Rating: PG
Original Date of Completion: December 2002
Disclaimer: I don't own Andrew Ference or the Detroit Red Wings. I do however own Megan Lindsay and Anthony Owen, so please don't steal them. This is still 100% fake, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. So yeah, don't sue me.
Author's Note: Please see the LuckyVerse for in depth explanation of the characters and events herein.
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His smile kills me. I probably see it a few hundred times a day; when he's waking up first thing in the morning, when he's firing a shot at practice and it goes right over Manny's head, or when he's on the ice crunching some little bitty guy like Martin St. Louis into the boards. It's very seldom you won’t see a smile on his face. But still no matter how often I see it, I melt for it every time.
When Detroit picked me off waivers, winding up with Anthony was the last thing I ever expected. I honestly expected to spend the entire time in the AHL, because there was no way I was cracking their roster. Their D was already so deep; guys like Chelios, and Lidstrom, and Fischer. And Anthony Owen the Wonder Rookie leading the way. I used to watch him when I was in Wilkes-Barre, and I'd just marvel at how awesome he was. Here was this 18-year-old kid, and he was playing 30 minutes a game, and looking damned good while doing it. Everywhere you turned in the professional hockey world, someone was talking about him. There had never been anyone like him before, no one that young made it as a D-man in the NHL. But Anthony did, and he did a damned good job at it. As pathetic as it sounds, with me being the "veteran" or whatever, the only thing I hoped for when I found out that Detroit had picked me up, was maybe getting the chance to play with him.
But I thought for sure that would never happen. Detroit was the best defensive team in the league, and they had 3 very strict pairings. Lidstrom and Anthony led the way, with Chelios and Fischer, and Dandenault and Olausson/Girard rounding things out. The most I could wish for was maybe getting a chance to prove myself, and get carried as the 7th defenseman. But my chances for that didn't look very good, because when Megan Lindsay praised her D, Girard was often mentioned in the praise. And if she was even the littlest bit like her father when it came to coaching, she was sticking with what she knew. Especially because we were barely a month away from playoffs, and they were already the #1 seed.
So I flew to Detroit, completely expecting to be told I was needed in Grand Rapids. But when I got there, Vinnie Ortega, the D coach met me at the airport. And the first thing he said was "Olausson was traded to Boston, and Girard is out with his ankle, you're playing tonight. It was a bit much to take in all at once. I was honestly shocked about all of it. Here I was expecting to not play a single game wearing the Winged Wheel, and I was thrust into the lineup on my first day. I'm not complaining by any stretch of the word, it was just a shock.
That day got even more shocking though. In between getting my new #77 jersey (I couldn't have 7, that was retired for Ted Lindsay), and meeting my new teammates, I had my first conversation with Megan. And the first thing she said to me was "You're paired with Kid tonight." It took me a bit to figure it out, but Kid was Anthony; being an 18-year-old on the NHL's oldest team was liable to get you a nickname like that. I hadn't even met him at that point, he was off doing a photo shoot for Sports Illustrated when I got there. But I met him later on that day, right before we took the ice for warm-ups. He came right up to me and introduced himself, in his standard (so I found out) way "Hey, I'm Anthony Owen. Don't call me Tony." And then he smiled. That was the first time that his smile melted me.
That was far from the last time though. We kicked tons of ass our first game together; we had two assists and a goal between us (his, not mine), and accounted for 3/4 of the teams 48 hits on the night. And because we did so good, Megan left me in the lineup even though Girard could play the next game. After that game, a nice 4-0 win over the Blackhawks, in which I had another assist, it was onto the last road trip of the season; the Rangers, the Islanders, Philly and Pittsburgh. I was pretty damned nervous about it, not just because it was my first time playing against Pittsburgh, but because it would be the first time I would actually have to room with one of my teammates. I'd only been with the team for 4 days at that point, and I hadn't really gotten to know any of them. I completely expected to wind up rooming with a veteran, Yzerman, Shanahan, Robitaille, one of those guys. But when we got to the Cheraton in New York, rooming assignments were handed out, and I was with Anthony.
I can cease my rambling right there. The rest of the story is simple anyway. We roomed together for the rest of the season, and all the way through the playoffs. Even though during the playoffs I sat out in favor of Girard, watching the guys win the Cup was awesome. I didn't go anywhere near it, of course, because I didn't win it myself. But watching everyone else with it was really spectacular. Especially him. That smile on his face was even bigger when he was around the Cup. But he had every right to be excited, they won the Stanley Cup and he was a huge reason for it. I wouldn't find out until later on that part of the reason he was smiling so much was me.
Training Camp proved to be a much different experience than I figured too, much like my first day with the team. Girard decided to be a hold out, in search of more money that they weren't going to give him. So when the season started, I had the ball to run with. I didn't do such a bang-up job to start with. Dandy and I had the least amount of chemistry in the world. We were both a minus-4 two games into the season. I thought for sure then that my chances were done, and they were going to pay Girard what he wanted. But again, Detroit surprised me. They traded Girard to Tampa, and Megan pulled me into her office and told me straight up how it was going to be. "I'm going to give you another shot at staking your claim for a permanent spot. I'm pairing you back with Kid, you guys did awesome last season. You've got 10 games to prove to me that you're worthy of staying in. If you fuck up, I won't hesitate to put in one of the rookies."
