Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Chapter 22: Things Are Looking Up, Right?

Just a little fluff before my next chapter... which happens to be a favorite of mine recently. Look for it to be up later tonight!
p.s. I see that I've gotten some more followers, I hope you all are still enjoying the story!

“Ok mon cap-i-tan. Tonight is the night you score us a goal.” Sid glanced up at Max as he typed a text to Mel.

“You think so?”


“I hope you’re right. I’m starting to think I can’t score goals or something.” Max just laughed at him, slapping him on the back before wandering over to speak with Jordan about who knows what, girls probably. Sid laughed when Jordan put Max in a headlock before finishing up his message and hitting ‘send’. He waited for the response that he knew would follow. It was always the same. First his message. Have fun watching me skate around. Then came her response. Have fun watching me cheer my head off. Good luck!

They had started doing it one game and he’d scored so they did it every time they played now. He felt the phone buzz in his hand and smiled when he saw the text. Now he could put his phone in his bag and finish getting ready. The guys liked to tease him sometimes about his superstitions but he knew that most of them had at least a few oddities of their own.

Coach went over a couple issues that he felt needed to be addressed, and then they walked onto the runway that lead to the ice. Warm-ups flew by and he skated toward the door and looked up to find Melany in the stands. She was standing between Erin and Amanda and he smiled at her, his new trademark wink sent her way.

They sat in the locker room contemplating all the different little nuances they could do to put a W up tonight and then it was time for the game. Skating back out for the start, he took the ice with his line mates, Brooks and Gonch. They were the five that Disco wanted to start almost every game. He listened to Jimerson belt out the National Anthem and for the first time wished that they were playing a Canadian team so that he could hear his country’s anthem. Oh well, maybe next year.

Thirty-three minutes later they were sitting in the locker room again, all catching their breath from the insanity of the first period. Max had started the scoring and Tanger had gotten the second goal to tie it back up before time had run out. Sid refused to believe that they would come away tonight with anything other than a win.

During the second intermission he was trying to figure out the meaning of life instead of listening to what Billy was suggesting. He couldn’t help it; his mind was a little elsewhere tonight. Not that his play was suffering or anything. He just knew that he had Melany on the brain a little more than hockey. And for once in his life he wasn’t freaking out about that.

The third period saw them getting ahead on the power play. He didn’t score, but he did get an assist so at least he wasn’t completely held off the stat sheet. Max finished them off with an empty netter with less than a minute left and they all skated into a group to celebrate a victory over the Wings. If there was one thing that could make him happy even when he didn’t score, it was celebrating with his team.

He tapped heads with Flower, congratulating him on a victory and smiled when Marc told him not to worry about not scoring. That figured, Flower was probably the only one brave enough to actually say something like that to his face. The rest of the guys might want to tell him that he was freaking out about nothing, but Flower was the only one who could get away with actually saying it aloud. Mainly because of everyone on the team, Flower was probably as hard on himself as Sid was and took about as much heat for not being one hundred per cent. He had to deal with the dozens of questions from the press every time there was a loss, even though they no one on the team blamed Fleur for a loss, Flower would be the first to take the blame.

After a quick shower and a couple mood-changing interviews Sid headed out to the lounge and into Melany’s arms, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and thinking that this series would be okay in the end.


Game 4 was looking a little like Game 3 had. Once again the guys were down 2-1 and this time they were on the penalty kill. Mel was biting her nails as Jordan stole the puck and headed down the ice toward Osgood. C’mon Jordan, c’mon! She watched Ossy go down into his butterfly and then saw the puck hit the back of the net. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh and she was screaming and jumping up and down with Heather, Erin laughing and high-fiving her.

“Amanda is going to be soooo upset that she left for a bathroom break,” she said t o no one in particular. And sure enough Manda came down the steps a moment later mother-effing Staalsy. They all good a good chuckle out of that. Then two minutes later it happened.

Disco put the two-headed monster out to try and make some magic happen. And magic was definitely seen. Sid passed the puck to Geno, Geno passed it back and Sid took the shot, bulging the twine. A beatific look of pure relief washed over his face as he threw his back against the boards and reached for his teammates. Tanger was the first to reach him. You could see the happiness on Kris’s face as he tackled Sid to the ground. The back of his head hit off the ice and he lay there, looking a little dazed, as Tanger and Geno screamed in his face.

