Impossible Dreams 7/8 (Romantic Comedy, MF, cons, interr, rom, slow)
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Impossible Dreams
A romantic comedy about a basketball legend and a dancer.
Copyright (c) 2005, Bingain (MF, cons, interr, romance, very slow)

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Chapter 7

"No," Lauren said, snuggling up to Rick's chest. "I don't want a car. What's more, I don't want a car for free. What's even more, I don't want a car as a free gift from you." 

"What do you want," Rick said, playing with her bathrobe belt. "Beside my gift." He pressed himself against her bum.

Lauren giggled. "Who said I want that?" she said.

"You don't?"

"Nah," Lauren said, laughing. "Not in my ass."

"So what do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Come on."

"Well," Lauren said. "Actually, you know what I want."

"I know?"

"Yes."

There was a momentarily silence. "I don't," Rick said.

"Do you think you love me?"

"Of course," Rick said. "You know that."

"I don't."

"You don't?"

"I don't."

"I love you, Lauren. I love you."

"Do you mean it?" Lauren said.

"Of course," Rick said.

"You told me it's easy to say, but hard to do it."

There was another momentarily silence.

"I do love you, Lauren. I know it from my heart."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know I haven't," Rick said. He paused, and went on. "You didn't either."

"Because you never had."

"So, do you?"

"No. Well, I don't know."

Lauren resisted, but Rick managed to turn her around to face him. "You're smiling," he said.

"No, I am not," Lauren said, struggling not to smile or laugh.

"Yes, you are," Rick said, smiling. "Do you?"

"I don't know," Lauren said, giggling. "Say it again."

"I love you, Lauren. I've never been so crazy about a woman before."

"I love you, too, Rick," Lauren said, smiling. "I am madly in love with you."

Rick pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"What now?" Lauren said after the kiss.

"No," Lauren said, giggling, pulling Rick's hand out of her robe.  "I don't mean this."

"You don't?"

"No," Lauren said. "Not right now."

"What, then?"

"I want something first."

"Okay, what's it?"

"The championship ring."

"Oh, no," Rick said. "Not again."

"Well," Lauren said. "Yes, again. Yes, again." She giggled, then went on. "You'll beat the Heat for the East Championship. Then beat, hmm, who do you think will win the West?"

"I'll bet on Seattle," Rick said. "The columnists are blind. They still don't know how good Tim Fowl is."

"Well," Lauren said. "Okay, beat the Heat, then beat that goddamned Tim Fowl."

"It's very tough, honey," Rick said. "And the Heat are tough."

"Show the 'Big Fella' you can be bigger than him."

"You've seen him?"

Lauren slapped his lap. "Say it once more and I might," she said.

"Okay," Rick said. "It's very tough, honey. We don't have an answer for Shaq."

"Send Diesel to stop him."

"Diesel will be fouled out before he knows what has happened."

"Well," Lauren said. "They don't have an answer for you either."

"I still don't understand. Why is the ring so important to you?"

"You're an idiot," Lauren said. "Because you're important to me, and the ring is important to you."

"I thought this is," Rick said, pressing himself against her again.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgot," she said. "Were you able to move a finger after you defeated the Sixers?"

"I'm not sure," Rick said, laughing. "Why?"

"When you come home after beating the Heat," Lauren said. "I will guarantee you won't be able to walk for a day. How's that?"

"What if I can walk?"

"You will do it until you can't," Lauren said, laughing. "Oh, damn it. Stop it, get your damn hand off my thigh. You know I'm already wet. Okay, I'm telling you this. If I can still talk afterward, you're busted."

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"What are you doing?" Lauren said when she came back from work and saw Rick fiddling with the wires behind the TV.

"I'm showing you a video," Rick said. "Remember I told you something funny I used to practice with Diesel?"

"Yeah," Lauren said. "Okay, let me change first."

Lauren bent down laughing as she watched the video. "My goodness, this is so funny," she said. "What are you doing with him?"

"I'm bumping myself into him," Rick said. "And bouncing off his tummy."

"I know that," Lauren said, still laughing. "And you throw the ball up while you're bouncing away, too."

"Yeah," Rick said. "And you see? The ball goes in."

"Do you make it on purpose?" Lauren said. "You're facing away from the basket. You don't even see the basket."

"Yeah," Rick said. "It's on purpose. Well, half of the throws won't go. See? This one doesn't go."

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said. "It's so funny. You're going to join the Harlem Wizards professional entertainment team?"

"Nah," Rick said. "Well, I may, after retiring from the NBA. I told you it was for fun."

"Okay," Lauren said, snickering. "You're silly, and Diesel's silly, too."

