Steves On A Plane Fan Fics

“Since when do you tell your ma not to let me in?” Buck asked, swinging the bedroom door open wide. He had to hold back a gasp when he laid his eyes on Steve. His friend was pale and sweating, despite the cool spring air coming from the bedroom’s open window. Rogers was already pretty scrawny, but when he got sick like this, he was practically skin and bones. 

“Hey, B-buck.” Steve greeted him, trying to hold back a shiver. “S-should’ve known you w-wouldn’t listen. D-didn’t w-ant you getting…” The rest of the sentence trailed off as Steve was racked with a coughing fit.

“What is it this time? The flu?” Bucky moved to lean on Steve’s dresser. He folded his arms over his chest assessing his best friend. It had been a while since Steve had been this sick. So long that Bucky has started to think maybe the guy had actually built an immune system.

“W-we think so.” Steve shivered again. he was tried to prop himself up against the headboard, but the motion had him winded before he even made it halfway. Bucky crossed the room in two strides and adjusted the pillows behind him.

So much for that date. Bucky signed internally. Steve wasn’t going anywhere in this condition. The last time he had the flu, he was bedridden for a week and a half. Bucky didn’t mention the movie to him. Telling Steve would have only made him feel guilty that he was too sick to go. Instead, he moved over to the bookshelf and looked for something to read. The flashy title Murder on the Orient Express caught his eye.

“Move over, would ya? You’re hogging the bed.” He teased sitting on the bed next to Steve. 

“T-that’s because it’s made f-for one person.” Steve managed, as Buck now too leaned against the headboard. Sharing the bed with Steve was like sitting next to a feather. If he hadn’t watched Steve lean his head and left shoulder against Bucky’s right, he might not have felt it at all. 

“Good thing I’m so small then.” Bucky commented, opening the book. This earned him a wheezing chuckle from Steve. 

“It was five o’clock on a winter’s morning in Syria. Alongside the platform at Aleppo stood the train grandly designated in railway guides as the Taurus Express. It consisted of a kitchen and dining-car, a sleeping-car and two local coaches…” Bucky began to read, because that’s what he did when Steve was too sick to play or go out. For as long as they’d been friends Bucky would read and Steve would listen until he eventually fell asleep. 

It seemed that Steve only managed a deep sleep when he was sick. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was that Rogers had been sick most of his life and refused to miss a moment on healthy days, or that the guy was so full of pride and passion, God had to balance the scales by giving him a cripplingly weak immune system. If for no reason other than to force Steve Rogers to slow down once and awhile. 

The sun had long gone down by the time Bucky finished the book. Steve was out cold, his weak breathing sounding moderately better that when Bucky arrived. At least that’s what he told himself. Sarah came to check on the boys and turn the lights out. She wasn’t the least bit surprised to see James propped up on her son’s bed. The two of them leaning against each other. 

“You tell your folks that you’d be staying the night?” Mrs. Barnes asked with her hands on her hips. 

“Not that they’d care.” Bucky said with a yawn. “But I left a note.” That seemed to satisfy her as she crossed the room and place the back of her hand on Steve’s forehead.

By the time Steve was well enough to go out to the movies again, Snow White had been pulled from the theaters. The Adventures of Robin Hood and Gangs of New York just didn’t have the same draw to them as the first full length cartoon had. So, Bucky put his pocket money away in an old sock, and along with it the speech he had mentally prepared about how their first date could be a new beginning for both of them. 

The second time had taken him almost completely by surprise. Bucky and Steve were down at the soda shop. Rogers was drinking a float because too much soda water upset his stomach. While Bucky picked at a basket of fries and sipped from his sarsaparilla.

“Did you notice Ma and I have got new neighbors?” Steve asked. He looked around the diner before allowing his voice to drop. “They’re very modern.” He added, implying something Bucky didn’t exactly understand. Bucky leaned in close, also dropping his voice. 

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked reaching for another fry.

“I mean…well they’re two gals. Living together. Ma asked ‘em a few questions just being nice, you know? They’re not sisters or cousins. One of them said they ‘take care of each other.’ I think they’re…well.” Steve raised his eyebrows waiting for Bucky to understand. When his friend still didn’t answer, Steve leaned in even closer, speaking almost inaudibly. “Together.”

“Together, together?” Bucky repeated the word with a tone that implied he now understood.

“Yeah, like that.” Steve nodded. He used Bucky’s moment of confusion to steal a fry. Bucky dropped the fry he’d been holding. He leaned back in his chair. It was the first time either of them acknowledged that a relationship like that could exist. He had to navigate the conversation carefully. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. A couple of dames, huh? That’s…different.” He hedged carefully.

“They seem nice.” Steve shrugged. He looked down at his float and swirled the ice cream into the soda. “One of ‘em works at the library. The other one is a nurse, I think.”

“Your ma okay with it?” Bucky asked.

“She said it’s none of her business who people keep company with. Long as they keep their radio down after ten.” Steve shrugged, looking up from his treat.

“That sounds like your ma, alright.” Bucky smirked. 

“They seem happy.” Steve added quietly. 

Bucky stared at Steve a second longer than was polite, his mind running laps. Not because of the neighbors, but because of Steve. The way he said it. They seem happy. Like it mattered. Like he’d been thinking about that a lot lately. Bucky wondered if he would make Steve happy. He didn’t mean to think it, He’d practically written away his feelings for Steve as a boyhood crush a couple years ago. But the idea had come to him anyway.

Bucky looked away, reaching for his drink mostly to have something to do with his hands. The sarsaparilla had gone warm, but he sipped it anyway. Across from him, Steve was chewing on his straw, eyes a little distant like he was somewhere else entirely. 

“Why’d you bring it up?” He asked, trying to get Steve to come back from wherever he’d gone. 

“Just thinking about it, I guess.” Steve shrugged, still seeming very far away. 

“Y’know,” Bucky said finally, “I think that’s all I ever wanted. For you, I mean. To be happy.”

Steve blinked, turning his head toward him slowly. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Bucky gave a weak little laugh. “You talk about other people being happy like it’s some far-off thing. But you can have that too.” Now he had Steve’s attention. The blonde man was staring at him, as if seeing his best friend in a new light. Steve watched him for a long time. So long Bucky almost squirmed in his seat. Instead, he leaned forward and resumed picking at his fries.

“You ever think about it?” Steve wondered, somehow lowering his voice even more. Bucky had to strain to hear him now. “About what that kind of happy looks like for you?”

Bucky’s fingers froze mid-reach, hovering just above a particularly greasy fry. His eyes flicked up, uncertain. He hadn’t expected that question. Not from Steve. Not now. Hell, not ever. He thought about how the world would never really make room for people like the new neighbors, not without a price. But Steve was watching him like he already knew the answer. Like he was just waiting for Bucky to say it out loud.

“Sometimes.” He nodded in response. “Not in a real way, though. Just little things. A front porch swing. Quiet mornings reading a book. Someone who sees me.” 

Steve nodded like he understood, and Bucky got the sense that he did. Not just because he’d had the same thoughts himself, but because Steve had always understood him better than anyone. Steve let the silence stretch between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It was… thoughtful. Like both of them were trying to figure out if something had just shifted, and what it might mean if it had.

“Well whatever the future holds,” Bucky said, leading the conversation away from the topic before either of them said something they couldn’t take back. “We’ll still be together, watching your awful films, me telling you about books I read that you don’t care about, you stealing my food.” Bucky gestured to Steve’s hand that hovered over the fry basket. 

“C’mon! They’ve gone cold, you’re not even eating them.” Steve defiantly selected one of the fries and dipped it into his float. 

“What are you doing? That’s horrifying!” Bucky was repulsed by his snacking choice. 

“It’s delicious!” Steve insisted. “Here, trying one.” Steve took a new fry, dipped it in his float and held it out to Bucky.

“Ugh, no!” Buck leaned back in his chair. The atmosphere had shifted back to their usual playful banter. Steve didn’t press the issue. He just laughed soft and warm, the kind of laugh Bucky hadn’t realized he’d missed until it was filling the space between them again. 

The third time, it was New Years Eve, 1941, about to be 1942. The pair had climbed to the roof of Steve’s building to watch the fireworks together. Due to the wartime restrictions, Manhattan wouldn’t have its usual flashy display, but there’d be roman candles, firecrackers and plenty of sparklers going off in the neighborhood and across the boroughs. A six pack of beer bottles sat between their feet. Bucky leaned on the wall overlooking the street and watched as some of the neighbor kids raced through the block. Steve was sitting down, leaning against the wall, facing away from the street. Another rejection letter from the Army was gripped between his hands. 

“Will you stop reading that thing and enjoy one of our last nights together before I’m sent out?” Bucky asked, taking a swig of his beer. 

“I can’t help it.” Steve declared before stuffing the letter into his coat pocket. He was still facing away from Buck. “Feels wrong you going and me just…well what am I gonna do? Doodle some propaganda posters and collect tin cans?” With one last look down at the city Buck turned and sat opposite Steve. The two now sat facing each other and looking anywhere but. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Least of all me.” Bucky insisted.

Steve gave a tight smile. “I know that’s what you think. I know you mean it. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to be worth something.”

Bucky bristled at that. “You are worth something. Don’t talk like you’re not.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up at him, startled by the intensity in Bucky’s voice. Bucky could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers still clenched around the edges of that damn rejection letter in his pocket. He wanted to snatch it out, tear it up, throw it off the roof. But he knew that wouldn’t fix anything. Wouldn’t fix the way Steve always felt too small, too breakable, too left behind.

There was a distant crack of a firecracker, and someone down the block whooped with laughter. The sound brought a glow to the street below, brief and flickering like a memory. Steve finally looked him in the eye. For once, neither of them looked away. Bucky’s hand itched to reach for him, to clasp his shoulder, brush his knuckles, something but the words that rose in his chest stuck there, unspoken. Instead, he forced a grin.

“You hungry?” He asked seemingly all of a sudden.

Steve blinked, surprised. “You wanna spend one of your last nights home buying me dinner?”

No, I wanna spend them memorizing your laugh and the way you wrinkle your nose when you smile. I wanna feel like I had a chance, even if it’s only for an hour.

“I owe you a meal,” Bucky said instead. In a rare moment of fear, he added on, “Least I can do now that you won’t have my table scraps every day. It’ll be like old times.”

Steve hesitated, then smiled slowly. “Sure, Buck. Dinner sounds nice.”

They climbed down from the roof just before midnight, the faint boom of homemade fireworks echoing off the brick and brownstone. The city felt smaller than usual, quieter, even in its chaos. Or maybe that was just the feeling in Bucky’s chest, that strange ache he couldn’t name.

The diner on the corner was still open. The same one they’d haunted since they were kids, the one with the chipped linoleum counters and a waitress who called them both “Sweetheart” and never charged for coffee refills. Bucky pushed the door open and gestured for Steve to go first, ignoring the way his hand nearly hovered at the small of his back before he dropped it.

They slid into their usual booth. Steve ordered soup. Bucky got a burger he wouldn’t finish. Neither of them mentioned the war. Neither of them mentioned the draft. Neither of them said what they really meant.

Steve looked exhausted. Not in the physical way, though there was always that, but in the way someone looks when they’ve been holding the weight of something too long. Bucky wanted to take it off his shoulders, carry it himself. He didn’t know how.

“Remember when we used to split one milkshake between the two of us?” Steve asked, voice light but distant.

Bucky smirked. “Only because you couldn’t finish a whole one yourself.”

“Still can’t,” Steve muttered, smiling down at his spoon. Then, softer, “Some things don’t change.”

Bucky looked at him for a long moment. “Yeah,” he said. “Some things don’t.”

Outside, a string of firecrackers popped like machine gun fire, too close, too loud. Both of them flinched, though neither said why.

It was almost midnight when they stepped back out into the street. Steve shivered in the winter air, and Bucky tugged off his gloves, pressing them into Steve’s hand without a word. Steve looked down at it, then up at him.

“You’re gonna freeze,” he protested.

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky replied. “Besides. Someone’s gotta keep your fingers warm, Rogers.”

The words came out casual, a tease, but Steve held his gaze again. This time, something in Bucky’s throat seized up. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Steve was still looking at him. Waiting. And for the third time in his life, Bucky almost asked Steve Rogers on a date.

Instead, the church bells started to chime midnight.

“Happy New Year, Punk,” Bucky said, swallowing everything else.

Steve’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Happy New Year, Jerk.” And Bucky told himself the timing wasn’t right.

The fourth time, Bucky couldn’t stop shaking.

Not from the cold. Not even from the pain, though there was plenty of that—buried in his bones, curled in the curve of his spine where the restraints had bitten in. No, this was something else. Something deeper. Like his body didn’t recognize freedom anymore. Like it had forgotten how to be unchained.

He’d been underground so long days, maybe weeks. He wasn’t sure. Time bent when you were a number, not a name. When the cold of the metal table became your only constant. When you forgot how your voice sounded because screaming didn’t do anything except waste the little air you had.

He remembered pain. The kind that settled in your bones and rewrote who you were. And then he remembered light. Blinding. Explosive. Followed by a voice that broke through the fog.

“Bucky! It’s me. I’ve got you.” Then arms, stronger than they ever should have been, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. He didn’t remember the escape. Didn’t remember the gunfire or the way the mountain base crumbled behind them. Just flashes. fire. Cold. Steve.

Always Steve.

Buck sat on the edge of his cot. He had a blanket wrapped around him, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good. Nothing was going to ease his nerves for the time being. It felt selfish to be resting when there was still so much work to be done. The war wasn’t over, even if time seemed to be standing still in the med tent.

Bucky looked to his side, where Steve had propped himself against a stack of supply crates. While Bucky had been in and out of consciousness, Steve had apparently managed to fall asleep. He deserved to sleep though, having not left Bucky’s side since the rescue. 

Somehow Steve sleeping didn’t feel selfish. Maybe it was because the newly minted Captain America had the hope of a nation weighing on his shoulders. Or maybe it was because to Bucky, he was still that skinny kid from Brooklyn who only managed to catch a decent night’s sleep when he was really going through hell. 

But he’s not that skinny kid anymore. Bucky had to remind himself. They’d both not been kids for some time, but Rogers? Rogers was a Greek work of art. Ignoring the fact that Steve’s star-spangled suit was tailor made for his new body, his muscles made it look like the wrong movement would tear the whole outfit to shreds. He allowed his eyes to trace the curve of Steve’s shoulder where the fabric stretched tight. The firelight from a nearby lantern flickered across his friend’s face, casting soft shadows over the sharp lines of his jaw.

A tremor went through Bucky again, this one not entirely from nerves. It was the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on his chest like an invisible hand. He curled the blanket tighter, knuckles whitening. Steve was alive. He was whole. He’d come for Bucky. That should’ve been enough to silence the voice whispering in the back of his mind. The one that sounded too much like guilt. 

Steve stirred with a quiet grunt, his head lolling slightly before his eyes blinked open, groggy, unfocused at first. Then they landed on Bucky, and something in his expression changed. Softened.

“You, okay?” Steve asked, barely conscious and already focused solely on Buck. He almost laughed. Was he okay? What a question.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Steve pushed himself upright slowly, groaning as stiff muscles protested. He rubbed a hand over his face before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to be. Not right now.”

Steve’s words hung in the air, soft and certain, like a blanket that might have actually kept the cold out if Bucky let it.

You don’t have to be. Not right now.

Bucky wanted to believe him. He wanted to let the words settle somewhere deep and broken inside him. But before he could reply, a burst of noise outside the tent drew both their attention. Raised voices. Nothing urgent, just familiar. Laughter. Footsteps. Then Peggy Carter stepped through the canvas flap. She was in uniform, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair pinned neatly beneath her cap. She took one look at Steve and smiled. Radiant, sharp, confident. 

“There you are, Captain.” Peggy said with her perfect red lips. It was a silly thing to notice, but Bucky marveled at out even in the middle of a warzone a gal wasn’t too resourceful to source red lipstick. “Howard’s looking for you.” She went on. “He says if you don’t come test his flying death trap, he’ll find another national treasure to risk.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in ten.” Steve chuckled, a sound that Bucky hadn’t in so long he’d almost forgotten it. Warm and effortless, perfectly Rogers.

“Make it five. He’s getting twitchy.” Peggy insisted with a raised brow. She turned, but not before her hand brushed Steve’s arm. Light. Casual. But familiar. And Steve didn’t flinch. He smiled. Not the polite one he gave officers or the forced one he gave the press, but something softer. Something real.

Bucky watched it all from his cot, stomach coiling tighter with every second. Peggy gave him a nod as she left, nothing but polite, and then she was gone, the tent flap falling shut behind her. But the cold she left behind was worse than the mountain air.

“You need anything? Water? Blankets?” Steve asked, getting up from his position on the ground.

“I’m good.” Bucky answered, not even giving himself a second to consider any other alternatives. 

“You sure?” Steve knew him better than to trust a response that quick. No. He wasn’t, but he could lie to keep Steve happy.

“Yeah, gonna get some shut eye on this luxury sleeper I’ve got.”  He gestured to the standard issue, very still military triage cot he was sitting on.

“I won’t be long.” Steve assured with obvious hesitation. “Try not to do anything stupid until I get back?” He harkened back to the old joke between them, but this time it felt real, pleading. 

Bucky nodded, and Steve followed out after Peggy. The silence rushed back in. Bucky lay down slowly, curling on his side. The cot creaked beneath him. The blanket itched at his skin. For a moment, before Peggy had walked in, he’d almost said something. Something stupid. Something honest. Something like stay. Something like it’s always been you.

But Steve had smiled at Peggy like she was the sun. Like he’d found something warm after years in the cold. And Bucky? Bucky was frostbite. A ghost dragged back from the dark. He didn’t belong in the light anymore. So he bit down the words. Pressed them deep into the hollow place where hope used to live. And tried to sleep.

The fifth time was in Wakanda. The nightmares had finally started to quiet. Not go away, that would be asking too much, but they didn’t come every night anymore. Some mornings Bucky could even wake up without the taste of iron in his mouth and phantom blood on his hands. He could breathe again. Really breathe. The kind that didn’t feel like the air was borrowed or laced with gunpowder.

He was getting better.

Despite the tragic circumstances that had brought them together, Bucky had even managed to forge a quiet friendship with the king of Wakanda. T’Challa seemed to understand the weight of other people’s expectations and desire to take control of what little choices in life destiny granted you.  He graciously allowed Bucky to stay and insisted there were no strings attached and no eviction deadline. For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky felt like he could try again.

The sun in Wakanda didn’t hit like Brooklyn or Austria or Siberia. It felt like it saw straight through you and chose to be gentle anyway. Sometimes, when the wind shifted just right, he could hear the chatter of children in the fields and remember that there was still joy in the world. He’d even started smiling again. Not out of obligation. Not to reassure Steve. Just…because.

