, watching the TV monitor as Scott Martin walked back to the dugout, shaking his head slightly at the pitch he had just been called out on.

"Here's the DH, Krazelton."  Chasez began.  "He's 1 for 1 today with a single in the second."

"They've got quite the little meeting going on there."  Niehaus commented as a picture of the dugout was shown.  Nick Carter, Brian Littrell, Howie Dorough and a couple utility infielders were all clustered at the far end, around the Gatorade cooler.  "How much do you want to bet they're not discussing baseball?"  Niehaus added.  "Or the theory of relativity, either."  He laughed, finding this comment especially amusing.

~*~

"No!"  Nick squawked in protest, shaking his head firmly.  "Uh-uh!"

"I cannot believe you!"  Brian was perched on the back ledge of the dugout bench, his feet resting on the bench seat. 

"Yeah!"  Howie agreed, carefully tucking a strand of long, wavy hair behind his ear.  "I mean, it's not like there's something wrong about it!"

"Scott!"  Brian hollered, as the first baseman came back into the dugout.  "Question!"

"Yeah?"  Scott sat down to the right of Brian's feet and rested his elbows on his knees.  "What problem can I solve for  you fellows today?"

"Would you ask someone out you met in the parking lot of QFC?"  Brian wondered.

"Well now."  Scott pondered the idea slowly, as he did most ideas.  "I usually shop at Albertson's, but... no, I can't see myself asking someone out in a parking lot, but I suppose some people could pull it off.  For instance, Nick there."  Scott smirked at this comment.

"Oh, shut up."  Nick glared, not really mad.  So far, he had managed to get along tolerably well with Scott Martin.  True, he was Kevin's best friend, but at least he was civil to him in the clubhouse - which was more than could be said for the guy leaning on the fence at the other end of the dugout, intently watching the pitcher.

"This is like, so NOT a big deal!" Howie announced.  "I mean, I pick up chicks in parking lots all the time!  There is nothing to it!"

"I rest my case."  Nick shook his head as Brian broke into giggles.  They could bug him about that girl in the parking lot all he wanted, he was not going to call her.  Especially if that was how Howie got dates.

"Do you guys remember Pamela?"  Howie brought up one of his many girlfriends.  Howie literally had a girl in every single American League city, except Baltimore. 

"What homestand was she?"  Brian wondered.

"No, it was spring training, last year."  Howie picked his cap up off the bench and carefully placed it over  his hair, adjusting a few strands to his satisfaction.  "Great legs, green eyes, dark hair..."

"Was  she the one with the BMW?"  Scott interrupted.

Howie and Brian both turned, mouths hanging open.

"What?"  Scott looked confused.  "That was a nice car!"

~*~

"That stuff stinks."  Kevin announced.

Nick stared down at the bottle of hair gel, contemplating whether he should squirt some down the front of Kevin's shirt.  It probably wouldn't be a wise idea.  They had won the game today, even though Nick was still hitless in his last eleven games.  But today, that wasn't the most pressing issue on his mind.  Other things, more important things, and certainly better looking things had been occupying it since yesterday afternoon. 

Kevin sniffed loudly one more time, then stalked out of the small room.  Nick shrugged.  He could care less if Kevin marched around with his hair plastered to his head - which Kevin did most of the time.  Kevin lived in track pants and flip flops, except road trips, when he was forced to put on "real clothes".

Nick's mind wandered back to the same subject he had been pondering all day long.  Brian and Scott could tease Nick about the girl in the parking lot all they wanted.  He didn't care.  If the truth was going to be known, he had been thinking about her quite a bit in the last 24 hours.

Nick pointed at himself in the mirror with the bottle of gel.  "This is stupid."  He muttered.  "Just call her, and ask her out, already."

The face in the mirror stared back at him skeptically, not quite convinced. 

"People's Fifty Most Beautiful and you're being insecure?"  Nick tried again.

"Excuse me, my friend."  AJ interrupted, wandering into the room.  "You're talking to yourself."

"I am?"  Nick jumped slightly.  AJ had to quit skulking around the clubhouse.  He needed a little bell, like a cat.

"Yes."  AJ paused in front of the floor length mirror to inspect his clothes.  "You know, if I had a movie title for my life: AJ, The Man, The Moves, The Clothes."

Nick bit his lower lip, trying very hard not to laugh. 

AJ turned back around.  "And while I have NO clue what you're talking about, I say yes."

"Yes."  Nick repeated.

"Uh-huh."  AJ bobbed his head up and down. "Go for it.  What have you got to lose?"

"A small amount of pride."  Nick held up two fingers to demonstrate.

AJ looked askance.  "You're hitting .050 and you're talking about pride?"  He shook his head sadly.

"Yeah, okay."  Nick turned back to the mirror.  He didn't need people rubbing his current hitting inabilities in his face.  That wasn't going to help him any.

"Word of contemplation from the Cool Guru!"  AJ announced.  "The harder you try, the dumber you look."

"What?"  Nick's head swiveled slowly.  "The Cool Guru?"

"Yours Truly."  AJ whipped his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on.

"Yeah, right."  Nick bent down and peered at AJ's dark glasses.  "Can you see with those on?"

AJ grasped at the various products scattered around on the counter, feeling the different bottles.  "Perfectly fine, my foolish friend.  Ah... what's this?"  He grabbed the hairdryer that Howie had been using earlier.  "Hey!  A loaded firearm!"

Nick shook his head.  "Okay, have fun.  I've gotta get going."  He was pretty sure he had left that girl's phone number in his car.