"Well," Rick said. "Coach now has a dirty answer for Shaq. I don't quite like it though."

"You're going to bump into him and bounce off in real games?"

"Yeah," Rick said, laughing. "I'll have to be fast though, before he gets into position, or I'll be called a 'charge'. But if I can bump into him before he's set or still inside the arc, he'll easily get into foul trouble and hopefully I'll be able to attempt a 3-point play."

"Well," Lauren said. "That's kind of nasty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "That's why I don't quite like it. But this is the NBA. We do all kinds of nasty things to win. Actually, they will do nasty things to us as well, like slapping Diesel before he dunks. Nobody can make a worse free throw shooter than Diesel."

"Poor Shaq," Lauren said. "Tell him I feel sorry for him."

"You know," Rick said. "If they play clean with us. I'll play clean with them, I don't care what Coach says. Otherwise I'll play Harlem Wizards with them."

"Okay," Lauren said. "Well, it's kind of late. Pizza or Chinese food?"

"Neither," Rick said. "Let me play a dirty game with you first. I haven't had my shower yet."

Lauren slapped him off as she laughed.

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The crowd in Madison Square Garden was chanting for their heroes at their final conference home game of the season. The Knicks led the series three-to-two into this game, and it looked like they were playing with huge confidence. Many fans were already wearing tee-shirts bearing the championship series signs.

The crowd became dead silent when they witnessed Rick fall hard on to the floor in a collision not long into the second half and started squirming on the floor. Lauren gapped as she stood up to look over the shoulder of the guy standing in front of her. She felt Vanessa patting her hand. The Knicks called a time-out. Lauren saw the team trainer and physician went over to inspect Rick. And then two bench players were waved over to carry Rick into the dressing room.

"Do you want to go inside to check on him?" Vanessa asked Lauren.

"I can't," Lauren said. "It's a restricted area. I'm not a staff."

Lauren didn't know how the game was going even though she was watching. Then her phone buzzed. It was Uncle Frazier calling her. The old trainer was carrying Rick's phone.

"He told me to call you," Uncle Frazier said. "He has a hamstring spasm. X-ray is negative. We're taking him to the hospital for MRI. You'd better go home after the game."

Lauren didn't wait for the end of the game. She bid goodbye to her friends, went outside, called a cab home, and waited while she watched for news on the TV. 

Lauren rushed to the door when she heard people talking in the corridor outside. She opened the door and saw Rick on a crutch. Uncle Frazier is on one side of him and a big guy was on his other side. Rick smiled at Lauren as she threw herself onto him. The big guy bid goodbye to them as then went inside.

"So how are you feeling now?" Lauren said.

"I'm okay," Rick said, slowly sitting down in the couch. "Just a spasm. Damn, we'll have to go to Miami again."

Lauren laughed and sighed. "You're an idiot," she said. "You can't even walk by yourself. Oh goodness, we lost the game?"

Rick and Uncle Frazier laughed at her. "You didn't finish watching the game?" Rick said. "And didn't watch the TV?"

Lauren slapped Rick in the arm. "Of course I didn't," she said. "I was so worried."

Rick held her in his arms. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I'm fine, and I'll be fine."

"He's day-to-day," Uncle Frazier said. 

"How can you be day-to-day?" Lauren said. "You can't even walk."

"That's why day-to-day," Rick said. "I may be tomorrow. I have to. The 'Big Fella' will be laughing at us."

Lauren sighed. "Uncle Frazier," she said. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Uncle Frazier thought over it briefly. "I think it's a good idea," he said. "Do you have a spare room?"

"Yeah," Lauren said, giggling. "But let me go clear out the room first. I'm not sure if I still have my baggage there." 

Rick was on his phone when Lauren went back to the sitting room. "Yeah, thanks," he said. "Of course I will. Oh, and congratulations. Yeah. Hey, not this time. I'm going to kick your ass hard this time. Okay. Thanks again. Bye."

"Who is it?" Lauren said. "And milk or juice? No alcohol for both of you tonight."

Rick laughed with Uncle Frazier again. "It's Tim Fowl," Rick said.

"Tim Fowl?" Lauren said, raising an eyebrow. "What's he calling you for?"

"Encouraging me," Rick said. "And telling me he's longing to kick my ass again in the championship series."

Lauren laughed. "That's very nice of him," she said.

"I told you he is a MVP," Rick said when Lauren came back with soft drinks for them. 

"Well," Lauren said. "I don't want him to be MVP. I want you to be MVP. Do you talk to him a lot?"

"Never," Rick said. "Except on the court. Well, I sent him a two-buck card when he got the MVP award."

"Rick is not the only guy who will purposely miss a shot," Uncle Frazier said. "Some do it in a different way. Tim Fowl is a knight."

"Oh," Lauren said. "No wonder he always kick your butt, Rick. You're only a jerk."

Rick laughed. "Should I put up a bet with him?" he said. "You for his wife."

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, of course," she said. "You'll call him when I kick you out of the window."

"I think I need to go to bed now," Uncle Frazier said, smiling at Lauren. "And don't do it too vigorously tonight. His hamstring still hurts."

Lauren threw a cushion at Uncle Frazier as her face turned pink. "Say it once more," she said. "And you're flying out of the window."

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"What are you doing here?" Jimmy asked Lauren when she opened the door for him at Vanessa's apartment. "And what is the score?"

Lauren made a kicking gesture. "To watch the game, idiot," she said. "74-72, it's a very tight game."

"Alright," Jimmy said, dropped his bag, and went over to kiss Vanessa. "Need any drink?"

"Nah," Vanessa said as Lauren moved her snacks to the other end of the couch. "But if you don't mind, I want that raspberry yogurt."

"No," Lauren said. "That's mine. Jim, get her the kiwi."

Lauren and Vanessa looked at each other, and dashed together into the kitchen to fight for the raspberry as Jimmy laughed from behind.

"Bitch," Lauren said, laughing, as she ate her kiwi yogurt.

"Hmm, hmm," Vanessa said, giggling. "I like this taste."

"How's Rick doing?" Jimmy said when he didn't see Rick on the floor.

"He's not playing a lot today," Lauren said. "But Shaq's not either. He's in foul trouble. Peanut alone got him two fouls." She giggled.

Jimmy laughed. "I think they need to change the rule," he said. "Small guys taking advantage of big fellows. You know, sometimes I like to see the blameless and frustrated look on him when he's called for the foul as a result of Rick bumping into him. But sometimes I also feel sorry for him. I think Rick makes him take  at least three fouls per game, is that right?"
 
"Yeah," Lauren said, laughing. "That's about right, and yeah, I feel sorry for Shaq, too. But they don't play clean either. They have been doing nasty things to Rick, so he goes on to punish their main guy."

"Oh well," Jimmy said, laughing. "This is the NBA, what can we say? Oh damn." He groaned as the Heat made a 3-pointer.

They saw Rick getting ready to check in when the Heat sank in another jump shot.

"This is another game to be determined at the buzzer," Jimmy said, after a little while.

"That's why we have time to fight for the yogurt, silly," Vanessa said, giggling. "Hey, Lauren?"

"Huh?"

"Let's talk about my reward for attending the championship series."

"Oh," Lauren said, glancing at Jimmy. "Hmm, plunging V-neckline ultra high cut swimwear?"

"Nah," Vanessa said. "You know I can't swim. What about a knotted straps mesh dress?"

"I knew you guys would be doing this to me again," Jimmy said, smiling. "Sooner or later. So I have myself ready." He went over to his bag and pulled out two scalloped lace camisoles with front openings, one in pink and one in white. He waved the tiny garments in his hands.

"Either you guys put them on now," he said, smiling. "Or shut up."

Vanessa looked at Lauren, then went over to take the pink camisole from Jimmy. She pulled her halter off her head, then put on the tiny garment. She left the front of the camisole open. She then walked in a catwalk-like gait back to the couch and smiled at Lauren.

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said, laughing. "Oh, no. Another setup?"

"No," Vanessa said, smiling. "It is not. I didn't know he has it planned. But since he has. I think a little show doesn't hurt."

"I'll shut up from now on," Lauren said, giggling. "You're a bitch, Nessa."

"Well," Jimmy said, tossing the other garment into Lauren's lap and taking his seat beside Vanessa. "Let's watch the final five minutes of the game, without sexual interruption."

The game was now down to sixteen seconds to go, with Knicks down by one but had the ball. They called a time-out.

"What do you think?" Lauren said to Jimmy.

Jimmy pointed at the camisole in her lap. "You said you would shut up," he said, smiling.

Lauren made up a frown. "You're a jerk, Jim," she said. "And you're a bitch, Nessa." She put the camisole on, over her halter.

"You're not supposed to wear it outside," Jimmy said. "It's lingerie."

"So?" Lauren said, giggling. "What are you going to do? Sue me?"

Jimmy laughed with Vanessa. "Okay," he said. "Sixteen seconds is a lot of time. They won't do anything fast. Rick will dribble until the last few seconds. The point is who will shoot."

The play didn't go so well. Rick slipped as he began to drive in with eight seconds to go. The player guarding him stole the ball and went for a fast break. Peanut managed to foul him by nearly pulling his shorts off.

