Disclaimer: Some of these people are real. Some of them are fictional of my own creation. Some of them are fictional and belong to Glenn; they've been kidnapped from his fic without permission, and they'll be returned in due course (perhaps a dart game and a drink or five two later, but they will be returned). The Clubhouse is still mine.

Cassie had to look twice at the dimly lit building to make sure that Chris had given her the right address. It didn't look like the kind of nighborhood that her old teammate would have been caught frequenting, but the addresses matched up. The squat, dark building with the neon glimmers in its single front window was her destination. She approached it cautiously. It had to be a prank of some sort. Chris had a very twisted sense of humor, and might easily have decided that the best way to introduce Cassie to the joys of being herself was to send her to a strip club.

She approached the door cautiously, almost convincing herself that the best move would just be to fly home and settle herself down before tracking down Minty for several apologies. She was poised to turn away when the door suddenly opened, emitting two dark-haired women who seemed to have become conjoined at lips, hips, and fingertips. It was the kind of embrace/kiss that invited rubbernecking, and Cassie couldn't take her eyes off them. She gasped when the taller of them broke away for air and said, "Hey, what took ya so long- oh, sorry, mistook ya for someone. Ya lost or somethin'?"

"No, I'm supposed to be here."

"Then whatcha starin' at the place for? Get inside 'fore Temora nabs the last vanilla ice cream. Yo, Tiana, we got a newbie!" With that, the two women disappeared into the night, holding hands but no longer as passionately into each other as they had been moments ago. Cassie watched them leave before returning her attention to the now closed door. It didn't seem inclined to open of its own accord. Eventually she knocked. A slit opened in the door to reveal penetrating green eyes. "Card, please."

"Card? Uh, Chris sent me."

"Chris who?"

"Chris from the Warriors."

"What's that team's nickname?"

Cassie wondered what the point of the sports trivia contest was, but answered the question anyway. "The Rainbow Warriors. Look, why are you-"

"Pass me your union card for a sec."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"You want to stand out there all night?"

Cassie passed her card through the slot in the door. It came back to her the promised second later with what looked like a blank sticker on the back. The door then proceeded to open. "Welcome to Lefty's Clubhouse," said the young woman who had quizzed Cassie so intently; she was pretty, with long brown hair and a warm smile. "I'm Tiana, and I make sure that the only people here are the ones who are supposed to be here. We get a clientele that has a lot of unwanted friends. I'm sorry for giving you the third degree- smack Chris for me when you get in?"

"Sure," Cassie said. She pushed open the swinging door that separated the anteroom from the main bar and immediately walked into a scene of chaos. The brawl over at the jukebox was, on second inspection, a tickle fight that didn't seem to be getting much done. The unruly mob in the opposite rear corner wasn't actually trying to kill anyone, just jostling for position in the darts game; the current thrower was a short brunet with impressive upper body strength who pumped his fist triumphantly as the dart thudded into the center of the target. "Nice shot, Wendy!" someone shouted over the din.

She stepped closer awkwardly, feeling quite out of place. Looking up gave her a restored sense of equilibrium, because there were sports everywhere she looked; keeping an eye on all the scores at once gave her a headache and had her walking into several people. They smiled understandingly at her. Finally, she made it to the bar and found an empty stool. "What does it take for a girl to get a drink around here?"

"Whaddya want?" the bartender snarled. "If ya want it, we got, but youse gotta tell me. I ain't no mind read'a."

Cassie blinked, needing a moment before she interpreted the thick Brooklyn accent. "Uh, I'll take a Coke."

The Coke slid down the counter. "Two bucks."

"Pricey."

"Ya get peace an' quiet."

"You call this peace and quiet?"

"Dere's worse."

"Indeed."

Cassie looked over to see who had spoken. A pretty young woman with shoulder-length hair smiled at her. Blue eyes with a trace of stormcloud gray regarded her with frank admiration. "Uh, hi," she managed to get out before she managed to get sidetracked by the thought of kissing the other woman's eminently kissable lips.

"New here, huh? It's always nice to have fresh blood. It keeps the parties from getting stale. You can only hear the same stories and tell the same jokes so many times before they get old."

"And use the same lines," one of the woman's previous companions, a rangy blonde with a wicked smile, shouted from a nearby table.

"Butt out!" To Cassie, she said, "Sorry. She gets involved in everything. She just doesn't know how not to interfere."

