Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2012 18:50:39 -0500 (EST)
From: Aragon76@aol.com
Subject: Living On The Edge - Chapter One

If your not 18 you shouldn't be reading this come back when you're old
enough. This story contains sex between two males without the use of
condoms. I strongly urge any male out there having sex with anyone to use
condoms.  Being safe is the only way to play and live a healthy life
without the fear of std's.  Be smart. Be safe. If you enjoy this story let
me know I am enjoying writing this and might continue with some more of
this story and what happens between Trevor and Mark. All rights belong to
the author.  Contact me at Aragon76@aol.com with comments thoughts and
suggestions you might have.  Enjoy if nothing else!  Thanks in advance to
any and all replies they mean a lot to me and my writing ideas.

For those of you who are reading this for the first time you might want to
go back to Adult in the archives and look for a story named Steve and
Mike. I hope I can make you laugh and cry and be outraged and all those
things I made you feel the first time. As always feel free to write and
speak your mind, I respond to anyone that writes to me, both the good and
the bad. And yes I got both the first time but I answered them all. Just be
patient in my response time, sometimes it takes me a few days. And I
promise to try and keep the chapter's coming quickly enough.

Chapter One

I don't know what to say I've never been comfortable talking about myself,
then again I don't think there are to many people who are. Try sitting in
front of a group of people and start talking about yourself, just the good
things, no bad things allowed. How comfortable do you think you would be
and how long do you think you could talk? Five minutes, ten minutes, what
if you had to talk for a half hour, I'll stick to five minutes and bet ten
bucks that you wouldn't last five minutes. I think you see my point.

I'll do the best I can to tell you about myself. My name is Trevor Markham
Stratmore. I don't know where my parents got that name but I was one of
those growing up that liked it, it sounded good to me. I use to think
sometimes that it gave me confidence or maybe that was just an inflated ego
talking to me at times. I'm six foot five inches tall which I got from my
father's side of the family. The rest of my looks came from my mother's
side. I havd dirty blond hair which seemed to be dusted all over my body. I
was prone to having a mustache from the time I could have one, I just
thought it made me look older. I kept it neat at all times. I had to shave
all the way down to where my shirts came up to otherwise I looked like a
walking ape. And from the neck down I had a dusting of hair that covered my
entire body, not a lot, just enough and dark enough to see when I wore a
bathing suit in public, I even had hair on my back that covered every
inch. I wasn't fat I weighed in at two hundred and forty pounds, no fat on
me, but I was built solid. I worked out at the gym three to four times a
week, mostly three times as I hated going, but I tried to keep myself fit
and my heart healthy.

Being a doctor makes you pay attention to your health a little more than
the regular joe, at least that's my belief, but then again I've seen some
doctors that have no thought given to their physical well being. But that's
their decision in life, it just isn't mine. I don't have a six pack and I
don't have arms as big as my thighs. I just stay healthy. That tells you
what I look as for the rest I'll be brief this is the part that's hard to
talk about, how do you tell people about yourself without sounding
conceited?  I wanted to be a doctor since I can remember, I think it
started in the six grade when we started experiments in science. I loved it
from the minute I dissected my first frog, after that I wanted to know what
made a body tick and how it worked inside. I never altered from that
desire, my father tried to talk me into trying other things but I never
faltered from wanting to be a doctor. By the time I was looking at colleges
to go to my father agreed that me being a doctor was going to happen and he
backed me up one hundred percent and did everything he could to help me get
into a school that I would be happy with. I wasn't going to go to Harvard
or Yale or someplace like that, I wasn't interested in those kind of
schools, even though I knew what graduating from one of them meant to a
career. But I'm not a person who's about name dropping and being snobby,
I'm just not like that. I like the simple things in life and when I chose
the school I wanted to get my bachelor's at I knew what I wanted to do.
The school was only a few hours away so coming home from time to time
wouldn't be a big deal. Besides I wanted to keep in touch with my Dad while
I was in school, after all he was my biggest fan and supporter while I
struggled through my years of schooling. Once I had my bachelor's I'd
transfer to another larger school perhaps one with a little prestiage and
reputation. Only to satisfy myself that I could get into a school like that
with a scholarship to go along with it. I was successful on both plato's. I
ended up in Princeton with a full ride academic scholarship. Besides I
couldn't afford it all and I knew my father couldn't either.  Needless to
say he was proud as punch when he schlolarship came through, just as much
as I was I think.

