Time and Again. Chapter Eight.

Written by: lady_lilith and lady_death.

Title: Time and Again. Chapter Eight.
Fandom: NHL: Detroit Red Wings.
Characters: Michal Hašek, Chris Chelios, Dean Chelios, Tara Chelios.
Word Count: 2,731.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Michal has some worries.
Author's Notes: This is set at the end of the off season. Both families are back in Detroit.


Hesitates, looking around, glancing behind him even making sure no one else is there, "Uh...do you have a minute?"

"Should I pull down the blinds?"

Bites his lip, but a little laugh escapes, "Maybe."

"Do you need a lawyer? I know a couple."

"No lawyer yet."

"Yet? Have a seat."

Inches forward, "Like here with you."

Slightly confused, "Michal?"

"Yeah?" Crosses the room and sits down.

"What's up?"

"Would it be weird, um, yeah, how could it not be weird, can it not be really weird for me to talk to you about stuff?"

"Stuff? You can talk to me about anything."

"Relationship," cringes, "uh, stuff?"

"Ah. Sure. I won't say a word."

"To either of them?"

"To anyone."

Breathes, "Do you know any hockey guys who are with regular guys?"

Thinks. "Do retired guys count as 'regular'?"

"No, like lay people."

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh. Okay, uh plan B then."

"Sorry. Go with plan b."

"It's okay, I didn't think...like that it happened a lot. So do you remember back when you were my age?"

"I can remember back that far."

"I wasn't trying to say it like that! I didn't mean that you're really old or anything. Just like...you know you could be all focused on now.."

Laughs, "You wouldn't be the first person today to call me old."

"But you're not old!"

"Well, thanks."

"But, uh, so you do remember back then."

"Yes, I do."

"What'd you think of like...teammates?"

"I didn't think a lot back then."

"But hockey guys in general, and teammates."

"Did I fuck them, is that what you're asking?"

"Yeah, sort of. Like should I expect to share?"

"When I was your age, I didn't have someone that cared who I was sleeping with. Does Dean?"

"Well, yeah. But I don't want to be this asshole who flips out, uh, every time, you know, uh," blushes, "someone's got their hand on his ass."

"Does it bother you to see that?"

"I...I don't know. I guess, I see like you and dad and I just wanna know how much I should know is normal teammate stuff."

"Your father makes damn sure I know what he thinks of hands on my ass that aren't his. And every so often he lets a teammate know, too. It's not about what you should expect, it's about what you'll allow.":

"But, well, I'm kind of like in the same spot as the wife you know? It's not like he's with another teammate."

"Are you going to have that kind of relationship? Where you're not fucking anyone else?"

"Why would," mumbles, "would I want anybody but Dean?"

"And him?"

"I think it's the same, but he hasn't gone off to a real team yet."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"No, but he said it, sort of, to Jake."

"Michal, you're dating a Chelios. Grated one of the smarter ones, but still a Chelios."

"Hey! What are you trying to say about Dean?"

Laughs, "Like I said, he takes thankfully after his mother more than after me."

Snapping, "Dean's his own person."

"You're right, he is."

"I just wanna be a good boyfriend."

"Dean’s lucky to have you."

"Yeah, you think?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Have you ever f---been with a regular guy?"

"In college."

"Do you think it makes a big difference not to play hockey?"

"I think the big difference is in the ground rules you lay down."

"But, not being able to share the hockey thing on the same level?"

Thinks. "I think if you want it, and he wants it, hockey doesn't matter."

Smiles, "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Good. And I hope it does work."

"Me too. But I'm fuckin' stuck here." Bites his lip.

"Here as in Detroit?"

"Yeah, in school."

"Mmhmm." Smirks. "Your father wouldn't approve of you skipping school."

"I know! And it's his fault I'm still stuck doing another year."

"I know. If only there was a way around that."

"Yeah, I thought I could---"

"You could?"

"Uh, nothing, I thought I'd do good in school and see Dean on breaks."

"Do I look that stupid?"

"I didn't say anything, you can't use it against me."

"True. I also can't help you."

"Help me?"

"Unless you don't need help.”

