Susanne Novan - Driven

"For you, maybe," Cat grumbled.

Dylan’s expression turned serious. "One day, Cat," she intoned softly, "you’ll see in yourself what I see in you. Then, maybe, you’ll believe."

Rising elegantly to her feet, Dylan left a totally stunned Cat behind.

*******

"You and me, white bread! You and me, short shit! Yeah, you and me! I’m gonna fuck you up so high you ain’t never gonna come down!"

Cat’s nemesis, Kiesha Brown, was pulled back by her playing partner, Coral Tippets, and hustled over to the opposite bench.

"Jesus," Cat muttered half under her breath as she tossed her towel on the bench and followed it down. "Who in the hell pissed in her Wheaties this morning?"

Dylan smirked over her water bottle, then guzzled the rest of it down. "You wanted a challenge."

"Challenge? Damn, Dylan, if I’d wanted a prison gang fight, I’d have flashed the crowd and gotten myself arrested first!"

"Now that I would have liked to have seen," Dylan replied, chuckling.

"Get yourself a police uniform, sweetheart, and I’ll give you a show for free."

If she had had any water left in her mouth, Dylan would surely have choked. Crystal eyes went absolutely round, and Cat smirked, pleased to have gotten

one up on her usually imperturbable partner.

"You seriously expect me to play with that image in my head, do you?"

Cat laughed. "Show me a few of your famous on-court moves in this next game, and you won’t need the uniform."

This time, Dylanwas the one left stunned on the bench as Cat sauntered away. After a moment, she broke out into a big grin, and chuckled softly, shaking her head. "One of these days, Lambert," she murmured. "One of these days, you’ll learn that your little kitten has some mean claws."

******

The sound of a whistle cut stridently through the cheering crowd, but didn’t effect in the least the two enraged women grappling over the loose ball. Over

the heads of the two combatants, Dylan and Tippets shared a look and, by mutual consent, moved forward to separate their respective partners from the

melee.

Grabbing Cat easily, if gently, by one arm, Dylan tugged her away from the court, signaling a time-out to the referee with one raised eyebrow and ignoring the constant stream of epithets spewing from Keisha Brown like sludge from a sewer.

Once on the sidelines, Dylan released her hold on Cat and tossed her a towel. Cat plucked it out of mid-air and angrily tossed it aside, glaring at Dylan all the while. Dylan’s eyebrow made its way back up again. "You need to stop letting her get to you," she remarked after a moment filled with heated tension.

"Don’t you think I know that?!?" Cat hissed through clenched teeth. "In case it’s slipped your notice, oh Goddess, we’re down 9-3 here. We’re getting our asseskicked, and it’s like…it’s like…you don’t even care!!"

Dylan’s voice was very quiet. "Should I?"

The shock of her partner’s statement drained every single drop of anger from Cat’s body. She stared at Dylan as if she’d grown an extra head in the last

minute or two. "I…bu…you….what?!?"

"This isn’t for a tournament trophy, Cat. It’s not for bragging rights," Dylan continued. "It’s for them." One long arm swept out, indicating the line of children sitting in the front row of bleachers. "To put some happiness in their lives, if even for a moment." She paused, then looked directly into Cat’s eyes, her own speaking with uncanny eloquence. "Do they look very happy to you?"

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 verymuch."

"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.