~7~

The calendar turned to spring. Despite my helpful suggestion that we rope off a square patch of the baseball diamond and host mud wrestling instead, Rosalie was adamant about sticking to the schedule.

"Someone could get hurt," I warned, "and everyone is definitely going to get muddy."

Elbow to elbow at her office window, we stared out over the saturated field. "Keep movement to a minimum."

"How'm'I supposed to do that?"

"Just do drills."

"Oh! Like multiplication drills? Yeah, that could work."

Her hands moved to her hips as she turned to face me. "Are you shitting me right now?"


Author's Note: He is totally shitting her. I kind of liked the idea of mud wrestling. Maybe a fic for another birhtday ... I love the 100-word drabble challenge and how it ends up creating fuckery like How'm'I :) Just want to leave a few love droplets to Lady V and Shad, my cheering squad and behind-the-scenes coaches. Love you guys! And also, Hey, Shell! Emmett's coming tomorrow! MWAH :*

XXX ~BOH