Who the Hell is Lord Stanley - Part 2

by Nelson




"A divorce?" Dane asked with concern. "Are you serious?"

Wes crossed his arms over his chest and said tersely, "You cannot take hockey. Period."

Period? Dane scrubbed his palm over his eyes. Wes couldn't even talk without using hockey terminology. The fact that he didn't mean a period of hockey was worse than him talking hockey. It was another sign that he didn't respect Dane's authority. Authority that he himself had granted Dane. Wes seemed to forget that more and more often. The rules were stupid, that's not what he thought Dane meant, he'd do it next time. The list went on and on.

"Wes, you gave me the right to call the shots. I'm calling them."

"I gave you that right because I trusted you," Wes said. "Now, I'm not so sure."

Dane was floored. "That is *not* fair, Weston. How can taking hockey away for a week - *one* week – be enough to make you lose trust in me?"

"Because you know how much it means to me."

"Exactly. It's discipline."

"It's cruel! We aren't just talking about a single game. That would be bad enough. We're talking about the playoffs! And you're being selfish!"

Dane looked at his partner incredulously. "Selfish? What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Wes spat. "You'd like nothing better than to not have to hear about hockey for a week."

Dane hesitated then agreed. "You're right. Do you realize why?"

"All I know is that as my partner, you should at least try to share things with me that I like and you don't."

"'Like'? It's more like 'obsessed about'."

"So I like it a lot," Wes admitted. "All the more reason you should make some attempt to enjoy it."

Dane paused, gathering his thoughts. Wes didn't get it. It wasn't the sport he didn't like, it was how it consumed Wes that got to him.

Besides, it wasn't like they focused on the sport Dane liked. Dane asked, "How many baseball games have watched together?"

"I don't know," Wes replied irritably. "What does baseball have to do with hockey?"

"Nothing. But it's something I like. How many?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, I do. Two."

Wes huffed irritably and said, "Oh, come on, Dane. You rarely watch it on TV anymore and what about those Nationals tickets I got for us?"

"It was raining," Dane said. "I can't control the weather."

"No, but the point is I thought of you," Wes said bitterly.

"You did, and I appreciate that. How many hockey games have we watched together?"

Wes looked away and shrugged.

"Just a guess," Dane urged.

"I don't know," Wes mumbled, his ire beginning to dissipate.

"You know what? I don't know either," Dane admitted. "I lost count several games and multiple bars ago."

Wes rolled his eyes and met Dane's stare. "I like hockey," he reiterated.

"Yeah, I know. And that's why I've let you drag me from bar to bar looking for the game, not once, not twice, but several times, leaving even after we've been seated because whatever bar we chose didn't have the game on. Then after we've scouted another bar, I've sat through the entire three plus hours even though I didn't like it."

"Yeah, and you hid that so well," Wes said bitterly.

"I'll give you that. By the time we found the game – whichever one we were chasing – I was not in the best of moods, no. How many cities have we done that in?"

"I don't know. I've told you to go back to the room if you didn't want to go. I can go by myself."

"Yeah, that's really appealing, isn't it? But while we're on it, why not watch it in the room? Cuddled together with a beer or something? At least then I could read or do something I enjoy and we could still be together?"

"I don't *want* to stay in the room when we're traveling! I've told you that!"

Dane nodded. "And I don't like wandering around cities we don't know, hoping to stumble into the right bar that has the game on."

Silence hung between them creating a wall that was almost tangible.

Dane said, "You said you wanted a divorce? I'm already a hockey widow. I seriously think if it came down to me or hockey, you'd pick hockey."

Wes thought for a minute and said, "I wouldn't want to give up either of you."

"You might imagine how that makes me feel. Nothing I like comes close to how I feel about you. Nothing."

"I wouldn't give you up for hockey. I shouldn't have to."

Dane said, "And I'm not asking you to. I'm only asking that you recognize how it comes between us and understand why I might not be thrilled about hockey. It's almost like it's the other man, so to speak."

Wes sighed and turned to look out into the night. "So what do we do?"

"I don't know," Dane said honestly. "The bad thing is I honestly used to like the game a little. I didn't follow it like I do baseball, but I enjoyed going to games occasionally. Now it's nothing but a barrier between us."

