Master of Timing

They had talked. The second he had this car in the garage, he dialled her number and she had answered in two rings. She had poured out every version of ‘I’m sorry’ between his car and the kitchen and he just let her talk. Lyndsey explained that she didn’t blame him for anything, even though it seemed like she was, it was just a situation that neither of them had any control over. He was sitting on his couch by the time she was done, a fresh cup of coffee resting on his knee. He took his chance to explain that part of the reason he flew off the handle was because he thought he had somehow messed up another friendship before it had even started, and he didn’t really understand why.

She reassured him it wasn’t his fault. And in turn, he told her that she wasn’t an idiot for thinking the way she did. It had hurt him, but he understood. It was hard for him too, sometimes.

“I’m sorry that I took it out on you,” He apologised. “It’s frustrating being here and you being in Edmonton. I, uh. I don’t think it would’ve blown out of proportion if we lived around the corner from each other.”

Hearing her laughter through the phone settled something in him he didn’t know was upset. He took a sip of his coffee and briefly allowed himself to think that maybe this would be how their relationship together would start; phone calls over coffee in the morning when she finished work, chatting over Skype while eating dinner, emails. Then he frowned a little and realised it all had to do with technology. Maybe he could write her a letter.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used a pen other than to sign an autograph.

“I had my MRI today,” He said softly, the silence of his house comforting.

“How did it go?”

He sighed. “I’m not cleared. The doctor thinks I’ll be okay, but he needs to go over it with the trainers and he said that there’s something more he needs to look at before I can go back to full time skating.”

She could hear the resignation in his voice. “I’m sorry. I know how much you want to be playing.”

“Yeah.”

His grandfather clocked chimed from his hallway as their conversation trailed off. He found it oddly peaceful just to hear her breathing on the other line. Well it was, until his doorbell rang through the house. He jumped a little.

“Is that your door? It’s really loud,” Lyndsey laughed and Sid agreed, moving through his foyer.

“Yeah, I should change it- oh hey,” He answered his door, Kris standing there with Alex in his arms. Since he was out on injury, Tanger hadn’t travelled with the team to Michigan. He stepped back to let his D man in.

“Company?”

“Yeah,” He answered. “I’ll uhh… speak to you later?”

“Sure.” He could practically hear her smile. “Have a good day.”

“You too. Sleep tight.” He cringed internally. God he was so lame sometimes. When he hung up, Kris had raised an eyebrow before Sid’s phone had even locked. “What?”

“What’re you so smiley for?”

Sidney rolled his eyes, and headed past him, back to the kitchen to make another coffee. He tickled Alex’s tummy as Kris followed, sticking out his tongue. “Good morning to you, too.”

“What?” Kris laughed. “You haven’t smiled for weeks man, it’s weird. It’s like… your go to face, usually.” The coffee grinder filled the noise in the background as Alex squealed and clapped his hands. He nodded when Sid held up a extra mug.

“Papa, papa, papa!”

“Oui, mon fils?”

“Jus?”

Kris looked up and Sid smiled, opening the door to his refrigerator. “Everything I own isn’t kid friendly,” He started, putting the OJ on the counter before reaching above the stove top cupboards to hunt for a glass. Maybe one of Pascal’s kids had left something in there he could use.

“Ce best bien,” He heard from behind him, finding the smallest glass he could and half filling it with juice, then with water. He’d learnt enough about Alex that he was exactly like his father and could not be trusted around sugar. “Oui, oui. Sidney is getting your juice.” He looked up to see Alex grinning, holding his hands out and grasping at the air like it was the best thing on Earth. “Merci,” Kris nodded and Sid made his way back into the living room, moving the remotes off the couch (where he had thrown them two days ago) so that Kris could sit down. He threw his phone at the coffee table while he was at it, his defensemen’s coffee next to it.

“He’s getting so big,” Sid commented, looking wistfully at the toddler next to him, clutching at his Dad’s hands while he held the glass steady.

“I know,” Tanger sighed, brushing his hair back of Alex’s head. That was one thing about the French Canadians; they were a little more hands on with their kids, constantly hugging and kissing and just in general showing off how much they loved their children. Sidney saw enough of it growing up in Halifax, his Mom never left him alone when he went home, but he knew it was nothing compared to being raised in Quebec. They couldn’t help but over the top love their children. It made them feel like they were abusing them to not shower them with affection every minute of the day. “So,” He started, resting the glass on the floor next to his feet. Alex started to crawl over to where Sid was sitting, his tiny pointer finger pressing into the face of his watch. Sid moved his arm back and forth, sharing a wide eyed glance and a smile with the kid, showing him how to turn the outside of the watch so it made a clicking sound (he wasn’t sure what that feature did but it seemed to be on all the really expensive watches and it was a present from Mario so he wasn’t about to complain. Or try to figure it out). Alex was amazed.

“So?”

Kris shrugged. “Geno called me this morning after breakfast, asking me to check on you.” Sid rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Why is he asking me to do this?”

“I don’t know.” Except, Sidney did know. Geno stuck to him like glue after the last gym session, throwing in another weights session so that Sid wouldn’t be alone. “What did he say?”

“Alex, non.” Stopping the toddler from putting the watch near his mouth, he put his son on the floor, watching him carefully as he let out a squeal and ran circles around the coffee table. Both of them moved their feet back as close to the sofa as possible so that he wouldn’t trip. “He said that you got very angry and wanted to kill a punching bag. Then he didn’t see you for two days. He thinks you will join the UFC.”

He laughed. He wondered what life would be like if he didn’t have the Russian by his side. “No, no UFC. Just… working through some stuff.” Sid knew Kris would understand. He’d had his fair share of runs of bad luck. “I uh… I went for an MRI this morning.” He looked up as Alex stopped, spying one of the remotes as his new toy. Kris took it before he had a chance to press anything and opened the back to remove the batteries, sharing a knowing look with his captain.