"I'm not stupid enough to think I don't need help."

"That's a relief."

"I'm not my dad."

Laughs, "Are you saying he's stupid?"

"Stubborn is a kind of stupid."

"So true."

"You'd really help us?"

"Of course I would."

"What's your position on going to class?"

"You have to pass the classes."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Or I'll still be stuck here. I thought that it'd be cool to have a hockey dad, but then he ruins it by being---Uh, well he shouldn't have been a teacher."

Laughs, "It's better to have him as a hockey player."

"Well, yeah! He expects like degrees from college and shit."

"What you do after high school is your choice."

"I thought male cheerleader."

Laughs out loud.

Smiles, snickering too.

"Hey, more power to ya."

"I could travel with the team."

"It's a thought."

"They've got those pom poms."

Snickers, "Uh huh."

"I work out, I can do the tops."

Coughs.

Blushes, "Anyway, uh, I could figure something out."

"I'm sure you can. But you've got this year to get through."

"Yeah, this year." Slumps into the couch.

"So you were just planning to run when Dom wasn't looking?"

"Uh, kinda, yeah, when you guys were on the road, and I'd get back before you got back."

"Not a bad plan."

"I don't think mom would tell."

"Probably not."

"School might tell 'im."

"That's what I was thinking. You'd need someone willing to call the school."

"I shouldn't even be in that school."

"That's not the point."

"Well, I shouldn't. It's stupid."

"Is that argument going to get you anywhere?"

Sighs, "I wanna get out of there."

"In a year."

"Okay, but you'll call the school for me?"

"Now we're getting somewhere."

"And uh help make sure dad doesn't kill me?"

"That's what I'm on this planet for."

"Well, he's like better. 'Cause it wouldn't be about Dean, you know? It'd be the school thing."

"Huh?"

"Dad, he wouldn't kill me over seeing Dean. Just skipping school."

"Right."

"Do you have any advice?"

"Don't get caught."

"Advice how not to get caught?"

"Don't get cocky."

"Okay, that's a good one."

"And ask for help when you need it."

"And you'd like help bail us out?"

"Yeah, I'd do that. You have my cellphone number, right?"

"Uh, Dean does." Pulls his phone out.

"In case of emergency, just keep it in there." Gives him the number.

Programs it into his phone, "Are you...uh, okay with us?"

"I'd go so far as to say I'm glad for you."

Smiles, "Thanks. He's my best friend, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"He's gonna be great, isn't he?"

Smiles, "Yeah, he is."

"He thinks Detroit'll draft him and everything. And it's not like they've got a lot of superstar forwards right now, he could make a mark."

Laughs, "I wouldn't mind seeing him play here. We could use him now, like you said."

"You are gonna retire, before he starts playing there, right?"

"We'll see at the end of this season."

"Maybe you should stay, you've got another couple years left."

"You think so?"

"Yeah I do. And dad would keep playing."

"We'll see what this year does for us."

"Is you guys don't take the Cup Dean's gonna go on and on about it again."

Laughs, "Then we'll have to."

"He won't let me like Buffalo!"

Shakes his head, "He doesn't accept I played in Chicago or Montreal, either."

"Were they any good?"

"We liked to think so. Montreal was."

"Then he shouldn't have a problem with it."

"You'd think so."

Laughs, "Dean's Dean."

"He is. He's a good kid, lucky he didn't take too after me."

"Ewww."

Laughs, "Your father seems to like me."

"Awww...come on, mercy."

Laughs, "You couldn’t get away with all this for nothing."

"I'm never coming back."

"Sure you're not."

"No, I'm not. I don't want to think about that."

"I don't think you should. Dean'll be home soon."

"You guys don't help."

"Which guys?"

"You guys, you and dad. You traumatized me."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll pay for your therapy too."

"You should!"

"We will."

Gets up from the couch, a little smile, "Thanks."

"Any time."

"I'll, uh, remember that." Goes outside to wait for Dean.

Pulls into the garage about twenty minutes later. "Why're you here?"

You're here."

"I wasn't yet."

"You showed up."

"Yeah, I did. C'mere."

