Archive of Our Own

The executive offices of PPG Arena, home of the Pittsburgh Penguins, are fairly quiet. After losing in round one, a good amount of staff went on holiday, having a short amount of time off before coming back for the official off season, working on trades and acquisitions as well as player rehab and sponsorships and much more. The offices are manned by a skeleton crew, keeping the lights on and the cogs turning, quiet murmurs of conversation occasionally drift up but it is mostly silent bar the clack of keys.

The quiet doesn't last long.

The door that separates the executive offices from the rest of PPG swings open quickly, slamming into the wall behind it and immediately breaking the quiet. Striding through it is a man on a mission, long, strong strides and a face set in a severe manner, he quickly makes his way across the floor. Eyes flick up from screens as he strides by, anyone stood in the walkway quickly dodges out of his way, and yet he shows no reaction, as if he hadn't even noticed anyone. Or as if he didn't care.

Many of the staff that manned the office on the skeleton crew were old hat at it, they had been with the Penguins for years, had lived and breathed black and gold for decades.

And yet, this was the first time many of them had ever seen Sidney Crosby as furious as this.

Sid was loud in his frustration and anger at times, when on the ice and when things were going wrong, but he mostly kept it away from the office staffers. This, though, was something completely different. This was a a dark, simmering anger. Something festering in him, and it showed. His gait was tight and forceful, simply willing people to stay out of his way, emanating an aura of fury. The administrative staff of the Pittsburgh Penguins ducked themselves down behind their desk dividers, tucked themselves into doorways, did anything to keep that fury from latching onto them.

No one wanted to be in the eye of that anger.

And no one in the office was. As quickly as he arrived, Sid disappeared further into the office, towards the larger, glass offices of the higher ups. Sid was on a pinpoint course straight to the General Manager's office.

Thundering footsteps echoed along the hallway as Sidney Crosby made his way to the very top offices of PPG Arena. He knew his way around here after 2 decades in the Penguins, as well as the many times he came up here to wait for Mario when he first came to live with him. Even though he could drive, Mario would quite often, when he was still playing and also when he had particularly early morning meetings, invite Sid to ride along with him, seeing now reason why they should take two cars when both of them were likely to be stuck at the arena for the entire day.

Today's venture into the offices was for no such fun reason.

The object of his ire soon arrived in front of him, the door appearing as he turned a corner and growing larger as he approached. Normally he would slow down, come to a stop and then knock, waiting for to hear the man inside call him in. Be a true polite Canadian stereotype.

Today was not a normal day.

He didn't slow down as he approached, striding straight up to the door and pushing it open with little regard, letting it bang against the glass wall behind, hearing the hinges protest against the violent swinging.

Kyle Dubas was working at his desk, answering emails and working on spreadsheets for finance. He had a couple of meetings scheduled for later on today and was currently planning what he would need for them, both looking to be complicated, a meeting with some of the higher up execs to talk about the upcoming off-season as well as another meeting with Barrie to go over Geno's contract and the Penguins' expectations.

It was set to be a complicated day, one that he didn't know was about to become much more complicated with the arrival of a certain furious captain.

His attention was broken from his computer when his office door slammed open, he hadn't noticed the quickly approaching storm cloud that was Sidney Crosby, through his glass walls, too focused on his spreadsheets and responding to questions. That would soon prove to have been a mistake. Dubas was on the backfoot, with a Crosby he had never dealt with before, who was practically boiling with palpable anger, and he had no idea what to do. Since meeting Sid in the last pre-season, when the Penguins had brought him on, he had found him to be affable and friendly, approachable with everyone.

This was not the same Sidney Crosby.

And under his piercing eye, his burning fury, Kyle felt very like the penguin he worked under the name of. And Sid, a seal prepped to eat him whole.

Sid came to a stop in front of Dubas' desk, looking down at the man with a cold sneer. He had found Dubas to be a good GM this year, making smart decisions and trades, drafting Kindy well above where he was expected, and proving how much of a hidden gem he was being just one example. He was always fairly approachable and yet very analytical, always up for a conversation the few times they had run into each other, and then very capable of keeping up in a conversation that turned to hockey.

Sid found Dubas to be a beneficial addition to the Penguins and had very few problems with him over the year.

Until now.

"Um...good afternoon, Sidney."

"Afternoon Kyle." He spits his name with derision, glaring down and watching as he shrunk under his stare.

"Is there, is there anything I can do for you today? I, um, wasn't expecting you. Unless I have forgotten a meeting, or something?" They both knew Dubas was grasping for straws, he had a spectacular memory and a perfected calendar system that made his assistant almost weep when she saw it, there was no chance he had a meeting and forgot it.

