The Puck Stops Here 2

by Wadjet

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asw/wadjet/puck02.php
Summary: Things come to a head for Brad and Daniel and Daniel's obsession leads him into the unknown

Jack skated around the outer edge of the rink, deliberately passing Pankowski on his way to his slot in defence, opposite Grant Jennings. O'Neill and Pankowski eyed each other warily as Jack skated by and spat on the ice just in front of him, knowing he risked a misconduct penalty, but hoping that the referee wasn't paying attention. Pankowski gave him a feral, mostly toothless smile and tapped his stick on the ice several times. Words were completely unnecessary as the two men swapped threatening glances

Jack skated back into the Penguins' zone, nodding towards his partner and then went over to tap helmets with Tom Barrasso, the Pens netminder, thus fulfilling another of his pre-game traditions

"Stay solid, Tomcat."

"You too, Irish."

Daniel watched the exchange between O'Neill and Pankowski and grinned, rubbing his hands together, his eyes twinkling with wicked glee.

"Oh yes! C'mon Irish, gimme a hard-on. Gimme some Old-Time hockey and pummel that sonovabitch Polack to ground beef," he muttered

Brad stared open mouthed, and then shook his head. "Unfuckingbelievable! Y'know Danny, if I'd known you were gonna be like this, I'd never have got the tickets."

Daniel shoved his elbow into Brad's ribs and smiled. "Aw c'mon, Brad. You're not getting jealous, are you? Let a boy fantasise. The guy's straight, for God's sake!"

Brad snorted derisively, "Like that would make a difference."

"Not to mention married."

"What did I just say? I've seduced more than one married guy, y'know."

"TMI babe."

"Maybe, but let's say Jack O'Neill got you down a dark alley or in a men's room and wanted to fuck you. You'd drop your pants so fast they'd leave a vapour trail. Am I right?"

The roar of the crowd mercifully interrupted Daniel's impending plea of the Fifth Amendment as the puck was dropped to begin the game

Daniel became mesmerised as he watched Jack play: only Jack. He wasn't particularly interested in the rest of the game. When the big defenseman wasn't on the ice, Daniel would watch him on the bench; taping up his stick, taking a drink, wiping off the sweat from his face with a towel. Brad didn't think he'd ever seen such slavish devotion before. He was beginning to worry. Daniel had watched O'Neill's every move with unblinking eyes since the buzzer had gone for the start of the game. In between periods, Brad went off to grab them a beer and a burger each, while Daniel sat silently with his chin on his hands, frowning

It was wonderful for Daniel, being able to watch Jack again. It had been a very long time, but all the things that had attracted the young Danny Jackson in the first place were still there in abundance. Forgetting for a moment the sheer power and presence of the man, (not to mention his beautiful eyes) Jack still gave the best hip check in the business and his slapshot put some of the new guys completely to shame. He still had a fair turn of speed up the ice and his stick handling was as awesome as ever. It was obvious to Daniel that the younger guys in the team looked to him for leadership, even though the 'C' was on someone else's shirt. As the game had progressed, O'Neill's line had stayed tight under his guidance, only allowing two shots on goal for the entire period... but Daniel was worried. He'd been watching very closely and could see that O'Neill was in pain. Whether it was from his knees or his back, Daniel couldn't tell, but he was hoping that Jack was getting some treatment in the locker room

He'd been watching Pankowski, too. The big Polack had a predatory look on his face and it seemed inevitable that they would lock horns again; it was just a matter of when. Daniel hoped that Jack could stay out of trouble for as long as possible, because the other defensive lines were struggling and the last thing the Pens needed was to have Jack taken out; either by penalty or injury. He was way too important for that. Daniel nervously chewed on his fingernails as Brad returned, almost unnoticed, with the food and beer

"Hey."

"Hmm."

"You sure you're not takin' this a little too seriously, sugar?"

"This from a man whose home state has never had an ice hockey team," Daniel snorted. "This is the Stanley Cup, Brad. The Stanley Cup. For a hockey fan, this is it. Don't you understand?"

Brad sighed sadly, a little hurt that Daniel could snap at him so easily. "I didn't mean that, Danny. I meant him. I know he was your pin-up babe, but c'mon. You haven't taken your eyes offa him the whole game so far."

Daniel bristled. "I haven't seen him play in a long time. You have no idea how much he means to me," he retorted defensively, then quickly recanted. "How much he meant to me when I was growing up."

"No, I guess I don't."

