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The Friction arena let up with an unfamiliar tune - at least, unfamiliar to people who only watched Friction. The Tension fans could recognize the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CRfM8t6uvQw:2us89d6k]music[/url:2us89d6k] well - it belonged to Carmen Rodriguez, Tension newbie and resident boxer-turning-wrestling.

There were some applause, some boos, but more confused muttering than anything - Carmen wasn't scheduled for a match, and the last time she was in Friction, things got...sticky with Kurohime. So she didn't have the best pedigree for dealing out quality Friction matches, at least not anything like she was building up. Truth be told, she had planned to stay the hell away from Friction and just stick with Tension matches - they tended to be a bit more enthralling for her as far as challenges went; a lot of the guys were serious threats.

Tonight was going to be an exception to the rule, though. Tonight she had an old score to settle.

She moved into the ring, dressed in her street clothes - a pair of dark, ragged jeans and sandals, along with a pure white t-shirt, nothing too fancy, but workable if she had to fight...a distinct possibility. She caught a microphone from the outside, then tapped it a few times to make sure it was on, getting a little feedback. "Sorry, not used to stuff like this. Not used to doing promos, either, soooooo...fair warning, this might suck, but I'll say what I got to say and be out of your hair."

She made her way to the middle of the ring, thinking on the best way to approach this - a little background was needed.

"Okay, story time." She wiped her nose and leaned against the ropes. "A long time ago in a faraway land called Puerto Rico, there was this little girl. She wasn't good at lot of things, she didn't like to do much...but she could fight. She could fight really, really well. And she started doing that full-time. And she started winning fights. She won a lot. She even got to fight the champion - another girl who was really good at fighting. And they fought." She shook her head, chuckled, sighed. "Oh, they fought."

That match. That match. She'd never forget it - going up against the Champ, leaving everything on the floor. Blood. Sweet. Round after round, pound after pound. One of the best..no, the best night of her life. Sex included.

"They fought and they fought and they fought until the judges wouldn't let them fight anymore - a split decision. The champ stayed the champ. She got lucky. The girl from Puerto Rico didn't. Simple as that." She wagged her finger, turning around to the whole audience. "Things changed. The girl moved on. She came here. Joined Tension. And guess who she found was on the Friction side?"

She pointed to the screen as the picture of a statuesque stunner of a woman came up.

[url=http://smg.photobucket.com/user/acuyra/media/loreza_zps91778f89.jpg.html:2us89d6k][/url:2us89d6k]

"Get out here, Saldano. La Tigresa de Tijuana*, la Conquistadora**. la chica con demasiados nombres***..." She rolled her eyes and focused on the entrance. "We've got business to finish, you and me."

[size=50:2us89d6k]*The Tijuana Tigress
**The Conquistador
***The Chick WIth Too Many Names

Lorenza remembered that match. Of course she did—how could she forget it? Sixteen fights had led up to it. They were all different—some were easy victories, some were real challenges, some were short, some were long. But each and every one of them had ended in a knockout victory for Lorenza Saldano of Mexico, the unbeatable champion of the sport (at least as far as the Global Boxing Union and the International Boxing Alliance were concerned).

That last fight, her match with Carmen Rodriguez of Puerto Rico, had been different. She had felt it from the very beginning. Her usual edge was gone when she faced Carmen. The Puerto Rican boxer had been her equal in every way, and the two had matched each other punch for punch, knockdown for knockdown for ten long rounds. The blood of both women was splattered all across the ring, and not in small amounts, but veritable puddles. Lorenza couldnâ€t see straight for a week afterwards. It was a month before she could say that all the soreness in her body was gone, and even then a few phantom aches and pangs would come and go. That fight had been the toughest fight of her life, with an opponent who was undoubtedly her equal in every way, and who deserved that victory just as much as Lorenza did.

But Lorenza had won.

It had been decided by the narrowest of margins, but it had been decided. Lorenza Saldano defeated Carmen Rodriguez that night. That was what the judges said, and the decision had been accepted by almost everyone, fans and analysts and fellow boxers alike.

The only one who seemed to truly doubt the judgeâ€s conclusion was Lorenza herself. Of course, she never said this publicly…but she didnâ€t feel as if she had won that match. At best—at absolute best—she would have called it a draw. But not a victory. Every victory before that one had been by knockout, whether it was in the first round or the ninth. But she hadnâ€t knocked out Carmen Rodriguez. She had knocked Carmen down, sure, but so had Carmen knocked her down. They knocked each other down over and over again. Two fighters, perfectly matched, with neither truly earning the victory over the other. It had been an almost religious experience, and Lorenza had enjoyed the fight. But once that final bell rang, what had seemed so wonderful had begun to gnaw at her innards.

