Stranger (WNBA RPS)
Title: Stranger
Rating: PG-13, maybe R- I suck at ratings
A/N: Two hours. Second scene a year after the first, third scene a year after the second.
Disclaimer/Legalese: People real. Slash fake. Please don't sue.
Pairing: Becky Hammon/Crystal Robinson, New York Liberty, WNBA
Summary: Decisions, decisions.
Just think what we were so recently
Strangers
Strangers
The world's greatest lovers
Last week we were strangers
Becky had drawn all eyes the moment she came into the gym. Sophia had made a crack about how she didn't know that there were ballgirls in a practice session, and Becky had knocked Sophia on her ass, and Teresa had knocked Becky on her ass, and Becky had gotten up and said something about Teresa's mother, and that settled the whole thing. The driver's license in her bag had established that she was twenty-two years old, much to everyone's surprise. When she got into the groove, though, everyone believed that she had been playing basketball that long. The remarkable became commonplace, and eyes stopped widening whenever Becky made a move that would have had most players flat on their backs and counting the stars flying around their heads.
But one set of eyes had never stopped watching and marveling. Crystal wasn't very good with the right words, so she opted for the coward's way out and never said any words at all. She just watched as Becky fought her way onto the Liberty's roster, despite the coach's reluctance to keep a shooting guard in the body of a point guard; watched through her own success at rearranging the Liberty's starting lineup; watched as Becky made her first major mark on a night full of grief. A year passed, and another, and Becky had officially arrived, a lethal scorer off the bench who some swore had a portrait hidden somewhere back home, a glittering blonde figure with stormcloud eyes and girlish features that had drawn more than just Crystal's gaze.
And still Crystal didn't know what to say, and she felt outclassed, terrified that if she said anything Becky would look up and laugh in her face. She threw her passion and her fear into the game, because there was nothing else she could do. She didn't realize that her increasingly fiery play was also drawing eyes, nor would she have believed it if she saw. But a spark had lit within the quiet Oklahoman, and it shone like a beacon, calling, and Becky was coming to realize that Crystal was worthy of her attention.
They were both oblivious to the fact that most of their teammates had figured this out well before they had; love often works that way. Sue and Teresa, and therefore Vickie, worked on involuted schemes to make Becky and Crystal realize that the attraction was mutual. As was usually the case, it was the simplest plan that worked the best. "It lacks a certain finesse that I like, but we're going to have to shove them in bed together," Sue had said, and Vickie had given her a look that combined disgust at the lack of subtlety with pity for Sue's obvious lack of manners (as seen through the eyes of a properly raised Southern woman).
In the end, that was what happened. The three senior members of the team spoke to Coach and gave their opinion that Becky and Crystal should room together on road trips. He agreed to this, even without knowing the reason; he knew that his players often had a better idea of what was going on with their teammates than he ever would.
"This is awkward," Becky said when they settled into the first hotel of a summer-long string. "I mean, I don't know you that well, even after three years."
"I could bunk down in the bathroom," Crystal replied, keeping a perfect deadpan.
"I'm not asking you to do that."
"I know that, I'm offerin'. I don't want you feelin' any kinda awkward. No matter how good it looks on you." After a moment, she said, "I said that, didn't I? I was hopin' it was just in my head, but the way you're lookin' at me says otherwise."
"Yeah, you did."
"Sorry. Guess I'm not good at tellin' a good-lookin' woman that she's good-lookin'."
"Thanks," Becky said, sitting down on the bed. "Do you want an overpriced bottle of something? Or an overpriced snack of some kind?"
This time Crystal managed not to say, 'no, I want you!', though her body language most likely suggested it. That was the only reason that she could come up with for the slight tinge of red in Becky's face; she didn't know that Becky's thoughts were so closely paralleling her own. "Nah, I just want to get settled in for the night. I just gotta find my sleepin' clothes and go put 'em on." She dug through a suitcase until she found what she was looking for, then started for the bathroom.
