"Finally."

James was five drinks in and life was good. Real good. He had his teammates with him, the prospect of one more preliminary round to go before the Stanley Cup finals, and he was surrounded by free liquor, plenty of eye candy, and zero worries in the world.

He never felt the vibrations of his cell phone in his pocket.

From where he stood, he watched his boys laughing and enjoying the well-deserved celebration around him. He laughed with them, chirped them, bought a round of shots for them, and then bought two more rounds for good measure.

The sight was funny, too. To James, they looked like a strange bunch now that they all had healthy playoff beards; the contrast of their sharp dress suits with their longer, fuller beards gave him a chuckle. He downed a drink in honor of the group, then downed another in honor of the spectacular beard he was sporting. He was of the mind that night that any reason was cause for celebration.

Nearby, a group of attractive girls stood chatting with some of the others. They were done up and done up well, and James wondered who in the group had chosen them to come up. A few were definitely his type...or what used to be his type. Even through the fuzz and fog of his very established buzz, James knew his limits. He could look, but he definitely could not - and would not - touch.

This became harder as one of the girls singled him out. She had shoulder length dark hair and blue eyes; that much he could tell in the mixed lighting of the bar. She made her way over to where he was standing with a few others at a taller table, their laughter silenced momentarily as she appeared. James put on the most charming smile he could, his eyes lowering instinctively to the curve of the her ample chest.

"Hi guys" she said sweetly, eyes going specifically to James. "Hi Nealer."

He smiled, leaning one elbow against the table. "Hey there." Glancing sideways, he smirked at the others around the table as they started to chuckle.

"You here with anyone?" she asked, thick eyelashes batting playfully.

"Nope. You?" James watched her shake her head. He heard Geno laughing next to him, then felt his elbow nudge him in the side.

"Play easy, Nealsy" he told him as he lifted his beer bottle to his mouth.

James didn't need to play. James wasn't sure he wanted to play. The girl was hot, sure, but she was no Ali.

"He's got a girlfriend" Paul said, speaking up. "And she's a keeper."

"Dude." James said it under his breath, but he shot him a glare. Not only did he not need a parent to protect him, he didn't need Paulie telling the chick something he could have told her himself.

"Just helping ya out man."

James lifted his glass, shaking the ice loose for a piece to chew. "Uh huh."

The brunette stood smiling between them, seemingly unaffected by the news. Geno kept drinking, his smile slightly awkward at the amount of tension building.

The brunette took a step closer to James, her perfectly pout lips still giving him that confident smile. "Sooo....where isyour girlfriend?"

He stared at her, impressed by her boldness. "She's visiting her--"

"--She come later" Geno added quickly, stepping forward. He nodded sideways at James. "She taking us home. Works late tonight."

James stared at him, brows wrinkled, just as Geno gave him a big smile. Where the hell did that come from?

The girl's face fell into an exaggerated frown. "Aww, well that's too bad." She flipped her hair away from her chest, emphasizing the cleavage that was quite visible, even without moving her hair. "You know, that she couldn't be here to celebrate, I mean."

James took another drink, chewing one of the ice cubes, still staring at Geno. Look at these guys. Stepping up for me. Do they REALLY think I'd do something?

"You come with me." Geno lifted an arm around the brunette's shoulders, giving her a squeeze. "We get drink refills, we talk. Yes?"

Excited that one of them had taken her bait, she grinned and slipped her hand around the tall Russian's waist. "Lead the way, baby."

James' eyes widened, both in confusion and distaste for the girl calling Geno baby. He glanced sideways to find Paulie staring at him and laughing. "What?"

"Close call."

"Not the slightest." James placed both elbows on the table and clutched his glass loosely. "I mean, maybe back in the day, I might have--"

"--Nealer. Relax." The tone of Paul's good-natured humor was still alive in his voice. "But I do have to ask: why isn't Ali here tonight? And why hasn't she come out since that one night?"

James sighed. Pressure. All pressure I don't need right now. "I don't know man, you know how it goes. Life just gets away from you....and with playoffs and all..."

"You're not stringing her along, are you?"

"No??" He stood taller, slightly offended at Paul's question. "Believe it or not, I actually love her."

"And she knows this?"

"Yeah, we both said it to one another" James answered proudly. "And she gave me a key to her place."

Paul's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "Whoa, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"So why isn't she here?"

James blinked, too buzzed to try and figure out where Paulie was going with this. "She went home to visit her parents and hang with some friends for the weekend." Suddenly, heat was rising from beneath his button down shirt; his collar uncomfortably tight. "I told her it'd be good if she went."

