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"No."
"You didn't even fucking hear me out!"
"I have fucking heard you out, because this is the fifth fucking time you've been in front of me complaining about the exact same thing. And yet, you bring me no new solutions." Rebecca raises her eyebrows at Roy. "Do you?"
"So what, you're saying I have to fucking solve this? You're the bloody owner!"
"And you're the manager, Roy! You have to actually manage some things once in a while! If you didn't want to do that, then why did you accept the job?"
"Because! Because I..." He trails off, and they both look at each other, quiet, leaving the known unsaid.
She rolls her lips into her mouth and gives him a pasted-on smile, the 'I'm not fucking around anymore' one that never bodes well for him. "Right," she says. "You'd rather run the Academy, I get that, I do. And I actually think you'd be rather good at it."
"You do." He's too skeptical to phrase it as a question.
She huffs irritatedly. "Yes, Roy, I do. I have actually been listening to the points you've been making between all that whining." The look she fixes him with heats the back of his neck. "But my point still stands. Both Beard and Nate have said they don't want it. Nate, maybe in a year or two but he's not ready to take on that level of responsibility again. And I'm not comfortable bringing someone completely new in yet, not in our first season after the departure of..." She cuts off. She's taken to treating Ted's name the way Beard treats saying the 'Y' word (and alright, so maybe that part's rubbed off on Roy too).
She takes a deep breath. "Look. The season will be over in a couple of months. I know it's been frustrating. But it's an adjustment period, for you, for the boys...It'll be easier next year. We'll hire a new assistant coach so that Nathan can support you better, and then if you still want out after that, we can revisit this then."
She must see something mulish in his face because she softens. "I need to protect his legacy, Roy. He's built something special here, and I'm not ready to hand that over to just anybody. It's too important. Can't you see that?"
He sighs, slouching back in his chair. "Yeah." He rubs both hands over his face tiredly. "Yeah, I do."
"Good," she says. "Now if that's all, I'd like to get back to my Sunday in peace."
He stumbles to his feet at the dismissal, clearing his throat.
"Hey," he says, paused in the doorway, head turned over his shoulder.
She hums in response.
"So if I can figure out an arrangement that only involves coaching staff that were around during Ted's time here, you'd be open to that?"
"If you can get those involved to agree to it, I'd be willing to consider it." She's clearly placating him, doesn't think he can come up with anything beyond all the options they've already considered. But that's fine. He just needed to know that she's still open to new ideas.
"Alright," he says before giving her a small salute. "Thanks, boss. I'll see you tomorrow."
He tries not to think about the sad look that had passed across her face at his use of ‘boss’. He can't deal with any additional distractions now.
He's got a flight to catch.
Rebecca's been trying her best to have a good time at tonight's end-of-season celebrations. After all, she'd spent weeks planning this stupid party. The least she can do is get a little joy out of it, and if not joy, then at least a damn good buzz.
But her heart isn't really in it. The champagne sits sour instead of deliciously dry on her tongue, the laughter and warm chatter around her alienating instead of inviting. It's the first event she's been to since she and Mathijs ended things, and, she's realising, the first time she's ever actually felt alone at one of these since before she hired Ted.
Keeley said she'd try to drop by later but she's stuck late at some shoot with a client, sending Rebecca enough sad emojis to span the entire length of her phone screen. Rebecca looks up from re-checking the timestamp on her message to find Roy watching her from across the room.
He's been acting weirdly enough tonight that Rebecca's starting to wonder if there's something else going on. She hopes not. Those two finally seem like they're in a decent place, after a long painful year of working things through.
She heads towards him, deciding his love life is a good enough distraction for her tonight as any.
"You doing okay?" she asks when she's closed the gap, no preamble.
"Fine," he grunts. A waiter sweeps by them with a tray of champagne glasses and Roy snags his other arm, halting him in place so he can grab two.
He proffers one to her, and as soon as Rebecca shakes her head, he immediately pulls it back and downs it.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asks, brow furrowed.
"Yep," he replies easily, dropping the empty on the table behind him. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, other hand wrapped tight around the stem of the still-full glass. "You meant it before, right?" he says, and she raises her eyebrows. "About considering it if I brought you other options?"
She blows out sharply through her nose. "You're not still on about the manager position again are you? Because I don't think now is the fucking place to—"
"Yes or no," he says abruptly. His gaze flicks over her shoulder before landing back on hers.
"I...yes, I meant it," she replies, thrown.
"Right." She watches with widening eyes as he downs the other glass. "I've got to go. For a few minutes, I mean. I'm not going-going..." He slams his mouth shut, shaking his head at himself. "I'll be around."
"What—" She watches him disappear into the crowd, her skin prickling nervously. It suddenly feels like something big is on the horizon, and her eyes dart over the room, hoping against hope that she's not about to get an unwanted party crasher again.
A tap on her shoulder startles her, pulling her out of her building anxious thoughts but sending a stab of nerves through her gut. She pulls in a slow deep breath and holds it in her lungs for a moment, and as she lets it out through her lips she finally turns around.
"Hi, Boss."
Rebecca blinks, trying to reconcile the image of Ted standing in front of her, fully dressed to impress like he'd been here all along, with the reality she knows to be true.
"Ted." she breathes out, can't even find it in her to give proper voice to his name. "What—what are you doing here?"
"Hey, Rebecca." His cheeks dimple with that familiar smile, that achingly soft one he saves for their quietest moments, his deep brown eyes as warm as ever. "I hear y'all have a job opening."
She stares at him, uncomprehending, for long enough that he presses on, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
"I know you're in the middle of a swingin' party and all, and I don't want to trod all over what sure seems like a heckin' good time, but I was hoping now would be a good time to interview? I've got great references." He hesitates. "I think." His mouth twists. "Truth be told, my second to last boss might be a little peeved with me on account a the way I—"
He cuts off with a soft ‘oof’ as she throws herself into his arms. He immediately wraps them around her, his low chuckle vibrating through her entire frame.
"I missed you so much," she whispers into his ear, easy to do with her cheek this firmly pressed against his.
His arms tighten their hold. "I missed you too," he murmurs, and for the first time since she stood at that airport gate all those months ago, she feels her heart settle back into its rightful place.
She doesn't know how long they stand like that, wrapped so tight around each other even a slip of paper wouldn't get through. Everyone and everything around them has fallen away — everything except Ted, filling up her senses with his solid warmth and gentle softness and comforting soothing scent.
"Ted!"
Keeley's shriek is apparently the one exception to the rule. They break apart as she approaches, and he turns away briefly to swipe at his eyes before spinning full on towards Keeley.
"Keeley!" he exclaims back, mimicking her tone.
Rebecca wipes at her own eyes as she watches them exchange a brief hug before Keeley pulls Ted back by his shoulders.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asks, expression wondrous.
"Roy didn't tell you?" Ted asks, flipping his gaze up to Roy, who’d shown up right on Keeley’s heels.
Roy wraps his arm around Keeley’s waist as he answers, “Didn’t want to fucking risk it and have to deal with this one, and let's be honest, that one too because there's no fucking way she'd have kept it a secret from her," — he nods his head in Rebecca's direction — "getting all mopey and sad ‘cos they'd got their bloody hopes up for fucking nothing at all."
Rebecca decides she’s better off not acknowledging any of that. "Alright, so what are you doing here then?" she asks.
"I told ya. I'm hopin' for a job interview."
Keeley's eyes grow wide, flicking between him and Rebecca while Rebecca's mouth flaps open and closed inelegantly.
"I thought you were joking."
Ted’s brow furrows. "Now why on Earth would I joke about something as important as all that?"
"Right," she says suddenly. "This isn't the place for this conversation."
"Yeah, and unless you're ready to face the whole fucking team, I think you'd better make a break for it soon,” Roy says. “Thank fuck they’re all already well on their way to smashed or they probably wouldn’t have missed Keeley's not-so-fucking-subtle approach." Keeley sticks her tongue out at him and he shakes his head, unmistakably fond.
"Well, now that you mention it, I was actually hoping to say a quick hello to—" Ted cuts off as Rebecca's hand lands firmly on his forearm.
"First you and I need to talk," she says, gripping tight to him as she makes for the door at the back.
He doesn't say anything as she all but drags him along behind her, and when she throws a glance over her shoulder, momentarily worried about her forceful behaviour, he's looking at her with such fondness she quickly turns her head forward again so she doesn't combust with it.
She maneuvers them into the small room she'd used as her staging area earlier that day and closes and locks the door behind her.
"No more interruptions," she says in answer to his raised eyebrows. "Enough messing around, Ted. Is that really why you're here?"
He nods, hands up as if in defense. "I mean it, Rebecca. I know I left you in the lurch, and I know you wanted to work with me to figure out ways I could stay.” Her heart jolts at the reminder. “But I..." He trails off, rolling his lips into his mouth, dimples peeking out. There’s a moment when he looks like he’s going to reach out to her, his fingers twitching, but then he blinks away the faraway look in his eye and his hand falls back to his side.
"Anyway, Roy told me he's looking for someone to backfill his position. Heck, he flew all the way to Kansas to lay it all out for me, and then I got on the horn with Higgins just to make sure this wasn't some sort of elaborate stunt for the new season of Punk'd. By the way, Ron Perlman? Not so sure he's the right choice for host for this kinda thing. But then again, who am I to assume what sorta experience and demeanour makes one best qualified for a particular job?" He grins when she lets out a little breathless laugh at that, barely audible over the thundering in her ears. His smile softens, expression sobering as he meets her eyes with intent. "Anyway I'd love to throw my hat in the ring, if you'll have me."
