A/N - So, this is different...

If I may, I'd like to explain, since I'm a huge fan of Paige McCullers, and I've never written a fic where she wasn't romantically involved. Until now.

It started with an idea for a Paily one-shot based on the line, "You throw like a girl." I mulled it around in my head for a few days, but nothing seemed to come of it.

Then, the remarkably skilled emma ray (put a period between those two names... the site won't let me...), in response to a review of Fear and Loathing in Rosewood, PA (If you're not reading that fic, do yourself a favor: Stop reading this one and go look it up!) (You'll thank me...) suggested (as a joke?) that I write a Spemily fic. I started re-imagining the one-shot as a Spemily fic, and it just took off.

Anyway, I know that a lot of people who read my fics don't have any interest in Spemily, and I understand that you'll want to skip this one. (Thanks for reading this far!) (assuming that you're still reading...) I am toying with the idea of posting an alternate, Paily version. (It wouldn't be just as simple as swapping Paige's name for Spencer's...) If you would be interested in that, please let me know. I won't promise anything, but I'll consider it.

By the way, I kept typing "Paige" instead of "Spencer" as I worked on this story... Even my subconscious is a Paige stan! :D

Thanks for reading! :)

"Damn it!" Spencer slammed her fist into her mitt, watching from the circle as the throw from second base skidded into the dirt and skipped past the first baseman. "You throw like a girl," she said under her breath, not turning around to face the girl whose throw she was complaining about.

But Emily heard. She patted her chest, acknowledging that the bad throw was her fault. She wore an apologetic smile, but, inside, she, like her pitcher, was fuming. The ball had taken a bad hop off of the bat, forcing her to field it awkwardly. That's why, when she came up throwing, the ball ended up in the dirt. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to throw. And, even though she might have been a bit rusty, since she hadn't played in years and was more accustomed to playing in the outfield, she had been fielding her position ably through the first six innings. Spencer should've known that.

And, she further thought, Spencer should've known to head to first base when the ball went past the pitching circle, to back up the throw. If she had done that, maybe she wouldn't have had a runner in scoring position to deal with.

Whatever, Emily thought. She didn't even want to be there in the first place.

She had only come as a favor to Paige. Apparently, Paige had eyes on some unnamed member of the team, and she begged Emily to go along and be her wingman. Emily knew what it was really about. Paige wanted to get her out there – back in circulation. Like her mom and the rest of her friends, Paige just couldn't accept the fact that she was fine on her own. They were determined for Emily to meet someone. Eventually, Paige's non-stop pleading wore Emily down. At the very least, she told herself, it would be fun to be active again. But after that snide comment from Spencer, Emily was ready for the final three outs.

Spencer must still have been distracted by thoughts about Emily's error when she fired her next pitch over the plate. It didn't drop when it was supposed to; it just hung right up in the battter's wheelhouse. Emily looked up and watched the ball sail over her head. When she saw Paige beeline it toward the fence, she took a couple of quick steps over onto the outfield grass. Paige made a beautiful over-the-shoulder catch and came up throwing, falling as she fired the ball back to the infield. Emily had to bend on one knee to cut off the throw, and, as she stood up, she relayed a perfect strike to third base, to gun down the runner. The third baseman threw the ball back to Emily, and Emily tossed it to the Spencer in the circle. Spencer tucked it into her mitt and gave Emily a fist-pump. Emily rolled her eyes and wheeled around, holding up two fingers to indicate that there were two outs. She pointed a finger to Paige, as if to say, "Nice throw," and Paige pointed back, to say, "Nice cut."

Spencer got behind on the next batter but got her to bite on a drop ball that came back to the circle on two hops. Spencer fielded the ball and raced the batter to first base, beating her to the bag by a step to record the final out. Emily just shook her head. Spencer could've made the easy toss to first base, but she had to take it herself. At least the game was finally over. She hung out on the fringes as the team huddled around Spencer to congratulate her with high-fives. Emily was the first to line up to shake hands with the opposing team. That way, she could get right to the bench, collect her gear, and get out of there. As she loaded up her bag, her thoughts were interrupted by an eager voice.

"Hey - nice cut off! We really needed that double play!"

Emily just glared at her.

Spencer faltered for a second before she found her confidence again. "Oh, sorry about that 'throws like a girl' comment," she said with a demure, apologetic chuckle. "It was just... I just, you know... the heat of the moment. I tend to get a little of competitive," she admitted with a half shrug.

"Yeah?" Emily said flatly. She wasn't concerned about this girl or this conversation. She turned back to her bag, retrieving a brush. When she felt Spencer put her hand on her shoulder to get her attention, she glared at the hand and then at Spencer's face.

"Oh..." Spencer smiled nervously, putting both hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I just... you're a good player. I was wondering whether you were going to come out again next week?"

Emily smiled dismissively and shook her head. "I'm just here with my friend," she said, nodding in the general direction where she had last seen Paige. Paige had managed to disappear, though, only increasing Emily's level of annoyance.

"Oh." Spencer was trying to sound upbeat and nonchalant. "Well, if you ever feel like getting out there again, you should give me a call." Spencer undid the strap around her wrist where she had fastened the card with the signs for the pitches. She pulled the card out of its clear plastic holster, self-consciously wiping it on her pants to get rid of the one or two stray drops of perspiration before she turned it over, pointing out her number on the back. Emily sneered at her. Really? She couldn't believe that this girl went around with pre-printed cards to hand out with her phone number.

