“Can I get you anything for dessert?” The waiter at Miani’s asked as he cleared the table Joey and AJ were seated at. It was just past nine that night.

“Um, Jo?” AJ arched a light brown eyebrow.

Joey shook her head. “No, thank you. None for me.”

“None for me either,” AJ told the waiter.

“Then your check is on the way.” The man smiled politely and moved to another table.

“Well, dinner was nice.” Joey just smiled awkwardly having no idea what to say anymore. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat her black dress climbing up her legs.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “So, you wanted to ask me some questions? We never really got to that part.”

“Right, the questions.” She frowned she really hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Oh well, nothing major just anything you feel the public should know.” She smiled.

“Well, I think we’ve got great chances this year. We were wonderful last year, and I think this year, we have an even stronger team. We don’t need hotshot players; we have heart in last years time. Confidence. But this year, with or without Witter, we’re going to win.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Joey inwardly sighed. This was so boring.

“I really think this year I’ve gotten so much better. I should be getting twice as much playtime. My fastball is--” he was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone.

“Just give me one minute.” Joey held up her finger for a second and reached for the phone in her purse. She opened it and raised it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Joey?” Kyle’s voice came through the line. “I hope it’s not too late to be calling. “

She shook her head shooting AJ an apologetic glance. “No, it’s fine.”

“Listen, the last three installments were great. Not your best... but still.” He paused, “Listen, a few magazines have liked what you’ve written...they’re keeping your eye on what’s coming from you. The whisperings are, they may commission to buy the column when you’re finished and run it in its entirety when you’re done.”

Joey’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “Are you serious?”

“I’m very serious. I mentioned to them that you aren’t a sports writer, that doesn’t seem to faze them any. The want more of the behind the scenes stuff, and a look at the people behind the players. Particularly Pacey. The feedback this last week has been phenomenal.” He grinned on his side of the phone, “I’m telling you, Joey, I knew this would be good for you.”

Joey held back a groan. Pacey. It always had to be about Pacey, she thought but she smiled. “I’ll get right on that then.”

“I’m proud of you, Jo.” Kyle told her, his tone fatherly.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“Have a good night, Potter.” He said.

“You too.”

“Who was that?” AJ asked as she hung up the phone.

“My editor,” Joey replied putting her phone back in her purse.

“Oh, good news, I hope?”

She nodded. “Yeah, but also a terrible reminder that I need to have my article in by six am tomorrow. I should probably cut this short.” Her lips curved into a frown.

“That’s too bad,” He frowned too, wanting to spend more time with her.

“Maybe we can do this again, sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He sighed, “They keep us pretty busy, my only free days are Sundays.”

She smiled relieved. “Well you know where my room is.”

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you on the field in the mean time.” He grinned.

“Right.”

“Your check,” the waiter appeared again and deposited the check on the table. AJ took it and
without looking at the bill handed over his credit card. “Ready?”

She smiled. “Ready.”

~*~

Joey sat down on the edge of her queen sized bed with a container of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate marble fudge, that she had picked up at a local Seven Eleven before coming to her room, and her laptop. She had kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs in front of her, not even bothering to take off her dress yet. She had too much to do and she’d already wasted time going to buy the ice cream.

She sighed Kyle’s news about her articles had made her more than elated and a little less than depressed. Not that it wasn’t terrific news but it kind of left her all dressed up with no place to go, literally. She probably could have shared it with AJ but it wasn’t the same. She would have called Dawson because he more than anyone would know how much it meant to her but it was late and she didn’t bother him, and Jen really wasn’t that great of a friend yet she figured it’d be weird for Jen considering Pacey Witter was supposed to be her story in the first place. She didn’t want any problems.

She stared at her open Word document on the screen in front of her, the blinking line urging her to write but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hadn’t even bother to pay attention in the meeting earlier, she’d been too busy preoccupied with her upcoming date with AJ. She slapped the palm of her hand against her head. She was such a girl. It was such a pathetic girl thing to do. She didn’t know what was the cause but she had found herself acting less and less like her usual self. She bit her lip. It was all Pacey’s fault. She was sure of it. She grabbed her laptop and ice cream while climbing off the bed. If he was going to be such a nuisance, he might as well prove himself useful. She headed for her door; first, he could start with telling her what the damn meeting was for.

Pacey grumbled under his breath when he heard the knock on his door. With a grunt he rose from the floor where he’d been doing push ups before he went to bed. He looked down at his pajamas, a pair of drawstring shorts with the Red Sox emblem on the cuff; he wasn’t exactly dressed for company. He shrugged, whoever was bothering him at eleven o’clock deserved what they got. He opened the door.

“Good you’re awake,” Joey said pushing past him to head inside, not too lost in her inner turmoil to fully appreciate what he wasn’t wearing but right now that wasn’t important. She had an article to write.

“Hi, Jo. Sure, feel free to come in. I wasn’t busy or anything,” he said, talking to the space in the entryway where she had just been standing. He closed the door, and turned to face her.

She settled onto the bed, laptop in one arm, and ice cream in the other. She set the ice cream down and opened the laptop on her lap. “Well because of you I have an impossible deadline and nothing to write about so be useful and tell me what that dumb meeting was for.”

