Courageous

The rest of the week was fairly busy with only a single break in between four games and tensions would only increase as the temperature outside dropped for the upcoming matchup against the Flyers before Christmas. A game that would provide 2 key points in the Eastern Conference standings for who ever won. Coach had been adamant up until today that we needed to focus on each game and not over look anyone, but now it was all Flyers and they were coming to our house. To say that I was pumped up for round two of the Rangers/Flyers series was an understatement. Suddenly, it was like I was still playing for Boston College and we were getting ready to play Boston University. Yeah, that was just how intense it was going to be.

A car horn honk alerted me that my ride was waiting on me as I stepped out of my apartment building. Walking over to the black Maserati, fumbling my mug of coffee to my other hand as I opened the door. I offered Hank a smile as I slid in and shut the door before he pulled away from the curve. Nothing was said was we enjoyed Hank's pregame music of choice, The Foo Fighters. At the moment, there wasn't any need to say anything; we only needed to focus on the impending game ahead. Although, the decision I had made still played at the back of my mind. It had taken me longer than expected, but I had decided that maybe it would be more beneficial for my health if...

"Mickie, about after Brad's party-" Hank began, but I cut him off before he could finish.

"You don't have to be sorry... I was or am still a little confused." I admitted, glancing down at my home screen, the picture of James and I still hadn't been replaced.

"No, it was my mistake. I had forgotten that you're not a available as I want you to be." He insisted, his eyes locking with mine for a brief moment before he turned his focus back on the road. A blush rose on my cheeks as I listened to his words of confirmation that he was beginning to or did feel the same way I felt about him. I couldn't tell which one it was at the moment, but I was sure that at some point I would be able to deny him if was still with James or not.

"So I take that things haven't been working out with-" Hank cut me off before I could mention his wife's name,

"Well, in a way they are working out. Her lawyer informed me that she didn't want any of my money or things except what belonged to her."

This was news to me, I don't think that anyone thought that they would fall apart that fast. For them, to already be discussing who got what meant that this separation they were going through wasn't just a temporary phase. Tugging at my braid, I realized how hard this must be for him to talk about,

"So are you going to get a divorce? Or what?" I knew his answer would help me finalize my decision, which was making it easier for me because I hadn't spoken to James in almost a week. I understood there was a possibility he would be too busy to call me, but it wouldn't have been that hard to send me a text and thus like Therese, I was beginning to doubt the man who was supposed to be with me. Turning my attention back to the man, who was seated in the car next to me, I waited for his answer,

"Filing for divorce seems to be the only solution at the moment and she agrees with me. In fact, she suggested it."

My heart went out to him; it must be world shattering for him to deal with. Realizing this, I knew it was my turn to be his shoulder to lean on. To offer him some consolation, I decided to reveal to him my worries about James as we pulled into the parking lot,

"I haven't talked to James since before we went on the road trip to St. Louis. He hasn't contacted me at all... Something just doesn't feel right."

Hank gave me a long, searching look after he parked his car. For a few moments, he didn't say anything as neither of us moved to get out of the car. After an achingly slow moment or two, he nodded his head before asking,

"Have you texted him, recently?" I nodded. "Has he texted you back?" I shook my head as I watched his eye soften, "Mickie, if you ever need anything. I will be here for you. Anything."

I smiled at him, softly before I gave him the same promise, "Same here, I'm just a text or a phone call away. Whenever, whatever, I'll be there."

Maybe we were committing ourselves to too much, but maybe we weren't. Maybe we needed each other to get through this. Maybe... I stopped thinking as I found myself leaning closer and closer to him, and he the same until our noses brushed and our lips finally connected in a mind-blowing kiss. This kiss was different than the kiss we had shared in Buffalo, sure there was still a hint of lust, but this kiss was slow, careful, and tender. It was the kind of kiss that every woman wants to experience. If I lived to never be kissed again, I would die a full filled person and any kiss that I had shared with James, suddenly paled in comparison. Out of breath, we pulled apart, both of us thinking the same thing.

What now?

Before anything could be said, my eyes caught sight of the coral colored lipstick that was smeared on Hank's lips. Giggling, I pulled my monogrammed handkerchief and a my hand sized mirror to show him why I was so amused,

"Hank, I'm sorry to say this but coral just isn't your color."

Upon seeing his current appearance, Hank chuckled in agreement, "Mickayla, I'll have to agree with you on this one. Coral definitely isn't my color... It looks much better on you."

Blushing, I gave the Swede a shove knowing he could take before I unbuckled my seat and slipped out of the car. A childish smile spread on my lips as I heard the other door open, the shut, and then lock as Hank followed after me. I wasn't exactly sure where it would lead so I ran towards Brian Boyle, who had gotten out of his car at the same time as me.

