Fire in Our Hearts and Ice in Our Veins

The elegant streets of Paris, France made Patrick feel as though he were in some kind of movie. He had agreed to take a walk with his best friend, Jonathan Toews, and Jon was beside him rambling on about how disappointed he had been about losing the game yesterday. Patrick had been upset about the loss as well, this preseason had been a slow one for him and the rest of the Chicago Blackhawks. But he had gotten over it fairly quickly with the help of a few shots of vodka. Jonathan, on the other hand, was the captain and took his position very seriously.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," Jonathan continued to talk, "I just need something to make me feel like we didn't come all the way here for nothing."

Patrick ran a hand through his blonde curls and turned to his friend, ready to give him "it's not that big a deal" speech when something caught his eye. Inside a small ballet studio, which could be viewed through the large glass window, was a ballet class full of small girls. But what he was focused on was the blonde in a black leotard and tights, giving directions to the girls he assumed she taught.

"Well hello something," Patrick breathed, making Jon turn to see what had his friend openly gaping at.

It didn't take long for the young captain to figure it out. He laughed, "yeah good luck with that one Kaner. I'll be over there," he motioned towards a group of girls sitting at a cafe table who had been checking the two of them out and giggling, "trying for some girls we would actually have a chance with." Jonathan walked away, leaving Patrick still staring through the window at the beautiful dance teacher. He mustered up some courage and walked towards the studio. Pushing open the door, a small bell tinkled above his head.

"Je vous en prie, Madame! (Please, Miss)" he heard all the little girls whine. Shit, he thought, he had forgotten he didn't know how to speak French.

"Peut-être demain (Perhaps tomorrow)," the girl sighed.

"Non! C'est ce que vous avez dit hier! S'il vous plaît juste une danse! (No! That's what you said yesterday! Please just one dance)" whined one little girl.

"Tout droit! Mais juste un (All right! But just one)" And with that she started the music and began to dance. Patrick had never seen anything more beautiful or quite like it in his entire life. The little girls all watched her as if she was a god and when she finally stopped, he realized he felt dizzy and weak at the knees. He heard clapping behind him and turned around to see a crowd of parents. He hadn't even noticed them come in.

"Grande classe de jeunes filles d'aujourd'hui, vous voir demain. (Great class today girls, see you tomorrow.)" With that, suddenly he was surrounded by pigtails and leotards, but he decided to wait until they had all left. When they finally did, Patrick approached the girl sitting at a small desk in the corner.

"Can I help you?" she asked without looking away from some notes she was studying.

"Oh...umm," that caught him off guard, "how did you know I spoke English?"

"You look very American."

"Oh...well I'm Patrick Kane."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Kane. Now if there's anything I can help you with?" she looked up at him expectingly. He noticed her eyes were the most amazing shade of blue-green and he allowed himself to get lost in them.

"You aren't going to introduce yourself?" he asked desperately.

"My name is Harley Anderson."

"You're not from Paris then?"

"No, I moved here a few years back from New York City. I'm sorry, did you want to sign up for a class, or?"

"Nope. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime," he said and confidently flashed her his famous smile that made all the girls melt, "like maybe, tonight?"

Her expression became dark and she shook her head, "No thank you Mr. Kane, but I appreciate your offer." She turned back to her work signaling their conversation was over.

"Oh, okay, I'll see you around then, I guess," Patrick said as he backed out of the studio. When he had made it outside the door he looked at her again through the window. He gulped hard, swallowing the pain of the rejection. There was something about her that made it extra hard to take. He felt a large hand on his shoulder.

"So are you two getting married yet, or...?" Patrick turned to see Jonathan grinning wildly behind him.

"Shut up, Tazer."

"Dude, I don't wanna say I told you so, but, I told you so." Jonathan chuckled at himself and threw an arm around Patrick's shoulder pulling him away from staring at Harley. "Don't think too much of it, we'll find you someone else at the club tonight."

"I just wish I had another chance. There's just something about her. I feel like I need to see her again."

"Maybe you can."

"What are you saying Tazer?"

"Isn't that her?" Jonathan asked and took Patrick's head in his hands and pointed it at a sign outside a large building. It was for a performance tonight. Patrick gasped when he saw who the dancer in the picture was. His eyes traveled down the sign to find the name he was looking for: HARLEY ANDERSON.