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English
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Published:
2019-10-13
Updated:
2022-01-08
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111,665
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15/?
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How It Goes

Summary:

A set of loosely intertwining stories. Main focus will be on Beth Mead, Nahikari Garcia, Ada Hegerberg, Dzsenifer Marozsan, and Lindsey Horan. Timelines are loose and are being bent to meld together. Will add additional pairings and characters as they stroll into the stories.

A note on the tags: Abuse (verbal, emotional, and physical), both past and present, is implied and described. There will not be graphic depictions of violence, but there are depictions of violence. Rape is threatened, but does not occur. Two characters do struggle with internalized homophobia.

Updates will be sporadic.

Notes:

Takes place shortly after Beth has transferred to Arsenal. My knowledge of the roster at the time is fuzzy, so I'm borrowing the lineup from the current team and pieces I've come across through some searching. Details on the timeline, the roster, and main events of the time are appreciated in the comments.

Chapter 1: Beth Mead and Danielle Van De Donk 1

Chapter Text

Beth liked to think she was a smart girl. You know, someone who thought before they spoke and approached difficult situations with a sense of calm and level head. Yet, here Beth was, voice echoing over the crowd and the referee’s whistle, her shout of outrage almost drowning out the rushing of blood in her ears. She had one fist wrapped in her teammate’s shirt, the other gesturing frantically at the field before them. Okay, so, sue her, not the best or brightest moment of her career, but everyone got a little frustrated sometimes. Though, not everyone let their frustration drive them into picking a fight with an alpha in rut.

She had stepped so close to Daan that their noses were almost touching. The deep, dark ring of red surrounding her pupils should have had every alarm bell in Beth’s head screaming, but she was currently yelling so loud she was drowning them out.

“What the FUCK was that?!”

Daan didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe. Beth knew she was being irrational, but the ball had fallen to Daan’s feet like a birthday gift wrapped in the biggest, gaudiest bow the store had to offer and she had just handed it back. No. Not handed. Drop kicked it back into the store so hard the bow had torn free and shredded into a billion pieces.

The space up and to the left of Beth on the right side of the field had been open, and she was rushing to fill it while signaling to Daan to pass, please, pass. Daan had picked her head up, made eye contact with her, and then, for some unknown reason, stupidly played the ball up and over the top, where it promptly was headed away and fell to the feet of an opposing player. That player had then made a run, a sensible pass to her forward, and now the ball was being collected from the back of Arsenal’s net. All because Daan had fucked up the play.

“Back off.” Daan’s icy calm voice was doing wonders fueling the unbridled rage and frustration bubbling up inside Beth.

Despite the do-not-go-there-or-fuck-with-me scent pouring off her teammate, Beth just had to go there. “Not until you explain why the FUCK you didn’t think to PASS THE BALL!”

Looking back, the lack of growling or even a low snarl should have made her pause. Beth knew a lot of alphas. It was hard not to when you were a professional athlete. Plus, she was a beta, so she was almost always being dragged into uncomfortable situations to break up some petty fight. Most of the alphas Beth new were loud in the sense that they never stopped growling or snarling over ever little injustice or perceived threat to their dominance. Put that alpha in rut and suddenly they couldn’t shut up, everything was a cause for a challenge, everything deserved a warning, a growl, a snarl, a flash of teeth and tightening of fists. The fact that Daan had yet to make a sound beyond her calm threat was a warning in of itself, but Beth was too far gone to listen.

Suddenly, the fist that had been wrapped in the front of Daan’s jersey was pinwheeling through the air as Beth desperately tried to catch her balance as she went tumbling backwards. Oh. That’s it. Beth was going to kill Danielle Van De Donk here and now, teammates be damned.

Luckily, Katie caught her and held her back from doing something even more dumb than the fight she had just picked.

“The fuck is the matter with both of you?!” Katie’s shout had the rest of the team converging on them, even the ref was trotting over to tell them to get on with the game.

Viv said something in Dutch, and Daan spun on her boot heel and stalked away. The tension was making her small frame almost vibrate, her shoulders pulled so tight that Beth was sure she’d be sore the next morning. Good.

Katie shook her shoulder hard and retook her position. The rest of the team gave her a mixed bag of looks and scattered. Leah jogged past her, a smirk fixed firmly on her face.

“DVD and Beth, sitting in a tree,” Leah’s sing song voice made Beth want to pummel her. She settled for flipping her off.

The rest of the game went downhill from there. It was choppy, downright ugly. Everyone was on edge, and as much as Beth wanted to blame the stupid play Daan had made, she knew it was her outburst that had caused this 180 in their team’s chemistry. The other team could smell the blood in the water, and Daan’s lack of freak out over the earlier fight had given the opposing players a newfound confidence when they stepped into her space to strip the ball. To make matters worse, Daan seemed incapable of getting only ball in all her tackles and plays. It was clear she wasn’t focused, the tension in her body was a dead give away, plus the pure fury rolling off her in waves was cutting through every other scent in the stadium.

Before Daan could pick up a second yellow card (some rookie had been dumb enough to try and wrestle the ball away a few minutes ago, it hadn’t ended well for the girl), coach was subbing her off. The already lost game continued to slip away from them without Daan in the midfield. Hell, even a distracted and pissed off Daan was better than no Daan.

Guilt and shame sat low and hot in Beth’s belly. God, why couldn’t she have just kept her mouth shut?

Beth could feel the frigid weight of Daan’s gaze tracking her through the rest of the game. She was dreading trudging back to the locker room after final whistle, let alone going home with the furious alpha.

Yep, Beth liked to think she was a smart girl, but in reality, she was just a big mouthed idiot.

———

Coach had chewed them all out after the game, but he saved a few precious moments to highlight just how disappointed he was in her and Daan. Fan-fucking-tastic. More fuel to the fire she had already stoked. The bus ride back to the stadium was quiet. She purposely chose a seat as far from Daan and the other Dutchies as possible, but the distance couldn’t mask Daan’s scent.

She wasn’t just furious, she was next level MAD. The other alphas on the bus were doing their best to establish some equilibrium with their own pheromones, but there was little ground to be gained. Someone, Jordan maybe, whined, and that’s when Kim started in on them about needing to get their heads out of their asses.

Needless to say, when they got to the stadium, Daan was the first one off the bus. Kim didn’t even bother to hold her back for a word, there would be no rationalizing with her at this point. Daan’s scent was crystal clear, BACK-OFF-BACK-OFF-BACK-OFF-unless-you-want-me-rip-your-throat-out. Beth felt lightheaded the closer she got to the midfielder’s seat as she trudged off the bus. Fuck. She was so fucked. Her housemates were going to kill her if Daan didn’t get to her first.

Poor Jordan and the other omegas were agitated, and Beth’s stomach dropped down to her toes. Christ, why was she such an ass tonight?

Kim pulled her aside as Dom and Daan’s car peeled out of the lot. The other girls started heading out as well, and Beth honestly wouldn’t hold it against Carla if she left her to walk home. But, bless her and Anna as they waited by the car, not so subtly trying to eavesdrop on the second chew out she was going to get of the night.

Kim ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Dammit, Beth.”

Beth nodded in agreement and scuffed her toe along the asphalt of the stadium’s parking lot.

“What has gotten into you and DVD?” Kim shook her head. “Or, should I say, between you two?”

Great question. The season was a month in, and while Beth’s first few weeks had gone well, much better than she expected, considering the new team and all, the last few days were unraveling everything she had seemingly established. She wracked her brain for a trigger, a crack or quake that had set her foundation with Arsenal rolling. Training was going well, she wasn’t injured, she liked her housemates, the games, with the exception of tonight, had been good, great even. Yet, here she was trying to explain to her captain why she picked a fight with not only her teammate, but her housemate.

“I don’t know.” It was true, honestly, Beth couldn’t pinpoint when everything had gone bottoms up.

Kim regarded her carefully. “Did Daan say or do something to you?”

Beth felt like she had been slapped. Daan, Danielle Van De Donk, hurt her? Okay, yeah sure, she was an alpha, a very dominant one at that, but she was also an absolute goof. She liked card games and pushing people’s buttons, pranks, and flirting with anything that had a pulse. Scary movies freaked her out so bad she made Dom sleep with their lights on in their room for a whole week. Sure, she never did her dishes, but she would fold and stack your laundry for you if you forgot it in the dryer. Most of her fiery attitude she saved for the field, or training when they were skirmishing.

Daan rarely raised her voice and never spoke with her fists. She avoided making you submit to her or her opinions like the mushrooms on pizza. As far as alphas went, Dean was pretty great.

“Christ Kim, no.” Beth couldn’t help but feel a bit aggravated. “How could you even think that?”

Kim gave her a long, tired look. “I know you don’t need to hear the ‘alphas can be dangerous’ speech, but here is me telling you anyways.”

She held up a hand as Beth opened her mouth to argue that Daan wouldn’t hurt her, or any of their teammates. Opposing rookies who get too big for their britches, sure, a danger, but Arsenal? Never.

“Don’t, just listen please. I love Daan as much as I hate the English,” Kim gave her a wink and Beth stuck her tongue out at her, “but she’s got a temper, and one hell of a short fuse. Please don’t put yourself in a situation where she’s worked up and backed into a corner. Everyone lashes out, especially alphas in rut. Don’t pick a fight with her Beth, preferably never, but especially not this week.”

Beth sighed and met Kim’s eyes. She nodded and mouthed an apology. For the game, and for the outburst that had made them lose.

Kim rolled her eyes and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Stop being an ass, your little row with Daan isn’t the only reason why we lost the game. We were playing like shit long before you tried to beat some sense into her.”

The laugh startled her, and picked Beth’s stomach up from her toes. Kim gave her a good natured shove toward Carla and Anna and wished her a good night.

Blessedly, Carla and Anna talked about everything and anything but the game and Daan. When they got home, Dom was heating up the meal they had all prepped the night before. They set about pulling plates and silverware out, and settled into their usual spots on the couch and chairs scattered in their living room. Everyone studiously ignored Daan’s furious scent, and Beth had to thank whatever powers there were that they were all betas with the exception of Daan. An omega would have been crawling out of her skin.

Daan didn’t make an appearance at dinner, nor did she come down as they were washing up and putting everything away. The fact that she was hiding in her room pissed Beth off a little, but she tried to let it roll off her back like water.

“Should I bring a plate up and say I’m sorry over my peace offering?” Beth gestured to the extra food and then pointed at the ceiling.

Dom fixed her with a glare and Beth did her best to smooth her face into a neutral expression. Continuing to bicker about the results of tonight wouldn’t get them anywhere.

“No, Daan doesn’t have an appetite, I asked if she wanted a plate earlier.”

“All things considered, is she alright? She’s not sick is she?” Anna glanced over at the stairs as she spoke, keeping her voice down so it didn’t travel.

Dom sighed, “Yes and no. She’s just in rut, its always messed with her appetite.”

Great. If Beth hadn’t felt like an ass before, she sure felt like one now. Way to be a good teammate Beth, she thought. Pick a fight with the poor girl while she’s feeling like shit and has barely eaten anything.

“Well,” Beth moved away from leaning against the counter, “I better woman up and go apologize.”

Carla and Anna gave her a look that screamed, no shit asshat, and left the kitchen to go fight over the remote in the living room. Dom followed and threw some quick advice over her shoulder.

“Knock before you barge in there, I don’t want you to lose your head.”

Beth just barely bit back a nasty retort. Sure, she was an idiot for picking a fight with Daan tonight, especially considering Daan was in rut, but she wasn’t a hopeless moron. She’s dated, played with, and simply existed around enough alphas to know the basic etiquette that won’t get her hurt.

———

She’s not going to lie, she almost chicken out at the top of the stairs and went into her room instead of crossing the short hall to Daan and Dom’s closed door. The deep breath she took did nothing to steady her nerves, and Kim’s advice from earlier played in her head. Don’t back her into a corner and pick a fight with her. She’s got a short fuse and one hell of a temper. She could hurt you if she lashes out. Daan’s scent was making her head spin, and warping the sound of Kim’s remembered advice. Good lord, were her knees shaking?

Beth, you’re a class A idiot, she thought as she stared down Daan and Dom’s door. For the love of all things, she begged herself, don’t mount a challenge against her in her den. Just knock, pop your head in, and say you’re sorry. Nice and easy.

The sound of her knock seemed to echo inside the house, which suddenly held its breath and watched their second confrontation of the night go down. Daan muttered something in Dutch, and Beth waited a heartbeat or two before she cracked the door open and peaked in, just in case Daan had told her to “fuck off” and not “come in.” It was always a hit or miss with Dutch.

The room was lit by Dom’s desk lamp, which had a shirt thrown over it to smother the brightness. It gave everything a gloomy hue, a perfect match to the dark mood they were all in after the loss. Daan had been laying on her bed, one knee bent and a hand thrown behind her head, phone sitting on her chest as she idly thumbed through some social media site, probably Instagram.

She sat bolt upright when Beth eased the door open and took a tentative step inside. Beth froze, one hand clutching the doorknob and the other braced against the doorframe. Daan had let her phone drop and had one leg hanging off the bed, foot on the ground, posed to jump up and close the feet between them.

“Beth! Don’t ever barge into an alpha’s den like that!” Her father’s voice bounces off the walls of their home, sending her fleeing back the way she had come. She was young, five, maybe six, and she had skipped right past the closed door and into her parent’s bedroom, excited to tell her Dad about the frog she had found in the garden.

Beth knows now her Dad wasn’t mad, but worried. She was at an age where she needed to learn how to behave around alphas. Sure, she hadn’t presented yet and was still a pup, but she was a girl and that fact alone made her a target. She needed to learn that not everyone was safe, not everyone was Pack and would let her get away with things.

Shit, Daan’s muttered Dutch comment had been “fuck off.” Shit. Shit. Shit.

Daan gave a violent shake of her head as Beth’s brain demanded she back away and close the door, though her feet refused to comply. The agitated alpha ran her hands through her hair, and crossed her legs on top of the bed. Beth stood riveted to the doorway, one foot in the room as she watched Daan force herself to relax. The midfielder was somewhat successful, though her body was still strung as tight as a bowstring.

“Sorry, I-” Dean steadied her voice from the snarl it was quickly becoming, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Wait, what?

Beth stared at the alpha dumbfounded. She was the one who had startled the other girl.

Daan stared intently at her, and Beth, continuing with the theme of the day, stupidly matched that stare. Christ, she was really asking to get her ass handed to her today wasn’t she?

What had Kim said? Don’t back Daan into a corner, work her up, and then pick a fight with her. Well, here she was, entering Daan’s den after she had been told to go away, startling the alpha in her bed which was backed into a corner of the room, oh, the irony, and now she was staring the girl in rut down. Talk about a challenge.

Beth ripped her gaze away and focused on a spot over Daan’s shoulder. It would have been better if she lowered her gaze to the floor, but that was the smart thing to do and today was not the day of smart choices.

“Daan,” She flicked her eyes to the other woman and then settled them back on the wall, “I just wanted to apologize for being a shit teammate tonight.”

The bed shifted, and Beth glanced back at Daan. Even though she couldn’t see them clearly through the muted lighting, Beth knew just how startling the rim of red, more like burgundy she thought belatedly, around Daan’s pupils was against the deep dark brown of her eyes. She had filed that fun fact away during the game, too caught up in picking a fight. Daan had scooted back on her bed up to the headboard pressed against the wall. She didn’t recline against it, she was far too tense for reclining, but Beth could have sworn she was going for an air of relaxed detachment.

“You can come in.”

She eased the door all the way open, best to have a quick means of exit just in case, and took another tentative step into the room. No teeth flashed in her direction and beyond the scent making her knees shake ever so slightly, there was no growl or snarl bubbling up from Daan’s chest. Off to a rough start, but so far, so good.

“Listen,” Daan arched an eyebrow at her, and Beth forced her gaze away again, “I was out of line and shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

Now it was Beth’s turn to run an agitated hand through her hair. “Or, you know, grabbed your jersey and stepped into your space. I was frustrated about the game, and the play,” shit, wrong move, she chanced a glance at Daan’s face to see if she had fucked up again but the other women was still, body still humming with tension, eyes locked onto her, “and the game as a whole really. It wasn’t right of me to take it out on you.”

The comforter on the bed rustled as Daan fidgeted again. “Beth.” She made eye contact with the other woman and held it.

“You don’t have to keep roving your eyes about the room.” At the blush she could feel heating her cheeks Daan flashed her classic, flirty smile, “I might be a bit of a hot head but I’m not going to launch myself at you, though, I’m sure you’re used to pretty girls throwing themselves at you.”

Beth snorted and turned to leave the room. Too late, she realized she had turned her back on the alpha without making some nonaggressive move to indicate she was leaving. All this rushed through her head as the bed creaked and two swift footsteps brushed against the carpet.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” Beth’s first boyfriend, a gangly teen alpha no older than 14, grabbed her upper arm and spun her around.

They were fighting about something, they were always fighting, at least, when they weren’t busy making out. She had just laid down some epic insult and was about to storm away. Big mistake. He jerked her into his space, crowded her up against the wall and continued the argument. His screaming mouth was so close to her face, she had to tip her head to the side, a forced show of submission.

Fingers brushed against her elbow, feather light. She whirled, eyes wide, apology ready, hand up, and Dean took the same two quick steps back.

“Whoa, easy.” Daan took another step away from her, bumped into the end of her bed and stumbled to the side and back. “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep startling you.”

Beth took a deep breath to settle her nerves and had to bite back the whine climbing up her throat as Daan’s scent hit her tongue. Fuck. She had a thing for confidence, to a degree, and everything about Daan screamed assured and in control. That was on a normal day. Daan in rut? Holy hell, that was a whole new level of confident. Like, straight past cocky, around the corner and she didn’t know, into some new realm of self-assuredness.

Daan’s dark hair was tousled, her face in shadow. She was sweating through her shirt, her collar dark and waves of heat rolling off her. Her scent demanded, look at me, LOOK at me, and Beth did.

The Dutch woman looked absolutely wrecked and absolutely gorgeous all at the same time. How was that possible?

Beth swallowed and started to apologize for her flighty reaction, but Daan narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, no, don’t apologize.”

Beth snapped her mouth shut.

“My turn to do that.” Daan ruffled her hair again and looked away from her, almost sheepish. “I know I’m a lot when I’m…” She swore in Dutch, and clenched her jaw. “I know I’m in everyone’s face right now.”

Hesitantly, Beth took a slow step forward. Daan snapped her eyes back to her, the message clear, you stay right there. Beth froze, and Daan gave her a slow, careful smile.

“I just wanted to apologize for shoving you at the game before you left.” Daan’s small smile melted away, a very serious expression taking its place. “I shouldn’t have put my hands on you.”

Beth shifted her weight and cleared her throat, trying to break the tension. “Dom said you turned down the dinner we prepped last night.” Daan cocked her head at her. “I can make you something else if you want, you should really eat something.”

Of everyone in the house, Beth was arguably the best cook, and that wasn’t saying too much.

Daan made a quiet sound, deep in her chest. A laugh, maybe? Or, perhaps she was ticked off and growling at her because Beth was somehow insinuating she was weak and needed to be taken care of. It was hard to tell with Daan, she didn’t give a lot of warning growls when she was upset, she just kind of caught, like a dry piece of kindling.

“Thanks, Beff,” the mispronunciation of her name and slight Dutch accent bleeding through Daan’s words made Beth smile, “but I’m all set.”

Beth nodded. “Okay, well, night then.” She was careful to take a step back this time, and then turn to walk away.

Feet dragged against the carpet, and Daan slowly approached her from the side, ensuring Beth could see her coming in her periphery. She was doing her best to move slow and make a lot of noise, trying to do everything to make it clear she was moving closer. Beth glanced at her, and Daan reached out and squeezed her fingers.

She said something in Dutch, and smiled at Beth’s furrowed brow. “Means goodnight,” Daan whispered as she stepped away and went back to her bed.

Beth flashed her one more smile before she closed the door and headed to her own room.

What she told Kim earlier in the night was a lie. She knew what had changed, what had turned everything upside down. But, Beth wasn’t ready to admit that just yet to herself, let alone her captain.

Chapter 2: Nahikari and Virginia 1

Summary:

Using the current national team roster for their story line, which is quickly becoming my favorite. Will do my best to switch between players chapter to chapter, but no promises. Not super familiar with Real Sociedad's roster and would appreciate any names of current players and some fun facts about them.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They were on a breakaway. Jenni had the ball at her feet, courtesy of a downright brilliant pass by Alexia. Their pace was blistering, and Nahikari couldn’t help the grin that broke across her face when she saw the look of panic on the opposing defensive player. The opposing defensive line was scrambling to get back, to take up positions and step into space before everything unraveled, but it already had.

Jenni launched the ball and Nahikari put on an extra burst of speed to meet it. The ball landed at her feet, she took one touch to settle it, and just as her second touch sent it forward, something solid and sharp took out her legs.

Well, that’s going to be a card, she thought absentmindedly as she and whatever idiot defender had decided to try to kill her went sprawling across the pitch. She hit the ground hard, all her forward momentum redirected into eating pitch. Pain flared through her shoulder as she landed on it, and it warred with her screaming shin which she was sure the defender’s cleats were lodged in.

It took her a second to shake the hit, but when she did, the roar of the crowd was being drowned out by her teammates. Alexia was in the ref’s face, Jenni right next to her trying to speak to the ref and keep her girlfriend from getting a card herself.

“Hey kid,” Mapi put a hand on her chest and gently directed her to lay back down, “that was a hell of a hit, stay down for a second.”

Everyone had converged on them and the ref. The training staff were out but Nahikari was waving them away, insisting she was fine in between gulps of water. Mapi had removed her hand from her chest when the trainer sat her up, and was now squaring up with some idiot from the other team that was insisting Nahikari was exaggerating the hit.

The trainers pulled her to her feet, and she bit back the whine that threatened to escape when the field rolled beneath her. Shit. That had been one hell of a hit.

Nahikari flashed the trainers a smile, tugged Mapi away from the shithead defender by the back of her jersey, and gave Jenni a nod as she walked off to the sideline. As she made her way to the third official with the trainers so she could come back on, one of the opposing team’s players cut in front of her.

The woman made eye contact with her, and Nahikari noticed the red rim around her eyes just as the scent of an alpha in rut hit her harder than the defender had. She stumbled, and one of the trainer’s grabbed her arm to steady her. The alpha maintained eye contact as she jogged backwards to her position.

Oh, so that’s how this game was going to go. Okay then.

A few minutes after re-entering the game, she was smashing an absolute screamer to the top right hand corner of the goal. The keeper wasn’t even close to saving it. Jenni reached her first, then Virginia, and then Alexia was slamming into them. Patri grabbed her face, turned her to place a kiss on her cheek and she caught a glimpse of Mapi’s hair as she leaped into the huddle.

“NAAAAHIIIII!”

“There you go kid!”

She laughed, accepted all the kisses, forehead presses, and slaps on the back. The opposing keeper was howling something at her back line, and Nahikari couldn’t help but share a grin with Virginia at how outraged the woman sounded.

Blood in the water.

There was some give and go after that. The alpha that had stared her down earlier was a defender, and made a point of never leaving her space when Nahikari was in their defensive third. She was bullish, a touch too slow, and her hands were everywhere. The scent of her rut was almost worse than her poor defending. It made the already hot and humid air stifling, and her lungs felt like they were taking on water every time she drew a ragged breath in her vicinity. Talk about dirty tactics. Nahikari wanted nothing more than to punch her squarely in the jaw, but she settled for dancing the ball past her.

She laid off a pass to Virginia that got intercepted and swore as the ball started to make its way down to the wrong end of the field. At least she was able to disengage from the ox of a defender and clear her lungs as she fell back to defend.

Suddenly, a sharp shoulder was being driven into her back and she went sprawling. No whistle cut through the fury buzzing through her limbs. She knelt where she had been shoved, gesturing at herself and the pitch, which she was becoming intimately familiar with.

“How the FUCK was that not a card let alone a foul?!” The ref didn’t speak Spanish, but she didn’t care, she was too upset to find the words in English.

The player that had pushed her stepped aggressively into her space, and Nahikari bolted to her feet. Another alpha, this one taller than the defender she had been dealing with all night. Nahikari went toe to toe with her and even forced her back a step. She couldn’t help the condescending smile when the other women snarled at her boldness.

“Honey I dare you.” She followed it up with an unimpressed once over that the Alpha appreciated even less than the smile.

Furious pheromones hit her, but she refused to back away and made a point of smashing shoulders with the girl as she trotted away from the quickly approaching ref.

“Yeah, yeah,” she shouted at the ref over the crowd, “I’ll behave once you start calling their shit tackles.”

Virginia clapped a hand on her shoulder and flashed her an easy grin. “You’re just making all the friends tonight.”

Nahikari laughed and butted her head against the taller women’s shoulder. “You know me, always the flirt.”

Virginia laughed and pushed her good-naturedly away. The game resumed and Mapi made a sweet tackle, all ball, the other team should take notes, and Irene got the ball to Alexia’s feet. Nahikari loved this part, well, she loved a lot of things about soccer, but the race to the third while Alexia handled the ball, was a thrill.

Unfortunately, it seemed the other team had singled her out, and she couldn’t get anywhere with at least one opposing player nipping at her heels. She tried to ditch her shadows, but the second she left one behind, another appeared. Each one was doing their best to push her around and irritate her. An elbow here, a hand in her jersey there, pheromones everywhere. She felt like a pinball, ricocheting off paddles and bumpers.

Coach was beseeching the sideline ref to no avail, and now the bench was howling out every time she took an elbow or was pulled off balance by a hand wrapped in her shirt.

It would be too easy to give in and foul one of them. That was their ultimate goal, to push her buttons until she snapped, or perhaps they were dumb enough to think the physicality would deter her. Nahikari dutifully tried to ignore them, but couldn’t tamp down the frustration that was forcing a growl to build in her chest as she remained marked and the other forwards played back and forth balls to the midfield.

She checked her speed and turned when an opposing midfielder stepped up and Alexia had to play the ball back. A sharp weight slammed into her as she tried to make a run back to help, and she spun, off balance. As she spun, a hand grabbed her jersey, tugging her down. Dominant alpha pheromones hit her harder than the defender had earlier and the pitch rolled beneath her feet again.

“On your knees,” The stupid alpha that had shouldered her down before snarled at her, “where you belong.”

“Stay the fuck away from her!” Virginia came flying out of nowhere and shoved the woman.

Oh, shit.

The alpha snarled and pushed Virginia back. The pheromones were making her head spin. Virginia and the other alpha were trying to beat each other down with fists and scent. Not good.

Nahikari grabbed her arm and pulled Virginia back, but as lean as the taller woman was, she was strong. The ref got in between the two alphas and stopped the blood bath before it could begin. Jenni rushed in and bodied her fellow co-captain and Nahikari, who was still clutching Virginia’s arm, back. Down the field, Irene had a fist in Mapi’s jersey and a hand up at the rest of the backline and Sandra. Patri had her arms wrapped around Alexia and was grinning as she spun them around and away. Leila was talking shit and gesturing furiously at the smug looks on the opposing team’s faces.

Coach was hollering at them from the sidelines.

Christ, the first half wasn’t even over and the game was going down, fast.

Jenni got them back on track, but Virginia was still snarling when they retook their positions. Nahikari could feel the bruises blooming across her body, pain beginning to pulse dully with every stride. She pushed through it, and did her best to frustrate the bullish defender in rut with some quick footwork every time she made the mistake of stepping into her space.

The tricks did nothing to endear her to the other team, but she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of losing her head and lashing out at them. When other team’s got physical, she got physical right back, but focused on better footwork and more speed, not dirty elbows and jersey tugs.

With barely a minute left to go in the first half, they made another run at the opposing team’s goal. She drew her new friend and another defender away, giving Jenni a window which Virginia rushed to fill. The ball had barely touched her foot when the tall alpha that had been pushing Nahikari around took Virginia out from behind.

The alpha caught her with a boot and dragged Virginia’s leg awkwardly to the side. The hit was downright dirty, and sent both players tumbling. It was clear the tall alpha had intended nothing but damage, she hadn’t even bothered to make an effort in going for the ball. Virginia’s scream cut through the fog the bullish alpha in rut’s scent had been creating around her and Nahikari flashed her teeth at the other woman when she made to block her way to her prone teammate.

Virginia had both hands wrapped around her knee and was howling, face pressed into the pitch. Jenni was losing her shit on the ref, who was in the process of booking the tall alpha that had possibly ended Virginia’s season with a red card. Nahikari threw a snarl at the women as she rushed past to get to Virginia.

“Gin,” She tried to tamp down her panic and sound soothing, “take a deep breath you’re going to be okay.”

Shit. She had never been good at this compassion thing. Flirting? A master. Trying to sooth someone who just gotten their knee ripped off? Yeah, pass.

Virginia had stopped screaming at least and was now just clenching her jaw so hard Nahikari swore she could hear her teeth cracking. She tried her best to create some version of a calm atmosphere with her scent, or, as close as one could get on a soccer pitch in front of an almost full stadium with hostile meatheads trying to kill them. What she accomplished was something shy of all out failure. The air, which had already been humid, became even more weighted. Her frustration was acidic against her own tongue, and she knew she wasn’t doing Virginia any good. The alpha’s pain was palatable, and rather than invoke something soft and caring within her, it made something dark and dangerous raise its head in Nahikari. It felt as if they were in the eye of a storm, everything hushed and waiting to break free to unleash a new, even more destructive round of fury.

“Virginia,” she tried to steady her voice but it was like gravel, stuck in her throat like a snarl, “I’m sorry, I-”

Thankfully, the trainers and Mapi were swooping in to take over and Nahikari backed away, her hands shaking. Her vision felt tunneled, stuck on Virginia curled into a ball on the pitch. Mapi had a hand on her head, the other was slowly prying the death grip she had around her knee free.

“Nahi.” She turned and found Alexia right next to her. “This isn’t your fault.”

Then why were her hands shaking? And, why did she feel torn between being sick and ripping that smug, tall alpha’s throat out?

She let the midfielder pull her away from the circle of trainers and Virginia’s prone form. Alexia wrapped an arm around her waist as they trudged toward the sideline to get water and some instructions from the staff. Her shirt was glued to her back where Alexia’s arm lay, and despite the pain thrumming through her body, she couldn’t help but fidget as they waited for the training staff to finish with Virginia.

“She took that hit because of me.” Alexia tucked her closer, started to say something, but Nahikari cut her off. “They targeted her because she defended me earlier.”

Leila draped herself across their backs, and stuck her head in between her and Alexia. “Nahi, I hate to break it to you, but not everything is about you and your fine ass.”

Leave it to Leila to break the tension. That, and the fact that the trainers were waving away the stretcher and helping Virginia to her feet. She took one last sip of water, the pitch had been hot at the start of the game, but now it was stifling, and raced over to help walk Virginia off. One of the trainers let her sidle in and take his place at Virginia’s side, the alpha’s arm draped around her shoulders.

“So,” she flashed Virginia a grin, “what’s the verdict, they taking your leg off at the knee or the hip?”

Virginia gave a grunt that was half laugh, half whine, and Nahikari took a firmer hold of her hip and leaned more of her weight against her.

“Feels like that runt already severed it.”

Nahikari laughed and tried to ignore her own screaming muscles. “Thanks for swooping in earlier, I’ll make sure I get them back for taking you down.”

“Try not to get your ass handed to you,” Despite her unsteady gait and the pain burning deep in her eyes, Virgina gave her a wry smile, “I don’t do the, ‘wail and cry over my teammate’s prone form’ thing.”

She couldn’t help pinching the alpha’s hip and smirked when Virginia curled her lip at her, just the faintest show of teeth, but nonetheless, it made Nahikari’s breath catch. She loved skipping along the lines people had, throwing a quick foot over every now and then to rile them up. Virginia was no exception, the alpha was fun, even more so when she wasn’t in pain and upset about being subbed off.

“Behave yourself,” a rush of pheromones, warm like sun baked sand and the unmistakable sting of salt from the ocean, filled the air, “and go score that goal for me.” Virginia gave her shoulder a sharp squeeze as she stepped away and the trainer lowered her onto the bench. Nahikari gave herself a shake, her skin was crawling, probably because she was sweating through her kit. She flashed Virginia a smile, one with a little too much teeth, but followed it up with a sly, and over the top wink to soften the semi threat the smile came off as. Virginia and the rest of the bench laughed.

She made a point to add some exaggeration to her jog as she made her way past Leila, and the other omega wolf whistled before breaking into a fit of giggles. Nahikari’s shadows returned as play resumed, and the hits and pulls kept on coming. The waves of pheromones were definitely the worst aspect of the assault, damn alphas and their need to make everyone drown in their dominance.

As the added time ticked away, Nahikari couldn’t write off her crawling skin and sweating on the heat of the pitch anymore. She snarled and flashed her teeth at the bullish defender when the halftime whistle blew, the alpha’s pheromones pulsing with her racing heart. The women was calling out to her, very blatantly, and she was so fucking done. She forced herself to turn her back on the woman and walk as nonchalantly as possible back to the locker room. Easier said than done when her instincts screamed that she was asking to be grabbed and put in her place.

Alexia was paused in the middle of the pitch, eyes locked onto something over Nahikari’s shoulder. She didn’t need to turn to know Alexia was staring the alpha in rut down. Nahikari liked to think she was bold, and she was, but Alexia never ceased to surprise her with just how few fucks the midfielder could give about societal hierarchy and general rules of etiquette. Getting into an eye pissing match with an alpha was risky enough, let alone engaging an alpha in rut.

When she reached Alexia, she couldn’t help but mutter, “If I have to behave, so do you.”

Alexia didn’t bother to answer, she just kept her glare fixed on the alpha, who, by the way Alexia’s eyes slowly trailed across the pitch, seemed to be making her way to her own locker room painfully slow.

“I can feel her calling out to you.”

Nahikari froze, curled her lip at her teammate, agitated. “Ignore it, that’s what I’ve been doing all game.”

Alexia hummed, picked quickly at her jersey that was glued to her body, and Nahikari subtly batted her hand away.

“Stop that.” She growled at Alexia and then twisted her face into the most absurd and ridiculously condescending grin she could muster. Nahikari turned in the same instant and waved sarcastically at the alpha who had just joined her teammates and was about to head into the tunnel back to the locker room. The alpha, too busy snarling at Alexia who was winning the eye pissing match, blinked hard like she had been slapped and tried to start forward. Her teammates, who seemed to have half a braincell more, pushed and tugged her into the tunnel, back to their locker room.

“You two are worse than Vero.” Irene met them and not so gently directed them to their own bench so they could collect their things and head in.

Nahikari couldn’t help but laugh and flashed a truly genuine and dazzling smile at Irene, who just snorted and shook her head. It was always a good day when she was being compared to Vero Boquete. Alexia said a few choice words in Catalan on the way into the tunnel and over to the locker room, but Irene studiously ignored her. Jenni detached herself from the wall she had been leaning against in the tunnel and met up with them. The tall defender narrowed her eyes at the forward and nodded at Alexia who was still on a Catalan trash talking roll. Jenni grinned and held up her hands as she backed into the locker room, and poor Irene let loose such a world weary sigh Nahikari couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

Alexia stopped her right before they stepped into the cramped space with the rest of the team. “You sure you’re okay Nahi? They’ve been pushing you around in more than one way all game.”

She bit back the nasty retort that threatened to slap her teammate in the face and settled for something a little closer to rude. “I’m fine, stop fussing.”

The midfielder stepped into her space, sudden and aggressive. Nahikari felt her weight land in her heels and she swayed for a breath, taken aback. She shook her head hard, and slammed Alexia into the wall at her back, right where the little fake hallway opened into the rest of the locker room. Nahikari crowded her, snarl drowning out the quickly fading chatter of their teammates.

“Nahikari!” Jenni’s shout was like a whip crack, making her snarl balk and die in her throat. She hastily removed her hands from the front of Alexia’s jersey and stumbled away, dodging both Jenni and Alexia’s outstretched hands.

She slumped sullenly on a bench near the back of the room, next to Mariona, who kept throwing a quizzical look between her and Alexia. The national team was close, always affectionate with one another, and the girls rarely fought. Even though Alexia had provoked her, Nahikari’s reaction was a bit much, she was sure to be questioned about her outburst later. Plus, who the hell went after Alexia? She was shy, driven, hyper focused on her game and the team as a whole. Okay, she had a mouth and strong opinions, but of everyone on the team, she was a leading candidate for, “least likely to pick a fight or be remotely involved in one,” the only other person who could beat her out on that honor would be Mapi.

Alexia must have held Jenni back, because her captain didn’t rush over to give her a very well deserved dressing down. After the conversation in the room had grown back to a dull roar, Nahikari finally let herself take a deep breath and took stock of herself.

Her shin was screaming, and she knew there would be a perfect imprint of a cleat, spikes and all, when she removed her socks after the game. The shoulder she had landed on was still throbbing, and she gave it an experimental roll and stretch. Nothing popped or cracked, and there was no white hot spike of pain, so just another deep bruise. The locker room of this stadium was cramped, the benches pressed close together, and she couldn’t help fidgeting, the air in the room hotter than the field, the humidity pressing down like a firm hand on all sides.

Mariona scooted closer and leaned her body into her side. She couldn’t help the involuntary flinch and growl that began to build in her chest as the beta stubbornly refused to move out of her space.

“Nahi,” Mariona lowered her voice so it could barely be heard above the other conversations raging around them, “stop being a brat and let me help, or coach will sub you off.”

She wanted to shove the other girl away. Thousands of ants felt like they were doing a tap dance across her skin, and despite the ache in her shin, her feet begged her to jump up and move, run, stop sitting still. It felt like a storm was trying to break in the locker room, the air hot and heavy, waiting with baited breath for the catalyst that would unleash all the pressure that had been building up. Vaguely, it registered in Nahiakri’s mind that the fist she felt closing around her was her own scent. Something dark, and heavy, sharp with hints of ozone and the barely suppressed fury of lightning waiting to strike. Her mother always said she was like the storms that were common in the mountains of Gipuzkoa, hard to predict, swift moving, and quick to unleash wild rage that abated as quickly as it broke.

Mariona’s scent washed over her, clean and clear, like a sea breeze. She choked back the whine of frustration and swore in Basque instead.

The outburst drew Virginia’s attention, who was sitting on the exam table a few feet away. The injured leg was laid out, a big ice pack saran wrapped to her knee. She swung her other leg over the side of the table idly, chatting with Lola.

“Hey,” she nodded to the ice pack on her knee, “you okay or do you need some ice for all those elbows you’ve been taking?”

Virginia’s tone was light, joking, like it almost always was when they spoke. While her shin and shoulder throbbed, it was the ache beginning to bloom low and slow in her gut that really worried Nahikari. This was not happening right now.

She ignored Virginia, even when she repeated the question in Catalan. For once, she was happy the coach was speaking up and forcing them to cease idle chatter and focus on the gameplay for the second half. Mariona pressed close again, trying to calm her with her solid presence and scent.

Even though she wanted nothing more than to push Mari off the bench and away from her, she let her crowd in. The beta could help ease the galloping of her heart, which had taken off at breakneck speed when she finally allowed herself to confront what the opposing team was trying to do to her, and what Alexia had picked up on. The brute of an alpha she had been squaring up against all night was trying to bully her into heat. Her stupid friends were all too keen to help, harassing her, pushing her around, and ultimately scaring her when they took out Virginia.

Talk about dirty fucking play.

If she went into heat, coach would bench her. Arguably, she could keep playing, but she’d be hindered, and most coaches didn’t like to risk having an unstable player out on the field. Some teams liked having the distraction of an omega in heat on the pitch, but they were usually nothing more than a weak link, someone easy to muscle around because they were so distracted by the pain and fever.

Coach aside, her captains, Jenni, Virginia, and Irene, who was always considered a captain regardless of recent votes, would never let her onto the field with an opposing player in rut. Hell, they’d probably insist on her staying in the locker room with Virginia. She’d already been marked as a target, and the national team was protective of each other above all else. They’d never let her risk being attacked, even if the ref would have to break it up and they were close enough to assist her if needed (she had one hell of a right hook).

The trainers would have to give her an emergency shot of suppressants too, if her body continued to betray her. Which was dangerous, the liquid suppressants had never sat well with her, seeming to do the opposite of calming her body down.

The national team tried to keep everyone on the same schedule, heat wise. It was just easier to manage, having everyone on suppressants at once. Many teams kept the same practice, but it wasn’t an exact science. Plus, these one shot international friendlies during the regular club season put everyone out of wack. This time of year, everyone was on their club’s schedule, and Real Sociedad hadn’t bothered to prep and send her regular medication along with her, because her heat was supposed to be weeks away.

