I went straight to the bench from the bus, not bothering to go through the tomb-silent locker room. For the first three hours I sat there I had unbelievable butterflies. As the spectators trickled in, their excitement was contagious and my nervousness gave way to exhilaration. By game time the arena was packed. Doc was the first one to show their face at the bench.

"Can he play?" I asked anxiously

Doc smiled. "Yes, he's fine."

I grinned and crushed him in a hug. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Because for all my confidence and sweet-talking, I still wasn't sure Jack's knee was going to be mended enough to play.

The crowd was chanting as the team stepped out on the ice 'U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!' It was giving me goosebumps and pumping my adrenaline. Jimmy set up the net, and the non-starters moved towards the bench. My smile grew-if possible- even larger when I saw Jack in his uniform, making his way towards me. Robbie and Jimmy looked terrified and Mark, Rammer, Silky and Morrow didn't seem much better. They looked so small and child-like skating to meet the soviets. For a second, it was like the entire rink went silent.

Then the puck dropped.

We played our game. That was all we were asked to do. A few minutes in the soviet captain checked Robbie so hard he fell over the bench and onto a few of our players. "C'mon Robbie! You can do it! Get back out there!" Yes, I got strange looks from the Soviets but, really, like I cared. Being on the bench, I knew, was unlike anything in the world. You were so close to the game, you could taste the evaporating ice, but at the same time you were a world away from what was happening.

"That's a Slash!" Jack was on his feet. A blind person could have seen that, but the refs didn't. Typical. Jack was absorbed into the game, he was ready to play. Rizzo and Rammer came off the ice, and he was on. He skated hard and plowed into Krutov. The coneheads got a slapshot in there and Buzzy scored.

They didn't make the same mistake twice. Every time the Russians got past our defense, it was because somebody held up Jack. I personally was quite proud that we had a player good enough to get special attention paid to him by the opposite team.

By the end of the third period, we were a goal down. Not as bad as it could be, but I knew we were due for another shot.

Mark was sent out with 17 seconds left in the half, Dave passed him the puck and with a second to spare, he scored!

At the half I opted to go up and visit with mom. "They're doing great sweetie. That last goal was-"

"Incredible, I know. Mom, you should have seen it from down there, it was fantastic."

"Daddy let you sit on the bench this time?" Kelly asked happily.

"Yeah, mom talked him into it." I said, hugging her. "I gotta go, game's back on in a little bit."

"See you after the game honey." Mom replied waving.

"Well boys, you just put the greatest goaltender in the world on the bench." I looked over and sure enough, Myshkin was in goal.

The puck never stayed in anyone's possession long, it moved so fast I was surprised the commentators could keep up with it. Bah had a breakaway but Myshkin blocked it easily. On the return, Kharlamov rammed Jimmy into the ice and scored while he was down.

"Why that no good, dirty-rotten Soviet! What kind of player scores when you're down? Does that even count? Oh my god it does! Damn it!" My incessant rambling was more of a distraction by this point so I wouldn't have to see Jimmy hurt. He got up after a second or so of baited breath, receiving a huge round of applause from everyone. The guys were banging their stick against the boards, screaming for him.

By third period, the Russians were ahead by one but the crowd was pumped, we were pumped, and we were ready to win.

"Listen to them." Dad said, referring to the crowd who was still chanting. "That's what you've done."

Petrov was pinned for slashing Dave and the entire team went on edge. We could finally tie up the game. We couldn't get a shot, until Silky pulled it back from center ice. He was checked, Mark picked it up, and scored to tie the game.

Buzzy set up a play and let Rizzo take it from there, he sent it right down the middle to put it in!Everyone went out onto the ice, hugging each other, cheering. Nothing, not even loosing was going to bring Rizzo from his score-high at this point.

For the rest of the game Jimmy was pushed to his limits. Dad tried to take some pressure off him by switching players out every minute or so. Everyone was shaking with energy, on and off the ice.

With a minute left, Tikhonov was flipping out. He'd yell at his goalie, then rub his caterpillar eyebrows, then push his players out onto the ice.

"He doesn't know what to do!" Dad marveled.

The countdown started at fifteen.

Fourteen…

Thirteen…

Twelve…

Eleven…

Ten…

Nine…

Eight…

Seven…

Six…

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two. "Do you believe in Miracles?"

One. "Yes!"

We won.

Everyone was on there feet shouting, yelling, and screaming. The boys skimmed out onto the ice and pilled on top of one another. I gave Doc a hug, and followed Craig onto the ice. "Yea! Whoooo! We won!" Jimmy gave me a huge hug. "Eww! Your sweaty and gross!"

He kissed me on the cheek. "Deal with it Dana." He grinned.

I felt two strong arms pick me up from behind and spin me around. Jack set me down and I turned to face him. "What about me?"

I smiled, "For you I can make an exception." I kissed him long and hard, not caring that there were millions of people watching. "Besides, you look quite sexy all sweaty like that."


That night Dad finally let the team talk to the press. Everyone was there to celebrate. Everyone, that is, but Jack and I. We had our own private celebration.

I thank everyone who gave me title ideas, now: anyone for pairings? I aim to please guys! R & R!