The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are the property 
of Walt Disney Television. No copyright infringement is 
intended and no profit is being made. Believe me, I'm not 
crazy enough to take on Disney.

This story and all original characters are the property of the 
owner.

This takes place after Beyond Brotherhood and Beyond 
Brotherhood: Precious Things. I'd recommend reading the 
stories Meditations and Brotherhood before this one, just so 
you know what's going on.

Hewwo Kat! Am I updating fast enough yet? <g>
________

Beyond Brotherhood: Outside Looking In


It was just short of midnight when I finally dragged myself 
through the back doors of the Pond. I was tired, bruised and 
the information I'd gained that night was not worth the 
aggravation I'd gone through to get it. As I made my way to 
the kitchen, taking care to favor the entire right side of my 
body, I reflected on the fact that I had to be more dedicated to 
my self-designed goal of keeping an eye on the Anaheim 
Underworld than I'd thought. Or I was a masochist. I honestly 
wasn't sure at the moment.

Filling the coffee pot and starting up the  machine with just 
one hand wasn't easy, but I've been told that I pursue caffeine 
the way most men pursue wealth and personal happiness, and 
somehow managed to get everything percolating nicely 
without making too much of a mess. Eyeing the water on the 
floor and the scattering of coffee grounds on the counter, I 
considered leaving it all there till morning - Mallory would 
probably assume it was Dive, not me who'd made the mess. 
No, the coffee grounds would give me away, Dive had yet to 
fully appreciate the benefits of a good cup of hot coffee. 
Mallory would know it was me - and with the luck I'd been 
having tonight she'd probably slip on the water and be in a 
killing mood. Okay... Paper towels to the rescue.

Fifteen minutes later the floor is dry and I have an entire pot 
of hot coffee all to myself - Jamaican blend. I have the pot 
gripped in my left hand and a large mug in my right when the 
kitchen door opens and narrowly avoids slamming into my 
face. Or worse - spilling my coffee.

A burst of laughter makes me look up as a second voice 
hushes the first. "Up a little late, aren't we boys?" I ask dryly.

Wildwing smirks and pointedly glances over the pot of coffee 
before moving on to my torn uniform and bruised arm and 
face. "At least we came back in one piece. What happened to 
you?"

"Some gentlemen and I had a little disagreement over the state 
of local politics," I replied smoothly, rearranging my grip on 
the coffee pot. Wildwing was giving me a look that said he 
didn't believe a word of it, and Dive's expression said he did 
believe it, but didn't appreciate the understatement. "What 
have you been up to, fearless leader? You're not usually a 
night owl."

Dive answered for him. "Movies," he said brightly, a barely 
contained grin on his face. "I talked Wing into seeing Star 
Wars."

"All three movies," Wildwing sighed.  I exchanged a 
commiserating glance with him, but noticed he didn't seem all 
that upset. "I had to talk him out of buying a lightsabre 
between showings."

Dive nodded happily. "I can't wait until the new one comes 
out," he announced. "Episode One's supposed to be released 
next May."

"Can't wait," Wildwing and I chorused. We looked at each 
other with raised brows, then turned to Dive as he broke out 
laughing. "You two... Geez."

"Speak with a little more respect," I said. "We are your elders, 
kid."

The sound he made is best left to the imagination, but left no 
doubt as to what he thought of that. "Elders. Ha."

"Aren't you the one always pointing out how ancient I am?" I 
asked archly. "Really, kid, at least be consistent."

"My name is Dive," he reminded me. "Not kid."

I ignored that. "Has he been this giggly all night, Wildwing?"

"*Hey!* I am *not* giggly!"

I looked at him in surprise. "You certainly seem giggly. 
You're giggling." 

"I am *not!*"

Biting back a smile, I turned back to Wildwing, who was 
watching up with an expression of amusement. "Was he this 
giggly during the movie? Must have been awfully disruptful 
for the other viewers..."

"I *am not giggly!*"

I heaved a dramatic sigh. "Really, Dive. You certainly are in a 
mood this evening. How did you put up with him, Wildwing?"

Wildwing looked past me and smiled, his expression 
remarkably content. "I managed."

Whatever Dive was about to say to me was forgotten as he 
smiled back at his brother. For a moment there was no sound, 
no movement, and I couldn't help but smile myself.

Looks like these two finally managed to work things out. Dive 
looks happier than he has since... well, for a long time. And 
Wildwing - I don't think I've seen him this relaxed in the 
entire time I've known him. I feel a brief pang of envy and 
forcibly push it aside.

"About time," I say softly, realizing that the coffee pot is 
growing heavier in my hand by the second.  "Thought I was 
gonna have to lock you in a room somewhere." Reaffirming 
my grip on the pot, I turn and head for the door again. "I'll see 
you two in the morning."

