Stanley Is Just a Cup: McShep AU (1/4)
Title: Stanley is just a cup (Unbeta Version)
Author: MYSTIC
Email: Mysticmcknight@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/mysticmcknight/KimRstorylist.html
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: McKay/Sheppard
Category: AU, Romance
Season/Episode: None
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Archive: Area 52, Wraithbait
Summary: John’s goal is to be the best Ice Player ever…or so he thought.
Author’s Notes: I make a few references to one of my J/D stories, “Mystic Minnesota” as it just fit for me. Not necessary to read at all as it is its own story as is this also stands alone. Also, I’m not an expert in Ice Hockey, so if some of the regulations seem broken in the story, please just remember this is an AU…thank you.
Special thanks to: . Cypher, author of “Sheppard’s Goal,” which inspired this story, and for his granting me permission to write this version of the same idea.
Stanley is just a cup
The first time John Sheppard put on a pair of skates at the not-so tender age of ten years old, he thought they were the stupidest things ever. That was until his current friend at his father’s latest base introduced him to ice hockey…then, skates were better than chocolate! Unlike surfing, where you had to go to the water and then hope for good weather and good waves, as long as you had ice or a rink you could skate--fly across the ice!
At age twelve, John showed his determination in wanting to be a ice hockey player by voicing his desire to live with his grandparents in Minnesota, as he had read some of the best ice hockey players ever were from there. After two spankings, three groundings and an all out siege of his room, when he went on strike from everything until he got to go…his parents gave in. Reluctantly.
John’s father said that he was more stubborn than nature itself when he wanted something, that even a dog with a bone could be more reasoned with, and John took this as a compliment, as he knew it was very true. When he set his sights on something, he went after it full force, no holds barred. Of course, that wasn’t always a good thing, as it cost him a broken leg at age fourteen when he tried to jump four hockey nets on a dare. (Though John now points out he did clear the nets, he just hit the ice wrong.) The doctors said John would be lucky to walk without a limp, much less play hockey again, but John paid her no mind as he was still determined to be a professional hockey player.
In John’s sophomore year, his grandparents surprised him by moving to another small town called Mystic, Minnesota, which did NOT have a hockey team, and John was furious. He tried to get his parents to take him back, but they had John’s little sister Christina and reminded him of how he said he wanted to be with his grandparents and he had to accept the good with the bad of that decision. He swore he’d never forgive his family for ruining his life!
By age sixteen, John not only walked, ran, jumped and flew on skates again, but he had forgiven his grandparents for his tiny high school had managed to find the world’s best coach ever! Coach Jack O’Neill was a marvel at the game, and though John only made Junior Varsity that year, which considering he wasn’t supposed to ever be skating again, he thought wasn’t too bad, he was determined to fix that little error the following year.
In 1998, one of the most memorable years of John’s life, John Sheppard faced barely making the varsity team as his leg still gave him trouble, the death of a friend in a game gone haywire, and the Mystic Warriors becoming state champions with an 18-0 shutout of the other team. One hat trick belonged to him and, to the surprise of many, John had been named MVP, having stepped up to the plate and motivated his team after the death of one of their mates; it’s when he learned his first lesson in the hardship that comes with leadership.
From that point on, John Sheppard’s life had been pretty much on track. The only side bar had been his acceptance that he was gay. Thankfully, since his Coach and all time hero was also gay, it made life when he came out to his family a whole lot easier, in that he had a place to stay when his grandfather kicked him out of the house for a month. Thankfully, Jack O’Neill was also a good man and a good friend to his team, and helped smooth things over for John.
Yep, John Sheppard went to the University of Minnesota and pulled off his next hat trick, becoming captain of the team, getting his BS in Applied Mathematics, and getting offered a shot at going pro. John was flying high, and in a letter to Jack, as he felt closer to the older man than his family at the time, he told Jack that it was all arranged. He’d go pro for a few years, do some endorsements, win a few Stanley Cups and enjoy life, while saving for his retirement. Then he’d settle down with some nice guy and perhaps consider a family. Before then, it would be hockey 24/7, just the way John wanted it. That night John went to bed with one of his male groupies and a few beers, feeling on top of the world.
