Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The New Year’s party the Habs organization throws is always a good time, though now that Bob is scouting instead of playing, Alicia finds that every year she knows fewer and fewer of the people who come. Even the players… it’s less like she knows them and more like she knows of them.

At one point, Angela catches her eye and waves her over, so Alicia goes to meet the younger ladies she’s chatting with. Team functions like this can be overwhelming when you’re new in town, Alicia remembers. She and Angela do a practiced job keeping the girls talking about themselves and their jobs, not letting hockey dominate the whole evening, and before long they’re all swapping stories like old friends.

After a while, Angela makes noises about finding the bathroom, and taking her cue, their little group disbands and starts looking for refills and new conversation partners. Finally, Alicia notices Jack standing near the pitchers of water, staring at his phone.

He’s either talking to Shitty or Bitty. I have never seen him pay that much attention to his phone in public.

Well, that’s not entirely fair. Jack really has been quite social most of the evening. Alicia smiles to herself thinking of the piggyback rides she saw him giving to the kids and the conversation she overheard between him and the goalie coach’s twelve-year-old about agility skating. Something pretty genuine about power play opportunities and trusting your coaches. Sometimes Alicia wonders if Jack would have been a teacher if he couldn’t play hockey. He does always seem happiest with the little ones.

She waves him over when she’s caught his eye. He looks relieved to be heading out, but possibly a little anxious, too.

“You ready to go?” she asks, pulling him in for a one-armed hug.

Jack leans into the hug and lays his head against hers. “Yeah.”

Alicia smiles at him and takes him by the arm, as if he were her date. She casts about for Bob, intending to grab him on their way out so he can’t waste too much time.

“Christophe,” she mutters, more to herself than Jack, but he makes an inquisitive noise at her just the same. She sighs and jerks her head toward the far corner of the room. “We have to go extract your father from his conversation with Carey. How they can possibly have anything more to say about ice fishing this year than they did last year…”

At last they’re all in the car, headed to Guy’s party. Alicia is looking forward to seeing more of the old guard who she knows a bit better and will be more casual with. Jack isn’t saying much, which isn’t unusual, but Alicia isn’t sure how he’s feeling.

As soon as she thinks the question, Jack speaks up. “Actually, would you mind dropping me at home? I’m getting tired and I still need to pack.”

Alicia trades a glance with her husband and nods minutely.

“Ouais,” says Bob, unconcerned.

Twisting around to see her son in the back seat, Alicia grins wickedly and raises her eyebrows. “Packing, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack says, neither face nor voice giving anything away.

Alicia takes a dramatic breath and rolls her eyes before she straightens out and pretends not to watch him in the rearview mirror. It’s hard when he’s sitting directly behind her, but she’s got some years of practice.

“D’accord, mon cher,” she says innocently. “I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with you being glued to your phone like I’ve never seen you for the last half-hour.”

Because he had played nicely with the children and chatted with the older ones at length, not to mention the adults. It wasn’t like he was completely absorbed in his phone and ignoring everyone.

“My flight leaves early,” Jack replies. Bob chuckles, and Alicia flicks her eyes over to him again, trying not to laugh as well. It’s good to see Jack like this, happy and with his own life going on. He’s not just Bob-and-Alicia’s son, anymore, he’s his own person. His own person she will mercilessly mock for as long as he’ll let her.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t actually ask a question.”

Now she does laugh. “Touché,” she says, then turns to be sure he can see her and does the whole zip my lip thing. Jack rolls his eyes, smiling, and pulls out his phone. Well, two can play at that game.

[10:17 PM]
Today 10:17

I'm glad you have
someone more important
to be talking to tonight :)
Read 10:17 PM

[iMessage]

Jack doesn’t respond, but she knows he’s seen it. He’ll talk to her at some point, probably.

Guy’s party is nice. Alicia drinks more champagne than she maybe should have, but she has a good time, and it’s lovely to relax with friends and give her husband a good smooch as the year turns over.

