DISCLAIMER: I am not, in any way, shape, or form associated with the people
at Disney, or any of the other people who had anything to do with the
creation of the original Mighty Ducks Characters. I don't own them. But I
do own any character you see and read in this story that is not originally
part of the Mighty Ducks cast. So everything you see here that you don't
recognize rightfully belongs to me. I would love to get reviews because
getting reviews means getting motviation to keep continuing with this
story. Read and let me know what you think. I will check back ofter for
reviews, and you may even get a personal email from me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had originally started this fic quite some time ago under a different name, and some of you may even recognize it. But then I grew lazy and didn't finish the story after having only two chapters done. Not much happened, so I stopped writing it and threw it away. I have no clue how long it's been. But somehow, during my month off from school (my winter break, as I am in college now), I got the inspiration to pick up this fic and get to working on it again. The plotline is still the same, but I'm adding a lot more details to it. My biggest fault, when it comes to writing stories, is putting a story out it out for everyone to read before it is really meant to be read.
"Bastard!"
Fulton Reed grinned at his best friend, Dean Portman, in a mischievous manner. If it was one thing that Portman hated, it was being woken up before 7am.
Portman sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Fulton had just thrown, well, smacked, a pillow at him, leaving Portman to be not all too happy.
"If I look at the clock and see that the numbers don't read 7:00, I'm gonna kick your ass," Portman grumbled.
Fulton laughed. "Dude, chill out," he said.
Portman glanced at the clock just in time to see the numbers 6:59 change to 7:00. "This was your lucky day," he informed his best friend. Though still feeling very tired from all the excitement of party last night, Portman managed to crawl out of bed. He rummaged through his dresser and pulled out clothes that were suitable enough for him to wear. Jeans, a shirt with a band's logo... what else was new?
"Hey Fulton," Portman called from the bathroom. "Did you do last night's homework for English?"
Fulton had been brushing his hair, but the second the words 'last night's homework' came out of Portman's mouth, he stopped and turned around.
"Homework?" he repeated.
"Yeah Fult," Portman said. "Ya know, homework? That annoying little thing that teachers assign us to keep us busy?"
"Oh... that," Fulton replied. He glanced at the clock, wondering how much time he would have to do it.
In the bathroom, Portman laughed. He knew that Fulton was staring at the clock, thinking about how he could do the homework. But, Fulton was his best friend, and Portman believed that best friends should help each other out whenever possible.
"Fult?"
"Yeah?" Fulton was beginning to get worried. His homework HAD to be done. No questions asked. The test was today, and the teacher clearly stated that the homework had to be turned in order to take the test. So if Fulton didn't have anything to hand in by the time English class started, he wouldn't be able to take the test.
"My backpack, dark blue binder, behind my history homework," Portman said. "You know what to do."
"Thanks Portman," Fulton replied. Portman always had his back, and he always had Portman's. That was the way things worked between the Bash Brothers, and that's why Fulton and Portman were such good friends.
Contrary to popular belief amongst the Eden Hall student body, Portman was the more 'academic' Bash Brother. Sounding like a teacher's dream, Portman always turned in his homework on time, sometimes even early, and almost always did well on tests. Fulton, on the other hand, was just an example of the average student. Sometimes he didn't care about homework. He had other things to think about. Like Charlie, Fulton frequently had his mind on hockey. But unlike the Ducks' fearless leader, Fulton never let hockey go to his head.
"Dude, my head is killing me," Fulton groaned. He found Portman's backpack and dug out the blue binder.
"Drinking does that to you Fulton," Portman replied wisely.
Again, there was another thing about Portman. Along with being a teacher's dream, he didn't drink. Well, Portman drank wine at a relative's wedding once, but he never counted that as anything. And he didn't smoke either. A Bash Brother didn't have to smoke to feel cool enough to where he could kick the crap out of people. That's what the ice was for. You knock down and bash around anyone you wanted to, and you wouldn't get in trouble for it.
Again, Fulton groaned as he starting copying Portman's homework. Fulton wasn't normally a drinker himself, but for reasons unknown, Fulton became best friends with Corona and Margarita last night. He and Portman had attended a party with some of the other Ducks. With the exception of Fulton, no one on the team that was there at the party drank, because if Coach Orion found out, they'd be in for some serious lecturing. To the ducks, a lecture from Coach Orion was worse than any punishment.