These were all the things that Lorenza felt deep down, but could never say in public. In public, she was cold and confident, as she always had been. In public, she betrayed not a hint of doubt. She, Lorenza Saldano, had won that match. Case closed.

It did not take long for Lorenza to answer Carmenâ€s call. She entered the arena to a low, rumbling number performed by a band from her hometown of Tijuana. She hadnâ€t chosen the song—some sound technician upstairs had—but the music didnâ€t really matter to her. She had not come to AFW to make an impression here. She had come to AFW for herself.

She climbed into the ring, finding a microphone had been shoved into her hand on her way up. How convenient. “Hola, Carmen. Itâ€s been a little while,” she said. Then she glanced out to the audience. “The fight between the two girls was close. It was very close. There was blood, and sweat, and spit flying everywhere with every blow. The sound of leather hitting skin…again and again and again and again.” She turned her cool gaze back to Carmen. “But the champ stayed the champ. She retired with seventeen wins and zero losses. The other girl did not.”

Lorenza advanced a step towards Carmen. They had only ever met once before, for their epic championship match. They had never spoken to each other before or since. And yet, the familiarity which Lorenza felt was incredible. “That last nickname…I want to hear you say it. I am la Tigresa de Tijuana, I am la Conquistadora, and I am… la Única e Incomparable. The One and Only.”

It had been how long since they last fought? Two years, give or take a few months. A long time, and Carmen had done a lot, had plenty of fights, even won the Silver. You might think that would dampen the experience, make Lorenza less familiar in Carmen's mind.

Wrong. Dead wrong.

There hadn't been a single month and very few weeks were she didn't watch that fight from start to end. Noting every movement Lorenza made. Every twitch. Every step. She could probably mimic the entire fight from memory if she had to. She ran it in her head, over and over again, relived it night after night. It wasn't an obsession - she thought about other things, sure. Other fights. But that one was always in the back of her mind, stewing.

So when she saw Lorenza again, it was almost like no time had passed at all - Lorenza was as familiar to Carmen as the left hand she'd nearly broken in the ninth round of their fight. "You're right - the other girl didn't retire. She stayed in the ring and kept fighting, kept rising, kept improving. Her story kept going, but the Champ? Nothing but blank pages."

She walked towards Lorenza and lowered her mic as she got close, so close that her voice carried over to Lorenza's. "You want to talk names? Why should I call you that?" She glanced down, looking her over from head to toe - Lorenza was a sleek as ever. Physically. But she knew that didn't always tell the tale. "You look like the woman I fought before - but she retired. She dropped off the Earth. When was the last time you stepped in a real ring, put on the gloves?" Her head leaned to the side, like a wolf sniffing at his meat, ready to dig in at any moment. "How do I know the tigress still has claws?"

Lorenza stood rigid, like a stone statue, as Carmen replied to her. The Puerto Rican girlâ€s response to Lorenzaâ€s taunt was to taunt Lorenza right back, and what Carmen said certainly had an effect on her. Lorenza had retired. Lorenza had walked away from the game. It had killed her to do it, and it was still eating her up inside, every day of every week. But what else would she have been fighting for had she stayed? She could have kept winning, and it would have made no difference. Or she could have finally lost a match as age and wear and tear caught up to her, and she would have lost her titles and her perfect record. The match with Carmen had shown her how vulnerable she really was.

“Youâ€re right. The champ retired, and the other girl kept fighting and kept improving,” Lorenza said, leaning in a little closer, her eyes locking onto Carmenâ€s. “But they are both in the exact same place right now. The champ retired a champion. The other girl never won a belt. A longer story does not make for a better one.”

Lorenza put a hand on her hip. “I am the One and Only. I always will be. You had your chance to join me on this highest pedestal, but you didnâ€t quite measure up.” She broke eye contact, her gaze carrying over Carmenâ€s body. The woman was still in the same shape as when they had first fought. She undoubtedly could still pack a punch. “You know the Tigress is as deadly as ever—you wouldnâ€t have called me out if there was any doubt. If you donâ€t remember just how deadly I can be, I would be happy to refresh your memory.”

Carmen stared Lorenza hard in the eye - they were virtually the same height, same size. Carmen was only one inch taller, and barely that, and the comparison was crystal clear when they were so close.

So close - always so close. So close to the belt. So close to the gold medal. Life had this annoying way of dangling greatness in her face and pulling away at the last moment, and every second Lorenza stood there, every moment she had that implacable look, every haughty little word she spoke was a harsh reminder.