They linger for a little while after midnight, but she’s come to terms with the fact that they are officially old at this point, and she does want to sleep at least a little bit before they have to take Jack to the airport tomorrow, so they say their good-byes and wish everyone a last “Bonne Année!” before they leave.

She must doze off in the car, but she wakes up around 1:30 to the pleasant rumble of Bob singing “Auld Lang Syne” somewhat under his breath and with only about every third word. She smiles.

“A cup of kindness, mon nounours.” She sits up and rolls her neck.

“Ah, ouais,” Bob says. “You’re awake! We’ll take a cup of kindness yes, for days of auld lang syne.”

Alicia yawns. “Kindness yet, I think.”

“Ouais,” Bob says again, and reaches over to rub her knee. “T’vas ben?”

“Ouais,” Alicia echoes. “I’m ready for bed, that’s all.”

The house looks dark from the road, but as they pull around back, they can see Jack’s window illuminated. Bob puts the car in park and cuts the engine.

“So is he still packing, not yet packing, or asleep with the light on?” he asks, as if it’s a puzzle for them to solve before going inside.

Alicia laughs tiredly. “It could be any of them, honestly. I hope he’s at least started packing, though. We have to be back in this car in…”—she glances at her phone—“not enough hours, Christ.”

Bob pats her knee again and takes the keys out of the ignition. “Come along, mon ange. If we don’t go in now, we will regret sleeping in the driveway.”

Slowly and stiffly, they both extract themselves from the car and shuffle into the house. Alicia feels tipsy, but not so much from alcohol anymore as sheer exhaustion. Maybe Jack had the right idea about coming home early…

They put their boots and coats in the closet, and then, groaning slightly, Alicia climbs the stairs. Bob follows her up, poking her ass playfully, as he often does. She didn’t have the energy to hustle up ahead of him, and she doesn’t have it now to even pretend to be mad. She just shakes her head, half smiling, and keeps putting one foot above the other until she reaches the second floor.

She continues putting one foot in front of the other all the way to Jack’s door. She can hear Bob in the bathroom in their room, swearing as he bends over to take off his socks. Christ, they sure are old. Even New Year’s last year wasn’t this bad, was it?

With a soft knock she pushes Jack’s door open. He is not sleeping but sitting at his computer, earbuds in, talking to… ah, yes, Bitty it is. She fixes as stern an expression on her face as she can manage at this hour and asks, only the tiniest bit snarkily, “Oh, so you were tired and had to pack, huh?”

Jack turns at the sound of her voice, biting his lip and—yes indeed, blushing. “Uh… yeah?” he says, vaguely sheepish.

Alicia kindly does not laugh outright at him. She does relax the stern look. Seems she was on the right track about Bitty, after all, no matter what Jack said.

“Well, Papa and I are going to bed now,” she says. “Make sure you are actually packed, but don’t stay up too much longer. We have to get you to the airport tomorrow.”

Jack nods slightly, apparently not sure how to respond. Alicia takes pity on him, waving toward the camera and calling a hello to Bitty.

“Maman, he can’t see you,” Jack says, maybe exasperated, maybe not.

“Say that again,” Jack instructs Bitty as he pulls his earbuds out of the computer.

In a slightly garbled voice Bitty says, “Hello, Ms. Alicia!”

Alicia waves again, whether he can see her or not, and then Jack says to Bitty, “Ah, yeah, shit, it’s later than I thought—it’s almost two am. She’s right, I should sleep.”

Alicia hears a gasp over the speakers. “It’s what time?” Jack snorts and Bitty continues, “I keep staying up so much later than planned, and it is all your fault!” Alicia has to bite down on a snort of her own. She stares carefully at the ground, lest she catch Jack’s eye and embarrass them both. Bitty carries on, “You and your books I can’t put down, and now this? What happened to telling me to get more rest?”

Before Jack can say anything, Alicia pulls herself together and makes her point. “And Jacqui?” She waits for him to look at her. “T’as ben choisi ton copain.”

“Maman, non. C’t’un ami.”

