Baseball Slash

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The First Inning

"PLAY BALL!"

The game was on. The Red Sox were spread across the field, Pedro was on the mound, the Yankees were at bat, and Harry was desperately trying to explain some of the finer points of baseball to Draco.

"Yes, the batter is supposed to try to hit the ball, but the pitcher doesn't want him to hit it."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed together. "That makes no sense. If he doesn't want the beater to hit it -"

"Batter."

" - then he shouldn't throw it to him in the first place."

Harry sighed. "A good pitch is one that goes through the strike zone, or fools the batter into thinking that it's going through the strike zone, but the batter can't hit it."

"It makes sense that you're cheering for the Skankees," said the loud woman from behind him - Yvette, according to the second woman, "if you don't know a damn thing about baseball."

Harry bit his lip nervously as Draco turned around to speak to her. "With only one ball, and one beater -"

"Batter," Harry corrected emphatically.

The second woman, Yvette's sister, Michelle, chuckled.

Draco glared at Harry. "Only one batter at a time, what's there to know? This is rather dull. The ball doesn't even - oomph!"

Harry had elbowed Draco in the gut, but not before the raising some obvious suspicion.

"The ball doesn't even what?" Michelle asked curiously, but Yvette interrupted her.

"What kind of sport would play with more than one ball?" she snapped. "Leave it to a Yankees fan to want extra... Oh wait, I know which balls you're talking about now. Don't worry, the Yankees' extra balls get plenty of action in the dugout."

Harry tried to cover his face with his cap.

"Excellent," Draco drawled. "I'll be sure to watch for those."

"Enough?" Harry whimpered from under the bill of his cap. "Please, enough?"

"Why don't you go sneak down to the Yankees locker room?" Yvette shot back, completely ignoring Harry. "You'll probably find Jeter in there during the seventh inning stretch, wanking off to a picture of A-Rod."

Michelle put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Yvette... just watch the game and leave the poor idiot alone."

Yvette made a face. "What's the fun of that?" But she sat back and turned her attention to the field again.

Harry pulled up the bill of his cap and flashed Michelle a grateful smile.

The crack of a bat caught everyone's attention, followed by a round of cheering.

"HA! He hit it!" Draco cried as he burst into applause, then he quickly stopped. "Wait, Harry, why are you cheering?"

"Because he hit the ball, but he hit it foul. One strike against Jeter." Harry grinned widely.

"But he hit it!"

"Yes, and he hit it out of bounds. Are you going to get me that beer yet?"

"I see no reason." He craned his neck to look pointedly at the field. "I'm too busy watching the beater."

"Batter." Harry attempted guilt though puppy-eyes. "Come on, Draco. It's my birthday. I'm being good. I want my beer now."

"Wait a minute," interrupted the loud woman. "It's his birthday, and you won't even get him a beer? It figures a Yankees fan wouldn't even have enough decency and class to buy his own boyfriend a beer on his birthday. No class, I tell you."

"Excuse me, but is it my imagination, or did you just insinuate that I, Draco Malfoy, have no class?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, stood and mumbled something about going to the ladies' room. Yvette didn't seem to notice as she left. "I didn't insinuate anything. I spelled it out plainly, otherwise a Yankees fan would never understand. Like I said, no class. And a weird name."

"Think my name is funny?" Draco was now turned around completely, with his back to the field.

"Yes," came the blunt answer.

Harry slunk as deep into his chair as he could, trying to block out the sound of his boyfriend arguing with the American Muggle. When a third voice - a gruff male voice - joined the argument, Harry began to seriously fear for his boyfriend's life. He was torn between watching the game, and attempting to intervene, but the third out distracted everyone, and the Yankees were sent to the field without scoring. Everyone cheered, and Harry relaxed a bit.

"BATTING FIRST FOR THE RED SOX, JOSE OFFERMAN!"

The crowd roared, and Harry had to stop himself from bouncing in his seat. The Red Sox. Up to bat. And he was here to see it. In person. All he needed was his -

"Have a beer, birthday boy!"

A plastic cup of fizzy, frosty beer was held out in front of him, and Michelle was grinning broadly. "I figured, between my sister, and your boyfriend, you're never going to get a beer."

Harry felt his face light up as he accepted the drink, and he was about to thank her when Draco interrupted.

"HEY! You're buying my boyfriend alcohol! You're trying to intoxicate him and seduce him, I'm sure! Well, miss, I can assure that Harry is quite gay, and quite taken, thank you very much!"

Michelle collapsed into her seat, laughing. "Don't worry, I'm not interested."

If anything, Draco seemed even more furious at that statement. "Are you saying my boyfriend isn't good enough for you?"

The woman almost spilled her own beer on herself, she laughed so hard.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, confused now.

The loud one answered him. "She prefers the ladies." She rolled her eyes, then turned towards her sister. "And how the hell did you get beer? You don't turn 21 for two weeks!"

Michelle seemed very pleased with herself as she sipped her beer casually. "Simple. I flashed a guy."

Yvette seemed awed. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Draco shuddered. "Urgh... girl bits. Harry, finish that beer quickly. I'll buy you a second one. And a third if you want."

Harry nodded as he sipped his beer contentedly and looked back out at the field just in time to see a ground ball to Jeter. Offerman was thrown out at first.

"That's it, we need peanuts," Yvette said. "HEY! PEANUT GUY!"

Draco rubbed his ear in annoyance.

A teenager in a yellow shirt standing down near the front of the bleachers carrying a shoulder bag looked up. He was obviously a snack vender, and he reminded Harry vaguely of Stan Shunpike. Yvette held up her hands in a catching pose, and a second later, a large packet of peanuts sailed over the crowd, missed Draco's head by three inches, and landed securely in Yvette's hands. The performance got a lazy round of applause from the surrounding fans, who seemed quite accustomed to it.

"Is that how you Mu - people serve food around here?" Draco sniffed. "By throwing it at people?"

"Only the peanuts and cracker jacks, Yankee boy."

Draco bristled.

Behind Harry, Michelle was pulling out her wallet and passing a ten dollar bill down along the line of seats. The vender was standing at the end of the row, and a moment later, the exact change was passed back. Michelle pocketed it and said, "I'm always amazed at how honest people here are with your money. Never had so much as a quarter taken from me."

Harry nodded, and elbowed Draco, hoping to get him to notice something positive about the Muggles around Boston, but Draco was still glaring at Yvette. He needed to distract them. "So, why did you need peanuts so suddenly?" he asked in a distinctly conversational tone.

Yvette finally dropped her death-stare from Draco to answer Harry. "Oh, we get peanuts at every game. It's lucky." She ripped open the bag and dug in. Michelle took a handful as well, and dropped a few in Harry's hand.

Draco wrinkled up his nose in distaste. "I hate peanuts."

Yvette glared darkly at him. "You would."

Harry turned back towards the field in time to see Trot Nixon foul off a pitch on a full count. Harry cracked open a peanut shell. This was definitely going to be a long game. He'd need all the luck he could get.

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