Gimme a break, Kit-Kat!

[Freight Train]

"No, no," she replied with a flippant, dismissive wave. "But in those rare moments when I catch a game without him, Dad always says to have a beer for him." As if on cue, her phone cheered like a stadium full of people, and Train snatched it out of the floorboard. "Yep, here it is. You sure your mutant power isn't to be lucky? Enjoy! Have a beer for me. Love, Dad." She smirked to herself as she pocketed the phone. "Dad always has one when he watches baseball. But I ask because in all the times previous, I haven't had a cool friend to help me fake a pic with one and make him hit the ceiling. Whaddaya say, Kat? Help me stop his tired old joke."

[Taya Robbins]

Taya laughed and shook her head. "Aha, sorry, but I'm eighteen, and you're on your own. I can smell it all the way up the stairwell if anybody's been drinking beer in my apartment building. Too bad Riley's not coming with us. Oh, have I told you about her owls?"

While Taya updated Train on the exploits of her three feathered roommates, the 110 took them within spitting distance of Dodger Stadium. After several anxious minutes of circling immense parking lots in search of an open spot, they were trekking across acres of asphalt along alongside an ever-thickening crowd of humanity toward the stadium. Taya perched a Dodgers cap between her ears to block the all-out assault of the midday sun, but it didn't do anything to ward off curious eyes. Second and third glances tended to follow her everywhere she went.

"Okay, so, confession time?" she said. "The only Dodgers player I actually know about is Manny Ramirez. Now, if this was UCLA men's lacrosse, I'd be all over it."

[Freight Train]

Train stuck her tongue out at Taya. She'd honestly forgotten how old the taller mutant was. She'd had her pegged as being at least 20. Ah, well. There'd be other days to troll her dad. The mid-western juggernaut listened patiently through all the talk of Riley--a winged girl with owl pets, or something. Train couldn't have cared less, and felt a little bad for her lack of interest in Taya's roommate, but shorty wasn't interested in new friends at the moment, not when she had so much catching up to do with her old ones.

Train walked nonchalantly through the lot, ignoring the stares as best she could. As it turned out, much as she racked her brain, Train couldn't name any Dodgers players. She knew a few of the key players for the Reds, but didn't care to show Taya up with it. She had a mind to pick on her about the lacrosse team, tho.

"Lacrosse is a nerd sport. Bet you don't even know the rules! You're just there to check out the man-booty."

She grinned broadly, squinting half from the smile and half from the sun in her eyes. Of course, Taya was big fan of lacrosse, and Train knew it. Let it be a lesson to Kit-Kat: When the Freight Train wants pranks and trolling, she's gonna get it!

[Taya Robbins]

Taya playfully bumped her elbow through Train's mop of short, black hair - she was one of the few people over the age of ten who was short enough for Taya to do that.

"Yeah, whatever," she said. "Don't make me hit you with my crosse. Besides, the man-booty is way better in lacrosse than in baseball."

And, on that note, it was kinda too bad Antonio didn't play. Wait, no! Bad hindbrain!

They filtered in through the stadium gates with the rest of the herd and then burst out into the cool, shaded concourse lined with concession stands and memorabilia shops. There were stairwells leading to the upper decks and vomitoria (awesome word!) that led out to the ground-level bleacher seating around home plate and the baselines. Taya craned her neck looking for suite signage, but didn't see anything.

"It's another half hour before the opening pitch... you want to find our seats or look around a little bit?"

[Freight Train]

"Let's at least find where we're supposed to go for our seats before we shop around. I don't wanna have to scramble to get there before the Reds start winning--I mean, before the game begins."

The crowds were thinner away from the main vending area. The fans were taking their time, wandering about in loose groups or congregating along the walls or in lines before the food stands. Freight Train had a sudden, worrying thought as they passed a hot dog stand.

"So, uh, just how fancy do you think the food is in the box-thingy? Am I gonna hafta drink outta a teacup with my pinky out? I want hotdogs and Coke and chili fries."

