Author’s notes: No, no BSB references (I hate them with a passion, but the title works), but this is it: Will Jussi finally tell Tommy how he feels? And of course, this will include the 1-1 tie against St. Louis (With Jussi in net! ^__^), and Tommy watching from the sidelines. Please, please don’t hurt me if it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted for all you Jussi fans! (He is a cutie, isn’t he?)

* * *

"Jussi?" I echoed, taking the phone from her and covering up the mouthpiece. Sasha nodded, and quickly shuffled over and began picking apart at my CD collection. I put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

** Jussi **

Oh my God. He answered. ‘What do you expect him to do? Quack?’ I asked myself rhetorically. I phoned him, with much insistence on Eric’s part, and now I couldn’t go back. "Hi, Tommy. How are you feeling?" Eric poked me and whispered something. "Err, Eric wants you to tell Sasha that he’s extremely upset at her for stealing his medal and that she should return it immediately." Eric nodded his approval, and I shook my head ruefully.

There was a pause on the other end, and I heard Tommy yell something to Sasha. She yelled a reply, and then Tommy came back on. "She says tough luck," Tommy reported. I relayed this information to Eric, who pouted. "What’s up, Jussi?"

More than you know, Tommy, more than you could ever know. "I just wanted to phone and ask you how you were feeling. Craig said you weren’t looking so good yesterday," I explained, and Eric gave me a warning look.

"In all honesty, I feel horrible," Tommy confided, sneezing a little. "Sasha’s chicken soup does miracles, but I think the cold’s coming back. Probably just need a little rest. And someone to hold me," he joked.

"I’d hold you, Tommy," I blurted. My eyes widened as I realised I had said that aloud. Eric’s blue eyes were as wide as saucers. Oh shit.

There was a pause on the other end. "Wh-what?" Tommy asked, sounding like he had not quite heard it. I let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Nothing, I didn’t say anything," I assured him. I got an ‘oh’ as a response, and I was relieved that he didn’t actually hear what I had foolishly blurted out.

Eric nudged me. "You’ve got to tell him, Jussi. Don’t chicken out of this," he said. "You’ve got to tell him."

I nodded, and gulped. "Actually, Tommy, I have something to tell you," I began, biting my lip extremely hard to the point that the skin broke, and it began to bleed lightly.

"Uh, can you hold on a second, Jussi?" Tommy asked. I managed a ‘yeah,’ and Tommy held the phone down, and I heard his footsteps clearly. The seconds seemed to tick by like hours, and every second he was gone, I was losing my confidence. But I had to tell him. I had to tell him how I felt. "Sorry about that, Jussi. What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Here it was. The moment of truth had come. "I…I just…I wanted to tell you…Tommy, I…" Eric looked at me, prompting me to continue. My heart was beating like a hummingbird’s, and I twisted the phone cord around my fingers. "Craig told me that he’s sitting you out tomorrow against St. Louis. He said you needed rest and told me to phone you," I finished lamely, and Eric slapped his forehead. I couldn’t do it; I’m too weak to do actually tell the guy I love that I do love him. I just can’t do it.

"He is? I think that’s just what I need, some rest. Thanks for telling me, Jussi. I’ll see you tomorrow morning though, right?" Tommy asked, the relief in his voice evident.

"Y-yeah, tomorrow. See you then, Tommy," I said, and hung up. Eric looked at me with a completely surprised look on his face. "I couldn’t do it," I whispered. "I just couldn’t tell him, Eric. I just couldn’t…"

Eric nodded, and put an arm around my shoulders. "I understand, but I hope you don’t put it off all the time. If you don’t tell him how you feel, it’s going to mean nothing but more pain—worse than right now—for you." I nodded, feeling completely pathetic.

** Tommy **

I hung up the phone, somehow getting the feeling that Jussi wasn’t telling me something. Sasha looked up. "What’s the deal, Tommy?" Sasha asked, as she finished her thorough inspection of Eric’s gold medal.

"Jussi just phoned to tell me that Craig’s sitting me out tomorrow," I told her. "I think that’s exactly what I need. A break from this…the game…and playing the game. Plus, this cold is making a residence, and I need some time to flush it out."

Sasha nodded as I sat down on the couch beside her. "Do you want me to stay with you for the rest of the day? I don’t have anything else on my schedule. Well, not until we go to Detroit and Sergei Federov takes me out to dinner."

I laughed. "Does Eric know about Sergei taking you out?" I asked, a grin on my face. "Or is this just some moonlighting every time we go to Detroit?"

