ice is my life!

Clover giggled lightly and began unfurling her tiny fists, torn between reaching for Adelaide and whipping her head to the side, amused by Greyson's insistent pleas.

"Paul? Yeah. He's the quiet one." Sean smiled, thinking of his brother fondly. He wasn't aware he'd exchanged anything but polite hello's with Adelaide. He hadn't been quoted in her article that week, anyway. "The others behave a lot more like... well."

A tiny whimper fell from Clover as she strained towards Adelaide, brow furrowing.

"M'literally right here," Greyson said.

Slowly, Adelaide's eyebrows rose upwards when Clover began straining against Sean's hold on her, practically dangling herself in Adelaide's direction. At Sean's question, she looked up at him unsurely, remembering how taken aback he was that first day at the rink when he'd found her sitting alone with his daughter.

She supposed that time, and Clover sitting rinkside with Adelaide at many a game, had reassured Sean that handing his daughter over to her wouldn't put her in any immediate danger of being eaten alive by the witchlike Miss Davies.

"Sure," Adelaide said, holding her arms out for Clover.

Once the little girl was neatly situated in her lap, it meant the plate was further away from Clover than she apparently liked. Adelaide didn't have any free hands right now to bring the plate closer, which meant that Clover let out a cry that turned into an immediate sensory attack.

Plonking Clover in her lap, he watched as she immediately began reaching for the muffin. Clover didn’t have her words, she hadn’t mastered please and thank you - no matter how much Sean had tried to teach her - and instead she let out a cry.

Adelaide reacted immediately, curling in on herself as Clover’s sharp yell pierced the air. Sean’s reaction time was just as quick, one hand under Clover’s armpit to hold her steady, though Adelaide’s reaction hadn’t loosened her hold whatsoever.

Without thinking, Sean steadied a hand just above Adelaide’s knee, squeezing her pale skin where her skirt had lifted.

“Adelaide.” he breathed, worry colouring his tone as he ducked his head. “I can take her.”

His hand braced against her knee, he studied her face for signs of frustration. Some people only liked babies when they weren’t fussy. But instead her brow was furrowed in something like…

Sean didn’t know.

↳INSTAGRAM: @jamesyhan11 uploaded a photo:

"For me?" Adelaide smiled, gratefully accepting the crumb in the palm of her hand while Greyson made a scoffing noise from the other side of the table.

"What? No way! Clover, m'the better Davies by far," he said, practically folding himself in half across the tabletop in his bid to get the little girl's attention. "Clover, I like cake too! And m'fun!"

Rolling her eyes, Adelaide looked up at Sean and, for a moment, they were united in the unpleasant business of being the youngest sibling.

Clover giggled lightly and began unfurling her tiny fists, torn between reaching for Adelaide and whipping her head to the side, amused by Greyson's insistent pleas.

"Paul? Yeah. He's the quiet one." Sean smiled, thinking of his brother fondly. He wasn't aware he'd exchanged anything but polite hello's with Adelaide. He hadn't been quoted in her article that week, anyway. "The others behave a lot more like... well."

A tiny whimper fell from Clover as she strained towards Adelaide, brow furrowing.

Sean, of course, did the explosion, and Greyson looked like all his Christmases had come at once.

"Where'd y'find him?" he beamed, although there was nothing kind about a smile like that when worn by Greyson Davies. In lieu of answering him, Adelaide simply directed her attention towards Sean and Clover instead.

"We'd be having a much nicer time if he was Micah," she said.

She looked back down at Clover who was eyeing the muffin on Greyson's plate with open desire.

"Huh, no way." he said, voice bordering on sarcasm - however unintentional.

He watched as Adelaide steered the plate closer, looking up at the brother and sister for their combined approval. Adelaide's attention was a hundred percent fixed on his kid, though. And besides, Clover's hands were already banging on the side of the plate, tipping the muffin sideways.