"I've known people like that," Cassie laughed. She sipped her Coke as a way of distracting herself from the turn her thoughts were taking. Minty's departure had been too abrupt and too recent for her to be comfortable with the thought of taking up with anyone, and yet this stranger who showed her such kindness stirred something within her... but it had to stay within her because she could only be herself so far. If she took something innocent and turned it into a flirtation, then she'd only get herself deeper into trouble, and she needed that like she needed a hole in the head.

The other woman watched her carefully, then signaled the bartender. "Hey, Temora, could you ask Ivy for a couple of sundaes?" she asked quietly.

"Sure t'ing. Youse gotta new definishun'a sweet talk'a somet'in'?"

"Sort of." Temora turned away, while the other woman waited for Cassie's train of thought to finish its trip. Finally, Cassie's sky blue eyes snapped back into focus. "Welcome back. Enjoy the trip?"

"No, not really," Cassie replied bluntly.

"Been there, done that. Girl trouble?"

Cassie flinched. "Do I have it written on my forehead or something? I mean, God, I didn't think it was that obvious!"

"Not on your forehead, but on something in your wallet. Tiana gave you a sticker when you came in, right?"

Cassie dug out her wallet and looked at the back of her union card. "Yeah, but it's blank."

"Press it. It's like the security things they put on some checks, where you have to warm it up to see the design." The other woman watched as Cassie pushed the sticker with her finger. Ink curled up from the paper into a design: an old-fashioned coat of arms with a hockey stick and a baseball bat crossed under the mutant child of a soccer ball and a basketball. "There it is. Subtle but sure. Welcome to Lefty's Clubhouse, the country's first bar for gay athletes."

Cassie blinked. "You mean- no. This is coming too fast. I'm going to wake up any second now, and Filly's going to be hogging the bathroom, and this is never going to have happened."

"Sundaes up!" That was all the warning Temora gave them before the ice cream slid down the counter towards them. The other woman shot a ten back at the bartender before looking at Cassie's sundae. "I took the liberty of ordering one for you. Ivy makes the best sundaes on the planet, bar none. She just knows what's right for people."

Cassie joined the other woman in regarding her sundae. Somewhere at the bottom, there was vanilla ice cream- the really good vanilla that wasn't actually white, either. It lay underneath a thick mantle of chocolate and caramel sauce, a healthy dollop of whipped cream, a scattering of rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry that seemed to have broken somewhere between the kitchen and the counter. "Wow," she whispered, awestruck by the masterpiece that was melting before her eyes. Then reality set in, and she reached for her wallet. "How much-"

"Do I look like the kind of white trash that goes Dutch? I ordered it, I bought it, now you eat it." The gray tint to the other woman's eyes intensified as Cassie slowly put her wallet away; for the first time Cassie saw behind the gentle features to the iron will that lay beneath. There was a hard set to the other woman's face that wasn't obvious unless someone were looking very carefully for it. "There, that's better. I guess I'm not as good at the flirting thing as I thought. I don't usually have to start it off."

"I can see why you wouldn't. You're really-" Cassie stopped. "And I'm really obvious. Do you mind if I fade into the background with embarrassment?"

"Yes, actually. You don't need to be embarrassed. I don't bite, and I don't think you're stupid just because you're not a mac momma with a line for every occasion. I think it's kinda cute, actually."

Cassie grinned, but only because it was the only way to keep from sliding off the barstool and trying to hide under the bar's overhang. She could feel the flush suffusing her whole face and starting to work its way down her arms. The last time she'd felt that awkward was- but unfortunately it wasn't all that long ago; she'd blushed just as deeply when she realized Minty was playing with her and it should not have taken her as long as it did for her to figure this out. She sighed. "Look, please don't take this the wrong way. I really like you, and I appreciate the ice cream. But it's too soon. There's been too much going on all at once, and I can't think about anything."

"I get that. It hasn't been all that long for me either." The other woman darted a look over at her friends' table, hoping that her ex wouldn't notice the motion. She was unsuccessful, and winced as her ex sarcastically lifted a glass to her. "You really chose a shitty time for your first time, though. This time of the year, most people are going home. I know I can only hang around New York for so long before wanting to shoot things, and I don't have a New York license."

Cassie let that one go by her, imagining the whoosh sound as it did. "Oh, I know it's the end of the season. I'm staying around for a few days, though. I can't go home after what happened, so here at least I figure I can get a little privacy because New Yorkers like to leave people alone."

"Mmm. Wish I could say the same- about staying around, I mean- but I'm at the end of my hanging around the city time, and now I need to go do something useful. I may have a couple of more days left in me now, so if you really want..."

"I'll be here every night then."

"Okay. Okay, yeah, that works."

