Author's Notes: I forgot to put a disclaimer on chapter 1, but I figured most of y'all are smart enough to realize that I do not own the Mighty Ducks nor ever have. Consider this story disclaimed.

Ch 2. – Now a Little Crush Turned Into a Like

A week later, Portman was about ready to kill himself. Well, figuratively. He laid his head on his desk in despair.

"Mr. Portman, can I see you after class?" his French teacher asked handing back his quiz. It was the third he'd failed in a row. Why did this damn preppy school require a foreign language? And why hadn't he taken Spanish with Fulton? Girls like French, he'd said, and then he'd signed up for Spanish. Little bitch.

Finally, the end of period bell rang and Dean dragged his ass up to the teacher's desk. Madame Leclarc eyed him over her thick glasses.

"Dean, we have got to do something about your grades."

"You're telling me." Orion had already threatened to bench him if he failed one more quiz.

"What can I do to help?"

He just shrugged. None of it made sense to him. "Give the tests in English?" Madame Leclarc just gave him that tight lipped stare that meant 'I mean business, so stop clowning around.'

"What if I got you a tutor?"

Dean made a face, but nodded slowly. "It's usually hard to find one that can fit with my schedule. I mean last year with geometry I went through three simply because of hockey practices."

The honors class had started filing in while they were still talking. Suddenly Madame Leclarc's eyes lit up. "I just had a brilliant idea! Mademoiselle Gaffney, viens ici s'il te plaît."

His heart dropped into his stomach as he heard the teacher say Julie's name. No, no nonono, he prayed silently. Anyone but her.

"Oui, Madame Leclarc." Julie eyed Dean nervously, unconsciously bringing her fingers up to her lips. The teacher switched back to English, obviously to include Dean in the conversation.

"Mademoiselle Gaffney, your teammate is in a bit of a situation with his grades." Dean smiled sheepishly, and it made Julie's mouth dry up. Stop being such a girl, she reprimanded herself. It's just Dean…Portman. It's just Portman.

"He needs a tutor. And given your similar practice schedules, and your competency, I was hoping you could take the job."

Julie gave a strained little laugh. "I don't know if that's the best idea…"

"One more failed quiz, and Orion's going to bench me Cat-lady."

"Are you serious, Dean?" He nodded, ashamed he hadn't asked for help before it got to this point. Julie sighed and tried to calm her nerves. "Well, I can't leave a Duck out in the cold."

"Then it's settled. I'll leave you two to set up study times." Madame Leclarc began writing Dean a hall pass for his next class. Julie turned to head back to her seat, but Dean caught her by the arm.

"I really appreciate it." He looked right in her eyes and she blushed.

"It's no problem Dean." God, she hoped he couldn't feel the goose bumps on her arm right now.

"See you after practice tonight?"

"Yeah, that'll work. I don't have too much homework tonight."

-----------

They didn't really speak at hockey practice. Orion had Julie and Goldberg, still the second string goalie, doing some drills away from the rest of the Ducks, so no one even noticed the tension between the two.

The team did, however, notice how distracted Portman was. And that he didn't make any perverted jokes when Connie's skate got stuck in the side board as she was climbing out of the team's box. Fulton, ever cautious, didn't say a word to his 'brother from another mother' until they got back to their room. Averman, on the other hand, made some remark about a "cat having his tongue" and was promptly sent sprawling. The other Ducks figured that whatever was distracting him couldn't be that bad.

When Orion finally had enough of their antics, he blew his whistle and dismissed the team. He really couldn't blame them for their half-hearted practicing, since they hadn't played a real game in over a month and a half, and the season wouldn't start again until September, but he wasn't about to let them get out of shape either. He reprimanded both Portman and Mendoza for their sub par practice. Unfortunately for Luis, he was still rather scrawny, so he was the only one that caught flack in the locker room.

As soon as they'd put their pads away, the girls kicked the boys out so that they could shower. When Julie literally put her foot to Charlie's ass to push him out the door, Connie noticed she was being a little more forceful than usual. It was when Julie started making sure that no one was coming back in that she cleared her throat.

"Julie! What is with you today?"

Julie sighed, knowing she was in trouble. Connie was her best friend, and even more than that, she loved to ferret out secrets. "Nothing, really. The guys were being extra perverted today, that's all."

