There is something basic and good in the simple act of playing a game of baseball. From the warm sunshine to the smell of the freshly-cut grass, it brings memories of childhood innocence and of pure, clean fun.

Granted, it is a team sport, designed to exhibit the mesh and flow of the players as they blend their individual skills and talents into a cohesive unit, but it's the sheer joy of the sport each single player brings to the game that transforms it from a heated competition into a much-loved and entertaining pastime. From the moment the umpire bellows the familiar "play ball!" at the start of the first inning and all the way through until the very last out is made, the dance around the well-manicured diamond is mesmerizing and exciting. At times, the players move as if a choreographer has designed the patterns and shifts of their bodies, directing the arch of the spines, the bends of the arms, the stretch of the legs.

But there was a different dance, one that begins when all the bodies are at rest. There is an intensity of static motion, a collective holding of breath, as the fielders await the pitch of the ball, eyes focusing only on the white orb of leather as it is released from the hand of the player on the mound, watching it traverse the measured distance to the plate, waiting, waiting, and, then, exploding into a frenzy of motion as the batter swings away and connects with the circling sphere.

Now, the true ballet begins.

Feet shift and turn, arms stretch and reach, bodies ebb and flow. The players leap to their positions with as much speed and care as possible, covering the ground with fluidity and grace. Nothing compares to this unique moment in the game, when the ball is hit just right, when several of the participants move into the correct formation, and when timing and placement is essential. The shortstop quickly fields the line-drive, scooping and twisting to toss the ball to the second baseman who, without needing to look and relying on sheer instinct alone, feels the thick bag underfoot before firing the just-caught orb to it's final destination: into the waiting mitt of the poised first baseman, who stretches and reaches a few extra inches to gain possession before the on-coming runner can pass across the base he protects. A joint collaboration, a combined effort, an achingly elegant accomplishment of the unit's solidarity. When executed properly, a double-play is, quite simply, a thing of beauty.

Unless you are a member of the opposing team and on the receiving end of the final out of the game.

"Well, shit," fifteen-year old Josh Fitchetola spat in frustration, kicking ineffectively at the side of the dugout's wooden bench and reaching to begin collecting his small scattering of gear, "that sucks royally."

His astute observation garnered several assents and agreeable nods from the other players in his proximity and he joined in the group laughter as one of the older boys made a more precise and elaborated remark concerning the shortstop, the shortstop's mother, and a deranged, escaped zoo gorilla. The teenagers chattered with shared amusement, quickly pushing their recent defeat and their shared moment of loss away, the young minds already shifting to the plans for the evening.

"What time you going to Randy's?" Tony DiNozzo asked as he snagged his glove from the alcove above the bench, cleats clicking against the hard concrete flooring, and elbows bumping with his friend as they shifted in the limited space of the dugout.

Josh glanced in Tony's direction as he shoved his gear into a duffle and shrugged. "As soon as I can. Man, I'm so ready to get in that pool I could just jump in right now, uniform and all!"

"Yeah," Tony agreed, wiping his sweaty face on a fairly dirty hand towel before pushing it into his own pack, eyes quickly scanning the area to make sure all his possessions were accounted for. "I've got a couple of chores to do before I can head that way. Candace will be plenty pissed if I don't do them today."

"Shit," Josh repeated as he slung his duffle up on one shoulder, mouth tilting into a lopsided grin, "it sure sucks to be you."

"Kiss my ass," Tony threw back, smiling at the friendly jab, immediately knowing there was no intended hurt by the other's cutting comment.

The two boys had become fast friends during the first weeks of school, even though Tony was a freshman and one year behind Josh. They quickly found a shared interest in sports, with football in the fall and, now, baseball in the spring. They made their high school varsity teams for both sports and found themselves enjoying the time spent together off the field, as well as on. The age difference, though slight, didn't seem to cause them, or any of their other friends, any concern.

Josh had his own circle of friends within his classmates, as did Tony, but both were able to shift comfortably through the usually grade-binding infrastructure of their high school, making and finding friends in all grade levels. Popular within their own social groups, both teenagers were well-liked and respected by peers and faculty and shared an almost uncanny level of charisma. It didn't hurt they were tall and good-looking, using their pleasant personalities and good manners on anyone with a soft heart. They'd quickly become known as the 'charm brothers' to those who knew them best and were able to laugh at themselves for garnering such a stupid misnomer.