Mel didn’t know who helped him up onto his feet again, but she smiled as he skated down to give Flower some love and glanced up at their section. She blew him a kiss like she had before and he caught it, placing it over his heart. Amanda made a gagging motion beside her and they both laughed.

With TK’s goal later in the period they sealed the deal, knowing they were going to be taking the fight back to Detroit for Game 5.

Heading down to the lounge after that win, she swore she could hear them all celebrating in there like they’d just won the friggin’ Cup! Not that she blamed them for it, not one bit. They deserved the win and Mel could only hope that they had it in them to take this all the way. They either needed to win this next one in Detroit and finish it up at the Igloo, or they would need to win Games 6 and 7. Either way they were looking at needing a win at the Joe at least once.

Sid came out and twirled her around a couple times before letting her slide down his body and capturing her lips in a kiss that curled her toes. He promised her a good time that night if she would agree to go out and celebrate for a bit at Diesel.

“Babe, I don’t care what we do tonight. I’m so happy for you!”

“I want to celebrate privately with you though! But everyone’s going out, and I’d hate for them to think that I don’t want to spend more time with them.”

“It’s fine Sid. We haven’t been out to the club with the guys in a while. You all deserve a little break from this insanity.”

“We’re going to beat them Saturday at Joe Louis, and then we’ll come back here and end it at home, like they did last year.”

Mel glanced up and saw the glazed expression, knew that he was going to be thinking about this all night. She touched his cheek, bringing him back to the present.

“Don’t dwell on it Sidney. Let’s go have fun and then go back to your place and have even more fun!”

Sid nodded in agreement and leaned down to whisper in her ear all the things he wanted to do to her. She blushed after the fourth idea and didn’t stop blushing until he had her snug against him after their second round of the night. Max had teased them both, picking them because they spent more of the time at the club just sitting on the couch and not really dancing or drinking. Sid used his torment as an excuse to leave and within five minutes of getting through the side door she was moaning as he filled her with thrust after thrust.

Basking in the glow of two rounds of sweaty post-game sex, Mel lay sprawled out over his body, her cheek against his chest, listening to him breathing heavily.

“We’ll get them on Saturday.”

“I know you will.”

“We have to.”

“Not technically.”

“No… we need that win.” Mel wanted to argue but she knew where that would get her… nowhere.

“Okay Sid. You’ll beat them in Game 5, and finish them off in Game 6.”

“You really believe we can do this, don’t you?” It wasn’t asked like he doubted it, exactly. He asked more like he needed to hear someone else say it. He doesn’t think they can do this.

“Sidney Patrick Crosby. You stop thinking that right now.”


“I don’t ever want you to doubt yourself ever again! You are going to win this series! You are going to make Hossa sorry that he lied to your face and signed with them. Mark my words. You’re going to be lifting that Cup!”

She laughed then as Sid tackled her onto her back and started to ravish her again. They were going to be leaving bright and early the next morning, and she knew that this was her last chance to show him some lovin’ until Saturday night when he got back from Detroit. And by that time he’ll be too exhausted to really want to do much. But he’ll have another win under his belt. Even as she thought the words though, she had this feeling that Saturday night was going to end a little bit differently than he thought.


Sid went through the motions of putting everything away as normal. He didn’t know how he was so calm, but deep inside he knew that freaking out wasn’t going to get them anywhere. But what had just happened out on the ice… He blinked back tears of frustration and anger.

They had literally fallen apart. Marc had become a sieve and no one had done much to back him up. Garon had come in and held down the fort, but after a 5-0 lead, it wasn’t like they could mount ,much of a comeback. Well, maybe they could’ve, if they’d managed to stay out of the damn box. That many 10-minute misconducts were just pathetic.

What had been worse though were the jeers of the fans. He’d never let it bother him before, not that he ever really listened. But tonight he hadn’t been able to drown them out. They’d been ruthless. Were their fans that bad? Did they ever say things to the opposing teams like that? Feeling a hand on his shoulder he turned, expecting to see Coach, or his dad, or even Mario. But there, standing in front of him with a wary expression, was Max.

“Are you okay Sid?”

“I’m fine.”

“Mon ami, none of us expected anything like this…”

“I said I’m fine Max. Drop it.”

“Well, you’re standing there, holding your jersey and literally shaking. You obviously aren’t fine.”

“I want to punch something. I want to scream from the rooftops for these fuckers to suck my dick. I want to fire some pucks at the net and most of all I want to ram their smirking faces in the dirt. Happy?!”