Not that the suppressants would have done much. She always managed to blow through them.

Nahikari focused on the coaches words and Mariona’s scent, breathing deep in through her nose and out through her mouth. Usually, she could wrestle back control, as her heats were a slow, torturous build, but there were too many bodies in the locker room, too many scents. Plus, she may or may not have been panicking slightly.

Salt. Soothing warmth.

The pheromones bled through Mariona’s scent and settled against her like a blanket. She felt the aches from the bruises ease to a dull roar, but the fire beginning to lick its way through her veins raged. The blanket of pheromones went from a comforting caress to being suffocated by a wet woolen rag in the span of a heartbeat. Nahikari turned, fixed Virginia with the iciest stare she could muster and barred her teeth.

The alpha, her friend the rational part of her brain muttered, frowned and flinched back, the leg that she had been idly swinging along the table still. Just as Virginia opened her mouth to ask what the hell her problem was, the team started to get to their feet to head back out to the pitch. Mariona grabbed her by the back of the collar and dragged her away from Virginia, who still looked hurt and even more confused as Nahikari allowed Mari to haul her away.

As they took their positions on the field, she could feel Alexia’s gaze burning a hole in her back. The whistle sounded, and Nahikari shoved the midfielder’s concern out of her mind. If the other team wanted to play dirty, then so be it. Granted it had been a few years since she had to deal with opposing players trying to force her into a heat, the boys teams and older girls she had played against when she was younger liked to try their hand at her from time to time, but she knew how to work through it.

She matched her stride to her racing heart, and forced herself to focus on how good it felt to be moving, how the tap dance across her skin came to a grinding halt when she was flying past players. The defender in rut was still blatantly calling out to her, she was sure the whole field could tell by now, but she pushed past it and tried to suffocate the pheromones with her own. The tingle of ozone that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps to shiver across her arms. Pressure that made you pause, the feeling of dark clouds rolling in. The anticipation of a break, a flash of lightning, sheets of rain, something to push you over the edge and unleash the storm.

Her tactics worked, though she only assisted on the goal that was stolen from Virginia. Regardless, Spain won the game 4-0, and more importantly she had the satisfaction of seeing the look of fury and frustration on the stupid defender that had been harassing her all night. She made a point of taking her time during the handshakes and maintaining eye contact with every alpha on the opposing team while she stood before them. Fuck her instincts and fuck societal etiquette. She wouldn’t be cowed or bullied into forfeiting a game just because she was an omega.

Despite their earlier skirmish, Alexia was quick to wrap her in a hug.

“Doing omegas proud, a goal and an assist, all with an asshat team of alphas breathing down your neck.” Alexia’s comment made her smile.

Nahikari laughed and pressed her face into the midfielder’s neck, taking some comfort from her calm, steady scent. Alexia shivered, a hand coming up to cradle her head. She whined, low in her throat, and the sound made Nahikari come back to herself.

“Shit,” she stumbled back from Alexia who kept a steadying hand on her elbow, “I’m sorry I-” Nahikari shook her head, agitated. Fuck this. “Where’s Mari?”

Alexia walked with her to the sideline, where Mariona quickly jogged over and wrapped an arm around her waist. While they chatted, Nahikari let the beta’s sent wash over her and restore some sense. Alexia ducked away and returned with Patri. Mercifully, she didn’t continue to fuss and left as Patri slung an arm around Nahikari’s shoulders. Sandwiched between two betas, Nahikari felt the fire in her blood and the sharp pain in her gut quiet momentarily. She still wanted to shove the two women away, but she was able to rein in her irrational crawling skin.

———

Once on the bus with Mariona settled next to her, Nahikari fixed her gaze out the window and ignored the team filtering past them. Salt hit her tongue, and she snapped her mouth shut. Get it together she chastised herself. She could see Virginia’s reflection in the window, and bit back a snarl when Patri gave up her isle seat across from Mariona and moved to the back of the bus.

Traitor.

Virginia valiantly tried to start several conversations with her on the bus ride home, but her stomach was seesawing too much for her to trust opening her mouth would end up with words leaving it and not something else. Mari awkwardly answered the questions and responded to the comments that were clearly not being directed at her, like a true friend. Patri, take notes. Finally, Virginia gave up, or at least, she had settled back in her seat and was planning a new course of attack.

Mariona laid a gentle hand on her arm and Nahikari drew into herself, shrinking away and against the window. She laid her forehead against the glass and wished the bus driver would turn the air conditioning up. Sweat was beginning to build at her temples and slide down her back, despite the cold shower she had taken after the game.

“Have you texted your trainers at Real Sociedad?”

She nodded, cheek squeaking against the window.

Mari sighed, “Are you feeling sick yet?”

Nahikari could see Virginia’s reflection in the window tip her head toward them. She didn’t have the energy to tell the forward to fuck off, plus, her stomach was still questionable. Mariona took her silence as an answer and leaned against her, head on her shoulder. The cheeky little beta even wedged her hand into her’s and wrapped their fingers together.

“I know you want nothing more than to kick me into the aisle, but spare me the tantrum and let me help you.” Mariona pressed the words against her neck, soft and low, aware they had an audience.

The tantrum, as Mariona had put it, was hard to hold back, but she did her friend a favor, this once. The beta’s scent washed over her, and while the storm threatened to rip her skin apart, she held herself still. Through all of it, Virginia’s reflection would check in every so often, the forward’s pain ringing clear and strong, the salt in her scent a sharp sting. Nahikari knew it wasn’t her knee that was bothering her, and could only shut her eyes and wish the bus trip would end.

Notes:

Someone asked for Pernille to be made a main character, toying around with her storyline to see how it could be worked into more of the forefront. Let me know if you have any other players you'd like to see!

Chapter 3: Lindsey Horan 1

Summary:

While Nahikari and Virginia refuse to shut up, Lindsey can't be coerced into speaking. Sorry this took so long, Lindsey's storyline is a little harder to write then the others.

Chapter Text

Heart pounding, Lindsey wobbled her way over to the window and leaned an arm against the glass. Portland’s busy streets bustled below her, the weekend crowd milling about artisan coffee shops, art studios, and the occasional green space. The bed creaked, and Lindsey had to force her gaze to remain on the street below.

“Jeez Linds,” Caitlin’s voice was low, almost a growl, “do you ever just let yourself come down?”

Lindsey laughed, breath fogging the window slightly. “I don’t do cuddle and bask in the afterglow, Caitlin, you know that.”

The bed creaked again and Lindsey knew without turning that Caitlin was making her way towards the window. Arms quickly wrapped around her waist from behind, and she let herself be pulled tight against Caitlin’s chest. The other girl’s mouth moved across the back of her shoulder, up her neck and to the shell of her ear. She tried and failed to hold back the shiver that wracked her frame as Caitlin nipped at her earlobe.

“Come back to bed Linds.”

Caitlin’s scent wrapped around her, cloying, the alpha’s pheromones making her head spin and her stomach flip flop. She tried and failed to convince herself that the butterflies were from anticipation. Caitlin was a great lay. She was good with her hands, better with her mouth, and she was considerate.

Lindsey wasn’t stupid.

She knew it disappointed Caitlin that she had no interest in staying wrapped together on the bed, but the alpha didn’t push. Okay, that was a lie worse than the one she was telling herself about the butterflies. Caitlin pushed, but she did so subtly and far less frequently than Lindsey’s past fuck buddies had.

Lindsey let Caitlin scatter a few more kisses across her back and shoulder. When she felt teeth scraping against her neck, she turned and pushed Caitlin back to sit on the side of the bed. The alpha leaned back on her hands and smirked up at her.

Cocky little shit.

She closed the distance between them quickly, and straddled Caitlin while locking their lips together in a heated kiss. The alpha gasped into her mouth and it was Lindsey’s turn to smirk.

———

Emily was giving her some serious side eye as they made their way into the stadium. She had lost track of time earlier and had to skip showering to make their extra conditioning session she and Emily had planned at the start of the week. Plus, why bother showering if she was just going to be drenched in sweat soon?

“Sooooo,” Emily dragged the O out in a sing song voice that had Lindsey curling her lip, “how’s your day been going so far?”

Lindsay shot her a narrowed eyed glare. “Fine.”

She knew she reeked. Caitlin’s cloying scent was all over her, woven through her knotted hair and clinging to her skin.

Emily made a contemplative sound and shouldered the side door to the stadium open. Lindsey followed her, stubbornly ignoring the side eye and suggestive half smile Emily kept throwing her way. They made it all the way to the locker room before Lindsey snapped.

In her defense, Sonny was humming a wedding march and skipping into the room like some deranged flower girl.

She shoved Emily, who simply laughed and let herself be spun off balance across the room.

“I’d hit you back Horan,” Emily had righted herself and was still giving her that sly look, “but I wouldn’t want your alpha to get offended and issue a challenge against me.”

Lindsey growled and threw a cleat from the nearby locker. “You and I both know that if it came to a fight, you’d kick Caitlin’s ass.”

Emily grinned and dodged the cleat easily. She retaliated with a pair of wadded up shorts, quickly followed by a shirt.

“Indeed,” Emily put her foot up on one of the locker benches and did her best impression of the Captain Morgan stance, “I am the stronger alpha.”

She batted the sweatshirt Lindsey tossed at her away, and continued to dance about the room, striking stupid poses.

“More amusing!”

A jersey sailed over Emily’s shoulder.

“Better dressed!”

A ball of socks bounced back at Lindsey, Emily having caught them with her foot and somehow managing to redirect them like a ball.

“A superb listener!”

She winced as she watched Tobin’s snapback whip through the air like a frisbee. In her defense, she had thought it was Kling’s when she picked it up. Emily gave her a look like, “Mom is going to KILL you,” as the snapback ricocheted off the wall and skidded across the floor, but kept crowing.

“A magnificent lover!”

Lindsey couldn’t help laughing at that one and sent another cleat at Emily’s head. It glanced off her shoulder, and she gasped, clutching the spot where it had grazed her.

“Cruel, heartless woman!” Emily staggered and fell to a knee, “First, you take another alpha into your bed, then, you wound me with deadly projectiles!”

Emily gasped, and fell the floor, moaning and crying out for her mother. She rolled around the locker room floor, as Lindsey continued to throw their teammate’s belongs at her. After a few minutes, Emily sprang to her feet suddenly and rushed her, hands wrapping around her hips and momentum sending them both sprawling.

“Sonnet, what the hell!” Lindsey tried to shove her off, but Emily clung to her like a koala and kept them on the floor in a heap of wrinkled clothes and mismatched cleats.

“Revenge shall be swift and merciless!” Emily growled at her playfully and did her best to keep the upper hand, but Lindsey out muscled her, like usual.

“What was that earlier about being the strong?” Lindsey couldn’t help be a bit smug as Emily tried vainly to unseat her. She was straddling the other girl, weight and legs keeping Emily’s lower body pinned, while her hands held Emily’s wrists against the floor.

“Cheat! You’ve used your omega wiles against me. I demand a redo and a fair fight to the death!”

With a snort she rolled off Emily and settled on her back, next to her friend. Emily tipped her head to look at her, and Lindsey mirrored her.

“You know I don’t give a shit who you take to bed.” Emily stated matter-of-factly.

Of all the fuck buddies Lindsey has had, Emily is by far the chillest. Probably has something to do with the fact that they’re best friends and the whole sleeping together thing only started out of necessity. She still remembers the abject terror coursing through her veins as her heat dragged her under like a rip current during the 2016 Olympics. Too ashamed to go to Tobin, she had turned up at Emily’s door in the Olympic village, shaking, pain making her teeth and bones rattle. Emily had barely rubbed the sleep from her eyes before she was dragging Lindsey into her room, barking at Morgan Brian to get the hell up and out. Long story short, Emily had taken care of her in more ways than one.

“I know.” She whispered to Emily.

“However,” Emily wrinkled her nose and faked a sneeze, “I do care about your personal hygiene and honey, you STINK like overconfident alpha right now.”

Lindsey laughed, rose to her feet, and flipped Emily off as the other girl reached out her hands to be pulled up.

Emily gasped. “The final insult!”

They eventually made their way to the weight room, the locker room a total war zone. Lindsay really was not looking forward to picking all their teammates things up later.

———

“How long do you think Caitlin will last?”

Lindsey choked on her coffee. They had finished their conditioning session, showered, shoved all their teammates belongings they had been tossing around in Ellie’s locker, and decided to swing by their favorite cafe.

It was a small, hole in the wall kind of place, complete with string lights hanging from the rafters. Leather armchairs, cracked and peeling, were circled around brightly colored tables. Aspiring authors and slam poets were hunched over their Mac’s which were covered in a mishmash of craft brewery and political stickers. The room was a sea of flannel, tweed, and those stylish eyeglasses that didn’t have real lenses in them.

The patrons, too focused on their novels and rhyme schemes, never bothered to look away from their screens. It was one of the only cafes in the city where people didn’t approach them, phone in hand, hoping for a picture. Though, the patrons could be roused to rejoin the real world when someone was currently hacking up a lung.

Emily rolled a napkin up and started swatting her arm with it, “Pull,” swat, “yourself,” swat, “together!”

Bright red and furious, Lindsay snatched the napkin away just as she managed to pull air instead of coffee into her lungs.

“Oh, good,” Emily smirked and took a sip of her drink, “you’ve remembered how to breathe. Shall I repeat the question?”

Emily always dove right in. No pretense, no dancing around and warming up to the big ask. Just right to the point. She really hated and envied how straightforward Emily was.

“What do you mean?”

Unlike Emily, she was not straightforward. She could dance all day and into the night.

Emily rolled her eyes and gestured to the room of bowed heads, can you believe this girl right now?

Lindsey snorted and starred into her coffee mug. “I don’t know, Em. It’s not like we signed a contract or anything.”

Leather groaned, and Lindsey glanced up to see Emily was leaning across the table, forearms braced against the sticky tabletop. Her gaze was boring into her, and Lindsey had to check the little voice in her head that whispered for her to look down and away. Emily may be an alpha, but she was also Lindsey’s friend. This wasn’t some kind of power play, they were just talking.

“I just don’t want her to think that this is something more than what it is.” Emily had lowered her voice, a seriousness that Lindsey rarely saw off the pitch taking over. “Alphas are territorial dickheads, and I don’t want her thinking she has a claim on you.”

Lindsey narrowed her eyes. “I know how to handle myself and friends with benefits Sonnett.”

Emily held her gaze for a few more heartbeats and then looked away, out the window over her shoulder. After a tense moment, their conversation resumed and turned toward topics less likely to make Lindsey’s hackles raise. By the time they finished their second cup of coffee, a light rain had started.

Absently, Lindsey watched the droplets of water race each other down the windows lining the front of the shop. A couple was tucked into one of the window seats, sharing a book and a scone. The scene was so cliched, it made Lindsey want to scoff and roll her eyes.

“Do you think I’m crazy for wanting a relationship minus the actual relationship part?

Emily stopped whatever she had been rambling about mid sentence, brow furrowed and mouth hanging open in confusion. “Usually, one waits until the person speaking is finished before beginning a whole new line of conversation.”

Lindsey ignored her comment and glanced from Emily’s face to the bottom of her now empty mug.

“I thought Caitlin would be easy, but I feel like she expects more from me.” Lindsey fidgeted with her coffee mug, and frowned. “I just want to have fun, with no strings attached.”

A hand stilled her spinning mug and she met Emily’s eyes.

“I think if you wanted no strings, you wouldn’t have started sleeping with your teammate and friend.”

She felt like one of those butterflies people pinned to fancy paper and framed. Why was Emily so good at this? She had spent the last few weeks wrestling with what Emily had just highlighted and sort of named. Caitlin was fun, always up for an adventure and a good prank. However, Lindsey knew that Caitlin was also fiercely protective of her friends and sometimes took being an alpha a little too serious.

“So, what do you think I want then?” Lindsey hadn’t meant for her question to be so snappish, but Emily didn’t look perturbed.

“I think you want a relationship minus the actual relationship part.”

Exasperated, Lindsey pulled her mug away from Emily’s hand and slid it across the table at her. Emily fumbled to get ahold of the empty cup as it sailed over the edge of the table. Somehow, she kept it from shattering against the floor.

“Hey!” Emily held the mug protectively against her chest. “Don’t start throwing things at me because you’re upset you’re confused.”

Lindsey made a move to snatch Emily’s mug, which was still sitting on the table, and Emily grabbed it with her free hand while she scooted her chair back from the table.

“Made you flinch.” Lindsey smiled sweetly at Emily who growled playfully back at her.

Emily leaned back and placed the mugs on the table behind them. Some guy in a beanie and flannel shirt glanced up from his Mac at the empty coffee mugs, clearly confused. Emily waved him back to his keyboard and turned away before the guy could open his mouth to ask what they hell she was doing. She dragged her chair back to their table and settled her head on her hands, elbows stuck to the table top.

“So, talk to me.” Lindsey rolled her eyes but Emily fixed her with a look that brooked no argument. “And by talk to me, I mean, explain what ‘actual relationship’ means to you.”

Lindsey paused, caught off guard. She’d never really considered exactly what she was referring to when she used that term. After a few failed starts, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed in frustration.

“I don’t know Ems.”

Emily hummed and tried to remove her elbows from where they were glued by old coffee rings and spilled pastry filling. Realizing she’d have to loose some skin to move, she shrugged her shoulders in defeat and picked her head up from her hands so she could gesture weakly with them. Lindsey tried and failed to contain her smile at Emily’s ridiculous position.

“Focus Horan, we’re discussing your love life and whether you’ll end up as a hunchbacked old spinster in some hovel up in the mountains.”

Lindsey snorted and settled back in her chair, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Relationships are just hanging out and doing fun shit, but with more hand holding and sex involved.” Emily steepled her fingers and pursed her lips. “You like doing fun shit and sex, so its the hand holding and feelings that make you want to run for the hills.”

“Brilliant deduction Sherlock.”

Emily shot finger guns at her. “Thank you, Watson.”

A barista stepped up to their table, eyes searching. Lindsey made eye contact and nodded at the girl, but she just swept her gaze through her and over to Emily.

“Can I get you two another refill?” She seemed confused as to where their mugs had gone.

Emily turned down the offer and then made a, how about you gesture to Lindsey, but the barista was already striding away. Lindsey curled her lip and starred daggers at the girl’s back.

“That.” Lindsey couldn’t help but growl. “That’s what I don’t like about relationships.”

“Linds, I hate to ruin your fantasy, but we’re not dating.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean Ems.”

Emily nodded her head sagely and laced her fingers together, arms still upright and elbows still glued to the tabletop. “Ah, yes, societal norms and the loss of self an omega experiences when in the presence of commonly perceived dominate alphas.”

“You’re such an ass.”

The beaming smile Emily leveled at her could almost blind. “A brilliant deduction Watson, you’re quickly becoming almost as clever as me.”

Lindsey kicked the leg of the table, sending it skittering to the right. The howl Emily released as her elbows ripped away from the table had the entire shop staring at them. Dozens of irritated gazes burned into them from behind fake glasses. Lindsey felt the flush creeping up her face and slid down in her chair a bit.

Emily glared at her, hands wrapped around her elbows. “That was mean.” She slid her chair back and got up slowly. “I’m telling Tobin you’re the reason why the brim on her snapback is bent.”

With that declaration, Emily spun away from the table and raced out the door, into the rain. Lindsey jumped up after her, side checking some tweed clad wannabe writer into a table in her haste to catch up. The shower was nothing more than a haze of mist at this point, but the sidewalks were slick. She slipped rounding the corner at the end of the block, but even with the momentary loss of her footing, she was gaining on Emily.

“Heed my dominance and cower before me!” Emily wasn’t even bothering to turn her head over her shoulder, she was just shouting at the semi empty street before them.

Lindsey laughed, the uneasy butterflies that had been twisting in her stomach all morning finally settling down. She pushed forward, the slippery sidewalk a blur beneath her feet as she continued to close the distance between her and Emily. There was no way Emily would reach Tobin’s apartment before she caught up to her. Little did Emily know, she had no intentions of trying to stop her. Why catch her when Lindsey could just outrun her and frame her for the dented brim?

Chapter 4: Ada Hegerberg and Dzsenifer Marozsan 1

Summary:

In which Ada starts with a new club and has an interesting first day. For those keeping an eye out for Lucy, she'll stroll in with a dedicated chapter or two a bit later in the story (stories?) I can't decide if we should hear from Dzsenifer, or leave the focus with Ada. Let know your thoughts.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ada narrowed her eyes over the rim of her coffee cup at the male alpha confidently striding her way. She always wondered why no one took the hint that sitting in the back of the shop, at a table with only one armchair, with a book in her hand and earphones in, meant that she didn’t want to be bothered. People just assumed she always needed company, always needed a hand on her arm, always needed some asshat alpha pressed into her side. She really fucking hated being an omega sometimes.

The guy sidled up to her chair, which was impressive considering it was wedged into the corner and Ada had made sure the table was squarely in front of it. She feigned confusion as he tried to strike up a conversation, but when he switched from French to heavily accented English, she knew he wouldn’t be taking the hint and leaving of his own volition.

With a sigh, she packed up her book, took one last sip of her coffee, and stood. She fixed the man with a pointed look, and then glanced behind him at the door. He smiled, and asked again for her name in halting English.

Deciding confusion was still the best defense, she furrowed her brow and shook her head, pretending she wasn’t following a thing he was saying. She gestured to the door, gave him a nod, and told him to fuck off in Norwegian as she squeezed her way around him.

Despite having a few inches on him, the man refused to budge when she stepped into his space.

Alphas. Always in the way.

She had to bite her lip to keep from flashing her teeth at him, best not start a fight when she was standing this close. Plus, she had only just landed in France. Andrine would never let her live it down if she made a scene now, barely half a day under her belt.

As she made her way out of the coffee shop, she did her best to weave and dodge her way through and around other patrons and tables. The guy had made an attempt to follow her for a few strides, but she was able to shake him in the morning crowd before she made it to the door. Once outside and on the street, she picked up the pace and took the first couple of turns that came up.

She had to double back a few times, but being a little late for the team meeting was worth it if it meant she wasn’t being dogged by some alpha who refused to take a hint.

———

Okay, so, maybe being late to the team meeting hadn’t been such a good idea. Despite slipping into the room and grabbing a seat just as the introductions and welcome were being made, the whole room came to a standstill as she sat down. Players and staff were staring at her like she had five heads, and if she wasn’t mistaken, someone was actually growling at her.

Before she could begin to formulate an apology, the doors to the meeting room banged open. A very frazzled Dzsenifer Marozsan stumbled into the room, backpack in hand and coat askew. Her cheeks were wind burned and she was struggling to catch her breath.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she gasped.

The tension in the room broke like a dam, laughter and heckling rushing to fill the space. Marozsan tossed her backpack against the wall and tried to tame her hair and pull her coat straight at the same time. She was woefully unsuccessful, and it just made the players laugh harder.

“Jenny,” Amandine Henry turned in her chair, a wicked grin spreading across her face, “did you run here from the airport?

“Not fast enough, obviously!” Lucy Bronze laughed at the scowl Marozsan threw her and turned back around as the coaching staff started to call everyone’s attention back to the front of the room.

Bright red from embarrassment and her run to the meeting, Marozsan didn’t bother to make her way to one of the empty seats in the room. She took a standing spot behind the chairs in the back and rolled her eyes at her teammates’ jests.

“My flight was delayed.” Marozsan waved off the quickly dying jokes and mumbled one last apology as she settled in to stand through the meeting, hands still fussing with her coat and hair.

Ada had never seen the German captain so disheveled before. Usually, the stoic alpha was the epitome of calm on and off the field. It was almost disconcerting to see her so unraveled.

As the coaching staff restored order, a few players continued to give Ada side eye. It wasn’t until Wendie Renard caught her gaze and nodded subtly at Marozsan standing in the back that Ada put two and two together. She got up as quickly and quietly as she could, and made her way to the back of the room.

Wendie tossed her a wink and turned her full attention back to the meeting.

“Late, too?”

Ada nodded at Marozsan who shot her a sympathetic smile.

“Well,” Marozsan lowered her voice to a whisper as the staff begin to outline the plan for the upcoming season, “glad my delayed flight is working in someone’s favor today. Least you won’t have to lead sprints alone later.”

Ada couldn’t help but groan and tip her head back to the ceiling. Sprints. Great. She and France were off to a wonderful start.

Marozsan shrugged good naturally at her, a small smile still tugging at her lips.

———

OL’s versions of sprints was some weird combination of individual punishment and team bonding. Not only did Ada and Marozsan have to change and hit the field, but the rest of the team and coaching staff joined them. As everyone rummaged about for their running shoes, Ada understood why someone had been growling at her earlier. She’d be pissed too if the new girl was making her run sprints on the very first day.

Marozsan’s late flight had actually been a blessing in disguise, because Ada would have never figured out by herself what to do once everyone was out on the field. Instead of arranging themselves along the line at the top of the pitch, the team and coaching staff grouped up into two even columns. The two columns set off at a brisk jog around the perimeter of the field, and Marozsan held them back until the first player at the front of each column was a stride or two from the opposite end of the field.

With a nod, they took off at a full sprint, racing to catch up with their teammates. Ada stumbled as Marozsan broke away from her side and instead of joining the back of one line, raced along the outside of it to make her way to the front. After only a beat of hesitation, Ada did the same. As they settled into the slightly slower pace at the front of the two lines, the coach called out. The two players who had been bringing up the rear of the columns sprinted to the front, and as her new teammates begin to take their positions in front of her, the coach called out for the next players to do the same.

They made several turns around the field in these even lines, sprinting to the front when their turn came. After every completed loop around the permitter of the field, the leaders of the columns would push the pace, challenging the team to pick up their feet. By the end of the drill, Ada’s legs were shaking and her cheeks were just as windburned as Marozsan’s.

A few of the more outgoing girls introduced themselves as they trudged back to the locker room. Wendie even complimented her French, and Ada was forced to conceded the day wasn’t a total wash.

As the girls began to filter out of the locker room in twos and threes, Ada found her headphones and triple checked the map she had pulled up on her phone. Her apartment wasn’t far from the stadium, but she didn’t have a good grasp of the city’s layout yet. A bag knocked her arm and she almost tossed her phone across the bench before her. She glared at Lucy Bronze’s retreating form.

“Ignore her,” Wendie gave her a smile, “you know how defenders are, they hate running sprints.”

“Sorry for being late for the meeting, won’t happen again.”

Wendie waved her apology away. “We could all use a little more conditioning, its fine.”

Ada gave her a nod and slipped out of the locker room. She turned her music up as the stadium began to fade behind her. It was still early enough that she’d make it to her apartment building before the streetlights started to come on, so she resigned herself to a long walk and decided to save puzzling out the public transport of the city for another day. When a hand landed on her upper arm, she couldn’t help but imagine Andrine’s angry expression and cursing.

The hell is wrong with you?! You’re asking for someone to grab you and kill you in an alley with music playing that loud!

Sure, the music drowning out the sounds of the city and the footsteps of anyone approaching her was a poor move, but her reaction to the hand on her arm would have made her sister proud. She spun, elbow up and rising to connect with her assaulter’s face. With her free hand, she ripped the headphones from her ears and-

“Sorry! Sorry!”

-stopped herself short before she could break Marozsan’s nose and slam the other women into the building beside them.

“What the fuck?!” It took her a few moments to realize she had shouted at Marozsan in Norwegian, her teammate’s confused expression not registering immediately. Ada was ready to jump out of her skin, blood rushing in her ears as she gasped for air.

Marozsan reached back out for her arm, and Ada stepped back, lip curling in warning. Some emotion Ada couldn’t name flashed quickly across Marozsan’s face. Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, Ada edged back a bit more, out of the other woman’s range.

“Sorry,” Marozsan gave her a sheepish smile and rubbed a hand against the back of her neck, “we were calling your name earlier, we just wanted to see if you wanted to walk back with us since we seem to be going the same way.”

Ada glanced over Marozsan’s shoulder and saw their teammate, the German goalkeeper who’s name was escaping her, standing a few feet back.

It took her a minute to steady her voice. “Thanks, but I’m all set.”

Marozsan blinked, mouth opening and closing. She looked like Ada had hit her in the face, expression almost blank with surprise. It was hard to gauge her emotions by scent out on the street, with the wind cutting through their coats and other people bustling by. Ada steeled herself, widening her stance just a bit and glancing back at the German goalkeeper.

“Right.” Marozsan had composed herself, both hands now tucked into her coat pockets. “Sorry again for startling you, see you tomorrow.”

Ada couldn’t help but cock her head at the other woman as she took a step back, and then turned and walked away. Since when did alphas purposefully disengage non-threateningly when walking away from omegas? She watched as the two Germans continued on down the street and then took a turn at the end of the block.

After a few ten counts, Ada checked her map and set off. She pocketed her headphones, and tried to ignore the phantom voice of her sister making a snippy “told you they were dangerous,” comment. There was a subway stop at the end of the block, and she tamped down the fleeting regret she felt as she stared wistfully at the stop.

The wind had picked up, and was now knifing its way through her jacket and sweater. She lengthen her stride and tried not to think about just how far she still had to walk.

———

She should have walked back with the Germans.

By the time she had gotten halfway back to her building, dark clouds had rolled in. Despite her furious prayers, rain had started to fall and the wind continued to cut through the streets. Granted, it wasn’t as cold as home, but her hands were still shaking by the time she fumbled the door to her building open.

A puddle was quickly forming beneath her boots as she struggled with the old lock on her front door. Damn France and its beautiful and historic buildings.

Her chattering teeth almost drowned out the footsteps on the stairs, and she swore as her key stuck in the lock.

“Hey, pretty girl from coffee shop.”

Seriously?

Ada resisted the urge to let her forehead thunk against the door. These things usually came in threes. Considering she’d already suffered the sprints for being late and the storm for being rude to her teammates, it made sense that the universe would shove the male alpha from the coffee shop up her stairs and before her still locked door. Why in the world he lived this far from the coffee shop was a mystery known only to karma, but hey, she was having a day so it made sense.

The guy strolled across the landing and into the hall, an easy, self confident smile plastered on his face. Andrine’s phantom voice was a snarl of pure fury echoing in her skull as she squared up and glared at the man. Ada was tired. Her legs were numb from sprints, her ridiculous walk back to her apartment, and the freak storm that had left her soaked to the bone. If she didn’t have the time or the patience for her German teammates, she certainly did not have a spare second for this asshole.

She told him to fuck off again in Norwegian, voice as razor sharp as the wind. He paused, smile shattering like fine china against stone, frustration rolling off him in waves. Laughter from the stairwell made him turn as he started to step forward, towards Ada.

Two women stumbled onto the landing, hair wet and rain dripping from their coats. Ada made eye contact with the pretty blonde over the guy’s shoulder, and her smile faltered. There was a moment of recognition, a shared understanding as the woman took in the hallway and the man standing between her and Ada. She pushed her friend back a bit and nodded in Ada’s direction.

The brunette turned, just as the guy looked away from the girls and came closer to Ada.

“I’m not interested, take a hint and leave me alone.”

The perfect French only made his scowl deepen, and Ada couldn’t help but growl and flash her teeth. A snarl quickly drowned out whatever the guy was trying to say, and a hand fisted in the back of his shirt sent him stumbling against the wall. The blonde woman, still on the landing of the stairwell, huffed a laugh.

“What part of that was unclear?” Lucy Bronze stepped into the stunned man’s space, hand still fisted in his shirt and forcing him prone against the wall. “Do you not speak French? Here, let me translate, piss off.” She finished in English.

As much as it hurt her pride, Ada had to take a step back. Lucy’s shove had forced her and the male alpha closer, and the pheromones pouring off Lucy were pure, unbridled fury. They had played each other enough times that Ada knew how aggressive Lucy was when she stepped into space. She also knew just how much it hurt when Lucy slammed into you mid run, tackling the ball away and making you think twice about getting near her or goal again.

The alpha pheromones she was filling the hallway with promised all of that on field ferocity and so much more.

The man couldn’t do anything but cower. Ada glanced over at the blonde woman still on the landing and they shared a smug look. Lucy hauled the guy to his feet and shoved him toward the stairwell. The blonde stepped back as the man stumbled up the stairs and fled from Lucy’s wrath.

Saved by Lucy Bronze. Scratch her earlier assessment, today was a wash and she definitely should have walked home with the Germans.

“Ada, you okay?” Lucy ran a hand through her hair, shaking raindrops across the floor.

The blonde woman on the landing raised an eyebrow at the two of them, crossing her arms and settling against the sill of the window. Gone were the shared looks. Clearly, the woman was not expecting them to know each other. Ada couldn’t help but roll her eyes as the blonde gave her a suspicious once over.

“Yeah, thanks Lucy.”

Lucy nodded at her door, Ada’s key still stuck in the lock.

“Give it a shove with your shoulder when you turn the lock, the doors in this building stick.”

With that, Lucy turned and rejoined her friend on the landing. The woman shrugged off Lucy’s searching hand, hissing something over her shoulder that the rain still lashing the windows just barely drowned out. As she gave her lock another turn and shoved her weight behind it, Ada couldn’t help but laugh as a few English curses drifted down the stairs.

———

After stripping her wet clothes off, spending far too much time under the blistering spray of the shower, and a cup of tea, she finally settled onto her love seat and pulled her phone out. She couldn’t help the smile that was blooming across her face just like the warmth in her chest from her tea, as she checked her messages.

Andrine had sent some silly gifs wishing her luck for her first day with the team. There was even one from the infamous Friends scene, about pivoting the couch up the stairs. Luckily, the club had ensured the apartment was furnished, so she didn’t have to struggle with getting furniture up the narrow stairwell. Andrine knew this as well, but the gif was more of a throwback to their time in Norway, when they had practically killed each other trying to move into their first apartment together.

There were a few messages from her Norwegian teammates, and a slightly embarrassing yet greatly appreciated throwback picture from Caro. She started to tap out replies, and searched around for the most ridiculous gifs and memes to send back to her sister. Just as she was finishing her tea, a message that sent her smile into a full blown grin came through.

TB: Hey, how’d the first day go?

Ada: Well, it was a day.

TB: Yeah? Everything okay?

TB: Wanna FaceTime?

Ada reins in her dopey smile and lets the call ring a few times before she picks up. Her boyfriend’s voice echoes through the apartment, filling the soaring space between floor and ceiling.

“So, what happened?” He plowed on, smile sharp. “Did you trip and faceplate when walking into the team meeting?”

She laughed, a tightness she hadn’t noticed unraveling in her chest. “Pretty much, but the I’ve got to start at the coffee shop for you to really appreciate the shit show that was my day.”

He echoed her laugh and motioned for her to continue. As she started the story, she couldn’t help but slide her kitchen chair over to her door and under the knob. Locked doors were a lot like headphones and a book. Most people didn’t take the hint.

Notes:

To answer some common questions from the comments, there is no update schedule, sorry to drop the organizational ball. The chapters are being written as ideas pop up, but I'm going to try to stick to posting them in a somewhat predictable pattern. I'm thinking the current Beth Mead and Danielle Van De Donk, Nahikari and Virgina, Lindsey Horan, and Ada Hegerberg and Dzsenifer Marozsan pattern will work well. There's a loose framework in place to bring all the individual stories together eventually, but the focus is more on the individual stories. Still toying with where and how to work Pernille and Magda in, haven't forgotten about them, promise.

Will do my best to answer all the comments soon. Thanks for the feedback and kudos, keeps the ideas flowing.

Chapter 5: Beth Mead and Danielle Van De Donk 2

Summary:

Where Beth stresses, Maro makes a quick appearance (sort of), and everything goes to hell. Being the new girl is hard and hashing out feelings is even harder.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The practice following their terrible game was downright brutal. Clearly, the coaching staff was not happy with their previous performance. By the third drill, Beth’s legs were shaking and Vivianne was splayed out on the sidelines, like a starfish. 

It was a quintessential English day, overcast, grey, and raining. Well, it was more of a mist than a rain. The dour weather, plus the drills, were taking a toll on the team’s morale. Kim was valiantly trying to keep their spirit’s up, but every time she tried to put a positive spin on things, Katie’s lip would curl and Leah failed to bite back a growl.

Beth wanted nothing more than to get Carla’s keys and drive back to the house so she could curl up under her comforter and hide in bed. This was all her fault. Every drill, while a punishment in disguise, was also a team building activity. The coaching staff was constantly pairing them up, or forming small groups and putting them through their paces. Beth wasn’t stupid. While she knew the coaching staff was upset about the poor play they demonstrated at the game, the real problem was how she confronted her teammate on the field and lost her cool.

Arsenal prided itself on being a cohesive, professional group. The club wouldn’t tolerate infighting, especially highly publicized infighting during a game before a large crowd. This practice was a reminder that they were expected to work together and keep the bitching to a minimum, or there would be consequences.

Those aforementioned consequences seemed as if they would keep coming if this morning, practice, or the weather were anything to go by. Usually, Beth and her housemates headed over to the stadium together each morning, even though Daan took forever and a day to get ready. This morning, they had awoken to find Daan’s bed empty and cold, Dom’s car gone, and the last banana missing. Daan had somehow managed to shower and slip out of the house without waking them, making it abundantly clear she was avoiding them, or more specifically, avoiding Beth.

She had thought they were good now, apologies had been said, but Daan’s early flight from the house was an obvious indicator that everything wasn’t peachy. Dom had been sullen and moody all through breakfast, and even Anna had been giving Beth some side eye at the table. 

When they had gotten to the stadium, Kim had leveled her with a look that could have frozen hell over. Clearly, the captain was aware things were not great and that Daan had slipped out early in the morning. Beth had put her head down, and quickly changed, trying and failing to block out her teammates grumbling about the bad game and the ass kicking they’d be getting from the coaching staff because of it.

Why’d she have to go and be an ass and pick a fight with Daan at the game?

Speaking of Daan, the Dutch woman was currently fussing with her hair and glaring up at the grey sky. If Beth wasn’t mistaken, she could just make out the hint of a snarl emanating from Daan’s chest. Beth didn’t understand her. They were at practice, three drills in, what did it matter if her hair wasn’t perfect?

Of everyone on the team, Daan was by far the most concerned with her appearance. Even Leah didn’t take as long as Daan to get ready, and that was saying something.

Finally deciding it was a lost battle, Daan stopped redoing her ponytail and grabbed a water bottle. She made her way over to Vivianne, who was still laying on the ground, and poked the toe of her boot into the forward’s side. Vivianne made a half hearted swipe at Daan’s leg. Daan laughed and said something in Dutch, which caused Vivianne to flip her off. 

As she was turning away, Daan aimed the water bottle at her teammate’s face and doused her. She raced away across the pitch, laugh turning into a shriek as Vivianne scrambled to her feet and chased her. How they had the energy to run about the pitch like fools after the last drill was a mystery to Beth. 

“Hey, Meado.”

Beth turned and couldn’t help but smile a little when Jordan sidled in next to her and tossed an arm around her shoulders.

“Try not to let the practice get to you. We all played like shit and wanted to rip each others throats out at the last game.”

“Yeah, but I’m the only one who actually threw a fit and tried to rip someone’s throat out.”

Jordan snorted and stepped away, hands on her hips. “That half ass row you failed to finish with DVD was not a fit. Remember that game against the US when Lucy got called for the foul? Now that, was a fit.”

Beth laughed and shoved Jordan’s shoulder. She looked out across the pitch, where Daan and Vivianne were still chasing one another. Every so often, when she came within range, Daan would squirt a stream of water at Vivianne. Her aim was terrible, but the fact that she was still trying to douse Vivianne was enough to make the forward continue chasing her national teammate.

“She woke up early and slipped out of the house this morning. She’s avoiding me, but I apologized last night and thought we were good now.”

Perhaps it was the sorry look on her face, or her miserable tone that made Jordan press close and pull her into a side hug. Jordan’s scent, clean and familiar like sheets fresh off the laundry line, washed over her. 

“It’ll work itself out Meado, not much more you can do.”

She sighed, letting herself lean against Jordan. “I know, but it’s just…”

The sentence trailed away from her. The chatter of the other girls filled the space, everyone taking advantage of the water break to gossip and grumble about the practice. Jordan gave her another minute to finish the thought, and then finished it for her when it was clear she wasn’t going to say it. 

“Being the new girl on the team is always hard, but you’re Beth Mead, you’ll settle right in. You just can’t force it. If she,” Jordan gestured to Daan who was still zigzagging her way across the pitch and out of Vivianne’s grasp, “wants to be weird about it, let her. Alphas always have their heads up their asses, even more so when they’re in rut.”

