Flinstones Or Jetsons?

I raced around the hotel room as quietly as I could, careful not to wake up Peyton, as I searched for my other shoe, holding the right one in my hand.

I had taken a little extra time in preparation for the day, making sure to straighten out the ends of my hair, add a touch of eyeliner to my usual mascara and actually pick out a mildly fashionable outfit as opposed to my usual jeans and a t shirt. The long tunic like shirt I had on would hug around me with every step I took, which was serving as a mild distraction since I would feel the need to spin in a circle every few moments before returning to the hunt for the shoe.

I was kneeling down, peering under the couch, when I heard Sidney knocking at the door. I sat up, glancing down at the shoe in my hand and grunting, walking over to the door and opening it up to see Sidney grinning at me. I held the shoe up, “I can’t find his soul mate.”

Sidney laughed, “Did you mean to make that a pun, or did it just happen?”

I sighed, turning away from him, leaving the door open so he could come in. “I could just wear another pair of shoes, but I’ll spend the rest of the day obsessing over the fact that I can’t find the other shoe,” I explained to him, keeling back down and returning to peering under the furniture.

I heard Sidney open something, muttering to himself, before he came to stand over me. “It was green shoe, right?” He asked.

I lifted my face off the floor and looked up at him, noticing the match to my shoe in his hand. “Where did you find that?”

“In the shoe closet.”

“We have a shoe closet?” I asked, standing up and taking the shoe from him. “How did my shoe get there?”

He shrugged, watching me with an amused expression as I slid the shoes on and grabbed my jacket from the back of the couch. “Are you ready?” He asked. I nodded, sliding my coat on and following him out the door.

“So, did you eat? Because I figured that we could grab something to eat before we headed off to explore,” He said, walking next to me as we made our way towards the back stairs, since Sidney couldn’t take the elevator without being crowded by media and fans.

“No, I haven’t eaten yet,” I told him, thanking him as he held open the door to the stairs. “Is there anywhere you can eat without getting mobbed?” I asked him as we made our way down the stairs.

“Yes there is,” He said, grinning at me as he held open the door to the parking lot, leading me over to his car.

I eyed him as he opened up the passenger door for me. “So, you’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”

He shook his head, smirking at the unimpressed look that placed itself across my face. He closed the door for me, walking over to the driver’s side. Once he climbed in he turned to me, pausing as he was about to start the engine. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be impressed,” He said, nodding to himself as he started the car.
---------------------

“Holy freaking crap,” I exclaimed as Sidney’s car came to a stop, making me stare out of the car window. “This is where you live?”

Sidney nodded, climbing out of the car and once again racing over to hold the door open for me so I could climb out. “It’s pretty nice, I guess,” He joked, shutting the door behind me once I was out and leading me over to the door. “This section is completely mine,” He said as he unlocked the door and ushered me in. “The Lemieux’s have the rest of the house. They pretty much leave me alone.”

I nodded, still looking around and gaping at where Sidney lived. It was simple, as he had told me the night before. White carpets and black couches, hardwood flooring in the small kitchen, a few pictures hanging on the wall and a giant TV were about all there was. The walls were an almost beige colour, and for some reason, the simplicity in both colours and furniture were so suited to Sidney, I couldn’t picture him living anywhere else.

“I take it you approve?” He asked, laughing slightly as he saw that his voice had knocked me out of my amazement. “So, I’m not much a cook, but I figured eggs were a safe bet,” He said.

I grinned, taking off my jacket and placing it carefully on the small chair next to the door. “How about you make the eggs, and I make pancakes?” I suggested.

Sidney raised his eyebrows up, already turning to head into the kitchen. “Well, I am all about team work,” He joked, waving me into the kitchen with him.

I pulled open cupboard after cupboard, searching for all the ingredients needed to make the pancakes while Sidney grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge, reaching around me to grab a bowl from one of the lower cupboards. “I have pancake mix, you know?” He said to me.

I frowned, everything except the vanilla already set out on the counter. “I can make them from scratch, Sidney.”

