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Rebecca wasn’t interested in the slightest. Ted had mentioned it in passing during Biscuits with the Boss a ritual that she refused to part with, even now that more often than not, the first time she saw him of a morning was the moment she opened her eyes. There was beauty in ritual, and Ted’s visit to her office first thing in the morning, was one she refused to give up.
He was more than happy to oblige.
They weren’t so saccharine they spent every waking moment together, there were still days that the first time she witnessed his smile was when he slipped that little pink box across her desk; he had nights that he spent in his own flat - more often than not if he had an early morning or if he had a scheduled dinner with Beard - who knew about them, by the way - he was the only one that did.
They had pondered keeping it entirely to themselves, not ready to share, not ready to burst the bubble as it were. But when Ted failed to appear three times in the same week, at his own front door, Beard had started to suspect.
When there was a hint of citrus and peonies coming off his sweater, a distinctly feminine fragrance, he’d called him out.
The first dinner at the pub between the three of them had only been awkward for the first twenty minutes or so, before Beard decided he was completely fine with it and Rebecca was honest enough to admit having Beard aware of their situation, did make things a touch easier. After that, they had many more nights ‘out’ together, with Beard more than happy to be the third wheel, for appearances sake and it certainly made dating beyond the confines of her house or his flat, so much simpler.
There was only one paper that had actually printed the asinine concept of her dating the both of them - a grainy photo taken of the three of them leaving the pub, her arm linked in both of theirs on either side of her - but that rumour had blessedly lasted less than a day. With more concrete things to gossip about, the papers left them alone.
Apparently Rupert was cheating on Bex, but who the fuck was surprised.
She’d never really thought that dating Ted would have resulted in a rather unexpected rapport with Beard. Though, if she had thought about it, she shouldn’t really have been surprised. She’d hired the man, she liked the man - the man had barely held a conversation with her in the near-three years he’d worked for her. But there was a theme that ran through all the people Ted held close to his heart, so her and Beard being remarkably alike in subtle ways, shouldn’t have really been the revelation that it was.
In the time she’d spent falling more in love with Ted and the growing domesticity of their relationship, she had started to realise she had quite a fondness for his reticent best friend, as well. And they both had an affinity for banking useless information and somehow managed to get the joke, any joke at exactly the same time.
Wednesday night was Beard night and Rebecca had so far refused to get in the middle of the sacred holiday, but Ted was practically vibrating in his chair across from her - either from his excitement or the fact that she’d implemented a desk distance at all times policy between them for working hours - when Colin had nearly caught them in the treatment room, Ted’s hand a way up her skirt that couldn’t be so easily excused, she’d felt she had to.
Thank goodness Colin, bless him, was rather dim.
It was his night with his friend, a night she never interfered with, but Mae had also started up a weekly pub quiz at the Crown & Anchor on Wednesday nights and Ted wanted his two favourite people on his team - because both he and Beard felt it a little arrogant to walk in on day one and take out the top prize with a team of two - cocky pricks.
“Come on, Rebecca, I’m sure there’s just oodles of little facts and knowledge up in that pretty noodle of yours.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes fondly, occupying her hands with repositioning her notebook, then her pen, turning her closed laptop just slightly to the left. “Ted, I’m terrible at a pub quiz.”
Ted frowned. “I’m sure that’s not true.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, studying her. “Come on, honey, between you, me and Beard, we can’t lose.”
She pondered it for a moment - she did fucking love a pub quiz, to be fair. She couldn’t let on to Ted, however, because she was a touch ashamed of the many scuffles that had resulted in her youth, over a scoring dispute. Sassy had ended up wearing an entire pint back in June of ‘96 because Rebecca had called the wrong adjudicator a Fucking bellend. But Hamlet was longer than Othello by a good four thousand words, and it fucking mattered.
She was English. A local pub quiz was essentially a blood sport.
Ted gave her that look though - big, round eyes, bottom lip jutted out, sad moustache.
“Fucking fine.” She relented, exasperated but incredibly fond of the idiot she’d fallen in love with. “Come get me when you’re ready to leave.”
“Yes!” He declared, jumping up from his chair, punching the air. “You won’t regret it, honey bunch, not for a second.”
“We’ll see.” She grumbled, but when she felt his broad hands grip her face and his lips press against her temple, releasing her with an exaggerated MWAH! she couldn’t help the smile, watching him practically skip out of the room.
Sometimes she did enjoy when he breached the desk distance rule, and a kiss here or there wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
***
Ted let out a low whistle as they entered the pub, looking quite the group. They drew eyes wherever they went lately, either by way of being recognised or the fact that Rebecca stood a good two inches above them both, wore cinched, figure hugging dresses, designer heels and kept her hands primly in front of her, with her Dolce & Gabbana handbag hanging from her elbow, whilst they scuffed in behind her in Nikes, khaki’s and in Beard’s case, a fucking flat cap.
Even at the Crown & Anchor, where they were well known, it was a common occurrence. Ted attributed it to Rebecca being the head-turner, which Beard offered the slightest of nods in agreement as he took his first sip of his pint - they had this conversation nearly every time they sat down in the same booth - and Rebecca just rolled her eyes, taking her Gin & Tonic from Mae’s hand with an appreciative smile - she learned early on she wasn’t going to win arguing about it, so she let it go.
“Good first-night turnout you got here, Mae.” Ted said.
“These shits have been bugging me to start a quiz for ages.” She jabbed her thumb at the three idiots waving and grinning at them from the end of the bar.
“Well we’re certainly looking forward to it.” Ted noted, grinning up at her. Beard nodded his ascent and Rebecca groaned into her drink.
“Here ya go then,” She placed a double-sided game sheet in front of Rebecca along with a pen. “You do the writing, sweetheart, things should be legible if you want a chance at any of the prizes.”
“What is the prize, Mae?” Ted questioned, glancing at Rebecca who was staring down at the empty ‘Team Name’ section, tapping the pen against the table-top with her lip between her teeth.
“The usual,” She shrugged. “Food vouchers, bottles of wine, meat trays,” A grin spread on her face. “Richmond jersey signed by the owner, manager and assistant manager.”
Ted’s brows pulled together, perplexed and Rebecca and Beard both looked up at Mae a touch confused before she slapped a Richmond jersey on the table with a sharpie and winked at them.
“For fuck’s sake,” Rebecca muttered, however she was already dragging the jersey towards herself, flattening it out and looking for the best spot to sign. She signed it, turned her nose up at the use of a sharpie, of all fucking things, before sliding the jersey to her right for Ted. They each signed in turn, before Beard tossed it back to Mae, then the sharpie and she grinned triumphantly at them.
“Pleasure doing business with you, best of luck with the quiz.”
“We’re gonna fuckin cream you, Wanker.” Baz pulled their attention from Mae’s return to the bar.
Ted grinned as Rebecca reared back, affronted. “Well Baz, a good game is a fair game, I think, may the best quizmaster win.”
Rebecca glared at the side of his face. “Are you honestly going to continue to allow that little twat to call you that?”
“Aw, come on honey, it’s all in good fun.”
“I don’t like it, Ted, it’s unseemly.”
Ted just stared at her, blinking, the tiniest little smile on his face. “Are you defending my honour, honey?”
“Oh, do shut up.” She grumbled, scribbling something down on the game sheet with a flourish, exaggerating the addition of a full-stop.
“What d’ya go with?” Beard questioned, taking a sip of his beer and Rebecca lifted the sheet to show them, grinning proudly at the team name she’d given them. The Boss Ass Greyhounds. “Nice, I like it.”
***
He could see Rebecca couldn’t help it. She’d tried to show her displeasure, she’d tried to put on the front that she didn’t want to be there, but with every question that had been dropped precisely within her wheelhouse, her competitive streak only intensified - and it was obvious.
