***
III. get right to the heart of matters
***
"And at the end of the first period, it's Detroit zero, your Los Angeles Kings one."
The scoreboard screens switched to crowd shots. Sydney leaned back in her seat and grinned over at Danny. "Great game so far."
"If you say so." He craned his neck to look around at everyone. "Hey, I can see the press box from here!"
"Cool." She followed his gaze, and they watched the people milling about inside.
"So which one is the announcer?"
She pointed. "Mike Vaughn. He played forward for Michigan a few years ago." She shrugged. "He was okay."
"Is there anything you *don't* know about hockey?"
"Probably not. Dad and I used to quiz each other at dinner every night."
Danny thought of the awkward call he'd made to Jennings Aerospace that morning. "He just doesn't seem like the hockey type."
"He's not, really. I never told you the story...?"
"No."
"I must have been, I don't know, twelve. Dad hadn't been around much right after Mom died. Business trips and stuff. And I got sick of it."
"And of course you didn't just blow him off and do your own thing."
"He's my *dad,*" she said, as though it explained everything.
And you're Sydney, he thought, which does explain it all. "Right."
"I went looking for a bonding experience. I'm not actually sure how I settled on hockey. It seemed like a good manly sport."
"Was your father a hockey fan?" Danny checked the scoreboard surreptitiously. Just a couple minutes...
"Well, not exactly." Sydney looked charmingly sheepish. "And you should have seen his face when I gave him Kings season tickets for his birthday."
"But he went to the games."
"It took some...convincing at first." Sydney's gaze spoke volumes.
Danny laughed. "I'm impressed. Jack Bristow's not an easy man to 'convince.'"
"Tell me about it. After being his daughter, getting thirty preteens to shut up and diagram a sentence is nothing."
"Sydney?" When she met his eyes, Danny leaned forward and kissed her.
"What was that for?"
Mike Whatshisname's voice came over the PA system. "Miss Bristow. Miss Sydney Bristow. Please turn your attention to the scoreboard."
Sydney turned as the opening chords to "Build Me Up Buttercup" started to play. "Oh, my God," she said faintly.
The picture of the two of them kissing was on the screen. "Marry me, Sydney" flashed underneath it.
When she turned back to him, he had the ring ready. "Well?"
She threw her arms around his neck. "Yes. Yes!"
The entire arena burst into applause. As Danny tried to get the ring onto Sydney's finger--*now* his hands had to shake?--he could see the announcer in the press box, giving him a thumbs-up. He grinned back. Then she grabbed him and kissed him, and he forgot the rest of the world even existed.
***
III. get right to the heart of matters
***
"And at the end of the first period, it's Detroit zero, your Los Angeles Kings one."
The scoreboard screens switched to crowd shots. Sydney leaned back in her seat and grinned over at Danny. "Great game so far."
"If you say so." He craned his neck to look around at everyone. "Hey, I can see the press box from here!"
"Cool." She followed his gaze, and they watched the people milling about inside.
"So which one is the announcer?"
She pointed. "Mike Vaughn. He played forward for Michigan a few years ago." She shrugged. "He was okay."
"Is there anything you *don't* know about hockey?"
"Probably not. Dad and I used to quiz each other at dinner every night."
Danny thought of the awkward call he'd made to Jennings Aerospace that morning. "He just doesn't seem like the hockey type."
"He's not, really. I never told you the story...?"
"No."
"I must have been, I don't know, twelve. Dad hadn't been around much right after Mom died. Business trips and stuff. And I got sick of it."
"And of course you didn't just blow him off and do your own thing."
"He's my *dad,*" she said, as though it explained everything.
And you're Sydney, he thought, which does explain it all. "Right."
"I went looking for a bonding experience. I'm not actually sure how I settled on hockey. It seemed like a good manly sport."
"Was your father a hockey fan?" Danny checked the scoreboard surreptitiously. Just a couple minutes...
"Well, not exactly." Sydney looked charmingly sheepish. "And you should have seen his face when I gave him Kings season tickets for his birthday."
"But he went to the games."
"It took some...convincing at first." Sydney's gaze spoke volumes.
Danny laughed. "I'm impressed. Jack Bristow's not an easy man to 'convince.'"
"Tell me about it. After being his daughter, getting thirty preteens to shut up and diagram a sentence is nothing."
"Sydney?" When she met his eyes, Danny leaned forward and kissed her.
"What was that for?"
Mike Whatshisname's voice came over the PA system. "Miss Bristow. Miss Sydney Bristow. Please turn your attention to the scoreboard."
Sydney turned as the opening chords to "Build Me Up Buttercup" started to play. "Oh, my God," she said faintly.
The picture of the two of them kissing was on the screen. "Marry me, Sydney" flashed underneath it.
When she turned back to him, he had the ring ready. "Well?"
She threw her arms around his neck. "Yes. Yes!"
The entire arena burst into applause. As Danny tried to get the ring onto Sydney's finger--*now* his hands had to shake?--he could see the announcer in the press box, giving him a thumbs-up. He grinned back. Then she grabbed him and kissed him, and he forgot the rest of the world even existed.
***