Status: drip feed updates slower than an IV.

Master of Timing

i miss you.

The weirdness between Lyndsey and her mother carried on for close to another week. Since Lyndsey worked nights and her mother worked days, they only seemed to cross paths every couple of days in the kitchen - Lorraine to get more tea or Lyndsey to get something for dinner. She had taken to eating down in the basement in front of the TV, passing the time on her nights off by re-watching Outlander.

“Are you ever going to sit at this table to eat again?”

Lyndsey paused, the spoon resting on the side of the pot she was using to heat up a can of broccoli cheese soup she’d found in the cupboard. She hadn’t even heard her Mom’s footsteps from the living room, and slowly turned around to see her standing by the fridge, eyes expectant.

She hesitated before her answer of “Am I still welcome?” fell out of her mouth.

Lorraine’s mouth set in a hard line and instantly Lyndsey knew she was in for it. Which was stupid, because she’s a fully grown woman and pays half the mortgage so she doesn’t understand why-

“What kind of question is that? I would like to sit down and have a proper meal with my daughter so we can stop dancing around all this shit that’s gone on for the last two weeks.”

Lyndsey sighed, nodding slightly before she turned back to the soup, not wanting it to burn. A bowl appeared on the bench to her right, just before Lorraine moved to put a cheese bagel in the toaster. It made Lyndsey smile. It was always how they ate on “soup nights”.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” She said quietly. She knew that she couldn’t put all of what she was sorry for into words, but she knew it needed to be said. They were both right. And both wrong. It was hard to find middle ground when the only person in between was in another country.

There was a few moments when they both stood still, but eventually Lyndsey felt her Mom’s arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, too.”

The toaster popped, making them both jump. Lyndsey looked up and they both broke into giggles, moving around each other. Lorraine took left overs out of the fridge and placed them in the microwave, while Lyndsey moved her dinner into the dining room, taking her place on the right side of the head of the table. Where she’d always sat.

“How was work last night?”

It was as good of an icebreaker as any and one that Lyndsey was taking for granted. She was going to relish in how nice it felt just to talk to her Mom again before getting all heavy with the serious stuff.

And it’s not like she didn’t have anything to talk about.

Even though she had only worked three nights, there was more drama than what usually occurred in a week. While she tried to parse through the information, leaving out the boring bits and recalling the interesting stories, she got confused half way trying to remember what night was actually which - and which patient had driven her batshit crazy on what particular day.

Once a month, a local promoter puts on the worst display of stupidity to mankind Lyndsey had ever heard of, a indoor beach party and the West Edmonton mall that invites everyone in the dead middle of winter to go and party in their bikini’s and have a good time. Everyone at the ER translates it to ‘Rave Night’ and each of them dread it. They’ll see more overdoses that night than any other night during the month.

Plus the cases of hyperthermia go through the roof, and hospitals are already cold enough without subtracting your clothes then adding water and drugs.

It would probably strike some as strange to talk about death at the dinner table, but that’s what Lyndsey dealt with on a weekly basis. And Lorraine was used to hearing it by now, that they both just carried on eating their dinner as if they were just talking about the weather.

“I don’t know why the hell the mall lets it keep happening.”

Lyndsey sighed, breaking off some of her bagel. “It’s the most ridiculous waste of everybody’s time.”

“Don’t they check bags or something?”

“I highly doubt it, with the condition of people we eventually see.”

The TV was still on in the background of the living room. Whatever Lorraine was watching before dinner had finished, the sounds of TSN flowing through the room. Lyndsey paused at the words ‘Hockey Night in Canada’, glancing out of the corner of her eye to see her Mom taking a sip of water, eyes trained on her daughter.

If it were a movie, it’d be right about now that the crickets would be chirping.

“So,” Lorraine cleared her throat, putting down her glass and pushing her plate away from her. Lyndsey put her spoon down as well, watching as it sat in the last few tablespoons on liquid left in the bowl. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or not?”

It wasn’t exactly the way she imagined the conversation going, but if her Mom wanted to broach the subject first, she was up for it.

As long as she didn’t have to say much.

“I guess we should,” She answered hesitantly, fiddling with her napkin. She felt all of twelve years old. Which was stupid.

“I just…” The both of them looked each other in the eye. “Lyndsey, I have no idea where to start.”

She nodded, shrugging her shoulders a little. “I know. You… Okay, so leaving in secret and everything wasn’t the smartest idea but- there’s nothing to worry about, Mom. Really.”

Lorraine pursed her lips, folding her arms in front of her on the table. Classic ‘now you’re going to listen here, young lady’ pose. Lyndsey gulped.

“I don’t care how old you are, what you do at work, or with your friends - because I know you’re a smart, capable person. But to find out that you took off to another country and lying to me about it?” She huffed, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses.

“He’s a normal person, Mom-“

“I don’t give a shit if you were flying to meet the President!” Lorraine interrupted, taking her glasses off. “It’s something you should’ve told me.”

Lyndsey really didn’t want to make her Mom even madder, so she stayed quiet. Realistically, she knew Lorraine was right. It was stupid of her to lie about where she was going - something could’ve happened to her plane, or she could’ve gotten lost or something happening to Sidney and he might not’ve been able to meet her like he said he could. She was smarter than that.

And to rope Jackie and Koby into it without them knowing; she was a shit person sometimes.

