#klar425

“It’s insane.”

“Scarlet, we’ve been over this, it’s part of the name,” Ruby sighed, tugging her hair over her shoulder and glaring at Will like she was waiting for the objection. He sighed. Loudly. “Tradition. I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

Will shrugged, looking at both Killian and Robin for support and he was going to do permanent damage to his throat if he groaned that loudly again. “Get us something cool too,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Our own shark head.”

“You don’t play for the Sharks,” Emma pointed out. 

She tilted her head when Will glared, actually sticking his tongue out, and Killian’s arm tightened around her waist when she laughed. She had to sling her arm around his shoulders to keep her balance, only one foot on the floor from her perch on his thighs and she probably should have gotten her own stool, but they were leaving the restaurant soon and they had a flight to catch in a few hours and a West Coast swing that was critical to the standings. At least that’s how Arthur was quoted in The Post that morning. 

Emma was fairly sure he ripped it up during morning skate. 

“And it’s kind of weird,” Robin added, tugging a plate of fries towards him. Roland and Henry were both asleep in their own booth, jerseys still on from a win over the Caps. “I mean why the head? That’s just creepy.”

“Creepy,” Killian echoed, chest shaking a bit underneath Emma’s hand. He kissed her temple when she dropped her head onto his shoulder, holding one hand out expectantly to Robin. “Give me some of those fries.”

“You ate, Cap.”

“I skated for twenty minutes tonight. Give me the goddamn fries.”

“Testy,” Ruby chuckled, eyes a hint sharper than normal when she grabbed her own handful of fries. Killian shook his head. “Scarlet, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. You are not on the Sharks. You are, at least to my knowledge, not facing an imminent trade to the Sharks, you cannot come onto the ice through a shark head when we play in San Jose. This is not your first season in the league. Why are you complaining about this?”

Will shrugged, leaning over the bar to grab a glass and fill it with something when Regina started shouting, barely lifting her eyes away from her phone. “We could probably get him some interest from the Sharks,” she said. “You want to play in the Pacific, Scarlet?”

“God, Gina, c’mon,” he muttered. “That’s not what I was talking about. I just think it’s unfair that there are shark heads involved in the National Hockey League and we don’t get to do anything with them.”

“Think about the structure of that sentence,” Killian mumbled, drawing a laugh out of Emma when she tried to tug her phone out of her back pocket. “Swan, what are you trying to do?”

She grinned. “Answer Scarlet’s questions. Also, Scarlet, as an aside, if you mention to anyone in graphics that you don’t think our on-ice arrival isn’t award-worthy, they’ll probably all try and murder you with a zamboni or something.”

“They’d have to catch me first,” Will muttered. 

“You are not that fast.”

He stuck his tongue out again. 

“The shark head was built in 1993,” Emma read, glancing down at her phone. “And now they have fan events where people can skate through it and take their picture in it and, oh, it wasn’t supposed to ever be moved, but they took it to Candlestick for that outdoor game.”

“Levi,” Ruby corrected, grinning when Emma waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Didn’t they blow up Candlestick?”

“I think it’s the parking lot now,” Killian muttered, squeezing his arm when Emma sighed as dramatically as she possibly could. 

“It cost almost $5,000 to move the shark head,” Emma continued. “Shit that’s a ton of money. Man, this is a weird team. Did you know their mascot was born out of a zamboni?” Robin nearly choked on a fry. “Seriously,” she said. “S.J. Sharkie. That’s not even all that creative. And, oh, the head thing was only supposed to happen for one game, but it’s ridiculous so people loved it and now they do it all the time.”

“I’m telling you, we are getting cheated out of a cool on-ice entrance,” Will grumbled, downing the rest of whatever was in his glass in three, quick gulps and Ruby shrugged when Emma caught her eye. 

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “It’d be funny.”

“Backpage worthy,” Emma added and Ruby already had her phone pressed to her ear, talking a mile a minute as she jumped off her stool. 

Will’s eyes went wide. “What is she doing? Emma? What is Lucas doing?”

“Go home, Scarlet, you’ve got an early flight to catch.”

It took a few more phone calls and Emma’s promise that they would sell the game-worn jerseys in some kind of joint auction to benefit both the Sharks and the Rangers and Will looked a bit like a kid on Christmas morning when she told him, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her tight enough that her feet came off the floor. 

And they made some sort of history – the first other team to skate through the shark head, met with the nearly overwhelming sound of boos and jeers and it made the backpage of The Post and the front page of Sports Illustrated and “The Best Thing I Saw Today” on the midnight edition of Sports Center.