Disclaimer: All players and portrayers © themselves Based on the movie © Disney 'Live Like You Were Dying' © Tim McGraw

And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter

And I gave forgiveness I've been denyin'

And he said 'Some day I hope you get the chance

To live like you were dyin''

She was allowed in. Nobody had ever questioned why, and nobody ever thought to. Except for one. He had grown fond of her after all the practices. She would tell him why she would disappear for weeks at a time. She went to England, went climbing in the Rockies, she went skydiving. He, in turn, taught her about hockey, for she found it fascinating.

Her golden brown hair would swing in her fair face as her eyes danced while she watched. She would often entertain them before they headed off to the locker rooms. She wasn't exactly that witty, but she got by. Still, he found himself explaining things over and over.

At least she was a good listener. She kept quiet throughout his whole explanations. Even when some of the other guys would put bits in, she would look to him for confirmation. Her small, weightless form was easy enough to lift, so she would often ask for a ride on the ice. She would've looked perfect had it not been for her pale skin and very off proportions.

She would forgive someone in a heartbeat if they had done anything, giving them a hug if the looked unconvinced. She spoke sweetly to everyone, doing what was asked of her. She loved to do things just for the heck of it and they often found her doing risky things.

But he couldn't help but wonder why see was there. After all she had told him that she had done he didn't understand why she would want to be here. He was afraid to ask though, just like everyone else, but that never stopped him before.

"Hey," he murmured, sitting down beside her. She looked up at him, from her open notebook. She shut it rather quickly as he sat down.

"Hey yourself," she smiled at him. He went took of his helmet and gloves as he started up conversation.

"So, what've you been up to lately?"

"Ah," she replied, watching him, "went up to Canada again, you know. I really love it." She sighed at the thought of it.

"Are you rich or something?" He joked with her. She shrugged.

"Somewhat," her eyes scanned across the ice, "But all the money's spent on things I want do."

"You have a lot you want to do," he mused to himself.

"Life's short," she murmured to him. He nodded. They sat in silence for a while. He couldn't figure out how to word his question.

"So," he paused, "Why do you come here?" Hey, it was almost his real question.

"Hockey's fascinating," she smirked at him, "Like I've said every other time you've asked that." Okay, he tended to ask a lot, but he just couldn't get his real question out, "I'm assuming there's more to it."

"Yeah, your assumption would be right," he muttered. She sighed again, this time he could tell it wasn't out of her love for something. It was some emotion that he didn't understand.

"If you really want to know," she started, "Ask Brooks." He looked at her as though she were mad, "Or Craig."

"Why couldn't I ask you?" He retorted suddenly.

"Well," she looked at him questioningly, "If you were going to ask me, you would've asked already. Besides, I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow, though, right?" He stared at her for a moment. Shaking his head, he murmured a 'Yeah.'

He found himself with Craig standing in front of him as he was leaving. He had simply stared at him.

"Heard you had a question," Craig stated.

"Oh, that," he looked at his feet, finding something extremely fascinating on them, "Why is it that she can come to practices?" He had said it in one breath. He knew that Craig would know what he meant by 'she.'

"Well," Craig started, "She has some disease or something, I wasn't really told what. She's only got so long to live, though, and she seems to have a certain fascination for hockey. Her parents had practically begged for her to be allowed to watch." Various words from Craig's answer floated around in his head. Craig patted his shoulder, before heading down to Herb's office.

The next day he was suddenly anxious to see her. After practice he had hurried into the stands to talk to her. She looked at him, startled, before smiling.

"That happy to see me, eh?" She laughed as he took his seat beside her.

"I got my answer," he said quietly.

"Oh," she looked at her hands, "It was that question, was it?" She shook her head.

"What?" He looked at her, confused.

"Well," she looked back at him, "Now you know why I do all I do. I'm just living the way one should as the die." It took a moment for him to process her words.

"So," he left his unfinished sentence at that. She shook her head, looking at him expectantly. After a few moments though, she had sighed. She tended to do that a lot, he suddenly noticed.

"I suppose, considering that fact, I should've broken out of my shell," she commented quietly, "I mean, one of the most important things in life is love, and here I go denying it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned.

"Can I go for a ride?" She asked in response. He looked at her oddly, before nodding. They had walked down to the ice, him picking her up before jumping on it. After a while, he had slowed his pace down quite a bit. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Still want the answer to that question?" He had forgotten his question, but after he sorted through his thoughts, he nodded. She laughed, lifting her head so it was even with his. Before he could ask why, she kissed his lips softly. She had come sunk back into his arms after that. He had stopped skating completely.

"For the record," he started after he snapped out his daze, "I love you, too."

As they had left, she had spotted Mark Johnson sitting, contemplating. She had discovered he was having his own problems with a girl. She hadn't pressed the matter, simply gave her words of wisdom, "Someday I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying." When she had come back to him he had responded to that wisdom.

"I'm living as though I was dying," he murmured. She laughed, hugging him.

"If you say so," and they both grinned, walking out the door.

This is Rizzo. Yeah, weird, eh? Don't really care that much for him (though if he earns Eric more screen time I'm happy X3), but I needed a guy for it. Anyway, I'm thinking about doing ones for the Coneheads, and Jim Craig. I mostly want to do one for Bah out of those. I'm not making any promises though. For I find them hard to keep (inspiration's hard to come by…). Hope you like this one anyway!

Please R&R!

-Piper Brandybuck