dance with somebody (ch. 6)
(ch. 1) (ch. 2) (ch. 3) (ch. 4) (ch. 5)
Ford makes one more note on her clipboard, before setting it down beside her on the bench.
She doesn’t always watch practice. To be fair, she kind of doesn’t need to watch practice – technically speaking, that is. It’s kind of ironic, almost, what with her long (and, quite frankly, constantly expanding) list of duties as manager of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team, that none of her work actually has much to do with the hockey part of the equation. Instead, it’s all about the everything else – booking travel for away games, writing and mailing out the biweekly newsletter, coordinating team breakfast as well as other morale-boosting social endeavors and making sure the Scones don’t actually catfish the entire lax frat in a misguided attempt to impress a certain group of Samwell alumni. That sort of thing.
It’s been a little while, since she last found herself seated on the bench when it wasn’t a game night. Or at least, it seems like it’s been a while. Because really, this can’t be the same team Ford watched less than two weeks ago.
Clearly, she’s missed out on some major developments.
Dex has called everyone together, and is going over a new play they’re about to try. He’s patient and very clear – succinct, Ford decides, after a moment’s consideration – and the smooth way he invites Chowder and Hops into the conversation, encouraging them to be vocal and precise about what they’ll need to get the timing right, is actually kind of cool. It’s not quite the route Bitty would have taken – his method involved a lot more determined enthusiasm, which Ford always loved – and it’s also distinctly different from the more humorous style Ford recalls from her brief observations of Random and Holster in action. In any case, it seems like Dex has really settled into a rhythm that works for him, works for this team.
Ford smiles.
Then she shifts her focus.
Across the ice, one of the Scones – Pippin, or Pips, the jury’s still out on that one – has sort of drifted away from the others a little. Ford frowns. She did see Pips fumbling the puck a few times during that last drill, but it’s unclear if anyone else even noticed. Still, there’s something about Pippin’s unusually closed off expression that doesn’t feel quite right. Out of all the Scones, Pippin’s always proven the most enthusiastic, the first to engage.
Ford gets to her feet – maybe, she can alert someone on the ice, just to make sure-
Except, it turns out, she doesn’t have to.