Smiles shyly at him, "I waited around for you."

"Yeah, I noticed." Smirks, "You do that on purpose."

"Wait around for you, yeah I do."

"No. That look."

"Mmmm, the looks just show up on their own."

"That's such a lie." Stalks closer to him.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

"I don't believe it." Slides his arms around him.

"No, idea what I'm doing." Smiles just for him, "You took too long to get home."

"You get in trouble while I was gone?" Feels up his ass obviously.

"Yeah, I tried out for the ice girls."

"You make it?" Pulls him closer.

"I got a call back, if I work on the dance moves."

Moves with him to a club beat. "Like that?"

"I could try out for something else with...that." Picks it up too.

Teases him along his neck, keeping up the grind.

"We should go...uh....do something. With the rest of the summer."

"We are doing something."

Gives him a push, into the yard.

Laughs, "I'll fuck you right there."

"You can wait." A little more aggressive, gives him another shove, "We should take off."

Tugs at the waistband of his pants, "You should take these off."

"No. You should these off." Tugs at his, "But not here."

Kisses him, hard.

Tries to knock him down into the grass.

Takes the hit, pulling him down with him.

Rolls around with him, grinning, putting up a struggle.

Tries to force him into a kiss as they struggle.

Tosses in some teeth as he kisses him back.

Moans unabashedly, reaching for his pants to tug them off.

"Uh uh, how about a hotel on the beach?"

"Anywhere."

"Listen, I think we should have a road trip."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Where do you want to go?"

Toys with his lip, "Wherever. Before you go."

"Mmm, yeah, sure."

"Like to make up for the road trips I won't get to go on. Us, the road, the car." Pushes his shirt up, "This...all over."

"Yeah, I like it-- good idea. We can go anywhere, Mikey."

"Yeah, I want to get out of here and go all over."

"Yeah, okay, let's go."

"Or maybe just one place where I can make you not wear clothes."

"Somewhere we can just do this." Kisses him again.

"Mmm, yeah, like that. No one to bug us." Kisses him gently.

"Mmm, hey, Mikey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Smiles, before kissing him again, "Me too."

"Where do you wanna go?"

"Mexico is kinda far, somewhere cool."

"How 'bout some island somewhere?"

"Yeah, that's what I got in my head."

Smirks, "Trust me?"

"Yeah..."

"That a question?"

"No, but I know I love trouble."

Laughs, "Go home and pack."

"Where am I meeting you?"

"Here. At my car."

"Alright, I'll be here."

Kisses him, gently.

"I gotta get up to go do this."

"Yeah." Kisses him again.

"You gotta go pack too. But not a lot." His smile has the barest hints of a smirk.

"Mmhmm. Stop looking so fuckin' hot."

"I'll save it."

"Yeah." Kisses him again.

"I think you can get arrested for that in public."

Groans, "Why does this keep happening?"

"I have too many siblings."

Glances over at her, "We can't get arrested, we have clothes on."

"I still think you're indecent."

"What about your boyfriend?"

Matter-of-factly, "I don't have one."

"Girlfriend?"

Like he's an idiot, "I'm too young."

Coughs, "Yeah, I guess."

"You should go inside."

"The grass is free."

"Someone might call the cops."

"I told you we can't be arrested." Looks only at Dean.

Smirks, and kisses him soundly.

"Come on. "

He can't help smiling unabashedly.

"Dopes." Stomps back into the house.

"Not like she needed the yard."

"She plays soccer out here."

"There's more yard, elsewhere."

"Mmhmm, backyard."

"Yeah, we claimed this part first."

Yeah. Claiming. Good idea." Kisses him to do that.

"Dean. Yeah, I've got that." Traces his mouth, "All that's mine."

"Mmhmm. You're not gonna find some guy at school, right?"

"No, I'm not gonna find another guy."

"You sure?"

"You're my only guy."

"Good."

"What about all those guys who will feel you up?"

"So what?"

"You aren't gonna invite 'em back to your hotel room?"

"Mm mm. I'll be too busy."

"Doing what?"

"Phone sex."

Flushes, "Yeah, so you'll be really busy."