Jimmy sighed. "I don't know how bad his hamstring is," he said. "But this is a fatal mistake. Maybe George Lamont shouldn't have him make this play."

"We're not done yet," Lauren said. "There's still six seconds to go."

"I know," Jimmy said. "But we're out of time-outs now, and they will use full court defense to make it hard for us to get a fast basket."

The Heat player only made one of his two free throws. They saw Kenny in-bounded the ball to Rick and he dribbled it cross court under the harassment of his defender.  He faked a sprint and suddenly threw the ball toward the basket at the other end of the court. The ball hit the backboard and bounced back, with Diesel high up in the air ready to catch the ball for a dunk. He was fouled before he had the ball.

"Damn," Jimmy said with a sigh. "That's a gorgeous pass, perfectly executed, but we're still over. Diesel will miss both free throws."

Lauren sighed too. "Yeah," she said. "The worst free throw shooter in the history of the NBA."

They saw Rick talking to Diesel before he made his free throw attempts. To everyone's surprise, Diesel made both free throws. The Heat had the possession with less than three seconds to go, but they couldn't score. The game went into overtime.

"You know," Jimmy said, after kissing both girls. "Those two free throws alone is worth ten million bucks."

"Yeah," Lauren said. "I hope they'll kick out the entire A-team and sign an extension with Diesel and give him more money. He deserves a lot."

"What do you think Rick was talking to him about before the free throws?" Vanessa said.

"I don't know," Jimmy said. "Maybe offering Lauren as reward to Diesel."

Lauren giggled as she slapped Jimmy. 

Rick made three consecutive 3-pointers from way downtown to give the Knicks a lead early on in the overtime. The Heat couldn't overcome the deficit. The Knicks won the Eastern Conference Championship.

"Wow," Jimmy said. "Rick is amazing. Each game he gives me something new."

"And Diesel is amazing too," Lauren said. "Isn't he?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "A playoff rookie making two crucial free throws. A rookie who's the worst ever free throw shooter." He shook his head.

"Well," Lauren said. "Are we going to eat now?"

"Yeah," Vanessa said. "Lauren, are you really going to wear like this to the restaurant?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah," Vanessa said, giggling. "I am."

Lauren looked down at her attire. "Okay," she said. "I am too." She giggled.

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"Hey."

"Hey." Lauren said on the phone. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Rick said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Lauren said. "What did you say to Diesel before he made those free throws?"

"I told him he could have you for a day if he made both."

Lauren laughed. "You're the worst jerk ever," she said. "What did you say?"

"That's what I told him."

Lauren was staggered. "Oh my goodness," she said. "You are not serious, are you?"

"Nah, I ain't serious."

Lauren laughed again. "Do you know I hate you?" she said.

"Nah," Rick said, laughing. "You love me, admit it."

Lauren laughed once again. "No," she said. "Okay, I used to, but no more. I hate you now. What did you say to him?"

"I told him Tim Fowl wanted to kick my ass, and my ass was itchy."

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am serious. Well, I also told him if he could make them both, I'd take care of the overtime."

"Okay," Lauren said. "So how's the feeling now? Winning a championship."

"Feels good," Rick said. "Slightly less than beating off."

"Oh my goodness," Lauren said, laughing again. "You nasty jerk. You still do it?"

"Nah," Rick said, laughing. "You think I'm an idiot?"

"You are an idiot," Lauren said, still laughing. "How's your hamstring?"

"I'm still on compressive bandage and ice," Rick said. "but I'm doing a lot better now. By the time I see Tim Fowl's shorts sliding down I'll be completely healthy."

"You're a riot," Lauren said, shaking her head. "When are you coming back?"

"Around eleven."

"Okay," Lauren said. "Your car is still here. Do you want me to take a day off? Or is someone giving you a ride?"

"Nah," Rick said. "Diesel will give me a ride. You save up the day off for our honeymoon."

Lauren giggled. "You're silly," she said. "Who said I will do that? Stop dreaming. Stop beating off. Stop everything."

After hanging up the phone, Lauren turn on the TV and switched to a sports channel. The famed sports commentators Charlie Brown and Heber Green were talking about the upcoming basketball championship series. 

"Hey, hey," Charlie Brown said. "Don't put words in my mouth. I never said I'd lick his sneakers if Al Davis could hit those two free throws. I merely said it would be like a miracle."

The other commentator, Heber Green, was laughing. 

"Anyway," the anchor said. "Congratulations to the Knicks for winning the Eastern Conference Title. What do you think about this year's playoffs and finals?"

