"CeCe come in here for a second."

Cecelia Brooks halted just outside the doorway as her father's voice rang out from inside his study, "What do you need Dad?"

Herb Brooks gestured towards the screen where hockey film was being projected behind him, "I want your opinion about something."

She dropped cross-legged to the floor and looked at him expectantly, "Well?"

"What do you think about Jim Craig?"

Cecelia took her time answering as she studied the film her dad was watching. Jim Craig, a goalie from Boston University, moved with ferocity and practiced calm that made him appear unflappable and impenetrable, a steel wall against the flying pucks. The intensity in his eyes, that was clear even on grainy film, could've stopped a grown man in his tracks. As she watched a puck was shot high and hard on Jim's left, his glove hand shooting up to catch it within a blink of the eye.

"I think he's amazing. Good stick handling, a fast glove; I don't know how to explain it, he just has it."

Her dad shook his head and appeared to be unconvinced, "I've been hearing talk that his games been off since his mom died."

"But look at him when his games on," CeCe pointed out, "Your boy Janaszak is good, but if you're going to stand a chance of winning against the Soviets you're going to need a different kind of play."

"You think Jimmy's got the right kind of play?" Herb asked his eyes unreadable.

She nodded her head decisively, "He's got it."

"I think so to."

A satisfied smile spread across his face. Nothing in the world made her dad happier than when she passed one of his little hockey quizzes and apparently this had been one of them. "If I get this coaching job, I'm going to need your help."

"I am pretty amazing, aren't I?" CeCe joked back with a huge smile in her dad's direction. Herb hadn't even interviewed for the Olympic coaching position and he was already watching tapes, talking to coaches, and scouting players for his team. By the time tryouts were held, he would've already picked his team and been planning practice schedules for the whole season, not to mention he'd probably already have a few of his "inspirational" speeches mapped out. That's just the way her dad worked. It was a little unorthodox, but no one could deny the results. Herb knew how to coach a team and he knew how to make them win.

"Who else would I trust to help me with this? You're the only person who thinks about hockey the way I do, I'm going to need someone in my corner when everyone else turns on me."

"And we all know they will," she giggled, "You couldn't make it through a single season without someone complaining about the way you coach."

"Some things I can't control," His eyes sparkled her way for a moment before they sobered, "If it was possible, I'd have you on this team."

Cecelia shrugged off his words, maintaining her bright smile, "You can't have everything you want."

After her flippant attitude failed to bring a smile back to her face, she looked up at him seriously and reached out to squeeze his hand, "It's ok dad, I understand."

"But—"

"No buts," she held up her hand to silence him, "I've always known that there was a limit to how far I could go in hockey and this is one of them. I'm not going to spend the next few months whining about how unfair it is because I've gone further and played longer than I ever thought possible."

"There shouldn't be a limit."

"But there is and I'm just lucky I grew up with a family that actually encouraged me to play. I never would've gotten as far as I have without you and mom cheering me on."

"I love cheering you on."

CeCe leaned sideways to rest her head on his leg. She knew that what he'd just said was code for "You're my baby girl and I love you." Herb wasn't always emotionally demonstrative toward his family, but she'd never doubted his deep love for her and her siblings. His love was evident in every word he spoke and every action he took.

"I love you too," she whispered as he slowly stroked her hair back from her eyes while they watched more film on the different players her father wanted on his team.

Two months later…

"Hey Herb, I just wanted to let you know how much I'm looking forward to being able to coach with you."

Cecelia paused in the doorway as she watched her dad's assistant coach Craig Patrick greet him enthusiastically. Within seconds of being in Herb's presence his whole demeanor changed from excited to just plain confused. Craig's shocked face when her dad handed him the finished roster after only a few hours of tryouts caused a giggle to well up in her throat, but she stifled it with her hand as they moved on to the controversial topic of picking a goalie.

"You have Jim Craig to back up Janaszak?"

Herb glanced at him over his clipboard, "Other way around."

"I'm sorry; didn't Janaszak just win you a national championship?"

"Jannie is a solid goaltender, but we're not playing for a national championship here Craig."

Craig Patrick continued staring at Herb in astonishment before he pointed out what everybody else had been thinking, "People I speak with say Craig's game has been off since his mom died."

Herb finally noticed Cecelia standing in the doorway and his eyes twinkled merrily her way before he made his reply, "Have they ever seen him when his games on?"

