Work Text:
Rose isn't exactly excited about starring in a romantic comedy. Even though she'd the one who had specifically asked her agent to find her more diverse roles, after she spent a random Tuesday night unable to fall asleep from the worry that she was starting to be typecast as Sexy Action Movie Girl or Kidnap Victim too often, and that those were the only roles she'd ever get for the rest of her career.
What Rose is kind of excited about is portraying a hockey player. For her action movies, she's always left the stunts to the professionals, but she's looking forward to spending some time on the ice with this project. Her brothers would never let her hear the end of it if she let a stunt double do all the skating for her. Plus, it's something unique that she can bring to the role. Not every actress is willing to take on a more physically demanding role like this, but underneath the expensive dresses and careful dieting, Rose is a sturdy Michigan girl from a whole family of hockey fans, who spent hours on the ice alongside her brothers when they were all kids. She still remembers bugging John, her eldest brother, to come skate with her every time he came home from college over Christmas break. Even exhausted from exams, he'd always geared up, and they flitted around their little backyard rink, passing a puck back and forth.
As one of the leads, Rose is the first member of cast on location, touching down in Vancouver on a cloudy afternoon. The director and camera crew will be out scouting locations and shooting test footage for a few days, so Rose has time to prepare before she has to look competent in front of a camera. The next morning Rose gets up early, rushes through breakfast, and heads down to be picked up and driven to the practice rink. She can't wait to start training.
This isn't the rink where they'll be filming the hockey scenes, but it's plenty of space for Rose to practice. She's been told they're getting actual hockey players for the non-speaking roles, and the actress who plays her character's teammate and best friend used to do figure skating, but had declined to shoot any of the hockey scenes, so she'll have a stunt double.
Rose has a lot of practice before she'll feel ready to take the ice alongside actual players.
When she arrives, one of the costume department interns greets her, looking quietly starstruck, and leads her to the dressing room, where hockey gear is hanging in the stalls and laid out on the benches. Multiple pairs of skates are lined up neatly, sticks are leaning in the corner, and a few helmets are resting on the shelves.
"Um, do you want any help, Ms. Landry?" asks the intern, hovering nervously in the doorway.
Rose shakes her head, already pulling a hair elastic out of her pocket and gathering auburn strands back into a ponytail. "I'll figure it out, thanks!"
The intern nods, and flees. Rose unzips her fleece jacket and tosses it aside, and starts trying on skates.
She's always liked trying on costumes by herself first, getting a feel for the character she's playing without anyone hovering nearby. It lets Rose forget that she's shooting a movie, and instead think about the kind of person she'd be if this was part of her everyday life.
Someone who was quicker to get into their uniform, probably. Rose thinks she does pretty well, considering that she hasn't worn a full set of hockey gear in something like fifteen years, and back then it was her younger brother Matt's.
When she rises to her feet, balancing carefully on her skate blades, she learns that it's definitely the heaviest costume she's ever worn for a role. The bulkiest costume was the hoopskirts from the flashbacks in the third X Squad where she played her character's great-great-grandmother first manifesting powers, but this isn't far behind.
Rose grabs one of the hockey sticks leaning up by the door, and trudges down the short hallway out onto the ice. The first few moments are a little wobbly, but she just catches herself with her stick every time her balance shifts too far one direction or another, and before she's even worked up a sweat she's flying easily across the rink, leaning to one side and then the other to feel the way her blades cut into the ice and grip.
The muted scrape of her skates makes Rose lose track of time, her helmet narrowing her range of vision so that she sees the ice and nothing else when she tips her head down. She doesn't realize she's not alone until she comes up to the gate and sees Svetlana Vetrova standing there.
Rose startles, nearly tripping, and only barely manages to keep her balance by dramatically widening her stance and bracing hard with her stick, pivoting around and coming to a careful stop.
"Hello," says Svetlana. "It's good to see that I won't need to teach you to skate." She steps down onto the ice and comes gliding effortlessly over to Rose.
The last and only time Rose had met Svetlana was at Shane and Ilya's wedding, and they hadn't had a chance to speak to each other much. Rose had stayed off to one side of the backyard, so that the semi-circle of people hovering close to her in fascination didn't interfere with the festivities. She'd felt awkward about drawing so much attention, when the focus should obviously have been on the people getting married. Although Shane was probably perfectly fine with not having quite so many people staring at him in a non-hockey setting.
At the wedding, Svetlana had mostly been at Ilya's side, looking glamorous and imposing. Rose was willing to admit that she was terribly curious about the other woman, Shane having mentioned her several times over the years, but other than briefly complimenting Svetlana's dress and remarking how happy she was for Shane and Ilya, Rose hadn't spoken to her.
Today, Svetlana's thick curls are mostly tucked under a knitted hat, and her makeup is subtle. In contrast with Rose's ungainly layers of padding, Svetlana is in silky-smooth cream-coloured sweats with a sage-green zipup vest over top. It's the same basic outfit that Rose's mom or her brother Peter's wife would wear to the rink, but Svetlana looks like she's stepped off a runway.
