Summary: SEQUEL TO FLYING TOGETHER…a continuation of the life and times of the mighty ducks…Focus on Dean, Charlie, Connie, Guy, Adam and Julie…again. What can I say, they're my 6 favorite characters!
Disclaimer: The Mighty Ducks and all its characters belong to Disney. I do not own any of it!
Grown-ups
By Rebecca
Chapter 4: Something New
Dean nearly jumped in shock when he walked into the rink that night. It was almost 11pm and freezing outside. He hadn't expected anyone to be there. But there she was, knelt beside a little boy, giggling as she slowly guided him on his little skates.
Normally, Dean would've walked out. He didn't particularly feel like skating with anyone else tonight. But her laugh somehow captured him, and held him in the shadows as he continued to watch the magic scene.
She was a simple woman, nothing glamorous about her, and certainly not the typical sexy goddess type Portman usually went after. But there was something elegant…and pure that made her utterly adorable. Her face was framed by cascading waves of auburn curls which bounced lightly against her back. His gaze swept what pleasant form he could make out under the black overcoat she wore, and down to her white figure skates. Her hands, covered in slightly dirtied white gloves clutched the hands of the boy who oddly reminded him of a very young Guy Germaine. He was giggling in his bright yellow snowsuit. It wasn't until the giggling stopped that he realized he had been discovered.
The boy ducked behind the woman as Dean stepped out of the shadows, concerned that he'd scared them.
"Who are you?" the woman snapped, "What do you mean by hiding back there?"
Jeez, she looked ready to punch him. Portman put his hands up in surrender, "I didn't mean to scare you. Just here to skate," he held up his open bag as proof. It worked. Instantly she relaxed.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she smiled, looking behind her at the shivering child, "He doesn't like strangers."
Dean chuckled looking down at the boy peeking out from behind her. "Me neither."
The woman sighed, "All right monkey-head," she said to the boy, "we're outta here."
"Oh no, wait," Dean said, "I don't want to kick you out. It's a big rink."
She smiled, "Thanks, but this guy has a big day tomorrow right? He's going to the library."
"Oh wow! Awesome dude!" he tried again. And again, the boy hid.
She grabbed his hand and skated over to their stuff. "Have a good night."
But Dean followed her to the bench, "Well wait, you guys hungry? We could…grab a coffee or pie or something."
"Heh, thanks but no. He's tired."
"Well how 'bout I at least walk ya to the subway. It's cold out there."
"We're calling a cab," the woman was getting irritated, and Dean sensed why. He'd seen that look a hundred times on the job. The look of a woman who was frightened by a New York stranger but stood her ground to protect herself and her young. No doubt there was some mace in that bag she held as tightly as she held the boy.
"Look lady," he stepped back, "I know that look. I know what you're thinking. But you don't need to be scared of me. I'm a cop," he reached for his badge and held it towards her, "See?"
She eyed it in speculation and glanced up, a little less irritated but not any more willing, "Look, I'm not scared of you. I'm just not in the habit of accepting coffee-dates at 11pm with complete strangers. I appreciate the offer, but really. We're fine. I have to get my son home."
Dean nodded. He'd tried his best, but she wasn't interested. Besides, she had a son. Probably had a husband too…at least that's what he told himself as he watched the giant metal door close and click behind them.
He sighed as he sank to the bench, hands on his knees and for the second time that night, looked toward the ceiling, "Thanks Fulton," he half-laughed, half-choked, "This was a really great idea." Slowly, he returned home.
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