The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015

Welcome to the Steel City

Mike Johnston walked into Consol Energy Center early for his new job. He would be the head coach of Pittsburgh's beloved Penguins. Hockey had always been a passion of his since he was small and it was an honor that he now got to coach one of the greatest teams in the league. He walked through the hallowed halls; in a few short weeks they would be packed with spectators for the opening game against the Detroit Red Wings. The rooms and hallways under the arena were silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above his head. Johnston unlocked his office and set his things down, preparing for the first practice of the season. He grabbed his drill book, team roster, and clipboard and set off for the locker rooms.

The players hadn't arrived yet, and Johnston was not going to wait in the locker room for the team to arrive. This wasn't high school; this was the National Hockey League. He took a piece paper, scribbled a note, and left it in the captain's locker. We meet on the ice at 9. No excuses or exceptions.

Sidney Crosby, who would arrive not too long after the coach left, would chuckle at this. That wasn't what he expected out of a coach, but Johnston wasn't any old coach. And neither was his assistant.

Johnston came up into the bench and looked around at the arena with it's bright lights, clean ice, and empty stands; it was a perspective very few got to see. He let a low whistle at the sight. It was the most beautiful thing he had seen, and he hoped he would see it for many seasons to come.

He heard a feminine laugh off to his left, "She's pretty, isn't she?" A girl, about as old as most of the players, was sitting on the bench in dark jeans and a black polo. She flipped her curly dark hair over her shoulder and stood, extending a hand to Mike, "You must be Mike Johnston, it's nice to meet you-"

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to request that you leave immediately. This is a closed practice today," he replied tersely, ignoring her outstretched hand.

"I know it's a closed practice, I know when all the closed practices are," she smirked a bit at his ignorance to her identity.

"Are you someone's wife?" he asked.

"Excuse me? That's a very forward question, Mr. Johnston," she was surprised. That was not what she assumed he would ask.

"I meant are you married to one of my players?" He sighed.

"No, I am not," the woman replied.

"Then you must go," he turned away from her and muttered, "Now where's my assistant? He's late."

"She, was perfectly on time. Early actually. And if you'd given her thirty seconds to introduce herself, you'd know that," the woman on the bench snapped.

Johnston whipped around, "I'm looking for Aaron Fitzpatrick. He's my assistant coach; I don't know who you are."

"I'm Erin Fitzpatrick, assistant coach of the Pittsburgh Penguins. It's nice to meet you. I assume that they didn't spell my name for you? Or tell you I was a girl?"

"No... they didn't." Johnston was taken aback. This day wasn't off to a good start. At least the players hadn't seen this fiasco; they would never have taken him seriously. He reached out and she shook his hand. "Look, Ms. Fitzpatrick, I'm very sorry about this. I would prefer if you didn't-"

"Mention it to the team?" She raised an eyebrow. Johnston nodded. "I won't," she smirked.

"Thank you. Now, would you care to go over practice plans?"

"Indeed I would."

Author's Note

Hi everyone! This is my first hockey Fanfiction so I hope you enjoy it. Please comment and vote to let me know what you thought. Let's go Pens!