Carla was acutely aware of how the dark blue Robinson jersey she had thrown on in the restroom at Penn Station was such a sharp contrast with her gray pinstriped slacks and ivory silk sweater, and it was for the best that she had left the suit jacket at the office; as it was, she was starting to sweat, not that she would let such discomfort show through her corporate makeup and perfect hair.

Most people took advantage of having to work on Saturday by dressing down and being comfortable. Carla preferred to think of it as dress rehearsal. Judging from the eyebrow Jo had kept raised through most of the day, her niece thought she was overdoing it. "Now remember, these are my friends, and I won't have you embarrass me in front of them. If you don't behave appropriately, you'll never come to another game with me again, is that understood?"

"Yes, Aunt Carly," Jo replied sweetly, and Carla bit her tongue in order to avoid commenting on the shortening of her name.

"We're almost to the exit. Please don't tell your mother I'm introducing you to my friends. She'd find some of them unsavory and not allow you to see me again."

"Aunt Carly, I get it," Jo said impatiently. "This is a thing you have that other people don't get. Like a secret. I get it."

"See that you do," Carla said tersely as they emerged from the dark cab passageway under Penn Station and made the final turn onto 33rd Street. She could already see some of the "usual suspects" gathered by the employees' entrance; Rich's bright orange retro Giants cap and Jeannie's giant bags of camera equipment were both very recognizable, even from a distance. As she brought Jo closer, she could spot Mary's flaming red hair against the featureless black she always wore, Jersey boy Kevin's Devils backpack, and Jim's Tennessee shirt. "Hey, guys!" she called out. Her friends turned and greeted her with warm handshakes, except for Chris, who was as polite and gentlemanly as always and dared take the liberty of kissing her hand. "How about that game?"

"I thought Malone was gonna-" Jim stopped and glanced at Jo. "Jess had her way with Malone, didn't she?"

"Malone spent more time running away from our Jess than she did trying to defend anyone on our team!" Rich said with a snicker. "She was terrified of her!"

"And what about that fight between Shameka and Hunt? I never saw anything like it!" Kevin exclaimed. "None of the Detroit players looked like they ever saw anything like it either!"

"The Goody-Goody Two-Shoes Girls," Mary said derisively.

"Be fair, the Shock and the Sparks provide great role models for girls like Jo," Carla replied. "I'd rather have see her generation grow up as generous and selfless as Lisa Leslie, keep as clean and out of trouble as Brandy Reed, and hit the books just as hard as Tweedy Nolan. Better that than the selfishness we see out of Tamika Catchings or the hate Sue Bird spews."

Nods all around. Jeannie raked her fingers through her dark brown curls and said to Carla, "Tari already left, in her… play clothes. She was in a temper, didn't even stop to hit on me. Guess she's pissed at Coyle not playing her."

"Please. With Shameka, Barb, and Jess, we had more than enough bangers to take them out of their game, and Barb's versatile enough that she shut down Malone's outside game. She just thinks she can intimidate the coaching staff into doing what she wants, and Coyle's better than that," Chris said.

"Oh! Jo, get ready, here comes Ashley- she hit all those three-pointers you got excited about." Carla helped her niece to the railing.

"Great shooting, AB!" Mary yelled as the slim, well-dressed, sharpshooter emerged from the exit, and similar sentiments were forthcoming from the rest of the group. Ashley shrugged and worked her way down the line, scribbling on each item presented to her, answering compliments and questions with grunted monosyllables. Jo raised an eyebrow at the sloppy scrawl that, if looked at carefully, could possibly reveal itself to be a pair of initials and Ashley's number.

"Wish she'd hit the weight room more, though," Kevin muttered once the wiry guard had left.

"You mean I'm not the only one who thinks we could lose her to a stiff breeze?" Carla replied, and the group shared a laugh before taking positions again as another player came through. "That's Loree and her husband- he was an athlete at Tennessee too," Carla explained to Jo. Jo was only half-listening, as she already had her pen out for Loree. The point guard offered a shy smile to her fans as she signed next to Ashley's scribble. Hers wasn't much neater. Her wedding ring glinted in the late afternoon sunlight as she wrote.