Beard was a veritable wellspring of obscure knowledge, which was expected, at least from his perspective - though to her credit, Rebecca hadn’t yet appeared in the least surprised. Ted was holding his own, sipping happily on a pint as his girlfriend and his best friend leaned across him to confer on nearly every question.
They had the tact to keep their voices low, whispering with their heads close together as they disputed geography, linguistics and advancements in social media.
Baz, Paul and Jeremy were less so, which seemed to cause great amusement for Rebecca, who’s smirk became all the more smug, with every question she just knew they had wrong.
“Okay,” The voice of the guy reading out the questions filled the space - an older gentleman in a Richmond scarf named Steven - the crackly microphone a little difficult to hear over the din. “Question thirty five. In the space provided on your game sheet, name all of the Von Trapp children from the Sound of Music. One point for each child and a bonus point for having them in order.”
Beard grinned and Ted excitedly pulled in a breath, the pair of them leaning over towards Rebecca, ready to drop their two cents in the pot when she held her hand up, practically smushing her palm against Ted’s face.
“Fuck off, I’ve got this.”
The two men shared a grin as she scribbled out all seven names from Liesl to Gretel. “What’s a Von Trapp?” they heard Jeremy ask Baz who shrugged and Rebecca lifted her head once she’d finished scribbling each child’s age above their name, grinning broadly at the two men beside her.
“Good work, baby.” Ted winked, nudging her shoulder as he waved for Mae to bring them another round.
“Okay, some local ones now, Ms Welton," Steven and his crackly microphone grabbed her attention and Rebecca craned her neck to meet his eye. “We’re going to need you to sit this one out.”
“What the fuck, why?”
“The questions are about the club, hon.” Mae answered and Rebecca huffed petulantly, slumping back in her seat as she shoved the game sheet over in front of Ted before crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why is it then that Ted and Beard aren’t excluded?”
“Yeah, we don’t expect those two to know the answers.”
Rebecca pouted, kicking Ted’s foot under the table when he laughed.
“Okay, in what year did Richmond play their first match.”
Beard and Ted both scratched their chins in thought, Rebecca staring at them like they’d lost their minds, her jaw hanging open. “Fuck me,” She groaned, shifting in her seat, pressing her side against Ted’s. She hooked her leg over his under the table, reaching over to press her palm to his stomach, caressing the fabric of his jumper.
“Ah, Rebecca,” He muttered under his breath as her hand shifted, her fingers flexing against his shirt. “We’re in public.”
“But I love the feel of your jumper, Ted.” She snuggled a little closer, brushing her palm up his chest, spreading her fingers out and he blinked at her, completely perplexed - she was the one who hated obnoxious public displays of affection, she was the one that argued for continued hush on their relationship, she was the one…his train of thought trailed off when Beard snatched the pen from his hand and scribbled down a number.
1897
It was then Ted felt Rebecca’s finger tapping on his chest, rhythmically. Right on top of the AFC Richmond crest embroidered on his shirt. Ohhhh. He dropped a kiss to her cheek as she shuffled back to a more respectable distance, but kept her hand on his knee.
They carried on like that, with Rebecca clearing a tickle in her throat each time they scribbled down an incorrect answer, squeezing Ted’s knee when they got it right. Across the table, Beard was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.
Both of them enjoyed the cheating just a little too much, Ted thought. Though they were never going to keep the jersey if they won - so that’s how Ted managed to rationalise it in his head.
Ironically, it was the ’What year did Richmond play their first match?’ question, that caused the first signs of a scuffle. Rebecca was nibbling at their communal bowl of chips, dipping them in a little pot of vinegar that sat directly in front of her as Ted scrunched his nose up in disgust at every bite, whilst the answers were read aloud to the room.
Their score was near perfect, just a couple wrong, none in the Richmond specific round except the first question - the answer for that was called out as 1896 and Rebecca saw red.