"Oh God!" Spencer's voice was high-pitched and nervous. The Hastings confidence had completely abandoned her. She reached her hand to grab Emily's shoulder, but remembered the reaction that she had gotten the last time and retracted her hand, using it to tuck a strand of her hair under her cap instead. "It's not as if I'm in the habit of passing out my number... I just..." Spencer sighed. It wasn't going well at all. "I don't know..." She extended the card to Emily again. "You'd make a great addition to the team. And we had fun today?"

Emily didn't want to be rude. She smiled weakly and took the card; – anything to get out of there. Spencer strolled off towards her car, taking a quick peek back on the off-chance that Emily had somehow decided to follow her with her eyes, for a final wave good-bye. Far from it. Emily was too busy scanning the field for Paige, who had magically reappeared behind Emily as soon as Spencer withdrew, startling Emily when she tapped her on the shoulder. She had an annoyingly smug smile on her face, which Emily chose to ignore. "Are you ready?" she droned, in a voice that communicated just how over she was with softball.

"So. You met the team captain." Paige, undeterred, was upbeat. "And she gave you... her pitching card? as a souvenir?"

Emily turned it over, revealing the actual reason that Spencer had given it to her. Paige's eyes lit up, and Emily gave her a shove. "Let's just get out of here. Please."

Paige glanced over at Emily from the driver's seat. "So. It was fun getting back out on the old diamond today, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Emily answered gamely, her face showing that she had genuinely enjoyed it. Most of it. She rubbed her shoulder, adding, "I'm going to feel it tomorrow, though."

"I know, right?" Paige scrunched her face sympathetically for a second before she got back to her main line of inquiry. "And... a little attention from the team captain doesn't hurt!"

"Okay, God! - You know what, Paige?"

Paige's eyes were back on the road, but she could heard Emily's scowl in her voice.

"Okay, okay!" Paige lifted her hands off the steering wheel for a moment to shake them in front of her face. "I get it!" She deepened her voice as she mocked Emily's line oft-repeated mantra. "You're a rebel... a loner... you don't need anybody." Paige looked at Emily and mirrored her sneer. "Still... a little attention from a hot jock..."

"Yeah – well, if you think she's so hot, maybe you should go for it."

"I told you, Em. I've got my sights on someone else..."

"Of course you do," Emily cooed sarcastically. She let the silence hang for a few seconds before she complained, "She thinks I'm an infielder, for fuck's sake!"

Paige just laughed.

"That's funny?"

"Oh, come on, Em! The only time she's seen you play softball, you played second base! And, let's face it, you rocked it!"

"That's not what she said," Emily muttered bitterly.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear what she told me?" Emily's tone switched from angry to mocking as she repeated Spencer's words. "You throw like a girl!"

"Whoa!" Paige took her hands off the wheel in surrender. She knew that that was the wrong button for Spencer to have pushed. She paused, to let Emily come down a bit before she explained, "She's just focused, you know? She doesn't like to lose."

"Yeah. I know. I heard. And you know how I feel about overly competitive people."

Paige looked over with a smile. "And yet, you manage to put up with me," she pointed out, bumping shoulders with Emily.

"Ugh. You're different." Paige raised a questioning eyebrow. "You're competitive in an irrepressible puppy dog kind of way."

Paige chuckled. "I don't even know what that means." Emily didn't offer an explanation. Paige shot her a sweet smile when she realized that none was coming. Dipping her head, she asked in a sing-songy voice, "So, are you going to come out for next week's game?"

Emily poked her on the shoulder. "That's what I mean. Irrepressible puppy dog."

Emily couldn't wait to get back to her house, get out of her uniform, and get under a long, hot shower. All that she wanted to do was just wash that whole day away. She leaned with her right side under the nozzle and massaged her neck and shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. It had felt good, she was willing to admit to herself, to be active, doing something athletic again, and doing it with a group, not like her solo runs or swims. And winning felt good. Knowing that she played a big part in that winning effort really felt good.

But she still had a sour taste in her mouth because of Spencer Hastings. Emily never liked competing against – or even with – people who took games too seriously. And what kind of captain berates her own team? Emily dunked her head under the shower head, tossing it back and pushing her hair out of the way as the hot water splashed against her face and gushed down her neck and torso before splashing onto the ceramic base of the tub and scurrying down the drain. She wished that she could stay there forever, letting the water carry her away, as it always did, when she was in a bad mood.

Even when, much later, she stepped out of the shower and patted herself dry with a towel, her mind had not moved on. What was the use, she complained to herself, of going out and doing things in a group when everyone assumed that it meant that she on the market? It was bad enough that Paige was trying to spark up a romance for her, but she really didn't need Captain Competitive putting the moves on her.

Emily was happy where she was. There had been a time, not that long ago, when she really wanted to find someone, and she would have welcomed Paige's help. But she'd come through those dark days with a stronger resolve, and a greater appreciation of her self-worth.

She didn't need someone to complete her. Her life was already complete.

And, she really didn't need the kind of person who would throw out an outdated, sexist cliché like "You throw like a girl."

"You know who throws like a girl? Mo'ne Davis. Alex Hugo. Jackie Traina." Emily groaned when she realized that she had said that out loud. She just needed to let it go. She slipped into some comfortable sweats and headed downstairs to whip up something for dinner.

She called her mother as she ate, filling her in on the details of the day. She knew that her mother would get why she was so upset about Spencer's comment. It was Pam, after all, who had taught her how to throw a softball. And, as Emily had predicted, Pam gasped in disbelief when Emily told her what Spencer had said. But after a couple of minutes of commiserating with Emily, Pam couldn't resist asking, "Well, is she cute at least?"

Emily scoffed long and loud into the phone. She would've been happy if she never had to see Spencer Hastings again.