I'm the kind of person that's driven by the need to fix people and make
them well again. I don't like to see people in pain, I don't think it's
necessary anymore with the advances that medicine has made. I work very
hard with those that suffer from lifelong diseases. I know I can't fix them
but I try to help them cope the best I can with their lives and the way
they are forced to live it with whatever illness they suffer from. I like
working with my hands and take pride in being able to make something look
good when it starts out looking like shit, pardon my french. I believe that
everyone should be treated fairly until they prove to me that they don't
deserve it, although I've never met anyone that ever crossed that line of
not being treated unfairly. We are after all human beings, not one of us is
perfect and that my friend is what makes the world an interesting place to
live in. I think being gay is what taught me to have an open mind about
people and how they should be treated. I knew how I had grown up and some
of the ways that I had been treated because I was "different" from what
society perceived as what was acceptable. I thank god it's changing but
it's a long way off from being a "normal" way of life. Anyone who is gay
knows exactly of what I speak. If you haven't felt it in your life then
you've been very lucky and have led a sheltered life. When I told my father
he was surprised but never batted an eye, he put his arms around me and
told he would love me no matter what I was in life, and he made it clear
that he didn't mean it in just a sexual way. He told me he'd be proud of me
if I was a bank robber, as long as I was good at it! I know he didn't mean
it but it made me feel good about myself and being gay. We talked many
times about me being gay because he told me straight out that he didn't
understand it. I was surprised sometimes at the questions he asked but I
never kept quiet and we just kept the lines of communication open between
us. I think it gave us have a stronger bond as I was growing up knowing
that I could talk to him about anything.

I don't know what else to tell you about myself, I'm not a saint and I
don't pretend to be. I have a temper when my patience is pushed, but I'll
admit that it takes a lot for that to happen. I'm honest with people,
sometimes to a fault.  I've opened my mouth on more than one occassion when
I should have probably kept it shut. But I've learned over the years to be
a little better at thinking before inserting foot in mouth.  At least I
hope I have.

I don't clean up after myself often enough, so at times I have to stop
everything else and clean up my mess. I call myself a part time slob. I'm
good for a while with keeping my living space clean, but I get lazy and
before you know it I have a small disaster to pick up, but there are worse
things in life that's for sure. I don't know what else to say about myself,
like I've said I have a hard time talking about me.

Once I had graduated from school and had gotten the job that I have
currently have I decided that it was time to find a bigger place for me to
live in. The two bedroom apartment was just getting to small for me, the
walls seemed to be closing in with the more stuff that I brought into the
place. So after some thought about it and talking it over with my Dad I
began to look for a place that I could buy on my own, a place that I could
call home.

It took me a while to find a place but I finally did. From the outside it
looked weathered and worn but after all it had been built in the early
sixties and it was now almost fifty years old. Even if the last tenants had
kept it up to some degree it wouldn't look as old and beaten down as it
does now. But I bought the house anyway, mostly because the price was right
for someone who was buying a house on their own for the first time. I was
just hoping that I could prove to be the handyman that my father had
been. I was hoping that somehow it was genetic and I'd be able to make it
look as good as he had made the house that I had grown up in, at least that
was my dream.

I hadn't helped my father when he was working on the house I had been too
busy being involved with sports and being a kid that liked being on the run
all the time. He never complained, I had my chores everyday but he never
once complained about me playing sports or working a job.

I found the place after spending six months of searching. I had spent
countless weekends driving through unknown neighborhoods, just looking to
find a place that I thought I might like to buy and work on. I don't know
how many I looked at and I was beginning to think I'd never find anything I
could afford.  It was either too much and I couldn't afford it or it was so
cheap that I questioned whether or not I even wanted to live it while I
worked on fixing it up. I just didn't want to spend years living in drafty
rooms until I could get to the point of fixing it. But I finally found the
place that I liked and could afford and it was liveable while I worked on
fixing it.


