Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationships:

Hayden Pike/Jackie Pike, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov (mentioned)

Characters:

Hayden Pike, Jackie Pike

Additional Tags:

Trans Female Character, Trans Hayden Pike, Relationship Reveal, Reaction

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of The recognition so richly deserved

Stats:

Published: 2026-06-02 Updated: 2026-10-14 Words: 6,537 Chapters: 5/?

Prismatic (Vignettes)

Summary

Vignettes and outtakes from The recognition so richly deserved.

Ch. 1: why wasn’t Hayley mad that Shane didn’t tell her who his partner was?

Ch. 2: Ilya and Morgan’s talk from ch. 7 of Hyaline.

Ch. 3: Pike siblings play guard dogs at Morgan’s wedding.

Ch. 4: Itty Bitty Rookie Shane meets his future best friend for the first time!

Ch. 5: Morgan and Jackie muse about gender and alternate universes late at night.

Notes

hi! this was something we cooked up when we realized that our girl could--and might have the right to--react badly to Shane sharing such sensitive information with someone she doesn't trust and in fact actively dislikes. ultimately, we decided that that wasn't the direction we wanted to go, and spun this out to figure out how that thought process might work. jane originally wanted them to go to the ER instead of just the pharmacy--so this is probably for the best!

Chapter 1: Reaction to Ilya Reveal

[November 2018]

Hayley feels like maybe she should’ve been pissed. She’s not sure why she’s not. Jackie’s not sure why she’s not. 

“Last year I would’ve been,” Hayley acknowledges. “Last year I would’ve been fucking furious. Two years ago I think I would’ve just been a dick.”

Jackie scowls. “I’m a little mad on your behalf, actually. I don’t think you would’ve been as comfortable with Shane telling his partner if you knew it was Rozanov.” 

“Which is probably why he didn’t mention that part.”

“Yeah, but—” Jackie runs a frustrated hand through her hair. “Doesn’t it feel like he tricked you?”

Hayley blinks. “Tricked me?”

“You told him something vulnerable and he turned around and told someone you don’t like or trust.”

Hayley blinks again. She—honestly hadn’t thought about it like that. But the idea still doesn’t raise any anger within her. If anything, she feels a comforting warmth at Jackie’s protectiveness, even—or maybe especially—if it’s directed at their best friend.

She considers what she had felt just nine months ago coming out to Shane and what she had felt yesterday afternoon. “I didn’t—still kinda don’t—trust Rozanov. But I trust Shane. So I trust Shane’s partner.” Her nose wrinkles. “Does that even make sense?”

Jackie sighs and comes to sit in front of Hayley on the couch, leaning her head on Hayley’s knee. Hayley sits up so she can card her fingers through Jackie’s hair. Jackie leans into the touch, sighing again. 

“Yeah, it makes sense when you put it like that.” She tips her head back to look at Hayley. “I guess I still don’t understand how you got there so quick. Like—and I recognize that this sounds absurd out of context—you wouldn’t have a broken nose if you were actually upset.”

Hayley laughs softly. She takes advantage of Jackie’s tipped head to start a loose french braid, absently weaving the hair at the top of her head. “Only with hockey players can a facial injury be the chill outcome. And he didn’t break it, thank you. He remembered that he cares about me almost in time to pull it.”

Jackie snorts a laugh. “Okay, you wouldn’t have a facial injury if you two had actually fought. Play-wrestling means you—what, found it funny?”

She gently pushes Jackie’s head upright so she can keep working on the braid. Shrugs, though Jackie can no longer see her. “Kinda, yeah. Like, Ilya Rozanov knew I was a woman before my wife did. That’s really stupid. Guess my brain just latched onto that before it remembered to be mad. And Shane was right—the advice he’s passed along has been incredible.”

Jackie hums in acknowledgement, pulling a hair tie off her wrist and offering it up to Hayley as she finishes off the braid. “But you couldn’t let Shane off the hook quite that easily,” she guesses.

“Hence play-wrestling,” Hayley confirms. “Not that that turned out too well for me.”

“That’s on you. Did you forget about—”

“Yes, I forgot about the martial arts. Don’t talk to me.”

Jackie snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you married stupid.” Hayley grabs the sides of her wife’s head and smacks a kiss on top of the finished braid. “So what does that make you?”

Jackie tips her head back in Hayley’s hold. “Pretty smart, actually.”

Hayley’s heart swells. She leans down, pressing her lips to Jackie’s forehead for a longer moment. “Thank you for being willing to defend me from Rozanov.”