“That’s fuckin wrong.” She scoffed, shoving another chip in her mouth as they rattled off the rest of the answers, declaring the Boss Ass Greyhounds the overwhelming winners, in spite of some dubious sportsmanship in the Richmond round - but they couldn’t prove shit.
“Honey, it’s fine, we won anyway.”
“It’s the principle of the thing, Ted.” Beard backed her up and Rebecca pointed at him, as if to emphasise her point.
“Guys, it really doesn’t matter.”
“Like fuck it doesn’t, Ted.” Rebecca started to get up from the table. “I’m going to tell him.”
Ted scrambled up after her, weaving through the crowd in her wake, with Beard hot on his heels. “Oi, you, shithead!” She pointed at the guy with the clipboard who looked like a rabbit in headlights at her approach.
“Did you even research your questions?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you do a lick of research?” She leaned forward, hands on her hips, and Ted had to be honest even if it was just inside his own head, the look of Rebecca indignantly pissed off, her chest heaving in a dress that barely contained her when she was calm, was just a little bit hot.
“Huh?”
“The club was founded in eighteen ninety-seven, you fucking pillock!”
“Okay, there we go, that’s enough!” Beard managed to hook an arm around her waist before she sunk her day-old manicure into the man’s arm - she’d gotten them freshly filled in with a soft pink that matched Ted’s biscuit boxes just the day before and both Ted and Beard knew she’d be devastated if she chipped one - he shuffled her back towards the door, grabbing their coats and her bag off the back of the booth as he shoved her out.
“Sorry about that, Mae, Steven,” Ted smiled sheepishly at one then the other, fixing up their bill with a few notes tossed on the counter.
“Ah it’s alright, love,” Mae reached over and squeezed his hand. “She's got spirit, that one. You hang onto her.” She winked and he felt his cheeks heat just a little. “Here’s your dinner voucher,” She handed over a $150 voucher for the Crown & Anchor and Ted grinned.
“Thanks Mae, hey, divvy the other prizes up with the runners up, will ya? And pass the jersey on to Baz?”
“Sure thing, hon.”
He nodded his head, following Beard and Rebecca out the door.
Ted found them just outside, Beard standing stock still in the middle of the square with his and Rebecca’s coats hanging over his arm and her bag in one hand as she paced, tugging on her dress at her middle, huffing indignantly.
“Can you believe that!” She exclaimed when she spotted Ted, pointing in the general direction of the pub, arbitrary in her accusation.
Ted smiled at her softly.
She huffed a little more, paced a few more steps before she stopped in front of him, her eyes studying his growing smile and she let out a long breath, slumping her shoulders. “Shit. She grumbled, hands back on her hips again, but this time she was just a touch embarrassed. “See,” She wagged her finger at Ted. “This shit is why I don’t like Pub Quiz nights.”
“Oh,” Ted was still smiling - rather smugly - as he gratefully took her coat from Beard’s arm, shaking it out before helping her into it. “This is definitely a new Wednesday night tradition.”
“Teeeed!” She whined but he just laughed, reaching for her handbag as well.
“I think we should invite Keeley and Roy too,” He glanced over, sharing a look with his friend who was nodding his head.
“Oh yeah.” Beard agreed.
***
The following Wednesday they took up the same booth, except with Keeley and Roy tucked in on Rebecca’s other side, ostensibly locking her in the booth - she refused to acknowledge if that had been planned. And they managed to polish off their entire voucher from the previous week, with their dinner order. In a way, they were celebrating the fact they’d told Keeley and Roy about their relationship, letting the two of them into the bubble that had so far consisted of just them and Beard.
Keeley had squealed so loud when they told her, the players out on the pitch had heard her even though Rebecca’s windows were closed.
They kept the same team name, because why fix what isn’t broken? And Rebecca was down three Gin & Tonic’s before things started to get a bit competitive. The hissing and arguing happening over Ted’s lap between Beard and Rebecca was honestly, incredibly amusing, with Rebecca snatching the game sheet back from Beard whenever she declared him writing too slowly.
