So, it's spring break for me—

All I have is one single word—

Wee!

With Love,

Natalie

And now, ladies and gents, the long awaited Batter Up: Chapter 12. (You have my VERY unusual sleeping habits to thank or curse for this one as it's 6:02 in the morning and I've yet to go to sleep.)

"Batter up—hear that call—the time has come for one and all… to play ball." ("A League of Their Own", of course.)

All right. I'm normally a very patient person, but this just was not doing it for me. I didn't understand what in the hell was taking them so long—it was there, we all knew it was, but every time one of them took the 'high road', so to speak.

If I were any other kind of person I would give up. But luckily, I'm the type to always get what I want—so I was going to give this one more go, and this time, it had better work. Or else… or else…well, I really didn't have an alternative, but you can just imagine what my pissed off mind would come up with—and I can assure you, it would NOT be pretty.

So, I knew that the doctors, no matter how stupid they were in love, were relatively smart people—and I had already pushed my luck with the last letters. Oh no, I needed to step it up a notch. I needed to devise another sneakier plan. And I knew just what to do. Oh, yes, it was time for hard ball, now.

I saw him walk in the doors at that moment. The timing couldn't have been better if I'd prayed about it… or something. Anyway, I walked up to him, smiled and asked how he was, the smile carrying over into my voice.

"I'm fine." He replied, a bit of a suspicious smile playing on his face. He definitely knew something was up—it was rare that I approached him the minute he walked in the door, and even rarer that I spoke with such candor and happy intonations in my voice where he was concerned.

Ah, hell, I might as well just come out with it.

"Well—I need you to do me a favor." I said.

"Hm mm… and what would this favor entail, precisely?"

"Oh, nothing big… just a phone call and an assumed identity."

"Is this for your little game?" He asked, smiling.

"Well, it's not really little, it's basically the World Series—but, yes, it does have something to do with that."

"I don't know if I'll be able to help you out."

"Why not?" I asked, hearing the teasing in his voice.

"Well, because I'm not sure what I get out of this deal…"

"How about the satisfactory knowledge that you're helping to make two people happy…?" I tried, knowing that wouldn't work.

"Hmmm, as happy as that knowledge makes me, I'm going to have to say that's a big ol' fat no." He said.

I frowned. I really needed him to do this, and I knew he would—but, what would he want? "Well, you can come along—if you'd like—though I think you already knew that."

"Of course I can come along—but that's not what I want either. So, my answer is still no."

I tried a different approach—maybe he was looking for politeness. "Please?" I tried.

"Polite, my dear, but N-O spells no."

I sighed. I guess I would have to ask him, which is what he wanted all along. Damn it, he always got what he wanted. "Fine, I give up—what do you want?"

Throughout our conversation his eyes had a playful look in them—but the moment I asked him what he wanted, his eyes turned serious as he looked into my eyes. At that moment, I was pretty sure I'd opened up a sizeable can of worms, so to speak.

He leaned down so that his mouth was pressed to my ear—he took a deep breath, which made me shiver, by the way—and exhaled one word: "You."

At that I felt my knees give way. Holy Shit! Please excuse the language, but you have to realize that he caught me completely off guard with that one. I swallowed. Hard. There suddenly seemed to be a huge lump in my throat and my mouth had become excruciatingly dry. My saliva had apparently abandoned me because my mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and help was not on the way.

I inhaled, trying to summon my inner strength, so that my voice could sound noble. But, apparently my inner strength had gone on vacation with my saliva as it was nowhere to be found. I sure hope they were having fun on their beach in Tahiti, because I was dying here.

"Me?" I asked—the cliché response coming out breathy—as I tried to process that.

"Yes, you. But surely, you knew that?" He questioned.

Did I? Did I know that? I'm pretty sure it was news to me. Okay, well it was new to the part of my brain that acknowledged things. To the part of my brain that liked to dance around the truth it was common knowledge.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you knew that already." Damn him, he knew what I meant, I could tell by the gleam in his eyes—he was just toying with me.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." I still sounded breathless—I was.

Apparently all of our idiotic junior high history teachers were right—surprise surprise general public, history really DOES repeat itself!

"I mean that I want you. I want you to be with me. I want to date you—after this whole thing is over—which will hopefully be soon—I want you and I to go on a date. Alone."

"We've been there before." I said—God, I hated my voice when it sounded like this. My vocal chords have betrayed me as well—those little turncoats.

"I know we have. But, really, you and I both know that neither one of us ever left 'there.'"

Oh yeah, he was right all right. I still wanted him, too.

"So?" he questioned, after my silence.

"So…" I hesitated.

"Do you want me to do you the favor or not?" He smiled, knowing I would never say yes just to get him to do it—because he'd do it anyway.

I took a deep breath "Yes." I replied. "Yes, I want you to do the favor."

"Good." He said. "Now, the 64 thousand dollar question—what do you want?" He held two questions in his eyes, and he was daring me to answer the unspoken one. Oh, I never, ever back down from a challenge.

"You." I said simply, as though it were quite apparent. Which, I'm pretty damn sure it was.

"Good—glad we're on the same base." He smiled, proud of his little joke. I rolled my eyes. "Now, the other 64 thousand dollar question—what's this so-called favor?"