"Thank you," Jo murmured to Loree, who blushed before moving on. Someone emerged from the tunnel just as Loree and her husband came out from under the awning, and Jo pulled her aunt's sleeve. "Aunt Carly, is that one of the players?"

Carla looked down the hall. "No, hon, but it's easy to see why you'd think so."

"That's Skirt Girl," Rich explained, settling on the fencing that separated players and fans. "She's on the Torch Patrol- they use her to do a lot of the lifts because she's so strong. And she won't wear anything except skirts and dresses, so she can't go in the air anyway."

"Her name's Caryn, Cathleen, spelled funny, something like that," Jim contributed.

The Torch Patroller emerged, still wearing the tight white tank top and brilliant blue-and-green skirt she had performed in. Her brown hair was in a high ponytail that kept spilling into her eyes. "Hey, Cathy, good work today," Carla said, offering her a low five.

Cathy slapped her hand, but she didn't look pleased. "We were shaky during the rally song, and I almost dropped Beth at the end of 'Get Mine, Get Yours'."

"You worry too much," Mary assured her, and even Jo couldn't miss the pleased flush that crept up Cathy's cheeks and the sudden shy smile that emerged to animate her face. "You held on longer than any of the guys did."

"I do what I gotta do. I better not keep you, though, Crystal's on her way out with Lisa, and Barbara and Tiffany just missed the elevator. See you around!" Cathy grabbed her bag and headed out, casting one last look back at Mary.

Jo got on her tiptoes and whispered to Carla, "Are they together or something?"

"I don't know, to be honest," Carla replied.

Jo nodded, looking far older than her years for a moment. "That's one of the reasons why you think Mom would freak out if she knew about your friends, huh?"

She had spoken perhaps more loudly than she intended, drawing Chris's attention. He begged pardon from Jim and Jeannie, allowing them to continue their baseball talk without him, and said to Jo, "I find it truly remarkable how many people find other people's personal lives and the way they live them to be their concern. Begging your indulgence, of course, since I recognize I am being a bit hypocritical by inserting myself into your conversation."

"Any time, Chris," Carla assured him, swinging over to Jo's other side. "Yeah, Sis is kind of a busybody. Thinks that everyone at these games is one of 'those people', if you know what I mean. She knows I'm not gay." The look she shot Chris seemed designed to prove that fact to everyone within a five-block radius, and she nervously pulled back an imaginary strand of hair that could not possibly have gotten loose from her bun. Fortunately, she was able to compose herself in time to greet the veteran shooter Crystal and the young, recently acquired, defensive stopper Lisa. Crystal was her usual fashionplate self; that evening, she was clearly going out on the town, wearing a tight black skirt that barely covered enough to be decent, a strapless gold top, and her customary two-inch boots. Her waist-length hair was piled up atop her head and crowned with a thick gold ribbon. Several of the guys whistled at her, and she acknowledged them with a cool little smile.

"You need to take Lisa here shopping," Carla laughed.

"Oh, honey, I know," Crystal replied in her dulcet voice.

"Yeah, you can't have her going around in another team's colors," Mary agreed. "Real New Yorkers wear black." She turned to demonstrate.

"Like Crystal ever needs an excuse to dress someone up," Jeannie remarked. Crystal deigned not to hear the remark, instead leaving a perfect signature on every item presented to her. Lisa followed in her footsteps, careful not to get too close; as everyone knew, Crystal had a short fuse and tended to berate people who dared to step into what she considered her personal space, and it was hard to tell from game to game just how much personal space she was claiming.

Barbara and Tiffany were close behind, still stinking from the game. Tiffany's money jump shot and Barbara's perimeter defense on Cheryl Malone had been the difference-makers in the game, so they had earned the right to be a little lackadaisical in their postgame rituals, but that didn't stop Carla from taking a couple of steps back, her nose wrinkled. Jo even hesitated before asking for their autographs, but both sweatsuited players were glad to oblige. "Don't wait up for Shay or Erin," Tiffany advised the group. "Erin's meetin' up with Tari and Hunt, and Shay said she had to get to bed early so she could be up in time for services."

