Disclaimer - I do not own anything even remotely related to The Mighty Ducks. I only wish I had thought of them first…
Italics indicate character thought.
With the passage of time came a more settled life for Beau, Charlie, and the rest of the gang. Fulton was still playing for the Hurricanes, but there was talk of him being traded. It didn't seem to faze him though, but only Beau and Charlie knew that it was because he was in the process of looking for rings for Rachel. Beau couldn't imagine a more perfect husband for her friend.
Guy was still teaching and was nearing the end of the school year with a third place hockey team and some great state test scores for his kids. He and Connie, of course, were still as amazing as ever. Beau kept asking, not so subtly, when Guy was planning to propose. Every time he would just roll his eyes, tell her to mind her own business, and then explain that Connie wasn't ready for marriage. She didn't see her self doing "those kinds of things" until she was a little older. Guy was happy to wait for as long as it would take.
Charlie was doing as well as ever for his team, working hard and making the big plays. He had recently signed endorsement deals with both Easton and Nike and he was getting ready to make a big name for himself. Beau thought it was great and Charlie thought it was the weirdest thing in the world.
Cole had recovered completely from his accident, with only a few bumps and bruises and a slight blip on his memory to show for the scare. He still wasn't starting for the Maple Leafs, but there were some who would say, his coaches included, that he had what it would take to be a star. Time would only tell. The important part, though, was that he was immensely happy.
Devin was adjusting well to California and had started practice with his new high school team. They weren't great, but it was proving to be a good learning experience for him. He was getting the experience of having to work hard and how to deal with loses. He was still struggling to find himself in a world where he didn't have a mother, but he was coming into his own, and his relationship with his father was growing.
Beau was finishing up the first draft of TMD #6: Coach Gordon and Team USA and she was fairly pleased with it. It turned out that Luis, Russ and the others had taken up residence in her brain just as the others had and she found them easy to write as well. Now she was just passing the time until her editor got done with it and until the premier of the movie, "The Mighty Ducks."
And Adam Banks…well Adam Banks was getting ready for his second date with Kimball.
Second dates are the worst. Adam was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, and his hands gripping either side of the sink. The first date had gone well, despite the fact that it was cut short by Jason the Jerk calling and demanding that Kimball come back to work to help edit a piece on the Angels that would run the following morning.
Adam was breathing deeply, trying to slow down the obnoxiously fast beat of his heart and still the giant lump in his stomach, but now he looked up and rolled his eyes at his reflection. Get a grip, dork. It's just a date. He quirked a sarcastic smile. Just a second date that will completely solidify her opinion of me and make it very clear if she's only going out with me because she feels obligated. He took another deep breath, grabbing his deodorant from the shelf over the toilet and slapping it on. Get it under control, Banks. What are you, fifteen?
At that he smiled, thinking back to his very first date ever. He had been beyond nervous getting ready to take Julie to the movies. And then he had gotten there and walking to the theatre the sky had opened up and they had been drenched. His first kiss had been under a tree in the thunder and lightening, Julie's hair stuck to her face and them both laughing. "Hmm." Interesting how that relationship, one that had changed him immensely, also started in a torrential downpour.
Staring at himself again, he threw some goop into his hair, making a mental note that it really needed cut. Should have done it before tonight, Adam. He hurried into his room, feeling the clock glaring at him, and threw on his clothes. He sat down at the end of his bed to slide on his shoes and then took one last look at himself in the mirror before heading out the door at a jog. If he didn't hurry he was going to be a few minutes late. What kind of impression does that make? Laughing at himself he slid into his SUV, letting the sunroof slide open. There's that cake-eater etiquette Charlie is always talking about.
Kimball was pacing the balcony of her apartment, not quite sure why she was so nervous. Uh, maybe because he's a famous athlete, Kimball. She rolled her eyes and dashed inside to stand in front of the mirror again, smoothing her skirt and grimacing. Why is it you like an outfit when you buy it and the first twenty times you wear it, but then you put it on for a date and you feel ridiculous? She turned sideways, looking at her butt critically. Whatever. It's too late to change now.
As the thought entered her mind, there was a knock at her door and she breathed in deep, letting it out slowly and trying to get her heartbeat under control. Here goes.
When she opened the door, Adam forgot every worry in his head. He forgot about if he was dressed okay. He forgot about his nerves. Hell, he practically forgot his name.
Like the first several times that they had met, his eyes were immediately drawn to her fiery hair, falling in curls all around her shoulders. She was wearing a knee length skirt that seemed reminiscent of the 50's to him and was all sorts of teals and brown. Her slim waist seemed even more accentuated by the form-fitting brown tank top and a little sequined shrug she wore over it. Despite the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off of her, he still had time to register that it was more than a little scary that he even knew that the little shirt was called a shrug. He could blame Beau later. He had never seen a girl wear a brown shirt before and look good in it, but the dark color on Kimball's pale skin was staggering.
He was made aware that he was staring when she self-consciously smoothed a hand over her stomach and turned bright red. He shook his head, his skin mirroring the tone of hers, and smiled apologetically.
"Hi."
"I just need to get my shoes." He noticed with a small smile that she was bare-footed. Cute. She smiled and took a step back, gesturing him into her foyer and as he made his way in, it was Adam's turn to feel her gaze taking in how he looked.
Kimball was trying not to stare, but when Adam was standing in front of you he made it pretty damn hard. He was wearing perfectly distressed jeans, the denim looking soft to the touch, that hugged his hips and then slid loosely to the floor mostly covering his Pumas.
When she forced her eyes to slide back up to his face, they stopped to take in the white dress shirt with pale blue and teal vertical strips. The sleeves were rolled up a bit and it was all she could do not to bite her lips when her vision landed on his tanned and muscular forearms.
His hair was a little longer than the last time she had seen him, and it still hung over his forehead in blond strands. His face was tan too, surprising her considering how much time he spend indoors and his hazel eyes were shining as he smiled at her. The worst part was that Kimball knew she was staring and couldn't stop herself. She couldn't remember a time that she had been so physically attracted to someone.
Seeing that she was also gawking, Adam smiled and cleared his throat, sticking his hands into his back pockets and nudging the door shut with his foot.
"Wanna grab those shoes?" As she laughed a little and turned on her heel, he followed her into the living room and smiled around. He nodded when she said she'd be just a moment and occupied himself by roaming around the space, trying to get a better picture of who exactly Kimball McGillicuddy was.
He was reading the titles on her book shelf and figuring that she and Beau would have plenty to talk about when he realized she would need pants later in the night if he was to stick to his plan for the evening. Calling over his shoulder he wondered subconsciously why he was already thinking if she would get along with his friends. It wasn't quite time for that, was it?
"Kimball?"
"Mmm hmmm?" He voice was small and he got more than a little smile out of picture her halfway lost inside her closet trying to decide on a pair of shoes.
"Do you want to take a pair of jeans? You may want them later."
He had figured that she would question the request, but she simply hummed an affirmation and went back to whatever she was doing.
Where are my shoes? Suppressing a small scream of frustration Kimball dove deeper into her closet and threw heels here and there. This is what happens when you're a scatter brain and don't lay things out a head of time, Red. Finally, in the very back of her closet she found the light brown heels she had been searching for.
"Socks too!" Adam was hollering at her from her living room and she thought it was the cutest thing that she had ever heard in her life. Why am I already so comfortable with him?
Hefting her jeans (and socks) in her arms she slid into the shoes and took a step towards the hallway before swinging back in front of the mirror for one last look. She fixed several out of place hairs and took a deep breath. Go on, girl, she thought to herself. Go get him.
They were traveling down the road with the wind coming through the sunroof. Out of the corner of his eye Adam saw Kimball's hair whipping around and with a look of annoyance she yanked a long stick out of her purse, twisting her hair in some weird fashion and securing it – God knows how – with that one little stick. He moved his hand toward the center console.
"I'm sorry. I didn't even think about your hair being in your face. I'll close the roof."
She stopped him with a quick brush of her hand over his and they both shivered with slight goose bumps. "No, it's fine. I would have pulled it up later anyway. I can only stand it down for an hour or so before it's driving me crazy." When he laughed a little she settled back into her seat, letting the conversation flow naturally. "Besides, I would imagine with all of your practices and games you probably enjoy the occasional chance to be outside in the natural air."
How weird of her to get that. Adam smiled in surprise at her. "Yeah actually."
The restaurant was quaint, quiet, and Kimball thought, perfect. The California Country Café was modest and set back on a small side street but there was clearly a demand for tables. When Adam followed her in the door, he smiled broadly at the host who he would later reveal as the owner.
"Mr. Banks!" The man stuck out his hand and they shook warmly.
"How's it going, Giani? This is Kimball McGillicuddy."
"It's a pleasure, Bella. Business is good. We're glad to have you in tonight. It's been too long!"
Adam nodded in affirmation, nodding for Kimball to follow the man as he drug out two menus. He settled his hand in the small of her back, gently guiding her through the small space and out onto a covered patio overlooking the water. "I've had a lot of out of town games lately, but I have really missed that great French Onion soup you make. Tell me it's on the menu today." He leveled a serious look on the man and moved to pull out Kimball's seat.
Kimball enjoyed watching the easy way that Adam interacted with the owner of the restaurant. He was comfortable, which he had most definitely not been on their first date when a lone member of the paparazzi had tailed them coming out of a well known Los Angeles eatery snapping pictures until they finally just decided to go home.
She settled back as he sat down and smiled. "This restaurant is a little more your speed, huh?"
He grinned, offering her napkin to her. "Definitely. I had thought after all this time I would get used to people staring, but I guess I'm just not suited to the fame issue."