For now, Alicia thinks, smiling at him fondly and generously not rolling her eyes. “Uh-huh. Go to sleep, kiddo.”

She pats the doorway as she turns to go, and she hears Bitty ask what she was talking about. She pauses just outside the door, curious what Jack will say.

“Oh, she—uh. I don’t… have a lot of my own friends around here, you know? She’s just… glad I’ve finally got a social life, even if it’s ducking out of parties to sit in my bedroom.”

Yes. Yes, she is.

Chapter Text

[1:46 PM]

Sat, Apr 11, 10:18 PM

Hard work, Jacqui. Love you
[heart kissing emoji]

Love you too maman

Today 1:45 PM

Do you and papa have time
to Skype tonight?

Sure! 7?
Read 1:45 PM

Dad

Dax

Raccoon

Saccharin

Factors

D a c c i r d

Fucking ok yes 7

[iMessage]

Alicia clicks her phone off and slides it back into her purse. “Sorry about that,” she says, switching back to French. “Jack wanted to set up a Skype call tonight.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” says Marie, from across the café table. “Is everything alright?”

Alicia brushes the question aside with her hand. “Yeah, I think so. We don’t have a regular call time, so he probably just wants to catch up. He would actually phone me if it was something bad.” Maybe he is ready to talk through the end of the season? Maybe he has news about signing? She’ll find out tonight.

Just then, the server arrives with Michèle’s slice of birthday cake and Alicia and Marie serenade her embarrassingly. When the cake is gone and Marie and Alicia have split the bill, Michèle says, “Thank you again for doing this, mes cheries. This has been a lovely gift.”

“Of course!” replies Marie. “I will let you know when I’m in town again.”

They linger for a few more minutes, then gather up their things and depart.

When Alicia gets to the car, she has another text, this time from Bob.

[2:39 PM]

Today 2:35 PM

Koi29 ak les filles?

Rien de particulier. Elles
disent salut :)

Et toi, ça va? Qu’est-ce
que tu fais?

Chui @ Les Bons Débarras
psk cé le Record Store Day
et ttla musique est en solde.

T'en veux?

Non, merci. Achète pas trop!

Au fait, Jack veut Skyper à
19h, donc le souper est à
18h, d’accord?
Read 2:38 PM

Dak.

[iMessage]

By quarter of seven, Alicia has finished clearing up supper and Bob is done loading the dishwasher. They set up a laptop on the kitchen table, log in to Skype, and send Jack a message to let him know they’re ready. While they wait, Bob plays some of his new music and they sit quietly together, taking it in.

After a few minutes, Jack logs on and sends back a one sec. When the incoming call sound comes through, Alicia shoos Bob off to turn the music down so they can all hear. It takes a minute or so to get all the cameras and mics working, as usual, but finally they’re all seeing eye-to-eye. Sort of. Bob, Alicia, and… Bitty?… seem to be looking vaguely at each other. Jack is there with Bitty, but definitely not looking at the camera.

The “salut” falls off Alicia’s tongue as she processes the image on the screen, her brain switching linguistic gears and reconsidering the probable reasons for this call. “Hey, boys!” she says instead, and she waves.

“Hello!” Bitty replies cheerfully, returning her wave. “How are y’all?”

“Ça va!” Bob says. “We’re doing well! To what do we owe this pleasure, the both of you?”

Jack glances toward the camera and shifts in his seat. The computer shifts with him, and Alicia thinks the two of them are maybe sitting sideways on a bed, up against the wall?

“Um,” Jack says. “I—”

No one says anything when Jack pauses. Alicia is very pleased to see that Bitty gives Jack time and doesn’t prompt him right away.

Jack tries again. “I—We—”

Now Bitty shifts, and Jack looks over toward him. Alicia feels a grin break out across her face, and Bob says, “Euh?” more like “let me in on the secret” and less like he’s pressing Jack for time, either.

“Uh,” Jack says.

“Jacqui,” Alicia cuts in gently. He looks at the camera again. “T’as ben choisi ton copain.”

