The Boy, The Girl, and The Game (Artemi Panarin)

Headache

-Annabelle's POV-

This is the morning of the Flyers game and I was feeling rough. I couldn't sleep last night for the same reason I never get to sleep but for some reason this time it hurts. My mind never stops working and last night was a prime example of why that isn't necessarily a good thing. This migraine on top of it doesn't really help. I sit in my office with my head in my hands while the boys file in for morning skate. I don't want to call in because I could miss something important but minimal contact would help.

The door cracks open and I slowly lift my head not really in the mood to help, but a smile quickly finds its way on my face. Artemi stands there with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates with the goofiest smile on his face.

"Oh those are so pretty, are they for Patrick" I joke and he rolls his eyes. I slowly get up and give him a hug.

"You look beautiful" he says before kissing my head as I cringe. I let a laugh and set the flowers and chocolate on my desk.

"Really, because I feel like shit" I laugh letting him go. He starts to frown and cups my face.

"What's wrong" he asks looking down on me. I thought my knees were going to give out after I looked into his eyes.

"Didn't sleep well, got a killer headache" I say softly as he inched closer.

"How can I fix it" he asks as my breath hitches. I look from his lips back to his eyes and that was more than enough for him to take his lips to mine. "Better" he asks after we break apart as I bite my lip and nod. "I'll be back after practice and I'm taking care of you" he insists.

"But-" I try but he was already out the door. I shrug and go back to my seat, before my butt even connects with the chair there's a knock and I shoot back up. Busy day.

"Come in" I yell and Marian Hossa pops up.

"Hey Anna" he says as I motion to the couch for him to sit and I join him.

"What's up" I ask patting his knee. I learned that he liked physical contact.

"I wanted to ask your opinion on something" he sighs.

"Anything" I assure him and he looks up into my eyes.

"I feel like I am never going to score my 500th goal. I feel like I'm so focused on it that that is what is stopping me. How do I get pass it" he asks with a heavy heart.

"The same way you scored the first 499 goals. You have to trust yourself, you're one hell of the player, one of the greatest to ever play. This team, this organization, were behind you all the way. You need to stop worrying about the things you can't control and focus on the things you can control, like the way you play and how you carry yourself on the ice. The goalie isn't just going to give you that goal, through your two way and strong play you will earn that goal. Just like the other 499" I explain. His somber look turns into pleasure as he nods his head.

"Thank you Anna. You're a lifesaver" he says relaxing a bit more. We both get up and I pull him into a hug.

He wasn't old by any measures but hockey is a tough game for someone of his age. He's been around for a while and has done great things, he'll be in the hall of fame one day. But behind all the myths and legends was simply a amazing guy. He sets off to practice and I try to catch some Z's on the sofa in my office.

After my quick cat nap I get up and get some things done. I write for a little and look through my notes. Despite the 1-2 record they were looking pretty good. It's not like they weren't scoring, the penalty kill just... well it killed. I had a meeting with Jonny tomorrow and I set some things aside to talk about that before closing up shop. Morning skate ends and I wait for Artemi to change so we could go to lunch. After five minutes he waltzes in my office happy as could be, that was one of the things I admired most about him.

"You ready" he asks and I give him a smile. "Are you feeling any better" he asks while wrapping his arm around me.

"A little. I think another kiss would help" I tease. He grabs my chin and pulls me into a short yet passionate kiss leaving me smiling. "Much better" I conclude causing him to laugh.

We take off to a small bistro and enjoy each other's company. He tells me more about Russia and his life before the NHL and I tell about growing up in America. "Thank you for the flowers and chocolates earlier, I really needed that" I comment.

"You shouldn't thank me. I should do things like that for you randomly to show how much you mean to me" he defends.

"That's sweet but you don't owe me anything. The fact that you spend you time with me when you could be doing, well just about anything else, says enough. I appreciate the small things" I shrug before taking another bite of the chicken Alfredo.

"Okay, so I don't have to get you things. But I want to" he replies with a smirk. I give in because there was no point in arguing this. "This food is good but I like you're cooking better" he admits finishing off the plate.

"Thanks, that was very nice of you to say" I smile before leaving my card in the checkbook and handing it to the waiter.

"Hey, I was going to pay" he pouts with his arms across his chest.

"You can't spoil me if I can't spoil you" I demand pointing my finger at him until he raises his hands playfully.

"Fine. You win" he calls out and I nod. This relationship is going to work out just fine.