"Yeah, I'm fine there! I practically grew up on skates." Rose pauses, a cold ball of worry settling in her stomach. "Did – did they not tell you what you'd be doing?"
Rose had asked Shane if he knew anyone who'd be interested in coming out to Vancouver to train her, with the hope that he'd be able to recommend someone better than whoever the producers could find. She was surprised when she heard she'd be working with Svetlana, but now that she's here, Rose hopes that they'll get to know each other a little better. It'll be nice to spend time with someone else who likes hockey, since Rose's friends are mostly in the entertainment industry too, and take pride in turning up their noses at sports of every kind.
"Just that I am the 'sports consultant'," says Svetlana dryly. Other than slightly crisp consonants, Rose can't hear any accent to her English. "They said that I should ask you what you needed to learn."
"Seriously? God, what a clusterfuck. Sorry!" It's embarrassing that the production team has dragged Svetlana all the way out here and then set her adrift as soon as she arrives. Rose would be returning to her hotel and calling her agent to fix things, in Svetlana's place.
Svetlana's eyebrows rise at hearing Rose swear, but amusement twitches at the corners of her mouth. "A clusterfuck indeed. Still, we can make some progress today. You need to be a convincing hockey player, right? Let's have you do some drills."
Svetlana skates over to the bench, which has been stocked with all sorts of supplies. Rose shifts her weight from one side to the other, feet starting to protest after so long in skates. She wonders if Svetlana is going to set up a line of cones for her to weave through, or do some passing drills together.
Instead, Svetlana just comes back with a stack of pucks, which she lays out in a neat line near center ice before skating backwards a few meters.
"Here. Try some shots on net."
Rose looks between the pucks and Svetlana. Svetlana has even donned a helmet, as though worried that Rose's puck handling is so bad that she's somehow in danger, on the opposite side of Rose from where the net is.
The thing about growing up with three competitive brothers is that Rose has a knee-jerk reaction to being underestimated, equal parts spite and pride flaring under her skin. She squares her shoulders, adjusts her grip on her stick, and flashes Svetlana a bright smile.
"This is fine!" says Rose, all nonchalance.
Rose skates over and picks up the first puck, taking it slowly down to the blue line before releasing it with a wrist shot. Even though it's been a few years since Rose played, the puck flies straight into the open goal. She carves lines in the ice as she leans into a sharp turn back to centre ice, picking up speed, and snags another puck. She takes that one a little closer to the goal line so she can backhand it. That shot makes it in too, more off-center than the first, but a goal is a goal.
Rose is going fast enough now for chill air to nip her face as she loops back around to the last three pucks. She lines herself up with the row of them and then sprints across the ice to hit each with a slapshot, one after another in rapid succession – the first hasn't reached the net by the time Rose is lining up the second, but she sees it hit the back bar just as the second puck leaves her stick. That one goes wide, bouncing off one of the end posts, and Rose expects the final puck to also miss, since she's a little wobbly after the burst of skating in full padding, but it ricochets off a post and makes it to the back of the net.
"Yes!" Four out of five is pretty good. Rose stops in a spray of ice and pivots to face Svetlana, grinning widely.
Svetlana has her arms folded across her chest, face blank with surprise. She blinks once, twice, a sweep of dark eyelashes, before saying, "I thought you hadn't played before."
"Never on a team. Just with my brothers in the backyard in the winter sometimes." Rose shrugs, the gesture largely swallowed by her layers of padding.
"You had a rink?"
"Oh, nothing fancy. My dad would like, shovel the snow into a wall, and then spend a couple hours out there in the cold flooding it with the garden hose. He used basically the whole backyard, so it was big enough for all four of us."
Svetlana regards her for a long, silent moment. Rose can't help wondering whether Svetlana is curious about her, too. Whether she's managed to surprise Svetlana with this fact about her mundane childhood in Grand Rapids.
"It was a pond in a park in Moscow, where I learned to skate," Svetlana says at last. The edge of a smile curls her mouth, lighting up her whole face. "For two winters I was better on skates than Ilya, but…" She flicks a hand expressively, inviting Rose to fill in the entirety of Ilya's hockey career.
Svetlana's flawless calm doesn't betray whether she ever wished for a hockey career of her own, but she's here in a rink in Vancouver, on skates, when she already has a job and lives on the opposite side of the continent. Something has drawn her here, and Rose isn't arrogant enough to think that it was the chance to work with a famous actress.
"I bet I'll be even better than him, by the time you're done with me," offers Rose.
Svetlana laughs at Rose's performance of absurd arrogance, just like Rose was hoping for. Her careful poise partially relaxes, melting near-brittle reserve into something warmer.
"Well, since you are more experienced than I realized, Rose Landry, you can choose what we do next. I'm sure you have an opinion about what would improve your skills."
There's a challenging spark in Svetlana's hazel eyes, encouraging Rose to stop being polite and agreeable. Rose is more used to making demands of people she doesn't like very much, which is a necessity in show business, but since Svetlana has specifically asked her, she ignores the part of her brain telling her to demur, and lets a tiny bit of selfishness slip out.