But, like all sections of society and all walks of life, enemies can be acquired just as easily in the hallways of an educational institution as anywhere else. A casually-worded phrase, a misdirected look, or an unintentional snub could all lead to anger or jealousy or the misguided need for revenge.

"You know," Tony prodded, throwing Josh a pointed look, "a good friend would volunteer to help."

"Too bad you don't have any good friends," Josh snorted and failed to elude the solid punch that landed high on his arm. He jerked back in feigned surprise and dropped dramatically to his knees, holding the 'injured' arm close to his body and moaning pitifully from the attack.

Tony grinned down at his fallen friend and shook his head at the level of his acting skills, wondering how anyone could not like Josh Fitchetola. He nudged Josh with the toe of one shoe and listened to the groans intensify. When the sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted the little scene in the dugout, both boys turned their eyes to the adult now looming at the open end.

"What are you two knuckleheads doing now?" The large man barked, one beefy hand jerking off his cap and swiping at the sweaty, bald scalp. "It's Friday. Don't you guys have somewhere else to be?"

Tony quickly reached down and hauled his friend to his feet, tugging him into motion. "Yes, sir, Coach Riley. We were just on our way out, weren't we, Josh?"

"That's right, Coach," Josh agreed, smiling widely at the man and shuffling out of the dugout. "You have a great weekend, okay? We'll see you Monday."

"You shitass," Tony hissed under his breath as he continued to pull Josh along, unable to keep a laugh from escaping. When he felt the other boy walking correctly, he released the arm and readjusted the pack across his back. "You are one sorry son-of-a-bitch, you know that?"

"Hey!" Josh said with false indignation. "I'm going to tell my mom what you just said and she'll never invite you over again when she makes her world famous manicotti. Calling my mom a bitch! Some friend you are!"

The boys continued their trek toward the row of waiting vehicles, laughing and conversing amicably, shoulders bumping, and making further plans for the evening. They spoke to others as they walked the short distance, some wanting to congratulate the duo on a well-played game, some to express condolences for the defeat, and some to merely inquire about their plans for the up-coming party. They took the time to talk to everyone who sought them out and answered the questions as swiftly as possible without seeming rude or hurried but, deep down, they both wanted to get home and get ready for the party. As they drew close to the end of the parking lot, Tony raised a hand and smiled at the driver at the wheel of the green Jeep.

"Hey, Candace," he called, seeing the woman return his smile.

"Hi, sweetie. How was the game?"

The boys exchanged knowing glances and grinned at her usual form of endearment before Tony responded. "It was okay. We lost in the last inning but it was a pretty good game overall."

"That's good," she replied as she turned to watch them move to the back of the vehicle. "How are you, Josh? How's your mom?"

The boys smirked again. Tony opened the rear of the Jeep so they could place their equipment bags inside and out of the way for the journey home.

"I'm good, Mrs. D. and, you know what's funny, Tony and I were just talking about my mom and he...ooofff!" Josh caught a sharp jab to the ribs and glanced quickly at his friend, seeing the green eyes widen in warning. He grinned and continued with his thought. "She's doing fine, too."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, turning the key in the ignition. "You guys about ready to go?"

"Yes, ma'am!" They responded as one, bending to remove their cleats before moving to enter the vehicle. Tony sat in the front passenger side but turned enough so he could easily throw looks to his friend in the backseat as they continued to talk.

"Did you speak to Randy today?" Tony asked as he pulled at his shoulder harness, trying to keep it from moving across his neck as he twisted to converse.

"Yeah but just for a few moments. It was between classes and there was a bunch of other kids all around the lockers. I didn't want to say anything that someone who wasn't invited might hear."

"Who *didn't* he invite?" Tony wondered aloud. "Last I heard, it seems like everyone is planning on going."

Josh lauhed and had to agree. "I know."

"Wait a minute," Candace interrupted the conversation while carefully pulling out of the lot and merging into the early-evening traffic. "I thought this pool party was just for members of the baseball team."

"I think it was at first," Tony looked her way, "but Randy just started inviting more people a couple of days ago. He said his folks are okay with it but, I swear, I don't know if they realize how many are really going to show up."

"You got that right!" Josh affirmed. "They've got a real nice house but, with the pool taking up most of the back yard, it's going to be tight."

"Tony," Candace's voice was filling with concern, "when I gave you permission to go, I didn't know there would be other students attending besides those on the team. I'm not sure I want you to go now."

