Chapter Text
“All right, fellas! Good hustle today! Just remember to watch your accuracy, even during training. We don't need any more friendly fire around here.” Ted raised his eyebrows pointedly at Colin, who had accidentally (and thankfully, comparatively gently) passed the ball straight to Dani’s face during their last drill.
“Yes, coach!” the boys chorused. As the team scattered to get changed (and, in Dani’s case, get his swollen cheek looked at), Ted noticed Rebecca cautiously peeking into the locker room. Once she confirmed that no one was naked yet, she walked toward him with a bright smile, brandishing paperwork.
“Ted!” She looked victorious, which was his favorite Rebecca look - the all-conquering boss, kicker of asses (or “arses” he supposed, though that never sounded right to him).
“Hey there, boss! What brings you to our neck of the building? Exciting news? Want me to gather the boys again?”
“No thank you, nothing like that. I wanted to tell you I finally found a translator for Laurent. I just need you to sign off and we can have him here by tomorrow.” Simon Laurent, their new defender, had just transferred from Marseille with amazing positional awareness and very little English. While Thierry and Richard had been happy to help him get the lay of the land so far, neither Rebecca nor Ted wanted them shouldering that extra responsibility for too long.
“Wonderful! Mare-see to you for taking care of this,” he said while scribbling his John Hancock on the contract. Rebecca winced at his accent, but managed not to comment, which was progress, honestly. (Theirry had laughed himself hoarse the first time Ted had tried to introduce himself to Laurent. “It is not an apple, coach! Je m’appelle !” Try as he might, Ted couldn’t hear the difference, which, he supposed, was most of the problem.)
“De rien, mon ami moustachu .” Of course Rebecca spoke flawless French; her competence never surprised him.
“Yep. Also that…to you, too.” Rebecca rolled her eyes fondly as she took the papers back and went to tell the good news to Laurent, who was seated at his locker, wiping his sweaty forehead with his shirt. He and Rebecca exchanged quick pleasantries before she headed out, to, Ted assumed, do more boss things. Securing sponsors, meeting with shareholders, reviewing prospects. Kicking butt, taking names, normal Rebecca stuff.
And that would have been the end of it, except that Laurent added something under his breath once the door closed behind her. Ted didn’t hear what, and he wouldn’t have been able to understand even if he had, but whatever it was made Richard’s face darken. He stood over Laurent, rapidly yelling…something, none of which Ted got, though he was pretty sure he caught “Welton!” in there somewhere. Laurent, it seemed, did not take kindly to the scolding and stood up, chest to chest with Richard, responding just as passionately in his own defense.
“Hey, hey, hey fellows! What has got y’all so hyped up? I haven’t seen the temperature shift like that since I told Beard I thought Donnie Darko was overrated.” Ted heard Beard growl softly behind him, but ignored it for the moment - they would talk about it later. Probably at length. Again.
Richard briefly paused his glowering at Laurent to look at Ted and said “Do not worry, coach, I am just reminding Simon here of the rules. He will not make such a mistake again.” The last sentence was punctuated with a jab to Laurent’s chest, sharp enough to make him stumble. Ted gently moved the two players farther apart before Laurent could jab back .
“Richard, you know I appreciate you helping out with our Tower of Babel situation here, but if something needs to be explained to a new player, don’t you think I oughta be involved?”
“It is not necessary. We can all ,” he emphasized the last word with more force than Ted expected, “explain such things to our new friend.”
Ted wasn’t sure how much of that Laurent actually understood, but he seemed to catch the implied threat just fine. He nodded at Ted and sat back down on the bench, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Peace achieved for the moment, Ted decided not to push it, and returned to his office. Maybe it was a cultural thing? They had different baguette opinions or something? (He really should learn more about France, now that they were practically neighbors. Maybe Beard could recommend a book.)
“What in the heck was that all about?” he asked Beard and Roy. ”Richard is usually a lover, not a fighter.”