*SEATTLE, WASHINGTON*
"Hey Dad, why can't I go on the road with you this year?"
Two thousand miles away, Carrie Holden was in the middle of packing her clothes. There was a lot of packing to do. A lot. She was moving from her home in Seattle, Washington to her new home in Minnesota.
"Because you need to go to a regular school for once and I don't want your mom having to worry about whether I'm taking good enough care of you." Thirty-three year old Scott Holden smiled at his daughter.
Carrie frowned at the mention of her mom. Ever since her dad joined the NHL, Carrie and her mom didn't get along that well. Even after the divorce, Carrie's parents still got along, but it was only Carrie that her mom didn't get along with. Being married to a rising NHL star was something that Carrie's mom was able to deal with at first. But then the former Mrs. Holden was becoming worried that Carrie's dad wouldn't always be there for her, due to his schedule of games all over the country. Carrie was an avid hockey fan, as well as a player for most of her life, and that was something her mom didn't approve of. So when Carrie was seven, her mom divorced her dad and later married some rich guy named John Callahan. John was okay, and thankfully he wasn't some drunken bastard who beat up his wife and kid. John had a son named Andrew, who was nineteen. Andrew was a fairly nice guy, and it was almost like Carrie having a real brother. When Carrie moved to Minnesota, she would be staying with Andrew and his grandparents, Jack and Lorraine. Jack and Lorraine were really nice, but Carrie had never gotten around to calling them Grandpa and Grandma. They weren't really her grandparents anyway, only her step-grandparents. So Carrie referred to them as Jack and Lorraine.
"But dad---" Carrie started to say.
"But nothing," Scott Holden replied. "Look on the bright side kiddo. You're going to a brand new school. A school with an excellent hockey program. You'll be playing with those kids who were in the Junior Goodwill games a couple years ago."
At the mention of the word 'hockey', Carrie just had to smile. Sure, she would be leaving her dad, but at the same time she was also being given the chance to play hockey at a well known school. And plus, she would be living with her step-brother, whom she got along with really well. Maybe moving to Minnesota wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
*EDEN HALL ACADEMY*
"Damn, don't they ever stop making out?"
"Geez, the two of them are worse than you and Guy--- ow!"
"Shut up Averman."
It was another eventful lunch at Eden Hall. Most of the Ducks were trying to eat their lunch and keep it down. Twelve out of the thirteen Ducks were sitting at their usual table, watching in awe as their fearless leader made out with his former ex now-again girlfriend Linda Chavez. The two had originally broken up back in May. But four months of being apart from each other was just too much for either of them to handle. Charlie and Linda were back together, and from the looks of it, they were going to be together for a very long time.
Russ eyed Charlie and Linda, and then looked away in disgust. "You know, I think that Averman is right. They are pretty bad."
Guy snorted. "Hah! Try being in the same dorm room with Charlie. Or rather, Charlie and Linda. She's over there all the freakin' time. It's like having a third person living with us."
"I sympathize Guy," Julie replied. "Ow! God Connie, have you ever heard of not hitting people?"
"Yeah Cons," Adam spoke up. "What's with you lately?"
"You're acting like you have permanent PSM," Portman added. He held up his hands in mock defense as Connie shot him an evil glare.
Connie frowned. "It's PMS, you idiot," she told him. "But if you're really confused about all that, I could go into great detail..." She grinned devilishly.
Portman shuddered. "Nah, that's okay Connie," he said. Hearing about periods and other girl stuff like that gave Portman the creeps. It was bad enough that he had two older sisters back in Chicago who constantly talked about that stuff.
"So what's wrong Connie?" Dwayne asked calmly.
Connie was about to speak up but then Charlie came waltzing up to the table grinning from ear to ear. Almost instantly, everyone forgot about Connie. Now the attention was turned to their team captain.
"Nice little shmooze fest you had going there," Luis said. "I think you may have beaten my record for the longest kiss in public."
Russ stifled a laugh, and Luis pretended to be hurt.
Charlie was still grinning. "You guys can give me crap about the kissing all you want, but save it for later," he told everyone. He took a seat.
"Why?" Ken asked.
"I've got news," Charlie said. "Big news."