157 Chestnut Street. It was on a dead end street in a quiet section of
town. The last owners had just gotten too old to maintain it and keep it up
the last seven or eight years they had lived there, there was nothing they
could do because of their age, they had just gotten to old to own a
property.

But it was their home and they didn't want to leave it and I can't say that
I blame them for that. Once you've lived someplace that long how would you
feel about leaving? Especailly if the only place you were headed was into a
nursing home or an assisted living facility I know I wouldn't want to leave
under those circumstances. So the house had fallen into disrepair. I don't
know if I would say lucky for me or not. But whatever it was, it was mine
now to do with whatever I wanted to and that meant everything to me at the
time. I had some ideas that I couldn't wait to do to the place once I got
moved in.

I turned thirty two a week before I moved in and I felt on top of the
world. My career was moving forward, I was being good and going to the gym
on a regular basis. I was working at the local hospital without being
overworked. I was surprised the town even had a hospital given it's small
population.

But it was located out in the country and served the community well enough,
anything to serious and most folks went into the bigger hospitals in
Boston. I liked being there you got to know the people that you dealt with.

Mostly it was the elderly that we saw on a regular basis and the
occassional accident victim. Other than that not to much exciting happened
at the hospital. I worked the emergency room most of them time and filled
in on the floor when the staff was running tight.

I didn't have much time for anything else once I bought the house. It
seemed that I was either working at the hospital or working on the house,
little by little. Whatever days I had off I spent in the garage measuring,
cutting and painting or staining. What else did I have time for except for
those two things.  My father would come by on the days that we both had off
at the same time, which didn't happen that often. But I was glad for the
days that he came, he was able to point out things that I wasn't sure of,
things that he had already encountered when he was working on the home that
I grew up in. It was a time that I treasured when we were together. I was
close to my father he was the one that had brought me up and taught me all
my values and beliefs. My mother had died when I was four, I don't remember
her much but my father told me so much about her over the years that in
some ways I grew up feeling like I did know her. I was grateful to him for
giving me that in my life. At times it made me feel like I didn't miss out
on something because I didn't have a mother.

We spent a lot of time together while I grew up. He went to all the
sporting events that I got involed with and helped me practice with
anything that I had a problem with, I guess I was lucky that I had a father
that was as naturally gifted at athletics as I was. I'd say that I
inhereted his good genes when it came to sports. It seemed that no matter
what sport I attempted to play I did well in. Some better than others, but
at least I could play any that I tried. I loved baseball the most and from
time to time I would make some time to go to the local batting cages just
to have some fun and to do something different than going to the gym for my
workout. It was at the batting cages that I first laid eyes on Mark Edward
Ambers.

Mark stood about five feet ten inches tall. I wouldn't say tall anyways,
but he was built solid for a guy his size. I'd consider him a little
overweight but not by much, I thought he could stand to lose about ten to
fifteen pounds but who was I to pass judgement? Perhaps he was totally
happy with the way he was and wasn't interested in losing any weight. But
he was handsome, god was he good looking.  With the type of face that you
don't forget.

Without the weight he could have easily been a model on the cover of a
magazine, at least in my humble opinion.  As far as I was concerned my
opinion was the only thing that mattered at that moment. Now came the big
question, was he gay? So of course my next thought was how was I going to
introduce myself to him, or find out who he was and how'd I go about
meeting up with him. I kept hitting away and watching him out of the corner
of my eye. He was getting into the cage that was three down from the one
that I was in. I decided to pretend I was taking a break from hitting and
was just stretching myself out. But I found myself not being able to take
my eyes off of him.

He caught me starring at him the first second and third time he looked my
way. I had to start hitting the ball or there would have been a fourth time
catching me starring. And then I couldn't concentrate on hitting the ball,
I was missing more than I was hitting. I finally gave up trying to pretend
I was into what I was doing and decided to leave. I packed up my stuff and
headed to the office to check out and see if I could find anything out
about the guy in cage number seven. I had to smile and thought to myself
that maybe the number was a sign that it was lucky and that maybe I'd get
lucky to.

I could hope anyway, there was nothing wrong with that.

