Buster's POV:

Dragging my luggage behind me, I walked into the clubhouse, feeling like an undercover FBI agent. I was dressed in a suit and tie, as was the requirement for the Giants, and fairly large sunglasses covered most of my face so that I would avoid being reconized. Wilson walked beside me, all of his uniform in a simple backpack on his back. We chatted casually as we walked through the large swinging doors, declaring the Giants logo.

Stepping into the riot known as the changing room, I did my usual - change quickly, and sit around joining in on the team chatter. Today, it was Huff and Burrell who were walking around naked, somehow comfortable with displaying their bodies to the 40-odd other men in the room.

I deliberately looked away from the laughing, naked men, and my eyes found the clock on the wall instead. It read 7:00, fifteen minutes 'til game time. I stood up, and walked over to Timmy, who was starting today.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked him, sitting down next to him on the bench.

He shrugged. "Same old, same old." I turned, recognizing the moodiness in his voice. Moodiness, as I knew from experience, was not something that sat well with Tim Lincecum when he was on the mound. Bochy expected me to talk out anything that would affect his pitcher on the mound - yet another thing I had learned.

"What's up?" I made sure that my voice was stern enough that he knew that I wasn't going to let him get away with not telling me, but gentle enough to tell him he had a friend to turn to, a shoulder to lean on.

He sighed. "I'm doomed, Buster." Reaching up, he ran his hand through his hair, which was now inching past his shoulders.

"Doomed?"

"With Sammy," he clarified. Uh oh. Relationship problems did horrors to the mind and emotions.

"What happened?" I asked cautiously. Please don't say you broke up, I willed mentally. That would destroy his state of mind..

He murmured something under his breath.

"What's that? Sorry, I didn't catch it." I asked, leaning slightly closer. He lifted his head.

"No, it's okay, I'm just getting used to saying it." He took a deep breath. "Buster, I'm in love with her."

I grinned, relief flooding through me, and clapped him on the back lightly.

"Congrats, man." He shook his head, black hair swirling in a tornado around his head.

"No, that's not a good thing." he stressed.

"Why not?" I asked, puzzled.

"Because she doesn't love me," he murmured. Oh, crap.

"You told her, and she said she didn't love you?"

"No, I haven't told her yet. I can't, Buster." Whew. Close one.

"Tim, she loves you. It's pretty obvious." He shook his head.

"We've only been dating for a few weeks. She can't." I stood up, patting him on the back as he rose, too.

"Trust me, she does. You'll know when to tell her, and she'll say it back." I was confident about this fact. It was clear, in the way they interacted, that they were both head over heels for each other.

He simply sighed in response. "I hope so. Ever since I realized it last night, I've been wanting to call her, just to say it - but I chicked out every time." He rose his head to look at me, a small half-smile on his face.

I shrugged. "Just put it out of your mind, for now. We've got a game to win." He nodded, and side by side, we walked out to the bullpen for his pitching warm-ups.

Sammy's POV:

I smiled widely as my cell phone began to ring. I knew it was Timmy; he called me every day after his game. I picked up with without looking at the ID.

"Hey," I said, already anticipating the sound of his voice.

"Sam, it's Buster Posey." Automatically, I frowned, before shaking it off.

"Hey, Buster. What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you - are you free on the last day of our homestand?" I scrolled through my mental calendar.

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"Kristen's throwing a party for the team and their significant others. Timmy doesn't know he's going yet, though. I wanted to make sure you were free, because I'm positive that he'll go if you're going." I laughed.

"Sure. Where and what time?"

"It's going to be at AT&T - Boch wants to do a quick hitting practice, and Kristen wants to just go ahead and have a picnic. She says that all the ladies can get comfortable with each other while watching the guys hit. Kristen wants everyone assembled by five, and I'm pretty sure Timmy will want to pick you up." I sighed to myself.

"Can you tell him to just go ahead and hit, and I'll get myself there? He needs the hitting practice. But don't tell him I said that last part," I added as an afterthought. Posey laughed on the other end of the line.

"Sure, Sam. Great to hear you'll be there."

"You bet. Good luck tomorrow!"

"Thanks. Bye, Sam."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone, mentally berating myself for being disappointed when I realized it was Buster. I mean, he was a great guy, and an awesome catcher. I was lucky to say that I'd even met him, and here I was, disappointed because he called me!

My phone rang again, interrupting my internal rant. This time, I made sure to check the caller ID before picking it up. When I read the name, I grinned.

"Hey, Timmy."

"Hey, Sammy. What's up?"

"Not much. Just stalking your Facebook page, which you're never on, by the way." I shifted the phone, clenched between my shoulder and ear as I continued to browse through the photos, some not very flattering, and some taking my breath away. He laughed.

"No, because I'm too busy talking to my beautiful girlfriend." I blushed, thankful that he couldn't see it.

"So? I'm talking to my amazingly hot boyfriend, and I'm on Facebook."

"Well, I'm playing travel baseball nationwide for three-fourths of the year!"

"Fine, you got me." I conceeded defeat. "I can't top that. And you're playing excellent ball, as was proven today." Today, he'd gone with eight K's, and seven strong, scoreless innings. And to top it all off, he got a hit!

"But you're batting in the five slot, and pitching excellently." I grinned, happy that he'd found the time to watch at least part of my game.

"Someone's been paying attention."

"I've seen all your games," he confessed. Slightly surprised, I raised my eyebrows.

"But some of my Cal games overlap the Giants game...?" I played for the Cal Berkeley college team, where I was finishing off my P.h.D. in veterinary medicine.

"I record them, and watch them back later. You seriously think I'd miss a game of yours? And besides, all the sport-centers on TV talk about you. It would have been impossible for me to miss every part of your games."

SportsCenter was talking about me? I didn't know that...

"Why would they talk about me?"

"Well, you're the latest ball renaissance-woman, so to speak. You can hit, you can pitch, you can play a solid third, and you can play outfield. If only they knew how much you do outside of softball, too."

"And if only they knew precisely how lovable you are outside of dominating on the mound." Shocked at what had just come out of my mouth, my eyes widened. That had slipped.

"Thanks." Timmy said, a smile evident in his voice. I grinned, leaning back in my desk chair, and looked up at the calendar hanging above my desk.

"That was #2 against Mariners, right?"

"Yeah. I'm shocked that Ms-stalk-everything-Giants didn't know that," he teased. I laughed.

"I knew it, I just wanted to confirm. As you said, I stalk everything Giant." We laughed for a moment before falling into silence together.

"One more game, and then you'll be back in CA later that night, correct?"

"Yeah." He sighed, and mumbled something that sounded like "One more game without her, c'mon, Timmy, you can do this."

"And the day after that, Sammy. The day of the first game. Can I pick you up around four? There's somewhere I want to take you." I nodded to myself.

"I'm going to be at Cal, practicing. It ends at four, though, so that's perfect, if you're okay with picking me up from there... ?" I turned the last sentence into a question.

"Sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow, darling." He paused for a moment. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"... Never mind. Bye, talk to you tomorrow." He hung up before I could respond, the small click sounding in my ear.

Long chapter today! Hope you enjoyed (: