How Bad Do You Want It? Chapter 5, a misc. movies fanfic

Big long annoying Author's Note (but please read it anyway):

Hi everyone. Please, please, please, please keep reviewing, because that's when I start writitng the really good stuff, this chapter's a little slow I think. I'm sorry if some of the characters are acting a little, well, out of character. For instance Buzz is being a little juvenile (was he really short, because I know Billy is, if you watch during the power walk before the game with the Soviets, he's about a foot shorter than everyone else,) and Herb is cracking jokes and things like that,but I think with an extra character things like that would change.

As for the length of my chapters, they may get shorter as school picks up, but for now I'm glad you enjoy, and I can't stress reviewing enough. Feed me ideas, comments, tell me what you like most, if I stop getting feedback, I'll stop writing. So I'm asking for 2 reviews before I post chapter 5. And if we get to 20 before chapter six, we'll see if we can work some sort of fuzzy romace out with one of the player or something, just start giving me ideas things you'd like to see.

Coach Patrick and Nicolette entered Coach's office. Herb was talking quietly to Jimmy. He got up a moment later.

"Hey Sissy," he started, slapping Nikki lightly on the shoulder as he left the room.

"Sissy?" Herb questioned looking to his daughter.

"The guys started calling her that because...well, um," Coach Patrick looked over to Nicolette for help.

"Cause I'm a bossy little bitch," she finished in the most innocent tone possible. "Well anyway the Coneheads are coming in."

"Coneheads?" Herb asked again. "What is it with these nicknames?"

"Well the guys started calling them that because they're a little," Coach Patrick did a little "crazy whistle". "You know like the Coneheads."

"What's that?" Herb asked.

"Dan Akaroyd. Jane Curtin." Coach Patrick explained, "I guess that's off your radar." There was a soft knock at the door just then.

"Come in boys," Coach Brooks called to Bah, Pav, and Buzz.

"You wanted to see us coach," Bah asked.

"Yea," Herb began. "I was thinking about keeping the three of you on the same line. Everybody okay with that?"

"Yea, sure," the boys were agreeable.

"What about you Buzzy? How are things going here with Bah and Pav?" Coach asked.

"Things are going good," he answered thoughtfully. "We're moving the puck well; it's just a little different playing with them."

"Yea I don't know how to explain it," Bah admitted. "We seem to just find each other at the other end off the ice and make things happen."

"Pass, shot, score," Pave explained.

"Pass, shot—"

"And score," Buzz finished. The coaches gave each other looks as Nicolette crept up behind Buzz. She had her tongue stuck out in concentration as she gauged the difference in their heights. "Yea, I know I'm shorter than you," he said without turning around.

"But we still love you," she assured him with a big hug.

"Alright boys," Coach Brooks stated. "We'll see you next week."

"Bye Coach," they answered, exiting the office.

"Rest up," Coach Patrick called.

"Looks like we're taking a line of Coneheads to Europe," Herb mused, holding up the boys' pictures.

"If they can keep their legs under them," Coach Patrick answered. "Well, I'll see you next week."

"Is there something on your mind Craig?" Herb asked, "Or is that too far off my radar?"

"It's just I don't think you can push them this hard, not for six months," Craig protested. "They're tired, the whole team's tired."

"I know how hard to push 'em, Craig," Herb assured him.

"You sure?"

"You know why I had them take that test. To make sure I could push them this hard. See you next week Craig."

It was five months to Lake Placid; the team was in Norway, playing the Norwegian National Team, as it were. Nicolette stood next to her dad, wearing this horrible blue-gray pant-suite, which was not at all feminine as she would have liked it to be, behind a bench full of boys ogling at girls in the stands.

"Hey Buzzy," Bah leaned over. "Look up there, two girls, blond." Buzz nodded with a smile on his face. She looked down at them.

"Hey," Verchota started up. "Twins, about seventh row up."

"Man they're gorgeous," Silk observed. Nicolette listened in, silently fuming, not aware that her father was watching as she took her glasses off and set them in her skating bag in the corner.

"Lovely blond girls," Bah said.

"Maybe we could talk a few home with us," Verchota remarked. "Must be something in the water." Nikki huffed audibly and pulled her hair out of its tight bun. 'What the hell do they think I am?' She thought to herself in agitation, but she didn't realize Mike Eruzione had come to a complete stop, and was gawking at her as she shook her long hair out of her face, only to be plowed over by a Norwegian defenseman.

