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Summary
“Apparently they’ve been fucking since their rookie year!” The ghost was a persistent fucker if nothing else. Then the words processed and Quinn’s brain bluescreened at the knowledge that the sport's biggest rivalry was apparently just foreplay and stumbled over Mitty’s skates, bonking his head on the back of his locker cubicle.
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What if Quinn and his ghosts existed in the Heated Rivalry universe? What if they were there when Shane got hit by Marleau?