"Can we do some drills with the cones?" asks Rose. Maybe she should work on the basics to give herself a solid foundation, but Rose has always liked diving into the deep end and figuring things out while she's swimming for the surface.
"I will get the cones. You gather the pucks," Svetlana adds, nodding towards the net.
Rose catches the edge of a grin as Svetlana turns to skate back to the bench where all the equipment is stashed. She hopes they'll get along well – partly because they'll be working together for a little while, and partly because this is her best friend's husband's best friend, but mostly because of the curiosity that crackles down her spine every time she looks at Svetlana.
Years ago, when Rose came to Vancouver for the first time for a guest spot in a TV show, she'd figured it would be similar to L.A., since they were both on the West coast. She really wasn't prepared for the rain, and had spent the entire shoot with wet socks.
This time, Rose is experienced. When her alarm goes off, forcing her out of bed early, pads over to the windows, and opens the curtains of her suite onto a gloomy vista of thick, grey rainclouds and the haze of steadily falling rain.
"Way ahead of you," she tells the clouds, and detours past her suitcase on the way to the bathroom to pull out her hiking boots.
The first five days that Rose has been here were clear weather, which she spent indoors, training with Svetlana on the ice. Svetlana has been friendly, but very focused on the actual training; she won't chat for more than a couple of minutes before she's directing Rose back out on the ice for another drill. Rose should just be glad that she's getting to work with a woman her own age, instead of whatever retired AHL coach the producers could scrounge up, but the little things she's learned about Svetlana have only made Rose want more.
Yesterday, the rest of the cast started to arrive on location, and today, they're filming. As Rose is climbing into the van to head to today's shooting location, she's glad that she's cultivated a relaxed and quirky public persona rather than a refined and elegant one. She's pretty sure her raincoat – transparent turquoise vinyl, printed with a pattern of white stars – is intended for children, but it's fully waterproof and has both a deep hood and pockets on the inside that keep the rain out, so it's perfect as far as she's concerned. Plus, these days, her career is established enough that she doesn't worry about looking perfectly put-together every second that she's in public.
The van pulls up at the restaurant they're shooting in today, just outside of where the sidewalk and part of the street have been blocked off to keep random people from wandering into view through the windows. Rose glimpses bright lights inside being carefully arranged as she hops out of the van, dodging puddles as she heads around the side of the building for the wardrobe and makeup trailers.
Rose scrolls through her phone while she's getting her hair and makeup done. It's early enough here that the East coast is still waking up – her Instagram feed for her personal account is of lattes, sunrises, and dogs or kids curled up in bed.
Wardrobe is quick, since Rose doesn't have to wriggle into spandex or get laced into the many layers of a historical gown. She privately thinks that, based on the athletes she knows, her character would probably wear something more casual and loose-fitting than the dainty blouse and stylish jacket that they dress her in, but her contribution to making this film successful is nailing the hockey part of things, with Svetlana's help; she's not going to start demanding costume changes.
Flanked by two PAs with umbrellas, Rose is escorted from wardrobe into the restaurant, and onto set. They're shooting three different scenes here today, at different tables to make it look like different locations – the first date with the love interest; a coffee date with the female lead and her best friend; and a dinner where the female lead meets the love interest's parents.
"Zach!" Rose jogs over to her co-star, and they gingerly hug, careful not to disturb each other's hair or clothing. Zach's dark curls are gelled carefully into place.
"Ready to fall in love?" he asks, grinning.
Rose laughs, and bumps him with her shoulder. They've worked together a few times, and easily chat about mutual friends while they wait for the crew to finish setting up lighting and cameras.
Shooting the first date scene goes quickly – it's easy acting and the lines are simple, nothing complex or challenging. She and Zach do a few takes, and then stay in place while the cameras are brought in closer for reactions, and the director declares himself satisfied.
While the crew is getting set up for the dinner scene, Rose wanders over to the craft table for some breakfast. It's late enough in the morning that she's hungry, and that Svetlana is probably awake, too. Since Rose isn't training today, there's no reason she needs to contact Svetlana, but it seems rude to ignore her just because of that.
Rose takes a picture of her paper plate of cheese, grapes, and a half-eaten pepperoni stick, all chosen to have minimal impact on her lipstick. She captions it Glamorous movie star breakfast, and texts it to Svetlana.
Before Rose can set down her phone, a laugh react appears on the message. A few moments later, a photo comes through of a partly-eaten omelette and a cup of coffee, with a half-full French press and a small pitcher of milk in the background. Everything's on matching white china. At the edge of the photo, Rose spots Svetlana's smooth brown legs, emerging from a white robe, with her slippered feet propped up on a chair.
Unglamorous hotel breakfast, she's replied.
Rose reacts with a heart-eyes emoji. Not waking up until well after sunrise and starting the day in a robe sounds great, while she's sitting in a noisy building and trying to scarf down a meal between takes. It's hot, too, since the lights throw a ton of heat and the air conditioning is turned off to prevent the noise ending up on tape.