Connie raised an eyebrow as she turned on the water in her stall. "Whatever, Portman didn't even say a word at practice when Charlie was giving him all of that 'way to go Banks' ammo."

"Do you seriously think those two are sleeping together?" Julie yelled over the spray of her own shower.

"No. They wouldn't ever..I mean, not in high school anyway. Why? Do you…Oh, nice try Jules. It's the 'let's distract Connie' game now, huh?" Julie made a face and rinsed soap out of her hair. She didn't really expect Connie to have fallen for that, but there was always hope.

"Connie, listen, it's nothing big, I promise. It's not like I lost my virginity or anything."

"Okay, now I have to play the 'read between the lines game'. I know you wouldn't lie to me, so you are still a virgin. But you didn't say 'it's not like I'm getting kicked off the team or something' so this is probably about sex."

Julie groaned as she heard her friend get out of the shower. Why'd she have to say that? "This is not about sex!"

"So you didn't have sex, but you…gave someone a blow job?"

"NO!" Julie grabbed her towel and stormed over to her bag.

"Come on, Julie. If you tell me, I'll stop guessing…"

Connie pulled a tight blue tee-shirt on over her head. "No response. So you…made out with someone?"

Julie blushed and tried to make a noncommittal noise, but Connie was not about to be fooled by that. She knew her friend too well.

"Julie Gaffney, I do declare!" Connie fanned herself with her comb, the very picture of a Minnesotan southern debutant. "You kissed a bo-ay? On tha mouth?"

"Oh shut up!" Julie threw a sock at her friend. "So what if I did anyway, you're always making out with Guy."

Connie tossed the sock back at her. "So, who is it?"

Julie just slumped into her locker half dressed. "Please, please, please don't ask Connie, it's too embarrassing."

"Well, is he ugly?"

"No." Julie gave her friend a pitiful look. "He's really hot."

"Is he a complete nerd?"

"No, the exact opposite."

"Then is he dumb as a brick?"

"No," Julie whimpered. Connie was gonna drag it out of her, like she always did.

"Then what do you have to be embarrassed about?" Connie scooted next to her best friend and gave her a tight hug.

"I don't want to like Dean!" Julie whined, leaning her head on the brunette's shoulder. "He's rude and perverted and a total player who always gets what he wants from girls!"

Connie nodded slowly, trying to think of ways to comfort her friend. "On the upside though, Portman is really really hot."

-----------

Dean had practically jogged back to his dorm room, and as much as Fulton hated any pace above a casual stroll, he stuck determinedly by his friend's side. As soon as they got in the room, Dean began throwing clothes and papers and half eaten sandwiches into his closet and under the beds. Fulton just stared at the frenzy that was Portman in a trance.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?"

He heard the words "cat," "French," and "work" before he gave up trying to figure his friend out. Long ago he'd figured out that people were willing to talk to him as long as he stuck around let them go at their own speed.

"Whatever Portman, I'ma take a shower."

That stopped the taller boy in his tracks. "What? No, you can't shower, I need to shower! Julie said she was going to come by after practice so we could go over my French homework."

"And I can't shower…why?"

"Because I need to. She's going to be here in like, fifteen minutes."

Fulton rolled his eyes and grabbed his towel. "If you were anyone else, I'd tell you to fuck off. I'll go shower at Charlie's."

"I owe you big time."

"Sure, sure," Fulton grumbled on his way out the door.

Dean quickly finished his cleaning and got into the shower. It was just tutoring and she was just Julie. So why was he forcing himself to calm down like this was the third period of a championship game? It was just Julie!

But that was the problem in a nutshell. Julie was someone he'd never even dreamed of being attracted to. She was his friend, his teammate. He didn't really know her; she was a lot closer to Connie and Banks than she was to him. She was a good student, and he wasn't. She came from a good family, he didn't.

Dean rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and leaned against the tile of he shower. He was just going to have to forget the whole thing ever happened. He didn't want to end up like Connie and Guy, fighting all the time during the season and trying to make up for it the rest of the year. Instead, he'd just concentrate on getting his grades up. He'd tell Julie that he'd have Guy tutor him, and that she could…avoid him, or whatever.

Lost in his thoughts, Dean didn't hear the knock at the door. After the second knock, Julie tried the knob. The room was unlocked, so she cautiously let herself in. She heard the shower running and tried not to think about either of the Bash Brothers in there. Fulton was just not her type and Dean…well, he was just too much of her type at the moment. Those kinds of thoughts needed to just keep out of her brain.

