Fire in Our Hearts and Ice in Our Veins

"So you're a dancer, huh?" Duncan asked Harley after they had dropped Catherine off on the ride home from the game. The limo was pulsating with the bass of the music they blasted and the buzz from their big win that night had all but worn off. The boys were flailing around embarrassingly to the music, while Patrick and Harley sat on the two seater, giggling at the ridiculous scene before them. Patrick had managed to snake an arm around Harley's waist, and she would have forced him to remove it if she hadn't been so proud of him. The Hawks had won 4-0, and Patrick had scored two of the goals.

"Yup," she replied.

"Considering you still allow him to be in the same room as you, I assume that means you haven't seen the famous Kaner Shuffle?"

"The Kaner Shuffle?" Harley looked at Patrick eagerly waiting for him to explain.

"It's nothing," Patrick barked, turning red.

Jonathan laughed from the back of the limo and yelled up to Harley, "it's what Kaner does when he tries to dance, the kid can't dance for his life."

"You'll have to see it when we go out tonight," Patrick Sharp said, "it's so bad."

"Oh, I don't think so guys. Thanks for the offer but I can't go out. I have a class to teach in the..." Harley was cut off by the sound of groaning coming from each of the boys.

"No negotiation. You're coming with us. We will kidnap you and bring you to the club like that," Brent laughed and pointed at her outfit.

Harley looked down at her clothes, suddenly embarrassed she had gone out like this. She was still in a leotard and spandex, with an oversized Jonathan Toews Blackhawks shersey, which she had cut up at the arena. Harley had purchased the shirt at the game knowing it would drive Patrick crazy. It had. "Fine," she finally answered and all the boys cheered.

***

The club was one that specifically targeted Americans, essentially to keep the tourists out of the Parisian clubs. But it had been recommended to them by their concierge, Jonathan explained to Harley when she had asked why everyone spoke English. Harley could instantly see why the concierge would recommend and American club to them as soon as they had made their way to the front of the line. Everyone knew them, people were calling their name, girls fell all over them, men asked for autographs. They were treated like royalty, there wasn’t a door their names couldn’t open. These boys were gods to these people and they thrived on their fame. But no one seemed to enjoy the attention more than Patrick Kane.

“Keep Kaner away from the puck bunnies,” Harley overhead Jonathan tell Corey, who nodded in return.

She felt so out of place, when they made it to the VIP room. “I can’t go in there,” she told Patrick.

“Why not?” His blue eyes suddenly darkened with concern.

“I’m not an important person, let alone a very important person! I’m nobody!” she exclaimed throwing her hands up. She turned and started making her way back through the throng of people, but a hand caught hers and pulled her back. The club was so crowded she was pulled right into the person’s chest and when she looked up her face was inches away from Patrick’s.

“I think you’re the very most important person in this whole city.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed as she pushed away from him “I bet you say that to all your puck bunnies.”

“Now where did you get a term like that from?”

“Jonathan,” she giggled mischievously.

He finally got close enough to her to put his arms around her back, preventing her from backing up any further. All the sudden his face took on a crazed expression and he stared at her for a few seconds with a wild look in his eyes. Before she knew it he had thrown her over his shoulder and began plowing through people, not putting her down until they were back inside the VIP room.

“I hate you!” she yelled, but the grin spreading across her face told a different story.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Patrick Sharp cut in out of nowhere, to which he received a quick elbow to the stomach from Patrick, “come on lovebirds let’s go take some shots.”

Harley sauntered after him but Patrick hung back. Jonathan caught sight of his best friend alone and walked over. “Aren’t you gonna come drink?” he asked.

“Nah, not tonight,” Patrick said staring off into the distance.

“Why not?”

“I’m just feeling a little sick.”

“Patrick that’s bullshit, you love alcohol so much I’ve seen you drink when you were sick.”

“I just don’t want to do anything stupid.”

“Wow you must really like this girl.” Jonathan was shocked. But Patrick just shrugged and flopped down into a leather chair.

***

After about an hour Harley had begun to feel a little tipsy. She saw Patrick still sitting alone in the leather chair and she snuck up behind him and covered his eyes with her hands. His large hands took hold of her small ones and pulled her hands off his eyes and he tipped his head backwards to look at Harley behind him.

“You’re supposed to guess who it is!” she whined while laughing. He still hadn’t let go of her hands and he pulled her around the chair and onto his lap.

“I guess that it was you,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes. She noted that he still refused to let go of her hand and instead of pulling away she held on tighter and stood up.

“Dance with me,” she said and pulled him by the arm out to the dance floor. He grabbed her hips and began to sway to the beat. “What are you doing?” she laughed pushing him away as she closed her eyes and began to dance. Suddenly a whole crowd of people had formed a circle around her, everyone just watching her move. Soon Jonathan, Corey, Brent, Patrick Sharp, and Duncan had joined her in the center dancing around like idiots. They pulled Patrick in as well and by the end of the song they were able to get him to do the Kaner Shuffle. The song ended and the crowd that had been watching broke apart and went off to dance on their own. All the guys had gone back to the VIP room, leaving Patrick and Harley on the dance floor.

“Harley Callahan,” the words came from a shadowy figure, “you look good girl, real good.” He flashed her a sinister smile.

Harley gasped, looking as if she had seen a ghost, “Trevor…what the hell?”

“You know this clown?” Patrick asked, but they both ignored him.

“I’ve been looking for you. You’ve done a real good job, I almost gave up hope.”

“Patrick get out of here,” Harley said without taking her eyes off of Trevor. But Patrick didn’t budge.

“Yeah Patrick, get out of here, go. Little Miss Harley is done with you now. She’s had her fun but when it gets too real,” Trevor snapped his fingers, “she runs.”

“What do you want Trevor?” Harley asked firmly, but anyone could hear the fear in her voice.

“You couldn’t hide forever, Harley Callahan. A star like you has got to shine,” he played around with a piece of her hair, “and now I’m going to have to get payback.”

“Get away from her,” Patrick warned, coming in between him and Harley so he was face to face with Trevor. All the sudden Jonathan, Duncan, Patrick Sharp, Corey and Brent were behind him.

Trevor sneered and looked over them at Harley, “I guess we’ll just have to wait until you’re alone, Harley. Your fan club doesn’t seem to like me.” And with that he took off into the crowd, leaving Harley so dumbstruck, Patrick had to carry her out of the club. The ride home was silent and soon it was just Harley, Patrick and Jonathan left in the limo.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and sounded terrified. “Will you guys stay with me tonight?” she begged, and they agreed.

In her apartment Jonathan took the guest room while Patrick had offered to take the couch. He walked into Harley’s room and noticed she had been crying.

“Hey Harley?” he spoke, causing her to look up.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t say that to all the puck bunnies.”

“What?”

“You are really important to me. I mean it. I’m just…glad I met you.”

Harley got up off her bed and wrapped her arms around Patrick. He could feel his shoulder was wet from her silent crying and her kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him as if it was the last time she would see him and then climbed back into her bed. He looked at her one more time before shutting off her lights and going back into the living room.

He wasted no time grabbing his jacket and heading out the door, running out into the evening. He went into the nearest internet café, pulling his chair up to an available computer. He went to Google and into the empty search bar he typed “Harley Callahan,” only hesitating for a moment before he hit enter.