Jack blushes and ducks his head, but he does smile. He doesn’t protest this time. Ha! So Alicia was right, all along. And we’re doing the meet-the-parents thing already, Alicia thinks. Good for them.

“Ohhhhhh I get it!” Bob says, also smiling. He shakes a finger toward the camera.

Bitty looks confused. “I… think I get it? Can someone repeat that in English, though, just so I’m sure?”

“I told Jack,” Alicia says, “that he’s chosen his boyfriend well.”

“So he has,” Bob agrees, inclining his head, then leaning back in his chair.

Bitty turns slightly pink as well. “Oh! Uh, thank you, Ms. Alicia! Mr.—er, sir—” He breaks off and then knocks his head into Jack’s shoulder, and Alicia just makes out his mumbling, “You’re right, Jack. She is embarrassing. I’ll just… be here,” before he flops sideways out of the frame.

Alicia laughs. Bob does, too, resettling his chair flat on the floor, and adds, “‘Mr. Ersir’ is a new one…” Whatever. They’ll get him on the first name train eventually.

Jack shakes his head, also laughing. “Bittle, get up. You’re so dramatic.”

Speaking of first names… “‘Bittle’?” Alicia asks.

Before Jack can respond, Bitty chimes in, “I know!” from offscreen. “I told him he should just say ‘Bitty’ now, but half the time…”

Jack shrugs, smiling fondly at Bitty. Alicia decides to go in for the kill.

“So,” she says, and nudges Bob with her elbow. “I called it, didn’t I?” Jack freezes. Bob grins. “Back me up, dear. Did I or did I not call this months ago?”

“Oh, you called it,” Bob says agreeably.

Alicia beams at him. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” Bitty says, flailing slightly in his attempt to sit back up. “You what?”

“Oh, no,” Jack says quietly, and squeezes his eyes shut like he thinks he can hide from this by pretending it’s not happening. Alicia starts cackling, and he opens his eyes again.

“Um,” he says, looking at Bitty and then looking down. “She… what she said just now. She said it at New Year’s, too. While we were Skyping. I said she was wrong, then, but.” He shrugs. “Then.”

“Then,” Alicia says, “he texted me when he got back to school and told me he’d decided to admit to himself that he’s not a robot after all and his emotions do exist—”

Jack holds a finger up at the camera. “Hey! That is wild paraphrasing and I will not tolerate—”

“You had your chance, bud. However, the ‘Maman, I have been emotionally compromised’ is a direct quote, and you did this to yourself, Jack, asking me to stop paraphrasing.”

Bob is laughing again. “You never told me about that one, Lise. Magnifique!”

Bitty gasps. “Oh my god. You Vulcan nerd!! You’re not a hockeybot, you’re a hockeyVULCAN. Magnifique, indeed.” (Alicia can see Jack wincing at Bitty’s pronunciation, but Bitty keeps talking, either not noticing or not caring.) “But how did she figure that out from our Skype call? She was only there for a minute.”

“Well,” Bob cuts in, “first of all, Jack rarely voluntarily Skypes anyone, and he definitely doesn’t stare at his phone for a solid hour at Christmas parties.”

“It was New Year’s, Papa,” Jack corrects automatically, clearly not realizing what he’s just done.

“So you do admit to staring at your phone!” Alicia says, triumphant.

Jack realizes what he’s just done. “Fuck,” he says under his breath. “Uh,” he says louder. He doesn’t seem inclined to continue that thought.

Alicia magnanimously gets back to the point. “Anyway, that wasn’t the first time I said that, was it, Jack?”

Jack stares her dead in the eye, at least as much as one can via webcam. “Au contraire, that was indeed the first time you said that, Mother.”

Now it’s Alicia’s turn to groan. “Dear Lord, maybe you are a Vulcan. That certainly wasn’t the first time I made such an observation, if not with those precise words, now was it, O son-of-mine-who-definitely-has-a-future-as-a-lawyer-if-this-whole-hockey-thing-doesn’t-work-out? Christ!”

Jack continues staring at her. Bob and Bitty both seem torn between helpless giggles and wary anticipation. Score another for Maman.