"Or is it because you've been too busy for her lately?"

"What the fuck, man?" James felt cornered. His nerves were firing off at rapid speed as his friend got to the heart of the matter.

Paul gave a casual shrug. "Just trying to help you sort it out, that's all. It's all about balance."

Standing there silently, James let his gaze wander across the crowd gathered around him. He tried to remember the last time he and Ali spent time together, although he had to muscle through the liquor-filled haze in his mind to do so.

Was it a week ago?
Two weeks?

Dammit....

He looked at Paulie again. "So it's been noticeable?"

Paul nodded, his face serious. "To me it has been. Especially knowing how into this girl you were just a couple weeks ago."

"I AM still into her" James said defensively. You have no idea how into her I am. He wished he knew how to tell Paul this, but clearly he was missing something. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd been so focused on the game and the team that he'd lost track of Ali...realizing that maybe he'd made her a little too second priority. Knowing how in tune they were with one another, James honestly didn't think it was that much of a problem. He knew she'd support him, no matter what. Except now, he began to second-guess all his actions.

As he and Paul stood at the table, James felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. By the time he fished it out, a message popped up on the screen letting him know he had a voicemail from Ali.....in addition to four missed calls.

He clenched his jaw, pissed at himself for missing all of them. He chugged the last of his drink, wondering how he'd gone so wrong.

"I'll be back" he told Paul, then headed for the exit.

* * *

Ali slammed her cell phone on the bar, face down. Tears stung in her eyes as fierce heat radiated from her.

Four fucking phone calls and not one of them answered. Not a one.

"I need another shot" she said, not looking at Brittany. Her jaw was set; her mind was spinning. What the fuck is so important that he can't even pick up the phone?

Brittany hesitated. "I'm not sure you need another--"

"--Just get me another, would you?"

Sitting on the stool next to her, Brittany moved her head back a little. "Are you sure he just isn't still out with his team or something? Maybe the music is too loud and he can't--"

Ali lifted her hand, her irritation unquestionable. "No. It's not just tonight, Britt. It's the past couple of weeks. Everything's been about him, and hockey, and the playoffs, and when he can talk or when he can visit." She turned to look at her friend. "It's like....ever since we said we loved one another, it hasn't been the same."

The green shade of Brittany's eyes sharpened a little when she heard this. "Men get so fucking freaked out by this shit."

That's what I'm wondering, Ali thought sadly. If he'd just pick up the phone, I would ask him. I'd sort this out right now.

She knew she was letting the liquor she consumed exaggerate her anger with him. But fear was a powerful catalyst, and her fear of losing James was a groundswell building to some unknown crescendo. She was letting it get the best of her; spiraling quicker than she could control.

He's not like the rest, Allison. He's not going to lie to you and run like the others have.
He meant it when he said he loved you. You saw it in his eyes.

Brittany paid the bartender for their next round of shots and apprehensively slid the tiny glass towards Ali. "After this, I'm cutting you off. If I don't, I know you'll just regret all this in the morning."

Not giving much care to her words, Ali took the shot and downed it as easily as the others. It burned on the way down, but felt good. She wanted to feel it burn. She wanted to hurt. She needed it.

Looking down, Ali stared at her phone as she felt her worries swirling around her. One more time. Just one more time. Maybe he'll pick up.

Nearby, Brittany watched as Ali lifted her cell phone and dialed James again. "What are you doing now?" She saw the deep chocolate hue of Ali's eyes flicker angrily.

"Trying him one more time."

Pressing the phone to her ear, Ali waited through the rings. One...then two...then three...

I swear to god, James.

Four rings.

Ali's knee started to bob.

Five rings.

"You have reached the voice mail inbox of...James Neal...Please leave a message after the tone."

Ali inhaled deep and waited for the tone to finish.

"Fuck you, James" she said, her anger pouring fourth. "You're just like all the rest, you know that?"

Next to her, Brittany gasped. "Ali! No, Ali don't--"

Ali ignored her. "You think you can just say you love me and then ignore me? You think I'm that kind of girlfriend? The kind who's just gonna wait around for....for....for you come over whenever...whenever your schedule isn't busy anymore with your precious PUCK?"

She had no idea what she was even saying. Anger and alcohol were a horrible combination, and all she felt was how crazily her heart was beating and how hurt she felt. The alcohol was fueling her rant and she knew it, but she didn't care.