Her laughter over the private joke escaped before she could suppress it and Craig spun around to face the intruder, "Oh hi Cecelia."

She flashed a smile his way before peering over her dad's shoulder at his clipboard. A quick scan of the players later Cecelia looked up and nodded her head, "I think you nailed it."

The still confused Craig Patrick shook his head in bewilderment, but no other arguments were flung their way so Cecelia took it as a good omen for the months ahead. If Coach Patrick could accept her father's unconventional methods now, he'd be less likely to balk later on in the season when it really counted.

VV

Cecelia watched from her perch high in the bleachers as Craig Patrick read down the list of names making the initial cut. Most of the faces fell in disappointment as their name was passed by, but for twenty-six boys this was the first step toward their dream.

Even though she knew his name was on the list her face still relaxed into a smile and she couldn't stop the instinctive urge to bounce in her seat when Rob McClanahan was called. This experience wouldn't be the same without her best friend by her side.

Her father came down the stairs, looking every inch the imposing coach, with his practiced speech emphasizing his position as their coach and not their friend. His hard-nosed approach wasn't meant to be popular. In his opinion it would be a defining factor in making this group of boys a team in every sense of the word. CeCe was used to the lengths her father went to achieve his desired results; his attitude now didn't even surprise her. It was just one more way to manipulate his team into behaving the way he needed them to.

People were always shocked to see Herb in action. His eccentric coaching methods were always a bone of contention among those surrounding him, but Cecelia had long ago discovered the secret to his coaching madness. He knew his teams and he knew what was needed to make them perform the way he wanted them to. It was that simple. His methods just expounded on that basic principle. Everything was done for a reason and more often than not it achieved the desired result.

Groans rose up from the boys as Herb walked off leaving Coach Patrick to hand out the psychology tests he expected them to complete. They filed past Craig Patrick and then dispersed toward the locker room, congratulations being tossed back and forth between the players.

An hour later she was still seated on the bleachers looking over papers for her father when a pair of arms circled around her neck from the back. A dark head appeared over her right shoulder causing her to shriek in fright.

"Buzzy!"

"Got it in one," Buzz Schneider admitted, letting go of her to jump over the seat landing in the one next to her, "What are you doing?"

Cecelia held up the clipboard of papers, "Paperwork."

"Sounds like fun," he teased before leaning over to pluck the clipboard from her hands, "How about you come out with me and the guys instead."

"I can't," she reached for the clipboard, but he held it just beyond the range of her fingertips, "I've got loads of stuff to finish up tonight."

"I can help you with it later. I'll do some, you'll do some, and it'll be done in no time. Come on CeCe, it'll be fun. You can meet all the guys, say hi to the ones you already know, even your dad can't complain since you're supposed to get to know the team anyway."

"I guess that's true," Cecelia acquiesced brushing her bangs back from her face before packing up her things and letting Buzzy pull her up, "But you do know that my father will kill you if I get into any trouble tonight, don't you?"

"I know, but your father trusts me with you."

"Doesn't mean he won't drill you till your legs fall off if anything happens," she pointed out with a grin.

"Everything will be fine. I promise."

"Just don't leave me alone with any of those angry Boston boys. I might not have been the one who actually beat them these past few years, but I might be considered guilty by association in their book."

"They're not so bad," Buzz reassured her, but held up his pinky finger with a smile anyway, "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," she replied linking her finger with his and bouncing them up and down in a habit leftover from her younger teenage years.

"Well then, let's go Princess."

Cecelia rolled her eyes, "I thought I told you not to call me that."

"But you are my princess," he teased as they exited the ice rink and headed down the street. The bar came into view before he could tease her further and suddenly an angry looking blonde man pushed through the door and brushed pass them with barely a nod in their direction.

"Jack O'Callahan," she observed watching him stalk down the sidewalk away from them.

Buzz's eyes followed him as well, "Apparently we missed the first fight."

Cecelia looked up at him; well to be truthful it was more over at him since he was only taller than her by about half a head, "I can't imagine it'll be the last."

"For once I actually think you're right."

A swift punch to the shoulder later Buzz wasn't so eager to provoke Cecelia's fiery temper again anytime soon. They entered through the door to find hockey players spread out across the bar in groups of two or three; eating, drinking, some of them dancing with the locals, all appearing unfazed after O.C.'s exit. Cries of welcome rose up at Buzz's appearance and a few louder hoots rang out at the sight of Cecelia.

Buzzy pulled her toward a table with two empty seats next to a few of the hockey players she hadn't met yet, but she instantly recognized them as being mostly from Boston University except for one of them who she couldn't place. It figures, she tells Buzz not to leave her alone with them and instead he drags her right into the lion's den. Thanks a lot buddy she thought with a scowl that she quickly wiped off her face in order to smile pleasantly at the staring boys. Whether it was the appearance of a strange girl at their table or Buzz's willingness to socialize with them despite their Boston-ness that made them stare, Cecelia didn't know.

"Buzz," a dark haired boy greeted him and nodded politely toward Cecelia.

"This is Cecelia," Buzz introduced her to the table as a whole before clarifying her position with the team, "Herbie's daughter."

"Doesn't look a thing like him," another dark haired boy remarked before holding out his hand, "I'm Dave Silk, but most people just call me Silky."

"I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"You should," Silky replied before pointing out each player at the table in turn, "This is Rizzo, that's Ralph Cox, obviously you know Buzz so I won't introduce him again, and if you happened to see a very angry blonde stomping out of here earlier that would be Jack O'Callahan who we fondly refer to as O.C."

"Rizzo is my roommate for the rest of training," Buzz put in as he signaled the waitress for a beer.

Cecelia called out an order for water before turning around to face him again, "I know."

"How did you know?"

"Coach's daughter," she answered as if it explained everything, "I put together the room assignments this morning which explains how I know, but the bigger question is how you know? Dad wasn't putting up the list until we got back to Minnesota."

"I went to speak with your dad before coming to find you, the paper was lying out on his desk."

"Sorry about putting him with you Rizzo," Cecelia apologized patting him on the hand, "I've had to sleep in the same hotel room as him before and it wasn't pretty. Feel free to chuck him out a window if he gets too annoying."

Ralph Cox's eyes bugged out of his head as he surveyed Cecelia and then Buzz in shock. Silky, on the other hand, had perked up after the last comment appearing considerably more interested than before.

Buzz held up his hand, "Not the way you're thinking. She was fifteen and I was on a couch while she slept in one bed and her dad slept in the other."

"Dare I ask why you're so cozy with Herbie and his family?" Rizzo cracked with a grin.

"It's all a little kinky if you ask me," Silky added sliding his chair closer to Cecelia who managed to keep a straight face despite his obvious interest and complete lack of tact in showing it.

"He played for my dad at the U all four years of college and that's where we met. I was an ugly hockey-crazed teenager whose father made poor Buzzy baby sit me whenever I came to watch a practice or attended a game because of his injury freshman year. He was forced into liking me—"

"And I haven't found a way to ditch her yet," Buzzy finished before slinging an arm around her shoulders, "Luckily for me she's gotten a little cuter over the years. It's not so embarrassing to be seen with her in public anymore."

Cecelia found the foot closest to her and ground into his big toe with the heel of her boot. His yelp of pain satisfied her desire for revenge and when a glare swung her way she answered it with a sweet angelic smile.

"So which poor guy did you stick with O.C.?" Silky asked returning to the original topic of conversation.

"Mac."

An incredulous Ralph Cox stared at her for a minute before replying, "Robbie McClanahan? You put O.C. and Robbie together in the same room?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

"Depends on how you define problem," Rizzo said, "If you want one of them dead by morning than yeah, this is probably a problem."

"O.C. might have some anger issues, but I can't imagine anyone not liking Robbie. O.C. will just have to deal with his problems before taking them out on poor Mac."

"Princess," Buzz laughed, "Poor Mac is O.C.'s problem."

"Stop calling me that," she reprimanded him with a scowl, "Why would anyone not like Robbie?"

A chorus of "'76" rang out from each boy at the table.

"Are you telling me Jack is still mad about the '76 playoffs? Come on, It's almost been four years!"

Ralph nodded sympathetically, "Try telling that to O.C."

"I will," she shot back.

"It was a national championship," Silky said, "It's a pretty valid reason to be angry if you ask me. I'd probably try and beat Mac's ass too if I was him."

Cecelia's eyes narrowed at his words and Silky looked over her shoulder to notice Buzz wildly shaking his head back and forth mouthing something to him. It looked suspiciously like "stop" and "don't say that."

"Well I didn't ask you," Her glare could have frozen ice, "And for the record it would be Mac kicking your ass, not the other way around." With those parting words she pushed back from the table and headed for the bar without glancing back. The steam could be all but seen puffing out of her ears.

"I'll come get you later," Buzz called at her retreating back.

"What the hell was that?"

"You just crossed the line my friend."

Silky looked at him confused, "What line?"

"The friend line, Rob McClanahan is one of CeCe's best friends and heaven help you if you so much as bad mouth him to her face. You should just be glad punches weren't thrown."

"How was I to know?" he protested throwing his arms up in the air, "That girl should come with a handbook or something."

"Rob lives down the street from her and they've been friends forever. They've been playing on the same hockey team since she was old enough to skate."

Rizzo looked over surprised, "She plays hockey?"

Buzz didn't even appear fazed by the obvious shock written on all three boys' faces, "Yeah, she's good too. Cecelia never even played on a girl's team until she got a scholarship to play at the University of Minnesota Duluth. CeCe's been playing on guys' teams all her life."

At the continued looks of skeptical disbelief Buzz called Mark Pavelich over to the table, "You go to UMD right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Then you've seen Cecelia play?"

Pav laughed, "Of course, I almost fell over the first time I saw her play. It was insane. None of the other freshman got to play for more than five minutes all year long and Cecelia started every single game."

"All right then, so she's really good for a girl," Silky conceded.

"No, she's really good for anybody," Pav corrected, "Ask any of the guys who played for the Gophers last season. Just mention the exhibition game in February, I bet they'll be willing to tell you all about it. I'm sure Janaszak would love to tell the story."

"What happened?" Ralph asked.

"Hey Verchota, come here for a minute," Buzz yelled out motioning for the other boy to join them, "What happened last season during that exhibition game you played for charity in February."

Phil Verchota's cheeks reddened, "They killed us."

"Who killed you?" Buzzy prodded.

"The women's team from Duluth," he muttered

Silky snorted, "The women's team beat you? Dude, that had to suck."

Verchota turned on him with a glower, "We beat you guys last year too, and those girls would have pulverized you."

"Like I said," Pavelich grinned his enjoyment over proving his point clear, "She's good for anybody, but to be fair the game was played with a no contact rule that managed to put the two teams on a more even physical playing field."

Verchota piped up again, "The worst part was that every time she out-skated us or out-played us Herb just smiled. He knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into when the university arranged for that game, but he never said a word."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Herb uses her to help train us somehow," Buzz replied after taking a sip of his beer, "He used to bring her to practice back when she was younger and have us skate against her in scrimmages. That girl is damn fast. You should've seen us; one skinny, little fifteen year old girl skating circles around twenty grown men. It was just plain embarrassing."

Pav glanced around, "The only one of us who can even come close to comparing with her speed-wise is Mark Johnson and I'm not one hundred percent sure he could keep up."

"So what you're saying is, not only does she have a nasty temper, but that she could also kill me in a game of hockey?" Silly asked with a small shake of his head, "Life is just unfair sometimes."

Buzz slapped him on the back, "Don't worry about it buddy. CeCe is a force of nature. Eventually you learn to just get out of her way and hold on for the ride."

VV

"I wonder what they're talking about."

Mac signaled for another beer, "Probably just hockey stuff."

In the hour since Cecelia had stalked away from the table a small crowd had assembled around the Boston boys and Buzzy. Her angry feelings had evaporated only seconds after her departure which was usually the way her temper worked. It flared to life for an instant and then flickered out just as fast. Even CeCe had to admit that she'd be royally pissed if someone got her thrown out of a playoff game stealing away any chance to win the national championship.

A tall, broad-shouldered guy slid onto the stool beside Mac and rattled off a long list of drink orders and then turned toward her and Robbie, "Hey Mac."

He twisted a little further and smiled past Mac at Cecelia, "I'm Jim Craig."

CeCe stuck her hand past Robbie, "Cecelia Brooks."

"Brooks?" Jim questioned before shaking her hand, "Herb's daughter?"

"That's me."

"So you're the prodigy the boys are talking about, huh?"

"Since when have I been a prodigy?"

Jim smiled her way, "Apparently since the first time you put on a pair of hockey skates."

"I'm not that good; you shouldn't listen to all the hype."

Mac snorted, "Don't pay any attention to her Jimmy. Poor Jannie doesn't even like to be on the ice when she comes out carrying a stick and wearing her pads."