“I know.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, her hands folded in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

Her Mom didn’t say anything for a minute. She was so quiet, Lyndsey almost couldn’t hear her breathing. It made her cautious, since Lorraine was obviously mad. And not the type of person to stay quiet while she was angry. Lyndsey watched as she reached a hand over, leaving it open on the table for her daughter to hold onto. It was only once she did that Lyndsey realised Lorraine was shaking.

Her head jerked up immediately, her mother’s teary eyes meeting her own.

“Mom-”

“You are all I’ve got, Lyndsey,” She interrupted, gripping her daughter’s hand fiercely. It was enough to make Lyndsey stand up, pulling her Mom up with her for a hug.

“I’m not going anywhere,” She protested, shock running through her veins. She hadn’t seen her Mom cry in the longest time, and certainly not because of her.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

She pulled back, watching Lorraine wipe away a tear. “I mean, I have no idea what I’d do if something happened to you that I had no idea of finding out. Something that I didn’t have a chance to keep you safe from.”

She was pulled into a hug once more, her Mom’s arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. It dawned on her suddenly that maybe her mother hadn’t been mad that she’d spent the weekend away with the most famous name in hockey - but more that she’d kept it secret, that she thought Lyndsey didn’t trust her enough to be okay with, as long as she was okay.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay,” She promised, tucking her face away into Lorraine’s neck ignoring the way her glasses slid a little down her nose.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

And - what? What kind of question was that?

“Huh?”

“Tea,” Lorraine repeated, stepping back and sniffling a little to clear her nose. “I’ll get the tea, go sit down.” She nodded towards the living room while bending over to pick up their dishes, turning around without a second glance towards her daughter who was standing stock still, her arms still open at her sides where she was only just in a hug.

“Mom-”

“Put a movie on or something. So we can watch TV.”

The voice carried out through the kitchen, that Lyndsey was staring at. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her mouth open in confusion. She felt for a second that she was in an episode of Punk’d, but chose to do what her Mom said and turned on her heel, stopping by the DVD case against the wall and picking one at random. She was still in a daze, putting the disc into the DVD and working the rest on auto pilot, that it took her Mom coming back into the room for her to realise just what they were watching.

“Oh, I love Gerard Butler.”

She snapped out of it quickly, eyes glancing to the screen to see the intro menu to PS. I Love You flashing back at her. As if she was in the right frame of mind to deal with the kind of heart ache attached to that movie.

“I just grabbed it randomly,” Lyndsey answered, taking her tea and staring straight at her mother, who had done a complete 180 on the emotional scale. It was scaring her a little bit. “Are… Does this-” She huffed, setting her mug down so that she could have both hands free.

“Does this what?”

She stared, incredulously. “Seriously, Mom? We barely speak for two weeks and then after a few sentences over dinner we’re back to normal?”

Lorraine shrugged one shoulder a little. “Unless you want to keep fighting…” The way she carried on drinking her tea made Lyndsey see shades of red.

“Of course I don’t! But you’ve made me feel like you didn’t approve of Sidney, and obviously my going to see him, but now I’m confused.”

“About?”

She huffed out a laugh and threw her hands up. “You honestly expect me to believe that you’re completely okay with the idea that I’m dating Sidney Crosby,” She deadpanned, watching as her Mom just kept staring at the DVD menu, yet to be played. “Like, that’s not the same type of conversation as talking about the weather.”

Lorraine sighed, looking down for the remote to press play, the room going dark suddenly as Warner Brothers logo appeared. “Well, I’m not absolutely thrilled about it.”

The sudden admission of truth made Lyndsey’s next retort stop in its’ tracks; it was more than what she was expecting to get, without actually having to beg for her Mom to tell her how she really felt. And yet, even if it wasn’t a complete ‘no’, she was still disappointed by it, for some reason. Not that she ever really expected her Mom to be completely gushing over Sidney straight away, or even after she’d maybe met him once or twice, but to hear the resignation in her tone just made her feel like she’d done something wrong again.

Which made no sense.

“Okay then,” She mumbled quietly, crossing her legs underneath herself and picking up her tea again.

“Lyndsey-”

“I said it’s okay, Mom. Forget it,” She sighed, clearing her throat a little and making moves to settle into the couch, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation. She could see Lorraine pause out of the corner of her eye, tapping her thumb against the rim of the mug before she huffed and picked up the remote again, pausing the movie before it had even begun. “Mom,” Lyndsey groaned.

“Look.” She snapped her mouth shut at her Mom’s tone. It wasn’t one to mess with. “You can sit here and pout all you want, but that’s just how I feel, Lyndsey. You kept it a secret, then lied about it, using friends of yours as a cover and then came back either thinking I wouldn’t find out or that I’d be jumping for joy once I did. Forgive me for not giving you either of those reactions, but that’s not I see the situation.”

“And how do you see it?” She snapped, before she could help herself.

“How every mother would see it when her daughter gets involved with someone who a- lives in another country, b- has a high profile job meaning he’s never around, c- is more famous the Prime Minister. Take your pick.”

She sighed deeply, literally biting her lip so that she wouldn’t make a snarky retort that would end up in another screaming match. Lorraine was right, after all.

And also very, very wrong.

“Mom,” She turned her head, held her mother’s gaze. “I’m only going to say this once, because I know there’ll be no point repeating it until you can see it in person.” She waited until Lorraine waved her hand, indicating for her to ‘get on with it’. “Yes, he’s famous and plays hockey that isn’t in Edmonton and has this completely different life. He does. It’s crazy. He’s always so busy, not just with hockey but juggling his charity commitments, his non hockey friends, his family.” She paused for a second, ignoring the way her heart hurt a little, even though she knew Sidney would never complain about it. “And somehow, on top of all of that, he went out of his way to get to know me. And, I honestly don’t care about all of the hockey stuff.”