Jackie flexes, making her laugh. “I could take him.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that. But let’s see how dinner goes, first.”

Chapter 2: NWHL game

[March 2019]

Shaney: Would you and the twins be interested in coming down to Boston with us next week? Ilya and I are making an appearance on our “look at us be friendly” tour at the Pride-Beauts game Friday evening, since we play the Raiders that afternoon and he plays them the next day. 

Shaney: It would be a good opportunity for the twins to watch women’s hockey. 

Shaney: And I’ve already coordinated with any other parties that might be interested.

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): Unless someone’s pointing a camera at your phone right this second I think you can probably just call her by her name

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): I feel like I’m in a spy movie lol

Shaney: Right, sorry. Holdover from how texting Ilya about literally anything always felt incriminating. 

Shaney: And from how most of the shit he sent me WAS incriminating. Got a lot of dick pics from “Lily,” as you may remember.

Shaney: That someone then saw. Because she was peeking at my phone. 

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): Yeah lol that’s fair actually

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): Aren’t you glad you never got hacked like that dude on the Stingrays?

Shaney: I thank every higher power I can think of for that daily.

Shaney: And, like, three encryption apps. 

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): 😂

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): But anyways to answer your question I’m down, but only because my parents are taking the older kids for the night already. They’re going to a theme park for Jasper’s birthday the next day.

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): But Amber and I will come!

Shaney: It was pretty short notice. Sorry about that.

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): It’s all good Shaney! We can find a CWHL game to go to with all the kids sometime. No need to apologize!

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): And I think Morgan will enjoy a night out, she’s been moping around the house again after practice. Something where hockey is for fun instead of draining will be good for her.

Shaney: Well, Ilya knows a couple of the players on the Pride and I was going to see if you wanted him to get their autographs for them (and a meet and greet for you) as a consolation prize…but if we’re good then I guess I don’t need to, right?

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): Shane I have never been more mad in my life. How dare you not realize that scheduling with kids requires a full calendar year’s notice and a prayer circle. Getting a bunch of badass women’s autographs for your dear friend should be the least of your penance.

Jackie Pike (H. Pike): (please please please omg I’ll love you forever)

Shaney: Lol done

-------

[March 2019]

Ilya is…maybe unreasonably excited to watch this hockey game, considering what he does for a living. He sometimes marvels at the way Shane structures his whole life around hockey on purpose. Prefers it that way, even. Ilya thinks that if his life didn’t have some variety to it, something new he can always look forward to, he might go insane. 

This game, of course, though, has the element that makes even the most monotonous parts of hockey—tape review, a strict diet, endless hotels—feel fresh and invigorating: it has Shane. 

It has Shane in public. The thought is enough to make Ilya swipe a hand across his face to make sure he doesn’t look as giddy as he feels. Pretty stupid if their whole thing collapses now because he can’t wipe a lovesick smile off his face. 

Shane drops back into his seat, press smile slowly morphing back into his real one. Ilya does not touch him, incredibly aware of the fact that they do not have pads and helmets to disguise just how familiar they are with each other’s bodies. He does not trust himself to not give them away in something as simple as bumping shoulders. 

Instead he grins, loud and smarmy. “Hollander, that was good interview. Maybe you should be commentator instead of player, yes? Better use of your talents.”

Shane snorts, and Morgan, on Shane’s other side, rolls her eyes so hard her whole head goes with them. Ilya hears the group of teen girls behind them giggle at the display, and he clocks at least one phone pointed in their direction.

Shane, also clearly clocking the cameras, cuts Pike off before she can speak. “Thank you, Rozanov,” he says primly, his eyes twinkling with mischief that’s just for Ilya. “Bet you would’ve appreciated me out of your way last week, huh?”

Fucker. Ilya had score twice in a row and had been determined to get a natty hatty. Shane had been equally determined to prevent this, sticking to him like goddamn glue. He had not only succeeded but added insult to injury by scoring a hat trick of his own. Ilya consoles himself with the pity prize that Shane’s wasn’t natural either, interrupted by a fucking beauty of a goal from Bood that—to Ilya’s frustation—he had looked almost surprised by, despite how the Centaurs are currently wild card contenders. It’s one of their winningest seasons to date. He wants them to start acting like it. 

“You lost to Raiders today,” he reminds Shane. “Yesterday we beat Hunter’s geriatric ass into the ground.”

“2-1 in overtime,” Ilya’s jackass of a boyfriend corrects. “I wouldn’t say into the ground. Also—geriatric? What are you reading now, The Atlantic?”