When Sean hid behind his daughter like a coward, Adelaide was forced to contend with the strong taste of marshmallows in her mouth and a significant softening in her chest. Her nose crinkled a little when she returned Clover's smile, helpless to do anything but in the face of Sean's daughter's manipulative adorableness.

And then both father and daughter were moving. Towards her usual table and her brother who continued to wear a shit-eating grin.

"Peter Rhodes, may you feel my wrath in Philadelphia," she muttered, sending out a curse to Rhodes who was on some sort of away match for boxing. Whenever he went away, Adelaide was saddled with Greyson and that was a task no one wanted to undertake, especially sober or uncaffeinated.

She followed Sean to her table, where Greyson was still grinning at Sean's outstretched fist.

"Wha's he doin'?" he slurred, looking far too pleased with himself.

He withdrew his fist, opening his fingers in mimicry of an explosion, the 'pew!' sound slightly flat sounding as he laughed off the moment.

He kicked his chair back so he could sink into it, repositioning Clover atop his knee. He could practically hear her surveying her surroundings with confusion, chubby fingers grabbing the edge of the table.

"You're... Greyson?" he guessed, thinking about the brother Adelaide mentioned most often. "Not Micah?"

She continued to blink at him, unimpressed as he stated he'd never even really started on coffee, drawing up yet another comparison between the two of them that just highlighted how incompatible they were. Adelaide had come out of the womb craving an espresso.

"Luckily I'm not inclined to waste my coffee on a day like today by using it as a weapon," she said, without properly answering him.

Just as she was about to say her goodbyes, Greyson piped up again. Because of course he did.

"Is the hockey guy joinin' us or what?"

When it came to the inevitable murder trial, Adelaide was sure no jury could blame her when they heard her side of the story.

Coward that he was, he continued to hide behind his daughter, absently pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Half to soothe himself, half to remind Adelaide that he had a little girl he loved dearly and who relied on him for a lot, actually, so he would quite like to stay in the land of the living.

He still didn't know if she was gonna dump her coffee on him.

"Huh." he said, looking at her brother, unsure if his facial expression was bemused or irritated. He doubted her brother was a Rangers fan. Mostly because they kind of sucked this year. But also because Adelaide had made it very clear she was not a Rangers fan. But hadn't Adelaide said his boyfriend was a boxer, or something? Maybe he too just really liked contact sports.

Sauntering quickly past Adelaide before she could change her mind, he placed his cup down at her usual table, if only cause his arms were getting real tired.

Perhaps she would enjoy the look of mortification on Sean's face when the caffeine had properly infiltrated her system. A few sips could only do so much to temper her early morning moods.

"Aw, shut up," came Greyson's drawl as he turned into far more of a presence (read: nuisance) in the current conversation than she would like.

"Just the ones you're related to?" he tried, face stretching into a too-wide grin in an attempt to get her to laugh. "Bad joke. Awful. I think you're the last woman who would - well -"

He groaned internally. Zero points to Sean Carolan.

"Only every day of my life," she remarked, uncharitably.

She glanced over her shoulder, scowling right back at Greyson and mouthing one minute with all the childish impatience she usually exhibited around her brother. The relation was normally stark to most people who came across the pair and their usual bickering. Sean, however, was barking up the wrong tree entirely.

It appeared that when he noted her brother's charming good looks, he'd completely forgotten to mark the obvious similarities between the two siblings. Blonde hair, same frustrated scrunch of the nose. Definitely a Davies.

"Oh, God." he echoed, all the color draining from his face. "I'm so sorry."

Clover kicked her feet animatedly.

"No, it's not," she lied.

It was, and Greyson's booming voice from the other side of the cafe exposed her lie immediately.

"Got our usual table!" her brother called out. Adelaide remained facing forward, hoping that Sean would assume the words were for some other unfortunate in the building.

"Addie." Greyson simply wasn't going to take his foot off her neck, was he?

She sighed quietly.