Beth huffed a half hearted laugh. “Learned all that by helping Leah out during her last few ruts?”

Jordan growled at her playfully and pushed her out of the side hug. She stumbled a bit, her legs still shaky from the drills. Beth knew Jordan was still thrown off when people mentioned her relationship with Leah. The Lionesses had given them a hell of a ribbing the last camp, and while Leah brushed it all off with a sharp smile, Jordan had been as red as her Arsenal jersey.

“Piss off, Meado.”

Jordan grabbed her hands and tried to pull her close so she could ruffle Beth’s hair. Beth kept Jordan at bay, making kissy faces and noises so ridiculous, she had them both laughing in seconds.

In the middle of the pitch, Vivianne had finally caught Daan, arms wrapped in a bear hug around the smaller woman. Daan thrashed, tossing the water bottle to the ground and clawing at the long sleeve jersey Vivianne had put on this morning. Lacking the height advantage and restrained, Daan couldn’t do anything but howl in indignation as Vivianne dragged them both to the ground.

Jordan shivered as Daan’s scream of rage echoed across the training ground. Beth squeezed her fingers tight, and concentrated on wrapping them both in pheromones that weren’t as grey and dour as her mood, or the weather. Jordan flashed her a small smile, the beginning of a blush blooming high on her cheeks.

Not for the first time, Beth couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must be to be so attuned to and easily affected by alphas. Granted, even as a beta, she wasn’t immune to an alpha’s dominance or rage, but omegas had it hard. To always have a voice in the back of your head urging you to back down and submit must be agonizing. 

Seeing an opportunity to add to the chaos that was the howling tangle of Vivianne and Daan, Mitch raced over and grabbed the discarded water bottle. She took the cap off and dumped the contents over both Daan and Vivianne’s heads. Knowing she was screwed, Mitch took off at a full sprint before the last drops of water hit the two alphas. Stunned and probably horrified that her makeup was running (Dann not Vivianne) the two women laid on the pitch for a second, scuffle forgotten.

With a mixed garble of shrieked Dutch and English expletives, Daan and Vivianne scrambled to their feet and raced after Mitch, who was hurtling toward the sideline, where the majority of the team had congregated. Kim was already rushing to the front of the group, arms waving, like she was trying to wave off a plane from landing.

“Don’t bring your trouble to us Mitchy!” Katie tossed the towel she had wrapped around her shoulders at the rapidly approaching Scot.

Manuela grabbed her gloves and jogged away toward the goal the keepers had been using for drills. Sensing things were about to become an all out brawl soon, Beth and Jordan started to edge away from the group as well. 

Lisa, who was doubled over and practically cackling, had to wipe a few tears before she yelled out to Mitch. “Run, Might, run!”

Kim was saved from refereeing a war by the coach’s whistle. Despite the promise of more ass kicking, the team was all to happy to abandon their water bottles and take up positions along the end of the pitch. There was a brief scuffle between Daan and Mitch, which ended with a shove and Mitch on her ass. Another sharp whistle halted any retaliation and had everyone fixing their eyes forward.

Beth couldn’t help but glance out of the corner of her eye as Daan made a space for herself, right at her side. Weren’t they avoiding each other? 

Their arms brushed briefly, and Beth was taken aback by how hot Daan’s skin was. She felt as if she had a fever. Beth must have pulled away in surprise, because Daan glanced at her. Brown eyes so dark her pupil would drown in them if not for the red rim, Daan regarded her with an almost sheepish expression. She tucked her arms close to her body and leaned subtly away from Beth.

Slightly horrified at having offended Daan, Beth tuned out whatever coach was currently saying and tried to lay a hand on her arm to catch her attention and apologize. God, she just kept fucking up when it came to her. Daan fixed her with a guarded look, and growled so low, that Beth wouldn’t have heard it if they hadn't been standing so close.

Beth took the hint and backed off, glueing her eyes straight ahead and holding herself impossibly still. She’d move away if she could, but taking a new spot on the line would just call attention to the squabble and probably make Daan more upset.

Another whistle cut through her thoughts and she couldn’t help but groan as the team started forward as one.

Sprints.

The coaching staff wasn’t bothering to hide the fact that they were just punishing them now. To add insult to injury, the mist that had been hanging in the air all morning chose that exact moment to become rain.     

 

———

 

Lunch, like the morning practice before the water bottle fight, was quiet and subdued. Everyone was too tired and sore to do anything more than eat. Waking up tomorrow was going to hurt, and they hadn’t even hit the gym yet. The rain was still falling and the field would be waterlogged and treacherous in another fifteen minutes. If only the rain had started falling sooner, maybe they could have escaped sprints.

Surprisingly, no one was complaining about the practice…much. Beyond the eye rolling, cut off growls, and the rare dirty look, the girls hand’t voiced their complaints. Even Daan, who HATED running, hadn’t made a peep during sprints. It all just made Beth want to sink into the floor and disappear so much more.

Being the new girl on the team was hard enough, why’d she have to go and make it more difficult for herself?

She was pulled out of her miserable thoughts when Jordan nudged her and nodded at Leah, who was sitting across the table from them. 

“As I was saying,” Leah took a bite of chicken and chewed thoughtfully, “who’d you think won’t make the cut for this upcoming training camp?”

The Lionesses were holding a three day training camp over at Saint George’s in a few days. They didn’t have any games coming up, but they’d been gaining more recognition as of late. With an Olympic year rapidly approaching, they needed to ensure they stayed in tip top shape. 

Beth had done her best to avoid thinking about the training camp. She’d had a poor showing at the last international friendly. Her touches had been heavy, her passes easily intercepted, and she found herself being subbed off before halftime. After the friendly, she had thrown herself into training, and Arsenal had taken notice. Long story short, an offer had been made, she signed some papers, and then she was packing her bags and heading off to what was supposed to be her ticket to the next level. To better showings in the three lions kit.

However, she hadn’t played in the first two games of the season, and when she had managed to earn a starting spot, Arsenal and Beth had played like shit. Topping off the poor performance was her fight with Daan, and she just knew Phill would hold that outburst against her. The Lionesses were professional, on and off the pitch, above all else. Phill wouldn’t waste his breath calling in a player who was picking fights with her club teammates.

“Earth to Beth,” Leah waved her hand before her and caused her to jump, “do you need me to repeat the question?”

“Sorry,” Beth ran her hand through her hair, “I’m doing my best to not think about the camp.”

Leah frowned at her, fork halfway to her mouth. “What? Why?”

Beth pursed her lips and looked down at her plate. No answers jumped out from her half eaten chicken breast or the green beans that she had taken one too many of. She shrugged her shoulders and glanced back up at Leah. 

Leah put her fork down and pushed her plate to the side. She put a little too much force into her push, and sent her plate careening into Katie’s. To her credit, Katie didn’t start a food fight, but she did take Leah’s plate and emptied it onto her own.

“Beth,” Leah leaned forward, elbows on the table, lost meal forgotten, “you have got to let that game against Germany go.”

“I know, I know,” She ran her hand through her still damp hair again, playing with the ends, “but I just…”

“See the ghost of Marozsan orchestrating our doom every time you try to force yourself to forget?”

Beth glanced over at Jordan, slightly concerned by her dire tone. Even Leah looked surprised.

“Damn Jor,” Leah flicked a piece of rolled up napkin at her girlfriend, “where the hell did that come from?”

Jordan slammed her fork down and Beth edged away from her. “She just infuriates me.”

“Who infuriates you?”

Daan slid in next to Jordan at the table and looked at them expectantly. Beth blinked at her in surprise, staring like an idiot. She had thought for sure that after the sprints incident Daan was going to avoid her like the plague. Yet, here she was was, popping in without a care in the world. The easy smile on Daan’s face began to slip as she noticed Beth staring at her over Jordan, who had put her head down on her folded arms.

“Sorry, I’ll-” Daan made to move, but Leah motioned for her to sit.

“Stay, you’re fine.” Leah shot Beth a glare as she slid Jordan’s plate of food closer and started to pick at it. “Ignore Beth’s awkward staring.”

Beth spluttered at Leah, taken aback. She could feel the burn of a blush making its way up from her chest and to her cheeks as Leah gave her a sly grin and read Daan into their conversation.

“She’s like a harbinger of doom.” Jordan mumbled into her arms as they got back to the topic of Dzsenifer Marozsan being infuriating. 

Daan laughed and flicked a green bean into Jordan’s hair. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jordan sat up, brushed the green bean from her hair, and tried to throw it back at Daan. Beth grabbed her wrist before she could retaliate and knocked the vegetable to the floor. 

“Stop, you throw that back at her and you’ll start a food fight.” Beth said.

Daan stuck her tongue out at her and pushed the food on her plate around. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah,” Leah started to toss bits of Jordan’s lunch at her, “lighten up Bethany.”

She growled at Leah and grabbed for Jordan’s plate. Leah tried to hold the plate above her head, but Jordan got involved in the tussle and half the food ended up on the floor.

“C’mon guys, that’s my lunch!” Jordan plopped back down onto the bench, plate held close to her chest.

Leah was trying to shake chicken from her hair and Beth was doing her best to sweep all the bits of food strewn across the table into a pile with her napkin. Daan was giggling into her hand as Leah whined about her hair and Jordan pouted at her more than half empty plate. 

A green bean bounced off Beth’s temple and she froze, leaning across the table. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Jordan, who shook her head furiously and gestured to Daan. The Dutch woman was still pushing her food around, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter as she purposefully kept her eyes glued to her plate. 

Beth hesitated for half a heart beat and then set her jaw. She grabbed a handful of the food she had been sweeping into a pile and flung it at Daan. The entire lunchroom came to a standstill. Leah was staring at Beth open mouthed, expression slightly horrified. Jordan’s eyes were as wide as her plate and she leaned back slightly, trying to move out of the line of fire.

Daan was as still as a statue. Bits of chicken and green beans fell from her hair and onto her shoulders. The whole room was holding their breath, waiting to see how she would react. She looked up through her lashes, the dark red rimming her pupils a sharp contrast against the brown of her eyes. Beth had to fight back the urge to shiver, and waited, frozen.  

The grin hit her after the chicken. Daan had used her fork to catapult the food at her face, and Beth, still rooted to the spot by Daan’s gaze, couldn’t bring herself to move out of the way. The smile Daan sported when the chicken struck her right between the eyes was blinding, and infuriating. Beth tipped Jordan’s plate into Daan’s lap, causing the other woman to shriek. The room then broke out into chaos, all the girls getting into the fray and making it a proper food fight.

Needless to say, the coaching staff made them not only clean the lunchroom, but run an extra set of sprints in the pouring rain, soggy and slippery pitch be damned.

 

———

 

After the food fight and extra sprints, the rest of the day passed without incident. Lift was grueling, per usual, but it had always been Beth’s least favorite aspect of training. She much preferred cardio or skill drills to wasting away in the gym.

Daan had gone back to ignoring her when they hit the gym, and Beth couldn’t keep up with the hot and cold routine. If the other woman wanted to play games, let her. Beth didn’t have the time or the patience to puzzle out why they were fine and flinging green beans at each other one minute, and then acting like Daan didn’t understand or speak English the next.

Luckily, the rain had fizzled out, mist and all gone, by the time they had gotten to their break halfway through lift. The sun had even tried to break through the overcast cloud cover, and Beth was hopeful the pitch would dry out by tomorrow morning. Perhaps she could squeeze in a few low key skill drills on their recovery day. Do a little fine tuning and keep her mind off of the upcoming training roster for the Lionesses.

The team liked to chat during lift, and the upcoming training session was the main topic of conversation. Beth knew she was blood in the water, but she had some time to pull it together and impress Phill before the roster was announced.

 

———

 

“Where’s Daan?”

Beth glanced up from her phone and frowned at Dom. “No idea, is she still showering?”

They were in the club’s rec room, the Great British Backoff playing on the TV. Beth was curled up on one end of the big sectional sofa, Carla’s feet propped on her lap, her phone balanced on Carla’s shin. Lisa and Leah were facing each other on the opposite side of the couch discussing the pros and cons of the various pubs the team was thinking of posting up at tonight.

“No,” Dom played with a set of car keys and motioned to her wet hair, “I was the last one out and she hasn’t headed home because I’ve got my keys.”

Beth put her phone down and leaned forward. “Hey, Jor, Vivianne,” the two girls were sitting on the floor in front of the couch, eyes glued to the TV, “do either of you-”

Jordan shushed her rather loudly and rudely, waving at the TV. Beth rolled her eyes and shrugged at Dom, settling back against the couch.

“Have you checked the kitchen?” Beth made a throwing motion, “She did catapult most of her lunch at me today, perhaps she’s raiding the pantry?”

Dom smiled. “Serves you right for picking a fight with her.”

“I didn’t start it, I just finished it.” Beth exaggerated flipping her hair over her shoulder and the girls not glued to the TV laughed.

“Pitch.” 

Dom glanced down at Katie, who was laying on her stomach off to the side, two ice packs balanced on the back of her thighs. “Shit game, ass kicking at practice, and a rut? I’d be working out my frustrations still if I were her.”

“You’d be tangled in the sheets with Ruesha.” Kim swatted one of the ice packs off of Katie’s leg. “Bullshit to your I’d be on the pitch lie.”

Katie barked a laugh as Beth moved Carla’s legs and made to follow Dom out of the rec room.

“Hey, a workout is a workout, in bed or on the pitch.” Katie drawled.

Beth and Dom split up, Dom advising she’d check the pitch if Beth checked the gym. Dom wanted to head home and start getting ready for tonight. They had the day off tomorrow, a reward and an apology for today’s training session. Even though they were in season, the team still liked to head out on nights they could afford to stay up late and have a pint or two. Dom’s boyfriend was going to be swinging by too, so Beth understood the other woman’s antsy-ness to get going.

It was evident as Beth made her way down the hallway to the gym that Daan was not out on the pitch. Some Dutch song was blaring from the gym’s sound system, the double doors to the weight room barely muffling the music. Beth swore the she could feel the door vibrating as she pushed it open.

The weight room, despite the open windows, was stifling. Beth felt like Daan’s scent was suffocating her. Every pull of air was clawing its way down Beth’s throat and into her lungs. Daan’s scent burned, like dry kindling, and her quick temper. 

One summer, a fishing boat had caught fire halfway out of port in Whitby, and the flames had spread to the top of the water too as the gas and oil leaked out. Neither the waves nor the fire boats’ hoses had been able to quench the flames quickly, and the boat burned for half the day. Even far away on the docks, the air had burned and crackled with heat as the wind off the water drove the smoke in. Beth felt like she was back in Whitby, but this time, instead of being on the docks, she was standing on the deck of the burning ship.

The pure, maddening, teeth grinding frustration pouring off Daan had Beth biting her lip. She tried to wrestle some control back, her instincts short circuiting, but Beth knew it was a lost battle. As if her scent wasn’t distracting enough, Daan had stripped down to her sports bra. The green Arsenal t-shirt she preferred to wear during lift was tossed over a bench. Beth couldn’t help but stand dumbfounded in the doorway as Daan completed a set of pull ups across the room. 

If she could think straight, or breathe, Beth would be more than embarrassed with how captivated she was by watching the muscles in Daan’s back and arms flex. 

The door to the weight room banged shut behind her, hitting her in the ass and knocking some sense into her. Beth thanked whatever powers were listening for the loud Dutch music that muffled the door closing and began to edge her way into the weight room. The hair along her arms was standing up straight. She felt like she was waiting for someone to jump out and scare her, some primal instinct buried deep in the back of her head chiming a warning bell.

She tried to catch Daan’s attention through the mirror, but the alpha was far too focused. Beth even waved her arms like a fool, but Daan just completed another pull up. Instincts screaming at her to not get any closer (and not wanting to startle Daan in this state like she had done last night), Beth took a seat on the bench Daan had tossed her shirt on. The green material was dark, drenched with sweat. 

Daan must have stayed in the weight room once the team had been dismissed from lift. She thrived in the gym, unlike Beth who despised weight training. However, there was a fine line between enjoying a form of exercise and over doing it, especially when a poor performance was sitting bitter in the back of your mind. Leah would have accused her of settling in to watch the show, but Beth was rationalizing her rapt attention on Daan’s form as being a concerned teammate.

What if she over worked herself and got hurt?

The muscles along Daan’s arms were beginning to shake. Her movement, which had been fluid and measured the first few pulls, was becoming staggered and halting. She was starting to struggle, her grip strength waning. Sweat was rolling down her back, her sports bra soaked through and dark against the pale skin of her chest. Beth watched as Daan engaged her core, her arms flexed, and the muscles of her back rolled with the effort and motion of pulling her chin up to the bar. 

A breath away from the bar, Daan kicked a leg out as she fought to complete the pull up.  

It felt as if the sweltering heat in the room was increasing. A fire becoming an inferno. No matter how hard she tried, Beth couldn’t hold back the shiver that climbed from the base of her spine to the crown of her head. She felt light headed. 

Unconsciously, Daan was begging, no, not begging, demanding, everything, and anything in this room submit to her. If she wasn’t so dizzy and absurdly focused on trying not to gasp for air, Beth would have found it funny that the alpha was smothering weights in a sea of pheromones. However, she was currently putting her head between her knees in an attempt to get ahold of herself and her racing heart.

Christ. Why did it feel like she was trying to breathe while the air was on fire?

That instinct, which had been ringing a warning bell earlier, was now howling at her. It had given up on ringing the warning bell and was now just hurling the bell at the inside of her skull over and over again. She had managed to sit up, but had to wrap her arms around her torso and found that she was hunching her shoulders.

The alpha’s frustration and fury at being frustrated was palpable. Beth could taste it on her tongue, like a burnt piece of meat.

Just as she was working up the courage to approach Daan so she could make this all stop, Daan dropped down from the bar. The Dutch music continued to make the room shudder, its beat matching the pounding of Beth’s heart. She was still drowning in furious pheromones, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. It felt as if her heart was pumping out a message to the rest of her body with every quick beat, danger, danger, danger. 

Daan stretched, clasped fingers reaching for the ceiling. Beth’s eyes traced the lines of Daan’s body as she eased out of the stretch, the alpha dropping her arms and rolling her shoulders. Beth could just pick out the subtle shake in her legs and the twitch of a strained muscle in her arm. Sweat continued to roll down her back, and Beth couldn’t help but think of how feverish Daan had felt out on the pitch. She had to be sweltering in this room.

Daan turned slightly toward her, shaking her hair out of the ponytail she had been sporting and wrapping it into a bun. Beth chose that moment to do the dorkiest thing ever and gave a small wave, despite an angry voice in her head telling her she was an idiot. 

Suddenly, Daan froze, hair slipping between her still fingers.

Something small and terrified begged Beth not to move. 

That instinct with the bell maybe? 

Absently, she wondered if this is what rabbits felt like when a hound or some other predator spotted them. She folded her arms tightly against her chest again and held her breath as Daan dropped her arms and turned toward her fully. As she squared up, Daan cocked her head to the side, but something was off about the movement. It was too quick, almost feral.

Beth couldn’t choke back the plaintive whine that bubbled up and out of her throat. She felt sick and trapped. Her chest hurt, Daan’s scent still burning a hole in her lungs. Everything was starting to go a bit fuzzy, almost as if she could see the waves of heat shimmering around Daan and her feverish skin. The alpha’s pheromones were doing a number on her and the fact that Daan had speared her with a look was not helping.

She hunched her shoulders a bit more and tucked her chin down. Usually, making herself seem smaller appeased alphas hell bent on forcing anything in a ten mile radius to submit. The pitiful whine, which she despised, tended to be icing on the cake. Neither the traitorous sound or valiant attempt she was making at folding into herself were working on Daan. Actually, they seemed to have the opposite effect.

Daan snarled, and Beth couldn’t help but think of deck boards snapping beneath the weight of flames. Not even the music, which was shaking the bench she was sitting on, could drown out the sound of Daan’s fury or her voice.

“How long have you been sitting there Meado?!”

The nickname brought a brief reprieve from the haze Beth was drowning in. Since when did anyone outside the Lionesses call her Meado? It startled her more than Daan’s snarl had, but she still could do nothing more than blink in surprise at Daan.

Red drowning out dark brown.

That primal instinct was back and it was chewing her out for making eye contact with an alpha in rut who was currently yelling at her. The warning bell was now bouncing around in her head like the early Windows screen saver. She focused her gaze on Daan’s Nikes, but they were blurring together with the black mat flooring. Beth felt like she was in primary school again, so infuriated and confused that tears were stinging her eyes.

The music cut out, and absently she realized Daan had moved away to grab her phone. The knowledge that Daan was no longer bearing down on her seemed to bring some clarity to Beth’s aching head.

“Sorry, I-” Holy shit. All thought ceased as Daan’s scent hit her tongue and scorched the back of her throat.

Beth tried to stop the whine, but only managed to bite it back after a muffled cry bounced off the weight room’s walls. The sound made her cringe.

“Beth.”

It was a command, hard as stone and sharp as a razor. 

Against her will, Beth’s chin untucked from her chest and she glanced over at Daan. Like the good, submissive beta she was supposed to be, Beth let her eyes land on Daan and then fall away. That instinct that had been ping ponging off the inside of her skull sighed in relief.

“Beth.”

What the hell, she wanted to yell at the alpha toying with her. I’m doing exactly what you want, fuck off, please. This time, when Beth slid her gaze back to Daan, it stuck. 

Beth found herself staring not because she was trying to be defiant, which, her mother and previous boyfriends would tell you is how she always was, but because she was surprised. So surprised, even the annoying instinct that liked to dress her down for things like this was silent.

Daan was about fifteen or so feet from her, and kneeling. She was next to the outlet that her phone had been plugged into, one knee resting against the black mat floor. When Beth’s eyes stayed glued to her, she gave a very small, closed lipped smile. A muscle ticked in her jaw, and Beth braced herself for another snarl. However, Daan continued to surprise her by murmuring something in Dutch, though her voice was low and just a tad bit dangerous still.

The weight room was still stifling, and Daan’s scent was crackling in her lungs like flames, but Beth no longer felt a pounding ache at the base of her skull.

Slowly, Daan raised her hands and painstakingly wound her hair into the bun she had been working on before. She was exaggerating the motions a bit, making a show of her bare throat. The lack of a shirt was helping, as her sports bra didn’t cover much beyond her chest.

Beth’s fists unclenched from where they had wound into her shirt. She even thought she had found her voice, but when she opened her mouth, the words wouldn’t form. Well, at least she was no longer pathetically whining. Small victories.

Having secured her bun, Daan folded her arms loosely over the leg she had bent in front of her. She gave Beth another small, closed lipped smile, conscious of how a flash of teeth would be interpreted right now.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you before.” Daan bit her bottom lip, and tried to bring her voice up a few octaves, away from the dangerous lit it currently held. She was failing miserably, but Beth, and her shattered nerves, appreciated the effort.

“You startled me, and I didn’t mean to startle you in return. You’re not in trouble Beth. And I didn’t mean to…didn’t want to make you feel like…like you had to…” Daan snarled and Beth froze mid breath. “Shit. Sorry, I’m sorry. I thought I was alone in here, and just needed to…to work through…”

While the snarl had derailed some of the progress they were making, the rambling was endearing. 

Daan clenched her jaw, that small muscle twitching again. She seemed to be counting to three, trying to calm herself down. As she forced an almost exaggerated breath out, Beth couldn’t help but fidget. Daan’s eyes snapped back to her, that too quick reaction that made Beth’s heart skip a beat.

The awkward silence they found themselves in stretched out, filling the space more than the blaring music had. Beth knew the signals she was giving off. Every nerve ending felt raw and exposed. She may have stopped whining, and her chin wasn’t tucked into her chest any longer, but her shoulders were still hunched. Judging by the way Daan’s gaze was devouring her, Beth could only assume her scent was maddeningly submissive at the moment.

Suddenly, the tears were back. Hot, insistent pin pricks behind her eyes that Beth wasn’t sure she could hold back any longer. She felt humiliated, and about a thousand other emotions she just couldn’t sort through and name right now.

Daan shook her head and murmured in Dutch again. “Beth, you’re okay. Try to…shit, I don’t know, I was going to say breathe but I know my scent is not helping right now. Shit.” She broke off into a few stuttered Dutch phrases, tone still low and dangerous.

A shiver wracked her frame, and Beth grabbed ahold of the edge of the bench. She refused to let the tears fall, but lost the fight of keeping her chin held high and untucked from her chest.

“Meado.” 

Beth glanced up at Daan, teeth sunk into her cheek so hard she could taste blood. She managed to hold Daan’s gaze for a second, but then lost her nerve and had to look away.

“Beff,” Daan spoke firmly in Dutch, that phrase she had been repeating through this whole interaction, “Beth Mead. You don’t have to submit to me. You’re my teammate. We’re equals. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I…I thought I was alone…and I…I thought I could…could cut loose for a bit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…to make you feel like you have to…to force you to…”

Beth forced herself to straighten her shoulders and sit up. It felt as if her muscles had turned to cement, every movement slow and staggered. The ache had returned to the base of her skull, pulsing in time with her heart beat. She watched Daan warily, but the alpha didn’t show her teeth or snarl at her. Daan did mumble something in Dutch again, but Beth forced that primal instinct to shut up and took her chances with the mumble.

“Dom wants to head home so she’s got time to get ready for her boyfriend after you’ve used all the hot water.”

Beth hated how small her voice sounded, how it caught when she mentioned Daan, but she choked back the tears.

Daan nodded and made a point of breaking eye contact first. It helped to ease some of the frustration and fear boiling inside of Beth.

“Guess I should move my ass then.” Daan whispered.

She stood slowly, one hand out in a calming gesture, like what you would do if facing a skittish wild animal. 

It irked Beth a little, even though she still felt light headed and wound so tight she may snap like a rubber band. Pressing a firm, figurative boot to the throat of that primal instinct, she forced some steal into her numb legs and stood. Beth ignored the trembling in her knees and how the air still hurt to breathe. She grabbed Daan’s shirt, which, in hindsight, was kind of gross considering it was soaked in sweat, and took what she hoped was a confident step forward to hand it over.

Daan glanced over at her in surprise, and Beth would be lying if she said she didn’t stumble just a bit. However, she forced herself to close the distance between her and Daan. When she did reach the alpha, the other woman was careful to move slowly as she reached for the shirt.

“You really do need to move your ass, otherwise Dom may just kick it into gear.” Beth had to clench her teeth, jaw aching with the effort, to hold Daan’s gaze.

A sound rumbled up from Daan’s chest and Beth glanced away, still jumpy. Daan mumbled the same Dutch phrase she had been saying before, and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly, the air whistling a bit through her teeth. Beth chanced a quick look at her, eyes still lowered and looking up through her lashes.

Daan was stock still, that same, terrifying freeze and tensing of muscle that made Beth feel like a cornered rabbit and Daan a wolf unsure on how it wanted to grab her.

Fuck her. What had she done wrong this time?

Beth edged back a bit, and decided she was tired of playing cat and mouse. She was hot, her throat hurt, and the frustration that had been building through this entire interaction was tearing her nerves to shreds. Screw that instinct and its warning bell, she wanted to be done and go home.

She growled and curled her lip at Daan, though her growl lacked its usual bite. Despite the weak lash out, she may as well have backhanded the alpha based on her reaction.

Daan choked mid breath and flinched away. She held her ground, but she rocked back on her heels like Beth had landed a punch squarely to her jaw. The pheromones in the room swelled again, but rather than consuming her like a hungry fire, they washed against her like a scalding shower after a long practice. 

Beth could feel the tension that had been keeping her still and folded small earlier melt away. The steal she had forced into her numb legs was beginning to fail, shattering apart like brittle iron. She found herself swaying toward Daan, everything gone hazy and unsteady again. As her hand connected with the burning skin of Daan’s upper arm, Beth gasped.

When had she stepped into the alpha’s space?

“Daan?” At least Beth’s whine formed itself into a word this time. It made it slightly less embarrassing, but only slightly.

Daan murmured to her in Dutch again, voice gone soft and into that dangerous, low range. 

“Sorry, I’m…I’m trying to help, but I don’t think I’m doing such a great job.” Daan removed the hand Beth had placed on her upper arm, but kept ahold of it and tugged her forward. “C’mon, let’s get out of this room. I’m sorry I’m driving you crazy.”

Beth blinked and realized as Daan was opening the door to the weight room that she had been trailing after the alpha, head foggy and vision a little blurry at the edges. Daan’s pheromones were still washing over her, invading her senses and making her limbs feel heavy. She balked at the open door, horrified she’d blindly followed.

Daan let her hand slip free and leaned against the door, keeping it open. Her posture was poor, almost sinking into herself. She kept her eyes downcast and stance loose, if a bit forced, as Beth tried to process everything that had just happened.

“Don’t do that again.” Beth stated. Her voice was quiet, but firm.

Daan looked up at her. “I won’t, I promise.”

Beth wasn’t sure what she was referring to, or what Daan had agreed to not do again. The forced submission, or the weird, foggy, in between state that had her stumbling after the alpha like a rat after the Pied Piper?

All of it was terrifying, and had goosebumps breaking out along Beth’s arms. She desperately wanted to slink away. To collapse and cry until the ache in her throat was from tears and not Daan’s scent. 

Rapid fire Dutch burst the bubble they had existed in. Daan jumped up, startled, and Beth took the opportunity to slip out the door and past her. Dom was stalking down the hallway, furious.

“Can we get going please? At this rate we may as well go to the pub in our kits.”

Beth was able to hold back the tears long enough to grab her things from the rec room, but as she went back into the hallway, the floodgates opened. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and she found herself rushing to get out of the building. Once outside, she forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths, despite how her chest shook with barely contained sobs.

Luckily, she wasn’t sick to her stomach, yet. However, she was sure the humiliation would make her ill once she let herself process what the fuck had just happened.

She managed to pull it together by the time she reached the parking lot. Carla and Anna, too busy discussing what they were going to wear out, didn’t pay much mind to how quiet she was on the ride home. Beth had never been very concerned with her appearance, so the fact that she wasn’t contributing much to the current conversation wasn’t odd. However, Beth did catch Anna sending a few, furtive looks her way in the rearview mirror.

Beth was sure there would be a heart to heart later, but she wasn’t sure if she could get through it without breaking down completely.

 

———

 

Not only were they some of the first of the team to arrive at the pub, but they even had time to shower and change into something other than their kits. 

Per usual, Daan had taken FOREVER to get ready. Despite being one of the first to shower, the alpha had spent at least an hour fussing over her makeup, and even longer with her hair. She had puttered around upstairs, from her room to the bathroom her and Dom shared, brushes and powders seeming to appear out of thin air.

Beth had stared dumbfounded at her, the weight room briefly forgotten, as Daan had fought with Dom for control of the bathroom mirror. The argument had quickly deteriorated into hissed Dutch insults, and somehow, someway, Dom had managed to win and kicked Daan out of the bathroom. The alpha then proceeded to whine and bang on the door, wearing nothing but a pair of sweats and a lacy black bra. After a few minutes, Dom had relented and let her back in.

Apparently, the light in the bathroom was far superior to the light in the hall, were the girls had hung a full length mirror. 

After checking with Anna and Carla as to what they were going to wear, Beth had settled on a black t-shirt and light wash skinny jeans. Classic and simple. They were just going to a neighborhood pub after all.

Perhaps, if confronted, and tortured, Beth would have admitted to picking something simple so she could escape from upstairs and hide in the den, far away from Daan. The alpha had tried to approach her on a few occasions once they got back to the house, but Beth wasn’t ready to discuss what the hell had happened in the weight room. So, she grabbed the first clean shirt and pair of jeans in her drawer, ran a brush through her hair, and then spent a few hours hiding in the den. She knew you didn’t solve problems by hiding from them, but Beth simply wasn’t ready to confront the five foot three inch elephant in the room just yet.

Plus, she was a little nervous about tonight, as this was her first un-official official outing with Arsenal. There would be no coaching staff to impress or to supervise them. The girls would be able to cut loose, within reason, and get to know each other a bit better.

Hopefully, she could make a better impression on some of the girls. It wasn’t a secret that a few people were frustrated with her, and she really couldn’t blame them. She’d be just as irritated if some new girl walked onto her team and started rocking the boat.

As they walked into the pub, Dom elbowed Daan in the side. “Daantje, scan above the crowd and let me know if you see Brandon.”

Daan growled and gave the bottom of Dom’s shirt a tug. Dom yelped and slapped her hand away, adjusting the low cut top quickly.

“That joke is about as old as you are, get a new one.” Daan grumbled.

Carla frowned and glanced between Daan and Dom. “I thought Daan was older?”

“I am, but Dom’s the one who looks older.” The alpha threw them a sharp smile as she cut through the early evening crowd and toward the booth Vivianne and Lisa had grabbed.

Beth couldn’t help but flinch at the flash of Daan’s teeth, but forced a smile when Carla threw her a curious look. 

Dom snarled and made a swipe at Daan’s retreating form. She missed her by miles, and Anna’s uncontrolled giggles sent them all into a fit, though Beth felt like her laughter sounded a bit panicked. 

 

———

 

As the evening wore on, Beth’s nerves began to settle. The rest of the team had filtered in after their arrival, a mishmash of casual clothes and stylish looks. Leah, ever the fashionista, was wearing some complicated one shoulder top that had a few geometric cutouts along the side and back. It exposed enough skin to have heads turning toward their booth, but so far, no one had plucked up the courage to approach the rowdy group of players.

Beth had bought the team a round, and from the easy smiles and flurry of questions it produced, she knew she had finally gotten a win with the team. She couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the girls who had been reserved at practice made an effort to chat with her. Questions about Whitby and her time at Sunderland had helped to further settle the butterflies twisting in her stomach. The fact that Daan was at the other table certainly did not play a factor in her ability to finally take a deep breath or two. 

As the conversation continued, Katie seemed to really get a kick out of the fact that she used to be a barmaid back when she was still in university.

“You, a barmaid?” Katie shook her head and took a swig of her pint.

Beth laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I had to do something in the off season, and the owners of the pub were nice enough to sponsor me and the team. I figured it was only fair to pay them back for their generosity.”

“Well,” Lisa leaned forward with a mischievous smirk, “I know who we’re putting in charge of the drinks come the next house party.”

“Hey, is that a dig at my efforts from the last party you and Viv held?” Leah had her arms crossed and was pouting.

Lisa laughed, “No, tequila is always appreciated-”

“But how grumpy you are the following morning when you’re hungover is not.” Jordan finished with a grin.

Leah gasped and elbowed Jordan in the ribs. The team broke out into a fit of giggles and began to fill Beth in on some of the exploits from previous parties. Apparently, Arsenal was just as serious about having fun off the pitch as they were about the pranks they played on the pitch.

A handsome man in a leather coat cut through the crowd and made his way over to the two booths the team had squeezed into or around. Daan, ever the brat, refused to stand up so Dom could slide out of the booth. She managed to get a death grip on the edge of the table as Dom tried to shove her to the floor.

“What’s the magic word!” Daan sing song-ed at Dom.

With an exasperated sigh, Dom placed an exaggerated, loud kiss to Daan’s cheek, leaving a smear of red lipstick behind. Horrified at the invasion of her personal space, Daan yelped and wiped at her cheek, releasing her hold on the table’s edge. Dom crawled into Daan’s lap, placed another kiss on her forehead and swung herself out of the booth.

Daan grumbled something in Dutch, still wiping at her face while Mitch and Kim gave her a hard time about her ruined makeup. The man, whom Beth assumed must be Brandon, started to say hello but was cut short as Dom dragged him away from the team. The girls gave a chorus of greetings and catcalls, which Dom dutifully ignored. Brandon, to his credit, turned and gave them a parting wave as Dom led him to a quieter corner of the pub.

“DVD, you sleeping on the couch tonight or is she doing you a favor and going to his place?” Lia grinned over the rim of her glass.

Daan sniffed, still wiping at her face. “She’d better be going to his place because I’m planning on having some fun tonight.”

“Then you might as well leave the lipstick smears, it’ll only get worse as the night wears on.” Vivianne deadpanned.

The table laughed as Daan curled her lip at her national teammate and Vivianne waggled her eyebrows at her. Beth couldn’t help but watch Daan as she slid out of the booth and made her way to the washrooms in the back. The alpha had forgone a jacket when they’d left the house, despite Carla’s fussing. She was dressed in a palette of dark colors, probably trying to match that dark and dangerous cadence her voice took on when she was frustrated.

Unbidden, the tangle of emotions that had been twisting themselves into a knot since the weight room reared its ugly head. Beth’s knuckles were white around her glass, and she forced herself to take a deep breath in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Now was not the time and place to dwell on how Daan sounded when she was frustrated, or how furious her scent and dominance could be.

Someone poked her shoulder and she jerked to attention, startled.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Beth could feel the heat of a blush kissing her cheeks.

Tabea laughed and said something in German, then translated it for the table. “I said, are you planning on having some fun tonight too?”

Beth cursed her fair skin as her blush worsened. She was saved from answering by Jordan leaning forward and butting into the conversation.

“I thought you had a boyfriend back home, Meado?”

Scratch saved. Jordan unwittingly took her out at the knees.

Leah stole a sip of Jordan’s drink and frowned at the taste of the beer she had chosen. “Yeah, he was cute. Tall, dark hair, alpha. What was his name?”

Beth took a long swig of her pint. Yikes, where to start? The girls still in the booth had settled in for the details, all eyes expectantly turned toward her.

“We, uh,” she fiddled with her glass and glanced anxiously around the booth, “we broke up shortly after Sunderland’s promotion. Had a few rows about the game schedule and lack of free time.” Plus, a few other things, she couldn’t help but finish in her head.

Jordan frowned and rushed to offer an apology for bringing the topic up. A hand squeezed her shoulder and Beth turned to find Lisa reaching around Vivianne. Leah just shrugged and stole another sip from Jordan’s beer that made her wrinkle her nose.

“What about that girl from your university?”

Anna ignored the death glare Beth shot at her.

“Meado!” Leah wolf whistled and leaned forward. “You didn’t tell me about University Girl, do tell.”

Beth almost didn’t recognize herself when she answered Leah with, “You’ll have to be more specific, Engineering University Girl or Football Club University Girl?”

Leah grinned and the girls broke into a flurry of jests and questions. Everyone was giving her a hard time, or slapping her on the back. Anna was laughing so hard she was practically tearing up, and Beth couldn’t help but join in.

“Well,” Katie stood, and nodded at the table, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think Beth deserves another drink before she gives us all the dirty details. Anybody else want something from the bar?”

Leah perked up and shooed Jordan out of the booth so she could join Katie at the bar. As the two alpha’s pushed their way through the crowd, Anna and Jordan continued to grill her on the hook up and sort-of-more-than-a-hook-up Beth had at university. Tabea was getting a kick out of the mortifying blush burning across her chest and cheeks.

“Don’t let her tease,” Lia had paused at the booth on her way to the bar, one hand resting on Beth’s arm, “you should make her tell you the U-17 story.”

Tabea choked a bit on her drink, and Beth couldn’t help but share a conspiratorial look with Lia. 

“Oh, this sounds like its good.”

Lia laughed, her English slightly accented. “Hilarious, jokes for days. Isn’t that right Tabi?”

The German beta rolled her eyes, and glanced away from Beth and Lia, suddenly shy. Lia gave Beth a final smile and fought her way to the bar. 

“Soooo,” Beth drawled, looking pointedly at Tabea.

“You get the ball past me and score a goal at practice, then I’ll tell you.”

Beth readily agreed to Tabea’s terms, and the girls still at the booth went back to giggling over old hook ups. Halfway through the conversation, Tabea’s attention seemed to drift elsewhere. Beth subtly followed her gaze, and spotted Lia weaving her way over to Manuela and Mitch. Somehow, the girls had commandeered the dart board from some pub regulars. 

A lull in the conversation, and Carla’s sudden appearance to ditch her jacket, gave Tabea a window to slip away. Despite the ribbing she had gotten earlier, Beth got up without any prompting so the German could get out of the booth, and Tabea flashed her a small smile. Betas. Gotta stick together.

The hook up conversation blessedly fizzled out as Carla whisked Anna away, and Jordan checked something on her phone. The dull roar inside the pub was drowning out the whispered conversation Vivianne and Lisa were having, so Beth found herself people watching.

It had gotten busy, university students and locals from the neighborhood fighting for table space and to be heard over each others conversations. Dom and Brandon had somehow managed to grab a spot across the room, tucked away and close to the door. A group of guys had approached Carla and a few of the other girls, and Beth couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Carla tried to motion her over. 

