Back together again.

The singles matches they had fought�they�d be great, putting Kylie down hard, and then� the win over Lacey and the post match � ahem� celebration� that had been sweet. Cathy felt back on top of her game, back into the groove. But together was where the Dennehy sisters belonged, together in the ring, whipping the snot out of the Daniels sisters.

The siblings had never met � in the ring or out of it� but this match seemed like it had been a long time coming. The styles were so similar, the burning desires to win at any cost, and the penchant for a little playful humiliation after the match was over�the Daniels were so much like the Dennehys that it was a given that this match would be a classic like no other in FAWN. So similar� Hell, Cathy thought to herself, I�ve even rooted for the pudgy little runt Chrissy, when she had been fighting some of the high nose snots like Shea London.

�Penny for your thoughts,� Cathy asks.

�I�d hate to cheat you out of a penny like that,� Shannen replies, playing up her reputation as not being the sharpest knife in the drawer. She loved that her opponent�s underestimated her, and mistook a little inexperience for a lot of ignorance. The younger sister relaxes in the recliner, her eyes closed as she visualizes the match. �We�re going to humiliate them. I can already feel little Missy�s sweaty little mug nuzzled in between my��

�Yeah�I know�I�ve been thinking about what Prissy�s eyes are going to look like with my hands between her legs, squeezing her little love box like a ripe�� Cathy interrupts.

�FIVE MINUTES!�

Standing, Cathy walks to the mirror, lifts her scuffed white boots to the wooden bench, and bends at the waist to retie them. Satisfied, she runs her hand up her smooth, creamy white thigh to firm butt. A baby blue thong with a wide waist band hugs her narrow hips. The thin strip of cloth dancing down between her buns and up the other side barely covers the subject in front and does nothing to conceal her backside. Straightening up, she again faces the mirror, adjusting her single ponytail, tightening it a little, and brushing back a few stands of jet black hair. Her baby blue sports bra barely covers her medium sized breasts, but the peaks of her small nipples, pressing against the semi see through material, are clearly visible.

She looks back over her shoulder, at Shannen standing behind her, tanned, a full head taller and 20 pound heavier. Her sister�s golden brown and blonde hair is tied back in an identical pony tail, and she wears a nearly identical outfit, except in black. Looking up and down her own frame, Shannen is pleased with her dirty blonde hair and wide appealing face. Her full bosom, again barely constrained despite Arena SportsBra�s best efforts.

Both girls walk over the Cathy�s infamous orange bag, unzip it and look inside. Cathy takes out her favorite foreign object, a small, but incredibly dense bag of lead shot, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, and more importantly, fits right into a small sewn pocket on the inside of waist band.

Soft on her hip, yet hard on her opponent�s skull.

Shannen too grabs a small object, neatly slipping it into a nearly identical pocket sewn into the cavernous space between her large breasts. Both girls also slip a small piece of sand paper into the tape covering their wrists, something to add a little extra kick to those face rakes and eye gouges.

The knock comes to the door. �ONE MINUTE LADIES!�

Shannen turns and heads for the door, her butterflies forgotten. Cathy turns for the door, following her sister before catching up to her in the hallway and grabbing her hand. Knowing they won�t be able to be heard once out side, Cathy slows her sister down as they approach the curtain.

�Remember when we lost to the Mitchell cunts? Remember when I said, BOTTLE IT UP, when I saw the hate in your eyes? Remember?� asks Cathy, as the two approach the black cloth draped across the opening to the arena floor. �This is where we uncork it and pour it all out on these to whores. POUR IT ALL OUT,� Cathy screams as the din outside the curtain grows louder. �Don�t hold anything back!�

The two girls step out into the well lit arena. Cathy, still holding her younger sister�s hand, raises both girls arms in a victory salute as the spot light cascades down on them. The Dirty Dennehy Sisters are lit by the moving spotlight as the purposefully stride to the ring to face the night opponents. Quickly climbing the apron, both girls step between the ropes� all business�ignoring the numerous cat calls and whistles, not to mention the signs intent on either rattling them (�YOU DON�T HAVE ENOUGH MILK TO DROWN THE DANIEL SISTERS�) or supporting them (�DIRTY DENNEHYS�RIDE, COWGIRL, RIDE!�).

"Pretty Woman" by Van Halen then explodes through the speakers as multicolored spotlights and lasers circle throughout the arena. As David Lee Roth's voice sings the words 'pretty woman', a shower of sparks shoots up from the floor at the top of the ramp and the Daniel sisters appear. In their matching black pleather wrestling attire, they saunter into the arena, arms around each other's waist at first. The Imp, Chrissy is all self confidence and smiles while Missy has the look of a bouncer that's just about to throw out a rowdy customer from a seedy bar. The only change to their normal appearance is the cast Chrissy wears on her arm, gleaming white in the arena lights.