"Huh," she mused aloud, "You can actually see the floor in here."

She wandered over to the stereo, thumbing through CDs, mostly heavy metal and classic rock. Leaning over to look some cover art more closely, Julie accidentally hit the 'play' button with her elbow. The music that blasted out of the speakers was so loud that it made her ears hurt as she scrambled for the stop button.

"Goddammit Fult, you better not be messing up my CDs again!" Dean burst out of the bathroom holding a towel around his waist. "I spent fifteen minutes reorganizing…"

Julie whipped around, her drying hair sticking to the lip gloss she'd borrowed from Connie…for the sheer pleasure of wearing lip gloss, and no other reason, if anyone dared to ask.

"Hey," she mumbled, barely able to take her eyes off his chest. Why did he have to be hot?

"Hey." She looked good, even in a baggy tee-shirt. Her lips looked extra kissable today. Without thinking, Dean crossed the few feet between them and brushed the hair out of her face.

God, she couldn't even look him in the eye. What kind of tough hockey playing tomboy was she? Julie put her hands up, intending to push him back, but Dean saw the movement and it broke his reverie.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…"

Julie shook her head. "No big deal. You, uh, organize your CDs?" Anything to keep from touching him.

"Yeah," Dean smiled, feeling a little ridiculous, "They're in alphabetical order."

Grinning, Julie poked him in the chest. "Careful, or you'll end up a neat-freak like me."

"Oh, I could only ever aspire to your level of neatness Kitty Cat. I bet you sleep with a label maker at night," he teased, poking her shoulder in return.

"I do not!" She crossed her arms indignantly. "And even if I did, at least it's far more sanitary than sleeping with leftover pizza!" She poked him again, a little bit harder.

"Whoa, you trying to hurt me Cat Lady? 'Cause you know I'm poke-proof."

A sly grin spread across her face and she raised an eyebrow. "You might be poke-proof Dean Portman, but no one is tickle-proof!" Julie's reflexes were faster than Dean's and she managed to glue her fingers to the vulnerable spot above his hips.

Still holding onto his towel, Dean desperately fought to keep her off of him. He sunk to his knees laughing, and the relentless Julie followed.

"Cry for mercy, Dean, and maybe I'll let you live," Julie gloated, fingers flying.

"Never!" Dean choked out. "A Bash Brother never gives in!" Suddenly he wrapped his free arm around her and dragged them both to the floor. They wrestled for a minute before Julie's maneuverability won out over Dean's strength and size. She pinned his arm using both her hands and locked his legs in hers.

"The Cat has achieved another victory! The crowd goes wild!"

Dean scoffed. "If hadn't been almost naked, you wouldn't have had a chance!"

She gulped then, remembering how close their faces were, and how hard his body was underneath hers. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips, which Dean found devastatingly sexy.

"Babe," trying to talk to her, he felt like he was twelve again, "if you don't move, I'm going to kiss you again."

Fuck, she thought, liking the strain in his voice, and pressing her lips to his. Now when she pushed her body against his, it was a molding to and not a power struggle. He slid his hand up her shirt and caressed her lower back as she teased the roof of his mouth with her tongue.

He scraped his teeth across her neck and felt her nipples go hard against his chest. It made him groan and kiss her hard. Julie felt like she was drowning, like she was trying to claw her way out of her skin, like all she wanted was to be closer to Dean; it was enough to make her scream with frustration. She was moving unconsciously, grinding her hips into his, dying for a way to scratch the itch inside her.

"Oh god, Julie, you have to stop doing that," Dean pleaded breathless as she ran her hands up and down his washboard stomach.

"Why? I like it." That devious smile of hers was back. She kissed his collarbone, her tongue flicking out every now and then. He couldn't help but moan. Trying to get control of the situation again, Dean rolled them over, barely managing to keep himself looking decent. Julie squirmed underneath him until his lips covered hers, demanding her attention. Her tee-shirt had ridden up and she could feel his skin rubbing against hers, driving her crazy.

Fulton swung the door open, eating a slice of pizza in one hand and drinking from a coke in the other.

