Bats, Balls, and.... Bondage!?

[Maura Blake]

The metallic clink of the scuffed baseball hitting the bat's sweet spot was music to Maura's ears. The melody chimed out Kerri's voice from behind the chain-linked fence that separated spectators from the batter's box of the narrow cage. Instead of listening to her friend's words, Maura's full attention went into watching the poetic arc of the ball as it met the netting dead center at the opposite end of the cage. Every few minutes, the metal gears of the pitching machine cranked a ball into place then hurled it into the air at an alarming speed.

"You do know that I'm very much aware that you come here when you're escaping something," Kerri announced in time with the pitch. "Usually you're here on the weekend. But today? It looks like it might rain."

Maura's swing faltered a notch, batting the ball at a sharp downward angle where it scuffed the tarp of the floor and rolled to the left. "I'm not escaping anything," Maura contradicted Kerri, lying all the while. The pitching machine quieted, ready to be fired up again once coins were administered to the control panel. She walked to the fence and lowered the bat to rest against a notch of chain link. "It's been a while since I swung a bat, I missed it. And this place," her gloved hand rose and waved to the surrounding cages, only partially occupied. "Is not half bad."

Kerri perched her sunglasses on the top of her head, framing the straight blonde locks to either sides of her temples. They were unnecessary now with the advent of dark clouds. Blue eyes studied Maura's every nuance, waiting for the initial falter of expression that would betray any lies that the woman spoke. She found it when Maura's hazel eyes surveyed the area over Kerri's shoulder and spied to two men lounging in an open-windowed sedan. Kerri noted them, recalling the same pair at the restaurant the other day and in front of her friend's apartment when they met before coming to the batting cage. While Maura took out her aggression with the bat and the ball, Kerri delighted in watching the men who flanked the cage, each taking turns with their own demonstrations. But once Maura lied, Kerri's attention veered straight to her friend and ignored the glorious biceps displays to the left and right of where they stood. "They've been trailing you. Why?"

"It has something to do with a story," Maura shrugged it off, though she used the two officers, Tucker and O'Neil, as a suitable distraction.

Kerri turned away from regarding the cops in the car, propped a hand to the fence and leaned against it. Casually dressed, she wore a yellow sweater over a pair of jeans and flat-heeled boots. "You're really starting to scare me."

"It's more of a precaution than anything else. Believe me, it's not my idea. But I've been overruled." Maura, who wore a black tee-shirt with a faded Jays' logo, an unbuttoned jersey, and a pair of gray yoga pants, planted a sneaker-clad foot on the edge of a bench. Close by was an open gym bag with an oiled glove, a sweatshirt, and a few boxes of travel-sized cereal. A half-drunk bottle of Gatorade was plucked up for a lengthy swig. "I think he's overreacting, to be honest."

Honing in on one specific word with the precision of a nuclear warhead, Kerri's blonde brow rose in blatant question. "He? Your editor?"

"No, a detective who's working the case I'm---" she stalled herself with another sip of the fruit-flavored drink. The words 'involved in' very nearly slipped out. "... covering... thinks it might be wise. But like I said," pausing, Maura tipped the nearly empty bottle her friend's way for no real rhyme or reason. "He's overreacting. He actually stayed the... Hey, do you have any quarters?"

"Oh nice try, Maura!" Kerri laughed outright at her friend's attempt to change the subject. "He stayed the ... night? With you? Did you... ya'know?"

"No!" Maura half-sputtered and half-laughed the word.

"Oh," the dejected slump of Kerri's shoulders visibly revealed her disappointment. "Is he a jerk? Hideous? Bald?"

"Yes sometimes," Maura tipped a nod before finishing the Gatorade and pitched the empty bottle into a blue recycling bin. "No... and no." She turned then to hide the glint in her hazel eyes, gripping the bat with a curl of her fingers. "He's... interesting."

"How so?"

"A few reasons, really. But I need to -- or should -- keep my distance from him. At least anything outside of a professional relationship." Maura could feel the weight of Kerri's gaze on the back of her head. To appease her friend's curiosity and spare herself from the regard, she continued with two simple words. "It's complicated." But when the heavy pressure of a blue-eyed stare made her uncomfortable, Maura glanced over her shoulder and used her free hand to push away a braided pig-tail. "He's insanely attractive, all right? Y'happy? He's got a smile that makes me want him to go fifty-fucking-NINE shades of grey on me."

Kerri wasn't sure which made her laugh more -- Maura's raised voice in time with the colorful expression or the man in the neighboring cage who overheard it, turned, and then proceeded to get smacked in the middle of the back with a fastball. Or the distant sound of laughter coming from the parked car in the nearby lot. "Well, you said it's been over two yea---" anything Kerri planned to say on -that- account got silenced by a stare from the bat-wielding journalist. "All right--- so this is a problem..." Kerri's words stalled in within the break of syllables, turning her full attention back to Maura. "... because?"

"It just is," Maura groused, slamming more quarters into the machine. There was about an hour left, maybe less, before the skies were going to open up with a baptizing rain over the city.