"I don't want it to be that," Wes said, turning back to Dane. "I just want you to like it at least a little bit. I know I go overboard with it, but I love the sport. I can't help what I like, and I'd be thrilled if you at least pretended to like it a little."

"I don't ask you to pretend," Dane said.

"Well, I don't know what to do," Wes exclaimed in defeat, throwing up his hands. "There's no way I'll stop liking hockey."

"I've never asked you to. I'd rather you at least consider how I feel when you dismiss a waitress after she tells you they don't have the NHL package. Whenever I've complained about leaving, when we stay, you pout about it."

"Right, and if we leave, you pout."

Dane snorted a laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, I do."

"So what are we going to do?"

Dane shrugged and thought for a moment. "Well, there's one thing that would fix this aside from divorce."

"What?"

"Any chance they might go on strike again?"

Wes gaped at Dane. "Don't *even* joke about that."

"That was the best year of our marriage," Dane said with a chuckle.

"You're not funny," Wes said levelly.

"I do know a few things that would help," Dane said seriously.

"Ok," Wes replied cautiously. "What?"

"First, don't drag me around from bar to bar again. If they don't have the game, so be it. Do the legwork in advance and take me to the one with the hockey game to begin with."

"Sometimes, I can't do that. How could I research that in Italy?"

"In those cases, agree to take your chances. I already don't like the game, but couple that with traipsing from bar to bar on a hockey scavenger hunt does nothing to make me like it any better."

"It will depend on the game."

"See! You're obsessed!" Dane huffed loudly and said, "There's no middle ground. It's always a 'major' game of some sort. There's no such thing as a hockey season. It goes year round."

"It does not. There are three months that they don't play," Wes said. "And every game isn't a 'major' game."

"Seems like it. If it's not major, why is it always so important?"

"Because I *like* it," Wes stressed.

"Maybe we need to limit our trips to the sole three months they don't play then. If it's really three months," he added, disbelieving.

"It *is* three months and maybe we should do that. We know what bars have the games on here."

Dane said, "That might work on the bar hopping thing but what about the nights you come to bed at 2 or later? As hard as you work, you need your rest and you agreed to that."

"I'm not tivoing the game, so don't even suggest that again."

"Fine, you tell me what the compromise is then. You need your rest, yet you refuse to get it if it interferes with hockey."

"I don't need that much," Wes said.

"That isn't the point. You know that I expect you to get at least six hours of sleep – seven would be better – and still get to work before noon."

"I know," Wes said, annoyance creeping into his voice. "I hear about it every time I come to bed late or sleep in."

Dane was struck by the tone of Wes' voice coupled with what he was saying. Was he really that annoyed with Dane? Did he really see him as a nag when he was only looking out for him? Yes, he supposed Wes interpreted it that way and he knew why.

Dane took a deep breath and clasped Wes' hands in his own. "You think I nag a lot, don't you?"

"Would it be rude to say 'well, duh', here?"

"Yes, it would, but I get the point. I've failed you, Wes. I'm sorry."

Wesley blinked at Dane and a frown crossed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about our relationship. My role is to provide stability and boundaries. We agreed to all this stuff we're arguing about now a long time ago. My job was to enforce the rules. I haven't done that."

"So you said earlier," Wes said sarcastically.

"I know I did, but it's more than that. Griping at you when you break the rules is not discipline. It's annoying."

"It is. And taking away my hockey game was cruel."

Dane nodded and said, "I can see how that might be cruel in your eyes. It wasn't my intent. I wanted to make an impression so you wouldn't do the same things again. I knew if anything would get your attention, it would be hockey, but I should have considered that more instead of focusing on myself."

"I knew it. You did try to take hockey from me because you hate it so much."

"No, that wasn't it. What I meant was…" Dane paused. How should he put it? The only way he knew was to come right out with it. "You see, the problem is I've thought several times since we decided to use discipline that you should have been spanked. I haven't done it. I gripe and nag and bluster, but I don't take action."

"That's ok, Dane," Wes interjected. "Really."

"I'm sure you think it's ok," Dane said. "But I'm not doing what I know is right. I make excuses to myself as to why it isn't necessary. Look at tonight. I know in my heart that if you ever deserved to be spanked it's for today."

"But you said not this time," Wes reminded him.

"I've said that every time you've broken a rule or I've at least implied it, haven't I?" Dane asked. "I swear, sometimes I think you're doing things just to see if I'll do anything about it."