Peering just over her shoulder, Sean caught sight of a man who appeared to be glaring daggers at the back of Adelaide’s head. He cleared his throat, gesturing awkwardly with his head at the insistent man.

“Is he calling you?” he asked.

His stomach plummeted at the sound of the man calling her Addie, the nickname that was strictly off limits to Sean. But very much available to the handsome, sandy haired man at Adelaide’s usual table.

"She certainly packs a punch," she commented. It had taken her a few seconds to get her bearings again, after all.

Her eyes dipped down to the steaming cup of hot chocolate in his hand. Annoyingly, she felt like her own weakness against heat was being challenged as she continued to nurse her own iced coffee.

“She was raised on contact sports.” he tried to joke, the corner of his mouth turning up halfheartedly.

Hoisting Clover up, his eyes travelled down to the to-go cup he was clutching in his other hand, Clover’s butterfly-covered backpack dangling from his wrist.

“I don’t drink coffee.” he admitted, the blush that constantly lived on his cheeks when he was around Adelaide Davies threatening to show itself again. “But I like sugar. And I need it to keep up with her.”

He smiled, nodding at Adelaide’s own cup.

And where Clover was... Adelaide lifted her head. Ah, yes. There he was.

Coins clattering to the countertop, Sean snatched up his drink and scanned the floor for a small blonde in a dungaree dress.

“Clover!” he called, picking her up off the floor and swinging her into his arms. Only to be met with…

↳INSTAGRAM: @hold_em_golden uploaded a photo:

It takes a village to raise a child. That was how the saying went, and Sean Carolan was the finest proof of it. He’d gathered Clover close and protected her from a loveless home and had built a new one for her instead, filled with bedtime stories from Kai and cuddles from Libby, unwanted mushy meals from Izzy and big, oversized puppy licks from Zeke. He had no shortage of helpers where his daughter was concerned, and Gabe thanked his lucky stars every day that the other man hadn’t been made to do it all alone. He liked to think that it was a combination of the love and support he received that helped him maintain the innocence and whimsy he was still holding onto. Gabe hadn’t had the same such luck, so it was good to know that Sean could still be the man he’d always loved and adored. 

It was with those thoughts in mind that caused Gabe to rich up with his free hand as he pinched his buddy on the nose, laughing softly at the way his skin had crinkled in disapproval. Sean could lament the lossof Gabe’s place on the team all he liked, but he wouldn’t budge. He owed it to Emily and to himself, but he also owed it to Blair too. She hated him enough as it was now without him leaving her high and dry halfway through the year. 

“Hey, cut it out,” Gabe gently scolded him, retrieving his hand as he gave his chest a hearty clap. “You saw the name on this jersey, bud. This didn’t come cheap and you know it. You’re still the top dog as far as those fans are concerned.” 

He grinned, knowing Sean was sure to blush under the compliment, but it was true. His name still brought a lot of revenue to the club. He was undoubtedly a fan favourite and his jerseys flew off the shelves like hotcakes. The Han’s and the Starling’s did pretty well for themselves too, the newer blood seeming to draw out a younger crowd, but there was no denying that the guys and gals that came out to watch the Rangers could still appreciate a silver fox. Not that Sean was there yet, his golden locks still holding strong, but he had a lot more fans than he gave himself credit for. And Gabe knew better than anybody just how fond Obie was of him. 

“Well, I’d better stop ya right there, Seanie. She’s not my young lady by any means,” Gabe grimaced, before dramatically searching their surroundings, as if he thought Blair might pop up unannounced from behind the bar. “And I don’t doubt for a second that she wouldn’t kick your butt for saying it, either.” 

He chuckled heartily, trying not to let his skating partner’s obvious disdain for him get to him too much. It was part and parcel of the craft, he supposed. You couldn’t always get along with your colleagues, try as Gabe might, and Blair in particular ran a tight ship. He’d never been late or missed a practice, but she always seemed to be there, already with a sheen of sweat across her brow, as though she’d done several laps of the rink while waiting for him to show his face. Wherever the goalposts were, they seemed to keep on moving and Gabe wasn’t sure he’d be on target ever again. 