What are you doing after breakfast?, asks Rose, and adds, I'm stuck on set all day 😭
Lunch with marketing exec of Dongfeng Motors, Svetlana says. That's right, her actual job has something to do with luxury cars. Maybe explore the neighborhood, if it ever stops raining.
Yeah, it's pretty rainy here. Sorry!!
Why are you apologizing? You don't control the weather, replies Svetlana.
It's my fault you're here, though, Rose replies. Maybe Svetlana would have summer travel plans, if she hadn't taken this offer. An image pops into Rose's head of Svetlana on a beach, wearing a swimsuit that leaves her gleaming legs bare, some icy, brightly-coloured drink sweating in her hand – Rose quickly brushes the thought away.
I like new experiences, Svetlana says plainly. She adds, But I think I need a proper raincoat. And a hat, the humidity is doing wild things to my hair.
Rose eats another grape as she tries to figure out if she can ask for a picture. At the rink, Svetlana keeps her thick curls mostly contained under a cap, but Rose hopes she'll get to see Svetlana on a sunny day, off the ice, at least once while she's here. Probably no swimsuit, though.
"Rose? We're ready for you on set," says an AD, and Rose scrambles to her feet to go do her job.
It rains again the next day.
The crew is shooting some of Zach's interior scenes, so Rose doesn't have to spend time in front of a camera today. She has a somewhat leisurely hotel breakfast of her own, and then meets Svetlana at the rink. Svetlana makes her take the puck back and forth across the rink until Rose is flushed with exertion and gasping for breath, and then compliments Rose on her stickhandling. When they finish up for the day, Rose asks if Svetlana would like to get dinner together, but Svetlana says she already has plans.
It rains for a third day in a row.
The crew comes to the rink, the director mumbling that they can get some footage of Rose on the ice to use later during editing. Rose has read the script, and isn't sure where shots of her, alone on the ice, are going to come in useful, but agreeably skates at top speed past the camera, shoots pucks at an empty net, and makes and receives passes to Svetlana, who's just out of frame. It's the most fun that Rose has had on set in ages – it feels like being a kid again, goofing around with her brothers. The director keeps asking her to look serious, like she's concentrating, and Rose struggles to contain her smile. Afterwards, she's too worn out to try inviting Svetlana out again, legs wobbling under her as she clomps down the hallway to the dressing room to peel her sweaty gear off.
Rose wakes up on the fourth day and opens up the curtains to pouring rain, again.
"Oh, fuck off," she tells the clouds.
She leaves the curtains open for the faint, grey light, and goes about her morning routine. The big arena they're filming the hockey games in isn't available yet, nor are the people playing her teammates and opponents. The intimacy coordinator isn't on set until next week, so Rose and Zach can't shoot any of their sex scenes yet. There aren't many other interior shots that Rose is in, so she's not surprised to step out of the shower to a message that she isn't needed on set today.
Wrapped in a thick hotel bathrobe with a towel around her hair, Rose chews on the inside of her lip as she slowly taps over to her message thread with Svetlana. Rose has grown to appreciate the luxury of spending a surprise day off in a high-end hotel room, napping and reading and watching terrible daytime TV – staying home sick from school is the last time she can remember having relaxed, unstructured days like that. But she can't imagine that being very interesting to Svetlana.
Who is a grown adult who knows how to entertain herself. Rose doesn't have a good reason to spend time with Svetlana outside of the rink, other than feeling drawn to her and thinking she's incredibly attractive.
Rose isn't attracted to women all that often, but it's intense when it happens. Back in high school, she had a passionate crush on a girl two years her senior, to the point of feeling dazed and hot every time she talked to her. And again in college, twice, first on a classmate and then on the grad student who led her physical theater workshops. As her dating history with men has demonstrated over and over again, though, Rose's gaydar is awful, and all of those women had boyfriends.
The only way to find out about Svetlana is to get to know her better.
Just found out I'm free all day, Rose texts Svetlana.
Rose leaves her phone on the desk and goes back into the bathroom to finish her skincare routine. It's possible – likely, even – that Svetlana has already filled her day. But Rose can't help thinking about the brunch spot down in Richmond that she likes, and the bookstore over in Burnaby, and the hiking trails near the university. Well, maybe it's a bit too rainy for hiking, but if it lightens up a little then it wouldn't be bad at all under the trees.
When she comes back out of the bathroom, Rose checks her phone.
I'm also free. Did you want to train today? reads Svetlana's reply.
I think I need a day off from skating, but would you still like to meet up?, Rose replies. I've been to Vancouver before, so I could show you around. There's stuff to do even when it's raining, I promise!
Svetlana is not her guest. Rose needs to stop fretting. Svetlana is probably laughing at the way Rose is tripping over herself with offers.
Or maybe not. Svetlana claims that she would love a personal tour of the city, and agrees to meet up later that morning. Rose calls Phil, her driver, and then gets dressed, loads her purse for a rainy day out and about, and shrugs on her raincoat before running down to the lobby to meet Phil. On the drive over to Svetlana's hotel, Rose does some frantic research on her phone, and has thirteen tabs open for different attractions by the time they pull up to the curb.
Rose leans over to open the sliding door of the van, spots Svetlana just inside the glass lobby doors, and waves. Svetlana nods back and comes outside, the skirts of a trenchcoat swirling around her legs as she jogs over to the van, one hand shielding her face from the rain.
"You couldn't find a hat you liked?" asks Rose, once Svetlana has climbed inside and buckled her seatbelt.
Svetlana scowls, and shakes her head, flinging loose the raindrops that landed in her hair between the hotel and the car. A few lightly patter against Rose's sleeve.
"Nothing that would work while my hair is like this." She's tied most of her hair back into a short, fluffy ponytail. The locks at the front that have escaped being tied back have sprung into a riot of curls. "I should probably put it in braids, but that would take the entire afternoon." Svetlana shrugs, and turns from peering out the window to facing Rose across the narrow gap between their seats.
Rose quickly pulls her gaze up from Svetlana's boots – they're a dark blue that complements both the khaki trenchcoat and Svetlana's bare calves, and the cut makes her ankles look slim and graceful. Rose should ask her for the brand. Rose should not be thinking about unzipping them, and running her fingers from Svetlana's anklebone up to the back of her knee.
They're not appropriate boots for hiking, anyways. Rose can close two of the tabs on her phone.
"What would you like to do?" asks Rose, then quickly offers an option so that Svetlana isn't stuck with the entire burden of choice. "I don't have that much time to read very often, but there's this bookstore I really like, if you're interested?"
Svetlana blinks once, preoccupied with brushing the dampness out of her hair with quick, soft flicks of her fingers, but readily agrees. Rose gives the address to Phil, and silence falls as they start the drive out to Burnaby.
Rose chews her lower lip and tries to come up with something to say. Svetlana is watching the scenery out the window – well, scenery is an overstatement while they're still downtown. It's only buildings and cars as far as the eye can see. The buildings are uniformly boring, but in among the sedans and SUVs in shades of grey and black, a low-slung neon green sports car comes into view in oncoming traffic and passes them. Svetlana turns her head, keeping it in her field of vision for a little longer.
"Your job is something to do with cars, right?" Rose blurts out.
"Luxury car sales." Svetlana looks around at Rose, who tries to look more interested than desperate, and elaborates. "My specialty is imports. Mostly European brands right now, but it's why I met with Dongfang. Either they're competition, or new business, and either way it's helpful to know more."
"I didn't realize there'd be so much strategy behind it," Rose muses, even though she's mid-shoot on a movie she took on for purely strategic reasons. Every industry has its invisible web of influence and power.
"Shane would not have mentioned it, because he doesn't pay attention to things that are not hockey. Ilya probably doesn't realize I'm still doing this job, since he is no longer my best customer."
"Oh?"
"Very few of the cars I sell are good in the snow," Svetlana says dryly, "and he is always ready to complain to me about how much snow Ottawa gets."
The winters are something Rose doesn't miss about Grand Rapids. A few days a year of sub-zero temperatures and blizzards, when she visits her family at the holidays, are plenty of a reminder.
"Maybe I need a new car," Rose muses. "Or, you know, several."
"The famous Rose Landry would trust me to advise on such an important purchase?" Svetlana's teasing grin crinkles the corners of her eyes.
"The famous Rose Landry is trusting you to keep me from looking like an idiot on the ice," Rose reminds her.
"True." Svetlana has turned to face Rose head-on, an elbow planted on the armrest of her seat so that she can prop her chin on her knuckles. "You'd want something sporty, but graceful. Refined – not the classics, though, like Bentley or Aston Martin. Those are for bankers and lawyers." Svetlana taps her finger against her lips. "Something Italian, probably. Ferrari? The Amalfi is a good car for an L.A. movie star."
Rose hardly ever drives these days. Her 6-year-old Civic gets the job done on the rare occasions when she does, and she doesn't need a new car. But it's fun to think about.
"Yeah? What colours does it come in?"
Svetlana eagerly pulls out her phone, and Rose leans across the gap between their seats to make suitably admiring noises as Svetlana flips through an album of beautiful, expensive cars. It lasts them all the way to Burnaby, and then Phil pulls up outside the bookstore and Rose and Svetlana go darting through the rain and slip through the front door.
While they pause in the entryway to wipe their boots and shake off the rain, Rose says, "So, this floor is recent releases, but down in the basement there are a bunch of used books. I like to flip through those and find old, weird stuff."
Svetlana tips her head to the side. "Are the old, weird books any good?"
"Some of them," Rose hedges. She leads Svetlana further into the store, walking slowly so that she can scan titles as they pass by a table set up with bright stacks of newly-released paperbacks. "I'm interested in learning about storytelling from other times. Like, what people thought made a book good, or what they want from a story, has changed so much over the years."
Svetlana nods, distracted by one of the books on the table, which she picks up, flips over to read the back of, and then sets back down. She turns to Rose, looking far too stylish for this little, quirky bookstore.
