Joey lay across her bed in a tank top and a pair of shorts, her hair piled on her head in a haphazard bun and her head buried in a book. After she left the game, she headed back to the hotel and worked on her article for the rest of the day. Then she took a shower; left a message for Dawson and pulled out a book she had bought earlier in the hotel gift shop, a cheesy romance novel proving to be quite amusing. Her friend Mea would be proud.

A light knock sounded on her door, and she glanced at the clock, it was just after eleven. There was as sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she rose to answer the door. Already knowing whom she’d find on the other side.

Pacey smiled softly at her and didn’t say a word as he pulled one hand from behind his back to reveal a Barbie dressed in a white baseball uniform with blue pin stripes. He was still dressed in his uniform, though the top was unbuttoned, revealing the tight red undershirt that was worn underneath.

Her lips curled into a faint smile of amusement. “So you finally found the girl of your dreams, huh? Cheap, plastic and you don’t have to worry about her talking back.”

His eyes glittered, “Well, if you must know, a woman gave me this doll to keep me company on those long, lonely road trips.” He held the doll out to her again. “But I think Baseball Barbie has found me, how do you put it? Overly annoying?”

She smiled. “Not surprising.”

“You gonna take the doll or just look at it for a while?”

She took the doll from him. “With an offer like that how can I refuse?”

He rolled his eyes good naturedly, and brought a peach colored rose out from behind his back with the other hand. “The Barbie is from Allegra, the rose is from me.”

“Well then, thank you.”

“So, am I invited in, or...?”

“Yeah, sure.” She moved away from the door and her eyes fell on the book she left open on the bed. She quickly grabbed it and shoved it under a pillow.

He entered the room and shut the door behind him, “It wasn’t half as difficult sneaking here as I thought. Most of the team is still down in the bar celebrating.”

“So you guys won?” She set the rose and Barbie doll down on her nightstand.

“Yeah, just barely.” He sat down on the edge of her bed and watched her move around the room. “Why did you leave?”

“I wasn’t feeling too well.”

He caught her hand as she passed near him and pulled her to stand between his knees, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said easily. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

He rested his hands on her hips, “You said you were sick.”

“Oh that.” She waved it off. “It passed. I think it was the heat.”

He studied her for a moment, something about her demeanor felt off. But he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. “How’d your article go today?” He decided to let it go.

“It went well. No problems at all.”

He grinned, letting his worry for her take a backseat, “That was a great game. I’ve never even been part of a triple play, let alone an unassisted one.” His eyes shimmered as he relived the excitement of the field.

Joey nodded. “Yeah, Will seemed impressed too.”

The corner of his mouth turned up, “And you weren’t?”

“I’m sure that if I knew what it was I would’ve been impressed too.”

He smiled widely at her, holding nothing of himself back. “It means I got all three outs all at once, by myself.”

She grinned. “Okay. There, look, I’m impressed.”

He felt a tug at his heart as he looked up into her smiling face. He felt lucky to be on the receiving end of something so beautiful. “I--”

She looked at him curiously. “What?”

“The Barbie doll,” he gestured to the night stand with his eyes, “I thought maybe you could write something about that, if you’re running out of ideas. I was talking to the guys down in the bar,” he slid his arms a little tighter around her waist, drawing her closer. “Most of us have some rituals or good luck charms, superstitions...I thought maybe you could write about those once.” He sounded almost nervous while making the suggestion.

A small smile crossed her lips. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

He drew a lazy circle on the small of her back with his thumb as he shrugged, “It’s probably a dumb idea, I just thought maybe I could help. I know what this article means to you.”

“No.” She shook her head with a smile. “I think it’s a very good idea.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and straddled his legs, lowering herself onto his lap. She smirked. “Now do I get a kiss from the baseball stud?”

He chuckled, his arms holding her possessively close to his body. “So I’m a stud now?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, enjoying the way he held her. “Did I say that? I must be getting sick.”

“I knew there had to be something wrong with you,” he touched the back of his hand to her forehead. “Nope, perfectly normal.” his voice was warm and deep, as he teased her.

“Maybe I need a second opinion.”

“I’ll be your second opinion,” he brushed his lips against hers teasingly before deepening the contact. With his blood roaring through his veins, he deftly slipped his tongue between her lips, his hands instinctively tightening their hold on her soft curves.

She moaned softly, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly. She always felt like some overly hormonal teenager when she kissed him that couldn’t get enough. It was not like she did much kissing when she was a teenager either. Geez, she was pathetic.

He pulled back just a little, “Nope, a cool ninety-eight point six degrees.”