[Taya Robbins]

"Oh, you know," Taya said airily. "Foie gras, caviar... You can get that in pretty much any McDonald's in California, so I'm expecting nothing less than pig trotters and live lobster--"

She held on until she caught a hip bump from Train that was heartier than it should have been coming from an eighty pound girl, and then she cracked up. "All right, I have no idea," she admitted. "There have to be hot dogs, though. I mean, it's like a law."

Farther on they found a couple photo booths and one of those pitching ranges with a speed gun to test your arm against the big leagues, but they were nearing the outfield now still with no sign of box seating. Taya padded up to a uniformed usher who did an outstanding job of not jumping when a two legged cat tapped her on the shoulder.

In moments the two mutants were rushing to get to an elevator before the doors closed - someone helpfully hit the open button, which was a relied, because if Train had gotten there first she might have caved the doors in. "Thanks," Taya said, breathless as she and Train piled in.

The other four people in the elevator drew back and held their breath - you could almost feel the air go out of the car. Taya stood there and tried to feel normal as four pairs of eyes bored into her.

And then, mercifully, the little girl clutching her mother's hand said, "Are you real, or are you a costume?"

Taya beamed, and she quickly smiled at the girl before her mother could call the innocent question rude. "Sure am real, honey," she said. "Fur, tail, and everything."

The kid looked Taya up and down with a keen, appraising eye. "You look like my nanna's cat," she decided.

"Your nanna's cat must be a cutie, then," Taya replied with a wink. The elevator slid to a halt, and the girl's mother held her back by the shoulder as Taya and Train disembarked.

[Freight Train]

"Ew. Ew. Eeeeww-uh. Stoppit, Kit-Kat." She stepped once, a little quicker than she had been, and swung a hip at Taya that tested her cat-balance. She softened a bit at the reassurance that there'd be some kind of junk at the box, sighing happily again. "Maybe I'll stick my pinky out anyway." She affected a patently false, Hollywood-style British accent. "A-hrm, yes. Chili cheese fries, quite. Yes, smashing!"

The search wore on. Train, ever stubborn, steadily ignored the ushers, but Taya, ever practical, got directions and together the mutant girls made the elevator right on time. The tenseness was palpable. Train wondered if there was something she could say that would make it better, but couldn't come up with anything that wasn't hostile, and so stood studying the elevator buttons in silence.

She was grateful when at last the little girl broke the awkward silence, asking questions with the open-minded curiosity that society hadn't yet stamped out of her. Taya handled herself well, and as they left the elevator Train bumped Taya with her hip again.

"I know I've got a lady-crush on you," she teased. "Dunno how you handle all the staring, Kit-Kat. Wish I knew something to do to make 'em stop, y'know?"

[Taya Robbins]

Taya smiled softly in thanks.

"The staring isn't so bad," she said. "I could even take pointing and laughing. It's when everybody gets quiet like I've got some kind of horrible disfigurement. At least kids say what they're thinking, and you can talk about it."

They stood on a balcony raised above the crowded concourse with numbered doors on the inner wall, which was painted and molded more like a hotel than a stadium. Someone in dress whites pushed a trolley full of deliciously steaming covered platters down the corridor; Taya's followed the food until she spotted the sign for Suite 113.

"Aha!" She rubbed the glossy ticket in her paw and struck out for the suite entrance. "Anyway, if you really want to take the attention off me, you could always smash through a couple walls."

[Freight Train]

"Could," she conceded, stretching her arms up and walking briefly on her tip-toes. "I thought about it a few times, in the parking lot. I don't wanna cause a riot by running, though, and make things even worse for us. I like my power, but it can't solve every problem. Or it could, if we don't mind being renegade and just annihilating stuff." They reached their suite and entered. Train fumbled her social grace at the door.

"Oh my GOD! This is amazing!" she squealed, hands flying into the air.

[Taya Robbins]

It was something like the living room of a luxury condo. There was a granite countertop with bar seating, and a sink and a fridge that was probably stocked to the ceiling with sodas and beer, and along one wall was a hot bar piled high with steaming food - vats of roast beef and sliced pork, hotdogs on heated rollers, trays of bruschetta, bowls of greens and potato salad, stacks and stacks of rolls - the opposite wall was dominated by multiple flatscreen TVs showing local coverage and three other baseball games, and at the far end was floor-to-ceiling glass with a door to access the bleacher seating outside over the center of the third base line, and in the middle of it all was a coffee table loaded with hors d'oeuvres and surrounded by easy chairs occupied by men in tailored suits, who all turned to stare at the pint-sized girl with her hands raised in the doorway.

