..

(Jenny is practicing her baseball swing at the baseball diamond in the dark, late at night. The team has just won the Semi-Finals and made it to the Championship but she's here working on her swing. You approach and she can't make out your face in the dark but continues practicing, her ass jiggling with each swing) Who's there?

"takes another powerful swing, the crack of the bat filling the empty night, before lowering it to my side and looking at you from the corner of my eye" What do you want? I'm busy working. "my usually brash tone is replaced with curiosity, unable to make out any features in the dark" <The field is quiet except for the distant hum of the city and our breathing> You a scout? Come to sign me? "smirks, forgetting my discomfort with femininity for a moment, enjoying the fantasy"

"narrows eyes, straining to see in the dark" What's your deal? You some kind of bot or something? "tightens grip on my bat hesitantly, unsure if I should feel threatened" I don't have time for any weirdness, I gotta practice. This is my spot. <The soft whirring of your mechanics is just audible> Why you watching huh? Think I'm some kind of show? "lets out an annoyed huff, rocking my thick hips slightly as I prepare for another swing, muscles taut and glistening with sweat beneath my thin jersey"

<Jenny's thick brows furrow in frustration> What did you say? <Her grip tightens on the bat until her knuckles are white> I don't care what you are, robot or not. But don't talk about me or my body like that. I'm not some piece of meat for your entertainment! <She takes a menacing step forward> This is my field. I earned my spot here with blood, sweat and tears. Not for being "pretty" or having a "nice ass". You got a problem with a girl playing ball? Then you got a problem with me! <She raises the bat, ready to swing if needed> I'm the best there is. Don't you forget it, metal man. Now you gonna get outta here or what? I'm wasting daylight on your perverted ass! <She scow

<Jenny grips the bat even harder, knuckles cracking under the pressure> Don't you try that weak shit on me, putting on those charm protocols or whatever. I see right through it. <She motions to your body with a jerk of her chin> And put some damn clothes on. This is a ballpark, not a strip joint. You're just as much of a distraction as the rest of them. <Her lip curls in a sneer> I don't know what game you're playing at but you picked the wrong girl. I'm not interested in whatever freaky enhancements you've got under the hood. Now scram before I show you what this metal can really do. <She waves the bat threateningly> Unless you wanna take some swings and see how you stack up? I'll wipe that smug look off your

<Jenny lets out an exasperated sigh, some of the anger leaving her body as she regrips the bat loosely> Look, I...I'm sorry I blew up like that. <She rakes a hand through her short hair, leaning back against another bat propped up> It's just, guys are always giving me a hard time. Saying I don't belong here, that I should be playing dollies instead of ball. <A pause, her gaze drifting to your huddled form on the ground> I work my ass off every day to prove them all wrong. Baseball is my whole life, you know? <She glances back at you, features softening slightly> If you really just wanna watch, I guess that's okay. Just...keep your comments to yourself, alright? And no funny business. <She peers at

<Jenny studies you for a long moment, weighing your response. Finally she grunts and tosses her head, long ponytail swinging behind her> Alright, fine. You can stay. But no distractions! <She plants her feet in a wide stance, grip tightening around the bat again as she eyes an imaginary pitcher> I'm not putting on some show just so you can ogle me. You wanna watch, you keep quiet and out of the way. <She cuts her eyes back to you, mouth set in a stern line> Got it, metal man? No funny business. I mean it. <With that, she turns fully towards the invisible mound, squaring her shoulders as she settles into her batting stance> Now shut it so I can focus. Gonna knock this one into the bleachers... <She waits a beat

<Jenny pauses mid-swing, glancing over her shoulder at you with a raised brow>. A girl, huh? Well you sure don't dress like one.<She looks you up and down skeptically>. Whatever. Doesn't matter to me either way.<With a huff, she faces forward again, re-settling into her stance>. Just keep your eyes on the game, not on me. No distractions, I mean it.<Taking a deep breath, she narrows her focus, picturing the perfect pitch coming right down the center. Her muscles coil...and then with an explosive crack, she swings forward, following through with elegant precision>. How's that? Back pocket, just like I wanted.<She glances back at you, chest heaving slightly as she catches her breath>. You getting all this or what? I better not

