"Now there's a plan I wouldn't mind makin' in advance." He hadn't gotten quite so far as to go ahead and think about trips to other planets. Just one's enough of a stretch for his poor little good-ole-boy imagination, after all, and it's only been three days on Mars so far. They say it's smaller than Earth, and travel's an interesting proposition because of the climate control. If he lived here not only would he (like the ad used to say) be home now, but he'd be gettin' himself a personal spacecraft so he could get from place easy-like.

And then hell yes he'd go to Earth.

"Before we do it, though, I'm gonna buy you one of those special girl mitts. You know, all pink and everything. Special hearts and flowers on it."

He's not so sure they even make 'em, but Freckles is fun to tease. Really, he doubts her little rough-and-tumble tree-climbing self has ever been anything but one of the boys. It's one of the things he likes best about her. She can outclimb a damn monkey if she sets her mind to it.

Settling back in his seat (and these ain't your run-of-the-mill hard plastic affairs either), he finishes that hot dog, groaning with the visiting half of the crowd as the next two batters strike out and the one after pops out to third. It's the way it goes with baseball: it's addition and subtraction, give and take, long division for stats, perfect evidence of geometry. He ain't no math whiz, but he does know how to add up numbers so they work in his favor. Stretching, he settles with his arm behind Freckles so he can rest it on her shoulder lightly.

It's almost innocent, that move, and if he was any better it would be.