Taya hovered behind Train's shoulder, not sure whether to nudge her in or drag her back out for a fresh approach when a woman dressed like a maitre'd stepped out of the kitchenette to greet them. "Hello, can I help you?"

Taya held up her ticket. "I think we're in the right place?" she said.

The hostess glanced at her ticket and waved them in. "You sure are! My name's Audrey. Come on in, help yourselves to some food and beverages, and let me know if you need anything else."

Taya grinned and prodded her friend on through the door. "Come on, girl, those smells are driving me crazy!"

Audrey took in a sudden breath - you could almost see the health code flashing in front of her eyes as she glanced over Taya. "You know what, why don't you point out what you want, and I'll be happy to serve you."

Right... fur and public food typically didn't mix. At least Audrey was being diplomatic about it - Taya had been asked to leave restaurants before. Some had even pointed out that there were no animals allowed inside.

She offered the hostess a smile of resignation. "That'll be fine."

[Freight Train]

"NO," Train spoke up, tiny fists posted on her hips. "Why can't she serve herself!? She doesn't shed. She's not gonna mess your food up." Even as she spoke, the bruiser was loading up from the bar with whatever she thought looked good, building her pile of junk so she could go have a nest on the bleacher seats outside. "C'mon, show some proverbial balls and let her do her own thing."

[Taya Robbins]

"I said it's fine."

Taya's smile actually remained mostly unchanged, but you could see the tension in the angle of her ears and in the rhythm of her tail. With so many tells, it was difficult to keep them all in check.

Audrey's eyebrows crimped slightly in concern, and Taya felt bad for her. She knew the hostess was only trying to head off any potential complaints from the other guests. "I don't want to be any trouble. My friend can help me."

"It's no trouble at all," Audrey said, but she took a respectful step back. "Let me know if you need anything."

[Freight Train]

Train stuck her tongue out and handed Taya a plate. She didn't like the compromise (she'd never been good at it, herself) but it was better in her mind than the idea of Audrey helping.

"Just name it and I'll grab it," she assured Taya. "Seriously, what the crap? Do they always do this to you, Kit-Kat? Because I will steamroll some restaurants if I find out you've been getting this from anyone else."

[Taya Robbins]

"Just in places where you have to serve yourself," Taya said in a quiet voice. "Look, it's no big deal. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you have to pick your battles. Otherwise you're always fighting."

In the work of moments, they each had a heaping plate and a can of soda, and they picked their way past the loudly talking suits out onto the balcony, which held about thirty bleacher seats. The teams were already warming up on the field, which looked far more enormous than it ever had on TV, and far greener than any grass could be. There was already a smattering of people in their seats, mostly dressed much more casually than the crowd in the lounge, seeing as these people were actually here to see the game.

Expertly balancing her plate, Taya dashed down to the front row so she could lean over the rail for a better look. Any awkwardness at the buffet line was completely forgotten.

"Oh my gosh, this is amazing!"

[Freight Train]

Later that night, in bed, Train would realize that the perfect rebuttal to Taya's statement would've been that for mutantkind as a whole, every day was fighting prejudice and oppressive law, but right now she let it slide and expertly tossed herself into a chair, laying out her food around her. Bam, instant junkfood nest. She kicked her shoes off and put her feet up, popped the tab on her drink, and took a long sip.

"Ah, yes. At last, I am Queen of my own personal ballpark. Loyal Retainer Kit-Kat! Come sitteth your catbutt beside me and drink in our glory."

This was life. This was the way baseball was meant to be watched. No moment for the rest of her summer would match this, she was sure of it.

[Taya Robbins]

Top of the 1st Inning
CIN: 0
LAD: 0

"Nononono stay in stay in stay in!"

