Chapter Text
You had expected to, eventually, at some point, meet the team. It made sense, really. Though you weren't working with them with them, you were still, well, working with them. You just hadn't expected to meet the team as quickly as you were. It'd be easy to blame the unsteadiness in your hands on your lack of sleep, but you knew, deep down, it was nerves. Rebecca had all but waved the two of you out of her office, nearly bumping into a tired-looking man who introduced himself as Higgins as you left, before the door was all but slammed in your faces. Ted, however, seemed entirely unperturbed, a smile still on his face.
"You much into sports?" He had been talking about his time in England so far, his jet lag, his apartment, the food, the drinks. You had begun to wonder if this man had a filter between his brain and his mouth. The question being directed at you was mildly startling.
You licked your lips, "Uh, sort of? I never played past gym in school, but I used to watch Sunday night football with my dad. I didn't get it, but he enjoyed the company."
"Used to?" His pace seemed to slow, and you saw a twitch in his eyebrows as he turned his head to face you, "Oh, I'm sorry."
His tone had softened, and it took you a moment to realize why. "Oh, no, I just moved out!" You didn't mean to seem as if you were creating a sob story on day one, "And with school and then work, I was too busy to continue the tradition."
"Oh," He seemed almost relieved as you spoke, nodding slowly, "Makes sense. Man, life sure has a fun way of making us busier than we ever thought we could be, huh?" You chuckled softly, and he continued, "So what got you into this type of work? Management or communications or whatnot?"
You shrugged at his question, "I jumped around a bit when it came to school, couldn't figure out what I wanted to do. Ended up with a bachelor's in communications, 'cause my dad said it would open a lot of work options for me. I focused a lot on public relations."
He was nodding, but as you turned to look at him, you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes seemed almost far off. You doubted he quite understood the nuances of your schooling, let alone your job. He was listening to you speak intensely, though, so you'd have to give him credit for that. You were the first to break eye contact, feeling almost too vulnerable under his stare.
"I saw the position open here, thought it was a long shot when it came to applying." You motioned around you absentmindedly, "Now here I am."
"Now here you are," He echoed, the slightly puzzled look melting into a smile, "Isn't that so cool? I mean, we're across the world! In a different country! Have you ever traveled to a different country before? Before here, I mean."
You had a sinking feeling he was about to launch into more stories, or God forbid, more questions. However, a call directed his way snagged both his and your attention, and your slow-paced walk— was he not in a hurry?— came to a stop. There was a man standing at the end of the hall, baseball cap on and arms crossed as he stared down at Ted.
"You're late." He sounded a bit like a jealous housewife. You gave Ted a curious side-glance, surprised to see he was still grinning.
"Beard! Good morning," He put an arm around you, the warmth and weight causing you to jump slightly, letting yourself be pulled forward as he brought you closer to the other man, introducing you, "Our new communications manager, not to be confused with a PR manager." There was a lull, and he swiveled his head to look down at you, "Say— what is the difference?"
"Uh," You glanced from him to Beard, then back towards Ted, "PR focuses on public perception, whereas I'm mostly in charge of what's said and how it's said. PR takes care of the public opinion; I do my best to make sure you and your team don't do or say something to screw that up."
"So you write our speeches and such?" You hesitated but nodded at his question, still very aware— and slightly distracted— with the fact that his arm was still slung over your shoulders, "Well, I might have to put a pin in that one! I admire your work; I haven't seen it yet, but if Rebecca hired you, I imagine you're mighty talented. But I like putting my own personal spin on those interviews. Charm them, you know?"
Beard huffed, and you weren't sure if it was a laugh or a sound of annoyance. "So long as you don't say anything damaging, I think it's fine to let you put your charm into your speeches," You placated, unsure where to carry this conversation on to, turning your attention to Beard, "It's good to meet you, Coach Beard."
Said man's gaze was fixed on the arm on your shoulder, though at your voice he glanced your way, offering you a quick smile, and a nod of his head. "Likewise." He turned his gaze back to Ted, "You're late."
"Oh," He jumped, as if the reminder had startled him, and his arm slid off your shoulder, "Right! Lemme go make sure the boys are decent before I introduce you. Wouldn't wanna scare you away on day one, am I right?"
He pushed through a door, allowing the loud conversations and sound to spill out, leaving you and Beard alone in the hallway. He seemed like a rather silent man, and while you could respect that, it didn't do much to alleviate the nerves building in your stomach. You did your best not to fidget where you stood, trying to maintain a professional persona. Beard didn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable, glancing over at you.
