Chapter Text
“Are you expecting a package from your parents?” Steph was holding up one of those red and white plastic Canada Post envelopes as she opened the door to their apartment. It was one of the bigger ones, and as she waved it around, Alex could see that there was something soft and flexible inside.
“No,” Alex said. She was sitting in the armchair by the window, making the most of the day’s last light while fiddling with a new story on her laptop. She felt a confused tightness between her eyebrows. “Show me?”
Steph shut the door, locked it, brought the package over to Alex.
Alex looked at it as Steph held it in front of her. It wasn’t either of her parents’ handwriting, and the envelope was addressed to ‘Alexandra Chernenko and Steph.’ Then she saw the return address: Grandview Road.
Alex’s head jolted back up, their eyes meeting. “I think this is from Rozanov and Hollander.”
Steph blinked. “Really?” She looked at the package again.
“I know they live out in Crystal Bay, and Grandview is the main residential street that runs through the neighbourhood.” Alex gave her head a shake. “What the fuck?”
“They have our home address?” Steph said.
“I can’t imagine how.” Alex reached for her phone. “Although I guess if you’re Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander, you can probably get your hands on any address you want.”
One corner of Steph’s mouth quirked up. “It’s addressed to both of us, so I guess that means I don’t have to wait for you to open it.” She tore into the thin plastic, gave it a shake.
A pair of Ottawa Centaurs jerseys tumbled out onto Alex’s lap: red on black.
“Oh my god.” Alex felt a wash of heat in her face, and she clapped both hands over her mouth.
Steph picked them up, one in each hand. There was one with each name: Hollander, Rozanov. She started to laugh.
“Oh my god,” Alex repeated, and then she was laughing, too, a round, full sound from somewhere deep in her stomach. It was so ludicrous, so them.
Steph ran a finger over the cartoon drawing of a centaur playing hockey. “Wow, that logo really is something up close.”
“Yeah, the players all think so too.” She tilted her head at Steph. “They said we should call.”
“Definitely,” Steph said with a vigorous nod.
Alex thumbed back to their group chat, hit the FaceTime icon in the upper right hand corner. The pair of them appeared on the little screen, both laughing hard: Hollander flushed and smiling ear to ear, Rozanov doubled over with a cackle that had him constantly moving out of frame. They were in some airport lounge somewhere, and Alex could see a couple of the other Centaurs in street clothes milling around in the background.
“I’m still a journalist, dumbass!” Alex yelled at the screen, but her grin was so wide her face was starting to ache.
“Which one is dumbass?” Rozanov asked. He pointed at Hollander. “He bought them.”
Hollander pointed at Rozanov. “Yeah, well, he mailed them.”
“I can’t wear your fucking jersey!” Alex said, shaking her head. “Either one of them!”
“I guess they’re both mine, then,” Steph said, snatching one in each hand. She held one up against her chest, and Alex held up the phone so that they could see. Rozanov started laughing so hard Alex was sure the whole team could hear it.
Steph pulled it over her head, letting the other one drop to the floor as she pulled her arms through it. It was at least two sizes too big, but she spread a hand flat against the logo on her chest and looked at Alex’s phone with such a proud, delighted smile that the guys couldn’t help but echo it back.
“Is perfect,” Rozanov said. “Steph will wear one of them now, yes? And Chernenko, you will keep other one and wear it after you retire.”
“You do know journalists don’t retire at forty, right?” Alex said through a fresh burst of giggles.
“You know hockey jerseys don’t have an expiry date, right?” Hollander countered.
“What a great present,” Steph said, holding up either side of the logo on the front and looking down again. “Thank you.”
“Thanks from me too,” Alex said, picking up the second jersey from the floor and draping it over her arm. “Even if I can’t wear your jerseys because I’m still a journalist, thank you very much.”
“We will see you in your street clothes then. In two weeks.” Rozanov said.
Alex shook her head. “Two weeks?”
“Is when we play New Jersey.”
Alex’s smile came back, even bigger. That would be a nice reunion. “I’m counting on it.”
They signed off, each with a little wave, and then were gone.
Steph made a beeline for the bathroom, Alex trailing behind with the other jersey still draped over her arm. Steph stood tall in front of the mirror, rolling up the sleeves a little at the ends, tucking one side of it into the elastic of her pants. Then she turned around and posed: one hand on her hip, the other arm outstretched in a ‘ta-da’.
“Look at you, you’re drowning in that thing,” Alex said. She pushed the jersey up at Steph’s waist and reached inside with both hands to underscore the point, and immediately got distracted by Steph’s breasts. “We could fit two of you in there,” Alex insisted.
“Your mouth speaks criticism but your hands reveal their own truth,” Steph said with a smirk.
It could have been a quote from something, it could have been her own words—you never knew with Steph. Not that it mattered, it was hot either way. Alex gave the collar of Steph’s jersey—Steph’s hockey jersey, oh my god—a tug downward, pulling her into a kiss. From inside the jersey, she could feel Steph’s heart speeding up under her other hand.
“So what I’m learning here is that I don’t need lingerie, just a hockey jersey,” Steph said, grabbing the second jersey from Alex’s arm and wrapping it around Alex to pull her closer. Alex could smell her shampoo: flowers, herbs, home.
“These things are waaay more expensive than some cute little nightie,” she said, her hand moving around to the back of the jersey, giving the fabric a little tug.
“Well, then I’m extra glad I finally own one now,” Steph mumbled against Alex’s neck. “Mmm, such a nice present. You will have to give me their numbers so I can thank them again.”
Alex pushed back to look at her, suddenly serious. “Getting to be here with you during the season is an even better present,” she said.
“Really?” Steph’s smile faded a bit. “I know you didn’t exactly leave Ottawa because you wanted to.”
“Being here makes it all worth it,” Alex said, nodding. Just now, that wasn’t even feeling like an exaggeration.
Steph lit up like the sun: a smile so big that it took over her face, her eyes shining.
Alex’s thumb traced the hollow at the nape of Steph’s neck, the slope of her chin, the angle of her cheekbone. Like so many things Alex ended up doing, it had been more chance than intent, but once again she had ended up stumbling into exactly the right place.
Steph leaned down, touching her forehead to Alex’s. “Hi.”
Alex gave her forehead a nuzzle back with her own, let her eyes flutter closed. “Hi.”