"Show me these weird books, I'm curious."
The stairs down to the basement are in a back corner of the shop, hidden by a looming bookcase that's stuffed with bright rows of manga. Rose leads Svetlana down the worn wooden steps, into the low-ceilinged basement. It's one big open room, filled with rows of waist-height display tables, each packed with books of every size and vintage.
"Wow." Svetlana takes a few steps into the room, bootheels ringing on the bare concrete. She wanders among the tables, slowly scanning titles and occasionally picking up a book to look at more closely.
Rose watches for a few moments – the way Svetlana trails graceful fingers along spines, her attentive gaze while she's focused on the task at hand. It doesn't look like she's faking her interest. Rose breathes a muted sigh of relief and follows her down the aisles.
Instead of trying to go through hundreds of random books methodically, Rose prefers to wander and see what catches her eye. She likes biographies, and learning about the interesting, contradictory lives people lead; she likes romances because they're reliable and satisfying. Svetlana is still browsing by the time Rose has picked out two biographies and three romances – perfect for the many plane trips she takes – so Rose wanders over to the bulletin board at the foot of the staircase to see if there's anything odd or interesting.
"Oh, shit!" says Rose, much too loudly for being in a bookstore, even if they're the only ones here.
Svetlana appears at her side a moment later, and then scoffs, amused.
"It's not enough to be spending almost every day on the ice – you want to watch a game, too?" Her teasing is warm, but her eyebrows are still raised in disbelief as she looks at the poster advertising the month's WHL Vancouver Cormorants home games, with one against Toronto happening tonight.
"Shane dated me for my interest in hockey, not for my looks," says Rose primly.
Svetlana laughs, loud and bright, before quickly putting a hand over her mouth and getting herself under control. "Do you want to go, really?"
"Do you? We could probably get really good seats." Rose isn't going to pretend that being a movie star doesn't come with perks.
"It's good research, for your movie. I'll take notes," says Svetlana threateningly.
"It'll be fun! I haven't been to a game in ages." Rose is already tapping out a message to Mark, her agent, to ask about attending the game. It's better to warn public venues in advance before showing up with a retinue of staff and asking to use employee-only entrances.
"I haven't watched much women's hockey. I wonder how it compares," comments Svetlana.
"Yeah, that'll be interesting!" Rose says, distracted. Mark has already replied with questions about the location and when the game starts, and she's busy copying information over from a webpage to her messaging app. "I'm pretty sure there's a married lesbian couple in the league, but not on this team, I don't think." After only a moment, Mark confirms that he'll make arrangements. "Awesome! Okay, my agent's taking care of things. What do you want to do until the game?"
Rose looks up from her phone at last. Svetlana is watching her, something sharply curious in her gaze like she's expecting Rose to say more. It's only a fleeting moment, and then Svetlana's expression smooths out.
"What's your favourite restaurant here?" she asks.
They go upstairs and pay for their books, and then pile back into the van. The rain has lightened to a heavy mist, leaving Rose feeling damp but not soaked. She gives Phil the address of their next stop, and then she and Svetlana take turns showing each other the books they bought. Svetlana seems more interested in the biographies that Rose picked out than the romances; in return, she shows off three battered paperbacks – one with yellowed pages and a spaceship on the cover, one with a naked male torso and blocky lettering, and one with two people whose fingers are entangled even though they're facing away from each other. They might both be women? It's hard to tell from the lineless, simple art style.
Rose tries not to read too much into it. Even if Svetlana picked up a lesbian romance novel, that might not mean anything. Svetlana clearly has diverse tastes.
It's a little early for a meal, but that means that the restaurant is empty other than an elderly couple who are both slowly picking over their meals by one of the windows that faces the street. Rose and Svetlana are led to a quiet corner on the other side of the room – it's going to mean extra work for their server, who, at this hour, may be the hostess pulling double duty. Rose makes sure to effusively thank her for accommodating them.
Neither of them speak much during the meal, but it's not awkward. The view down to the harbour from this place is one of the things Rose likes about it, plus the food is good enough to demand attention. When they're about to head to a stadium, a quiet meal is a nice way to prepare for the noise and excitement.
Although they don't talk much, Rose gets interrupted by her phone going off several times with updates – first Mark confirming that everything's sorted out, and then a series of exchanges with the Cormorants' GM.
"Sorry," mumbles Rose, hurriedly flipping her phone face-down and setting it at the very edge of the table. She's flustered by the loud, insistent buzzing that keeps coming from her phone, and slightly chilled from sitting by a big, shady window while being somewhat dampened.
"I'm getting a glimpse of the glamorous movie-star lifestyle," says Svetlana, amused.
"What do you think of it so far?"
"Busy," declares Svetlana briskly.
That's accurate. Rose's phone buzzes again, and she huffs a laugh at Svetlana immediately being proven right.
Meal eaten, they pile back into the van. Phil doesn't need directions to the stadium, since it's a well-known landmark. He takes them around to the back of the building, and there's a staff member ready and waiting for them when they arrive, who ushers Rose and Svetlana into a nondescript door and down industrial hallways.