Oh, not good, put the heart eyes away, Hollander. Ilya clears his throat and tears his eyes away from Shane’s open, amused face and attempts to refocus on the game. Morgan and Jackie laugh from Shane’s other side and he flips them off low where cameras won’t catch it. 

The third period starts, and he finds himself absorbed in the game. It is a little fascinating, watching the differences in strategy and instinct between these players and the ones he faces. Women’s games don’t tend to be nearly as violent as the men’s, and he’s fascinated by how the smaller, craftier players take advantage of this, rewarded by their size in ways most of the shorter players in the MLH don’t quite manage. A boon for Pike, maybe, and definitely something he’s going to try and bring to the Centaurs going forward. 

He’s just opened his mouth to bait Morgan with this when he has to sit up straight as she brushes past them roughly, a short explanation of “bathroom” trailing behind her. 

Neither Shane nor Jackie look worried, so Ilya leans forward and tries to lose himself in the game again. 

Five minutes go by. Morgan doesn’t return. Ilya lets another two pass, then stands up himself. “Game is almost over,” he says. “I will go find PR person for meet and greet, yes?”

Shane nods absentmindedly and Jackie gives him a thumbs up, both of them watching the scrum by the Beauts’ net raptly. 

The men’s bathroom closest to their seats is empty. He knows better than to try the women’s. He’s debating which direction to go in when his eyes fall on an unassuming family bathroom tucked away in a corner.

He takes a chance and knocks on the door. “Pike?”

A low groan that he doesn’t think he’s supposed to hear sounds from the other side. “If Hollzy sent you to check on me you can tell him I’m fine and fuck off, Roz.”

“Ah, no.” He checks the handle. It’s not locked, and he opens it, meeting Morgan’s eyes in the mirror. “He did not send me. Or Jackie.”

Her eyes are red, and the glare she’s mustered up is halfheated at best. Ilya’s pretty sure they’re friends, now, but he knows he’s probably still not very high on the list of people she wants to see her like this.

He pulls the door closed behind himself anyways. Morgan’s hand clench where they’re curled around the edge of the sink.

“What do you want, Rozanov,” she says tiredly. “‘M not really in the mood for this right now.”

Ilya sticks his hands in his pockets and leans on the door. He shrugs. “You are missing some good hockey,” he says, faux-casual.

Morgan’s eyes flash and her hands tighten again, confirming his suspicions. 

“I’ll live.”

Ilya shrugs again. “Is playoffs. Too much fun to miss, no?”

“What the fuck is your problem, Roz?”

He wills his own hackles down with great effort. Sue him for checking on a friend. 

On the other hand, if Ilya thinks back the other times he’s broached uncomfortable topics with Morgan—even that first night, it had been a direct, blunt approach that had gotten through to her. Not this subtle poking he’s doing now.

He sighs. “Shane wanted you to come because he’s worried you want to retire.”

Morgan lifts her eyes to his in surprise before she remembers to look suspicious. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me I should?”

Ilya suppresses another sigh, this time one of frustration. “No.”

Morgan furrows her brow, still suspicious. 

“I am only going to say this once, yes? You are listening?”

She nods, looking more confused now.

“You are not just good wing and good AC, which I have told you before but will deny in public.” He takes a step closer, meeting her gaze steadily. “You are essential to the Metros. They would not be the team they are without you. Would be a shame to lose that.”

Morgan’s mouth has dropped open slightly. “But Shane—”

“Shane is one man. Amazing, yes, but games are not won by one man. Cups are not won by one man.” Ilya takes another step closer and eyes her seriously. “Shane will not like that I tell you this next part, because he does not like insider trading. But I do not care so much about that right now.”

He pauses, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say. Morgan turns to face him, leaning against the sink and crossing her arms. 

“The Metros do not play as a unit, always. Individuals with a common goal, yes, but not like they are operated by one brain. Centaurs do not have this yet either. Raiders did. Is why their stats are more consistent than yours. Metros do not have this,” he looks her in the eye when she tries to roll them. “But you and Shane do. You have that chemistry, yes? When you are on the ice together, your whole team plays better.”

Ilya takes a step back. He concludes, easily, “would be a shame to lose that.”

Morgan just stares at him. “Where the fuck did this come from, Roz.”

“Shane is worried. I want him not to be worried. And,” he hesitates, then plows forward. “I do not think you should lose hockey, or hockey should lose you.”

Morgan lets out a small huh, looking faintly gobsmacked. Ilya turns to leave, feeling that he’s intruded on her long enough. Just before he walks out, he says, “Come meet the players tonight. They are pretty cool.” He grins. “There are three named Hayley.”

