CHAPTER 4

Rikki opened the door immediately. He was talking into a small cell phone, and the table behind him was covered in papers, stationary supplies and the remnants of breakfast. Rikki flashed a white-toothed smile at Alex, and motioned for him to come in, while navigating behind the large, stainless steel desk.

Forcing his putty-like legs to move, he walked into the small room Rikki had claimed as his office. It had been an unused space, high in the plane, with walls at strange intervals, and an odd shaped ceiling, making it difficult for storage.

Alex eyed the bolted-down chair across from Rikki. Picking up the papers that were resting on the seat and setting them down on the already overly cluttered desk, leaving sweaty, yellow-gray fingerprints on the pristine sheets.

His stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and he sensed that if he had dared to eat breakfast, he probably would have thrown it up by now. In fact, he couldn't remember being so nervous in all his life. Remembering the time he had first competed on live television, millions of people watching –it was the same feeling.

He sunk into the chair, doubting if his knees would have held up any longer anyway. He swallowed hard; his mouth had gone dry again for the second time that day, and the palms of his hands were soaked with sweat. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Normally, he wouldn't be this nervous about talking to someone if he had done something to his girlfriend, (a regular occasion, he was ashamed to admit, as more than one woman had lied to him about being single in order to get into his bed) but this was Rikki. One of his teammates; his best friends. Part of his family.

His family. One of the things he treasured most in the world. What if the event last night cost him his only real family? What if one little screw-up took all he had? His career, his pride and his friends. Gone.

A scary thought, a very scary thought.

He still had no idea how he was going to break it to Rikki. The melodramatic manager was a high-strung, nervous type, but not usually prone to bouts of anger. But everyone had their points, and Alex had no experience in knowing of this was one of them. There had never been a situation like this before.

Taking a deep steadying gasp, he wiped his palms, on his denim-covered thighs. A small click was heard, proving Rikki was done on the phone.

Forcing himself to look up, he evaluated Rikki's friendly, guileless smile, which made his eyes crinkle. "Hey, Alex! What's up?"

"Rikki…" Deep breaths. "I need to talk to you."

The manager's dark, soft eyes pinned him to the chair. "I assume that's why you're here." The tone was amused.

The most he could manage was a weak chuckle. "Yeah…" Alex trailed off, his throat dry and his tongue felt like was covered in wallpaper paste. Looking down at his hands, he took a deep breath, "It's about… Fidget."

An ebony eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

Oh god, this was hard. His throat burned and his stomach twisted. He started to run his tongue along his teeth, before biting down on it.

"Yes." Hardly a breath.

Rikki said nothing, and Alex couldn't bring himself to either. The silence spiraled so horribly that Alex wanted to say something. The problem was, he didn't know what.

"Well?" Rikki folded his hands together on the surface between them, intertwining his fingers. There was impatience in the voice now, and the golden-skinned brow was knitted.

He started to shake; a steady trembling, snaking it's way up from his toes and shimmying its way up his spine. Rikki's face seemed to melt into a dark blob, the word whirling and twirling, as seen through his dazed eyes and he bit his bottom lip, while staring off into space. "I… uh…"

"Spit it out, already!" The playful tone wasn't quite enough to hide the annoyed bite to the statement.

Summoning up his courage he took the plunge, "Like I said, it's about Fidget."

Badly hidden irritation, now. "You got that point across already."

Taking yet another deep breath, he looked Rikki in the face, meeting his eyes. Here goes nothing… and everything. "Last night, while you and Grinder were--"

"RIKKI!" A distinctly feminine voice, followed by thumping footsteps and a loud banging on the door.

"Speak of the devil," muttered Rikki, half-heartedly.

Oh no. Oh nnononononono.

Now he was definitely going to be sick.

The door then banged open at that moment, revealing a small, slim woman, with a temper to match her hair. She didn't even spare a glance at Alex, fixing her eyes on Rikki instead. "We need to talk," she said through clenched teeth, her fists balled up at her side. "Now," she added with robust.

Alex took that as a clue that this was about to turn into a battle-field, and leapt up out of his chair, desperately, desperately needing to get out of there. He swung his body out around and caught a glimpse of Fidget out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were glittering dangerously, her cheeks flushed with anger, and loose strands of her hair hung around her face.

As wildly beautiful as she looks when she's angry, I don't want to be around for the vocal demonstration that comes with it.

He rose to his feet, then shakily walked over to the door, looking at Fidget, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak, (a first) in her rage, but kept her eyes fixed on the unfortunate manager. He straightened his posture and walked out the door, shutting it behind him with one hand, relived to have made it out in time.

Just before the screaming started, anyway.

Fidget's (or so he naturally assumed) words (once again, an assumption) were distorted by the metal door, and Alex couldn't make any of the conversation out.

Deciding that it was best to wait until the (faux spontaneous) storm passed to talk to Rikki, Alex let out a sigh as he descended the stairs to the affectionately named, 'rumpus room'.

Flopping onto one of the long couches, Alex noted Vinnie lounging on his favorite blanket. Reaching out a hand to pet the team's mascot, in that place just behind his left leg, he let out a sigh.

"Nothing is ever easy."

TBC