Sid looked around, noting that all of the guys were watching them. Now that he had a chance to think about it more, he realized just how frustrated he was with everything. With all of the tension in his body he was fucking time bomb waiting to go off. He needed release. He needed to relax. He needed Melany.

His nostrils flared as he thought about the prospects of getting back to her, plying her body with pleasure to work out the kinks in his body. But he needed rough, hard, sweaty sex. He didn’t want to hurt her, that would kill him, but remembering the red imprint his palm had left on her ass made him almost hiss with need.

He grabbed his phone off the stall and went to go online to book a hotel room when he noticed a text from her.

Come home baby, I’ll be waiting for you in bed. We’ll talk. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear her tell him everything would be alright. Neither of them knew if that was true. No, he wanted to feel himself lost inside her, feel her muscles clenching around him as she screamed his name. He wanted her to scratch up his back. He wanted her to beg for it. That was what he needed from her.

As he drove up the hotel at the airport and called, booking the penthouse on the top floor, he just hoped that she would understand what he needed from her tonight.


Mel sat in the giant recliner in Brooks’ living room. The Triple Threat, as the boys now called them, had decided to watch the game together. The third period was winding down and it was a sure thing that the Pens had no chance of coming back and winning. She pulled her phone out and sent Sid a quick text so that he’d know that she was there for him.

“They are going to be complete hell to deal with tonight,” Amanda murmured as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Erin and Mel nodded their heads, silent. What could they say? What was left to say? They’d done their job with the pep talk earlier that week. They thought that the guys had heard them loud and clear.

Obviously not. They had played like they were a completely different team tonight. Like they knew going in that they couldn’t win.

“What the fuck just happened?” Mel asked quietly. “That was not the team I saw Tuesday and Thursday. This was like last year’s Finals and this year’s winter slump combined!”

“You didn’t even watch last year’s Finals,” Erin said with a slight smile.

“True, but I’ve heard you two talking about it. And I’ve watched the highlight reels. I get it, I think. I mean, I’m pretty on the mark with my assumption, right?” Both of her friends nodded their heads before they all started cleaning up. She heard the final buzzer in the background and just turned the TV off. No sense watching it, nothing good will be on anyway.

Taking a couple plates and glasses into the kitchen, she had just walked back into the living room when the first phone rang. Brooks. She and Erin motioned for Amanda to go find a quiet place to talk while the loaded up the dishwasher and found containers for leftovers. That was almost finished when Erin’s phone went off. Geno. Mel just nodded her head and watched Erin walk down the hall as she answered her cell.

Ten minutes later both of her friends were back and she still hadn’t heard from Sid. He’s just busy with interviews, it doesn’t mean anything. Even as she said the words though, a sliver of hurt pierced a hole in her heart. These were the times when they needed to be there for one another. He needed to trust that she had to try and make things better, even if she didn’t know how.

“I’m sure he just,” Erin’s thought was cut short as Mel’s phone started ringing in her pocket. Thank god.


“I need you tonight.”

“I know baby. I’ll be waiting for you at Mario’s.”

“No, come to the airport. We’re spending the night at the Hyatt there.”

“Why can’t we just--”

“Because I don’t want to wake anyone in the house up when you’re screaming my name.” She didn’t know if she should be scared by that comment or not, but the only thing that ran up her back was a shiver of desire.


“I’d never hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“Do you trust me?”


“Thank you. And Melany…”

“Yes,” she practically whispered, his harsh voice turning her legs to jelly.

“Bring the kit, love.” Click.

She shut her phone and looked at her two friends.

“Erin, are you going to the airport?”

Erin didn’t say anything, just nodded her head. She and Amanda were both looking at her, waiting for an explanation. They’d only heard her half of the conversation and she knew they were probably wondering what the hell had been said. She wouldn’t go into detail though. Instead, she’d just tell them what he wanted her to bring. They’d been at the party. They would know what he meant.

“Can you take me with you, please?”

“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?”

“It will be. Remind me to grab something out of my car before we head out though.”

“Alright… what?” Mel glanced up and smiled at her friends. It was to reassure them that she knew what she’d be getting into later tonight, and that she was okay with it. They smiled back and then Mel let out two words.

“The kit.”


    I don't even know what else to say... I'm excited to hear about "the kit" but nervous at the same time.

  2. I agree with the above comment.

    I just want to point out that I got on VS after Jordan's shorty in game four. And game five was absolutely painful. I can't wait for the next chapter.... or tonight's game for that matter. GO PENS! <3