cmk418: (Default)
cmk418 ([personal profile] cmk418) wrote2019-10-29 11:24 pm

Best Laid Plans - Hockey RPF

Another Bingo prompt. This time, it's a very loose interpretation of the prompt "auctioned to another".


Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction. Things like real-life significant others, team schedules, actual team performance and current records of the Oilers and Devils, and injuries were cheerfully ignored.
Rating - Teen
Characters - Taylor Hall, Amanda Kessel, Maddie Rooney, Jordan Eberle, Connor McDavid
Pairings - Hall/Eberle
Word Count - 2830
Summary - An Islanders charity event brings out some unusual participants and generates some unexpected results

“Kessel.”

“Hall. What brings you to my doorstep?”

“I need a favor.”

Amanda sighed. “I’m not going to be your date to another charity event.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. I know better. It does involve charity.”

“How many times did you vote for me in ‘Battle of the Blades’?”

“Dozens. And I got the whole team involved too. And I told Ebby to have the Isles vote for you. So, you sort of owe us.”

“Us?”

“Me and Ebby.”

“Phil got Arizona, Pittsburgh, Toronto, and somehow, St Louis- I think that Bozak was involved- in on it, so I really don’t. Anyway, I’m here and not there, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“C’mon, Kess. I won’t check your brother into next week if you help me.”

“You couldn’t catch Phil to check him.”

Taylor shrugged. “Okay, okay. If you do this for me, I’ll owe you.”

“Owe me what?”

“Anything.” After a moment, he amended, “Within reason.”

“Well, that takes some of the fun out of it. Tell me what the favor is and I’ll tell you if I’ll do it.”

“The Isles are having a bachelor auction for charity.”

“That’s nice.”

“Nice? They’re selling Ebby to the highest bidder.”

“So, go bid.”

“I can’t bid on Ebby.”

“Well, I can’t bid on him either. I work for the Rangers now. I can’t just show up to an Islanders event throwing your money around. It is your money, right? You don’t want me to pony up my own just to make sure that your boyfriend doesn’t go to someone who would take advantage.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And, yes, it’s my money.”

“I still can’t go, but I know someone who would.”

“Who’s that?”

“Someone that I owe a favor to.”

“She’s not going to take advantage, is she, Kess?”

“That’s really up to her.”

“Amanda.”

“Go home, Hall. I’ll let you know if I can set it up.”

“Miss Rooney?” the registration person asked. Maddie nodded and signed the sheet where indicated. “Here’s your bidding number,” the registration person said, handing over the number 91. “You can take another if you like, plenty of others already have.”

“No, this is fine,” replied Maddie.

“You’re at table five. Up nice and close to the stage. Have fun.”

Maddie was glad the US Women’s National Team didn’t stoop to this level. Hall must have been a good friend to Eberle to want to spare him this humiliation. The Islanders charity didn’t care- people were opening up their pocketbooks for a good cause. Although this was a bachelor auction, anyone could participate: kids, grandmothers, men, women. Five hundred for a ticket which got Maddie a nicer dinner than she had in months and then however much was offered up for a three-hour meeting with a particular player. Hall had spotted her ten grand for it. She thought that might have been a bit exorbitant.

And then she saw him. Jordan Eberle. Her paddle was in the air before they finished saying his name. He was absolutely beautiful.

The auctioneer was rattling off numbers at a fast and furious pace. Maddie kept up as her competition began to fall away. The total was at seven thousand, then eight. Eberle grinned at her.

“Do I hear eight thousand five hundred? Going once, going twice…” Maddie held her breath. This was almost as intense as stopping Oellette on a breakaway. “Sold! To the lady in green.” Maddie had to glance down at her dress for a moment just to verify she had won. Eberle beamed at her from the stage before he left.

A few moments later, someone swooped in with the paperwork. Maddie filled out her information, was given a receipt, and was told, “Jordan will meet with you in a few minutes to set things up.”

Maddie watched as Mathew Barzal walked the runway. A woman across from her had her paddle in hand, ready to bid. “Should have waited,” the woman said.

Maddie’s attention was captured by a voice beside her. “Ms. Rooney, if you would come this way.”

Maddie rose from the table and followed the person into a backstage area. “Ms. Rooney, this is…”

“Jordan,” said Jordan Eberle. For a second, Maddie was glad that the woman had introduced her because she seemed to have forgotten her own name. Those eyes once again captivated her. “Pleased to meet you.” He shifted from one foot to the other.

“Pleased to be met,” she said, and he laughed.

“Did they go over with you…?”

“Everything. Lot of rules. And I’m sure they did a full police screening before they brought me back here.”

“They do that when you register.”

“Oh.”

“So you’re safe. Do you have a first name or am I just going to call you Ms. Rooney?”

“Oh, yeah. Madeline. But you can call me Maddie.”

“Like the American goaltender.”

That surprised her enough to get a grin from her. “Actually…”

“No. I take it back. You are dangerous.”