"Why not?" The teenager asked tightly. "You had no problem when I asked a week ago."

"And a week ago I was told it was just for the baseball team. Now, it sounds like most of the school will be there."

"We were just exaggerating, Mrs. D.," Josh piped in from the back, looking at her in the rear-view mirror. "I don't think Randy's parents would allow him to go that far!"

"But there will be girls there," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, yeah."

"And possibly even juniors and seniors," she continued.

"Candace," Tony sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading and not liking it one bit, "there are juniors and seniors on the baseball team and, believe it or not, I actually have *girl* friends I see everyday at school."

"Don't get smart with me, young man," she warned, hands gripping the sterring wheel tighter.

Tony studied her silently for a few moments, eyes taking in the stiff posture and the thin-lipped scowl. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and tight. "You're never going to trust me, are you?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Tony," she cast a quick look his way, "it's just...well..."

"You don't trust me," he finished for her, turning to face squarely front and look out the windshield. It was the same old story all over again.

The trio made the rest of the journey to the Fitchetola home in an uncomfortable silence and, after they came to a stop, Tony got out to open the back of the Jeep for his friend. Josh grabbed his duffle and cast a worried look at his younger pal.

"You think she'll let you go?" He whispered quickly.

Tony frowned and shook his head. "Probably not."

"Well, that sucks," Josh shifted his gear, eyes darting to the driver. He lowered his voice even more. "You going to sneak out?"

Tony closed the back and looked levelly at his friend. "Probably."

"Shit," Josh grinned in open admiration, "you've got bigger balls than me. If I ever got caught doing something like that, my dad would kill me!"

"Well," Tony sighed tiredly, "I don't have a dad and I don't plan on getting caught. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure," he agreed and then raised his voice as he began to walk away. "I'll see you, Mrs. D. and thanks again for the ride."

"Bye, Josh. You're welcome."

Candace waited until Tony was back in the SUV and buckled in before turning the vehicle toward the direction of their own neighborhood. She could see the anger and resentment bubbling under the surface of his calm facade and decided it would be better to wait until they were within the confines of their home before having the confrontation she knew was going to occur. The remainder of the drive was tense and awkward and not at all how she wanted to end the week. Candace knew the boy wanted to go to the party, had just about talked of nothing else for the past seven days, and had been so happy to get her permission to attend. Now, Tony was on the brink of another disappointment.

But Candace felt she really had no other option. After the fiasco at Jethro's two years ago, when Tony was just twelve, she wasn't going to take any chances of him being in a situation where he might be influenced into doing something potentially dangerous, especially with members of the opposite sex involved. She'd gotten the teenager back into counselling, at Jethro's urgent insistence, and seen a slow and steady improvement in the boy's attitude. She wasn't privy to the doctor/patient conversations but was fairly certain they touched on sex and the pressures facing today's teen, especially those entering high school. Sometimes, she actually was glad she didn't know what was being discussed because the thought of him being sexually active was just too frightening.

It was at those times she missed having a strong male role-model for the teenager the most. Although Tony's grandfather was a solid presence, the man was very old and not the easiest person to talk to about teenage problems. He was plenty good at finances and allotting funds to help compensate for the needs and wants of a growing boy and he was certainly an invaluable assest when it came to dealing with finding a suitable doctor for Tony's psychological requirements but Foster Hathaway just didn't have any concept on how to have a simple heart-to-heart conversation about the trials and tribulations of growing up in today's society. Even the acquisition of a young, beautiful trophy wife several years ago did nothing to loosen the man up. He was content with the wealth and the power his position allotted him and had no desire to change his familiar, comfortable lifestyle to allow for the highly-emotional and ever-changing whims of an adolescent boy. He requested and required bi-monthly visits from his grandson and, during those scheduled days, was prone to stuffing the youth with as much art and culture he thought could be consumed, no matter how much the boy wanted some exposure to sports or rock music. The two were related but shared absolutely nothing in common.

"I'll take care of the yard work while there's still light," Tony's clipped voice broke through the woman's musings as they finally pulled up the drive and into the garage, not waiting until the vehicle was fully stopped before he was rolling out. He hurried to the back and retrieved his pack, brushing past Candace as he headed into the house.

"I thought about grilling out some steaks tonight," she called after him. "How does that sound?"

"Whatever."