Steve would visit of course. But the visits always had this hidden layer of shame that Bucky couldn’t admit. He felt like he wasn’t progressing, wasn’t getting better fast enough. Still, he kept those feelings to himself. If the options were a visit with an upset stomach, Bucky would take that every time over not seeing his friend. And eventually, Bucky started to actually feel better.

He found a rhythm in the days. Rising with the sun, helping in the gardens, walking the perimeter trails Shuri had mapped out for him, sometimes even assisting with basic hand-to-hand drills for Dora recruits willing to humor a broken soldier trying to stay useful. Nights were harder. Still were. But the screaming had turned into restless tossing. The sweat wasn’t quite so cold. He could live with that.

When Steve visited again, this time with Sam in tow, Bucky didn’t flinch at the surprise. Sam was good people. He teased Steve like it was a competitive sport and didn’t look at Bucky like he was a ticking time bomb. That helped.

They arrived just before sunset. The sky was painted in burnt gold and soft violet, and Bucky was sitting on a carved bench, hands dusty from pulling weeds in the king’s gardens. Shuri called it “dirt therapy.” He didn’t argue. Not when it worked.

“Looks like you’ve gone domestic on us,” Sam teased, nudging Steve as they approached.

“Don’t be jealous of my turnip empire,” Bucky replied dryly, standing to greet them.

Steve smiled, wide and bright, and Bucky felt that familiar tremor in his chest. Not fear. Not anymore. Just that same unnamable feeling Steve had always stirred in him. Like a knot pulled taut and warm all at once.

“You look good,” Steve said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Been sleeping,” Bucky admitted. “Sometimes.”

Steve’s smile softened. “That’s good.”

They spent the evening on the balcony of the guest quarters, drinking something sweet that Shuri swore would “balance their chakras.” Bucky didn’t believe in chakras. But he believed in Shuri. And in the look on Steve’s face when he tasted the drink and tried not to grimace.

The conversation wandered, as it always did. Steve and Sam argued about sports Bucky had never heard of. Bucky let himself laugh. Not a small, tight smile, but a real, whole laugh. Steve glanced at him then, like he hadn’t heard it in a long time.

Later, when the sky had gone dark and Sam was inside talking Wakandan flight tech with Shuri, it was just the two of them again. Like it always ended up being. Steve leaned on the balcony railing beside him. Below, the fields glowed faintly under the stars. Bucky held a glass in both hands, letting the coolness settle his nerves.

“I think I might stay,” Bucky said softly.

 “Here?” Steve turned to him.

 “Not forever.” Bucky decided. “But… for a while. Long enough to learn how to live like this is mine. Like I belong to myself again.” Steve didn’t answer right away. The night air settled between them like something sacred.

“I’m glad,” he finally said. “You deserve that.”

“You think that now?” Bucky glanced at him. He’d meant to say ‘even now’ but didn’t correct himself. 

“I’ve always thought that.” Steve reminded him. “You just didn’t believe me.” They fell into silence again, comfortable this time.

“You ever think about what you want?” Bucky asked after a while. “After all this?”

 “After what?” Steve didn’t follow.

“The fighting. The running. The saving the world.” Bucky turned toward him, braver in the dark. “What does peace look like to you?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it in a long time. Maybe since Peggy. Maybe since Brooklyn.” Steve let out a quiet breath. 

“Maybe you should,” Bucky said, voice gentle.

Steve looked over. The kind of look that pinned Bucky in place. Like Steve was trying to read the spaces between his words. “And what if peace looks like being with someone who gets it? Someone who’s been through the same kind of hell?”

Bucky’s heart thudded. Loud. Too loud. He didn’t move.

He almost said it

You mean me?

But the door slid open behind them with a soft hiss, and Sam poked his head out.

“Hey sorry to interrupt your emotional staring contest.” He said, and despite the jab it looked like he meant it. “But Shuri’s threatening to make us do karaoke if we don’t come in.”

“Duty calls.” Steve chuckled and stepped away from the railing. Bucky followed after him, but not before stealing one last glance at the stars, the fields, the place that had started to feel like a second chance. The fifth time, he almost asked Steve on a date. Instead, he walked into the room with him, quietly hoping the future might still have time for one more try.

Over the years there seemed to be a lot of near misses. Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. The soda shop and Steve’s “modern’ neighbors. New Years Eve. The med tent. Wakanda. The timing just never seemed right. Bucky had healed from his trauma, at least the best and hundred or so year old man could be expected to. He’d managed to put a lot of darkness and regret behind him.

The one constant in his life had always been Steve Rogers. Sure there was skinny sickly Steve, and will lose a fight to a wet bag but get back up Steve, and jacked up Captain Steve, but on the inside, he was always quintessentially Steve Rogers. A real pain in the ass who managed to stay cemented at the core of Bucky’s heart even nearly a dozen decades later. 

Maybe that’s why all he could manage when Steve loaded up with a brief case full of Pym particles, Infinity Stones and his “I-can-do-this-all-day” smile, was a firm hand on his best friend’s shoulder. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Buck.” Seemed to be all the Star-Spangled Man could manage himself before climbing onto the time travel dock. They both knew he wasn’t just talking about Rogers’ reverse time heist. Sam asked how long it would take, and Bucky didn’t need to hear the answer. The solen nod between he and Steve had said all it needed to about the mission’s length. 

“There was a blue flash. Not any more grandiose than what you might see on a cell phone camera. It wasn’t even a blinding light. Just a quick flicker and Steve was gone. 

Bucky stood there longer than he meant to, staring at the space where his best friend, his constant, had vanished. He hadn’t said goodbye. Not really. That firm hand on Steve’s shoulder had been meant to say everything he didn’t trust himself to say out loud. Things like Don’t go and I’ll miss you and, if he were braver, I love you.

But Steve had gone.

And the moment passed. Bucky’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. He turned slowly and made his way back toward the others. Banner was fidgeting with the time GPS, eyes flicking back and forth between readouts that didn’t make sense and Sam who was starting to look uneasy.

“He should be back by now,” Sam said.

“It’s only been five seconds,” Bruce replied, not sounding as calm as his words implied he should. “Time is weird. It could feel like five hours to him.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He kept walking past them and down toward the edge of the lake. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere Steve might’ve liked to sit and watch the sunrise if he hadn’t just disappeared into the timestream. Bucky sat heavily on a rock and stared at the water. His heart felt too tight in his chest. This ache didn’t feel like the hundred-year-old ghost kind. This was sharp and alive.

He should’ve said something. One damn thing.

Timing. It was always timing. He chastised himself.

Bucky didn’t know how long he sat there, watching the still surface of the lake, letting the ache in his chest bloom unchecked. He was tired of pretending it didn’t hurt. Tired of swallowing things down. Steve was gone. Again. And this time, Bucky wasn’t sure there would be a war, or a miracle, or some cosmic twist to bring him back. He was so caught in the weight of it that he didn’t notice Sam approaching until the other man crouched down beside him, silent for a moment.

“You okay?” Sam asked finally, voice soft.

“Do I look okay?” Bucky let out a dry breath that might’ve been a laugh if it had any warmth in it.

“No. You look like someone just lost the best thing that ever happened to them.” Bucky didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Sam stood again, glancing back toward the others. “Banner’s recalibrating the GPS. Says it’ll take a few more minutes. He still thinks Steve’s coming back.”

Bucky nodded once, eyes fixed on the horizon. “I don’t think he is.”

Sam studied him. “But you’re still out here. Waiting.”

“Doesn’t feel right not to,” Bucky said. “Feels like… if I leave, I’m giving up.”

Sam was quiet again. “I’ll let you be, man. But if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

He walked away, boots crunching lightly in the grass.

Bucky didn’t move. The wind picked up slightly, tugging at the hem of his coat. Clouds were starting to gather in the east, their edges-tinged pink by the rising sun. He’d never known pink could be a sad color. It sent him yearning for the sunsets of Wakanda more than he’d care to admit.

He let the silence hold him. Let himself remember a thousand little moments: Steve grinning over a stolen fry. Steve reading his discharge papers with shaking hands. Steve on the roof that New Year’s, eyes glassy with hope and fear. Steve, always, standing just a little closer than he needed to.

A sound. Soft. Subtle.

A shift of air behind him.

Bucky turned slowly.

And there he was

Steve Rogers. Standing a few feet away, older, yes, but unmistakably him. Not in the suit. Not with the shield. Just jeans, a button-down shirt, and a look on his face that made Bucky’s breath catch.

“Hi, Buck,” Steve said, voice warm and worn. For a second, Bucky didn’t believe it. He just stared. Then he stood, slowly, cautiously, like any sudden movement might break the illusion.

“You’re late,” Bucky managed, his throat tight.

Steve gave a soft, sheepish smile. “Missed my train.” They looked at each other for a long moment.

“Why?” Bucky asked, and it wasn’t about the delay.

Steve stepped forward, eyes never leaving Bucky’s. “Because I had to see it through. I had to know what it felt like. A life. Peace. Loving someone and waking up beside them, knowing the fight wasn’t waiting the second I opened my eyes.” He paused, voice cracking slightly. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Took you long enough.” Bucky swallowed hard. Surprised he managed the words.

“I know.” Steve took another step forward, close enough to touch now. “And maybe I don’t have as much time as I used to. But what I’ve got, I want to spend it with you.”

Bucky stared at him, heart pounding. For the first time in over a century, he let the words rise without stopping them.

“Steve,” he said, stepping in, voice trembling but clear, “I know it’s not cool to ask this anymore. Peter and Shuri wouldn’t say it’s cringe. But, do you wanna get dinner sometime? I mean, Like a date.”