~*~*~So what'd you think? Was it good? Was it bad? Let me know. You can also let me know what you would like to maybe happen in the story. And what's going on with Connie? I don't even know yet, so I have to work on the next chapter. In the meantime, I'd greatly appreciate any and all reviews from you guys.~*~*~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had originally started this fic quite some time ago under a different name, and some of you may even recognize it. But then I grew lazy and didn't finish the story after having only two chapters done. Not much happened, so I stopped writing it and threw it away. I have no clue how long it's been. But somehow, during my month off from school (my winter break, as I am in college now), I got the inspiration to pick up this fic and get to working on it again. The plotline is still the same, but I'm adding a lot more details to it. My biggest fault, when it comes to writing stories, is putting a story out it out for everyone to read before it is really meant to be read.
"Bastard!"
Fulton Reed grinned at his best friend, Dean Portman, in a mischievous manner. If it was one thing that Portman hated, it was being woken up before 7am.
Portman sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Fulton had just thrown, well, smacked, a pillow at him, leaving Portman to be not all too happy.
"If I look at the clock and see that the numbers don't read 7:00, I'm gonna kick your ass," Portman grumbled.
Fulton laughed. "Dude, chill out," he said.
Portman glanced at the clock just in time to see the numbers 6:59 change to 7:00. "This was your lucky day," he informed his best friend. Though still feeling very tired from all the excitement of party last night, Portman managed to crawl out of bed. He rummaged through his dresser and pulled out clothes that were suitable enough for him to wear. Jeans, a shirt with a band's logo... what else was new?
"Hey Fulton," Portman called from the bathroom. "Did you do last night's homework for English?"
Fulton had been brushing his hair, but the second the words 'last night's homework' came out of Portman's mouth, he stopped and turned around.
"Homework?" he repeated.
"Yeah Fult," Portman said. "Ya know, homework? That annoying little thing that teachers assign us to keep us busy?"
"Oh... that," Fulton replied. He glanced at the clock, wondering how much time he would have to do it.
In the bathroom, Portman laughed. He knew that Fulton was staring at the clock, thinking about how he could do the homework. But, Fulton was his best friend, and Portman believed that best friends should help each other out whenever possible.
"Fult?"
"Yeah?" Fulton was beginning to get worried. His homework HAD to be done. No questions asked. The test was today, and the teacher clearly stated that the homework had to be turned in order to take the test. So if Fulton didn't have anything to hand in by the time English class started, he wouldn't be able to take the test.
"My backpack, dark blue binder, behind my history homework," Portman said. "You know what to do."
"Thanks Portman," Fulton replied. Portman always had his back, and he always had Portman's. That was the way things worked between the Bash Brothers, and that's why Fulton and Portman were such good friends.
Contrary to popular belief amongst the Eden Hall student body, Portman was the more 'academic' Bash Brother. Sounding like a teacher's dream, Portman always turned in his homework on time, sometimes even early, and almost always did well on tests. Fulton, on the other hand, was just an example of the average student. Sometimes he didn't care about homework. He had other things to think about. Like Charlie, Fulton frequently had his mind on hockey. But unlike the Ducks' fearless leader, Fulton never let hockey go to his head.
"Dude, my head is killing me," Fulton groaned. He found Portman's backpack and dug out the blue binder.
"Drinking does that to you Fulton," Portman replied wisely.
Again, there was another thing about Portman. Along with being a teacher's dream, he didn't drink. Well, Portman drank wine at a relative's wedding once, but he never counted that as anything. And he didn't smoke either. A Bash Brother didn't have to smoke to feel cool enough to where he could kick the crap out of people. That's what the ice was for. You knock down and bash around anyone you wanted to, and you wouldn't get in trouble for it.
Again, Fulton groaned as he starting copying Portman's homework. Fulton wasn't normally a drinker himself, but for reasons unknown, Fulton became best friends with Corona and Margarita last night. He and Portman had attended a party with some of the other Ducks. With the exception of Fulton, no one on the team that was there at the party drank, because if Coach Orion found out, they'd be in for some serious lecturing. To the ducks, a lecture from Coach Orion was worse than any punishment.
*SEATTLE, WASHINGTON*
"Hey Dad, why can't I go on the road with you this year?"
