Chapter 220: Foppa XVII

/N: The dream belongs entirely to Jad, *giggles* Thank you for
letting me use it.





Chapter 220: Foppa XVII—Tiger Cub



Peter was sleepy, his stomach was growling, he was
thirsty, his body was still seeping sweat even though he had just
showered. He yawned between questions posed at him from the
reporters, he glanced down at his sore abdomen and saw that the
bruise across his belly had spread, was blackening in the center. It
wasn't sore yet, it would be later. He was grateful that Keaner,
Blake and Tangs were fielding most of the reporters, those three were
perpetual locker room hams when it came to the cameras and it gave
him an opening to leave a little early.

Peter sighed as he collected his clothes, threw the towel
around his waist onto the bench and that's when he noticed Dru, the
kid was grimacing and icing his knee. He had played today, had seemed
okay in practice and the preskate, but Peter had noticed that the kid
had fielded a lot of extra attention on that knee from the opposition.

"How you holding up Dru?" Peter asked.

Drury shrugged. "Yeah, it'll be fine, it's just sore."

Peter yawned again. "Hey it can't be that bad, you scored
two goals."

Drury grimaced again and muttered something.

What a glum kid, Peter thought. He shook his head as he
got dressed. Drury had the temperament of an old man with
indigestion. No wonder he was more interesting drunk.

"RAWR!"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Peter's cringed and frowned as he left the main locker
room, he could hear some noise going on and as soon as he entered the
side room he was rammed into by a pint size bowling ball and he
staggered and fell back into the wall.

"He's a BEAR! EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"What?" Peter exclaimed recognizing little Mitchell Sakic
as the kid was clinging to his legs. He looked up and saw Patrick
Roy, hunched as if he were still playing goal, lumbering towards
Mitchell with his daughter clinging onto his back. She too was
squealing and giggling.

"RAWR!" Patrick roared with convincing intensity and
Peter raised his eyebrows and pressed a protective hand into
Mitchell's back. "I see a tasty little CUB!"

"EEEEEEEEEE!" Mitchell squealed again. "Nooooooo!"

Peter rolled his eyes, Patty was in a pleasant mood
seeing as he just coughed up four in a tie tonight. At least someone
was happy.

"Peter help me!" Mitchell whimpered and Peter picked up
the little boy.

"Patty," Peter snapped. "You're scaring the kid half to
death, he's cold as ice." The kid was also trembling and burrowing
his face into his chest.

Patrick laughed and slid Jana to the ground as he
straightened up. He smoothed his hair down and tapped Mitchell on the
shoulder, "The bear's gone," he whispered. "You're okay."

Mitchell picked his face up and whimpered. "Really?
Promise?"

Patty nodded. "Yup, I promise."

"Yay!" Mitchell squealed and he reached for Patrick.
Peter gladly handed the kid over and watched how easily Patrick
lifted the boy onto his shoulders and he jogged to the other corner
of the room with him, Jana tagging at his side. Of course Patrick was
used to carrying little boys and girls like that, he was still
watching his children grow up, perhaps one would follow in his
footsteps. He had a legacy in flesh and blood, he had just finished
with a difficult game and here was his reward.

There was a funny pain in his chest. He thought of the
honey colored teddy bear at home, how Jo's fingers looked as she
touched it. What would she look like now if it hadn't happened? Did
she blame him? What did he want, what did she want? What would have
been.

He felt her gaze before he saw it. She was at the other
corner of the room, she had a soft smile on her red lips, her eyes
seemed to be sparkling with tears. What was she thinking? God she was
beautiful! But why was she looking so sad?

"Hey," he mouthed out to her.

She lifted her hand, wiggled her fingers at him and she
looked away, wiped at a tear.

Does she want to leave me? Peter thought as he drove them
home. She had been very quiet through dinner, had not seem to keen on
him, very reserved, stared mostly at her plate. Was that it? She
couldn't seem to bear the thought of making love to him anymore, she
was so polite now. Did she not want to hurt him? Maybe she was afraid
of just that, maybe she blamed him or didn't want to be reminded
anymore of what had happened. It hurt to think of not seeing her,
touching her, smelling her anymore but how much longer could they be
this nervous with each other?

"Hey Peter," Jo finally said in the silence of the
car. "I… Can I ask you something really serious?"

Here it comes, Peter thought. The pain in his gut
intensified.

"Sure," he said.

Jo sighed loudly and she was silent for a moment
longer. "Peter… my apartment… well I haven't been back home really in
over a month, and it's twelve hundred a month to live there… It's
falling apart over there, I mean I've been neglecting things and…"

"You need some money?" he asked.

"No!" Jo said sharply and quickly, "It's not that, it
just seems silly to keep paying for an apartment if I'm not living
there."

"Soo," Peter asked, feeling miserable, "You… you want to
go back home?"

"Do you want me to?" Jo asked.

"Well," Peter said. "I don't want to keep you if you
don't want to stay."

"Who said I didn't…" Jo said. "I mean… do you not want me
to?"

I want you to stay forever, Peter's mind screamed. Please
stay! I'll pay for everything you need. I'll do everything for you
just to stay!