"Well," Charlie Brown said. "This year's playoffs are indeed full of miracles and surprises. We have the New York Knicks, which was a lottery bound team just a few months ago, on one side, and the Seattle Sonics, who have swept every star studded team on the way to the finals, on the other side. But know what? The Sonics are going to sweep the Knicks. Yeah, I know, Rick Hart is Richard 'the superhuman' Hart. But know what?"

"What?" Heber Green said.

"We all know the playoffs are about match-ups. Let's do a match-up between them."

Lauren saw a split screen on the TV showing the pictures and key statistics of Diesel and the Sonics' center, as she heard Charlie Brown continued.

"Center: Al 'Diesel' Davis, you don't become a great center by shooting two free throws everyone expects you to miss; he's no match for Donald Robertson. Baron MacDonald would have been a closer match-up if he had not become a New York runaway kid. Power forward: Kenny Russell is okay but he's too old, too slow, too weak, and too small for the all-star Kevin Magnet. Small forward: who's Knicks' small forward again? Oh, okay, Jack Leigh, yeah, he is small, that's it. They need Jet Li, not Jack Leigh, against Terence McSleppy. At least Jet Li can kick. Shooting guard: Yeah, I know Paul 'Peanut' Peeler is now Paul 'Coconut' Peeler, but how can you compare him to this year's MVP Tim Fowl?"

"I remember you crossed Tim Fowl out during the voting," Heber Green said, chuckling.

"It was a mistake," Charlie Brown said. "I meant to strike out Kenneth Smith, not him. Anyway, you can't find any shooting guard playing at a comparable level to Tim Fowl, not even close. Point guard: Okay, I admit, I misjudged Rick Hart. I now stand corrected, Rick Hart is the current best point guard in the league. I still can't understand how a garbage time player can suddenly transform into a superhuman. If he's taking some drugs I'd like to have some of them. I can still play again if I can lose another hundred pounds."

"I had seen Rick Hart three years ago at a summer training camp," Heber Green said. "If you were there, you wouldn't be surprised. That kid can do anything a human player can, of course, except dunks."

"Yeah, I agree he's spectacular, if he's on Tim Fowl's team, we don't need the regular season. We don't need the playoffs. We can just give them the trophy and go fishing from November to October."

"And there are more things about the playoffs," Heber Green said. "There are pace and tempo. The Sonics play a half court offense. They like to take their time, look for higher field goal percentage instead of more shots. They also have one of the best open court player Tim Fowl who will punish you for a tiny mistake in the defense."

"Yeah," Charlie Brown said. "And they shoot from everywhere. You're going to be wasted by their rotation and then a ball comes from nowhere sinks into the basket."

"Yeah," Heber Green said. "They are also a very solid defensive team. On the other hand, the Knicks are a much faster tempo team. They are more a transitional offense team, and will punish you for any mistakes and turnovers you make. They are also a team centering on Rick Hart, who does everything, including driving in, creating opportunities for teammates, and making perimeter shots. They have developed a sophisticated screen and roll system for him."

"That's the best and also worst thing about the Knicks," Charlie Brown said. "If Rick Hart is not performing, they are done."

"Yeah," Heber Green said. "That's exactly their biggest weakness. Anyway, I think it may come down to the point if the Knicks can defend their paint with modest success. They can't completely stop the Sonics, but slowing them down may enable them to enter a shooting contest against the Sonics. As for the Sonics, they will have to keep the Knicks perimeter players occupied. They can't afford to allow Rick Hart too many chances, his laser guided 3-pointers can really hurt. They may have to make him penetrate, while boxing out his supporting cast, and keep a shot blocker to protect the basket."

"That I have to agree," Charlie Brown said. "And I think Gary Page will have big problem guarding Rick Hart. He is experienced and a terrific play maker, but he simply can't match Rick Hart for his speed and agility. I suspect they will put Tim Fowl to guard Rick Hart. With Fowl's height advantage and wing span, Hart may have hard time finding much opportunity to shoot."

"Have you also noticed one thing?"

"What is it?"

"During the past few games," Heber Green said. "I have noticed that Rick Hart's been shooting from farther and farther away from the three point line. It'll be very dangerous to stick to him too close, or to try double teaming him before he's in the paint, because that will leave the zone open."

"I have noticed that, too," Charlie Brown said. "I think next season we will be seeing him shooting from the half court line." He laughed.

"We'll continue with depth analysis and answer calls from our audiences when we come back after the commercials," the anchor said.

Laurence didn't know if the commentators' remarks were objective or not, but she's already sleepy. She turned off the TV and went to bed.

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... to be continued

Written by Bingain
Comments appreciated

bingain@yahoo.com
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?id=1128
http://www.asstr.org/~bingain