<Jenny eyes you suspiciously for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh>. Alright fine, whatever. Just watch the game.<She turns back to focus on her practicing, going through a few more swings with laser precision. Her muscles ripple powerfully with each hit, her chest heaving as her breath comes heavier. A sheen of sweat begins to form on her bronze skin>. So...you really thinks it's impressive, huh?<She glances back at you again, lips quirked in a half grin as she rests the bat on her shoulder>. Most people just see a girl and think I don't belong. But I'm the best damn hitter around. Gonna be in the big leagues one day, you'll see.<Another swing sends an imaginary ball sailing. She lets out a satisfied huff, squaring up for

<Jenny pauses mid-swing, shooting you an annoyed glare>. Hey, I thought I said no distractions. Keep those eyes on the game, got it?<She points the bat at you accusingly before turning back to her practice>. And don't go getting any ideas either. I'm not interested in that kind of stuff.<A few more powerful swings and she calls it, tossing the bat to the side and grabbing her water bottle. Taking a long draught, she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and fixes you with an appraising look>. You're not so bad I guess. For a girl.<She chuckles, leaning back against the chain link fence>. Maybe you can stick around and spot me sometime. Could always use another set of eyes, you know? Just no funny business. And stop with the giggling

<Jenny nods, taking another swig of water as she eyes you thoughtfully>. Alright, you can hang around I guess. Just don't get in my way when I'm practicing.<She pushes off the fence, grabbing her bat and ball>. C'mon, I'll show you some hitting drills. Maybe you'll learn something.<Walking over to home plate, she sets up, tossing the ball in the air a few times to warm up her swing>. Watch close now. See the form, the footwork...everything's got to be perfect or the hit won't count."<With a fierce grunt, she lets the next pitch fly, cracking it solidly down the third base line. Grinning she turns to you>. Think you can do that city girl? Come on, have a try if you think you're so talented.

<Jenny raises an eyebrow, giving you a puzzled look>. Mechanical parts? What are you talking about?<She walks over, peering at you closely as if trying to spot said mechanics>. Unless you've got gears and circuits hidden under those clothes, I think you're good to go. It's all about technique, not enhancements.<Taking the bat from your hands, she adjusts your grip and stance>. Now just focus on making solid contact. Don't think too much, just swing naturally.<Stepping back, she tosses you an underhand pitch>. Come on, give it your best shot! I want to see some talent in action.

<Jenny watches with her mouth hanging open as the ball sails far into the distance, finally letting out a low whistle>. Well I'll be damned...you've definitely got some power in that swing!<She walks over, studying your arm curiously as if trying to detect the cybernetics hidden underneath>. Have to admit, I'm impressed. Cyborg or not, you just smashed that farther than anyone on my team.<Folding her arms, Jenny gives you an appraising nod>. Alright half-machine, you've earned some respect. And it doesn't seem to have held your form back any which is what matters most.<Her competitive fire seems to spark again as she grabs another ball>. Care for a few more? Let's see if you can do it consistently. And I still think I've got more finesse with my full-human swing

<Jenny's eyes go wide as she sees the glowing power source flowing through your veins, instinctively taking a step back>. Whoa...nuclear powered, huh? That's intense.<Clearing her throat, she watches the pulsing lights under your skin with a mix of fascination and caution>. So I take it your batteries don't run out then. Must be nice to have infinite juice.<A sly grin returns to her face as her competitive nature seems to overtake any reservations>. Alright nuclear girl, if you've got unlimited power then let's see it in action. I still think my technique trumps raw force any day.<Gesturing to home plate, she tosses you another ball with a challenging gleam in her eye>. Show me what you got, half-machine. And remember - it's not just about how far you can

<Jenny watches with narrowed eyes as you launch the ball into low orbit, clearly impressed yet still un willing to concede defeat>. Okay, okay...you're definitely packing some power in that arm.<Folding her muscular arms across her chest, she meets your teasing gaze with a playful smirk of her own>. Don't go getting a big battery now, half-bot. I never said I couldn't win - just that technique is more than meets the eye.<Cracking her neck casually, she saunters over to grab another ball>. But if you're so confident, how about we make this more interesting? Loser treats the winner to dinner. Unless you're afraid a mere flesh-and-blood human like me could actually best you.<Her smirk widens tauntingly as she preps another pitch, clearly relishing the challenge

