Cal hadn't been to Owen's practices because he mostly worked at that time in the afternoon. Gillian had though, when she could wrangle a free afternoon, and she informed Cal that their son was actually quite good at baseball. Owen played third base when he wasn't batting and was third in the order, which Cal deduced, meant he was quite good, even though he knew that the policy was 'every kid had a turn'. This was the first chance Cal had had to actually see his son in action and he had to admit, aside from the pride of seeing their youngest slug the ball deep into left field and make an incredibly exciting out during the first innings, the entire atmosphere was thrilling. Parents and other children in the stands were decked out in league colours, with caps and shirts and other merchandise, including little flags that waved frantically when something exciting was happening.

It was the first game of the season; Owen's team were the Georgetown Giants. It was the bottom of the second inning and so far, Georgetown were up by three runs. Owen had made it home once, been run out once and had hit home two of his other players. The kid was good, even for eight year old clumsiness and a shorter stature in comparison to his teammates of the same age. It just went to show, size wasn't everything.

Lewis had found a few guys from some of his classes at school, and wandered off to sit with them, two rows further down the bleachers. He was mostly talking, not watching the game. Cal glanced down to watch him for a moment, his hands moving absently has he conversed with his friends, who did not sign; habits die hard. Lewis had picked tennis as his physical activity of choice but Cal was more worried about the reason why he had opted for an individual sport in the first place. Cal had told Gillian about the conversation he'd had with their eldest that night, later, when they were in bed and alone. While she had agreed Lewis being active was a good idea, she didn't agree that they should let the remarks of Lewis's classmates go without a response. This was not the first time they had dealt with negative commentary on his hearing aids but Cal countered there wasn't much they could do without going down to the school and embarrassing their kid further; such was the nature of bullying. What they could do was continue to teach Lewis to be strong. And Cal had every intention of doing that. He hoped he already was.

Cal turned his attention to his wife next. She was really getting into the game. Applauding and cheering loudly and booing the umpire when he called a player out. Admittedly, Cal hadn't exactly seen a lot of baseball, so there were moments where he was wondering what was going on or what rule had been broken, but he was still enjoying it immensely, sitting in the stands in the brilliant Saturday morning sunshine. Almost worth getting out of his perfectly nice warm and wife-filled bed for.

"Are you watching me or the game?"

Cal gave a grin and Gillian turned her head to smile at him, her blue eyes bright. "How do you even know?" He half complained.

"When you're staring? Eyes in the back of my head."

"They came in about the same time your milk did, didn't they?"

"Cal!" Gillian reprimanded him sharply, glancing quickly around to see if anyone was overhearing. Cal chuckled and she smacked a hand against his upper arm. "Time and place," she warned. "And yes." Cal laughed again and she gave him another bright grin and reached for his hand to squeeze. Her fingers were cold so Cal encased her hand in both of his.

"Can you believe our youngest is eight and kickin' arse out there?"

Gillian's smile widened. "No," she shook her head. "Well the kicking ass part yeah. Takes after his Dad."

"I'd like to meet this guy some day," Cal noted facetiously. Gillian rolled her eyes heavily and nudged him with her shoulder. She refocused back on the game and, dismissed, Cal turned back to pay attention too. The innings was over and now the teams would swap over. The Giants would go back to batting for the top of the third while the Potomac Pacers spread out across the sixty foot diamond. Cal went back to day dreaming. He didn't particularly enjoy seeing other kids do their thing. He wanted to see his kids. Lewis didn't have a competition game for another few weeks. He was starting from scratch. Owen seemed a natural and Cal had no idea where he got this inherited ability from. Certainly wasn't him. Maybe Gillian was hiding some sort of sporting prowess.

Lewis approached where they were sitting. "Dad can I have five dollars?"

"What for?" Cal looked up at him making a 'wh' hand gesture with one hand while the other still held his wife's. Lewis had let his hair grown longer and it was curly at the ends again. It was also in his eyes but that was exactly how he liked it.

"They're selling hot dogs over there," he pointed, making an 'eat' gesture.

"I'll see if I've got anythin'," Cal shifted his leg to get to his wallet in his pocket. He opened it up and pulled out some bills. "I'll give you a tenna if you get me one."

Gillian turned her attention to him again now that he had rescinded his other hand as well. "What are you doing?"

"Lew's gettin' me a hot dog. Want one?"

"No thanks."

"Somethin' else?"

"They have soda Mum." Lewis inserted his middle and ring finger of his right hand into the fist of his left, pulled them out rapidly and flatted his palm down on top of the same fist. It looked a bit like he had popped the tab of a can.

"I'll have a soda," Gillian agreed. She used 'drink'.

