<font color=forestgreen> Well, noone had ever said she'd had good aim, in fact, it was terrible, but Spike could usually cover it up for her by catching it before it hit anything. She redened a bit and made her way up the beach, where Spike sat eagerly at the man's feet, waiting for him to throw the frisbee again. She'd pulled a pair of cut offs over her boy cut bottoms, and let her dark hair down to dry. "Oh god.. I'm sorry about that.. that's exactly why I don't play any team sports.."</font> -- Realistic Dreams: The Present : The Beach

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