"I know the type," she mutters, and goes back to her game. But he doesn't leave, just keeps taking in the sun and occasionally whistling appreciatively when Sharon knocks one into orbit.
After a few minutes, it's impossible to pretend it's still helping. She pulls off the helmet none too gently and sits against the fence. The bottle comes with, of course.
"Pause pitching machine," she snaps at the computer.
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Date: 2013-04-30 08:41 pm (UTC)After a few minutes, it's impossible to pretend it's still helping. She pulls off the helmet none too gently and sits against the fence. The bottle comes with, of course.
"Pause pitching machine," she snaps at the computer.