At the bar, Daan was chatting with some girl, nodding along to whatever she was saying. The shadows seemed to swallow the alpha, the dark tank top and black jeans she was wearing blending with the gloom. Daan laughed, leaned forward to lay a hand on the girl’s arm, and smirked as the girl swayed into her space. Unbidden, a shiver wracked its way through Beth’s body, starting at the crown of her head and running all the way to her toes. She knew just how overwhelming Daan’s scent was, how her rut invaded every sense, and fogged your head.

Despite the distance between them, Beth’s chest constricted, her heart rate picking up. She found herself fidgeting with her empty pint glass, eyes restless and gaze avoiding the end of the bar. She growled under her breath, frustrated with how jumpy she still was. With a deep breath, she forced herself to look back over to the bar.

Daan leaned back, putting some space between her and the girl. She continued to listen attentively to whatever the girl was saying, eyes focused and head nodding every now and then. As the bartender passed by, Daan caught his attention and ordered herself and the girl another drink. She flashed a dazzling smile as the girl laid a quick, tentative hand on her thigh.

“Oi,” Beth startled for the second time that night and blinked up at Katie, “I can tell Viv and Lisa to budge over if you’d like an unrestricted view.”

Jordan laughed and Beth tried to hide her furious blush in her drink. She did slide further into the booth so Katie could sit. Beth tried to keep her attention on the conversation Jordan had started regarding Ruesha, Katie’s girlfriend, and how West Ham’s season was going, but her eyes kept gravitating back to the end of the bar.

Another girl had sidled in, and seemed to be a bit bolder than the one sitting at the bar. The new girl had a hand balanced on Daan’s bare shoulder, and Beth couldn’t help but think of practice and how feverish Daan’s skin was. Or the weight room, and watching her complete the set of pull ups. Daan seemed to be in her element, smile quick and easy, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two girls. 

“Viv, Lisa, scoot so I can go rescue Leah.” Jordan barely gave the two girls a second to start moving before she was pushing them up and out.

Beth looked over at the bar again and spotted Leah, the resting bitch face she had perfected over the years glued in place, some guy standing before her and gesturing animatedly. He seemed to be a lost sheep from the group of guys Carla, Leonie, and Anna had been talking to earlier. She easily had a few inches on the man, and Beth could see the moment she spotted Jordan cutting a path toward her. Her eyes seemed to light up and a smirk broke her stony facade. The man seemed to take that as encouragement and started to wave his arms a bit faster, beer sloshing out of his glass and over his hand.

Katie snorted a laugh and took a swig of her drink. Somehow, Lisa had prevented Vivianne from sliding back into the booth and was dragging her over to the Arsenal crowd that had gathered near the dart board. Vivianne glanced back over her shoulder forlornly at the booth, and Katie gave her a cheeky wave.

A man with sandy blond hair and an almost empty glass in his hand peeled off from the crowd. He made his way over to the booth Beth and Katie were in. It was clear from the set of his shoulders and confident stride that he was an alpha. They had a way of carrying themselves, so self assured and always needing to put on a show. 

Despite the wide, pleading eyes Beth threw at her, Katie got up from the booth. She saluted Beth with her pint and gave her a shit eating grin.

“Believe that’s my cue.”

Beth glared daggers at Katie’s back as she waded away into the crowd and left her all alone. She even had the audacity to give the man a nod as she walked by. Some teammate.

The man, either taken aback by Katie’s brazen acknowledgement or Beth’s sour look, hesitated a stride from the booth. Beth did her best to school her features into something a bit more neutral. Despite being an alpha, which his scent confirmed, the man seemed a little unsure.

“Sorry,” He gestured to her almost empty glass, she’d made some progress while Katie had babbled on about Ruesha, “was going to see if you wanted another, but I don’t want to be a bother.”

Ugh. Why were the nice ones always approaching her when she didn’t want someone to buy her a drink?

She smiled and slid the glass a bit closer to herself. “Thank you, but I’d better be done for the night.”

“Got an early start for work tomorrow?”

Beth leaned back, settling in and getting comfortable. The poor guy was trying, and he wasn’t being an ass about it, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a few minutes.

“No, but I shouldn’t add a hangover to my to do list for a recovery day.”

The man covered the final stride to the table and set his empty glass down. “Recovery day? So you’re an athlete. You play for a university or a league?”

“Used to play at university,” Beth didn’t like to tell people she played for Arsenal right off the bat, you never knew who would get weird about it, “but now I’m playing in a league.”

They traded questions for awhile, talking about the universities they had attended, how the local rugby and football clubs were doing. Jordan and Leah emerged from the crowd, making their way over to the girls still playing darts. As they walked behind Henry, Beth had learned his name a few questions ago, Jordan flashed her a thumbs up and Leah gave the poor guy an exaggerated once over from head to toe. Leah flashed a quick five at her and wrinkled her nose, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh as Jordan swatted her arm and pushed her away.

As she tried to drown the laugh with the last dregs of her pint, Henry frowned at her.

“Sorry, my mates are making fun.” Beth then flipped off Mitch and Katie who were making rude gestures from their seats behind the dart line.

Henry turned slightly to glance over his shoulder, and Beth could only stare, mortified, as almost half the team smiled and waved at him. Well, Leah just gave him an eyebrow raise and Mitch and Katie tried for cool, giving him one of those half nods, but the rest of the girls were grinning and waving. There was a beat of silence as Beth waited for the ground to open up and swallow her whole, before Henry turned back around with a shocked look on his face.

Oh, no. Here it comes.

Perhaps he had recognized Leah, Kim, or Manuela. Some of the girls, like Tabea and Lia, were not as easily recognized by the London public. Probably because they weren’t from the Isles, and didn’t garner as much scrutiny when they played regularly, unlike Manuela who really couldn’t hide from the fans or the press in goal.

“Shit,” Henry leaned back and regarded her, “you play for Arsenal. You weren’t joking when you said you played for a league.”

Beth blushed, and played with her empty glass. Her career as a footballer was always a bit of a sore subject. Everyone loved the idea of an athlete, loved to look at them and go at it with them in bed. But, they didn’t love everything else. The wonky schedule, distance, limited free time, hell, even their diets had been the source of an argument or two between her and past significant others.

“Yeah, first season with the Gunners.”

Henry nodded and smiled. “I know it’s poor form to talk about work outside of work, but you mind me asking what you think of the club? Meet your expectations or you wish you were in blue and playing for Chelsea?”

She set her glass down with a bit more force than was necessary. “Chelsea? For fuck’s sake mate, that’s not funny.”

“Sorry, I had to.” He laughed and sat forward again. “I’m just joking, promise. So, you sure I can’t convince you to stay for another-”

A glass of water, and a dangerous tone, cut Henry off. 

“She’s all set.”

Beth looked up to find Daan standing next to her. Heat was rolling off her in waves, and Beth thought again of the burning ship. She forced herself to stay where she was and not scoot away from the alpha. Despite the alcohol, and hours that had passed from the weight room incident, Beth’s stomach still bottomed out with shame and a bit of fear. Daan’s tank top was a little askew, and Beth was pretty sure that wasn’t the shade her lipstick had been when they left the house, yet, she was still intimidating.

Daan was staring Henry down, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Henry leaned back, trying to look nonchalant, but his clenched jaw and the surge of pheromones ruined the facade.

Alphas. Always getting into a pissing match with each other.

“You must be one of Beth’s teammates.” Henry’s tone, which up until this point had been friendly, had gone cold.

The air was growing hot, and heavy. Beth felt like she was back in the weight room, every breath clawing its way down her throat and crackling in her lungs. Daan smiled, the expression anything but friendly. The flash of her teeth and scent of her rut had Beth sitting up straight and going very still.

Dear God, please don’t let Daan start a brawl.

Henry regarded Daan for a beat, then another. With a snort he glanced away and looked back at Beth. 

Daan turned, putting her back to Henry and leaned her hip against the table. Christ. Did she live to piss people off? Beth prayed to whatever powers there were that Henry would not take the blatant dismissal as, well, a blatant and disrespectful dismissal.

As the full force of Daan’s gaze landed on her, Beth couldn’t help but fidget.

“Let me know when you want to head out.” Daan tipped her head over to the other side of the pub, where Dom and Brandon had disappeared to. “Dom and Brandon ducked out hours ago, and everyone else is starting to head out too.”

Beth glanced around the pub, confused. The crowd had thinned out considerably. Those who had congregated around the dart game, aka the embarrass Beth squad, had dispersed. Only Kim, Lia, and Tabea were left. Well, Lia seemed to be half asleep. She was curled into Tabea’s side, head on the German’s shoulder.

Wow, had she really been that engaged in conversation with Henry that she hadn’t noticed the team heading out or the time passing?

She was a little disappointed Carla and Anna had left without saying anything. Beth wasn’t looking forward to hashing out what happened in the weight room with Daan, let alone doing it buzzed and stuck in a car.

“Ugh, sure.” Beth glanced back at the bar, the girl who had seemed to be a little more reserved was still there, glaring daggers at her. It was always the quiet ones. “Or do you just want to leave the keys with me?”

Daan looked taken aback. That small, skittish part of Beth froze, and then scurried away to hide in the dark corner of her mind. Daan frowned, and Beth threw Henry a dirty look as he muffled a laugh into his fist.

“Just be careful driving home, please.” Daan slid Dom’s keys across the table and Beth reached for them, slowly. 

With that, Daan strode away from the booth and back to the pissed off girl. Henry watched her leave, eyes narrowed. 

“So, she the team’s babysitter?”

Beth didn’t respond to that comment, despite being a bit pissed off at Daan’s hovering. Just because she had been overwhelmed in the weight room and had backed down to a new personal low, didn’t mean Beth needed some alpha keeping an eye on her. She could handle herself and a few drinks.

The conversation picked up where it had spiraled out, however, it wasn’t flowing as well. Perhaps it was the lack of alcohol in her system, but Beth was beginning to think Leah’s rating was right. The next hour seemed to drag by as Beth sipped at the water Daan had brought over.

Henry seemed preoccupied, his attention focused over her shoulder.

They traded a few more questions, but Beth wasn’t feeling it anymore. It was abundantly clear Daan’s sudden appearance had sparked some kind of challenge. Henry was trying way too hard to get her to laugh or to have another drink.

She found her gaze roaming about the pub as Henry prattled on. A few tables were still occupied by whom Beth assumed were men from the neighborhood. Some rowdy university students were out front, dicking about before the pub’s windows and smoking.

Across the room, Kim was idly tossing darts, and Lia was definitely sound asleep. Tabea was resting her head atop Lia’s, and despite her reclined position, seemed far more alert than anyone else in the pub. She met Beth’s gaze and gave her a wink.

A sudden hand on her arm tore Beth away from her people watching. She blinked in surprise at Henry, and then glanced down at his hand on her arm.

“Its getting late,” Henry sat back, hand trailing down her arm toward her hand, “and you seem to be dozing off on me. Want to get out of here and get that drink somewhere else?”

How many times did she have to turn down this drink?

“Nope.” 

Beth extracted her hand, conscious of Henry’s tightening hold, and stood. She grabbed Carla’s jacket that lay forgotten on the seat of the booth, and pocketed Dom’s keys. Henry stood as well, and Beth took a measured step back as she gave him a forced, yet friendly smile.

“It was nice meeting you and I enjoyed our conversation. Have a great night Henry.”

She turned and tried not to let her step falter when she found the corner of the bar empty. Well, that explained Henry’s newfound confidence. The asshole had been watching Daan, and must have waited to make his move once she was gone.

Beth closed out her tab and made her way over to Kim, Lia, and Tabea to say goodnight. As she crossed the room, she did a quick sweep to see if Henry was still lurking about. No sandy blond hair jumped out at her, so he must have taken the hint and gone to bother someone else.

“Heading out?” Kim all but yawned at her.

She was still tossing darts half heartedly, every other throw going wide and missing the board.

“Yeah, time to turn in.” Beth glanced around the pub again, eyes lingering in the shadowed corners. “Do you know where Daan ran off to? She asked me to find her when I was ready to leave.”

“Think she’s either out front pressed between that girl and a wall, or she went home with said girl.” Tabea laughed, and jostled Lia slightly. The Swiss grumbled something unintelligent, eyes still closed.

“You can head out,” Kim abandoned the darts and gave Beth a smile, “we’ll give Daan another hour or so, and if she doesn’t turn up, we’ll text her to call a cab.”

Beth said her goodbyes and headed out, the London night crisp and cool. She thanked Carla for forgetting her jacket and shrugged it on. Laughter echoed up and down the street, the drunk university students still mucking about in front of the pub. 

They’d gotten good parking spots earlier, but despite the short walk, Beth’s legs still felt like jello. Practice really had been brutal, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get out of bed tomorrow. As she contemplated how she could bribe Anna into making breakfast in bed in the morning, the sound of her name made her pause and turn.

Lia, hair a bit mussed but eyes bright and alert, swooped in next to her. She wrapped an arm around Beth’s shoulders and behind her, Beth could see Tabea. The German was a few feet back, blocking the sidewalk and chatting with a disgruntled looking Henry.

“Tabi saw him slink past the front of the pub right after you left. She figured you could use some back up.”  

“Bloke can’t take no for an answer.” Beth leaned into Lia and wound an arm around her waist as they closed the last few strides to Dom’s car.

They pulled the car around and rescued Tabea, who had remained rooted to her spot in the middle of the sidewalk. As the German shut the door to Dom’s car, Beth made a point to swerve a bit too close to Henry as she pulled the car around again. She even flashed the asshole alpha a honey sweet smile and a middle finger.

Her teammates howled with laughter as Henry stumbled back, away from the front of the car, expression shocked. Lia growled something in Swiss, and Beth figured from her tone it was along the lines of fuck you. Beth drove the girls down the street, to their own car, and waited until they pulled out in front of her to start heading home.

Betas, gotta stick together.

 

———

 

The house was deathly quiet as she eased the front door open. Carla’s car had been in the drive when she pulled in, so Beth assumed her and Anna were sound asleep by now. Beth toed off her shoes and took her time tip toeing up the stairs. Every squeak was like a shrill wail, but no one cussed her out, so she chalked up her climb to the room as successful.

Anna had left their door cracked open, and Beth blessed her forethought. The hinges on the doors of the old house were worse than the squeaky floor boards of the stairs. After changing into a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, Beth found herself wide awake and staring at her ceiling.

With nothing to distract her, Beth’s mind wandered back to the weight room incident, goosebumps breaking out along her arms and bare legs. Daan’s scent, charred and furious, sat on the back her tongue like bile. The fear and frustration Beth had hastily packed away and shoved to some corner of her mind washed over her. It was like a dam had broken, and Beth felt as if she were drowning.

She muffled a sob into her pillow, and chastised herself for being such a baby. Daan wasn’t the first alpha to force her to submit, and she wouldn’t be the last. 

Struggling to gain some control, Beth shoved a fist between her teeth. She threw her blankets back and searched for her phone. Between the dark room and the tears, it was almost impossible to see anything. After some scrabbling, she managed to grab her phone and somehow tip toed her way back down the squeaky stairs.

The back door and screen took pity on her, and remained blessedly silent as she eased them open. Once outside, she couldn’t help but wish she’d grabbed her comforter.

With shaking fingers, Beth dialed her best friend from home. A whine cracked through her quiet sobs as the call went to voicemail. She redialed and waited, trembling, as the phone rang. Just as she was about to end the call, a sleepy and irritated voice rose up from her speakers.

“Oi, what’s the matter? Don’t you know what time-”

Beth let herself cry, the wave of emotions, namely shame and fear, sucking her down and under.

 

———

 

After some time, Beth managed to pull herself together. Convincing her longtime best friend that a trip up to London with a shovel and a tarp was unnecessary took more doing, but Daan was safe, for now. They ended the call with promises to talk again soon, at a more reasonable hour. 

The tips of Beth’s fingers and toes were red with cold. Getting up from the patio chair was easier said than done, all her bones rattled loose by crying and her muscles sore and aching from practice. The back door and screen continued to be her stalwart companions and didn’t make a single creak as she eased them open.

She blinked in surprise at the light above the stove. Funny, she didn’t remember that being on when she had stumbled past earlier.

Across the kitchen, Daan had one knee on the counter, her other leg dangling along the bottom cabinets as she sat frozen, arm extended above her head. Her mouth was open slightly in surprise. Eyes a bit wide behind round rimmed glasses Beth had never seen before. Daan’s face was scrubbed clean, and the glasses seemed to highlight the shadows under her eyes.

The alpha looked exhausted, and even her scent smelled sleepy. A fire burnt down to embers. 

Beth glanced up to the top shelf Daan was reaching for, and the loaf of bread Dom liked to leave there. 

“Need help?”

Her voice was nothing more than a weak rasp, throat raw from her sob fest. She knew she probably looked like hell too, cheeks wet and eyes red. 

Daan blushed, and stretched up to snag the loaf of bred. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

She hopped down from the counter and shut the cabinet. Beth stayed by the door, unsure if she wanted to hash things out with Daan now, while the other girls slept. Perhaps they could just avoid having a chat, and continue to be awkward around each other forever.

Across the kitchen, Daan fussed with the tie on the loaf of bread, lips pursed. She glanced over at Beth, eyes flicking from her to the door she had just come through.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Daan whispered.

An olive branch.

Beth sighed and decided to put her big girl pants on. She nodded and moved over to the counter, motioning for the bread.

“Yes, please. Want me to make sandwiches?”

Daan took a half step back, and Beth stopped, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. She was always conscious of alphas’ body language, she had to be. Sure, she didn’t always listen to the signals their body language gave off, but as her mother said, she liked to be difficult. 

“Do you,” Daan cleared her throat, the light above the stove picking out another blush, “do you want to split one?” She twirled the tie on the end of the bread again. “I don’t think I can finish a whole one.”

Oh, right. Dom had said Daan didn’t have much of an appetite when she was in rut.

“Only if we can discuss,” Beth waved awkwardly between them, “over tea and our half sandwiches.”

Daan nodded and handed the bread over. As Beth grabbed plates and a knife, Daan filled the kettle and wiped down two cups that had been leaning on the drying rack.

Despite the distant echo of the warning bell that had banged around in her head while in the weight room, Beth put her back to Daan and rummaged through the fridge. Having her back to Daan made her hands tremble, and she cursed herself for being such a nervous nelly. They didn’t have much in the fridge, and Beth made a mental note to drag Anna grocery shopping later.

“Pickings are slim, is ham okay?”

Daan’s reply was garbled, something along the lines of ya, ya. When Beth glanced over her shoulder at the alpha, brows knit with confusion, Daan cleared her throat and tried again.

“Means ‘yes, please’ in Dutch.”

Speaking of Dutch, Beth wanted to know what Daan had been murmuring to her in the weight room. Ham and mustard in hand, Beth wandered back over to the counter. She took her time making the sandwich and willed her courage not to fail her.

“Care to translate that Dutch phrase you kept repeating after I submitted to you in the weight room?”

Hot water splashed over the rim of one of the teacups, and Daan swore. She fumbled with the kettle as she tried to reach for a towel. Half sandwiches safely on their plates, Beth waited Daan out.

“Beff,” Daan had mopped up the water and was anxiously spooning heaping spoonfuls of sugar into her tea, “I didn’t mean to make you-”

“Answer my question.”

Beth was in charge of this conversation, tear stained cheeks and voice be damned.

“You’re safe. That’s what I was saying to you in Dutch earlier.” 

Daan held her gaze for a heartbeat, two, then looked down and tipped her head to the side.

Holy shit.

Did Daan just?

Brain short-circuiting, Beth stared dumbfounded at Daan, who continued to keep her gaze lowered as she slid a teacup across the counter. Unable to find words beyond, holy shit, Beth slid a plate over to the alpha in rut that had just very blatantly bared her throat and broken eye contact first. Daan took a sip of her tea, eyes still lowered, and idly, Beth wondered how she managed to drink her tea with so much sugar in it.

“I meant what I said in the weight room.” Daan looked up through her lashes, and Beth was struck suddenly with how delicate she looked.

Alphas tended to have a big presence. Beth had always chalked it up to their irritating confidence and their incessant need to put on a show. She was used to being on her back heel, always a step behind and careful not to cross a line. Yet, Daan was giving off signals that were making Beth’s head spin. 

She was clearly still in rut, the threat of an inferno waiting to be stoked, glasses picking out the red rim around her pupil in stark relief. However, in this moment, her scent was like a campfire burned low. Beth couldn’t help but think of bonfires at the beach in summer, when everything had died down and people lay curled up together in blankets in the sand. The swift submission she had just offered was unexpected to say the least. Since when did alphas back down so easily, let alone an alpha in rut?

The Daan standing in front of her now, toying with her teacup, was a whole new person. Perhaps it was the low lighting, or the glasses. 

“I didn’t mean to force you into submitting.” Hesitantly, Daan reached for her hand, and Beth let her take it. “My rut tends to shine a light on all the things I’m not proud of. I’m stubborn, have a short temper, and can be impulsive. Thinking things through is not my forte, and clearly I wasn’t thinking when I smothered the weight room in pheromones. If I had known…”

Daan pulled her hand away, her skin still feverish. She bit her lip and picked at her sandwich.

“Beff,” Daan’s whisper jumped up a few octaves and Beth knew that brittle tone all to well, “I am so, so sorry.” 

A tear trailed down Daan’s cheek and she furiously wiped it away. The embers that her scent had become seemed to stir and gain a bit of life back. She repeated her apology in Dutch, or at least, Beth thought that was what she was saying.

“I’m,” Daan said something in Dutch again, and gestured to herself, “I’m ashamed of what I made you do. Mortified. The way I made you feel, I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it.”

Beth took a sip of her tea, it was too sweet, but she drank it anyway. 

“You can be sorry all you want,” she glared at Daan, who stood frozen, her glasses picking out another tear falling, “but what happened, happened. I’d prefer to put it behind us, so it doesn’t impact us and the rest of the team on the pitch, but to do that, we can’t keep skating around each other.”

“How do you want to move forward?” Daan’s whisper was still too high, that holding-back-tears-unsuccessfully pitch.

Good question, how did Beth want to move forward?

She could chicken out and request a house change. Some small, petty voice whispered in her head that she should have Daan request the change. Beth was pretty sure the voice belonged to that primal instinct with the bell. Fuck that. They were adults. Teammates. They needed to figure this out or Beth would have a shit season and never dress in the three lions kit again.

Beth cut her piece of the sandwich in half again, then took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully and let Daan stew for a minute or two. Deciding that taking an exaggerated sip of her achingly sweet tea was a bit too cruel, Beth sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Honestly, I’m not sure how I want to move forward. I’ve never really discussed this situation with the alpha who put me in it before.”

A garbled sound bubbled up from Daan’s chest. It was like she couldn’t decide between a growl or a whine. She shuffled forward, there was only a foot or two between them, and slid her hand tentatively along the counter top. Just shy of grasping her hand again, Daan stopped. Beth could feel the heat simmering off her skin, and she was tempted to shift her fingers over, as they were still cold from her cry fest outside.

“Beff.” Daan’s voice ached, her accent thick.

Panicked slightly by her admission and the way Daan was acting, Beth took another bite of her sandwich.

“Let’s settle for teammates and try for friends?”

She was mumbling around a mouthful of ham sandwich, but Daan seemed to be able to understand her. The alpha nodded, and retracted her outstretched hand. Daan tucked into her own half of the sandwich, alternating between small bites and sips of her sugar with a drop of tea. Having demolished her third of the half sandwich nervously, Beth fidgeted with the plate and the other third that rested on it.

“How’d you make out with that guy?”

Beth stared at Daan, taken aback. Daan swore in English, in Dutch, and then tipped her head back, eyes searching for help along the ceiling. The wheels in Beth’s head came to a screeching halt again as she gazed at Daan’s bare throat. 

Was she doing it on purpose? 

She must be, Beth’s instincts rationalized, no alpha would unwittingly bare her throat like that.

“Well,” Beth tried to smoother her laugh before it could ruin her line, “I’d have thought someone like you would have experience, but I guess I could walk you through how to make out with someone.”

Daan glared at her playfully. “Are you going to demonstrate technique or just dictate?”

“I’ll kiss and tell if you do.” Beth sing-songed back at her.

“Fine, fine.” Daan took a big bite of her half of the sandwich, washed it down with her cup of sugar, and then leaned her hip against the counter. “She was cute, law student, second year, wants to do international law and is focusing on German and French for her languages-”

Beth held up a hand. “Hang on, you actually remember all of those details?”

“Yes,” Daan frowned at her and took a self conscious bite of her sandwich, chin tucked down and away, “I listen when people talk to me, and I spent the majority of the night just talking to her.”

Well, color Beth surprised.

“Okay, point to you because I can’t remember much about Henry beyond his name.”

Daan laughed and finished the last bite of her sandwich. “I’ll skip to the juicy details, and I do mean juicy.”

She must have made a face because Daan laughed again.

“Way too much tongue right out of the gate, spit, everywhere.” Daan scrunched her nose in disgust and Beth had to put her fist back in her mouth, to muffle a laugh this time, instead of a sob. “You gotta build up to it, can’t just come out swinging like that. Though, I appreciate enthusiasm.”

“Sounds like you had a better time than me.” Beth whispered in between her muffled giggles.

She slid her plate and the third of her uneaten half of the sandwich over to Daan. The other woman accepted it with a shy smile, and took a smile bite.

“So, Humphrey was that bad?”

Beth couldn’t hold back her laugh this time. It raced through the quiet house, and she waited for Carla or Anna to shout down the stairs at them. No shout came, and the silence settled through the house again. Beth took care to keep her whisper low.

“Henry, and yeah, he was no winner.”

Daan gestured for her to continue, and Beth gestured for her to keep eating.

“No juicy details, though he was a creep.” 

Daan frowned mid chew, nose scrunched up again, and Beth plowed on. 

“He tried to follow me back to Dom’s car, but Lia and Tabea cut him off.”

The house had been hushed before, with the exception of their whispered conversation, but when Beth finished her statement, the house and night as a whole seemed to be holding its breath. An eerie silence wrapped around them. Even though the light above the stove was washing them in distorted shadows, Beth could see Daan’s muscles locking up one by one. A hound or a wolf coming to quick and sudden attention. 

Nerves still jangled and raw, Beth flinched.

A whine, keening and high erupted from Daan’s chest. She went to reach forward, half eaten third of a sandwich forgotten, and then pulled her hand back. Daan’s eyes flicked over Beth haphazardly, almost as if the alpha couldn’t decide where to look. A hand, trailing down an arm, studying her face.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Daan breathed.

Even standing as close as they were, Beth had to strain to hear her. Daan trembled, and crossed her arms over her chest. She wedged her hands, fists still balled, under her arms and tight against her body. The stance was odd and forced some of the tension from her shoulders.

Wait a minute.

Beth’s sluggish brain finally caught up with her instincts, which were already settling back down into the blanket by the bonfire. Daan had gone from hackles raised to shoulders hunched and body a size smaller than what it had been. Christ. These signals. They were working wonders, a balm to the burns from the weight room.

“Are you okay?” 

Sparks jumping up to the sky as logs were added to the bonfire, the embers stirring and catching. Daan’s tone had skipped away from brittle, and was now sitting low in her chest.

Beth wasn’t sure if Daan was referring to the incident at the pub, or the incident in the weight room, or the incident just now, when she had gone deathly still and wigged Beth out. Daan’s eyes were jumping around like Beth’s nerves. Unsure where to land, they skittered across her body, to her hands, to the shadows the stove light was throwing across her cheek.

Deciding that sticking with being honest was a good way forward, Beth poured her cold tea down the drain and left her cup in the sink. She nodded to the bite of sandwich Daan had left on the plate, and then headed for the stairs. At the threshold to the kitchen, Beth turned and gave Daan a shrug.

“Not really, but I’ll figure it out.”

Notes:

Friendly reminder I still haven't forgotten about Pernille and Magda. Hope the long chapter is appreciated while I wrangle Nahikari and Virginia.

Chapter 6: Nahikari and Virginia 2

Summary:

In which Virginia is oblivious (but you can't really blame her) and Nahikari holds her own at being a smartass.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Per usual, it was raining.

Sometimes, the weather of Donostia could be disheartening. Many mornings she had awoken, excited to find the sun cresting the hills, only to have the sky open up once she was out and about. Her hair would frizz and curls would stick to her neck. The streets would become so slick that some days she had to cut her loses and go back to her apartment. But, despite the fickle weather, she was glad to be home.

The international friendly had taken a toll on her, and the other national team players if their recent league performances were anything to go by. For some reason, the travel hadn’t been well thought out for this past friendly, and she felt as if she had gone from the bus to Real’s pitch without a chance to catch her breath. The fact that she had been bullied into a sudden heat also didn’t help, and she had been ill for days.

The ride back to Donostia had been one of the worst road trips she had ever taken. God bless the girls that had driven back with her, because she would have left her sorry ass on the side of the road. They hadn’t even made it an hour from Madrid before the car was swerving off the road so she could retch up whatever fluids she had managed to choke down after the game. 

She had given Mariona a heart attack, the other girl convinced she was either dead in a ditch or had been attacked and claimed by some unhinged alpha. However, in Nahikari’s defense, trying to focus on the text messages Mari was sending in a steady stream was nearly impossible when her stomach was threatening to climb up her throat. The girls she had driven back with had done their best to take the journey and any sudden curves as slow as possible, but the open windows and careful driving did nothing to help her situation.

Her Real teammates had been worried when she turned up to practice the following day flushed and full of nervous energy. Usually, she was the epitome of professional. She prided herself on being calm and collected, a steady presence in the midst of a chaotic environment. It was how she had been awarded a captainship at such a young age, yet the international friendly had set her off kilter. Her footwork at practice was sloppy and while she was usually able to contain her temper, it had been as wild as her scent.

Mercifully, and much to her embarrassment, Real had taken pity on her, letting her sit out the first league game after the international friendly. The extra time with the trainers had helped to get her back on track, as the suppressants tended to work best when you took it easy, but the shame had nearly eaten her alive. Of course, Real had lost the game, and Nahikari knew it was because she hadn’t been on the field. While she wasn’t an arrogant person, she also wasn’t blind. The club always played better when she was a part of the attack, Real was like a ship, and Nahikari was its rudder.

The other girls could get the ship out of port, hoist the sails and make some progress, but when it came to steering around sharp rocks and reefs (aka finishing chances and beating the backline without losing possession), that was were Nahikari shined. Even the atmosphere in the stadium seemed different, more charged, when she was on the pitch. Her mother liked to say it was because she was the heart of the storm, the wind in Real’s sails and the waves that ran the opponents aground. Nahikari thought it was because she was one of the only girls the fans recognized, as Real did a shitty job marketing their women’s team.

Alexia and Mari had reached out after the game, offering words of comfort and support, but she had ignored their messages. Despite her rude behavior at the friendly, Virginia had touched base too, her message simply a picture of Atletico’s score board, the final score not in their favor. Ever the smartass when it came to Virginia, she had sent back a clip from the Copa de la Reina, and sent along a cheeky, “that result seems familiar.” Understandably, she had gotten a rather rude response, but it had helped coax a smile out of her unlike the other messages.

Luckily, her sudden heat was over and she had settled back into the league schedule and her usual routine at Real. The more recent games had ended much more favorably, and she was looking forward to the brief three day break Real would be afforded soon. 

Book momentarily forgotten, Nahikari watched the drops of water race down the window of the coffee shop. She was tucked into her favorite window seat, the one that had a view of the hills. Despite the shower, the clouds seemed to be thinning out, and she was hopeful that later this afternoon the sun would make an appearance. 

She had wanted to go hiking, but the morning had been grey and dour. Knowing that a sprained ankle wouldn’t do her any favors, she had settled in at the cafe, prepared to wait the clouds out. So far, she seemed to be winning the standoff if the scattered rays of sunlight were anything to go by.

A text came in, the chime of her phone oddly explosive in the sleepy little cafe. She quickly silenced it and opened the message. 

The Meteorologist: Friendly reminder to post something on your social media sites so people realize you do in fact exist.

With a dull thunk, Nahikari let her head fall back against the window. Years ago, when it had become apparent that she needed a manager, her mother had joked that she should go down to the local news station and ask the weatherman. You don’t need a manager as much as you need someone to predict the storms you create, her mother had said. So naturally, when she had landed herself a manager that wasn’t a snake in the grass, she and her mother had dubbed him the meteorologist.   

He spent the majority of his time trying and failing to predict her next move. Whenever he thought he knew where she was headed, she’d do something unexpected, like stay at Real for another year despite having outgrown the club. As if trying to wrangle her wasn’t bad enough, he also had the unfortunate task of building up her online presence, which was nonexistent.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like taking pictures, it was just that she preferred to be behind the camera instead of in front of it. She put on a brave face after games and never skipped an interview or photo opportunity with a fan, yet that didn’t seem to be enough for her manager.

Knowing that a scenic picture of the trail she had hiked a few days ago would only ruffle his feathers further, Nahikari resigned herself to her media duties. Carefully, she balanced her coffee on her knees and angled her phone so she managed to get both the coffee and the logo on her shoes in the shot. After a few tries, she got a shot that lacked a reflection in the window as well, so that the rain soaked hills were clearly visible.

At a loss for the caption, she settled for the coffee cup emoji and posted the photo to Instagram. Just as she safely returned her coffee to the table at her side, a text came in.

The Meteorologist: One could make the argument those aren’t your legs. Usually, when I ask for a post I’m looking for a full body or head shot. Maybe something with a newspaper too so everyone can confirm the date and the fact that you’re still alive.

N: Just appreciate the fact I included the sponsor’s logo.

The Meteorologist: Yes, yes. Truly, you do me SO many favors. What are the chances of me bribing you to take an action shot at practice tomorrow?

N: Four free passes for scenic posts.

The Meteorologist: Two free passes.

N: Three free passes and a witty caption.

The Meteorologist: Two free passes and one post of you from behind looking out at the city from the hills.

N: Done.

With that all hashed out, Nahikari turned her phone over and picked her book back up. While the sun made a few valiant attempts to break through the overcast haze, the clouds had settled in for the day. The rain picked up and Nahikari couldn’t help but admit defeat when it came to her hopes of getting outside for a quick hike.

As the morning washed itself away, Nahikari lost herself in the book she had brought and the free refills this cafe was kind enough to offer. Somewhere between the morning becoming afternoon and her third cup of coffee, she decided to check the post to see if her sportswear sponsor had liked it. Sure enough, they were one of the firsts, and whatever intern controlled their Instagram account had left a comment. She tapped out a quick reply, something textbook and along the lines of thanks for keeping me comfortable on and off the field.

A few of the national team players and her friends from U19s were quick to like her unoriginal comment, as they all knew how much she hated this social media nonsense. They never missed an opportunity to give her a hard time about it. As she was typing out some scathing reply to one of Mariona’s quips, a text came through.

Virginia: *Picture*

The picture looked to be of a hotel lobby, the walls and furniture a bland mix of beiges and browns. The alpha had one leg resting on a chair in front of her, and a cup of tea balanced on her thigh. 

Odd.

Real was scheduled to play Atletico in two days. Virginia should be at practice, as her team would be traveling tomorrow. Had Atletico come in early?

N: I balanced a coffee on my knees, not a tea on my thigh. A 5 for effort, 2 for execution.

Virginia: Doctors said I only need to keep the one knee elevated.

The sleepy cafe faded away and the roar of a partially full stadium invaded her senses. The memory of Virginia being taken out by that opposing alpha played before her eyes. Her mind zeroed in on her left knee, on the opposing player’s cleat catching her lower leg and dragging it awkwardly to the side. 

After the international friendly, Virginia had missed two league games, but then had been a substitute in the following game. She seemed to have played well when she came on in the second half of Atletico’s last game, though Nahikari had only seen the highlights. Her knee must have started acting up after that substitution, and knowing Virginia, the alpha would have stubbornly remained on the pitch, regardless of how much pain she was in.

Of course, Nahikari couldn’t help but jump to the worst case scenario. That asshole alpha had practically ended Virginia’s career during the friendly. Nahikari could hear the echo of Virginia’s scream of pain, though the growl building in her chest was quickly drowning the horrible memory out.

N: Torn ACL? Or MCL? Or…both?

Virginia: *Picture*

This time, Virginia had taken a selfie from the waist up. She was lounging in a chair, holding the collar of her Atletico hoodie over her mouth as she shrugged. Her eyebrows were raised and Nahikari knew she was pouting under the sweatshirt collar. The picture was a perfect embodiment of the word, “dunno.”

Nahikari could just make out the front desk behind the chair, a swarm of people blurring in the background. Wherever Virginia was, it wasn’t Donostia. It was currently the middle of the off season, and despite Real’s recent success in the Copa de la Reina, the city’s hotels were never as busy as the lobby Virginia was currently sitting in. 

N: This upcoming game is going to be a goal fest! We knew Atletico wouldn’t be much of a challenge, but with you out, the game will simply be unfair. Apologize to Laia and Lola in advance for me.

She followed the text up with some cheeky emojis, most notably the hair flip and winking one.

Virginia: *Picture*

Virginia had smoothed out her hoodie, face fully visible and her mouth pressed into a stern line. She was giving Nahikari a narrowed eye glare, yet still slumped in the hotel lobby chair. The alpha’s hazel eyes cut through Nahikari’s scratched phone screen, the victim of one too many falls while out on the trails.

She rolled her eyes at Virginia’s stern expression, completely unfazed by what she was sure the alpha thought was a put-you-in-your-place look.

N: Have you seen a specialist yet?

Virginia: *Link* Heading here today.

Nahikari opened the link, which redirected to a website for a speciality clinic in Madrid. She recognized the name of the head doctor, he had written one of her textbooks and a professor at her university had once been his partner. While she was still worried for Virginia, she couldn’t help excitedly tapping out a lengthy reply.

Virginia: *Picture*

A laugh jumped free and rebounded off the cafe window when Nahikari opened Virginia’s picture. The alpha was crossing her eyes and making a stupid face, one hand buried in her hair and holding the side of her head.

Virginia: Whoa there, Dr. Garcia. You lost me amidst your fifty dollar words and complex hero worship rambling. 

N: I hope they saw your leg off at the knee and Disneyland Paris denies your application to be one of the pirates on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

Virginia: *Picture*

A small, soft smile bled through the cracks in Nahikari’s phone screen. The smile, paired with the cozy hoodie and slumped position, made Virginia seem delicate. Nahikari can’t help but trace the planes of Virginia’s face, getting a little lost in the image. Despite the fragile nature of the picture, Virginia’s gaze was still sharp, eyes intense and seeming to reach through the phone at her. 

Before she could question it, Nahikari saved the picture.

Virginia: You’re the smartest person I know, and I lived with Alexia for a year. If you’re a fan of this doctor, then I think it’s safe to assume I’m in good hands?

Nahikari’s chest tightened and she found herself pulling her knees up. She wedged herself more securely into the corner of the window seat, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. The rain continued to fall outside, sliding down the window and pooling on the sidewalk. Virginia’s anxiety was palatable, despite the miles of distance.

Usually, their conversations were light and breezy. Virginia was wild, always getting into trouble and being a goof. She was a terrible flirt and never took anything beyond soccer seriously. Mariona liked to joke she was Nahikari’s polar opposite, as the omega seemed to possess all the organization and seriousness Virginia lacked.

This brief flash of uncertainty from the alpha was unsettling. She was used to the Virginia who flirted her way past bouncers and talked her way into the VIP section of clubs. The woman who kept the team up one night hours past curfew because she just had to prove she had the best terrible one liners of all the girls present. 

Virginia: Your radio silence is doing wonders for my nerves.

Virginia: *Picture*

Another selfie. Virginia was holding her tea, one pinky raised, her lips pursed and eyes focused on something beyond her phone. She looked like an actress from one of those movies set in the 1800s, whining about her delicate nerves. Virginia was a lot of things, but she wasn’t the type of girl who spiraled off and needed smelling salts to regain her senses.

N: I think you’re about to see one of the most qualified doctors and leading experts for these kinds of sports related injuries. So, while its normal to be nervous, you don’t have to worry about some quack with a scalpel turning you into a Disneyland Paris cast member. I’m not going to venture a guess at the diagnosis, esteemed doctors in training don’t guess, but I do know you’re one of the most determined people I have the misfortune of being acquitted with. Listen to what they have to say, and don’t rush your recovery. You’ll be back on the field soon.

Virginia: Do esteemed doctor’s in training nurse their injured teammates back to health? I like honey in my tea and prefer to sleep till noon. Brunch in bed and a uniform with a short skirt required.

She didn’t need a picture to envision the smirk Virginia was sporting or the way her eyes lit up whenever she made a suggestive comment.

N: No, but I can promise you that I’ll keep scoring on your team to help motivate you to come back. Nothing like falling several spots to get your ass into gear!