"Portman? Oh, shit, sorry." He nearly tripped over the two bodies trying to untangle themselves on the floor. Dean jumped to his feet his face bright red and grabbed his friend's elbow, escorting him to the door.

"Next time dude, hang something on the door," The long haired Bash Brother told his friend. "And, jesus, hurry up, otherwise Julie's gonna be totally pissed about you ditching tutoring." Looking over his shoulder, he called back, "Hey Jules! Didn't see you there…" The lightbulb was almost visible over Fulton's head. "Oooooohhhhhkay…I'll leave you two alone now." He turned to leave and Dean tightened his grip.

"Dude, don't tell anyone I was with Julie, please." Fulton looked into Dean's eyes and read the seriousness in his expression.

"No worries, bro. You can count on me. But you owe me huge now."

"I know, I know, just…out!"

Fulton retreated down the hall, looking like the cat who ate the canary. Shutting the door, Dean turned back to the goalie still in the room. Julie had shifted up onto the bed and was chewing on her lip. Don't tell anyone he was Julie? What was so bad about being with her?

"I'm, going to, uh, get dressed." She nodded at him, once again nervous to be around him. Why did this always happen to her? Why couldn't she just think of him as a teammate?

Dean grabbed a shirt from under the bed and a pair of ragged pants from the closet and went into the bathroom. He locked the door and sighed. Wasn't he supposed to be forgetting about this whole thing? Why was he such a goddamn fuck up? She was his teammate, his goalie. His eyebrows furrowed as he buckled his belt. Not his at all, that was the point, right? Not even his league.

When he opened the door, Julie felt her heart start pounding in her chest. He came and sat next to her, obviously uncomfortable. The silence hung heavily in the dorm room, and it took Dean lightly touching her hand for Julie to even look up at him.

"Listen, babe, I don't know…"

"Dean, please, stop."

Her blue eyes were a lot darker than he'd seen them before. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.

"I know I'm not your type. And I still want to be your friend, so I'm just going to leave, and I'll see you at practice. If you want, I can talk to Madame for you, find you a tutor."

Shocked, Dean didn't do anything but shake his head. Julie sighed again and slid off the bed. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and walked out of the room. Gripping the edge of his bed, Dean resisted the urge to run after her screaming, "You're wrong! You're so wrong!" But he didn't. Instead he lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think of as many words for stupid as he could.

"Maybe if my list was longer, she could actually like me," he muttered.

----------

Julie wandered in the hall completely lost in thought. She didn't want to head back to her room, because Connie would be there, and she would want to know exactly what had happened.

"This sucks so hard," Julie thought aloud.

"What does?" A voice behind her asked.

Turning around, she saw Adam unlocking his door. "Nothing big," she lied.

Adam shrugged. "You want to come in and not talk about it? I've got soda and movies, and it's Friday night."

Julie hesitated a moment.

"I'm serious, you really don't have to talk about it. I was just hoping for some company. I hate spending Fridays alone."

"Where's Charlie?" She asked following him into the room.

"He had to go eat at his mom's tonight. His aunt's in town, I think. Maybe a cousin or something." Adam kicked some clothes under his bed.

Julie plopped down on Charlie's bed and picked up one of the many championship pictures of the Ducks. This one was from their freshman year. They'd become JV champions after their rocky start that year. She looked so young in that picture. They all did. Well, not Dean, really; he'd always looked older than the rest of them. Acted older, too.

How could she have been so stupid? He probably just thought of her as some damn groupie now. Or worse, he thought of her as nothing more than a teammate to have a little fun with. What if it wasn't fun for him? What if he thought she was a bad kisser? She groaned and lay back, hugging the picture to her chest.

"So what do you want to watch?"

Julie looked over at Adam, who was staring at his rather sizable collection.

"Feel good comedy or action-adventure?"

"Whatever you feel like."

"Help a guy out here. Comedy or action?"

"Comedy, I guess."

Adam plucked 'Mall Rats' from the shelf and popped it into the VCR. He tossed Julie a Dr. Pepper, which she snagged out of the air effortlessly, just what he'd expect from Julie the Cat. But he could still see the distraction in her eyes, but he'd already promised not to pry. Focusing on the TV, he fast forwarded through the previews, and settled into his pillows, ready for a long, silent night.

"Adam?" Julie piped up over the opening credits. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

He glanced at his friend laying on the bed across from him. "You're a very pretty hockey player, Julie."

