An appearance at a con in Calgary also meant an appearance at Bret Hart's home. To visit his cousin when he was in the area was mandatory for the Rowdy One. There were few legends left, and it would be a damn shame to pass the chance up to visit with somebody who was both family and an old wrestling buddy. Rod knew all too well the loss, and now more than ever he valued his friends he had left. The business was rough, especially moreso back in the day, and anybody who had graduated that school of hard knocks deserved respect. The camaraderie that was there was something so special, untouchable, really.

So Rod found himself seated on a barstool at Bret's island, in his kitchen, the morning sun glowing through the window above the sink. Bret was leaning his back against the counter, large hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. Bret looked comfortable in loose sweat pants, and a Calgary Hitmen t-shirt, gray hair pulled back at the base of his neck. Every now and then he puffed at his coffee to try and cool it a bit.

"Coffee?" he offered Roddy, motioning towards the pot.

"Are you kidding? Why drink that sludge when you can drink this?" Roddy pulled a metallic can out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket, dawning a large grin, he placed it with a clink onto the countertop.

"You should watch that stuff, y'know?" Bret peered at the can of Redbull, pressing his lips together in a tight line of disapproval.

"Oooh come on now, Bret. I drink 'em all the time. Listen—I've been shot, stabbed, went down in a plane, beat cancer—"

Bret held up one hand, palm out, in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright, I get it," he said.

"Knew you'd see it my way," Rod said cheerfully, as he opened the can, and tilted it to his lips.

"We're just not kids anymore."

"Not according to my wife!" Rod cackled.

Bret was on the verge of rolling his eyes.

"What I'm tryin' to say is that we're not twenty-somethings any longer," Bret tried once more.

"Speak for yourself, Hitman. I'm twenty-something… just several times over!"

Bret couldn't help but crack a smile at that, one side of his lips pulling up, his dark eyes glittering. It was pointless to try and out talk Rod on either side of the ropes. Bret learned his lesson and dropped the subject entirely. They talked about the con a little bit. Bret revealed that he'd been asked to come too, but he wasn't really feeling up to it just now. They carried on as easily as ever, with most of the talking being from Rod, along with the exuberant gestures, sudden shifts in train of thought, and plenty of laughter. Bret was thankful for his cousin, his old friend; talking with him or even just listening was always a treat. There were some things that age and the passing of time would just never be able to change, and Bret was very, very glad for that.

"So, you seein' anyone lately?" Roddy asked, veering away from talk of his children and what they were up to these days, to something completely different.

"Sure. I see lots of people…" Bret hedged, "y'know, at the supermarket, and stuff."

"That ain't what I meant and you know it! Don't you try an' pull one over on Roddy—you and me both know it ain't gonna work!" Roddy wagged his finger as if scolding.

"You and Nat are far too interested in my personal affairs," Bret grumbled a little.

"We're just tryin' to help. Hey—how's about that dating computer thing that Nat set you up with?" Roddy grinned slyly, leaning over the bar, as if he and Bret had just become co-conspirators and there were people around waiting to eavesdrop on some secret plot.

"Stupid. How's a computer supposed to tell ya who you're compatible with? I talked to a few people, went out with one, that was more than enough," Bret sat his half-empty coffee mug down, and traced the design on the side of it, thinking.

His date with that woman had been going pretty well. She had been attractive with great smile, they had clicked conversationally, had enjoyed a nice dinner, but it had ended at that. She'd stuck a piece of gum into her mouth after their Italian dinner to combat the aftermath of the garlic, and the way to Bret's convertible in the parking lot, he'd heard the distinctive sound of: gum popping.

Dammit, Shawn, you know I—

Excuse me?

Bret had dropped the car keys, fumbled to pick them up, staying crouched behind the car for a few moments to compose himself as he watched one of her high heeled feet tap impatiently against the asphalt. God. Had he really just? Yes. The answer was yes. He straightened up after a moment, apologized, and unlocked the car to let them both in. As soon as she'd buckled her seat belt she had popped her gum again, and then asked him who Shawn was. The ride to her place to drop her off had been disturbingly, awkwardly, horribly silent.

"You're thinkin' about Shawn," Rod said, never shy to nail someone. Bret's eyebrows rose. "Don't say you're not—I know /that/ look."

Rod had him cornered. There was no use denying it. Bret hung his head a little. He sighed.

"Let me tell you a story, Bret," Roddy began, shifting himself on his stool.

Oh boy, Bret thought. Here we go.

"A long time ago I was lonely. Now don't get me wrong—you know me and Ric are like this," Rod linked two fingers together, signifying. "Love 'em, ah Ric—one time we—well I'll tell you that some other time."

No doubt Bret had heard that story before, whatever it was, he knew more than he'd really care to about the adventures of Roddy and Ric.