“Only when I’m on skates.”

“You must know Amanda Kessel then. My friend Taylor talks about her a lot. I think he may have a crush.”

“On Kess?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone has a crush on Kess.”

“He made me watch that ice dancing show. And then made me vote.”

“She had all of us doing the same. It was a good performance, but I wouldn’t have watched if it wasn’t for her.”

“Because everybody has a crush on her.”

“Something like that. Do you have a plan in mind?”

“It wasn’t on my mind originally, but would you like to see a hockey game?”

“Not really time together if you’re on the ice.”

“No, no. I was thinking more of heading down to Jersey. The Oilers are going to be in town Wednesday and Taylor and I usually meet up with them. To be honest, I feel a little conspicuous sitting in the section with the families all by myself, so this will be a nice change.”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.” They exchanged phone numbers. “Don’t they know who you are?”

“Who?”

“The other friends and family.”

“Some of them. But they don’t mess with me. Because of Taylor.”

“He’s a good friend.”

“The best. I just wish…”

“Wish what?”

“Never mind. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“It’s a date,” Maddie said, then cringed at how much like a puck-bunny she sounded. Jordan gave her a smile, then headed back to the area where the team was gathered.

Maddie threw on a USA hockey sweatshirt and jeans. She did her makeup as it was at the auction and caught her hair up in a ponytail. “How do I look?” she asked Amanda.

“Not like anyone who paid nearly nine grand for a date.”

“Sorry, I left my diamonds at home. It’s a hockey game, not a night of dinner and dancing.”

“Would you rather it be?”

“I’d rather be sitting here on the couch, watching a Hallmark Christmas marathon with you.”

“We can do that tomorrow.”

“It’s a date,” Maddie said. Somehow, it didn’t seem as cheesy this time around.

Taylor glanced toward the Devils family section in the stands during warmups. There was Jordan, all dressed up for his date, a smiling young woman by his side. He didn’t expect that she’d go through with it. She was just supposed to make the bid and then let him off the hook. Fuck Jordan for being so damn irresistible, he thought, fingers gripping his hockey stick hard enough to hurt. When the puck landed on his stick, Taylor fired it hard into the boards near where Jordan sat. It earned him a censuring look from Greene, but didn’t arrest Jordan’s attention at all.

Taylor could feel himself becoming more and more tense as the evening went on. The game was pretty much a blow-out, Schneider was shutting down the Oilers’ weapons, Hughes had a hattie, and the Jespers each contributed a goal, and all Taylor could think about was that Jordan was here on a date.

So when he lined up for the next faceoff, he looked across at the one person on the ice who looked more miserable than he did and mumbled, “Hey, Davo, wanna go?”

The puck was dropped, the faceoff cleared momentarily to an Oilers player and Taylor and Connor’s sticks were dropped at the dot as play moved down the ice. A roar went up from the crowd as the two squared off.

“What a pair of idiots,” mumbled Jordan, rubbing his temples.

“Umm, Jordan. There’s something you should know,” said Maddie.

“I already know they’re idiots.”

Jordan watched Taylor throw a punch that landed in Connor’s mid-section. Connor retaliated with a couple of rights to Taylor’s chin, then a bit of a facewash. Taylor threw a couple more punches that didn’t really connect and then moved away as Connor started chasing him backwards across the ice, yelling at him. The ref that came to break up the fight was mic’ed up and, for once, the mic was working, picking up a torrent of obscenities from Connor as well as “Get me out of here.”


“Oh, that’s not good,” said Jordan. He’d talked with Davo several times over the summer and between the injury and the season itself, the kid was not happy.

“This date is all Taylor’s doing,” Maddie continued her confession.

“It was nice of him to tell you about the auction,” Jordan said as he watched Taylor and Connor being sent to their respective penalty boxes.

“No. Amanda told me about the auction. Taylor is the one who put up the money.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Jordan, I’m a woman’s hockey player. We’re not exactly raking in the dough.”

“Right. There was that whole strike thing, and that whole other strike thing. How’s that going by the way?”

“I’m here in New Jersey instead of playing for a team. That’s how it’s going.”

“So, Taylor was trying to get me a date. Just great. Nothing like being pimped out by your best friend. Is it pimping out if he is the one paying though?”

“I don’t think so. On either count.”

Jordan sighed. “I can’t believe he did this.” He glanced down at the penalty box and met Taylor’s eyes.

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” Maddie said, “having someone that wanted to make sure no one took advantage.”

“The Isles have a whole PR crew that makes sure no one takes advantage. You think you were given instructions. We were given some as well. No public displays of affection, no…”

“Um, Jordan.”

“What?”

Maddie gestured to the JumboTron where the two of them were on the screen, pictured inside the graphic of a heart. Anyone watching could have seen Jordan mouth the words “Oh fuck.” Maddie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

From his spot in the penalty box, Taylor snapped his stick in half. He refused to glance over at Jordan again. When the time had elapsed, he skated over to the bench, handed the two pieces of his stick over and endured a lecture from Coach.

