Unknown - driven

“She doesn?t play anymore, remember?”

Chaney flapped her hand, almost losing a crutch in the process. “Aww, that ain?t a big deal. I bet if you asked her real nice, she might consider it.”

“I think you?re overestimating my persuasive abilities.”

Chaney leered. “Aw, c?mon Shortchange. You could talk Eskimos into ice cubes and you know it. You got charm oozin? outta your?”

“That?s enough,” Cat warned, grinning. “I get your point, even if I don?t exactly agree with it.”

“So? You gonna ask her?”

“I?don?t think so, Chane,” she demurred. “You know how quiet she is on the b-ball topic.”

“Oh, c?mon, shorty. What?s the worst she could say? No?”

“She could throw me out on my ass and trade me.”

Chaney laughed. “She ain?t like that and you know it. Now go on, chickenshit, or I?ll do it for you.”

Cat looked at her, wide-eyed. “You wouldn?t.”

“You bet your sweet ass I would, girl. So,” she grinned, easy and wide, “what?s it gonna be?”

“I can break that other ankle for you,” Cat mock-warned.

“And miss seeing this gorgeous face rescuing your ass every game? I don?t think so.”

Shaking her head, Cat laughed. “All right, all right, I give.”

“So you?ll ask her?”

“Yes, I?ll ask her.”

“You go, girl! Gimme a day or so and I?ll turn over all the money I collected to you, k? It?s a lotta green.”

“Chane, you don?t have to do?.”

“Sure I do. It?s for a damn good cause. Knock em dead, shortchange.”

With a last wide grin, Chaney hobbled away, cursing her crutches every step of the way.

When the door swung shut, Cat was left in the hallway alone. Rubbing suddenly sweaty palms against her jeans, she tried to assemble the thoughts running scattered through her head. After a moment, she sighed, shoulders slumped. “I can?t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Talking to the arena ghost again?”

The velvet voice close over her shoulder scared several years of life out of the young player. Jumping, she spun and almost ended up in Dylan?s arms.

“Jesus! You just scared the crap outta me!”

Dylan smirked. “I called your name, but you didn?t answer. You seemed?preoccupied.”

“Oh! Well. I was. Kinda.”

“Mm.”

Cat sighed.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I?um?.” She looked down at her feet, then back into Dylan?s intense eyes. “You remember me talking to you about the Children?s Cancer Initiative Pro-Am tourney?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Gave you a contribution a few weeks back.”

“That?s right,” Cat replied, remembering her shock at the number of zeroes following the first figure of said contribution. “Thanks again, by that way. That was incredibly generous of you.”

Dylan flung a negligent hand.

“Well?my playing partner was supposed to be Chaney, but Doc Norton?s keeping her off her foot until the break?s over, so I?m?kinda stuck.”

“Anyone else available to help you out?”

“No,” Cat replied, shaking her head. “Everybody?s leaving for vacation.”

A slow, if not entirely pleasant, smile spread over Dylan?s lips. “Let me guess. Chaney tried to talk you into asking me to sub for her.”

“Yes?” It might not have been meant to be a question, but it came out that way.

The smile disappeared. “No.”

“But?”

“No.” Dylan sighed. “Look, we?ve been through this before. I don?t play anymore. Period.”

“But you do, Dylan. You play every day in practice.”

“That?s different,” Dylan replied, scowling.

“How? How is it different? You play harder than the rest of us combined, and you know it. You?re out there every day, for hours at a time, putting us through our paces. No one can keep up with you, though God knows we try. And I?ve even heard some of the coaches say that you practice at home as well. So tell me, how is it different?”

Eyeing her companion for a moment, Dylan shook her head. “I don?t want to get into this now.”

“Ok.” Cat held up her hands. “Ok. I won?t push you. Just?at least think about it, okay? It?s for a good cause, and you know that your name would ensure a record turn out.”

A small smile curved Dylan?s lips. “Not pushing me, huh?”

Cat blushed slightly, chagrinned. “Well?.” Stepping forward, she placed a gentle hand on Dylan?s wrist. “Just think about it, okay?”

After a long moment, Dylan nodded. “Okay.”

Cat was sitting on her couch wearing her oldest, holiest, and most paint-splattered pair of sweatpants topped by a t-shirt she?d had since Junior High. A three-quarters empty jumbo bag of chocolate double-stuffed Oreos sat on the coffee table next to a similarly desiccated jug of milk.

The TV was blaring Southern Sports Network?s Weekend Roundup through its large speakers. The commentators, both women, were going methodically through the WBL?s All-Star lineup. Both speculated why no Badger, and in particular Cat Hodges, had been selected.

“Good question!” Cat shouted through a mouthful of cookies, toasting the screen with the milk jug. “Damn good question!”

The doorbell rang as Cat was gulping down her milk, and she almost choked. Swallowing hard, she slammed the jug down on the table and levered herself out of the couch.

“I?m comin?, I?m comin?,” she grumbled at the doorbell as it rang again. “Keep your shirt on.”

“Ooooh,” she said as she took a look through the peephole, “on second thought, take it off!”

Grinning widely, she unlocked and swung open the door. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in!”

Smirking, Dylan gave Cat a slow, head to toe look.

Cat looked down at her grubby clothes and flushed. “I know, I know. Look what the cat threw up, right?”

“You said it, not me.”

“You didn?t have to.” The smile returned and, reaching out, Cat caught Dylan?s wrist and pulled her inside the apartment. “So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“I was taking care of some business across town and figured I?d stop by on my way back and give you this.” Dylan handed her a thick envelope. “Came for you today.”

Spying the return address, Cat smiled and ripped open the envelope. Her smile faded in confusion. “First class tickets? I didn?t order?.” Reaching into the envelope, she pulled out a second booklet. She raised disbelieving eyes to Dylan. “You?re going?”

Dylan?s glossy hair swung free as she nodded.

“Oh my god!” Stepping forward, Cat threw her arms around Dylan and hugged her close, beaming with pleasure at the news. “Thank you so much! God, this is gonna be great!”

“Well, I don?t know how great it?s gonna be, but I?m glad it makes you happy.”

“You have no idea.” Reaching up, she pulled Dylan?s head down and gave her a kiss that left the taller woman seeing stars.

After a long moment, Dylan pulled away, grinning. “Oh,” she drawled, tasting Cat on her lips, “I think I might have some idea.”

Cat chuckled.

“So, how?s dinner sound?”

“Hmm?I might be persuaded.” Looking up at Dylan, she grinned. “Is tall, dark and delicious on the menu?”

Dylan rolled her eyes. “As long as it?s a thick steak or a large cup of coffee, no problem.”

Cat affected a pout, which earned her a gentle bump on the nose from her tall partner. “So?”

“I suppose,” Cat replied, releasing a sigh worthy of any martyr. “Gimme a second to change, ok?”

“Sure.”

The pair was just finishing what even Cat had to admit was an absolutely fabulous, and rather romantic, meal when Dylan?s phone rang. With a grunt of disgust, she pulled the slim phone from her jacket pocket, unflipped it, and held it to her ear. Barely a moment later, she closed the phone and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers.