Heart of Man

“We all know Trovato plays center, but really steals the show on the right side. Why would Boucher keep her on the left, but switch out their right wing constantly? It just doesn’t make sense to me. Is he trying to make her an all-around stronger forward? Make her even more agile as a playmaker? What is going through his head? She’s an excellent passer, but she also manages to snag the tightest of goals, and I just don’t understand why Boucher doesn’t set their lines up to completely utilize what she’s good at.”

“You know, I don’t think it’s so much as developing her as a playmaker, because she adapts where necessary. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty against the other players, which is something we don’t see too much of, out of Harper and McGregor, and I think that’s a good point to Trovato. She’s not the same kind of player, and while she is still having problems adjusting in certain areas, she has vastly improved since her first NHL game in others.”

“Matt, are you trying to tell me that Yzerman brought this girl on as an enforcer?”

“Definitely not. Just that when it’s necessary, she doesn’t hesitate. You saw this in the current series. Game 1 against Washington, it was a constant ‘Are they going to fight?’ mental battle between her and Alexander Semin. It kind of died out, especially in Game 2 and Game 3, but tonight it was back, and it has been a long time since I’ve seen anything like that. She’s racking up the Gordie Howe numbers ridiculously fast. It’s just surprising. Maybe Tampa Bay should look into adding it to their records, much like the Pittsburgh Penguins, Vancouver Canucks, Montreal Canadiens, and several others. It’d be well worth it. She’s already had 4, so 13 to go to beat the record.”

“As a flexible player, it’s good to have someone with adaptable playing styles, and positions. It’s like having play-doh as your roster. Put anyone anywhere and they perform spectacularly, and I think Anna Trovato is Guy Boucher’s play-doh for the Tampa Bay Lightning.”

“There’s no way I could disagree with you there. The nights where Trovato is on her game, her stick-handling is flawless, and every time something happens, her stick is there, just dangling the puck. She reminds me of Pavel Datsyuk in several ways, those nights. When she’s leading her line with Gagne and Malone, she doesn’t even think, and makes the plays that make my head spin.”

“It’s like she’s adapted her style, from the KHL, to fit the NHL, in the most bizarre way. Angles and dekes and moves that shouldn’t even be possible on the ice size we have here, she’s accomplished. Unfortunately, these nights are rare, but she really needs to bring them back if the Lightning want to close out this series over Washington.”

“Something else that makes my head reel. Besides the Omsk-Chekhov Superbrawls they had every time they played, Anna was not a fighter. Yes, the occasional scuffle, but never this. What’s going on? She’s racked up some penalty minutes in a short amount of time. She’s put more minutes in this single series alone, than she has the rest of the season combined.”

“I wondered about that also. Boucher never seemed to mind, when he was interviewed, so we let it go, but I think it has something to do with Harper.”

“But we really can’t bring Erika Harper into this, because she’s hardly involved. Game 1, Trovato was gunning for Semin. Game 2, they’re all buddy-buddy. Game 3, I don’t even think she showed up for the game at times, she flat out skated out of his path, and missed several great opportunities. Tonight, we’re back to Game 1 on a whole new level. She doesn’t have problems with anyone else on the ice, that we’ve seen.”

“Maybe it’s just bad blood. Those people you meet who you just don’t like for any reason, I think that’s what this is, and it’s something they are going to have to learn how to overcome. At first, I thought it was teasing, in a similar fashion to Harper and Crosby’s relationship, but every time I see them interact, I start to think otherwise even more and more.”

“Or the forever mafia conflict, Russians and Italians.”

“Trovato is heavily-skilled for an Italian hockey player. I mean, hockey is barely alive in that country, outside of novice levels and pick-up leagues. You’d have to entirely attribute it to the Finnish side of her family, her mother. Whatever happened, and considering where she came from, it just blows my mind. End of story.”

“On the ice, she’s a flexible player, and a lot of potential once she finds her grounding on NHL ice. What about off the ice?” He was cut off, as the screen faded into Boucher’s interview.

“Outside of hockey, Anna’s very private. She just goes off and does her thing, and then comes back. I’ve learned not to question it, to be honest. I actually don’t know much of what she does outside of practice, and games, unless it’s with a teammate and he tells us.” Then it switched to the Forum section, quickly clicking over to a section with Simon, Dana, and Steven sitting in a few seats near the ice at the Forum.

“Anna’s a charmer, that’s all I can say. At first, I thought she was this snarky little girl trying to show up Harper and McGregor, then leave, but it’s not even the case. She really loves hockey, and sometimes she pushes herself too much, beyond a limit, but she’s a good person. She loves to watch the team’s kids so we can go out with our wives, and such. I know this summer, a friend on another team is going on vacation with his wife for a month, and Anna’s taking their son to Russia with her. I mean, she just drops everything for anyone, and she loves to do it. If she ever settles down..” Simon snickered for a second, before looking at Steven who began roaring with laughter.

“Oh my God, don’t bring it up, she’ll kill us!”

“What’s that about, Simon?”

“Oh, the guys love to give her a hard time with this guy she’s got a thing for.” He patted Stammers’ shoulder, before continuing. “Anyways, if Anna ever settles down, she’s going to be a fantastic mother. She cares. That’s all I can say. She’s a caring person.”