“Richard knows better than to let anyone talk about Rebecca that way,” Roy answered. “Told the little prick to shut his fucking mouth or he would shut it for him.” He nodded with satisfaction. “Good man.”
“Talk about Rebecca?! What? Why? Did she get the wrong translator or something?” Ted prided himself on understanding people, and he hadn’t seen any tension when the two spoke. He couldn’t imagine that Rebecca had accidentally offended Laurent somehow - she was a smooth operator in English; speaking French would probably just make her smoother.
Beard and Roy looked at each other silently, and then at Ted. Beard spoke first.
“Most players outside of Richmond aren’t used to working with a lot of women, especially in positions of power. That can mean some of them act…”
“Like fucking idiots.”
“Yes, thank you, Roy. Like fucking idiots, especially when the woman in question is…”
“Really fucking hot.”
“Again, thank you, Roy. Rebecca is a woman and an attractive one. From what I understood - which wasn’t much mind you, French class was a long time ago - Laurent thought the locker room was a safe space to…comment on that.”
“He thought he could say he wanted to suffocate himself in her…chest” Roy interjected again, clearly working hard to censor the last word. Ted appreciated the effort.
“Your command of the language is honestly impressive, Roy. How did you learn to speak French?” Beard wondered at him.
“I don’t fucking speak it, I just understand it. Had to know what those bastards were saying to me on the pitch so I could make them eat it.”
“Spite is such an underused pedagogical tool,” Beard mused. “Anyway, don’t worry about it, Ted. Everyone knows we respect the boss here. Including Laurent, now.” Beard and Roy turned to the whiteboard, apparently satisfied that the conversation was over.
Ted wasn’t so sure. “Hold up, are you saying this has been an issue before!? And you haven’t told me?”
Beard and Roy gave each other that same silent look, which Ted was beginning to find a little annoying, and Beard once again spoke first. “It’s not an epidemic or anything, but there’s been the occasional comment or two, a few bigger issues. That kid from Manchester last month…” Beard whistled and Roy nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, Jamie almost throttled that fucking guy. I would’ve helped.” Ted had been in Kansas last month, spending an extended vacation with Henry. He’d never even met the player; when he got back, Beard had just said that he wasn’t a good fit and Ted had accepted it. Apparently he should have asked more questions.
“...But mostly, they’re fine.” Beard continued. “We’ve been dealing with it, Ted. They know the score. You saw how quick the boys were to shut that down.”
“Well, yes, that’s gratifying, but again, why haven’t I been made aware of this?” Ted could feel himself getting frustrated. He was the manager, right? Why would they hide something like this from him?
“We honestly thought it might upset you. I can see now how wrong we were.”
Beard’s obvious sarcasm gave Ted pause, and he took a moment to get himself under control. Was he overreacting here? He wasn’t naive - he had worked in athletics his entire adult life, and college jocks aren’t exactly known for their sensitivity and tact around women. He had heard some things on the field and in the locker room that made him blush even now. But he had worked hard to make his team inclusive and welcoming, dammit! That should include the boss.
“She's a part of this team, coach,” he said, keeping his voice nice and calm. “I just don't want her to feel she's got anything to worry about, even down here.”
“Mhm.” Beard somehow managed to look stoic and skeptical at the same time. How did he do that?
“Rebecca’s heard a lot worse in her life than anything these boneheads can come up with,” Roy argued. “I doubt they’d worry her at all. Blondie is not delicate.”
“I’m not saying she is.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I just…I don’t like it, I guess.” He really didn’t like it.
“Want us to cut him? Send him back over the Channel?” Ted could tell Beard’s offer was in earnest. If he said the word, Laurent would be gone.
“No, no.” Of course he kind of wanted exactly that. No second chances for sexist pigs, just a swift farewell. But that would be an overreaction right? Didn’t he usually let people mess up and grow from it? Wasn’t that kind of his whole thing? Going all zero tolerance would prove Beard right in keeping this stuff from him. “Just let me know if he mouths off again. He’ll have a translator tomorrow, so I can explain things for him. Nice and clear.”
