Ginny Baker was a baseball player. She had been one for 20 of her 23 years on earth, and before that she probably would have been one if someone would have just handed her a damn ball. There was only a short time right after the accident that she ever considered being anything else. Days like this reminded her why she had ever thought about hanging up her cleats.

It wasn't the pictures. Well, it was, and it wasn't. It wasn't because she was comfortable enough with her own body that she wasn't exactly embarrassed. More than anything she was annoyed that everyone and their brother wanted to talk to her about it.

Oscar had pulled her out of practice yesterday when the story broke. There was a lot of talk about breach of contract and decency clauses. Then a big guilt trip about how she was supposed to be a role model for girls coming up in the sport, which immediately brought his daughter to her mind. So yeah, there was a little guilt when pictured those girls with their I'm Next signs.

Then Amelia showed up insisting that they do a media blitz. It started with a 7pm press conference where Ginny robotically read the statement Amelia had written. Then a quiet night of self recrimination. She had to turn off her cell between calls from her mom, Will, and Trevor. The one person she really wanted to talk to, hadn't called. She didn't want to think about why.

The next morning Amelia was at her door at 5am with a hair and makeup crew and the most modest outfit she had ever seen, which meant she missed her morning work out. The morning was spent looking contrite and making versions of the same apology speech to nameless, faceless reporters, until the last one. A face she recognized far too well.

Rachel Patrick sat primly on her stool and gave Ginny a look she had quickly come to hate. She called it the disappointed face, but Rachel's was more of disappointed/excited/ gleeful look.

Amelia gave her a half hearted smile and a nod, mouthing last one sympathetically. Ginny rolled her shoulders, schooled her features and began the interview.

It wasn't exactly Rachel's questions that got under her skin, though they were sharper than most. There was just something about the red head that had always rubbed her the wrong way. When the interview was over, Ginny jumped to her feet, she was already late for practice, but Rachel grabbed her arm.

"We thought you were the one Ginny. You really let us down," she sighed.

Ginny yanked her arm away as if she had been burned. "You let yourself down," she growled, before storming away. In the car Amelia tried to calm her, but she just put her headphones on. She just wanted to play baseball.

When they pulled up to Petco, a throng of reporters and protesters were waiting for them.

"I thought you said it wasn't that many?" Amelia screeched at Eliot.

"It wasn't an hour ago, I swear…"

"An hour ago, isn't now, if you can't do your job I will find someone who can!"

Meanwhile Ginny studiously avoided looking out the windows. What she couldn't see, couldn't hurt her. She just needed to get inside and start playing baseball, the sooner the better. The door opened and she was rushed into the building, but she did hear several hateful slurs over music blasting in her ears. The door closed behind them, and she thought she would feel calmer, but the sinking feeling in her stomach only got worse.

Jim, the doorman for the clubhouse, wouldn't make eye contact. Amelia tried to say something, but Ginny waved her off.

"I'm going to go do my job, you go do yours."

She could hear the commotion in the locker room as she got closer. Blip came out still in his street clothes.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"Nothing, you want to go grab a coffee real quick?" He asked, blocking her way.

"What's gotten into you Sanders? I'm already late, move!"

She went to go around him, but again he blocked her path.

"Blip, stop!" She growled, pushing past him into the locker room. The sight that met her eyes was, not exactly surprising, but still shocking. The entire locker room was papered with copies of the leaked pictures.

Her throat dried up. Whistles and catcalls echoed in her ears. Miller stepped out holding a stack of pictures.

"Look who it is, Ginny Baker, in… well nothing really," he grinned as he eyed the picture and then her as if mapping the picture onto her physical body. "She may not date ballplayers but she sure doesn't mind doing everything else with'em."

Ginny looked around the room at the people who she thought were becoming her friends. Some looked ashamed, but most were either curious or down right lustful. Her eyes sharpened as she turned back to Miller. She could tell he was hoping she would cry. She would just crumble and he would go back to being the star pitcher for the Padre's. Instead, her eyes narrowed.

"You want see me?" She growled, taking off her coat and throwing it at him. "You really want to see me?" Her shirt came off next, revealing a giant bruise on her hip from a slide into home two days ago.

"Ginny, stop," Blip called from behind her, but she completely ignored him focusing all her rage on glaring at Miller, as she slid her pants down her legs. The bruise continued down her leg almost to her knee.

"Is this what you wanted, Miller? Is this enough? Can I just do my fucking job now? Or do you want to stare a little more?"

Miller looked away as she came towards him.

"Just remember that I may have come up for one game, but I'm still here and my big bubble butt and 3.0 ERA, is a lot better than you scrawny ass 5.5." Then she turned scooped up her clothes, and headed to closet she used to change. "If any of you idiots feel like playing baseball, I'll be on he field!"

"I'll get'em down, Gin," Blip said as she passed.

"Don't bother!"

She passed Skip in the hall, but he had his nose to a clipboard and only acknowledged her with a vague, "You're late, Baker."

She smiled to herself, at least one person wasn't treating her like a girl. "Won't happen again, Skip."

"See that it doesn't."

She had been on the field running laps for a few minutes when Blip jogged up to her.

"I'm sor…"

"Don't, either run or find somewhere else to be. I only want to talk about the game," she snapped, picking up speed.

Blip shook his head, but sped up. "I think we should work on catching Blackmon between 2 and 3."

"I've been watching tapes, and I was think we will surprise him if we let him think he can go for home. He gets sloppy."

"You think Lawson can catch him?"

"I think the old man still has some tricks up his sleeve."

"I felt my ears burning, Baker, you sayin' nice things about me?" Lawson teased as he ran to join them.

"Never! Where you been old man? Did you fall outa bed and have to use your life alert?"

"Na, I swung by the preschool to pick you up, but they said you got a ride."

Ginny bit back a smile and the rest of the team trickled onto the field. Some tried to apologize, some looked contrite, but she ignored them all and enjoyed the burn of a hard practice.