Disclaimer - I do not own anything even remotely related to The Mighty Ducks. I only wish I had thought of them first…

Author's Note: Set at Pennington State University, after the Eden Hall years, in a fictional area where more than a normal amount of the Ducks have ended up for college (please, it's not like a high school would have accepted and ENTIRE team on scholarship…so it follows that they'd all end up at the same college).

Italics indicate character thoughts.

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When she walked into the lecture hall, Beau looked up at the rows of stadium seating. Why does is feel like everyone is staring at me? Heavy sigh. Get a grip. People don't think about you nearly as much as you think they do. She looked up, though, and it really did seem like there were quite a few pairs of eyes focused in her direction. She sighed again, consciously hefting her messenger bag higher onto her shoulder. Just go sit down. If you keep standing here like an idiot, they are going to be looking at you.

Charlie couldn't help but notice the girl. Cute, very cute. Plus, she was just standing there. Well, that and the fact that half of the buttons on her shirt were completely undone. Red bra. Nice.

As she started to make her way up the stairs, he shook his head, almost a little embarrassed for checking her out when she didn't even know she was putting it all on display. Nice, Conway. You're a real gentleman. Just imagine what Connie and Julie would say. They would so kick your ass.

Slouching down further in his seat, he chewed his pen tip and pretended to look at the syllabus the professor had left lying by the door. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she scooted into the row behind him. Okay, so I should totally do something to let her know that her shirt is wide open. He shook his head to himself. No, she'll notice. Charlie tilted his head a bit to the side, scratching his temple and disheveling his mop of brown hair. She did walk across campus like that though, so she's obviously not feeling the breeze. Okay. Be a man. Turn around and say, "Excuse me, your shirt is unbuttoned."

Nodding at his own resolve, Charlie swiveled in his seat and found himself face to face with open shirt and red lace. Shit. Forgot that row was higher up. He reddened a bit, gulping as he looked up at her face.

"Um. Your, uh…" He gestured blindly with his pen, looking everywhere but her shirt.

Beau looked down in confusion at the guy. He was making absolutely no sense. What is wrong with this loser? His eyes were darting from place to place and his pen was flailing wildly.

"I'm sorry. My what?"

He shook his head again, and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Your shirt," he blurted, way too loudly. "You shirt is unbuttoned."

It took only a moment for the realization to sink it, but when it did, boy did it sink in. Beau looked first at the guy, then down at her shirt. Two buttons past what she had left open, almost all of the rest were hanging wide apart; her shirt was open almost to her naval. Red lace and a lot of skin were not just peeking, but hanging out. For a brief moment, which felt like an eternity, she couldn't move. I'm paralyzed. I am frozen to my seat like in a bad bad movie. I am sitting here in a classroom on my first day of college with my shirt wide open and my sexy bra hanging out for the world to see. I wore my sexy bra to feel older today and it has resulted in this. What a dope. There is a college guy staring at my sexy bra and I am powerless to stop him. And he is looking at me (and my sexy bra) like I am a complete idiot.

Charlie didn't know what to do. She was just sitting there looking, well, frozen. And red. She is definitely getting red. Okay, it is really more a purplish color now. Purple can't be good.

"You, um, heard me right? Your shirt is unbuttoned." He whispered it this time.

She nodded, just slightly. Okay, he's talking Beau. Respond. Wait! I nodded. I can move! With that thought she jerked her hands up to cover herself and felt her color deepen. Buttoning her shirt she tried to speak. Play it off. Be cool.

"Um. I didn't…I didn't mean to…" Don't mention your sexy bra. "It's my sexy bra…" Jesus. "I uh…right. Thanks." With that she gave up all hope of doing anything remotely sexy, mature, or even normal. Beau threw her head down on her desk and simply hoped he would turn back around.

Charlie did turn back around. Her sexy bra. Indeed.

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