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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Shadow - 37. Chapter 37

They won.

It had taken Clovis putting a puck away in the eighth minute of the second overtime. Battered, bloodied, but undefeated. The Storm were gathered in Union Station after the game, ready to take the gold back home. It wasn't quite like winning the Stanley Cup, but for most of the members of the team, that was as close as they were ever going to get. They were champions, they had preserved the dynasty, and there was no doubt to any of them who had led them to that victory.

West was sore, leaning on his hockey sticks like they were a crutch; he fended off his ninth hair tussling of the evening from an overenthusiastic teammate, who then went running off to cause as much mayhem as he could, cheering loudly and chanting "Storm rule!" over and over.

West stood looking at Peter, a confident smile dancing on his face, team coat hanging open, the championship pin clipped to his precious 'C'. He was the captain of a champion team, the thrill was electric, his team had won.

"You know, in the movies Union Station is typically a cheap substitute for Grand Central Station," West observed looking around him and settling back on Peter's blue eyes, a source of great warmth.

"Uh-oh," Peter intoned looking around him.

"Yep, and I'm about to get on a train..." West grinned.

"Does that mean I have to run along the platform banging on the side of the train screaming that I love you?" Peter shrugged. "I might trip over..."

"We could skip over that part," West said, hobbling forward a step.

"Right here?" Peter squeaked, looking at West's teammates who were in the process of recreating Clovis's winning goal using two garbage cans for the net.

"Hey, I don't make the rules, but somewhere I'm sure, it's written that you have to give a guy a kiss before he gets on a train."

"You're making that up," Peter accused, blushing furiously so that his freckles stood out on the end of his nose.

"Probably," West replied with a charming grin. "I could say you owe me one for winning the game, but I was saving that one for Prom night."

"Really?" Peter laughed. "How about I just make you wait till then? Anticipation makes it sweeter."

"I don't think I could wait that long," West feigned clutching his heart. "I'd shrivel up and die..."

"Okay, I think that's more than enough saccharine for one evening," Will remarked, walking up to the pair. "If we're going to make it back to Ottawa in time for me to get a decent night's sleep, we need to get going."

Peter glanced at Will, and then reluctantly back at West. "I gotta go," he said quietly.

West smiled, "Yeah, Dad's calling."

"I heard that," Will threw back over his shoulder as he started walking towards the doors.

Peter blinked at West, then looked over at Will frowning. "I suppose in a way he is..." he murmured.

"He's a good guy," West followed Peter's gaze. "He was nice enough to bring my good-luck charm to the game." West turned back to smile at Peter, and reached out a hand to touch Peter's tummy, the long fingers resting on the dips to either side of Peter's abdomen, and he squeezed a couple of times.

Peter looked down at the hand and up at West with a grin. "That would be a tummy," Peter explained. "It's used for digesting food..."

"A few other things, too," West nodded sagely.

"Sprog?" Will called halfway to the doors. "Come on, we need to get to the highway, and Toronto traffic's a bitch."

"I'm coming," Peter called back, leaning back to face West again. "I-I'm still not ready to kiss you in public yet," he whispered apologetically. "Not yet..." He glanced at West's teammates, who were making cooing noises, as Matt made a kissy face, all of them watching the pair as they said their good-byes.

West looked over his shoulder at his teammates; one of them had yanked down his track pants to moon them, typical horsing around. He looked back at Peter, "Hey, what can I say--isn't it romantic?"

"Kiss!" demanded Matt.

"Kiss," echoed the team as they began to chant.

Peter, his cheeks bright red, leaned around West again and blinked at the team chanting for him to kiss their captain.

West winked at him as he tapped Peter twice on the shoulder, "Go, your ride's waiting."

Will was standing, his arms folded, staring at his watch and tapping his foot impatiently, anxious to get going. "It's a four-hour train ride," Will said, shaking his head incredulously. "You'd think they'd never see each other again."

"Why don't you do that for me?" Andrew chuckled, appearing at his shoulder from where he had checked luggage.

"Because I know full well I'll see you in four hours..." Will shrugged. "And I've never been that... sappy."

"You have," Andrew reminded, nudging Will. "Remember the time..."

"Okay, so we don't bring that up," Will replied grumpily. "I was being melodramatic..."

"You?" Andrew stepped back incredulously oozing sarcasm, "Melodramatic? Never!"

"Shut it," Will said crossing his arms. "Peter, Jeep... going... now!"