"Do you know how much I've missed you the past few weeks?" she continued. "Do you know how I wish I could've been at those games? Do you know how FUCKING ANNOYING it's been to only get to see your boyfriend when he's on tv?" She took a breath and closed her eyes, feeling the anger cresting. "If you don't want a girlfriend, or you don't have time for one, just tell me okay?"

Brittany chewed on one of her fingernails, not sure of what to do or say. She moved a hand over and took one of Ali's in hers for support. In doing so, she felt how tense Ali was in that moment.

Her bottom lip trembling, Ali could feel heavy tears on the verge of spilling onto her cheeks. "I think I'm drunk, but fuck it. I love you James. And if you don't...or you don't know if you do...I wish you'd just tell me. And I wish you'd pick up the phone. You're being annoying."

With this, she ended the call. Slowly, she moved her gaze towards Brittany's, giving her a guilty frown. "Can we leave?"

Brittany nodded and stood. "Anything you want, hun."

* * *

James pushed through the double-door entrance of the bar and felt the muggy spring air hit his skin. He tugged at the top two buttons of his collar, loosening them to let the air flow over his chest and cool his nerves a little. He held his cell phone against his ear, waiting until he was prompted to put in his pass code. He listened eagerly for Ali's voice....but what came over the line wasn't what he was expecting.

"Fuck you, James. You're just like all the rest, you know that?"

He stopped dead on the sidewalk, mouth falling open.

"You think you can just say you love me and then ignore me? You think I'm that kind of girlfriend?"

"No, no, no, no, no" he uttered. Rubbing at his forehead, heartbeat hammering hard against his ribs, James felt needles and pins prick his skin all over as her hurt-filled voice continued.

"Do you know how FUCKING ANNOYING it's been to only get to see your boyfriend when he's on tv?"

"Goddammit" he said aloud in the street. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as the realization settled in.

"I think I'm drunk, but fuck it. I love you James. And if you don't - or you don't know if you do - I wish you'd just tell me. And I wish you'd pick up the phone. You're being annoying."

He smiled at her phrasing, albeit grimly. Even in her drunken anger, Ali still managed to make him smile.

When the tone sounded and the message ended, James stood on the sidewalk, momentarily stricken into silence.

I'm gonna lose her if I keep this up.
Paulie was right.

Near the end of the message, Ali said that she was drunk. James could tell she was. But while she may have sounded a little drunk, he knew better: the tone she had on the message may have been liquor-induced, but there was truth in her words. Truth he needed to face, because he'd been wrong to allow things to slack off the past few weeks.

I'm NOT like all the rest, Ali.

The last thing he wanted was to be like them. Whoever the others were in Ali's past - he had to beat them. He thrived off being the best, always competing with himself or with others to be better than them.

But if she thinks I'm like all the rest?

It was like a knife in his gut, twisting, cutting him right where it counted most.

I have to fix this, he thought frantically. I have to make this right.

He started to pace again, one hand still tight about his cell phone as he shoved both hands into his pockets. Up and down the sidewalk he walked, head down, trying to think through his buzz as to how he could somehow make it up to Ali.

As he did so, James felt his keys inside his pocket. He subconsciously jingled them as he paced, but in that simple act - an idea occurred to him.

He pulled out the ring that contained the keys to his two cars, his house, a few of the rooms inside the Consol Energy Center, and Ali's condo. He stared at the single silver key; nondescript, boring, and yet - more meaningful than all the others.

Deciding then to go through with his idea, James headed back inside the bar to search for help in the form of Paul Martin.

* * *

"Hunny."

Wendy Diserelli stood above her daughter, who lay asleep on her stomach, dark hair still pulled up into a now-disheveled bun. "Hunny, it's noon..."

Ali groaned and pushed her face into the pillow.

Wendy sighed and smiled, far too wise in her 40-some years to be ignorant to the signs of a late night. "I thought maybe you'd want to see the sun rise today? Maybe?" She waited, as further signs of life in her daughter began to appear.

With a sluggish push, Ali rolled the rest of the way over so that she was at least facing her patient mother. She yawned, then opened her eyes. "What time did you say it was?"

"Noon."

"Ughhhhhhhh."

Wendy took a seat and rubbed Ali's thigh sympathetically. "You and Britt have a good time last night?"

Ali opened one eye and smirked at her mom. "Maybe..."

"Uh huh." Wendy laughed. "And did you have maybe a little too good of a time last night?"