After ordering drinks and appetizers he leaned his elbow on the table. "So you said you wanted to be on-air talent. A sports reporter?"
Not able to help it, Kimball snorted, getting a big gulp of water down her windpipe instead of her throat. When she finally quit coughing she laughed again. "Are you kidding? I know nothing about sports. Nor do I really care." When he raised his eyebrows she nodded her head in acquiescence. "Present company excluded, of course."
He nodded, sitting back. "Of course."
"I work with Jason because that was where I could get a high profile assignment." She rolled her eyes. "Of course I thought I'd be doing more actual reporting work and less coffee fetching, but everyone pays their dues, right?" She looked out over the horizon, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "Dream job: hard hitting news anchor interviewing politicians and the people who are making history. But that's a long way off." She turned her attention back to him, blushing at the way he was smiling at her. "What about you? Was hockey always in the cards?"
He laughed genuinely at that. It had been a long time since he had met someone who didn't know his history. It was refreshing. "Oh yeah. I've played hockey for as long as I can remember. My dad played, my mom was a hockey mom – who are way worse than soccer moms, by the way – and pretty much all of my closest friends played in either high school, college, or are playing pro now."
She looked surprised. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "Seriously. My best friend in the world is Charlie Conway who plays for the Detroit Red Wings." She looked at him blankly and he laughed again. "It's a professional hockey team."
She bobbed her head seriously, taking it in. "Gotcha." She knit her brow. "What about female friends? Certainly you have some of those."
He smiled, thinking of his three closest girl-friends, knowing she would think it was crazy. "I do indeed. There's Julie and Connie, who I played with in middle school and high school and who both play in a pro women's league now. And then there's Beau, Charlie's girlfriend. We played together for two years in college." He thought about how it must sound and grinned at her. "It's a little ridiculous, really."
"I feel a little sick sitting in this parking spot." Kimball was staring straight ahead very clearly envisioning the first time she had met Adam, standing in the rain amidst the plastic of Jason's headlights on the ground.
Adam laughed, poking her leg and pointing at the door. "Get out."
She did, still warily eyeing the spot outside the ice arena where she had wrecked her boss' car. "What on earth are we doing here, Adam?"
Taking her hand, and receiving chills up his arm, he pulled her towards the towering building. "Well, we're not here to relive the fateful day we met. But, you just seem so clueless about the entire world of hockey – and sports in general - I thought I'd show you why I love it so much." He looked nervous. "But you deal with sports all day, so if this is like a nightmare for you, just say so and we can do something else."
Touched, Kimball squeezed his hand a little tighter and moved a step closer as she followed him in the door and down a dimly lit hallway. "I think I'll enjoy it a great deal, Adam."
Kimball had never worn a pair of ice skates in her entire life. Now in her jeans and a light coat that Adam had pulled out of his locker, she sat on a long bench and smiled down at Adam as he kneeled on the floor, lacing her skates up. He smiled shyly from under the pieces of hair that fell across his forehead and then stood, offering her his hand. "All done."
He backed onto the ice before her and smiled, watching her concentrate very seriously on getting her 'ice legs' as he liked to call them. She was surprisingly graceful and it took only a moment of wobbling before she was able to look up and follow him slowly.
They made their way carefully to the blue line and Kimball found it nearly impossible to take her eyes off of Adam. He stopped, facing her, his head tilted up. "I love it when it's like this. Quiet." He looked around at the thousands of empty seats. "There's a smell to the ice." He watched at Kimball crinkled her nose, trying to smell it. He could see that she did when a smile spread slowly across her face. "I feel like my heartbeat slows down and everything else in the world just drowns out when I slide across the ice."
She slid her feet back and forth, turning her head to follow him as he moved in a slow circle around her. "It's part of you."
He stopped short, surprised to hear her say words that he had thought so many times about himself. "It could be any rink in the world. It still feels like home." He was looking around at the seats again, a little embarrassed about explaining it in the way that he had, when she spoke, her voice closer.
"This is the best second date I've ever been on, Adam." She stretched up, kissing his cheek. She looked at him seriously, hoping he understood the weight of her words. Second dates were by far the scariest. She punctuated each word for emphasis. "The best."
antiIrony: Thanks as always. I like that saying a lot.
Sinbin05: Thanks! Welcome back. I'm really thrilled to hear what you had to say about the characterization of Adam. I've been so nervous about it!
Katie: No. You. Rock. Haha Thank you so much. I'm flattered you've kept up with Beau and Charlie. Good luck with finals!
Cc: Yikes. That's going to be a lot of paper! Two weeks, huh? I better finish it before then. I think I will. Definitely!
Duckfluff: I'm glad you love everyone. I think Guy and Charlie probably rank as my favorites, although Beau is very close to my heart. As for Bombay, you can expect a cameo soon!
Paula: I love Guy too. Thanks for the support!
AdoptedThug: Will do. Thanks!