~ Chapter Twenty Seven ~

"She practically jumped me!"  Brian was in the middle a rather detailed explanation of last night's date.  "I mean - I'm all for enthusiasm, if y'all get my meaning, but she was just a little scary."  He leaned back against the blue padding of the dugout bench, studying the game in progress before him.  "How the heck did Kevin get on third base?"

"He ran.  Very slowly."  Scott smirked.  No one on the team missed a chance to make fun of Kevin's base running abilities.  He was easily the slowest player on the team - two of the coaches could outrun Kevin.

"So, you're not gonna go out with her again, huh?"  Nick wondered, still keeping one eye on the game.  Kevin was the tying run on third and Kinomoto was at the plate, trying to bring him home. 

"You bet I'm gonna go out with her again."  Brian unleashed a slightly wicked grin.  "I know what to expect this time."

"I'm gonna go join the other conversation now."  Scott stood up, shaking his head. 

"Yeah, sure!"  Brian hollered after him.  "You guys go talk about trout fishing or whatever it is!  That's real fun!"

Kinomoto rapped a single into shallow left, the left fielder charging in, fielding it on one bounce, and firing it back towards home plate, all in one motion. 

"C'mon, Kevin!"  Brian screamed, jumping up and down and waving his arm, the same as the third base coach, who was waving Kevin towards the plate. "Slide!"  Brian was starting to get some serious vertical air.  Nick stepped away from Brian's pin-wheeling arms.

The opposing catcher caught the ball, turning to block Kevin's entry to home plate.  Kevin - never the one to stand aside passively, took one last step, and flung himself into the catcher as forcefully as he could, cleats first.  Both players tumbled over a couple times, before stopping in a heap in the dirt next to home plate.

Nick wrinkled his nose.  Kevin had slid in there pretty hard.  He had to be feeling that one.

"Uh-oh."  Brian said slowly, watching the action at home plate.  "Kevin's hurt."  He pulled himself up on the step next to the dugout fence, as close to getting out on the field as he possibly could, concern written over his face. 

Buddy Williams and Rich Ankel, the team trainer, started out for the plate, where Howie was already bent over Kevin, still lying in the dirt, curled up, not moving. 

Nick leaned against the railing next to Brian, curious as to if Kevin was okay, but not really wanting to watch.  He had seen some serious injuries, most of them occurring at home plate, and they always scared him just a little.

~*~

It had taken longer than Nick would have liked, but finally, the rain clouds disappeared from the Seattle sky, and the sun appeared.  Nick had been a sun-worshiper his entire life.  Some players complained when they had to wear sunglasses during day games in order to see the ball.  Nick loved it.  Sunshine added something special to a baseball game. 

Stacy, fortunately, was as much of a sun-worshiper as Nick was.  Every weekend Nick was at home, the two of them would end up outside somewhere, usually at a local park.  This weekend, they had ended up at a fairly deserted park near Nick's house.  Stacy spent most of her spare time with her nose in incredibly thick books, and this day was no exception.  She was lying on her back, using Nick's stomach as a pillow, her sunglasses shoved up on top of her head, completely absorbed in the page she was reading.

Nick wasn't a reader.  He usually ended up with a headache after staring at printed text for too long.  He preferred his headphones and Walkman. 

The slightly wooded area of the park where they were was almost completely deserted, except for two teenage girls in skimpy little outfits and their dog, who was madly chasing the birds flying around the trees bordering the main grassy knoll.  Nick must have dozed off,  his Walkman had stopped, and the sun had shifted farther towards the west. 

Stacy was still reading.  From his angle, Nick could just see the side of her face. She had her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, like a little girl.  Short little wisps had blown loose around her face.  In the sunlight, her hair looked more gold than red.  Nick was tempted to reach over and play with it. 

"Did you have a nice nap?"  Stacy inquired, not taking her eyes off her book.

Nick jumped, wondering exactly how long she had been watching him and  been pretending not to.  "Um, yeah.  How long was I out?"  He pulled his headphones off and set them on the grass next to him.