Reaching the ring, Missy walks purposefully up the stairs and slides between the ropes, but Chrissy lingers at the bottom a moment longer, turning to the crowd and putting her hand to her ear. She grins as the crowd gives a largely negative reaction, although there are Daniel supporters that are vocal as well. Flipping her hair over her shoulder playfully, Chrissy mounts the ring steps, big breasts bouncing, slides between the ropes and gives Missy a high-five. The two turn as one and flip the crowd a middle-finger salute, which Chrissy follows up with a blown kiss.

The festivities out of the way, the two talk momentarily in the corner. And then Chrissy steps through the ropes, leaving Missy in the ring, leaning against the turnbuckle, awaiting the start of the match. Across the ring, Cathy slips through the cables, leaving Shannen to answer the bell which would soon ring.

DING!

The two warriors leave their corners, circling each other, both women eying the other with a sense of caution and respect. The distance between them closing with each orbit, a mutual challenge passed between them by way of their eyes.

�You take your best shot, and I�ll take mine.�

Simultaneously throwing caution to the wind, both lunge at the other, straining and grappling to achieve dominance. Though Missy gives her all, the more physically imposing specimen of the two in Shannen soon begins to assert control, finally scooping the beach fighter off the mat and into her arms. She held her there momentarily, Missy�s legs thrashing in an effort to throw her attacker off balance.

No such luck.

With a roar, the towering blonde slams Missy down hard into the canvas, Missy�s body bouncing off the surface before coming to a rest. But her rest is short lived, as Shannen quickly reaches down and secures a handful of her fellow blonde�s hair, roughly guiding her back to her feet. Dennehy then sends her foe into the ropes, and drives a knee up into her yielding midsection as the elder Daniel rebounds at her.

The shot sends Missy into the air, flipping over Shannen�s knee and thigh before crashing back to earth, her arms wrapped around her aching belly. Shannen wastes no time in again beginning to pull her rival back to her feet.

But Missy was not quite as wounded as Shannen believed, and the beach fighter answers with a swift rake of Shannen�s eyes. With a shriek, Dennehy releases her foe, and Missy rewards her with a thunderous uppercut right between the wickets.

This time, the younger Dennehy is left speechless, unable to give voice to her anguish as she drops to her knees, her hands urgently moving to her groin. She offers no defense as Missy pulls her up, maneuvering her into a full nelson that the more diminutive blonde would have had more trouble securing if not for Shannen�s state of distress.

In her corner, Chrissy Daniel smiles as she sees Missy dragging her prey closer to the corner. Excitedly, she extends her hand for the tag, and Missy breaks the nelson just long enough to oblige her.

As Missy again clamps her hands behind Shannen�s head, Chrissy climbs to the top turnbuckle. The younger Daniel takes flight, and Missy releases the nelson just before Chrissy�s cast slams into the top of Shannen�s head. The tall blonde�s eyes cross, before she then flops lifelessly to the mat.

As Missy leaves the ring, the former FAWN champion arrogantly reclines across Shannen�s abundant chest, smiling smugly across the ring at Cathy as she counts along with the official with her fingers.

One� Two� Shannen raises a shoulder.

Chrissy was hardly surprised. She might very well have gotten the pin had she hooked Shannen�s leg, but truth be told, it was simply too early to end things. The winner of this match had an appointment with the Mitchell sisters, a team that had taken joy in defeating Chrissy in a two-on-one scenario to ever get in position to claim FAWN�s tag team titles. Before she faced them again, this time with her sister at her side, she needed to show them exactly what the Daniel sisters could do together. Looking down at Shannen, Chrissy again smirks. �Should�ve taken the easy way out, putz,� she says mischievously. �It�s only going to get worse from here.�

Rising to her feet, the Killer Imp yanks the statuesque blonde up with her, and quickly repays the scoop slam Dennehy had applied to Missy earlier with one of her own. While Chrissy�s feats of strength had become almost commonplace, many in the crowd still could not refrain from appreciating the ease with which Chrissy had performed that move.

�Your turn,� Chrissy says to her sister, making the tag and allowing Missy back into the match.

The moment she is back in the ring, Missy drops a knee down across the forehead of the battered blonde, Shannen�s body spasming on impact before lying still. �At least TRY to fight, won�t you?� Missy hissed, pulling Shannen back up and whipping her into the ropes.

