Ginny collapsed onto the bed in her New York hotel room and tried to ignore the way it was spinning around her. She'd been in constant motion since leaving San Diego and the flight had been brutal. There'd been so much turbulence she'd been sure they were going to fall from the sky, which she was sure the media would find a way to blame on her. San Diego Padres, struck by lightning. Cause: too much estrogen on the plane. Shutting her eyes, she rolled over and buried her face in the comforter. She needed to be rested before playing the Yankees tomorrow. Kicking off her shoes, she'd rolled on to her back and gotten her pants off when the door to her room opened. She looked up in alarm only to find her expression mirrored on the face of one very confused Mike Lawson.

They stared at each other, neither moving, neither sure what to say. Mike was the first to blink.

"Look, Baker. I'm flattered, but-"

"I'm not." Ginny sat up, unsure whether it was worse to pull her pants up or down and deciding to leave them at mid thigh. "This is my room."

"Then why did my key card work?" Mike countered, waving the card. Glancing behind him, he stepped further into the room. Ginny's irritation was tempered by a rush of gratitude. This situation was embarrassing enough without an audience. He shut the door and put his bag on the ground, leaning against it heavily. He's exhausted as well, the cold temperature of the flight must not have been good for his knee.

"So what do we do?" She asked softly. She knows what she should do. Pull her pants up and call Amelia then go to the lobby, as far away from Mike as she can, until her agent fixes this, but she's too damn tired to even begin to formulate what she'd say to Amelia and the thought of having to switch rooms saps what little energy she had left. Mike's scrutinizing her face and he must have been thinking around similar lines because the next words out of his mouth are:

"You're going to need pants."

She blinked; clearly she'd heard him wrong. "Huh?" Is somehow the most eloquent thing she can come up with.

"Pants, Baker." He picked up his bags and walked over to the bed, sinking onto the opposite side of where Ginny is lying. His jaw is tightened in that way that says his knee hurts, but he doesn't want to admit it. "My old bones aren't sleeping on the floor, but I'd feel like an asshole if you were, so we're sharing the bed. But you're going to wear pants, and we're forming a barrier between us with pillows. I'm a spontaneous cuddler and I still want you to respect me in the morning. Also don't bring back any guys here after the game because they're in for the most uncomfortable threesome ever; I will lie here and watch."

Ginny gaped at him as he took off his shoes and stretched. He glanced over at her.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "I guess it figures that with that beard you'd be a giant teddy bear."

Mike shuts his eyes. "I guess there's no way to get you to forget I said that." He mumbled.

"Not a chance." She sat up, pulling her pants the rest of the way down and grabbing her bag to get her pajamas. "So we're really doing this?"

Mike stopped moving and sighed heavily. "Look, we both got through the flight from hell, and you weren't sitting next to Al. The man snores with his mouth open. Not only could I smell what he had for breakfast, I could see it. So have your crisis now, because I'm taking a shower, getting dressed and promptly passing out."

Ginny snorted. She'd heard Al snoring a few seats up from where she'd been sitting with Miller. Getting up, she carried her bathroom bag and pajamas to the bathroom. "I get first shower." She said as Mike opened his mouth to protest. "If I'm going to have to listen to you snoring all night, the last thing I need is to have you hog all the hot water."

Mike tried desperately to ignore the warmth radiating from Ginny's side of the bed. He could feel her, even through the pillows. It made him sick. Sure he'd been tired, but definitely not too much to go down and fix this. If they'd done that, it would have been a funny anecdote to spin to the press tomorrow. Ha ha, the hotel put us in the same room by accident, but this...oh he'd screwed up. He shut his eyes, his back turned to Ginny's side of the bed. A selfish part of him, he realized, wasn't too upset by this turn of events and that made him even more disgusted. She was his teammate. And an adult, his brain reminded him, who could well have gone down to the lobby and unleashed the wrath of Amelia on the hotel staff. Instead she chose to be in bed with you.

"This is a mess." Ginny's voice broke through the silence. Mike started up, twisting around to look at her. He'd thought she was asleep.

"Yup." He agreed.

"I should call Amelia..." Yawn. "Get her to fix it." She sounded practically asleep. "Or go find Blip and Evelyn. See if they let me crash with them."

Mike grimaced. "Let's not interrupt Blip and Evelyn's pregame ritual." The two were so in love it was sickening...Mike was jealous of their easy chemistry. "Also Evelyn will definitely whoop my ass if she finds out it was my idea to have you spend the night with me."

"My room first, Mike." Ginny muttered, chuckling. Any other time of day it would have been a normal sound, but in the dark...he feels it. In the air around him and in the way the blanket moves slightly as she does it. He can smell her shampoo and body wash now that he's facing the pillows between them. She smells like jasmine and coco butter. It's direct, practical...it's Ginny.