Alicia raises her eyebrows at Jack. Jack deflates slightly. “…No,” he admits. “That was, uh. October.”

“October??” Bitty half-shrieks. “That—what?” Alicia starts cackling again. God, these two are going to be exactly as good for each other as she has been hoping.

Jack rubs the back of his neck with his outside hand. “I mean. I told you that was when I… realized. It was—she said, over Family Weekend, and. I realized she was right.”

“…And it took him another several months to accept that I was right, let alone get his act together and do anything about it,” Alicia says, sticking her tongue out. “Just imagine how long it would have taken if I hadn’t nudged him.”

Bitty laughs. “He just plays hockey, eh?” He turns to Jack, overly saccharine. “Just stick with that, honey, and photography. We’ll get the rest of it.”

Jack flips his middle finger at Bitty and says, “Talk to the hand, Bittle. And your ‘eh’ is not at all convincing yet.”

“Hey, hey now!” says Bitty, as if he’s about to redeem himself. “I gotta give Jack some credit: it only took him a month to ask me out after that!”

Now it’s Alicia’s turn to say, “Wait what?” at the same time that Jack automatically says, “Six weeks. And a couple of kicks in the pants.”

There’s a beat, then Jack groans, realizing his folly yet again. “Ah, shit.”

Bitty leans in and stares directly into the camera. “What did I tell you? Just plays hockey.”

“Shut up, Bittle, I know where you sleep.”

“AND that’s enough of that!” says Bob, effectively ending… whatever that was.

Alicia mentally backtracks and does some quick math. “So, February?” Jack nods. “I should have noticed you were less angst-ridden,” she muses, straight-faced. “Alas. Still, I don’t think I’ve said it in so many words yet, so. Congratulations, gentlemen. We’re very happy for you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Alicia,” Bitty says, smiling.

“Hey, me too!” says Bob, ever eloquent.

“…Try again, dear,” says Alicia.

“Well. Yes. What she said. We are so happy for you.”

“Merci, Papa,” says Jack, and Alicia is struck by how much he has grown since she heard those words for the first time. God, but she does love her boys. Now, lest she turn this lighthearted occasion too nostalgic…

“You sly dog,” she says to Jack, a compliment masquerading as a complaint. “You never let on in the slightest!”

“Ekskyuuuuzeh meee,” Jack replies, in a comically overdone Parisian accent. “We preff-air to be called sly foxes.” They all laugh. Jack continues in his normal voice. “No, but actually, I had a whole plan for how to ‘drop that knowledge bomb on you’, as Shitty would say, but then someone over here went and spilled the beans…” He flicks his eyes toward Bitty as if to say can you believe this idiot?.

“You were planning to set me up for such a shock? I’m wounded, Jack, truly.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Of course you are. Of course. Papa, tend to her wounds or whatever. We should get going…”

Bob holds up his hands in either peace or surrender. It doesn’t really matter which. “Ben sûr, mon fils. J’suis fier de toi—heureux de vous.”

Bitty sighs. “…I’m gonna have to start studying French, aren’t I?”

Bob chuckles, nodding affirmatively. “Ouais, mon fils. I say it again: I’m proud of him, of you both. I’m happy for you. Bonne nuit! Good night!” he adds, with a grin, before Bitty can ask for another translation.

Alicia shakes her head in amusement, her heart absolutely brimming with affection. “Have a lovely evening, boys.”

“Y’all too,” says Bitty. “Bahn-wee!”

Jack brings his outside hand up to his forehead like it aches. “Bonne nuit, Maman, Papa. Je vous aime. Thanks again for everything.”

They all wave goodbye, and just before Bob clicks the hang up button, they hear Jack say, “Bits, your accent is atrocious.”

Alicia buzzes her lips in amusement. Bob snorts. Alicia leans her head over to his shoulder and takes his hand in hers under the table. Bob gives it a squeeze and says, “I really am so happy for him.”

She squeezes back. “Mhmm.”

And yes. Yes, she is.