Their private box has a great view of the ice, which Rose is used to these days. Not having to stand in line for the public restrooms is alone a pretty fantastic perk of being famous.
The arena staff have set up a table of refreshments at the back of the box, which Rose ignores in favour of sitting all the way up at the front so she can watch the players warm up.
"Oh," says Rose, looking at the unfamiliar logos on the players' jerseys. "I don't know who to root for."
Svetlana sits down next to her, setting a mineral water in the cupholder and opening one of the little bags of pretzels from the refreshments table.
"Not Vancouver? You like this city," says Svetlana.
"I do! But I don't know if their team is any good."
Rose hadn't meant it to be a funny remark, but Svetlana laughs.
"Choose whoever has the prettier logo," she suggests, and then laughs harder at the expression on Rose's face, curls trembling around her face.
Rose's face is hot, a tangled mix of embarrassment and pleasure filling her chest at the combination of being teased, at Svetlana feeling at ease enough to tease her, at how particularly lovely she is when she's glowing with amusement.
Eyes still sparkling, Svetlana turns back to watching the ice. "So, you might root for Toronto?"
The Cormorants are on the side of the rink closer to them, facing away so that their names on the backs of their dark blue jerseys are visible. Across the ice, the Toronto Crowns are in white with bright blue trim – probably their away uniforms. It's a small enough league that if Rose were in charge, she would never let multiple teams pick blue.
"Well, no. I'll stick with Vancouver," Rose admits. "Toronto's awful."
"Really? I've never been there. Is it a terrible city?"
"I really hate their airport," mumbles Rose. It's a silly reason, and Svetlana laughs again.
"I'll support Vancouver, too. I like the city, so far. Now, if Boston was playing…" She shrugs, and picks another pretzel out of the little bag.
"Oh, of course. If Minnesota was playing, no question." Now that she knows which is her team, Rose twists around to contemplate the table of refreshments. Dinner was only a little while ago, but with all the training she's doing, she gets hungrier than she's used to.
"I thought you were from Michigan?"
"Midwestern solidarity! There's like, a shared culture."
"The shared culture of … cornfields?" Svetlana's brows are furrowed in bafflement.
"Cornfields, pickup trucks, jello salad." Rose starts listing off things that spring to mind, but breaks into laughter when Svetlana's expression twists into something closer to horror.
A comparison of their respective homelands' most polarizing dishes carries them all the way through to the first face-off, and then they're both fully focused on the ice.
It's great. Rose likes hockey, obviously, and the play doesn't stop for fighting as often as in men's leagues. By the end of the first period, she's decided that Vancouver's second offensive line is her favourite after the center sets up the two wingers to pull off a lightning-fast goal.
"Have you gone to any WHL games in Boston?" asks Rose, while they're standing at the back of the box, taking a break from being close enough to the glass to be spotted by cameras. They've been up on the jumbotron twice already tonight, and Rose missed seeing an impressive save from the Cormorants' goalie because she had to smile and wave.
Svetlana shrugs. "A few times, only when the Raiders haven't made it to the playoffs. The seasons overlap, and I always went to Ilya's games, since he didn't have anyone else in Boston," she adds.
"I'm glad you were there for him." Rose hadn't known anyone in L.A. other than her agent when she moved, and it was terribly lonely at first. A single friend would have made a world of difference.
Svetlana looks surprised, which is fair, since Rose isn't especially close to Ilya. He's always been aloof with her, which is understandable, since she did date his husband at one point.
Before Rose can explain, the teams start streaming back onto the ice for the second period, and she and Svetlana hurry back to their seats. They shouldn't have bothered, though, because Vancouver's defense lets in two goals within the first five minutes, and then spends the rest of the period scrambling to hold Toronto off. At the second break, Rose retreats to the back of the box again so that the jumbotron doesn't catch her looking annoyed. She's beginning to regret cheering for Vancouver.
Svetlana murmurs something about stepping out for a moment, and leaves. For the next few minutes, Rose tries to imagine how, as a player, it must feel to have a game take a sudden turn like this – it's a good exercise for her role, at least.
When Svetlana comes back, she's holding two takeaway coffee cups, and offers one to Rose.
"Here."
Rose takes it, the cardboard warm in her hands, and takes a cautious sip, expecting terrible bitter stadium coffee. But it's hot chocolate – made from a cheap bulk mix, of course; there's an unmistakable waxy wateriness to it. The sweetness and warmth are cheering though.
"Thanks," mumbles Rose.
"You're a loyal fan already, if you're this annoyed by sloppy playing."
"They went from a two-goal lead to being tied!"
"It's hard to cheer for a team when they fuck up," Svetlana agrees. The half-empty seats all over the stadium are starting to fill up again, as the countdown to the third period ticks down. "But their goalie is good, and their second line."
Rose perks up as she follows Svetlana back to their seats. "Their second line is great, they're so in tune with each other."
"Do you have a favourite player?" Svetlana asks, dropping into her seat and setting a bag of caramel popcorn on her lap, close to the armrest.