Virginia: *Picture*

Virginia was giving the camera an unimpressed look and a middle finger. Nahikari couldn’t help but huff a laugh. She opened her own camera app and checked her hair. Curls everywhere. How her hair could manage to tangle itself the way it did was beyond her and every hair product she had ever tried.

After fussing with her curls for a few minutes and ultimately admitting defeat, she snapped a picture. She had tried for something disapproving, and wasn’t sure if it came across well. It wasn’t terrible, the cafe actually had good lighting, but it wasn’t her favorite. Deciding that she’d be there all day trying to make the picture perfect, she closed her eyes and hit send.

N: *Picture*

N: In my best Irene voice, “Behave yourself!”

Virginia: A better caption would have been, “Contemplating my future as a Disneyland cast member.” What’s the one with the crazy hair? The Mad Hatter?

Like the mature young lady she was, Nahikari stuck her tongue out at her phone and looked up a meme of a donkey. She found one of a donkey braying while wearing a stupid hat and sent it to Virginia. The alpha liked snapbacks and had a few questionable ones that Nahikari always gave her a hard time about. Pocketing her phone, Nahikari collected her book and returned her mug to the counter. Rain was still falling, and she resigned herself to a day free of hikes and full of slippery cobblestones.

———

As she predicted, the game against Atletico had been a goal fest. Somehow, someway, Nahikari had walked away with a hat trick in the first half. THE FIRST HALF! Needless to say, she had been on cloud nine, utterly ecstatic. 

The crowd had been rowdy by the time she had gotten her brace, and when she got the third goal, the stadium became unhinged. The atmosphere was electric, and her teammates were on another level. Every pass found its mark. Her teammates were practically reading each other’s minds. Everyone was exactly where they needed to be, before they needed to be there. It was perfect, absolutely and utterly perfect. 

Atletico didn’t just flounder, they crashed and burned.

Poor Lola received no help from her backline, and Real just sailed right through them. Atletico had seemed dazed and confused, even before the game had started. Their manager had made a lot of questionable calls, from the starting line up to the substitutes. Quiet frankly, Atletico seemed poorly prepared. Real wasn’t Barca, you didn’t need to prepare for war with them, but they weren’t a team you could just walk all over either.

During warmups, Nahikari had found herself eyeing the stands. No stupid snap backs jumped out at her from the sea of Basque flags and Real jerseys. She wasn’t even sure why she was looking for Virginia. Their brief conversation two days ago might have made her a little worried. 

Just a little. 

Injuries like this were a big deal, and Virginia was her friend. It was perfectly normal for Nahikari to be worried.

A few teammates had jogged by during warmups and noticed her scanning the stands. They had asked if her mother had come to the game, which was a perfectly innocent question, but regardless, Nahikari had panicked. She fumbled with some sorry ass excuse until her teammates had gone back to warming up, probably weirded out by her behavior. Hopefully they’d just write off her reaction as some weird after effect of her past sudden heat.

As to why she made a fool of herself, Nahikari didn’t have a ready answer. However, the field before an important game was not the time and place to think it over. The field after an important win was also not the time and place to think her awkward excuse over, especially when her teammates were trying to hoist her into the air.

“Hey, hat trick queen.”

“Lola!” Nahikari fought her way free of her teammates’ grasping hands. “Not sure why you’re saving me, but I owe you one.”

Lola shrugged, hands still tapped and gloves shoved into the waistband of her shorts. “Not your fault my backline hung me out to dry, though, I’d appreciate you taking at least one shot off target the next time we have to play each other.”

She gave the alpha a smirk and shook her head. They both knew that neither of them would do the other a favor the next time they played against one another. It wasn’t how professional athletes thought or played, even if they were teammates during some games.

“Listen, I don’t want to cry into your shirt or anything, but I did want to give you an update on Virginia.”

The raucous crowd, who was still singing Real’s fight song, faded to the background. The meteorologist was waving to her from the stands, he looked like he was trying to land a plane. She held up a hand in his direction, and ignored his exasperated expression.

“You’re scaring me Lola,” Nahikari could feel her hands growing clammy, “is Virginia okay?”

“Partial tear.” Lola ran a hand through her messy hair, some of the fraying tape on her fingers pulling a few hairs from her ponytail loose. “The specialist in Madrid suggested surgery, and they had a last minute cancelation and fit her in this morning.”

“What?!” Nahikari shouted. “What a fucking idiot! Does she ever think anything through?!”

She hurled a few choice words and thoughts at Lola in Basque. The alpha flinched at Nahikari’s tone, and took a half step back, hands up. 

“You should see her try to pick an outfit in the morning.” Lola’s tone was far too dry for Donostia. “She’s certainly capable of thinking things through, and overthinking them, but its usually the stupid stuff that she expends all her brain power on.” 

Nahikari threw her hands in the air. Great, now she was imitating the meteorologist.

“Didn’t you tell her this specialist was the go to guy?”

“Yes, but-” Nahikari was so infuriated she couldn’t articulate her feelings. Lola gave her a second to gather her thoughts. “Regardless of how good he is, Virginia should have gotten a second opinion. Hell, a third and fourth too!”

Lola gave her a confused look. “That specialist in Madrid wasn’t the first doctor she had seen Nahi.”

Oh. Awkward.

The roar of the crowd began to filter back in. The chatter of her teammates and the clicking of cameras washed over her as well. 

“Listen,” Lola laid a hand on her arm, “Vir’s an idiot, but she at least takes her career seriously, most of the time. This specialist in Madrid was her second opinion. I think she should have waited for Carmen and I to be home before she waltzed off and got surgery, but thankfully one of the B girls is going to pick her up and bring her home once they discharge her.”

Nahikari shook her head, dumbfounded. 

Lola laughed. “Yep. I just wanted to give you a heads up, because I know how emotionally constipated Vir is. She hates talking about herself.”

Virginia. 

Virginia Torrecilla.

Virginia Torrecilla, who takes ten selfies before lunch and never shuts up, even on long bus rides late at night. The alpha who flirts with everyone and anyone, hell, even Alexia. The girl who Nahikari has yet to see stop talking or posting or talking in social media videos that she posts, hates talking about herself?

Perhaps one of Nahikari’s shots on goal had clipped Lola in the head.

“Lola, she never shuts up. Ever. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nahi, honey, you sound more idiotic than Vir right now.”

Nahikari frowned at Lola, confused. What the hell was the alpha talking about?

Some young fans had broken away from the cluster of players near the stands and moved down the rail, closer to where Nahikari and Lola were standing. One little girl even had a national team jersey in her hands, the yellow 22 stark against the red body of the kit. The meteorologist was a few rows behind the kids, phone in hand, pointing aggressively at them. 

Conscious of the small hopeful faces trained on her, Nahikari gave the group a smile and held up two fingers. The kids started to jump up and down, and Nahikari even threw the little girl with her national team jersey a wink. The girl’s face lit up, and then went as red as the kit she was holding. Clearly, she had thought Nahikari would overlook her and was now panicking at the prospect of her favorite player coming over to sign the jersey she was holding. 

The meteorologist made a praying motion and then held his hands skyward, head thrown back. He was more dramatic than Virginia sometimes, and that, was an extraordinary feat. 

“I’ll let you get back to your adoring fans.” Lola gave the kids a wave and Nahikari one last pat on the arm. “If you want to give Vir a piece of your mind about having surgery when her roommate wasn’t around to pick her up after, let me know. You’re more than welcome to come and give her a taste of your temper the next time you’re in Madrid.”

Nahikari rolled her eyes and wished Lola a safe ride home. She made her way over to the group of kids , stopping to chat with the little girl holding her national team jersey first. As she showed the girl how to hold it taut so the signature would come out good, Nahikari tried her best to ignore the meterologist. He was taking full advantage of this moment and getting as many pictures as possible.  

———

The air was dry and brittle as Nahikari made her way down the busy street. Madrid always seemed to be in need of a good storm. Something strong enough to scrub the smog off the buildings and smoother the heat that rose from the pavement. Even this late in the year, the city was warm.

She had taken Lola up on her offer to visit. After the Atletico game, Real had a three day break. It was due to some scheduling hiccup, but the players weren’t complaining. Everyone was taking full advantage of it, and had planned trips home or to see friends. Leire had a cousin in Madrid she was dying to catch up with, and she had been kind enough to invite Nahikari along.

Considering she was going to be in the city, Nahikari figured it would be poor form not to text Lola to see if she, Virginia, and Carmen would be around. Plus, she wanted to give Leire some quality time with her cousin. Visiting an invalid was also a good excuse to skip the bar trip later that night, but knowing Leire, she’d be having none of that.

While she usually wasn’t a fan of big crowds and busy cities, Madrid was always fun. Leire had promised her cousin would show them around tomorrow if Nahikari came out with them that night, so it was a good trade off in the end. There was just so much to do and see in Madrid, plus, everyone was very laid back compared to where she had grown up. 

The older woman of her town would be frowning and whispering behind their hands, scandalized at her audacity to walk around alone. Good omegas didn’t wander around big cities by themselves. Though, her mother had raised her right.

Always independent, regardless of her status.

No one in Madrid gave a shit about things her hometown obsessed over. It was refreshing, and if it wasn’t for the crowds, she could see herself spending more than just a few days in the city.

Checking the address Lola had texted her, Nahikari backtracked a block and took a right. Lola and Virginia’s apartment was off a busy street, and she wasn’t surprised the two alphas preferred to live close to the bars and cafes. She found the right building and groaned when she found there was no elevator. Not only was she going to give Virginia a hard time about the lack of communication regarding the surgery, but the fact that she had the audacity to live on the sixth floor of a building without an elevator. 

As she walked down the hall toward her friends’ apartment, Nahikari couldn’t help but pause as a scent washed over her. The sharp sting of salt and sun baked sand. She felt as if she was back in Donostia, by the water. 

Goosebumps broke out along her arms, but Nahikari gave herself a shake and strode forward. She knocked on the door of the apartment number she had been sent and a grinning Lola threw it open. A wave of pheromones crashed over her, and Nahikari couldn’t help but shiver. An alpha in rut, and it wasn’t Lola.

Great.

“She’s in a mood, warning you now.” Lola whispered conspiratorially and then stepped aside and did a tada type pose. “Look who’s decided to waste her day suffering your piss poor attitude princess!”

Across the room, Virginia was laying on the couch, back propped up against the arm of the sofa. Pheromones were rolling off her, waves that crested and crashed against Nahikari. Her scent was drawing Nahikari in like a current, but the growl rumbling in her chest kept Nahikari from stumbling forward.  

Virginia’s injured leg was stretched out along the length of the cushions, sweatpants rolled above the knee she had surgery on. The bandages were stark against her tan skin. A pillow had been placed under Virginia’s knee and Nahikari couldn’t help but twitch. Her knee needed to be as straight as possible, the pillow should be under her calf.

Despite the grand introduction, Virginia hadn’t looked up from her phone and was doing an excellent job of ignoring both Nahikari, who she didn’t seem to realize was standing on her doorstep, and Lola.

Nahikari called her rude in Basque, and couldn’t help but share a smile with Lola as Virginia started in surprise. The growl died suddenly, and hazel eyes snapped up, pinning Nahikari in place. She had to curl her hand into a fist, nails biting into the skin of her palm, to hold Virginia’s gaze. Pain usually brought a moment of clarity, her omega instincts shrinking away and allowing her to think rationally. 

Head cocked to the side, Virginia tossed an arm over the back of the couch. Beyond the bandages, she was the picture of ease. That signature smirk was firmly in place, and hooded eyes trailed from Nahikari’s frizzy curls, to her ankle boots, and then back up to the curls.

“Nahi, decided you wanted to play nurse after all?”

Virginia’s voice was sun soaked and lazy. It rolled over her like the slow incoming tide of the bay back in Donostia. With a dismissive sniff, Nahikari turned on her heel and made like she was going to walk back out into the hall. She had to give herself another shake to pull it off, her muscles tensing as she turned around, a blatant act of defiance.

“Lola invite her in, stop being so rude!” Carmen chastised as she rounded a corner into the living room.

Exasperated, Lola threw up her hands and waved Nahikari inside with a roll of her eyes. 

“For the record, my poor manners aren’t what’s chasing her off.” Lola mumbled as she glared at Virginia.

The injured alpha curled her lip at Lola, and Nahikari shied away from the goalkeeper as she growled in response. Carmen swooped in, swatting Lola’s chest and wrapping Nahikari in a hug.

“I apologize on their behalf, they’ve been one quip away from a cat fight since Virginia was discharged from the hospital.” Carmen bemoaned. 

As she pulled out of the hug, Carmen gave Nahikari’s upper arms a brief squeeze. The apartment was warm, just like the city streets below, yet goosebumps were still crawling up and down Nahikari’s arms. 

She had always been easily affected by alphas, even ones she was used to being around. It infuriated her, how her body betrayed her will and responded so easily to an alpha. Virginia wasn’t even calling out to her, but her rut enhanced her scent and that apparently was enough for Nahikari’s skin to start crawling. Carmen had clearly spotted the goosebumps and knew what was going on. Embarrassed, she pulled away and gave Carmen a subtle nod.

Desperate to redirect the attention of the room, Nahikari forced a teasing tone. “I’m sure it’s not Lola’s fault.” 

“Thank you!” Lola danced away from the accusatory glare Carmen threw at her and wandered into the kitchen. “Nahi, you want anything to drink or eat?”

Nahikari waved off the offer and whispered a, “You’ve trained her so well,” to Carmen that had them both giggling. Lola flipped them off, back still turned toward them. 

“Cold?” 

Virginia’s voice washed over Nahikari again, an octave lower than it usually was. The scent of salt swelled, sharp against her tongue. She turned, and gave the alpha an incredulous look. Virginia just raised an eyebrow at her, eyes still hooded and gaze roaming from her boots to her curls.

Cocky little shit.

As Nahikari stepped forward and made her way over to the couch, Virginia sat a little straighter. With sure, quick movements, (thanks to the fingernails buried in her palms) Nahikari sidled up to the couch and leaned over the injured alpha. Virginia’s eyes widened slightly and a growl rumbled through her chest as Nahikari stepped into her space. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Nahikari to be so bold.

The warning growl grew in volume as Nahikari grabbed ahold of the pillow beneath Virginia’s injured knee, drowning out Lola and Carmen’s conversation in the kitchen. The growl, coupled with the scent of Virginia’s rut, was almost too much for Nahikari’s senses. Goosebumps were the least of her worries now, as a subtle shake began in her hands and the hair along the back of her neck stood up. Her instincts demanded she back off, turn her head to the side and give Virginia an unobstructed view of her neck, but she tuned them out.

She lifted Virginia’s leg slightly and started to move the pillow. Long fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she stilled, glancing at Virginia quickly. The alpha’s grip around her wrist was surprisingly loose. It would almost be too easy for Nahikari to pull her hand free and continue moving the pillow, but she stayed still. Virginia’s eyes were glazed over slightly, the red rim surrounding her dilated pupils hazy and dull. Whatever pain killers the specialist had prescribed were strong.

“What are you doing?” Virginia’s whisper was part growl, part Catalan. This close, Nahikari could just make out a hint of a slur in her speech.

“Your knee needs to be as straight as possible.” Nahikari whispered back. “The pillow makes your knee bend slightly where you have it, but if we move it under your calf it’ll straighten your knee out.”

The loose hold around Nahikari’s wrist opened and slid away, the tips of Virginia’s fingers trailing down her hand. Where they brushed, Nahikari’s skin warmed, as if rays of sunlight were soaking in. Logically, she knew it was her blood rushing and coming to the surface of her skin in a blush, but her inner omega equated the sensation with sitting out in the sun. Unbidden, a shiver danced its way down her spine, making her breath catch for a second. 

With hazy eyes, Virginia watched her shiver, the goosebumps multiply across her arms. 

“Sure you’re not cold?”

Nahikari rolled her eyes and moved the pillow from beneath Virginia’s knee to her calf. Virginia blinked at her in confusion. 

“I’ve had it like that since the hospital discharged me yesterday. Is my knee going to be okay, or did I fuck it up?” Virginia’s growl had stuttered out and died, concern taking its place in her slurred speech.

Nahikari took a seat on the edge of the couch, careful to not jostle Virginia’s leg. For the briefest of seconds, she considered leaning in even closer to the alpha. Yup. Time to move away before she lost the last scrap of sense and decorum she had. Well, first she needed to mess with Virginia, payback for all those ‘are you cold?’ comments. She took ahold of Virginia’s hand, and schooled her features into a theatric, disheartened expression.

“I’m afraid Lola’s going to have to take a meat cleaver to your knee and remove your lower leg entirely. It’s why she called me, so I could help Carmen hold you down.”

Virginia furrowed her brow, the pain killers making her work hard to puzzle out Nahikari’s sarcastic tone. After a beat, Virginia’s expression smoothed out and she pouted.

“You’re mean.” Virginia tugged her hand away and reclined against the arm of the sofa again. “I’m going to call the university of esteemed doctor’s in training to request a new nurse. Preferably one in a short skirt.”

With a snort, Nahikari rose from the couch and took a seat in the chair across from Virginia. Tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying in her shoulders loosened. She tried to take a deep breath to help settle her nerves as well, but the air stung her throat, and made her body even more hyperaware of the alpha in rut across from her. Trying to play off another embarrassing reaction, she turned to her trusted friend, sarcasm. 

“The look you gave me when I walked in was very appreciative, sure you’re not a fan of ankle boots and skinny jeans?” Nahikari drawled.

Virginia didn’t reply, but she did let her eyes trail across Nahikari’s form again. She could feel it like a caress, a hand carding through her curls, brushing against her neck, and skimming down her waist. Try as she might, Nahikari couldn’t help the involuntary twitch that made her fingers jump and forced her to cross her legs. Sea salt coated her tongue, her nose burning as if a wave had crashed up and into her face. Nahikari was sure if she closed her eyes she could imagine grains of sand shifting beneath her feet too.  

“Mhm,” Virginia hummed, making the slur of the pain medication work in her favor, “but I prefer my nurses a bit taller.”

“Hey!” Nahikari kicked a foot at her and growled the word rude in Basque again.

“Isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” Lola sat on the arm of the chair, handed Nahikari a glass of water, and pulled her into a side hug.

Dull hazel eyes narrowed at them, and Virginia flashed her teeth, canines as stark as the bandages wrapped around her knee. She even tacked on the barest hint of a snarl, her sun soaked scent scorching for the briefest of seconds. Lola’s wiry body stiffened, and Nahikari fumbled the glass of water, almost spilling it. 

Virginia’s reaction had been a tad aggressive, and Nahikari was worried Lola would rise to the bait and lash out in a similar manner. In an effort to relieve some of the sudden tension, Nahikari tossed her hair over her shoulder. The move wasn’t an all out act of submission, but it did give Virginia an unobstructed view of her neck. She hoped that despite the drugs, Virginia would get the hint.

To her credit, Lola ignored her injured friend, and moved to sit in the empty chair next to Nahikari. The move, coupled with Nahikari’s hair flip, seemed to help settle Virginia. The injured alpha leaned back against the arm of the sofa, her sudden aggression bleeding away. Her scent returned to a lazy, soothing warmth that made Nahikari’s muscles twitch.

Trying desperately to clear the scent of Virginia’s rut from her tongue and throat, Nahikari took a few sips of the water Lola had brought over. Bless the goalkeeper, or more likely, Carmen, who knew how difficult it was to fake an air of calm in the presence of an alpha in rut.

Lola struck up a conversation, asking how Nahikari’s trip down to the city had been. Carmen wandered back into the room as well, and they spent a few hours catching up. Clearly still out of it thanks to the pain medication, Virginia only chipped in a comment or two. She barely put up a fuss when Nahikari gave her a hard time about the last minute surgery and going under the knife when Lola and Carmen weren’t around to bring her home from the hospital. 

Surrounded by friends and aided by the meds, it was clear Virginia’s instincts were being lulled to sleep. Nahikari was surprised the injured alpha didn’t dose off, but knowing Virginia, she was probably fighting tooth and nail to keep her eyes open. Lola subtly helped Virginia win the fight to stay awake by asking her to recount the challenges she faced coming home from the hospital.

Something dark and dangerous raised its head in Nahikari, the same terrifying emotion that had swept over her during the friendly when she had tried to comfort Virginia. The sleepy atmosphere disintegrated, electricity sparking and racing across Nahikari’s already crawling skin. She shifted uneasily in her chair, fingers tapping against the glass she held. Virginia tipped her head, glancing over, and stared her down until Nahikari was forced to put her glass down and sit on her nervous hands.

“Do you want a sweatshirt?” Virginia mumbled, sidetracked.

“She’s not cold you idiot.” Lola hissed under her breath, which caused Carmen to growl at her.

Confused, Virginia glanced away from Nahikari and looked at Carmen, head cocked. With a sigh, Lola forced a smile and asked Virginia to tell the story again. Despite the hiccup, they did have a good laugh over Virginia’s horror story of getting up the six flight of stairs yesterday. The poor girl from Atletico’s B team would probably never speak to her again, the alpha lamented, as she hadn’t realized she signed up for hauling Virginia’s practically unconscious body up to the apartment. Luckily, they had made it work, and Virginia only had a few bruises from stumbling up the stairs.

The conversation quickly turned to what Nahikari planned to do and see while she was in Madrid. She relayed Leire’s cousin’s promise of showing them the city, and complained about having to go out that night. Lola and Carmen offered suggestions and gave her a hard time about being allergic to fun, but Virginia was oddly quiet. Usually, she was the first one to rib Nahikari about her distaste of crowds and clubs, as she thrived in that sort of neon and blacklight mayhem. 

The injured alpha had settled into the pillows propping her up, eyes shifting from person to person slowly. Nahikari couldn’t help but think of someone floating in the water, every so often waving an arm or kicking a leg to make a little progress forward. Though Virginia was a few stuttered blinks away from closing her eyes and her scent was just as sleepy as she was, Nahikari was alert as she had ever been.

When she was younger, a doctor had once told her mother that she reacted dangerously around alphas. Unlike most omegas, who fell quiet and were content to cuddle close to a dominant alpha, Nahikari grew restless. She became jumpy, adrenaline surging through her veins and all her senses on high alert. Her mother had argued this was a good thing, Nahikari wouldn’t be lulled into stupid decisions or dangerous situations. The doctor had explained that her reaction could be perceived as defiance or worse, playing hard to get. Alphas loved a challenge, and there was no greater challenge than cowing an omega and getting them wrapped around your finger like some simpering idiot.

Nahikari couldn’t sit still, even sinking her teeth into her cheek wasn’t helping to clear her head. The scent of Virginia’s rut was causing a flush high on her cheeks. It was like the first days of summer, when she wasn’t used to the heat yet or the strong rays of the sun that burned through Donostia’s almost perpetual cloud cover. Nahikari even found her gaze sliding to Virginia every so often, skipping over the bandaged knee, faded hoodie, and messy bun the alpha wore.

Sometimes, Virginia would catch her eye, and Nahikari would let her hold her gaze, even though it made her inner omega nervous. She would wait as Virginia waded through the haze of pain medication, a smirk rolling in like the tide across her face. Not to be outdone, Nahikari would match the smirk, and with the most recent glance, she mimed a pirate hook and mouthed a silent “argh,” at Virginia. The alpha rolled her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch, snuggling into her oversize hoodie and comfy sitting spot.

As with the picture she had sent a few days ago, Nahikari couldn’t help but be struck with how Virginia seemed delicate in this moment. She was so used to seeing the alpha in outfits as sharp as her smile, presence as big and loud as her personality. Drugged up Virginia seemed to shrink three sizes, or perhaps it was the hoodie currently swallowing her that made the alpha seem smaller. The new image, paired with her rut, made Nahikari so incredibly restless.

Just as the sun started to climb behind the buildings surrounding them, Nahikari’s phone chimed. The noise seemed to startle Virginia, and she jumped, jostling her knee. She hissed in pain, and Nahikari felt her stomach bottom out, swallowed by that dark emotion she couldn’t yet name.

“Shit, Gin.” She made to get up but Virginia waved her off.

“I’m fine Nahi.” Virginia shifted and got comfortable again. “Though I’d be better if your text notice wasn’t so irritating.”

Nahikari let the comment slide, and checked her phone. Leire and her cousin were on their way over, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Heaven forbid the poor helpless omega walk by herself in the big city at night. While Leire’s cousin didn’t live very close to Lola and Virginia’s apartment, she didn’t live far enough away that Leire had to drive over to pick Nahikari up.

She stood, thanked her hosts, and made another pirate gesture at Virginia. The injured alpha growled at her, but her lazy smile took the sting out of it.

“Thanks for swinging by and suffering,” Virginia paused and thought for a moment, “how did Lola put it? My piss poor attitude?”

“Keep going princess and I’ll haul your ass to the street once your second round of pain meds kicks in. Best of luck crawling your way back to the couch.” Lola threatened with a sugar sweet smile.

Carmen sighed. “I’m not helping you with that, and I’m not waiting on your sorry ass when you pull something dragging her downstairs.”

Lola pouted and Nahikari couldn’t help but laugh. On the couch, Virginia looked disgruntled. She had folded the sleeves of her too big hoodie over her hands, and crossed her arms. 

“Jokes on you because I’m not taking those pain meds again.” The injured alpha mumbled while glaring at Lola. “They make everything too fuzzy.”

“You’re taking your medication.” Nahikari pointed at Virginia and the alpha blinked in surprise at her tone. “Every six hours on the dot, or so help me Virginia Torrecellia I’ll force feed them to you.”

“Dr. Nahikari laying down the law!” Lola whooped. 

“You got a D in bed side manner this semester didn’t you?” Virginia deadpanned.

Nahikari said something unkind in Basque in reply and Virginia narrowed her eyes at her. The alpha looked like a sullen toddler, wrapped up in her sweatshirt and sunken into the couch. Her rut, while muted by the medication, lapped against the edge of Nahikari’s consciousness. Crisp sea air and the tang of salt. The rumble of the surf breaking and waves of heat rising up from the sand.

The tremble from earlier moved from her hands to her knees, and Nahikari curled her lip at Virginia.

The injured alpha was trying to get her to back down, to submit. Virginia hadn’t appreciated Lola’s comment, but in her current state her body knew it couldn’t challenge the goalkeeper. So it had turned to the next best target in the room, who also happened to be stepping outside her station and had threatened the injured alpha too. 

“Are you being an ass on purpose or is the medication really fucking with you that bad?” Nahikari growled out in Basque.

Lola and Carmen watched the interaction as if it were a tennis match, eyes flicking between Nahikari and Virginia cautiously.  

Virginia blinked sleepily at her, brow furrowed in confusion. “Nahi?”

“Hey.” Carmen stood and leaned in close to Nahikari, voice dropping low, “Not sure what you said just now, but I don’t think Virginia’s doing,” she waved her hand gesturing to the room, “on purpose.”

Nahikari raised an incredulous eyebrow at Carmen.

“She’s been doing the same thing to me,” Carmen laughed at the wide eyed look Nahikari tossed between her and Lola, “its why someone has been at Virginia’s throat since she came home.”

Lola tossed her legs over the chair she was sitting in and pulled her phone out. “I’m telling you, the princess will recover better out on the street. The club will send us a new roommate too, hopefully one of the quiet beta girls from the B team.”

“You three are doing a terrible job of whispering about me.” Virginia growled from the couch.

With a roll of her eyes, Lola flipped Virginia off and flashed her teeth when Virginia’s growl grew louder. Someone’s phone began to vibrate and Virginia groaned, her growl dying in her throat. 

“Time to go nighty, night princess!” Lola sang with glee. She jumped up from the chair and skipped into the kitchen. After grabbing a bottle of pills and a Gatorade, the alpha made her way back into the living room. “Nahi, would you like the honor of shutting her up?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified,” Nahikari grabbed the bottle of pain medication, and turned to face Virginia, “I did get a D in bedside manners last semester and don’t have a short skirt on.”

Virginia watched her warily as she made her way over to the couch and leaned into the alpha’s space again. Nahikari checked the label on the bottle and whistle in appreciation.

“Damn girl, they gave you the good stuff.”

“Not a fan.” Virginia mumbled as she held her hand out for the pills.

Taking pity on her, Nahikari sat on the edge of the couch again and laid a hand on Virginia’s uninjured leg. Hazy hazel eyes locked onto her as Virginia took her pills and washed them down with Gatorade. This close, Nahikari had to bite the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood just to look Virginia in the eye. The scent of her rut was all consuming, like diving headfirst into a wave.

“What did I tell you a few days ago? Listen to the specialist I greatly enjoyed geeking out about, he knows what he’s doing. These pills may knock you on your ass, but they beat suffering.” She patted Virginia’s uninjured leg and gave her an innocent smile. “Save your energy for recovery, because that last game was a bloodbath and kicking Atletico’s ass is no fun if there’s no one to challenge me in midfield.”

Warmth weaved its way around her, a summer sun caressing her skin and seeping into her muscles. Nahikari took a deep breath, her inner omega stretching languidly. The goosebumps were back in full force, little shivers working their way down her back and arms. Salt nipped at her senses, and she felt her heart rate pick up. It skipped into triple time as Virginia shook the tattered sleeve of her sweatshirt back and laid a long fingered hand over her’s.

“Thanks for coming to visit.” Virginia yawned, the flash of her teeth making Nahikari freeze.

“Sorry,” the alpha mumbled, her loose hold tightening briefly in what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze, “didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Now, or during the friendly.”

Nahikari bit her lip, suddenly shy. “It’s okay, Gin. I kind of panicked during that game and overreacted.”

The haze in Virginia’s eyes seemed to clear momentarily. Her gaze was sharp, the red rim clashing with her light eye color.

“Those assholes came after you.” The slur from the medication was gone, Virginia’s voice a snarl.

The sound had an immediate and immense effect on her. Nahikari shivered, one of those full body shakes that rattled her hand loose from Virginia’s. She folded away from the alpha and into herself, wishing she could stumble away but unable to rise, her knees like jelly. Virginia frowned and wrapped an uncoordinated hand around her upper arm. Trying and utterly failing to be helpful, Virginia ran her hand up and down Nahikari’s arm.

“Will you let me give you a jacket please?” Virginia muttered.

Yep. These meds were really kicking Virginia’s ass.

“Sure,” Nahikari stuttered out, “I’ll take the jacket if you stop doing that.” She twisted away from Virginia, dislodging her hand.

Virginia braced a hand on the corner of the couch and made to get up.

“Whoa, whoa, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Nahikari pushed Virginia back, even though the contact made the goosebumps worse.

“Gonna grab you a jacket.” Virginia’s slur was back in full force.

Something dropped across Nahikari’s shoulders, and Carmen’s scent enveloped her. 

“There!” Carmen chirped brightly. “She’s all set and now she has to go.”

As Carmen looped her arm through Nahikari’s and helped her up, Virginia fumbled for the edge of the jacket around her shoulders. 

“But that’s not mine.” Virginia whined.

Nahikari’s phone chimed again, Leire and her cousin must be outside. Now on her feet, she folded Carmen in a hug, the other omega’s scent helping to clear her head a bit. She did the same with Lola and asked her to wait at least a week before she hauled Virginia kicking and screaming down the six flight of stairs to the street. The goalkeeper gave her a pained expression, a world weary sigh, and nodded.

Once again sullen and sunken into her sweatshirt, Virginia blinked slowly at her from the couch. Despite the tap dance her nerves were doing, Nahikari couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the alpha. Just a little. Deciding the pirate joke had been exhausted, she figured it couldn’t hurt to be serious for a second.

“Bye, Gin.” She smiled at the injured alpha, who returned the smile after a sluggish blink or two. “Feel better and keep me updated, my threat still stands regarding the pain medication.”

“Night, Nahi, have fun later.” Virginia managed to get the sentence out before the yawn overtook her.

Nahikari walked out into the hall of the apartment building, Carmen’s coat still draped across her shoulders. Before she closed the door, Lola motioned for the jacket.

“Vir’s not going to notice, you don’t have to wear it.”

With a laugh, Nahikari handed the jacket back and waved goodbye to Lola. Once down the stairs and outside on the street, Nahikari was finally able to take a deep breath that actually made a difference. She gave herself a shake and made her way over to were Leire had pulled over. While the sun had fallen behind the buildings, heat was still rising from the pavement.

Leire and her cousin gave Nahikari a hell of a ribbing when she slid into the backseat of the car. Virginia’s scent was clinging stubbornly to her, almost like a sunburn, an unwanted souvenir from an otherwise fun beach excursion. As Leire wove in between the city traffic, Nahikari caught her up to speed on her visit. All too soon, the conversation turned to the clubs they’d be stopping at later, and Nahikari couldn’t help but give a world weary sigh that rivaled Lola’s.

———

Despite her bitching, Nahikari ended up having a lot of fun clubbing with Leire and her cousin. They had one too many drinks, took their heels off at the fourth stop, and ended up trading a few kisses with some equally drunk “friends” that were made haphazardly at the various bars. Nahikari’s hair had even behaved, somewhat, and the night’s pictures turned out good.

At the (second?) club, Leire had snapped a picture of Nahikari in a hallway, the lighting oddly perfect. She sent the picture to Nahikari’s phone, and demanded she post it. Knowing the meteorologist would have a heart attack, though the photo was a full body shot, Nahikari had kept it off Instagram. 

In the picture, Nahikari was looking at the camera and in the process of taking a step back and turning away. Red, blue, and purple lights from the club painted the hallway behind her in a wash of colors. The black jeans and crop top (you can thank Leire for making her pack it and Leila for making her buy it) stood out starkly against the colorful background. Even her curls had done her a favor and fallen just so over her shoulder.

She saved the picture, and while it didn’t end up on Instagram, Nahikari had sent it to someone during the Uber ride back to the cousin’s apartment.

The picture was sure to get a rise out of Virginia, especially with the caption, “no jacket needed.”

———

A week or two later, she was three strides into a breakaway run when a spike of pain flared in her ankle. Laying off a shaky pass that her teammate thankfully recovered, Nahikari pulled up lame. Play continued around her as she knelt down, hand wrapped around the spot the pain was radiating out from.

Waving off the referee, Nahikari stood up and jogged forward, trying to walk it off. She probably just took a bad step, no big deal. As she jogged forward, agony spiked in her ankle and shook up her leg, making her breath catch. Snarling at the panic bubbling in her chest, Nahikari took a seat on the field and waved at the training staff.

The whistle was the last thing she heard before her vision tunneled. The trainer’s prodding fingers and careful flexing of her ankle was somehow worse than jogging on it. She thanked the crowd for drowning out her yelp during the flexion test, but they couldn’t cover up the trainer’s nail in the coffin words.

“You’re coming off, no arguments.”

Putting on a brave face for her teammates, Nahikari plastered on a smile that was more a grimace than anything else, and handed off her captain’s armband. The trainer hauled her to her feet, and together, they limped over to the sideline. Fans called out from the stands, and she waved at them, trying to downplay the injury that was making black spots dance along the edges of her vision.

When the trainer wouldn’t let her sit on the bench, foot propped on a cooler with a bag of ice saran wrapped to it, that’s when Nahikari knew it was bad. Sure, the pure anguish shrieking through her leg should have tipped her off, but she was an optimist. The trainer, however, was more of a glass half empty kind of guy, and if his reaction was anything to go by, Nahikari was going to be off her feet for awhile.

After the game, while she waited in a stark white hospital room for the doctor to come back with her test results, Nahikari checked her phone. Virginia had finally texted her back, having been oddly silent since Nahikari had sent her the picture from the club.

Virginia: Every six hours, on the dot.

The text should have made her laugh, but it had the opposite affect. A few tears rolled down her cheek, and she wiped at them, furious. Soon, the text was blurring before her eyes as tears streamed past her angry fingers. Her tears could rival the rain in this moment, falling far more steady and in greater volume.

Would Nahikari be lucky enough for it to be as simple as a quick surgery and pain medication every six hours?

Notes:

As always, comments, kudos, and bookmarks are greatly appreciated. Tried to reply to the existing comments without giving anything away. Have an idea on how to work Pernille and Magda in. Started hashing out Keira and Lucy (they seemed popular in the comments). On to Lindsay and her stubborn silence.

Suggestions on who and what you'd like to see are welcome.

Chapter 7: Lindsey Horan 2

Summary:

Alternative titles, when Sinc speaks, you listen, and Lindsey's an ass, but, she'll come around, eventually.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Practice was taking a toll on her today, and unfortunately for Lindsey, the Thorns had a double session. They had hit the gym early this morning, and despite the numerous alarms she had set, she had almost slept through it. Tobin had thrown her a raised eyebrow as she skidded into the weight room, an uncharacteristic frown tugging the corners of her mouth down. Deciding the best way to apologize was to get to work, Lindsey had perhaps overdone it a bit in her haste to make the team, and Tobin, forget her tardiness.

An ache had settled deep in her bones last night, making simple things like brushing her teeth a chore. Just the thought of weight training had made her exhausted, and she had crawled into bed far too early for someone her age. Despite the drowsiness and pain bleeding into her muscles, Lindsey hadn’t stayed in bed very long. She blamed her pillows, as they still smelled like the fruity shampoo Caitlin used. Even though it was faint, the lingering scent of the alpha had set her teeth on edge.

Deciding that a sore back was better than spending the evening with her face smushed into a pillow as she wrestled with herself over texting or not texting Caitlin, Lindsey had kicked the covers back and stomped over to the couch. After tossing and turning, flinging a leg over the back of the sofa and then laying it back on the cushions, she had somehow managed to get comfortable. Just as she was about to drift off, pain flared in her gut, white hot and all consuming.

Swearing, Lindsey had curled into a ball, knees tucked to her chest, and tried to ride out the cramps. As they ebbed, minutes or hours after the initial stab of pain, she took a few deep breaths and braced herself for rising up off the couch. After an embarrassing pep talk that involved a lot of promises surrounding Oreos, Lindsey rolled off the couch and shuffled back to her bathroom.

She had fumbled her bottle of suppressants, almost spilling half the pills down the sink drain. Damn whoever invented child safe caps to hell.

Medication in her system, Lindsey spent several infuriating minutes trying to get the cap back on the bottle of pills. The stupid thing refused to twist on correctly, perhaps because her eyes were blurry and her heavy eyelids kept threatening to close. Eventually, she had to admit defeat as a yawn threatened to crack her jaw.

Setting the open bottle on the edge of the sink, cap balanced carefully on top of it, she had shuffled back to the couch. Mercifully, no more cramps jarred her from drifting off, though the ache in her back that had nothing to do with her heat was hard to ignore.

Come morning, when the alarms blared and she silenced them only to wedge herself into a more comfortable position and back to sleep, it was the cramps that got her moving. How she missed the time blinking at her from the microwave was beyond her. Ignorant and sleepy, she had shuffled back into her bathroom and promptly sent the open bottle of medication tumbling to the floor.

Exasperated, Lindsey had spent precious time inventing new swear words, and then moved slower than molasses while picking up the pills. Suppressants weren’t cheap, and insurance barely covered a third of the cost. So of course she spent the majority of her morning sweeping them up and back into the bottle. Thank you America and its obsession with never giving a shit about those not fortunate enough to be a dominant asshole alpha.

When she had thought to look at the clock, Lindsey had almost sent the pills flying again in her haste to get dressed and out the door. Deciding that the center of the island in the kitchen was safer than the edge of the bathroom sink, she had left the opened bottle there, now full of dirty pills and dust bunnies. As she raced out the door, she chucked the offending child safe cap back into her apartment, the plastic ricocheting off the wall of windows across the room.

Once in the weight room, her heartbeat slowly settling away from racing, the exhaustion from the night before crashed over her. Her back was sore from sleeping on the couch, and while the suppressants helped her keep her wits and dulled the cramps to something manageable, the ache deep in her bones persisted. Why’d she have to go into heat today? Why not tomorrow, when they had the day off and not a double session?

Aggravated, and embarrassed at being late, Lindsey had set into the exercises with singleminded focus. It didn’t take long for her hands to grow slick with sweat, her training tank sticking to her back. She did her best to push through the exhaustion, and to ignore the ache rattling her bones. Too busy to be a pain in the ass, Emily had kept her distance, or perhaps, her friend understood just how pissed off she was and was purposefully staying away. Either reason suited Lindsey just fine.

The same, however, could not be said of Caitlin.

The alpha was doing the exact opposite of Emily, and always seemed to be in the way or right behind her when Lindsey turned. They seemed to always be reaching for the same weight, or bumping into each other at the same station. Caitlin’s hands would brush her’s while the alpha spotted her, causing her concentration to splinter and the bar to hover dangerously close to her throat. Sweat, musk, and fruit shampoo were warring with the oxygen Lindsey’s lungs desperately needed, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out mid rep.