"So her team really beat yours last season?"

"Our boys almost cried. None of us ever considered the fact that a bunch of girls could beat us at our own game until it actually happened," he confirmed, "Can you believe that my own best friend had no qualms about permanently damaging my ego?"

"I really am sorry about that Mac," Cecelia replied looking adorably unapologetic, "You know that I had to set an example for my team. Only a few of those girls have ever played against a team of boys before in their life. I had to show them that it was possible to not only play against people twice your size, but to win against them as well. It required a few dirty tactics."

Mac's lip remained in a pouted position, "Well you could've picked someone else to demonstrate your brute strength on."

"If it makes you feel better, I'll pick someone else next time."

"It does."

Jimmy laughed at their banter, "You two know each other long?"

"Since we were born," Cecelia replied proudly, "He lives two houses down from mine. We grew up playing hockey together on the pond behind our houses."

"We played in peewees together," Rob smiled.

"And on traveling teams every year."

"And in high school."

CeCe grinned at Jimmy, "If I'd been allowed, I would've played with him at college too. Unfortunately I seem to be missing a few of the anatomical structures that qualify you to play on a men's hockey team. I'd have to lose the boobs and grow a penis."

Jim choked on his beer, "You're certainly blunt."

"It's all part of my charm," the breezy reply was sent his direction with a cheeky grin to accompany it.

Robbie nodded, "You're right about that, but I better get you back over to Buzz before he decides I've compromised your virtue."

"As if I'd let you." She shook her head at the mere thought before saying goodbye to Jimmy, "It was nice meeting you. I guess I'll see you at practice."

Jim held up his glass in a mock salute, "Looking forward to it."

Cecelia allowed Mac to entwine his fingers with hers before he tugged her off the stool and propelled her across the bar in Buzz's direction. She smiled down at the sight of their fingers tangled together and savored the feel of their palms pressed together for a moment before stifling the distinctly un-platonic feelings she was occasionally guilty of having for her best friend. The crowd around them had long since dispersed leaving only the original four at the table. She plopped into Buzzy's lap, "Have you been telling stories about me again?"

"Me?" he asked innocently, "Never."

"Try not to talk me up so much, the guys will be disappointed when they finally get to see me play."

Dave Silk cautiously shifted in his chair to face her uncertain of his reception, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I shouldn't have said anything."

Cecelia grinned his way, "It's not a big deal; I shouldn't have gotten upset about it. Mac makes me want to punch him in the face or at least yell very loudly almost daily, so really, O.C. and I should start a club to commiserate with each other. We could have meetings and discuss how annoying Robbie is."

"Hey!"

"Well you do and you are."

"Fair enough," Mac replied reclining back in his chair, "At least you don't usually act on those violent urges."

"Would I ever hurt you?"

"Do you want me to answer that truthfully or sugar-coat a lie so as not to scare the other guys?"

Rizzo leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, "You better sugar coat a lie. I don't want to spend the next few months waiting for Cecelia to attack me."

"It takes a special man to piss me off that much." She smiled sweetly, "Robbie just seems to have that particular effect on me."

"I try sugar plum, I try."

"I know you do darling."

The three boys from Boston looked mystified and all of them glanced at Buzz for explanation. He held up his hands, "Don't ask me. Those two are some of the most screwed up people I've ever met. They've been like this since I met them six years ago; I gave up trying to understand it about five years and three hundred and sixty-four days ago."

Cecelia's mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out. Her head dropped to rest on Buzz's shoulder and she draped her arms around his neck, "I'm tired."

"I better get you home then. Say goodbye to the boys."

"Bye boys," she repeated automatically without lifting her head off his shoulder.

"Bye Cecelia," they all chorused.

"It was nice meeting you," Rizzo added.

Ralph Cox nodded, "See you later."

"Want to go out with me?" Dave Silk glanced around the table, "What? I was just asking!"

CeCe didn't open her eyes, but a small smile flit across her mouth, "Maybe sometime Silky."

Buzz stood up and heaved Cecelia to her feet beside him, "Let's hit the road Princess."

She flung an arm in his general direction expending some of her precious energy, "If you don't stop calling me that I'm going to lobotomize you with the sharp end of a hockey stick."

"Promises, promises," he retaliated with a laugh, keeping an arm around her waist, and pushing her toward the doorway, "See you tomorrow boys."