Eric’s girlfriend grinned broadly, but shook her head. "No, no moonlighting. But before I came to Edmonton to work for the Sun, I lived in Detroit and worked with the Red Wings. Sergei and I became good friends, and we would go out for dinner randomly. Brendan (Shanahan) and Steve Yzerman would join us too sometimes."

"What are their secrets?" I asked, a little childishly. Sasha burst out laughing, and I did as well, and this went on for a good six minutes before we calmed down. "I can’t believe the most fun-est day I have so far is when I’m sick."

"Well then," Sasha began, putting her arm around me and grinning. "You’ll just have to get sick and hang around me more often, don’t you?"

I laughed. "Yes, I suppose I do. What next?"

"Next, you have to rest," Sasha said. "You may not be playing, but I, as well as the rest of the team, want you to be healthy." She then grinned evilly. "Wait, do you want revenge on Smytty for what he said about your make-up on Thursday? And spend some quality time with Jochen?"

I looked at her, interested. "What do you have in mind?"

"What I have in mind is, you and Jochen steal Ryan’s gold medal, then make him beg for it," Sasha explained, clapping her hands together. "It’s so simple, yet so devious. Ryan no doubt still carries around the medal for good luck. All you have to do is snoop around his bag and find it."

"Brilliant, just brilliant," I praised, giving her a hug. "You’re so devious. How does Eric put up with this?

"He never sees it coming," Sasha replied, grinning. "Now you have to rest, Tommy Salo." I didn’t want to sleep, I felt fine, but I knew she was right, and that sleep would definitely benefit me for the game against in Buffalo on Monday. And possibly clear my mind up about telling Jochen Hecht how I felt. Okay, maybe I wasn’t well enough to contemplate that.

** Jussi **

I felt horrible, mentally. I hadn’t told Tommy how I really felt and now I was playing against (although they were injury plagued) a tough St. Louis team that still had Chris Pronger and Al MacInnis. But I pushed that to the back of my mind, and watched as Jamie Salè and David Pelletier dropped the puck for Chris Pronger and our Jason Smith. Tommy sat on the bench, wrinkling his nose every so often, and sneezing lightly.

"I blew it," I muttered, looking over at him. "I had the perfect chance to tell Tommy I loved him and I completely blew it. Even if I ever do tell him, would he ever want to be with someone who doesn’t have the guts to say ‘I love you’ to his face?"

I had no other time to angst over my blown opportunity, as the real face-off happened, and the game began.

Eric Brewer had just levelled Shjon Podein, and even though he was slow to get up, Podein came streaking down the ice. I got ready, my eyes following the puck. Suddenly, he made a head fake and I went down early, then he roofed it to give St. Louis a 1-0 lead. This wasn’t going too well…

I shook it off, not wanting to be off my game because of a goal that clearly had me beaten, and focused on the game for the rest of the period. Tempers flared late in the period, as Pavol Dimetra hit Jason knee-on-knee, and Mike (Comrie), surprising everyone, including myself, tackled Pavol, earning them both minor roughing penalties, and Pavol got an extra two minutes on the call of tripping. As the period closed off, I looked over at Tommy, who was watching the game interestedly.

He looked over to the press section, where Sasha was standing with her camera. "Oh my gosh!" she cried, pretending to be a teenage girl, "Eric Brewer, I love you! Will you marry me!"

Tommy’s eyes widened then he, along with the rest of the guys who had heard, burst out into hysterical laughter. Eric, who was still on the ice, and talking to Jason, turned around to where the cry had come, and burst out laughing, as the cameras focused on him. He skated over to Sasha as the play had been whistled, and suddenly, the ‘Smooch Cam’ focused on a few couples before coming to them.

"Hey, Brewer, Janre, pucker up!" Ryan yelled, pointing to the huge screens. Sasha and Eric both looked up and grinned then kissed, to the whistling of the crowd. The SC then went to the Blues’ bench, where it focused on Pavol and Shjon. They puckered, taking this all in good fun, and I wished it would do that for Tommy, and me but I didn’t think it would.

** Tommy **

I shook my head as Sasha acted like a thirteen-year-old girl and yelled to Eric. Jochen, who had been holding his side in laughter at Pavol and Shjon on the Smooch Cam, skated over to me. "I think those two make a good couple, don’t you think?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh yes, for sure," I agreed, looking up at the huge screens. Suddenly, my eyes widened tremendously, as the crowd began to howl: Jochen and I were the focus of the Smooch Cam. "Uh, Jochen?"

"Yeah?" he responded.

"Look up," I instructed, and his eyes went huge, but he grinned.