Steven gave him a dirty look. “She’s always being mean to me. Teasing me and everything, especially when I go out with her and Dana. Sometimes we go to movies, the night scene, random ice rinks, bookstores, anything, and we always have fun. She knows how to relax and cut loose, which is really great. She’s also like our designated driver all the time. Even if we go to practice, she drives. Horribly, I might add. I don’t think she’s ever gone under 70 in the US.”

“Honestly don’t know how she controls the car.” Dana smacked him in the shoulder harshly, making Steven rub it apprehensively. “ I mean, she drives our cars, since she doesn’t have one yet, and just goes. Never driven it before, but she just has a ton of control. We think she used to race overseas, but she won’t tell us anything. She handles it like she does the puck, which is flawlessly. She fills our cars up with gas all the time, so I think she feels bad for giving us heart attacks. Anna’s super sweet, but she makes everything up to you tenfold if she feels bad for anything. She’s fantastic with kids, so if I ever get married and have a family, I’m calling Anna. She’s like my best friend. We do everything together, and she babysits me when we go out at night, which is a plus for anyone.”

Kicking Dana back, and then moving out of the way, Steven continued. “I’ve actually never seen someone drink that much, and still be able to function normally. Me, Gags, Tyrell, Vinny, Marty, Pavel, Roli, and a few others went out before playoffs started, and had a drinking competition.”

“I think she touched 2 six-packs and didn’t even looked fazed. She could walk, recite three alphabets in three languages, everything. Stammers, Anna, and I shared a bottle of wine 3 ways, and I could feel it, but she didn’t, again. She said she felt normal, even, no buzz or warm tingling or anything.”

Steven cut Dana off, before looking back towards the interviewer off camera. “Can we say this on TV?”

Dana completely disregarded the information barrier. “She made us try all these different kinds of vodka, and if we didn’t like them, she’d finish them. I don’t even remember how much we went through, but it was an outrageous bill for everything, and she covered it all. Loaded our drunk asses into the car and drove us home.”

“I want to know how we got home in one piece. I remember her helping me into my apartment before taking Dana to his.”

“I don’t even remember getting home.” Dana looked towards Steven, before the pair of them looked towards Simon. His face was in his hands, obviously trying not to die of laughter.

Straightening back up, Steven faced the camera. “Anna really cares about us, as much as we do her. We love having her, and I really hope she stays with us for a long time. She’s good for us, and vice-versa.”

Gagne pipped back in his view on the situation. “Anna? She hasn’t mentioned anything to me for next year, but I can only hope she stays. She’s always on the phone with her agent, but I hope she doesn’t go back to Russia. I mean, there’s no guarantee any of us with stay with the Lightning, but Anna belongs in the NHL. It’s good for her as a player.”

The screen faded black, and then back to the SportsCenter desk. “It looks like her teammates really enjoy her, so it’s definitely not an internal problem. But by the looks of it, Trovato’s nothing but a marshmallow.”

“Well, maybe her and Alex Semin can get over whatever problem they have with each other, and enjoy that marshmallow side of her.”

“Well, by the looks of things earlier this evening, it appears that the two of them enjoy each other’s company more than we thought. They spent the end of the third period in the boxes from fighting, and then leave in the middle of an interview with the other.”

~

I cringed, watching the dreaded clip play on the screen. Teemu was next to me, the Ducks having been eliminated already, eating the bowl of popcorn. Saku had stayed with his family at the time, but my phone already had a text message from him. “This is fantastic, Anna. Why don’t you just ask him to marry you, while you’re at it?”

“Fuck off.” I grumbled, as my phone vibrated again. Snatching it open, I clicked the answer button, and then the speaker button, Val’s voice echoing in my apartment.

“Anna Banana, what is going on? Great game, by the way. I personally loved the whole Semin whisking you away into Neverland, but that’s just me. Tell me; we all saw what happened on camera, but tell me what happened off camera? Is my little kulta growing up? Do I need to give you and him the talk?” I clicked the phone off, completely infuriated with the Finn.

I should have known this would have all blown to shit.

~

“Hey Anna, can I talk to you for a second?”

I froze, seeing the brunette in my sights. The cool air blowing through the hall didn’t help my body from growing cold, my clean change of black shorts and Omsk hockey shirt doing absolutely nothing for me. They were supposed to keep me warm. Lies. All of them.

But more importantly, did she know? Did he tell her? Did she know where I was going? Did she see anything? My heartbeat was racing ninety miles an hour, the point of where I was pretty sure she could hear it, had she listened close enough. Steadying my breathing, I turned to her, hoping I didn’t appear flustered or anything of the sort. “Sure, Harper.”

She stood before me, running her hair through her hair. She had more than likely just finished a shower, which just made me wish I could get back to the locker room so we could fly back to Tampa. I was so tired, and the fatigue was getting to me. “Listen, I’m going to be straight forward with you right now. I don’t understand why you don’t like me. And being completely honest, it bothers me. It bothers me more than Carcillo and Pronger do. And I have no idea why. Was it something I did? Cause I know I can be quite an ass sometimes. Sidney even told me that.”

My eyebrows rose, as she continued to speak for a moment. Wrapping my hands behind my back, I stood there watching her, hoping to keep a straight face. “To be completely honest, I really don’t care about you, Erika Harper. You are a great player, and I should not be affecting your talent.” I paused for a second, thinking about what I wanted to say. “You know that feeling you get when you first meet someone, and you just don’t like something about them? Maybe it’s that. Maybe I just don’t like how you got a free ride to your dream, and I had to beg for mine. Everything you do is for you, and everything I do, is for someone else. Is it so wrong to be a little jealous? Live and let be, Harper.”

She looked taken aback for a second, making me want to slap myself in the face. Never had a way with words. “Look, you may think I got a free ride, but let’s be honest here, what do you know really? If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year it’s that things are not what they seem. I’ve been through a lot. That being said, that doesn’t mean you haven’t either, or that it was harder for me. Roxy taught me that. I’m a very cynical person, Anna, and I immediately assume the worst in people. The struggle each person goes through is different in each way, but just as hard no matter what. And you know, I do plenty of things for other people. I care very much for the people in my life. And I respect players in this league. I may not have liked you, but I respect you. You don’t have to care about that fact, but I thought you should at least know that.”

She gaze drifted away from mine, as I watched her think about her words, shifting in her stance. I had been too harsh, and I often forgot that times have changed. But it was also time for me to change as well. “In how I think about myself and how I got here, I’m happy with where I am. Maybe I regret how I got here, but I certainly do not regret it as a whole. I play different than you, and that will have to be something you will have to adjust to. Trust me, once I adjust, I play better. It’s an unfortunate downfall, and something I have to live with. It’s gotten me more metal than I know what to do with. The IIHF is my playground, and I’ve gotten tired of it. My road’s been full of doing everything to please someone else, so the taste of personal victory is never there. I envy you for that. You’re a challenge, and one I enjoy immensely. I try to think of you as another obstacle, but you’re a legend in your own way. I hope you understand that, alright?”

She looked back up at me, beaming with a radiant smile on her face. “I don’t want to hate you, Trovato. We don’t have to be friends but... we can at least have some peace with each other, don’t you think? I’m tired of resenting people for absolutely no reason.”

Shrugging, I was kind of confused on why she chose now to approach me with this. “Whatever makes you comfortable, Erika. I aim to please.”

I smiled slightly again, this time because she called me by my first name. “I would like that. Sorry for holding you up with whatever you were doing.” I gave her a stiff nod before continuing on my way, but I stopped and turned back to her for a second. “And Anna -try doing something for yourself at least once. You’ll find how much better it will make you feel.”

“I will. Eventually.” I kept my eyes focused on her, before rubbing the back of my neck. I had another question for her, hoping that I wasn’t running severely late. “Question for you, by the way.”

“Shoot.” I replied casually, turning to face her again.

“Have you seen Ale-“ I cut myself off for a moment, hoping to correct myself, just in case. “Semin. Have you seen Semin?”

She planted a large grin on her face, as if she was holding back a laugh. I cocked an eyebrow at her, and she continued, but let it go. “Haven’t seen Sasha since the game ended. Bastard disappeared without so much as a goodbye. I’m sure you’ll find him though.”

I sighed heavily, rubbing my arm. Looks like she didn’t know after all, so that was definitely a relief. I guess it meant he was already up there, and I was definitely late. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you in Tampa?”

Trying to look past her, I saw the elevator he told me to go to, that went straight up to the Press Box. Still wasn’t sure what happened to the ‘no-more-post-game-meetings’ rule, but it was apparently thrown out the window. Erika nodded to my question, earning my attention back in her direction.

“See you there. Oh, and good luck.” She turned around before I could say anything, and began to skip away? I shook my head, sort of glad that she was clueless on the whole situation. Definitely didn’t near to hear about the whole thing from her also. Hell, it wasn’t even a thing. It was two people having a friendship. Nothing more, and nothing less.

~

/*In Russian*/

“This is the Media Box.” I looked through the opening that allowed the broadcasters to view the ice, being careful to not touch any of the keyboards or computers that were laid out on the desk. Listening to Alex talk about the room, I couldn’t help but frown for a moment.

“It’s not the media-..”

“Yes, it is. It’s the room where all the media stays.”

“It’s the press box.” Sticking my tongue out at him, I enjoyed the teasing atmosphere surrounding us. He had spent the past thirty minutes or so, showing me all the different levels of the Verizon Center, and several other rooms, before we made it to our final destination.

He sighed heavily, a chaste grin on his face. “I’m more of an on-ice type of person, Anna, so if you want specifics, go bother Semyon.”

Quirking an eyebrow, I turned fully to him. “If I bother you so much, why text me and bring me on a journey to Narnia? There are about seven thousand people I can ask, and I think I want to ask you, instead.”

Turning away from his smirking expression, I continued walking through the long box, eying the publications that were framed on the wall, jerseys, and everything else. Moving one of the mice on the only Macintosh computer, there was a background image of the Capitals’ current season’s roster picture, back from August of 2010. Searching out my companion’s face, a smile formed on my face, before I turned to him.

His eyes were set on me, making me instantly subconscious onto the expression I couldn’t read. “Anna..”

I cleared my throat, hoping to distract him from whatever he was saying. Looking away to one of the old playoff articles on the wall, I stepped farther as he took a few closer. I wanted as much distance between us, as possible. “Semin, have you ever noticed how similar the Verizon Center’s press box is to the Forum’s?”

“Do you think there will ever come a time when you can stand in a room with me, and not think of me as Alexander Semin, the hockey player?” Crossing my arms, I could feel his hands on my upper arms, as I sighed. He confused me, to the point of me not knowing how I felt. Just being around him…

It shouldn’t matter. It was a quick thing that would blow over once one of our teams went on. It’s what happens when you are around a person for so long. Vancouver didn’t even matter at this point, and neither did these playoffs. “This isn’t a state of mind. You are Alexander Semin, star winger of the Washington Capitals. And when I’m in a room with you, box or any other shape, I’m always going to be a Bolt, and you’ll always be a Capital.”