After the game was over, Taylor texted both Jordan and Connor a place where the three of them could meet for drinks. Davo texted back, “C u there. Team not talking 2 me rt now” and included a bunch of sad face emojis. There was no response from Ebby.

When he got to the bar, Davo was there, nursing a gin and tonic. “Ebby show up yet?”

“Nah, he probably went home with that cute girl he was with. You know, she sort of reminded me of somebody I’d seen before.”

“She’s an Olympic goaltender.”

“Well, that would do it.”

“American.”

Connor made a face. “Oh. That one. No wonder you don’t like her. What’s Ebs doing with her anyway?”

“I fucked up.”

“No shit,” said a voice behind him.

“Ebs!” yelled Connor, going in for a hug.

“How’s it going, Davo?”

“Great. Just fan-fuckin’-tastic.”

“I can tell. I think the whole arena could tell.”

“And all of the Sportsnet viewers that have commented on my official Twitter account in the last hour.”

“You actually look at that?”

“Only when I’m told I have to issue an official apology on it. Speaking of official apologies,” he said, turning toward Taylor, “you owe me one for that shiner I’m getting. Why the hell did you want to fight?”

“I just… had some extra energy I needed to burn off.”

“Maybe Ebs can help you with that.”

“What do you-?” Taylor began.

“Davo,” Jordan warned.

“He was mopey for three months when you left. I offered to take him out for ice cream but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Why would you take him out for ice cream? That was our thing.”

“And that’s what he said to me. There were so many ‘our things’ that I basically went to Chiarelli and begged him to bring you back.”

“That worked well.”

Connor shrugged. “Maybe it did. Look where you are now. He could have sent you to Tampa Bay or Detroit.”

Jordan said, “They weren’t on the places where I’d allow a trade. You weren’t the only one who had a talk with Chiarelli.”

Taylor stared at Jordan for a few seconds. Connor finished his drink and then slid off his barstool. “Think it’s time for me to head back to the hotel and minimize the fallout.”

“If nothing else, there’s always the Rangers,” Jordan said, smiling.

“Yeah, they’ve got that cute blonde from the All-Star Game working for them now. Wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He gave Jordan and Taylor each a half-hug and left the bar.

“Maddie was right. Everyone has a crush on Kessel.”

“I don’t,” said Taylor.

“I know that now.”

“How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date. It was the aftermath of a charity event. Which you set up.”

“I didn’t set up the event.”

“No. You set up the date.”

“You just said it wasn’t a date.”

“It wasn’t. It was two people going to a hockey game.”

“That’s a date. And she kissed you.”

“Just because that damned Kiss Cam was on us.”

“Did you kiss her?”

“No. I took her back to Kessel’s house, said good-night, and came here. Eighty-five hundred.”

“What about it?”

“I’m not paying you back.”

“I don’t expect you to. It was for a good cause.”

Their eyes locked again and Jordan realized that Taylor wasn’t just talking about a charitable contribution.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to come over to my house? I’ve got a pint of mint chocolate chip in the fridge. It’d be like old times.”

“I’m not sure I want that,” Jordan said.

“But Davo said-“

“I know what he said. But that was back then. We spent six years tiptoeing around like idiots, and maybe it took something like you breaking your stick in the penalty box for me to finally figure it out. I don’t want to keep pretending that I only had three teams on my trade list because I wanted to be able to experience everything that New York had to offer. I only wanted to experience one thing that this part of the country had to offer and that was you.”

Taylor stared at him, dumbfounded.

Jordan signaled for the bartender, ordered a shot of whiskey, and downed it.

“How long?” Taylor finally managed to squeak out.

“The first time you passed the puck to me and I scored and I swear your smile was about as big as mine, that’s when I knew.”

Taylor smiled as big and bright as he had at the moment in question. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.”

“What about you?”

“I think it was the moment you said, ‘Hi, I’m Jordan.’”

“Bullshit.”

“I got ‘hit by the thunderbolt’ like they say in ‘The Godfather’.”

“You and that movie.”

“Want me to make you an offer you can’t refuse?”

“I think you’ve done enough for tonight.”

“But…”

“I don’t put out for the first guy who pays eight point five grand for me.”

“I’m the only guy that’s paid eight point five grand for you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Ebby.”

“I’m going to go home, write up a decent sized check to whatever charity the Devils have, and then I might call this very possessive guy I know and ask him out on a proper date.”

“It’s not to a Rangers game, is it?”

“Ugh.”

“Glad we’re on the same page there.”

“Maybe dinner and a movie. We’ll see how it plays out.”

Taylor nodded and the smile was back on his face. Jordan bumped against his side so that their shoulders touched and then he headed out the door.

Taylor motioned to the bartender, who set a shot of vodka in front of him. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and offered a silent toast to himself. As far as plans went, it wasn’t perfect, but it all worked out in the end.