"Well, well," Jochen mused, as the crowd began to chant ‘kiss! Kiss!’ in good fun, and Jochen looked at me. "Just pucker up, Tommy."

My eyes widened even wider (if it was possible), but I swallowed, and said, "what the hell?" and puckered, as did Jochen, but I quickly put my hand up and he kissed my hand, to the utter delight of the crowd. I would have loved for nothing more than to actually kiss him, but I didn’t want to be part of another controversy. Plus, it would’ve been pretty stupid to kiss him and then get him sick too. I grinned, shaking my head ruefully.

I looked over to the press section, and Sasha had a huge grin on her face, and patted her camera. "Oh no, you wouldn’t!" I exclaimed, jumping up out of my seat. "You wouldn’t dare put that picture in the paper, would you, Sasha Janre?"

"Who me?" Sasha asked, pretending to be innocent. "Hell yes I would! Although I would have preferred to see some tongue there, Tommy boy." I blushed, turning bright red as the play and the period ended, and the second intermission starting.

** Jussi **

The game was almost over, and I couldn’t believe it. I had made what easily was the biggest save of the night early on, keeping this game 1-0, as not to further dig our team into a hole. Mike Comrie, who was parked out in front of the net, received Ryan’s oh-so-perfect pass, and flicked it into the net, tying the game up. The crowd erupted, and I cheered with them. It was a great goal, and lifted everyone’s spirits.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get any more goals, but that one, crucial point helped us out tremendously into the standings, and now, our battle was to move up. As the guys skated over and congratulated me, I couldn’t help but look over at Tommy. ‘When can I tell you, Tommy? When? When can I actually tell you "I love you"?’

** Jochen **

To be perfectly honest, that Smooch Cam stunt scared the living daylights out of me. Yesterday, I had a dream. About Tommy Salo, and me. I was almost disappointed that he put his hand up to block the kiss, but at the same time, so very relieved. I’m going mad with these feelings. When did I get them? When did I…begin to fall in love with Tommy Salo?

I need to talk to someone. But before any of that could happen, Tommy walks up to me. "Hey," he greeted, the huge goalie pads off and thrown on his spot in the dressing room. A lump has now officially made its residence in my throat.

"Hey," I manage, taking a deep breath. "What’s up, Tommy? You feeling better?"

He nodded with a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I’m feeling much better." He looked over at Ryan. "Do you want to steal some gold?"

What? "What are you talking about?" I asked, an eyebrow arched. This definitely came out of left field, and I was interested.

"Stealing Ryan’s gold medal," Tommy explained in his usual soft voice. "You distract him, and I’ll steal the medal. Then, we make him beg for it in order to get it back. I want a little revenge, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind getting the better of Smytty, would you?" This was a devious Tommy Salo, one that I wasn’t familiar with, but this was definitely intriguing.

I grinned, and shook his hand. "Yeah, I can distract Mullet Boy." Tommy’s smile widened, and we nodded, going off into separate directions. "Hey, Smytty!" I called.

"What?" Ryan asked, looking up from un-lacing his skates.

"Come over here for a minute, I want to ask you something," I said, and Ryan shrugged, coming over. I started up a conversation of our play tonight and the standings, quickly watching as Tommy pawed through Ryan’s bag, and held up the medal, giving me a nod. "Thanks for the tip, Smytty. It really helps me."

"Hey, no problem," Ryan said, smiling, and he went back to getting his gear off, not even noticing the medal was gone.

Tommy ambled up to me, and held up the gold medal proudly, but not for everyone to see. "Have you pick-pocketed things before?" I asked, looking closely at the object in Tommy’s hand.

"No," Tommy replied, a grin on his face. "I haven’t pick-pocketed anyone before…" I gave him a look. "Not in this country."

I grinned. "I knew it, Tommy Salo, you are a thief!"

"Shh, not so loud!" Tommy hushed me, still grinning. Even though it was little, this little stunt made my heart flutter, as weird as it sounded. "Actually, Jochen, there’s something I wanted to tell you."

"Shoot Tommy, I’m listening," I said, as Tommy shoved the medal into his duffel bag discreetly.

"Jochen, I—" Tommy was cut off.

"WHERE’S MY GOLD MEDAL?!?!?!?!" Ryan demanded, visibly freaking out. Tommy and I looked at each other, trying hard to contain the grins on our faces. I guess that whatever Tommy had to tell me would have to wait until Ryan’s ‘crisis’ was over.

This was going to be a lot of fun, Mullet Boy.

-TBC-