Daniel's features softened as he looked at his young lover. Brad was right; he felt way more than he should for a man he'd never have and was angry for allowing Jack so far under his skin. The scary thing was, Daniel knew that if he just got so much as the crook of a finger from O'Neill, his eight month relationship with Brad wouldn't come into the equation. Daniel would go. He'd crawl over the proverbial half mile of broken glass. He nudged Brad gently and smiled sheepishly

"Sorry. I'm being a prick, aren't I?"

"You are kinda distracted."

"It's like my hormones take over whenever I look at him. It takes me right back. I don't mean to upset you. He doesn't mean as much to me as you do." He said it with such sincerity he almost believed it himself

Brad leaned in close to Daniel's ear and whispered, "Just drink your beer, eat your double chilli cheeseburger and fuck me into the bed later on, sugar That'll do it."

The older man took a bite and nearly choked, as some chilli sauce stuck to the side of his throat on its way down. It burned like hell, making his eyes water and his nose run. He figured it was poetic justice for being a lying bastard He chugged on the beer and eventually the burning subsided, just in time for the teams to come back out onto the ice. Daniel's eyes were locked on O'Neill again as he skated past to get onto the bench and Jack looked up just as he passed Daniel's seat and he smiled. Daniel's cheeseburger did a somersault inside his stomach

Jack sat carefully down onto the bench, wincing. The team physio hadn't had time to give him a massage to loosen up the spasming muscle in the base of his back - one of the superstars had a pain in his finger - so Jack was stuck with the pain until the next interval. He cursed the pretty boys under his breath and his mind wandered as they waited for the buzzer to go. It wasn't his shift first up in any case, so he had a couple of minutes' grace. He looked over at where the young man in the glasses was sitting. Jack could almost feel his eyes boring a hole in the back of his skull. Their eyes met again and this time the young man smiled at him. He had nice eyes, Jack thought, a nice blue, what there was of it. Jack couldn't remember seeing pupils quite that dilated before. They were warm and sympathetic. He wondered if he was good with his hands. Jack smiled back and time seemed to slow down as they looked into each other's eyes.

All kinds of thoughts went through his mind, none of which were for public consumption. It really wouldn't do for an NHL hockey player to 'come out'. He'd never play again. He'd played with gay guys in the minors, but down there it didn't matter. Besides, Jack wasn't gay. Of course he wasn't. He was married He had a very hot little wife at home, thank you very much. The fact that they hadn't had sex for weeks was irrelevant, as was the fact that right about now, Jack wanted to take the young man he was looking at to somewhere quiet and comfortable, and show him exactly how good his stick handling was. He shuffled up as the last shift came back to the bench, and reluctantly broke eye contact with the young man in the crowd as he waited for his own shift change

Daniel's heart was beating a million times a minute. He didn't know how long he and Jack had been looking at each other, but there was sparkage there, Daniel was sure of it. He looked down at his hands: they were shaking. He quickly put them in his pockets and tried to calm his breathing. Could it be true? Could Jack O'Neill actually be interested in him? The rational side of his brain told him not to be such an idiot; that of course Jack O'Neill wasn't interested in him sexually. The guy was straight. Married. And his wife was some piece of eye candy...but Daniel had seen that particular look a hundred times before and it was usually attached to a hard-on meant only for him. Maybe Jack didn't realise the desire that was shining out like a beacon. Daniel sighed. It was a moot point. Even if they were mutually attracted, there was nothing either of them could do about it. He moved to the edge of his seat as O'Neill prepared to take his shift

Brad wasn't completely clueless; he'd noticed the look pass between the two men and wondered if he should just get up and walk away. It was doubtful that Daniel would notice. He decided to stay put for now; it was a crush, that was all. He'd have to get over it at some stage and Brad would be there for him when he did.

Brad had been struck by Daniel's beauty from the moment he clapped eyes on him in the university cafeteria. It had been a warm day, and Daniel had been wearing a tight white t-shirt with faded jeans. Brad had been standing four or five people behind him in the food line and had been hypnotised by the sensuous movement of Daniel's shoulder muscles as he moved along the galley. When Daniel had finally reached the check out and paid for his food, Brad had almost dropped his tray while he watched Daniel's ass cheeks fighting inside the tight denim as he walked over to find a table

Daniel had been a little shy, and reticent to start a relationship with him Brad had been determined however, and finally convinced him to go on a date. He smiled at the memory; he had little interest in the game anyhow and preferred at this point to retreat inside his own mind. At least that way he didn't have to watch his lover's heart leech away

