Brody drummed his fingers on his knee and bounced his leg as he sat on the team bus. They'd be on their way to Philly soon and few things got the Capitals pumped like a game against the Flyers, even though it was the teams' first meeting of the season, in mid-November.

Baxter dropped into the seat beside him. "Jesus, do you never sit still?"

"Just a little extra energy, that's all." Brody shrugged. "Plenty left over for the game. Don't worry, old man. I'll cover a shift if you need a rest."

"Smart ass." Bax shook his head. "Still thinking about your musician?"

"She's not 'my' musician." Brody's phone beeped and he extracted it from his pocket to find a text from Ryan. GWU Sat 2pm. Sent flyer email. R

Baxter looked over as Brody tapped out a quick reply. "What was that?"

"Just a text from Ryan." Brody slid the phone back in his pocket.

"Who's Ryan?"

Brody gave him a wry grin. "My musician."

"A girl named Ryan?"

"Yeah. She was just letting me know when her gig was this weekend; I told her I'd show up, maybe bring some of the guys."

"Oh, man. You've got it bad." Bax elbowed him. "I told you so."

"Bax, she made it very clear that she is not interested in anything more than friends, okay? I wouldn’t mind more, but I don't go over the line when it's been laid out like that."

"I do admire a man of principle." Bax snickered when Brody rolled his eyes.

They wound their way onto I-95 North and random conversations sprouted up. Bets were made on goals, assists and fights. Then attention split between razzing Obie—Anatoli Oborotenski, the team superstar—about being married, and various other guys about their girlfriends, or lack thereof. The ribbing went on until the coach stood up and issued instructions for their arrival, then resumed when he sat down.

Baxter nudged Brody. "Good thing you're not going out with this Ryan, you'd have to put up with this shit, too."

"Hey. What?" Mark Gaines turned around and looked at them. "You're going out with Ryan? When the hell did that happen?"

"Ryan?" Cole Janizak, the team captain, leaned over from his seat. "Brody's dating a Ryan? Man, you're a trailblazer." That statement grabbed everyone's attention; Brody glared at Baxter as the catcalls and comments started rolling in.

"Thanks, Bax." Brody scowled at his friend, who just grinned, then addressed his teammates in turn. "No, Gainer, I'm not going out with Ryan." He turned to his captain. "Who, I might add, is a girl. Okay, Janny?"

"Thank God. I knew she had more sense than that." Mark grinned and sat down before Brody could reply.

"Asshole," Brody grumbled, making Baxter laugh.

"You got it bad, kid. If they're going to start giving you shit about it, you might as well go out with her and make it worth the while."

Brody grumbled some more and then pulled out his iPod. They might start giving him shit, but it didn't mean he had to listen.

x-x-x-x

Ryan sat, eyes glued to the TV, as she watched the Caps-Flyers game and munched on some chips for a snack. The camera caught Brody on the bench, talking to one of his teammates, then turning to look out over the ice.

"They're whole-grain chips, I swear," she said.

"What?" Lara looked up from her computer, where she was updating the band's Facebook and MySpace pages. "Who are you talking to?"

"What? Nobody." Ryan glanced at Lara, then back at the screen. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. You said you were eating whole-grain chips. What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Sorry." When Lara kept staring at her, Ryan gave in. "It's Brody. He likes to cook and he's always after me to eat healthier food. I saw him there and had to, I don’t know, defend myself."

"You're a lunatic."

Ryan hunched her shoulders. "I'm not! I don't know. It's nice he's concerned. And it's not like he's wrong. I have crappy eating habits."

"You have crappy cooking habits," Lara corrected. "You eat just fine if given the chance."

Ryan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I could buy better prepared stuff, like at Trader Joe's. Just a pain to get there."

"So, what's the score?" Lara went back to the computer.

"Three to two, Caps."

"Cool. Brody score?"

"No, but Mark did."

"Look at you. You're turning into a puck bunny!"

Ryan threw the bag of chips, leaving a trail of crumbs across the living room floor. "I am not."

Lara leaned back in the chair, laughing. "Oh, come on, Ryan." She wiped at her eyes. "I was kidding. And on top of that, you missed me completely."

Ryan stared at the debris on the rug. "I know. Still. I'm not a bunny, puck or otherwise."

"Come on, I'll help clean it up." Lara got up and retrieved the hand vacuum while Ryan collected the bigger pieces and put them back in the bag.

"Thanks. Sorry." Ryan dumped the bag in the trash and came back to help get the rest of the crumbs.

"No problem. We all need to toss our chips sometimes."

Ryan gave her a dark look as Lara giggled.

"Look, Ryan." Lara vacuumed up the last of the chip crumbs and put the vacuum back. "It's okay if you like him, you know that, right?"

"I do like him."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I like him fine. We're not dating, I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Lara grinned as she threw Ryan's words back at her. "I still don’t understand the problem there."