Which means Sid was here for something else. Something unplanned, and something Dubas had no time to account for. For a man who worked so well on planning and preparation, that was a death sentence when faced with a furious man like the one in front of him.

"No, no meeting." Sid's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, a cold and even tone. "But yes, there is something you can do for me."

"Please, let me know. How can I be of assistance?"

"You can explain why Geno's contract isn't sorted"

"You can _assist_ me," he says assist with an emphasis, clearly showing how little he thinks Dubas will be able to help, "by explaining why Geno's contract isn't sorted."

He continues, "you can _assist_ me by telling me why Geno, for the first time in his career, has said he would be open to leaving this team. Why the Penguins organisation doesn't seem to be in any kind of rush to give a man who has dedicated 20 years of his life, who fled his home country for this team, who won 3 Stanley Cups for this team, the retirement contract he wants. You are about to chase away one of the most important players in Penguins history, no actually, in NHL history, and for what? Explain it to me Kyle."

Kyle finds himself frozen under a death stare from Sidney Crosby, somewhere he never thought he would find himself, somewhere he had never even considered as an option when it came to the usually pretty mild and polite Canadian. In his time at the Leafs, Dubas had his fair share of abuse hurled at him, by the media, by fans, even by some of the executives at times, but this, having Sidney Crosby stare him down like he was an insect he was about to step on, was a new low.

He would have likely continued to be frozen under the frigid gaze if Sid hadn't spoken.

"I'm waiting, Kyle."

Dubas came to life, sputtering as he tried to speak, "Ah, well, you see, it's, well, it's a fairly complicated and long concept, it's got a lot of details that are all being worked on. We're working on it, don't you worry!"

His tone very much sounded like an attempt to get a predator off of the scent of blood. It wouldn't work.

"I have all the time in the world, Kyle." Sid said as he moved towards Kyle's desk, before smoothly lowering himself into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Sat with his hands clasped in front of him and staring him down, Sid continued, "please Kyle, I'm all ears."

It was at this point Kyle realised there is truly no way of getting out of this conversation. He is going to have to lay out his plan for Evgeni Malkin to the man who would both burn down the world for the Russian, and who could also very easily get Dubas thrown from his job. While Sidney is known to not often get involved in staffing decisions unless he is asked, unlike other players who have gotten coaches and managers fired for whatever they want, the man in front of him is clearly not the same Sidney Crosby as who has been on the ice for the last 21 years. And in the hierarchy of the Penguins, Kyle knows where he falls in relation to Sid. Better to hope he hears Kyle's logic and plan and accepts it, seeing it as a hockey-conscious decision and for the benefit of the team. He hopes that Sid's need to play good hockey and for those around him to make smart hockey decisions beats his apparent protectiveness of Geno.

He is soon to be proven wrong.

"I want to first re-affirm that we are working on it," Kyle begins. "We have been talking to Barrie since the start of the season and have been chipping away at what a new contract would look like."

He continues, "there are a lot of moving pieces in this offseason, things that have required our continued attention if we want to build on the year we've had this year and improve it into a cup contending team. We are now at a stage where we are getting all of these pieces into place, and once that is done, we will be able to finalise his contract and get him signed for his retirement contract. I have no intention on chasing Malkin away from this organisation," He seemed almost panicked in his affirmation of this, "truly, I want to keep Malkin here as long as he wants to stay. He has had a terrific year and isn't in the way of any of the younger guys coming up."

The silence after Dubas' explanation was loud and heavy, hanging over the room as the two stared at one another, one almost begging for a reaction and the other giving nothing.

Minutes passed in that silence until it was broken

"I don't know," Sid began, "what I find more repulsive in that answer."

The sneer in his tone conveyed his feelings just as strongly as his words, and Kyle felt himself start to wither under the cold gaze of one of the greatest players in hockey history.

He continued, "The fact that you just tried that PR, wishy washy, media answer bullshit on me, thinking I would gladly accept it. I've had concussions, I'm not stupid, Kyle." The demeaning way he said his name had returned, though if it had ever left was also unclear.

"Or if it's the fact that in said explanation," he made quotation marks with his hands as he said 'explanation', "you deigned Geno a possible obstacle and someone who could be in the way."

"I read straight through you Kyle, so, I'm gonna tell you what I'm hearing in that explanation and you're gonna tell me if I'm wrong. Which I won't be. Yeah?"

Dubas, under the cold piercing gaze of the hockey player in front of him, could do nothing but nod meekly.

"Great!" He clapped his hands together and let them rest on his knees, "You are spending the salary cap you currently have on other players, sorting their contracts, extensions and signings and paying what needs to be paid. Once most of the funds have been diminished and you are happy with what you've picked, you'll turn to Geno and Barrie and offer the scraps. Because you know he wants to stay, that he's desperate to stay, that he will say yes to any contract that would keep him on the Penguins. No matter the disrespect. And you're gonna use that desperation against him, because you know he's gonna be waiting on you to give him that olive branch. He's not gonna let himself be courted by another team, not when the chance, the possibility, of playing with the Pens is still on the table. And that disgusts me."