He shrugged, “I don’t doubt that. I just didn’t know I owned half of the stuff sitting on the counter, so I’m worried about it’s state.”

I glanced down at the various ingredients. “None of these things really expire ever, so we’re good. Do you have an extra two eggs?” He nodded, handing two of them to me so I could set about mixing the ingredients together, glancing over to see Sidney whisking in some cream with the eggs before pouring them into a pan.


Within twenty or so minutes Sidney and I were sitting down at the small table next to the kitchen, our plates filled with scrambled eggs and pancakes. Sidney must have used the entire carton of eggs, save for the two I needed, so the pan on top of the stove was still half filled with the rest of the eggs.

“You don’t cook for other people very often, do you, Sidney?” I teased, scooping up a forkful of eggs.

He smiled, an embarrassed tinge hitting his cheeks as he set to cutting up his pancakes. “Not really. I’ve only ever made breakfast for Flower and Max, and those two can eat a deceiving amount of food.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’d notice this,” I began, picking up my knife so I could cut up my own pancakes, “but I am not a 26 year old man playing in the NHL.”

Sidney gasped, “What? You’ve had me fooled this whole time.”

I laughed, taking an extra second to swallow the food in my mouth. “So, what are we up to next? Or am I just hanging out here?”

Sidney shook his head, lifting up a napkin to wipe his mouth. “Well, I figured we could walk around this area a little bit. Not very many people get to see the sights out in the neighbourhood, and maybe after we can go to any stores you may have seen and wanted to check out.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “I’m not much of a shopper. That’s Peyton thing,” I told him. “I’m good for a walk, though. I’m actually an avid walker. I always try to convince myself that I’m going to go for a jog, but I only last about a minute before I revert back to mildly fast walking.”

He laughed, “That’s kind of sad.”

“Yeah, I need to get into shape,” I agreed, eating another forkful of food. “What do you do in your free time? Do you even have free time?”

Sidney reached his arms out behind him, stretching before he answered. “I have a bit of free time, yeah. I’ll usually just watch a movie or work-out. Sometimes I sleep, but I’m an early riser and I cant nap for more than an hour, so…yeah.” He smiled.

I nodded, looking down in surprise to find my plate nearly empty already. I looked around at Sidney’s place once more, still taking in the fact that I was eating breakfast across from Sidney Crosby in his house, which just so happened to actually be Mario Lemieux’s house. I gave my head a small shake, returning to the rest of my pancakes and eggs. Sidney was looking at me, his own plate already cleaned of food. He had an amused smirk on his face, and he placed both of his elbows on the table so he could lean forward a bit, still smirking. When I finally gave in and looked up at him, he grinned, letting out a small chuckle. “Do you want to meet Mario?”

I felt the fork drop from my hand, clanking against the plate, a sound which surprised Sidney as he jumped a bit in his seat. “I’m sorry,” I apologized to him. “It’s just, even though I grew up cheering for Vancouver, since they’re my home team, my dad and I were always huge Lemieux’s fans, so this is basically the greatest offer ever,” I tried to explain, pausing afterwards before adding, “Well, aside from owning a komodo dragon.”

“A komodo dragon?” Sidney asked, laughing, pushing back his chair so he could stand up, grabbing his plate. “That thing would eat you alive.” He let out another laugh as I offered him my plate with an innocent smile.

“I disagree. I think that they’re a misunderstood creature. I firmly believe that a lot of love, dragon treats and the occasional walk is all would take to tame the komodo dragon,” I told Sidney, turning around in my chair so I could see him putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

Sidney only laughed once more, closing the dishwasher shut before he turned around to look at me. “Well, Mario will be leaving in about twenty minutes to head off for a
General Managers meeting, so if you want to meet him, we should head down there soon.”

I stood up from my chair, smoothing down my hair and then my long shirt before I looked back up at Sidney and smiled. “Okay, we can go now.” I decided.

He nodded, moving out of the kitchen and past me to a door that I hadn’t noticed before. He unlocked it, pulling the door open and grinning at me. “This way is faster.”