“Lyndsey.” She ignored her mother’s rolling eyes.

“Well, not like that. Like, yeah he’s the Captain of my hockey team and is the best player since Wayne Gretzky and he practically shits gold medals for this country. But when I’m with him, or we’re just talking on the phone about my day, or what he wants to do in the summer, or what movie he’s had a rare chance to see - he’s just some guy, Mom. An incredibly generous, sweet guy who- who-,” She laughed a little bitterly to herself, staring down at her mug in her lap, “Who just wants to be with me. For some crazy reason. Which I hope he never figures out-”

Lorraine’s hand on her shoulder made her stop before she finished her sentence, swallowing heavily and taking a breath to get rid of the tears she could feel waiting for their chance to form in her eyes. It was a lot to think about, really.

“Don’t ever say anything like that about my daughter, again,” Lorraine said quietly, brushing Lyndsey’s hair back off her shoulder. “Regardless of who he is. You are worth it, honey. Don’t you ever let a man make you feel like you’re not.”

She let her Mom’s words run over her for a few moments, smiling a little when she felt a finger brush along her cheek, like when she was a kid. “Thanks, Mom,” She whispered, taking a sip of her luke warm tea to calm herself.

“I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing. Just, be mindful. And… Well, I am Canadian.” Lyndsey looked up in confusion, her Mom’s sly smirk making her cautious. “I’m not going to say no if he ever told you he wanted to meet me. Just - give me fair warning to clean up so that this place doesn’t look like a war zone.”

Lyndsey rolled her eyes, smiling gently as she scooted over on the couch to cuddle into her Mom’s side. “He’s doesn’t care about shit like that, Mom.”

“Yeah, well I do.”

*


Give me 2 minutes.

Glancing down at her phone as it pinged with a new text from Sidney, she smiled as she twisted the tie around the second of the pigtail braids she'd forced her hair into after her shower. She'd taken her time, letting the blissfully hot spray ease the aching muscles in her shoulders and back while thinking about the evening spent in front of the tv with her mom. 

She knew that she should’ve been relieved. They'd finally talked and seemed to be on solid ground again but Lyndsey couldn't help feeling like something wasn't right. She was probably overthinking it but saying such horrible things to each other and going so long without speaking--longer than they ever had before--still had her feeling unsettled. All she could do was hope the feeling went away soon. And that they never fought like that ever again.

Her phone began to chime just as she was putting her brush away, Sidney’s face smiling up at her, waiting for her to FaceTime. She pressed on the green button and picked her cell up, turning around to flick off the light switch to her bathroom before walking across the hall to her room.

“Hey,” She smiled at her screen, shutting her door behind her before she ran at her bed and jumped on it, giggling a little as she landed on her pillows.

Hey there,” He chuckled back. Lyndsey missed it while she was rearranging herself, but once she was on her side and comfortable, she paused for half a second when she realised that Sidney was lying in bed, arm casual behind his head, torso bare. She had to get through an entire conversation while he was just lying there not wearing a shirt, looking like sex.

Asshole.

She cleared her throat, thankful that her lamp was on low so he wouldn’t see her cheeks flush. “How was your day?”

Pretty chill, actually. Went over to the Fluery’s for dinner.

“Oh yeah?” She smiled. “How are they?”

Flower had missed the last two games, some kind of lower body injury that the Pens weren’t talking about. Lyndsey never asked Sidney about any of the players out on injury - it wasn’t something she was dying to know, as long as they were eventually going to be okay and return to the lineup. Plus, she figured he didn’t want to talk about work with the limited time they usually had at the late hours of the night.

Really good. Estelle and Scarlett are such little characters, it makes me laugh every time.” His smile widened. “And Vee made my favourite lasagna, so it was good night.

Lyndsey snorted, rolling her eyes a little. “You’re so spoilt.”

Hey!” He replied, indignantly. “I helped do the dishes.

“Putting them in the dishwasher doesn’t count.”

Uhh, it totally does.

She couldn’t help but shake her head, hiding her smile behind her fingers as she leant back further into the pillows. Sidney just stared back at her, eyes half lidded with a gentle smile on his face. Lyndsey couldn’t help but laugh after what felt like a minute of them just staring at each other. “What?”

What?

“You’re just staring at me.”

She watched his shrug, finally bringing his arm down from behind his head and switching hands he held his phone in, crossing his free arm across his chest. “I’m enjoying the view.

“Oh Jesus.”

Please don’t hang up,” He laughed, eyes dancing across the screen. He bit his lip at her deadpanned glare in return, not at all managing to hide his grin. But the dimples in his cheek gave him away, and she found herself rolling her eyes again.

“You’re luck you’re cute.”

I mean…"

She scoffed. “Seriously??”

I’m kidding! If anyone’s the cute one, it’s you.

“Ugh.” Never in her life did she ever imagine she’d be arguing over who was better looking between her and Sidney Crosby. Obviously he won. Hands down. Every single time. And now they were calling shots over FaceTime like they were totally that couple that couldn’t decide if ‘you hang up, no YOU hang up’.

I’ll keep saying it.” She raised an eyebrow, watching as he took a deep breath. “You’re cute, you’re cute, you’re cute, you’re-

“Okay, okay! I get it, thank you,” She grumbled, turning on her side. His smile was going to be the death of her.

Good. So, when do you work next?

She pouted. “Night after tomorrow. Then I’m on for the next six, someone’s on leave so I picked up an extra shift.”

Lyndsey watched Sidney frown through the screen. “You won’t be able to see any of our games.

“Maybe that means you’ll win them all?” He didn’t even dignify that with a response, just rolled his eyes back at her and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll check the scores if I can when I go on my first break.”

You should text me.

“Hmm?”

During the parts of the game you’ll get to see. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.” He wiggled his eyebrows and bit his lip again, squirming down on his bed to turn on his side just like she was, the sheets bunching up around his waist.

“Like you need me to tell you how to improve your game.”

I like it when you tell me things.”

“Yeah, about what’s going on here or whatever.”

He just shrugged, turning into his pillow for a second. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter to me. I just like hearing from you. Makes me miss you a little bit less.

Lyndsey thanked her lucky stars that she was already lying down, because she wouldn’t have been able to handle another bit of emotion coming from someone other than her tonight if she had been standing. It made her heart melt. It had been so long since she’d had someone in her life that she’d gotten to know so well that actually spending time apart made her miss them that she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be wanted in a relationship.

And most days she was usually okay with their situation. Obviously, it wasn’t ideal, but it was still completely something she had never had imagined that she was totally fine with it being long distance and a certain degree of complicated. But nights like tonight, where all she wanted to do was curl up next to him and have him hug all her problems away, made her wish that there was just some way for it to be a little bit easier for the both of them.

She tucked her chin down into her hoodie, looking up at him through her lashes. “You really miss me that much?”

His long suffering sigh made her gulp - like she’d just said the stupidest thing ever to something she should already know. And, well. She knew Sid missed her. But, sometimes a girl just likes hearing it.

Lynds,” He tsked, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair, “Missing you is like a hobby.

She didn’t have anything to say that, overwhelmed by the warm fuzzies she felt running through her veins. She was so glad that he felt the same; not that she doubted the two of them anymore (well, mostly), but just having some reassurance that she wasn’t the only one losing her mind on a daily basis.

You okay?

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the tightening in his chest. “Ye-yeah. It’s just…” She sighed, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses, “It’s just been a weird night.”

He nodded, hiding his face while he yawned. “You wanna talk about it?

She chuckled, reaching above her to turn her lamp off so that her face was only illuminated from her screen. “Maybe when you’re not about to pass out.”

No, no. I’m good.” But his eyes were practically shut and by that point it was closer to one am his time, she had to let him go. The heavy emotional low down could wait for another time - if she really was patching things up with her Mom, there was no reason to rush all the gory details.

“Yeah, sure you are. Go to sleep. We can talk about it later.”

He nodded once more, stretching his free arm up and failing completely to hide a yawn. Lyndsey watched the sheets move down a little, his chest and pecs on full display from underneath his coffee coloured sheets and all she wanted was to be lying right there next to him, maybe even taking a turn as the big spoon while running his fingers through his hair.

Kay,” He mumbled, opening one eye bleakly. “Sweet dreams, beautiful.

She grinned, wiggling her fingers back at him in a wave. “Night.”

He waved back slightly and then the video call ended, the light in her room dimming significantly as her contact list appeared instead. Hopefully she’d have a chance to talk to him about everything before she went over to Claire’s the next night, because she was going to need some strength from him if she was going to get through explaining all the drama to Claire, and catching Brent up on everything he’d missed since she had seen him last.

Before she finally crawled under the covers, Lyndsey pressed on the message icon next to Sidney’s name, biting her lip while she found the emoticon she wanted to send before locking the screen black, wishing it was already the playoffs so that she could see him again.

*


“Hey hey!” Brent’s voice chimed through the front hallway of Claire’s apartment, traveling down to where the two women were in the kitchen. Claire was stirring the ground beef that was on the stove, Lyndsey having the time of her life mashing the avocado so that they could eat their tacos in traditional style. There was no way she wasn’t have guacamole. No way.

“In here,” They both chimed back, glancing over their shoulders at each other and grinning before turning back to their work. Brent strolled in casually, lifting up a plastic bag to set it on the bench, reaching in to pull out a bottle of tequila.

“Now we can get this party started!” He cheered, making grabby hands for the blender that was next to Lyndsey, waiting patiently for her to lick the excess avocado off her hands before lifting it over for him to start making the only drink of choice. “And how are we, ladies?”

Lyndsey smiled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, handing over some glasses. “Exhausted. I’m already tired from my shifts that I haven’t worked yet.”

Brent pouted, frowning at her. “I bet. You look like shit, have you been sleeping?”

“She’s been fighting,” Claire interrupted, turning off the heat and spinning around to stand next to Lyndsey, reaching for a knife and the tomatoes. “With her Mom.”

Lyndsey rolled her eyes. “I told you, we sorted-“

“Fighting about what?”

Luckily, Brent was paying attention to how much alcohol he wanted to leave in the tequila bottle, so he missed the quick glance the two girls shared with each other. It’s not that she was avoiding the conversation all together, but she had actually had a chance to see Brent since before she had been to visit Sidney the six weeks before. his job took him away a lot of the time, and she couldn’t be quite sure whether he’d flown in from Vancouver or from somewhere on the East Coast, anxious to be completely caught up on their lives from the past month and a bit. Claire could clearly see the anxiety in Lyndsey’s eyes, nodding minutely that she wouldn’t say anything until Lyndsey did.

“Something stupid, in retrospect,” She muttered, squeezing the final bit of lemon juice into the bowl she was using.

“Where’s the mix?”

Claire pointed to the freezer, looking to her left as Brent busied himself with his head in the freezer, ass sticking up way high in the air. Tell him, she mouthed but Lyndsey shook her head, pointing to the blender. A few drinks in would probably be the best time to break the news.

Brent didn’t take to secrets lightly.

“Okay, what the fuck Claire.”

“What?!”

Brent levelled her with a dead pan look. “Do I have to do everything around here? Where is the music?”

“You’re such an asshole,” She laughed, unlocking her phone from her pocket and throwing it to him. “We don’t see you for two months and you barge up in here all demanding…”

“Well,” He grinned, pausing the drink making to find Spotify. Lyndsey had moved into grating the cheese. “I am the one with my most exciting life, you know. Guess who I had dinner with the other night. Just guess. You’ll never guess.”

“I-“

“Justin Trudeau,” He beamed, pressing a button to bring the music to life, going back to the blender. “Well, him and his wife and his people, but yeah. No idea how that happened, but he’s more beautiful in real life that I had imagined.”

“The Prime Minister?” Even considering what was going on with Lyndsey’s life, that was impressive.

“Mhmm. Something with work wanting to be more ecologically friendly or something and he was with the environmental minister and blah blah, I didn’t really pay that much attention, I just need to get them the funds for it, y’know? He actually reminded me,” Brent clicked his fingers, clearly racking his brain before he pointed at Lyndsey. “Who’s the one from that show? That looks like that hockey player?”

Claire snorted as she was putting the meat into a serving bowl. “Oh yeah, that’s descriptive.”

But Lyndsey knew what he meant. “McDreamy?”

“Yeah!” Brent cheered, turning on the blender once he added the ice. “Who’s the other one?” He shouted over the blitzing, seemingly unfazed by the noise.

“Who?”

“The hockey player! The one with, y’know. The hair!” He threw his head back, waving it from side to side as if he had anything longer than the short back and sides he was required to sport for work and Lyndsey burst out laughing, having to hold onto the bench before she slid to the floor. “You know the one!” He turned off the blender, reaching for serving glasses.

She kept laughing, nodding her head. “Yeah, I- Patrick Sharp.” She took a deep breath, holding her side. “Oh my God, that hurts.”

“Patrick Sharp. What team does he play for?”

Lyndsey cleared her throat, letting out a deep breath before trusting herself to pick up a knife to chop up the lettuce. “He plays for the Dallas Stars. And also the straight, wife and two kids, happily married team.”

‘Oh, psh. Like that means anything these days.”

“Uhh, pretty sure it means something.”

Brent just glared at her again, not blinking while he took a long drag from his glass. He choked as he swallowed it down. “Oh holy shit, we’re gonna be dead tomorrow.”

Lyndsey groaned, taking the poor excuse of chopped lettuce on the board and putting it onto another bowl, handing it over to Claire who was wandering back and forth to move this party into the living room, where they were sitting on pillows around the coffee table, tapas style. Brent liked to make a mean drink and normally Lyndsey was down for that, but they were going to have a serious conversation and she didn’t want any of them to be high on life and alcohol and then let all the emotions run free because she had a feeling she was going to cry and scream or both.

“You’re evil.”

Brent just grinned, picking up all three glasses, and nodded his head at the blender. “You love me. Bring that in, would you?”

Lyndsey waved him away, checking over the kitchen counter to make sure they wouldn’t need to get up again once they started eating. She swiped some extra napkins, and also a washcloth just in case anything spilled on the carpet before taking the handle of the blender, carrying it all into the living room.


“He’s the Prime Minister. Jesus, Claire, I do have self-control, y’know.”

“What now?” Brent rolled his eyes, nodding his head at Claire who just shrugged.

“He was in the same room as that man and did not once try to grab his ass. Like, c’mon. What’s the worst he could do?”

Brent sputtered from behind his glass, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh! I don’t know, have me arrested for touching government property?”


Both the ladies burst out laughing, leaning into each other while they tried to calm down. It didn’t take them long, Brent busying himself again with Claire’s phone so that he could choose another song on the Spotify playlist before settling in to eat.

It had become somewhat of a tradition when they didn’t want to go out. Both Lyndsey and Brent would go to Claire’s, since she was the only one who lived on her own, and would eat and drink themselves silly for a night before passing out on whatever was the nearest comfortable available surface. You’d think, after all this time, that they’d have a system in place to make sure that they got to their beds before the passing out actually happened, but they didn’t.


The only real thing that was a guarantee was Claire waking up in the bathroom somehow – either in the bathtub or hugging the porcelain bowl. She refused to admit she couldn’t handle tequila like her other two friends.


Brent caught them up on the rest of his trip out East, things that didn’t involve not groping the leader of their country. He told Lyndsey how he’d walked past the Hockey Hall of Fame (“What do you mean ‘walked past it’? You didn’t go in?”, “I’m not a hockey freak like you are.”), mentioned how his work colleagues took him out for dinner – “Pizza. Like, what the hell.” – and how much nicer the weather had been there than in Alberta.

Being near the end of March, on occasion there was still snow on the ground around Edmonton – Toronto was clearly moving past winter quicker than the West coast.

"But, who cares about that. What's new here?" Brent queried, not looking up from making his taco as Claire side eyed Lyndsey.