"Maybe I was just curious to see where your head is at - haven't caught any of your fights here, yet." She folded her arms and edged even closer, taking another step, daring to get in range of Saldano's deadly hooks. "I don't know anything. Two years is a lifetime out of the ring. You're body looks right, but that only gets you so far, hermana." There was some respect in that name that she let slip out - she meant it as a taunt, but it didn't come out that way. In a few ways, Lorenza felt as close as a sister - a sister she wanted to beat into the ground, but a sister nonetheless.

"Are you sure you're ready for a real fight? Gloves, a ref, a ring. It's been a while - maybe something a little lighter is your style, now. Bed match, maybe? Whipped cream? Sauna?" She rubbed her chin. "Why are you here, Saldano? Why isn't the Tijuana Tigress in, you know...Tijuana?"

“I havenâ€t had many fights here, yet,” Lorenza replied, shrugging her shoulders. No sense in saying anything else. It was true. It still didnâ€t make a difference. When Carmen took a step closer, Lorenza would do the same. The two were hardly a foot apart, each within easy reach of the other. “And I wonâ€t stand here and say to you—say to everyone—that two years is not a long time. But it makes no difference. I am the same unbeatable Lorenza Saldano I was then, and, if you want a match, then I will happily prove all of this to you…hermanita.”

Calling Carmen her little sister superficially seemed like an insult. But there was a very subtle undercurrent of something which could almost be called affection. Lorenza was actually having a good time right now, in a strange sort of way. She was excited to confront Carmen again. Her blood coursed through her veins quickly as they verbally sparred. It wasnâ€t happiness, but it was something, and it seemed as if she rarely felt anything nowadays.

Hearing Carmenâ€s mocking, Lorenza would allow herself to smirk a little. “Now, didnâ€t I just see you fucking another girl on national television?” she asked. If Carmen was going to tease her about that sort of thing, then it was fair game for Lorenza, too. “That wonâ€t keep you in very good boxing shape.”

When Carmen asked her why she was here, Lorenza paused for a second to think. “Tijuana is shit. I donâ€t live there anymore. I live in Texas, in America. Tijuana is brutal—I wouldnâ€t fight like I do if I didnâ€t have to fight for my life in Tijuana—and it is shit. Why am I here? Iâ€m here to fight. No other answer.” She crossed her arms. “Y tú, Rodríguez? Porque estás aquí?” she asked in Spanish. The mention of Tijuana had got her thinking about her early years in Mexico, and that meant speaking in Spanish, at least for a sentence.

...okay, she didn't have anything good to come back at Lorenza with about her little garage match with Kurohime, and her face flushed for a moment to show it. Everyone had their bad moments...hers just so happened to be on TV. She did sort of walk right into it. [size=50:2yqutsjn]"All right, I'll give you that one." She muttered, too low for the mic. [size=50:2yqutsjn]"...puta."

She rolled her shoulder and moved in even closer, going forehead to forehead, touching like they were at the weigh in, so close that she could probably make a few educated guesses on what Lorenza had for dinner last night. Somewhere in the distance, some smartasses were chanting for them to kiss - they could keep dreaming. Lorenza was a fine woman, there was no denying that, but Carmen's only interest in this body was in breaking it to pieces. Blow by blow, bit by bit.

"Yeah - I played a little, can't lie." She pressed in even harder. "But I'm in Tension to fight the toughest this island has to offer. John Mitchell. Higurashi. Even Clyde Gastin. I'm ready for all of them. My skill took me through the Olympic ranks - I'm a surgeon, Saldano, and it's long past time you had a real operation. You could just squeak by with a split decision two years ago, and the fact of the matter, the inescapable truth, is that I'm better now." She reached up and poked her 'big sister' in the shoulder.

Carmen cracked her neck, a few beads of sweat running down her brow. She could hear her own heart beating out of her chest as her blood boiled. Breathless bravado was typically her brother's bag - she was the cool one, the collected Rodriguez. Just not tonight, never with her.

"Let's see if the tigress can still scratch - not here. Not in Friction. The Boxing Federation. Dust off your old gloves and we'll have ourselves a straight match. No kinky boxing, no skimpy outfits. Just lots of blood and pain and pounding. That's what I'm here for, Saldano. Give it to me."

Lorenza smirked when Carmen beat a hasty retreat upon being reminded of that match. The Mexican boxer would drop her mic and reply, in the same hushed tone as Carmen: [size=75:243zqejs]“I didnâ€t want to bring that up, you know, but if youâ€re going to talk to me like Iâ€m a little kawaii sex wrestler, then Iâ€m going to remind all these people who the real piruja in this ring is.”

