(Crossover story My Boys/What I Like About You. PJ wakes up in New York with someone she certainly didn't plan on. Femslash. PJ/Val Tyler. The incident Val refers to in Connecticut takes place in my story "Visitors from New York". Not my property. PJ belongs to TBS and Val to the WB and CW.)
PJ Franklin cracked open one eye and glared at the sun streaming through a gap in the curtains. She definitely wasn't ready to get up yet. The clock on the nightstand read seven and she didn't have to be at the ball park for hours and hours even for a pre-game interview or two. She decided to snuggle back into the covers.
Squirming around as she burrowed under the blanket her bottom touched something. Something that was warm. Something that was another human being. Both of her eyes opened now.
Okay, so she had met someone at the party last night. The Cubs management had been footing the bill for a little get-together in a suite at the same hotel the team was staying at during its road trip here in New York. In fact is was the same hotel where she was staying. Her expense account only covered so much but she had made up the difference.
Recently she and Bobby had been dancing around each other as they always had done. They'd get close and then one or the other would worry about their friendship. So maybe it wasn't such a surprise that being out of town she would end up with someone. After all, she was a woman with normal tastes and desires, not a nun.
She did hope it was someone local. Someone she met last night, someone she could smile with and then not worry about following her back to Chicago. She wasn't a one night stand kind of girl normally. But if it happened it happened. It wasn't like she could go back and UNdo it.
Then a muffled voice came from the other side of the bed and she sat up in astonishment.
"What time is it?"
The question was perfectly reasonable. However the pitch of the voice wasn't. It was high, much higher than any guy should be speaking in.
PJ looked cautiously to the side. Yep, she was right. A blonde with bed tousled hair was blinking sleepily at her from the other side of the bed. A blonde WOMAN with bed tousled hair.
Automatically PJ rolled back onto her side to look at the clock, although it was unlikely that the display changed. "It's ahhhh, about seven. In the morning," she added. That was pretty damn silly but she needed something to cover her while she sought to assemble her scattered thoughts and pull her memories up from last night.
"Oh good," mumbled the blond female. She squirmed across the bed, wrapped one arm around PJ, threw one leg over hers and proceeded to snuggle against her. "We've got hours before we need to be at the park."
"Oh brother," flashed PJ's mind. "Whoever this woman is, apparently we have, what, a date to go to the ball game? Who is she and how did we end up HERE?"
"Okay, think Penelope Jane," she told herself. "Why am I in bed with another woman? And what did we do last night? From the feel of her body against mine I'd say we are both nude so I doubt it was innocent."
There had been people in her life who thought that the sportswriter for the Chicago Sun-Times was a Lesbian. That was pretty shallow of them she had always thought. Yes she liked the company of her guy friends, she loved poker and baseball and drinking beer with her buddies. But the idea that made her gay was ridiculous. She had never even experimented in college with other females. And she hadn't been drunk or anything like that last night she was sure. So once more, why was she snuggled up to another woman, a woman whose hand securely held her breast? And why did that feel so good and why was her nipple hardening?
Oh yes, now she remembered. It wasn't alcohol that had confused her she guessed, it must have just taken this long for her brain to light off. She had been at the party...
(Previous Night)
PJ had sipped her scotch, blinked her eyes and waved her hand in front of her face. She guessed that when you had as much money as did two baseball clubs and their players you could ignore little things like "No Smoking in Hotel Room" ordinances. How they were going to get the smell out of the suite was beyond her; but not really her problem either. Her problem was that her eyes were watering and she wished she had an oxygen mask.
She spotted salvation. A pair of closed French doors peeked from behind a set of floor length curtains. She made for them, hoping that since everyone was smoking inside that the balcony she thought those doors most likely led to would be empty of smokers.
It was and she took a deep breath. Okay, it wasn't pure mountain air, it was New York City and it was laden with contrasting smells. But her lungs rejoiced. She plopped down in one of a set of matching chairs and put her feet up on the low table in front of them, thankful that she had forgone even low heels. Her skirt, blouse and pantyhose were enough of a concession by a woman who was most comfortable in jeans and a baseball jersey.
Of course the very moment she was comfortable the doors behind her creaked open. Without looking PJ snapped. "Get in or get out but close the door."
"Not having a good night tonight?" asked a soft female voice. PJ looked back over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that the slender blonde woman looked amused rather than upset at being snapped at. PJ was also relieved to see the woman had already closed the door behind her.
"Sorry," she apologized. "It's just that that my lungs are full of smoke I didn't plan to inhale and I'm afraid opening that door for more than a few seconds might fill all of New York with it."
The blond dropped into a nearby chair. "Oh God, I know. I thought if I stayed in there one more minute I might as well go check into the cancer ward at the nearest hospital."
PJ chuckled. "I agree."
"I'm Val Tyler by the way," the blond said. "A friend and I run our own little ad agency and I was invited to pitch an idea to the Mets."
"Nice to meet you. I'm PJ Franklin. I'm a sportswriter for the Chicago Sun-Times, here covering the Cubs during their series with the Mets."
"PJ?"
"Penelope Jane, but PLEASE, no 'Penny' and no 'Jane' and for heaven's sake no 'Penelope'."