It was quiet in the locker room, almost too quiet after a home win that kept them in the playoff hunt in the sickeningly close East, and even Merlakia’s laughter and dance of triumph didn’t cheer her teammates up. No one lingered, and soon Merlakia and Michelle were ready to go. “It’s almost unfair,” Merlakia mused. “Sacramento’s got nothin’ without Ruthie."

"Yeah, that's why they outrebounded us and outshot us," Suzie called out over her shoulder, studying the stats intently; her brow was furrowed and she was glaring at the sheet as if it would explain to her who had failed defensively.

“You play the hand you’re dealt,” Michelle replied practically. “Penicheiro should be Rookie of the Year, that forward off the bench is tough, and they'll add a very good draft pick to all of that next year. We shouldn't talk like we beat them by all that much.”

“You’re a spoilsport,” Merlakia laughed, and she put her arm over Michelle’s shoulders affectionately. Michelle stiffened for a moment, but just for a moment, before settling into the touch with a quiet laugh of her own. Merlakia did take some getting used to, even after the better part of two seasons as teammates and the last few months as something more. If ever opposites did attract… Merlakia's infectious smile reminded Michelle that in this case, the hoary old cliché had held true. "Better hurry up, slowpoke, or we're gonna have to walk to Charlotte, and I want dinner before we get on that plane."

"I'm not exactly enthusiastic about going to Charlotte, and half of what you have before you board is going to end up on my shirt," Michelle said. But she did lengthen her stride so that Merlakia was soon forced to hurry to keep up with her. "And we won't have most of the usual delay getting out, since it's late enough for most of the kids to be heading home."

Most was the operative word; as always, there were fans gathered around their chosen exit from the Gund. Most of them flocked to Merlakia immediately, a situation Michelle had grown used to very quickly. They were as drawn to Merlakia's open personality and flamboyance as Michelle was. She couldn't begrudge them that. So she stayed off to the side, signing a few autographs and posing for a few pictures while girls and women of all ages chatted with Merlakia and demonstrated their knowledge of the Lake Shake. Merlakia watched them with a smile but never with laughter; she saved that for later, when she and Michelle were alone, and she could describe just how bad their moves were. As it was, Michelle had to bite back her laughter a couple of times, they were so bad.

"Um…" The voice of a teenage girl broke Michelle out of her reverie, if only because it seemed to be coming from way too high up. As a guard, Michelle had grown used to post players talking over her head, but not fans. She looked up at a very dark-skinned girl, broad-shouldered and about six feet tall in her sneakers, who had a Sharpie and that day's roster card in her hands. "Would you mind signing for me?"

"Of course not." Michelle smiled as she signed the girl's roster. "Did you enjoy the game tonight?"

"Oh, yeah! Lake put some move on #21, and the post battle- oh, wow. I can't wait to get home and try out some of those plays. Varsity'll never know what hit 'em." The girl grinned with the kind of anticipation Michelle was more used to seeing on her teammates' faces, the mark of a certain competitive streak and relentless determination that would leave bruises on anyone stupid enough to get in her way.

"Where do you play?"

"East Tech in the fall. AAU, too, duh. Gotta do the rounds. It's the best way out." The kid sounded bitter for her age, too old too fast. Michelle'd heard that tone too many times at Iowa, in the tired voices and harsh words of some of her Chicago-born teammates. She hadn't known what to say then. Even ten years later, she didn't know what to say.

"Hey, Michelle, we're gonna miss our flight, we don't get a move on." Merlakia raised her voice to address the few fans who still remained. "Hey, y'all, we gotta get out of here so we can go down to Charlotte and beat up on the Sting, all right? Y'all take care now, and thanks for comin'!"

"See you in eight years!" the girl who'd been talking to Michelle said, flashing a grin.

"Eight years? Girl, you better be back here on the 8th when we get to beatin' on Charlotte here!" Merlakia called back, laughing as she shoved Michelle in front of her, towards the parking lot. Michelle waited until they were around the corner before shoving back, much more quietly but with a smile on her face, her hands just below Merlakia's shoulder blades, and Merlakia was starting to arch into the touch with that certain sexy mischief that curved the corner of her mouth into a secret smile that no one else ever saw.

"We have a plane to be on," Michelle reminded Merlakia with playful sternness. "Plenty of time for fooling around in hotel rooms."

"Or on the plane," Merlakia suggested. She stopped attempting to tantalize Michelle with her hands and body, though the teasing, seductive tone remained in her voice, sending a shiver down Michelle's spine.

She shook it off. Time to be Ice. "You should know by now that flight's long enough to get you airsick if you don't sleep through it. There's Dramamine in your bag, and you're taking it whether you want to or not."

"You remember to stuff your bra? I need a nice soft pillow," Merlakia replied.

Michelle covered her face with her free hand. "I can't take you anywhere. But I have to try to, don't I? Get in the car."

"Spoilsport." But Merlakia tossed her bag into the trunk, took Michelle's, tossed it in somewhat more gently, and settled into the passenger seat; she was already adjusting the radio by the time Michelle got her seatbelt on. "Gimme a good game tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Hey, this one was pretty good," Michelle pointed out. She smacked Merlakia's hand away from the volume knob to save their ears and headed out on the road. "Are we really going to talk about basketball when we're driving from one game to the airport where we're getting on a plane to another game and then going to play another and another and another?"

"No, we don't have to."

Somehow, though, neither of them could find a topic to drown out the music that poured from the radio until Merlakia made an off-color comment about defending Andrea Stinson and Michelle suggested that such defense would result in an illegal screen from Rhonda Mapp, and then they were off and running on exactly how best to cope with Charlotte's physical defense and versatile offense. The discussion didn't end until they were actually on their flight to North Carolina and Merlakia was yawning through her graphic description of how she was going to torch Tora Suber, her head dipping lower until her curls were crushed against the curve of Michelle's shoulder and she drifted off for a quick and well-deserved nap, looking ridiculously young and disconcertingly comfortable.

Michelle closed her eyes and leaned back against her seat, trying not to think of ridiculously young girls, inherited bitterness, or the things she thought she'd put behind her.