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rsadelleI was explaining that I have too many things I'm working on to be able to actually write the werewolf AU, and I remembered that this is one of the things that just needed a quick read-through and then posting. So here it is!
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers all the way through the end of season 3.
***
Steel In Her Tone
Tim and Jason kept in touch. They talked on the phone every couple of months, and Lyla browbeat them both into joining Facebook. Jason talked about work and told stories about Noah. Tim talked about football and trying to pass his classes, and sometimes about Lyla.
Thanksgiving was crazy now, with Mindy and Billy hosting. The Colettes came, with Tyra sometimes showing up alone, sometimes with Landry and his parents, and sometimes not showing up at all. Lyla came with Buddy; she went to California for a week at Christmas. Four-year-old Junior, two-year-old Ashlee, and six-month-old Joey added to the chaos.
Jason always called on Thanksgiving. He talked to Lyla first, for a little bit, and then she gave the phone to Tim, patted his chest, and kissed him. He took the phone outside where it was quiet and sat on one of the chairs around the pool that was filled and blue now.
"Hey, Six?" he said, interrupting Jason telling him about Noah and his hand turkey from daycare.
"Yeah," J said, and Tim knew he was listening.
"They're talking about me going pro." Tim leaned his elbows on his knees and looked into the pool.
"Who is?" Jason asked.
"The coaches, some of the other guys." Tim shrugged even though Street couldn't see him.
"There are some really good players who'll be in the draft this year," Jason said. "But I've been watching you. You've gotten better since high school, and you were good then. You're tough, and there are a couple of teams who need that. Get a good highlight reel going, and you could get yourself a pick in the draft."
"You really think so?" Tim asked.
"I really think so," Jason confirmed. And J would never lie to him, so. "What does Lyla say?"
Tim chuckled. "Lyla says I should do my homework." Then he asked, "I go pro, you gonna be my agent?" half a smile still on his face.
"Yeah," Jason said. "I'm your man."
Tim looked through the windows into the house, found Lyla holding Joey in one arm and handing things to Mindy with the other.
"Thinkin' about asking Lyla to marry me," Tim said, keeping that vision of her in front of him. They were okay now, but there was a time when J was going to marry Lyla. "She says yes, you gonna come be my best man?"
"Of course. Texas forever," Street said, and Tim could tell he was smiling just from his voice.
***
During holidays and summers, they stayed in Lyla's old room in her dad's condo. Her dad didn't like it, but Lyla told him the first time that they'd get a hotel otherwise, and he'd given in.
Tim had to go back on Friday for Saturday's game, but Thursday night, after the big family thing, he was still there to kick back on the couch with her. Her dad had gone to bed already, so it was just the two of them and a couple of bottles of beer.
"Street thinks I could go pro," Tim said. "Said he'd be my agent."
Lyla reached for the hand resting on the back of the couch and twined her fingers with his. "Of course he will be." There'd never been any question of that.
Tim brushed his thumb over her hand. "Said he'd be my best man too." He brought their hands up and his lips followed the path of her thumb. "You gonna marry me?"
Lyla let her lips curve up into a smile. No one had ever taught the Riggins boys what a marriage proposal was supposed to be. But it didn't matter. "Yes, Tim Riggins," she said, "I'm gonna marry you." She'd known that by the time Mindy and Billy got married, if not before.
"What if I get drafted by Green Bay or Detroit?" She could tell from his voice that he was worried about it.
"Then I'll buy a winter coat." Lyla turned over, so she was lying on him and smiling down at him. "You were right about Vanderbilt." God, was he right about that. "But it's been four years." She touched his cheek, fingers just brushing against his skin. "It's time for me to be where you are."
"I'll love you forever," Tim said, and Lyla kissed him slow and sweet, tasting the promise on his lips.
***
On Monday morning, Jason came into the meeting with stats he knew by heart and a hastily cut together highlight reel.
"Tim Riggins," he said, and hit play. He rattled off stats while they watched Tim block and plow through defensive lines.
"Seventh round draft pick," Steve Johnson said, "maybe."
"No," Jason said, shaking his head. "Tim Riggins is one of the best tailbacks out there. A better highlight reel, build some awareness, fourth round."
Steve leaned back. "Fourth round?"
"Fourth round." Jason knew he had them on the hook. "And we're going to get him there."