Roy was a surprise, getting just as into it as Rebecca and Beard, fueling Rebecca’s fire and Ted would have regretted it, if their petulant behaviour was anything but amusing. After a brief bathroom break, he returned to see Beard, Rebecca and Roy huddled together over the game sheet and Keeley at the other end of the booth, happily sipping on her cocktail, rolling her eyes at them fondly.
“It’s like wrangling toddlers,” She commented when he sat back down next to her.
“Three very tall, very intimidating toddlers.”
She snorted.
“They’re going to win, aren’t they?” She questioned and Ted grinned, lifting his pint to take a sip.
“Oh, yes, Rebecca says they have a reputation to uphold.”
“Good, because I was hoping to win that Richmond scarf signed by Roy Kent.” She grinned over the rim of her glass and Ted laughed.
***
Week three and Rebecca was the first one out of the club, much to Ted’s amusement. Fucking hurry up was the delicate term expressed, which had him laughing all the way to the Rolls, his back pack over his shoulder. By that point, the whole team knew about Pub Quiz Wednesdays and even though some of the boys had expressed intrigue at the concept, Ted was a little relieved when Rebecca tugged him through the doors and none of them were there. She pulled him out of the Richmond chill and into the Crown & Anchor warmth, grabbing a game sheet from the end of the bar as Ted gestured with two fingers to Mae - she knew what he was ordering, the raised hand was enough.
“Do you think they’ll have a pop culture section tonight?”
“Don’t know, sweets.” He gave the hem of her blazer a little tug by the edge of the bar as she scribbled their team name onto the sheet.
Beard was next, tipping his hat at them as he stepped through the door and Ted wasn't in the least offended when Rebecca scurried off to join his friend in the booth - apparently they were no longer even pretending that Ted was of much use to the team dynamic.
“She’s promised to behave herself.” Ted said by way of greeting as Mae approached him with their drinks, dropping a slice of lemon in Rebecca’s as she set them on the bar in front of him.
“Are you kiddin’, she’s the best thing about Wednesdays, let her do her thing, sweetie.”
Ted blushed. “Thanks, Mae.”
“Hey, I’ve seen your face light up when that woman gets to be one hundred percent herself. It’s a beautiful sight, on both of you. You notice anyone bothered by her enthusiasm, you point me their way.”
“You’re the best, Mae.” He gave her a wink before turning on the spot and heading over to their booth. Keeley and Roy were there by the time he made it back, all four of them with their noses in the dinner menu. Rebecca looked up over her’s with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye just for him.
At the rate they’re going, unless Mae changes the main prize they’re unlikely to pay for another meal on a Wednesday again. But the woman doesn’t seem to mind, grinning when they place three orders of fish and chips, a steak with chips - medium rare - and a chicken pie.
“You realise that leaves you with twelve pounds left on the tab.”
Rebecca’s the first to make a sound, an adorable little ‘ooh that made Ted chuckle.
“Did you have something in mind, darling?”
Rebecca sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, turning to him, smiling bashfully. “I’ve always wanted to try the decedent brownie.”
“I’ll add it on,” She pointed to her with her pencil. “You want ice cream with that?”
“Ooh, yes please.”
Mae gave the table a little rap of her knuckles as she gathered up their menus and headed off.
They were about halfway through their meals when Roy spotted Isaac entering the pub from the far door. “Oh what the fuck’s this now?” A broad grin stretched across Isaac’s face when he noticed them.
“Oi, bruv, gaff, Ms Welton,” He grinned at them all. Colin, Jamie, Jan Maas and Dani followed along behind him, all offering their own greetings in turn.
“What are all you boys doin here, then?” Keeley questioned, around a chip.
Isaac cracked his knuckles deviously. “Thought we’d give it a crack at beatin the reigning champs, innit?”
“Oh you haven’t got a hope in hell.” Beard stated, raising his chin defiantly.
“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that, won’t we fellas?” Colin chimed in, giving Isaac’s jacket a tug as they made their way over to their own booth.
