Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories:

M/M, F/F

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Rose Landry/Svetlana Vetrova

Characters:

Rose Landry, Svetlana Vetrova, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

POV Outsider, POV Rose Landry, POV Svetlana Vetrova, Weddings, Fluff, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov Wedding, Rose Landry Finds Out About Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, no plot just vibes, Bachelor Party

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of Finding Family

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-11 Updated: 2026-05-19 Words: 2,558 Chapters: 2/6

Best Women

Summary

“You have some time off now, right?" Shane asks. "Before you start filming that superhero movie?”

“Yes!” Rose sits up from where she’d been slouching on the sofa, letting the comic book fall to the ground. “Do you not have plans for the summer? We should meet up!”

Shane clears his throat. “I do have plans.” He says slowly. “But I was hoping you could join me?”

“That sounds fantastic, babe.” Rose responds easily. She had hoped to see Shane this summer, but he had very unsubtly hinted that he’d be spending the offseason with Mystery Partner so she hadn’t pushed. This is a very pleasant surprise. “What are the plans?”

“I’m getting married?” Shane says it like it’s a question, even though it very much should not be.

Rose’s jaw drops. “Come again.”

“I’m getting married.” At least he sounds sure of himself this time. “Next Wednesday. And I want you to be there. If you can.”

“Wow” is all Rose can think of to say.

 

Or

The Best Women's perspectives on the wedding of the century

Notes

Chapter 1: Invitations

Chapter Notes

“Shane!” Rose cheerfully answers the phone, happy to be rescued from the confusing comic book she’d been reading for research. “It’s been too long, babe. How are you?”

“Oh.” Shane sounds surprised even though he was the one who called her. “Yeah. I’m good. Great, even! How, uh, how about you?”

Rose hesitates.

She has only known Shane for a few months, it’s true. But they became fast friends. Best friends, really. Shane is funny and sweet and earnest and completely uninterested in anything but friendship: not sex or fame or money or connections. 

He appreciates good gossip, but he’s not overly interested in other celebrities’ personal lives. He’s obsessed with hockey, but he hates the bigoted culture around it, which is refreshing to Rose as a huge hockey fan herself.

By all accounts, they’re a perfect match.

So it’s no surprise that they’d meet as often as possible while she was filming that awful FBI movie in Montreal and they’ve frequently talked on the phone since she came back to LA. 

It’s also not surprising that she’s learned enough about him to read his awkwardness now.

“Were you planning on saying something else?” She asks, instead of making him suffer through small talk.

“Thank you.” Shane sighs in relief. “You have some time off now, right? Before you start filming that superhero movie?”

“Yes!” Rose sits up from where she’d been slouching on the sofa, letting the comic book fall to the ground. “Do you not have plans for the summer? We should meet up!”

Shane clears his throat. “I do have plans.” He says slowly. “But I was hoping you could join me?”

“That sounds fantastic, babe.” Rose responds easily. She had hoped to see Shane this summer, but he had very unsubtly hinted that he’d be spending the offseason with Mystery Partner so she hadn’t pushed. This is a very pleasant surprise. “What are the plans?”

“I’m getting married?” Shane says it like it’s a question, even though it very much should not be.

Rose’s jaw drops. “Come again.”

“I’m getting married.” At least he sounds sure of himself this time. “Next Wednesday. And I want you to be there. If you can.”

“Wow” is all Rose can think of to say.

She knew Shane and Mystery Partner (MP, for short) were serious and she assumed it’d been going on for much longer than she’s known Shane. From the first time Shane and Rose ever really talked, it was abundantly clear that Shane was head over heels with MP. It was also clear that MP was, most likely, not a woman and as such discretion was of the utmost importance.

Still, Shane seemed to appreciate every single opportunity to talk about MP, even in vague terms, which is how Rose was able to compile the following list of facts she knows about MP:

• MP is smoking hot, according to Shane (he sadly did not go into details);
• MP drinks coke, so Shane keeps it in his fridge even though he doesn’t personally like it very much (cute);
• Shane’s parents love MP as their own (and Shane’s not even jealous);
• MP is a smoker, but trying to quit (Shane grumbles about it all the time);
• Shane keeps chocolate chips in his pantry so he can make pancakes for MP in special occasions (a sign of true love, given Shane’s diet);
• MP is a bit of an asshole, but Shane loves it (even though he’d never say so while sober);
• MP lives in the states and has a schedule as bad as Shane’s, but he flew over to surprise Shane on his birthday (Shane was suspiciously breathless when he called her to cancel their plans).

Unfortunately, during the time it takes for Rose to mentally go over the list and decide that yes, she does approve of this marriage, Shane’s already overthinking the invitation and half working himself into a panic.

“Only if you want to come! I mean, I was hoping you could be our witness? But my parents can probably do it if you’d rather not. Or if you're busy. And obviously I’ll cover the travel costs if you do decide—” 

“Shane.” She finally manages to cut him off. “Of course I’ll be there, babe. It’s your wedding, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“Really?” Shane asks giddily.