************
Four Years later
“Come on, what the hell is your problem, you got lead in your skates?” John shouted from across the ice as his team mate, number 54 (also known as Harris), had let his man get ahead of him and score, making the game 3-7, NOT in the White Wings, favor…again!
“What’s the matter, Sheppard, getting slow in your old age?” ragged one of the guys from the other team. John decided wasn’t worth the effort of beating the crap out of him, especially when he saw an opportunity to get the puck and possibly score. A nice body check later, John had the puck under his control as he flew down the ice, knowing his team would try to keep the other guys off his back, but he wasn’t counting on it. He saw the duo heading his way and knowing even without seeing that the clock was winding down, he pulled back, slid to a quick stop, slapped the puck as hard as he could and watched as it flew passed the two men. Just missing the goalie’s glove, it hit the back of the net for an ending score of 4-7. It wasn’t a win, but still a victory for John, for inside he was getting a bit depressed. He’d been playing professional hockey for a few years now and not once did any of the teams he played for make it even CLOSE to the Stanley Cup. Plus, at twenty-five, his leg was starting to give him hell from when it was shattered so long ago, and he was worried he didn’t have much time left and suddenly felt very old.
“Sheppard!”
John shook out of his thoughts and saw that the team had already headed in, and most of the crowd was already leaving, though a few were hanging where they hoped to get an autograph from someone. He saw Coach Timmons calling him over, so pushed himself in that direction, letting the mouth guard fall to his chin. “You want me, Coach?”
“Yeah, after you get changed, you’re wanted up in the office. Also, great shot, though it didn’t follow any of the game plans, but I’m not complaining,” the older man grinned, patting Sheppard on the back, before heading to the locker room.
John beamed under the praise as he headed toward the locker room, even happier when asked for his autograph by a few women--that was, until some snot-nosed kid, the girl’s younger brother, jeered at him.
“Your shot was nothing, it wouldn’t have gotten passed McKay,” the boy shouted.
The young women looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, he’s just…ah…”
“It’s okay,” John said and looked up to the boy, for that name was something he was hearing more and more of lately. “So, this…McKay?” he asked, sounding ignorant, for he was.
The boy gawked at him, “You mean you haven’t heard of No Way McKay! Goalie for the Canadian Pegasus team that to date no one has scored off of?”
John thought about it, and the Pegasus team was new, and, come to mention it, he had heard of some rumors about their goalie being next to impossible to score on. John gave the boy and the fans a big grin, “Well, if I ever have the chance to meet this McKay, I’m sure I’ll remedy that soon enough,” he boasted and would have said more, but security stepped in with orders from the coach for him and the few other members giving autographs to get their butts in the locker room.
John entered the locker room and noticed the tension and knew it was because they lost, but he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t do his best. He stripped off his gear wrapped up in a towel, and headed to the showers where some of the guys were still griping about the game. “Any of you hear about some goalie named McKay?” he asked while getting warm under the shower head.
“Yeah, some Canuk from way up north,” Jameson shouted. “He plays for that new team, Pen…something.”
“Pegasus,” John corrected. “Yeah,” he laughed. “Some kid was lecturing me on how No Way McKay was some gift to goalies everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t laugh,” interjected Woodman, as he finished up. “So far this season every team that’s gone up against the Pegasus team has been shut out.”
The others in the shower, along with John, looked at Woodman as if he was crazy or just to see if he was pulling their legs. Seeing he was serious as he walked away shaking his head, John had to wonder just who this McKay fellow was, for he had become his newest nemesis…for no one was going to get in between him and the Stanley Cup this year, even if he had to find a way to carry the stupid White Wings on his back!
**********
“Transferred?” Sheppard said in shock. “As in…traded?” He looked at the team manager who didn’t have a sense of humor and John found it hard to breathe. Until now, if he went to a different team, it was by his choice. He had never been traded, like a piece of meat. “How…who….WHY?”
Jerry Maxwell, manager for the White Wings gave a soft sigh, “The team owner was given an offer he couldn’t refuse, plus, I wouldn’t take it too hard once you hear who you’ll be playing for,” he smiled, hoping to ease the semi-bad news.
“Which team?” John asked, for there were only a few teams he’d consider playing with, the White Wings with all its flaws was among them.
“The Atlantis Arctics,” Jerry said, a touch of envy in his voice.
John blinked, and then shook his head, for that couldn’t be right. The Atlantis Arctics were a top ten team. John had been trying for years to get on one of those teams, and to land a team with an actual shot at the Cup? “You’re serious?” John asked, his shock easing into anticipation.
“I am, plus there is a salary increase for you to compensate for the move,” Jerry said as he handed over a folder of papers. “You’ve got two weeks before you have to report. The team owner, Elizabeth Weir, wants you rested and has included a moving voucher to aid with any expenses you may have…I say you made out like a bandit on this one, Sheppard.”
“I…I didn’t see this coming…I…” Sheppard was speechless. He had thought by now he’d have a manager and endorsements coming out of his ears, but the reality of professional hockey was only a handful, even with a Stanley Cup under their belt, got those. John was freelance like most players, and though the option to be traded was always part of the contract, he never thought he’d get traded, much less upward.
John took the folder and saw he was going to Colorado and smiled, for he’d be closer to his old stomping ground. He also saw that after a week of practice with the team to get familiar with each other, his first game was against the Canadian Pegasus team. John felt this had to be an omen…a good omen and burst out laughing. His time had finally arrived!
*************
It wasn’t often that John got to attend a game as a spectator, but between his sunglasses and a Denver Avalanche hat, he was able to blend in the crowd as he sat to watch the second top ten team, also located here in Colorado face off against Pegasus, as he was itching to get a look at this McKay fellow.
There were the typical cheers and jeers as both teams hit the ice. John was a bit surprised to notice a few oddities with the Canadian team. One, their center was of rather short and slim build, as was one of their wings. Another defensive member was a hulk, but that wasn’t too surprising…not like discovering why the center was so short…she was a girl!
As for this McKay, John couldn’t see much from his end of the ring, and with padding, the guy looked like any other goalie; one with the ice and trying to look intimidating.
John snickered to himself, for there was no way such a team could possibly be half as good as he was hearing, though he didn’t look up their numbers, having been busy trying to move on such short notice and get settled…but still? He watched the game begin and saw the center, Teyla Emmagan, do a body check that would be the envy of any player (and tough to receive) and took command of the ice early.
By the end of the game, John’s jaw was on the ground, for not only did such an oddity of a team win, it was a total shutout! Nothing got by McKay, not even close. It was like he could predict where the puck was going to be and was right there to stop it. It was there and then that John decided he needed to meet this man, his curiosity getting the better of him.
His ID card got him in the locker room, as this was the same rink the Atlantis Arctics would be using for home games until their new home rink in Colorado Springs was finished. He smiled at a few folks he knew, for he had been playing for a few years and charmed his way around to get to the other team’s locker room, where a band of reporters were circling.
“McKay!” someone shouted.
John, not ready to be in the limelight, kept to the shadows, but shifted around to see if he could see this McKay fellow, and arched a brow when he did see the man, as he stopped to talk with the reporter. The man was about his age, had the bluest eyes ever and a crooked mouth, a ski slope nose, broad shoulders that he didn’t quite fill out and apparently a big mouth, as John listed to the man’s reply when asked about the other team.
“Those imbeciles couldn’t have been more predictable if they’d tried,” McKay snorted. He was going to say more, but an attractive slim blond haired woman, dressed in a business suit shifted up to Rodney and placed an arm around his shoulder’s pulling him away from the press.
John didn’t know why, but for some reason he found he didn’t like that woman in the slightest. He didn’t stick around to hear anymore, for he didn’t want to be noticed by anyone and have a tabloid state he was spying or something stupid, so he headed to his new apartment, determined to forget this McKay nonsense and focus on his job…winning!
*************
John liked his new teammates. Lorne was down to earth, Bates was a bit high strung and a stickler for the regs, but always there when needed. Coach Caldwell was a pain the butt, but what coach wasn’t? Stackhouse and Markham were a great team for defense, moving like twins on the ice, always in sync with each other. John felt he actually had a shot at the Cup this year with his new team, as he felt he fit in great during their practice sessions, but today would be the real test. Today was their first game in what was still an early season where anything could happen.
He and the others warmed up on the ice as they saw the other team, Pegasus, arrive to do the same. He heard Bates sneer at seeing Emmagan on the ice. John shook his head, “Don’t count her out so easily. She got where she’s at for being damn good and I’ve seen her play…watch out for her body checks, fellas,” he grinned.
Feeling ‘neighborly’, John skated over to say hello. “Hey,” he greeted, getting a glare from the Hulk, whose shirt said Dex, and a few hellos from everyone else. Turned out the second short person was foreign, from Europe, with a strange accent.
“What do you want?” McKay asked, his mouth turned down in a frown, though his eyes sparked with smugness. “Want to see what our goal looks like now, as you won’t be seeing much of it…other than the back of it, that is,” he said, folding his arms over his chest, raising his chin in defiance.
John couldn’t help it. He should be angered by such a smug and arrogant comment, but somehow he only found it made McKay--Rodney McKay as he later discovered--look rather cute. John grinned and noticed how that irritated McKay and easily deduced that most folks’ reactions probably were predictable and by NOT doing so, he would really get to this man. “Not really, I came to say hello, but it is a nice net,” John said as he skated over and fingered the material.
Rodney looked flustered, but just then both teams were called, for they had to go finish getting ready as the crowds were arriving and the game was going to start soon. “Well, enjoy the moment, you won’t get another one,” McKay vowed and stormed off.
John saw the blond woman on the side lines, along with a slightly older man that needed a shave. “Who’s that?” he asked the short guy, Zelenka.
“Coach Beckett, or the team manager, Chaya Atar?” Radek Zelenka asked, for he found John a nice guy and saw no reason to be rude to everyone they met.
“Oh, she’s the team manager?” John asked, feeling relieved for some reason.
“Give it up, Sheppard,” the hulk, Dex, said as he skated up to Zelenka, nodding with his chin it was time to go. “She’s out of your league,” he added as the two men headed off.
“What are you doing?” Lorne asked, seeing Sheppard chatting with the other team. He saw John staring and thought that out of the three people now gathered in a minor shouting match, the goalie, a slightly older man and an attractive woman, felt he knew. “Oh, eyes for the blond huh?”
John didn’t advertise his sexuality, though he didn’t go out of his way to hide it either. He did know that it was too early with this new team to mention it, for though the world was getting better in accepting gays in sports and women in hockey, it was still an upward battle. “I like blue eyes,” he said cryptically and headed to the locker room.
By the end of that night, John was cursing the name McKay, for not only did he shut them down and out, his voice still rung in John’s ears with his sarcastic comment about lack of skill and ability to shoot a puck straight. He also couldn’t forget the sparkling blue eyes he’d spotted under the mask during the few moments they were at a standstill for a change over whenever John was close to the net.
Not able to sleep, John went to his desk and booted up his PC and got the schedule of games ahead of them along with all the other teams. He mapped out that if the Atlantis Arctics won the next four games, they’d meet the Pegasus team twice more. Even if they lost those, and won the others, they would still have a shot at the Stanley Cup. John shutdown his PC and headed back to bed smiling, and wondered if it was the shot at the Cup that was making him happy or the chance to meet up with McKay again…he fell asleep still debating that question.