Candace shook her head at the boy's short, rude response and sighed. This was going to be an extremely long night if she couldn't break through the walls he was erecting.

By the time she'd changed out of her work clothes and into the casual gear she usually wore around the house, Candace could hear the sound of the mower starting up in the front yard. She walked to her window and peered around the large oak tree that towered close to the house, catching sight of the boy already at work. The old property in New York was twice as large as what they had now, so Candace knew Tony could get the whole job completed, including edging and sweeping the walkways, in about an hour. By that time, she would have supper ready and waiting and, hopefully, a legion of words to help make her case. The problem was, she may have the words ready but would he be willing to listen?

Three hours later, and after pretending to listen to Candace chatter endlessly about why it wasn't safe for him to attend the party, Tony walked up the well-lit path to the front door of Randy's home and rang the bell, waiting only moments before it was thrown open and answered by an attractive girl clad only in the smallest pink bikini he'd ever seen. Before he was even aware of doing it, his eyes dropped to the smooth skin swelling behind the tiny top and had to refocus on her cordial greeting.

"Tony D!" She squealed, jumping into his arms, moist mouth pressing to his, and satiny skin sliding against his palms. She pulled back after delivering her personalized welcome and looked into his slightly dazed but smiling eyes. "We didn't think you were going to make it."

"Hey, Ellen," he laughed at her playful pout and let her pull him out of the entryway and into the house, closing the door behind them and enjoying the sway of her hips as they walked toward the kitchen. "I told Josh I was probably going to be late. Is he here?"

"Oh, yeah," she responded somewhat cryptically as they stepped into the well-lit kitchen, reaching across the center island laden with food, and snagging a clear, clean plastic cup. "He's wandering around somewhere out back, I think."

Tony could only gape at the spread layed out before him, astounded at the amount of boxed pizzas, bowls of chips and dips, and platters of burgers and hot dogs placed from one end of the counter to the other. There was enough food here to feed a small army and, if he'd still been hungry, would have easily found something to his liking. He shook his head at the feast and let Ellen pulled him along again.

Just outside the open sliding glass door, Ellen paused on the patio and Tony got his first sight of the pool and the party guests. Here was the small army the food was going to feed. The back yard was alive with teenagers: many splashing and yelling wildly in the water, their bodies visible do to the shimmering lights illuminating from underneath, many were scattered about the pool's concrete decking, moving outrageously to the thumping beat of sounds eminating from speakers places strategically about in bushes and shrubs, and many were sitting or stretched out on blankets and quilts, involved in anything from simple conversation to heavy petting. Quickly scanning the area, Tony honestly didn't know where to look first.

"Here," Ellen was suddenly pushing something into his hand.

Tony looked down at the cup now grasped in his fist and blinked quickly. There was no mistaking the foamy head over the amber-colored liquid or the distinctly earthy, sharp smell. Beer. Oh, shit. His eyes traveled to the keg resting just outside the sliding doors and wondered how he missed seeing it when they came outside.

"Ellen," he almost had to yell over the din of the music, "where's Randy's folks?"

She smiled and leaned close, a wicked arch of one brow making her look sexy as hell. "Gone for the weekend."

"Holy shit," Tony groaned and took a tentative sip of his drink, letting the flavor explode across his tongue and slide down his throat. It was very cold and very good. "What's keeping the neighbor's from calling the cops?"

Ellen laughed and twirled away, arms stretching up and out, pulling the skimpy pink fabric even tighter in all the right places. She was lit, pure and simple. "Who cares?"

Tony shook his head but enjoyed the show, eyes skimmimg up and down the lithe form, appreciating the gentle bumps and grinds as she moved to the music, the images bringing more primal motions to his mind. Ellen sure knew how to work it and, as she spun around and closed the distance between them, she let her hands trail enticingly across his chest and stomach. Tony wiggled away from the jolt of pleasure and caught both her hands in one of his.

"You planning on swimming?" She grinned coyly up at his expression, watching him take another sip from the cup.

"Ah, no," he responded after swallowing. "I'm not even sure I'm going to stay now. This is a disaster just waiting to happen."

"What?" She frowned and wrapped herself around him, pressing her mouth to the soft skin under his chin and nuzzling. "You just got here. You can't go yet!"