"Mmhmm."

"We can...uh get a lot of practice this year."

"You can come out to where I am next year, so we'll only need one year of real practice. Then just y'know away games."

"Yeah, those things, but it's an even split."

"Yeah, but summers together."

"All summer, like this road trip."

"Yeah."

"You better make a lot of money, 'cause I could fly out too, sometimes."

"Yeah, I will. Millions."

Laughs, "I should become like an equipment manager, then I'd get to go for free."

"Or my personal massage therapist."

"I could do massage therapy. But they'd want me to work for the whole team."

"Fuck that."

You want to explain to them why I can only work on you?"

"Yeah, this is my boyfriend. Take one look at him and I'll beat the crap outta you."

"I can't get a job like that."

"You can get a job with me."

"Like my..." Coughs, "Sugar daddy?"

Laughs, "Mmhmm, I'll pay for you."

"And what kind of job would you give me?"

"How would 'sex slave' look on your resume?"

"But what about when I get old?"

"I'll be old too."

"You'll still be able to get the rookies."

"I'll want my old guy."

"Not the hot young guy who comes along?"

"Uh uh."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Mmhmm. Get me a pen."

"I'll go get one."

"I'll sign to that."

"I've probably got something in my car."

"Go ahead."

Smiles, shaking his head, getting to his feet.

Rolls over to his back, smirking up at him.

Comes back in a minute, with a pen and some receipt, "You can write on the back of this."

"What's it a receipt for?"

Turns it over, "Uh, lunch I think. No good?"

"I'm signing on the back of a McDonald's receipt?"

"You got something better?'

Sticks his hands in his pockets, "Um, no. Gimme the receipt."

"When I'm fat and old from all this McDonald's you won't leave me for a rookie." Hands it to him.

Takes that and the pen. I swear that when you're old and fat, I won't leave you for some rookie. And signs it.

Reads it over, laughing, "I'm framing that. But Tara should get back out here and witness it."

"Tara!"

From the backyard, "Yeah?"

"C'mere."

Kicks her soccer ball over to them, "Yeah?"

"Sign this, prosím."

Thinks a minute. "Proč?"

"We need a witness."

"For what?"

"For this, it's like a contract."

Grabs it, reading it over. Starts laughing.

"Just sign it, okay? It's no good without a witness."

"You guys are dopes." Grabs the pen and neatly prints her name at the bottom, "This doesn't mean I hafta keep you when you're old and fat, does it?"

"No. It means Dean does, you're just witnessing that Dean signed it."

"Okay." Tosses it back at them, "Dopes."

"Thanks, you can have the front yard in a sec."

Nods, "είσαι ευπρόσδεκτοs." Kicks her ball back to the backyard.

"Did she swear at me?"

Laughs, "No, she was being nice."

"Do I have to learn a third language?"

"Nah. We don't know as much Greek as Dad does."

"Good, 'cause it's hard enough with the two."

"Tell me about it."

"Yeah, really." Gives him a quick kiss, pocketing the receipt.

Laughs, "Now, go pack shit. I'll do the rest."

"I'll be back soon." Another kiss, getting up.

Watches him again.

Bends down, brushing his lips, "I'm going."

"Mmhmm."

"Going." Climbs into his car.

Smirks, still watching him.

How Times Have Changed

Some might say I'm a bit "old school" when it comes to sports. I admit I prefer baseball seasons that end in October, not November; I think the has WAY too many teams; I can't stand the DH. However, what really upsets me is the way we just can't trust our sports and our sports heroes anymore. You can't watch baseball without wondering if the big home run hitter is on something other than a hot streak, you can't watch basketball without wondering if the referees are on the take, you can't watch football without wondering how many times the star player has been arrested, and you can't watch wrestling... or you just plain shouldn't watch wrestling, cuz it's dumb anyway...