****End of Chapter One****
(Next Chapter)
Author: MYSTIC
Email: Mysticmcknight@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/mysticmcknight/KimRstorylist.html
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: McKay/Sheppard
Category: AU, Romance
Season/Episode: None
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Archive: Area 52, Wraithbait
Summary: John’s goal is to be the best Ice Player ever…or so he thought.
Author’s Notes: I make a few references to one of my J/D stories, “Mystic Minnesota” as it just fit for me. Not necessary to read at all as it is its own story as is this also stands alone. Also, I’m not an expert in Ice Hockey, so if some of the regulations seem broken in the story, please just remember this is an AU…thank you.
Special thanks to: . Cypher, author of “Sheppard’s Goal,” which inspired this story, and for his granting me permission to write this version of the same idea.
Stanley is just a cup
The first time John Sheppard put on a pair of skates at the not-so tender age of ten years old, he thought they were the stupidest things ever. That was until his current friend at his father’s latest base introduced him to ice hockey…then, skates were better than chocolate! Unlike surfing, where you had to go to the water and then hope for good weather and good waves, as long as you had ice or a rink you could skate--fly across the ice!
At age twelve, John showed his determination in wanting to be a ice hockey player by voicing his desire to live with his grandparents in Minnesota, as he had read some of the best ice hockey players ever were from there. After two spankings, three groundings and an all out siege of his room, when he went on strike from everything until he got to go…his parents gave in. Reluctantly.
John’s father said that he was more stubborn than nature itself when he wanted something, that even a dog with a bone could be more reasoned with, and John took this as a compliment, as he knew it was very true. When he set his sights on something, he went after it full force, no holds barred. Of course, that wasn’t always a good thing, as it cost him a broken leg at age fourteen when he tried to jump four hockey nets on a dare. (Though John now points out he did clear the nets, he just hit the ice wrong.) The doctors said John would be lucky to walk without a limp, much less play hockey again, but John paid her no mind as he was still determined to be a professional hockey player.
In John’s sophomore year, his grandparents surprised him by moving to another small town called Mystic, Minnesota, which did NOT have a hockey team, and John was furious. He tried to get his parents to take him back, but they had John’s little sister Christina and reminded him of how he said he wanted to be with his grandparents and he had to accept the good with the bad of that decision. He swore he’d never forgive his family for ruining his life!
By age sixteen, John not only walked, ran, jumped and flew on skates again, but he had forgiven his grandparents for his tiny high school had managed to find the world’s best coach ever! Coach Jack O’Neill was a marvel at the game, and though John only made Junior Varsity that year, which considering he wasn’t supposed to ever be skating again, he thought wasn’t too bad, he was determined to fix that little error the following year.
In 1998, one of the most memorable years of John’s life, John Sheppard faced barely making the varsity team as his leg still gave him trouble, the death of a friend in a game gone haywire, and the Mystic Warriors becoming state champions with an 18-0 shutout of the other team. One hat trick belonged to him and, to the surprise of many, John had been named MVP, having stepped up to the plate and motivated his team after the death of one of their mates; it’s when he learned his first lesson in the hardship that comes with leadership.
From that point on, John Sheppard’s life had been pretty much on track. The only side bar had been his acceptance that he was gay. Thankfully, since his Coach and all time hero was also gay, it made life when he came out to his family a whole lot easier, in that he had a place to stay when his grandfather kicked him out of the house for a month. Thankfully, Jack O’Neill was also a good man and a good friend to his team, and helped smooth things over for John.
Yep, John Sheppard went to the University of Minnesota and pulled off his next hat trick, becoming captain of the team, getting his BS in Applied Mathematics, and getting offered a shot at going pro. John was flying high, and in a letter to Jack, as he felt closer to the older man than his family at the time, he told Jack that it was all arranged. He’d go pro for a few years, do some endorsements, win a few Stanley Cups and enjoy life, while saving for his retirement. Then he’d settle down with some nice guy and perhaps consider a family. Before then, it would be hockey 24/7, just the way John wanted it. That night John went to bed with one of his male groupies and a few beers, feeling on top of the world.
