Chapter Text
Roz wasn’t a morning person at the best of times, and the last year had been crash out after crash out so Marly just kept his mouth shut as he handed his friend and Captian a Dunkins to go cup and flopped down in the empty seat next to Roz. The chances of a super early coaches meeting on a player’s rare day off being positive news seemed slim, especially after losing a playoff spot. And the glare on Roz’s face, despite the warm grumbled ‘thank you’ for the coffee, wasn’t super inspiring.
The Warrior Ice Arena was empty this time of day making the normal sounds of practice, fans, or tourists oddly missed as the two of them sat in silence except for the occasional sip of coffee.
After what was probably just a few awkward tense minutes, but felt like a good hour, LeClaire finally slammed opened the door to his own office startling both players, despite Roz trying to hide the fact as he huddled deeper into his hoody and gripped his coffee too tight, cup buckling slightly in his hand.
“Morning, guys.” Their coach said as he took his own seat across the desk from Roz and Marly. “We don’t have much time so let me get right to it, I doubt we’re the only team having this meeting right now. Shane Hollander has waived his no trade clause from the Metros and the GM’s office want to know from you boys if it’s gonna be hell in the locker room if we can manage to sign him.”
Marly didn’t have the chance to wrap his head around the idea that the best player in the league and the dude he had just landed-by accident- in the hospital might be considering the Raiders as a viable career option when, Roz started swearing in Russian next to him, lukewarm coffee spraying out from where he had crushed the to go cup in his hands. Before either Marly or LeClaire could make a move to help Roz clean up, coffee soaking into his sweatpants and hoody turning the grey material a sickly brown, and the sleeve of Marly’s clothes caught in the danger zone. Roz asked in a strangled tone Marly had heard only once before, when someone had first shown Roz clips of Hollander and Rose Landry dating last year, “Hollander is leaving the Metros? What did those fuckers do to him?”
“Well officially they are blaming the hospitalization and generic bs about lingering concerns on that…but Hollander is passing weekly medical with flying colors, no real indication that at the start of training season he won’t be back to normal 100%.”
“So it is locker room then?”
“There are rumors from some of his teammates. Absolutely nothing confirmed from Hollander’s management team.”
“Fuck.” Roz looked downright murderous and Marly felt three steps behind.
“Now, Rozanov I know that Hollander is your biggest rival-“ Began LeClaire, clearly setting up to start listing all of Hollander’s many many contributions to the game of hockey. Many of which Rozanov was just points behind, with the occasional win above.
“Sign him.”
“What?” Marly and LeClaire asked at the same time.
“Make the cap work somehow.”
Coach LeClaire sat back in his chair and assessed his team’s Captian. “This would change up a lot. I’d probably have to move you to wing Rozanov, are you sure about this, the Raiders management wants to keep you happy here. We don’t want you deciding to leave when your contract is up. That’s the whole reason we’re even asking both your input. That, and if we do somehow in hell end up with Hollander, we don’t want to lose him at the end of his contract either.”
“Is fine, promise.”
“Is he even interested in coming here?” asked Marly.
“Well, we aren’t sure, but we got word of him becoming available and the Admirals are very interested, but with them probably winning the cup this year, they really don’t have cap room or trade options that could meet what a player of Hollander’s skill deserves. They already have two Alternatives and a strong Captain.”
“You will give him the A.” Marly was sure it was a question, but it sure sounded like an order when Roz said it.
“Yes, the open Alternative spot would be offered.”But there were at least two teams out there with Captains retiring and other more desperate teams might even try re-arranging things even more.
“Good.” And with that Roz seemed to have considered the matter settled, as he got up and found a pile of take-out napkins to start dabbing coffee off his clothes.
Marly and LeClaire looked at each other and then at Rozanov.
“I have more questions.”
“Shoot.”
“What locker room rumors?”
LeClaire motioned for Roz to sit back down and waited until he did to continue.
“This doesn’t leave this office. Got it?” They both nodded at their coach.
“Allegedly one of Hollander’s teammates was trying to set him up with some girl or girls for months after Hollander and that actress broke up, and when Hollander essentially told him he wasn’t interested in any of them, someone made a crack that Hollander had to be gay at this point, and the team ran with it. Honestly, I’m almost surprised Hollander has led those fuckers to two cups. They really don’t seem to like him that much. They defiantly didn’t have his back when you were headed into him Marleau.”
“They will lose without him.”
“I think so too, Roz, but the Metros don’t seem to see it that way.”
“Fucking idiots.”
“So is he? Gay that is?” Marly asked still trying to figure out how this was his morning.
He could see that being enough to drive most players out of a room, but for fucks sake this was…Shane Hollander. Hollander was the fucking room.
“I don’t know and don’t care, but I’m not the one sharing a locker room with him. Is this going to be an issue in the locker room either way?”
“I have never… what is English phrase. Let team walk on me?”
“Let them walk over you.” Marly muttered. It was true, Roz had great control and respect of his teammates.
“Da, this and I will not let them do that to Hollander.”
“Marly?”
“I think we all just want to win another cup.” “Good enough for me, I’ll let the office know and see if they can’t work some magic.”
Roz and Marly take it as the dismissal it clearly is, when LeClaire is already on his cell phone, not wasting a second when the race to sign the greatest player in the league was on the line.
Roz is also on his phone texting the second they step out of the office and start walking towards the parking garage. After typing out essentially an essay on his phone he, sighed, and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You’re cool with Hollander actually coming here?” Marly asks looking at his normally much more talkative friend, whose still silent despite such a crazy morning.
“Hollander would not leave the Metros if things were ok. “
“Uh, huh, okay and what the fuck does that have to do with my question, Coach is already planning on shifting our line around Hollander and he’s not even signed yet.”
“And with two best players in the League we will win the cup again next year.”
“Right, but.” “But…but…. but…You have problem with Hollander?” Roz asks grinding out the words as he turned to stare Marly down.
It makes Marly want to step, hands raised in surrender, back despite claiming Roz as one of his best friends for years. He resists that urge and just answers instead. “I don’t even know the guy, only time I’ve meet him off ice is when I went to apologize for the hit that landed him in the hospital. And he was high as a motherfuckin kite so.”
“OK. Hollander knows that was just hockey.”
Marly’s eyebrows raise at that. Hollander, had been politely (drugged) accepting of his apology but, Marly wasn’t even certain Hollander was even 100% aware of what was going on at that time. And Illya had been pissed off at him for two solid weeks after that game. Which until now Marly had been fucking confused by. Roz isn’t stupid, and sighs again, running an agitated hand through his hair as he slumps against the door of his Porsche. “Hollander might be….good friend? Have known him since before draft, years now.”
“Sure, ok.” Marly agrees even though Roz himself doesn’t seem too sure of the title of ‘friend’ himself. Or willing to say anymore than he already has.
“And do you think…”
“No thoughts.” Roz snaps, quiet and sharp. “That stays in office like Coach said.”
Roz clearly had many thoughts, but Marly wasn’t stupid enough to try and get them out of him right now out in public.
“Right.”
“Think he even wants to play for us?” Roz shrugs again, a theme for the day and stares off into the small windows facing out to highway 90 early morning Boston traffic.
“I did not think Hollander would leave the Metros. Ever. He…” Roz trails off and pulls out his phone checking the screen for notifications, puts it away quickly when there are no message icons showing.
“I do not know, Marly.”