I laughed, following him through the door and down the long hallway that it opened into. There was a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway, and Sidney climbed up them two at a time, opening up the other door at the top of the stairs and waiting for me to make my way up them as well. “You know, I haven’t come in this way in a really long time,” Sidney told me, letting me enter through the door first. “I’ve tried to ignore the fact that at 22 I still live in someone else’s house.”

I shrugged, waiting for him to pull the door shut behind him before I took any steps. “People live at home until they’re 25 nowadays, I don’t see why everyone makes such a big deal about you living in a section of someone else’s house,” I told him. “Besides, you don’t stay in the Lemieux’s part of the house. It’s just like if you lived in a basement suite alone.”

He nodded, seeming satisfied with my reply. “Do you live with your parents?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No, I live in an apartment. Peyton lives next door to me, that’s how we met.”

He nodded, leading me around a corner, staying about two steps ahead of me. “Mario,” Sidney greeted, making me almost fall over as I wasn’t around the corner yet to see Lemieux in all his glory. Sidney glanced back at me, a smirk gracing his face as he saw the clearly nervous expression that had washed across my face. “I wanted you to meet someone,” Sidney continued, reaching behind him to grab my arm and give me a gentle tug forward so I was standing next to him, my mouth hanging open as I stared up at Mario Lemieux.

Mario smiled at me, setting down the glass of water in his hand and giving me a small wave, a gesture just I wouldn’t have expected from him. “Hi, I’m assuming you’re Hanna?”

I just about fell over when he said my name, barely pondering how he knew who I was. I managed to work up a smile, keeping a hand on the wall next to me so I didn’t fall over from the mix of awe and nerves coursing their way through my system. “Yes, I am Hanna. And I guess you’re Mario?”

He grinned, seeming amused by incredibly sad attempt of humour. Sidney was biting his lip to keep from straight out laughing at me, but he shoulders were shaking with the withheld laughter. Mario nodded, his hands moving to rest in the pockets of the jeans he was wearing. “How are you liking Pittsburgh so far?” He asked, sitting down on one of the stools that were set out by the counter he was leaning next to, gesturing that Sidney and I could do the same.

“It’s really nice,” I told him honestly, feeling Sidney tug me towards one of the stools. “I haven’t seen much of it, yet, but what I have seen I’ve really liked. And the atmosphere in the Igloo was amazing! It reminded me a lot of GM Place.”

Mario nodded, taking a drink from his water. “The Vancouver crowd was always a favourite to play in front of. Even when the Canucks were terrible, they sold out the place.”

I laughed, “Well, to be fair, the Canucks were terrible for the majority of their existence, so it was just the usual for the fans.”

Mario laughed, “I’m glad you said it, because if I had, I would have been a jerk.”

“You would have been honest,” I corrected, letting out a deep breath and looking over at Sidney. “These lame comments keep coming out of my mouth and I can’t stop them,” I whispered to him.

Sidney’s mouth twitched a bit as he once again fought off the urge to laugh at me. He turned to look at Mario, who was curiously eyeing the two of us. “Hanna’s the only person I’ve ever met that’s managed to shut Talbot up.”

Mario raised his eyebrows up, looking at me in surprise. “I didn’t know there was a way to make him stop talking. What did you do? Drug him?”

I laughed, “Well, something like that. I think he just feels bad for me so he lets up easer then he usually would.”

Mario frowned, looking over at Sidney. “Is this one of those moments where I should say, ‘That’s what she said?’”

I just about lost it, leaning back on the stool and letting my head dip back as I laughed, trying to grasp the fact that Mario Lemieux, the man who sported one of the fiercest mullets of the NHL’s time, had attempted a ’That’s what she said’ joke at me. Sidney was laughing, too, and the sound of his odd, almost unexplainable laugh only encouraged my own laughter. It wasn’t too long before Mario was laughing as well, the three of us sitting at the dark marble counter with our heads either leaned back or resting on the counter, our faces red with laughter and eyes glassy with tears.