"Again with you and the bathroom? We've changed in the same locker room since 1999. Why are you worried about what I might see? You've got nothing to worry about."
"Didn't want to ask you to close your eyes or somethin', like we were two little girls havin' a sleepover."
"Don't worry. Get comfortable already, if you get much tenser you'll snap."
Crystal mentally shrugged and changed clothes. For her own sanity, she kept her eyes closed; she didn't want to see Becky looking away from her, judging her as unattractive the way so many others had. But she slipped once as she attempted to put her shorts on. Her eyes flew open, and there was Becky, watching with a faint smile on her face, and then there was Becky steadying her, bare skin against bare skin. "You tryin' to drive me crazy?" she asked in a rough whisper. "For heaven's sake, stop, please, before I-"
"Before you what? Before you do something like this?"
The kiss was everything Crystal had dreamed of, except for the awkward position it took place in. She broke away, gasping, "What? Why? Me? No way."
"Give me credit for not being stupid enough to mistake you for someone else. I know exactly who you are, Crystal LaTresa Robinson, and I knew damn well what I was doing." This time Becky's smile was pure mischief, the kind of grin that made her look even more like a teenage girl, the kind of grin that gave away all her years. "Turnabout's fair play- I tricked you into getting naked for me, so..." She drew her t-shirt over her head and threw it into a random corner of the hotel room. "And I'm not going to worry about whether you're watching or not. Unless you're not."
There was no doubt about whether Crystal was watching, or where the mutual nakedness would get them, or if Sue and Teresa and Vickie's fiendish plan had finally achieved success. There was some doubt about who had killed the last few springs in the cheap mattress, and some about how long they were going to keep it a secret, questions that might never be answered.
"You are a hell of a lot better than this than anyone would give you credit for," Becky said with a smile, propping herself up on one elbow and giving Crystal an appraising look.
"Thanks, I think. Wait! That was one of those left-handed compliments, wasn't it?" Crystal took out one of the pillows and whacked Becky with it. A pillow fight devolved from there.
"Remember, nothing below the belt!" Becky reminded her. "The Doctors Scott will personally turn you into a science project if you reinjure my knee."
"Hittin' you with a pillow isn't gonna tear any of your ligaments. Maybe one of mine, but none of yours."
"Hey, Shea Ralph was playing with her dog when she tore it once. There are some seriously weird injuries for us athlete types. Hey! That wasn't a pillow!"
Crystal grinned as she once more grabbed a pillow. "More fun that way, though."
"No fair. I can't move as well as you can."
"In more ways than one."
Becky made an outraged noise, kicked Crystal with her good leg, and simultaneously brought a pillow down in the vicinity of Crystal's chest. The pillow fight went to an entirely new level- pillow battle, or perhaps it was already up to pillow war.
Someone knocked on the door. "Go get that, would you?" Becky asked. Crystal found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and donned them as she got to the door.
She didn't have to be as cognizant of modesty as she was worried that she would, because it was Vickie at the door. "Some of us are tryin' to sleep," the team's co-captain said.
"And what were you tryin' to do?" Crystal countered.
Vickie blushed; it was hard to tell through her chocolate-colored skin, but Crystal knew it immediately. "Somethin' Teresa swears she heard tell of in the locker room in Russia. Just 'tween you and me, though, I think she's makin' the whole thing up. But that makes no nevermind. We have rookies, you know."
"You make Erin and K.B. sound like a contagious disease," Becky observed from the bed. The sound of her voice drew Vickie's attention to her, and to the fact that the only fabric within five feet of her was the pillowcase and the sheet covering the mattress.
Vickie's blush deepened. "I'll just leave you two then, so long's you don't wake the kids up," she mumbled, backing out of the doorway in record time. Becky didn't even wait for the door to close beofre she burst into laughter. Crystal saw her opportunity, dove for the bed, and soon the laughter was from tickling and not from Vickie's embarrassment.
Across the hall, Teresa waited in much the same position as Becky, only with the topsheet still on the bed. "Either of them dead yet?" she asked as Vickie returned.