************
Four Years later
“Come on, what the hell is your problem, you got lead in your skates?” John shouted from across the ice as his team mate, number 54 (also known as Harris), had let his man get ahead of him and score, making the game 3-7, NOT in the White Wings, favor…again!
“What’s the matter, Sheppard, getting slow in your old age?” ragged one of the guys from the other team. John decided wasn’t worth the effort of beating the crap out of him, especially when he saw an opportunity to get the puck and possibly score. A nice body check later, John had the puck under his control as he flew down the ice, knowing his team would try to keep the other guys off his back, but he wasn’t counting on it. He saw the duo heading his way and knowing even without seeing that the clock was winding down, he pulled back, slid to a quick stop, slapped the puck as hard as he could and watched as it flew passed the two men. Just missing the goalie’s glove, it hit the back of the net for an ending score of 4-7. It wasn’t a win, but still a victory for John, for inside he was getting a bit depressed. He’d been playing professional hockey for a few years now and not once did any of the teams he played for make it even CLOSE to the Stanley Cup. Plus, at twenty-five, his leg was starting to give him hell from when it was shattered so long ago, and he was worried he didn’t have much time left and suddenly felt very old.
“Sheppard!”
John shook out of his thoughts and saw that the team had already headed in, and most of the crowd was already leaving, though a few were hanging where they hoped to get an autograph from someone. He saw Coach Timmons calling him over, so pushed himself in that direction, letting the mouth guard fall to his chin. “You want me, Coach?”
“Yeah, after you get changed, you’re wanted up in the office. Also, great shot, though it didn’t follow any of the game plans, but I’m not complaining,” the older man grinned, patting Sheppard on the back, before heading to the locker room.
John beamed under the praise as he headed toward the locker room, even happier when asked for his autograph by a few women--that was, until some snot-nosed kid, the girl’s younger brother, jeered at him.
“Your shot was nothing, it wouldn’t have gotten passed McKay,” the boy shouted.
The young women looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, he’s just…ah…”
“It’s okay,” John said and looked up to the boy, for that name was something he was hearing more and more of lately. “So, this…McKay?” he asked, sounding ignorant, for he was.
The boy gawked at him, “You mean you haven’t heard of No Way McKay! Goalie for the Canadian Pegasus team that to date no one has scored off of?”
John thought about it, and the Pegasus team was new, and, come to mention it, he had heard of some rumors about their goalie being next to impossible to score on. John gave the boy and the fans a big grin, “Well, if I ever have the chance to meet this McKay, I’m sure I’ll remedy that soon enough,” he boasted and would have said more, but security stepped in with orders from the coach for him and the few other members giving autographs to get their butts in the locker room.
John entered the locker room and noticed the tension and knew it was because they lost, but he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t do his best. He stripped off his gear wrapped up in a towel, and headed to the showers where some of the guys were still griping about the game. “Any of you hear about some goalie named McKay?” he asked while getting warm under the shower head.
“Yeah, some Canuk from way up north,” Jameson shouted. “He plays for that new team, Pen…something.”
“Pegasus,” John corrected. “Yeah,” he laughed. “Some kid was lecturing me on how No Way McKay was some gift to goalies everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t laugh,” interjected Woodman, as he finished up. “So far this season every team that’s gone up against the Pegasus team has been shut out.”
The others in the shower, along with John, looked at Woodman as if he was crazy or just to see if he was pulling their legs. Seeing he was serious as he walked away shaking his head, John had to wonder just who this McKay fellow was, for he had become his newest nemesis…for no one was going to get in between him and the Stanley Cup this year, even if he had to find a way to carry the stupid White Wings on his back!
**********
“Transferred?” Sheppard said in shock. “As in…traded?” He looked at the team manager who didn’t have a sense of humor and John found it hard to breathe. Until now, if he went to a different team, it was by his choice. He had never been traded, like a piece of meat. “How…who….WHY?”