Within seconds, he pulled me around, his hands still holding me close, yet far enough for me to breathe somewhat calmly. “I have news for you, Anna Trovato. As a Lightning player, you will never be alone in a room with a Capitals player.”

“Then who am I in a room alone with?” He mused at my words, before wrapping his arms around my waist. Shuddering, I placed my own on his arms, feeling extremely timid in front of his gaze.

“Me.”

Watching him, he pulled me closer, causing my breath to hitch. Whatever force that made me consider coming up here, to talk to him, to even let him touch me, should be burned. I didn’t want this. “You think this is a good idea?”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against mine. “Probably not.”

Boucher never lied; something about the man holding me drew me in, and would be my downfall. He leaned closer, to where I could feel his breathing against my lips, when a phone went off. He let go of me with one hand, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the silver device. He clicked the button, and raised it to his ear, still not letting go of me completely.

I could hear Ovechkin’s drunken babble on the other end, in a slur of fucked up Russian. After a few moments, I could decipher my name out of the conversation, and then a question on where Alex was, and why he wasn’t with him. After a few moments, he sighed, before clicking the phone off, and put it back in his pocket.

His hand resumed its position, as he let out a heavy exhale. Taking a chance, I stopped thinking about what I was doing, and cupped his cheek with my hand. His eyes looked up, making contact with mine, before moving his hand to cover mine. “Is anything wrong?”

“I’m sorry we’re going to have to cut our tour short. Ovie got smashed early, and I have to go control him. I’ll try to talk to you soon, so make it home safely.”

And within moments, he was gone.

~

/*Back in English!*/
/*Italics are the other end of the phone call*/

Waiting for the dial tone to be cut off and the person to answer. "Hello?"

"..the fuck, man! Hello?" I grinned, listening to David yell at his teammate, before speaking up.

"Lucic?" Dropping to a more serious tone, I continued with what I had to say. "Is this a bad time?"

"Yeah... no, actually, what's up Anna?" There was silence in the background of the call on his end, as I reached into the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice. Setting it on the counter, I continued to filter through what I would need to make the stir-fry. I was such a fatass.

"I was just calling to check up on everyone there, and how your series with Philadelphia is going."

“It’s going more than fine! Got one more game to play before we cut the Flyers completely from the Finals. Be more then great, enact our revenge finally. As for everyone doing up here? Eh, we’ve had better chemistry on the team.”

I frowned, listening to him talk about the declining team chemistry. Pouring the sauce mixture and orange juice into the pan with the chicken, I rested the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could use both hands. "SHE DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THIS ISSUE!"

Cringing through Roxanne's screams, I cleared my throught. "What issues, David?"

“Nice one Roxy, she heard that so I guess I might as well say it. Well, a certain forward of ours has recently been notified about a condition that renders her ability to play but she’s refusing to allow it to stop her and the goalie she has eloped with and quite upset with this irrational decision and now he’s not talking with her and she’s all upset and raging on hormones and we have to deal with it.”

The spoon I was licking from the pan, as it simmered, fell to the ground with a cling, splattering everywhere. "E-eloped? She's pregnant?"

“Yup! Roxanne’s pregnant with a Finnish baby.”

“DAVID KREJCI! DON’T SPREAD THAT AROUND!”

Bending down to pick up the spoon, I tossed it into the sink. "Don't spread it around? Is it not Tuukka's?"

“No, no, no, it is! It is Tuukka’s, she just doesn’t want so many people finding out and getting the media to catch wind of it an-“ Krejci was cut off for a moment, before someone else began talking.

“Basically Anna, I want to continue playing but if the media caught wind of this…holy shit explosion of controversy!”

Pouring my forgotten dinner into the tupperware container, I set it in the fridge. "Forget the media, McGregor. What about your body? Any damage at any stage is fatal. Who cares who knows? You need to protect yourself and the baby Rask inside of you."

“But it’s so damn early and I’ve been careful and double padded myself…I’M IN THE STANELY CUP FINALS FOR GOD’S SAKE!” She paused for a second, before sighing. “I’m sorry for that outburst.”

"Is that cup worth a life?" She was frustrated, and there was no doubt that he didn't know what she was getting herself into. It was a long road, and no moment of glory was worth the pain, mentally and physically, of a miscarriage.

“I…I…I don’t know…I don’t know Anna. I’m living my dead father’s dream right now but I’m pregnant with the kid of a man I love who isn’t talking to me now and just…ugg I don’t know what to do or think! I can’t think straight!”

"Let me call you back." Hanging up the connection without hearing her response, I dialed a number I knew by heart, waiting for the godforsaken Finn to pick up his phone.

“Hello?”

"The fuck is wrong with you, Tuukka Rask? If that child is yours, you will support her, and you will take care of that child. If she chooses to play, you will make sure she is safe. The moment that you are out of playoffs, should that happen, I will kill you if you do not take care of her. That woman I just talked to loves you, cares about you, and wants a future with you, and here you are, cutting her out. Man up, or I will drop what I am doing, I will not play tomorrow, and I will come to Boston to rip you a new one personally."

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up. What is going on? How do you know? Of course I’m going to be taking care of her! I’m trying to but she’s being stubborn!”