"No, they're 'live and doin' a lot of kickin'."
"We did good with the two of them."
"Wasn't it Sue's idea to make them room together?"
"I'm 'cludin' her. How long you been this picky? C'mere, we've got business to finish."
Vickie allowed Teresa to wrap her up in a hug, but she wasn't quite up to resuming what they'd been doing. "Somethin's wrong there. Can't put my finger on it, but there's somethin' 'bout the two of them that just spells trouble. Like their fightin' isn't just play."
"You're worryin' too much, darlin'. Sure, Beck's got some stuff to work out, bein' out for the season, but Crystal's pickin' up the slack. They make a great team- they pick each other up, and Lord knows they're both just as crazy as the rest of us."
Vickie sighed, leaning back further and using Teresa's shoulder as a headrest. "I don't know what it is. But they're too different. Somethin's gonna give 'tween the two of them, and I wish I knew what it was. I don't want it endin' badly- I like 'em both, and I don't want there to be a whole mess to clean up. I-"
"Shhh," Teresa interrupted, covering Vickie's mouth. "If that day comes- and mind you I'm not sayin' it will- you know that you'll have me to rely on if you need me. I'll always be here for you. I swear it."
They don't have a clue how they became
Strangers
Strangers
The world's greatest lovers
And now they are strangers
The world's greatest lovers
Have turned into strangers
She can hear the screaming all too easily from the next room over, and it leaves a bitter feeling inside her mouth. Promises, even promises from a lover's lips, are worthless. How many times did she hear Becky and Crystal planning what they would do after they were both finished with the league? Now it's all falling apart and she has to handle it herself, because Teresa, whose promises sting in her memory, is miles south in Los Angeles. Her pride will not allow her to ask for Teresa's help in this, because she knows that Teresa should already have been here if she was going to be of any use.
She tried to warn them. She warned Teresa that night, just before Teresa finally convinced her to try the Russian trick (which hadn't een as interesting as she'd been led to believe). She's warned Crystal that Becky's temper has become more uncertain, warned Becky that Crystal can only be pushed so far. She knows them both too well, and not for the first time she wonders if her warnings were a self-fulfilling prophecy, if Becky and Crystal would haveoverlooked each other's faults if she hadn't made them so obvious. But she knows people, has spent enough time watching them, and she still thinks that she did the right thing.
A loud thud disrupts her thoughts. Something just hit the wall. That would be Becky, then, because when Crystal gets angry she only gets loud and profane- and the string of high-pitched conversation that follows only confirms Vickie's theory. The carefully planned romance of 2002 is crumbling under the reality of 2004.
"I hate you!" she hears from the next room. She sighs and steps into the bathroom so that she can hear the fight more clearly.
"How dare you?" Crystal screams. "You know damn well I haven't laid a hand on Shameka-"
"And don't tell me you don't want to! A pretty young thing who looks up to you like you were God- I'd be surprised if you bothered to tell me before you brought her in here for a fuck-session."
It takes everything that Crystal has to keep from slapping Becky right then and there. Looking isn't a crime, as they both know, and she hardly ever even does that with the rookie out of Arkansas. Her job has changed from ace shooter to defensive specialist- and mentor of the girl who's supposed to replace her eventually. She's done the job that she's supposed to do, put the team in front of her personal preferences, and this is the thanks she gets. It's no wonder that she yells at Becky, "She's our teammate, nothin' more to me. You should know me better than that, thinkin' that I'd off and take advantage of some kid. I'd like to think you wouldn't do that."
"And you know I wouldn't, and it disgusts me-"
"So why the hell do you think I would? I don't want her! I never did." Crystal's voice breaks, and as hard as she tries she can't look Becky in the eye, because the hurricane force contained within is too strong for her. "I don't want anyone else."
"And you can't look me in the eye and say that, can you? We both know you can look, but you're lying to me about it, and that makes it even worse."