"Oh." So everyone saw her as some big butch hockey player. Yeah, she was taller than average, and yeah, she was muscular, but it wasn't like she looked like a boy! Or maybe she really did, and Adam was trying not to hurt her feelings.

Adam sighed. "What I mean, Jules, is that you're not pretty like the cheerleaders are. You don't wear make up, you don't dye your hair, do your nails or dress like a slut. But you're pretty, a natural pretty, like you know who you are and don't need to cover it up."

"Really?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die."

"You like me, right Adam?"

"I would say that, what with us being friends and all." He laughed. This conversation was getting over his head.

"Well, I mean, if you like me, and you think I'm pretty, why haven't you asked me out?"

Adam was silent for awhile, taken completely off guard. He wasn't ready to tell her the truth. He wasn't ready to tell any of the Ducks.

"Do you really want to go out with me?"

The tables had turned. "No, I mean, not really. I'm just confused," she said softly. "I feel like…like no one gets me, gets the whole 'girl hockey player' thing. I haven't had a boyfriend since Scooter because they all think I'm a lesbian or something."

"Jules, you're smart, pretty, and can easily take on a guy twice your size. Most guys find that pretty intimidating. Plus," and Adam's face fell, remembering, "from what I heard, Scooter slammed you pretty hard as the 'bitch who wouldn't put out'."

Julie snorted in disbelief. "Maybe if he was a better kisser, he would've had a shot. A very, very miniscule one."

"There's the Cat I know." He smiled at her and finally got one in return. "Seriously Julie, if some asshole doesn't like you because you play hockey, he's not good enough to date a Duck."

Yeah, but what if he is one, she thought silently.

A couple hours later, Fulton found his best friend laying on his bed, staring upwards. He looked up as well, trying to figure out what was so interesting.

"Portman, are you high?"

"No," he grunted. "Just moronic."

Fulton raised an eyebrow. "Okay…moronic?"

"Idiotic, imbecilic, immature, juvenile, you know, stupid."

"Right…so I guess 'tutoring' didn't go well?"

"You could say that." Dean pushed himself up so that he could see what Fulton was doing. "She ran out of here right after you left."

Fulton grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels. "I thought you two were gonna go at it until curfew."

"She thinks I don't like her," his friend sighed.

Canned laughter filled the silence of the room as Fulton settled on 'Home Improvement.'

"You're a player, Portman. Most girls find out the hard way that you don't really like them."

"But she's Julie!"

"So you do like her?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "No. Yes. I don't know. When I see her, I just want to kiss her."

"So you don't like-like her?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. She's always so calm, in control. She so smart, so graceful, so completely…" he sighed again, heavier, "out of my league."

Fulton shrugged. "Shouldn't she be the one to decide that?" He changed channels again.

"She already did." Portman flopped back onto his bed.

"Portman, stop being such a girl."

"What!"

A pillow from across the room smacked him soundly in the head.

"No, dumbass, she sad that you didn't like her, not that she didn't like you."

Portman shot to his feet like someone had just insulted his mother. "You're right."

"I know."

"I'm a complete idiot."

"I know."

Fulton ducked as his pillow came straight for his head. It hit the wall with a resounding thunk, but by the time Fulton was ready to retaliate, Dean was already out the door.

Heart pounding, Dean took off for the Lady Ducks' room, but before he'd gone even ten feet, he saw Julie and Banks in the doorway of the blond boy's room. Stopping in his tracks, Dean watched them hug and Julie give Banks a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the girls' wing of the building.

Turning to go back into his room, Adam caught a glimpse of the tall enforcer standing in the hallway. He gave him a wave, but when he saw the darkness in Dean's eyes, he stopped, afraid of his friend for the first time. Portman shrugged and Adam saw that his friend wasn't mad, but that his eyes reflected a pain Adam'd never seen there before.

"Portman?"

Dean just shook his head and went back to his room.

"I'm done," he announced over the hushed dialogue of NYPD Blue.

"You're back quick."

"She's with Adam."

"Since when?"

Portman glared at his best friend. "I don't know. I just saw them together."

"Together or to-ge-ther?"

"Together! She kissed him."

"She kissed you, too, not too long ago." Fulton rolled his eyes.

"Look, just drop it." It was back to ceiling staring for Dean. "I know when I'm not good enough."