Taking another sip of hot chocolate, Rose mulls the question over. "Not really? The three of them play together really well, I can't really pick just one of them."
"Surprising that you like team players more than a superstar." Svetlana gives Rose a meaningful glance, not quite suppressing a smile.
"To watch, not to date!" protests Rose, and then immediately backtracks. "Actually, I have no idea. Maybe they'd all be fantastic girlfriends."
Rose reaches over to take some popcorn, and happens to meet Svetlana's eyes. She's watching Rose with the same intense, expectant expression from before, when they were at the bookstore. Under the weight of her gaze, Rose flushes hot, flailing frantically for understanding – she has no idea what she's supposed to say, and everything she can think of is definitely incorrect, but she wants so badly to give Svetlana whatever it is she's searching for in Rose's gaze.
The crowd around them surges from a low mumble of conversation to scattered cheering as the players clatter back out onto the ice. The moment is broken. Rose turns back to the watch the ice, her heartbeat pounding in her throat.
Energized by hot chocolate and popcorn, Rose is a more lively audience member for the final period. It's more fun to cheer a team on than to complain that they're not doing what you want them to, anyways. She and Svetlana end up on the jumbotron again when they both jump to their feet in celebration when Vancouver scores, eight minutes into the period. A little private, silly part of Rose feels like she's contributing.
The rest of the game is decreasingly exciting from there. The Cormorants' defense is alert, shutting down Toronto's attempts to score, and the offense keeps fighting to get possession the puck, giving the defense time to catch their breath. With two minutes to go, Toronto pulls their goalie, but it doesn't end up making a difference in the end – Vancouver wins, 3 to 2.
"That was great!" Rose is buoyed up by the bubbly feeling of a victory, shared with a whole crowd and with the person at her side.
Svetlana smiles in response to Rose's wide grin. "It was a good game," she agrees.
With the game concluded, they don't linger. There's a chance of a sunny day tomorrow, which would mean an early call time to be on set for Rose, so that they can pack as much filming as possible while the weather is good. On their way out, escorted by stadium staff, they pass a bathroom in the quiet back corridors, and Rose insists on stopping before they're stuck in a car for the drive back to the hotel.
"I'll come as well," says Svetlana, and follows her in.
They haven't yet reached the stage of friendship of chatting while they pee, but when they're back outside of the stalls washing their hands, Rose realizes that it's the only private moment they've had all day, between Phil driving them around, the waitstaff at lunch, and the arena staff checking on them while they were watching the game. This is her chance.
She clears her throat.
"I've had a really nice time today," says Rose, nervously uncrumpling the paper towel she just used to dry her hands and starting to fold it evenly into halves, then quarters, then eighths.
Svetlana looks up from washing her hands, and smiles. "I have, too."
It's her polished, camera-ready smile, carefully polite, and something hot and frustrated twists Rose's gut. They only have a few minutes before they're surrounded by people again, and Rose struggles to carefully fit together the right words to ask without presuming, to invite without pressure, so that she doesn't make things awkward when they'll be working together for a few more weeks.
Instead, she blurts out, "Was this a date? Or – would you like it to be?"
The polite mask slips away. Svetlana stares at her for a moment, before pointing one dripping hand at her and exclaiming, "You were doing it on purpose! I knew it!"
What?
"What?"
Svetlana flicks her hands over the sink, shaking off water droplets, and then strides across the room to the paper towel dispenser, snatching one, then a second and drying her hands with brisk movements. "Talking about lesbians! I kept thinking you were going to – I don't know, flirt, or ask me if I was bi, or something. But every time, you just changed the subject!"
"What do you mean, every time?" Rose racks her brain, and then her memory snags on a moment earlier in the day. "Wait, you picked out a lesbian romance book – was that on purpose?"
Svetlana folds her arms. "Yes! I thought you noticed, and that was why you mentioned the married WHL players!"
They stare each other down for a moment, both of them still holding damp paper towels they've yet to throw out. The noise of the departing crowd is muffled in this remote corner of the stadium.
"So. This was a date?" asks Rose, looking down at her hands to try to hide the goofy smile tugging at her lips.
"You haven't asked me out properly," says Svetlana primly, but when Rose glances up at her through the locks of auburn hair shading her face, Svetlana is fighting a grin, too.
"Svetlana," Rose takes a step forward, closing the gap between them, "Will you – well, I guess it's already happened. So, will you have gone on a date with me?"
"I would be delighted to have gone on a date with you," Svetlana echoes back, fighting a grin. She doesn't step closer, but her folded arms fall open and her chin tips up, her body angling towards Rose like a sunflower facing the sun.
"Here, let me –" Rose takes the damp paper towels from Svetlana's hand, balls them up with hers, and takes a large step to the side to quickly throw them away. She misjudges her return and nearly collides with Svetlana, but both of them just break into giggles, Svetlana's hands coming up to her hips to steady her. She presses their laughing mouths together, a warm spark of possibility flaring when their lips meet.
Rose has never been happier to have taken a role.