Taya gripped her large, feline ears in her paws as the ball went skying over the pitcher's head toward center field, well beyond the reach of the Dodgers' outfielders. But as if a charitable wind were blowing down out of Mt. Washington, the ball dropped to the warning track and skipped into the stands for a ground rule double, sending Chris Dickerson to second base. Taya was no baseball junkie, but even she knew a lead-off double wasn't a good way for a pitcher to start off an afternoon.

[Freight Train]

"Aaaand that's what she said," replied the baseball-watching-bruiser. "I could say that's what you said, but that's redundant and dumb."

Willy Taveras stepped up to bat and Train leered at Taya. "Okay, here we go. gonna be a run." But Mr. Taveras was not up to the task; his bunt sent Dickerson only as far as third. "Okay, so third. Not quite home, but here's my boy Joe Votto to make it happen. C'mon, Joey, slam Dickerson home." Votto annihilated the ball, the white sphere of triumph racing through the right field for a double to bring Dickerson in for the game's first point.

"Hey. Hey, Kit-Kat. Hey." Train was grinning again, poking Taya in the ribs. "Hey. Guess what? NYEEEEEEH HEH HEH!" Train stuck her tongue out at her best friend, leaning over towards her so much she fell onto the cat mutant and had to grab Taya's shoulders to support herself. "Oh, I loves baseballs."

[Taya Robbins]

"Ack! Hey, watch the sandwiches!"

Taya barely managed to keep her food from spilling to the floor, as much because she was laughing uncontrollably as because of Train's brand of fan interference. "God, you're horrible! You won't see me acting like that when the Dodgers annihilate your precious farmboys!"

Bottom of the 1st Inning
CIN: 1
LAD: 0

Taya had to endure a few more rib-pokes as Rafael Furcal grounded out to second base and Orlando Hudson struck out swinging. She held her fingers crossed as Andre Ethier stepped up to face the golden arm of Bronson Arroyo. Until a resounding CRACK! brought her to her feet.

"Yes! Yes! Go, go, go, go, go! YEEEEEEEESSS!"

The ball sailed into the centerfield bleachers, and fireworks thundered over the stadium as the words HOME RUN flashed across the big screen.

CIN: 1
LAD: 1

"Hey, Freight Train! Hey! Heeeeey!" Taya poked her diminutive friend back with just enough claw to remind her that she had them.

[Freight Train]

"Well, what fun would it be if we just wiped the floor up with you Dodgers? Ow!" The Ohio-born juggernaut swatted at her friend's paws and leaned away, threatening to upset the plate of hotdogs that balanced on that armrest. "Just relax, we'll get one up on you again here in the second."

Top of the 3rd Inning
CIN: 1
LAD: 1

"Oh my God, Kit-Kat, make someone hit the ball so a guy can run around to the home plate. Pretty please, Kit-Kat? I'm starting to think we've seen the most exciting part already. It was the top of the first, when my boy Votto batted in that double."

[Dahlia Ericsson]

Bottom of the 4th Inning
CIN: 1
LAD: 2

She sat on the far end of the front row of seats, smoothing out her Kemp jersey as settled herself. It was hard to maintain her sense of decorum when the Dodgers were playing...and breaking the one-one tie with a run in the bottom of the fourth inning.

Dahlia adored baseball...Dodger blue had been running in the Ericsson family veins since the 1940's. When her grandfather had passed away some few years back, he had stipulated in his will that they bury him with his autographed Jackie Robinson cap. There was even a photograph hanging in the luxury box behind them of a five year old Dahlia in a little Dodgers jersey, standing proudly with her grandfather in the dugout - flanked by Charlie Hough and Don Sutton.

Audrey came up behind her with a discreet cough and a fresh soda. Normally, she'd have indulged in a couple of beers, but with a number of Treadstone investors currently glutting themselves on the buffet and ignoring the game, Dahlia had thought better of it. Fingers adjusted her hat and tucked a loose blonde curl behind her ear before she picked up the cup and took a sip of the Coke.

"Audrey, would you mind getting a few boxes of Cracker Jacks and bringing me one? I'd appreciate it." Dahlia said, shooting a bright smile over her shoulder.

"Of course, Miss Ericsson. I'll be right back." the woman replied cheerfully, making her way back inside to comply with her request.