Coach Brooks slapped a hand to his forehead as Rizzo flew threw the air and hit the ice. When the whistle sounded the score board showed a tie at three.

"Get a whistle," Brooks snapped at Coach Patrick.

Nicolette pulled on her skates to go out on the ice for a little bit before the zamboni came out. The team was on their way off the ice when Coach Patrick intercepted them.

"Get back on the ice," he said.

"What for?" A few of the players protested.

"We'll find out when you get there won't we?" He answered. The team met Herb in the middle of the rink.

"You don't want to work during the game?" He shot angrily. "No problem, we'll work now. Goal line. That one." The boys lined up on the goal line, and Nicolette watched cautiously beside Doc as Craig blew the whistle and the players started off. Blue line, back. Red line and back. Far blue line and back. Far red line, back.

By the time they got back most were already out of breath, as Coach Brooks continued to yell at them.

"Hustle!" He ordered Jimmy and Steve, weighed down by the padding of the goalie uniforms. "You think you can win on talent alone. Gentlemen, you don't have enough talent to win on talent alone. Again!" Nicolette stood in shock as the whistle was blown and the boys started off again, when they had finished that set he continued to yell.

"You think you can play the Norwegian National team, and tie them, and go to the Olympic and win?" He hollered. "You better think about something else, every last one of you, when you put that jersey on you represent yourself and your team mates. And the name in the front is a helluva lot more important than the one on the back! Again!"

With another whistle Nikki grimaced boys were off again. Her father still wasn't done with them as they finished this set.

"Win, lose, or tie, you're gonna play like champions," he yelled. "Again."

"By then the boys were coughing and wheezing and hunched over with cramps, but they went off at the whistle. A few of them stumbled on the way back, but they all finished the set with a commentary from the coach.

"Kick it in the ass Verchota! You want to go home, Suter. All the way to the line and all the way back, it's not that difficult." He yelled as they came in, "What do you think you're doing, Nikki." He finally turned his sights on her. "Get out here."

"But I didn't do anything," she protested.

"Not yet!" He insisted, marching pointedly over. "Now get out here."

"Dad, this is insane," she insisted frantically.

Nicolette was well aware that her father had two settings: the Daddy setting, that was the one she liked, and the Coach setting. Right now he was set on homicidal coach. She was ready to do just about anything to stay off the ice with Homicidal-Herbie.

"No!' She screamed in protest, hugging onto the bench, as he tried to pull her out on the ice. He pried her away as she continued to scream. "Doc! Coach Pat! You better have a good lawyer; I am suing you for wrongful damages the minute we get back in the States. Nonononono!"

She kicked and flailed her arms indecently. The boys didn't waste precious breathing time on paying much attention, though, and she wouldn't have cared either way. He was forced to half-drag, half-carry her to the goal line.

"Again!" He ordered. Coach Patrick shook his head, and blew the whistle.

"Come on," Dave Christian urged her, as they went off. "Just one more." She tailed right behind him through this set, panting by the time got back to the goal line, her father yelled:

"Again!"

"Just one more," Dave Christian assured her, forcing a smile. "One more and we're out of here." This time she started coughing when they returned. Other players were falling over sputtering and weaving and she watched in horror as Mark Johnson fell down on all fours and vomited on the ice.

"Again!" Coach Brooks ordered insensitively. They went off into Nikki's third set. This was too much. They must have been speed skating for hours like this, and she was quite sure she wouldn't make it through the next set.

"Herb," Doc started, coming onto the ice. "The rink manager wants to clean the ice and then go home."

"Tell him to leave me the keys, I'll lock up," Herb instructed. "Again!" Craig gave him a look. "Again." The whistle blew and they were off again.

"If you keep playing this way, you won't ever beat anyone who's good, let alone great," Herb yelled.

"How does this apply to me again," Nicolette fumed, words broken and weakened with fatigue.

There was a loud click and the rink was plunged into almost absolute darkness. Some of the boys sighed in relief and began to disperse.

"Hey!" Brooks ordered. "Get back on that line." There were groans all around. "Again...Again." The whistle blew and they went off.

This time, Nicolette didn't make it back, half way through her knees gave out under her and she fell to the ice. Buzz Schneider had been so close behind her he didn't have time to maneuver around, and ran over her hand, and kicked her in the stomach. She screamed in pain and fear, pulling her arms and legs in as the rest of the skaters went by. Buzz slid to a halt and went back to check on her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Buzz," he winced as Coach Brooks yelled. "Keep going."