So far, nothing would deter Caitlin, despite the amount of glares and growls Lindsey had thrown her way. The alpha just smirked and continued to hover, taking every and any opportunity to get close. Her presence was a distraction, one Lindsey didn’t need in addition to her exhaustion, pain, and frustration over being in heat.

Halfway through a set, Lindsey couldn’t help but wonder if she was calling out to the alpha. Surely the rest of the team would have said something? It was unlike the girls to keep their mouths shut, especially in embarrassing situations. Menges and Raso would have been cackling and rolling on the mats by now if she were calling out to Caitlin.

Yet, it was the only reason she could think of for Caitlin not leaving her alone.

The medication was supposed to stop Lindsey’s body from broadcasting the need burning a hole in her gut. It dulled the pain and her senses, muddling scents and slowing her mind so that anything beyond sleep seemed liked far too much effort. The pills sapped all her energy, making sex a chore she’d rather trade for a nap.

Not only did the suppressants muffle Lindsey’s instincts, but her scent as well. Washed out, was how Emily had described it once. Moths tended to congregate around the brightest flames, ignoring the weak and low flickering light of muted candles. Alphas sought out strong mates, not ones reeking of chemicals and too weak to keep their eyes open.

Caitlin should be harassing one of the other omegas on the team, someone currently not lightheaded from the suppressants she had taken that morning. Maybe she’s mad, a small voice whispered in the back of Lindsey’s mind. The thought broke her concentration, and the medicine ball she had been about to toss against the wall slipped free. 

“Good thing you’re not a keeper Butter Fingers.” Celeste giggled.

Lindsey stuck her tongue out at her teammate, and retrieved the medicine ball. As she resumed her position, she couldn’t help but turn over that previous, slightly disturbing thought of Caitlin being mad.

Alphas tended to sneer at suppressants. They were a hinderance, a sometimes dangerous drug that ruined the fun of being around and with omegas. Netflix and chill was only fun when both parties were coherent enough to not chill. The medication snuffed out an omega’s sex drive and reduced them to a husk of barely suppressed pain and all consuming exhaustion. Lindsey didn’t even want to be around herself when she was on suppressants.

Plus, there was that age old mentality of why fight your instincts? Omegas where made to submit, it was encoded in their DNA as the American health education system liked to teach. Just as alphas were made to dominate, to lead and act. Suppressants messed with the order of society, they helped the weaker class regain some sense during a time where they were most vulnerable and at the mercy of alphas always hell bent on controlling everything. Good omegas heeled and did as they were told. They found alphas to fill their needs and let themselves be reduced to a vessel that could be controlled.

Lindsey had certainly had her fair share of partners that had tried their hands at cajoling and threatening her out of taking her medication. It wasn’t a far fetched idea to assume Caitlin was pissed that she hadn’t turned to her for comfort but had reached for a bottle of pills instead. Yet, Lindsey knew she was being ridiculous. 

Caitlin was her friend. Had been her friend long before they’d fallen into bed together. Sure, she was an alpha, but she wasn’t a jerk. She had never pressured Lindsey into anything, well, beyond dumb dares that involved eating repugnant protein shake concoctions. The heat was messing with Lindsey’s head, playing with her emotions and making her see threats in every shadowy corner.

Plus, when Caitlin was mad, she sulked. At the moment, Lindsey would give her left arm for Caitlin to stomp off to some corner of the room and leave her the hell alone.

“Would you kindly fuck off please?” Lindsey growled.

Caitlin was in her way again, standing before the rack of kettlebells.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Caitlin delivered the line with a smirk, and Lindsey had to clench her fists to keep from smacking the look off her face.

Despite her exhaustion, Lindsey’s famous short temper was wide awake and ready to brawl. Against her better judgement, let’s face it, Lindsey would be the first to admit she had poor impulse control, see all the yellow cards she collected each season, she stepped into Caitlin’s space. With the height advantage, it wasn’t hard to crowd the alpha against the rack of kettlebells. Taken aback, Caitlin growled a warning, canines barred.

The flash of the alpha’s teeth had an immediate effect on Lindsey, despite the sleepy mood her instincts were in. She stumbled back, catching one sneaker with the other in her haste to move away. Lightning fast, Caitlin reached out and wrapped a hand around Lindsey’s upper arm, steading her.

The sudden contact roused Lindsey’s dozing nerves, and a shiver wracked her body. The involuntary reaction was more infuriating than sleeping in, and she couldn’t help but curl her lip at Caitlin. Unfortunately for Lindsey, Caitlin was once again not fazed, and just gave her another snarl inducing smirk.

Caitlin shifted closer, hand still wrapped around Lindsey’s upper arm. Fruit shampoo, mango and something Lindsey couldn’t identify, was warring with the clean, open sky smell she usually associated with Caitlin. She wanted to take a deep breath, drag Caitlin’s scent into her lungs to the point of bursting. Maybe then Lindsey’s currently dull mind could identify the mystery fruit in the alpha’s shampoo. Jesus, listen to her. The alpha’s scent was hammering against the wall the suppressants had built around Lindsey’s instincts, chipping away at her self control. 

If she swayed forward, Lindsey could close the minuscule gap between her and Caitlin and lean into the alpha’s body. She knew the weight and heat of Caitlin’s hands, knew the alpha could help soothe the ache deep within her bones. Her instincts were whining at her, tired, so tired. It would be easy to drop her head to the crook of Caitlin’s shoulder, to breathe in the scent of a cloudless sky and close her heavy eyes.

Caitlin murmured something unintelligible, voice too low to make out amidst the other conversations in the weight room. She rested her other hand on Lindsey’s hip, fingers sneaking below the hem of her tank top to brush against skin. Another shiver raced its way up and down Lindsey’s body, making the tips of her fingers tingle. She made brief eye contact with Caitlin, her gaze falling from the alpha’s dilated pupils to her lips. Just as Lindsey was about to lose the argument her heat was having with the last rational braincell in her head, a voice cut through the haze of fruit shampoo and crisp, clean air.

“Foord!” 

The shout swallowed all other sound, everyone’s conversations skittering out and dying instantly. The voice brooked no argument, that one word a warning and command all in a simple utterance. 

Across the room, Christine Sinclair was staring them down, eyes narrowed. Lindsey was choking on whatever apology or excuse her brain wasn’t properly forming, sputtering like a fish out of water. Much to her disdain, Caitlin was fully composed, though she was frustrated. Her scent burned, like a brushfire or a merciless sun bearing down through a cloudless sky. With a huff, Caitlin let her hands fall away from Lindsey’s arm and waist. As she stepped past her, Caitlin made a point of brushing up against Lindsey’s side, body pressed close.

A whine caught in Lindsey’s chest, the sound drowned out by the clink and bang of metal exercise equipment being lowered and dropped back into place. Though it stung Lindsey’s pride, she let herself lean into Caitlin’s body, her heat winning the argument with her rational braincell. How could it not, when everything hurt and Caitlin’s warm, reassuring presence was right there?

Brought to heel by Sinc, Caitlin kept her distance for the rest of the session. It took longer than Lindsey would have liked for her to regain her composure, but she somehow managed to wrestle back control and settle into the routine of the weight training. By the end of the first session, it was clear Lindsey was going to be in for it later, as her arms and legs felt like jello that hadn’t been allowed to set properly. The ache from her bones had traveled to her muscles, and even her nerves felt pulled apart and raw.

The day dragged by, lethargic and as miserable as Lindsey felt. The second session was brutal, every repetition a battle that her body was quickly beginning to lose. Athletic staff hovered about her like buzzards around a dying animal, conscious of her current condition and worried that she was pushing too hard. At some point, Tobin sidled in next to her.

The laid back alpha was focused on the task at hand, and didn’t offer much beyond the occasional quick smile or small nod. Tobin knew how she operated, knew that words of encouragement would just rankle her, that a pep talk was unnecessary. Lindsey was already doing a damn good job of chewing herself out in her head at the moment, what she needed now was just a calm and steady presence. Someone to buoy her head above water and enable her to struggle on. 

Tobin was that life raft, had been, since PSG. 

Lindsey was pretty sure that Tobin even repeated an exercise or two, to ensure that they remained at the same stations. She was exactly what Lindsey needed in this moment, and thankfully, the team let them be. Oddly enough, despite her exhaustion and the shake in her arms and legs, Lindsey seemed to be working her way through each exercise a bit faster than the first session. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t wasting half her flagging energy on getting a certain alpha to leave her the hell alone.

While the second session dragged on, Lindsey found her gaze wandering about the room in between sets. Emily was goofing around with Ellie and Raso, making silly faces and daring the girls to push for one more rep, a little more weight. Across the room, sulking through her assignments, Caitlin scowled her way through set after set.

At one point, she caught Sinc’s eye, and the older alpha winked at her, a conspiratorial smirk flashing across her face for the briefest of moments. Lindsey couldn’t help but laugh.

Oh, captain, my captain, she thought, as she and Tobin buckled down for the final set, the promise of rest and Oreos close at hand. 

   

———

 

Three days into her heat was how long Lindsey managed to last before she caved and texted her on again off again not-quite-a-boyfriend friend. She was still pissed off at Caitlin, the alpha’s behavior in the weight room had been unacceptable, but Lindsey’s body craved a release, so enter the not boyfriend. They had an odd, unspoken understanding that they were only ever really a thing when award season rolled around and Lindsey needed a date, or if she was in heat and couldn’t find a better option. 

Emily had once said that he was her comfort zone, someone easy and familiar that failed to challenge her. Whatever they were, it worked well for Lindsey, and she only occasionally felt bad about how she strung the poor guy along. She was pretty sure he had a girlfriend anyways, or at least, a more serious on again off again not-quite-a-girlfriend girlfriend than her. Either way, the aftermath was always a lot less messy than her and Caitlin. Probably because they didn’t work together or see each other outside the occasional booty call. 

He was good in bed and didn’t insist on hanging around afterwards, and that was exactly what Lindsey needed right now. 

Glancing around her apartment, Lindsey searched for unfolded laundry or dirty clothes that hadn’t made it to the hamper. The dishes and coffee mugs that had littered her counters and coffee table were already piled into the sink. Her shoes had been kicked into the hall closet, an avalanche of Nike and Adidas waiting to knock her down the second she opened the door. No sports bras were hanging off the back of chairs and the mountain of towels in the bathroom had been shoved into the washing machine. Satisfied that the apartment was presentable, she swiped the bottle of suppressants off the island. She had decided it was a safer resting place than the edge of the sink, and padded into the bathroom.

It had taken her awhile to find the offending child safe cap under the couch after practice a few days ago, but once recovered, it had taken her even longer to wrestle the stupid thing back on. Lindsey had seriously considering just putting a piece of duck tape over the open bottle, but with her luck, she’d probably fling the pills everywhere trying to peel the tape back. So, she resigned herself to the almost impossible task of screwing the cap back on each time she opened the bottle.

Having skipped her usual morning dose and not planning on taking her evening one either, Lindsey didn’t need to wrestle with the cap tonight. The suppressants made her too sleepy, too inclined to curl up and cuddle. Better to be awake and aching, frayed and acutely aware of every sensation. Sex was always better when her head wasn’t foggy and her body numb.

She stowed the bottle in the medicine cabinet, and took a minute to look herself over in the bathroom mirror. Dark smudges were blooming beneath her eyes, the intense preseason schedule taking its toll. Sweat was beginning to glisten in the hallow of her throat, and dilated pupils regarded her warily from the mirror. She ran a hand through her already tousled hair, snarling the ends a bit. 

The fun part of the night hadn’t even started, and Lindsey looked absolutely wrecked. It was as if she had already gone several rounds and was giving herself a pep talk to so she could gain a third or fourth wind.

Her phone chimed from where she had tossed it on the couch, echoing through the quiet apartment. A knock at her door quickly followed. With a nod to herself in the mirror, Lindsey made her way over to the front door. She pulled it open, resting casually against the doorjamb, arms crossed and smirk in place, ease personified despite her appearance.

What greeted her when the door swung open caught Lindsey completely and utterly by surprise. She had been expecting a tall, broad shadow to eclipse her. The scent of dark, bitter coffee and a hint of cigarette smoke that cologne never quite masked. An infuriating, self satisfied smirk that made her lip curl and her hands itch to pin something against a wall.

Instead, a hesitant figure stood before her, lip caught between her teeth and a nervous hand fumbling with the zipper of her rain jacket.

“Caitlin?!” Lindsey’s yelp of surprise was anything but calm, cool, and collected.

The alpha blinked at her, clearly confused by her awkward reaction. Lindsey knew her appearance and scent weren’t helping either. Hair mussed, no bra under her tank top, sweat glistening along her collarbones, and the scent of her heat pulsing in time with her racing heart. Color was sitting high in her cheeks, whether from her heat or embarrassment, Lindsey wasn’t sure.

Caitlin took it all in, hand stilling on her zipper, eyes flicking from Lindsey’s bare shoulders, to her cleavage, to the boy shorts, and back up to the cleavage.

“Ugh, hi.” Caitlin stuttered, and ripped her gaze back up to Lindsey’s eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lindsey hated how shrill her voice was, but she was freaking out.

Something flashed in Caitlin’s light eyes, but too many thoughts were racing through Lindsey’s mind and she couldn’t spare the brain power to puzzle out what Caitlin was feeling. Why the hell was the alpha here? More importantly, how could she get her to leave immediately?

“You’re not texting me back so I-”

Lindsey threw her hands up in exasperation. “You, what? Thought you’d come over and I’d start answering you in person!”

Lip between her teeth again, Caitlin shrugged.

“Jesus, Caitlin.” Lindsey growled, teeth barred, absolutely and utterly exasperated with the alpha. “When someone doesn’t text you back it means they don’t want to speak to you, let alone find you on their doorstep.”

Caitlin looked taken aback and Lindsey recognized the emotion in the alpha’s eyes now, pain. Okay, maybe her recent comment had been a little harsh, but in Lindsey’s defense, Caitlin was driving her bananas. First at practice, then over text the past few days, and now this.

“I know you’re…” Caitlin let the sentence peter out, color now dancing along her cheekbones. Her eyes were skipping around again, and Lindsey gave herself a mental pat on the back for her outfit choice. “I know you’re not feeling well and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh yeah, like that’s the reason why you came here while I’m in heat.” Lindsey scoffed.

She may as well have spit in Caitlin’s face. The alpha flinched, and took a half step back. She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and clenched her jaw shut. Arms crossed, Lindsey waited for Caitlin to start yelling. The alpha rarely backed down from a fight and Lindsey knew she had to be thinking up a good retort.

While Lindsey was prepared for Caitlin to close the distance between them, words sharp and eyes blazing, she wasn’t prepared for the alpha to take another step away, eyes welling with tears.

Oh shit.

“Sorry for giving a damn.” Caitlin’s voice wobbled, almost as unsteady as Lindsey had been during the double training session a few days ago.

As Lindsey tried and failed to come up with a response, unprepared for the turn the conversation had taken, the elevator down the hall dinged, sleek doors sliding open. The visitor Lindsey had been expecting strolled into the hallway, head down and eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. Caitlin turned, glancing over her shoulder, and stilled. When she fixed her wet eyes back on Lindsey, her gaze was hard, but still full of tears.

This was not happening right now.

“Didn’t realize you were inviting a friend, Linds.” The not boyfriend pocketed his phone and closed the distance between them, dark hair tousled and a sly grin mirroring the wicked gleam in his eyes. “Did your curiosity finally get the better of you Foord? The more the merrier I always say.”

The pheromones in the hallway swelled, frustration and anger burning the back of Lindsey’s throat like bile. Crisp, clean air, and cologne tinged with smoke warred with each other, the two distinct scents wrestling as they filled Lindsey’s lungs. She fumbled for purchase on the frame of the doorway, feeling as if her legs had been taken out from under her. Perhaps skipping a few doses of suppressants had been a bad idea, she thought, as her senses were overwhelmed by the two alphas before her.

“Fuck you, Colin.” Caitlin snarled, teary eyes narrowed. 

The alpha’s voice lacked the usual bite her snarls packed, and something distant, muffled by her heat, burned in Lindsey’s chest. Shame, perhaps?

Colin tsked and sauntered closer. “Maybe if you learned to play nice Lindsey would be more inclined to spend her time with you, Foord.”

Asshole.

The thought broke through the haze her heat had created like a ray of sunlight cutting through Portland’s cloud cover. Sure, she may be mad at Caitlin, but she didn’t need help fighting her battles. As per usual, Lindsey was regretting texting Colin, but what could she do now that he was standing before her door?

Plus, the ache within her bones was unbearable, a pain so sharp and all consuming she wanted to sink to the floor with a pitiful whine. She needed him, simply because she wasn’t ready to forgive Caitlin yet. Pins and needles nipped at the tips of her fingers, and Lindsey’s grip began to give along the doorjamb. 

The devastated look on Caitlin’s face was warring with the fury burning within her teary eyes as Lindsey remained silent and didn’t jump to her defense.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Colin’s voice was so condescending that even Lindsey was curling her lip at him.

Rather than respond, Caitlin gave Lindsey one last, betrayed look, and then pushed her way past Colin. Despite the fight they were in, Lindsey knew she should have stepped up and said something, anything really, in Caitlin defense. While they may be friends at each other’s throats at the moment, they were still teammates. Yet, all rational thought had fled, along with her sympathy, as her heat took full control.

Wait them out, her instincts demanded, see who wins the argument. Strength was the answer to her pain, Lindsey’s heat whispered. This was a test. The barbs being traded were like blows being exchanged, two fighters circling each other not in a hallway but in a ring. Whoever came out on top would be strong enough to ease the ache in her bones and soother her frayed nerves her heat rationalized.

Colin laughed as Caitlin shoved him into the wall and stalked down the hallway. She didn’t call for the elevator, clearly not wanting to spend another second in Lindsey and Colin’s presence, the door to the stairwell banging open. The sound made Lindsey flinch, the pins and needles causing her hands to tremble where they remained wrapped in a white knuckled embrace around the doorjamb. 

“Well, now that we’re alone-”

Lindsey growled. “I didn’t invite you over so we could chat.”

Cigarette smoke and coffee grounds stuck in her throat, threatening her gag reflex. Like with his earlier comment, Colin’s scent weaseled its way through her heat and knocked some sense back into her head. Why had she called him again?

Colin took a confident forward, crowding Lindsey back into her apartment. She stumbled away from the rapidly advancing alpha, knees weak. The pins and needles traveled from the tips of her fingers, up her arms, through her torso, and down her legs. Lindsey fetched up against the wall just as her front door slammed shut and Colin pinned her in place.

Oh, that’s right, she called him for this, Lindsey thought belatedly as a rush of nerves overtook her and a whine clawed up her throat. Colin shoved his tongue into her mouth and jerked her hips against his. The kiss was pure aggression, all clashing teeth and stolen breath. She tried to reverse their positions, but was making a weak attempt of spinning them about. Colin broke the kiss, his insufferable grin pressed against her neck.

Lindsey growled and gave a sharp tug on his hair. Teeth scraped down the column of her throat, and she gasped as her head thunked back against the wall.

Later, when her heat had been lulled to a dull throb and Colin’s snores filled the apartment, Lindsey’s head would ache. Not because of the knock against the wall earlier, but because of what an idiot she had been, and how she kept replaying the events in the hall over and over. She’d spend the last few hours of the night staring at her ceiling, regretting all the things she could have said and didn’t, Caitlin’s devastated, tearful gaze burning worse than the pain of her heat.

The question, why was she such a shit friend and an even shittier lover, would haunt Lindsey long into the next day.

Notes:

For those waiting on Pernille and Magda, I have more than half of their first chapter written. Hang in there, I'll have it up soon, promise. Even got some Lucy and Keira cooking, though I've manage to get started somewhere in the middle of their story rather than the beginning. I'm sure I'll hash them out eventually, however.

For those who left comments on the last chapter, thank you. I fear Nahikari and Virginia are the black sheep of the story, and the least popular. I'm hoping I can convince everyone otherwise, as their storyline is my favorite.

Your thoughts are greatly appreciated, so please do not hesitate to comment. Question, any interest in Sam Kerr / Niki Stanton or Kristi / Rachel?

Chapter 8: Ada Hegerberg and Dzsenifer Marozsan 2

Summary:

In which I am not happy with this chapter but am so sick and tired of rewriting it that I'm posting it anyways. At least it is long?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Moving to France had been the single dumbest decision of her entire life. 

She had been warned that France and its people were very much their own cup of tea, but Ada had thought she could handle it. She wasn’t warm and fuzzy herself, and she had never been keen on small talk, so she had thought she’d fit right in.

Oh, how wrong she had been.

When her manager had mentioned that Lyon were interested, she had been ecstatic. Who wouldn’t have been? Lyon was one of the best clubs in the world. The resources and opportunities they could offer were nothing like what she had in Norway. Not to mention the sheer amount of talent that made up their roster.

She had envisioned herself scoring goals. Training in world class facilities and crowds overflowing in the stands of a massive stadium. More than one pair of practice shorts and two training tops, the colors never fading because she didn’t have to wash them every night for fear of what she would wear the following day. Titles and trophies crowding her shelves.

Plus, there was the silly, picture perfect vision she had of France as a whole. Free afternoons spent wandering through manicured parks. Cafes where she could read the day away and fade into the bustle of a crowd too preoccupied with their own affairs to harass her.

While she had gotten the world class facilities and extra training gear, she hadn’t been prepared for her vision of an idilic, quiet life in France to implode in her face. Lyon was a huge, bustling city. The sheer size of it astounded her. There were just so many people, and cars, and everything was always so loud. The few parks in between her apartment and the stadium were overcrowded with tourists and locals, all competing for space on the lawn or for a seat by the fountains. 

She had assumed that since she was usually allergic to small talk and engaging with people that the French would be like a long lost friend. However, the dismissive sniffs when she spoke were really beginning to grate on her nerves. Ada knew her French wasn’t perfect, but it was understandable, which was more than what most of the tourists could offer. Yet, she was ignored at bakeries and cafes, waiters passing her by without a second glance.

On the occasions she did want to fade into the background and let the teeming crowds of Lyon’s streets swallow her, she somehow managed to stand out. Overly friendly and aggressive alphas, both locals and tourists, seemed to flock to her side as if she had a glowing sign above her head. The fact that she wasn’t hanging off someone’s arm was invitation enough for every asshole within a ten mile radius. She was so tired of batting wandering hands away and thinking up fake phone numbers.

The stadium and pitch offered a bit of solace, though things weren’t going well there either. While her teammates and coaching staff thankfully understood what personal space was, she was struggling to connect with them and to learn the flow of Lyon’s game. Her team back in Norway had done their best to prepare her, but their exercises and conditioning weren’t even on parr with what Lyon put its academy kids through. 

Every gym session was torture, and every drill left her gasping for air, frustrated with her heavy touches and unclean passes. No matter how she pushed, how early she showed up, or how late she stayed to work on what they had covered that day, she couldn’t find solid ground to root herself in. Physically, and mentally, she was lagging behind, the rigorous training schedule taking its toll.

The aggression and wild abandon with which she approached the box was no where to be found. Her command of the ball was sloppy and the runs she had been making lately were mistimed, the ball always finding a space she had failed to notice and move into. On more than one occasion, Ada had caught the coaching staff joking that perhaps they should send her back to Norway in the hopes that she could recover the footballer they’d meant to sign. The jesting did the opposite of light a fire under her ass, it simply fueled the frustration eating her alive.

To top it all off, her teammates were as cold and distant as people had initially warned her the French could be, despite the semi breakthrough she had managed to make her first day. Once they had hit the pitch, and it was clear Ada’s game was off, they mostly ignored her. Perhaps they hoped that she would figure her shit out with some space and time, but Ada was more inclined to assume that they just didn’t care. This was Lyon. They could have any player in the world. So what if the Norwegian was a failed signing, they could just find some other girl with more promise and drive once Ada fully crumpled into herself.

At this point, it was only a matter of time.

 

———

 

Preseason was an endless array of drills and conditioning, though time was still made for recovery. Usually, days like today were spent in the pool or on the table, wires, tape, and the not so gentle hands of the trainers digging into their screaming muscles. Today, however, the coaching staff had let them go early, a whole afternoon and evening to themselves, no awkward team building games or ice baths to be seen.

The locker room was a hive of activity, excited voices bouncing off the walls and bags being hastily packed. Everyone was eager to get back into their street clothes and the hell out of the stadium. Ada let the wave of noise crash over her, and tried to stay out of the other girls’ way, everyone racing about and jostling one another. 

While she was struggling, practice afforded Ada the chance to get out of her apartment and off the crowded streets. The glares that were thrown at her when she lagged behind during a drill were far better than staring at the blank walls of her apartment. Sure, the barely contained snarls Lucy fought to bite back made her fumble, but Ada would take them over the suffocating silence she always found herself in at the end of the day. Practice may have been hell, but having to wander around the crowded parks or sit in her empty apartment were infinitely worse.

Unlike her older sister, Andrine, Ada didn’t turn heads and force smiles with her raucous laugh or infectious personality. She was as bracing and clear as a February morning, her comments direct and humor so dry it tended to raise eyebrows. While Andrine was most comfortable at the center of everyone’s attention, Ada preferred to keep her head down. Usually, people warmed up to her, though it seemed her Lyon teammates had taken her taciturn personality to heart.

Not wanting to be fake and wary that forcing some civility could make things worse, Ada had retreated further into herself. Her interactions outside the team had also created a lot of doubts surrounding her grasp of the French language, even though Wendie had complimented her on the first day, so Ada tried to keep her comments short. She knew going quiet was doing her no favors, but she desperately wanted to slink away from the frustrated looks both the team and coaching staff were beginning to greet her with. If she could just improve her game, all the other pieces would fall into place.

Lost in thought and in no rush to pack her bag, Ada blinked in surprise when she looked up and found she was the only one still in the locker room. Voices drifted down the hall from the open door, laughs and snippets of half made plans filtering back to her. With a defeated sigh, she grabbed the last of her things and shoved them into her duffle. She couldn’t hide out here forever, so she may as well move her ass and resign herself to rewatching something on Netflix. Or worse, tapes of recent practices.

If she poured over the footage enough, she could find the thread that had come undone. The one she had tripped over and was tugging on, quickly unraveling all the progress she had made in her form and game to date. There was only a few weeks left of preseason, and at the rate she was playing now, she wouldn’t even make the bench.

As she rounded the corner of the doorway leading out of the locker room, a dark shape detached itself from the wall and blocked the hallway. Startled, Ada stumbled back a step as Dzsenifer Marozsan seemed to materialize out of the shadows. The German’s street clothes were all some shade black, from her leather jacket to her boots. The dour ensemble, paired with the serious expression she usually wore, made Marozsan a bit intimidating to say the least.

The alpha before her closed the distance between them in a few long strides, Ada found herself backing hastily away. It wasn’t until the corner of her duffle bag bumped into the wall behind her that Ada realized the predicament she was in. When did an omega being backed into a corner by an alpha ever end well? Especially when said omega and alpha happened to be the only two people around.

Reining in her fight or flight response, Ada drew herself up to her full height and tried for an air of exasperated disinterest. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Dzsenifer, boldly meeting the German’s gaze. While the alpha was tall, Ada had just a hair of a height advantage, and hopefully, it would give her a slight upper hand if things turned ugly.

“Hi.” Dzsenifer stopped a foot or two away, voice low.

Ada regarded her coldly, holding her ground. Of everyone on the team, Dzsenifer was by far the most frustrated with her. While the German didn’t lash out with snarls, growls, and the occasional poor tackle like some people (see Lucy Bronze), she radiated a silent, furious frustration whenever they were paired together or had the misfortune of being stuck on the same scrimmage team. Honestly, Ada was surprised it had taken this long for the alpha to snap.

She made no move to respond and simply starred the alpha down. In hindsight, the aggressive eye contact wasn’t the best decision, but it beat trying to scurry around and away from the alpha. Somewhere in Norway, Andrine was banging her head against a wall at Ada’s ability to find herself in these stupid situations. 

Perhaps unnerved by her silence, Dzsenifer cleared her throat and brought a nervous hand to the back of her neck. The German even glanced down and away, breaking eye contact first. 

“Do you…” Dzsenifer picked her gaze up off the floor, and Ada couldn’t help but relax her rigid posture a bit. The woman before her was no threat, at least, not in this moment. Odd, but, better to not look a gift horse in the mouth. “Do you want to go to lunch?”

Well, this interaction was headed in the complete opposite direction than Ada had assumed it would be going. She blinked at Dzsenifer, caught off guard and unsure how to respond. She had been prepared for a confrontation, not an invitation. 

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Dzsenifer mumbled an apology for her French that Ada barely caught. The alpha was incredibly soft spoken, her tone easily swallowed by the hum of the ice machine crouching further up the hallway. Before Ada could confirm she had understood Dzsenifer’s earlier question, the woman was asking if they could switch to English. Ada gave her a nod and Dzsenifer repeated the question, her English crisp and clear, yet still prey to the hum of the ice machine.

“Lunch?” Ada repeated, still perplexed.

She sounded like a parrot, and wished she could snatch the silly question back the second the words left her lips. Now Andrine was probably rolling on the floor in Norway laughing at her. This was why Ada didn’t make friends easily, she wasn’t quick on her feet off the pitch.

Dzsenifer shrugged and put her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Yeah, there’s a cafe I like about twenty minutes away. They have really good sandwiches.”

Sandwiches, with Dzsenifer Marozsan. Definitely not how she imagined her day going. Though, her alternative was an empty, drafty apartment.

“Okay…” Ada couldn’t help but mentally kick herself at the wary tone she used.

Despite the lack of enthusiasm Ada was showing, Dzsenifer smiled. It was a small gesture, there one second and gone the next. Ada almost doubted she saw it, the German’s usually serious expression slipping back into place in a heartbeat. It seemed the frustration that had been building between them on the pitch wasn’t going to follow them off it, at least, not yet.

Dzsenifer moved to the side, shifting her bag to her other shoulder and tipped her head to the door at the end of the hall. Cautiously, Ada made her way forward, and purposely left her duffle bag on her right arm so it served as a barrier between the two of them. It was possible this whole lunch endeavor was just a ruse to drag her away from the stadium and beat some talent back into her.

“The cafe is a bit of a walk, but I promise the sandwiches are worth it.” Dzsenifer gave her that small smile again, voice low and almost drowned out by the squeak of their shoes on the polished floor.

When they reached the door at the end of the hall, Dzsenifer strode ahead and shouldered it open. Ada spared her a furtive glance as she slipped past and onto the street, but the German didn’t comment on her chilly behavior. As usual, the streets of Lyon were busy, people hurrying to their homes or cafes, trying to make the most of the lunch break. Much to her dismay, Ada was beginning to grow accustomed to the jostle of the crowd and the wandering hands that somehow always found her.

Someone smacked into the end of her duffle bag, dragging Ada off balance. While the hit wasn’t hard, the sudden appearance of an arm around her waist made her stumble. Dzsenifer drew her in, the bold touch rebalancing and setting Ada adrift all at once.

“Whoa, easy.” Dzsenifer dropped her arm, but remained close, their sides pressed together. “People here will run you down if you give them half a chance.” 

Ada didn’t respond, but she did follow the alpha down the street, head still spinning over how touch starved she was. She had practically jumped out of her skin when Dzsenifer reached out to steady her. Talk about an overreaction.

Despite the crush of people, it was as if Ada had a bubble around herself today, or more specifically, an alpha by her side. The people on the street parted like the red sea for Dzsenifer, men and women sidestepping hastily or swerving into each other to clear a path for the German. Ada couldn’t help but stare bemused as everyone before them scurried away, like rats running from a cat. She doubted they were even conscious of their reactions, everyones faces buried in their phones and seemingly relying on some ingrained instinct that demanded they give ground in the presence of an alpha. 

“Have you gotten the chance to explore the city a bit?” 

The wind and rush of cars threatened to tear Dzsenifer’s question away, but Ada just managed to catch it. Still unsure about this little outing, Ada defaulted to her usual stony silence and simply shook her head in reply. Unperturbed by her lack of a verbal response, Dzsenifer simply continued on, leading Ada through the heart of downtown.

The further behind the stadium fell, the more anxious Ada became. She didn’t have a good grasp of Lyon, beyond the walk from the stadium to her apartment building, and she doubted her ability to find her way back to familiar streets. While they were teammates, Ada didn’t know the German well, or at all really, and she wasn’t keen on being lost with someone she didn’t trust. Seemingly privy to her spiraling thoughts, Dzsenifer would sometimes break the silence between them to point out an important building or landmark. 

On more than one occasion, her low voice was almost lost within the bustle of the crowd, but Ada managed to hold onto it. Though she hated to admit it, Ada was kind of glad the other woman was making an effort to help orient where they were and what was around them. The city was still a mystery to Ada, its twisting streets a labyrinth that threatened to lure her in and never release her.

They took a series of turns and side streets, quickly leaving the main square behind. Despite the fact that they were deep within the residential area of the city, the press of bodies persisted. As before, the crowd continued to part around them, waves breaking and foaming along the sides of an immovable stone. When someone did encroach on their space, dark eyes would glance over, a warning as plain as day deep within them.

No wonder the Germans had picked her to be their captain. Walking down a crowded street was perhaps the most mundane thing in the world, yet Ada got the feeling Dzsenifer approached it the same way she did a game. She was concise and confident with her directions to Ada, hyper aware of their surroundings, and exuding authority as effortlessly as she breathed. Honestly, if Ada wasn’t so unnerved by the fact that she was lost with this unfamiliar alpha she’d be slightly amused at how intent the other woman was.

Suddenly, the stern expression was wiped away, and Ada had to do a double take. It was like watching the sun break through cloud cover on a gloomy day, Dzsenifer’s small smile stretching wide enough for teeth to flash.

Ahead of them, a dog walker approached, canines of every breed and size clustered around the poor girl’s legs. She was doing her best to wrangle her unruly pack, but all the leashes were tangled and one little brown and white dog kept tripping up her feet. A great white cloud of a dog turned its big head toward them, eyes ink drop black as it passed.

Dzsenifer reached out a hand, fingers combing through the dog’s fluffy coat as Ada grabbed her other elbow. Startled by the sudden contact, Dzsenifer paused and looked back at her, brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong, do you not like dogs?”

Ada removed her hand and gestured back at the polar bear of a dog. “I like dogs just fine, but that thing is big enough to eat the both of us.”

The alpha’s laugh was just as quiet as her voice. “Its the little ones who snap. I used to have a dog just like that one.” Dzsenifer turned around and gestured back at the retreating bear. “He was a bit bigger though, and an absolute goof. Always running through the screen door like it didn’t exist.”

She seemed a bit sad recounting the story, and Ada got the sense that it sat close to a raw nerve in her heart. Trying to lighten the mood and perhaps bring that bright smile back, Ada pulled out her phone and scrolled through Andrine’s Instagram. Her sister had once shared a cruel, old photo for throwback Thursday that never failed to lighten the mood.

“He sounds much more fun than the sheep dog that chased me around my grandmother’s farm as a kid.” Having found the post, Ada turned her phone so Dzsenifer could see the grainy picture of her as a child. Her hair was wild, tears streaming down her face, and her arms were flailing as she fled from a dog that had seemed larger than life when she was four.

“Talk about a treasured memory!” Dzsenifer laughed, that full smile making a brief appearance. 

They continued on to the cafe in a more comfortable silence after that, Ada’s nerves no longer crawling as she glanced around at the unfamiliar buildings. Turning a corner, they made their way down a quiet, narrow street. Ahead, Ada could just make out the bright flash of cars and shadowy smudges of people huddled in their coats. She could also smell the sharp tang of the river that cut through the city, though the water was too low to see from this vantage point. 

Soon, they were breaking out and onto the busy street, the crowd swallowing them again. The bubble around them persisted, people consciously and unconsciously giving Dzsenifer a wide berth. Ada couldn’t help but muse that the sober line of the alpha’s mouth, paired with the dark attire, was aiding in gaining some much needed elbow room.

“The Saone.” Dzsenifer pointed to the river, a wide stretch of green water capped by foaming white ripples now to the left of them as they strolled up the street. 

A boat chugged lazily along the river, the waves flowing away from its small hull adding to the disturbance the wind was creating. The river cut a large, open swath through the city, the buildings held at bay by the banks and the busy roads that flanked them. Wind cut through Ada’s jacket, the gusts pulling strands of her hair free and flying them about her face. 

Dzsenifer swore in German, or at least, Ada assumed it was German since she was most certainly not speaking French or English. 

“It’s nicer down here in the summer.” The alpha mumbled into the collar of her jacket.

Ada couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “You wouldn’t enjoy summer in Norway if you’re cold now.”

“If you think its warm now, just wait until July.” Dzsenifer gave her that small smile again and made an awkward gesture with her hands stuffed in her pockets. “It gets so hot, the pavement turns to soup and swallows you whole.”

Hopefully, Ada would be able to improve her game and would still be in the city come summer. They strolled along the riverbank for some time, Ada’s legs aching with every step. Why did she agree to this silly adventure again? The wind continued to tease her hair, and she batted at the blond strands blinding her.

Peeking her face out from behind her collar, Dzsenifer said very seriously, “Promise, the sandwiches are worth it.” 

They eventually made their way to a small intersection that emptied onto the busy street along the river. A row of buildings divided the two smaller streets, tapering into the top of a triangle were the three roads converged. A bright red door sat perfectly in the center of the point, and big glass windows framed either side. Small wrought iron tables and chairs lined the sides of the building, but they were empty today, the wind pushing everyone inside the cafe.

Dzsenifer laid a hand on her arm as they crossed the busy street, bags thumping against their backs as they dodged cars that barely slowed for them. Once safely across, Ada tried to subtly slip away, putting some space between them again. Failing miserably, Ada didn’t miss the sheepish expression Dzsenifer tried to hide into her collar as she stuffed her hand back into her pocket.

Luckily, Ada was saved from making some kind of half assed apology by the welcoming red door of the cafe, which Dzsenifer was holding open for her. Just as she did in the stadium, Ada slipped by quickly, unease prickling across her skin as she put her back to the alpha. Logically, she knew Dzsenifer wasn’t going to jump her, but her instincts rarely followed logic and were always signaling some kind of alarm. Andrine was also partially to blame, her older sister ingraining into her at a young age all the things she should never, ever do in the presence of an alpha.

Once inside, Ada did her best to keep her bag from knocking any of the patrons out. The cafe was packed, a long line snaking up to the counter and all the little tables taken. The warm, welcoming scent of freshly baked bread encompassed her, and Ada couldn’t help but smile as she glanced around the room. Sausages and other cured meats hung behind the heavy wooden butcher block that made up the main counter. Baskets of bread were stacked haphazardly in every and any open space.

An older man in a white apron spotted them from behind the counter and waved at Dzsenifer enthusiastically. He somehow navigated his way around the bread baskets and crammed sitting area, a big smile lifting up his bushy mustache. Upon reaching them, he started speaking German, the words jumbled and foreign in Ada’s ears. He gestured for them to follow and pushed his way through the sea of tables.

Despite how busy the cafe was, one or two tables along the windows were covered with cloth. The cafe owner brought them over to one such table, balling the table cloth in his hand has he motioned for them to sit. He and Dzsenifer traded a few comments in German as Ada tried to stow her duffle without smacking anyone in the head. Surprisingly successful, she took a seat and watched amused, as Dzsenifer shrugged out of her jacket. The alpha was trying to avoid the irritated glares of patrons milling about, hoping for another table to miraculously appear. 

Raking her wind teased hair out of her face, Ada twisted the snarled locks into a bun that hopefully looked semi decent. She spared a quick glance at her phone, taping out a message to her boyfriend who was bored at work and sending her silly memes. The cafe owner thumped Dzsenifer on the back a few times, laugh filling his shop and slipping through the cracks beneath the cheerful red door and onto the street.

The alpha sunk into her chair, cheeks bright with color as she nodded along and responded in German. The whole room was staring at them, and while Ada would normally be uncomfortable with the attention, she couldn’t help but be amused at how utterly mortified Dzsenifer was. She was doing her best to sink into her chair and perhaps through the floor as well, but the cafe owner wasn’t letting her off so easy. 

After a few minutes, the cafe owner seemed to decide that his non-German patrons deserved some attention, and gave Dzsenifer one more hearty slap on the back before he began to shuffle away. As he passed Ada, the cafe owner smiled and patted her arm. He turned to say something in German over his shoulder, and the comment had Dzsenifer sliding so far down in her seat that her face was level with the table.

