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.
Part 4
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.”
Cat steeled herself by taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “If Horace finds out about us, he’ll fire you.”
“He’ll fire you too,” the tall woman offered, logically.
“I don’t care about that. There are other teams that will take me.”