"You won't," Wes said confidently.

And there it was. Dane had known it all along. Wes had been pushing him to test the boundaries, getting farther and farther away from where he should be. It was all Dane's fault for not bringing him back to where he needed to be, especially considering the fact that he wondered if that's what Wes had been doing. Wes had all but asked for it and he had sorely let Wes down, knowing he needed tangible consequences. It was the very reason they had decided to include discipline in their relationship in the first place. Wes had started pushing only slightly at first, breaking a small rule here and there, but Dane realized sadly that he had allowed it to escalate to the blow-up they had that day.

"Dane?" Wes asked, worry creasing his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dane said, then recanted. "No, that's not true. There's a lot wrong."

"What?" Wes asked. "We'll be fine, Dane. I'll eat, I'll go to bed. I won't give up hockey, but –"

"Wes, I'm not getting it done. I know what I need to do but I'm not sure how to make it work."

"Us?"

"The discipline part of 'us'. I think it's the right thing to do, but –" Dane searched for words, "I'm at a loss."

"Take some other TV show from me then," Weston recommended. "Ground me from everything but hockey."

"If it doesn't matter to you, then it's pointless. The fact that you're suggesting it tells me it isn't a consequence," Dane said. "We need help."

Wes rolled his eyes and said, "Well, don't expect me to go asking around the office…"

"I'm not asking you to do that any more than I'd do it myself," Dane said.

"Where are we supposed to find help then?"

"I'm not sure," Dane said, thinking. "Wait a minute. Remember that place we found online when we were thinking about doing this?"

"Which one?" Wes asked. "There were about 10 pages of crap."

"Not the crappy stuff. One of the ones that talked about what we were looking to do. Not the leather and lashes sites. Remember that place in the Caribbean or something?"

"That Island place?" Wes asked. "What? Now you want to send me to obedience school?"

"No, no, I'm not looking to 'send' you anywhere," Dane said, shaking his head. "They have stuff for couples, too. I remember it. Seems like to me they had stuff that lasted one week. Or was it two?"

"I don't know, Dane," Wes said, uncertainly. "Anyone can set up a webpage."

"If they're on the up and up, I'll bet they have references."

"You're seriously thinking about this," Wes commented in surprise. "We can figure this out on our own. We'll get it."

"Yeah, look how well we're doing with it now. I think we should check on that place."

"Seriously? But why?"

Dane took Wes' hand and met his eyes. "Because I believe – like I did when we decided to do this – that it's the best thing for you and us. We just need a little guidance or something."

Wes could see the determination in Dane's eyes. Dane believed in him, he believed in them. If he thought this Island place might help then he trusted him enough to look into it.

"Ok. If you think we should check it out, I'm willing to do that," Wes said. "But if it turns out to be like Exit to Eden…"

"The book or the movie?" Dane asked with a smile.

"*Either* one."

"It won't be. They weren't BDSM at all. That much I remember for sure." Dane leaned in and kissed Wes tenderly. "We're going to get this right."

"I know we will. I'm really sorry about today. And tonight. And about all the hockey I've dragged you to."

"I'm sorry for letting you down and for not liking hockey."

"Love you," Wes said.

"Love you, too. Let's get to sleep," Dane said, leading Wes to their bed. "You need your rest and it's going to be nowhere near six hours."

"Daaaane!" Wes said with an exaggerated groan. "Nag, nag, nag…"

Dane took a playful swing at Wes' butt and connected more solidly than he intended.

"Ow! Hey!" Wes said, climbing under the covers quickly.

Dane laughed and cuddled up to Wes, drawing him close. "Sorry, babe. But you did deserve that and more."

"You're nagging again," Wes said with a sigh. "I wasn't that bad today."

"You're pushing again," Dane pointed out.

"Am not."

"And I'm not nagging."

"Oh, you *so* are!" Wes laughed.

Dane released a long breath. "Goodnight, Weston."

"Goodnight."

The few minutes of silence were broken when Wes spoke again. "Dane?"

"What?" he mumbled.

"What if we can't find that place? Or what if it's not for real and it's some bogus website or something?"

"Why don't we worry about that if we find out it's true? Until then, let's hope they're for real and can help."

"Ok," Wes said. "I hope you're right."

"Me, too."

"Goodnight."

"'night."

TBC