“I’ll get my flight tickets right now.” Rose decides, picking her iPad from where she’d abandoned it on the coffee table. “You may not pay for them.” She quickly adds, before Shane can get any ideas. “You said Wednesday, right?”

“Wednesday 3PM at the Ottawa City Hall.” Shane informs her.

Rose is entering the information into the flight search app when she hears a muffled voice from the other sound of the call. She can’t make out the words and, when Shane responds, it becomes clear why.

That’s not English.

It sounds… vaguely European? Like Polish or Russian. Or maybe Portuguese? Rose shot a movie with a Brazilian co-star last year, this sounds similar to how she would talk on the phone sometimes. 

“Actually.” Shane’s voice snaps her out of her wondering. “Would you like to come to Montreal on Tuesday? Ilya wants us to have some kind of bachelor party.”

Ilya?

Now, Rose Landry has been a devoted hockey fan for many many years. So when she hears Shane Hollander talking about Ilya, her brain auto-completes with Rozanov.

Ilya Rozanov.

Ilya Rozanov, the notorious asshole who is nevertheless beloved by his team.

Ilya Rozanov, who has a busy schedule playing for the Boston Bears.

Ilya Rozanov, one of the hottest players in the NHL.

Ilya Rozanov, who speaks Russian as a native language.

That Ilya Rozanov.

“Shane Margaret Hollander.” Rose shrieks into the phone.

Shane makes a displeased sound at the sudden noise. “That’s not my middle name?”

“It’s mine.” Rose quickly dismissed the pointless comment. “Are you really getting married to Ilya motherfucking Rozanov?” 

“Your middle name is Margaret?” Shane asks innocently.

For a long moment, they’re both silent as Rose tries to wrap her mind around the situation. Until, suddenly, she bursts out laughing. “Ilya motherfucking Rozanov.” She repeats in between giggles.

And she can perfectly picture Shane’s shit eating grin as he replies with a simple “Surprise?”

Ilyusha

1 Attachment : first class ticket from Boston to Montreal

Svetlana

This might be news to you

But some of us have real grown-up jobs that are not just playing a game

And we can’t disappear with no notice

Not even during the summer

not even for your best friend’s wedding? 🥺

…

You’re dead to me, Ilyusha

nooooooooo

sveta

sveta 

sveta 

sveta 

sveta 

please? 

sveta 

sveta 

i’m sorry

sveta 

ugh

fine

Svetlana, my dear friend

My sister with whom I share a questionable sexual history

My only remaining family

It would mean a lot to me and my Jane if you’d come to our wedding next week

As my best woman

And our legal witness

That’s more like it

Svetlana

1 Attachment : picture of an obnoxiously large bouquet on Svetlana’s desk at work

I’m not saying I forgive you

But I managed to get time off work for next week

Ilyusha

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 

😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

🤵🏻‍♂️❤️🤵🏼‍♂️👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💃🏾🕺🏼

Chapter End Notes

There are two kinds of people, I guess

 

Also, please suspend your disbelief and imagine that the entire text thread is in Russian 😅

Chapter 2: Bachelor Parties - Part 1

Chapter Notes

This is why Rose loves Shane.

When he said ‘bachelor party’ on the phone, she struggled to picture them at a bar or a club. She couldn’t imagine Shane taking her to a strip club at all. Still, wherever he’d chosen, she’d have gone happily, because he’s her best friend and he’s getting married tomorrow.

Shane chose his own living room. 

He chose wearing silk robes and sitting on opposite ends of the couch with a charcuterie board (with way too many vegetables) between them. Shane’d let her bring a couple bottles of rosé and there’s even a tub of ice cream waiting for them at the fridge, in accordance with their deal to both break their diets on the rare occasion they’re physically in the same place.

“Don’t you two look cozy.” A deep accented voice says from behind Rose.

She turns her head to see Ilya Rozanov standing at the threshold to the hallway that leads deeper into the apartment. Unlike them, Ilya’s dressed up and ready to leave for the club. He’s wearing a sheer shirt and his hair is carefully coiffed.

He looks scorchingly hot. (She notes respectfully.)

“Of course you’re jealous.” Shane scoffs, looking right past her to give his fiancé an unimpressed glare. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Ilya, but I am, in fact, a homosexual.”

Rose snorts, but neither man seems to notice because Ilya has swiftly crossed the room and leaned over the back of the couch to devour his fiancé in a passionate kiss. Rose can admit that she’s staring a little bit. (Again, respectfully.)

Mercifully, before things can get too heated, Svetlana (Ilya’s best friend, who Rose only just met a couple of hours ago) is taking Ilya by the hand and forcefully dragging him away from his partner. “I did not dress up to watch you making out with your man in the living room, Ilyusha.” She says cuttingly.

To her point, Svetlana does look gorgeous in her low cut black dress. It raises the old age question in Rose’s brain: do I want her or do I want to be her? Unsurprisingly, the answer is both. She wants to peel the dress off the other woman’s body and, once they’re done, she wants to steal it for herself.