She thinks about the texts and phone conversations and FaceTimes they'd been having, combing her memory for hints this might happen. "You really meant it, before," she says, stunned by the realisation. "When you told me you didn't feel like this Kansas thing was working out so well. It wasn't just an overreaction to a bad day?" She steps forward, face falling into a frown. "The way you said it was when I asked you about it the very next time we talked?"
He looks at her somberly, hands shoved in his pockets. "I really wanted to make it work. I did." He looses one hand to shove the stray hairs back from his forehead, and the gesture is so heartachingly familiar she feels lightheaded for a second. "But it turns out if you talk to a good therapist for long enough you're bound to make some progress, whether you mean to or not. And sometimes that progress means learning how to make choices that are best for everyone, instead of assumin' things and making sacrifices that...maybe don't need to be made. Arse out of me and you, and all that," he adds with a wry smile.
He shakes his head. "But it's not just—" He takes a deep breath, speaking more deliberately now. "When I was here the first time round, it’s like…I don’t think I was actually really here, y’know? I didn’t really sink my teeth into this whole life-changing adventure sandwich I’d found on my plate. Not like Beard did. I was just…nibblin’ round the edges, too stuck in the past. It was like when I was counting down the months for Henry to visit, and that was all I could think about, but then when he finally got here, instead of bein’ present and spendin’ time with him, all I did was fret about Michelle and some jerk who doesn’t even matter no more. It was…I dunno, all this time it was kinda like…like my brain and my body couldn’t stand to be in the same place as each other. Hey, sorta like Roy and Jamie back at my very first one of these shindigs.”
She chuckles, though it sounds wet to her own ears. “And yet,” she points out, “even without being, as you say, fully here, you still managed to get them talking to each other by the end of the night without any bloodshed.”
He shrugs noncommittally. “Yeah, but that sorta thing…helpin’ people without really comin’ too close…been doin’ it for years. It’s easy. Now, lettin’ people help me…” He tilts his head at her. “Well, you’re pretty familiar with my track record on that.”
She swallows hard. She’s never heard him admit anything close to this so freely.
“Anyway,” he says, rocking onto the balls of his feet before settling back on his heels. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is…I wasn’t ready, before. And so I didn’t really open myself up to the possibilities of…” He pauses, as if casting about for the right words. “...of Richmond. I—I wasn’t ready to let...Richmond...see me the way I saw it.” His voice softens. “And I think because of that I missed out on something that could've been real special."
She holds her breath, frozen in place as his eyes scan over her face as if in search of something.
He turns away before she knows if he’s found it, doing a slow wander around the room as he continues talking.
"But I'm ready now," he says, picking up a spare bit of fabric from a last minute furnishing decision. He flicks a glance at her before resuming his exploring. "At least, I think I am. I think I've been ready for awhile, if I'm bein' honest. But I didn't want to be presumptuous, not after the way I left y—things. And then Roy showed up and it's like fate itself had intervened in the form of one grumpy ex-footballer turned begrudging Premier League manager, and I..." He completes his small lap of the space, coming to a stop in front of her once more. "I just didn't know how to say no anymore,” he finishes with a shrug. “I guess the only question now is...if you still do."
"Ted," she says quietly, emotion bleeding clearly into her voice, "do you think I've ever known how to say no to you?"
His eyebrows rise gently, eyes wide and soft as they look upon her. The air between them is suspended between breaths.
"You don't need to interview," she says, tearing her gaze away with a clearing of her throat. "Of course you don't. The position is yours if you want it."
He steps closer, just a hair’s breadth between their feet. "And...Richmond? Do you think it'll give me a second chance at tryin’ for that something special? Even—Even after I took it so much for granted, turning it away each time it reached out?"
She swallows hard. She wants to say yes to what he's really asking. She thinks it's probably the truth. But she's built new fences since he hopped over her last ones, and while she doesn't doubt he'll eventually make his way over those too, she's not sure that means she's ready to pull them down for him just yet.
She lifts her head, finding him watching her with a stillness so unnatural to him that she gifts him with a small smile to bolster her words. "I guess you'll just have to move back here and find out."
"Yeah?" he breathes. "So there's a chance? A second chance chance?"
She tries to fight the smile breaking out in the corner of her lips but it's a losing battle if she’s ever seen one. "Yes," she says, and then she finally gives in and lets the hope and joy flow through her, letting it out of its cage to show on her face, "I think there is."
The grin that splits his face is breathtaking, like staring at the sun itself, and she wraps him up in another hug so she doesn't have to look at it anymore (and not at all because she's already missing the feel of him in her arms once more).
She laughs into his shoulder as a sudden thought strikes her and he pulls back enough to look at her, still grinning wide. “What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “I was just thinking…” She closes the gap between them again, chin hooked over his shoulder and fingers pressing into his back as she says lightly, “You’re a much better party crasher than the last one.” And as his answering laugh rumbles through her chest, she shuts her eyes and smiles, settling into the feeling of home.