"Yeah Lyndsey, what's new here?"

Fuck you, she mouthed to her best friend, looking guiltily at Brent who had paused, halfway to putting a chip full of guac in his mouth, his eyebrows raised. She opened her mouth to say something, but literally froze. How in the hell was she supposed to summarize the last 3 months of her life to him? They hadn't seen each other since the night they all went clubbing and even then she wasn't in the best of moods. Not that she thought Brent would remember it, having been passed out in the taxi.

"Uhm..."

The man across from them just stared back and forth, like he was watching a tennis match. Claire sat back, leaning against the pillow on the couch, holding her margarita and looking smug. Lyndsey wanted to throw something at her.

"Okay, what have I missed?"

Claire took a big gulp and shrugged, clearly showing that she knew something he didn't and Brent levelled Lyndsey with a stare hard enough to put her six feet under. "Lyndsey Jennings," He pointed a fork at her, accidentally flicking tomato onto her plate, giggling. "Oops. But seriously. C'mon."

Lyndsey groaned, covering her face with her hands and falling back against the floor, still trying to rack her brain to come up with a better solution than “I’m dating Sidney Crosby."

Actually, that might just work.


"Did you kill someone at work without meaning to?"

She heard Claire groan, still refusing to move her hands. "You're such a sick fuck, Brent."

"Well actually, Claire. My 'fucking' has never been described as sick. Unless you mean, fully sick. In which case-"

"Stop. I don't need to know."

“You're ruining all my fun."

No, all your fun is currently avoiding the situation-" Claire kicked her leg from under the table, "Hiding. On. The floor."

"Ow!" The last kick got her right on the ankle bone, and Lyndsey sat up to cross her legs, moving them away from Claire's flailing limbs. "Do you have to?"

Brent nodded, his mouth full of a taco that he wasn't waiting on the girls to get started with. "Spill,' He demanded, catching the sour cream as it nearly fell into his lap. Lyndsey looked on in distaste.


"You're disgusting." She got a open mouth of food back at her for her trouble. She turned to Claire, pleading, "Can't we at least get a full drink in before this starts?"

Claire shook her head. "Honey, I'm not the one who's been keeping secrets since New Years Eve," She reasoned, knocking back more of her drink. Lyndsey sighed, resigned to her fate. She was trying to sort her words out while Brent dropped his food back on his plate, reaching for the napkins to clear himself up before her picked up his drink and held it in both hands in front of his face, like a kid would with a sippy-cup. "Just show him like you showed me," Claire offered, with a nonchalant shrug.


Lyndsey rolled her eyes, reaching her for phone regardless. "Oh yeah, because you handled it so well."


"Eh," She shrugged, "He's a boy. He won't be bitchy."

Brent frowned. "As in, I won't be bitchy? Have you met me?" He turned his attention to Lyndsey. "Would you just show me whatever the fuck it-"

Lyndsey handed over the phone. She had opened up her photo album, not having to scroll far before she found a photo of her and Sidney from when they had walked around the waterfront of downtown Pittsburgh. She had no idea how she'd managed to get him to take a selfie, but she was glad he had agreed - it was a photo she turned to to look at whenever she was having a not so great time at work or home and just wanted to imagine she was somewhere else for a while. They had eaten lunch and the sun was out, warming everything up slightly, including their cheeks. Her nose was red from the cold air that was blowing, but he looked magnificent as always, the black jacket he'd worn to their date done up around his neck, his hair mostly free of product and brushed off his face from when he'd ran his hands through it after his shower. There were three photos in succession; one with the both of them looking at the camera, the next with Sidney's face turned to hers, the last one showed the both of them looking at each other, matching grins on their faces.

Lyndsey didn't manage to snap the rest of the encounter but they had both burst out laughing, his arm wrapping around her shoulder to pull her into his chest, while he buried a kiss in her hair.

She ached for him, suddenly.

"Oh. My God."

She snapped back to reality, looking across the table at the man before her, his jaw hanging so low it was practically on the ground. The first photo was still on the screen.

"Uhm..." She repeated, eloquent as ever.

Brent was still gaping, looking between his two best friends, then back down at the photo. "You met him?"

Claire snorted, reaching out for the blender to refill her glass. "She did more than meet him," She muttered under her breath, glaring as Lyndsey reached out to shove her shoulder. Brent didn't hear her comment.

"Wait, what?"

Lyndsey took a deep breath, frowning at him while she shrugged. "I, uh... That photo wasn't from the first time I met him?" She offered, trying to make it sound like a question, trying to seem as innocent as possible.

You flew 2,000 miles to have sexy time with Captain Canada. With him, you are anything but innocent, Miss Jennings.

Brent glanced back at the phone, then stared off to the side at his margarita like it held all the answers to what he was seeking in the universe. Suddenly he gasped.

"SC?!?!"

Lyndsey held her hands up in defence (luckily, since Brent tossed her phone back to her at a rather abrupt pace), watching as he stood up and started to walk back and forth across Claire's living room floor. He ran his fingers through his hair.


"Remember that time when you were texting someone and I asked what SC stood for, and you let me sit there and go through every flipping person I could think of with those initials and still wouldn't tell me?" He waited a moment then, dramatically waving his hand around the room, he yelled, "SC!"
 
Blushing, she tried once more to talk. "I know but I—"
 
"SC, Lyndsey!" Brent interrupted shrilly.
 