"I told you." Ryan stretched and sat back down on the couch. "I don’t want to compete with sports for someone's attention.

It's that simple."

"Yet you're watching the game."

"Yeah, so?" Ryan shrugged. "Besides, he said he'd come see us at GW. If he's going to watch me work, it's only fair if I watch him. And we've watched games before, to see Mark."

"You never defended yourself when you saw Mark on television."

Ryan scowled. "He never said anything about what I ate."

Lara laughed and went back to the computer. "You know what they say, Ryan. When you fight something like this, it means you really want it. Save yourself the stress and just go out with the guy."

"I thought you wanted to go out with him. I mean, he cooks," Ryan teased.

"Me? No way!" Lara looked stunned. "I've got Trout. I think he might propose."

"No kidding?" Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe. He takes a while to build up to these things."

Ryan couldn't help herself. "What will you say if he asks?" She gave Lara a blank, innocent look that almost hid her smile.

"Yes! What else would—?" Lara was indignant, then glared when Ryan couldn't stifle her laughter. "I ought to kill you."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Ryan shook her head and grinned. "But you walked right into that."

"Just for that, I'm leaving." Lara stood up, sniffed and put her nose in the air. "I'm going to see my boyfriend, who keeps me company and does all sorts of nice things. You can sit here alone and envy me."

"Right. I'll be sure to do that." Ryan sat back on the couch as the intermission wore on. "Tell Trout I said hi."

Lara went into her bedroom and came out with a shoulder bag. "He thinks you should go out with Brody, too, you know."

"Why in the world would Trout have any thoughts at all about me dating?"

"It's just a couple thing," Lara said as she grabbed her coat. "You know, you're part of a couple so you think everyone else should be part of one."

"I'm good, thanks. Go away." Ryan made a shooing motion. "Go hook your fish."

"If he's lucky, he can get his hook in me." Lara wiggled her eyebrows.

"Augh, no! TMI!" Ryan shook her head and covered her ears. "Go! Go!"

Lara left with a promise to pick her up for rehearsal after work the next day and Ryan waved in acknowledgment. The third period started and she was surprised to find herself tensing up. She forced herself to relax.

"You will not get worked about this game," she said aloud. There was no reason to, she decided. If anything should be stressing her, it should be the show at George Washington University in the District on Saturday. Not to mention that she hadn't followed any team in ages; why get worked up now?

Because you want Brody to win, a voice popped up in her head. She rubbed her hands over her face. It was true. She'd gotten to like Brody a lot over the last few weeks and she didn't want to see him lose. In addition, she'd taken to wondering what a kiss would be like, since he brought it up in nearly every conversation.

She shook her head and concentrated on the game. It had been a while since she'd paid close attention to any sports event, even the Super Bowl, and hockey was complicated. However, JT had gone through a major hockey phase at one point. Her father had gone along with it and so hockey had been added to the television slate, and Ryan had picked up more than she'd intended.

As she resumed watching, Brody crossed the neutral zone with the puck. He passed it and took a step to the side to avoid the Flyers' forward who had trailed him. Ryan winced as they collided anyway and the Flyer jabbed at Brody. He responded with a half-hearted push, his eyes on the puck as he kept skating to join the play.

Ryan narrowed her eyes as the Flyer kept poking at Brody and snagging his jersey, and Brody turned around. "Don't do it, Brody," she warned. "They always get the retaliation move." She knew that much from watching her brothers play games. When he jerked away and zipped towards the net, she exhaled in relief.

The puck squeaked back out to the blue line where a Caps' defenseman corralled it and held, looking over his options. Ryan checked his number, but all she knew was that it wasn't Mark. The d-man sent the puck back down into corner and Brody went after it, stabbing at it along the boards and getting it to his linemate, another player Ryan didn't know.

Damn it all, she was going to have to learn the roster. Grumbling to herself, she pulled out her phone and accessed the team's website while she continued watching.

Brody circled back and drifted towards the net, holding at the side and jostling with some large guy in orange and black. Ryan sat on the edge of her seat as the Caps set up and began cycling the puck and Brody tried to inch closer to the front of the net. A slap shot from the point came through, hit a stick and ricocheted, then hit a skate and went towards Brody. He and the Flyer both attacked the puck, and after a small flurry it skipped out above the crease.

Another Cap—Ryan saw the name Baxter on his jersey—rushed in and tried to poke it past the goaltender. She lost track of the puck, saw the goalie flop on the ice and huddle into a ball. There were some more jabs at the puck until the ref blew the whistle, and after a few seconds, the players drifted apart. Ryan sat back and took a deep breath as they went to commercial.

It was ridiculous how tense she was over the game. She'd even caught herself wincing when Brody had been checked hard into the boards. Ryan dropped her head back on the couch.

"Maybe I'd better kiss him and get it over with."