And with that, Crystal's anger rises to a new level. "You're one to talk! You disappear some nights on the road to 'visit old friends', never mind that ain't no one in this league played with you in college or overseas. How many lies did you tell me that I just took 'cause I loved you? How many questions didn't I ask 'cause I took it for granted you were as honest with me as I was with you? Tell me now, Rebecca, tell me now, how many you've had?"
Becky is furious at Crystal turning the accusations back on her, furious at the use of the full name she has eschewed. "None, damn it, none! I just told you I wouldn't-"
"And did you tell the brunette in Detroit that? Or the redhead in Phoenix? Or the wild cowgirl in San Antonio? You lie even worse than you think I do. These two years I have been loyal to you and faithful and if I ever looked at another woman I regretted it, and THIS is my reward!" Crystal throws an envelope at Becky; pictures fall to the floor, an all-too-familiar figure locked in embrace with women who aren't Crystal. Before Becky can say anything, Crystal throws open the drawer of the bedside table and takes out the Gideon Bible. "I swear on this Bible right here that since you got 'round to tellin' me you wanted me, I have never even thought 'bout bein' with any woman but you. I have not kissed another woman, or touched one, or had sex with one." She throws the Bible on the bed. "Can you do the same thing, Becky? Can you swear to me that all those shots were mistaken identity?"
Becky reaches for the Holy Book, and a flame of hope flares up in Crystal's heart, but the hope dies when Becky looks at her and says, "This is the big leagues. A piece of ass on the road doesn't mean anything. But if you were with-"
"GOD DAMN IT, I DIDN'T TOUCH HER!!" To be back at square one when she swore on the Bible- Crystal has gone right to wrath. "GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD!" Shaking with rage, she looks at Becky through new eyes and sees what her lover has become: the sheer stubbornness that brought her to stardom has turned into a belief that she's always right; the endless adulation that has risen up in the last two years has blinded her; the torn ligament that ended the prevoius season has left more than just the scar along her knee, but has cut deep into her confidence and cut part of her fuse off. Crystal can see now Becky's dark side, a part of her that was never clear before and understand how helpless she is. This is not the woman she fell in love with five years ago.
Becky looks coldly at her, blue-gray eyes the color of approaching thunderclouds, depthless and soulless. They might as well be strangers as she says, "I will not be lied to."
Crystal takes a deep breath. "Not by me. And you never have been. And you never will be. You're slippin' into a pit, and you can't even see it in the darkness. You've got to believe in what you know you can do, not what everyone else tells you. You're one of the best, but you're not the be-all and end-all they're makin' you out to be. You're actin' like a big shot, and not even a good one. I can't just stand by and let that happen to you. I still love you, fool that I am, and I'll do anythin' to make things right for you. But you gotta listen to me. I won't lie to you, and that cuts both ways."
"There's only one things you can still do for me." A myriad of expressions cross Becky's face before it turns into a blank mask. "Get out."
Crystal absorbs that, nods, and walks out of the room. She has no stinging taunts to throw over her shoulder, no words intended to injure or even to make the wheels turn in Becky's mind. What's done is done, and it's clear that even if she wanted to she could never return to Becky's arms. And she has no desire to lie with the stranger who wears such a hauntingly familiar face. Better that it end, and end definitively; stretching out disaster only makes it worse, as she knows from the belated firing of Coach Adubato.
Becky can't believe that Crystal took it so easily; that wasn't what she was expecting. She still has the prepared counter responses running through her mind, words sharper than the sharpest knife. She wonders now how well she can claim she knew Crystal, because the entire confrontation had been out of character- or what she thought was Crystal's character. But she's tired of trying to explain the difference between a groupie and a teammate, nor does she care anymore. It's better this way, she decides, better that they part as the strangers they started.
Vickie opens her door and calls Crystal's name softly. With open arms she greets her friend, offering a shoulder and a support as needed. "Strange that it ends this way," she says to Crystal.
Crystal shakes her head. "No, 'tain't. I lost her to everyone else. She's theirs now, 'til they get bored with her and find someone new to follow. It's over." The words echo in the quiet room, and the few tears that fall splash down like the first drops of a thunderstorm.