Brad had taken him to see the Red Hot Chilli Peppers in concert and then to a club. They'd ended the evening swaying in each other's arms to 'The One' by Elton John. Brad could remember a slightly tipsy Daniel singing the words to him

'All I ever needed was The One Like freedom fields where wild horses run When stars collide, like you and I No shadows block the sun You're all I've ever needed Ooh baby you're the one'

They'd gone back to Daniel's apartment and spent the night making love. Brad had been pleasantly surprised at how abandoned Daniel was in bed and what a sensitive lover he was. Actually, the sensitive part hadn't been a surprise The man positively exuded compassion. Brad had been deliriously happy for the last eight months and completely head over heels in love, hoping against all hope that he really was 'the one'. Daniel on the other hand wasn't ready to abandon his heart. Brad knew that Daniel cared about him as much as he allowed himself to, but he could also tell that something was holding the older man back.

He'd thought that it was Daniel's first lover, but now, as ridiculous as it seemed, he was beginning to think that the reason Daniel couldn't love him was right there on the ice. He glanced over at his lover, his eyes still fixed on Jack O'Neill, a deep frown clouding his features. It was pointless trying to talk to him. Maybe it would be worth them having a heart to heart after the game. Brad had invested all of himself into this relationship. Surely it wasn't unreasonable to expect the same in return? The more that Daniel showed how deep his obsession really was, the more Brad was inclined to cut loose; find someone who could give him everything. He was no-one's second best, as much as he loved Daniel

Daniel rose suddenly and shook Brad out of his daydream. O'Neill had stolen the puck from one of the Minnesota forwards in the Pittsburgh zone and was breaking away through a gap in the Minnesota defense. He raced up the ice, beating off a slash from a recovering defenseman, and handling the puck with expert skill. He let a blistering slap-shot go from the point, which wrong footed the net-minder and slammed into the back of the net, over the keeper's left shoulder

The arena erupted in a sea of black and gold, flags waving, scarves waving and for the first time since the game began, Daniel acknowledged Brad's presence He threw his arms around the younger man and hugged him tightly, whooping like a madman in his ear

"Did you see it? Did you fucking see that? Holy shit! He's still got the moves. What a slap-shot. Jeeesus! WOOHOO!!! WAY TO GO, IRISH!!!"

Brad smiled, a little sadly. "Yeah, baby. I saw."

Daniel sat down in his seat, still bouncing, breathing hard with a huge smile on his face. The rest of the team was congratulating Jack as he skated back to the bench, searching the crowd again with his eyes. He grinned when he caught sight of Daniel beaming all over himself, and winked. It was good to know he could still cut it and nice to see a face that friendly. No-one had looked at Jack that way for so long he couldn't remember. A part of him wanted to go over there and kiss the guy. Jack sat back down on the bench, the twinge in his back much diminished by the adrenaline coursing through his system. He figured it would take him several minutes to get out of bed the next morning, but it would be worth it.

He'd just scored a goal in the fucking Stanley Cup, eight minutes into the second period. It could be enough to take them to a 3 -2 lead in the series Even if it didn't, the North Stars would have to come back from behind. See if that didn't shut that dumb motherfucker Pankowski up. The exhilaration of scoring was multiplied by the expression on the young man's face. It was hard to miss adoration that obvious and it made Jack feel good. Damned good, in fact. He'd forgotten he had fans of his own. He was an old man in hockey terms and certainly no Mario Lemieux. People tended to leave him alone after games and he quite liked it that way, but sometimes... just sometimes it was nice to know that someone in the world still rated him

Daniel was thrilled by Jack's little gesture and feeling about sixteen years old. He was even surer now that there was sparkage, and still as desolate that it was going nowhere. Daniel was coming to the conclusion that one of two things had to happen; either he had to pull himself together and come back to the real world, which was Brad, or he let Brad go to find someone who could love him the way he deserved and pursue his dream. As that percolated through his mind, another more disturbing thought occurred to him. Now that Jack had scored, it was even more likely that Pankowski would try to take him out of the game. O'Neill would have to be very careful for the rest of the game - Daniel couldn't put it past the defenseman to deliberately injure him

Daniel was particularly watchful during Jack's next few shifts, which thankfully passed without incident. Jack flopped back onto the bench breathing heavily and looking as if the pain was beginning to bother him again. The coach patted his shoulder and spoke briefly to him. Daniel couldn't hear what they were saying, but whatever Jack's request was, it had been denied

Jack grimaced and tried to stretch. He was in agony and had practically begged the coach to let him go to the locker room for an injection of anti-spasmodic into his back muscle. The coach had told him to hang in for another couple of shifts to see if they could consolidate their lead, then he could go. Jack wasn't sure he could play another two shifts, but this was the Cup and everyone had to make sacrifices

Jack gingerly made his way up the bench towards the door. There was no way that he'd be able to do his usual leap over the boards. The call eventually came and Jack skated out with his line, immediately catching up to one of the Minnesota forwards and checking him hard into the boards behind the Pittsburgh net Daniel stood up and yelled out "NOOOOOOO!!!!!" as he saw Pankowski charging towards them.