He pulls the door shut on her sharp bark of laughter.

Chapter 3: Pike Siblings

[March 2008]

Reese quiets when Chip catches her eye, following his gaze to where Jackie’s sister Tori is sitting a table over, chatting with some Connors cousin that Reese can’t place. She strains her ears to pick out their conversation, and elbows Alicia when she hears Hayden’s name. Alicia, closest to the other table, subtly turns her head to hear better. Reese looks away so she can pretend to talk to Chip while scanning the reception room for Hayden or Jackie.

“Not to mention the empire waistline at the wedding,” Reese catches one of them say in an arch sing-song. 

The other one snorts and says, “stop.” Reese is pretty sure it’s Tori. She finally spots Hayden and Jackie, talking to Daniel and one of Hayden’s hockey buddies. Jackie looks mildly uncomfortable, but Reese doesn’t know her well enough to guess whether it’s because she can’t follow the hockey talk that’s undoubtedly happening or because her shoes or something are bothering her. Either way, they both look more or less fine for now, none of the smarmiest Connors cousins in their vicinity. Danny can run interference, too, if he has to.

The cousin continues, “no, I respect it. She’s gotta lock him down quick. Maybe he’ll be less likely to get some on the road if he’s got a baby waiting at home.” 

Reese has just about heard enough when Jackie’s brother Mike drops into the seat next to his sister and says something that Reese doesn’t catch. Both the women laugh and tip their glasses to his as he toasts. She feels Alicia stiffen next to her and leans towards her. “What did he say?”

Alicia hisses back, “he said he thinks a baby will make Hayden realize even quicker that he doesn’t want to be tied down, but that at least the child support will be good.”

Reese feels her jaw drop. Alicia adds, “I paraphrased. He was a lot more vulgar.” 

Beside them, Chip looks murderous. Reese nudges Alicia and nods at the bar, which will take them past the other table. As they walk, Reese makes as if they’re in the middle of a conversation.

“And Jackie’s, like, so sweet in person. I swear she memorized everything about us. Hayds looked freaking smitten when she asked me about softball.” She makes eye contact with the cousin and says, “I’m glad she’s got him on her side.”

Alicia agrees, adds, “they’ll make good parents if they decide to have kids in the future.” 

Tori and Mike both look cowed. The cousin flushes. She holds Reese’s gaze at first, but drops it when Alicia speaks. They make it past the table and it’s all Reese can do to hold her laughter in until they reach the bar. Score: Pikes 1, Connors 0. 

-----

Danny finds himself holed up in a corner with his siblings as the evening winds down. He watches Reese bounce a little in place as she says, “did we do it? Did anyone even get a chance to say something shitty directly to them?” 

Danny counts off on his fingers. “None of the groomsmen from Jackie’s side said shit because Rodney Pike Jr, attorney-at-law here—” he hits Chip’s shoulder. “—made them feel too stupid. You and ‘Leesh shut down her siblings. And I,” he grins proudly, “ so thoroughly embarrassed Jackie’s parents that they just shut up for the rest of the conversation. They thought they could talk puck to insult Hayds, I was like, yeah, no, you don’t know shit. And I caught Lizzi trying not to smile.”

Reese cheers quietly, bouncing again. Danny shakes her by the shoulders while Chip and Alicia bro-hug next to them, clasping hands and pounding each other on the back. He shakes Reese some more for good measure and whisper-yells, “Pike hat trick, baby!” 

Chip lets go of Alicia and slumps against the wall, loosening his tie. Danny’s not gonna lie, his is already long gone. He’s impressed with Chip’s restraint. Then again, Chip wears a whole suit to work most days while Danny’s students would clown him if he so much as wore a button-up, so. Fifth graders can be vicious. 

Chip says, “Dude, I’m just glad Jackie was willing to give us the dirty details version of the rundown, we would’ve been fucked without it.” He looks around at the stunning reception hall. “I can’t believe they pulled all this together so fast.” 

Danny’s about to make a crack about that sweet, sweet MLH paycheck when the girls go quiet. 

“Do you think the cousin that Tori was talking to was right?” Reese asks. “Do you think they got married so quick because Jackie’s pregnant?” Beside her, Alicia fidgets with a bracelet. 

Danny makes eye contact with Chip over their sisters’ heads before Chip looks at them and says gently, “I think that Hayden invited all of us to celebrate his love, and that we can do that with him whether or not it includes a baby. But yeah, I think there’s a decent chance. Jackie’s been drinking sparkling cider all week.”