Steve’s smile turned bright and unguarded. “Buck, I’ve been waiting a hundred years for you to ask me that.”

This time, Bucky didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them and kissed him. Slow. Careful. Full of all the almosts that had finally, finally turned into a yes. The sun crested over the lake behind them, warm and golden. A new beginning.

“Yes.” You answered. “He found out some upsetting news and he’s going to need some time to process it. We’re going to give him space so that he can do that, alright?”

You found a tool kit. It was missing a spanner or two but looked to be otherwise complete. You assessed your patient. You’d have to partially disassemble LOLA and see just how extensive the damage was before you could even begin to put her back together. Working with your hands after being and educator for so long felt awkward. Your fingers kept tripping over each other. Like they were attempting a dance they’d long forgotten the steps to.  

Your mind wandered right where you didn’t want it to. Anakin was alive. You stole a glance over at Leia, whose eyes continued to drift with concern to Obi-Wan whenever she thought you weren’t looking. Did Anakin know about the twins? Was he looking for them now? Had he gone first to his family on Tatooine? His family who remained unprotected because Obi-Wan was there with you. Had he gone to Alderaan? Should you contact Bail with a warning?

“Ouch!” You jump back. Somehow your fumbling fingers had managed to cross to wires that ought to be kept apart. A slight burn had formed on one of your thumbs.

“You never were much for mechanics.” Obi-Wan commented, walking towards you. You hadn’t noticed him end his meditation. “Perhaps I should take over the mending from here?” He suggested.

“All yours.” You agreed.

“What does it feel like,” Leia asked, staring at the meditation spot Obi-Wan had just vacated. “The Force?”

You opened your mouth not sure how to answer. You’d long assumed that when the time came, you’d have some prepared speech. Maybe archived reading materials. You’d be prepared. But here? On a droid-piloted cargo junker zooming through space? You were not prepared at all.

“Have you ever been afraid of the dark?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up from his project. Leia looked back at him and nodded. “How does it feel when you turn on the light?”

“I feel safe.” Leia answered quietly.

“It feels like that.” Obi-Wan told her.

Not long after that Obi-Wan had managed to finish fixing LOLA. The young princess, all too eager to see her friend alive and well, took the small disk droid off to a private corner still within your sight but out of earshot. Obi-Wan stood next to you. The two of you were as alone as you were ever going to be.

“I love you.” You whispered, unable to look at him. “I know I shouldn’t say it and maybe it’s the shock talking but I always have. I’ve loved you since the first time we met when you let me borrow your cloak in the rain. Anakin wasn’t much older that Leia then. You’d only been his Master for two or so years. I told myself it would go away eventually. But there were always small things. You’d accidentally brush your hand against mine during dinner. You and Anakin would happen to be training in the same part of the temple as me. I began to wonder, foolishly maybe, if you felt the same way.”

“[Y/N], I…” He started to say but you interrupted him.

“It’s alright. I’m not looking for an answer from you. I just…” You sigh. “I have to have something to hope for.”

“I always wondered why I never got my cloak back from you.” He smirked, giving nothing away.

The three of you rode the rest of the way in an unsettle quiet. Neither you nor Obi-Wan spoke with each other. Only commented occasionally on this or that to Leia. The princess was mostly occupied by chatting with LOLA. Telling the droid about all the exploits she’d missed out on thus far. Soon enough the novelty of the droid began to wear off and like any youngling far from home on a long journey, Leia grew impatient. She began asking how much longer and if you’d arrived yet.

“You’ll know when we’ve arrived because we’ll be getting off.” Obi-Wan told her at last in a huffy tone. Leia sulked for the next hour or so, until Obi-Wan got to his feet. “We better get ready. He announced. “We’re on approach.”

You watched through one of the viewports as the rocky landscape of Mapuzo became larger. Still technically a dessert planet like Tatooine with sandy terrain, at least Mapuzo could boast a sparse vegetation of small dry trees and tufts of even dryer grass. Your ship docked at an outpost already being patrolled by Stormtroopers. You could only hope the news of Daiyu hadn’t yet traveled here.

Heavy droids entered and began offloading cargo. The operation was mostly overseen by a large yellow Loader Droid. The only two visible Stormtroopers were more like anti-theft deterrents than a functional security. Following Obi-Wan’s lead you were able to easily sneak around the back of the transport. The three of you disappeared off into the horizon.

“Coordinates say our meeting point is further North.” Obi-Wan declared when there was enough distance between you and the troopers to speak in normal tones. “That is if our new friend was telling the truth.”

“Why would he lie?” Leia asked.

“Because,” Obi-Wan sighed. “People are not all good Leia.”

“How far out are we from civilization?” You asked, looking around. “I remember the holos at the temple showed green fields for miles. Surely if we’re out past all of that we’re well out into the wilderness.”

“There are no fields anymore.” Obi-Wan replied, a slight edge to his tone. “No more fields. No more families. Mapuzo is nothing more than mining colony now. Thanks to the Empire.”

“I thought the Empire was supposed to be helping us.” Leia looked to you. Then so did Obi-Wan.

“I can only teach her what the Galactic Empire curriculum allows.” You reminded him. “At least for now. Bail is in a precarious enough position with the senate. Radicalizing his daughter would only make things harder for him.”

“Well… what does Roy think?” You asked. “I mean he’s been a footballer most of his life. He has to know the other guys outperform him.”

“O’ course he knows! But I still don’t think it’s right to force him into something he ain’t ready to do.” Ted huffed. “Taking Roy off the starting line up? That could be the end of his career. Of his livelihood.”

“I understand that but Ted…” You comprehended Ted’s point about forcing Roy’s hand, but he had to remember that he wasn’t just the coach for one player. He had to decide what was right for the whole team.

“I’m done talkin’ about it. I made up my mind and that’s that!” Ted exclaimed. You looked over at Beard, who simply shook his head. Clearly, he’d already exhausted his own energy trying to persuade Ted the day before.

When the three of you arrived at Nelson Road you went your separate ways. Ted climbed the stairs towards Rebecca’s office while Beard went right into the locker room and presumably the manager’s office. You headed to Keeley’s office and sat cross-legged in one of her cushy chairs.

“I talked to Rebecca this morning.” She announced as you let yourself in. “She said Ted forgave her for everything and Higgins is coming back.”

“I was there when she talked to Ted. Her apology seemed genuine. It was weird seeing her so vulnerable.” You told Keeley.

“Right?!” Keeley gasped. “First time I saw her cry it was almost scarier than the first time I saw her make someone else cry.” You both laughed, but then Keeley frowned. “I’m not sure how I can be friends with someone who did such horrible things. I mean she claimed she was my friend but…I mean the photo alone…”

“She wasn’t really your friend when she did a lot of the sabotaging Kee. Especially the photo. She grew to love you and I think if she wasn’t your friend, she wouldn’t have been able to tell Ted the truth at all.” You guessed. “She was hurting, and she couldn’t see past that pain. I don’t think what she did was right, but I feel for her.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Keeley huffed. “You know she told me that girl Bex, yeah? She’s pregnant with Rupert’s baby!”

“What?” You leaned forward in your seat, scandalized. “Isn’t he like sixty something?”

“Seventy!” She clarified. “It’s fucking mental! I can’t even imagine! Well Rupert makes my skin crawl but…”

“Yeah, what is it about him?” You agreed. “I just want to rage whenever I’m in the same room as him! It’s a miracle no one tried to burn down the club before this! Wait, I hate to back track, but did you say Higgins is coming back too?”

“Yes. I guess he really did quit because he didn’t want to be involved in the sabotage anymore.” Keeley nodded. “So after Rebecca confessed to Ted she paid a visit to Higgins. She told him about coming clean and promised everything was on the up from here on out.”

“That’s good, I think Higgins is a good influence on her.” You smiled. “Uh, listen Kee, there’s one other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Did you and Roy talk last night after the game?”

“You mean about him playing like shit?” She asked. “He didn’t so much talk as grunt and mumble about it.” She laughed. “Why do you ask? Shit Ted’s not thinking about benching him, is he?”

“No. He’s adamant that he’s not going to, but Beard and Nate think he should.” You explained.

“And what do you think?” She questioned cautiously.

“I think no one is going to make that decision for Roy. I want to talk to him, but I was hoping the two of you may have already had a conversation I could piggyback off of.” You crossed your fingers on both of your hands and showed them to Keeley.

“Aww sorry, Babes. I wish I could be more help.” She pouted with sympathy. “But if you can get him to talk to you, yeah? Let me know. I’d love to…how did you just say it? Piggyback off that conversation.”

“I’d better get going.” You decided, getting to your feet. “Beard and Nate aren’t talking to Ted apparently so someone’s going to have to make sure training actually happens today. I’ll catch you later.”

Out on the pitch, Ted was standing about a yard away from Beard and Nate. You strode up and stood between them. You weren’t sure who’d been trying to prove their point Ted or Beard, but most of the drills seemed to be focused on speed.  Someone was trying to prove that Roy could or couldn’t keep up with everyone else. Despite the other guys on the team trying to push their Captain with words of encouragement he just couldn’t keep up.

“FUCK!” The entire field could hear him swear every time he fell further behind.  

The team broke for lunch. While most of the exhausted players lumbered into the locker room, Roy took to the stands. He jogged up and up before collapsing into a seat in the middle section. Even from where you stood on the grass you could tell he was glaring out into the middle distance.

“I’m starting to think y’all might have a point.” Ted sighed. “I’m gonna try and talk to ‘im.”