Rating: PG-13, maybe R- I suck at ratings
A/N: Two hours. Second scene a year after the first, third scene a year after the second.
Disclaimer/Legalese: People real. Slash fake. Please don't sue.
Pairing: Becky Hammon/Crystal Robinson, New York Liberty, WNBA
Summary: Decisions, decisions.
Just think what we were so recently
Strangers
Strangers
The world's greatest lovers
Last week we were strangers
Becky had drawn all eyes the moment she came into the gym. Sophia had made a crack about how she didn't know that there were ballgirls in a practice session, and Becky had knocked Sophia on her ass, and Teresa had knocked Becky on her ass, and Becky had gotten up and said something about Teresa's mother, and that settled the whole thing. The driver's license in her bag had established that she was twenty-two years old, much to everyone's surprise. When she got into the groove, though, everyone believed that she had been playing basketball that long. The remarkable became commonplace, and eyes stopped widening whenever Becky made a move that would have had most players flat on their backs and counting the stars flying around their heads.
But one set of eyes had never stopped watching and marveling. Crystal wasn't very good with the right words, so she opted for the coward's way out and never said any words at all. She just watched as Becky fought her way onto the Liberty's roster, despite the coach's reluctance to keep a shooting guard in the body of a point guard; watched through her own success at rearranging the Liberty's starting lineup; watched as Becky made her first major mark on a night full of grief. A year passed, and another, and Becky had officially arrived, a lethal scorer off the bench who some swore had a portrait hidden somewhere back home, a glittering blonde figure with stormcloud eyes and girlish features that had drawn more than just Crystal's gaze.
And still Crystal didn't know what to say, and she felt outclassed, terrified that if she said anything Becky would look up and laugh in her face. She threw her passion and her fear into the game, because there was nothing else she could do. She didn't realize that her increasingly fiery play was also drawing eyes, nor would she have believed it if she saw. But a spark had lit within the quiet Oklahoman, and it shone like a beacon, calling, and Becky was coming to realize that Crystal was worthy of her attention.
They were both oblivious to the fact that most of their teammates had figured this out well before they had; love often works that way. Sue and Teresa, and therefore Vickie, worked on involuted schemes to make Becky and Crystal realize that the attraction was mutual. As was usually the case, it was the simplest plan that worked the best. "It lacks a certain finesse that I like, but we're going to have to shove them in bed together," Sue had said, and Vickie had given her a look that combined disgust at the lack of subtlety with pity for Sue's obvious lack of manners (as seen through the eyes of a properly raised Southern woman).
In the end, that was what happened. The three senior members of the team spoke to Coach and gave their opinion that Becky and Crystal should room together on road trips. He agreed to this, even without knowing the reason; he knew that his players often had a better idea of what was going on with their teammates than he ever would.
"This is awkward," Becky said when they settled into the first hotel of a summer-long string. "I mean, I don't know you that well, even after three years."
"I could bunk down in the bathroom," Crystal replied, keeping a perfect deadpan.
"I'm not asking you to do that."
"I know that, I'm offerin'. I don't want you feelin' any kinda awkward. No matter how good it looks on you." After a moment, she said, "I said that, didn't I? I was hopin' it was just in my head, but the way you're lookin' at me says otherwise."
"Yeah, you did."
"Sorry. Guess I'm not good at tellin' a good-lookin' woman that she's good-lookin'."
"Thanks," Becky said, sitting down on the bed. "Do you want an overpriced bottle of something? Or an overpriced snack of some kind?"
This time Crystal managed not to say, 'no, I want you!', though her body language most likely suggested it. That was the only reason that she could come up with for the slight tinge of red in Becky's face; she didn't know that Becky's thoughts were so closely paralleling her own. "Nah, I just want to get settled in for the night. I just gotta find my sleepin' clothes and go put 'em on." She dug through a suitcase until she found what she was looking for, then started for the bathroom.
"Again with you and the bathroom? We've changed in the same locker room since 1999. Why are you worried about what I might see? You've got nothing to worry about."
