Sammy's POV:

I rubbed my still-closed eyes with sleepy fingers, before simply deciding to roll over and go back to sleep. I flopped over onto my right shoulder, and my palm smacked something stiff.

"Oof," came the grunt from beside me. Startled, my eyes flew open, and I became conscious of green ones, equally awake, staring right back at me. I could feel the blush of mortification creeping onto my cheeks, and I glanced down at my hand. I realized with an acute rush of relief that it had landed on Tim's abs, not ... anywhere else.

"Good morning," he chuckled, smiling softly as his hand covered mine, still resting on his stomach. I bit my lip anxiously, still feeling my cheeks flaming. I could feel his stomach expanding with every breath - and he wasn't in bad shape at all...

"Morning," I managed to mumble back. I would've proceded to move my hand, but his finger had laced through mine as he stared up at the ceiling.

"I should wake up like this more often," he mused, apparently lost in thought.

"What, with me punching you in the stomach?" I joked feebly. He smiled, but answered the rhetorical question anyway.

"No, just... having you there. It's a pretty incredible feeling to wake up next to the girl you're in love with." I smiled as the nervous butterflies returned to their home in my stomach.

"Although," he added on second though, "There's one more thing needed to make this morning perfect."

"What?" I asked, curious. Instead of responding, Tim leaned over, and pressed his mouth to mine for a long moment. When he pulled back, we were both breathing slightly harder than normal.

"That," he said with a smile.

"Come in," called the manager of the Giants franchise. The door to his office opened, and in stepping the pitching, shutting the door softly behind him. He looked nervous, shuffling from side to side in his loose, grey sweats.

"Have a seat, Tim." Bruce Bochy motioned to one of the comfy leather sofas that dominated most of the room. He sat, looking on edge even slumped in the couch, half buried in pillows. Without saying a word, Bochy looked expectantly at his player, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"There's this girl," he began slowly. "And ... Boch, I'm in love with her."

The head coach nodded. Unlike other coaches, he tried to be more of a father figure to his players.

"Have you told her yet?"

"Yeah, I have. And she said it back, and.. I'm going to propose to her." He said it with finality, as though the words condemned him to a death sentence.

"Congratulations, Tim," Bruce said with a grin, standing up and walking around to clap his pitcher on his shoulder.

"But I just.. I can't focus without her anymore. Which is why I'm going to propose." He looked up timidly at the looming figure above him, and Bochy knew what was coming.

"You want me to let her come with you." Lincecum nodded in confirmation.

"She plays softball, so... Not long term. Just when she can get out... Can she share my room?"

With a small smile, the coach noticed how agitated Timmy looked. He was nearly squirming with anxiety - this girl definitely meant the world to him. Without hesitation, he nodded. He could remember back when he went to his coach with a similar expression, squirming over his girlfriend.

"Thanks, Coach." Tim grinned, all nervous energy drained from his body as he leapt up.

"Now, Tim. Don't you forget my rules about sharing rooms before game day - "

"I won't, Coach. Thanks again!" He bounded out, a new leap in his step to rejoin practice.

Bruce stood for a moment, watching Tim run by his window on the way out to the field. He chucked to himself, and sat back down. Oh, the days of young love.

Sorry, a really short chapter today. I just felt like I should get this out, since it's been sitting here for a while. (: Anyways, enjoy!