Swin stalked onto the floor, still in her street clothes, and threw an empty hanger onto the court with a clatter that echoed all the way to the upper deck. "Someone has been into my locker!" she declared furiously. "My spare top is missing!"

"We don't have time for this, Swin," Coach Laimbeer said. "Take it up after practice."

"I can't, Coach. This kind of thing is going to eat at me until I know who took my top. No one messes with my clothes without regretting it."

"Oh, this is yours? I'm surprised. It looked too stylish for you." Iciss made her entrance from the other side of the court wearing Swin's shirt- it was slightly tight on her, but she didn't look like she objected very much. Swin's eyes narrowed, and her fingers twitched; she looked like she would have gladly scratched Iciss's eyes out if she could be sure she wouldn't break a nail in the process.

"You're not even close to being worthy of my clothes. Take it off!"

Somewhere off to the side, someone hollered, "Woo! Yeah, girl, take it off!" Swin and Iciss both glared at their teammates, though they couldn't tell who had catcalled; too many women were smirking for them to be sure.

"You're just jealous that you can't look this good," Iciss shot back, strutting a couple of steps further towards the court.

"In my worst nightmares I wouldn't want to look like you!" Swin sneered. "You don't have the looks, you don't have the style, you don't have the game, and you sure don't have the rocks." She swayed right up to the logo on the court, one hand on her hip provocatively, and waited for Iciss's response.

Unable to counter on the championship count, Iciss snapped, "I could take you one-on-one any day of the week, twice on game nights, without smearing my make-up. Bring it on."

Swin paused for thought, but not for long. "I'd do it if I didn't think demolishing you for once and for all would leave you useless to the team. Coach sees some reason to keep you around, and he's better at this than either of us."

Iciss tossed her hair with a knowing smile and swaggered closer to Swin at center court. "Oh, I see how it is. You're not woman enough to take me on, so you hide behind Coach. It's what I thought- you're just another wannabe, no guts, no courage, no nothing."

"Not woman enough? I was born an astounding woman, and I've only gotten better since then. And don't you forget it, rookie."

"And by that tortured excuse for logic, I'm a goddess, so, uh, did you have a point?" Iciss planted one foot on the Pistons logo still plastered on the floor of the Palace and raised her head defiantly.

"A goddess? Hah. You can't even spell." They were by now at opposite sides of the midcourt logo, not quite as close as players at opening tip but close to it, and they started circling each other, searching for openings and sizing each other up. The cutting remarks got more pointed and more perosnal. Fathers were dragged into the discussion, and extremely rude and uncouth vocabulary was used.

"Come on, you two, just start fighting already and have done with it!" someone shouted.

"They are fighting," Cheryl pointed out. "You think either of them is going to risk breaking a nail for this? They'll just keep talking."

"Well, at least until one of them decides it's worth it. Then the scratching and the hair-pulling will begin, and once it does Coach wouldn't be able to separate them, and even he wouldn't want to get between them. It'll get ugly once they decide to let it," Deanna said with a disturbingly calm assurance.

"What do you know about it, Tweety?" Cheryl asked.

Deanna cocked her head and looked at Cheryl as if Cheryl didn't have all her marbles. Several responses came to mind. She finally settled on, "More than you want to, trust me."

Cheryl stared for a moment, not sure what to make of that but getting the distinct feeling that even she should be a little nervous. That only lasted until the first high-pitched shriek came from center court. She and the rest of the team turned in time to see Iciss backing away from Swin, holding her cheek.

Deanna nodded. "If I'd been betting, I'd have figured Swin for the first strike, since Iciss got her good and mad first. There's only so much one woman can take before she snaps." Looking towards Swin, who was using her heel to bludgeon the rookie, she added, "I think she's crossed that line."

"Swin! Put that shoe down! Clothes-stealing is not a capital offense, and I will not have you killing a first-round draft pick!" Coach Laimbeer attempted to separate the two combatants, but Swin waved the shoe at him with a wild look in her eyes, and he actually backed away; not even one of the Bad Boys wanted to be on the business end of a stiletto wielded in wrath.

"So I'm going to assume practice is canceled. Anyone need anything while I'm out?" Ruth asked.

"If you're coming back, bring popcorn. This might take a while, but it's sure going to be entertaining." Deanna shifted position so she was lying on the floor on her elbows and watched the rapidly progressing catfight.

"Why isn't anyone doing anything?" one of the rookies asked.

"Battle for dominance. These things have to be taken care of as early in the season as possible," Cheryl explained. "They probably won't kill each other, and they'll probably end up pretty good friends by the end."

"It's the probably that worries me," Coach Laimbeer muttered.