“Shit just got real.” Beard noted.
Rebecca snorted. “Barely.”
“Rebecca,” Ted admonished and she turned to him sharply, amusement in her eyes as she made a show of looking affronted.
“What? I adore them, but they’re not exactly joining Mensa.”
“Jesus christ, babe.” Keeley laughed with a mouthful, turning to Roy who hadn’t ever looked more proud of Rebecca.
“She’s not wrong.” He added. “They got fucking trapped in an escape room a few weeks ago. On the fucking third clue.” They all stared at him before he added. “It was a Disney themed escape room for under twelves.”
Beard took a deep breath in through his nose. “Yeah, we’re good.” he gave a nod.
The ‘Richmond Players, Innit?’ didn’t do too badly, on any question with subject matter post 1993. But the Boss Ass Greyhounds still took out the top spot and Ted felt his heart swell with admiration as he watched Rebecca dance in her seat with a brownie covered spoon sticking out of her mouth.
It took every piece of willpower he had, not to kiss the smudge of chocolate off the corner of her lip.
***
“What’s this?” Ted questioned, stepping up to Isaac who was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, nose in a text book about - he grabbed the spine to tip it up and look at the cover - Beetles.
“You gotta know random shit other people don’t know to be good at trivia, innit?” Ted nodded slowly, a little dumbfounded. The logic was sound, but as he glanced at the other books around him, he frowned.
“Yeah, Isaac, I don’t think this is gonna work, bud.”
“How come? Ms Welton and Coach Beard are good at it, Roy too. And they know all sorts of stuff.”
Ted crouched down in front of him. “Not everything they know has come from a book. And trivia questions are topical. Why don’t you focus more on paying attention to the news, or check out some of those Netflix documentaries Colin likes. General knowledge is cumulative. Make sense?”
“Kinda.”
Ted smirked. “And maybe ask Sam to join the team.” He patted the Captain’s leg with a comforting smile as he stood up. He knew they still didn’t have a hope in hell of beating his ultra-competitive girlfriend who had a university degree, and twenty years life experience on them, but at least with Sam, they might get a few more right.
***
By week five Higgins decided to follow along with his wife to see what all the hullabaloo was about and by that point, Ted and Rebecca had almost completely thrown the secrecy of their relationship in the fuckit-bucket. She had her arm around his waist as they waited at the bar, her chin rested on his shoulder as she pressed her nose just behind his ear.
“Do you think we could duck to your place quickly and be back before the first round starts?”
Ted gulped and turned to her, eyes wide as she grinned at him. “With the things I’d want to do with you, honey, I’m afraid not.”
“What about the bathroom?” She looked at him through her lashes, tugging at his jumper near his stomach.
He glanced over his shoulder, the boys were at their booth, sharing a seafood platter and strategizing. Over at their own booth, Beard was giving the Higgins’ a rundown of the game plan - because he and Rebecca certainly had one - and Roy and Keeley were off in their own little word, Keeley’s giggles reaching them all the way over at the bar.
“No one is looking for us, right now.” He admitted and that was all she needed. She tugged on his wrist, pulling him along the bar with a devilish grin on her face, guiding him down the hall and into the ladies bathroom. She quickly latched the door before pulling on his shirt collar, backing up to the sinks as he kissed down the column of her neck.
“D’you see where Rebecca went?” Keeley questioned, craning her neck over the expanding crowd. The last they’d seen both Rebecca and Ted, they were by the bar and Keeley really wanted her prosecco.
“They went to get us some drinks.” Higgins confirmed.
“Isn’t that our drinks?” Julie pointed to the four beers, the two Gin & Tonics and the tall Prosecco glass sitting in a cluster at the end of the bar. “Oh, there they are.” Julie added, smiling as she spotted Ted and Rebecca emerging from around the corner. Rebecca was adjusting her blouse and Ted hung back a little behind her to brush at a tuft of her hair that was sticking out haphazardly at the back.