Elizabeth Corday walked into the surgical lounge and poured herself a cup of coffee. It had been a long day, and for some reason, she couldn't get Robert off of her mind. She absolutely hated that—but, it was what it was—and it was ever persistent.

She sighed and sat down in the chair. Just as her back sank into the chair, a woman in scrubs opened the door.

"Dr. Corday?" She inquired.

"Yes?" Perfect timing, she thought sarcastically.

"You have a phone call on line 2."

She sighed. "Okay, thank you."

She walked over to the phone and pressed the blinking light next to the number 2.

"Dr. Corday." She said authoritatively.

"Dr. Corday, hello." A nasal voice said on the other end.

"Hello." She responded curtly.

"Hi. My name is Dr. O'Grady, I'm sure you remember me, and I'm equally sure you are not entirely too happy with me, either. But, I can assure you that I'm normally not a very flaky person at all. Usually I make my engagements, every single one of them, on time. But, for some reason, extenuating circumstances have prevented me from attending our scheduled meetings, despite their utter importance." The man on the other line paused.

She sighed. "What can I do for you, Dr. O'Grady?" she questioned, ignoring his excuses.

"Well, it really is imperative that I speak with both you and Dr. Romano as soon as possible, I've just been unable to attend our prior appointments."

"Right, you've said that." She said, her patience running thin.

"Of course. Well, I contacted Kerry Weaver, and she patched me through to you—I just wanted to apologize and see if there was any way you could meet me at The Olive Branch tonight at 7:30? It really is important that I speak to both of you in person."

"And why can't you come to the hospital?"

"Well," he hesitated momentarily "Uh, well, I have a day job from which I am unable to take any time off—so I need to schedule all meetings at 7:30—and to be quite honest, I prefer to speak on neutral territories."

She considered this for a moment—and then thought about seeing Robert again. That made up her mind. "Okay. Fine. But, you'll be there this time?" She questioned.

"Yes, I will be there this time."

She accepted this for what it was worth, which wasn't much, and agreed. "Okay. I'll see you then." She hung up the phone.

She didn't like this O'Grady fellow. He never kept his appointments, and there was something incredibly odd yet familiar about his voice. Oh well, she shrugged it off, and went back to work—all the while anticipating another night with Robert—though she knew she shouldn't be thinking in such a manner.

In his office, Robert Romano hung up the phone. This O'Grady guy sounded familiar—he better show up, this time, too. Or he was going to be mad as hell.

Okay, no, he wouldn't be mad as hell. Because if he didn't, that would mean he would get to spend more time with Elizabeth—a thought that pleased him greatly.

In fact, he found himself hoping that he wouldn't show up.

He left his office, smiling widely.

"What are you so happy about?" A voice said from behind him, as he shut his office door.

He turned around to face the voice, and the pretty face that went with it. "Oh, nothing. I just received a little call from O'Grady."

"Oh, yeah, I got that call, too. Do you think we should talk to Weaver about this?"

His smile faded, no, not a good idea—Weaver might tell them not to go, after all. "Nah, I don't think that's necessary."

"Why not?" She questioned.

"I just don't." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Why were you smiling, then? If you'd just gotten off the phone with O'Grady?" She asked him, genuinely curious.

He took a deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath. He could do this. Oh, no wait, that was supposed to be phrased, Could he do this? He thought he could—and he was damn well going to try.

"Well, because I'm pretty sure he's not going to show up."

"And that makes you happy because….."

He inhaled again. "Well, it's simple really." He stepped closer to her.

"Simple?" She said, her voice coming out in a small huff—his proximity was not helping the situation. Her attraction to him was stronger now, more than ever, and she did not need to be feeling this right now.

"Oh yes, it's very simple."

He said, taking another step toward her. She backed up. He stepped closer. She backed up. He stepped closer, yet again. She backed away—into a wall. She was trapped—there was nowhere for her to go.

He looked her in the eye. "Do you want to know how simple?"

She looked away, afraid to see the intensity in his eyes. He brought a finger under her chin and turned her face to look at him. "I said, do you want to know how simple?"

She finally croaked out a "yes."

"Well, you see, Elizabeth, if O'Grady doesn't show up—that means that it's going to be just you and me again—a thought that actually pleases me to no end. It's as simple as that. It IS simple, right?" He asked, his mouth only inches from hers.

She breathed out a "Yes." Her breath hitting his lips. Sweet Jesus, this man had reduced her to monosyllables. It was nearly a miracle.

"Hm, good. I guess it's because of the lesson my high school English teacher taught me."

"Oh." Was all she could manage. Good Lord in Heaven, she was never ever ever ever ever EVER like this. Never in her life. Ever. What this man could apparently do to her.

"Would you like to know what lesson that was?"

Interesting approach—she was hot and bothered, and she damn well was curious about what the lesson would be.

"Yes."

TBC.

What is this lesson, you ask?

Well, if you don't know, use your imagination…and if you do… well, use your imagination. Until I strike again, of course!

There will be more to come, my darlings.

BTW, Tess—I'm tryin'. How am I doing? ; )

Natalie