In her head, Ali recalled the parts of the night that had been fun, but those memories were quickly replaced by the moments that weren't.

When she didn't immediately answer, Wendy's smile turned to one of maternal concern. "Allison?"

"Yeah, we did. I mean..." Ali groaned and rolled onto her back so that her and her mother were facing one another. "It was fine, for most of it. You know how it goes when you see people you haven't seen in a while." It was a fib, but her mother bought it and she was thankful.

"Oh that I do, that I do, my dear. You take your chances coming home to this small town...never know who you'll run in to." She gave Ali another smirk, full of warmth and knowledge of how their town worked. "But at least you had fun."

Ali glanced over at her cell phone, sitting on the small bedside table. It sat quiet like it had all night, hooked up to its white cord and charging unassumingly. With a quick tap, she checked the screen for any messages that may have come during the night, but....much to her disheartened surprise....there was none.

She couldn't help the irritated sigh that came out in reaction to seeing that, even after her angry voice message, James still had not gotten back to her. Not knowing what else to do, Ali pushed her face back into the pillow. "Why....why do I even care..." she mumbled into the stuffing.

Wendy looked between her and the phone, slowly putting the pieces together. "Was someone supposed to get back to you?"

"Mmphhmm."

"Hunny, I can't understand y--"

"--Yes, mother." She lifted her head, her bun shifting to one side. "Yes. Although I don't know what I was expecting, really."

"Ohhhhhhh........" Wendy began to nod, putting the pieces together much more quickly now. She gave her daughter a knowing smile when she lifted her head from the pillow again. "It's a boy, isn't it, Allison?"

"Oh god, mom - don't say it like it's a big deal..."

"Do I know who it is?" she asked with enthusiasm.

Ali had to hand it to her. Her mom was her biggest supporter, her biggest fan, and one of her best friends. And while Alicould have answered 'yes', since her parents were the big time Penguins fans that they were, she lied....kind of.

"He's from the city" she said, hoping that would pacify her. "And it's early in the relationship."

"And he hasn't called?"

Hasn't spent more than a night in the past two weeks, never has time to talk, won't answer my texts....

Ali simply nodded. "Yeah, in a sense."

Wendy knew when her daughter wasn't ready to talk, so she didn't push her any further. Instead, she gave Ali's leg a pat as she stood up from the bed. "Well, when you're ready to introduce me to this new beau of yours, I'll be all ears, okay?" She headed towards the bedroom door and gave her daughter one more smile. "Take your time waking up, sweetie. No rush."

With a genuine nod of thanks, Ali watched as her mom headed back out to the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind her. The space felt empty without her presence, and that's when Ali realized maybe she should have told her about James.

The fact was, Ali had been waiting for the right time to tell her parents about their relationship....but after the horrible message she left James the night before, right now was the exact opposite time for telling anyone about him, especially since she had no idea where she stood with him currently.

...and that's when the weight of her uneasiness felt its heaviest.

What saddened her the most was that, even after the message - no matter how foolish or drunk she'd been in leaving it - James still hadn't responded.

Resigning to giving it any further thought or worry, Ali rolled back over onto her stomach and let her weariness carry her back to sleep.

* * *

The plan back in Pittsburgh, as described by James while Paulie drove them both to the other side of the city, was to let themselves into Ali's condo and fashion a surprise for her when she returned from her weekend away. James would prove in one way or another that he wasn't like the rest, and that he did love her, and he wanted to show it.

Plus, he knew chicks dug surprises. He guessed Ali would be won over by his gesture, and maybe then he could explain how he'd try and be better about spending time with her for the rest of the playoffs. Surprise her first, explain second, then prove it third. That was his plan.

In the driver's seat, Paul nodded quietly as James described the plan. He was both impressed and surprised by James' energy, enjoying the way he went on and on about what they'd be doing and how they'd be doing it. When James finally settled back into his seat, Paul glanced over. "You really do love this chick, don't you?"

James stared at him dumbly. "Yes, asshole. I told you that."

"Hey, this asshole driving you around town today" Paul replied with a laugh. "And if you want my help, you better be nicer."

Smirking, James looked out the window. On the freeway leading out of the knotted heart of tangled Pittsburgh highways, he let his thoughts take over. He thought it was a good plan. He thought it might be the best plan he'd ever had, mostly because he wasn't the type to come up with plans to impress girls. Up until now, he never needed to.

Turning his head, James gave Paul a smile. "I think I'm a changed man, Paulie."

"Not so fast, man." He flipped the turn signal on and moved into an adjacent lane. "You've only been dating her for a few months."

