We'll meet again - By George deValier

Chapter 3

"Right, so I grasp it here like this..."

"Put your hand here... down more."

"Like that?"

"That's it, now grip it a bit more firmly..."

"This feels incredibly awkward..."

"You have to open your hands up slightly... put your other one up here... thaaat's it. And open your legs a bit more."

"Agh! It's just a bloody bat, it shouldn't be this complicated," grumbled Arthur, trying for what felt like the eightieth time to stand in a batting stance that Alfred found acceptable. He felt like he was going to fall over. And it really did not help when Alfred stood behind him and placed his hands over Arthur's own, trying to correct his technique. Arthur's back burned where Alfred's chest pressed against it, he almost thought he felt Alfred's breath on his neck, and he hoped fervently that Alfred could not feel him shaking slightly.

When Alfred had walked into the Emerald Lion earlier, brandishing a bat and proclaiming he would explain the 'Great American Sport of Baseball,' Arthur had not imagined that he would be expected to actually play the blasted game. Now here he stood in the middle of the local cricket green, trying to remember the difference between a strike and a slide, and attempting to hit the bloody ball at least once. A pile of clothes sat nearby: Alfred's bomber jacket and cap; Arthur's coat and tie. The sky was just as high and warm as the day before, with no reminder of the earlier weeks of rain. It was like Alfred had brought the sun.

"Now bend your elbows a bit more... loosen your grip a little... there you are, I think you have the hang of it." Alfred stepped back and Arthur suppressed the feeling of disappointment. "Now, eye on the ball, all right?" Alfred picked up the ball, tossing it between his hands as he walked backwards away from Arthur, his handsome face cheerful and his bright hair glinting in the sunlight. "Twelfth time lucky!"

"Oh shut up," grumbled Arthur, taking a few practice swings.

"Here we go!"

Alfred threw the ball. Arthur swung. He missed. "BOLLOCKS!" Arthur threw the bat to the ground. "This game is utterly absurd! And stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry!" Alfred managed to choke out through hysterical laughter. "It's just, honestly, I've never seen anyone miss so many..."

"I am quite done with this baseball nonsense!" interrupted Arthur. He refused to admit to himself he was embarrassed. "Take your bloody bat, I'll show you a real bloody sport..."

After procuring a cricket bat and ball from the nearby club, Arthur sauntered back onto the pitch, eager to knock the cocky grin off Alfred's face. Alfred hadn't seemed to have gotten over his laughing fit, however. He placed his hands on his hips and watched Arthur amusedly. "All right then Arthur, what have you got to show me?"

Arthur scowled, despite his stuttering heart. That blasted arrogance drove him mad. "Let's just see how good you are at a real game, shall we?"

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Alfred to grasp the basics of cricket - apart from a few mistakes in terminology. "Okay, so let me get this straight," he said after Arthur gave him a quick rundown of the game. "The pitcher..."

"Bowler."

"Bowler stands here," said Alfred, jumping around at one end of the pitch next to Arthur. "And then the, uh, guy with the bat..." Alfred took off towards the other end of the pitch.

"Batsman," Arthur yelled after him.

"Batsman stands here..." Alfred called back. "Only there's normally two of 'em, and the other one stands over where you are, with the pitcher - ah, bowler."