"NO, YOU ARE BEING STUBBORN, YOU JACKASS. I WANT YOU TO WALK INTO WHEREVER YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS, SWEEP HER OFF OF HER FEET, KISS HER, AND SUPPORT HER." Breathing heavily, I set the pan into the sink, before swiping the orange juice container and taking a gulp, or eight, from it. "I called David, and things just went from there. Calling her stubborn is stressful for her. Tuukka, it may not be right, but there's only a bit left. Nothing bad can happen between now and then, alright? Just keep an eye on her."

I looked to the orange juice container in my hand. "Make sure she drinks a lot of orange juice"

“I…I…bleh…ble…fuuuuuuuuck. Fuck Anna, how do you manage to just take someone’s point of view and twist it to see the truth? Now I have no idea what the hell to think or do right now and what does orange juice have to do with my pregnant girlfriend!?”

"Suck it up, Rask. I told you to go to her, sweep her off her feet, and kiss her until no tomorrow. If i don't get confirmation of this, or a picture, from David, then I will come to Boston. Orange juice has Vitamin C, folic acid, and calcium, which will keep her and the baby healthy. It's also really good." I could feel the pounding in my head from my emotions being a rollercoaster, with both the series against Washington, and this new issue.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay! I’ll go to her and sweep her off her feet! I guess I’m not being rational either. She’s not being rational and I’m not either…but it’s a crazy emotional time now.” He breathed out heavily, as I tried to think about the anxiety bursting inside of him. “In all honesty, I’m scared shitless.”

"OF COURSE SHE'S NOT RATIONAL, SHE'S PREGNANT. Pull your head out of your ass, Tuukka. Please." He sighed loudly through the phone, earning a touch of sympathy from me. "It will be alright, okay? So it's a change, and it's a little early in the ballgame, but that's alright. It wouldn't have happened if the two of you couldn't handle it. Have a little faith, Tuukka. Have a little faith."

“You’re right Anna, you’re right, you’re right, you’re right. Alright, I’ll go find Roxy and make up to her. I’ll watch out for her too. You won’t need to worry anymore.”

"I doubt that, Rask. If I find out my friend isn't taking care of his pregnant girlfriend, we obviously have a problem. Don't think I won't be keeping an eye out myself. And Tuukka?"

“Yeah Anna?”

"I know I'm right."

“Fine, you’re right! I’m an asshole! I get it!”

"Now that we're all on the same page, I will be awaiting that picture. Good luck against Philadelphia."

“Thanks Anna, we’ve got one more game against them. And you will get that picture.”

"Hopefully your team will bring it to a close. I wish I could say the same, but I hate the idea of going to another Game 7."

“Me too, enact some revenge. By the way, speaking of your series, what’s been going on with you and that Semin guy?”

"They say it's sweet." Pausing, I closed my eyes at the mention of the man I was trying to not think about. "What are you talking about? Nothing's going on."

“I don’t know Anna, the way he’s acting towards you, coming over to make sure you’re alright and shit…kind of reminds me of my behavior to Roxy before I started to date her.”

"I'm not dating him, I'm not going to date him, and any other questions, the answer is either yes or no. It's not a big deal, he just felt bad." I bit my lip, unable to hide the smile on my face. So I kind of liked him, but it was only because I was around him so much. It was a simple crush, and it would pass. The thought of him liking me back...

It was just impossible.

He laughed through his side of the phone call. “Denial, that’s where it all begins.”

"It's not denial. I don't like him, alright? i talked to him myself, and he told me he only felt guilty, so it doesn't matter. Whenever I've gotten involved with someone, it doesn't last, so why would I try now? I'm nearly 25, so it's stupid to try now." Chugging the rest of the orange juice carton, I threw it towards the trashcan, drastically missing in my anger and frustration." Even if I did, and I'm not saying I do, it's not worth it."

“Come on Anna, it’s never too late. I’m a year behind you. Just a year and I got involved with someone. Took me awhile to finally find one that last but hey, found one nonetheless. Why should yours be any different?”

"First of all, I'm not you. Second of all, I'm pretty freaking social awkward. Third, he's not even interested in me. Look, I can't date him anyways. He's Russian, I'm not. I'm partially Italian, he's not. My family will not approve, regardless if his does or not. It's a cultural thing."

“I’m Finnish and Roxy is not but that didn’t stop me. Sorry to bring it up Anna, but you’ve been helping me and Roxy be happy…I just want to try and return the favor and see you be happy again.”

"What makes you think I've ever been happy? What makes you think I'm not happy? I appreciate it, I really do, but I don't care anymore." I frowned at his words, especially of his use of ‘again’. At this point, it wasn't even denial. I honestly didn't want to care, for it to fall apart. "Please just drop it. The problem here is your girlfriend and her career, for now. Not my nonexistent love life.”

“Subject dropping…but in all honesty, if this guy doesn’t give up on you why not give him a chance?” Tuukka then quickly changed the subject. “Subject dropped now. For good. I will go find Roxy now and sweep her off her feet and then start trying to come up with names cause I’m pretty sure that’s the first thing she’s going to say once we make up.”

"Then I'll make him give up, because I assure you, i'm not someone he wants." I gave up, and made my way to the freezer, ripping the door open and grabbing the carton of ice cream. Rubbing away the tears that were starting to form, I sniffed. "Don't pick a ridiculous name, Tuuk. Oh, and you can have sex for up to six months after the conception, so I'd make use of that while you can."