Tony could feel her perts breasts pressing firmly against the thin fabric of his t-shirt and had to take a deep breath, trying to keep a handle on all the feelings tingling their way through his extremities. Ellen was a good friend and, although he'd never thought of her in sexual terms, that all was rapidly beginning to change. He took a bigger gulp of his beer and let his free hand rest on her hip. Oh, boy...

"Tony!" A familiar voice called from one side, drawing his attention momentarily away from the soft body in his arms.

"Josh," Tony was glad to see his friend but was surprised by the way he was stumbling forward, one arm slung awkwardly across the shoulders of someone Tony didn't recognize. He stared at the dark girl, with her smoky-brown eyes and full, wet lips, and felt a sharp shard of interest. He had to all but force his gaze back to his friend. "What's going on, man?"

Josh pulled away from his companion and nearly knocked Ellen to one side, arms reaching to embrace his friend in a tight hug. "Dude, I've been waiting all night for you to get here! I almost thought you weren't going to make it!"

"Almost wasn't," Tony laughed and pushed Josh slightly away, looking closely into his friend's face, seeing the dialated pupils and the heavy-lidded leer. "Josh, are you high?"

"Hell, yes!" The teenager hooted and threw his arms back around Tony's shoulders, tugging him tight again. "Gonna get higher, now that you're here! We've just been waiting for you, haven't we, Lisa?"

"That's right, baby," Lisa agreed, turning her doe-like eyes to Tony and smiling. Her even, white teeth were remarkable against the lushness of her lips and she quickly let him know she was interested in more than getting high. "Looks like we can get this party started now."

Tony covered the sudden flutters in his stomach by taking another sip of his beer and looking away, patting Josh gently on the back. Before he could let them know of his plans to leave, a loud scream ripped through the air and all eyes turned immediately to the pool. Just to one end, two burly boys had managed to capture the captain of the cheerleading squad and now held her firmly by the arms and legs, swinging her precariously back and forth. They were steadily building momentum, the arch of the movement increasing with each sway, counting down to the moment of release. She was going in, no matter how loudly she protested.

All around the patio and pool, everything came to a standstill, eyes focusing on the little bit of drama unfolding by the deep end. The two big boys were laughing uncontrollably and, as they reached the appropriate number, released the flailing girl into the air, watching her arms and legs move spastically in an ineffective attempt to stop the inevitable. When she hit the water, the on-looking crowd broke into a combined cheer of delight. It wasn't everyday Debi Bennett found herself on the receiving end of an embarrassing prank.

As the cheers died and the others went back to their previous entertainments, Tony found himself being pulled toward the grassy area at the back of the fenced-in property, where the lighting was almost non-existent and the couples on the widely-spaced blankets seemed to be doing a lot more than talking and making out. He bit back a curse and stumbled after Josh and Lisa, not knowing how Ellen had been misplaced in the journey but, honestly, not really caring. He recognized the situation for what it was: if the police got called to this party and he was caught out after being told he couldn't attend, he'd be facing a sure-fire one-way ticket to military school, like his grandfather had once suggested. This was not good.

"Josh, look, man, wait a minute," he grabbed his friend's arm and tried to slow their progress. He dug in his heels but Josh was already dropping to a waiting quilt. He saw Lisa sit, fumble for a lighter, and watched as she magically produced a joint from one pocket. Oh, no. "Josh, I'm gonna book. If I get caught..."

"No one's gonna catch you, buddy," Josh grinned from where he lay, stretched out and smiling up at Tony. He started to reach for his friend's legs, intending to topple him and bring him down to the quilt.

"No, Josh," Tony stepped back and shook his head at the sorry condition of his friend and the slight buzz the beer had brought. He squatted and looked squarely at him. "If the cops get called here, you're going to be in deep shit, you know that?"

"My daddy's on the job tonight," the smooth feminine voice purred. "He knows there's a party here and will make sure we won't be disturbed."

Famous last words.

Tony swallowed and looked at Lisa, feeling the pull of attraction again. She was so different from anyone he'd ever met: exotic, striking, beautiful. But there was a hint of wildness that made her both attractive and repulsive and the contridiction set his blood on fire. He raised the almost-empty cup to his lips and drained it quickly.

"He's a cop?" He asked, trying to maintain eye contact, the flutters swarming back to his stomach again and threatening to escape.

"Yes. Does that bother you?"

He shook his head and watched as she passed the freshly-lit joint to Josh. "No, I've got no problem with law enforcement. I just don't want to be caught in the middle of a mess, that's all."