Danny jumps in. “Hey, and they’re not gonna get in trouble from our side for a bit of premarital footsie, yeah? Nobody in our family is quite that Mormon.” He pauses. “Although, being that Mormon just does look so fun.” 

He jerks his head to where three of Jackie’s aunts are sitting, all glaring haughtily at some poor friend of Jackie’s who had dared to wear short sleeves. Alicia laughs. Reese huffs and pushes her sleeves down from where she keeps shoving them up in unconscious annoyance. Danny wants to tell her she can do whatever she wants with her sleeves, but he knows she knows—and he knows that they both know it will actually be easier for her if she leaves them down for now. 

“But what if Jackie’s parents are that Mormon?” Reese persists, still looking worried. “They live in Montreal and we all live in Arizona.”

“I mean, they helped pay for a secular wedding,” Alicia points out. “I think if they were gonna do something they would’ve done it before a marriage certificate was signed.”

Reese tips her head, mulling it over before she nods, more-or-less mollified. Danny wraps an arm back around her shoulder and gives her a quick squeeze before letting her go. 

Alicia muses, “The crazy part is that I actually do think Hayds will make a good dad.”

It makes Reese giggle, consternation gone from her face. “He’s gonna have kids before both of you old losers.” 

“My students are plenty for now, thanks,” Danny sniffs.

Chip just slings an arm around her neck, jostling her like he’s gonna put her in a headlock. Reese shrieks with laughter, and Danny sees the trio of Connors aunts look over in disapproval. 

“You still are a kid, Reese’s Pieces, so don’t even start,” Chip ribs as he lets her go.

Alicia sighs. “It’s weird as hell watching Jackie’s siblings be so rude to her. They’re mean.”

“Lizzi doesn’t seem too awful,” Danny offers. Reese rolls her eyes.

“Great, one out of three.” 

“Five out of seven,” Chip says. “She’s got us, too.”

Chapter 4: Meeting Shane

Chapter Summary

August, 2010. Shane Hollander shows up at his very first (non-mandatory) team event.

Chapter Notes

lil sum' to tide y'all over while we're on break. there'll be something next week too, and then hopefully after that we'll be caught up again!

[August 2010]

“Holy shit, Hollander’s here.”

Hayden whips his head around, making Carver snicker.

“Got a crush, Pikey? You wanna be Hollander’s puck bunny?”

“I’m not the puck bunny you should be worried about,” Hayden says dismissively. He’s still watching Shane Hollander hover awkwardly at the edge of Cap’s yard. “Gonna keep your dick outta the tabloids this season, Al? Liana gonna take you back a second time?”

Fuck, Jackie’s gonna kill him. The one preseason cookout she misses to do some Mommy and Me group with the girls and it’s the one Hollander finally shows up at. From what some of the ALH guys have said, he’s the first to arrive and the last to leave at every single preseason practice, but he hasn’t made it to a single event outside of work yet. Happy hour, cookouts, not even a kickabout in the park. Jackie’s been obsessed with the intrigue and mystery of it all. 

Carver scowls and Steddy laughs loudly at Hayden’s comment, making Hollander look over towards them. Before he can second-guess himself, Hayden lifts a hand to wave and motions Hollander over with a jerk of his head.

If Jackie can’t be here herself, Hayden’s gonna make damn well sure he gathers as much information as he can for her. 

Hollander picks his way through the yard and comes to a halt just a little on the outside edge of the loose circle Hayden’s in. He looks a little awkward without something to do with his hands, so Hayden leans over and snags a beer and bottle opener from the cooler, popping the cap and holding it out. Hollander takes it by the neck, high enough so their hands don’t brush.

“Hayden Pike,” he introduces himself as Hollander takes a small swig. 

“I know,” Hollander replies. Hayden blinks. Hollander grimaces slightly before covering it with a sheepish smile. “I know everybody’s stats. My mom’s the world’s biggest Metros fan, she pretty much gave me homework.” 

They all crack up at that, and Hayden notes that Hollander looks faintly surprised before a pleased grin settles over his face. He bounces a little on his feet. 

The dude’s like max two years younger than Hayden and already a hockey phenom who can outskate half the guys here, and Hayden still kind of wants to ruffle his hair and take him out for ice cream like he’s Hollander’s older brother. He’d heard from Carleton that Hollander’s not billeting at all, which Hayden had struggled to wrap his head around. Ottawa’s a lot closer to Montreal than Phoenix, but Hayden had called his mom for help at least every two weeks his first year, and he had billeted, had had someone around to show him how to take care of suits now that he has nice ones, someone to help him house-hunt and sit down to go over a lease with him to make sure he and Jackie weren’t getting scammed. Does Hollander just already know all of that? Maybe Hayden can show him. 