Roy nodded and changed the subject to their upcoming match against Liverpool. Ted pretended not to notice Beard giving him a considering look.
Ted was still fuming a bit during his session with Dr. Sharon the next day when she asked “How's the new defender fitting in? Is he making connections with the other players?”
Ted had mentioned last week that he worried Laurent might feel isolated on the team, and that he hated not being able to give him pep talks. (”You know talking is what I do best, Doc.”)
“He's…” Ted trailed off, not quite sure how to finish the thought. Sharon lifted an eyebrow, shocked (or her version of shocked anyway) to see Ted at a loss for words.
“I'm not so sure about him, Doc. Seems that language barrier may have been hiding a bad attitude.”
“Oh?”
“He caused a bit of a to-do yesterday when Rebecca stopped by. Apparently, he’s the guy who fulfills all those “locker room talk” stereotypes. He made a gross comment about her…figure before the boys shut him down.”
“Mmm.” Dr. Sharon could give Beard a run for his money in the noncommittal noise department.
“Yeah, and I learned he’s not the only one who’s talked about her that way. Beard-o and Roy have been stomping out little flares of Rebecca-related rudeness for a while now!”
The intensity in his voice made Sharon look up from her notes. “This really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does! He shouldn't talking about her like that! I don’t understand why it doesn’t bother Roy and Beard more, to be honest! Rebecca’s their friend, too! She shouldn’t have to deal with nonsense from her own team.”
“Yes, given, but I doubt it would be news to her. She is a woman in professional sports, and a very attractive one.”
“Yeah, yeah that’s just what Beard said.”
“But you aren’t satisfied with that.” It wasn’t a question.
“No!”
“Has Laurent said anything similar again?”
“No.” And Ted had to admit that he had been listening more than was reasonable to the rapid French that passed between the player and his new translator, hunting for any mention of Rebecca’s name. He even looked up “boss,” “blonde,” and (sheepishly) “breasts” on Google translate just to be sure he wasn’t missing anything. He might have also given the kid extra laps at the end of practice to “get him up to speed with conditioning.” Beard had given him a long look at that one.
“Ted, this can’t be the first time that you have overheard a player saying something sexist.”
“Of course it’s not.”
“I don’t even imagine it’s the first time that you’ve overheard a comment about a woman you know or are friends with. You’re friendly with Keeley, for example…”
“I know, I know.” He had heard how the guys ribbed Jamie about his girlfriend. Of course, that had completely stopped when she and Roy got together. Funny how that worked. He sighed. “I guess I’m just being silly, doc.”
“No, let’s sit with this for a moment, Ted. It seems like it’s causing you distress. And you should pay attention to things that evoke big reactions. They may tell you something. So what is this telling you?”
“That I don’t like Laurent?” He really, really didn’t.
“Maybe. But I’m thinking of something a bit deeper. How did you feel when you realized what Laurent had said?”
“Angry.”
“Anger at him?”
“Obviously.” He paused. “And at Beard and Roy.”
“Why at Beard and Roy?”
“For keeping things from me! Especially things about Rebecca!”
“Because Rebecca is your friend?”
“Yes!”
“But you said yourself, she’s their friend, too. Do you not trust them to have her back? To deal with it appropriately?”
“No, no, of course I do. And they have! I just don’t like…they acted like it was obvious. Like I should have expected that some of the boys would…react to Rebecca. Notice her like that, talk about her that way. And I felt…” He felt wrong-footed and foolish and…exposed? For some reason? But that was all very hard to put into words. He waved his hands in frustration instead.
“Ahh.” Oddly, Sharon looked quietly satisfied with his incomplete sentence. Like she had solved a tricky puzzle or figured out that Connections game that Beard was always trying to get him to try.