"I'm sorry,” she said loudly, thanking whoever was watching over her that they were having this conversation on the floor of Claire’s apartment, not anywhere in public. She also wished he wasn't so amusing when he was angry because, right at that moment, trying not to laugh was slowing becoming a losing battle.
 
"Sorry, my butt. You're just sorry because you got caught, and now you're laughing at me and do you know what that makes you? An asshole. A mean asshole. You too," he said to Claire when she snickered behind her hand, adding a glare at the blonde before he turned back to Lyndsey. "SC?! Ugh!” And then, because he was nothing if not dramatic, he turned around to reach towards the sofa. Before she knew it, she had a face full of pillow, knocking her backwards to the ground.

“That hurt, asshole!”

“I don’t care,” Came his indignant response. “And I refuse to feel guilty about it, or even apologise until you tell me every explicit detail of this sordid love affair that you clearly don’t feel the need to inform your best friends’ about.”

Lyndsey just raised an arm off the floor and flipped her the bird.

“I’ve known for a while,” Claire piped up, clearly helping the situation. Claire held up the blender, waving it in the mans' direction. "How about you sit down and handle this like a civilized person?"



“You knew?

"Of course I knew, I was here," She snapped back. Claire never really was one for short tempers. "Sit the fuck down. She's already had one friend run off and not speak to her about it, she doesn't need it from you as well." Even though her tone meant business, Lyndsey was glad that her best friend still had it in her to look sheepish. Not that she blamed Claire for how she reacted at all.

“This isn’t about you, Claire-bear. Lyndsey, get the fuck up off the floor and spill your guts, young lady. Why didn’t you tell me?”
 
Lyndsey had been expecting that question. Still, she cringed because it reminded her of the time she'd finally told Claire, and when her mother had found out. She wouldn't blame him if he reacted the way that they did; it would serve her right for not telling him for so long. She reluctantly sat up, with a sigh.
 
"I couldn't, not at first. When we started texting, I didn't think it would go anywhere because we barely knew each other and were so far away. But then he surprised me with a visit and before I knew it, I was flying down to Pittsburgh to spend the weekend and everything just..." Shaking her head, she took a quick pull of her drink— for liquid courage or the chance to pull her thoughts together, she didn't know. "I didn't know how to tell anyone, Brent. I didn't even think anyone would believe me, I mean it's—Sidney freaking Crosby and me? Who would believe that?" She let out a dry laugh but stopped short at the look of disapproval both Brent & Claire gave her.
 
"Don't you start that shit with me, Lyndsey Jennings," he said fiercely, pointing a finger at her face. "You're the most amazing person I know. And let me tell you, if I chased skirts I would have been all over you years ago. Sidney freaking Crosby wouldn't stand a chance against this,” he stressed the word by pointing at his face, lips twitching into a smile when she burst into laughter so hard that her eyes watered. He waited until she'd calmed down before he added seriously, "Don't over-think it. The guy obviously wants you, he makes you happy—which you deserve more than anyone—so fuck everyone else and go with it."
 
Nodding, she smiled apologetically. “It all happened stupidly fast, I- I can't begin to explain it!”

There was a pause in the conversation. Brent was rubbing his eyes roughly and Lyndsey took to biting her lip, staring at her lap. Claire cleared her throat.


"Good," Claire praised, filling all of their glasses back up, setting the blender on the floor since it would need to be refilled and remade. "Now," She turned to Lyndsey. "Do you want me to catch him up from what you told me, or will you be able to actually form words that don't make you look disgustingly smitten and actually have a conversation?"

Lyndsey couldn't help it- she burst out laughing. Just the way that Claire had spoken so matter-of-fact about how she was completely in over her head about everything was just too much. It didn't take long for Claire to join in and even Brent managed to simmer down a little, clearly fighting a smile as he watched the two of them struggle to contain themselves.

"I don't - ..."

"Yeah, okay I'll talk. Here," She handed over the jug. "Go make another round." And Lyndsey was waved off, clearly not part of the conversation.

Claire, to her credit, started from the very beginning. Lyndsey hadn't told her all the explicit details (the whiteboard and The Outsiders were for only the two of them to know, she thought) about his stay in the hospital, but enough to get the point across. From remember the flowers, to the text messages, to the New Years date - Brent stared at her, wide eyed - Claire did a pretty good job of capturing most of Lyndsey's timeline of the last six months. She didn't really know what had happened in Pittsburgh - obviously her best friend knew they'd slept together, you could probably even figure that out if you lived on the moon - but their quiet conversations, the skating date, that was stuff Lyndsey wanted to keep for herself.

She distracted herself from the both of them, pouring in the rest of the tequila before adding mix and ice, blitzing it all together and making a racket in the kitchen, before she gathered her wits and moved back into the living room, sitting precariously back in her seat. Brent was sit opposite her still, enraptured with Claire's story telling, which was getting more and more extravagant as her drink disappeared.


"And then! Oh my God, and then," She giggled, swiping some cheese from the bowl, "Oh my God Brent. We are going to a bar, with her," Lyndsey frowned at the hand waving in front of her face, "And watching a Penguins game. Because her face is like, way more entertaining than what's happening on screen."

Brent's eyes widened, looking at Lyndsey with wonder. She shrugged, looking down at the jug still in her hands, condensation dripping onto her legs. "I'm fine, mostly."

"By that, she means not at all."


"Hey!"

"What?" Claire raised an eyebrow. "Oh, c'mon. Tell me you don't get raging bull mad when someone hits him, or checks him into the boards."