She intended to drop Dennehy with an elbow to the chest, but Shannen ducks under the blow. Perhaps a little overconfident, Missy is a shade slow in turning back to the younger half of the Dirty Dennehys, and her nonchalance costs her, as Shannen nearly decapitates Missy with a diving clothesline!

In one corner, Chrissy Daniel smacks her forehead with her palm, incredulous that her older sister has so quickly squandered their advantage. Across the ring, Cathy Dennehy stomps on the apron and shouts encouragement to her sister, anxious to get into the fight for the first time.

Shannen is the first to stir, willing herself up to all fours and shaking her head, trying to get her bearings. �Come on, Shannen!� Cathy shouts. �Tag me in!�

As Shannen starts to drag herself into her corner, Chrissy turns her attention from her frustration to her partner. �Hey, jell-o brain!� the Killer Imp calls to her sister. �Get you ass over here before Cathy claims your ass.�

Missy snarls in anger, exactly as Chrissy had hoped. Spurred on by her sister�s taunts, she claws her way closer, and closer.

Across the ring, Shannen makes one final lunge, her hand slapping Cathy�s before she rolls under the bottom rope. As fast as she can, Cathy bursts through the ropes, charging toward Missy�s body. She couldn�t let�

Missy makes the tag, Chrissy springboarding over the top rope and into the ring. Cathy tries to put on the breaks, but her momentum sends her charging directly into a forearm (or rather a fore-cast) shot to the face that drops her like a shot.

Chrissy�s punches packed a wallop under normal circumstances. The plaster certainly gave them a little extra pop, and Cathy found her ears ringing from just one blow. Disorientated, she is too slow to realize Chrissy�s intent as the Killer Imp raises her to her feet, and then pulls her into her arms.

Cathy moans as Chrissy�s arms constrict around the small of her back, the plaster grating against her skin. Chrissy squeezes, surprising Cathy with her power as she lifts the slightly taller Dennehy off her feet. Immediately, Cathy wrapped her legs around Chrissy�s waist in an effort to ease some of the pressure.

Outside the ring, Shannen sees what is going on, and knows she has to help her sister. Re-entering the ring, she advances on the pair, but her next act is somewhat surprising. Leaving her feet, she delivers a dropkick squarely to the back of her own sister! Chrissy, her view blocked by Cathy�s body, is caught by surprise, and is unable to brace herself as she tumbles backward, Cathy slamming down atop her.

The referee starts to usher Shannen back to her corner, but his efforts receive an assist from a livid Missy Daniel, the shorter blonde charging Shannen and sending the two brawling into the Dennehy corner, the ref in tow, struggling in vain to separate the two.

Meanwhile, Cathy pushes herself off her foe, her modest bosom heavy as she fights to reclaim her air. Chrissy remains on the canvas, dazed but beginning to stir. Fishing inside her bottoms, Cathy extracts her �little friend�, closing her fingers around the object as Chrissy sits up.

WHAM!

Dennehy�s fist connects right between Chrissy�s eyes, turning the Killer Imp into the Killed Imp in the blink of an eye. Cathy drapes herself across Chrissy�s chest, exhausted, but also delighted with this victory.

One� Two� Three� Four� Five�

Frowning, Cathy looks up, and sees that the referee is nowhere near this pinning predicament. Instead, he�s on the other side of the ring, ushering Missy through the ropes. Out of the corner of her eye, Cathy sees her sister starting to enter the ring, but the brunette Dennehy waves her off. �Hey, zebra!� Cathy calls at the official. �You want to do your job or what?�

Turning to see the situation, the ref hurries to their side, sliding down and slapping his hand to the canvas.

One� Two� Thre�

To the astonishment of all, Cathy especially, Chrissy raises a shoulder.

Shaking her mystification off her face, Cathy sneers down at Chrissy, her gaze traveling from the Imp�s face to the cast on her arm. �What did you tell Shannen earlier about taking the easy way out?�

Pressing her left boot down onto Chrissy�s right hand, pinning her arm to the mat, Cathy drives her right boot down into the cast. The Killer Imp returns to life, releasing a scream like none ever heard from Chrissy before. Delighted with this result, Dennehy drives a second, third, and fourth stomp down onto the injured arm, Chrissy thrashing and convulsing on each blow.

But she doesn�t scream again, somehow managing to keep her agony within.

Cathy rips Chrissy off the mat by way of her abused arm, throwing her into the Dennehy corner. As Chrissy slams back first into the buckles, Shannen reaches through the ropes, slipping her fingers inside the cross strap of Chrissy�s bikini top and yanking backward. Cathy follows up with repeated lefts and rights to the Killer Imp�s midsection, Chrissy moaning and grunted with each blow.