He roared out with laughter at my statement, still chuckling for several moments after. “Thanks for that tidbit, I’ll get on with live easier knowing that.”

"Most do. I'm hanging up now. Go make up with her, or I will book that plane ticket now."

“On it! Krejci will send you the picture. Thanks again Anna and good luck with Washington.”

"Good luck with Roxy."

“Thanks. Good-bye, Anna.”

~

I could barely hold my eyes open, my eyelids felt so heavy. I couldn’t even remember how long I spent lying awake once our plane got back from DC. Barely making it to the plane myself, I was extremely thankful no one bothered me about the whole locker room incident.

Finishing the tape on my socks, I stood up in my skates, reaching behind me for my jersey. We would have to be on the ice in 5 minutes for warm-ups, giving us a few minutes to get the nerves worked out. Tossing the hanger into the bin, I pulled the fabric over my head, sticking my hands through the sleeves to the other end.

Opening my eyes, I looked down. If we lost tonight, we’d go back to Washington. If we lost there, tonight would be the last time we would play at home this season. It was hard to grasp. “Come on, boys. Let’s get out there, warm your hands, and wrap this series up. ”

Simon and Pavel were both next to Boucher, as we headed into the hallway, lining up. “Anna, you go first.”

I looked back to Vincent, startled at his words, before nodding quickly. Stepping in front of him, he held the others back some to allow me to step into my new place in line. I heard a few snickers behind me, which probably came from Ryan and Steven, but shrugged it off. Most everyone, even Boucher, had been laughing randomly for the past hour, and it didn’t even begin to cease.

Pushing past the door, I stepped through the opening to the bench, before pressing off onto the ice. Skating through center ice, I turned to circle around our side of the ice, before tensing up. Those evil sons of bitches would do something like this. Coming up behind the net, I crossed in front of the bench, blushing furiously as the rest of my team was rolling with laughter at their ‘prank’ of letting me skate by myself.

I noticed the white jerseys grouping around the center of the ice, several of them, including Ovechkin and Harper, with grins plastered on their faces. Of course they’d find this whole situation funny. Turning my back to them, I cut in front of the net, waiting for the rest of them to get onto the ice, before roaring laughter could be heard from the Capitals.

That’s why they wanted me to go first. Vincent stepped off, followed by everyone else as pucks were tossed onto the ice.

~

“Fuck off, Malone. It was a stupid little prank. Haha.” Gripping my stick right ways, I slapped the blade into Ryan’s thigh. Shoving him off, I leaned against my stick, ready to just get the game over with.

“Anna, you’ve got to tell me these things!” Hearing Erika’s voice, I turned my back to our side of the ice, already guessing that she was going to say.

“Have at it, Erika, but I already know about their whole “Let Anna out by herself” shit. Thanks though.” Offering up a smile, I couldn’t help but notice Ovechkin messing around with Alex, who looked far from pleased at whatever his friend was saying to him.

She followed my gaze, before turning back to me. “Did… you check the name on the back of your jersey before you put it on?”

“Of course I did!” I snapped, the fatigue obviously setting in. Rubbing my forehead, I sighed. “Sorry, I’m just a little worn. I always check my jersey. It reads ‘Trovato’. Same as every other night. Let me guess. Simon put his jersey in my place to be funny, right?”

“Let me guess. Simon put his jersey in my place to be funny, right?” Tugging at my sleeves, I saw the number ‘57’ boldly emblazoned on them, before looking back towards her. “See? “Same jersey I always wear.”

Erika bit her lip, before denying my words, a smile on her face. “Alright, think about this. Your teammates are devious. If they altered it, wouldn’t they make you think it’s the same jersey as always? I know you’ve noticed their snickers.”

“You give them too much credit. They wouldn’t do anything bad.” I bit my tongue for a second, thinking about what she said. “Even Boucher’s been laughing like a madman recently. Something’s seriously up with them.”

“If there’s something I’ve learned in my time in the NHL, it’s NEVER underestimate your teammates when it comes to pranks. EVER. Because they’ll catch you when you least expect it. Basically, what I’m trying to say is..” It looked as if she was having a mental argument with herself. Within seconds, Alex skated up between mydelf and Erika, more than likely espacing whatever Ovechkin was harassing him for. With a dark look on his face, Erika tapped his arm. “Sasha, I can’t do this,. Tell your wife what’s going on!”

I froze at her words, feeling my face blush a thousand shades of red, as I gazed helplessly at her, avoiding Alex altogether. “W-What?”

“Go on!” She pressed, both of our faces red beyond any Caps home jersey.

“The back of your jersey… has my name on it.” I couldn’t believe what he just mumbled. Praying to whatever force was out there that I had hearing problems, I reached my hand out, snagging both of their jersey sleeves. Dragging the pair to the glass, I stood there where was a reflection of my jersey.

"Please tell me that I've gone blind.." Without releasing Alex's sleeve, I turned to see the name that was fully stitched onto the back, as if it belonged there. Glancing down to the ice, the blood began rushing to my face again, before mumbling the inevitable. "They could have at least spelled it right."

“Is that really your main concern?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Dropping Semin’s sleeve, I turned back to Erika, trying to cool my face down. This was definitely more than I could probably handle. "Much too soon, Harper. Much too soon. Besides, I haven't even met his parents yet."

“I like your attitude Trovato. But if you ever need me to whip up on one of these guys, just call. I’d love to prank them.” She let out a smirk, as I shrugged, offering up a small smile. Turning to Semin, she voiced what was on her mind. “But what does she mean by spelled it right?”