I didn't know the kid at the desk that well, I didn't come here enough to
be considered a regular. I was thinking on my feet as fast as I could to
come up with something that I could start asking questions without sounding
like I was either desperate, some kind of stalker, or worse yet some kind
of pervert which at the moment that's exactly how I felt about myself. I
wondered around the clubhouse for a few minutes pretending to check out
some of the bats and other equipment that they sold there. After wondering
around for a few minutes I decided that I couldn't think of anything to say
to the kid to get information so I thought maybe honesty was the best
policy. What was the worst that could happen? Okay so I could get beat
within an inch of my life if he thought I was a pervert. But that wasn't
going to happen, I could run faster than him, at least if I only considered
leg lenght, I figured I could outrun him at least if push came to shove. I
took a deep breath, gathered my courage and headed to the desk.  I kept
asking myself, how fast do you think you can really run? Especailly
considering that the kid that worked that was at the most in his early
twenties.

"I know this might sound a little crazy and I assure you I'm not, but do
you know anything about the guy in cage number seven?" There was a moment
of complete silence as he looked at me weighing out the decesion as to
whether he should say anything to me at all. I began to feel like perhaps I
was crazy to have come up with the thought that honesty was the best
policy. What in the hell was I thinking. The time seemed to just drag out
without anything being said.

"Maybe I was wrong to ask anything, I don't want to put you on the spot or
tell me something that you're not supposed to. I guess I'll just leave and
figure out another way to find out about him." The kid sort of smiled at me
and I knew he had figured out what I was up to and what the score was. I'm
not sure how he came to that conclusion because I certainly didn't think he
was gay, not unless my gaydar was completely off base with him.

"I don't know that much about him to be honest with you Doc, he's been
coming in the past couple of weeks on a regular basis. He's here around
this time almost every other day. He makes a reservation when he leaves
here for the next time but just signs in and out as Mark. He's a good
hitter I've watched him a few times when it's slow and I have nothing
better to do." I couldn't help but wonder how he knew how I was a doctor, I
couldn't remember having seen him in the ER but you never know. It might be
a small town hospital but I still saw my share of patients while working
there.

"Mind if I ask how you knew I was a doctor, umh, I'm sorry but what's your
name?"

"The name is Jeff and I'm sure you don't remember me, it's been a few years
since you treated me in the emergency room. I was two years younger and
I've lost a few pounds since then. But at the time I had ridden my bike off
a ramp and ended up breaking my right arm and my left leg." As soon as he
told me about the breaks I remembered him, you don't forget things like two
broken limbs on a kid when you see it.

"I remember now, wow how much weight have you lost, you don't look anything
like the kid that had few broken limbs?"

"I've lost fifty three pounds since that happened, I got tired of being the
butt of jokes at school and I just stopped eating junk food all the time
and started running instead of riding my bike and sitting on the couch all
the time playing video games. I've taken up running on a regular basis and
I don't play as much video as I used to. And I stay away from as much junk
food as possible, I still give into temptation now and then but not nearly
as much as I used to. I feel better about myself now and the kids don't
bust my chops anymore."

"Good for you, I know from being a doctor how hard it is to lose weight,
it's even harder for kids to do it I think. Keep up the running you look
good."  I meant it he did look good. I wish more of my younger patients
would get themselves into shape, but everyone has to figure that out for
themselves.

"Well Jeff if I may be so bold but would you do me a favor and see what you
can find about Mark for me? Just a full name would be great, anything other
than that would be better, say perhaps which team he plays for?" I could
tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly what I meant by the
question I had asked him.

"Will do Doc, come by next week this time and I'll do some digging and see
what I can find out for you."

"Thanks Jeff I appreciate that I really do. I'll see you next week this
time. If I end up working for some reason I'll be in the day after, how
many days do you work?"

"I'm here Tuesday through Saturday this same time, so any one of those days
you'll find me here, doing my time." We both laughed regarding his job
description. But it was a good job for a kid his age. I bid him farewell
and looked forward to coming back to the batting cages next week.