"You sure he's going to sign with us?" Jerry was always more skeptical.
"Tim Riggins isn't going to sign with anyone but me," Jason said.
***
One of the things about being Coach Taylor and helping to guide a bunch of football players from boys to men is that he and Tami got a lot of invitations to weddings, christenings, and graduations. The reception for Tim and Lyla's wedding was as lavish an affair as Buddy Garrity had ever thrown, tempered by Lyla's clear sense of style.
Eric was getting himself a beer at the open bar when Tim's voice came from behind him. "Hey, Coach."
Eric turned and smiled. "Well, hey there, Tim. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Coach." Tim held his hand out for a handshake.
"Come here, son." Eric pulled him in for a hug. "We're real proud of you." He patted Tim's back a couple of times. "Real proud."
"Thank you, sir." Tim looked happier than Eric had ever seen him. "I hope I'll be able to keep making you proud." He looked down at the floor, his hair falling into his face, and then he looked up again and said, "Sir, you and Mrs. T have a really good marriage."
"Well, yes," Eric said, "I suppose that we do." With Tim Riggins, there was no telling where this could be going.
"Well, sir, it's like this. My dad left and then my mom left and Lyla's parents are divorced." Tim reached for a bottle of beer from the bar. "We don't have a lot of good examples." He took a deep drink from the bottle. "Sir, what do you think makes a good marriage?"
Well, hell. He thought he might have to have this discussion with Julie someday, but not with his football players. "Well," Eric said, looking across the room at Tami, "the most important thing is that you love your wife. Above all else, you love your wife."
"I do," Tim said, and when Eric followed his gaze, he saw that Tim was looking at Lyla.
"After that, you need to remember that a marriage is a partnership." Eric smiled across the room at Tami, waited for her to smile back, and then turned back to Tim. "You remember that, and you'll do all right."
Tim smiled at Eric, and then looked at Lyla again and smiled wider. "Thank you, sir." He reached out and put his beer bottle down on the bar. "Thank you."
Eric patted his arm. "You're welcome, son." He nodded at Lyla. "Now you go dance with your wife."
"Yes, sir." Tim grinned, and Eric watched him head toward his wife, even more determined to get through the crowd than he was on the field.
He was still there, standing at the bar watching Tim and Lyla, when Tami found him. "Hey, hon. Were you talking to Tim?"
Eric put his arm around his wife. "Yes, I was." He looked at her and reminded himself how lucky he was to have her. "He asked me what makes for a successful marriage."
Tami sighed a little. "Lyla asked me something like that at the shower." She leaned her chin on Eric's shoulder. "I hope this works out for those two. They're good kids."
Eric put down his beer and wrapped that arm around Tami too. "They'll be fine. They're damn good kids." He turned her to look at the dance floor. "Just look at them."
"Yeah." Tami leaned her head against his shoulder briefly, and then took his hand. "Come on. Let's dance."
***
The new girl was really new. Gossip was she had a degree from Vanderbilt, but if Polly hadn't known that, she would have guessed the girl was barely out of high school.
The thing was, Polly'd been doing this for five years, and she'd seen a lot of players and their wives and girlfriends come and go in that time, and she figured this one wouldn't last long.
"You're Tim Riggins' wife?" one of the blondes, Kari, Polly thought, said.
"Yes, I am," the new girl answered. "Lyla." She was polite, Polly would give her that. But she was also a sweet little small-town Texas girl. She was going to get eaten alive.
"Well, Lyla," one of the other blondes, this one with some kind of J name like Jenny or Jessica or possibly even Juicy, said, "you're a lucky woman. That Tim." She pursed her lips together in a low whistle. "He's something else."
"Yes, he is," Lyla said, seemingly unperturbed. Polly started to wonder if she was stupid too.
"You might want to be careful," and Polly knew that this one was named Betty. "Man like that, you could have some competition."
"I've known Tim Riggins most of my life," Lyla said. "I know him well enough to marry him." She held up her left hand where a plain gold band nestled against a thinner band with a small diamond set into it. "And I can tell you, he will never cheat on me." There was a smile on the girl's face, but there was some real steel in her tone. "And I'd hate to be the woman who tried to get him to."
That sounded like Polly's cue. "Excuse me," she said, breaking into the circle of blondes and Lyla. "I don't think we've had a chance to meet yet. I'm Polly Clairmont." She tucked her arm through Lyla's. "Let me get you a drink."