He arched an eyebrow, “You were there, weren’t you?” He knelt down on the floor and went back to his push-ups; he still had twenty more to go.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really pay much attention. I was otherwise occupied.” She re-opened her word program.

“Hmm,” He lifted himself from the ground and lowered his body until it was an inch from the rich red carpeting. “What do you want to know?”

She refused to look at him while he did that thing that made his strong muscles ripple. She needed to remain focused. “Anything.”

“Martin introduced the returning and new staff, coaches, players. Outlined the season, and explained our strategy.” He grunted as he finished the last few push-ups.

“Who’s Martin?”

“Al Martin,” he said sitting up on his knees. “You know? The manager?”

“The manager.” She nodded. “We met briefly. What exactly does a manager do?”

“What doesn’t a manager do?” he asked, turning so he was lying on his back and put his hands under his neck to begin his sit ups. “He controls the team. He makes all the decisions; the pitching coaches, trainers, and assistants all give him advice on what he should do. Like bringing in a closer or a pinch hitter. He decides who starts weeks in advance, and he decides in a clinch moment during the game whether or not to put on the hit and run.”

Joey picked up her ice cream and scooped up a big spoonful of ice cream. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He rolled his eyes, and continued his exercise, the muscles in his torso moving fluidly. He tried to think of a way to explain it so she’d understand. “He’s like the editor of your newspaper. He decides what players are going to play, like what writers are going to write. He decides what order to put us when we bat to be most effective against the opposing starting pitcher that day.” He paused, “We are clear on who the pitcher is right?”

She carefully licked her spoon clean before digging in for another spoonful. “He throws the ball?”

“Right, he throws the ball.” He paused, “A pitcher usually has 3 or 4 good pitches, and by that I mean ways he throws the ball. There’s the fast ball, sinker, slider, curve, breaking, fork (which is rare), and probably a few more, but that’s what I can think of off the top of my head.” He took a deep breath and continued his exercises.

“See, Al gets reports from the scouts, guys who go and watch other teams play so we know what we face when we play them, and he arranges the batting order accordingly. If he knows Cheperd is left handed, and pitches low and away fastballs 70% of the time, he’s gonna warn us ahead of time, and put his strongest right hand hitters at the top of the order.”

“AJ said pitching wins games, not hitters,” Joey responded taking another scoop of ice cream.

“AJ, huh? Well, AJ’s wrong. Neither one or the other wins games. It’s a team effort.”

She just shrugged. “Whatever.”

“What else do you need to know?” He wondered, feeling the tell tale tightening in his stomach that indicated a good work out.

Joey grabbed the closest pillow to her and threw it at him unable to take it anymore. “What? Do you suffer from ADD? Just stay still.”

He chuckled, “You’re the one who interrupted my workout.”

“Like it’d kill you to stay still for five minutes.”

“Yeah, fine.” He sat up on the floor and crossed his legs at that ankle.

“Thank you.” She took another bite of her rapidly melting ice cream. “So is there anything else I should know about the meeting?”

“I don’t think so,” he frowned, “But then, I don’t know what it is you’re writing about these days.”

“Well now it looks like I’m stuck writing more about you. The joy,” she said dryly gathering up the last bit of ice cream with her spoon.

“Why? I thought once we got here you’d be focusing more on the team.”

“I thought so too but apparently I’m not that lucky.” She sighed. “They want to know more about the man behind the uniform. Although I don’t know why, you’re annoying.”

He chuckled. “You’re looking at the man behind the uniform right now,” he said, referring to his near naked state.

“How unimpressive.”

He rolled his eyes, and stood up. “Are we done? I’d kinda like to go to bed now.”

“Funny, before you couldn’t stay still and now you’re tired.”

“You annoy me, it was an excuse to get you off my bed.” He flopped onto the unoccupied side of the blankets beside her. “Unless that’s where you want to be.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, you caught me.”

“Then shoo woman.” He waved his hand.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “In fact I should just stay right here until I finish my article and not let you sleep, so you can see first hand how much it sucks to lose out on sleep because you have to write about some dumb ballplayer.”

“Potter, you don’t have to be up at five AM to meet with the trainers.”

“Oh well.”

“And you claim I’m annoying.”

“I’m not annoying.”

“You’re refusing to leave my bed at,” he checked the clock, “Eleven-eighteen at night. You’d castrate me if I tried this.” He nudged her, “Go to your own room.”

“Do you know if AJ has a girlfriend?”

“AJ? Are we back to him again?” Pacey asked with exasperation.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with him. I definitely wouldn’t mind following him around.” She smiled to herself as she thought about him.

Pacey rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you take your little crush on him over to his room, jump his scrawny bones and leave me to get a little sleep.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think he’s interested.”

“Oh dear lord,” he muttered under his breath. “He is, now get out of my room!”

She smiled. “Really? You think he is?”

“Unless he’s gay, I’m pretty sure I’m safe in saying he is. Now would you go? Please?”

“Fine.” She grabbed her laptop and tossed her empty container into the garbage can after she stood up. “I think I’ll go see AJ. Ask him some questions.” She smoothed out her hair and her dress.

“Have a good night, Potter.” He called as he slithered under his blankets.

“Hopefully I will.”

“Hit the lights when you leave,” He muttered, turning on his side to try and get comfortable.

“Consider it done,” she said happily. She turned off the lights before she closed the door behind her.