Batter Up!
By Brate
ATF Universe
Chris Larabee sat in the hospital waiting room with elbows resting on his knees while he tried to massage his growing headache away. "So tell me what happened."
His best friend, and the sharpshooter from his ATF Team, sat at his side. "I swear Chris, it wasn't m'fault."
"I'm not looking to assign blame," the blond said wearily, "but I'd like to know why my undercover agent is being treated for a concussion."
"Well, Ez and I had this bet, and he lost."
"So, you hit him over the head?"
Vin smirked at this. "Not exactly. See, if I lost, he'd pick our evening's activity. He chose the opera," Vin reported with a shudder. "Luckily, I won, so I picked where we would go."
"Where did you go?" Chris swore getting a story out of his friend was harder than pulling teeth... and a lot more painful.
"Ez said a while back how he never got to play sports in school, so I thought I'd take 'im somewhere fun."
"And somewhere that he could get a concussion," Chris stated.
"Well, he woulda been fine if he'd followed the rules."
"Where did you take him?" the leader demanded to know.
"The batting cage."
"The batting cage?"
"Yep."
"And how did my agent wind up in the hospital? Did you hit him with a bat?"
"Nah, Chris. I'd never do that. I just..." the young man trailed off as he squirmed in his seat.
"What did you 'just' do?"
"I asked him something."
"That gave 'im a concussion?"
"Now yer bein' a smartass, Larabee."
"I'm trying to get a damned straight answer from you!" yelled Chris.
"I asked 'im a question, and when he turned ta answer, he got beaned in the head with a ball!" Vin shouted back.
"You're joking."
"No, I'm serious. I distracted 'im and he got hit."
"So how is this not your fault?"
"Ya said you weren't out fer blame!" accused the sharpshooter.
"I'm just asking a question. You said you weren't to blame for your partner ending up in the hospital with a concussion, after you distracted him, while playing a game, at your request."
"If he'd woulda followed the rules, he wouldn't o' got hurt," reminded Vin.
"And what were the rules? Ignore the talkative ex-bounty hunter?"
"No," said Tanner shooting a glare at his friend. "It's posted that ev'ryone has ta wear a batting helmet while in th' cage."
"Ezra wasn't wearing a protective helmet?" asked Chris, incredulous.
"He refused."
"Why?"
"Said he didn't want to muss 'is hair."
At this information, Larabee paused. He looked over at the dismal expression on his friend's face, and quirked an eyebrow. Chris sat there a moment digesting this information before he started chuckling, and then laughed openly. "You're right. It wasn't your fault."
The two settled back into their chairs to wait for their companion's release.