"Didn't want to ask you to close your eyes or somethin', like we were two little girls havin' a sleepover."
"Don't worry. Get comfortable already, if you get much tenser you'll snap."
Crystal mentally shrugged and changed clothes. For her own sanity, she kept her eyes closed; she didn't want to see Becky looking away from her, judging her as unattractive the way so many others had. But she slipped once as she attempted to put her shorts on. Her eyes flew open, and there was Becky, watching with a faint smile on her face, and then there was Becky steadying her, bare skin against bare skin. "You tryin' to drive me crazy?" she asked in a rough whisper. "For heaven's sake, stop, please, before I-"
"Before you what? Before you do something like this?"
The kiss was everything Crystal had dreamed of, except for the awkward position it took place in. She broke away, gasping, "What? Why? Me? No way."
"Give me credit for not being stupid enough to mistake you for someone else. I know exactly who you are, Crystal LaTresa Robinson, and I knew damn well what I was doing." This time Becky's smile was pure mischief, the kind of grin that made her look even more like a teenage girl, the kind of grin that gave away all her years. "Turnabout's fair play- I tricked you into getting naked for me, so..." She drew her t-shirt over her head and threw it into a random corner of the hotel room. "And I'm not going to worry about whether you're watching or not. Unless you're not."
There was no doubt about whether Crystal was watching, or where the mutual nakedness would get them, or if Sue and Teresa and Vickie's fiendish plan had finally achieved success. There was some doubt about who had killed the last few springs in the cheap mattress, and some about how long they were going to keep it a secret, questions that might never be answered.
"You are a hell of a lot better than this than anyone would give you credit for," Becky said with a smile, propping herself up on one elbow and giving Crystal an appraising look.
"Thanks, I think. Wait! That was one of those left-handed compliments, wasn't it?" Crystal took out one of the pillows and whacked Becky with it. A pillow fight devolved from there.
"Remember, nothing below the belt!" Becky reminded her. "The Doctors Scott will personally turn you into a science project if you reinjure my knee."
"Hittin' you with a pillow isn't gonna tear any of your ligaments. Maybe one of mine, but none of yours."
"Hey, Shea Ralph was playing with her dog when she tore it once. There are some seriously weird injuries for us athlete types. Hey! That wasn't a pillow!"
Crystal grinned as she once more grabbed a pillow. "More fun that way, though."
"No fair. I can't move as well as you can."
"In more ways than one."
Becky made an outraged noise, kicked Crystal with her good leg, and simultaneously brought a pillow down in the vicinity of Crystal's chest. The pillow fight went to an entirely new level- pillow battle, or perhaps it was already up to pillow war.
Someone knocked on the door. "Go get that, would you?" Becky asked. Crystal found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and donned them as she got to the door.
She didn't have to be as cognizant of modesty as she was worried that she would, because it was Vickie at the door. "Some of us are tryin' to sleep," the team's co-captain said.
"And what were you tryin' to do?" Crystal countered.
Vickie blushed; it was hard to tell through her chocolate-colored skin, but Crystal knew it immediately. "Somethin' Teresa swears she heard tell of in the locker room in Russia. Just 'tween you and me, though, I think she's makin' the whole thing up. But that makes no nevermind. We have rookies, you know."
"You make Erin and K.B. sound like a contagious disease," Becky observed from the bed. The sound of her voice drew Vickie's attention to her, and to the fact that the only fabric within five feet of her was the pillowcase and the sheet covering the mattress.
Vickie's blush deepened. "I'll just leave you two then, so long's you don't wake the kids up," she mumbled, backing out of the doorway in record time. Becky didn't even wait for the door to close beofre she burst into laughter. Crystal saw her opportunity, dove for the bed, and soon the laughter was from tickling and not from Vickie's embarrassment.
Across the hall, Teresa waited in much the same position as Becky, only with the topsheet still on the bed. "Either of them dead yet?" she asked as Vickie returned.
"No, they're 'live and doin' a lot of kickin'."