Two thousand miles away, Carrie Holden was in the middle of packing her clothes. There was a lot of packing to do. A lot. She was moving from her home in Seattle, Washington to her new home in Minnesota.
"Because you need to go to a regular school for once and I don't want your mom having to worry about whether I'm taking good enough care of you." Thirty-three year old Scott Holden smiled at his daughter.
Carrie frowned at the mention of her mom. Ever since her dad joined the NHL, Carrie and her mom didn't get along that well. Even after the divorce, Carrie's parents still got along, but it was only Carrie that her mom didn't get along with. Being married to a rising NHL star was something that Carrie's mom was able to deal with at first. But then the former Mrs. Holden was becoming worried that Carrie's dad wouldn't always be there for her, due to his schedule of games all over the country. Carrie was an avid hockey fan, as well as a player for most of her life, and that was something her mom didn't approve of. So when Carrie was seven, her mom divorced her dad and later married some rich guy named John Callahan. John was okay, and thankfully he wasn't some drunken bastard who beat up his wife and kid. John had a son named Andrew, who was nineteen. Andrew was a fairly nice guy, and it was almost like Carrie having a real brother. When Carrie moved to Minnesota, she would be staying with Andrew and his grandparents, Jack and Lorraine. Jack and Lorraine were really nice, but Carrie had never gotten around to calling them Grandpa and Grandma. They weren't really her grandparents anyway, only her step-grandparents. So Carrie referred to them as Jack and Lorraine.
"But dad---" Carrie started to say.
"But nothing," Scott Holden replied. "Look on the bright side kiddo. You're going to a brand new school. A school with an excellent hockey program. You'll be playing with those kids who were in the Junior Goodwill games a couple years ago."
At the mention of the word 'hockey', Carrie just had to smile. Sure, she would be leaving her dad, but at the same time she was also being given the chance to play hockey at a well known school. And plus, she would be living with her step-brother, whom she got along with really well. Maybe moving to Minnesota wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
*EDEN HALL ACADEMY*
"Damn, don't they ever stop making out?"
"Geez, the two of them are worse than you and Guy--- ow!"
"Shut up Averman."
It was another eventful lunch at Eden Hall. Most of the Ducks were trying to eat their lunch and keep it down. Twelve out of the thirteen Ducks were sitting at their usual table, watching in awe as their fearless leader made out with his former ex now-again girlfriend Linda Chavez. The two had originally broken up back in May. But four months of being apart from each other was just too much for either of them to handle. Charlie and Linda were back together, and from the looks of it, they were going to be together for a very long time.
Russ eyed Charlie and Linda, and then looked away in disgust. "You know, I think that Averman is right. They are pretty bad."
Guy snorted. "Hah! Try being in the same dorm room with Charlie. Or rather, Charlie and Linda. She's over there all the freakin' time. It's like having a third person living with us."
"I sympathize Guy," Julie replied. "Ow! God Connie, have you ever heard of not hitting people?"
"Yeah Cons," Adam spoke up. "What's with you lately?"
"You're acting like you have permanent PSM," Portman added. He held up his hands in mock defense as Connie shot him an evil glare.
Connie frowned. "It's PMS, you idiot," she told him. "But if you're really confused about all that, I could go into great detail..." She grinned devilishly.
Portman shuddered. "Nah, that's okay Connie," he said. Hearing about periods and other girl stuff like that gave Portman the creeps. It was bad enough that he had two older sisters back in Chicago who constantly talked about that stuff.
"So what's wrong Connie?" Dwayne asked calmly.
Connie was about to speak up but then Charlie came waltzing up to the table grinning from ear to ear. Almost instantly, everyone forgot about Connie. Now the attention was turned to their team captain.
"Nice little shmooze fest you had going there," Luis said. "I think you may have beaten my record for the longest kiss in public."
Russ stifled a laugh, and Luis pretended to be hurt.
Charlie was still grinning. "You guys can give me crap about the kissing all you want, but save it for later," he told everyone. He took a seat.
"Why?" Ken asked.
"I've got news," Charlie said. "Big news."
~*~*~So what'd you think? Was it good? Was it bad? Let me know. You can also let me know what you would like to maybe happen in the story. And what's going on with Connie? I don't even know yet, so I have to work on the next chapter. In the meantime, I'd greatly appreciate any and all reviews from you guys.~*~*~