“How did it go?”

“Not good.” They both stopped. “I had a dizzy spell, then practically had to bribe them to do the test at all after that. Then apparently there’s something weird about it, so I’m still not cleared and it’s…” He trailed off, mouthing ‘fucked’ so that Alex wouldn’t hear him. He didn’t even want to swear in French, since he knew Catherine wouldn’t approve of him cursing around her son at all.

Kris made a sound of agreement from behind his coffee. “That’s doesn’t answer my question.”

He was confused. “…What?”

“I said Geno told me about the gym from a couple of days ago. The scan was this morning.” He pointed a finger at him. “You don’t lose your cool very often. What made you all angry?” Of course Kris would pick up on it. He was a bit of a wallflower. “Anything bad in Nova?”

“No, no, everyone at home’s fine. I…” She had asked him if he had told any of his team mates about her. And he had sworn he wasn’t keeping it a secret on purpose. Maybe it was a good thing to talk about it. “I met someone.”

By the look on Kris’ face, that was obviously the last thing he expected Sid to say. He was distracted enough that he didn’t quite catch Alex in time before he took a battery out of his Papa’s hands and tried to eat it.

“C’mere, you.” Sid launched forward and flipped Alex upside down, the giggles piercing through the living room as he dropped everything he was holding to the floor. Sid blew a raspberry on his stomach where his sweater had lifted up before he sat him down on his lap, holding his hands as he clapped them together.

“When?”

Oh good, Kris has recovered.

“In Edmonton.” The blush on Sid’s cheeks gave him away. God damn it.

“In Edmon- wait, at the hospital?” Tanger’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates - almost bigger than the grin across his face. “…Who are you and what have you done with Sidney Crosby?”

He snorted, tipping Alex upside down, playing his favourite game. He pulled him back up and rested against the back of the couch, holding Alex in a superman hold above his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s not the most conventional friendship, I’ll give you that.”

“Convention-al?” He looked over.

“Oh uh, normal?” Kris nodded, laughing as Alex smooshed his hands against Sidney’s face. “Yeah, it’s… that’s what Geno picked up on. We kind of got into a fight.” Alex wrapped his tiny arms around Sid’s neck.

“What over?”

He sighed, leaning forward to swipe his cell of the table, opening the messages and scrolling up to the one she had sent him that had turned everything into a huge gigantic mess. He handed the phone over.

Sid knew that they were… okay. They’d talked things over, and the conversation they had before Kris got there made them seem normal. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. He was the kind of person to face things head on; you have a problem with him on the ice, well- fighting’s acceptable in hockey. You have a problem with him in an interview, tell him as soon as he’s done and he’ll either reason with your or apologise for causing offence (that rarely happened). You didn’t want to be friends with him, he needs to hear that face to face, or he just freaks out.

Case in point, as Lyndsey proved.

“I see you have still kept talking though,” Kris handed the phone back. “Is that who was on the phone when we got here?”

“Yeah,” Sid nodded. “I… well, yeah we talked but it still feels, I dunno. I can’t just go over to her house and fix it.”

Kris frowned. “You don’t need to fix it, she was the one who was freaking out,” He explained. It wasn’t in malice, he was just stating a fact, but it made Sid get defensive anyway. Kris didn’t know her.

“That’s not the point. I’m just saying that it wouldn’t have really been a fight if it wasn’t over texts or phone calls. You know what it’s like.” The raised eyebrows he got in response told him he’d have to explain. “When you and Cat have a fight or whatever and we’re on the road. Doesn’t it frustrate you that you can’t do anything because we’re miles away?”

Kris shrugged a little. “We always fix it.”

“Yeah,” Sid scoffed. “When you get back to Pittsburgh. I can’t go back to Edmonton on a whim just because I want to see her.”

“Why not?”

The smile on Kris’ face showed that he wasn’t serious, but Sid still felt like pouting a little. Of course he’d find someone he could relate to and she’d live in another country all together. Sure he’d be there a couple of times a season but it didn’t make it any easier. “Shut up, Tanger.”

He laughed, finishing his coffee. Sid’s had gone cold by now. “She lives there?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“She’s a Pens fan?”

Again, he nodded, remembering the quick flush of her cheeks, her voice carrying through his head. “Oh Captain, my Captain”. “Yeah.”

“Canadian?”

“Yes, Tanger,” He said, exasperated. “Your Papa is crazy,” He muttered in Alex’s hair, the toddler now leaning into his chest, happy just to cuddle for a minute. Sid pulled him tighter, resting a hand on his head. Alex carried on making his little toddler noises in approval.

“Well, you never tell anyone anything that goes on in your life.” He pointed a look in Kris’ direction. Kris just held his hands up in defence. “Okay, okay. You know I approve if she's Canadian. It'd never work otherwise. Who would cheer for you at the Olympics?"

“Really?” He deadpanned. “That’s what you think of?”

"... Uh, oui. This is a matter of our nation's pride, Cap."

Sid frowned a little, looking down at the little boy on his lap. “Don't patronize me, okay? We're not even together - we're not so stop looking at me like that. We're just friends but I don't know what the hell she wants from me." He was sooking and he knew it. But he had Lyndsey on his mind, all of the shit going on with his concussion, he couldn’t play, his team was playing… well, half decent hockey but nowhere near their usual standard and the holidays were just around the corner. Which reminded him of two things; he’d have to start his shopping soon and it was another year spending the holidays without someone special.

“You just need some good news,” Kris sounded out, leaning forward to squeeze Sid’s shoulder.

He sighed. “Yeah.” Good news would be nice.