The Road to the Cup ~ Wattys 2015

Drop the Gloves

I arrived at Consol early, but someone had beaten me there. Actually, a lot of someones had. The Islanders had their optional morning skate before we did today and they were just clearing out when I got in. A couple of them cast me glances; they knew who I was, and they also knew better than to come talk to me.

I waited patiently as the Zamboni drivers cleaned up the ice for our practice. They pulled off and I hopped on, beginning my laps.

"Seriously, Coach?" One of them asked, "I just resurfaced that."

I looked up, startled. He was an older gentleman who had clearly loved the sport for a long time, and he was grinning, just messing around with me. He reminded me a lot of my grandfather. I decided to play along, "Well, someone had to mess it up, and I like to live by the motto 'ladies first'."

He laughed, "You're a fiery one, I know why they like you. You've done a good job with them, Coach. I've enjoyed watching them this year with you at the helm. You've given us some hope."

"Thank you. I'm glad that everyone has had fun with us."

"D'you know when the Russian kid will be back playing? He's my favorite."

"Soon, I hope. We miss having him on the ice."

"Miss who?"

I turned to see Geno standing with Sid on the ice, both of them leaning on their sticks. "You, Evgeni," I replied, grinning, "are you cleared for contact?"

"No contact, but ice time," the Russian beamed.

"You'll be back to full strength soon, let's get to work."

"Suicides," the man wearing the 'C' on his jersey reminded me.

"Yes, sir. Thank you. It was nice talking to you," I waved to the Zamboni driver and lined up with the boys.

When Johnston came out to the ice, we were all out of breath. "All of you are going to be in the best shape of your lives if you keep this up," he shook his head.

"Maybe you should join us next time, old man," Bennett teased. My eyes almost popped out of my head in surprise, and it looked like the other guys were just as stunned as I was at Beau's daring comment.

"Alright, Sunshine. I'll do that," Johnston said after a moment, "But you better be prepared to eat my snow."

"You're on," Beau smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Are you ready for tonight?" Sidney asked as he watched me get ready in the mirror in my bathroom.

"It doesn't really matter if I'm ready, it matters if y'all are ready."

"It does matter; we look to you," Sidney picked at the imaginary lint on his suit jacket. I stared at him in the mirror. He was laying on my bed as if he was at a GQ cover shoot, not my shabby apartment in downtown Pittsburgh.

I turned and leaned against the bathroom door frame, "Are you doing that on purpose?"

"Doing what on purpose?" He asked innocently, finally meeting my gaze. I bit my lip and looked at him through my eyelashes.

"Now you're the one doing things on purpose," Sidney accused.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I spun around and went back to getting ready. I looked at Sid in the mirror and smirked. He stood up and came to stand behind me, placing his hands possessively my on my hips.

"You're mine, Fitzpatrick," he said, his voice huskier than usual and making me ruin my panties.

"Whatever you want, Crosby," I replied, hoping my voice wouldn't waver.