A/N: Jad you ROCK!

Chapter 382: Mimi XXXIX—Little Monster

“Oh and big man gets his feelings hurt by puppy’s yapping yes?” Michele snapped. Her mind rocked with indignation, how could a man threaten her child like that, one of Patrick’s friends no less! Smack him around? She would pin him down and skin him raw if she weren’t so damn tired. “It couldn’t have been that bad Adam, I’ve never threatened to harm your babies I will thank you to show me same courtesy yes?” Felt her eyes blister with heated hate and she directed the glare at Adam, and the way he lowered his eyes, well it told her she had won. Clumsy, oafish, impotent bastard!

“Eloquently put Meems.” Keaner barked. He had that nasty twinkle in his china blue eyes that used to set her chest pounding with giggling excitement and anger. She remembered it best when he would tease her, especially about her misuse of the English language when she was just learning it. Carroty little bastards, she realized that he was probably looking for a rise out of her temper right now! She should push Adam aside and claw his burning little ears right off his head.

The line change arrived at that moment, however and Michele really couldn’t waste time thinking about what she would love to do to these men who annoyed her so. Still, the way Keane rubbed his hands together, practically leering at Mike Modano as the man arrived to the boards, turned her tummy with something not exactly rageful, and certainly a little nostalgic. Funnily enough, the expression on Mike Modano’s face resembled closely the one Adam Foote had had when he’d arrived.

Dan Hinote hopped over the boards and Modano jumped on the bench and Michele saw Keaner slide up next to him as she stood up. “Aw what happened sweet stuff?” Keaner asked loudly in a gruff and amused voice. Michele wrinkled her nose, it had to be the sour sweat and heat, but the voices and bodies around her were making her increasingly irritated and aroused.

“That boy…” Modano gasped. “He’s… he’s satanic…”

Satanic? Was he talking about Jonathan? He could burn in Hell for the rest of eternity with the rest of them! Michele couldn’t believe what she was hearing here; to hear these disgruntled men speak one would think they were in the midst of a playoff game. “OH really!” Michele snorted as she took to the ice. “He’s just a puppy!”

Her cheeks blistered with anger and she looked down the ice towards Jonathan, her son, her beautiful son who so far had had a wonderful game, and she was proud of him! Her poor baby, she couldn’t believe the men were taking his game that seriously! In a way, she wanted to take the puck and keep it away from Jonathan and her teammates, just to protect her son.

As it was, Chris Drury had the puck, and Michele saw him darting towards a shooting lane. She began to skate towards Chris but instead of shooting, he passed the puck to Cecile who shot it. Steve Hartley made the save and directed a rebound to his right. Joe Sakic picked it up and Michele narrowed her eyes, this darling of line wouldn’t score anything more while she could help it.

Keeping her eyes on that dark, graceful throat on Sakic, and running her tongue over her lips, Michele scrambled forward after him. Joe unloaded the puck but that didn’t stop Michele and she cried out as she slammed into his side.

“Whoa!” Joe cried and they both fell to the ice, Michele landed on his body, large and hard with gear and reeking of third period sweat. Mmm how delicious, she wished she had him in the dark right now, her fingers pinning his wrists down, her teeth on that stubbled chin of his.

“Oh hello Joe,” she grinned.

“That wasn’t a bad hit,” Joe said with a grimace and raised eyebrows.

She rolled off him and she saw the play headed into the neutral zone, and she wasn’t sure who had the puck. “You might want to calm down your little display with Cecile, yes?” She said as they got up.

“Why, cause you’re afraid of losing?” Joe asked. He half grinned, and looked so damn feral and sweaty that she wondered how Debbie could have ever been dissatisfied with his performance with her. Even bad with Joe had to be better than amazing with other men, but of course, this thought had crossed her mind a million times before.

“No but it is driving Debbie mad with jealousy,” She purred.