"Tony," Josh sighed and laid back on the blanket, "everything's okay. You need to chill, man. Doesn't he, Lisa?"

"Oh, yeah," she purred and got to her knees, leaning close to Tony and brushing a quick kiss to his warm cheek. She pulled the empty cup from his fingers and rose. "Let me get you a refill."

"No, that's okay. I'm..."

She was gone.

Tony sighed and sat down next to Josh, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. He watched his friend pull deeply on the joint, hold the smoke in his lungs, and slowly release the breath in a strangled cough. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm having a little bit of fun. What are you doing?" Josh laughed up into the sky and awkwardly patted his friend on the back.

"I've never seen you smoke a cigarette, much less a joint," he tried not to laugh at Josh's goofy grin. "What's going on?"

Josh unsteadily sat up and leaned heavily against the warm, solid back, arm looping across one shoulder. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

Tony smiled and patted the hand extending over to his chest. "You're my best friend, too. Answer my question, you asshole."

"Isn't Lisa great? Have you ever seen a face like that?"

"She's beautiful, Josh," he agreed quietly, trying to ignore the boy and girl locked in the tight embrace on the blanket close by. The boy had his hand within the confines of the girl's swimsuit and was hunching against her bare leg. Tony puffed out a rough breath and looked away, focusing back on Josh. "Where'd you meet her?"

Josh flopped back and continued to smoke the rest of his joint, watching the whispy tendrils curl lazily up and away. "Buzzy introduced us last year sometime. Man, I'm hungry! Think there's any chicken inside?"

"I don't know," Tony laughed at the quick change of topics. "Are you getting the munchies, now?"

"Yes!" Josh exclaimed and rolled to one side. "That's what I've got! The munchies!"

Tony shook his head and got to his feet. "Look, you stay here and I'll go get you something to eat. Okay? Josh, are you listening to me? Stay here."

"Okay, Tony. This is me staying right here. See?"

"I see. I'll be right back."

Tony stepped carefully away from the darkened area, glad to have the chance to clear his fuzzy-feeling head. He'd had too much beer too quickly and didn't want to end up making a fool out of himself. He was almost to the patio when he heard his name being called and saw Lisa approaching with a cup in her hand.

"Where you going?" She asked with a coy smile, handing the cup directly to him.

"Thanks," he said as he accepted the beer and, nervously, took a large swallow, frowning at the flavor. "Did this come out of the keg? It tastes different."

"No, I didn't think it mattered," she said quickly and put a warm, soft hand on his chest. "And you didn't answer my question. Where you going?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Josh has the munchies. I'm gonna find him something to eat."

"I can help do that," Lisa offered and slipped her hand into his free one.

Tony looked down at where they were joined and felt her fingers tighten. He took another quick sip, ignored the funny after-taste, and pulled her in the direction of the kitchen.

There were a few others in the well-lit area, filling plates or merely passing through. There was movement on the staircase at the edge of the hall and Tony instantly knew why couples were heading up...the bedrooms would be in that section of the house. Shit. Looking away, he found the stack of heavy paper plates and grabbed one, feeling Lisa move in behind and wrapping her arms loosely around his waist. He swallowed and turned his face to one side, finding her lips close to his. She smiled and, hesitantly, he returned the gesture, breathing in her warm, sweet fragrance. Lisa leaned closer, closing the small distance, and pressed her mouth gently, pleasantly, to the corner of his lips, applying a soft, insistent pressure. She pulled back and smiled again.

As he turned his face back to the counter and started to put items on the plate, her hands were suddenly very near his groin and he froze, feeling a bit light-headed again. He shifted and turned in the embrace, leaving the plate and cup of beer, and facing Lisa completely. Her eyes were wide and alluring and he felt like he could drown in their depths. She eased him back and snugged herself in tight, one hand lifting to rest against his neck and one slipping down to curl inside a back pocket.

"Want to kiss me again?" She asked and felt his pulse jump under the fingers at the side of his throat.

Was that a trick question?

"Oh, yeah," he breathed and felt her hand slowly trail down from his neck to his chest, her pelvis pushing tightly against his again. He sucked in a quick gasp as his dick twitched inside his jeans.

His cup of beer was suddenly in her hands and being offered. "Well, drink up and we'll find someplace a little less crowded."