Sid finished his breakdown and it was if Kyle could hear his own funeral bells. Sid's stare had never broken as he listed each reasoning, his gaze just becoming deadlier as he spoke.

"Is that how you do things on the teams you work for Kyle? How you treat the vets, the long service players, the ones who have been there for years?"

He doesn't give Dubas a second to respond before continuing.

"Is that you're plan for me next year? To sort everything else out and leave me in suspense, a multi-month long will they won't they before offering me the bottom of the barrel because I love the Penguins?" Dubas' face loses the last remaining vestiges of colour it had, leaving him deathly pale and eyes wide in horror, sputtering and repeating "no no no, never" in some kind of response to his question.

Sid pays his measly attempt at answering no mind, continuing to speak while he stares the General Manager down.

"If your answer to that is no, if your plan is to get me sorted first, maybe even get the plan mostly sorted this year, a year", he emphasises, "before my contract expires, then not only have you disgusted me even further, but there has clearly been a deep misunderstanding and I feel I must correct it. Immediately. "

"I am not better than Geno, I am not more deserving of respect or appreciation by this organisation. I don't deserve better treatment or better contracts or anything more than him. We are the same. We deserve the same amount of respect. Whatever I'm given, he should be given the same. At least. Actually! He should be given more, seeing as he sacrificed so much to continually play here. Lets not forget that he fled his home country and had to escape to the US to play for the Pens. He also very well could have easily left the Penguins when his first contract came to an end, become a star of any other team, the key player they build the team around. Instead he stayed here, and he helped us win 3 Stanley Cups. I don't believe we would have won any of those cups without Geno, and I think most hockey analysts would agree with me. And so would you, if you could look beyond your money spreadsheets and see what is in front of you."

"Whatever respect you give to me, you also give to him. And that includes not dangling a contract over his head and will they won't they-ing him while you get your eggs in your basket straight and pretty."

Sid stands from the seat, so he is staring down at where Kyle has shrunk under his gaze, "give him the goddamn contract, and do it soon."

"If not, if this time next year Geno is having his jersey hung in some other rafters, draped in someone else's colours, then there will be no contract negotiations. I will be gone. I will walk out of this organisation, and everyone will know, it was your fault. "

It hadn't seemed possible but Dubas' skin had somehow gone even paler, becoming some combination of grey and green, as if he were both about to pass out and also throw up.

"I saved this franchise, I saved the goddamn NHL. I am the face of the Penguins and helped make this franchise what it is. The dynasty it has had over the last two decades has been thanks to me, and thanks to Geno. If you make him walk, then I'm walking too, and then you will forever be known as the guy who got the two most franchise loyal men in the NHL to leave their team. And that title will follow you, you'll never be hired anywhere. If you thought what they did to some of the other GMs were bad then goddamn you won't even know the horrors I will unleash on you. No one wants to hire the man who chased off two franchise legends, no one wants the heat."

Sid leans down, splaying his hands on Kyle's desk so he can peer down the bridge of his nose at him, as he continued, "and even if you could find a job, miraculously, if someone was interested..." he paused, knowing he had Dubas exactly where he wanted him, terrified. "Then I'll just have to remind them why that is a bad idea. See, Kyle, the problem is, I know people everywhere, and everyone is very glad to hear my opinions, so one little phone call to an interested party and oops, they're pulling their interest."

Sid held his hand up and quickly flicked a finger up each time he spoke, in quick succession.

"The college pool, I know most of their scouts, the national team, they would listen to me if I told them to try and kick their own asses. The PWHL, one call to Marie-Philip and you'll get blacklisted. The KHL, well, that's a stupid idea anyway, going to Russia after you're in this trouble for pissing a Russian off. I could call Sasha or Gonch and they'd spread word to the entire Russian network before you can say 'dosvidanya'. I'm telling you, I can make you disappear from this entire world, all you need to do is piss me off about this."

"I have been the face of this sport for over 20 years, the face of the NHL and the Penguins for just as long. You mess this up, I will ruin you. And I will do it with no regrets."

Sid pulled away from the table, beginning to move towards the exit of his office before stopping and turning one final time to pin Kyle with that piercing furious gaze.

"The ball is in your court Kyle Dubas, tread carefully."

With that, Sid leaves, letting the door slam behind him as he leaves, rattling the glass panes as he makes his way back through the arena and out the door. He had an international sports competition to get to and a 19 year old to teach how to be a captain.