Editing Catfight Lesbians (section)

==Chapter 3==

"I don't like it," Butch Cassie fumed, as Eight sidestepped again to keep herself between the two titanic females. "We got paid to spring 'em, not to babysit 'em!"

Things had been going downhill since they got back to the garage. Every cop in town was looking for them, and it was only a matter of time before someone who knew the racers connected the Charger to the scene. Eight had barely gotten past the introductions when the squabbling erupted, and help wouldn't be here until the next morning.

"You wanna say that without your girlfriend in the way, fat-ass?" Squeeze taunted. "Or should I get rough with her again? She might like that. I know I did."

"You bitch!" Cassie shrieked, lunging at the bigger woman despite Eight's attempt to keep them separated. "I'll kill you!" Squeeze took the charge easily, flinging Butch Cassie to the side as Eight stumbled to her knees and recovered.

"Come on!" Squeeze shouted, spreading her arms outward. "You want me, I'm right here!" Butch Cassie roared and launched herself forward, plowing into the bigger woman's stomach and forcing her backward into a row of metal drawers. As they rebounded the drawer crashed to the floor and spilled open, sending bits of metal pinging all over the garage floor. Cassie made a choking sound as Squeeze pinned her on her back and wrapped a thick hand around her windpipe.

"Hey!" Eight shouted at Razor. "Make her stop!"

Razor threw an indifferent glance at the other woman. "You make her stop. This is how things get settled on the island."

"This isn't the island," Eight hissed, drawing herself up to her full height, her lean voluptuous body mere inches from the savagely beautiful convict's. As she leaned forward she grasped Razor's wrist tightly. "You won't last a minute around here without our help," Eight whispered, parting her lips just before they grazed the other woman's ear. "This city will eat you alive," she breathed.

Razor shook her wrist free and stepped back, bumping against a counter and glowering at Eight. "Squeeze!" she barked angrily. "Knock it off!" The big woman looked up and opened her mouth to say something, but Razor cut her off before she could start. "I said knock it off! Go take a walk and cool down." Squeeze shot one more death-glare at Butch Cassie before letting her up. Cassie gasped and pushed herself up, fists clenching and unclenching.

The side door banged as Squeeze slammed it behind her, leaving the six others in the cool silence of the fluorescent lights.

"So," Eight said, breaking the ice. "How about I get us some beers and we swap stories?"

"..and then I say, 'You want it so bad, go fish,' and I toss it in the water!"

Razor grinned as Eight choked on a mouthful of beer while the rest of the garage erupted into laughter. As she took another swig her gaze passed over everyone in the room and settled on the quiet girl in a pair of coveralls perched on the hood of Butch Cassie's '52 Coronet. "Hey, how come you never say anything?" Razor asked, taking another swallow. "You're not even laughing."

"Leave her alone, Raze," Eight said, pitching her bottle into the trash can. "Zipper's just quiet."

"She's smart enough not to talk," Butch Cassie said, finishing off her own bottle, several beers farther along than the others. "She's a genius-" Cassie paused to down half her next beer in one go. "Pure genius. 'Scuse me, I gotta hit the lil' girl's room," she said, squeezing between Bail-Out's plastic green lawn chair and the stripped Monte Carlo behind it.

"Should we-?" Razor asked as she watched Cassie stumble out of the bathroom and veer off into the dark with a crash. Eight raised a hand and waved her off. "Nah, she'll go pass out on the couch. It's fine. And speaking of which..." Eight nodded at Nails, who was curled up in her own chair, fast asleep.

"Lightweight," Razor confided with a grin. "Two beers and she's out." She yawned and finished off the rest of her own bottle. "I think I could take a nap. Been up for two days."

Eight spread her long legs out in front of her, pressing the heels of her boots into the concrete floor and stretched. "Bailey, you ready to hit the sack?"

"What about them?" Bailey whispered as Eight led her by the hand to their loft above the garage.

"Don't worry, babe. They've got no place to go - this is their only safe spot, and she knows it."

Zipper jumped and turned around as the side door of the garage clanged shut, suddenly finding her trapped between Squeeze and the worktable.

"So tell me," Squeeze asked, leaning in, one massive arm on each side of the mechanic's lithe body. "Why do they call you Zipper?"

The girl smiled and raised one hand to her chest, drawing her fingers downward and parting the zipper that ran down the middle of her coveralls.