Quinn only gave a shrug of her shoulders at the statement about baseball and social. The only sort of social she could see would be cheering on one's team and dissing the other. That seemed to be all sports fans did other than talk about which players were good and which one sucked, and what plays were of note.

She looked down at the offered hand, though she didn't remove hers from her hips to take it. Still, she offered her name. That was about as good of a greeting as Jeter was going to get. Didn't matter that his name was Sam; she would forget that in about five minutes and so Jeter it was. "I'm Quinn."