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers all the way through the end of season 3.
***
Steel In Her Tone
Tim and Jason kept in touch. They talked on the phone every couple of months, and Lyla browbeat them both into joining Facebook. Jason talked about work and told stories about Noah. Tim talked about football and trying to pass his classes, and sometimes about Lyla.
Thanksgiving was crazy now, with Mindy and Billy hosting. The Colettes came, with Tyra sometimes showing up alone, sometimes with Landry and his parents, and sometimes not showing up at all. Lyla came with Buddy; she went to California for a week at Christmas. Four-year-old Junior, two-year-old Ashlee, and six-month-old Joey added to the chaos.
Jason always called on Thanksgiving. He talked to Lyla first, for a little bit, and then she gave the phone to Tim, patted his chest, and kissed him. He took the phone outside where it was quiet and sat on one of the chairs around the pool that was filled and blue now.
"Hey, Six?" he said, interrupting Jason telling him about Noah and his hand turkey from daycare.
"Yeah," J said, and Tim knew he was listening.
"They're talking about me going pro." Tim leaned his elbows on his knees and looked into the pool.
"Who is?" Jason asked.
"The coaches, some of the other guys." Tim shrugged even though Street couldn't see him.
"There are some really good players who'll be in the draft this year," Jason said. "But I've been watching you. You've gotten better since high school, and you were good then. You're tough, and there are a couple of teams who need that. Get a good highlight reel going, and you could get yourself a pick in the draft."
"You really think so?" Tim asked.
"I really think so," Jason confirmed. And J would never lie to him, so. "What does Lyla say?"
Tim chuckled. "Lyla says I should do my homework." Then he asked, "I go pro, you gonna be my agent?" half a smile still on his face.
"Yeah," Jason said. "I'm your man."
Tim looked through the windows into the house, found Lyla holding Joey in one arm and handing things to Mindy with the other.
"Thinkin' about asking Lyla to marry me," Tim said, keeping that vision of her in front of him. They were okay now, but there was a time when J was going to marry Lyla. "She says yes, you gonna come be my best man?"
"Of course. Texas forever," Street said, and Tim could tell he was smiling just from his voice.
***
During holidays and summers, they stayed in Lyla's old room in her dad's condo. Her dad didn't like it, but Lyla told him the first time that they'd get a hotel otherwise, and he'd given in.
Tim had to go back on Friday for Saturday's game, but Thursday night, after the big family thing, he was still there to kick back on the couch with her. Her dad had gone to bed already, so it was just the two of them and a couple of bottles of beer.
"Street thinks I could go pro," Tim said. "Said he'd be my agent."
Lyla reached for the hand resting on the back of the couch and twined her fingers with his. "Of course he will be." There'd never been any question of that.
Tim brushed his thumb over her hand. "Said he'd be my best man too." He brought their hands up and his lips followed the path of her thumb. "You gonna marry me?"
Lyla let her lips curve up into a smile. No one had ever taught the Riggins boys what a marriage proposal was supposed to be. But it didn't matter. "Yes, Tim Riggins," she said, "I'm gonna marry you." She'd known that by the time Mindy and Billy got married, if not before.
"What if I get drafted by Green Bay or Detroit?" She could tell from his voice that he was worried about it.
"Then I'll buy a winter coat." Lyla turned over, so she was lying on him and smiling down at him. "You were right about Vanderbilt." God, was he right about that. "But it's been four years." She touched his cheek, fingers just brushing against his skin. "It's time for me to be where you are."
"I'll love you forever," Tim said, and Lyla kissed him slow and sweet, tasting the promise on his lips.
***
On Monday morning, Jason came into the meeting with stats he knew by heart and a hastily cut together highlight reel.
"Tim Riggins," he said, and hit play. He rattled off stats while they watched Tim block and plow through defensive lines.
"Seventh round draft pick," Steve Johnson said, "maybe."
"No," Jason said, shaking his head. "Tim Riggins is one of the best tailbacks out there. A better highlight reel, build some awareness, fourth round."
Steve leaned back. "Fourth round?"
"Fourth round." Jason knew he had them on the hook. "And we're going to get him there."
"You sure he's going to sign with us?" Jerry was always more skeptical.