Carleton and Cap wander over, drawn by the laughter. Carly claps Hollander on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Hollander, right? Looking forward to actually playing with you, man. I assume you’ve met Fitzy—” he tips his head at Cap. “But I’m Will Carleton. Great to meet you.”

“He knows,” Carver interjects, and Hayden snorts. Hollander’s cheeks redden a bit, and his smile wavers. 

“Knows everybody’s stats, apparently,” Hayden adds, trying to make sure Hollander knows he’s in on the joke and not the butt. “Gonna be useful as hell, if you ask me. Still not sure some of you dumbfucks know which end of the stick goes on the ice.”

“It’s the end that can hit the puck,” Hollander says seriously. Then his eyes twinkle. “In case you weren’t sure.” 

Hayden cackles and several of the other guys chuckle. He holds his beer out to toast Hollzy, who taps their bottles together gently. Hollzy’s seems full apart from his one tiny sip. Doesn’t like beer, okay, Hayden notes. Or at least doesn’t like whatever nasty IPA Brown’s trying to get them all to drink. Hayden’ll grab a shandy or something for him next time.

Provided he comes next time. 

“Hey man, I gotta ask, how come this is the first time we’ve seen you at one of these?” Hayden takes a sip of his own beer—decidedly not an IPA, despite Brown’s best efforts.

“Oh.” Hollzy rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’ve…been busy, I guess. Moving in, getting the lay of the land, you know.”

“And getting your face plastered all over the city,” Stedlund adds, grinning and slinging an arm around Hollzy to jostle him around like the overexcited puppy he is. Steddy’s the same age as Hayden, called up from the minors full-time this year, but sometimes he acts like he’s ten. “Hollywood stays booked and busy.”

Hayden catches Andy rolling his eyes over Hollzy’s shoulder from where Andy’s sitting on the patio couch by Fitzy’s fireplace, and resists the urge to flip him off. Resentful old fucker. He’s been bitching about Hollander since the draft. Andropov doesn’t even know the kid, but he’s already decided that Hollzy’s a pretentious upstart. Hayden’s sick of it.

“Oh, yeah, I saw the CCM commercial,” Carly says. “With Ilya Rozanov? Damn, that was intense, you guys are gonna make the league some good money. You actually looked like you were about to rip his head off.”

Hollzy laughs and takes a longer sip of his beer before he answers. When he swallow, it seems thick, like he’s trying to hold down a grimace. 

“Yeah, that was—an interesting day.” His cheeks have darkened again, and he’s looking over towards the other side of the yard. 

“Is Rozanov that much of an asshole in real life?” Carver curls his lip jokingly. “I caught the Juniors tourny last year. Never wanted to hit a player in a game I’m not in, before.”

Shane’s jaw clenches. 

“I bet he is,” Hayden replies. To Shane, he says, “Hey, Hollzy, wanna come get a bite to eat? Cap’s wife can cook. I’m getting seconds.”

Hollzy gets that faint look of surprise again. “Ah, I ate a big lunch, so I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“Come with me to meet some more of the vets, then.” Take a hint, dude, Hayden thinks at him. He practically giftwrapped the out. 

“Okay.”

As they walk, Hayden snags Shane’s beer from him and takes a long drink, wiping his mouth and pulling a face. He tosses the now half-empty bottle in the recycling.

“Next time I’ll grab you something better than that pond water,” he assures Hollzy. “What’s your drink of choice?”

“Uh—I don’t drink much during the season,” Hollzy says after a beat. 

“No biggie,” Hayden says easily. “This cookout’s a kid-friendly one, so there’s plenty of soda. Coke, Fanta, ginger ale, root beer…”

“A ginger ale would be great,” Shane answers. He smiles. “Thanks.”

“Soda cooler’s there,” Hayden gestures with his head. His hands are full—he hadn’t been lying about wanting seconds. Nikki Fitzgerald’s cooking is heavenly. 

They start a slow circuit of the Fitzgeralds’ ginormous yard, chatting with each other in between introductions. Shane’s easy to talk to—still a bit mysterious, the guy’s got some serious walls that go up for the wrong topic, but he’s funny in a deadpan way, and seems insanely smart. Jackie’ll love him.

They stop by where most of the WAGs are gathered and do some rapidfire introductions, Shane looking lost for the first time as he tries to keep track of people whose stats and pictures he can’t memorize. Nikki must see it too, and she starts connecting each one to their players as they speak. She and Fitzy are a good match, because she’s Captain WAG for sure. 