“Oh, that’s fucking adorable.” Keeley grinned, watching the pair of them stack the drinks onto a tray together.
“I remember when Leslie and I were like that.” Julie swooned and Keeley just grinned at her.
“Like what?”
Julie blinked at her husband. “Like them, Leslie. Ted and Rebecca.”
“What about them, my love?”
“They’re insatiable. They just popped back from the loo, together.”
Higgins blinked up at Ted and Rebecca as they returned to the table, drinks for everyone and wide smiles on their faces - for the first time in months, he spotted the sweet little smile they shared with each other.
Higgins’ eyes bugged. Oh.
He struggled to look away from them the entire evening; that was until there was a round on Name the classical musical movement from this chord progression and he became indispensable to the team.
“So how long has this been going on?” Julie questioned, leaning a little against Rebecca’s shoulder, gesturing between her lap and Ted’s where their hands were less than inconspicuously entwined.
“Oh, ah,” Rebecca blanched. “A little over five months.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. I’m so happy for the pair of you.”
“Thanks Julie.”
“Leslie, how did you not spot this, they’re absolutely adorable.” She admonished her husband who threw his hands up in defeat, seeing little sense in arguing the point with her. “We’ll have to have you pair over for dinner sometime.”
Higgins met Rebecca’s eye across the table as she smiled as she answered his wife. “That sounds lovely, Julie.”
“Question fourteen: What is the name of the main antagonist in the Shakespeare play Othello?”
Everyone looked at Rebecca. “Why the fuck do you all assume I know?” She baulked.
“Do you?” Ted pushed.
“Of course I do, but it’s rude to assume.” She added with a whisper, leaning over toward Beard who was currently acting as scribe. “The answer is Iago.”
“Oh, goodness, I was thinking it was Claudius.” Julie shrugged.
“That’s Hamlet, dear.”
“Oh yes, indeed it is.”
***
Rebecca hadn’t been interested in the slightest. Not because she didn’t enjoy a pub quiz, but because on occasion, she enjoyed it just a little too much. Her competitive streak ran deep and she blamed it on her father - sitting in the Richmond owners box since she was still in pigtails, screaming her little lungs out when their team was running down the pitch.
She just couldn’t help it. She’d like to play fair and calmly - fair happened more often than calm - but there was a rush that came from getting the answer right before anyone else, that was honestly euphoric.
A boost of serotonin.
Honestly, she just loved to win.
It certainly helped that Beard was a fountain of obscure knowledge. He filled in her gaps - she might own a Premier League sports club, but ask her questions about Cricket or Rugby or fucking Lacrosse and she was out. But she knew more about the Spice Girls than she was ever willing to let on to mixed company, so they were about even.
Ted was good for the history questions, and the hand on her thigh, and getting her a fresh drink when she was empty - not to mention, a warm chest on which to lean as the hour grew late.
Ultimately, she was glad that he’d dragged her into this new tradition. Almost eight weeks into the weekly pub quiz nights at the Crown & Anchor and she’d say the room was probably about thirty percent AFC Richmond employees.
They had four teams now. She, Ted, Keeley, Roy and Beard remained the original ‘Boss Ass Greyhounds’ - the as yet undefeated champions. The ‘Richmond Players, Innit?’ team changed composition from one week to the next, but always had about five to six of the boys from the team - sometimes Richard’s girlfriend of the week - sometimes the combination of Sam and Reynolds, which bumped them up a little in their ranking.
Leslie had encouraged a few more of the admin staff to come along and get involved, forming his own little team that occasionally melded with the Greyhounds. And the physios sat in the corner with Sharon, giving them a fair run for their money - if there was a contender to be worried about, it was the ‘Doctors without Offices’ - the name of which she was sure, was a bit of a dig.
“Okay, question seventeen: What’s longer, a nautical mile or a mile?”
Rebecca straightened up in her seat, leaning against Ted’s chest a little more, meeting Beard’s eye.