After a few minutes of hysterics, Mario wiped his eyes, letting out another chuckle. “I’m sorry that I have to end this, but I really do need to head off to my meeting,” he apologized. “Can you two just hang on a second?” He asked, standing up from his stool and heading out of the kitchen and off to another room.

“He’s so nice in person,” I told Sidney. “I mean, I didn’t expect him to be mean, it’s just weird to see one of the greatest players ever standing right in front of me, laughing just as hard as I am,” I tried to explain.

Sidney nodded, still wiping away his own tears of laughter. “The first time I met him, I wanted to hate him.”

I was surprised by the statement, leaning back a bit and looking at Sidney. “Why?”

Sidney let out a soft laugh. “My dad played against him in juniors, and apparently my dad doesn’t like all the goals Mario scored on him,” Sidney explained. “Since my dad wasn’t a fan, I figured I wasn’t supposed to be, either.”

“Your dad played against Lemieux?” I asked.

Sidney nodded, “Yeah, as a goalie.”

I hummed, “I did not know that.”

Sidney shrugged, “Well, I like Mario now. And so does my dad, so I guess it all worked out okay.”

Mario returned before I ask Sidney anything else about his dad’s days in hockey, carrying a couple of pictures and the blade of a hockey stick. He handed them to me, smiling. “I know it’s a little pretentious of me to assume you want my autograph-”

“Oh, thank you so much!” I interrupted, looking at the three autographed pictures, the stick laying in front of me on the counter. “My dad is such a fan of yours, he’ll be thrilled when I bring this to him.”

“What’s your dad’s name? I can customize the autograph,” Mario offered, grabbing a sharpie from off the counter and sliding one of the pictures towards himself.

“His name’s Martin. And if you could say you like his hair, even though you’ve never seen it, he would probably die. He would just fall down and not be alive anymore,” I said to Mario.

Mario laughed, “You want me to kill your father?”

“Come on, Mario,” Sidney tried to encourage, “How could you say no to this face?” He asked, placing a hand underneath of my chin, prompting me to pout.

Mario only laughed again, popping the cap off of the sharpie and writing out a greeting to my father before he grabbed another picture, writing something to me on it, and then wrote a brief hello to Peyton on the last picture. “You know,” Mario began, handing the pictures back to me, “I kind of wanted to meet Peyton.”

“She’s coming to tonight’s game,” I told him. “Maybe you can meet her then?”

He nodded, placing the Sharpie back down on the counter. “I’ve heard she’s…odd.”

I smiled, “She can be a little much. She doesn’t mean to be,” I tried to explain. “She just…she didn’t have a mom growing up, and her dad is an alcoholic. She doesn’t really talk about it, but I think the reason she doesn’t know how to act sometimes has more to do with not being around people that really cared about her then anything else,” I said. I gave an embarrassed smile afterwards. “Sorry to just unleash that on you.”

Mario shook his head, “No, that’s okay. You know, it’s important for people to know those things. It can explain a lot about a person’s character.” He glanced over at the clock on the wall behind him. “Has Peyton told the boys?”

I shook my head, “No. They know she didn’t have a mom growing up, but that’s it.”

Mario nodded. “She should tell them. They would really understand, especially a select few. And it’s not good to hold those things in,” He said. “Now, I have to cut this potential therapy session short and head off to my meeting.” He turned to talk to Sidney. “You should get her and Peyton seats up in the box with me and your parents. I’d like to meet Peyton, and I want to get to know you,” he turned and pointed at me, “a little more.”

I nodded, Sidney doing the same, before we both said goodbye to him as he headed off to grab his coat and leave.

Sidney spun around in his stool so he was facing me. “You know what I’ve realized?” He asked. “You’ve asked me a lot of questions, which I appreciate, but I feel like I know nothing about you.”

I grinned, “Well, anything I want to know about you I can just Google, so I have an unfair advantage.”

Sidney nodded, “I know, it’s not fair.” He tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment. “I don’t even know how old you are,” he realized, seeming completely shocked by the realization.

