Just Like Jesse James


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Pairing: Jiri Fischer/Derian Hatcher
Summary: After Derian signs with the Wings, one of his new teammates and he bond
A/N: I don't own the guys...I swear I'm only borrowing...and I don't own Cher's song "Just Like Jesse James" (damn that CD Gram bought me for my birthday)



You're struttin' into town like youre slingin a gun...Just a small town dude with a big city attitude...Honey, are you looking for some trouble tonight...Well, alright...Honey, but you met your match tonight...Oh, that's right

You think you'll knock me off my feet...Till I'm flat on the floor...Till my heart is crying Indian and I'm beggin for more...So come on baby, come on baby...Come on baby, show me what that loaded gun is for...If you can give it, I can take it

Cause if this heart is gonna break...It's gonna take a lot to break it...I know tonight...Somebody's gonna win the fight...So if you're so tough...Come on and prove it

Your heart is down for the count...And you know you're gonna lose it...Tonight you're gonna go down in flames...Just like Jesse James


The new acquisition was supposed to be good for him, someone to learn from and further his career by playing on the same line with but Jiri had his doubts that he could really learn anything of importance from the brusque, towering American that had just signed with the Wings. "Hell, Hatcher is a career Star how will he ever fit into Detroit?" was the hushed whispers that filtered through the locker room and over the phone lines.

The bar Jiri was sitting in was all but dead for the night and he was the last figure sitting alone in the corner booth when the door opened and none other than Derian Hatcher strolled in as if he owned the fucking place. "Just what I need," Jiri thought as he tore the label off his beer, "a run in with him tonight." Jiri had just started to sneak out of the bar without drawing his new teammate's attention - he got as far as the jukebox by the door when he felt a large meat-hook like hand grab him by the nape of the neck.


"C'mon, kid, I just got here - lemme buy you a beer or something." Derian commanded as he steered them toward the bar. "I want to know what your thoughts are on playing with me."


Jiri couldnt help but notice the way Derian winked at him at the last comment. It unnerved him, but he needed to at least seem interested in what Derian had to say. He doubted that hed end up traded if he didn't jell with Derian immediately, but he wasn't going to risk it either.


"Relax, kid, I don't bite - well, at least not without just cause." Derian said as he led them over to a quiet corner booth. "So, you don't like me much do you?"


"I, uh, don't know you well enough to say." Jiri replied. "After I've been around you, I might like you - who knows."


"Fair enough," Derian grinned as he eyed the younger man somewhat hungrily. "At least if I had to leave Dallas, I made it home. Playing at home is such a wonderful thing, you know."


"I wouldn't know - I haven't played at home for a long while." Jiri confided. "It's not as easy for me to sign with my hometown team as it is for you."


"Oh, geez, I forgot you're from Europe, right?" Derian asked certain that he'd just ran the kid off by his ignorance.


"Yes, Czech Republic." Jiri replied with a wistful smile. "Sometimes, I miss home, you know?"


"I can only imagine, Jiri." Derian replied using the younger mans name for the first time.


After they finished their drinks in virtual silence, Jiri got up to attempt to leave again. When he caught the slight touch of loneliness in Derian's turquoise eyes, he sat back down.


"This isn't as easy as you'd like for it to be, is it?" Jiri asked as he put his hand softly on Derians arm.


"No, it's not." Derian replied. "I thought coming to play for Detroit would be wonderful but I think it's just sinking in all that I left behind."


"Yes, but if all you do is look back you can't see what's in front of you or further down the road." Jiri stated with a hopeful grin lighting his youthful face.


"Let's get out of here." Derian whispered as he dropped a few bills on the table.


The two of them walked down the block until they were in front of Derian's car. Jiri looked around nervously before he slid into the passenger seat. He offered a slight smile to his new supposed mentor when he asked if he wanted a lift home.


"I don't actually have a home, I live in a hotel." Jiri admitted before turning away and staring out the window.


"Been there done that. I think everyone of us has done that at one time or another, Jiri." Derian replied. "So, where are you staying?"


Jiri gave Derian the directions and was only moderately surprised when they arrived at the hotel and he was walked up to his room by the other man.


            "So, would you like to come in for a while?" Jiri offered as they stood close together at the door. "I promise I won't bite without just cause."


            "Alright, I deserved that." Derian said with a grin as he followed Jiri into the room. "So, what are we going to do now?"


            The quiet, shy seeming kid from the bar seemed to melt away as soon as the door was closed. It was now Jiri's turn to study Derian with hungry eyes. As his eyes flickered over the entire length of the man of virtually equal size to him, he couldn't help but want to tangle his fingers in the wild mass of blonde hair that crowned Derian's head.

            It was slightly awkward for a moment when Jiri leaned his hands against the wall on either side of Derian's head and pressed his lips against Derian's. Derian pushed him back a little and looked at him for a moment.


            "Are you sure this is what you want, kid?" Derian whispered as he kept Jiri at arm's length from him.


            "Isn't it what you want, too?" Jiri asked in a soft, plaintive tone.


            "Yes, but I don't want to rush anything - we'll have all season." Derian replied as he rubbed the back of Jiri's neck softly.


            "We'll have all season to repeat whatever we do tonight, Derian." Jiri replied, his voice almost an octave deeper than it normally was.


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