"Boyle! Save me, I have awoken a sleeping giant." But alas, I was too late to be rescued as I was scooped up in Hank's strong arms and thrown over his shoulder. Honestly, I didn't really want to be. It was just too much fun not to play hard to get,

"Hank! Put me down."

"I'm sorry did you say something?" Hank chuckled, shifting my body weight so it balanced better on his shoulder.

Shaking my head at him, I looked, pleadingly back at Brian for rescue but he just smiled and waved at me. Pouting, I situated myself by digging my elbow into Hank's back and resting my in my hand. Now, I know how Fiona felt when Shrek threw her over his shoulder, typical Taming of the Shrew stuff right here. Hank acted like everything was completely normal as we entered the building. However, I grimaced or waved as we passed by some of our teammates, who were bemused by my current situation. I was thankful when he sat me down on my feet before he turned down the tunnel to go to the dressing room. I chose not to say anything to him and continued into the dressing room to prepare for tonight's big game. I'd need to put some extra preparation into so that I'd be on top of my game because everyone knew it was gonna get nasty, quick.

After changing into my under armor, I headed back out to the hallway to stretch out to my pregame playlist. Once I was settled into my routine, I was unaware of a pair of enemy eyes watching me from afar until the sly forward from LeMoyne, Quebec stepped out from the shadows. Startled by the appearance of the Flyer, I moved to head back to the dressing room, not wanting to start a fight before the puck was set to drop, but the Frenchie stopped,

"Wait, please, I need to warn you about somet'ing."

Whirling around frustration fizzled; I had no time for games. He was just trying to mess with my head. I leveled my glare to match his cautious, searching stare, "What do ya want, Talbot? You're infringing upon my warm up time."

"I came to warn you about James-" The moment my penguin's name feel from the Flyer's mouth, I snapped, "What do you know about him, you stupid Flyer?"

Talbot made an 'tsking' sound as he shook his head at me, his hands braced on his hips, "You forget I was a Penguin for six years. I played with James for a s'ort time last season and I know 'is ways."

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do with me?" I snarled at him, but still held my ground as he took a step closer to me. At that moment, there was nothing more that I wanted to than to rip that smug smile off his fucking face.

"James is shy, non?" I shrugged and was about to speak, but Talbot held is hand up to stall my words, "Tis just a ploy to lure you in. I'm sure you've 'eard of guys in tis league w'o 'ave a girl at every stop?"

"Yeah, guys like you." I spat at him, folding my arms across my chest in a defensive manner when he began to circle me like a shark just waiting to attack me. Turning to face, Talbot pretended to be hurt by my words,

"O, you cut me deep, but I can see t'at you don't want to 'ear w'at I 'ave to say-" Reaching out, I grasped the sleeve of his blazer as he turned to walk away and pulled him back to face me, staring him down, I couldn't help but smirk at the fear in his eyes,

"No! You're not goin' anywhere. You've come all this way to tell me somethin' and yer gonna tell me!"

Talbot flinched, visibly at my ire before he spoke, "Oui, mademoiselle, w'at it is t'at I came to tell you is that I over 'eard James discussing 'is plans for the evening with Staal and TK and w'at I 'eard wasn't very nice."

By this point, my patience had reached it's limits and my temper began boil at the way he had chosen to beat around the bush, "For the love of God, just tell me so I can get on with my pregame routine!"

"Pushy, aren't we, non? Well, since you insist, I promise it's not goin' to be w'at you want to 'ear, but w'at I 'eard is t'at, James and the ot'er two are seein' 'ow many girls they can get t'is season and 'e plans on usin' you w'en 'e come comes up 'ere."

His words numbed me and I began to shake as I let them sink in. Releasing the man from my grip, I let my hands and gaze drop in shame. They shouldn't have had this effect on me, how did I know if he wasn't lying? Playing mind games with me before a big game, so that my head wouldn't be in the game. After all, the best way to defeat an opponent is to get inside their head and yet, for some reason I could tell that he wasn't lying. The sincere ness in his eyes coupled with the sorrowful look on his face told me that he wasn't a liar. If what he said was true, I couldn't help but wonder if this was James' way of getting back at me for what happened in Buffalo? Even if I had told him that it was an accident, was he punishing me for not being faithful to him? If that was the case, was it even worth it to be with him anymore? Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked back up at the Francophone, my mouth, quivering as I forced myself to speak, “Why- why did you tell me this? Why do you care? What good does this do for you?"