"Okay. That's good." The other woman swiveled her stool around. "I have to go, though. Last train home may be an hour off, but I've got several transfers to make before I get there. I love Temora and Carol and the lot of them for putting this place together, but why does it have to be in the ass end of nowhere?"

"'Cause we get less traffic that way," the blonde with the evil smile sang out.

"Oh, shut up."

Cassie watched as her dining companion walked out the door. Fretfully, she poked the remnants of her sundae with the long-handled spoon. Something told her that she had already gotten in too deep, and this was without having gotten very far at all. There was just something about the woman with the stormy eyes that drew her and at the same time repelled her, some sense that she knew this stranger as well as she knew herself, and it terrified her.

A bottle appeared before her, still sealed. A bottle-opener clanged down next to it, and Temora was gone before Cassie put two and two together. The blonde sent a curious gaze along the bar, but Temora didn't see it- or if she saw it, she chose to ignore it. Cassie decided to only look a gift beer in the mouth long enough to drink it, chugging it as quickly as she could, before the ache of the mistake she suspected she had made started to sink in. She was left alone to ponder and watch the scores until she suddenly hurled the bottle to the floor and stalked out of the bar.

"Tempramental," a brown-skinned woman drawled.

"Reminds you of someone, doesn't she?" asked the ubiquitous and wicked blonde.

"Several."

Cassie came back every night of the week that she had determined to spend in New York. She became acquainted with the college kids who worked the tables, the bouncer Shondra, the doorkeeper Tiana, and some of the other patrons. It was odd, though; she didn't get to speak very long to anyone before something came up. Sometimes it was the settling of a bet, sometimes it was the last train to Jersey, and one disturbing time it was the arrival of the woman's girlfriend that turned a civilized conversation into something out of an X-rated movie. "Get ta da back!" Temora had shrieked, and Cassie had then learned that the Clubhouse came equipped for those days when a couple just couldn't hold it in.

Oddly enough, Cassie had struck up something that could vaguely be described as a friendship with the surly bartender. At least, Temora didn't curse or laugh at her when she groaned, "Am I some kind of damn pariah or something?"

"Nah, just unlucky," Temora snapped. "Don't worry, ya didn't get sent ta Coventry'a somet'in' like dat. Ya ain't wort' dat kinda effort."

"I should be flattered by this?" The second the question came out of her mouth, Cassie flinched and slammed her head against the bar top. In an instant she was reminded of every single way she had screwed up with Minty, every detail of how she would never be able to make things right, and everything that would haunt her until God only knew when. "Temora?" When she noticed that she had the bartender's attention, she muttered, "Kill me. Now. Please. Quickly."

"'Gainst da rules. I t'ink. Fuck, if it ain't, oughta be. Ya can have it named aft'a youse, even."

"I hate you," Cassie mumbled into the polished wood of the bar. It didn't seem to care, and Temora didn't seem impressed. "I hate all of you and everything."

"Welcome ta my woild."

Conversation wafted through the bar like excess perfume, bits and pieces of other people's lives that had to be happier than hers because everyone's life was happier than hers at the moment. Baseball players were talking shop; the animated discussion of pitching mechanics caused her to slam her forehead against the bar again. A pair of waitresses trying to remember the NCAA transfer rules only served to remind her of the issues Minty had had with her school. Several hockey players bemoaned the lockout, and Cassie realized that she had most likely screwed herself out of a job in the game she loved. Every thought led her to the conclusion that there was just no point in looking up.

Meanwhile, Tiana had just opened the door from the anteroom. The green-eyed beauty scanned the room quickly. "She's over there," she told the newest arrival, pointing at Cassie. "I think you're just in time. She looks like hell."

"Thanks." The woman nodded at Tiana and made her way through the crowded mess that was the Clubhouse at the intersection of six seasons, shooing a diminutive redheaded man off the stool next to Cassie's. "She was right. You look miserable."

"Go 'way," Cassie sniffed automatically.

"Do you know how many plans I had to rearrange to be here? If you don't appreciate me, I'm going home."

Cassie looked up slowly, as the voice did seem familiar. She couldn't believe what she saw. "You... you came, you're really here- I thought you said-"

"I heard you needed me, and even though I wasn't sure I should be with you, I figured you were worth that chance. Besides, they let me have a gun, so if it doesn't work..." But a warm smile deflected the dangerous sound of the words.

"I've been through too much shit for it not to work out. This time, I'm going to do things right." Cassie spoke with a firmness and confidence that had been absent for a while, and her arm went around the other woman's waist.