Adam's hair is golden in the watery, yellow sun of mid-January. The air is a fresh and brisk, turning Adam's cheeks a healthy, flushed red. His hat is askew and it looks like the poor thing will fall off any second as Adam glides effortlessly across the frozen pond.

Charlie watches from the bank, admiring Adam's skating, his thin waist and broad shoulders. He had always admired Adam – his talent, his looks. Simple things. He's not here to be frivolous though, or to skate. He's dressed in a suit, the one he'd worn to work, and the briefcase in his hands is far too valuable to leave lying around on the bank in the snow, even if he did have his skates with him.

Adam finally notices him and stops, making snow fly out from under his skates. "Charlie." He smiles brightly and skates toward him in a wide, graceful arch. Grace had always been natural for Adam. Charlie takes a breath, trying hard to not stare too much, to not trace the lines of Adam's face with his eyes, to not give himself away. He's half-sure that Adam knows about his crush – Charlie's a horrible liar – but he still wants to at least pretend that he has enough pride to not pine for years after someone who's too busy to even give him a chance. Besides, what would a big NHL player want with a small-firm lawyer based in Minneapolis?

That last is a bitter thought, so Charlie pushes it aside and holds up a file folder. "I've got news for you. I was gonna have Rachel call you in but decided to just go find you myself." Charlie likes being alone with Adam – it reminds him of high school when they'd go off exploring together. Charlie would take Adam to the sort of clubs and hang outs where Adam would never have thought to go on his own, probably didn't even know they existed. Adam took it all in stride, although certain sights still made him cringe and terrified his upper-class sensitivities. Despite that, he was a good sport about it and let Charlie introduce him to the real world, step by step.

Adam comes off the ice and collapses on the wooden bench on the bank. He looks up at Charlie a little sheepishly, swiping sweat-soaked strands of hair from his face. "You didn't have to do that; I would have come in."

Charlie shrugs and sits down beside him. "Either way, I've been looking at your case. I've done some cases with breached contracts, but it's usually more about sale of goods and such. I'm rather convinced hockey players don't fall under the U.C.C."

Adam laughs slightly. "Right. So…is it hopeless?"

"No. But I think it will depend on what you discussed during the signing. It's not an at-will job, so technically, they can't just let you go whenever. A contract binds both sides. The terms are vague, though. That's what I don't understand, how did your lawyer let you sign this? I mean, it's good for us now, because they may let us bring in extra evidence with parol evidence—"

"With what?"

"…uh, doesn't matter. Point being, they might let us clarify some of that ambiguous language using your oral negotiations. But still, I'm surprised."

Adam makes a hapless sort of gesture and looks down sheepishly, swinging his legs like a bashful schoolboy. "I don't know. My agent wasn't there. I just…it seemed like a good deal – a good team, good pay. I didn't see a reason not to sign."

"We'll get you out, I promise," Charlie promises suddenly, without even thinking about it. He really wants to help; he'd always wanted to help Adam, to protect him. A shadow falls over Adam's face and it takes Charlie a few moments to realize that a cloud has blocked the sun. Small snowflakes begin to fall, wet and pathetic. Adam's hat soon becomes speckled white.

"Thanks for doing this," Adam says. He begins to unlace his skates and Charlie feels a strange tightness in his chest. They'd drifted lately, both busy with their respective careers. Charlie had never meant for it to be like this, but Adam was a strange anomaly that went like a whirlwind through his life without ever stopping and staying for long enough. Transient, like one of those rare spring days, which are fresher and cooler than summer but smell like the middle of July.

"Don't mention it. We're friends…" Charlie fidgets, unsure of what to say. Then, before he can stop himself, asks, "Why did you choose me, Adam? Out of all the lawyers…"

Adam looks up and gives him a very steady look. "I've missed you. Sometimes, during a game, I find myself watching the stands, searching for you. I know you don't have the time to fly out to see me play and I've never invited you, specifically… I don't know what happened, Charlie."

"Life happened." Charlie doesn't know what else to say. His throat is tight and it is hard to breath. He imagines Adam during a pre-game warm up, looking around for him, waiting for him. He thinks of his own nights in front of the TV, watching Adam play while pretending to himself that he is actually working or that he just likes the hockey and Adam just happens to be playing that night. He has had, multiple times, thought of flying out to see Adam play, of surprising his friend, maybe even bringing flowers or something else equally corny and potentially inappropriate. But he never fulfilled any of those wishes. Every time he thought about it, embarrassment and a fear of rejection would make him change his mind. And here Adam says he had wanted just that all along.

They had never done well when it came to communication.

"I would have come if you asked. I watch you play often. On TV and all."

Adam flushes just slightly. "I sometimes think of your pep talks from back in high school. I think our team could use some of those. I think everyone could use some of those." He smiles weekly.

Charlie just shakes his head. "We were kids then. I doubt there's place for idealism in the NHL."

Adam grows serious and looks away. "Everything's for sale in the NHL, that's all it is really. I mean, I knew that already, but I miss the old days a lot. When it was alright to just believe in being a team and in winning as a team and that winning was about pride and the game, not just a show."

Adam stands and Charlie stands with him. He doesn't want Adam to leave, he wants to be more to Adam than just his lawyer. He also never thought that Adam had appreciated his pep talks and the bonding of the team quite so much, not with all his ambition and goal setting. It was all or nothing for Adam from the start. Charlie had never played like that, never could. He doesn't work like that either, which is probably why he ends up majorly underpaid. He also takes far too many pro bono cases.

"When do we go to trial?"

Charlie snaps out of his thoughts and back to reality. For all that he wants or might want, Adam is still his client and that's what he has to focus on for now. "Trial is expensive. We'll try to settle first. Their lawyers probably won't want to, especially when they see me. I still think you're taking a gamble here, Banksie." Adam smiles at him lopsidedly and Charlie finds himself taken aback. "What?"

"Nothing. I've just…missed being called that is all. But no, I don't think they'll settle either. That's why I asked about trial."

"I can't say yet. We've got the 26f meeting—"

"What meeting?"

"It's just a meeting where we'll meet with their lawyers, try to talk things out, set up a preliminary schedule."

Adam nods.

"We've got that on Friday, so we'll see. I'm gonna try to streamline this for us, though, so you can get back to doing what you do best." Charlie gives him an encouraging smile.

"Thanks, Charlie, really." Adam takes a step forward and puts a hand on Charlie's arm. They stand there in the snow just looking at each other. Adam chews absentmindedly at his lip for a few moments. "I should probably let you go," he says finally, letting go of Charlie's arm.

Charlie instantly feels the emptiness where Adam's hand had been. He doesn't want to leave. "Probably."

Adam pick up his skates and slings them over one shoulder. Charlie starts to back away. "Hey, Charlie…"

"Yea?"

"After this whole thing is over and I'm no longer your client – because I know you guys have rules about these things – I was thinking…do you want to go to dinner or something?"

Charlie stops and look at Adam a little incredulously. His stomach does a flip and he asks, just to be sure, "Like dinner dinner?"

Adam flushes. "Yes."

The sun comes back out, making the snow around them glow and sparkle and turning Adam's sandy hair golden again. "I'd like that."