A soft snort is the reply. "Don't you mean afternoon, Duke?" 
Wildwing asks me dryly.

"To-may-to... to-mah-to..." I shrug and slip out the door, 
letting it slide shut behind me as I stand there for a moment.  
Well. I shook my head and kept walking toward my personal 
quarters.

If tonight was any indication, I mused thoughtfully, it seemed 
Dive and Wildwing had managed to work out whatever issues 
they had between them - though to be truthful, I'd barely 
realized there *were* issues. I'd known Dive was unhappy, 
but never thought it had something to do with his brother. 
Those two were always so close... It was hard for me to 
believe that their relationship could get closer. Then again, it 
was a little hard to believe that their relationship existed at all. 
I'm not given to sentimentality, and I wasn't one to trust 
anyone, or believe in anything. When I'd first met these two, 
so much obvious trust and affection between them...  They'd 
seemed almost surreal. 

Don't ask me how, but I managed to key in the password for 
my quarters without dropping the coffee, and used voice 
command to lock the door behind me before setting the coffee 
down on the bedside table, and the mug beside it. I filled the 
mug and took a long drink before I started to strip out of my 
uniform. Hot shower. Right after coffee, that was heaven at 
the moment. 

It was under the hot spray, with a full mug of coffee resting on 
the sink, in arm's reach if I wanted it - yes, I'm addicted to 
caffeine. I know it, I admit it, I don't really care - that my 
thoughts drifted back to the scene in the kitchen tonight.

The first time I'd met either of them was about three or so 
months after Canard had helped me escape from Installation 
82, the work camp I'd ended up in after the invasion. Canard 
had disappeared only a week or so after he'd brought me back 
to General McMallard's headquarters, then shown up again 
with the Mask of Ducaine and two teenagers, both of whom 
looked even younger than Canard himself did. I'd pretty much 
tuned everything after  "Mask of Ducaine" out and only dimly 
registered the existence of his new recruit - singular, because 
at that point none of us had had any idea that Dive would end 
up a member of the team - it wasn't until later that their 
presence started to really sink in. I don't know what it was; the 
fact that I can hardly remember seeing one of them without 
the other the entire time we were in  the resistance base, the 
easy way they watched each other's backs, or the fact that 
Wildwing had nearly had his head taken off in a fight when he 
stood up to one of the resistance commanders who didn't like 
having a kid as young as Dive around; that finally sunk it 
home that these two had something special. And even then, it 
never really sunk in just how special. 

I smiled wryly into the hot water. Duke l'Orange may have 
been the best and most dedicated member of the Brotherhood 
of the Sword, but I was blind as a bat about real brotherhood. 
Just ask my own brother. 

Rance.

Rance would be a year or two older then Wildwing, if he was 
still alive. They were even a little alike, both dedicated to their 
jobs, both letting their responsibilities weigh a little too 
heavily on their shoulders. 

I'd never mentioned him to anyone except Canard, and even 
then only briefly. Really, why should I have? We hadn't 
spoken in years... not since I'd left home at nineteen, except 
for the time he'd arrested me almost two years ago. We were 
never all that close, though looking back it wasn't for lack of 
trying on Rance's part. How many second chances did he give 
me? So many I stopped even noticing when he did, taking it 
for granted he would continue to do so. I don't think 
anything's hurt me quite so much as finding out that the cop 
on the other end of the weapon in my face was my kid 
brother. I remember feeling betrayed, which is funny as hell if 
you stop and think about it. I never even noticed the look in 
his eyes. Now I can clearly look back and see the hurt in him, 
but at the time I'd been so caught up in my own sense of 
betrayal... I could be an idiot at times. I never trusted Rance 
again after that, not that I'd trusted him all that much *before* 
that. 

Looking at Dive and Wildwing always makes me think of 
Rance, and I get caught up in the whatifs and couldhavebeens 
that keep me awake at night. What if I'd trusted him more? 
Could we have had something as close as Dive and Wildwing 
do? 

Will I ever stop regretting that I'll never know?

I feel like a little kid standing outside a store window 
sometimes. They have something I want, something I'd give 
almost anything to experience just *once* to see if it can 
possibly be as wonderful as they make it look, and I know it'll 
never happen. I well and truly blew my chances. Rance is 
gone, and even assuming he's not dead - a thought that hurts 
me more than I would've thought it could - he stopped giving 
me second chances. I'll never be able to repair the almost 
ten years we lost. I'd never had any particularly close friends, 
someone I trusted. And now... I admit, I'm fond of Dive. He's 
a good kid, smart, funny, loyal. But I only have to see the look 
in his eye when he talks to his brother to know that I'll always 
be second at best. Oddly enough, I don't begrudge Wildwing 
that. There's something entirely too right about them for me to 
be jealous of it.

That doesn't keep me from wishing though.



End