Part of the reason I love Megan as a coach so much is her brutal honesty. I think if she had beat around the bush with me, and not put the pressure on me, I probably would've taken longer to get into the swing of things. But with the pressure on me, I pushed myself to the limit, and it all worked out. Back together with Tony (He'll kill me if he sees this), I performed to the levels that everyone had always expected me to. The two of us got into a groove, and quickly established ourselves as a top defensive pairing in the NHL. And while neither one of us were candidates for the Norris just yet, we had the respect of our peers, and of the hockey media, which is damned hard to get. Sports Illustrated called us "the most sound and disturbing defense pairing in all of hockey." They'd always ask us why we played so well together, and every time we gave them the same answer. "We just click."
It wasn't until we won our first Stanley Cup TOGETHER, that we finally realized why. In the midst of all the celebration, and all the excitement, a revelation slipped from his lips that he'd apparently been holding in for a while. Sandwiched in between him, the Stanley Cup, and Jiri Fischer, he bent down (wayyy down, he is 6'6" after all) and whispered "I love you" in my ear. I didn't think anything of it then, 60 different people had told me they loved me that day. It never honestly crossed my mind that he might actually love me until the next day after the parties died down. It was then, after we took our picture with the Cup, that he pulled me off to the side and kissed me. It was shocking at first, but I never had a gripe. I knew for a long while by that point that I was in love with him. I'd just spent the whole time telling myself how wrong it was to be in love with my 19-year-old defense partner. Even when he kissed me, I still kind of thought that. But then I saw him smile, and all of those thoughts were gone. Little melty puddles can't form thoughts.
It's hard to believe that was two years ago. Two years and two Stanley Cups later, we were still together. We weren't rooming together anymore, Megan said we made too much noise, but we were just as in love as ever. Maybe more so. We've grown up a lot together. He was 21 now, 22 in July. Me, I was 25 and felt every bit of 18 because of him. He had that effect on anyone he was around; he was a big boost of energy for our entire team. But I got it more than anyone else. Because no matter how bad I may be feeling, or how tired I could be, one look at his smile and all of that was gone. He'd made my life what it is today. Without him my career wouldn't be where it is, I definitely wouldn't have the two lovely rings that I do. And without him, my life wouldn't be where it is, because I could never have been this happy with anyone else. Because no one else had that smile.
I'm sitting alone on Megan's deck, just taking a break from the festivities when he comes out to find me. He flashes that smile, and as always, my heart flutters, and I grin at him. He's come to know what that's all about, and he's surprisingly cute about it. He probably smiles more than he would if he didn't know, but I've got no complaints. Two years together, and about to enter into our third, I've definitely got no complaints.
"What are you doing out here all by yourself, Goofball?" He asks, sitting next to me on the marble bench.
I smile, and briefly get lost in Moon's reflection in his shimmering blue eyes. He's really far too beautiful for words. "Just thinking," I reply, bringing his hand to my mouth and kissing it when he entwines our fingers.
"About me?"
"But of course,"
He smiles and leans in for a kiss. But before our lips have a chance to meet, the countdown sounds from inside the house, and we pull apart with grins on both of our faces.
"I guess we have to wait huh?" I ask him as the countdown strikes 8.
"No," He replies, slipping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him. "Let's end the old year the same way we want to start the new one,"
Our lips connect softly, and his hand slips into my hair. This kiss is no more than a light meeting of the lips, but we keep them pressed together as the countdown rolls on. 3, 2, 1, and excitement blares. I take the opportunity to bring our kiss into the new year, and slide my tongue along the seam of his lips. His lips part, inviting me entrance, and eagerly his tongue greets mine. They caress gingerly, passion exuded with each bit of contact. As I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, he whimpers and clenches his hand in my hair. This was an all too familiar routine, one of our favorites in fact. I could think of no better way to kick off the new year. I nibble softly on his lip, and he whimpers, his lips curling into that smile as I pull away from him.
He grins at me, reaching up and pushing my hair back from my forehead. I blow at it as it falls back down, and with a mock sigh he leans up and kisses me on the forehead. As his lips pull away from me, we hear a voice being cleared behind us. Both of our heads snap in the direction of the noise, and it's then we see our coach, looking pleasantly drunk with two flutes of champagne in her hand.
"Drinking for two tonight, Meg?" Anthony asks her, sliding closer to me as she walks over to us.
"Nope, three," She giggles, extending the flutes towards us. "Take them, ring the new year in properly,"
We took the flutes from her with smiles, garnering one from her in return. She patted both of us on the cheeks, then turned and walked back to the party, yelling "Happy New Year!" as she walked back inside. Both Anthony and I shook our heads, leaning against each other as the giggles overtook us. They didn't last long, being silenced by a quick kiss. We grin at each other as we separate, and glance at the champagne in our hands. It's not unlike Megan to do something to the drinks, but with a quick sniff of the glass, Anthony proclaims it okay as he extends his glass into the air.
"To us?" He asks with a grin.
"To us," I shrug, clanking our glasses together.
In a typical lame couple thing that we do, we entwined our arms ala wedding day type thing, and then took a drink of the champagne. He killed his entire flute in one gulp, while I still had a half of one as we separated. With a grin, I brought the flute to his lips, tilting it back and watching the bubbly liquid disappear. He wiped his lip as I pulled the glass away, then leaned forward and placed a quick peck to my nose. I pulled away from him with a giggle, furiously wiping at my nose with the back of my hand.
"Happy New Year, Andy," He giggled, that smile plastered across his face.
I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, pulling away with a smile of my own. "Happy New Year, TONY,"
As I bolted away from him and into the house, one little thought was on my mind. As long as he and I were together, it would definitely be a happy new year.
THE END
© 2002 Triple X