by me
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is fake, fiction, not real. I'm not implying anything about
the values or orientations of those involved. It all originates in my
overactive imagination (comes from not having television as a child).
Pairing: Bates Battaglia/Erik Cole (kinda), Paul Maurice/Ron Francis (kinda)
Summary: post Game 4 in Montreal.
Notes: DO NOT READ THIS! That's your only warning. It sucks a lot, I wrote
it in like 20 minutes, and it's so bad I'm not even putting it on FFN. So
don't read it. Really.
Dedication: Frala, since she wanted Maurice slash. Sorry I only gave her
crappy Maurice sort-of slash.
Paul Maurice stood in the doorway of the locker room, just watching his team.
They were tired, yes, but their spirits were too high to show it.
He smiled as his oldest players, and one of his best, came up next to
him. "Nice game, eh, Mo?"
The coach's smiled widened. "You boys never cease to amaze me."
"Hey, you...you know it's Archie and Kev. You've managed the two of them
amazingly well."
The two of them were quiet, just watching. Weekes and Irbe were talking about
goalie issues in the corner. Nic Wallin was chattering excitedly with
Tommy Westlund in Swedish. Ward and Hedican and Hill were talking and
laughing together. Ronnie found his eyes drawn to the forwards' side of
the room. Their talented rookie Erik Cole was still sitting at his locker,
wearing just a towel. He was laughing at something Bates Battaglia was
saying to him, his eyes bright. As the two leaders looked on, Bates' hand
slipped into Cole's, and the rookie's laughter turned into just a smile,
directed at just one person. Ronnie raised his eyebrows and looked at his
coach. Maurice just smiled and rested his hand on Ron's back. "You're the
Captain, hurry them along."
Sighing, Francis raised his voice. "Boys, let's go! We've gotta get home by
Sunday! Colesy, Batesy, quit flirting and get dressed!" Battaglia blushed,
but the rookie just grinned and pulled on his pants. He wasn't fazed by
much, be it veteran defenseman, supergoalies, or teasing about his love
life.
The flight home was short, and only half the plane slept. Ron sat in the
front, just behind the coaches, watching game tapes and listening to his
teammates talk. "Hey, Ronnie." Rod Brind'Amour sat down beside him.
"Hey."
He jerked a thumb in the direction of the back of the charter. "My linemates
are cuddling."
Ron laughed. "You know, I'm not so sure about mine."
Rod half-stood and looked. Sami's head was nestled on Jeff's shoulder. The
Canadian forward was looking out the window, a half-smile on his face. The
center laughed and sat back down. "You may be right."
"Sometimes I wonder about Joe and Marty, too," Ron said, shaking his head.
"How 'bout you, oh Captain?"
"I'm married," was the quick answer.
"Most people are."
"Yes, and?"
"Come on, Ronnie. Homosexual leanings?"
"Nope," Ron said, his eyes flickering almost imperceptivity towards the front
of the plane. He was talking to one of the NHL's best face-off men,
though, one who staked that reputation on the instinct of knowing exactly
when the linesman was going to drop the puck. He was good at reading
people.
"You're lying," his friend said, laughing. "And I know with who."
"No, you don't."
"I do. But I won't tell."
Ron shook his head. "You're bluffing."
"I'm really not."
"Whatever. I don't believe you."
Roddy shrugged, still grinning. "Yeah, ok."
"Hey, Ronnie," Maurice said, turning around. "Look at this."
He stood up, leaning over the seat to look at the latest set of line
combinations the coaches wanted to try. He offered his comments and sat
back down. Brind'Amour was grinning at him.
"Knock it off, Roddy. You're starting to scare me."
"It's funny."
"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"We're 45 minutes from home."
"Thank god."
Brind'Amour just smiled.
Ronnie was ready to kill him by the time the plane pulled into their gate.
Luckily for Rod, the captain was distracted by the loyal fans that turned
out to welcome their team home. "1:30 in the morning and we've got, what
75 people out here?" he muttered.
Paul Maurice smiled, walking next to him. "Pretty cool, isn't it?"
They smiled for the cheering fans, and nearly everyone signed a few
autographs before retreating to the parking lot. Ron said good night to
Brind'Amour who winked at him as he got into his car. Cole and Battaglia
left together. Eventually everyone had trickled out, leaving the head
coach and captain alone in the lot. Ron turned to him with a smile. "Well."
Maurice reached over to pull him closer, then kissed him deeply. "Good night,
Ronnie."
Squeezing his hand, Francis stood up and opened his car door. "Night, Mo."