Buckshot

It was the middle of the night in Chicago, the boys were on their way home and the wives, girlfriends, and (in Buck’s case) chauffeurs were waiting anxiously for the arrival of the team at O’Hare.

Kimberly yawned. It’d been a long day. It was Wednesday, and that was her day for meetings. There were seven meetings today- three with different levels of the management team, one with charitable organizations, another with the accounting team, and then she had to go pick up Elina’s ring from the jewelers. She wasn’t good for much other than being a zombie, but she had to come see her boys home, especially after they had sent her flowers all week. She had to come see Patrick home. It’d been a week since he’d snuck into her room.

She was still reeling from that night, confused that he had been there for her when she was down. She was starting to feel something more than platonic towards him and she wasn’t exactly sure how to cope with that. She shook it off though, and tightened her oversized sweater around her and buried her face into her chunky-knit infinity scarf. Her fleece leggings and boots were doing a fine job of keeping her warm, but she felt that she should have added another layer just to be safe.

The door opened and Brent Seabrook was the first one out of the tunnel, walking with a purpose toward the parking lot. Duncan Keith was not far behind him and met Kelly Rae with a searing kiss that was almost too hot for public consumption.

“Get a room, Duncs!” Harper yelled, causing the players and player families to laugh.

“I have one, Harp. Go find your captain and leave us alone.” He laughed.

Harper shook her head and waited patiently for Jon to come out of the tunnel, and he did, after a few minutes and they kissed sweetly and walked over to Kimberly.

“What are you doing here?” Jonny asked hugging the player liaison.

“Came to make sure my boys got home safely. “ She smiled. “I’m also picking up Kane, since I was almost sure he didn’t want to drive this evening after the week y’all have had.”

“He should be out soon. Patrick was having a hard time getting his bag down from the compartment.” Jon smirked.

“What did you do, Jonny-Toes?” Kimberly chuckled.

“Not a damn thing, but Patrick Sharp fixed it with some glue and he’s probably going to have to cut it to be able to leave.”

Kimberly laughed a little harder when she saw Kane walk out of the tunnel with a scowl and a purpose.

“I’m going to kill him.” He said loudly and pointed to Patrick Sharp.

“You will do no such thing!” Abby said and glared at Kane.

“Fine, I’ll maim him, then. I’ll be nice enough to let him live long enough to see Maddie date some dumb hockey player like her daddy.”

Patrick Sharp’s face paled a little when Kane mentioned a dumb hockey player. “ Never going to happen.”

Patrick Kane smirked and watched as the couple left.

“You’re mean, you know that?” Kimberly said, taking his bag from his hand and walking away.

“Hey! Where are you going with my bag?” He ran and caught up to her.

“To your car, of course. “She said. “You might want to grab your other luggage though; it looks like it’s on the way in.”

“I don’t know how comfortable I am with you driving my baby.” Patrick paused in his quest for his luggage

“Better learn quick, boo. “ She grinned somewhat evilly.

Patrick’s knuckles were white by the time they pulled in the garage, and Kimberly was laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

“Never again.” Patrick said taking a deep breath before unbuckling his seat belt. “I could kill your dad for teaching you how to drive.”

His words made her laugh harder. Kimberly’s dad was a former driving instructor for South Carolina’s police academy and had trained her to drive like a policeman. She could drive safely at high speeds and Patrick’s car had a lot of get-up-and-go.

“Don’t hate me because I drive your car better than you do.” She said, jerking the keys from the ignition and tossing them to Patrick before she opened the door and got out.

He exited the car and popped the trunk, grabbing his two bags while she waited patiently for him. He surreptitiously glanced her way, noticing the way her hand sat on her cocked hip and the way she tapped her foot as if she had some place to be.

“Hurry it up, Kaner, my bed is callin’ my name.” She said, her accent getting a little thicker with the edge of sleepiness.

He smirked and took his sweet time closing the trunk door and moseyed her way, staring her down, daring her to question his motives. He looked her over and noticed boots over leggings, an effortless and completely sexy look for her. He was so used to seeing her in professional clothes that he forgot how good she looked out of them, and then he started thinking about how she would look out of clothes in general and that was NOT a good path to go down.

He shook his head and walked faster, leaving her in the dust. “Come on, Faulkner, I thought you said the bed was callin’ your name!” He said using a very horrible false Southern accent.
Kimberly rolled her eyes and followed him up a few flights of stairs to her apartment door where she opened it and made a bee line straight for her room.

“Night Kaner!” She said before shedding her shoes, scarf, and leggings, and crawling into bed, burrowing deep under her covers.

In the other room, Patrick lay awake, still in his suit. He really needed to reign in his feelings for Buck, but he couldn’t. He was falling in love with her, face first with no mask or gear to protect him and that was dangerous. Knowing how skittish she was with relationships, he couldn’t take the risk just yet. He would have to wait. He told himself again that she was worth it. He told himself again to be patient, but he was only a man and he missed sex. Maybe a quick fling would knock her out of his system.