A couple of the more hockey-inclined women start asking Shane questions, making him look instantly more at ease. When he sits down to start tracing diagrams on the table with a finger, Hayden wanders off, trusting that his new bestie is in good hands for now. 

------

“Why’s he spending so much time with the WAGs?” Steddy drops down next to Hayden with, if Hayden’s counted correctly, his fourth plate of the night. “He like ‘em better?”

“Maybe they’ve got something in common,” Andropov says idly, gesturing towards his own crotch. Carver laughs meanly. 

“Maybe he’s just got game,” Hayden drawls back, slinging an arm over the back of the couch. “Bet he’s charming Liana away as we speak. Wouldn’t be hard, right, Carver? All he’d have to do was be nice and not cheat on her.”

Carver flips him off. “Dickwad. There’s no way he’s packing enough to satisfy Liana.”

Hayden grimaces. “Fucking gross, dude, you looking? Weird ass thing to say about your teammate.”

“Chill, Pikey, it was a joke,” Steddy says through a mouthful of food. He does, to his credit, narrow his eyes at Carver. “Right, Al?”

“Yes, Christ, y’all are sensitive,” Carver groans. He smiles, lewd. “Just meant that Liana can’t be satisfied by just anybody.”

Hayden mimes gagging as the group lets out a mixture of boos and cheers. He wanders back towards the drinks, wondering when it’ll be acceptable to duck out. The guys are great, but he kinda misses his wife and daughters. 

He changes course when he sees Shane leaning on his forearms on the deck railing, can of ginger ale in hand. He looks pensive. Hayden leans next to him, back to the railing, looking out across the deck and towards the setting sun.

“Have a good time hanging out with the WAGs?” he asks lightly.

Hollzy tenses. “I guess.”

“They’re a cool bunch. More fun than the guys, sometimes.” His tone is still light, and he sees Hollzy’s shoulders go down an inch as he huffs a laugh. 

“My wife, Jackie, she’s not here tonight, but she’s awesome, she could run the world if she wanted. She’s at home with our daughters right now, they were doing something with her other mom friends.” Is Hayden rambling? He doesn’t really care.

Shane turns to him. “You’re married? With kids?”

“Uh, yeah.” Hayden shifts awkwardly. “Wasn’t exactly planned, but I love ‘em to death. Lot of people can be judgy, though.”

“Better than a sex scandal,” Shane mutters, eyes cutting to Carver. He immediately shuts his eyes, flushing. “Jesus, that was so rude, I didn’t mean to compare your kids to—”

He cuts off as Hayden busts up laughing, already nearly doubled over. Every time he tries to calm down, his eyes dart over the yard, taking in how the couples have all drifted together towards the end of the night—with one notable exception—and he loses it all over again.

Hollander follows his gaze, face still red but with an amused grin growing at Hayden’s failure to control himself. Hayden watches him look to Liana, still sitting at the table and chatting to the Fitzgeralds, wholly engaged in her conversation, and then to Carver, who’s looking between his wife and where Katya Andropov is curled up on her husband’s lap with poorly concealed jealousy. Hollzy snickers, setting Hayden off again, and they both stand there laughing like idiots. It is, to be fair, the funniest reaction Hayden’s had to someone learning about the twins. And, somehow, one of the least disparaging.

To him, at least. 

“That was lethal, Hollzy,” Hayden says when they’ve eventually caught their breath. “You chirp like that on the ice?”

Hollzy smirks, just slightly—first sign of ego the MLH’s next superstar has shown all night. “Not really. I’m usually moving too fast to try and talk to people.”

Because everyone else is too slow to keep up, he’s too polite to say. Hayden hears it, though. Sees it in how Shane’s smirk grows, and in the look in his eyes—Hollzy knows he’s hot shit. 

All Hayden can do is tap their cans together and pull out his wallet to start showing Hollzy pictures of the girls, rambling about them and throwing in any bit of team gossip he can remember, just to see what Shane says. He’s attentive to the stories and pictures, deadly accurate—and just plain deadly—with his assessment of the gossip, and all in all someone Hayden is determined to play on a line with. He has a feeling this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter End Notes

once again pushing our "the metros' respect for shane is genuine but conditional" agenda bc a) it's true and b) that's why it hurts when they turn on him!! because they're not willing to examine their biases for him even though they care about him, they'd rather treat him like it's his fault than do the painful work of separating their feelings about shane from who shane is.