“That’s good to know but wouldn’t a thermometer been more effective?”

He offered her an innocent lopsided smile, “But would it have been as much fun?”

“It would have been much more accurate.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Are you really that concerned about your temperature?”

“Just want to make sure I’m not sick.”

He trailed his fingers up and down her spine, “You feel sick?”

She shivered slightly and nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re going to have to take my temperature again.”

He claimed her mouth again, his tongue languidly exploring the contours of her mouth. “I’m beginning to feel a little warm myself.”

She smiled faintly. “I think Barbie’s getting jealous.”

He stretched his body along the bed, still holding Joey on his lap, and grabbed the doll. He shoved the doll under one of her pillows, “There, problem sol--Hey, what’s this?” He pulled something else out from under the pillow; a book spread open to the middle. He turned it over in his hands, “*Prisoner of My Desire*?” He arched a teasing eyebrow at her.

Joey did her best to contain a blush and fought to keep her expression neutral. “I wonder how that got there.”

“I know, what a mystery,” He followed her lead. He turned to the page she had been on and started reading aloud. “‘Now, please, Warick, now!’ she begged, this time without his command, and this time with immediate compliance. He plunged. She melted around him. He thrust hard and fast. She screamed in her clima-” he was cut off as Joey tore the book from his hand, “Hey! I was reading that!”

Her cheeks burned and she tossed the book over her shoulder. “Oh well, too bad.”

“It was just getting to the good part,” he pouted, sticking his lower lip out.

“Get over it.”

He growled and nipped at her lip.

“Okay I have a confession.” She sighed dramatically. “The book is mine.”

“Well, obviously, I didn’t think the maid left it in here.”

“Hey, she could have,” Joey, responded indignantly.

He gave her, his ‘I’m not a *complete* idiot’ look.

“It’s possible.”

“You’re incredibly sexy when you’re indignant.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh am I?”

He nodded, “You are.”

She grinned. “I think you’re full of it.”

“Think what you want,” he shifted, adjusting her on his lap so she was aware of her impact on his senses, “But you can’t deny the physical evidence.”

Her eyes studied him carefully and she bit her lip. She was in danger of falling helplessly in love with this man in front of her. Over the past week, she’d grown to like the comfortableness and the closeness; and it wasn’t just the sex. He was smart and funny, easy to talk to. She did love him. She loved him with her whole heart even if there was no chance for them.

Pacey watched the flicker in her eyes, big brown eyes he loved to stare into. He was convinced he could see right into her soul through those eyes, and in the short time he’d known her, he’d never seen that particular emotion in her eyes, whatever it was. “What are you thinking right now, Potter?” He asked, his voice a low murmur.

“I’m thinking,” she smiled, “that I can sure go for some ice cream.”

He groaned, “I swear, when we get back to Boston, I’m buying you a truckload of your own Ben and Jerry’s.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it then.” She grinned brightly this was the first time he ever brought up Boston and the two of them.

His fingers slowly slid up the back of her tank top, caressing the silky smooth skin of her back. “You sure you want ice cream now?”

She smirked. “Why can you think of something better than ice cream?”

“Joey,” He spoke seriously, “If you can seriously be thinking of ice cream right now, with you’re legs straddling my thighs and your breasts pressed against my chest, then you need to lay off the ice cream because it’s frozen your blood.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like that’s even scientifically possible.”

“If anyone could pull it off...” he teased, trailing light kisses along her jaw and then down her neck.

She bit her lip. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” he murmured, his tongue sneaking between his lips to taste the skin of her throat.

She gasped quietly at the sensation, her hands sliding under his shirt eager to touch his skin.

He grimaced, “I should probably shower first,” he grumbled. “I can’t even imagine how bad I must smell.”

She nodded solemnly. “Absolutely horrible.”

He shrugged out of his jersey and let it fall to the floor, “Can I use yours? I may not be able to come back if I go back to my room.”

She shrugged. “Hey whatever gets rid of the smell the fastest.”

He nudged her thighs, pushing her back so he could stand up. He gave her a long kiss before taking a step away and pulling his red undershirt up over his head.

She took one look at him and licked her lips, pushing him back on the bed. “Oh hell, screw it.”

He laughed as she crawled over him, “You sure you don’t mind?” He didn’t wait for an answer before kissing her, his hands working rapidly to free her of her clothes.

~*~

Jordan Keely, the Red Sox’s catcher smiled at Joey as she looked at the vast array of bats lining the dugout. The team and coaches had the run of the field in Texas until three, then they had to give it up until the game scheduled at seven. He approached Joey, he was really coming to like the spunky reporter, and if he wasn’t already happily married, he had to admit to himself, he’d make a play for her.