"I hit her," he tried in vain to explain. "Her hand's bleeding."

"I said keep going," Coach yelled. The other boys watched helplessly as Buzz huffed and reluctantly finished the set as Doc came out on the ice.

Nicolette was crying in hurt, as Doc helped her off the ice. He sat her down on the bench and had her flex her fingers, as she drank some water, from a random water bottle.

"It's only a small cut," Doc assured her. "Nothing's broken. Just a little cut and a few bruises." Nicolette watched with growing resentment as her father ran them again and again. The boys were gagging and sweating and spitting up on the ice.

"Doc," Craig started. "This is madness right?"

"How about you Silky, you going to be the next to quit on me?" Coach taunted. "What about you, O.C., you ready to go down? I think I got my money on you Verchota, of course, you and Nikki have a double date in about an hour, but you're not looking to good for that right now, are you?"

The whistle blew and the boys went off again. Most of them fell at least once or twice in the process, gagging and spitting and retching as they went along dutifully.

"Herb," Doc called. "This has gone on long enough. Someone is going to be seriously hurt."

"Again!" Her father yelled relentlessly. This time Craig wouldn't blow the whistle. "Again." He looked over to Coach Patrick. "Send 'em."

"Mike Eruzione!" Everyone stopped, and looked over curiously to Rizzo, hunched over and in pain, just like everyone else. He spit to clear out his throat in order to continue. "Winthrop, Massachusetts."

"Who do you play for?" her father asked.

"I play for," he managed to choke out. "The United States of America."

"That's all gentlemen," Herb said, walking off the ice, as Doc, Craig and Nikki ran out onto the ice. Nikki went across the rink to Jannie and Jimmy, to help them get some of the pads off, so walking back wouldn't be such a strain.

She knelt down, her pants almost completely soaked at this point, as she went to unhook shin pads and collect sticks, which were handed off to Coach Patrick by the bench. Walking off the ice she had her right arm around Jimmy, her left arm around Jannie, and Silky had his arms thrown around her neck. She saw Wells hit the boards and flip over onto the bench, but his skate got caught.

"Jimmy can you get that for him," she asked.

"I would if my arms weren't numb," he groaned. "I swear I would."

"Okay, rotate," she instructed, turning so she could reach his foot.

"Thank you," he moaned, struggling up to go to the locker room.

After she had changed into dry clothes, Nikki came into the lockers and helped some of the boys get out of their pads and skates, but after that, they were in the shower, they were on their own.

O.C. came out of the shower with nothing but his boxers on. He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. He gave Nikki a pleading look: "Sissy?" He cooed with hopeful puppy dog eyes.

"Alright, sit down, I'll rub your back," she consented. He sat down on the bench with a triumphant grin plastered on his face. She massages his shoulders for a few minutes when Bill Baker came out of the shower.

"Hey Nikki," he started. "I got a kink down here, do you think you could—" She rolled her eyes.

"Right, Baker, sit down I'll get it," she answered.

And so the trend continued for at least an hour or so, when the flow of people from the shower had demised. So she sat talking with Mark (Johnson) as he packed his things up.

Robert Johnson went to the cross roads, so the legend goes

He left with his guitar, and the devil kept his soul.

"Feeling better?" She asked.

"Little bit," he replied. "Kinda tired though. I'll be sleeping on the plane."

"Me too," she said thoughtfully. There was a pause. "So, is it worth it?" She asked at length.

"Is what worth it?" He asked.

"All this," she said. "The pain, the hard work, if in the end if we could get the gold, will you be satisfied?"

When I'm here on this highway, breathing diesel smoke

Driving hard for hours, trying to make that Memphis show

He nodded. "I know I will," he assured her. "This is my dream."

"How do you find the strength to keep going like this, and putting up with everyone's shit," she questioned. "How do you all do it?"

People always ask me, "Son what does it take?

To reach out and touch your dreams," to them I always say:

"I don't know," he said. "I just keep that vision in my head, I guess, standing on that podium, watching the flag go up, hearing the Star Spangled Banner. That's what I want."

"I admire you, just so much, all of you," she admitted. "I know I could never do this."

Are you hungry? Are you thirsty?

Is it a fire that burns you up inside?

How bad do you want it? How bad do you need it?

Are you eating, sleeping, dreaming with that one thing on your mind?

How bad do you want it? How bad do you need it?