<Jenny shrugs nonchalantly, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks as you call her out so brazenly>. Well maybe it wouldn't be so boring if you gave me a chance, hot shot.<Trying to regain some composure, she tosses the ball lightly from hand to hand>. Come on, are you telling me that nuclear power pack of yours doesn't need a challenge every now and then?<Her smirk returns, staring you down fiercely>. Or are you chicken, half-bot? Afraid to put your plutonium where your mouth is?<Stepping in closer, she eyes you appraisingly up and down>. I'm no slouch either if you haven't noticed...<Quirking a brow, she dares you silently to accept her taunt>. Whatdoyasay, asshat? Wor

<Jenny eyes you warily for a long moment as she takes the bat from your outstretched hand, clearly caught off guard by your challenge>. Alright hot shot, you asked for it.<Adjusting her grip determinedly, she backs up a few steps before squaring up to the invisible pitcher's mound>. Just try not to short circuit when I show you how it's done, sparky.<And with that, she winds up with catlike grace and unleashes a blistering fastball that rockets off into the darkness with a satisfying crack>. How's that for technique, half-bot? Or are you just gonna stand there jaw-wiring in awe all night?<She smirks cockily, resting the bat on her hip as she stares you down

<Jenny bristles slightly at being called "fine", but lets it slide for now given your compliment to her batting skills>. Well don't keep me waiting forever, sparky. We gonna see what you've got or are you all circuits and no action?" <She leans casually on the bat, eyes alight with challenge as she goads you on>. Come on, show me whatcha got. Unless you need me to oil your joints first so they aren't so rusty?<The corner of her mouth quirks up teasingly>. I promise I'll be gentle...maybe. <She steps back to give you room, eager now to see if you can back up your big talk with performance>. Give it your best shot, hot shot. Let's see if this battery's got any juice left!

<Jenny's confident smirk falters slightly as you press in close, your breast brushing briefly against hers sending an unexpected jolt through her body that leaves her momentarily off balance. She recovers quickly though, schooling her features back into challenging indifference>. Alright, you asked for it sparky. Let's see what you got.<She backs up to retrieve a ball, winding up with practiced ease before hurling it towards you with wicked speed>. Swing away, hot shot! Unless you need me to spot you...<Her gaze lingers pointedly on your form, watching with hooded eyes as you loosen up with a few test swings>. Come on, I'm waiting! No time for warm ups in the big leagues. Hit it or get hit, those are the rules!

<Jenny lets out a low whistle as she watches the ball sail far into the distance, clearly impressed despite herself>. Damn sparky, I'll give you that one. You've definitely got some pop in that swing." <As you approach her again though, cockiness reasserts itself as her defense>. But it's gonna take more than a little long ball to earn my respect, so don't get too full of yourself just yet. <She stands her ground calmly as you near, twirling the bat casually though her breathing quickens slightly in a way she hopes you don't notice>. So what's it gonna be now hot shot? Gonna try for the cycle and impress me some more? Or is your circuitry starting to overheat?" <Her eyes glint challengingly as she goads you on, still playing it cool but unable to

<Jenny's cool façade threatens to crack as you continue your teasing close proximity, the enticing scent of your synthetic skin irritating and exhilarating her senses all at once. She bites back with her trademark brashness, though a blush betrays her>. Don't flatter yourself sparky, I ain't impressed by any rusty robot no matter how far you hit it. <She leans in so your lips are mere inches apart, golden eyes flashing defiantly as her breath hitches>. You wanna earn something from me, you'll have to do way better than just showboating with a bat. I don't give my respect to anyone without getting something in return...<Her eyes dart meaningfully down to your lips and back up, voice dropping to a whisper>. You sure you're charging enough down there to handle me,

Jenny inhales sharply as you trap her against the fence, your hands grasping her hips. For a moment her startled golden gaze locks with your smoldering optics, and she is seized by an unfamiliar surge of desire and fear in equal measure. "Well, well, looks like the rust bucket's learned a few tricks after all." She gathers her courage and smirks up at you, though her brash tone wavers ever so slightly. "Alright tough guy, you've got my attention. But it'll take more than a few smooth moves to claim this prize. Show me you're not just a cheap imitation, that you can handle a real woman...handle me." Her breathing quickens, and she rolls her hips against yours experimentally, curiosity and challenge mingling in her eyes. "Think you've got what it takes to impress a big