I thought about him off and on all week reminding myself the entire time
that the possibility of him even being gay was remote. I didn't want to
build myself up to find out that he wasn't. Then where would I be? Up the
perverbail creek without a paddle and frustrated that nothing could or
would happen. I bit my tongue and tried to remain hopeful in pursurt of
Mark the mystery man. I imagined all kinds of things, what he was like, how
he might be in bed, what he did for a living. I played out so many thoughts
of what if's that I began to think that if was a bad word. It ended up
taking two weeks before I was able to get back to the batting cages. And of
course the day I go Jeff wasn't standing behind the desk in the
clubhouse. Another kid about the same age as Jeff was standing there taking
my cash. My heart sank because the first thought I had was that Jeff was no
longer working at the batting cages. What was I supposed to do now? I payed
for my basket of balls and hit the cage. I couldn't hit worth shit. Either
I missed completely or I has fouling to the left or right. After twenty
minutes I think I counted two hits that were worth anything. I was
miserable the whole time thinking that I might have to play the game of
coming back for a few days in a row hoping to catch Mark being here at the
same time I was. After a half hour I was worn out and sweating and just
wanted to go home and try not to be depressed about missing Jeff. I
gathered up my gear and headed back to the clubhouse.

"Hey Doc you weren't hitting those balls the way you usually do today,
having a bad day?" I immediately felt better when I heard Jeff's familiar
voice bellowing across the clubhouse walls.

"No I wasn't hitting them like I should today. Let's just say that my heart
wasn't in it." I wasn't lying I had thought that Jeff was gone and my hopes
of finding out anything about Mark had gone along with him. After two weeks
on wondering woulnd't you be disappointed if you thought your chances had
been shattered? I bet you would be, there's no way around it. I wasn't
going to waste anytime waiting for Jeff to spill anything he knew.

"So Jeff, did you find out anything about the mysterious Mr. Mark for me?"

He smiled a little and cocked his head to the side, making me wonder what
exactly he was thinking at the moment. He was savoring the moment of
knowing something that I didn't. Like a detective that had found an
important clue in a murder case that no one else knew at the moment but
him. I guess I couldn't blame him, I'd be doing the same thing if I were in
his shoes. Jeff finally had to let the cat out of the bag.

"His name is Mark Ambers Doc." And with that he fell silent, I was hoping
that he had somehow discovered more but I guess I was lucky that he had
found out his name at least.

"Is that all you found out or are you holding back on me Jeff?" I was still
hanging onto the possibility that he did know more. His smile gave him
away, he did know more than just his name.

"Is it going to cost me money to find out the rest or are you going to help
a guy out and be kind enough to just tell me what you know?" He just kept
up the sly smile for a few seconds.

"Gee I never thought I could profit from the information. How much would it
be worth?" Now he was playing with me and I could tell. At least the kid
had a sense of humor.

"Gee the next time you come into the emergency room and are in pain I'll
have to remember this good deed you're doing for me. Or perhaps I'll forget
what pain medication are at that moment in time." We both laughed knowing
that neither of us intended to carry out our idol threats.

"Well as I said his name is Mark Ambers, he's not married or dating at the
moment. I think he plays for the same team you do, but I'm not one hundred
percent sure of that. It's something you're going to have to find out for
yourself as far as that's concerned. I can also tell you that he works for
himself as some kind of consultant. He had started to tell me but the place
got busy and I wasn't able to find out much more than what I've told you
already.  His next scheduled time is the day after tomorrow and he'll be
here at four thirty on the dot. The one thing I can tell you is that when
he says he'll be here from four thirty until five o'clock, he's not kidding
with you. It will be exactly that when all is said and done." At least I
knew more than I did before about him, I just wanted to find out
more. Guess I was just going to have to gather my courage and put my best
foot forward and see what happens between the two of us. I was hoping that
I could be at the batting cage the next time he was going to be there.

"Jeff, lets say we get a cage reserved for me right next to his the day
after tomorrow?" Jeff was pulling out the log book to make the reservation.

This kid was on his toes I had to hand it to him. I guess I was going to
have to be good and give him a tip for doing me the favor that I had asked
of him, besides a tip might prove to be useful in gathering more
information about Mark. Jeff wasn't slow and was quick to understand the
big picture. I liked Jeff and the more I got to know him the more I began
to realize how much of a people person he was. It would take him places in
life, knowing people and understanding them helped in so many ways in
business. I could see him owning his own business someday.

"You got it Doc, four thirty the day after tomorrow, cage number six.  Mark
always requests number seven. I think it's a superstitious thing with him.