The most recent and most notorious example of suspicion and head-shaking in sports is of course Barry Bonds*. I put an asterisk next to his name because that asterisk should follow him for all time. His record is not a legitimate one. Now I have friends who support Bonds* and say that he needs to be given the benefit of the doubt because Bonds* has never tested positive for anything. I do believe in the American belief of innocent until proven guilty; however, when the evidence seems to be growing larger than Bonds'* head by the day, it's hard to remain objective. I mean, the guy's trainer has been sitting in jail for what, almost a year now? Greg Anderson is being held in contempt until he testifies in the BALCO grand jury proceedings, and he refuses to do so. Why would someone not testify unless he had something to hide, something that would incriminate his best friend, something that would make an indictment a slam dunk (if you'll excuse the mixed sports metaphor)?

No sooner did Bonds* tie the record a week and a half ago than yet another ex-teammate, Brian Johnson (not the lead singer of AC/DC) say in an interview with ESPN that he's pretty sure Bonds was using performance enhancing drugs. You have the book "Game of Shadows", which won its authors a First Amendment award for sticking to their guns and not naming their sources. You have Bonds*' own words where he claimed to mistake "the clear" for flaxseed oil.

And quite frankly, the fact that he is so full of himself it's not even funny does more to hurt his cause than help. Endlessly portraying yourself as a victim of the media is not the Dale Carnegie way to win friends and influence people. He is human, I do acknowledge that, and Bonds* does show rare instances of that, such as when he broke down while mentioning his father in his post-756 speech to the gushing San Francisco crowd (where every home game is Extra Kool-Aid Night). You don't have to answer the endless questions about what you've done, but don't scapegoat, that does nothing to help your cause. It also doesn't help when your lawyer is just as egotistical and cocky as you are... last month, Michael Rains, Bonds*' attorney, pretty much called his shot and said of the U.S. Attorney's office pursuing his client that he would "kick their ass." Yeah, that's not going to make the feds work that much harder to see that your client spends a good chunk of the rest of his life behind bars. If an indictment comes down, the odds are good that the federal government, much like the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, will get their man. Just ask Michael Vick...

Meanwhile, of course, you have the Mitchell investigation currently being conducted for Major League Baseball, plus the former Mets' clubhouse boy who has a pretty extensive list of people he gave steroids to if he decides to squeal to the feds (and he will). The unfortunate result of all of this is that when I look at today's sluggers, I wonder which ones used and which didn't. We know Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire used, many believe Sammy Sosa did, Jason Giambi had to turn himself in and squeal, and now Alex Rodriguez is the latest 500-plus home run hitter to be under scrutiny. Atlanta Braves star Larry, errrrrr... Chipper Jones accidentally put the question out there in an interview last week. I've seen video of A-Rod in spring training with no shirt on, and to be honest, the first thing I thought was, "He doesn't look natural." Of course I'm sure many will jump on this one just because they hate the Yankees and A-Rod himself, and A-Rod is another type to draw media scrutiny with his demeanor.

Then there's the NFL... where it seems people who are on suspension for breaking the law (or league rules) get more press than the clean players. Pac-Man Jones gets suspended for a year, then makes headlines saying he wants to get into pro wrestling, not the first time a pro football star with a rap sheet went in that direction (LT, anyone?) The Cincinnati Bengals managed to break the record previously held by the Portland Trail Blazers earlier in this decade for most players to run afoul of the law in a 6-month span.

And of course, there's the aforementioned Vick. I don't need to say anything that everyone else has already said, but it does bring all of this full circle... People have asked why would someone with the star power and the money of a Michael Vick really feel the need to torture and train animals to fight and kill each other for entertainment? What did he not have that he would get through that? And what could Barry Bonds* have possibly wanted out of taking performance-enhancing drugs that he wasn't already getting? He was a natural-born athlete, a 2nd generation star player who had the tools to succeed from day one. When you're already an All-Star, already an MVP multiple times, already have the money and the fame, why break the law? The only reason I can think of is ego. Selfish motivation, plain and simple. It's not like we haven't had "me-first" types in sports; they've been around for years, even ones who had topsy-turvy relationships with the press. But these guys take it to another level, another level LOWER.

I previously wrote about how the "me-first" guys get more press than the good role models in sports, but it seems to have gotten even worse in just the last 2 months since I first wrote about it. That's a shame, because we need positive role models in sports to be uplifted now more than ever.
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