Following the direction of Dylan?s gesture, Cat blanched as she saw the concerned and sad expressions on the children?s faces. Shame washed through her in an incomprehensible wave. “Dear God,” she whispered. “I didn?t?oh damn.”

A warm hand on her shoulder brought her gaze back around, and she found herself bathed in the compassion of Dylan?s gentled eyes. “You?ve done nothing you can?t put right, Cat. Keisha Brown is nothing but a thug dressed up in a fancy uniform. We both know this. Don?t play down to her level. Play up to the person you know you are.”

Cat felt a smile coming up from somewhere deep inside, and she let it out, unable to stop the warm feelings that Dylan?s simple, bedrock confidence engendered in her. Dylan returned the smile and cupped her cheek briefly, before grabbing the discarded towel and swatting her lightly across the butt with it. “Now let?s get em,” she said over her partner?s outraged yelp.

Since the Badgers had received the ball on the last “tie”, Brown?s team brought it in-bounds and headed downcourt in a flurry of quick passes and fancy dribbles. Cat guarded Brown closely, refusing to be drawn into her bristling taunts and cruel teases.

“Watch my ass, dyke meat. It?s all you?re gonna see.”

With a lightning quick first step, Brown drove to the basket, only to be soundly rebuffed by Cat?s terrier-like defense. Frowning just slightly, Brown dribbled back a few steps and casually called out a play to her teammate.

Tossing the ball to Tippets, she used a spin move and got into an open space in the paint. Receiving the pass just over the outstretched fingertips of Cat, she pumped a short jumper that rattled around the rim and bounced out.

Cat jumped for the rebound.

Brown saw her chance and grabbed it. With a bull rush, she cut Cat?s legs out from beneath her, dumping the smaller woman on her knees. Hard.

Dylan arrived a second too late, and gently lifted Cat back to her feet as the whistle blew, signaling a foul. “Are you alright?” she murmured, looking down at her lover?s skinned and bloody knees.

“Yeah,” Cat replied, wincing slightly at the sting. “I?ll be okay.”

The trainer ran onto the court and, receiving a nod form Dylan, led Cat to the sidelines to tend to her scrapes. Kim looked on apprehensively, unsure whether to approach or run away screaming. She decided to stay where she was, watching Cat as she was led from the court.

Only then did Dylan allow her anger to show. She rounded on Brown, pinning the cocky young woman to the court with her glare. “You know,” she began in a soft, conversational tone that the fierceness in her pale, almost silver eyes belied, “I didn?t care when you were just talking trash. That?s all a little nobody punk like you knows. But when you deliberately set out to hurt someone, to take their livelihood away, well?that?s something I mind very much.”

“Oh yeah?” Brown shot back, failing to entirely disguise the slight tremor in her voice. “And what are you gonna do about it, you old bitch?”

“C?mon now, Kiesha,” Tippets said nervously, pulling the younger woman away. “That?s enough.”

“Fuck you, Tippets. Fuck you all.”

As Brown stomped away, Dylan slid her gaze to Tippets. “You keep a leash on that one, Coral.”

The tall woman swallowed hard. “I?ll try, D.”

“Don?t try, Coral. Do.”

Two minutes later, the combatants had taken the court once again. Cat?s knees were cleansed and bandaged, and she was walking without a limp, though the stinging was quite intense.

“You sure you?re alright?” Dylan murmured from behind her.

“Yeah,” Cat said on a released breath. “I?ll be fine. I just want to get this damned farce over with.”

The smile on Dylan?s face was one that made even Cat a bit nervous. “Oh, don?t you worry,” she replied, voice deceptively soft. “We will.”

The whistle blew, and Dylan accepted the ball from the referee, passing it crisply to Cat, who dribbled down the court and set up a play with a quick flick of her fingers. When the offense was set, she shot a quick bounce pass to Kim, which was unfortunately intercepted by Brown, who took it back to the half-court line and started forward again, a smirk writ large on her cocky features.

Cat guarded her like stink on a pig, soundly rebuffing each and every penetration move she attempted.

The smirk was growing smaller.

Just outside the paint, Dylan caught Cat?s eye and Cat nodded almost imperceptibly. This time, when Brown stepped forward, Cat laid off, and Brown, more intent on showboating for the crowd than actually paying attention to her game, took three steps before running blindly into six feet three inches of solid muscle.

She dropped to the ground as if shot. The ball dribbled harmlessly over the endline just as the referee?s whistle blew.