Rendered speechless by the comment, or perhaps by the furious blush now staining her cheeks, the alpha across from Ada brought a hand to the bridge of her nose and hid behind it. Unsure what had been said, Ada settled for a polite smile and nod, which seemed to be the right response as the cafe owner’s smile widened. He hustled away, calling for orders in French from the people in line at the counter.

“He’s worse than my father and brother combined.” Dzsenifer moaned from behind her hand, eyes scrunched closed.

Ada laughed, a true, genuine laugh. Perhaps the first one since coming to France weeks ago.

“Care to translate what he said or should I draw my own conclusions from your awkward response?” Ada deadpanned.

Blush deepening, to the point where her face was the same color as the door to the cafe, Dzsenifer hid behind her hand again. It was such a ridiculous position for the alpha to be in that Ada couldn’t help but smirk a bit. Who would have thought that someone as stern as Dzsenifer could be so easily flustered?

“Let’s just pretend all of that didn’t happen, yeah?” Dzsenifer sat up, hand falling away and wiping the blush from her now serious face.

Having sat up, the alpha seemed to realize that the room’s attention was still on them. Patrons who hadn’t been lucky enough to have a table saved were milling about, sulkily eating their croissants and throwing dirty looks. Ada could feel their stares like a heavy hand on the back of her neck, and she fidgeted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. A few people were even so bold as to mumble an unkind word or two in French, clearly believing from the earlier interaction with the cafe owner that the women before them didn’t speak French. Dzsenifer took slow and deliberate stock of the room, dark eyes landing on each person staring, a growl building in her chest.

While the alpha was soft spoken, to the point where you almost needed her to repeat herself, the growl rumbling through her chest effortlessly drowned out the conversations around them. Quickly taking the hint, or rather the threat, to heart, the people around them returned their attention to their food. As Dzsenifer leaned forward to rest her arms on the table, growl still grating up and out of her chest, Ada found herself unconsciously pressing into the back of her chair.

Chancing a glance at the angry alpha, Ada startled and banged her knee against the table as dark eyes flashed to her’s. Growl cutting off abruptly, Dzsenifer made to reach forward, but pulled up short when Ada curled her lip and scooted her chair back a fraction. Muffled conversation and the clink of silverware against plates filtered back around them.  

“Sorry,” Dzsenifer whispered sheepishly.

Ada shrugged, shoulder’s jumping a bit as the tension along her body broke. “Care to explain why you invited me to lunch?”

She hadn’t meant for her voice to be so cold, but she barely knew this woman. Following the alpha here had been stupid, she had no idea where they were in relation to the stadium and the walk back to her apartment was going to be brutal if she ever managed to find her way back. Thrown off by the question and her tone, Dzsenifer began to play with her hands, fingers twining and untwining nervously.

The German was saved from answering the question as the cafe owner appeared beside them suddenly, setting two plates and silverware on the table. Open faced sandwiches, topped with cured ham and two fried eggs each, greeted them. The man bustled away calling to an employee across the room that seemed to be fretting over an empty basket of bread.

“Really good sandwiches?” Dzsenifer offered unconvincingly in response to Ada’s earlier question.

Ada simply starred her down.

With a sigh, Dzsenifer picked up her fork and knife, cutting a piece of her open faced sandwich carefully. “I’ve been a shitty teammate. I remember how hard it was joining the team last year, and I should have stepped up sooner to offer you some help.”

Ada furrowed her brow at the German, unsure where this explanation was going. A beat or two passed, the conversations around them swelling to fill the tiny cafe. Dzsenifer took a careful bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly in an attempt to buy herself some more time. A few hungry patrons pushed their way inside the cafe, the line to the counter snaking amongst the tables now. Trying and failing to wait the alpha out, Ada bit.

“Why didn’t you?” Her voice was still even, but she had thawed the ice from it.

Dark eyes flicked to her and then fell away, trained on the table and plates before them.

“You’re very intimidating.” Dzsenifer whispered, the admission so quiet Ada almost missed it.

Unsure how to respond, Ada picked up her fork and twirled it thoughtfully. It was no secret that Ada wasn’t her sister, all sugar and easygoing smiles. However, if the stern alpha before her, who happened to captain one of the most successful women’s national teams, was scared of her, it was possible that Ada hadn’t made much of an effort to give her new teammates a chance.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the boat on the river making its way past the cafe and out of sight. People continued to rush past the windows, collars turned up high and hands stuffed into pockets. While the petty part of her wanted to hate the sandwich, it was ridiculously good and definitely worth the walk, despite the ache in Ada’s legs. After picking her way through the first half, she decided it was time to woman up and put her fork down.

Dark eyes locked onto her, and the anxiety that had bloomed in her chest when she realized she was lost and alone with the alpha on the street raised its ugly head. Tension crawled its way across her body, making her muscles lock and breath shorten. Despite the fact that Dzsenifer had admitted that she was slightly afraid of her, Ada couldn’t help her knee jerk reaction to the alpha’s sudden, undivided attention.

However, the uneasy feeling quickly dissipated when the bite of toast, ham, and egg balanced on Dzsenifer’s fork slid free and broke through the yolk of her second egg. Grumbling, the alpha pouted as she fought to retrieve the bite of sandwich, her brow furrowed in concentration. How someone could exude so much authority and control, and then in the next breath do something like this, was a dichotomy Ada couldn’t wrap her head around. 

“Want me to call for help?” Ada quipped, nodding at the mess Dzsenifer was making of her sandwich.

The German sneered playfully at her and doubled down on her efforts to retrieve the wayward piece of bread and ham. After a few tries, she managed to get ahold of them, but not before she smeared her second egg all over the plate. 

“Got it in the end.” Dzsenifer said triumphantly, fork pointed at Ada.

Throat suddenly tight, Ada bit her lip. “Yeah, but at what cost?”

Sensing the sudden shift in the conversation, Dzsenifer tipped her head, eyes roaming over Ada’s face. Shocked by her outburst, Ada resisted the urge to curl her lip and settled for ripping her gaze away from Dzsenifer. She focused on the river and the ripples the wind was creating. Blood was rushing in her ears, anger drowning out the sounds of the cafe and people around them.

“Depends on how open you are to change.” Dzsenifer replied carefully.

Ada nodded, teeth sunk into her cheek in an attempt to hold back tears. All the frustration from the past couple of weeks was building up inside her, threatening to boil over. She cut another piece of sandwich and popped it into her mouth, trying to buy herself some time. Dzsenifer simply waited her out, gaze unreadable and head still tipped thoughtfully to the side.

“I know what I’m doing wrong.” Voice shaking, Ada gripped her fork so hard her knuckles turned white. “I know how to fix it too, but every time I try to fix it, I just fuck it up more.”

Dzsenifer hummed, eyes wandering to the river and then back to Ada’s face. “Mind if I share some advice?”

With a defeated sigh, Ada threw her fork down, the metal clattering against the plate, and gestured at the German to continue. As conversations around them fizzled out and dark eyes regarded her carefully, Ada slowly realized how aggressive her recent display had been. She waited with bated breath for Dzsenifer to chastise her, but the alpha simply leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“You spend too much time looking for me on the pitch. Having your head up and on a swivel is good until you’re caught ball watching, or in your case, tracking me obsessively and worrying where and how I’m going to serve the ball. Its driving me bananas, honestly.” 

She must have had a confused expression on her face because Dzsenifer leaned forward and began to gesture with her hands. Slowly, the movements began to resemble plays her old club team had clung to and run every season. Floored by the fact that Dzsenifer had clearly watched old game footage of her, Ada forgot the tense reply she had been ready to deliver.

“With your old club team in Norway you had to do a lot of unnecessary work.” Dzsenifer hummed thoughtfully and ducked her head, fork playing with a bite of her sandwich. “To put it nicely, your midfielders weren’t good at reliably serving you the ball, which forced you to babysit them.”

Taking another bite of her sandwich, Dzsenifer’s dark eyes regarded her thoughtfully as Ada sat in stunned silence. When she didn’t offer a response, the alpha continued.

“I can assure you that I don’t need to be babysat, and while I appreciate forwards backtracking to offer assistance, you have to find space and make a run in order for me to serve you the ball.”

“Cocky in your ability to stave off pressure, aren’t you?” Ada wanted to kick herself for her tone, but this was how she operated, all vinegar and no honey.

To her credit, Dzsenifer didn’t rise to the challenge. Rather than be upset with Ada’s attitude, the German seemed to be amused, a small smile flitting across her face.

“I’m confident in my ability to research my opponents and teammates, learning what runs they like to make and how to best compliment their play or counter it.”

It was impossible to be upset with an answer as professional as that. Deciding that thinking about her next words carefully may do some good, Ada tucked back into her sandwich. Dzsenifer copied her, though the the easy silence they had held on the street after the dog encounter fractured.

“How do you…” Ada tapped her fork against her plate, willing the frustration out of her voice. “What kind of runs do you want me to make?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Dzsenifer gave her that small smile again. “Whatever runs you think you need to make are the runs I want you to make.”

Leaning forward, Ada let a growl edge into her reply. “Dragging me out here to make fun of me isn’t amusing-”

Quick as her smile, Dzsenifer’s all consuming growl rose and fell as her dark eyes locked onto Ada. Startled, Ada let her statement drop. While the alpha across from her had been content to let Ada bitch and moan through most of their lunch, she seemed to have drawn a line in the sand suddenly. 

“I’m not making fun of you.” Dzsenifer leaned forward slowly, closing the distance between them. “I want you to make the runs you’re comfortable making, because I’m capable of finding you and getting the ball to your feet. Trust me to find you, and then we’ll work out the kind of runs Lyon prefers, okay?”

With that, Dzsenifer broke the eye lock and slumped back in her chair, fork chasing the last bites of her sandwich around her plate. Dizzy with relief, Ada stayed where she was, brain trying and failing to process what just happened. How she had managed to walk away from that interaction without being put firmly in her place was a mystery Ada was sure she would never solve. 

“Sorry I’ve been an intimidating bitch.” Ada bit her lip as Dzsenifer looked up at her, probably curious as to where she was taking this line of conversation. “I know I make a shit first impression and haven’t had much success on the follow up.”

What Ada was quickly beginning to associate as Dzsenifer’s signature smile, that small upturn of lips that came and went so quickly, made a brief appearance. “At least you have a good resting bitch face, and not a confused-as-to-what-book-she-should-pick-off-the-shelf face.”

Choking on a laugh and her most recent bite of sandwich, Ada coughed and managed to grate out, “Who described you like that?”

“Laugh a little Ada, before you suffocate.” With a snort, Dzsenifer did her best to mop up the egg she had smeared across her plate earlier with her last piece of bread. “Popp’s always shouting stupid things like that across the pitch. It’s a miracle we haven’t lost more games because she’s too busy busting my balls.”

This time, Ada did laugh, and the sound jumping up past the frustration simmering her chest surprised her. Encouraged by her reaction, Dzsenifer smiled again and cleared her throat. Schooling her features into a comical imitation of what Ada assumed was Alexandra Popp’s usual game face, Dzsenifer pointed with her fork.

“Maro, just pick a goddamn book already!”

Ada giggled, and Dzsenifer continued, letting her accent bleed through.

“Maro, stop reading the reviews and watch the movie. Maro, you’re like a housewife at the supermarket, stop touching all the fruit and just pick one! Maro, no one reads the terms and conditions before they check off agreed.”

“That last one is great!” 

Dzsenifer nodded, smile sticking around for longer than a heartbeat for once. “I almost missed the ball when she threw that one at me.”

“My sister always complains I’m too serious, so she’s constantly dicking around during training. She once slide tackled our coach just to make me laugh.” Ada recounted fondly.

“Damn, that’s a ballsy move.” Dzsenifer glanced around the room and then leaned forward conspiratorially. She dropped her voice, which was naturally low, to a breath of a whisper. “The French don’t appreciate quality pranks like that, so forgive me in advance for not ruining my career.”

Ada shook her head. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can manage so long as you continue to share your favorite food spots in the city.”

“Told you the sandwiches were good.” Dzsenifer replied smugly, eyes bright.

Glancing around at the yellow walls, big windows, and overflowing baskets of rolls, Ada nodded in agreement. “Yes, they were defiantly worth the walk, and this place is super cute.”

“The walk is only bad when its cold, raining, or during preseason, but yeah, its definitely worth it.” Dzsenifer laughed a little. “I got lost one day shortly after I moved here and stumbled on the cafe while Mr. Muller was painting the door. He’d just opened and thought the bright color would attract more guests.”

“Seems to have worked.” Ada gestured to the teeming room, the line to the counter still snaking back towards the door.

Dzsenifer hummed thoughtfully, placing her fork and knife on her empty plate. “It reminds me of home.”

Spurred on by the German’s melancholy tone, Ada reached forward, letting her hand lay atop Dzsenifer’s. The alpha had been drumming her fingers against the table, clearly a bit uncomfortable with her resent admission. As Ada’s hand closed over her’s, Dzsenifer stilled her fingers and shyly glanced out the window. Initiating contact like this with an alpha she barely knew was a bit out of left field for Ada, but homesickness she understood, painfully so.

After a beat or two, Ada slid her hand away and tried her best to make polite conversation. She was determined to make more of an effort, considering how far Dzsenifer had put herself out there. They chatted for another hour or two, the lunch rush slowly trickling out of the cafe and back onto the street. 

Much to Ada’s dismay, Dzsenifer insisted on paying once they were ready to head out, but the alpha did promise Ada could return the favor soon. It was hard to ignore the warmth bleeding through her chest at the implication that this lunch wasn’t a one off pity treat. Before agreeing to spend the afternoon with the German, Ada hadn’t realized just how desperate she was for someone to talk to, let alone someone to laugh with. FaceTime could only sustain a person so much, everyone needed a friend or two who was physically there and accessible. 

As they made their way back to the stadium, Ada reflected on her behavior around the team and decided that she needed to make more of an effort to not be an intimidating ice queen. Today had been fun, minus the touchy discussion about her performance on the field. She hoped that she’d manage to be a bit more welcoming like her sister as the day wore on, because she wouldn’t mind being friends with Dzsenifer Marozsan.

 

———

 

“This…” Ada spun around in a circle next to the metro stop, bewildered. “This isn’t my neighborhood.”

The buildings were too tall and modern, sleek facades staring back at her, alien and leering. After reaching the stadium, Dzsenifer had brought them to the metro, offering to help Ada figure out the confusing system of lines and stops. Ada’s aching legs had rejoiced, and she’d accepted the offer, following Dzsenifer down the stairs and to the platform. While waiting, she had mentioned Lucy lived in her building, and Dzsenifer had lit up, explaining she knew exactly where to go.

“Are you sure?” Dzsenifer frowned at her, and the people trudging past them on the street gave her a wider berth. “Here, lets go down the street, maybe you’re just not used to walking to the building from this direction.”

They wandered down the street, Dzsenifer’s gaze burning a hole into the side of her head as Ada glanced around anxiously. Nothing looked familiar. Not the too tall buildings, or the road, or the trees lining the sidewalk. This was definitely not her neighborhood.

At a wide, double set of glass doors, the German paused. She gestured to the lobby Ada could see beyond the doors, light reflecting off the polished floors. There was even a front desk, a bored looking attendant reclined in his chair and on his phone.

“This isn’t my building.” Ada shook her head and edged away from the alpha, afraid of how she would react to the news. “My street doesn’t have trees lining it and my building is at least 50 years older than this.”

“You said you lived with Lucy?” Dzsenifer asked, clearly very confused.

Ada nodded, carefully judging the distance between them. She had to be outside of the range of Dzsenifer’s arm by now, as people on the street were smacking into the duffle slung over her shoulder again.

“Yes, she helped me unlock my front door and scared off my creepy neighbor.”

Dzsenifer frowned, dark eyes narrowed. “Creepy neighbor?”

The look on the alpha’s face, paired with the threat of her growl, which grated through her recent question, was freaking Ada out. She was sure they were seconds away from a shouting match, and considering today was the only time they had actually hung out, meant that Ada had no idea just how volatile Dzsenifer could be.   

“Let’s focus on the fact that I have no idea where the hell I am right now.” Ada said, cringing a bit as her voice jumped an octave or two.

Hand still in the pocket of her jacket, Dzsenifer gestured to the glass doors and lobby again. “Lucy lives in this building, one floor below mine and Lisa’s. Amandine and Eugenie live here too.”

Now it was Ada’s turn to frown. “Really? Maybe I live with Lucy’s girlfriend then?”

“Lucy doesn’t have a…oh my god!”

The anxiety that had reared its ugly head on the street a few hours ago seemed to smack into Ada like a passerby. She growled as Dzsenifer’s voice rang up and down the street like a bell, the alpha reaching for her, hand drawn from her pocket.

“You caught Lucy with a one night stand!” Dzsenifer seemed too lost in the sudden realization to notice that Ada was freaking out. “This is too fucking funny. Was she blond?”

Growl dying, Ada managed a nod as she gripped the straps of her duffle, knuckles white.

“Lucy’s got a thing for blonds and is allergic to relationships, be warned.” Dzsenifer laughed, hand holding her side. “Too funny, what are the odds?”

Thrown off by the fact that Dzsenifer wasn’t upset with her, Ada could only stare bewilderedly at the alpha. If she had made Andrine or her boyfriend traipse around, they would have been furious. Especially in Andrine’s case, she loathed preseason and would not have been happy Ada was dragging her sore body all over Lyon.

“Let’s go up so I can put my bag down and then I’ll walk, well, mostly metro with you, back to your place.”

Will a small shake of her head, Ada took another step back, whacking some poor pedestrian with her bag. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Dzsenifer frowned, finally taking in the space that separated them. Some rude man even managed to push his way in between them, Ada having backed up far enough to put that kind distance between her and the German alpha. 

“Do you want to wait in the lobby, where its warm at least?” Dzsenifer moved to open one of the lobby doors, glancing expectantly over her shoulder. 

Ada made no move to follow, and Dzsenifer finally seemed to catch onto the current mood.

“Okay, just,” the German glanced up and down the street, anxiously scanning the faces of each person bustling by, “give me two minutes and I’ll be right back. Pull your address up on your phone, I bet I’ll recognize the neighborhood if I can get a look at it.”

With that, Dzsenifer slipped inside the lobby of the apartment building and the street swallowed Ada once more. Without the alpha by her side, the bubble that once encompassed her burst and people begin to encroach on her personal space. She swung her duffle around to her front, hoping it would create a bit of a barrier. 

It felt like barely a second had passed before Dzsenifer was jogging out of the lobby and back onto the street. Her long stride ate the distance between them effortlessly, and Ada had to force herself to remain still as the alpha encroached on her space in an effort to see her phone screen. Side by side, the bubble reformed around them, and the crowd ebbed away from Ada. If nothing else, she should try to become better friends with Dzsenifer just for the elbow room she created on the busy streets.

“I think I know where this is.” Dzsenifer leaned over Ada’s shoulder, fingers swiping over her phone screen to zoom the image of Google maps out. “However, if I’m wrong we can just text Lucy for the address of her most recent booty call.”

Ada glanced at Dzsenifer out of the corner of her eye. They were standing so close together that Ada couldn’t turn her head to face the alpha. 

“C’mon,” Dzsenifer edged away, but dropped a hand to the small of Ada’s back to guide her around, “we’ve got to head to the stop a block up, the one we used earlier is on a line that’ll drop us too far away from your neighborhood.”

 

———

 

“Perhaps I miscalculated.” Dzsenifer’s apology was spoken into the collar of her jacket, the wind having picked up.

The metro stop up the block from Dzsenifer’s apartment had dropped them so far from Ada’s apartment, they would have been better off walking the entire way there. Every step was agony, Ada’s muscles screaming at her and begging for a rest. If she had known she would have spent her day off running around the city, she would have stayed at the stadium and just run through drills.

Though, her stomach was quick to chime in that if she had stayed at the stadium she wouldn’t have gotten the chance to experience that sandwich.

“Hey,” Dzsenifer did that awkward thing where she gestured with her hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “at least you’re getting to see the city!”

Ada turned and glared at the other women, gaze so sharp, it sliced right through the alpha’s small smile.

“I’ll shut up.” Dzsenifer mumbled as she retreated into her jacket collar.

With a laugh, Ada bumped their shoulders together, the sudden contact making Dzsenifer stumble. “Relax, I’m just playing around.”

“The violence is wholly unnecessary, Ada!” Dzsenifer crowed while spinning away from Ada as she made a move to encroach on the alpha’s space again.

The spin sent Dzsenifer right into the path of a very disgruntled businessman, who almost dropped his briefcase in surprise as the German smacked into him. While the man chewed a very abashed Dzsenifer out, Ada scurried away, head down and laughter barely contained. She made it halfway down the block before Dzsenifer caught up with her, face red with embarrassment.

“You’re a terrible teammate.” Dzsenifer sulkily hissed as Ada broke out into a fit of giggles. “The other girls, with the exception of Lucy, wouldn’t have left me to that fate.”

“You sure about Lucy? She swooped in and scared my creepy neighbor shitless. Seems to me she’s always up for a fight.”

Brow furrowed, Dzsenifer regarded her carefully with those fathomless eyes. “I think you need to share this story about the creepy neighbor while we complete our trek.”

Ada relented, even though she regretted bringing up the incident. They had been having fun, but now that stern expression had settled back over Dzsenifer’s face.

 

———

 

“Wait!” 

Ada fumbled for a handhold on Dzsenifer’s leather jacket, backtracking to the street they had just hurried past. The alpha trailed behind her as Ada searched for a street sign. So far from the center of the city, the crowd had thinned considerably, and Ada was thankful she didn’t have to dodge hustling pedestrians.

She wandered up the street, the crumbling facades of the historic buildings watching her curiously as she passed. As she walked, Ada desperately wished she paid more attention to her surroundings during her morning hikes to the stadium. The street looked kind of familiar, but that could just be her exhaustion talking, desperate for her to give up and sit down on the curb.

“I haven’t been to this part of the historic area before.” Dzsenifer mused as she caught up to Ada. “Need me to text Lucy for that address?”

Rolling her eyes, Ada ignored Dzsenifer’s cheeky question. They strolled along the street for a few minutes before Ada brightened, her aching legs crying out in relief. Ahead, her building loomed, a bit taller than the other apartments that clustered along the narrow road. The yellow stone was smudged with pollution, grey streaks clustering around the petite wrought iron balconies that framed the tall windows.

“Oh, no fair!” Dzsenifer whined as Ada crossed the street and headed toward her building. “Why do the new signings get a balcony?”

“Don’t be too jealous, the doors onto them don’t open unfortunately.”

Dzsenifer overtook her and tried to open the heavy front door of the building. “They open, there’s just a complicated lock up at the top of them that everyone misses. Can I come up and see if they’ll open?”

The alpha underestimated just how bad the door stuck and almost pulled herself off balance. Ada shouldered her aside and quite literally put her back into opening the door and managed to jerk it open.

“Sure, though you seem to have bad luck when it comes to doors.” Ada said primly. 

“We should hold weight training here, few more days battling that door and you’ll be able to out-lift the keepers.” Subtly, Dzsenifer rolled her shoulder and did her best to ignore Ada’s smug expression. 

The lobby of the building was dim, despite the bright and cloudless day outside. Everything looked a bit tired, and sections of the wallpaper were beginning to peel away. It was a far cry from the bright and clean lobby of Dzsenifer’s building, and Ada was suddenly nervous again. Why she cared what the German thought of her apartment building was a bit mind boggling, but Ada didn’t have time to puzzle it out. She moved toward the dark stairwell and Dzsenifer frowned.

“No elevator?”

Ada shook her head and shrugged an apology.

“Screw historical charm.” Dzsenifer grumbled as she trudged over to the stairs and followed Ada up.

Once at the landing to her floor, Ada couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Preseason was a bitch, even before you started lugging your duffle bag all over the city. She shuffled out of the stairwell and down the hall, relieved to find no one sitting outside her door. Behind her, Dzsenifer bypassed the landing and climbed up another stair or two. Ada glanced over her shoulder while she fumbled with her lock as the alpha leaned up the stairs slightly.

“What are you doing?” Ada questioned as she dropped her duffle and tried to force the door with her shoulder.

Dzsenifer climbed back down and meandered down the hall, past Ada and to the other stairwell. She stood on the landing, glancing up and then down the stairs, blending into the shadows so well she almost faded away.

“Just being nosy.” She replied evenly, her low voice echoing in the stairwell.

Now that they were no longer on the street or in a crowded cafe, Ada could finally catch the alpha’s scent without it being muddled by everyone around them. She had been prepared for it to be something imposing, kind of like her stern demeanor, but it was oddly subtle. The barest hint of turned earth maybe?

“Need help?”

Ada startled, Dzsenifer suddenly right next to her. She backed away from her door, teeth sunk into her lip in an attempt to keep a blush from rising to her cheeks. Lock her away in an unfamiliar city for a few weeks with minimal human contact, and she was suddenly day dreaming about any alpha within a five mile radius. Pull it together, she chastised herself.

Shoulder braced against the door, Dzsenifer lifted the door handle as she turned it. Surprisingly, it swung open much easier than Ada expected. The alpha gave her a triumphant smile, and she quickly schooled her features into an unimpressed mask.

“Your apartment reminds me of the one I lived in last year. It was on the other side of the historic section and all the doors had hanging hinges, making them drag and stick against the floor.”

Determined to remain unimpressed, Ada sniffed. “Thanks so much Lyon’s Number One Tour Guide.”

That signature, small smile flashed before Dzsenifer edged away from Ada’s open apartment door. Suddenly shy, the alpha stuffed her hands into her pockets, and glanced back at the stairs, waiting for Ada to collect her bag and head in. As before, Ada’s muscles tensed when she was forced to put her back to the other woman, but she stomped the anxious feeling down. If they were going to be friends, she needed to stop being irrational.

Once inside, Ada tossed her duffle down by the hall closet and turned to make sure Dzsenifer wasn’t still hovering in the hall. Seemingly plucking up some courage, the German had stepped inside, tugging the door closed behind her. With her hand balanced on the doorknob, she began to unlace her boots and Ada couldn’t resist poking fun at her, just a bit.

“Well you sure make yourself right at home fast.” She stated, tone dry and sharp.

Dzsenifer froze, one boot off and the other half unlaced, head snapping up. She fumbled with an apology until she realized Ada was laughing at her silently. With a pout, she pulled her other boot off and straightened, grumbling to herself about how Ada was most certainly not funny as she shucked off her jacket.

As Dzsenifer wandered into the living room of the apartment, Ada couldn’t help but fidget a bit. The apartment was sparse, save for the pieces of essential furniture Lyon had provided. Ada had been here long enough that she should have made an effort to personalize the place, but she never seemed to have the motivation to do so. Maybe, in addition to not trying hard enough with her teammates, Ada hadn’t been trying very hard with France as a whole.

“Mind if I play with the doors?” Dzsenifer motioned to the tall, almost floor to ceiling length French doors that dominated most of the living room.

Pulling the curtains away, Ada helped Dzsenifer push the bright green sitting chair over to the window so she could stand on it. After some precarious teetering, Dzsenifer found her balance and began to fumble at the complex latch at the top of the doors. They had been painted over so many times, it was easy to ignore them if you didn’t know what you were looking for.

Flakes of white paint drifted down and over the chair as Dzsenifer fussed with the lock. Eventually, after a lot of swearing and several comments over how many soccer players does it take, she managed to get the lock unstuck. With a triumphant whoop, she jumped down from the chair, only to slip on the old wooden floor in her socks. 

Without thinking, Ada grabbed her, hands fumbling for purchase along the other woman’s hips. Unfortunately for Dzsenifer, Ada was wearing socks too and the alpha’s momentum simply dragged her off balance. As they fell, Dzsenifer twisted sharply, her back thunking against the floor as Ada fell atop her. Ada at least had the hindsight to sneak a hand beneath the alpha’s head before they landed on the floor, and by the way it throbbed, she was sure Dzsenifer would have ended up with a concussion.

Winded and stunned by their clumsiness, the two women simply starred at one another wide eyed. Dark, bottomless eyes held Ada in place almost as securely as the arms wrapped around her waist. After a few startled seconds, Dzsenifer wheezed, and Ada scrambled off her, horrified. Her concern over how hurt the midfielder was quickly turned to anger when she realized the alpha was laughing. Laughing! And to think she had just tried to kill them.

“I’m…” Dzsenifer broke off into another laughing fit, words being forced out almost painfully, “…sorry. So sorry!”

“Preseason is shit, but not so terrible that you have to break us to get out of it!” Ada tried to growl, but Dzsenifer’s laughter was infectious.

Just like at the cafe, Ada found herself really laughing, joy fizzing against all the pent up frustration inside her and burning it away. She tried to stand, but her foot slipped when she brought it under herself. Hands still braced against the floor, Ada didn’t fall, but the silly little slide only fueled their hilarity. Belly sore and tears now streaming down her face, Ada flopped down on her back next to Dzsenifer, who was gasping for air in between laughs.

Shoulders shaking against one another, time seemed to slip away. Ada honestly had no idea how long they spent on the floor, but by the time they managed to gain control of themselves, it was getting dark. Wiping furiously at her streaming eyes, Ada took a few deep breaths, chest and diaphragm aching. Even this close to the alpha, her scent was still muddled, earth and something Ada couldn’t place barely leaving an impression on her senses.

“Oh, look.” 

Dzsenifer pointed up at the high ceiling, voice slightly awed, and Ada followed the line of her arm. Shadows from the streetlights that had just flickered on played along the white, intricately carved plaster of the apartment ceiling. Cherubs twisted and turned through wreaths of flowers, the leaves and petals painstakingly designed. Ada had known the building was old, but she hadn’t realized it was decked out in Baroque details.

At the center of the ceiling, clusters of roses bloomed and spread outward. Ada glanced from the ceiling to the arm Dzsenifer was slowly lowering. Without thinking, she reached forward and wrapped her hand around Dzsenifer’s forearm, finger tapping the end of her sleeve of tattoos. Gently, Ada moved Dzsenifer’s arm so the rose etched into her skin lined up with the roses on the ceiling.

“Seems roses are an enduring design.” Ada whispered.

Dzsenifer hummed and drew her arm away. Carefully, the alpha got to her feet, and Ada did the same. That stern, closed off expression had drawn across Dzsenifer’s face again, like a set of heavy drapes. Somehow, Ada always managed to say the wrong thing. Desperate to rectify her mistake, and anxiety rising up the back of her throat the longer they awkwardly milled around not meeting each other’s eyes, Ada scooted over to the french doors and pulled them open.

More paint flaked to the floor, over the chair, and her hair as a gust of bracing nighttime air rushed into the room. The balcony was tiny, barely more than a subtle overhang, and framed by rusty wrought iron shaped like vines. If she angled it just right, she may be able to fit the front of the green chair onto the balcony, but it would take some serious pivoting to wedge it there.

“While you can’t eat brunch on it, you’re still going to be thankful you’ve got at least a third of a balcony when summer rolls around.” 

Dzsenifer hadn’t moved, but it seemed the gust of wind had wiped some of the sterns from her face. She stood in the center of the living room, arms crossed in an attempt to keep herself warm in her t-shirt. For someone who seemed to run cold, she was poorly dressed for the weather.

“Maybe I can sit here and watch the street swallow people whole.”

“Laugh all you want, but its hot as hell here in the summer. Come July, you’ll be thanking me for almost killing you to get those doors open, mark my words.” Dzsenifer wagged a finger at her and began to collect her things.

With a snort, Ada closed the doors and drew the blinds. She wandered about the sitting area and kitchen, flicking lights on as Dzsenifer laced her boots up. For the first time since sitting down at the cafe, Ada checked her phone, and was surprised to see she’d missed several messages and calls from her boyfriend. She taped out a quick promise to call him later, and moved to the front door so she could see Dzsenifer out.

“Thank you for the sandwiches, the heart to heart, and the wholly unnecessary walking tour of the city.” Ada said while she pulled the door open for Dzsenifer.

The alpha rolled her eyes. “You forgot to thank me for almost breaking you and opening your balcony doors so you can be the most popular girl on the team come July.”

Ada tipped her head, confused by the popular commented, and Dzsenifer elaborated.

“Your apartment is going to be at least 10 degrees cooler with those big ass doors flung wide open through the summer. The team is going to be fighting each other for an invite to your place just so they can lay on your floor and melt a bit more slowly.”

“Sounds like I should start planning what favors I want from everyone.” Ada laughed.

Dzsenifer smiled. “I’ll trade you sandwiches and other good eats in the city to ensure I stay at the top of the call list.”

“Deal!”

With that, Dzsenifer wished her a goodnight in French and wandered down the hall, hands stuffed into the pockets of her leather jacket. As she turned away, door squeaking closed behind her, Ada suddenly realized she had no way of knowing if Dzsenifer got back home okay. Trying and failing to open her door quickly, Ada swore and couldn’t help but think this is why she defaulted to being an ice queen. Good deeds took too long and far too much energy.

“Dzsenifer, wait!” Ada called as she raced down the hall and to the landing of the stairwell.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Dzsenifer made quick work of climbing back up to Ada’s floor. The alpha paused a few stairs below the landing, the shadows of the stairwell clinging to her dark hair and attire.

“Jenny, please.” She offered in reply, voice almost lost amongst the creak of the sagging stairs. 

“Oh, sorry.” Ada mumbled, hands fidgeting with her keys. “I forgot to ask if you wanted me to call you a cab or something, its late, and you have a long walk back.”

“That’s alright, I saw a metro stop a few streets up when we almost walked past your’s earlier.”

Ada nodded and began to back away. 

“What’s your number?” Jenny had pulled her phone out, dark eyes looking up at her expectantly. “Want me to text you when I make it back to my apartment?”

Surprised, Ada hesitated, and then rattled her number off for the alpha. Jenny tapped it into her phone, gave Ada one more quick smile, and then wished her goodnight again.

The rest of the night was uneventful, though Ada had started to pull her clothes out of her suitcase and put them away while she chatted with her boyfriend. It was a small step, but every inch forward mattered. Who knows, maybe of she started to embrace France, her game would improve. She spent a great deal of time turning over Jenny’s advise and tried to discuss it with her boyfriend, though he wasn’t much of a soccer connoisseur.

At some point during their conversation, a text chimed through, and Ada couldn’t help but laugh at the message from the unknown number.

Unknown: Back and not broken!

Unknown: Also didn’t have to walk through half the city this time *hair flip emoji*

Ada: Glad to hear it, Jenny!

Unknown: Jenny? Who’s Jenny?

Ada frowned, very confused and slightly concerned. In the background, her boyfriend kept asking her what was wrong.

Ada: …?

Unknown: Sorry, realized that was more creepy than funny after I hit send *upside down smiley face emoji*

*Picture*

It was a selfie of Dzsenifer, their teammate Lisa in the background with a mug in her hand and a silly expression on her face. Dzsenifer had captioned it, “Lose an ’n’ and the ‘y’ add an ‘i’. 

Ada: Ijen? Jein? Neji? Inej? So many possibilities!

Jeni: I regret sharing my secret sandwich spot with you.

Ada: Tell Lisa she just got bumped up to the first call spot for balcony privileges come July.

Jeni: Suddenly, I’ve grown a fondness for “Jenny” 

Ada: LOL! Goodnight Jeni, thanks again for today :)

Jeni: Night!

Tuning back into the story her boyfriend was recounting, Ada set her phone down and got ready for bed. Everything ached, though the heaviness that had been weighing on her chest was just a tad bit lighter. When it came to making friends or scoring goals, she had always excelled with the latter. Today hadn’t been easy, but she’d gotten out of her comfort zone and managed to make it work.

If things off the pitch were starting to come together, then that meant her game wasn’t too far behind, hopefully.

Notes:

Next up, Pernille and Magda! Luckily their chapter was easier to write and is done, so expect another update soon.

Would appreciate feedback on what you would like to see between Ada and Dzsenifer because I'm at a loss with them, beyond the "big scene" I have planned.

Also, I apologize to everyone who thought that the unnamed blond in Ada's first chapter was Keira. She'll make an appearance or two, don't worry! To the reviewer who was excited there would be no angst between Keira and Lucy, so sorry, but I'll make it worth it.

Chapter 9: Pernille Harder and Magdalena Eriksson 1

Summary:

Long distance is hard, but at least it offers a bit of a break from the usual chapters.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

An alarm blared from the bedroom, startling her and causing coffee to spill across the counter. Despite having the day off to rest and recover, Pernille had risen early, almost an hour before the alarm she had set last night. Grumbling to herself, she padded back into her room, her socked feet slipping a bit on the wood floors of the apartment. After fiddling with her alarm clock, the damn thing refused to shut up, she somehow managed to silence it.

Peace and quiet restored, Pernille made her way back to the kitchen to mop up the spilled coffee. Deciding that she may as well wipe down the other counters, she made her way around the kitchen, towel in hand. She got like this sometimes, a nervous energy making her seek out odd jobs to keep her trembling hands busy.

Counters clean and sparkling, she downed the rest of her coffee and washed the few dishes she had sitting in the sink. Still restless, she wandered around the apartment, picking up clothes she had tossed about and shoes she had kicked off by her door. She emptied her hamper and started a load of laundry, and then bustled back into the kitchen to dry the plates and mugs she had washed earlier.

If Magda could see the apartment right now, she’d be amazed. It wasn’t that Pernille was a slob, but compared to Magda, who made the bed with a military-like precision and practically color coded her closest and drawers, Pernille was a bit messy. So what if her shoes didn’t make it into the hall closest and sat in a heap by the door? She at least made sure they didn’t block the entrance and wouldn’t trip anyone coming in. That kind of organization was more her speed, yet, it drove Magda crazy.

As she folded and rehung the various pieces of clothing she had pulled out to consider throughout the week and then decided against, Pernille couldn’t help but imagine Magda’s scowl. She could even hear her voice, a disgruntled husk as she informed Pernille that she shopped too much and that no one needed this many shirts or sweaters. Ever the mature one, as she was Magda’s senior by a year, Pernille would stick out her tongue and rudely inform Magda that she only had two feet and certainly had no need for all the sneakers that were neatly stacked along the floor of her closest.

Magda usually then said something about how she at least had room for all her sneakers in her closet, and Pernille would toss a balled up shirt at her in the hopes that she could knock the smirk off Magda’s face. They’d had this argument countless times, and it almost always followed the same script. It had become a part of their routine, and oddly enough, Pernille was missing it fiercely for some silly reason.

Lost in her daydream, Pernille didn’t realize she had brought her right hand up and across her chest. Her fingers were splayed along the mating mark on the left side of her neck, the subtle indent of Magda’s teeth nestled into the crook of where her neck and shoulder met. Unlike most alpha’s, Magda was quiet, both in conversation and with her actions. Her claim didn’t stand out starkly against Pernille’s fair skin, and was easily covered by a shirt or the occasional scarf.

For most couples, a mating mark was a sign for others, a warning to other alphas and omegas who thought they could sidle in and start trouble. Sure, the mark provided an emotional tie between the alpha and omega, but it didn’t have to be as obnoxious as some couples made it to work. Throughout her travels with the various teams she had played for, Pernille had seen and experienced a lot of cultures, and gotten more than a few glimpses at other omegas’ mating marks. Thinking back on it now, she felt a little ashamed when she recalled how nervous she had been, concerned that Magda would want something aggressive. The mark large and always bruised, a clear indicator of her strength.

Magda had quickly silenced those fears, sitting her down and talking through it with her. The alpha had even been a little shy, color staining her cheeks as she admitted that she’d prefer something subtle, something that they could keep just between them. The admission had made her heart swell and confirmed what Pernille had known early on in their relationship, that Magda was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

An ache began to bloom along the mark, making her shoulders tense. Pernille pulled her hand away and shook her head, trying to dislodge the cobwebs of memory clinging to her. She finished rehanging her clothes and made the bed. As she rearranged her pillows for the fifth time, Pernille did her best to ignore the anxiety bubbling up and making her stomach queasy.

She had always been very levelheaded, even when in heat. Her parents joked that Pernille was the most level headed person they knew, even when she was just a toddler and learning how to speak. Things rarely rattled her, and unlike most omegas who were sidelined by heats, Pernille had always been able to muscle her way through.

However, once she and Magda had started a long distance relationship, an anxiousness had burrowed its way into her heats that she had never experienced before. Pernille knew she was being irrational, yet, she couldn’t persuade her nerves to settle. Magda had fretted when Pernille had confided in her a few months after their respective moves to England and Germany, practically ill with the thought that she was making Pernille uncomfortable. The alpha’s concern had only added to Pernille’s anxiety, as she knew she was the cause for Magda’s lack of sleep and doubts over whether they had made the right decision to claim each other before leaving Sweden.

