A/N Still don't know how I feel about this chapter, took forever to write, rewrite, and then some. So please tell me what you guys think of it. I don't care if you review, telling me if you like it or don't, or if you PM me. Any feedback helps!

Disclaimer The Mighty Ducks (c) Disney. Chloe Blake Winslow (c) Takara "Taka" Matsudaira.

Ducks of a Feather Flock Together

Chapter Two

Taking out my comb and brush out of my carry-on bag, I place the brush down on the counter of the sink before starting from the bottom and working my way up my long, wild, dark brown hair. It's messed up from taking a nap earlier, so much so that it takes a few tries for my comb to make any sort of progress. My hair's so bad that it's even safe to say that I have "sex hair." Whatever that means. Actually, I know what it means, I just don't want to think about it.

Now I'm usually not one for caring about her appearance, but I hate it when my hair's a rat's nest. It drives me crazy, and I don't know why, but I can't stand it. As my brush continues its magic, I take a moment to examine my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I don't look anything like my dad, or that of my four older brothers, all of whom have blonde hair and blue eyes, like my dad. Of course, I've got blue eyes, but that's where the similarities end.

"Are you an Eskimo?"

Most people would call me an "eskimo"—which is actually a very highly offensive term in our culture, and especially amongst the Iñupiat (or "Inuit") people of Alaska. I don't know why it is, but it is and I don't question it. It's always been like that for as long as I can remember, and I have a very good memory. Trust me on that—because of my looks.

Dark brown skin. Black, but not quite black. I'm somewhere in the middle. My mom's an Inuit, but my dad's caucasian; white. Dark brown hair. My hair's thick and long, wild, hangs in a loose ponytail half the time when it's not in a braid during a hockey game. And my gorgeous, so called, blue eyes. (A/N Think of Katara from Nickelodeon's hit TV show, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and you'll have a pretty good idea of what she looks like.)

Sounds Inuit enough, right?

Wrong!

It's exactly these very same blue eyes that throw people for a loop, which is why they always ask me if I'm an actual Inuit. The Inuit people don't have blue eyes, they have brown eyes, not blue. Never blue. Ever. Period. It's just unheard of!

"There. Finally," I say, sighing as I place both my comb and brush back into my carry-on bag. Looking over my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I run my fingers through my hair a few times, satisfied. "Yup. Much better." Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make my way out of the bathroom and back to my seat.

Mr. Tibbles is actually asleep for a change, instead of rambling on about who knows what, by the time I finally make it back to my seat. He stirs when I sit down in the chair next to his, but doesn't wake. Good. Peace and quiet for once. Something I can actually enjoy. I place my carry-on bag back under my seat, but not before taking out my little black sketch book so that I can draw, passing the time.

We're on a plane right now, heading to Minneapolis, Minnesota, where I'll be meeting the former peewee hockey coach and minor league player, Gordon Bombay, and his ragtag team of "Mighty Ducks." I'll be honest with you, I'm a little apprehensive when it comes to meeting new people. Never have been a social butterfly. And probably never will be.

I'll be the first, out of six, to arrive in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Us, recruits, will be staying in the same hotel together, which only makes sense. I'll be rooming with the only other female recruit, Julie Gaffney, from Bangor, Maine. Hm, haven't been there in awhile.

I'm actually happy that I'll be the first to arrive, gives me more time to myself before everyone else does. Because when you're on a team, especially on a hockey team, it's hard to find just time to yourself. Alone time.

Mr. Senior-VP-of-Hendrix-Hockey-Apparel over there, to my right, convinced me to leave early for Minnesota because of a big storm that'll supposedly roll in tomorrow night, which will more than likely ground all flights in and out of Alaska, if it actually comes that is. But I have no doubt that it will; it always does. That's why I'm on a plane today instead of tomorrow, on my way to Minneapolis, Minnesota, with none other than Mr. Stalker-Man himself. Who would've thunk it? And to think I only just met the man yesterday.

Someone taps me on the shoulder. "Here. Thought you might like to have it." He hands me a black-and-white picture of three happy-looking people. I take it uncertainly and study it, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

"What's this? Who're these people?" I try handing it back to him, but he doesn't accept it. And instead, he points to each person he describes.

He points to the woman in the picture.

She's propped up in a hospital bed, wearing one of those ugly hospital gowns, and holding a newborn baby girl in her arms, whose asleep in a baby blanket. She looks tired, her long, dark brown hair's messy, but she's all smiles anyway. She also has the same blue eyes as me. No; it couldn't be, could it?

"That's her. Your mom."

No way.

Next is the man beside the woman. He's smiling, too, with his arm over the woman's shoulders in a loving manner. His clothes are disheveled. He's tired, sure, but at least he doesn't look like he might collapse at any given minute.

"And that's me. I was there the day you were born."

Huh?!

You'd think someone would've told me this, but again, no one tells me anything anymore! I don't know what I should be feeling right now, but what I do know is that I'm confused. Yup. Definitely confused. And that's putting all of this mildly. Now do you understand why I call him "Mr. Stalker-Man?"

But only one question comes to mind. "Where was my dad when this picture was taken?" I ask the burning question at the forefront of my mind.

Mr. Tibbles rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, looking away before looking back at me uncertainly. "I think...you should ask your dad that question."

I look at him, then back at the black-and-white picture in my hand. My thumb rubs up and down the woman in the hospital gown. He says she's my mom, but eh...I don't know why, something tells me there's more to the story than what meets the eye. But again, it doesn't look like anyone is going to tell me anything.

The ding of the intercom system sounds, stopping everyone on the plane in their tracks. "This is your Captain speaking, we will be landing in Minneapolis, Minnesota shortly. Please put your trays in their upright positions and buckle up, as we will be landing soon. Thank you." It dings once more before going completely silent.

We all do as he says, everyone, including myself and Mr. Stalker-Man, also place our carry-on bags and whatnot under our seats as well, even though he said nothing about what to do with our belongings. The flight attendants help a few or so of the more shorter passengers by placing their belongings in the overhead compartments before sitting down themselves.

Before I know it, we're landing in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

A/N Not as long as the first chapter, but I hope you liked it anyway! Thanks for the shout-out, Blu Jitsu! :) That really made my day/week! Trust me on that, it did.

Reviews are much obliged! Flames'll be burnt to a crisp. ^_^