“Ahh what?”
“Well, Ted, I think there are two possibilities, one of which I don’t completely buy, but we’ll state it anyway.”
“Hit me with it, doc.”
“First, you and Rebecca have become such close friends that you see her almost as a sister, and thus cringe to imagine her as a sexual being who could attract the attentions of others.” Doc didn’t give much away, but Ted could tell she was skeptical. As was he; Ted was an only child, but he didn’t imagine his friendship with Rebecca was brotherly. Close, yes. But not familial. He made a face.
At his reaction, Sharon said “Yes, that’s what I thought, too. So that leaves us with the second option.”
“Which is?”
“You are uncomfortable with Laurent’s objectifying behavior not only because it’s inappropriate and you want to - very reasonably - protect your friend, but because you shy away from acknowledging that Rebecca is a desirable woman as a way to protect yourself.”
Ted was nonplussed. “How would that protect me?”
“You tell me, Ted. In fact, think about it and get back to me next session.” They were out of time. Of course.
And God, he hated when she ended sessions like that. It always meant he had to think about things that he would rather not think about and usually ended with him understanding something about himself that he had (almost) comfortably kept packed away for a good reason.
But experience also told him that Sharon wouldn’t let it go next week, so, like a good student, Ted did his homework and thought about it while he made Rebecca’s biscuits that evening. Why wouldn’t he want to think of Rebecca as desirable? He mulled. Pondered, even.
He wasn’t blind, after all. He had recognized that Rebecca was beautiful right away, before they even met. When Richmond first contacted him for the position and he wanted to know who exactly thought it was a good idea to hire him to coach a sport he had never even played in a country he had never visited, his Googling led him to a mix of society columns and blurry paparazzi shots; her stiff smiles in the former and her barely-veiled anger in the latter could not disguise the fact that Rebecca Welton (nee Mannion) was striking - tall, blonde, and gorgeous, even when evading photographers outside her divorce lawyer’s office.
The fact of her looks couldn’t matter to him, though, not then; Ted’s heart was still too tied up with Michelle and their disintegrating marriage to be really attracted to someone new. It would have been an admission of defeat to allow himself to be affected by Rebecca, and he was no quitter. So instead, even once they met, he allowed her beauty to be just a part of the litany of information that he filed away to understand his new situation: cars drive on the left, apartments are called flats, and his boss was no longer a potbellied former defensive lineman in a too-tight polo, but a beautiful green-eyed woman in dangerous stilettos. He noticed her, of course he did, but he didn’t notice her.
And once they became friends, well… She needed kindness, and support, not admiration, or at least not admiration of her body. Of her strength and her smarts, yes. Her bravery and her (sometimes hidden) kindness, of course. She needed someone to back her up and reassure her that Rupert was wrong and cruel, not another horndog who checked out her cleavage while making snide remarks about her ex’s new gal. (Yes, he saw that Ernie Lounds, you fucking creep.) He’d just liked her so much right from the start, even when she was secretly plotting against him, and he could tell that she needed someone gentle. He was, if he did say so himself, good at gentle.
So he accepted her beauty and put it to the side, like he did the sun’s. It was constant and sometimes overwhelming, so he learned to bask in its warmth and not to look directly at it.
Until fucking Laurent made him. And Beard and Roy acted like he was an idiot for not seeing it before, for not realizing how men would react to Rebecca. Now it was shining in his face and impossible to ignore and he felt like he wanted to jump out of his skin with the new knowledge that Rebecca, his boss and good friend, was not just beautiful, but desirable, sexy, and he was no skeeze like Laurent, but maybe he also wanted to…
Ted abruptly noticed that the oven had been beeping for some time, and scrambled to take the biscuits out before they burned. He hit his thumb on the hot pan, just enough to sting and chuckled a little at himself as he ran it under cold water. Look at him, getting all clumsy over a girl.
Huh. Looks like the Doc just may have had a point.