Cause if you want it all you've got to lay it all out on the line

"This is what we love," Mark explained. "We live to play hockey. We wake up in the morning, sleep through the alarm, head out the door, late for work again, forget a lunch, get mugged on the way home, play hockey—and it was not a bad day." She laughed.

"Well I don't understand it," she says. "But I'll accept it."

I get to make my living doing what I love

Every night I give my heart and soul sometimes that ain't enough

"You think you'll be let down when it's all over?" She asked. He shrugged.

"Probably, but I mean, I don't think I'll need counseling or anything like that," he answered. She laughed.

But brother, if you're like me, looking down that road

Be careful of that wild wind, son sometimes it don't let go

"Do you think we've really got a shot at this," she asked. "In your honest opinion, can we beat the Soviets?"

Can you feel it? Can you taste it?

Can you hear it knocking at your door?

"It would take a miracle[1]," he said with a sly grin.

There's always a price you pay no matter what you do

If you're gonna climb that mountain to the top

It always comes down to

"Can I ask you a stupid," question she said. "I just need to hear this from you right now.

"Go right ahead," he urged.

"How bad do you want to win this," she asked. "Would you do anything to beat the Soviets?"

How bad do you want it? How bad do you need it?

Are you eating, sleeping, dreaming with that one thing on your mind?

How bad do you want it? How bad do you need it?

Cause if you want it all you've got to lay it all out on the line

"Would I do anything?" He thought aloud biting his lip, "To beat the Soviets. Hmm, this is a tough one, give me a second."

Robert Johnson[2] went to the cross roads, so the legend goes

He left with his guitar...

"I would sell my soul to beat the Soviets," he concluded.

And the devil kept his soul. The devil took his soul [3]

It was just about then that Mike (Eruzione) emerged from the showers, clothed in boxers and a white shirt.

"Trying to drown yourself in there, Rizzo," Mark asked humorously.

"I don't know," he answered in a slight daze. "I actually think I fell asleep."

"In the shower?" They mused.

"I was really tired," he admitted with a slight laugh.

"I'm going to get my stuff on the bus," Mark said. "Do you need me to come back for anything?" Nikki shook her head.

"Okay Rizzo wear's it hurt?" Nikki asked.

"What?" He started in confusion.

"Come on, it hurts somewhere," she started, rubbing his shoulders lightly. "Everyone else got a back rub from me, so it wouldn't be fair if I didn't give you one."

"How about I put my pants on first," he joked lightheartedly.

"Sounds like a plan," she gave him a smile.

"How's your hand?" he questioned, pulling his pants and button up shirt on.

"It's perfectly fine," she assured. "Just a small cut. Buzzy's still a little upset, though. I suppose that's what I get for being the offspring of Herb Brooks."

"I don't think anyone blames you," he said. "They'd have to be insane, for a while you were right there with us."

"Damn it," she started.

"What?" he asked as though he was sure it was something important.

"I've been handing out massages for nothing," she jested.

"Let me see your hand," he urged. She held her left hand out; he traced the light scratch on her palm, then gave it a little kiss. "Better or worse?" He asked.

"Better," she said with a bright smile. He smiled as he went to put his tie on, that was really a great smile.

"Let me," she urged, taking his tie. "See if I can remember. Around, up, over, and through. Taadaa! Now, tell me, where's it hurt?"

"Here," he motioned to the nape of his neck. She smiled slyly and stood up on her toes to give him a little kiss there. "And here," he added, touching his temple lightly, and leaned over so she could give him a peck there. "Here," he continued, and touched his lips. She closed her eyes and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Better or worse?" She asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Perfect," he answered, leaning over to kiss her again and again and again. Kissing her lips, and eyes, and brow, like it there was nothing better in the world; like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hands moved from her face, to her arms, to her body through the intensity of it.

Nicolette had always worried that her first real kiss would have been hesitant in awkward, but now that it was actually happening she wasn't worried about anything at all. She had imagined moonlit walks, and romantic evenings, and thought about how anything else would be all wrong, but here she was in a locker room, kissing a hockey player who couldn't find the net. The rest of the world disappeared, and everything just fell perfectly into place.

Waiting on the bus most of the boys were pulled from private conversations by the declaration of: "Holy shit, you've got to be kidding me." They looked over to Mac, gazing out the window.

"What is it?" Rammer asked. Jimmy Craig looked out the window for an answer.

"It's Nikki and Rizzo," he gaped. There was a chorus of "What," as the boys rushed over to see what was going on.