Lorenza didnâ€t flinch as Carmen moved in closer, and would herself take a step closer to the Puerto Rican woman, leaning her face forward and pushing her forehead against Carmenâ€s. She heard the not-insignificant number of audience members begin to chant for them to kiss. They wouldnâ€t get their wish. As attractive as Carmen was, Lorenza had no interest in her sexually. The sort of familiarity that they shared was not the sort of familiarity shared by two lovers, and it never would be. “I know what youâ€ve been doing. I know youâ€re still in shape. I can look down and see that right now, hermanita. But beating up those Tension jobbers, even if it is good exercise, isnâ€t boxing. You could have run marathons and still been in great shape. Or go swimming, you know. But the truth is, when it comes to boxing, you have been out of the game for almost as long as I have. You could be the world champion of wrestling, you know, and it still doesnâ€t mean shit in the boxing world, claro? The skills are not the same.”

She pressed forward a little harder with her forehead, matching Carmen as the Puerto Rican pushed. The thin sheen of sweat condensing on her brow made it feel as if she and Carmen were stuck together by the tops of their heads. Lorenza was silent as she listened to Carmenâ€s challenge in full. She waited a few seconds. She smirked again, feeling a little light-headed with anticipation. Then, she would reply: “Thatâ€s what Iâ€m here for, too, Rodriguez. I wouldnâ€t have walked out here into this ring tonight if I thought you would offer anything less than that. I want blood. I want sweat. I want to show you why I retired as the champ and you never quite got there.”

[size=70:3hnd6md5]"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Seriously, did anyone not watch that match? She didn't even think it was that big of a deal at the time - the AFW fielded far, far raunchier things all the time; it was downright vanilla compared to some of hentai matches. But no - apparently it was pretty widespread, so much so that even Lorenza had caught it, and Carmen never pictured her as being big on TV. She could see it now - they would live to be a 100, and she would still be giving her shit about that bloody little fuck in the garage.

Let it go, Carmen. Just...let it go.

Carmen enjoyed a smirk of her own as Lorenza started talking about Carmen's time in Tension - and only Tension. "Ah. Guess you don't watch the Olympics, then? Heh, nobody does anymore." She shook her head, moving Lorenza's skull along with her own. "I was there, too." She glanced down to her shoulder, where a tattoo of the rings had been etched on after she picked up the silver - loud and proud, right on her skin. "Lot different from what you're used to - skill, finesse, style, that's what you need there. Point system. Teaches you think. Learned a lot from it, too, but don't worry, gatito - I'll share it all. All my new skills. I'm going to run a masterclass on your fucking face."

She stepped back, giving some space as Lorenza accepted her challenge - it was never in question that she would. For someone like her - Lorenza the proud, the boastful, the arrogant - letting such a hollow victory go was unacceptable. She won against Carmen...but she never beat her. Winning against someone and beating them could be two vastly different things, and Carmen knew that. Which meant Lorenza knew it, too.

When Carmen made the challenge, Lorenza taking it was inevitable. If she had been the sort of woman to turn down the offer, Carmen wouldn't have wanted to fight her in the first place.

"It's done, then." She held out her hand, looking for a hand shake. "You. Me. One last time. No doubts. You win, and I'll call you that little name you like so much in front of the whole world."

“Oh, I know all about the Olympics,” Lorenza said. “I watched them. Including the boxing. Especially the boxing. I even cheered for you.” That was the truth. Carmen was the only fighter in the event whom Lorenza had ever boxed, so it only made sense to root for her—the further she went, the better it made Lorenza look for beating her a few months earlier. “But donâ€t talk about them like they were last week. Those Games were still two years ago, Rodriguez. So you boxed again a couple of months after our match…big fucking deal. It will make no difference for you when we box again.”

Lorenza would stand still as Carmen took a step back, separating their foreheads. The Mexican boxer put her hands on her hips. She had been waiting for this challenge ever since she had heard that Carmen had joined AFW. Now, finally, the Puerto Rican had issued it. And Lorenza had accepted it without hesitation. Two years on from what some magazines had called the “Greatest Womenâ€s Boxing Bout in History,” the two of them were going to lace up their gloves, pull on their trunks, and do it all over again.

Lorenza would promptly accept Carmenâ€s handshake, grabbing the other womanâ€s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Itâ€s done,” she agreed with a nod. “It will be an honor beating you again. This time, it will be by knockout.”