“I’ll go with you.” You offered. “He likes me better.”

“No arguments there, Darlin.” You and Ted walked up the stands and sat on opposite sides of Roy.

“All these seats, you two have to sit here?” Roy asked raising his eyebrows.

“You know, during breakfast [Y/N] showed me a video from Tik Tac…wait those are mints. It was the other one with the short videos. Ya know?” Ted began.

“You two Muppets followed me up here to show me a TikTok?” Roy asked in disbelief.

“We’ll, not exactly…” Ted leaned back in his seat and looked down at the pitch. “I was just trying something I learned from my mom. See whenever she has something tough to talk about with me she’ll start off talking about, I don’t know, something weird. Something overtly nice. And I just thought you might like to see this TikTok we was watching of a cow and a lil goat becoming friends.”

Roy looked to you, as he always did, to translate Ted’s ramblings into something resembling the Queen’s English. You heaved a quiet sigh.

“The coaches have been talking about the Man City game.” You decided it was best not to best around the bush. Roy liked handling matters directly so you were going to. “Most of the discussion has been centered around the starting line up…”

“No! Don’t you dare!” Roy looked away from you to snarl at Ted. “You’re not fucking benching me!” Ted had been expecting this reaction of course. He didn’t think Roy Kent would go quietly to the second string.

“Now hang on, we’re just talking…” Ted tried to pacify him. All this did was fire Roy up more.

“Yeah, talking. That’s all you do is talk.” Roy shot to his feet. “Talking all that bullshit about how you’ve got my back.”

“Hey, I do have you’re back.” Ted also rose to his feet, but his tone was calm.

“Bullshit!” Roy snapped. “You pretended to be a man of your word. You’re fucking full of shit. You can go fuck yourself. Fuck you!” Roy turned to march away, seemingly forgetting that you were still seated behind him. He glared down a “fuck you” for you burning in his eyes. He looked back at Ted over his shoulder before finally stalking off.

“Roy!” You called after him. He ignored you. You got up from your seat.

“I’m not too sure…” Ted tried to stop you but you followed after Roy.

“Roy! Roy! KENT!” You shouted at him. Roy stopped walking. He looked at you with an animalistic expression. He was hungry for a fight.

“Not now!” He snapped.

“Yes now.” You disagreed, marching over to him. “He didn’t deserve that back there.”

“Yeah, he did. I don’t deserve getting shoved to the side by some Yankee twat who wouldn’t know a good player if they caved in his skull with a header!” Roy snarled.

“You want to keep shouting and having a meltdown like a toddler or do you want to hear what I have to say?” You asked. There was no bite in your voice, you were attempting to sooth him. Play the peacekeeper.

“Kinda want to keep shoutin’, yeah.” He answered honestly but his tone matched yours. He’s stopped yelling.

“He was telling the truth. He doesn’t want to bench you. Least of all not without your consent. He cares about you Roy. He cares about you as a player on this team and as a person.” You insisted. “I know you’re gonna say I don’t know anything about football, but think about it, what’s better for your career; starting the last game of the season on the bench or playing too slow in front of a live televised audience?”

“It’s not right.” Roy shook his head. “And I’m not doing it.”

“If you won’t listen to me and you won’t talk to Ted, promising me you’ll at least talk to Keeley? Get an opinion from someone who’s in your corner. And for the record, Ted and I are both still very much in your corner.” You promised.

“Maybe I will.” He mumbled so quietly you barely heard him. “I’m taking the rest of the day to clear my fucking head. Will you tell ‘im?”

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed. He simply nodded. Roy didn’t even bother changing out of his uniform. He strode right out of the club house, got in his car, and drove off.

“You okay?” Ted questioned, approaching you from behind.

“Me? He was practically civil with me. Are you okay?” You leaned against Ted, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Oh yeah, I was expectin’ he’d rip one of them chairs up out of the concrete or turn green like Incredible Hulk. Ya know ‘Roy Smash’! That sort of thing.” Ted sighed. “I’m sure we haven’t heard the last of this. Let’s get some lunch before this whole thing goes sideways again.”  

“I can try.” Ted shrugged. “But Roy’s never been much of fan o’ my way of coachin’.”

“It’s better than nothin’ at this point.” Keeley insisted.

“Alright.” Ted agreed. “Unlike our cold-blooded friend in there, I know better than to argue when the two of you are in agreement on something.”  

“Now that that’s taken care of, we have to talk about the other thing.” Keeley whispered to you.

“I’m not sure there’s much to talk about.” You wandered over to the empty bench in the middle of the locker room and sat down. Keeley sat across from you in front on Sam’s locker. “I don’t see what we can do if she doesn’t confess herself. Ted already knows, and he wants to just sweep the whole thing under the rug. He brings up a good point that exposing her publicly puts all of our jobs at risk and potentially gives Bex and the other shareholders means to have Rebecca removed. With Rebecca gone that opens the door for Rupert to step right in and no one wants that.”

“I hate that you’re right.” Keeley pouted. “Still it’s not fair what she did to Ted, or you or Higgins or Jamie. Now I hate that she’s got me feeling bad for Jamie!” She laughed. Beard and Nate stepped into the locker room. The pair of them sharing an uncomfortable expression. Ted stepped out of the training room and locked eyes with his fellow coaches.

“We need to talk to you.” Beard announced firmly.

“Of course, let me just let my date know I’m running a little late.” He glanced over at you. “[Y/N], can you text my girlfriend and let her know that I’m gonna be a little late for dinner? Me and the fellas gotta have a meeting.”

“She says take all the time you need, but you’re going to owe her one, Coach Lasso.” You answered back.

“Heard and acknowledged, Darlin’. Gosh it’s so convenient having my girlfriend and my assistant being the same person.” He remarked. “Wait is that misogynistic? Because I wasn’t trying to imply that I feel any sort of ownership over you just because…”

“Ted?” You interrupted him.

“Yes, Dear?” He replied.

“Beard and Nate are waiting to talk to you before they can both go home.” You pointed out.

“Right of course.” You watched the three men walk into the manager’s office. Beard closed the door behind them.

“I’m gonna see if I can get any work done in my office.” Keeley told you. “Will you let Roy know where I am if he ever decides to thaw himself out?”

“Of course.” You nodded. “But I think he might be planning on living in their until the next game.”

Whatever Beard and Nate had wanted to discuss with Ted was brief. No sooner had Keeley left the locker room for her office than the two coaches disembarked from the manager’s office. They wished you a good night and headed out with backpacks slung over their shoulders. You approached the office and dropped into your usual chair. Whatever Ted had been about to say was interrupted by Rebecca appearing in the doorway. Your eyes flashed to Ted wondering if this was finally the moment you’d been anticipating all week. You started to rise from your seat, but the club owner stopped you.

“[Y/N] please stay. I think you should hear what I have to say too. I’m a fucking bitch.” That sure got your attention. You dropped back into your seat. “Ted, I lied to you. I hired you because I wanted this team to lose. I wanted you to fail. And I sabotaged you every chance I’ve had. I made sure [Y/N] didn’t have a place to stay when you arrived. It was me who hired that photographer to that the photo of you and Keeley. I set up the interview with Trent Crimm, hoping that he would humiliate you. And I instigated the transfer of Jamie Tartt, even though you’d asked me not to. This club is all that Rupert has ever cared about and I wanted to destroy it. To cause him as much pain and suffering as he has caused me. And I didn’t care who I used or who I hurt. All you good people just trying to make a difference. Ted, I’m so sorry.”

Rebecca’s eyes began to well up. You could both see that she felt genuine remorse for her actions. To Ted’s credit, he did a good job pretending this was news to him. Maybe it was the break in Rebecca’s voice or that he hadn’t expected her to truly mean the apology Keeley had ordered her to make. He got up from his desk.

“If you want to quit or call the press, I’ll completely understand.” She told him, lifting her chin high.

“I forgive you.” Ted replied. He’d already made up his mind to do as much the night you’d told him the truth. He’d told you then that if Rebecca come and confessed that would be the end of it and he was a man of his word.

“You what? Why?” Rebecca was truly taken back by his response. She’d expected him to be angry or hurt. She’d hadn’t expected him to be forgiving.

“Divorce is hard.” Ted sighed. “It doesn’t matter if you’re the one leaving or if you’re the one who got left. It makes folks do crazy things.” Ted placed a hand on your shoulder, and you knew his mind had gone to the fights that the two of you had had. The out of character outburst you’d seen from him. “Hell, I’m coaching soccer for Heaven’s sake.” He laughed. “In London. That’s nuts. But this job you gave me has changed my life. It gave me the distance I needed to see what was really going on. You and me? We’re okay.”

He held out his hand as an olive branch. Rebecca pulled him into a tight hug instead. When they separated, the club owner looked to you. You got your feet at last, wondering how much of Ted’s speech had been improvised and how much of it had been practiced in front of his bathroom mirror.

“I think at this point, he and I are a package deal.” You smiled. “If he’s a bird, I’m a bird.”

“I’m going to assume that colorful analogy is a reference to a song or film.” Rebecca smirked.

“C’mon now, you expect us to believe you’ve never seen The Notebook?” Ted asked. “Know what? Doesn’t matter, let’s bring it in for a group hug.”

“You never got your dinner, did you?” Ted asked, the two of you left the Crown and Anchor and headed towards your building. “You and Beard were about to order when Rebecca and I came in.”

“Oh yeah. I didn’t even realize.” You acknowledged. “Honestly, I forgot I was hungry. I nearly forgot how to think when you challenged Rupert to that darts game. It was…Ted it was fucking hot.”