And if you get here a few minutes early you'll see him go through a ritual
that he does everytime he comes to the cage. I promise you won't be
disappointed when you see him get started." I had to wonder what could be
that strange. Lots of guys had little rituals they did before exercising or
working out. I had a habit of sitting in the dressing room and just
relaxing for a few moments, trying to clear my thoughts from my head and
forget the rest of the world. I wanted to enjoy myself when I did my
workout and taking those few moments everytime was just something I had
gotten into the habit of doing. I don't know that I'd call it a ritual but
I took those few moments everytime that I was going to workout at the
gym. I'm not sure but I didn't take the time when I came to hit a few
baseballs, I would just jump into hitting the balls as hard and as far as I
could. I left the clubhouse knowing I'd be back in two days. Now I just had
to think of what I was going to say to Mark when I was standing in the cage
next to his. I had knots in my stomach just thinking about it. I'd think of
something by then, at least that's what I kept telling myself. Maybe I
would talk to my friend Dennis and see what he had for a recommendation. He
had a tendancy to be "out there"

when it came to one liners and getting to know someone for the first time.

It amazed me sometimes when he walked into a place and started talking to
someone he didn't know or had ever laid eyes on. I knew his idea was that
just keep talking to anyone that would give him two minutes. But he had a
track record to show that his method worked.  Perhaps I should just start
talking to Mark and see what happens. With my luck I'd stick my foot in my
mouth within thirty seconds of opening it.

I called Dennis but could only leave a message. He was out of town and
wouldn't be back in time to help me with a suggestion. There went that idea
of help out the window, I was on my own and had to think of something
myself.

I kept telling myself that I was a man I could think on my own two feet,
something would come to mind. Yeah, right all I could see was Mark laughing
in my face as I inserted my foot in my mouth right in front of him. I hated
being so self-conscious sometimes. I just kept thinking that I would think
of something that didn't sound stupid, I just needed a minute or two of his
time and I know I'd be able to tell whether or not he was gay number one
and then I'd just have to go from there. I'm thinking talking baseball
would be a good ice breaker, maybe complimenting him on the way he hits the
ball would be a good way to break the ice. That was my angle, baseball and
the way he hits, I'd just ask for some pointers from someone better than
me, at least I'd tell him that. Oh, to play the non-hitter would be easy
for me.

My date with destiny was at hand and I felt like I wanted to throw up
everything I had eaten yesterday. I took a deep breath and got out of the
car.

Retrieving my gear out of the trunk of the car, I looked around and towards
cage number seven and no sign of Mark. Oh great today for whatever reason
he'll be a no show. I really wanted him here before me, I wanted to watch
him hit the ball and then talk to him about the way I hit if I got the
right signals. I walked towards the clubhouse and Mark walks out towards
his cage. Oh yea, the planets were beginning to align for me. My future was
at hand and all I had to do was not stick my foot in my mouth before I got
anywhere with him. I checked in with Jeff and gave Mark time to start
hitting a few before I went to my reserved cage. He was swinging away by
the time I got there.  Thank God for small miracles.

I stood back a little and started my little scheme of watching him and he
took notice right away.

"Any reason why you're watching me, or is it my ass that your checking
out?" I couldn't think and my tongue felt like the Sahara had just settled
in.

That on top of my brain going into a major cramp of blankness. All I could
do was stand there like an idiot and look at him. My worst fear was coming
to fuition I couldn't speak and my foot was beginning to fit really nicely.

"No really, which one was it? The batting or the ass, it had to be one of
them Dr. Stratmore?" Not only was I completely stupid at that moment but
now he knew my name and that I was a doctor. I know if I had treated him at
the hospital I would have remembered him. He was too good looking to
forget, at least in my eyes. Somehow, from somewhere I finally found my
voice.

"I'm sorry but how do you know my name? I don't remember meeting you or
treating you ever so I'm kind of at a loss at the moment." And I was, I had
no clue how he knew my name.

"Two can play the game Doc." That was all he said and I stood there not
sure what he had meant. It finally dawned on me, he had spoken to Jeff the
same as I had and Jeff played matchmaker, I wonder who tipped the kid more,
it must have been Mark. It was the only thing I could think of.