Jack and the other player were scrambling for the puck against the boards and neither of them saw Pankowski until it was too late. The huge defenseman hit Jack at full speed, hitting Jack with his full weight and slamming his head into the boards. The Minnesota forward's stick was jammed between Jack's legs and as the 300 pound defenseman connected, blackness descended and Jack crumpled onto the ice, unconscious. A split second later, as Pankowski fell to the floor on top of him, both the forward's stick and Jack's leg broke with a sickening crunch.

The colour drained from Daniel's face and he was gripped by nausea. Brad helped him sit down, and he tried to take deep breaths to stop himself from barfing all over the glass. Jack was spark out; at least Daniel hoped that was all. His lower leg was bent at an unnatural angle and Daniel figured that he'd broken both tibia and fibula - badly. It was a career ending injury and Daniel was almost moved to tears, silently praying that Jack would be all right

The game stopped immediately and the Pittsburgh fans exploded in anger, all of it directed towards the Minnesota defenseman currently holding up his hands to fend off various Pens players who seemed intent on taking off his head. The linesmen broke up the fight and escorted Pankowski to the penalty box to await the referee's decision. The medics, carrying a metal stretcher, were being helped across the ice surface by a couple of the rink workers and they crouched down to where Jack lay, still seemingly lifeless

One of them removed his helmet gently after attaching a collar around his neck to immobilise his head, then checked his vital signs while the other carefully inspected his leg, paying close attention to the pulses

"Do we splint it?" one asked

The doctor nodded. "Right now, I'd say a transverse fracture tib and fib and it looks like the bones are displaced. We need to immobilise his leg so that the bones don't move any further. Let's get him splinted and on the stretcher. Call the hospital and tell them to get an OR ready and check his blood group. It looks like a bit of a mess."

Jack groaned and tried to lift his head, moving his arm in the process and eliciting a cheer from the crowd as they saw it. He still wasn't fully conscious and the pain in his leg was indescribable, but Daniel breathed a sigh of relief that at least he'd come to

"What... what happened?"

"You got checked outta the game, buddy. Your leg's badly broken, so we're taking you to the hospital. Just relax. I'm going to give you something for the pain, okay?"

Jack nodded, his face contorted in agony

The doctor pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and tried to work around the padding to give the injection as one of the medics asked, "Will someone call his wife?"

Jack grimaced and mumbled, "Like she'll fuckin' care. Get that guy in the crowd. At least he feels somethin'. Nice eyes. I like him..." then lapsed into unconsciousness again

They gently strapped him onto the stretcher and members of his team carefully carried him across the ice to the locker room and then the medics took over to carry the stretcher out to the waiting ambulance. The doors were shut and the ambulance roared away, sirens wailing

Back in the arena, the atmosphere was turning ugly. The fans hadn't started fighting yet, but in a few blocks it was a close thing and security were much in evidence. The referee spoke to both Captains, and then skated over to the announcer's booth. After exchanging a few words, the referee skated back to centre ice to begin the game again as the announcer informed the crowd

"Number 26, Stan Pankowski, game misconduct for a deliberate attempt to injure."

Pankowski began to protest and was swiftly silenced by his coach

"Get in the fucking locker room you dumb bastard. I'll deal with you later!"

He rose from the bench and stomped down the tunnel back to the Minnesota locker room, smashing his stick from side to side and showering splinters all over the floor

Daniel's first instinct was to leave and follow the ambulance. He'd been to Pittsburgh several times, although he'd never been around for a home hockey game, and he knew where they'd be taking Jack. He had an overwhelming desire to be with him, but Brad laid a gentle hand on his arm

"They'll take care of him, sugar. Let me take care of you. D'you wanna stay, or shall we go back to the hotel?"

"I... I don't know. I... I guess at least if we stay they'll keep us up to date on how he is. They'll probably take him to the University Medical Centre. Oh God. Jack..."

### The End ###

Next: The Puck Stops Here 3