“Really?” Ted tilted his head to the side. “I mean we never talked about it but who would have thought darts could be a turn on. You know I could get a board for my place. You reached your apartment building and Ted gestured towards his front door. An invitation.

“It wasn’t just the darts.” You laughed following him into his apartment. “What you did was badass.”

“Badass, huh?” He repeated to himself. “You know my plan was to cook you some dinner and maybe we could hang and watch a movie, but it sounds like you want to skip right to dessert…and by dessert I do not mean biscuits.”

At the mention of biscuits your earlier concerns about Rebecca came to the front of your mind. You had to tell Ted what you knew. He deserved to know. Even if you wanted to see Rupert Manion suffer half as much as you thought you did, it wouldn’t be fair to drag the entirety of A.F.C. Richmond down in the process.

“Dinner first.” You told him. “I’m starved.”

Dinner would give the two of you a chance to talk. You could try to circle the conversation back to Rebecca or work organically. Once the right path was laid you could start with Higgins pulling you aside the morning of the Everton game. It was going to be a hard conversation and you’d wished Beard were there. Not only had he also heard information firsthand from Higgins, he was better at remaining levelheaded than you or Ted. While you were focusing on how exactly to broach the sabotage subject, your phone began to ring.  

“Hey, Kee everything alright?” You asked, answering her call on the second ring. You stepped out of the kitchen into the living room.

“Well, that depends on your definition of alright.” Keeley answered back. “You’re on speaker by the way, Roy’s here too. Say hello, Roy.”

“Hello.” A gruff growl came through your receiver.

“Listen there’s something we want to talk to you about.” Keeley explained. “We’re on our way over to your flat is that okay?”

“Yeah of course. I’m not at home at the moment though, I’m at Ted’s. You can just meet us here.” You told them.

“Oh,” Keeley paused. “Actually [Y/N] we were sort of hoping we could just talk to you. If that’s alright.”

“I mean I don’t mind, but he’s just started cooking us dinner. I’ll have to give him a reason why I have to leave.” You said.

“Tell him we’ve coupled up and we want romantic advice from you. Say that I don’t want him there because I’m embarrassed. He’ll believe you.” Roy interjected.

“Okay but have the two of you coupled up?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“That’s not the bloody point, is it?” Roy hissed into Keeley’s phone.  “We’ll be at your place in ten.” He ended the call. You walked back into the kitchen.

“Everythin’ alright?” Ted asked. He’d noticed you leaving the room on a phone call and took in the concerned expression you now wore.

“I think so.” You nodded. “That was Keeley. She’s on her way over with Roy. Apparently, they’re having some sort of a romantic crisis.” You tried to present the subject casually. As if your friends’ problems were as tedious as washing the dishes.

“Oh we know a thing or two about that.” Ted chuckled. “Well, I hope you invited them to dinner. The more the merrier.”

“Actually, they asked to speak with me alone.” You informed him apologetically. “Roy said he’s not comfortable talking about his feelings with another man. I think he’s just afraid you’d conference in the Diamond Dogs again.”

“Okay. You let them know I’m right here ‘cross the hall if they changed their minds.” He offered “And don’t worry about dinner. I’ll finish cookin’ and I’ll keep everything warm for whenever you’re ready to eat.”

You told Ted that you’d return as soon as possible and a let him know he should eat without you. When Roy and Keeley arrived, you escorted them into your apartment. You put a kettle on and sat them at your small kitchen table.

“Okay, so what’s this about?” You asked, placing a mug in front of each of them. Keeley and Roy looked to each other. You felt like you were watching them argue with their eyes. Each trying to force the other into speaking first.

“Don’t look at me, she’s your friend.” Roy commented at last.

“Ugh fine!” Keeley rolled her eyes giving in. “He’s not talking about you, by the way. Roy still adores you, that’s why we’re here. So, Roy and me we were having our first date tonight.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You smiled. “You two will be fantastic together! But I’m guessing that’s not the reason you came all the way here.”

“No, it’s not.” Roy agreed. “While we were on our date some fucking photographer was taking pictures of us. I took this from ‘im so he couldn’t make money from our pictures.” Roy slapped an SD card onto the table.

“We were just going to delete the photos, you know, make sure they were gone and then we were gonna mail it back to the photographer, but then we found out,” Keeley paused stealing a glance at Roy. “Well, the same card had the pictures of me and Ted on it.”

“That’s a hell of a coincidence.” You remarked.

“That’s what I thought.” Keeley agreed. “So Roy called The Sun. We wanted to see who hired the photographer. It turned out he just happened to run into us on the street but someone did hire him to take the photos of me and Ted. You’ll never guess who it was! I mean I was shocked! It was…”

“Just get to it.” Roy grumbled.

“Alright, there’s nothing stopping you from saying it.” She smirked at him. Roy grunted in response. “It was…”

“Rebecca.” He interrupted unable to bare Keeley’s dramatics any longer.

“Are the photos of you and Ted still on that card?” You asked.

“You don’t seem surprised.” Roy observed.

“Maybe she’s in shock. I was.” Keeley said.

“I’ve known about this for a few days, I only didn’t say anything because I didn’t have any proof.” You shared with Roy and Keeley what you already knew. You told them that Higgins had confessed to helping Rebecca acquire the compromising photos of Keeley and Ted. You let them know that Beard had also been looped in on the subject. Lastly you recounted your evening at the Crown and Anchor. “I’m not saying that what she did is right, but damn if Rupert was my ex-husband, I’d probably want to destroy everything he loved too.”

“What did Lasso say when you told him?” Roy wondered. “Must have shattered his rose-tinted glasses.”

“I haven’t told him yet.” You confessed. “Beard and I decided we should wait for proof.”

“Well, I’m gonna talk to Rebecca.” Keeley announced. “She might be my friend but I’m gonna tell her that she has to stop. I’m gonna tell her that she needs confess to Ted. I think she should apologize to him too.”

“This should be interesting.” Roy remarked. “We should get going.” He suggested to Keeley. “We’ll see you and Lasso first thing in the morning.”

You escorted Roy and Keeley out of the building and asked bid them safe travels. You returned to Ted’s apartment where the Head Coach was doing his best to look as if he hadn’t been eagerly awaiting your return. He was seated in the living room, absently cycling through channels on the television.

“I know I shouldn’t ask.” Ted said when you moved to stand in front of him. “But you know it just seems like kismet them two getting together.”

“I won’t even make you ask; I can tell you what Keeley and Roy wanted to talk about but tomorrow when the subject comes up again you have to pretend like you don’t know anything.” You said.

“You may have noticed this evenin’ that I’m mighty good at pretending not to know things when I need to.” He reminded you of his darts game with Rupert which had only concluded a few hours ago.

Ted patted the open spot next to him on the couch, inviting you to have a seat. You sat on the couch with one leg tucked under you the other hanging off the edge. While your conversation with Keeley and Roy had been mostly a highlight reel of your suspicions, you tried to provide Ted with as much detail as possible.

“So now Keeley’s going to confront Rebecca tomorrow about it all.” You concluded.

“I see.” Ted tried to digest the information that you’d laid out for him. His smile had disappeared and in its place was a downturned mustache and furrowed brows. “So, you ending up living with me, that was ‘cause Rebecca told Higgins specifically not to find you a place to live. And-and Jamie getting sent back to Man City?”

“Wasn’t your fault at all Ted. For all we know, Jamie might not have wanted to go at all.” You confirmed.

“Huh.” He mumbled. “And you and Beard, the two of you sat on this information for how long?”

“Just weekend.” You told him. “I know we said we’d be honestly with each other, but you have to understand that I didn’t have any proof until tonight. If my suspicions had been wrong or Higgins had been lying, I didn’t want to change the way you saw Rebecca if I didn’t have to.”

“I ‘preciate that [Y/N], I do. I know my face doesn’t convey that right now,” He commented. “but I know that you and Beard, you’re always going to be in my corner, my two aces. An’ you said Keeley is going to confront Rebecca tomorrow? Wants Rebecca to confess to me herself?”

“That’s what she told Roy and I.” You nodded.

“Well, alright then. I think Keeley’s right. Rebecca should get the chance to come clean and tell someone what she’s done. Not because I need to hear any sort of apology, but because I think confessing one’s mistakes is really freeing. And this stays between the seven of us. No reason anyone outside of Rebecca, me, you, Beard, Roy, Keeley and Higgins need to know about this. If Rebecca comes to me and tells me the truth about what she’s done to sabotage Richmond, as far as I know the whole mess ends right then.”

“I think that’s more than fair.” You agreed.

“Alright, well then, if I’m supposed to not know anything, then for now, let’s pretend I don’t. I think that’s enough shop talk for the night anyhow. Let’s change the subject.”

“Well, I believe we last left off on the subject of dessert.” You smirked.

“And I believe you are correct.” He agreed. “Should we move this to the bedroom?” He suggested.

“It’s like you read my mind.” You allowed Ted to escort you out of the living room.

“Good.” Obi-Wan nodded. His natural aversion to droids and his current fear of being discovered were satisfied. You made eyes at your friend over Leia’s head. He gathered from your expression that his response been inappropriate. He sighed quietly and tried again. “What happened to her, anyway?”

“She was ripped to pieces by the kidnappers.” Leia told him. “She’ll be alright though. She’s strong. [Y/N] and I have fixed her before.”

“I’ll let your parents know that you’re safe, Princess. You and [Y/N] will be back to normal by nightfall.” He assured her.

“Great.” Leia huffed. “Normal.”