I could have slapped myself in the face. I had only dug myself deeper into a hole I couldn’t climb out of. “In Russia, an A is added to end of name to make it feminine. It would be Semina.”

Turning on the edge of my skate, I quickly made my leave as fast as possible. My head felt like it was going to explode with the emotions running through it. “So much for those ideas.”

“What ideas?” Rubbing my forehead, I couldn’t help but groan. I was never going to be able to live this down. At least, for a while. Oh God, I didn’t even want to go near my team for a month or eight.

“Oh come on, Ovechkin. Leave me alone.”

“Are you dreaming about little Sasha?” I slapped my hand over his mouth, so neither his Captain or the man in question would hear the Russian’s assumptions. I could still feel the warmth in my cheeks, which wasn’t helping the fact that I knew hundreds of people could see my teammates’ work.

“Shut your fucking trap! Of course not!”

~

I shuffled back and forth in my spot, listening to the flashing red light that resonated around the Forum, indicating my second goal for the night. Resting my hands against my knees, I inhaled and held for a moment, before righting myself and heading towards the bench. Steven skated next to me, having helped with the goal, a huge grin plastered on his face as we climbed through the boards. Ripping my helmet off, I tossed it to the ground before grasping the water bottle.

“Very productive first period. We have a one goal lead, which is how we want to keep it. Anna, Steven great job with the goals. Everyone else, keep it up. So far, you’ve all performed well up to this point, so don’t let them grab the upper hand that they are capable of.”

Replaying Boucher’s speech in my head, I tried forgetting everything else that was on my mind. Ryan planted himself next to Steven, shoving him into me. “Great goal there, Mrs. Semin.” I took another gulp, completely ignoring my teammates. I hadn’t spoken a word to any of them, unless I absolutely had to, including the occasional ‘Fuck you.’

~

4-2. We had this game by 2 points, with the second period nearly over. There were 4 minutes remaining on the clock, before we’d head back into the locker room for another speech from Boucher. Of course, the first period break was spent with him laughing at me, along with Simon taking part. Son of a bitch was the one responsible with it all.

Sitting on the boards next to Ryan, we watched the ref talk through the glass, discussing the call on whether Roli was knocking the net out on purpose, or not. The referee finally backed up to center, before turning. “No interference penalty will be called. Accidental removal of the net.”

Sighing in relief, we hopped onto the ice, Steven following soon, we lined up for the faceoff. The ref skated up, and dropped the puck. Within milliseconds, the whistle sounded, and he sent Stamkos out of the circle. Groaning, we switched, and I was paired up against Brooks Laich. Notching my skates into the hashmarks, I rested my stick against the ice, him doing the same. The man held the puck out, but the whistle was called again.

“Ебать меня.” Sighing, I straightened up, avoiding the winger I was so happy to not be up against when we first stepped on the ice for the faceoff. The ref began to write something in the notebook he kept in his pocket, as I chanced looking at Alex.

His eyes met mine, before offering a small smile. He tapped my side with his stick, before getting lined up for the face-off, the ref ready to go. I felt my abdomen go crazy again, as if they were being attacked by nerves. Breathing in and then out, I tried relaxing, the tinge out of my face hopefully disappearing as I faced him.

The puck was dropped, and I knocked it back to Victor who immediately took it behind the net. Bergeron pulled up close to the center, as Steven kept on the wing. Noticing he wouldn’t change with me, I skated past Semin and Laich, who were both tailing Ryan. Victor knocked it through to Ryan, as Laich charged him, Hendricks coming up to overtake Ryan with Semin. Snatching the puck, faking through Alex’s legs, he slammed it over to Steven, who caught it with ease.

Grinning, I watched Hannan move closer to my area, maybe two or three yards in front of the net, before rushing at him. “Stamkos!”

He whipped his head around, before sliding the puck through Hannan’s own legs this time. Mentally freaking out for a moment, inhaling, I could feel the traction against my skate as the rubber slid closer, Hannan trying to find the puck amoungst his and Steven’s flailing limbs. Pulling back, I saw Neuvirth prepping to go butterfly, before releasing once the puck came close. It sailed into his five-hole, and an extremely loud crack could be heard. Cringing as the crack, and then siren came on, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell happened. I felt Steven slam into me, his arm wrapping around me in a hug, as I pulled him closer to see what had happened.

Neuvirth had moved out of the way, the referee also coming over to take a look at the damage. Ryan joined us momentarily, before bursting out in laugher. The lens of the camera was broken, with the puck lodged inside of it, sticking out about halfway.

~

Attempting to calm my nerves, I was amazed that I had made it through the visitor’s hall to the locker room, the double doors standing between me and the Capitals. Huffing, I pushed the door open, extremely thankful most everyone had already showered. Looking around, I noticed Erika standing in her stall, facing the wall. Looking around, it didn’t look like anyone noticed me, giving me the okay to get closer.

Closing the distance, I reached out and tapped her shoulder lightly.

Erika spun around, before beginning to talk in a cautious tone. “Oh, Miss Trovato! Wasn’t expecting to see you here. What can I do for you?” I asked lightly.

I raised an eyebrow at her formalities, before dropping the subject. Looking around to see if anyone noticed me yet, I looked back towards her. “Is Alex still in the shower?”

