Mike's throat closed as he was confronted with the press after the game. What the hell was she doing here? The rest of the press corp was circling them; it was as though they were sharks, sensing the blood and hungry for the kill. He did the one thing he could, the one thing that would save him from having a melt down in front of cameras; he ran. Making an excuse to go to the physical therapist, he ordered an ice bath. The press respected privacy just enough to not enter this part of the club house. Shivering, he tried not to think about the cool calculating look on Rachel's face as she entered into the Padres' clubhouse. She was probably not even here for him, he told himself. After all, Ginny was way more her type of story. He swallowed, guilt flaring through him. He'd abandoned her to face Rachel alone. The rational part of him told him that she'd be fine without him, but part of him really didn't like the idea of the two of them sharing the same space. There was something about the idea that felt...wrong.
He should go back out there. He was an adult. He was 36, he shouldn't be hiding in an ice bath from his ex. He'd just made the decision to stand when voices came from outside.
"I don't think you should go in there."
That was Ginny.
"Why not?" Rachel. This was bad. Mike slid lower in the tub.
"Because..." Ginny hesitated. Mike peeked towards the windows of the physical therapy room. Through the blinds he could see the outline of Ginny and Rachel. Ginny was standing, tall, her shoulders slumped slightly. Rachel was gazing at her and even from his position, he recognized her haughty, "I know better than you" stance. Ginny, though she didn't know the pose like he did, must have sensed something about it because he saw her shift into the stance she used when she needed to focus. "Because you mess him up."
Mike felt his jaw drop. What? He doesn't know whether he's hurt or touched that she noticed.
"Excuse me?" Rachel asked.
"You mess him up." Ginny repeated, her voice stronger now, determined. "He was upset after he went to see you in LA. He got pissy the day we were rained out and he'd just seen you. You make him doubt himself. He's a person with feelings, Rachel. And whether or not you deserve it, he still loves you. You can't go in there and use that to leverage him for an angle on a story. Especially not one about me."
Rachel crossed her arms. "I think I might know him a bit better than you, Ginny." Mike can tell that she's smiling, but there's an edge to her voice. She's warning Ginny to back off or else and honestly, Mike doesn't know who he's more sorry for...Rachel, he thinks as he watches Ginny tilt her head slightly in that that way she does when she's about to deliver a particularly cutting zinger, definitely Rachel.
"If you really did then you wouldn't have cheated on him."
This time Mike can feel his jaw hit the bottom of the ice tub. How the hell could she possibly have known...although her best friends were the black versions of Sherlock and Nancy Drew. She must have picked up something from them.
Rachel is taken aback as well. "What does that have to do with anything?" She snapped.
"He doesn't trust." Ginny said. "Oh sure, he talks a big game, but at the end of the day, there's very little emotional substance. It's noise to cover up that he's missing something. After this, he doesn't think he has anything waiting for him. He's lost. I get that you wanted a personal profile on me, I gave you that interview, because I know he would have asked me to, but you do not get to go into the private physical therapy room of this clubhouse and interview my teammate about me without my permission. I saw how much talking to you messed him up in LA, I'm not letting you do that on my account."
Mike had heard enough. Standing, he stepped out of the ice bath and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around himself, he stepped into the hall.
"I'm afraid that press pass doesn't cover this area, Ms. Patrick." He said, looking at Rachel's lanyard. "If you'll please return with the rest of your coworkers." He jerked his head in the direction of the outer room. Rachel raised her head and turned, trying to leave with as much dignity as she could muster.
Ginny didn't move, staring straight ahead of her, not looking back at Mike. "How much of that did you hear?" She mumbled.
"All of it." He leaned against the wall, the stone feeling strangely warm after his icebath. "the walls be thin, Baker. Remember that for the next time you and Duarte start up with that Mami Papi kinky shit you do."
Ginny snorted. "In your dreams Lawson." She turned and the smallest hint of a Ginny Baker smile was tugging at her lips. It disappeared almost immediately. "Look, I-"
"How did you know?" He asked. "That she..." He didn't want to say it. Ginny looked at the ground as she scuffed the edge of her sneaker.
"When I was in junior high, I..." She paused. "My mom was already with Kevin and I saw them...in the kitchen, kissing." She bit her lip. "I saw the way you looked at her when she was on one of those screens at the bar. I know that look." She frowned. "Don't get me wrong, you're still a man whore, I just..."
"Aww." Mike said. "I knew you cared."
Ginny looked up, a look of bemused irritation on her face. "Your face is a beardsicle." she snapped.
"But you caaaaaare about my beardsicle." Mike teased. Ginny turned, walking away.
"I don't even know why I bothered." She muttered.
"Baker." He called after her. She stopped, turning. She was standing in the doorway, the light from the flashing cameras in the outer clubhouse just beyond the door. However in this hallway, there was only him and her. He felt strangely exposed, it wasn't that he hadn't been halfnaked in front of her before, but this...it felt as though there was something else that had been removed from him, showing her more of him he'd ever planned to show anyone after Rachel. He found it didn't scare him as much as he thought. "Thanks." Was all he managed.
Full Ginny Baker smile this time. "Well, I didn't see Dicaprio stepping up for you." She shrugged. "I may not be your prettiest teammate, but I'm your nicest."