“Is that a trick question?” Keeley asked. “Like a baker’s dozen or something?”
“It’s a nautical mile,” Roy said softly and Beard frowned, hesitating. “Fucking put it, that’s right.”
“State your sources.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot, just put it.” Roy grumbled.
“Question eighteen: Which two country singers famously sang together on 1983 song Islands in the Stream?
“Ooh!” Ted bounced in his seat, jostling Rebecca who gripped his thigh a little in surprise. “I know that one.”
“Well if anyone’s fucking gonna.” Roy muttered.
“It’s the gambler himself, Mr Kenny Rogers.” He offered Rebecca a wink. “And the incomparable Dolly Parton.” He gave Rebecca’s shoulder a little affectionate nudge. “Did you know her middle name is actually Rebecca?”
Rebecca smirked. “I didn’t, actually.”
“That’s not the only thing they’ve got in common.” Keeley grinned, holding her hands out in front of her like she was holding two melons at the market.
“Question nineteen: How many different teams have won the Premier League since the start of the inaugural season in 1992/93?”
Everyone looked at Rebecca and she huffed. Her finger danced in the air for a moment like she was counting, she closed one eye and tilted her head before opening her eyes again, turning to Beard and stating definitively. “Six.”
“That’s hot.” Keeley muttered.
“Damn straight.” Ted agreed.
“Fucking hell.” Roy groaned.
“I could list them if you like.” She smirked cockily, snuggling up against Ted’s side, rubbing her hand across his thigh.
“Save it for later, honey.”
Rebecca licked her lips and winked in response.
“That is the weirdest fucking flirting I have ever seen.”
“Doesn’t make it any less sexy, Roy.” Keeley said and he offered her a reluctant shrug of agreement.
Of course, they went on to win the night, earning themselves another $150 to cover their dinner the following week. Rebecca managed to keep her temper in check, until Steven called out the answer to question nineteen incorrectly. He stated the number as five, which prompted Rebecca to kick off her heels, climb up to stand on the seat of the booth - with Ted’s arm around her legs to stop her toppling over the table, and list off as she counted on her fingers.
“Manchester United, Manchester City, Chelsea, Arsenal, Leicester and Blackburn - you fucking,”
Ted cut her off before she could finish the insult. “Okay, Rebecca honey, I think the man gets it.”
“Does he, though, Ted?” She glared down at him. “Does he?”
“Come on, hon, here, Roy’s got your shoes.” He pointed over to her other side where Roy was holding her shoes in the air and she snatched them from him, rather petulantly as Keeley giggled; all of them filing out of the booth. Ted scooched out last, holding his hands out to help her walk around to the end of the booth.
“Fact check.” She enunciated clearly, waving her finger at Steven as Ted ushered her out the door. “It’s not fucking hard.”
They spilled out into the square, smiling and giggling at Rebecca who had managed to calm her annoyance at the man who seemed to, week on week, put in a dodgy answer just to see what she’d do. Making it the Premier League question seemed like a low blow, but she was sure she’d get him next week.
“Come on, love, time to head home.” Ted tugged on her hand and she pulled her coat around her tighter. She accepted a kiss on the cheek from both Keeley and Roy and then surprisingly, from Beard as well, before she and Ted watched their friends disappear into the night. “Wanna go to the flat?”
“Mm,” She hummed, slumping against him and wrapping her arms around his middle, burrowing her face in his neck as he laughed. “The flat is closer.”
“Flat it is.” He started to direct them down Paved Crt.
“But my sheets are softer.”
Ted spun them around again. “House it is.”
“But then, I did stash a bar of chocolate in your dresser.” She giggled. “Let's go get that first.”
“Flat it is, m’lady.”
They wandered slowly, Rebecca wrapped around him, his arm over her shoulders. “I really like Pub Quiz night, Ted.” She mumbled sleepily, stumbling just a little in her heel on a cobblestone as Ted laughed gently in her ear.
“I think Pub Quiz night really likes you too, my love.”