“Leia much prefers adventure and playing with her droid over diplomacy and negotiations.” You told Obi-Wan.

“That reminds me of someone else I knew.” He nodded. “We should continue moving. The spaceport is not far.”

The back of the alley opened to a larger labyrinth of connecting side streets. Obi Wan seemed to know his way around so you and Leia did your best to keep up with his stealthy but quickened pace. After a dizzying number of twists and turns, you stopped short, nearly colliding with Obi-Wan’s outstretched arm. You’d reached your destination. The entrance of the spaceport was just ahead.

From where you stood a street’s width away, you could seat about a dozen stormtroopers mustered outside of the spaceport. It was your first time really seeing them up close. Living on a planet like Alderaan meant that troopers didn’t come around often. When they did it was because they were off duty or deserters seeking refuge. They were a far cry from the clones you’d fought alongside over a decade ago.

“What are they?” Leia pointed at two beings dressed in all black. They were standing just off from the storm troopers. They had fighter’s stances, waiting at the ready. You didn’t have an answer for Leia, so you looked to Obi-Wan.

“Inquisitors.” He explained. “Many were Jedi who turned to the dark side. Now they hunt their own kind.”

“All of this is for you?” Leia asked. You bit your lip and looked away to stop yourself from laughing. She really was your favorite youngling of all time. “Who are you?”

There was a commotion behind you. The three of you turned back to see a new Bounty Hunter fresh on your trail. You and Obi-Wan both stepped in front of Leia only to watch a blaster bolt erupt from the center of the hunter’s head. A new face stood just behind the Bounty Hunter. Obi-Wan seemed to know him. He stepped further forward, pushing you and Leia back.

“The bounty is for me.” He told the man. “Please let them go.”

“Listen carefully,” The man said, not coming any closer. “The entire city’s locked down. It’s done. You need another exit.”

He pointed behind you. Obi-Wan looked up and back as the man described a fully automated cargo port located not too far from where you already were. He stepped closer, better lit by the city lights now. His clothes were simple and could almost pass for those of a Jedi if one wasn’t looking close enough. But a tan tunic and a brown cloak did not make a Jedi. You wondered how and When Obi-Wan had met this man.

“They won’t be looking for you there.” He continued telling Obi-Wan. “Go to transport eight. They will be waiting.”

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan asked. “Who will be waiting?”

“There are people out there who can help you.” The strange man replied.

“You expect me to trust you? You’re a criminal!” Obi-Wan balked.

“And our best option of getting out of here with all three of us alive.” You commented, stepping forward. “Ben, if this is our way out of here, I think we should at least try. It must be safer than walking in there.” You looked back at the spaceport.

“Look,” The man gulped. “Have I made a few bad decisions? Sure. Do I feel bad about it? Sometimes. Do I like credits? Yeah. There’s so much stuff you can buy with credits.”

“Haja…” Obi-Wan sighed.

“You…remembered my name.” The man blinked. This seemed to surprise him. “I’m trying to make amends.” He assured Obi-Wan. “I got that other family safe and I’m gonna do the same for you. If I’d known what you were…”

“It doesn’t matter what I am.” Obi-Wan interrupted. “I just need to get them home safe.” He gestured behind himself to you and Leia. The man called Haja nodded.

“Go to these coordinates.” He handed Obi-Wan an information chip. “They’ll help you from there.”

“And how do I know this isn’t just a trap?” Obi-Wan wanted to know.

“What choice do you have?” Haja question back. “You’re not alone. Obi-Wan. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.” Haja drew up the hood of his brown cloak and sprinted off, blaster drawn.

“Look at you making, friends.” You teased. At least Leia giggled.

“Must you make light of every situation?” Obi-Wan demanded with exasperation.

“Only when the situation calls for it.” You promised. “Seriously, though, who was that?”

“No one.” Obi-Wan grumbled. “Certainly not a friend.”

He would say nothing more on the matter but continued to guide your group toward the coordinates. He reminded both you and Leia to be careful as you loaded onto the cargo port’s hydro-lift.  His lecture about how dangerous it was for people to be at a fully automated cargo port lasted nearly the entire lift ride.

“If it’s so dangerous they won’t look for us here.” Leia announced. She’s never been one to simply listen to a lecture.

“Unless it’s a set up.” Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Did he always have these trust issues?” Leia looked to you.

“Yes, but this seems this seems extreme even for him.” You whispered back.

“You know I can hear both of you.” Obi-Wan smirked. He might not have the best relationship with Luke, and if it were up to Owen Lars he may never. At least he knew that Leia was in good hands with you. Just ten years old but she was already very much the Skywalker she was meant to be. There was just enough of Bail, Breha and you in her to take the edge off.

You heard a second hydro-lift reach the top of the cargo port. You immediately pulled Leia with you behind a large stock of crates. You knew you’d pulled a little too hard but to her credit she didn’t so much as yelp. Obi-Wan rolled behind a second stack of cargo just as a set of footprints entered the port.

You heard the unmistakable sound of a saber igniting. You fiddled for your own saber, making sure you still had it. Obi-Wan skid an access key soundlessly over to you. You handed it off to Leia with instructions on how to manually activate the transport ship. Only after promising that you and Obi-Wan would be right behind her did she take off. A small game of cat and mouse began after that. You and Obi moved around the cargo bay. Listening with the force as well as the very audible hum of the inquisitor’s blade.

“You cannot hide Obi-Wan.” The inquisitor called out. “I can feel you. Your fear betrays you.”

You nearly tripped on Obi-Wan’s cloak when he moved to the right, while you’d meant to go left. You bobbed out of each other’s way, just narrowly missing the inquisitor as she force pushed a barrel you’d been crouched behind.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re not going to die.” The inquisitor continued. “Today.”

You and Obi-Wan had managed to overtake a fair amount of ground. You’d gotten a little turned around, but he’d know exactly where he was going. He nodded to an opening not too far away. You could see the transport ship through the opening. Just a little farther. You breathed.

“I’m just going to take you to him. I know that you’re with him, [Y/N].” You looked to Obi-Wan trying not to emit the absolute panic you were feeling through The Force. Why did this person know your name? “Lord Vader will be pleased.” She added. “Oh.” She sensed something through the force. “You didn’t know. He’s alive. Anakin Skywalker is alive. And he’s been looking for Obi-Wan for a long time. I am going to be the one to deliver you both to him!”

“Third Sister!” The first inquisitor’s taunts were interrupted by another arriving on the scene. “I can stand the reek of your ambition no longer.”

“Grand Inquisitor.” Obi-Wan whispered in your ear. You didn’t need to ask further follow up questions to understand that meant this Grand Inquisitor was in charge. Rather than stand aside and allow the Grand Inquisitor to lead the search, Third Sister ran her saber right through the middle of him.

“He sent me to see what’s keeping you from mess.” She explained. “You know, in some systems, giving someone your jacket is a sign of romantic interest.”

“I-Wha..” Finn sputtered unable to formulate a response.

“Relax.” Rose laughed. “I was just teasing you. Are you ready to go or do you need to preen for a few minutes?”

“I’m not! Let’s go.” Finn sighed before rushing out the door.

Poe had saved them both seats at the mess hall because of course he did. He smiled when he saw Rose, but his entire face lit up the second he laid eyes on Finn. Being around Finn gave him the same feeling as zero gravity on the cockpit of his X-Wing; weightless, free. Finn never told Poe that he was talking too fast. The former Stormtrooper never chastised him for acting rashly. Instead, he’d nod along and simply ask, “How can I help?”

“Sorry.” Finn apologized, even though they weren’t even technically late yet. “I got caught up in something. Lsot track of time.” He lied.

“Yeah, looking at himself in the mirror.” Rose mumbled. Poe hadn’t heard what she said and was about to ask her to repeat herself when Captain Elav, a Twi’lek Security Officer approached their table.

“Commander Dameron, I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but The General said you’re scheduled for overnight watch on the eastern gate this evening.” Elav asked.

“I believe I am. Did something happen for The General to reassign me?” Poe asked. Typically, his assignments came directly from Leia herself.

“No, Sir.” The Captain replied. “Luroon was meant to join you, but they were injured during weapons training this afternoon. I’m afraid we’re having trouble finding a replacement for them.”

“Weapons training? Are they alright?” Poe wanted to know.

“Nothing a day or so in the bacta won’t fix.” Elav promised.

“Well thanks for letting me know. I’ll be sure to check in on Luroon tomorrow and I’ll find someone for watch tonight.” Poe said. Captain Elav nodded before leaving the trio to their meal.

“I’ll do it.” Finn volunteered before the Twi’lek was hardly a footstep away.

“Didn’t you just come back from that weeklong mission with Rey? You couldn’t have gotten much sleep on the Falcon’s hard bunks.” Poe asked.

“I’ve slept in worse places.” Finn shrugged. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.”

Poe wanted to say no.  Despite what Finn said, he had a hard time sleeping on ships. He’s told Poe before it was a problem he’d had since childhood. There was nothing compared to a soft cozy bed. Poe had been inclined to agree with him at the time. He knew his friend likely needed rest, but truth be told watch duty sucked. It sucked even more when you were stuck for eight to twelve hours with someone you didn’t know well or like.

“Okay.” Poe agreed with no further push from Finn. “Meet you at the east gate at moons up?”

“I’ll be there.” Finn agreed.