"We did good with the two of them."
"Wasn't it Sue's idea to make them room together?"
"I'm 'cludin' her. How long you been this picky? C'mere, we've got business to finish."
Vickie allowed Teresa to wrap her up in a hug, but she wasn't quite up to resuming what they'd been doing. "Somethin's wrong there. Can't put my finger on it, but there's somethin' 'bout the two of them that just spells trouble. Like their fightin' isn't just play."
"You're worryin' too much, darlin'. Sure, Beck's got some stuff to work out, bein' out for the season, but Crystal's pickin' up the slack. They make a great team- they pick each other up, and Lord knows they're both just as crazy as the rest of us."
Vickie sighed, leaning back further and using Teresa's shoulder as a headrest. "I don't know what it is. But they're too different. Somethin's gonna give 'tween the two of them, and I wish I knew what it was. I don't want it endin' badly- I like 'em both, and I don't want there to be a whole mess to clean up. I-"
"Shhh," Teresa interrupted, covering Vickie's mouth. "If that day comes- and mind you I'm not sayin' it will- you know that you'll have me to rely on if you need me. I'll always be here for you. I swear it."
They don't have a clue how they became
Strangers
Strangers
The world's greatest lovers
And now they are strangers
The world's greatest lovers
Have turned into strangers
She can hear the screaming all too easily from the next room over, and it leaves a bitter feeling inside her mouth. Promises, even promises from a lover's lips, are worthless. How many times did she hear Becky and Crystal planning what they would do after they were both finished with the league? Now it's all falling apart and she has to handle it herself, because Teresa, whose promises sting in her memory, is miles south in Los Angeles. Her pride will not allow her to ask for Teresa's help in this, because she knows that Teresa should already have been here if she was going to be of any use.
She tried to warn them. She warned Teresa that night, just before Teresa finally convinced her to try the Russian trick (which hadn't een as interesting as she'd been led to believe). She's warned Crystal that Becky's temper has become more uncertain, warned Becky that Crystal can only be pushed so far. She knows them both too well, and not for the first time she wonders if her warnings were a self-fulfilling prophecy, if Becky and Crystal would haveoverlooked each other's faults if she hadn't made them so obvious. But she knows people, has spent enough time watching them, and she still thinks that she did the right thing.
A loud thud disrupts her thoughts. Something just hit the wall. That would be Becky, then, because when Crystal gets angry she only gets loud and profane- and the string of high-pitched conversation that follows only confirms Vickie's theory. The carefully planned romance of 2002 is crumbling under the reality of 2004.
"I hate you!" she hears from the next room. She sighs and steps into the bathroom so that she can hear the fight more clearly.
"How dare you?" Crystal screams. "You know damn well I haven't laid a hand on Shameka-"
"And don't tell me you don't want to! A pretty young thing who looks up to you like you were God- I'd be surprised if you bothered to tell me before you brought her in here for a fuck-session."
It takes everything that Crystal has to keep from slapping Becky right then and there. Looking isn't a crime, as they both know, and she hardly ever even does that with the rookie out of Arkansas. Her job has changed from ace shooter to defensive specialist- and mentor of the girl who's supposed to replace her eventually. She's done the job that she's supposed to do, put the team in front of her personal preferences, and this is the thanks she gets. It's no wonder that she yells at Becky, "She's our teammate, nothin' more to me. You should know me better than that, thinkin' that I'd off and take advantage of some kid. I'd like to think you wouldn't do that."
"And you know I wouldn't, and it disgusts me-"
"So why the hell do you think I would? I don't want her! I never did." Crystal's voice breaks, and as hard as she tries she can't look Becky in the eye, because the hurricane force contained within is too strong for her. "I don't want anyone else."
"And you can't look me in the eye and say that, can you? We both know you can look, but you're lying to me about it, and that makes it even worse."