Jerry Maxwell, manager for the White Wings gave a soft sigh, “The team owner was given an offer he couldn’t refuse, plus, I wouldn’t take it too hard once you hear who you’ll be playing for,” he smiled, hoping to ease the semi-bad news.
“Which team?” John asked, for there were only a few teams he’d consider playing with, the White Wings with all its flaws was among them.
“The Atlantis Arctics,” Jerry said, a touch of envy in his voice.
John blinked, and then shook his head, for that couldn’t be right. The Atlantis Arctics were a top ten team. John had been trying for years to get on one of those teams, and to land a team with an actual shot at the Cup? “You’re serious?” John asked, his shock easing into anticipation.
“I am, plus there is a salary increase for you to compensate for the move,” Jerry said as he handed over a folder of papers. “You’ve got two weeks before you have to report. The team owner, Elizabeth Weir, wants you rested and has included a moving voucher to aid with any expenses you may have…I say you made out like a bandit on this one, Sheppard.”
“I…I didn’t see this coming…I…” Sheppard was speechless. He had thought by now he’d have a manager and endorsements coming out of his ears, but the reality of professional hockey was only a handful, even with a Stanley Cup under their belt, got those. John was freelance like most players, and though the option to be traded was always part of the contract, he never thought he’d get traded, much less upward.
John took the folder and saw he was going to Colorado and smiled, for he’d be closer to his old stomping ground. He also saw that after a week of practice with the team to get familiar with each other, his first game was against the Canadian Pegasus team. John felt this had to be an omen…a good omen and burst out laughing. His time had finally arrived!
*************
It wasn’t often that John got to attend a game as a spectator, but between his sunglasses and a Denver Avalanche hat, he was able to blend in the crowd as he sat to watch the second top ten team, also located here in Colorado face off against Pegasus, as he was itching to get a look at this McKay fellow.
There were the typical cheers and jeers as both teams hit the ice. John was a bit surprised to notice a few oddities with the Canadian team. One, their center was of rather short and slim build, as was one of their wings. Another defensive member was a hulk, but that wasn’t too surprising…not like discovering why the center was so short…she was a girl!
As for this McKay, John couldn’t see much from his end of the ring, and with padding, the guy looked like any other goalie; one with the ice and trying to look intimidating.
John snickered to himself, for there was no way such a team could possibly be half as good as he was hearing, though he didn’t look up their numbers, having been busy trying to move on such short notice and get settled…but still? He watched the game begin and saw the center, Teyla Emmagan, do a body check that would be the envy of any player (and tough to receive) and took command of the ice early.
By the end of the game, John’s jaw was on the ground, for not only did such an oddity of a team win, it was a total shutout! Nothing got by McKay, not even close. It was like he could predict where the puck was going to be and was right there to stop it. It was there and then that John decided he needed to meet this man, his curiosity getting the better of him.
His ID card got him in the locker room, as this was the same rink the Atlantis Arctics would be using for home games until their new home rink in Colorado Springs was finished. He smiled at a few folks he knew, for he had been playing for a few years and charmed his way around to get to the other team’s locker room, where a band of reporters were circling.
“McKay!” someone shouted.
John, not ready to be in the limelight, kept to the shadows, but shifted around to see if he could see this McKay fellow, and arched a brow when he did see the man, as he stopped to talk with the reporter. The man was about his age, had the bluest eyes ever and a crooked mouth, a ski slope nose, broad shoulders that he didn’t quite fill out and apparently a big mouth, as John listed to the man’s reply when asked about the other team.
“Those imbeciles couldn’t have been more predictable if they’d tried,” McKay snorted. He was going to say more, but an attractive slim blond haired woman, dressed in a business suit shifted up to Rodney and placed an arm around his shoulder’s pulling him away from the press.