Missy has seen enough, and starts to enter the ring. With her free arm, Shannen points this out to the official, and he moves to intercept her. Shannen simply smiled, taking the tag cord with her free hand and looping it around Chrissy�s throat.

Refs were so predictable.

Chrissy�s eyes bulge, her legs thrashing and kicking the tag rope cuts into her windpipe, her breasts being crushed to her chest by her own bikini top. Ending her barrage of jabs to the gut, Cathy Dennehy stands back, raises her hands above her head, and makes a loud clap.

Nodding, Shannen releases her dual grip on Chrissy and enters the ring. As the referee finally gets the other Daniel out of the ring, Cathy slips through the ropes and heads to her corner, while Shannen scoops a gasping Chrissy into the air, holding her in position for a powerslam�

� and holding Chrissy�s injured right arm against her back.

Dropping to the canvas, Shannen slams her down onto her wounded arm, adding to the impact with her own weight slamming down onto Chrissy. Satisfied, Shannen rises to her knees, her hands on her hips as Chrissy writhes on the mat, clutching her arm close to her body.

It was time.

Pulling the foreign FAWN champion to her feet by her aching arm, Shannen backs her into a neutral corner, before then whipping her across the ring. Shannen follows right on her heels, and just as soon as the Imp�s back slammed into the corner, Shannen�s body slammed into her chest, forming a Chrissy Sandwich.

Shannen keeps Chrissy pinned in the corner, but leans back just enough to allow her to remove her sports bra. The crowd roared. When it came to the prospect of FAWN�s trademark elements of sexuality, any practitioner was a fan favorite.

Once free, Shannen presses her cavernous cleavage (indeed, she and Chrissy possibly possessed the two biggest bosoms on the FAWN roster) into Chrissy�s face. And even through the pain the wracked her body and the lightheadedness that only grew as Shannen�s breasts cut off her air supply, the irony was not lost on Chrissy. She was about to lose, and lose to the very move that she herself had used to put down so many others.

Not if Missy could help it.

Rushing out of her corner, Missy this time doesn�t enter the ring. Instead, she charges along the apron, extending her arm over the top rope, and nailing Shannen with a clothesline from behind. Blindsided, Dennehy is unable to brace herself or counter. And while the move momentarily pushes Dennehy further into Missy�s sister, it ultimately achieves the elder Daniel�s goal, as Shannen staggers a couple of steps out of the corner, and then falls back.

Chrissy�s eyes roll back in her head, the Milk Run clearly having been close to achieving its mission. Too drained to remain upright, Chrissy too falls out of the corner; face first, her forehead driving down between Shannen�s slightly parted legs.

With a howl of agony, Shannen sits up off the canvas, and then rolls to her side before thrusting her hands between her clenched legs.

Returning to her corner, Missy encourages, begs, and pleads with her sister to make the tag. Across the ring, Cathy does likewise. For a long moment, neither seems able to head the call. And then movement�

Ignoring the pain in her groin, Shannen drags herself across the canvas, toward her corner. �Come on, Chrissy!� Missy screams in a mixture of frustration, helplessness and a little anger. �You�re supposed to be the Big Bad. Now show everyone how tough you are and move your fat ass, you, you� PUTZ!�

The effect was almost magical.

With a determined groan, Chrissy willed herself to move, clawing and scratching her way along the ropes. A few feet away, Shannen still has the lead in this race, and her head start proves crucial. The first to her corner, Shannen slaps Cathy�s hand.

With one final act of willpower, Chrissy propels herself off the mat, making the tag to her sister. Missy shoots through the ropes, charging at Cathy.

There is no strategy, no planning. Instead, the two simply unload on each other, firing punch after punch with everything they have left. Neither gives any ground, at first. But soon, Missy�s edge in power begins to make the difference. Cathy�s punches begin to soften in power and slow in frequency, Missy landing two for every one of Cathy�s.

Then three to every one, driving Cathy back into the ropes. With an Irish whip, Missy sends the brunette for a ride, ducking to deliver a backdrop.

Ducking too soon.

Planting her hands on Missy�s back, Cathy leapfrogs her foe, picking up speed as she charges into the opposite ropes�

� and smack into a shot from Chrissy�s cast.

Cathy drops to her knees, and then the rest of the way, landing face down and motionless. Missy exchanges glances with her sister, an unspoken acknowledgement passing between them. Missy reaches down, and pulls a barely responsive Cathy to her feet. Then, tagging her sister, she sends Cathy into a neutral corner, Cathy�s arms flopping over the top rope on impact.

