Peekaboo

(This is supposed to be exactly like the first chapter, except Kaner doesn’t get sucked into the portal.)

The ice was freshly zambonied in the United Center, as Patrick Kane of the Chicago Blackhawks launched onto the ice. A lot of his teammates were already there warming up, skating around or stretching. He took two laps around the rink, focusing on his speed. He flew by his friends, high-fiving or fist bumping them along the way.

At the end of his second lap, he spun around to a halt, spraying Jonathan Toews with ice, much to the captain’s dismay. He removed his helmet quickly and tossed his head, shaking his hair. He grinned largely as Jonathan folded his arms and gave him a look, shaking his head. His deep brown eyes seemed to scold Patrick.

“What are we doing, Jonny?” the shaggy haired forward asked, as he ran his fingers through his curly blond locks.

“You’re not going to grow that thing out to a mullet, are you?” the brunette man questioned with concern and worry.

“No, Tazer. My mullet days are over. It was good for 2010 and that’s all. Trust me, I’m not getting another one!”

“Oh, thank God. That thing looked awful on you.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Anyway, I thought we’d all warm up a little first by shooting at the goal.” Jonathan raised his head up proudly and spoke with authority.

Patrick looked around, his blue eyes sparkling under the arena lights. They seemed to glow a light blue in color, almost faded in appearance. “Who’s the lucky goalie who gets to receive my backhands?”

“That would be Crow!” The older man nodded in the direction of the main goaltender, who was going through his normal stretching routine sprawled out on the ice.

“But shouldn’t we be letting Raanta take some. After all, he is the backup!”

“He will, but Crow’s got this one!”

He winked at Patrick and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I noticed the other day that you were having shooting issues. What was going on?”

“Nothing went in. I had so many opportunities, but nothing clicked. It just wasn’t my day.”

“Oh really?” The Chicago captain seemed to be pressing for more. He seemed to know something that Patrick didn’t. But the younger winger had no idea what he was hinting at. “Are you sure there wasn’t something going on?”

“I’m sure. I feel anew and confident! Let’s play!”

“Alright. Kaner, you know you can tell me if anything is wrong. I’m here for you, buddy!”

“I know, Tazer!”

Patrick launched off, scooping a puck into his stick at the blue line. He stick-handled it masterfully around, zig-zagging in a warm-up. His eyes remained down locked on the sight of the disk, before he made his way back to the blue line and shifted his brain waves to think “shootout.” He skillfully skated forward and pulled some sick moves, before he drew Corey Crawford, the goalie, out of his crease and easily darted around and tapped the object into the back of the net.

“Ha-ha, Crow, you should be sharper than that man!”

“You got lucky! LUCKY!!” Corey Crawford struggled to his feet, while attempting to point his stick at Patrick.

Patrick and his fellow Blackhawk teammates ran through their drills and practice. He had to make sure that he could score and that he was mentally ready and focused. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and he wanted to best Sidney Crosby in the leaderboard this year.

Tomorrow the regular season would begin and the Blackhawks had the Dallas Stars. Normally this wouldn’t be much of a match-up, but the Stars had Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn--one of the newest and emerging talented Dynamic Duos in the NHL. They could play and score! And of course they had a third linemate in the Russian kid.

When they had enough, everyone, sore from the hard work and efforts headed back to the locker room to get ready to head home for the day.


Patrick Kane finished stuffing his bag with all of his equipment that he usually carried with him. He snatched up the strap and flung it over his head and shoulder. He brushed his sweat soaked locks on top of his head in the process and he instinctively shook his head to the side. He felt some of the drops of his sweat fly off to the side and land on Jonathan Toews’s locker stall.

“Sorry buddy,” he whispered, as he left it alone, grinning to himself.

He grabbed his two hockey sticks and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway and turned out the light. He looked back at the eerily empty locker room. “It’s good to be back.” He resumed walking out of the arena and headed to his car. At the side of him, Jonathan had finished putting his stuff in his car.

“I mean it, Kaner, let me buy you a hockey stick or something… How about a crown or a tiara?!”

Patrick set his bag down in the trunk of his car and turned to Jonathan. He whipped out Showtime, which hadn’t changed from the silver stick-sword upon the re-entry. He pointed it at his friend, “No tiaras! And you really don’t have to buy me anything, except maybe dinner… How about that?”

“Alright, that’s fair; put that thing away!” Jonathan chuckled, slamming his trunk shut.

Patrick lowered it, laughing. “What should I do with it? Any ideas?”

“You could hang it on your wall or…”

“Or, it could…”

“Put it in the Chicago Blackhawks’ locker room!” they cried in unison.

“Holy-- That is scary Jonny.”

“Great minds think alike.” Jonathan shrugged with a laugh. “Put it in your car though and get in, so I can take you to dinner, Kaner.”

Patrick set the shiny silver stick-sword in the bottom of his trunk and made sure his bag didn’t crunch it. Then he slammed the lid shut to the trunk and locked his car. He walked to Jonathan car and climbed into the passenger seat.

Eventually Jonathan joined him. “Alright, where do you wanna go, Peekaboo?”

Patrick smiled.


THE END!!

Notes

Yay!!!!
We're finished!!!! This story is over!!!! :))))
Yippie!
Hope you all enjoyed this little thing. And once again I'd like to thank you all for reading this and a bunch of stick taps to my friend A Shruinger for helping me out. I couldn't have finished this up without her!! Thanks!!!!! XDDDD
And yeah, that's about it....