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 7: No escape

"12th floor Mr. Germaine. Have a pleasant evening."

            "Thanks Jimmy," Guy nodded and stepped off the elevator, cautious of turning the hallway. There was always a kid or two who'd somehow gotten past security and found his suite at the top of the Marriott. Guy had stopped complaining, seeing as how he was absolutely convinced that the hotel actually publicized that they had a live breathing sports celebrity living atop their tower. Today's selection was composed of two punk leather clad teenagers.

            "Yo! Germaine! Awesome game today!"

            Guy put on his celebrity grin, "Thanks boys. Kinda tired now. So if you'll excuse me-"

            "Aw, come on man, just one autograph for my sister. Please? She adores you. Just too shy to come up here ya know?"

            Guy rolled his eyes. This jackass probably didn't even have a sister. "Here ya go sport. Now get outta here k? Need my beauty sleep."

            They skipped down the hall like little girls and left Guy to his peace. He unlocked his door and slipped inside, dumping his equipment off in the small closet just inside the room. The maid had left on the TV, just as he liked it and his usual order of Buffalo wings and brandy lay on a tray atop the nightstand.

            Guy slipped out of his jacket and slung it over the desk chair as he opened the bottle and poured himself a tumbler. All the service in the world, he thought has he plopped down on his bed in front of the TV scrolling stock market reports in big blue bars across the bottom. Room service, no laundry, no cleaning, fresh towels every day…this place sucks.

            Guy hated his life. He woke up in a hotel room, went to play hockey and came home to fresh lemon-pine-sol and downy'd sheets. He drank (heavily) went to sleep, woke up and went right back out to play hockey. Guy hated hockey…he hated everything about it. In fact, it was his new hobby nowadays to wonder what his life would be like had there been no hockey for Guy Germaine. A duck would be something you threw French fries at in Sea World. A stick- something you saw lying on the ground amidst very large trees. Puck- favorite insult of Don Rickles from old re-runs of Dean Martin celebrity roasts. Charlie- some annoying kid he'd once known in junior high. Eden Hall- preppy school for rich wimps and sissies. Connie…there would be no Connie. No Connie and Guy. No lifetime of affection, love and then heartbreak. No soul mate. No marriage…no separation.

            Guy shook his head which was already spinning enough from the combination of several checks into the boards earlier that night, and the drink he held in his hand now. In fact, those losers waiting for him outside his door were about a year too late for a fan-worthy celebrity. Guy's game was all but gone. He'd been royally chewed out by his coach for lack of motivation. Like he gave a damn. He lived in a hotel room for cryin' out loud. A friend of his just died…what the hell did he have to be motivated about?

            He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and moved to pour another one, flipping the channel to some lame cartoon as he sank into yet another vat of inescapable memories…

            "Got a surprise for ya honey," he said as he reached beneath the mini-bar and grabbed the bottle he'd been saving for almost a year.

            "Oh yeah? What's that?" Connie asked, absently, as she tweaked the branches of their 9 ft. Christmas tree, a hearty fire cackling in the corner fireplace. Manheim Steamroller echoed from their surround-sound stereo as Guy popped up from behind the bar with the enthusiasm of a 1st grader at Show 'n' tell.

            "Ta da!" he exclaimed, presenting an unopened bottle of champagne.

            Connie turned around and froze, "Wh-what's that?" she asked quietly.

            Guy didn't seem to notice the stuttering, "Champagne. The kind we had last year at that silly Ducks New Years party that you liked so much remember?"

            Connie mentally kicked herself, "Oh yeah! Good stuff."

            "Just a bit of holiday cheer, my dear," Guy smiled as he rounded the corner of the bar and slipped his arm around her waist from behind. "To celebrate a Christmas we for ONCE, don't have to spend with our families."

            At that, Connie had to laugh. "That is definitely a benefit. At least I don't have to listen to your mother complaining that I'm too quiet."

            Guy laughed and moved back to the bar, grabbing two flutes from the cabinet as he began to pour, "You'd think dear old mum would learn that you're so quiet because she doesn't stop talking!" He returned to her side, "Here, Merry Christmas Con."

            Hesitantly, she took the glass, hoping that he wouldn't notice she wasn't drinking…no such luck. "Whatsa matter? You not thirsty?"

            Connie shrugged, "I'll uh…save it for later."

            "Aw come on, you love this stuff. And we've got plenty."

            Connie stirred around the liquid in her glass and watched the bubbles dance to the surface.

            "Connie?"Oh no, there's that worried concern, "Honey, you ok?"

            Connie looked up and sighed, "Honey, I can't drink this right now."

            Guy stepped back, "Um…ok," he answered, obviously confused.

            She suppressed a smile and set her glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Guy watched and wondered as his wife knelt down again beside the tree and reached underneath the branches for a small package. Hesitating only a moment more, she handed him the gift wrapped with the up-most care and precision in pale blue paper and tied with silver ribbon. "Merry Christmas sweetheart," she said, her voice barely audible.

Her stomach had been thrown into the spin cycle, terrified of what his reaction would be. She waited in anticipation as Guy turned the package over a few times in his hand before he slowly worked the ribbon off and then tore into the paper.

A soft paperback fell into his hands as he set the paper aside and flipped it over to read the cover. His eyes grew wide as the title came into view, "1,001 Baby Names." Stunned into silence, Guy mentally checked himself that he indeed did wake up this morning…it wasn't a dream. He read the title again, afraid that it might instead say something like, "Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park," this time. It didn't…

Finally, he looked down to his wife, kneeling at his side, her eyes full of the same tears that filled his now, "Connie you're-"

She nodded, "I wanted to tell you right when I found out…but I was scared…since you know…we've been trying for so long."

"But this time it's true?"

She smiled again, "We're gonna have a baby."

Guy sprung up from the couch and swung her into his arms, "Oh my God!" he laughed as he held her tightly, still secretly afraid that this whole thing might still be a dream. But as he tipped her head back and kissed her, there was no mistaking it. He was very much awake…and alive.

"Merry Christmas 'daddy'" she whispered.

"I love you Con."

* * *

Ok….I'm soooooooo sorry it took so long to update. School has been a blissful nightmare this year….so much to do, but at least I'm having fun. Coming up on our fall break though, so hopefully time between the next installments won't be so long. Read and respond if you still want me to keep goin' with this. Hope you enjoyed.