Chapter 5: Late Night Musings

Chapter Summary

In honor of Anne Carson winning the Nobel Literature Prize

Chapter Notes

This is set vaguely in 2019, beyond that idk! it struck me late at night and i wrote it down in a frenzy and am posting it pretty much as is. jane's gonna learn that i'm posting it at all when she gets the email lol

“Do you ever wish I was cis,” Morgan mumbles into her pillow.

Jackie makes a sleepy noise of discontent. “Baby, I hate to break it to you but if you were cis we wouldn’t even be together.”

Morgan opens her eyes. “What? Why?”

“We met when we were eighteen,” Jackie says. "I only figured out I was attracted to women because you came out. If you were cis we would’ve had a really, really intense friendship and called each other sister.”

“What—oh.” 

“Hm?” 

"I meant cis man,” Morgan admits sheepishly. 

“Sweetheart,” Jackie yawns. “If you were a man i’d also be a man. Same problem. Only we probably don’t even call each other brother. Outside of church, heh.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”

“Although, if that’s the case maybe you’d be a trans man,” Jackie muses. “So maybe it would work out. Just flip flopped.” 

Morgan’s silent for a long moment. Then she says, “sometimes I forget we’re the same gender.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like—“ she cuts off. I feel like I’m playing dress up. Like my fantasies are being humored. Like the way I am a woman is still, nonetheless, different from how you are a woman. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Morgan,” Jackie says sadly. Like she heard Morgan anyways. “Baby.”

She scrubs a hand over her eyes. “I’m okay. Promise.”

There’s a rustling, like Jackie’s patting around the bed for something, and then suddenly her hand is tight around Morgan’s own. Morgan squeezes back, and then can’t find it in herself to loosen her grip. 

Jackie matches the pressure, only relaxing when Morgan, in small increments, relaxes first. It makes Morgan feel the need to clutch tightly again, which Jackie immediately copies. They go on like this for some time, side by side in their bed, squeezing and releasing. 

Jackie says, "I think we would’ve figured it out. Eventually.”

Morgan makes a small questioning sound, not quite trusting her voice. 

“If you were cis. I’d like to think that we’d get past the repression still.” Jackie squeezes again, letting it start on one side of her hand and move through to the other like a wave. “Maybe we could run away from our husbands together.”

Morgan copies the squeeze. “Y’think so?”

“Mm,” Jackie says. "I do. We figured it out here, didn’t we?”

Morgan smiles, so small that it feels as if it falls into place with no actual movement in her facial muscles. Like a natural, resting position. “We did.”

"I still don’t wish that, though,” Jackie says after a beat. “That version of us can build their own thing. I want what we built.”

“But—“

“Any universe where you’re a man makes me also a man.” It’s firm. “Maybe we figure it out, maybe we don’t. I don’t know. I don’t really care, because I don’t want anything but what we have right here.”

“Even if it’s harder?”

“Who gives a shit?” Jackie insists. “How would you even measure that? I like that you’re my wife, I like that we’re moms together, I like that we have the kids and the friends that we do. You figuring yourself out gave us more freedom than we ever had before. What’s hard about that?”

“More freedom,” Morgan repeats. She turns it over in her head. "I never thought about it like that.” 

“Yeah, well,” Jackie yawns. “It’s never gonna be hard with you, but also I wouldn’t care if it was hard as long as it’s with you. Does that make sense?”

Yes, and it also makes Morgan feel like she’s going to float away if not for the grounding pressure of Jackie’s hand, so she replies, “no.”

Jackie knocks their intertwined hands into Morgan’s hip. “Shush.”

“Kiss?” 

Her wife immediately leans up, drawing Morgan’s face towards her with her free hand. Instead of Morgan’s lips, though, Jackie presses her mouth to Morgan’s hairline. She pulls away slowly. The next kiss lands in the center of Morgan’s eyebrow, the next after that on the thin skin directly under her eye. She trembles as Jackie kisses just the very corner of her mouth. Each place tingles like Jackie left a physical mark on Morgan’s skin. 

She’s the one to bring their lips together, turning in to Jackie and feeling a bit like she’s falling through the bedding. Jackie brings one leg up, hitching it around Morgan’s thigh. She’s never felt so wholly intertwined with her wife as she does in these moments. 

Gradually, the kisses slow to a stop, until they’re both resting their heads on a pillow and breathing each other in more than anything. Morgan drifts, watches Jackie’s eyes flutter shut in between her own heavier and heavier blinks. Their hands remain tangled between them. 

Chapter End Notes

call me basic but. "i'll take care of you/it's rotten work/not to me/not if it's you" has always gotten to me. that's good shit right there.

rest assured we are working hard on p3!