John didn’t know why, but for some reason he found he didn’t like that woman in the slightest. He didn’t stick around to hear anymore, for he didn’t want to be noticed by anyone and have a tabloid state he was spying or something stupid, so he headed to his new apartment, determined to forget this McKay nonsense and focus on his job…winning!
*************
John liked his new teammates. Lorne was down to earth, Bates was a bit high strung and a stickler for the regs, but always there when needed. Coach Caldwell was a pain the butt, but what coach wasn’t? Stackhouse and Markham were a great team for defense, moving like twins on the ice, always in sync with each other. John felt he actually had a shot at the Cup this year with his new team, as he felt he fit in great during their practice sessions, but today would be the real test. Today was their first game in what was still an early season where anything could happen.
He and the others warmed up on the ice as they saw the other team, Pegasus, arrive to do the same. He heard Bates sneer at seeing Emmagan on the ice. John shook his head, “Don’t count her out so easily. She got where she’s at for being damn good and I’ve seen her play…watch out for her body checks, fellas,” he grinned.
Feeling ‘neighborly’, John skated over to say hello. “Hey,” he greeted, getting a glare from the Hulk, whose shirt said Dex, and a few hellos from everyone else. Turned out the second short person was foreign, from Europe, with a strange accent.
“What do you want?” McKay asked, his mouth turned down in a frown, though his eyes sparked with smugness. “Want to see what our goal looks like now, as you won’t be seeing much of it…other than the back of it, that is,” he said, folding his arms over his chest, raising his chin in defiance.
John couldn’t help it. He should be angered by such a smug and arrogant comment, but somehow he only found it made McKay--Rodney McKay as he later discovered--look rather cute. John grinned and noticed how that irritated McKay and easily deduced that most folks’ reactions probably were predictable and by NOT doing so, he would really get to this man. “Not really, I came to say hello, but it is a nice net,” John said as he skated over and fingered the material.
Rodney looked flustered, but just then both teams were called, for they had to go finish getting ready as the crowds were arriving and the game was going to start soon. “Well, enjoy the moment, you won’t get another one,” McKay vowed and stormed off.
John saw the blond woman on the side lines, along with a slightly older man that needed a shave. “Who’s that?” he asked the short guy, Zelenka.
“Coach Beckett, or the team manager, Chaya Atar?” Radek Zelenka asked, for he found John a nice guy and saw no reason to be rude to everyone they met.
“Oh, she’s the team manager?” John asked, feeling relieved for some reason.
“Give it up, Sheppard,” the hulk, Dex, said as he skated up to Zelenka, nodding with his chin it was time to go. “She’s out of your league,” he added as the two men headed off.
“What are you doing?” Lorne asked, seeing Sheppard chatting with the other team. He saw John staring and thought that out of the three people now gathered in a minor shouting match, the goalie, a slightly older man and an attractive woman, felt he knew. “Oh, eyes for the blond huh?”
John didn’t advertise his sexuality, though he didn’t go out of his way to hide it either. He did know that it was too early with this new team to mention it, for though the world was getting better in accepting gays in sports and women in hockey, it was still an upward battle. “I like blue eyes,” he said cryptically and headed to the locker room.
By the end of that night, John was cursing the name McKay, for not only did he shut them down and out, his voice still rung in John’s ears with his sarcastic comment about lack of skill and ability to shoot a puck straight. He also couldn’t forget the sparkling blue eyes he’d spotted under the mask during the few moments they were at a standstill for a change over whenever John was close to the net.
Not able to sleep, John went to his desk and booted up his PC and got the schedule of games ahead of them along with all the other teams. He mapped out that if the Atlantis Arctics won the next four games, they’d meet the Pegasus team twice more. Even if they lost those, and won the others, they would still have a shot at the Stanley Cup. John shutdown his PC and headed back to bed smiling, and wondered if it was the shot at the Cup that was making him happy or the chance to meet up with McKay again…he fell asleep still debating that question.
****End of Chapter One****
(Next Chapter)