"Tim Riggins isn't going to sign with anyone but me," Jason said.
***
One of the things about being Coach Taylor and helping to guide a bunch of football players from boys to men is that he and Tami got a lot of invitations to weddings, christenings, and graduations. The reception for Tim and Lyla's wedding was as lavish an affair as Buddy Garrity had ever thrown, tempered by Lyla's clear sense of style.
Eric was getting himself a beer at the open bar when Tim's voice came from behind him. "Hey, Coach."
Eric turned and smiled. "Well, hey there, Tim. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Coach." Tim held his hand out for a handshake.
"Come here, son." Eric pulled him in for a hug. "We're real proud of you." He patted Tim's back a couple of times. "Real proud."
"Thank you, sir." Tim looked happier than Eric had ever seen him. "I hope I'll be able to keep making you proud." He looked down at the floor, his hair falling into his face, and then he looked up again and said, "Sir, you and Mrs. T have a really good marriage."
"Well, yes," Eric said, "I suppose that we do." With Tim Riggins, there was no telling where this could be going.
"Well, sir, it's like this. My dad left and then my mom left and Lyla's parents are divorced." Tim reached for a bottle of beer from the bar. "We don't have a lot of good examples." He took a deep drink from the bottle. "Sir, what do you think makes a good marriage?"
Well, hell. He thought he might have to have this discussion with Julie someday, but not with his football players. "Well," Eric said, looking across the room at Tami, "the most important thing is that you love your wife. Above all else, you love your wife."
"I do," Tim said, and when Eric followed his gaze, he saw that Tim was looking at Lyla.
"After that, you need to remember that a marriage is a partnership." Eric smiled across the room at Tami, waited for her to smile back, and then turned back to Tim. "You remember that, and you'll do all right."
Tim smiled at Eric, and then looked at Lyla again and smiled wider. "Thank you, sir." He reached out and put his beer bottle down on the bar. "Thank you."
Eric patted his arm. "You're welcome, son." He nodded at Lyla. "Now you go dance with your wife."
"Yes, sir." Tim grinned, and Eric watched him head toward his wife, even more determined to get through the crowd than he was on the field.
He was still there, standing at the bar watching Tim and Lyla, when Tami found him. "Hey, hon. Were you talking to Tim?"
Eric put his arm around his wife. "Yes, I was." He looked at her and reminded himself how lucky he was to have her. "He asked me what makes for a successful marriage."
Tami sighed a little. "Lyla asked me something like that at the shower." She leaned her chin on Eric's shoulder. "I hope this works out for those two. They're good kids."
Eric put down his beer and wrapped that arm around Tami too. "They'll be fine. They're damn good kids." He turned her to look at the dance floor. "Just look at them."
"Yeah." Tami leaned her head against his shoulder briefly, and then took his hand. "Come on. Let's dance."
***
The new girl was really new. Gossip was she had a degree from Vanderbilt, but if Polly hadn't known that, she would have guessed the girl was barely out of high school.
The thing was, Polly'd been doing this for five years, and she'd seen a lot of players and their wives and girlfriends come and go in that time, and she figured this one wouldn't last long.
"You're Tim Riggins' wife?" one of the blondes, Kari, Polly thought, said.
"Yes, I am," the new girl answered. "Lyla." She was polite, Polly would give her that. But she was also a sweet little small-town Texas girl. She was going to get eaten alive.
"Well, Lyla," one of the other blondes, this one with some kind of J name like Jenny or Jessica or possibly even Juicy, said, "you're a lucky woman. That Tim." She pursed her lips together in a low whistle. "He's something else."
"Yes, he is," Lyla said, seemingly unperturbed. Polly started to wonder if she was stupid too.
"You might want to be careful," and Polly knew that this one was named Betty. "Man like that, you could have some competition."
"I've known Tim Riggins most of my life," Lyla said. "I know him well enough to marry him." She held up her left hand where a plain gold band nestled against a thinner band with a small diamond set into it. "And I can tell you, he will never cheat on me." There was a smile on the girl's face, but there was some real steel in her tone. "And I'd hate to be the woman who tried to get him to."
That sounded like Polly's cue. "Excuse me," she said, breaking into the circle of blondes and Lyla. "I don't think we've had a chance to meet yet. I'm Polly Clairmont." She tucked her arm through Lyla's. "Let me get you a drink."