Cal handed Lewis a ten dollar bill and Lewis turned to walk away. Cal asked him for change and Lewis turned back surprised, but Cal gave him a grin. "I was kiddin'. You can have the rest." 'Joke' was making two 'X' hand shapes with the right above the left, moving forward twice, almost like striking a match. Lewis took off. "Thanks Dad," Cal muttered.

The kid on the base struck the ball hard. It made a loud cracking sound, that drew Cal's attention back to the game, and bounced off at a funny angle, coming to stop halfway between the pitcher, the third baseman and the back stop. They all looked at it while the parents in the crowd screamed out for someone to get it and for the batter to run. The kid tossed his bat and took off while the pitcher, third baseman and back stop told each other to get the ball. The batter ran to second before the back stop jogged to pick it up. She threw it to third, while also informing the poor kid that he was the one who was supposed to get it. Cal laughed while the coach issued instructions from his 'dug out'.

The next batter came up, swung three times and was declared out. He walked away, head and shoulders slumped and then it was Owen's turn again. "Go Owen!" Gillian called, clapping her hands, sitting up straighter to see, bouncing in her seat a little. Owen was right handed and he looked cute in his uniform, gloves and helmet as he stepped up to the plate. Everything always seemed slightly too big for him and the gear was no exception. His first swing was a strike. The second ball came in so close against his chest he had to step back and stumbled in the dirt. The Umpire warned the pitcher and Cal wanted to stand up to jeer. Gillian reached out quickly to put a hand on his thigh and he was pretty sure that was to steady herself from saying something but it also grounded Cal and reminded him to keep his mouth tamed.

Owen righted himself again, brushed off the dust a bit and took a few practice swings. He was such a little dude. He struck the next pitch and the ball bounced away casually to left field. It was retrieved easily but he made it to first and his team mate advanced to third in that time too. Lewis returned with their food and a drink.

"Where's yours?" Cal asked his son, handing the soft drink to his wife on his left.

"I didn't have enough hands," Lewis explained.

"Have you got enough for you?" Cal asked, meaning money, but not managing the sign with one of his hands occupied. Lewis nodded and walked away again, clambering over the feet of other spectators. While Cal had been talking, Owen had advanced to second. The game stayed that way for a while. The next batter struck out.

"Can I have a bite?" Gillian requested.

Cal handed the half eaten hotdog over and watched her take a bite. "Yeah you love a good bit of sausage don't you?" Cal murmured.

Gillian just about choked, her eyes going wide with shock. "For god's sake would you stop?" She growled, nudging him roughly with her shoulder. Cal laughed. "We're in public," she added on a low murmur. "Don't make me implement new rules with you." She finished with a glare.

"What rules?"

"No flirting in public rules, or nothing rude in public."

"That sounds like a dumb rule," Cal mumbled.

"I may even extend it to touch."

Cal crossed his arms over his chest and sulked.

"If you don't behave, I will make you."

She had trained him to never leave a mark on her skin that could be seen by someone other than them. So there was a chance that she might

"Can't teach an old dog new tricks," Cal shot back, unfolding his arms again, aware that they were in public and while it might be funny to act like a hurt child with her, it would make him look like an idiot if someone else was paying attention to them.

"Want. To. Bet?" She gave him a glare.

"Can I have some lemonade?"

Gillian nodded. Cal reached between her legs where she was holding the drink upright. He thought about doing something naughty like running his hands up the inseam of her jeans but thought better of it. She would make a scene if he took it too far. And he was at his child's minor league baseball game. And she could be really serious about appropriate public behaviour, especially when he threatened to take it too far.

Owen advanced to third and was in for a chance of getting home. The game got tenser for a moment as each successive batter struck out. With the bases loaded, this was about the time the batting order should produce some solid hitters again. Cal recognised Owen's friend Scott stepping up to the plate. He was older, so taller and bigger, and he was a strong batter. He slugged the ball far into the outfield and sprinted for first. Owen raced to home plate, then along the row of his teammates, high fiving all the way down to first base, where he also high fived Scott, who had made it there safely.

"Yes Owen!" Cal called out, clapping loudly, the can of drink between his feet. Even from back there he could see the massive grin on his son's face. Cal scanned the line at the food cart and found Lewis nearly at the front of the queue. Cal turned back to Gillian, pleased. She was clapping loudly too, just about out of her seat. "Oi, where's my hotdog?" She turned to him guiltily. "You ate it all?"

Gillian gave him an apologetic smirk, her eyes bright. "You know how I love a good bit of meat," she retorted softly. Cal's mouth dropped open at the hypocrisy but she leaned in to seal it again with a kiss.

"Fine then I'm drinkin' the rest of this," Cal told her as she pulled away again, taking another swig from the can.