I smiled. “I’m 21...in May.”

His eyes widened, “You’re 20? You’re a baby,” he joked. “May what?”

“Fifteenth,” I answered.

Sidney nodded, standing up. “We’ll continue this as we walk,” He decided, waiting for me to stand up from the stool before he took all of the pictures and the jockey blade from my hands, carrying them for me.

I followed Sidney back down the stairs and into his section of the house, still reeling from meeting Mario Lemieux. “What time is your practice at again?” I asked him as he held open the door that lead me back into his part of the house.

“Two, so we have just under three hours,” He answered, tugging the door shut behind him and locking it. He turned around to look at me once more, seeming to ponder his next question. “What’s your middle name?”

“Why do you need to know my middle name?” I asked, laughing.

“You probably know mine, it’s only fair,” He answered.

I frowned, “I didn’t mean to know what you’re middle name was, it just happened!”

Sidney laughed, “Come on! Tell me or I’m just going to make one up.”

“What would you make it?” I asked, smirking.

Sidney hummed for a second, leaning back against the closed door. “Wilma. You seem like the Wilma type.”

I frowned. “Did you tell me I seem like a Flinstone? Because Wilma must be my least favourite cartoon wife ever.”

Sidney grinned, “What? Jane Jetson was far more annoying then Wilma Flinstone.”

“Are you crazy? Wilma whined all the time. And those pearls? My goodness, I just wanted to choke her with them,” I argued.

“You didn’t think Jane was annoying?” He asked, seeming surprised. “What did that woman do for a living?!”

“What did Wilma do?” I countered.

“Nothing, it was the time of the dinosaurs. Women didn’t work. They had kids named Pebbles and vacuumed the house with a baby elephant.”

“PETA would have killed her,” I decided.

Sidney shook his head, “Well, what is your middle name?” He asked once more, looking at me expectantly.

I sighed. “Danielle.”

Sidney nodded. “Hanna Danielle Ashton. That doesn’t too bad.”

I frowned, “Is that your way of telling me it doesn’t sound very nice?”

He shrugged, smirking a bit. “Maybe. But I’m just bitter about your dislike towards Wilma Flinstone. When I was six, I was pretty sure I was going to marry her.”

“When you were six you were cheering for the Canadiens. You made bad decisions back then,” I reminded him.

Sidney’s mouth fell open. “What’s wrong with the Canadiens? Why do you hate the East, Hanna? What have we done to you?”

I laughed, “I don’t hate the East! I just don’t like the Canadiens.” I saw him straighten up, preparing to say something and interrupted him. “Can we not argue about hockey teams now? I already like you a little less after hearing about the Flinstones.”

Sidney sighed, “Fine. But only because I don’t want to have fight you,” He joked. “How about we head off for a walk? I’ll annoy you with more questions and your dislike towards me can slowly progress.”

I nodded. “By the end of the day I’ll be in an Ovechkin jersey.”

Sidney frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“He’s totally awesome. Did you see the All Star games when he wore the giant hat and glasses?” I asked.

Sidney sighed, “Yes, I was there.”

“He’s so cool. Actually, now that we’re talking about him, I kind of want to fly to Washington and be like, ‘sup Ovie?’ Maybe Malkin can teach me some Russian,” I rambled.

Sidney shook his head, already in the process of putting his coat back on. “You know what, I’m just going to drop you off at the hotel and hang out with someone cooler then you,” He paused so he could throw my jacket to me, “Like my mom.”

“Your mom is cool,” I laughed.

“You have met her once. And she’s never licked her thumb and then rubbed your face, so of course you think she’s rad,” He whined.

I grinned at hi, buttoning up my coat and then following him back out of the house “Hey Sidney?” I asked, making him stop and wait for me to be beside him. “Do you have Niklas Backstrom’s number? Cause he’s a total babe.”

“I am not speaking to you anymore. This walk will be a silent walk,” He decided.

I laughed, “I’m just kidding,” I assured him, smirking after. “Well, except about the babe part. That one was true.”

Sidney only groaned.