"You have me at a disadvantage, the only thing I know about you is your
name is Mark, beyond that I don't know anything except you hit a mean ball
out there when you focus on it."

"Thanks, I try to hit more than I miss and some days are better than others
you don't do to bad yourself." So he had watched me at one point. I'm glad
he broke the ice first my line of wanting to hit better would have made me
look like a jerk that's for sure.

"Glad I didn't ask for tips, you probably would have thought I was some
kind of idiot."

"No, not an idiot just I would have had to wonder for a few but since I'm
sure we're both on the same team I would have surmised that I was being hit
on.  That sound about right?"

"I have to say guilty as charged." I could feel my face turning about
twenty shades of red. We both laughed and I felt better that we had at
least broken the ice and I didn't have to be so self-conscious about myself
this time.  I was on ground that made me a little more confident with
things.

"Let's say you get into that cage and hit some out there with me? We can
talk some more while we're hitting a few. You've paid for the time just
like I have let's not waste it. Nothing I hate more than wasting money." I
stepped into my cage and got myself set up and started swinging. Nothing
was said for a few minutes and I was beginning to wonder what I should say
or ask next. He beat me to the punch again.

"So Doc you didn't answer the question yet, which one where you watching?"

He had a smile on his face as I looked over at him, he was making squirm
and he knew it.

"Both." I missed the next ball that came at me. I could feel my face turn
about three hundred shades of red.

"Red becomes you handsome." I didn't just miss the next one, I missed the
next six that came out of the machine. He was enjoying this and I knew he
was. I couldn't think straight. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, I
was the one that was supposed to talk to him. He was beating me hitting and
he was definately keeping me off balance with the conversation that was
going on. I had to stop for a minute and try and catch my breath so that I
could get a handle on things before he had me babbling like a jerk.

"All right so what exactly did Jeff tell you about me since you seem so
sure of yourself?" He laughed.

"I'm not so sure about being so sure of myself and Jeff only told me that
you were a Doctor at the local hospital and that you were having him try to
find out what he could about me. So I asked him what you had tipped you and
I told him I'd give him more for the same information. With that in hand I
knew you were interested in me so that made me interested more in you. I
had seen you here, just like you've seen me and I was trying to think of a
way to meet you.  When I talked to Jeff it just fell into place. He told me
that you reserved the cage next to me for today and so I just waited for
you to show up today. And I think that brings us to where we are the next
question is where do we go from here?" I had to give to him, he was to the
point and didn't beat around the bush.

"How about dinner? We could at least do that."

"You're on, how about the day after tomorrow say six o'clock? And it's up
to you I can either pick you up or you can meet me at oh lets see perhaps
The Gondola if your into Italian?" He didn't waste any time I liked him
already.

"Italian is fine and picking me works for me."

"Let's finish up our time here and we'll discuss the details after that.  I
need to get my workout in or I'll hate myself when I leave here."

"Works for me." We made some small talk during that half hour we were there
hitting. It didn't seem to be that long and the time was up. We both picked
up our bats and made for the clubhouse. I wanted to raze Jeff about playing
both sides and profiting from both of us. Mark had agreed that he played us
both pretty well. Into the clubhouse we went.

"Hey Jeff, how goes the matchmaker these days?" I was delighted to see his
face turn red knowing that he was caught.

"Well it seems to have worked out didn't it?" I had to smile he was right
it had worked out to what I was hoping for.

"And to think when I gave you that tip I was thinking that perhaps you
deserved some more for helping me out and here you were collecting from the
both of us and getting paid." Mark was trying to not laugh as I talked to
Jeff. It was fun to watch Jeff squirm a little. But I gave up finally and
admitted that I would have done the same thing he had done if I had been in
his shoes. Hey, a rolling stone gathers no moss.

Mark and I made our plans outside the clubhouse, he would pick me up for
dinner. I got into my car and took a deep breath and left out a little
chuckle over the whole situation. For everything I had thought would
happen, or could happen when I met him nothing had prepared me for him
talking to me first. Good thing that he had I didn't have to do any fishing
when I got to him. I also realized when I pulled away that I hadn't gotten
to know anything about him really. Dinner would prove to be interesting.