A smirk grew on her features, as she thought for a moment. “He is. But fair warning, Ovechkin is in there, and I think Knubs has yet to come out. So if you’re gonna go in, be sneaky about it. I hope you’re not a screamer.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the heat in my body inflame my cheeks. Bringing my hands up to my cheeks, I rubbed them incesantantly. If someone had seen me for the first time tonight, they would have thought I was half-strawberry, with how often I was being embarrassed. Trying not to think about what her words were implying, I was mentally half-begging someone to drench me in ice-cold water.

She let out laughter, before calming herself. “I’m only kidding with you. Yeah, he is still in the shower though. Do you have to talk to him or something?”

"I'm tired of being the only one embarrassed tonight." I muttered, trying to calm down some. Dear God, I hope I wasn't that loud. Moving my stance from the right to my left, it was hard to keep eye contact with the not-so-subtle captain.

“That’s understandable. You know, a person is pretty vulnerable in the shower... and there is no one in the bathroom... and if anyone asks, I didn’t see anything.” She sounded as if she was hinting something that was quite dastardly, if I may say so myself.

My lips pulled into a smile, as I thought about what she said. "It could work, though I would feel sorry for your other teammates. Do you think they would be terribly upset?"

Erika looked behind me, just as the two she talked about walked in. Her expression grew, as life was setting itself up perfectly. “You know, I think they’d be fine with it.”

Upon seeing the newcomers for a moment, I looked back to her. "Fantastic. Give me a moment?"

“You’ve got all the time in the world.”

Nodding to her, I turned around to see Ovechkin standing in his stall next to us, a devilish smirk plasted on the Russian's face. Ignoring him, I slipped past and into the shower area.

~

The humidity of the scalding shower water hit my uncovered legs, making me glad I had worn shorts, rather than my pants The cool water still my hair from my own shower, kept me somewhat cooler, even when it dripped onto my shirt. Stepping further into the room, between the stalls, I began searching for the man in question.

On the opposite wall of showers, to my left, was my target, per se. Slinking down to my hands and knees, in case he turned around, I started to crawl closer.

”A person is pretty vulnerable in the shower.”

I shook my head from Erika’s words, and despite the context she used them in, plus her earlier comment, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive to those words. Reaching his shower stall, I shivered, her words pounding into my head.

”I hope you’re not a screamer.”

There really was no one around. No one would hear. Breathing, I snatched the white towel he put in the crevice for when he got out, as the shiver returned. I definitely needed to contain my thoughts about the situation I was threatening to put myself in, and Harper’s words. Again.

Turning around on my knees, keeping the towel in my hand, I reached forward to begin again, before slipping on the water there. Freezing, he didn’t say anything, or didn’t acknowledge my presence, allowing me to crawl out of the room.

Standing back up, I smirked at the towel in my hand, before turning into the bathroom. Standing in front of the eight commodes, I pressed the levels as fast as I could, before slipping back into the locker room. Stepping past Ovechkin, my eyes met Erika’s, and I offered her a quick wink. Before sliding into Alex’s stall between her’s and Ovechkin’s, I crossed one leg over the other, waiting for the inevitable.

“WHO THE FUCK FUCKED WITH ALL OF THE HOT WATER? WHERE IS MY DAMNED TOWEL? OVECHKIN, I NEED A TOWEL. WHO WAS THE SMARTASS WHO CAME IN HERE? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”

I couldn’t help but giggle quite visibly, at the angry entourage of Russian being spewed from where a nude Alexander Semin was shouting from the shower area.

Ovechkin took off into the direction of Semin with a towel, leaving Erika, myself, and the rest of the locker room in either a fit of confusion or laughter. “THIS IS GOLD!”

My giggling died a little bit, as a few of the Caps noticed me in the locker room at this point. Who knew what they were thinking, but I was too hyped up to care. Ovechkin came back in within seconds, his face covered in a gleeful smirk, before a dripping wet Sasha Semin stormed in behind him.

I had to bite my lip harder to not tense up at the sight in front of me, as Erika shared a few smart-alecky words with him. How To Completely Defabricate Anna’s Mind, by Anna Trovato.

Step 1 is to place her in the presence of Alexander Semin. Step 2 says that this works better when he’s not clothed, has messy hair, is wet, and hopefully angry. Step 3 further states that Anna’s mind is probably considering taking him back into the showers and discarding that ridiculously irritating towel. Step 4 is Anna’s request to slap some sense into her.

He sent a glare towards Erika, before turning his attention to me, which practically melted my mind to mush. I had been fidgeting with the towel in my nervousness, twisting it up as he stepped closer, smirk set on his face. My lips parted unconsciously, as I tried to make my actions not so obvious. I kept still, my left leg still crossed over the right. He reached out, his fingers tracing the scar along my thigh for several seconds. “Anna..”

I shuddered and closed my eyes, from both the way he said my name, and the touch of his hands on my skin. We were in front of too many people for this, it couldn’t do on. Snapping my eyes open, I stood up, dropping the towel on his stall. He was too close for comfort, his hand sliding to my hip, his body close enough to wear I could feel the water droplets on his bare upper half.

I looked up at him, completely forgetting there were other people in the room with us. Glancing down for a moment to his lips and back, under his watch, I couldn’t think. No thoughts were making sense, besides the one my brain was screaming, for me to get out of there. I just couldn’t.

The need to feel him against me was intense, which was the thought that struck some intelligence into me. Slipping around him, I felt his hand slide off of my side, as I practically ran out of the locker room. I couldn’t do this. He didn’t like me that way.