Quack Attack: Return of D5

Hello, this is Penman. This is my very first fic about the Ducks, even though I have written other stories and no doubt critiqued yours. This is the Ducks after D2. They are all mostly 14, except a few that are 13. They are playing 14 and under hockey. It may be AU because at the end there is a choice I need to make. The sequel, Eden Hall Again, will come out after. Bleah. I stink at this.

Please read!

Chapter One: Locker Room Trio

Jesse POV:

"Hey, Charlie." I rang out into the then-empty locker room. "Ready to kick some Hawk butt?" He nodded, smiling, focused. Always the captain, man. He needed to loosen up.

I put on my Hendrix gear, quietly as Charlie, fully dressed except his skates, stared at the wall of the locker room. "Hey man, do you think there's a rink in their or what?"

He laughed and shook it off. We'd make the Ducks this year. Obviously, being on Team USA. But it never really hurt to hone our skills, get in a little early before tryouts.

Adam must've though the same, because in the came in his street clothes, walking in the second I pulled my hockey pants on. He had his game face on; he wouldn't talk to unless he wanted to. Charlie finished taping his ankle, and he turned toward me.

"So, how are we?" It meant, how many Ducks that didn't make Team USA were going to play? That was my unspoken but agreed job. I filled him in.

"Terry's into AAU basketball and Tommy Duncan said he'd play but not his sister. Peter and Dave Karp agreed to come, though I doubt they're in shape." I paused. "In short, we're good."

"As long as you control your anger" joked the fully-dressed Banks, strapping on his helmet. I know this sounds odd, but what I wondered was: How does he get dressed so fast?

"Why you, cake-eater, couldn't fight a fly!" I charged him, and we tussled around awhile, al 3 of us laughing. When we were all ready and quiet, Charlie spoke.

"Hey guys. Do you think we can handle this level? We are the oldest now." He asked in his makes-sense, "I'm the captain" sort of way.

"Depends on who the coach is." Typical Adam. We were kind of a trio now, after hanging out at the Olympic Games. (When Adam finally took his eyes off Julie) Guy said he was in on it, but he isn't getting up at 6:00 to get to the rink at 7:30 when it doesn't start even until 10:00.

Maybe to go to Connie's house. But hockey? No way. "Well, the coach is definitely not my dad." I said, in case they thought Bombay would give it over to him again. He hated hockey. Basketball too.

He hated every kind of sport as long as Terry and I only got B's. He'd preach to us like, two hours a night. "You kids need an education to get a job. And not a scholarship, that's charity. And when you play sports you get involved with violence, and..." My mom, however, saved us. She was kind enough to realize our dreams.

"Yeah, figured as much." He must have seen me not control my rage. Why'd he have to say that about my family? Who'd he think he was? "I mean, your dad does work a lot." Wow. Charlie knew what I felt. He was nice. And that's why he'd always be our captain, though Adam, Guy, and I would love a shot at it.

We were top of the league, here. 14 in 14U meant no one was older than us, unless by weeks or months. And the top of middle school, thank god. If Mr. Arbottle asks me to name one more element...

"Didn't Karp... s'cuse me, Dave, really lose a lot of weight?" Adam piped up from his spot against the door; propped up, chin on his stick.

"Yeah, says he's a goalie. Went to hockey camp, and worked it off. Goldberg still has competition." I replied.

"Julie should have started." Banks remarked, out of the blue,

"Tch-yea! Don't we know it!" Charlie said, shrugging and leading us to the door. "Come on guys, let's go. No one can beat us, no matter who the goalies are."

"Yeah right." Came a voice from the door.