"Shay figure out what she is yet?" Kevin asked. "Still can't figure out why a Mormon family raised their daughter in Israel and sent her to a Catholic high school, I really can't."

Tiffany shrugged. "Some kinda thing about being one of the lost tribes of Israel. I don't think anyone was really listenin' the last time she went off. Shouldn't say too much on her, since she gets to the basket better than anyone I ever met, but she's peculiar, even for this team. Tell the young'un-" she indicated Jo here- "to be careful if she ever does have a run-in with her, or especially with Erin. Neither of them takes no real well."

Carla simply shook her head and let Tiffany go. Barbara was tapping her foot impatiently by the taxi stand, and Barbara's defensive intensity did have a habit of flowing over into her offcourt life. It simply wouldn't do to have their defensive stopper off the bench beat the living daylights out of their starting small forward, especially not in front of the fans, especially not in front of young fans like Jo and a couple of the other young girls who were out there for their first up-close-and-personal experience with the New York Liberty.

"So who's left?" Kevin asked once the two forwards had left. He ticked off players on his fingers as he spoke. "We know not to expect Shay or Erin, and Shameka always stomps out through the parking lot exit. Jim saw her once when he was going to get his car."

Jim shuddered at the memory. "Even if you know she's on your side, that's not a woman you want to meet in a dark place. Good thing she only grunted at me when she saw my Lib gear, because she looked like she was ready for a fight, more than usual. If' I'd still been wearing my Tennessee shirt, she might have hurt me. Ah, Semeka, the risks I take for you."

Kevin, like the rest of them, ignored Jim's declaration of love, even if they had all known it would be forthcoming sometime during the day. "We saw Tari, Ashley, Loree, Barbara, Tiffany, C-Rob, and Lisa. So that leaves Janel, Lindsay, and-"

"JESSICA!" The name came in an awestruck chorus, and even the most jaded of the longtime fans had out cameras or markers as the rookie center came through the exit. She carried herself like a queen, her shoulders back and her head held high to properly showcase her six-five height, but the grin on her face as she greeted the loyal fans was genuinely friendly. Security didn't even bother watching from their post just inside the door, because they knew that she would go among her fans whether they liked it or not. She was their hero, and she responded to the adoration with warmth and grace. San Antonio hadn't wanted to give her up, but with the ownership down there working so hard to build a team on family values, the dangled bait of proper, demure Becky Hammon and her kids was too much to ignore. Blaze was known for brilliant deals, but Liberty fans had concluded that this was her best yet.

"Hey, guys, what's happening?" she asked. "Great to see you all- hey, where's Nick? He's usually the first one to call out."

"He had to write up the graduation at NYU for the Post," Carla explained, having gotten a note from the alumni association about the affair. "They want him to interview the art and film kids about what they expect to be doing with their degrees. I bet none of them are going to answer, 'asking people whether they want fries with that', even if that's what most of them will do."

Jessica laughed. "Might be one of the few times an Ohio State degree does you better than a degree from NYU! If you see him before I do, tell him he's supposed to send me a copy of that article before it gets published. Who's this young lady with you?"

"My niece Jo. It's her first game, and you definitely helped make it a memorable experience."

Jessica reached over the railing and engulfed Jo's hand in her own. "Nice to meet you, Jo. Thanks for coming, and I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. We need more girls like you getting into the game."

"Hey, Jess, so what about that block you put on Braxton?" Rich asked, popping his #50 jersey for a little extra emphasis.

"Which one?" Jessica answered with a deep laugh. "It was fun, and you should have heard some of the language she was using! English majors are fun to get angry, because you learn all kinds of new words you might not have known before. She's having a great season, though, which made it all the sweeter to help shut her down. She earned that spot on the All-Star team, no doubt about it, and she's only going to get better."

"Twenty-five and sixteen with four blocks and three steals isn't so bad yourself," Jeannie contributed, but Jessica shook her head.