Nikki had her arm slipped around Mike; he had his hand on her back. She leaned against him as they walked to the bus.

"My dad is crazy," she admitted shyly.

"You don't have to tell me," he assured her.

"No, I actually think he may be a crazy person. I thought he was actually going to kill you back there, I was just waiting for someone to fall over dead, and I wasn't even sure it wasn't going to be me."

"He's not insane," he said giving her a slight hug. "He's just eccentric. And no one is going to die playing hockey; the A.H.A simply will not allow it. Can you imagine the news headline? 'Olympic Hockey Team Dies During Herbies'." She smiled at his light-hearted tone of voice.

"How do you make me feel so good?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "Apparently I have that effect on people." He gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, shoving his bag into the cargo space under the bus.

"I love it when you kiss me," she said. "Because I don't think about anything but keeping it in my head, to look back on later. Like for a moment you wish life had a rewind button, so you could live it again." She smiled that same sweet smile she loved.

"I am just going to smile and pretend I actually understood a word of what just came out of your mouth," he teased gently. She laughed.

"That's what happens when the Brookes try and get poetic," she cooed. As they got on the bus all the boys pointedly turned away.

"What's going on here?" Rizzo asked in perplexity.

"We weren't looking at anything," Pav returned. Bah gave him a dissatisfied look and hit him upside the head.

"Right," Rizzo observed as the coaches came on board, taking the front seats. "You want window seat?" He asked Nikki motioning to the pair of chairs behind the coaches. She nodded in thanks slipping in before him as the bus started for the airport.

Silk and O.C. watched from a few rows back.

"If coach finds out about this," O.C. said. "Our asses are his, you understand that right?"

"Do you think," Dave started leaning into the isle. "Buzzy!" he hissed, up to where Buzz sat behind Nicolette and Rizzo. "What are they doing?" Buzz peered up to where Mike and Nikki were seated.

"It's a little chilly in here," Nicolette observed. Rizzo pulled his jacket off and draped it around her.

"Here," he offered and flipped the hood up on her head, he laughed as it spiked up from where her pony tail was. "You look like a cone head."

"Do you mean my head is pointy, or I look like Bah and Pav and all?" Buzz's eyes narrowed. Would it have been that hard to say: Bah, Pav, and Buzz, no he was just 'and all.'

"He gave her his jacket," Buzzy murmured back to them, "And she's insulting me." He looked back to find them in mid-lip lock, his eyes bugged out slightly as he swung back around hissing: "They're kissing!"

"Well break it up," O.C. ordered. Buzz grimaced in apprehension for a minute before leaning up between the seats.

"Hey Rizzo, you got the time?" He asked quickly. Nicolette yelped in surprise as they pulled away from one another.

"Uh, no," Rizzo answered. "I don't have a watch."

"Oh, well, that's okay," he said. "Thanks anyway. You know Nikki if you want to kick your seat back and get some sleep go right ahead."

"I'm alright Buzz, thanks," she assured him as she leaned up against Mike and started to drift into sleep as it began to rain. Mike closed his eyes and set his head on top of hers. Buzz grimaced turning back to O.C. and Silky.

"They're sleeping," he whispered.

"Spill something on his pants," Silky instructed deviously.

"Yea, like what?" Buzz demanded in frustration, when Jannie tossed him a water bottle and gave him a thumbs up. "God he's going to murder me." Buzz started, unscrewing the top of the bottle, and with much reluctance, dumped it over Mike's head.

"Jesus!" Rizzo started up, waking Nicolette in the process. He glared at Buzz, water bottle in hand. "What is with you today?" He demanded in frustration.

"Devil made me do it," Buzz replied pointing back at Silk and O'Callahan.

"Devil needs to be more inconspicuous," Nikki said, not fond of being awakened from her nap.

"Or find better henchmen," Mike added, moving over next to Suter for a dry seat.

"Sorry," Buzz admitted. After things had settled back down, Herb got up and moved next to his daughter.

"You were sitting with Rizzo," Coach observed. "Why did he move? Did he say...or do something he shouldn't have?"

"Dad, you shouldn't sit there," she suggested.

"Can't I have a talk with my daughter?"

"The reason Mike moved, is that O.C. and Silky had Buzzy pour water on him," Nikki answered.

"Oh," Herb started, finally noticing the water soaking into his pants. "Alright then, if you need me I'm right here."

[1] Pun intended...heheheh...watch me laugh at my own joke.

[2] No pun intended...or is it?