Well, that is to say if Pacey wasn’t so obviously in love with her. But that was an observation he was keeping to himself. He figured Pacey wouldn’t appreciate him sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Hey, Joey.” he greeted her, lifting a bat.

Joey looked up from her inspection and brushed back some hair that had escaped her ponytail. She smiled. “Hey, Jordan.”

“Lookin’ to get some batting practice?” He wondered, picking up the bat she’d been touching. “This one’s probably too heavy for you.”

She shrugged shoving her hands into her jean pockets. “Well if it wasn’t already so painfully obvious, I know nothing about baseball and...” she kicked at some dirt with her sneakers. “I kind of want to learn.”

He grinned, “Any particular reason?” He had a hunch it had more to do with Pacey’s love of the game, than her article.

“Well, I figured since I’m here...”

He nodded, “I could teach you the art of batting. We’ve got an hour before the team meeting.”

“Can you?” She smiled shyly. “That’d be really great.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He gestured to the array of bats. “Go ahead and choose one, you’re gonna want something on the lighter side, I think.”

“Okay...” She carefully went through the bats until she found one she liked and she held it out. “How’s this one?”

“Looks good to me,” he took her hand and walked with her out onto the field. “Hey, Jeffries.” He called out to one of the batting coaches, “How about pitching a few to Joey here?”

Joey held the bat as if it were some strange object. “So, uh, how do I do this?”

“Okay, first, step up to the plate.” He directed her, “just stand so you’re comfortable.”

She did as instructed. “Okay, what next?”

“Pull the bat back behind your shoulder, but not so far that it’s all the way back behind your head.”

She nodded holding the bat tightly and trying to hold the bat like he said to, behind her shoulder and not behind her head. “Like this?”

“Right,” he nodded, a soft smile curving his lips, he tapped her left elbow, “Tuck your elbow in, and bend your knees a little.”

She bent her knees a little and lowered the bat a bit. “Okay, you lost me somewhere around the elbow thing.”

He chuckled, “Don’t stick it out so far; keep it close to your body.” She complied, “Now, as you get ready to swing, lean your weight back on your right foot, and as you bring the bat forward, step out with your left foot. Then you’ll have put your weight behind the swing,” he explained.

She bit her lip determinedly and nodded. “Okay.”

Jordan gestured to Paul Jeffries that they were ready and he took a few steps away from Joey. “Okay, most importantly, keep your eye on the ball.”

“Okay, keep my eye on the ball,” she repeated ready to take a swing.

Paul threw her an easy pitch, right over the plate, and she took a hard swing at it, but high.

She exhaled sharply letting the top of the bat touch the ground. “Okay, so I was wrong. Hitting a ball with a bat is a lot harder than it looks.”

He chuckled, “No imagine that ball was coming at you at ninety plus miles per hour.” He moved to stand behind her, and adjusted her grip on that bat, “Choke up a bit.”

Joey tightened her hold on the bat and readjusted her stance. And squashed the uneasy feeling of actually having a ball thrown at her at ninety-miles per hour.

Jordan put his hands on her hips and had her tilt her right hip away. “I think that’s enough of your tutelage,” Pacey said wryly, coming up behind them.

“I was just helping the lady out,” Jordan said, holding back his smile.

Joey smiled at Jordan. “And you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure,” he smirked. “Though, Pace here is probably a better teacher. He’s the one with the .335 career average.”

Joey lowered her voice so Jordan could hear. “What’s that mean?”

“He’s one of the best hitters in baseball,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh.” She nibbled on her lower lip. Was there anything this man didn’t do well?

Pacey shrugged, “It takes practice.” His eyes were focused on Jordan’s hands still resting on the curve of her hips.

“Okay.” Joey nodded at Jordan and motioned to the bat. “So are we going to try this again?”

“Uh-huh,” he shot a look over at Pacey and slid his hands over hers, her back to his chest. “Let’s have it Paul.”

She narrowed her eyes determinedly and bit her lip, prepared to swing. She made sure to keep in mind all of Jordan’s advice. This time when the ball was pitched, she was able to hit it. In her excitement, she dropped the bat and began to jump up and down excitedly with a wide grin. “I did it!”

“Yeah, you did.” Jordan smiled happily at her. And Pacey’s lips curled into a proud smile.

She threw her arms around Jordan. “Thank you!”

“Feels good doesn’t it?” He returned the hug.