Rose’s distracted from her (less respectful, because Svetlana is not actually getting married tomorrow) staring by the fully grown man who’s now pouting like a child. “But my man is hot.” Ilya whines.

Svetlana bites out something in Russian and shoves Ilya’s coat at his chest, which he accepts with a dramatic sigh.

“Have a boring bachelor party, lyubimyy.” Ilya says as he shrugs on his coat.

Shane huffs and gives his fiancé the finger. “Fuck off, asshole.”

At that, Ilya manages to break away from his friend and run up to Shane, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.” He says softly before walking back. “Bye bye.”

“I love you too.” Shane calls after him. It could almost pass as nonchalant, if she couldn’t see the utter tenderness in his eyes.

A few moments later, the front door closes and Rose and Shane are left alone once again. The only difference is that now Shane has a ridiculously smitten smile on his face.

“Wow” is all Rose manages to say before breaking out into giggles.

Shane’s head snaps to her, his lovesick expression softening into amusement. “What?”

“Nothing.” Rose raises her hands in mock surrender. “You guys are cute, is all.”

“Shut up.” Shane grumbles. But his cheeks turn bright red, which only makes Rose laugh harder.

After a long moment, though, she sobers. “Is he really jealous?” Rose asks quietly. “Because I can talk with him if you want. Swear that my intentions are purely platonic or whatever.”

“It’s not like that.” Shane awkwardly fiddles with one of the throw pillows. “It’s not a trust thing.”

Rose feels her eyebrows scrunching up. “Then what is it?”

“It’s…” Shane trails off before taking a deep breath and trying again. “It’s the same with me and Svetlana. I know she’s not a threat to our relationship, even if they have history. But it still sucks, that tomorrow there will be a picture of her and Ilya in some tabloid and people will just assume that they’re together. Or that they’re fucking. And no one will think twice about it. They’ll just accept it as natural and true.

“Meanwhile,” his voice turns bitter and frustrated, “Ilya and I have been trying to show up publicly as friends for over a year and even my friends still believe it’s a PR stunt. And if, god forbid, someone finds out we’re getting married, then our careers are at risk, not to mention Ilya’s life.

“So yeah, he’s jealous of you.” Shane shrugs helplessly. “He hates that there are things I could do with you, but I can’t do with him. At least not for another several years.”

“Fuck, Shane.” Rose breathes out, her heart shattering at the confession. She reaches out across the couch to take his hand, squeezing it tight. “I’m so fucking sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s fucking bullshit.”

“Thanks.” Shane replies softly, before visibly recentering himself and letting go of her hand in favour of picking up a baby carrot. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m getting married tomorrow, this is a happy occasion.”

Rose can understand that, of course. She promptly pours two glasses of wine and hands one over to her best friend. “So.” She smirks widely. “Tell me about your man.”

“I’M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!” Ilya yells over the loud music. He looks… radiant. There’s no other word for it.

The place isn’t packed on a Tuesday night, but there’s a decent crowd. Enough that they aren’t the only ones on the dance floor, but not so large as to be annoying.  And, most importantly, there’s not a single Russian speaker other than her and Ilya. So his announcement doesn’t get the cheers he probably wants,  but rather a couple of wary looks.

Thankfully, Ilya is not drunk enough to translate his cry about his very secret impending nuptials. Instead, what he hollers in English is “EVERYBODY DRINKS ON ME!” Which does get the expected reaction of the whole club exploding with joy.

Svetlana joins in on the cheering, loud and obnoxious, throwing her arms around Ilya’s shoulders and shaking him playfully. Ilya laughs like she hasn’t heard from him in a very long time, bright and bubbly. It warms her heart.

Since most people have filtered out of the dance floor to get their free round at the bar, the DJ slows things down with a ballad. Some sappy American song about love or something, it doesn’t matter. She keeps her arms around Ilya’s shoulders and lets hims hold on to her waist so they can slowly sway around each other.

The touch isn’t heated like  it might once have been between them, but Ilyusha has always been a tactile person. Their embrace is warm and comforting and familiar. She loves him very much.

“Are you happy, Ilyusha?” Svetlana asks gently, even though the answer is glaringly obvious. She wants to hear him say it. 

Ilya smiles like the sun. “I’m so fucking happy, Sveta.” He says softly. “My Shane has made me the happiest man on the planet.”

Svetlana snorts and rolls her eyes. “America has made you soft, Ilyushenka.”

Ilya laughs freely, pulling her closer and speaking into her hair. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

And, honestly, after the bullshit Ilya’s been put through in the months since the Olympics (not to mention the 22 years of horseshit before that), she has to agree that he deserves a little tenderness. He deserves a mushy romantic wedding to a boring Canadian man who makes him deliriously happy. In fact, she wouldn’t let him go for anything less.

“No.” Svetlana says at last, turning to press a soft kiss to his temple. “It’s not bad at all.”

Chapter End Notes

Is it still called writer's block if I know exactly what I want to write but my brain refuses to let me open the laptop for a week? Inquiring minds want to know.