Joe’s face paled and he stopped skating and stared as if terrified or heart broken. “Really?” he exclaimed. “I, I, it’s just a game!”

“Well she’s fragile, yes?” Michele purred. “Something to think about eh?” And she skated away from him, towards the group as they buzzed around Jonathan’s net. There, that should help the team. If Joe was worried now about how his play with Cecile on his line made Debbie feel, then they probably wouldn’t be as effective. Games were often more psychological than physical, and she hoped that she’d done her share to help her team.

She spent the remainder of her shift lingering at the far wing, not really wanting to enter the entire hullabaloo around Jonathan’s net. She could see Debbie real near the crease, tapping her stick at an unprotected side of the net, wanting a loose puck Michele knew she really should be in there and grinding to send over to her. But dammit she was tired, her legs and ligaments were stretched and cramped beyond all recall and she was just ready for this game to end, regardless of the outcome.

She yawned and then she saw Jonathan pounce on the puck in his crease and hold it up to signal the referee for a whistle. Ah she wanted to applaud for him or blow him a kiss, but she merely grinned and nodded. She yawned again and she skated towards Debbie as they went back to the bench for a new line change. A nice massage after the game, a steam room, a fat slice of cheesecake, she wanted to tell Debbie that that would be the first thing to get after this game but the completely distraught look on Debbie’s face stoppd her lips.

“Debbie, darling what’s wrong?” She asked.

Debbie’s bottom lip trembled and they stood briefly outside of the boards before getting onto the bench. “That… Jonathan…”

Michele frowned. “What about him?”

“He, he called me a bottom feeder while I was waiting for a pass.”

“What?” Michele asked and she patted Debbie on the forearm. “Oh well, no goalie likes the opposition poaching on the empty side of a net yes? It’s not so bad, it’s just a little yapping yes?”

Debbie sniffled. “He said that, that bottom feeders eat shit and if I kept it up I may very well just die with an overflowing colostomy cause shit eaters die shitty…..”

Michele’s mouth dropped open. Jonathan knew very well that Debbie’s disease included the danger of ending her life after surgeries and colostomy’s, she couldn’t believe that he would openly taunt Debbie with it, not after everything she had been through in recent years. But Debbie wouldn’t lie about something like that! Well, she knew how competitive Jonathan could be but… “He really said that?”

Debbie nodded and a couple of tears fell from her cheeks. “Uh huh.”

Michele scowled. “That little shit, he said that?”

“Yes he did!” Debbie cried. “I didn’t know he thought that badly of me!”

Michele jut her chin out glaring in the direction of her son. Her little shit of a son.

“Not such an angel now huh Mimi?” Adam Foote said glumly.

“Oh you shut up,” Michele snapped. She didn’t sit down on the bench; instead she leaned over the boards watching the play. She needed to tell Jonathan to calm his game down before he irreparably damaged someone’s psyche, or she needed to grab the boy by his ear, bend him over a chair and beat the shit out of him, whichever crossed her mind first when she got within his proximity.

She didn’t have too long to wait. A few thirty second shifts and her line went back on the ice. The play went down low around Jonathan’s net and this time Michele shoved and jostled her way into her boy’s crease. Jonathan didn’t seem to notice her however, or be too interested in her presence, his eyes were wide and blue and she could tell they were fixated on the puck. It came to her stick and before she shot it she decided to distract him a little, josh the boy. “Your mother’s a lesbian,” she said with a grin reminding him of his favorite film. And then she shot the puck.

Without even looking at her, Jonathan swatted the puck away and said under his breath just loud enough for her to hear in French. “Naw she ain’t, not when she’s too busy trying to get into Dan Hinote’s pants.”

Michele’s blood crystallized to ice.

“Now get outta my crease, ho!” Jonathan bellowed and he jammed his stick into Michele’s ankles. He really didn’t do it that hard but Michele was so shocked and hurt that she fell backwards onto her butt.

My boy is a monster! She thought, a monster!