“Hey, be my guest! I’d love to see a little more of Clover, if she’ll have me,” he agreed enthusiastically, trying with all his might to keep the tightness out of his smile. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d ignored Sean’s question of whether he enjoyed figure skating, unsure how to put it all into perspective for the other man. It seemed like a lot of ground to cover, and far too heavy a topic, for the confines of a bustling sports bar on a random Friday afternoon. 

He’d always wanted kids, even since he was a teen. It was exactly the sort of future he’d envisioned for himself, and one that he and Emily had so candidly shared with one another. She’d had a few scares here and there, the nausea and the bloating brought on by her cancer masking itself as something far more hopeful and innocent. It was a dream that had died with Emily, and Gabe was trying his darndest not to let the bitter sting of jealousy take root and destroy his relationship with Sean entirely. 

“Anyway, that’s enough about me,” Gabe announced, knowing fine well they hadn’t even touched the surface. Slapping his hand gently against his thigh, he gave his old friend a wide smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “What about you? What’s new in the world of Seanie Carolan, hm?” 

“My bad!” he insisted, raising two hands above his head - one still clutching the bottle - to show he meant no harm. He had enough trouble with one young lady wanting to kick his behind, he didn’t need to add a second. He also had no doubt Blair Mcrory was perfectly capable of doing so. He’d seen her on the ice in his downtime, a hard, mean look on her face as she skated with the utmost concentration. He’d also heard the bickering that took place on the ice between her and Gabe. It was hard to imagine her in a sparkly princess get-up.

He didn’t get the vibe they exactly got along. Which was weird, because Gabe was like the funnest, easiest guy to get along with. And handsome too! He’d never met a woman (or a man, come to think of it. Because Gabe liked men too!) that Gabe couldn’t charm. It was just that he’d only ever had eyes for Emily. 

Sean’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the man across from him. Who, for all intents and purposes, read as very straight. As much as anyone could read as gay or straight, he didn’t know. How could you know? What did people think when they looked at him? What had he thought the first time he’d met Libby, or Perry? The point was, Gabe was decidedly, loudly not straight. Sean hadn’t forgotten the safe haven the Rangers had been for him when he’d been vocal about his sexuality. But since then, no one else had come out, the team had slowly gone back to conformity, even if they still taped up their hockey sticks with rainbows.

Huh. Sean was sitting on a wealth of knowledge on the subject of gay ice hockey, and he hadn’t even thought to ask!

 “Clover would love to see you.” he heard himself say, snapping out of his reverie. He offered Gabe a bright smile, knowing how happy his little girl would be to be reunited with the man he affectionately referred to as Uncle Gabe. She was too little to stand up on the ice by herself, but enjoyed being whizzed around by Sean. He was sure she’d be delighted by the spins Gabe could do - maybe when she was a little older.

“Aw, come on. I’m sure you’ve got more to tell me.” he pressed, tapping the edge of the table. It had been so long since he’d gotten Gabe alone like this, he wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. He softened considerably when Gabe called him Seanie though, not for the first time that night. He sounded so much like Casey when he dd that.

“New with me?” he asked, knowing he sounded drunker than he felt. His words tended to slur into each other anyway, when he was talking too fast or nervous or uncertain. For those reasons, he didn’t interview particularly well.

He went through his mental laundry list of things to tell Gabe about. Adelaide Davies’ latest article had been published this weekend, and it had said mostly nice things about him, but he knew Gabe read those anyway. Clover was still sleeping through the night, and well, there was…

Sean felt himself blush considerably. 

“Aw, nothing.” he tried to deflect, knowing the redness had travelled all the way up his neck and to the tips of his ears. He couldn’t talk about that, could he?