And with that, Crystal's anger rises to a new level. "You're one to talk! You disappear some nights on the road to 'visit old friends', never mind that ain't no one in this league played with you in college or overseas. How many lies did you tell me that I just took 'cause I loved you? How many questions didn't I ask 'cause I took it for granted you were as honest with me as I was with you? Tell me now, Rebecca, tell me now, how many you've had?"
Becky is furious at Crystal turning the accusations back on her, furious at the use of the full name she has eschewed. "None, damn it, none! I just told you I wouldn't-"
"And did you tell the brunette in Detroit that? Or the redhead in Phoenix? Or the wild cowgirl in San Antonio? You lie even worse than you think I do. These two years I have been loyal to you and faithful and if I ever looked at another woman I regretted it, and THIS is my reward!" Crystal throws an envelope at Becky; pictures fall to the floor, an all-too-familiar figure locked in embrace with women who aren't Crystal. Before Becky can say anything, Crystal throws open the drawer of the bedside table and takes out the Gideon Bible. "I swear on this Bible right here that since you got 'round to tellin' me you wanted me, I have never even thought 'bout bein' with any woman but you. I have not kissed another woman, or touched one, or had sex with one." She throws the Bible on the bed. "Can you do the same thing, Becky? Can you swear to me that all those shots were mistaken identity?"
Becky reaches for the Holy Book, and a flame of hope flares up in Crystal's heart, but the hope dies when Becky looks at her and says, "This is the big leagues. A piece of ass on the road doesn't mean anything. But if you were with-"
"GOD DAMN IT, I DIDN'T TOUCH HER!!" To be back at square one when she swore on the Bible- Crystal has gone right to wrath. "GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK HEAD!" Shaking with rage, she looks at Becky through new eyes and sees what her lover has become: the sheer stubbornness that brought her to stardom has turned into a belief that she's always right; the endless adulation that has risen up in the last two years has blinded her; the torn ligament that ended the prevoius season has left more than just the scar along her knee, but has cut deep into her confidence and cut part of her fuse off. Crystal can see now Becky's dark side, a part of her that was never clear before and understand how helpless she is. This is not the woman she fell in love with five years ago.
Becky looks coldly at her, blue-gray eyes the color of approaching thunderclouds, depthless and soulless. They might as well be strangers as she says, "I will not be lied to."
Crystal takes a deep breath. "Not by me. And you never have been. And you never will be. You're slippin' into a pit, and you can't even see it in the darkness. You've got to believe in what you know you can do, not what everyone else tells you. You're one of the best, but you're not the be-all and end-all they're makin' you out to be. You're actin' like a big shot, and not even a good one. I can't just stand by and let that happen to you. I still love you, fool that I am, and I'll do anythin' to make things right for you. But you gotta listen to me. I won't lie to you, and that cuts both ways."
"There's only one things you can still do for me." A myriad of expressions cross Becky's face before it turns into a blank mask. "Get out."
Crystal absorbs that, nods, and walks out of the room. She has no stinging taunts to throw over her shoulder, no words intended to injure or even to make the wheels turn in Becky's mind. What's done is done, and it's clear that even if she wanted to she could never return to Becky's arms. And she has no desire to lie with the stranger who wears such a hauntingly familiar face. Better that it end, and end definitively; stretching out disaster only makes it worse, as she knows from the belated firing of Coach Adubato.
Becky can't believe that Crystal took it so easily; that wasn't what she was expecting. She still has the prepared counter responses running through her mind, words sharper than the sharpest knife. She wonders now how well she can claim she knew Crystal, because the entire confrontation had been out of character- or what she thought was Crystal's character. But she's tired of trying to explain the difference between a groupie and a teammate, nor does she care anymore. It's better this way, she decides, better that they part as the strangers they started.
Vickie opens her door and calls Crystal's name softly. With open arms she greets her friend, offering a shoulder and a support as needed. "Strange that it ends this way," she says to Crystal.
Crystal shakes her head. "No, 'tain't. I lost her to everyone else. She's theirs now, 'til they get bored with her and find someone new to follow. It's over." The words echo in the quiet room, and the few tears that fall splash down like the first drops of a thunderstorm.