“Charge!”

Brown scrabbled over onto her back, her face a frozen mask of utter rage. “Charge?!? Are you fucking blind, motherfucker?!? You—”

Her words trailed off as a long shadow loomed over her, and she found herself staring far up into cold eyes twinkling with a mad sort of mirth. “You?re playing with the big dogs now.” Dylan?s low, deathly quiet voice washed over her in a paradox of honey and prickleburrs.

Trying her best to ignore the sudden tightening at the nape of her neck, Brown rose to her feet, but the nasty look she shot Dylan?s way was easily seen through.

Dylan walked back to Cat, whose face was stone, though her eyes beamed twin smiles in her partner?s direction. “Liked that, huh?”

“Would you be angry if I said ?hell yeah??”

“Nah. Little whelp deserved it.”

The two shared a quiet chuckle.

“So. We?ve got the ball. Any ideas what to do with it?”

Dylan turned to face the basket, pondering their options. The smile that broke over her face was that of a lioness who?s just spotted a wounded antelope. “I think Black-23A will work nicely.”

Cat looked at her, slightly wide-eyed, for a moment, before a smile of her own curved her lips. “Black-23A, huh? Ok, coach. You got it.”

The whistle blew, signaling return to play. Cat gave the ball a quick dribble before flipping a short pass to Dylan, then held her hands out to receive it back and start down the court. Brown gave her a bump, but she sidestepped easily and blazed straight down the center of the court. Seeing the danger, Tippets broke off her guard of Dylan and slid in to block Cat, while Brown played off of Dylan, eyes darting back and forth between the players and the ball.

At the last possible second, Cat rifled the ball back blindly over her head toward a streaking Dylan, who caught it and jumped from just inside the foul line, vaulting over the covering Brown for a thunderous dunk that drove the crowd to their feet, screaming their praise to the heavens.

Grabbing the ball, she placed it almost gently in Brown?s hands and tipped the woman a lurid wink. “There ya go. Puppy.”

The rest of the game wasn?t even close as Dylan and Cat put on a clinic, freezing their opponents in place with pinpoint passes, masterful ball handling, dunks, fadeaway jumpers and the odd hook-shot Dylan threw in just for chuckles.

Dylan Lambert was back, and it was glorious.

The game ended with an alley-oop from half court that had the delirious crowd near to climaxing from the excitement of it all. Even members of the other teams, who had come to watch the championship game, could do little but shake their heads, jaws dropping in awe. Most of them had never had the chance to see Dylan on anything but television, and the up-close and personal look was more than they ever could have dreamed.

Courteously handing the ball to the referee, Dylan braced herself as a blonde bolt of lightning launched herself into her arms, shouting in triumph. Dylan swung her around several times before carefully setting her back on her feet and draping a casual arm around her shoulders. “Not bad for an old bitch, huh?” Dylan asked, smirking.

Cat?s eyes were shining as she looked up at her partner. “Thank you.” Her tone was solemn and heartfelt.

“Thank you back,” Dylan replied, squeezing Cat close in a seemingly casual one-armed hug. “You made it easy.”

Cat?s smile was as radiant as the sunrise, and it was an image Dylan carried with her as they were suddenly mobbed by teammates, reporters, and fans pouring down out of the stands.

DRIVEN CONCLUSION

Written by: Susanne Beck and TNovan

Dylan watched across the small table, in a secluded corner of her favorite restaurant. Her normally bubbly and talkative companion was unusually quiet, taking more interest in her food than her dining partner.

“Cat, what?s wrong?”

The blonde looked up quickly, it was clear she hadn?t really heard the words. “Huh?”

Smiling, Dylan reached across the table and took the player?s hand. “I asked what was wrong.” She gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze to the fingers she held.

Cat sighed and nodded, she knew it wouldn?t do any good to try and lie her way out of this one. “I?m worried.”

“About?”

“Us.”

This was not the answer Dylan had been expecting and the expression on her face showed it as she sat back and considered her friend. “Why are you worried?”

“You?re not going to believe this.”

“Try me.”

“I?m worried that being with me could hurt you.”

“Catherine?”

Cat shook her head and looked directly into her lover?s eyes. “Hear me out.”

“All right. I?m listening, go ahead.” Dylan hadn?t released the hand she had been holding and began running her thumb over tender skin. “Tell me what?s bothering you.”

“What if we?re found out?”

Dylan considered the question and her next words very carefully before speaking. “We?ll deal with it.”