"Anyhow, I still got lonely I mean… I never had me a family. But I always wanted one. I still had this sorta dream I guess you could say. I wanted to have a wife, kids, a house to raise 'em in. I never had that kind of love before…" Roddy's tone had gone serious now, his fun-loving, energetic manner morphing into a tone and a look that let Bret know this was very close to Rod's heart. "I was in a diner with with an older wrestlin' friend when I saw Kitty. Didn't know her name. Didn't know her at all. But I caught a glance of her and I just… thought to myself… now there's a wholesome girl. A girl I'd like to marry."

Rod's eyes became a little too bright, and he sniffed, and remedied this by taking a large pull from his Redbull before continuing.

"I was shy. Yeah, me. I was shy back then. Still young and not confident, not much to show for anything, why would somebody like her wanna be with some loser like me? But the guy I was eatin' with noticed me noticin' her. He told her I liked her. Man, Bret, I thought I'd die just then—I was so embarrassed. But we went out. She was getting' off work later so we met up at the park. We sat on the swings talking," Rod was far away now in that memory, the look on his face was so emotional, such happiness.

Bret could feel it, and it moved him more deeply than he had expected it too. He had after all heard this story before, but he didn't dare interrupt it.

"When you see someone for the first time, and you just know… Bret, you can't forget that. You can't lose it. You can't destroy it—nobody can when it's /that true/."

Bret smiled a little.

"Suppose you're right."

"No—you know I'm right. Bret, you tell me—look me in the eye an' tell me—how'd you feel when you first saw Shawn? What'd you think of 'em?"

Bret tried to avoid Rod's pinning gaze, but in the end, he couldn't.

"Well I… I certainly didn't think he was wholesome," Bret chuckled, but Rod wasn't having any jokes just now. He was dead serious and Bret knew there would be no moving him until he touched the issue a little bit just to please his cousin and get it out of the way so they could talk about something else.

"Fine, Roddy I… I don't know. I thought he was some over-attractive, jerk kid, but that… there was more than that. He was… special. I knew we'd be magic in the ring, and I knew… I knew that nothing was gonna be the same anymore. This brat had started somethin' just by makin' me look at him, and he didn't even know it. I knew that whatever happened after that day, that it would be…"

Bret couldn't really come up with a word. He and Shawn had been more than amazing in the ring. They had pushed each other in and out of it. They had completed and destroyed each other in such ways—that it had almost seemed unreal at so many times. The electric charge of them coming together had been like an endless explosion of lightening, the crash of them tearing each other apart like deafening thunder. It was never as simple as a pleasant spring rain. It was always the raging, ever changing, swirling passion-filled love of the mightiest thunderheads colliding in the suffocating depths of summer.

"You said you didn't need some damn computer to tell ya who you oughta be with. You were right about that. Listen. All that other stuff, the bad stuff, was a long time ago. Sure it doesn't get erased but I know you've made your peace with it. And I'm just sayin'. Every couple in love has their hard times. I don't think it woulda been so bad if you and Shawn woulda met in some other way but… the way the business was back then, the people who were around, the way it was for you with your family… man. Anybody woulda had some hell to go through. You an' Shawn just turned it all in on yourselves. It's hard. I can't think of two things harder in life than wrestling, and love, and tryin' to do 'em both together? Don't go tellin' everybody, but that even scares /me/ a little bit. Both of you have changed since then. Shawn doesn't wear those wild pants no more. You got… just a little gray… and supposed you both mighta grown up a little and sorted out priorities. But ah… while I may still be a spring chicken, you're not, so it's about time you stopped dancin' around this thing. I don't mean Montreal and all that bullshit. I'm just talkin' about…" Roddy poked two fingers at Bret's chest. "That. Okay? See if Shawn'll go out with you just once. Test it out. You might figure out it's the same in all the good ways, and different in all the others."

Bret was relieved when Roddy finally finished his 'little' speech. He absently touched the spot Rod had poked, rubbing his chest. He was lost in thought now, but looked up when he heard the stool legs scraping against the flooring.

"Well, finished my Redbull, guess I oughta get goin' to that con," Roddy grinned widely, head tilted to the side, clearly back in 'rowdy' mode.

"Sure. Take care, Rod," Bret said, and he would have offered a handshake, but he knew that Roddy preferred the more invasive Piper Bearhug so as usual Bret allowed it from him. He patted Rod's back a little as they parted. "Thanks for stoppin' by. Tell the family I said hello."

-x-

A few days passed, and then a week, but as it usually went with things that Roddy said; it all stuck with Bret.

After two weeks he couldn't ignore Rod's voice in his head, or his heart, any longer. Shawn was coming up here to visit anyway, and Bret had an idea coming to his mind. He took out his phone, glancing at the text Shawn had sent him a few minutes ago, that he'd just arrived at Calgary International Airport. Bret got into his convertible for the drive to go pick up Shawn, but he wasn't planning on bringing him straight to his house.

First, he thought, they might stop at a little park along the way.

They might sit in the swings and talk.