He physically cringed at the idea of someone else though. Had this been a year ago, maybe a year and a half ago, the story would have read differently. It was sad to say, but he may have actually become a one woman man. Too bad the woman didn’t want him back.
_
Kimberly woke up early the next morning. Seven o’clock on the dot. She listened for the sounds of stirring around, and heard nothing, which meant it was safe for her to run to the coffee pot without having to put on pants. She hated pants, really, but she felt safer wearing layers. She felt better about life when she put some distance between her skin and the outside world.
She threw off the covers, hating the chill, and snuggled deeper into her sweater. She opened the door cursing the fact that it creaked and beat-feet it to the kitchen where the glorious coffee maker had already brewed her regular cup.

“Thank God for technology.” She said out loud and began to add cream and sugar before taking the cup in her hands.

She grasped the overly large cup in her hands and savored the steam as it hit her face. There was just something psychologically bracing about taking the first sip of morning coffee. Kimberly sipped carefully and sighed blissfully, so caught up in the experience that she didn’t hear Patrick pad down the hall.

He was bleary-eyed, and he had practice in 2 hours. He could have slept in a little longer, but he smelled coffee. He used his nose more than his eyes to guide him into the kitchen and stopped when he bumped into Kimberly, making her jolt and spill some of her cup.

“Dammit, Pat.” She muttered, not really in the mood to talk yet.

He grunted, acknowledging her. There was time to talk later, first coffee. He went through the motions of preparing coffee and realized that he couldn’t find the sugar. He bammed the cabinet closed and scowled.

“Where’s the sugar, Buck?” He asked his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Right in front of you genius.” She said to him, putting her cup down and running to her room to slip on a pair of running shorts Patrick had left a long time ago.

Patrick muddled through and made his way to the couch where he sat and stared at the wall for a few seconds, startled when Kimberly spoke.

“You know you didn’t have to wake up.” She spoke, grabbing her cup from the counter and curling up on the chaise part of the sectional.

“No, I didn’t. “ Patrick stated and closed his eyes for a moment. “You didn’t have to put on pants. It’s only me. “

Kimberly shrugged and continued to sip her coffee, staring at Patrick. He cracked one eye open and then the other and leaned forward for his cup.

“Keep staring and I’m going to have to start charging, Buck.” He said.

“I was wondering when you got muscles. That’s all. You’ve always been kind of scrawny.” She said.

He flexed a little and she laughed. “Guess I finally grew into my body.”

“I’ll say.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she face palmed.

“What was that, Buck?” Patrick put his cup down on the table and turned her way.

“Nothin’!” She said quickly.

“No I heard you; I just wanted to hear it again.” Patrick smirked evilly as she placed her cup down so she could cover her face.

“Say it again, Buck. “ Patrick got dreadfully close to her, his hands poised on the outside of her thighs- her most susceptible spot to being tickled.

“Say it or I’ll do it.” He said, adding just a little pressure in his fingertips so that she would squirm.

“FINE!” She yelled when his hands twitched again. “I think you’re pretty!”
She mumbled the last part trying her hardest to back away from his fingers, but he had her trapped.

“Louder this time, with gusto.” Patrick said and started tickling her for the hell of it.

“You are the sexiest man alive! Holy shit! Please stop!” She shrieked
He laughed and his hands went to her sides. Still tickling her, but not nearly as badly as her thighs.

“She thinks I’m pretty without a t-shirt on. She thinks I’m sexy when I play hockey oh whoa oh.” He sang in a falsetto, mocking Katy Perry and making her laugh more. He loved to hear her laugh. It was contagious and lovely, just like Kimberly was.

“You are hardly a teenage dream.” She said, puffing out of breath, moving her hair out of her face.

“Not what you said a minute ago.” Patrick sat back and poked her foot that now lay across his lap.

“I was under duress.” She spoke plainly and cracked up again at his incredulous expression.

With lightning speed and hockey reflexes, his hands were by her head and his face was in her face.

“ You’re a bad liar, Ms. Faulkner.” He spoke, his gaze boring into hers.

His eyes had pinned her in place and swirled with so many shades of blue that it made Kimberly dizzy. She looked away and found his devastating smile. The one that made her knees weak when it was honest. Her eyes got big and she swallowed the lump in her throat, she had fallen for him. He was her best friend! She couldn’t…

Before she had time to think it over, Patrick’s mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss. She responded immediately, surprising herself. She gave up fighting it. She loved him, and she poured every ounce of that feeling behind her kiss, hoping he could feel it too.

When he stopped and sat back, out of breath, and wide-eyed, she panicked briefly.

What had she done? Had she just fucked up 2 years of a solid friendship? She let out a breath and looked over to Patrick who was panting like he’d sprinted a marathon.

“Don’t you dare say I’m sorry, Kimberly Ann Faulkner.” He said. “That was the best damn kiss of my life.”

She smiled and sat up, silently agreeing, and with a quickness she didn’t know she had, she was in his lap, her lips on his, knowing that was where she wanted to be for a good long time.