Even though he wasn't the least bit thirsty, Tony lifted the beverage to his lips and chugged the rest of it down, eyes watching her face carefully. Lisa smiled when he finished and leaned in to kiss him again, with more pressure and for a greater length of time, her clever tongue slipping out to lick a wicked swipe just as she was pulling back. She tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced before and all he could suddenly think about was getting more. Much more.

"Let's go upstairs," she whispered, mouth pressing to one ear, sending a shiver of excitement coursing through his young body.

Tony swallowed but shook his head, feeling a little dizzy at the motion, but remembering his friend waiting outside on the blanket. "Wait, wait...I told Josh I'd get him some food."

"Josh can take care of himself," Lisa persisted and tugged him away from the food bar, walking backward and keeping eye contact, starting the journey toward the staircase.

Tony jerked a quick look in the direction they were heading and stopped, pulling her in close. "I...I don't want to go upstairs. We can sit in the living room or the den."

Lisa frowned at the idea and swooped in again, her wet mouth and hot, demanding tongue sliding and rolling over his, sending those white, burning shards along his skin and straight to his dick. Tony moaned and walked her back against a wall, suddenly not caring about Josh or the plate of food or anything but kissing Lisa. And touching Lisa. Yeah, that was good, too. Touching. And kissing. Touching and kissing.

Lisa was pulling her mouth away and tugging him again. "Come on, baby. Come on."

Tony stumbled after Lisa, legs feeling heavy and strange. He wasn't that buzzed, was he? At the bottom of the steps, he managed to stop their progress, blinking sluggishly and shaking his head in confusion. She was so beautiful and so sexy and he couldn't get enough of her kisses but this was wrong, wasn't it?

Lisa stepped up on the first riser, bringing them closer to the same height, and captured his head between her hands. She forced his face to one side and covered a sensitive ear with her mouth, tongue tracing wetly over and around the delicate shell, painting hot little patterns that quickly had him panting and gripping her hips tightly.

"Shit, shit, stop," he hissed and forced her mouth away before he came in his pants. Whatever she was doing was driving him crazy.

Lias could see the scrap of resistence still in his glazed eyes and played her last card. She pried one of his hands from her hips and eased it down between her legs, letting his fingers curl against the hot fabric nestled there.

"You've made me so wet," she moaned and immediately saw his resistence crumble. She moved his fingers slowly over her core, until he picked up the rhythm himself. "Can you feel how wet I am?"

Tony was lost. He wanted to come right then and there, at the bottom of the steps. There was heat, yes, but not the wetness she spoke of and he wanted, more than anything, to feel that wetness. He brought his fingers up and started to tug at her zipper, needing to get his hand inside, closer to his goal.

"Whoa, whoa," she chided and eluded the questing fingers, grabbing his hand and pulling, mounting the steps as quickly as the stumbling boy could manage. She scanned the hallway, looking for an open door but found every, single one closed...except for the bathroom at the very end. It wasn't what she had planned but it would have to do. Sighing, she pushed him inside the small space, closed the door, and locked it securely.

Turning, she recognized his dazed, hungry expression, saw the erection clearly outlined under the fabric of his jeans, and knew he was ready. Smiling with satisfaction, she unzipped her jeans and slid them over her hips, watching Tony follow them down her legs, his eyes glazed but wide. He parted his lips to breath through his mouth, panting like he'd just finished running a race, and she laughed at how easy this had all been. He was standing and taking it all in, waiting for her to tell him what to do. Good boy.

Shimmying completely out of the jeans and removing the tiny scrap of a thong, Lisa perched up on the edge of the sink and spresad her legs just wide enough to give him a taste. "Come here."

He darted forward and found himself pulled between her legs, his lips covered again and devoured by her mouth, her taste and tongue driving him crazy. He humped against her body, his hands roaming anywhere she would allow: across her back, over her breasts, between her thighs. When his fingers finally slipped across her wet folds, his knees almost buckled from the feeling. As he pushed a digit inside, firmly but gently, he could almost imagine his dick sliding in instead, surrounded by that incredible wetness. Here was his goal. This was what he wanted. Wasn't it?

Something tickled at the back of his mind and he pulled back, trying to breath and think. Lisa was having none of it and reached for his crotch, letting her fingers stroke and rub through the denim, quickly lowering the zipper and reaching to take him in hand. She smiled at what she found.

"Come on, Tony," she whispered and drew him closer, licking and biting at his lips, feeling the wet tip of his cock press against her moist opening.