"I wasn't happy with my passing today, and I missed some chippies I should have made. Coach and I agreed I need to come in tomorrow to work on some more of my post moves. She's got such faith in us that it makes me and the rest of the team want to play harder to prove her right- if anything, she trusts us more than the veterans on the team, and that's about the only thing that causes trouble. I guess I shouldn't have said that."

"Well, that explains why Barbara and C-Rob were both in moodier moods than usual, since Nolan lit Crystal up and Shameka got a lot of Barb's usual minutes," Chris remarked. "Looking forward to the road trip? Not that Chicago's all that close to Ohio, but I'm sure you have family willing to make the trip."

"Definitely. My family's not exactly the stay-at-home type. They've been to all of my road games so far. Any excuse to travel."

"How 'bout them Clippers?" Jim called out. Jessica's smile grew, causing her dimples to deepen. Jeannie grumbled about how it wasn't fair to enlist help in figuring out for once and for all who had the better baseball franchise from top to bottom, the Yankees or the Mets, but she was mostly smiling when she said it. Jessica fielded comments from the rest of the group as they edged closer; she had a knack for remembering everyone's name and the personal details they had at some point or another during these postgame chats.

A couple of more Torch Patrollers exited, one short with sultry dark eyes, the other taller and caramel-skinned; both of them had dark hair worn in high ponytails. Jessica took a moment from her conversation to greet them. "Buck up, 'Tina, you'll see Linda when we play Sacramento. Beth, you okay after Cathy-"

"Yeah, and she wouldn't stop apologizing for it," Beth said, rolling her eyes. "Really, I lost my balance, it's not her fault at all. 'Tina, would you tell her that when you get home?"

"Ja, whatever," the other dancer agreed. "She won't listen, though."

Still wrangling more or less amicably, the two dancers left together. Mary looked after them with pity in her eyes. "Think 'Tina knows her girlfriend's been screwing Stephanie Nash on the side?" she asked. No one was willing to give her an answer.

Dusk was starting to fall when Lindsay and Janel came through the exit. They looked like they had had words about something or another, and Lindsay burst out, "Why won't you tell me what's the matter?"

"'cause seriously, nothing's the matter," Janel replied calmly, greeting the few fans that had remained and signing as necessary.

"Then what's up with your hair?" Lindsay countered, gesturing at Janel's messy spikes. "And you got a tattoo!"

"Felt like doing something different with the hair and I've always had the tattoo. You just didn't notice it before." Janel leaned down and stage-whispered to Jo, "Teammates are really weird sometimes, you know?" She smiled a little shyly when Jo gave her a deadpan nod in response.

Lindsay clearly did not believe Janel's explanation, but she wasn't about to go looking for trouble. Instead, she turned to Jessica and said, "Hey, man, I'll give you a lift back up to the community, but you gotta wrap up whatever it is you're doing here. I can't wait all night, not when I gotta get in practice tomorrow."

"Let me talk to the guy at the garage first, get my car stashed for the week. Sorry, guys, I gotta go. I'll see you at the next game." Jessica waved at her adoring fans and crossed the street with Lindsay and Janel.

That seemed to conclude the festivities. Most of the group had a standing dinner reservation at a restaurant on Seventh Avenue, but Carla had to beg off this time, since she had to get Jo home. She said her goodbyes to the group, reminded Chris to call her sometime that week, and walked back towards the train at Times Square. But something that Lindsay had said bothered her, something she didn't think she could properly explain to Jo without sounding like an overly obsessed fan or a crazy woman, even if it was just related to her attention to detail.

She was pretty certain that she'd never seen that tattoo on Janel before either…

In case you were wondering, the three Torch Patrollers are Bizarro Libs. Cathy, Beth, and 'Tina are Cathrine Kraayeveld, Bethany Donaphin, and Martina Weber. "Malone" is Cheryl Ford, who's legitimate in this universe. "Hunt" is Swin Cash, who was raised by her daddy and named Tiffany Hunt. And that Janel isn't Bizarro!Janel...