After mid-day mess Finn, Poe and Rose returned to their posts. Poe anxiously kept an eye on the time stamp near the bottom of his monitor in the command room. He’d never been excited for watch before in his entire life. Finn tried to keep himself busy helping Rey and Chewbacca with the Millennium Falcon. It seemed the ancient ship was never short on repairs that needed to be done. The Wookie and the Jedi were happy for the help, there was a very short list of beings they trusted with their ship. Finn just barely managed to make the cut.

At long last the planet’s three moons were just barely visible in the sky. Finn nearly tossed down his spanner in excitement. He did his best to maintain his composure as he informed Rey that he’d have to leave for his watch shift. She thanked him for his help and waved him off, turning her attention to the perpetually on the fritz hyperdrive.

Poe was nearly late for his shift. He’d been with Leia and some of the other high-ranking officers. They’d been in a debrief so long that the words of the presenting Mon Calamari had stopped making sense to him. He’d been just about to nod off when the alarm he’d set at his workstation sounded off. The Commander apologized to everyone and excused himself to night watch, promising to read the complimenting documents before returning to the war room the following day.

“I thought I might have to actually send a search party out for you for once.” Finn joked as Poe finally arrived, out of breath.

“I might ask Leia to knock me back down to Captain if it means I don’t have to sit through any more of those debriefs.” Poe huffed.

“I don’t know,” Finn shrugged. “Commander Dameron kind of flows better than Captain Dameron.”

“You think so?” Poe asked, leaning against the base’s exterior wall. “Alright I’ll keep it then.”

Finn studied his friend’s features. The planet’s three moons lit the sky so brightly it could compare to another planet’s daylight. Poe’s bronzed skin was practically glowing in the moonlight. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his collar buttons open. Coolant in the command room must have been broken again.

“You’re from Yavin, right?” Finn asked suddenly.

“Fourth Moon of Yavin, born and raised.” Poe nodded. “You ever been?”

“Have I…no.” Finn shook his head. “I’ve heard it’s got massive jungles.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Poe agreed. “It’s muggy, large trees, but not as big as the ones on Keshyyyk. Why, you planning a trip?”

“No, I was just thinking about something someone said earlier.” Finn replied.

“Something someone said about home planets?” Poe pushed off the wall he’d leaning on. His lighthearted smirk changed to serious quickly. He tried to voice his concern in a delicate way. He didn’t want to offend Finn. “Is someone harassing you about not knowing your home planet? Because If they are…”

“No! No!” Finn interrupted him. “Nothing like that.” He was embarrassed to admit that he was still thinking about what Rose said earlier about gifting jackets. Finn took in a gulp of air before recounting to Poe that on some planets giving your jacket to someone is seen as a romantic advance. “So you know, I was just wondering if that was true on Yavin.”

“Oh.” Poe digested what Finn had said. He then remembered that the jacket that fit so perfectly on his best friend had once belonged to him. “Ohhhh.” Poe chose his next words carefully. “We didn’t have anything specific that I remember on Yavin 4, but you know if you’re trying to ask me out, Buddy, you could just do that. Jacket or not.”

Poe bit his lip. He’d hoped the suggestion came off as playful. If Finn wasn’t interested in him, he could easily flip it as a joke. But, well, if Finn was even remotely interested maybe that sort of line would be just the thing to tip the scales.

Finn was speechless. He’d waited so long for Poe to make the first move. Poe always made the first move. Poe made all the plans and did a lot of the talking. Maybe just this once he could be the one to act without thinking.

Finn stepped forward so suddenly, that Poe stepped back. Finn used this to his advantage. He moved even closer pinning Poe against the wall. Their hips crashed together. He thought he may have heard a moan escape Poe’s lips.

“I’m sorry, should I…” Finn pulled away, but a pair of hands were gripping his waist, pulling him close again.

“When we’re married what’s hers will be mine and what’s mine…well, that will still be mine ‘cause I learned from you.” Rupert told Rebecca.

“Damn.” You whispered to Beard. “If it wasn’t going to displace workers and ruin the careers of two dozen men, I’d almost help her tank the franchise myself.”

Rupert then announced to the room that he and Bex were engaged, and drinks were on him. This earned a celebration from the locals all of whom seemed to share a great deal of loyalty more to Rupert than they did Rebecca or Ted. You got up from the table and approached your two bosses pretending to just notice them.

“Rebecca? Ted! What a surprise! Beard and I were just having dinner,” You nodded your head to your table in the corner. “Ted, you mentioned having a meeting with Rebecca, I didn’t realize it was here. What a small world!” The expression on Ted’s face made it clear that your ruse wasn’t fooling him. He’d told you exactly where his meeting would be. You’d come up with a good explanation for him later.

“Ah, what a surprise.” Rebecca greeted you and Beard who had followed you over to the bar.

“You know now that we’re all here, why don’t we go grab a bite to eat together. Roy took me to this great place down the street.” You tried to give Rebecca and excuse to leave the pub without giving Rupert the satisfaction of being the reason for her departure.

“That sounds great [Y/N] but ah, before we do that, I’d like to challenge our friend Rupert here to a game of darts.” Ted drew the attention of the former Richmond owner.

“Do you like darts, Ted?” Rupert asked him.

“They’re okay.” Ted shrugged. He loosed a dart casually at the closest dart board. You didn’t know much about the game but based on the reactions of the patrols around you Ted had made an unimpressive hit on the board. “I’m more of a cornhole fella myself.”

“How about a wager?” Rupert offered. “Say, ten thousand pounds?” This certainly got the attention of the entire room.

“Well, that’s a little rich for my blood.” Ted informed him regrettably. “How about this, if you win, I’ll let you pick the starting lineup of the last two games of the season? But if I win, you can’t go anywhere near the owner’s box, at least not while Rebecca’s still in charge. What do you think?”

“You’re on.” Rupert agreed. “Double in, double out.”

“Okay.” Ted nodded. “Whatever you say Rupe-a-dupes. Just let me know if I’m winning or losing.”

“Oh, I forgot I had these on me.” Rupert produced an expensive looking case from his pocket. He opened the case to reveal a set of professional grade darts.

“That’s okay.” Ted smiled. “I forgot, I’m left-handed.” He tossed another dart and it landed in the dead center of the board.

“Shouldn’t we stop him?” Rebecca looked to you and Beard, realizing neither one of you appeared all that worried.

“He knows what he’s doing.” Beard told her confidently. It was the confidence of a man who’d accompanied his friend on many drunken nights out. Someone who’d seen this hustle firsthand and watched it pay off almost every time. You’d seen Ted hustle someone at darts only once before, it was at a late-night budget meeting with the Dean. He’d managed to secure a ten percent budget increase for the athletics and art departments rather than the fifty percent cut to both that had been proposed.

“Shall I be giving you the lineup card now, Ted?” Rupert asked when the game came down to Ted’s final turn.

It has been a nail biter of a game with most of the room hoping for a Rupert Manion designated roster. What had started off as a nearly tit-for-tat game had soon turned to Rupert’s favor.  You’d managed to work out that darts scoring was similar to golf. The player with the least points at the end was the winner. Rupert and Ted had started the game with five hundred and one points each and while the former had managed to end his final turn with just ten points, the later was still holding one hundred and seventy points.

“I shall be putting Obisanya back on defense where he belongs.” Rupert continued to taunt Ted.

“That’s exactly what I said!” One of the patrons agreed.

“Now! It’s not all Ted’s fault.” Rupert told the crowd. “My ex-wife’s the one who brought the hillbilly to our shores. I know she’s always been a bit randy, but I never thought she would fuck over an entire team.”

“Hey!” Ted said loudly, calling the attention back to himself.  “Better manners when I’m holding a dart.” He ordered. “You know Rupert guys have underestimated me my entire life. And for years I never really understood why. It used to really bother me. But then one day, I was driving my little boy to school, and I saw this quote by Walt Whitman and it was painted on the wall there. It said ‘Be curious, not judgmental.’ I liked that.” Ted fired a dart and it landed in a skinny red strip on the dart board. Those amongst the crowd in support of Ted cheered.

“So I get back in my car,” Ted continued his story paying everyone else no mind. “and I’m driving to work and all of a sudden it hits me. All them fellas that used to belittle me, not a single one of them were curious. They thought they had everything all figured out. So they judged everything and they judged everyone. And I realized that their underestimating me? Who I was had nothing to do with it. ‘Cause if they were curious, they would’ve asked questions. You know? Questions like ‘Have you played a lot of darts, Ted’?”

Ted loosed the second dart of his turn. It landed in the exact same red square as his previous shot.  This stirred loud “ooooohs” from even his non-supporters in the pub.

“To which,” Ted said as he plucked up his final dart. “I would’ve answered, ‘Yes, sir. Every Sunday afternoon at a sports bar with my father, from age ten till I was sixteen when he passed away’.”

Ted’s final dart landed in the dead center of the board. A shot even you knew was a bullseye. The room was loud and rowdy as if Richmond had won a championship game. Even Rebecca was cheering. Bex whispered something to Rupert and the two made a quiet exit.

“Holy shit that felt good!” Rebecca shouted.

“That was fun.” Ted agreed. “Only one thing left to do now.” He leaned over and whispered something to Rebecca.

“Do I have to?” She sighed before rolling her eyes. “All right then. DRINKS ARE ON ME!”

The cheers and chanting continued as Mae and her staff kept the beers and drinks flowing. You and Beard approached Ted who was collecting the darts and wiping away the chalk scoreboard.

“You two were checking up on me, weren’t you?” He asked you. “You don’t have to worry about me having a mental breakdown at the pub. Mostly ‘cause I don’t think Mae would allow it.” He joked. “I’m glad you’re here though. Saves me the trouble of having to tell the story later.”