Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, The Mighty Ducks, Charlie Conway, or other characters related to the movies. I also do not own Joshua Jackson, the actor who played Charlie Conway in the movies, although if I did I would be quite the happy camper. I do own any original characters, including Michael and Skyler Lions, and the plot, so don't steal them, savvy?
Author's Note: No, there are no Ducks in this first Chapter, but this is significant to the story being the beginning and all. Please just read this. Chapter Two has some of the main Duckies in it, I promise The title is also tentative, being as I can't think of what to call this story. If you have any ideas, please don't be afraid to help a girl out.
"That's right, divorce. You heard me correctly!" She exclaimed, throwing a large book at her significant other. (Ironically enough, that book was her family's 70 year old bible. The very book that established the rights of marriage.) Clearly, the woman of only twenty-four years was not at all happy. Quite the contrary, actually; the woman was enraged.
"As in, you and me, not together anymore?" Her husband, a once bright twenty-six year old questioned. His naive brown eyes were gazing at her. This was what he had been waiting for, but now that he got her to breaking point, he wasn't so sure that he wanted her to leave.
"Yes, dumbass. You and I divorced, no more Mr. & Mrs. Michael Lions. No more faking the happy couple bullshit," She complained, seething. "No more of your dumb buddies waking me up in the middle of the night puking in the plants instead of the trashcan, okay? I am done with you and you're insincerity!"
He stared at her, intently, "So you're saying we really are done. Divorce papers, and all?" The man looked over the packet of papers she had previously handed to him that night. They were all signed by her, in that neat little cursive of hers, this forced a sigh from him. He seemed depressed for the first time since as far back as she could remember, "I can't believe you're really leaving me."
She growled and hastily pulled her black peacock coat off the rack. She pulled it so harshly that the whole thing came clattering down in a mess that Michael would have to clean up. She was moving out and she was getting a divorce. That was one thing she had been positive that she would never do; at one point, Michael and herself had been perfect. They loved every minute they were around each other. They had sex every night, and it wasn't just sex, it was mindblowing love-making. Alas, that had all came crashing down the moment she walked in on Michael and Elizabeth. Michael and she had grown distant and they didn't want the same things anymore. He clearly wanted someone else, and she just wanted to be left alone.
The young woman knew exactly where she was headed for on a night like this. Her second favorite place in the world - Duff's, a bar a mere six blocks from her house. She knew that Michael would go looking for her there, but at the moment, she couldn't care less. She wanted a beer, and she wanted it now. He couldn't take that away from her, not like he took her happiness away at least. Even as miserable as she was, she still smiled when the cyan neons of the bar came into sight.
The black tile floor and oaken bar greeted her eyes as she made a bee-line for a stool at the end of the bar. The bartender, who was some-what busy, recognised the young woman and quickly made a drink for his customer then headed straight to her. He eyed her appearance; it was not up to her usual standards. Her golden blonde locks were dishelved, her eyeliner was smeared, and she was wearing a thin blue teeshirt with her high school's name & mascot plastered on it, as well as a pair of stained hole-ridden jeans. Even despite all this, he could still call her the most beautiful girl in the bar.
"A Sam Adams?" He questioned, causing her to look up from her hands.
"No, Corona. What's up with that Sam? Forgetting my drink and all. It hasn't been that long."
He raised a brow, "Yes, it has." He pulled a Corona from a fridge and stuck a lime in the bottom before sliding it to his friend. "So Skyler, what's wrong?"
"I asked Michael for a divorce. . . Scratch that, I demanded a divorce," She replied, taking a nice long swig afterwards. Her usually teal eyes were a morose gray as they met his deep brown ones, "So I handed him the papers that I had signed, and he had the nerve to stare at me as if I was the bad guy. It was like he really believed that I fucked up."
"Do you regret it? I'm sure you can patch things --"
"It's not a matter of patching things up, Sam. I'm not regretting one single minute of our last argument. I don't care what happened. I'm pissed off that Michael put me in this position. I'm pissed that I have to get divorced. I mean, you know what it was like for me growing up. I swore to myself that a divorce would never be in my future," She explained, seeming angrier than before.
Sam shook his head, "It's not your fault. Michael wasn't right for you. You needed to be swept off your feet and kept swept off and he couldn't do that? So what? It happens. Divorce happens."
She shook her head, "Isn't that too much to ask? I mean, he couldn't possibly make me fall in love with him all over again every day. He didn't have that kind of dedication to me, and I knew that from the very start. I knew that since high school when I met him. Yet, somehow I thought he would be there always. I thought he could do that, but now I realize it was too much to want from someone."
"It's not too much too ask, Skye, you just have to hold on. Love will come for you, I mean look at you. You're a knock out."
The blonde raised an eyebrow at the man, "Sam, never say that again. Don't ever hit on me again."
He laughed, "I'm sorry Skyler, but it's true. You're gorgeous. If you had half as much confi--"
"Skye! Skyler, don't just sit there and ignore me. I am still your husband, you know?" There was his voice. Michael, her personal pain in the ass.
"Another beer, quick!" She exclaimed, downing the rest of the first. She wasn't ready to fight in a public place, in fact, she didn't even want to. She wanted to just quietly fade out of Michael's life, and mind, as easily as she had out of his heart, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. She knew he wouldn't go down without a fight, but she refused to let him keep her miserable.
"Can't you just talk to me? I mean, we've known each other a long time and --" Michael began.
A lofty sigh escaped from her lips, "We've known each other for a long time, and we both know that I'm not the girl for you. Let's face it Mike, you've been begging me to hand you those papers for months now; it's just that since I finally have, you're not so sure that this is what you want. You think you want me to be around because you're afraid of the change. You're afraid of being a bachelor and having all kinds of skanky fans over you because I won't be there to fight them off anymore."
She took another gulp of the ice cold beer, and looked over at her soon-to-be exhusband. He looked exsasperated, uninformed, and confused. It seemed out of character for him to be so distraught, "Michael I know you like the back of my hand. You know you want this just as badly as I do, so take it gracefully, or take it like a man - either way. Just stop looking at me like that. It's depressing, and I've been depressed enough lately."
Michael took a look at Sam, "Give me a shot of whiskey, then I'll be out of here."
Sam nodded and produced a shot glass, then a bottle of Jack Daniels; he poured the shot and slid it to Michael, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. After the shot was down his throat, Michael threw a five on the counter and left without saying a word to Skye or to Sam. He just left, and finally, he walked out of her life.