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Pacey broke in, subtly putting his hand on Jordan’s shoulder and urging him away from Joey. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Joey looked at Jordan curiously. “I thought the meeting didn’t start for another hour?”

“It doesn’t.” He looked at Pacey once more, “But come to think of it...I needed to talk to Will about...something.” He started to back away, a smile playing on his face. “I’m sure Pacey would just *love* to help you with your swing.”

“Okay then, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye Joey,” he turned and lifted a hand in parting. “Bye Pace,” he called back, his tone grating on Pacey’s nerves.

“Jordan’s such a smart ass.” He grumbled, leaning over to pick up the bat she’d dropped.

“Seems kind of nice to me,” Joey commented lightly.

“He may be nice, but...how could you let him put his hands all over you!” The words seemed to burst out of nowhere and his cheeks flushed pink, but he didn’t apologize.

She rolled her eyes. “He didn’t have his hands all over me.”

He sighed, unused to the jealousy he was feeling now. “Sure looked like he did.”

She smirked. “You’re jealous.”

“I--I am not.” He set his jaw stubbornly.

She smiled innocently. “Okay, so you’re not jealous that he had his hands all over me.”

“Right,” He nodded.

“Glad that’s settled then.”

He frowned, she didn’t believe him. Hell, he didn’t believe him, but that was beside the point. He held the bat out to her, “You wanna try again?”

“Sure.” She took the bat from him.

For a second, he considered standing back and letting her swing away, but if Jordan got to touch her in the middle of practice...than an innocent batting lesson couldn’t do any harm, right? He stood close behind her as she stepped into the batters box again.

Joey held the bat the way Jordan had taught her to and adjusted her stance. “I think I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he rested his hands over her slim hips and nodded to Paul who delivered another pitch.

This time she missed the ball by less than an inch when she swung and she groaned in annoyance.

“You can’t him them all,” he teased lightly, sliding his hands along her bare arms slowly, bringing them to rest over her smaller hands. “I’m gonna help you with this one, k?”

She swallowed and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

They took another swing together, and missed. “Keep ‘em coming, Jeffries.” The next pitch they connected with, missing the next two, and hitting the next three.

Joey smiled faintly. “This is kind of fun.”

“I’m beginning to like batting practice more and more,” he murmured, pausing to discreetly nuzzle her neck. Their swing was about five seconds too late.

She bit her lip and shivered slightly. “Please don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He turned his eyes back to pitcher and this time made strong contact.

“Because it’s going to be hours before I can get you alone,” she said with a small smile.

He chuckled. “I swear, Potter...” he gave her a light squeeze before helping her make sharp contact with the ball.

“It’s true. It might be another six or seven more hours,” she said with a shrug as she adjusted her grip on the bat.

“I know...and every minute is going to be pure torture.” Swing and a miss.

“I know.” She nodded. “And I’d hate to make it worse but...”

“But?”

She grinned. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He groaned, “You’ve *got* to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Now come on, pay attention.”

“You want me to concentrate *now*?” he grumbled in her ear, shifting his hips so his arousal was pressed against her bottom.

She raised an eyebrow as she prepared to swing. “Why do you have a better idea?”

“I have a much better idea...but somehow I don’t think putting on a public show is gonna be appropriate.” He smiled as she hit the ball into the outfield. “You’re getting good at this.”

“Jordan’s a great teacher,” she teased.

He snorted, but let it go. “So what’s with the sudden desire to how did you put it? Hit a ball with a stick?”

She shrugged. “Figured if I was stuck here I might as well learn.”

“An insider’s view for your writing?” He wondered, loosening his hold on the bat so she had more control and only used his strength to help give her hits distance.

“I guess you can say that.”

“And you’re not wearing any underwear.”

“I thought that was already established.”

“You really have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.”

The corner of her mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “You only have six more hours to go.”

“You’re not allowing for the three hours for the game tonight. We’re looking at more like eight hours, nine if it’s a high scoring game or extra innings.”

“Think you can last that long?”

“No.” He answered honestly.

She smiled. “Oh well, it can’t be helped.”

“I think you secretly love to torture me,” the crack of the bat meeting ball echoed through the small stadium.

“You caught me.” She smirked and let go of the bat. “You practice. I’m going to go wash my hands.” She headed off for the bathroom.

“I’ll meet you there in five.”

She smiled. “Whatever.”

“Five minutes, Potter.” He gave her a light slap on the ass as she stepped away and he picked up the bat to get a few hits in himself.

Joey grinned and rolled her eyes before heading inside for the bathroom.