"Cherie, t'ere are few men in t'is league w'o care enouff to even give it a second t'oug't. Most would prefer to see you fall. You invaded de league and t'reaten what t'ey know. 'Owever, I was raised t'at a woman s'ould never be treated like dirt and t'at's w'at James is doin' to you and I knew, t'at you deserved to know t'is before you fell too deep for 'im." Talbot explained, reaching up to wipe the tears that trailed down my cheeks with his thumbs.

"I am pathetic, aren't I?" I couldn't help but ask him as I pushing his hands away from my face and finished wiping off wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Talbot shook his at my question,

"Non, you only look it at de moment, but I know t'at t'ere is a fig'ter in you and it won't let you not play at yer best. I would be disappointed if I came all t'is way not to see Mickayla 'Ammer in top form tonite."

"Merci, I'm glad that I heard it from you first. I promise, I won't disappoint you tonight." I thanked the friendly Flyer (who knew?) for his desire to not let me be fooled.

"De rien, see you on the ice." He smiled and turned to head back toward the visitors locker room.

I watched him leave for a moment or so, using this time to gather myself up. I'd let my new discovery fuel my game. I'd let it burn so that when I did get the chance to confront James I would have some control of my rage. Once, I had reigned in my emotions, I headed back to the Rangers dressing room with a new fire in my soul and at the moment I wasn't in the mood for any of Brandon's comments.

"Hey, Mickie, where've you been?"

I chose to ignore him and not give him any delight with an answer as I sat down in my cubby. I made no move to acknowledge MDZ or Girardi, who sat on either side of me as I pulled out my tape and began to wrap my stick. They tried to get me to join in with their games, but I only glared at them. Now, was not the time for games. I dared not look at Hank; knowing full well that just one concern look from him would melt my resolve.

Time passed by fast with my brand new focus, before I knew it Coach was finished with his pregame speech and we were lining up to take the ice. Shuddering with anticipation, I stood in line behind Hank as we waited to take the ice. A tap on my shoulder, forced me to look at him,

"Mickayla, what's wrong?"

Shrugging, I informed him, "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then."

"What do you mean?" He asked with a questioning look, probably thinking that it had something to do with him. Placing a hand on his padded chest, I shook my head,

"James is using me... I'll explain later."

Not convinced, Hank was about to force out of me as the announcer came over the intercom,

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Madison Square Garden: The World's most famous arena! It's my honor to present to you, the New York Rangers!!!!!!

With that, Hank led us out onto the ice for pregame warm-ups, skating past him I circled around below the net as the fans cheered, wildly for the team. The electric vibe that I always got when I played here tingled up my spine as I began to shoot pucks at Hank.

All too quickly, the opening faceoff came, I was thankful to be starting tonight after having not started in so long. Taking my position, I watched as Talbot won the faceoff against Boyle and began the Flyers assault. I made sure that I got in a hit on Talbot to prove that I had listened to him. After that he got the puck again, a fired a shot on Hank, who stopped it with ease. A giveaway by Simmonds turned the puck over to Dan, only to taken back by Read. Just over three minutes in came our first penalty by Dubi for tripping Kimmo Timonen. Shorthanded, we managed to win the next faceoff, which led to a successful penalty kill.

After an off sides was called, Girardi and I shifted out for fresher legs. Another penalty came later in the period because Simmonds held Carl Hagelin. From that point on, I knew that things were going to get just as nasty as the last game. It only took longer than expected because on my next shift twenty minutes in, Prust dropped gloves with Bourdon. We played five on five for the remained up the period and neither us or them capitalized on the opportunity.

The second period was pretty back and forth, like most Rangers games were, well that was until Stu Bickel and I connected for my tenth goal of the season, and a tip-in that just managed to slip under the pad of Bryzgalov. As custom, Cally, Dubi, Bickel, Girardi and I celebrated to the team's goal horn before skating back over to the bench. Tides were beginning to turn in our favor dominated the rest of period. Boyle and Sestito tangled up not 2 minutes after my goal and once again we would get to play five on five. Have I ever mention that five on five hockey is my favorite kind on hockey to play, well, besides four on four, because of how much more ice it opens up. More ice equals a faster paced game, a faster paced game means that you can wear down your opponent faster. A tired opposition means that they are more likely to make mistakes; mistakes mean more opportunities for us to score.

Oh, and score is exactly what I did, as Stu Bickel once again found a passing lane to Fedotenko, who fired a shot that was blocked away, so I skated below the blue line to capitalize on the rebound. Was my stick on fire or was it just me? It's me? Yeah, that's what I thought too. Laughing, I held my stick like a guitar then raised my goblet of rock before being smashed back to the boards by my teammates. Cheering fans pounds against the glass at our heads and for once, I looked back at them when I saw two little girls wearing my jersey. Humbled by this, I waved at them before skating back over to rejoin my teammates on the bench.