Peter looked longingly into West's eyes as he drew away, bounding after Will as the lanky Brit marched towards the door, murmuring about Canadian hockey players.

* * *

Lisa was sitting on the porch as Will drove up, the Jeep rolling to a stop just inside the old wood garage. He climbed down and walked around the battered Jeep and looked up at her, sitting, feet dangling on the porch swing, an enigmatic smile on her face as she swung lazily to and fro.

"Howdy, ma'am," Will intoned, leaning on the Jeep's roll bar. "What brings a pretty little thang like you to the Ponderosa?"

"Well mercy me," Lisa said, grinning and putting her hand on her heart, and feigning a southern-belle accent, "if it isn't a cowboy come to rescue me..."

"Do you have a brother?" Will grinned, his British accent poking through again.

"Typical, ruin my cowboy fantasy," Lisa sulked. "How was the hockey game?"

"They won," Will said, looking at Peter asleep in the passenger seat of the Jeep, his ball cap pushed low over his eyes as he slumbered peacefully. "Sprog's worn out, too much excitement."

"He's not ten you know," Lisa laughed at Will.

"I know," Will said with a faint smile, "remember when he was little and used to fall asleep in the chair..."

"You sound old," she said, looking fondly into the Jeep at the young man. "Do you need help getting him inside?"

Will nodded, and between the pair of them they managed to carry the still-sleeping teenager into the house and set him gently on the couch. The most he stirred was to roll over and get comfortable again.

"It's like he's twelve again," Lisa remarked, "sweet as an angel..."

"Careful," Will grinned, "if Jeff hears you getting all maternal, he might have to run for the hills."

"Ha," Lisa snorted, "he's more maternal than I am. He was coming up with baby names the other day..."

"You're...?" Will gaped looking down at Lisa's stomach.

"No!" Lisa shook her head, "it's just something he does... it's silly." She motioned to the kitchen. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Please," Will replied with a nod following her through. "It was a long drive, passing through Kingston was a mistake."

"Always is," Lisa grinned. "You could have gone around it, you know."

"Sprog wanted to stop." Will shook his head glancing at the blond hair sticking up over the couch cushions, "I will never understand the fascination with McDonalds."

"You're getting old," Lisa winked. "You used to love Big Macs."

"Ahh yes, the days when reheated cardboard tasted good." He chuckled as he climbed up into a stool and scrubbed his tired face, "What are you doing here?"

"It's Saturday night," Lisa said, "movie night... but without you, and Brody being out of town, I was stuck home with Jeff... and you know what he's like when we're home alone."

"Affectionate?" Will asked lightly.

Lisa screwed up her face. "Is it wrong of me to want a regular guy?" she asked. "A beer-swilling, hockey-playing guy who doesn't want to talk about 'feelings' and the 'relationship' all the time?"

"You know, there are some girls out there that would kill to have a sensitive guy like Jeff," Will pointed out, watching Lisa prepare the coffee.

"Yeah," Lisa shrugged, "but he goes a little overboard with it... I can usually get him off my back for a few hours if I buy him a canvas and turn him loose in the garage to paint."

Will chuckled.

"What?" Lisa asked.

"Just, still can't imagine a construction worker, in touch with his feelings and painting," Will shrugged. "It's a funny image."

"You know he doesn't always wear the hard hat and tool belt, right?" Lisa remarked.

"I bet you wish he did," Will shot back, smirking.

Lisa folded her arms as she leaned against the counter, "And like you've never had Andrew put on all the hockey gear one night, for a little NHL pre-season..."

"Shurrup!" Will blushed.

"Ah-ha!" Lisa grinned triumphantly, "So who was MVP?"

"Shurrup!" Will repeated. "We were teasing you, remember?"

"So, heard from Brody?" Lisa asked, and Will caught the faint look in her eyes as she asked it. It appeared whenever they were alone and Brody was mentioned, the history between the two of them was well known.

Technically Will supposed it was more the fact that Brody had been Lisa's first; that kind of connection was hard to break, much like Brody's consummate fear of commitment that had him bouncing from girl to girl across the continent. Despite the fact that Brody fully believed it was because there was too much of him for any one girl.

"He's in California, doing god knows what," Will replied.

"I bet it's porn," Lisa said with a firm nod.

"I doubt that," Will disagreed. "He's too... it's too mundane for him. Brody's not the type to produce porn."

"Not seedy enough," Lisa surmised. "How's he doing?"

"Good," Will replied. "He should be back in a couple of weeks."