"I did that before we were dating," She reasoned, but stopped. It was one of the first times she'd said it out loud. And it was clearly written all over her face.

"Yeah girl," Claire said quietly, raising her glass in a toast. “Dating.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

All of them were silent, the soothing voice of Keith Urban singing about rain on Sundays mellowing away in the background. Slowly but surely, a grin broke out on her face and Claire launched across from her seat, careful not to spill her drink or the jug of the next round of drinks as she wrapped her arm around Lyndsey's shoulder, kissing her cheek.


"Brent, our little girl is growing up," Claire sniffed, holding on even as Lyndsey elbowed her in the side.

"I'm older than the both of you," She chastised, rolling her eyes and handing Claire the jug. She shuffled around the table, wiggling in to Brent's side as close as he would allow, resting her head on his shoulder as she side hugged him as best she could while they were both sitting down. He didn't move, apart from the look down at her, a blank look on his face. "I'm sorry," She pouted, batting her eyelashes obnoxiously. "It wasn't something I could just call and say over the phone, and then you were gone, and I was in Pittsburgh and it's all been so crazy so quick I just... I had no idea where to begin."


Brent kept looking down at her, one arm resting on his knee that was bent, the other behind Lyndsey so he could lean back. Claire busied herself with pouring more drinks when finally, finally, Brent sighed, reaching over to the floor to swipe Claire's phone up, dislodging Lyndsey in the process. He pressed the screen a few times, before the familiar chords of Kool & The Gang's 'Celebration' came blasting through the speakers. A grin broke out on his face and he stood up, offering her his hand.

"I know he's some hot shot Canadian hero and could probably go 10 rounds with Mike Tyson," He started, taking Lyndsey's other hand and holding on tightly. "But, if he fucks with you, I'll kill him."


"Here, here," Claire echoed, still in her place on the floor, bopping her head in time to the music.

Lyndsey grinned, relieved that he wasn't about to go postal, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. "He won't, but okay," She assured him, laughing loudly as he let out a 'whoop' and picked her up, spinning her around the room.

"You're dating Sidney Crosby!"

"I'm dating Sidney Crosby," She giggled. Claire turned up the music, deciding after all that she wanted to join the party, handing over both their drinks before picking hers up again. 

"So, to our dear friend Lyndsey, who has finally found the man of every Canadian's dreams & has managed to make him fall hopelessly in love with her."

"He's said that?" Brent screeched.


She blanched. "We- No. No, it's not-"


"Ah!" Claire shut her off, forcing her drink higher. "But he will be. So, to you, Lyndsey Jennings. For bagging the most fabulous ass this glorious country of ours has ever produced.”


The three of them grinned, knocking back their glasses, all of them wincing slightly as they brought them back down. Brent gasped, his free hand on Lyndsey's forearm as he stared at the both of them.

"What?" She giggled, taking another sip.

"Fabul-ass,” He grinned, losing it laughing as Lyndsey's spat out her drink all over the carpet. Brent took her drink out of her hand and moved her away, Claire took the washcloth Lyndsey had pre-dampened in the event she’d spill something, and pulled her into a hug, sobering her laughter quickly.

"I really am sorry, Brent. I never meant to upset you or make you feel like—"
 
"Okay, okay, don't do the thing," he cut her off with one hand in the air, amused exasperation literally all over his face. "That thing where the person keeps apologizing and trying to prove how sorry they are and—" he stopped just long enough to make a disgusted sound before he continued, "No, we're not doing that. I know you're sorry, you know I'd forgive you for just about anything, I love you, the end."

She smiled, nodded and mimed zipping her lips shut. Brent was always quick to forgive and forget. They moved to sit back down, ignoring the fact that most of the taco meat was cold, making extra dinner for themselves. Even though she knew she was going to regret it in the morning, she reached for her glass once more, trying to ignore the tequila burn as it moved down her throat.
 
"At least tell me if it's as good as I'm thinking." Brent glanced quickly to Claire, and instantly Lyndsey knew where the conversation was going. That face never meant innocence. "Because seriously, the entire world - as in the female world - probably looks at him and thinks 'that dude is a beast with those hands'."

Laughing so hard she almost spilled her drink, setting it on the coffee table to hurl the pillow he’d thrown at her back to him. "Brent Pacey! That is my boyfriend you're talking about."
 
He dodged it easily, frowning at her terrible aim. Giving her a look that clearly said 'no shit' he demanded, "But have you seen his hands?!”
 
Rolling her eyes, she knew that the only way she'd get out of the conversation was to actually tell him something. 
 
"How do you think he is?"
 
Brent's eyes went so wide he almost looked cartoonish. "I think he's-"
 
"All of that times ten." Deciding to let him this about that, she took a long pull from her drink, grinning wide when she heard his insane laughter from behind her as Claire grinned and turned the music back up on her speaker.
♠ ♠ ♠
comments and rage about lack up updates can be left right here.

life got in the way of this one, it's been sitting as a WIP for about 3 months. you can go right ahead, as always, and thank lyndsey for most of the brent revelation scene. i know you might feel robbed since SHE ISN'T UPDATING, but she kind of is because without her half of this wouldn't be written.

i leave for camp again in 2 weeks. i hope to have the next chapter out by then (don't hold your breath).

one last note - since my beloved husband-to-be and his Dallas Stars teammates are done for the season, i'll be proudly waving an imaginary Penguins flag for the rest of the playoffs!