Unknown - driven

Both women, dripping with sweat, nodded.

“Alright. If you can get a five second violation, we?re good. If not, foul. I don?t care how, just foul. We still have one to give, so make it count.”

“What happens if we can get a five?” Chaney asked, running a hand through her sodden dreds.

“I don?t care who in-bounds,” Dylan replied. “Just get it to Hodge.” She turned to Cat. “If you have an unbelievably free shot, go for it, but if not, hold it as long as you can, alright? We don?t want this backfiring on us.”

“Got it.”

The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the time out.

“Alright, ladies, let?s win this.”

“Goddess!”

Dylan rolled her eyes, as she did every time her team made its rallying cheer. The team grinned back at her before turning and running onto the court, ready for action.

Blowing her whistle, the ref handed the ball to the Legend passer. Immediately, the young, rather short, woman was surrounded on two sides by the Badgers? forwards, doing their best to block every conceivable passing lane the young woman might think up.

Five seconds later, the whistle blew again. The guard slammed the ball down in frustration, and Chaney ran to the sideline to retrieve it, grinning like a madwoman.

Giving the Legend players no time to set up, Chaney passed the ball to King, who in turn hit Cat with a perfect bounce pass. Instead of going in for the shot, which would have meant trying to avoid the Legend center, all six foot seven of her, Cat shot an eye toward the clock, noticed she still had over seven seconds left, and deliberately slowed her dribble, allowing her teammates time to set up.

It was then that she was hit from behind by a runaway train in the form of the same Legend guard who had failed to get her pass in-bounds. Cat flew into Chaney, and both women fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The ball jumped from Cat?s hands and skittered across the endline.

The whistle blew as Dylan jumped to her feet. “Flagrant foul! Two, ref!! Two!!”

As soon as the referee held up two fingers, the Legend coach, a never-was by the name of Ken Handley, rushed out onto the court, narrow chest thrust so far out it looked like he was setting sail. “Bullshit! Bullshit!!”

“Go back to the bench, Coach Handley, or I?ll hit you with a technical.”

“Go ahead! See if I give a flying fuck! You?re killin? us out here, ref! You?re killin us!”

“Back to the bench, Coach. I?m warning you.”

“Warn this you fucking dyke loving piece of shit!” Handley punched the ball from the referee?s hands, narrowly missing Chaney?s head.

Dylan flew onto the court just as the ref was calling a technical and an ejection. Caulley ran after Dylan and grabbed her by the arm. Dylan shook the restraining hand off and continued forward, eyes silver and blazing in the brilliant lighting.

Ignoring the irate coach who steeled himself to go toe to toe with her, as if the event had turned from basketball to WCW wrestling, Dylan strode over to Cat and Chaney, who were on their feet and dusting themselves off.

“You alright?”

“I am,” Cat replied, “but I Chane twisted her ankle pretty bad when I fell on top of her.”

Chaney scowled at Cat. “I?m fine, shortchange.”

“Get Tippens. She?s going in for you.”

“Coach?.”

“Do it.”

Sighing, Chaney stalked back to the bench, trying hard not to limp. She was less than successful.

As Chaney left, Dylan turned back to Cat. “You sure you?re alright?”

“Not so much as a skinned knee,” Cat replied, grinning. “Looks like I finally got a break.”

“Don?t jinx it.”

They both looked over at the opposition?s bench as the ejected Handley kicked a chair in true Bobby Knight fashion.

“Jackass,” Dylan muttered, shaking her head. “He just cost his team the game.”

“Think so, huh?” Turning slightly, Cat gazed at the backboard. “Guess it?s time to see if all those hours of free throws paid off, huh?” Her smile was slightly pained.

“Just do your best,” Dylan replied, putting a hand on Cat?s shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze.

Cat grinned. “You know it.”

With a short nod, Dylan walked off the court as the teams lined up just outside the key. The ubiquitous whistle blew yet again as the referee tossed Cat the ball.

The large crowd went silent. Not that that mattered to Cat. She wouldn?t have heard them if they were buck naked and playing the Star Spangled Banner on kazoos. All she heard was the slow, calm beat of her heart overlaid by the sound of the ball hitting the varnished cart and bouncing back into her hands.

Once. Twice. Three times. Get a quick look to the hoop. Shoot.

The crowd erupted as the ball slipped through the basket, hitting nothing but net.

Smiling at her teammates, she accepted the praise and deft pats on various parts of her anatomy before again receiving the ball and taking her position.

The second shot wasn?t quite so pretty, and Cat?s heart leapt into her throat as the ball came down too quickly and bounced on the front of the rim, shooting straight up and rattling around the rim for a good bit before finally deciding to drop through the net.

The crowd stood and cheered as Cat again received the congratulations of her teammates, this time liberally sprinkled with good-natured teasing.

The third shot was anticlimactic. Cat knew it was a done deal as soon as the ball left her hands. She was already walking toward the sidelines before it even went through the net, only to be swept up by her teammates and paraded across the court like a conquering hero to the excited cheers of more than ten thousand fans.

The whole thing went by in an adrenaline-filled haze, but Cat would always remember the bright blue eyes, filled with pride, meeting and melding into her own.

Cat was waiting for Chaney as the taller woman hobbled out of the trainer?s room on a set of crutches. Her foot and ankle were encased in a bulky splint, and the look on her face was anything but pleasant.

“Damn, Chane! Are you alright? What?s the verdict?”

“Ain?t no big deal, just a strain. I don?t even know why I have to use these damn things.”

“You?ll use ?em because I told you to use ?em.” Norton walked out of the room, straightening the lapels of her lab jacket. “Because if you don?t?.”

“I know, I know,” Chaney replied, hanging her head.

“I know you know. Just know that I have spies everywhere, so don?t let me hear that you wowed the patrons at that pro am next weekend, and you won?t have to hear me tell you you?re benched for the next two months.”

Chaney?s eyes widened. “Shit! The pro-am! I totally forgot about that!” She turned to Cat, a look of misery on her face. “I?m sorry, Shortchange. Damn.”

“It?s okay,” Cat replied. “It?s more important to get than ankle of yours better.”

“Yeah, but?damn.” She brightened a touch. “Hey! Maybe you can get one of those guys to sub for me?”

Cat shook her head. “Can?t. They?re either using the break to see their families or taking a nice stress free vacation.”

“Shit.” Chaney looked around. “What about Caulley?”

Cat?s jaw dropped. “You?re kidding, right? Tell me you?re kidding.”

Chaney laughed. “Alright, so she?s not the best replacement in the world, but at least she has a pulse, right?”

“I think I?d kill myself first.”

Both fell into the silence of their individual thoughts. Suddenly, Chaney?s eyes lit. “Hey! What about—?”

“No.”

“But?”

“No. Don?t even think about it.”

“Why not? She?s perfect! You couldn?t ask for a better draw!”

“Except for one tiny little detail.”

“What?s that?”