Making sure to grab Chrissy by her left arm, Missy then whips her sister in behind Cathy, the Killer Imp nailing Cathy Dennehy with a corner splash that extinguishes whatever life is left within her.

For a lingering moment, Chrissy Daniel presses her body into Cathy�s, leaning close to whisper in her ear. �You had your shot at the Mitchell brats,� Chrissy hisses. �My dumbo sis screwed me out of mine.� With difficulty, but ignoring the pain in her right arm as much as she can, Chrissy hoists Cathy to a perch on the top turnbuckle.

�Neither this cast nor you are going to screw me this time.�

They might not, but Chrissy didn�t include Shannen in her litany. And the blonde Dennehy takes matters into her own hands. Rushing into the ring, she charges at Chrissy, firing a hard kidney punch at the Killer Imp.

Chrissy moans, staggering into the ropes, and offering Shannen an opportunity too good to pass up. She can see Missy leaving her corner, but even still, she hooks Chrissy�s right arm over the top rope and yanks with all her might.

Missy drives a shoulder into Shannen�s side, ending them tumbling to the mat, rolling across the canvas. But, for the Dennehys, Shannen�s sacrifice appears worth it. Chrissy slumps to her knees, then slumps to the mat, cradling her injured arm to her chest, her backside elevated invitingly as Cathy wearily moves off her perch.

Across the ring, Missy and Shannen roll under the bottom rope, crashing to the concrete floor below still locked in combat, the referee standing at the ropes still engaged in a futile effort to restore order.

Stalking Chrissy, Cathy drops to her knees behind her, and shoots her hand up between the Killer Imp�s parted thighs, digging in her trademark Cat�s Claw to Chrissy�s womanhood.

Chrissy at first is stunned into silence by the mind-numbing waves of agony the shoot from her groin through to the rest of her body. But soon that gives way to moaning, and as Cathy works her finisher a little more, something no one could ever remember hearing from the lips of Chrissy Daniel:

Whimpering.

Chrissy was one of the toughest women to ever set foot in a wrestling ring, but even she had her limits. And between the pain of her broken arm and her mauled crotch, her body was threatening to shut down. She knew she couldn�t last much longer.

�It�s two simple words, Chris,� Cathy taunts with an agonizing flick of her wrist. �I give. We all know you know how to say them.�

A snarl of rage cutting throw her moans of anguish, Chrissy fires a kick backward that lands flush with Cathy�s chin, and dislodges her Cat�s Claw. Free at last, but in too much pain to capitalize, Chrissy massages the pain from her groin with her right arm. Still, she keeps her eyes open, scanning the ring for any opening.

Cathy reaches a hand to her face, wiping away a trickle of blood from her lip. Looking at the red smear on the back of her hand, Cathy fumes as she turns her attention to Chrissy, the Killer Imp sprawled, face down, her left hand clutching under the bottom rope. �That�s it,� Cathy roared. �We�re ending this, bitch!� Advancing on Chrissy, she pulls the Killer Imp up by her hair, turning Chrissy to face her. �When I�m done with you, you�ll nev��

Cathy never finished her sentence.

As Chrissy turns, she fires a punch with her left hand. Ordinarily, that was her weaker hand. Still, Cathy Dennehy dropped to the mat, out cold.

Chrissy smirks triumphantly, opening her left hand� and allowing the bag of lead shot to fall to the canvas. Kicking the bag out of the ring, Chrissy pulls the unconscious Cathy away from the ropes. �I told you,� the Killer Imp cooed, �no one�s screwing me out of this shot.�

Chrissy drops her cast down onto Cathy�s forehead, Dennehy�s limbs jerking off the mat one final time before falling still.

Chrissy covers her foe, hooking her leg.

One� Two� Three� Four�

Looking up, she finds the ref at the ropes, still trying to order the other two women apart. �DAMN IT, REF!!!� the Killer Imp bellows.

Spinning on his heel, the ref sees what�s going on, and quickly moves to administer the count.

One� Two�

Chrissy tightens her hold on Cathy�s leg a little more, for good measure.

Three!

Exhausted and beaten herself, Chrissy rolls over, her body melting into Cathy Dennehy�s as her back reclines against the brunette�s chest. It had been one hell of a battle, as anyone who knew anything about FAWN had anticipated going in. Both teams had taken the other to the limit, and both had come close to winning on several occasions. Tonight, the Daniel sisters had proven to be victorious.

Tonight.

But no one was foolish enough to believe that this war was over.