"Fucking rights, Mickie!" McDonagh cheered as I slide in beside him. The other guys echoed his sentiments as I took a sip of my Gatorade. A pat on my shoulder and the kind words of coach told me I was making an impact,

"Glad to have ya back, kid!” Beaming back at him, I settled into my seat knowing that I wouldn't be back on the ice for the rest of the period.

Back on the ice in the third, my defensive skills dominated the Flyers forwards. My speed and forecheck cutting off their passing lanes had been leaving them with little options. I, even, got down and blocked some shots, something I would only do in a do or die situation. I was playing out of my mind tonight and I was flying, racking up an assist on Gabby's 3rd period goal after coach had spent me back out two team up with my usual partner MDZ.

"Flyers suck!" is the chant heard around the rink and suddenly, I was having flashbacks from last year's season when Capitals fans called out, 'We want Pittsburgh, Crosby sucks!' Yeah, sure, this game didn't have the drama that the PensCaps game did, but we were putting every bit of our hearts and souls into it and that was what made it great. It was then that I knew I was ready to take on the big stage that was the Winter Classic, I was ready to take on whatever the rest of the season would bring.

The final score of the game read 4-2, with the two goals the Flyers scored in the 3rd not being enough to push them past our two-goal lead. They had run out of time and they knew it, as the sting of defeat set in on their faces. We, however, tacked on two more points onto our division lead over them as we saluted the crowd in triumph. Skating back to the tunnel, Michael and I did our handshake being two of the last to go back to the locker rooms. However, I was held back by one of the MSG event coordinators,

"Hammer, you're the game's first star."

Hold the phone! What? There's no way I had better game than Hank, he'd made 28 saves with 30 shots on goal. There's no way that my two goals and an assist beat that. Looking to Hank, he smiled, widely at me as Stu Bickel was announced the game's 3rd star. Hank, then, went out afterwards before I was called out,

"And tonight's first star: MICKAYLA HAMMER!!!!!"

Madison Square Arena roared when my name was announced as I skate victory lap stick still in hand as I saluted the Rangers faithful before skating over to the corner where the two little girls were and tossed my stick up to them. The joy on their faces when they got my stick made my heart melt, it also made me realized something else that I wasn't just playing for myself, I was playing for my fans.

Back in the locker room, no sooner than I had walked, I was hoisted onto of the shoulders of Brian Boyle, who began to sing,

"Here she comes, Miss. Canada!"

Echoes of laughter and pats on the back followed as he carried me over to my stall before setting me down in it. On the other side of the locker room, Dubi stood up with the Broadway hat in hand,

"I think everybody knows who's gonna get this because she fuckin' played out of her mind tonight!"

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the old, sweaty hat to me and I mounted it on my head for the first time. And then the media swarmed in hammering me with questions, no pun intended. A new ease set in as I answered them because from judging their questions that I had just shown the entire hockey world what I was capable of. After that, I followed Hank out to his car, reflecting on what a whirl wind day I had just had and I was sad to see it was about over.

Sliding into the leather front passenger, fatigue began to set in. If there was a game tomorrow, there would've been no way I could've given a repeat performance of tonight. Back with my exhaustion came Max Talbot's words and I knew despite myself, I wouldn’t be getting much sleep once I arrived home. Just as my eyes began to droop, Hank spoke,

"That's best game you've played since your first home game." I nodded, remembering my first NHL goal. "Was it because you were mad?"

"Yeah, probably, I don't like being used or doubted." I shrugged, indifferently, not wanting Hank to see the inner storm of emotions that was beginning to brew within me.

"So how did you find this out?" He inquired, never looking away from the road.

"Maxime Talbot told me." I made it apparent in my voice that I didn't want to talk about it anymore, so Hank changed the subject,

"What are your plans for Christmas?"

Shrugging, I glanced at him, "Amanda and I are gonna go see Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows and probably go to midnight mass, so that I can take communion before New Years."

"Feeling the need to repent?" Hank smirked at him as he pulled up to my building to drop me off.

"Yeah, I could think of a few good reasons to have a confessional with God. Hopefully, I won't be going to hell." I joked with him as I stepped out, "Have a Merry Christmas, Hank."

"You, too." He nodded and then took off after I shut the door. I watched him drive off for a moment or two, before walking back into my building knowing that right now me, myself, and I had a lot of thinking to do.