"Where in America are you from?"
"Oh, uh, Richmond. Virginia." You did your best to smile as you responded, though it likely came across like a grimace.
"Funny," Was it? His voice was still rather monotone as he responded, turning away from you as the door opened, and Ted stepped out slightly, still smiling.
"Come on in! All the boys are decent," He turned, raising his voice and putting on a rather faux-serious tone, "And on their best behavior!"
There were a few muttered responses, too quiet for you to make out, as you stepped in, following Ted with Beard behind you. The locker room smell hit you almost immediately; the scent of sweat and deodorant was never a pleasant combination. It was one you thought you had left behind in the high school gym. The team was around the room, some standing and some seated in front of their lockers, watching you walk in behind Ted with curious looks on their faces.
"Alrighty, AFC Richmond, meet our new communications manager! She just flew in yesterday, and we're some of the first people she's coming across, so make sure to give her a friendly hello," Ted announced to the team, his voice practically echoing in the room, and as he finished, he began clapping.
You felt the familiar pit of embarrassment sink in your stomach, the heat on your cheeks burning as you tried to figure out the best way to stop Ted— do you tackle him or grab his hands to still them? Either one would likely cause the team to look at you oddly. However, with Ted's cheerful clapping and excited face, the team began to join in, slowly and unsure. The sound became deafening quite quickly, and you wanted nothing more than to run back out of the locker room.
"Alrighty, why don't you go on and introduce yourself?" Ted's voice cut through the clapping, and you turned to look at him, unable to hide the way your eyes widened.
"Me?" He nodded, stepping aside and motioning for you to step further into the center of the locker room, "Oh, uh, alright."
"Are you American too?" One of them called out, and you turned, trying to find the questioner.
"Oh, yes. I am."
"She's from Richmond!" Ted piped up.
"Richmond, Virginia," You clarified, hearing a few confused murmurs begin to spread, "From America. On the East Coast, actually. Um, yes, I'm the new communications manager. I will be in charge of how Richmond handles their communication, namely press releases and interviews. If anything happens and the team needs to talk about it, it goes through me, and I help figure out what you—uh, we are going to say."
"So you're like our PR person?" Someone else asked, and you realized that, while their last names were labeled behind them, you had no idea who they were. This one's last name read Obisanya.
"In a way? PR is mostly about public perception; I'm focusing on the team's overall communication. What you say, where you say it, how you say it." You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your heart rate down, ignoring the sweat on your palms, "I work to make sure no one says anything that we'll regret later."
That seemed to get a few laughs out of them, and the tightness in your chest eased up ever so slightly. Someone else called out, Hughes, "So you tell us what to say and what not to say?"
"Not- not exactly. I'm not here to police you, I mostly just work to make sure the team as a whole doesn't say what they shouldn't."
"So you can't get us any PR promotional stuff?" He asked again, and he seemed rather serious as he did so.
"Like- like sponsorships or promotional items?" He nodded, and you shook your head, "No, that's more the marketing team. I can help with the communication side of that, but," You shrugged helplessly, watching the way his expression seemed to dim as he nodded at your answer. "Right, well, if that's all—"
"Why don't we take our new communications manager outside and show her what we're capable of, yeah?" Ted cut you off, a hand clapping down on your shoulder as he addressed the team, "Boots up, let's get on the field."
You had wanted to make your escape, tuck tail and hide until Rebecca called for you, but one Ted Lasso appeared to have other plans. You didn't have much room to speak as you watched the team file out, chatting amongst themselves as they made their way to the field, Coach Beard and another person following after, not before casting two curious looks your way. You turned towards Ted.
"Why did you make me introduce myself like that?" The question escaped you before you could stop it, and Ted, though startled by the outburst, couldn't help but laugh quietly.
"If you're gonna be working with us, you gotta get to know the team. Which is also why you're coming out to the field with us; you can't get to know us from behind a desk." He responded, the grin still fixed on his face, "And lemme tell you— those boys are gonna make you work for your paychecks."
"Great," You responded, turning slightly to look out the door, focused on the field.
"Nah, it will be great. Don't feel too down about it," He nudged your arm with his elbow lightly, "They're boneheads, but they're good men." He finished his sentence with a wink, walking out to the field, you trailing behind slightly.