"That won't matter to Evelyn." He continued, trying not to think of how good she smells and whether or not she thinks he smells good as well. " I can't outrun her. I might be a baseball player, but the woman lives in heels; her calves must be like marble."

Ginny laughs. She laughs so hard she snorts and it's both the sexiest and most adorable sound he's ever heard. She laughs so hard, she tugs the blanket slightly more on her side.

"Just don't tell Blip that I mentioned anything about his wife's calves." He said.

"Aye aye captain." Ginny replied and although he can't see it, he just knows she's thrown in a salute.

"Get some sleep, Rookie." Mike sighed, trying to make himself comfortable. "We've made our bed, we might as well lie in it."

A pillow hit him across the face. Stunned, he looked over at Ginny; big mistake. Hearing her and smelling her was one thing, but that combined with seeing her, even with a pillow in hand ready to hit him again and a challenging look in her eyes is way too much for him to handle. At least it is until she hits him with the pillow again, snapping him back to reality. Forcing himself to think of anything (Al's gross burping snores do the trick) he grabs the pillow out of her hand. "You'd attack your own captain?" He said, trying to pull the pillow out of her grasp. Predictably she holds fast. "Is this a mutiny?"

"I'm expressing my lack of appreciation for your bad puns, gramps." Ginny shot back.

"I thought girls only started pillowfights at sleepovers if they were naked." He retorted. Ginny's grip on the pillow loosened. There's an inscrutable look on her face.

"I wouldn't know." She mumbled and Mike felt sick again. He wanted to say something, but knew that Ginny won't like being babied, even if that's not the way he means it. She turned her back to him, ending the conversation. He put the pillow back between them, lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Soon the sound of her breathing evens out and he thinks she's gone to sleep. Stealing a glance, he noted that she's curled herself up into a ball as if protecting herself from the world. It hurt him that, even in sleep, she's on the defensive. 'Of course she is' his brain whispered angrily. 'She's protecting herself from pervy Captains who suggest she share a bed with them.' Turning away he focused on trying to prepare for the next day's game.

Ginny woke up the next morning to find Mike leaning on the pillow barrier, his entire frame splayed out like a sloth on a branch. She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, but he stirred anyway, his eyes blinking open.

"What?" He grunted.

"Nothing." Ginny glanced away. He looked like an angry teddy bear and it was too precious.

"Damn right." He frowned. "Because I wouldn't even be in this position if someone hadn't stolen all the blankets."

He's right, Ginny realized as she looked down. She'd wrapped all the blankets around her like a big cocoon, leaving him with nothing. Biting her lip she looked back at Mike. He's trying to look stern, but failing as his eyes crinkle in that way that tell her he's hiding a laugh. "Oops?" She said.

Mike made a grab for the blanket and ended up pulling her along with it, dragging her towards him. She pulled back and it turned into a tug of war made up of a tangled mess of limbs, pillows, blankets and linens that ends with both of them on the floor, Mike on his back with Ginny on top of him. The blanket somehow wrapped around both of them in a way that trapped them both. The more they struggled, the more tangled the mess became.

"Truce?" Mike suggested, his beard tickling her hairline. She's got her face pressed into his neck. He smelled like sandlewood and leather. Warm and comforting. She tried to focus on his words.

"Truce." She agreed. It's freeing in a way, these last couple of hours. She wasn't the type to be invited to sleep over parties as a child, not having lots of friends because of her demanding baseball regime. This easy friendship that she and Mike have is something she'd come to count on and she was grateful for it. A situation like this could have been weird and the two of them had handled it well. He was one of the only people she allowed herself to be completely unguarded around.

"My hand's on your ass." He remarked and sure enough, it is. She wiggled slightly, causing him to laugh. "Gravity made me do it, so blame Isaac Newton." he muttered.

"Puhlease." She rolled her eyes. "Your hand is always finding its way to my ass."

"Well in absence of Dicaprio, you'll have to do." He sighed dramatically. "I'm trying really hard not to squeeze, but the muscles in my hand are cramping." He wrenches his arm out, his fingers skating over her back and she barely resisted the urge to arch against him. He uses his now free arm to pull himself out of their blanket prison. He watched in amusement as she fights to free herself from the blanket burrito. She shot him a glare.

"You're the worst, Lawson."

"Not the usual comment I get from a woman the morning after, but I'll take it." He stretched, cracking his neck and sighing. For a second it looked like he was going to say more, but he shook his head and looked away. "I'm going to the gym. Tell me what Amelia does to fix this."

It's a slap in the face and Ginny's grateful that she's looking down at the blankets and that he can't see the disappointment on her face. She was hoping for a little bit longer before reality popped their bubble.

"Yes, oh Captain, my Captain." She said.

He grunted his amusement as he went towards his bag to find some clothes. "See you out on the field, Rookie."