"Andrew's coming back with the team?" Lisa asked, chewing her lip, and Will got the impression she was trying to work up the nerve to talk to him about something.

"He should be here soon," Will looked across at the clock on the microwave. "He has to make sure everyone is picked up from the train station."

"Going to go pick him up?" Lisa set the coffee maker brewing as she sat down across the breakfast island from him.

"He's catching a lift from Thorburn. I think they want to drop the trophy over at the school." Will crossed his legs and stared levelly at Lisa, "So it's just you and me."

"Right," Lisa said nervously, looking towards the door and weighing the potential for escape.

"So," Will said, meeting her eyes, "what's up?"

"I think Jeff is going to ask me to marry him," Lisa said, looking down at the counter.

"Again?" Will asked lightly.

"It's serious Will," Lisa said, and Will met her eyes in concern.

"All right," he sobered up, "he's going to ask you to marry him, and he's asked you how many times now?" He tried to do the math and shook his head, losing track.

"Ten," Lisa said, looking down again. "This will be eleven."

"And you're running out of excuses not to?" Will asked, shaking his head. "You love him, he obviously loves you, why aren't you saying yes?"

"I don't know," Lisa said, shrugging. "Every time he asks, I just want to be somewhere else... I love him, a lot, it's just... marriage." She looked at him, "Seriously, you gay boys have it easy, you don't have to worry about this stuff."

Will chuckled, "Could you just imagine me at a wedding?" He laughed, "It would be a disaster, my dad and his mom in the same room at the same time..." Will shuddered.

"You could elope to Amsterdam, they do marriages there," Lisa smiled.

"They'll do them here soon," Will said with a smile. "The laws are changing; a few years and if we put the right kind of people in parliament, we'll get the law changed."

Lisa laughed, "You sound like a politician."

"Prime Minister Dumb Ass," Will grinned. "I'll form the first 'Pink' party... standing on a platform of cute gay boys for everyone..." He shook his head, "No, Andrew's more the political type, he's got law school under his belt. Not to mention the fire to do it. Me, I'm too laid back."

"Yeah," Lisa smiled, "and could you imagine the scandals once it is accidentally leaked to the press about your lack of a Barbra Streisand collection."

"Great, sure, get the pink mafia after me," Will complained with a grin. "But you, young lady, are changing the subject. We were talking about you dodging Jeff popping the question." He looked at her, "What makes you think he is going to ask again?"

"The ring's missing from his sock drawer," Lisa explained. "He keeps it under his boxer shorts, he thinks I won't go looking in there, but I found it one day when I was trying to find his porno."

"You let Jeff keep porn?" Will asked, impressed.

"No!" Lisa shook her head firmly. "I don't want that derogatory stuff in the house, it demeans women... it makes them into sex objects."

"Ahh," Will smirked, "best stay off of Brody's computer then... mine too for that matter."

"Brody's just a pig, and you..." she screwed up her nose.

"Right, so no strippers at the bachelor party, then," Will grinned.

"There isn't going to be a bachelor party," Lisa said firmly. "There isn't going to be a wedding."

"That's okay," Will said, "Andrew's the same way about strippers, he doesn't like it at all. Me, I'm indifferent; they're girls earning a living, let them dance..."

"You've been living with Brody too long," Lisa observed.

"And you've been a resident member of the Hard-core Lesbian Feminist Movement for how long now?"

"Why is it, that when I stand up for women's rights, you call me a lesbian?" Lisa folded her arms.

"Because it annoys you," Will replied sweetly. "But seriously, if you don't want to marry him, just talk to him. I am sure he'll..."

"You know Jeff, he never listens, he wants to get married, and he wants to have kids." She shook her head, "I have a career, and I can't be tied down like this."

"Retirement age is sixty-five," Will pointed out. "That's a little late to settle down to raise children. Sooner or later you are going to have to figure this out. If you love him, and this will make him happy, does it really hurt you to say yes? Go down an aisle, have a special day, and get back to your regularly scheduled life?"

"I don't know..." Lisa said uncertainly.

"Think about it," Will said, getting up as a car pulled into the driveway and Andrew got out.

Copyright © 2010 By Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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  • Site Administrator

The team chanting "Kiss!" was wonderful. They clearly don't have a problem with the captain having a boyfriend :)

Edited by Graeme
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Will: just talk to him. I am sure he'll...

 

yeah, great advice coming from someone who's not being honest with his own boyfriend. :rolleyes: 

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