"But look at me." James lifted his hands confidently, as if to put himself on display. "Look at what we're doing right now."

Glancing over his shoulder to merge onto an on-ramp, Paul made sure to give James a side-eye. "Breaking into your girl's apartment to surprise her?"

"We're not breaking in, dammit."

"Entering without permission, then."

"To surprise her with cool stuff" James added matter-of-factly. "This'll work. I have to do something to at least show her it's not like she's imagining."

"But we gotta stop at Toys-R-Us first? I did hear that part correctly?"

James nodded, though he saw the skepticism in his teammate's clear eyes. It made him want to laugh, but he held back. He knew Ali well enough now that there were little details here and there that he'd picked up about her; things that he kept in his proverbial 'back pocket' for moments just like this one. Paul may scoff, but he knew his plan was gold.

After they stopped at the toy store, they walked around for a solid twenty minutes as James debated between two different items he thought Ali would like. Once he made the decision, they then drove to a floral shop where James made his purchase much more quickly. With that, they headed over to Ali's neighborhood.

Once there, James hopped up the brick steps to the front door, keys jingling in his hands joyfully. Paul watched from behind, seeing a change in his teammate he hadn't seen before or thought was possible. He followed behind as James entered and flicked the lights on as if he owned the place.

Glancing around, Paul observed the tidy apartment, which was obviously occupied by a woman. "She has a cute place" he mentioned, eyes still roaming about him.

"What'd I tell you?" James flashed him a grin as they went down a hallway. It eventually came to a small kitchen, where James began rooting through various cupboards and drawers. "Gimme a sec, k?"

"Sure thing." Paul was busy letting his eyes wander around the room anyways. It was a well-kept place, with only a few personal items left here and there, which was a stark change from his and James' homes. Picture after picture hung on the refrigerator, as well as on a cloth pegboard hanging on one of the kitchen walls. There were notes written to remember things among other personal stuff that Ali had stuck there, in addition to a Penguins playoff schedule. Paul felt weird being there, considering he'd only met Ali once.

"I KNEW she'd have one!" James had been kneeling at a cupboard near the tiled kitchen floor, but stood and brought a glass vase with him. He held it up proudly. "Chicks always have vases."

Paul shook his head and grinned. "Nice job."

"So I say we just kinda set it up out here..." James motioned towards the small entryway area down the hall, where they both headed. "I can set the flowers up around here, and I'll just stand in the middle and wait."

"Assuming she texts you tomorrow and tells you when she's heading home" Paul added with caution. "Will she do that much? I mean...if she's that pissed at you..."

James hadn't considered this. It presented a small problem, but he thought he could work around it easily enough. "I'll just come over once practice is over and I'll stay here 'til she gets home." He glanced around, feeling somewhat at home in the space he stood in. "What time is practice? The usual?"

"On the ice by 6, yeah." Paul glanced at the flowers James was placing in the vase. "What are you going to do with those until then?"

"It's only tomorrow morning" he said, his long strides taking him back down Ali's hallway. "I'll stick 'em in the fridge until I come back."

"And you know she likes those kinds of flowers?"

"Yeah. She mentioned it once in conversation." James set the vase and the bunch of flowers still wrapped in their green cellophane into her fridge. "Plus? Purple seems to be her color."

Paulie chuckled. "Yeah? What a coincidence." He gave James a good-natured smirk. "Works for the both of you, then."

"Exactly."

James leaned back against Ali's fridge and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats. "Well. That should do it, then. Hopefully." Glancing sideways, he saw a picture of Ali and some of her friends, all smiling happily at the camera near a bonfire somewhere he didn't recognize. She had shorter hair in the picture; not the long hair that fell to the middle of her back that he had come to love. She looked good though, but it must have been an old picture.

I need to be in more of these pictures, James thought.

"So….anything else?" Paulie asked gently. "Because we should get going; Bylsma wants us at the presser in under an hour."

With a sigh of resignation, James nodded and pushed himself off the fridge. "Yeah, guess so. Let's go." Press conferences wore James out. He enjoyed the attention, but the endless questions and the constant speculation about what was to come from some of their media partners left him feeling less than confident.

He wouldn't let it show, though. As he and Paul headed back out to the car, James wouldn't let the concern of his plan with Ali or his concerns about the next round of playoffs show or be heard in his voice at the press conference. He only hoped it would go by quickly, then he could begin to put his plan in action the next morning.

* * *

Notes