Tony moaned and shook but, unbelievably, pulled slightly back again. "Condom...I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, baby," she soothed and drew him close again. "I'm on the pill. You can do me like this. Come on, I want you...want to feel you in me."

"But...but we need to..."

"I want you now," she groaned and pulled him in, legs wrapping around his hips and feeling him finally beginning to press forward. She wouldn't be able to move much in this position but knew this wasn't going to take very long anyway. "Come on, Tony...fuck me."

He grunted and sank into her wetness, losing all control. It was too much, too soon, and he just wasn't physically or emotionally prepared for the overwhelming sensations. His movements were erratic and short and, before he could understand the depths of his actions, he was spilling inside Lisa, all the intense feelings he'd experienced during masturbation paling dramatically in comparison. This was sex. This was male and female. This was just too much.

Instantly, Lisa was pushing him away and jumping down from the sink, pulling her undies and jeans up and back into place. Tony staggered to one side and leaned heavily against a wall, legs weak and rubbery. He gaped at the girl, confused by her abrupt actions, and tried to reconnect, tried to understand why he was suddenly feeling so empty.

"Lisa..."

"Shut up, Tony," she frowned and turned toward the mirror, smoothing down any wayward strands of hair and checking her makeup. "We both got what we wanted: you got your first fuck and I got your cherry."

"What?" He breathed, wondering if this was all some sort of weird dream. "What are you talking about?"

Lisa finally turned to face him. "Look, you're a sweet kid but I was just here to do this for Buzzy."

"Why?" He felt used, betrayed, and pretty close to tears. This couldn't be happening. "Why would you do this to me?"

Lisa sighed. "Now, don't get all hinkie on me. Just chill, okay? Some of the seniors on the team asked me to come tonight and break in you and...uh, what's the other freshman's name?"

"Charlie," he whispered.

"Yeah, Charlie," she stepped close, carefully tucked him in, and zipped him back up. Quickly, she patted him on the cheek. "Look, Tony, you've got a nice package. Come see me after you get a little more experience."

And then she was gone.

Tony stood stupidly inside the bathroom with the door wide open and stared after her retreating form, feeling the urge to puke rise in his throat. He'd just had sex with someone who meant absolutely nothing to him and, although it had been pretty incredible, he now felt empty and sick. Shit!

Stepping away from the wall and moving back to the sink, he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over his hot face, letting the coolness ease some of the embarrassment and anger. He wiped his dripping skin on the hand towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror, shaking his head at what he saw.

"You stupid son-of-a-bitch," he scowled. "You got exactly what you deserved."

Turning sharply away from the reflection, he moved across the hallway and quickly down the stairs, passing others as he made his way to the front door. He heard his name but ignored the speaker, closing in on the entryway and finally stepping out into the night. The fresh air cleared some of the residual fuzziness from his head and he glanced down at his watch, swearing softly as he read the time. Eleven-thirty. If he was lucky, he could make it home, climb back up the tree, and get into his room just before midnight. He could do it, had done it a handful of times in the past, but never had a night end like this one.

'Maybe someone is trying to tell you something, you idiot,' he chided silently.

Hitting the sidewalk, he broke into an easy jog, legs eating up the distance and bringing him closer to his destination. There were few cars out at this time, so he ignored any vehicle that passed him on the darkened streets. No one paid much attention to a teenager out at this time on a Friday night anyway.

Just as he was slowing down and turning a corner, a dark car came rolling slowly up to pace his speed. He pointedly ignored the vehicle, after casting one fleeting glance from the corner of his eye, and walked a bit faster. It wasn't a cop car but it certainly was making him nervous. He moved back into an easy jog and, as he got ready to cross over to the other side of the street, the vehicle sped up and blocked his path, the driver jumping out and confronting him.

"Tony!"

Just as he was starting to turn away and reverse directions, the rough, angry voice stopped him cold in his tracks. He found he was frozen, unable to move. Instinct was telling him to turn around, to face the inevitable, to just get it all over with but all he wanted was to disappear into thin air...or for the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole. Would that be too much to ask for? Just one, small miracle? Taking a deep breath and, then, letting it out very slowly, the teenager pivoted and faced the driver, watching the figure approach with hard, angry steps. There wasn't going to be any miracle tonight...not for him.


"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?" The furious voice demanded.

Tony sighed. "Hello, Gunny. What are you doing here?"


TBC