"About two chapters."  Stacy rested the book face down on her stomach, hugging it slightly so she wouldn't lose her place.  "Nick?"

"Hmm?"  Nick did reach over and pull at the end of her long ponytail, wrapping a small section of it around his finger. 

"If you weren't playing baseball, what would you do?"

Nick shrugged.  "I have no idea.  That wasn't ever an option."  The fact that he could have ended up as something other than a major leaguer had never entered into his head.  As long as he could remember, he had accepted the fact that one day, he was going to be in the major leagues.

"What if you hadn't made the majors?"  Stacy continued.  "I mean, what if you completely bombed at baseball, and couldn't hit if your life depended on it?"

"That wasn't an option."  Nick repeated. 

Stacy was silent for a moment.  Nick knew she was reasoning through everything he had just said; comparing it to the other pieces of information she had, and was about to come up with another logical conclusion. 

"Do you like playing baseball?"

Nick sighed.  He had loved playing baseball when he was a little kid, but by the time he reached high school, he hated it.  Now, it was mostly automatic, he didn't even think about it anymore.  "I don't know."  He said finally.  "I guess I like it... I've never done anything else."  He bit his lip, realizing suddenly that he had been about to embark on the entire story of he and his father's relationship. 

Nick wasn't exactly sure why, but he kept finding himself telling Stacy stuff that he had never told anyone in his entire life.  It freaked him out just a little.  His head kept telling him to slow down and back off, that he was moving too fast, but the rest of him kept plunging headlong into their relationship.  He loved talking to Stacy; loved being with Stacy, even if it was just doing stupid stuff like watching the otters at the aquarium, or  spending the day sitting on a slightly sunburned patch of grass, but still, at the back of his mind, there was a nagging little reminder that he didn't want to get burned again. 

"Were you going to say something?"  Stacy interrupted his train of thought.

Nick shook his head, but his mouth had other ideas.  "You know, everyone seems to think that I'm another one of those kids that tries to get acceptance or love or whatever from their parents by doing whatever they want them to, but that's not how it is."

"So, what is it then?"  Stacy sat up, setting her book next to her. 

"It's..."  Nick broke off, not quite sure how to phrase it.  "It's like he's daring me to do something he hasn't... it's almost like a competition."  He paused, knowing how weird that sounded.  "I think my family's kind of messed up."

Stacy laughed.  "Well, at least your mother isn't designing couches."

"That's what your mom does?"  Nick said in surprise.  He knew her parents were divorced, and her mother lived near London, but he had never heard what she did for a living.

"Last time I talked to her, yes, she was designing couches."  Stacy affirmed.  "But, she might be doing something else now.  She's still trying to find herself." 

"When you were little, what did you want to be?"  Nick wondered.

"A doctor."  Stacy said instantly.

"Like your Dad?"

"Right, except I didn't want to save the entire Deccan Plateau." 

"So why didn't you?" 

"I don't know."  Stacy shrugged.  "Some people just don't have a bedside manner, I guess.  I'm probably better off in a lab."

"I don't have a problem with your ‘bedside manner.'" Nick pointed out, right before Stacy socked him in the stomach - hard.  "Ow!"  He rolled away from her, trying to protect himself.

"Why did I know you were going to say that?"  Stacy smacked him once more for good measure, on the back of the head, before checking the narrow gold watch on her arm.  "It's almost eight.  We  should probably get going?"

"Okay..."  Nick said, suspiciously peering over his shoulder at her.  "Only if you promise to stop hitting."

"I only hit you if you deserve it."  Stacy mock lectured, standing up and brushing off her khakis.

"Whatever."  Nick stuck his tongue out. 

Stacy shook her head in amusement and started towards the path that led back to the parking lot.  Nick grabbed the Walkman and headphones with one hand and jogged after her. 

"What?"  Stacy feigned shock when he appeared next to her.  "You're not racing me to the car this time?"

"Nope."  Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Why not?"

Nick shrugged.  "‘Cause."  He didn't feel like letting go of her right then.