"Uh," Peter said, "No I…"

"You don't?" Jo said in a voice so startled and hurt that
Peter rejoiced to hear it.

"Jo I didn't mean that," Peter said, "I just wasn't sure
if you were sick of me or not."

Jo laughed. "Sick of you? I thought maybe you'd be sick
of me by now, especially if I've been such a drip ever since…"

"Jo," Peter said, "Don't do that, you haven't been a
bother. Nothing you could do could bother me… I…" If I say it will
she run? If I say it do I mean it?

"You?" Jo asked.

"Nothing," Peter said. "Just… do whatever you want hon, I
mean I don't mind if you stay."

"And you don't mind if I leave?" Jo asked.

Peter bit his lip and drove in silence. So she did want
to go. It wouldn't be right of him to stop her. He didn't want to
think about it, the most beautiful creature he had ever had the
pleasure of… and it couldn't last. Somehow this had to be his fault.

"Peter have I done something wrong?" Jo asked after they
were home, he was already in bed and she was slipping out of her
clothes.

"Why?" he asked.

Jo frowned, a gorgeous frown. "You're being so abrupt."

Peter rolled over and closed his eyes. "I'm just sleepy,"
he muttered.



"Peter! PETER! OH MY GOD!"

Peter opened his eyes, it was dark and he could hear her
breathing heavily, almost sobbing. "Peter!" Jo gasped and she sat
up. "OMIGOD are you okay?"

"What?" Peter asked, feeling a bit scared. Josefina
leaned over him, pressing her hand into his cheek. He could feel her
glossy hair falling onto his body, tickling.

"Baby are you alright?" she asked in a mournful voice.

Peter didn't know what to say, he supposed that maybe she
was still asleep and was it safe to wake someone when they were in a
state like this? "Umm…" he said.

"Are you hungry? Do you need some warm milk?" She asked
in a desperate voice, an over eager one. And before Peter could
respond she muttered something about boiling some milk and instead of
sliding off her end of the bed she tried to crawl over him to get
off. Peter gasped in pain as her knee pressed into his bruised
stomach and he jerked and in doing so, Josefina fell off balance and
she tumbled onto the floor with a loud, sickening, thud.

"Oh God!" Peter exclaimed and he sat up. "JO!"

"Do you think you can wait on the milk?" she asked in a
girlish voice.

"Of course!" Peter said and he slid out of the bed and
lifted her warm, lean body into his arms, brought her back into the
bed. "Of course honey, are you okay? You just freaked out on me
there."

"Mmmhmm," she said, "I'm fine, I… think I had another
dream, I'm sorry Peter."

Peter hugged her and fell back into the bed, she lay next
to him and he peered at her face in the darkness, he could only see
the outlines of her. "What was it about?" he asked.

"Oh… it's stupid," Josefina said with a quick, nervous
laugh. "I dreamt… I dreamt that you were hahaha a tiger cub."

"A what?" Peter exclaimed. "You're kidding?"

"No," Jo answered. "Oh God you were this… well maybe not
even a tiger cub like a kitten, with tiger stripes and you were in
this little incubator, and you just wanted to sleep in your little
home and you kept meowing you were so cute. And I had to hold you in
a little blankie and you were so hungry so I kept feeding you warm
milk with a little eye dropper."

Peter smiled as Jo was running her fingers through his
hair, actually scritching at him as if he were a kitten or puppy. He
laughed. "A kitten? I was a kitten?"

"Yeah," Jo said in an airy voice and she leaned over him,
tickled her fingers through his beard. "And that's not all."

"Oh yeah?" Peter asked and he resisted the urge to maul
her as she kissed his forehead. "What else?"

"Hehehe," Jo giggled, "You had on this little black
helmet, like you wear on the ice, and… and a little red beard… and.."

Peter sighed when he felt one of her thighs slide over
his body, her body relaxing over his waist. "A little kitten helmet?"

"And you just wanted to sleep but I kept rubbing your
little belly…"

Peter laughed as she began to rub her hands over his
belly, it was sore but it felt nice. "Really?" he asked. "You dreamt
this?"

"Would I make it up?" she whispered into his ear, "It's
too silly…."

Her hand slid over his belly, moving a little more slowly
and Peter grinned, "How come I'm just a tiger cub?"

"Nah uh," she said, "a kitten! Not even a cub."

Her fingers toyed at the top of his boxers, teased just
inside the fringe of them. The fire began to twinge within him.

"I think I should at least be a cub, or a full grown
tiger," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

"Nah you have to earn it," she said and she kissed him,
softly, deeply, her hand deeper into his shorts.

Peter growled, was disappointed that it wasn't as
fearsome as Patty's bear roar from earlier that night but he pounced
Josefina anyway, delighted at the ecstatic laughter that left her
body, the deep, lusty edge to it. She sighed and he felt her hands
pressing into his back, encouraging him, her mouth was on his throat.
He was nervous at first, afraid that she would push him away again
with tears and apologies, but she didn't. She attacked him with fury,
all the passion he had been missing, had forgotten the complete edge
of.

Afterwards, she fell asleep very quickly and Peter
watched her, held onto her. "Please don't leave me," he whispered. "I
need you."