The ache radiating from the mark became more pronounced, making her shoulders pull tight and her hands shake across the pillow covers. She growled, lip curling at her own stupidity and dark thoughts. Memories came storming back, weaving more complex webs than the teasing squabbles she and Magda had over their shopping habits. 

Long nights spent on FaceTime that ended in tear soaked pillows and puffy red eyes at practice. The dreaded discussions of whether their relationship was having too much of a negative impact on their careers, and if they should prioritize and focus on soccer. The more common, did we pick the right teams discussions, that ended in Pernille cussing out Wolfsburg and Magda bemoaning the fact that she hadn’t worked hard enough at Linkoping. Pernille had lost count of the amount of times she had talked Magda out of leaving Chelsea and signing for some less challenging German club, as Wolsfburg was irritatingly not interested in the defender. The truly devastating fights where they tore into each other, picking at their most sensitive fears and doubts, all because Pernille was just trying to make it better by burying her feelings and avoided the topic of her anxiety all together. 

Sometimes, when she was having a bad day during her heat cycle, Pernille could still hear Magda’s angry voice reverberating through the small apartment. How she had pleaded with Pernille to not shut her out, to just talk to her so they could figure this out together. Thinking about those arguments always made her hands clammy, her stomach swooping and lurching like she was on a roller coaster.

Pain, like a bucket of ice water, crashed over Pernille and startled her out of her spiraling thoughts. She was fussing with the mating mark again, nails biting into the scars Madga’s teeth had left. Lacing her hands together before her, Pernille forced herself to take several deep breaths, eyes locked on the ceiling of her bedroom. Nervous energy made her shift from foot to foot, but she refused to give into her anxiety and continue running her fingers over the mating mark. 

The ringing chime of a FaceTime call made her jump, but she was all too happy to abandon the pillows on the bed. She slipped rounding the corner into the kitchen, and smacked her shoulder against the wall. A snarl tore free from her throat, and she berated herself for being so easily annoyed. Just as the call was about to go to voicemail, Pernille managed to dig her phone out between the couch cushions and picked up the call.

At least, she thought she had picked up the call, but when Magda’s face didn’t materialize on her phone screen she couldn’t help but frown. Pernille tried to call her back, but Magda was calling her again at the same time. Frustrated, Pernille ended the call and tried again, but Magda, ever persistent, called her mid swipe and Pernille accidentally hung up on her for the third time.

A text came through suddenly, and Pernille couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Magda: Would you please stop hanging up on me? I know you have the day off, but it’s 10:30am and time for you to be a functioning member of society sleepyhead.

Pernille tried to FaceTime Magda again, but the alpha let the call ring for several seconds and then hung up on her.

Pernille: Brat!   

“Paybacks a bitch.” Magda’s cheeky smile and low voice filled the apartment.

With exaggerated motions, Pernille raised her hand and made it seem like she was going to hang up on Magda again. 

“Hey!” Magda laughed and barred her teeth, goofing around. “Who’s the brat now?”

She knew her mate was just playing, but Pernille fumbled the phone as soon as Magda flashed her teeth at her. The anxiety bubbling in her stomach like a witch’s brew climbed up her throat and burned the back of her tongue like bile. Ever the klutz, she managed to send the phone skittering across the rug and under the chair next to her couch.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

Magda’s muffled voice wavered out from under the chair as Pernille swore in Danish and struggled to get ahold of the phone.

“Yep,” Pernille scrambled for the phone, on her hands and knees, “fine, just fine.”

“Did you and the phone fall or just the phone?”

With a growl, Pernille managed to get ahold of the stupid device and balanced her arms on the seat of the chair as she knelt on the floor. She swallowed the sea sick feeling down and tried for an air of irritated calm.

“Listen, I’m not the most coordinated person on the face of the planet but I’m not hopeless.”

Magda grinned at her, canines barred again. The nervous energy that had plagued Pernille all morning forced her gaze to jump around the room, her eyes landing everywhere and anywhere but her phone screen. Her stomach heaved, and she forced herself to breath in slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. She missed the grin falling from Magda’s face, and the concerned look the alpha now wore.

“Pernille?” Magda’s voice, while always low, was so quiet and tentative she had to strain to hear it.

The anxiety that had been bubbling in Pernille’s stomach rose to sit weighted and hot in her chest. She ran a nervous hand through her hair and glanced about the room, eyes flicking from the phone screen to the pictures hanging on her walls.

“Yeah?” She couldn’t help but wince a bit at how strained her voice sounded.

“Pernille, look at me.” Magda whispered. 

A furrowed brow and wide green eyes greeted her. Magda picked up her phone and brought it closer to her, giving Pernille a better view of her face. Absently, Pernille noted that Magda’s hair was just a shade or two darker than usual. The overcast weather in England wasn’t helping her natural highlights. She watched as Magda’s frown deepened and the alpha cocked her head slightly.

“Talk to me, P. What’s wrong?”

She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair again. Before Pernille could cobble together an answer, Magda jerked her phone closer and swore.

“Are you hurt? What happened!” Magda’s voice was an uncharacteristic high pitched whine, and it made Pernille’s anxiety ten times worse.

“The hell are you talking about?” Pernille all but shouted as she jumped to her feet and spun around, half convinced an axe murderer was looming behind her.

“Your neck, it’s all red!”

Stupidly, Pernille tried to turn her head while glancing down at her neck. Obviously, it did not work and she stomped off to the bathroom as Magda gave a halfhearted huff of a laugh. Once in the bathroom, Pernille balanced the phone on the counter and swept her hair back. Sure enough, the left side of her neck was red, her fair skin aggravated by the fussing she had done with the mating mark earlier. She pulled the collar of her shirt away and tipped her head back a bit, trying to get a better look at the area.

On the other end of the phone, an ocean away, Magda’s breath caught. The gasp was nothing more than a whisper, but Pernille knew Magda too well to miss it. Arching a delicate brow, Pernille looked down at her phone, hand still keeping her collar at bay and the mating mark on full display.

Knowing she had been caught, Magda glanced away, a fierce blush rising to her cheeks. Unwillingly to let her girlfriend get away with this, especially considering her brat comment from earlier, Pernille let her hand trail from her collar, down her torso, painstakingly slow. She smirked as Magda’s eyes snapped back to her, flicking from her hand, to her neck, and then back to her hand.

“See something you like?” Pernille had wanted her tone to be sensually teasing, but the words came out just downright teasing, like a kid harassing another on the schoolyard.

Magda rolled her eyes, cheeks faded from red to pink, and hummed. She drew her phone closer, and Pernille glimpsed the light blue walls of Magda’s bedroom.

“You’re such a hypocrite,” Pernille scooped up her phone and made her way to the couch, “telling me to get out of bed when you’re still curled up in yours.”

Knowing that she was stalling for time, and trying to dance away from her earlier questions, Magda remained quiet and waited Pernille out.

“I’ll have you know I was up and dressed an hour before my alarm. I even cleaned the apartment!”

A low hum seeped from Pernille’s phone speaker again, and her hands grew a bit clammy. The anxious feeling from earlier was still twisting and turning in her stomach, the pressure in her chest sitting just a bit heavier. She always hated talking about this, or her feelings in general, but Magda knew her too well and would let her ramble all day until she finally spilled the beans. With a defeated sigh, Pernille collapsed onto her couch and worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. 

“I’m okay, I’m just…” Pernille let the sentence drift away from her, unsure how to voice what she was feeling.

Sheets rustled on the other end of the phone, and Magda settled back against her pillows, having sat up straight and alert earlier when she noticed the mark on Pernille’s neck. She reached a hand out to her phone screen, almost as if she could push through it and towards Pernille. Halfway through the motion, Magda pulled her hand back, suddenly aware of her unconscious reach forward, cheeks stained pink in another blush.

“Babe, I’m here. I know.” Pernille murmured, the heavy feeling in her chest constricting at Magda’s embarrassed expression. 

Early on, back when they were just friends and not in a defined relationship, Pernille had learned that Magda craved contact. The alpha had always sat close to her seat buddy on the bus, arms touching, or on the bench during games and practice, knees knocking with her teammates. She liked to rest her hand on someone’s upper arm when she laughed, and wasn’t shy about wrapping her arm around someone’s shoulders as they walked alongside her. On the field, Magda was the last one to break away from a hug and always sidled in to lay a reassuring hand on someone’s knee whenever they were down and being evaluated.  

After they had put a name to their closeness and defined what they were to each other, Magda had become a bit more bold with her touches. Her hand would wander to the small of Pernille’s back, palm burning a hole through her shirt and gently guiding her. If given the opportunity, Magda never failed to lace their fingers together, and liked to pull their hands into her lap. When sitting, whether on the couch, at the table, or in bed, Magda not only laced their fingers together, but tangled their legs and feet together too.

Despite all the contact and wandering hands, Magda somehow managed to never make it feel possessive. She didn’t grab or paw at Pernille, and she always checked in whenever she reached for her. A quick, tentative glance. The deliberate brush of her hand against Pernille’s before she slowly laced their fingers together, giving Pernille time to pull away if she wanted to. 

While the distance made Pernille anxious during her heats, she knew being so far away was agonizing for Magda, especially when she was in rut. The alpha needed that physical reassurance, an arm wrapped around her waist, a hand skimming her thigh, fingers in her hair, or the ability to rest her head on Pernille’s shoulder.

“Do you still have my Denmark hoodie, the one with the hole in the sleeve?” Pernille whispered, voice low and soothing.

Magda blinked at her, confused, and then narrowed her eyes. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m helping.” Pernille rolled her eyes at Magda’s unconvinced expression. “Just go put the hoodie on and then we can talk about me.”

She waited as Magda got up and moved off camera, the sound of drawers opening and closing breaking the stillness of Pernille’s apartment. Once Magda was settled again, red Denmark hoodie on and concern once again shining in her eyes, Pernille gave a great heaving sigh and threw herself across the couch. Magda laughed at her dramatics and tucked her chin down and into the collar of the sweatshirt.

Warmth eased the weight in her chest, a soft smile breaking across Pernille’s face. God she loved this woman. She loved her laugh, her wandering hands, and how she was always so concerned. Not just with Pernille’s well being, but with her friends and family, and hell, even her opponents on the pitch.

“P,” Magda picked at the string dangling from the neck of the Denmark hoodie, “can I ask you a question?”

Pernille laughed, but it was a little too shrill. “You just did, babe.”

Magda stared her down, green eyes all consuming. There was no escaping her quiet intensity, yet, Pernille always gave it her best shot.

“Am I going to like the question?” Pernille whispered, gaze jumping around again as the anxiety built inside her like a pressure cooker.

“No.” 

Magda dropped her voice an octave, just one step away from a growl. It had an immediate effect on Pernille, her eyes snapping to Magda’s. She held her mate’s gaze for a heartbeat or two, and then glanced down. When she looked back up at Magda through her lashes, the alpha’s eyes were a shade darker, gaze still burning into her.

“Is the mark aching again?” Magda’s tone was serious, and Pernille knew it was time to stop dicking around.

“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible, and the admission made the sick, heavy feeling in her chest gain several pounds.

“When did the anxiety start, P?”

Pernille shifted on the couch, trying and failing to get comfortable as Magda interrogated her. Okay, interrogate was a little harsh, but she hated talking about this and wished Magda would just let it be. At least the anxiety made her productive, albeit in a flighty, distracted kind of way.

“This morning…” Pernille skated her eyes around the living room again, framed photos of her friends and family, and of course Magda, staring her down. “I feel…I feel silly.”

At the admission, the weight on her chest seemed to sink through her and down to the floor. Tears of frustration pricked her eyes, and Pernille tried to take a deep breath to steady her nerves and voice. Rather than calming her, air seemed to whistle through her teeth, suddenly hard to draw in. Distantly, she was aware of Magda speaking, as if from the end of a long hall.

“Baby, look at me. Baby.” Magda growled, trying to gain her attention.

The harsh cadence of Magda’s voice helped shake Pernille out of her anxious and rapidly deteriorating state. Instinct overrode her panic, and Pernille locked eyes with her mate, air still hissing through her teeth. Another growl rumbled up and out of Magda’s chest when their eyes locked, though this one was a bit softer.

“Good girl.” Magda whispered, and the praise helped ease the urge Pernille had to lower her eyes and fix them on the bottom corner of her phone screen.

Even though Magda had told her to look at her, Pernille’s nerves were too jittery not to insist on making it clear to her mate that she wasn’t trying to mount a challenge. She tipped her head to the side and back slightly, flashing a sliver of the mating mark and baring her neck subtly. Magda hummed, the sound almost a purr, her green eyes bright as she smiled.

“You’re always such a good girl.” Magda’s voice rasped like sandpaper. “My good girl.”

Air rushed into Pernille’s lungs, and they expanded fully for the first time in what felt like hours, though it had only been a few minutes. Magda continued to purr somewhat incoherent praises to her as the blood rushed in Pernille’s ears. She had been so close to an anxiety attack, she felt like a child holding their hand dangerously close to a hot stove top. A shiver wracked her frame and she curled into herself, phone cradled in her hands.

She wanted Magda here.

She needed her to be here.

The hot and heavy weight in her chest began to press against her lungs again and she squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to wrestle some control back. The second her eyes closed, Magda’s purr and syrupy tone cut off. A snarl tore through Pernille’s apartment and she yelped, honest to god yelped, as she sat bolt upright and almost threw her phone to the floor.

“I asked you to look at me, Pernille.” Magda chastised, eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Sorry, I-”

Pernille’s gasp of an apology cut off as she made eye contact with Magda over FaceTime again. Her mate had pulled her hair back and into a bun, face set into that no-nonsense expression she usually reserved for the pitch. She was looming over her phone, hands braced out of frame on what must have been the edge of her bureau.

Even though the alpha wasn’t physically in Pernille’s apartment and looming over her, it kind of felt like she was there. Deciding to play along, Pernille forced some of the tension to bleed from her muscles and nestled against the back of the couch. Head turned to the side, she regarding Magda carefully from the corner of her eye, chest still heavy and tight.

Magda smirked at her, growl rumbling through the speakers again. “There’s my good girl. I want to help you though this, is that okay?”

Usually, Pernille would nod, and Magda would grumble. She knew the alpha wanted a verbal response, but the nod always forced Magda to nudge her chin up with her nose. A small encouragement and reminder to speak up. The second Magda nudged her, she’d slide a hand along the alpha’s jaw and hold her close, maybe steal a kiss or two if she was feeling bold.

The memory hurt, and forced a tear to slide down her cheek as Pernille gasped out. “Okay.”

“Don’t cry baby.” Magda murmured, eyes gone soft and lips turned down in a frown. “I’m right here P, I’ve got you.”

A choked sob slipped past her lips and Pernille nodded, free hand not clutching her phone swiping at the traitorous tears.

“Oh, baby. Baby, baby, baby.” Magda was exaggerating the rasp in her voice just a bit, but it was helping. “Be a good girl and tug the collar of your shirt away from our mark.”

Chest heaving a bit, Pernille grappled her emotions back under control, relieved to have something for her hands to do beyond wipe her tears. The t-shirt she had thrown on that morning didn’t have a low cut neckline, so it covered the mark pretty well, even when pulled to the side. Frustrated, she dropped the phone in her lap and tugged her shirt off.

Lip caught between her teeth, Pernille picked the phone back up and regarding Magda through the screen, clad just in her sports bra and shorts now. Her stomach was still swooping and falling, the weight in her chest pressing down insistently. Thankfully, the tears had stopped, but she couldn’t help but worry at her lip with her teeth, still painfully agitated.

Briefly amused with her aggressive and sudden undressing, Magda snorted and rolled her eyes. She leaned over her phone a bit more, hand flashing out to adjust the angle. Pernille pressed herself back into the couch, just the barest amount, but Magda’s sharp green eyes missed nothing.

“My good girl.” She purred, voice gone syrupy and thick like honey.

The praise dragged a sigh out of Pernille, the weight on her chest lifting a bit. Dragging her lip from between her teeth, she forced herself to take a couple deep breaths, mind focusing on the memory of Magda’s scent. How it always cut through everything around it, bright and confident, just like the alpha. Rather than fuel her anxiety, this memory helped to ease it. 

“Pernille.” Magda smiled when she blinked her eyes open and held her gaze. “Good girl, always my good girl. I want you to lay the palm of your hand over our mark, please.”

Brow furrowed, Pernille bit back the question on the tip of her tongue and did as Magda requested. This was…different. Usually, Magda hated when she fussed with the mark. Probably because the alpha knew picking at it was painful when she wasn’t in the throes of her heat. They both had about a day or so before their respective cycles hit, but Pernille’s anxiety had decided to swing by early.

Unsure where this was going, Pernille laid her palm against the mating mark carefully. She trusted Magda, wholeheartedly, but this was so out of left field for her that Pernille couldn’t help but furrow her brow. Magda gave her a small smile and whispered a few more praises to her.

“Trust me, baby?”

Pernille nodded. “Of course. I’m just confused, I guess.”

“If you don’t like it, we stop.” Magda’s tone was serious again, expression earnest. “Just tell me to stop and we’re done.”

Now it was Pernille’s turn to offer some reassurance. She smiled and settled against the back of the couch in a more comfortable position, making it clear she was ready to move forward. 

“I trust you, Magda.” Still too anxious to be in the right headspace for a whir to enter her tone, Pernille settled for another smile. “I know you’ll stop if I ask.”

Magda returned her smile, and for a few moments, they simply stared at each other, wrapped up in the other’s (FaceTime) presence. Slowly, Pernille’s stomach began to settle, and the weight against her chest became a bit lighter too. Suddenly shy, Magda glanced away, cheeks a bit pink. Pernille grinned and watched as Magda schooled her expression.

“I want you to take a deep breath and let it go slowly.” Magda murmured, voice gone a bit dreamlike.

Pernille did as she was told, hand still balanced over the mark, arm rising and falling with her chest. After a few deep, even breaths, Magda whispered a ‘good girl,’ to her and re-adjusted the camera angle on her end. Eyes trained on the screen of her phone, Pernille couldn’t help but swallow, mouth gone a bit dry as the new angle made it seem like Magda was balanced over her. She held her mate’s intense gaze for a breath or two, and then gave into her fluttering lashes as they closed on an exhale.

“That’s my girl,” Magda purred, rasp scraping against Pernille’s senses and making goosebumps rise along her arms, “let yourself relax into it.”

Still unsure as to what exactly they were doing, Pernille was having a hard time letting her muscles go slack. However, with her eyes closed, and Magda’s voice wrapping around her, it was easier to pretend that her mate was here with her, and not an ocean away.

“Keep taking deep, even breaths.” The alpha directed.

She was distantly aware that Magda’s breathing had picked up a beat, the alpha clearly affected by whatever they were doing. Trying and failing to keep the small smirk from breaking across her face, Pernille couldn’t help but huff a laugh as Magda growled.

“Right now we’re focusing on you baby,” the alpha murmured, “and then I’ll let you know what I need.”

Blinking her eyes open, Pernille winked at her mate. “Oh, I know what you need.”

“Be good.” Magda admonished.

The whine that cut through her apartment was almost foreign to Pernille’s ears. Her anxiety was making their usual banter feel forced, and she irrationally felt as if she were one comment away from making Magda truly upset. She went to sit up a bit, apology ready, but Magda flashed her teeth and she froze. 

Why was this so hard? They were always easy, clicking into place like puzzle pieces.

Trancelike state shattered, the weight against Pernille’s chest slammed back down. Magda hushed her as she whined again, murmuring sweet things and soft praises. It took a while, but Magda eventually talked her back to the point where her eyes were closed and almost all the tension had leaked out of her muscles.

“On the next exhale,” Magda dropped her tone, though it was still cut through with a purr, “I want you to put pressure on our mark with your hand.”

Startled by the direction, Pernille opened her eyes and held Magda’s gaze as she applied a bit of pressure to the mating mark. Magda’s pupils were blown, eyes the deep dark green of the forest back home when it rained. While the pressure was slight, and didn’t impede her breathing at all, Pernille couldn’t help but squirm. 

She always fussed when Magda’s teeth first connected with the crook of her neck. Word on the street was that omegas usually fell still and boneless when an alpha bit down, but Pernille’s first reaction was always to twist a bit. The knee jerk reaction had almost given Magda a heart attack the night they’d sealed the mating mark, the alpha concerned she’d changed her mind at the last second. Since then, Magda had learned the fussing was just a fleeting reaction, but nevertheless, she still worried.

“Baby, talk to me.” Magda’s voice was steady, but her eyes were flicking back and forth between Pernille’s, desperately looking for assurance that she hadn’t taken this too far.

“I’m okay.” Pernille mumbled, head gone a bit foggy.

Magda nodded and took a deep breath herself. “Tell me if you’re not, okay?”

“Yes, Magda.”

“Good girl. You can close your eyes again, baby, if it helps. I’ll tell you when I want you to put pressure on our mark.” Magda’s voice had slipped into that half purr tone again, and Pernille let her eyes flutter closed.

As she breathed, Magda whispered to her, voice soothing and prying the weight from her chest. She began to still a bit more each time Magda instructed her to apply pressure against their mating mark as she exhaled. At some point, the remaining tension in Pernille’s body had drained away, the couch cushions almost swallowing her. Fingers and toes tingling, Pernille felt almost as if she were floating.

The anxiety that had plagued her all day was gone, chased away by Magda’s rasp. Eyes closed, Pernille’s imagination was running wild, and had almost convinced her the alpha was physically here. Her scent was in every breath Pernille dragged into her lungs, her weight over Pernille’s body and pressing it into the cushions. There wasn’t a hand pressing against their mating mark, it was Magda’s teeth, claiming her, tying their emotions and lives together.

“Pernille…”

“…my good girl, talk to me baby…”

“Okay? Come back to me, P…come back to me…”

Magda’s voice was filtering through to her in bits and pieces. Oddly groggy, it took a while for Pernille to blink her eyes open, her lids heavy and body boneless. At some point, she’d dropped her phone, and poor Magda was staring at the ceiling of her apartment. Limbs a bit numb, she fumbled around for the phone as Magda’s continued to call out to her.

“Sorry, I’m okay.” Pernille whispered, voice shaky. “Promise, I’m okay, just…a little unsteady.”

When she finally grabbed her phone and righted it, Magda was regarding her over the top of her arm. She had moved to her bed, phone most likely propped against her pillows as she lay on her stomach. Her head was resting in the bend of her elbow, her arms crossed and face covered save for her eyes. As Pernille reappeared on the screen, Magda propped her chin on her arm and smirked.

“Okay, baby?” Magda asked in Danish.

“Mhm.” Pernille hummed, still a little floaty and out of it. “Why are we speaking Danish?”

Usually, they spoke Swedish together, though, Pernille would never complain of Magda speaking Danish.

Magda smiled, eyes bright and face radiate with happiness. “You started it, P.”

“I did?” Pernille frowned, and thought back to the first sentences she cobbled together once she found her voice. She had been so out of it, she hadn’t realized she wasn’t speaking Swedish.

“Yeah,” Magda mumbled, voice a bit shy. “So, was that good?”

Pernille took stock of herself. The weight that had been sitting atop her chest was gone, every muscle loose and tingling. A content feeling was sitting low in her gut, the nervous butterflies from before settled and still. She felt so relaxed, she could have curled up on the couch and gone to sleep, no blanket or pillow needed.

Good didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

“I feel, floaty?” Pernille muttered, at a loss as to how to describe what she was experiencing. 

Magda laughed, but not in a cruel or jesting kind of way. “Floaty is good.”

“Mhm.” Pernille agreed, yawn cracking her jaw open suddenly.

“I know you said you made the bed already, but why don’t you go lay back down so we can laze around and doze off together.” Magda suggested.

“But what about you?” Pernille’s words were all jumbled, her accent so strong she was surprised Magda could understand her.

The alpha regarded her with those deep, dark eyes, pupils blown. Her gaze made Pernille shiver, the look so intense Pernille could feel it like a caress. Despite the look Magda was giving her, the alpha forced a small smile and shrugged, dismissing Pernille’s earlier question. Pernille knew Magda better than she knew herself. Her mate was riled up, though she was trying very hard to play it off. 

With narrowed eyes, Pernille tried to force some steal into her voice but the words still came out breathy and stuttered. “Nap, then we’re focusing on you.”

“Whatever you say, P.” Magda’s smile widened and she rolled onto her back, halfway out of the frame. “Move your cute butt and go back to bed so we can take a nap.”

Nodding, Pernille struggled to her feet, legs unsteady, almost as if she had been on a boat and was now suddenly back on shore. She stumbled back to her bedroom, hip catching the corner of her trophy table and knocking it back an inch. The medals and trophies rattled in the case, but luckily nothing toppled over. Muttering about bruises, Pernille let Magda’s laugh steer her to bed and under the carefully tucked covers.

Notes:

Hoping for some comments on this one.

Would love to know what everyone thinks so far, and if this break from the usual set up works okay? Planning on throwing Lucy and Keira chapters in like this as well. If anyone has a suggestions for other side story-ish pairings, I'm all ears.

Chapter 10: Beth Mead and Danielle Van De Donk 3

Summary:

In which I take FOREVER to post a new chapter. Sorry for the long wait! Hadn't felt inspired to write about these two (ended up writing a whole side story for Ada and Dzsenifer, surprise) but here we are.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Beth sat on her bed, phone in hand, eyes a bit unfocused. The roster for the training camp over at St. George’s had been posted bright and early this morning, and the Lioness group chat was blowing up. Much to her dismay, even though she knew her performances as of late were disappointing, Beth had not made the roster. 

She had foolishly hoped that Phil would cut her some slack, considering how hard it was to move to a new team and break into the starting eleven, but it was painfully obvious that she had been naive. The Lionesses were determined to move up in the Fifa rankings, and that would only happen if they fielded the best team possible. They had a lot of talent coming up through the ranks, and no time for those who were struggling or not giving it their all. 

Plus, there was the whole highly professional imagine Phil was so hung up on. He wanted the team to be an example, polished and composed, both on the field and off it. While Phil expected his athletes to be confident and ambitious, he had a zero tolerance policy for cocky little shits and hot heads. The row she started with Daan during Arsenal’s last game undoubtedly played a factor in the lack of a call up.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Beth flopped back on her bed and clenched her teeth, willing the frustration burning the back of her throat to die down. Crying about this didn’t get her name magically onto the roster, so she shouldn’t waste her energy on being a baby. Knowing she was under a microscope at the moment, Beth jumped into the group chat and congratulated the girls who had made it.

She even went the extra mile and shared the roster and her congratulations on social media. If Phil wanted professional, she’d give it to him, no matter how much it hurt. Posts up and tears thankfully dried, Beth tossed her phone into her duffel and jumped out of bed as Anna came into the room, hair in a towel and toothbrush sticking out of the side of her mouth.

Thankfully, Anna didn’t comment on Beth’s red eyes or the painful forced smile, and simply waved Beth toward the bathroom they shared with Carla. Keeping her head down so her other housemates wouldn’t be forced to play dumb like Anna, Beth scurried to the bathroom’s open door. Of course, the universe was out to fuck her, so she just had to smack into one of the girls as she fled to the safety of the shower.

“Bloody hell!” Daan cursed, and then did a double take when she got a look at the devastated expression Beth was doing a piss poor job of wiping off her face. “Oh, Beth, what’s-”

Beth didn’t give the alpha the chance to finish her question. She slipped around the other women and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and starting the water all in one go. There was only so much maturity Beth could expend in one day, and even though it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, she had hit her limit.

———

Practice was miserable.

Jordan and Leah, as well as the other Lionesses, gave her a wide berth after a few awkward pats on her back. The coaching staff congratulated the girls who had made the roster during the team meeting, and Beth failed to keep her cheeks from flaming red as a few of her teammates glanced over at her with pity. The day was a blur of drills and tactical meetings that barely registered with her, everything gone grey like the overcast London sky. 

Plans were made for the next game, which was being held right before the Lionesses departed for St. George’s. Keeping with the theme of “fuck Beth”, she didn’t make the starting eleven, though she did claw her way into a possible substitute spot. Furious and sick to her stomach, Beth fell into herself and avoided her teammates for the rest of the day. On the way home, she continued to sulk in the back of Carla’s car, eyes trained on the scenery outside the window as a traitorous tear or two rolled down her cheek.

———

Thursday’s game was uneventful, the other team a mess of poor tactics and out of shape players. How Liverpool managed to thoroughly ignore its woman’s team to the point of all out failure was a mystery no one could wrap their head around. Arsenal was up by 4 before halftime, and despite the lead, Beth was only given a meager twenty minutes in the second half to jog about the pitch and not make an impact. 

Regardless of the lackluster performance, Beth forced herself to celebrate with the team, as she knew her behavior was being watched just as much as her playing. Excited for the rare weekend break, the girls were quick in the locker room and piling into the bus in no time. The game had been on the early side, so they’d be getting a whole night and three days to themselves, and everyone was ecstatic.

Bus rides after games were usually quiet affairs, but today everyone was eager to make plans for their brief holiday or share what they already had in the books. Dom had told everyone at least three times that Brandon was waiting at the training grounds to whisk her away on a romantic trip into the country. They were staying at some quaint little inn and Katie had offered her condolences to whoever had the misfortune of listening to her and Brandon go at it like rabbits. This of course had prompted Dom to make some embarrassing reference to the time Katie and Ruesha had been caught out, and everything had quickly descended into a squabble from there.

Surprisingly, the other Dutchies hadn’t rushed to Dom’s aid, and Beth glanced around the bus to see where they were at. Vivianne appeared to be sound asleep next to Lisa, her head on the beta’s shoulder. Daan was two rows back from them, sitting alone and fully immersed in her phone. While everyone who was awake was smiling and joking, Daan seemed a bit put out. 

The alpha had tucked herself into the corner of the window seat, knees pulled up and phone hidden behind them. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line and the glow from her phone screen cast her face in odd shadows. Seemingly sensing someone staring, she glanced up, eyes roaming about the bus and the faces of her teammates.

Careful to give nothing away, Beth kept her eyes focused on the cards in her hand and waited for Daan to look back at her phone. Stealing another quick glance at the alpha from the corner of her eye, Beth watched as Daan hunched down and leaned her head against the back of her seat. She looked small sitting like that, feet balanced on the empty seat next to her and head almost hidden by her knees.

“Beth, are you going to head home this weekend?” Carla had given up on their Uno game three hands ago, and had focused her full attention on learning what everyone’s plans were.

With a shake of her head, Beth contemplated her hand and sighed. “No, my brother’s off on some adventure with his mates and my parents have meetings and what not all weekend. Figured its easier to bum about the house here than drag myself all the way to Whitby to do the same.”

“You should have your brother or friends come down the next weekend we have off.” Anna had turned in her seat and was hanging over the back of it so she could join the conversation. “Bet they’d enjoy a day out in London.”

“You mean you’d enjoy a day out in London with Ben.” Carla waggled her eyebrows as Anna went red and slumped back into her seat.

Beth couldn’t help but laugh and join Carla in giving Anna a hard time. Not to be outdone, Anna recruited Leah and Mitch to defend her, and soon, they were all stalking Ben’s Instagram and either trying to highlight what a goof he was or how well he filled out his shirt. Like any beloved sister, Beth was quick to share as many embarrassing stories as possible about her brother, and soon half the bus was in hysterics.

While the last two days hadn’t gone her way, Beth was grateful for the bus ride and the chance to laugh with her teammates. As the main topic of conversation turned back to who was heading where over the weekend, Beth decided she’d spend the days off over at the training grounds. She’d wallowed enough these past two days, and it was time to get to work.

———

Dinner was a quiet affair that night. Brandon had whisked Dom away, just as she’d described, right as the bus rolled into the training grounds. Anna had packed her bag and was catching a ride to the train station with Lisa and Vivianne, and Carla was headed out early in the morning so she had gone right to bed once they got home. Daan had taken Dom’s car back and must have holed herself up in her room, because the TV in the den was off once Beth and Carla got in.

Puttering about the kitchen, Beth wandered aimlessly from cupboard to cupboard, frown deepening as each shelf became more and more bare. After standing in front of the open fridge, sandwich meat depleted and leftovers razed, she ultimately admitted defeat and pulled out her phone to check for delivery options close by. Since Carla was sound asleep, it was up to Beth to check in with Daan regarding dinner, and she was dreading walking up the stairs.

Sure, the awkward heart to heart had set them on a precarious and tentative path to civility, but it had only been a few days since the whole “weight room” incident. After a lengthy pep talk in the hall mirror, Beth finally convinced her reluctant feet to carry her upstairs and to Daan’s door. No longer in rut, Daan’s scent wasn’t a battering ram against her senses, but the burning sensation still left her breathless.

Muscling up a scrap of courage, Beth knocked on the closed door. Muted Dutch was filtering through it, and Beth’s first few knocks went unanswered. Having learned her lesson, Beth refused to open the door and simply settled for knocking louder. Something thumped against Carla’s closed door and Beth threw a stupid face at it over her shoulder. Noise happened when you lived with other people, Carla would have to learn to get over it.

Suddenly, Daan’s door swung open and Beth froze, fist in the air, mid knock. Daan’s cheeks were wet, and the light coat of mascara she usually applied after a game was a little smeared. Unprepared for the alpha to be in this state, Beth could only stare dumbfounded at her.

“Yeah?” Daan sniffed, her voice that all too familiar brittle tone, cut through with tears and frustration.

“Chinese?” Beth questioned. 

Daan furrowed her brow and regarded Beth like she had suddenly grown five heads. 

“What?” She hiccuped, and then crossed her arms, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she clenched it closed.

Beth fidgeted with her phone and tried to muscle up some intelligence alongside her scrap of courage. “I was going to order out. Do you want Chinese? Pizza? Thai? Or I could run to the store and grab things to make sandwiches…” 

She let the sentence trail off as a sharp Dutch phrase echoed across the room from the speaker of Daan’s phone. It was propped on top of the chest of drawers she shared with Dom, screen facing the top corner of her bed. Clearly, she was FaceTiming someone from home and it was not going well.

Daan glared over her shoulder at the phone as whoever was on the other end repeated their question. As she turned back around to face Beth, she started to close the door.

“I like Chinese best, but pick whatever you want. I’ll be down in a little bit.” 

With that, Daan shut the door and Beth could hear her brittle, yet angry retort in Dutch to whoever she was FaceTiming. Not wanting to eavesdrop, even though she couldn’t understand a word of what was being said, Beth fled down the stairs. She gave the local Chinese food place a ring and then scrambled through her duffle bag for her wallet, praying she had enough cash.

Once the food arrived, she luckily had enough cash for it and a good tip, Beth posted up in the den. She arranged the far too many take out containers on the coffee table, plus the two forks and glasses of water she’d picked up in the kitchen. Trying and failing to be a considerate housemate, Beth set into a container of noodles long before Daan joined her.

The den was dark save for the light of the tv, some trashy reality show flickering across the screen. When the lamp clicked on Beth was momentarily blinded, caught mid bite with noodles dangling from her mouth. She choked the food down and blinked accusingly at the entrance to the den, Daan frozen on the threshold, her eyes wide.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I panicked and got a little bit of everything.” Beth said as she waved at the cluttered coffee table.

“You bought enough food to feed an army.” Daan replied.

Beth shrugged and dug back into her noodles. After surveying their feast for a few minutes, Daan eventually wandered over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. She had washed her face, all remnants of smudged makeup and tears gone. For the second time that night, Beth was struck by how small the other woman seemed. Usually, Daan commanded the room with her personality, but the bus ride and FaceTime conversation had taken something out of her. She was also wearing a long sleeve t-shirt that was two sizes too big, the silly thing swallowing her whole and falling just a few inches above her legging clad knees.  

Holding up the extra fork Beth had left on the coffee table, Daan made a face and Beth narrowed her eyes at her, mouth too full of noodles to make a retort. Unwilling to play nice since Daan was clearly making fun of her use of a fork, Beth let her wander around the den looking for the takeout bag and chopsticks still inside it. Once located, Daan darted into Beth’s space and expertly twirled a bite of noodles and popped it into her mouth as she skipped back to her chair.

“Show off.” Beth grumbled.

Daan gave her a cheeky smile and leaned over the containers, clearly at a loss as to where she should start. “You better not be back washing into that noodle container.”

“Says the girl who had her tongue down some stranger’s throat just a few nights ago.”

With a snort, Daan grabbed a container and folded herself into the chair, legs drawn up. “I’ve brushed my teeth since then, and there’s no need to be jealous of my game.”

While she knew Daan wasn’t referring to her game on the pitch, the comment still hit Beth in that way. It was silly, but the lack of a call up to St. George’s and the minuscule minutes she was getting were all that occupied her mind at the moment. Daan seemed to sense something was amiss and her expression softened. Suddenly enraptured by whatever was playing on the screen, Beth kept her eyes glued to the TV as she forced more noodles down her painfully dry throat.

They grazed in silence for a bit, swapping containers and playing keep away with the duck sauce. After polishing off the first layer of each container, Daan stretched her legs out, tossed her head back, and sighed.

“We should take a break before we make ourselves sick.” Daan said.

“Breaks are for the weak.” Beth chirped, and picked up the container of sweet and sour chicken.

Even though her stomach was so full it felt like it was going to burst, Beth forced herself to take a small bite of chicken. She couldn’t back down after the statement she just made. As she nibbled halfheartedly at her piece of chicken, Daan regarded her with an amused and somewhat confused expression.

“How you doing there, champ?” Daan asked.

Knowing she’d hurl if she forced herself to take another bite, Beth admitted defeat and wrapped her piece of half eaten chicken in a napkin and returned the container to the coffee table. Daan snorted a laugh and hunkered down in her chair, arms wrapped around her torso and knees drawn up again. Searching for something to say, Beth flicked her eyes around the room and pursed her lips.

“So…got any big plans for the weekend?” Beth questioned.

Daan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was going to go home, but I don’t know now.”

Unsure how to respond, Beth remained quiet. Would it be rude to ask about the teary eyed FaceTime call Daan had before dinner? They had decided to try for friends, but they weren’t really at the point where they spilled their guts to each other.

“Maybe you should sleep on it. What time is your flight tomorrow?” Beth turned to Daan and waited for her to answer.

The alpha bit her lip and glanced down at her knees. “10am, my sister wants to take me to lunch once my flight gets in.”

“That sounds like fun! I wish my brother was thoughtful like that.” Beth grumbled.

Daan’s smile was fleeting, but a smile was a smile. “Yeah, she’s pretty great. Is your brother older or younger than you?”

“Older, and he never let’s me forget it.”

“That just means you get to pull the baby card and get away with everything. He’s the one who has to act all mature and first born.” Daan replied with a mischievous smirk.

“Nah, he hit the trifecta. Oldest, boy, and an alpha. You know what they say, boys will be boys and alphas will be alphas. I’m the one who has to always behave.” Beth lamented and stretched out on the couch, stomach aching.

“Alphas will be alphas?” Daan questioned.

Beth waved a hand at Daan. “You know, getting away with murder and all that.”

Across from her, Daan regarded Beth carefully. The alpha’s lips were pursed, and she seemed confused, maybe even a little alarmed? If Beth wasn’t so sleepy, she may have been able to puzzle out Daan’s expression better, but exhaustion from the game and her full stomach were scrambling her brain. 

The TV flickered and a new show started. Blue light washed over them and shadows elongated along the den floor as some dramatic night scene played out on the screen. Beth couldn’t fight back a yawn as her food coma began to take over, her eyelids growing impossibly heavy. In her chair next to the couch, Daan somehow managed to nestle herself into an even smaller ball, knees tucked up and body folded so that she could rest her head on the arm of the chair. Amused, Beth watched as Daan did her best to get comfortable, and slowly began to lose the battle with her food coma.

Sometime later, at least, she assumed a few hours had past, Beth was roused by fingers combing through her hair. As she mumbled a few choice words and pressed her face back into the pillow, the hand brushing over her hair moved to her arm. A featherlight touch traced up and down her skin, and she couldn’t help but shiver. Whoever was sitting above her, and was so rudely insisting on waking her up, huffed a laugh.

“Beff, c’mon, you don’t want to sleep on this lumpy old couch.”

“Piss off.” She growled in response.

Suddenly, lips were pressing against her cheek, and before Beth could properly freak out over the kiss, Daan blew a raspberry against her skin. Shrieking in outrage, Beth leaped up from the couch as Daan stumbled away, giggling hysterically. Trying and failing to lob a pillow at the alpha’s head, Beth managed to hit the lamp, which swayed dangerously before righting itself. 

“Oi! The fuck is the matter with you?” Beth yelled, eyes still a little unfocused.

From upstairs, Carla was shouting at them to shut the hell up, but Beth was too furious to care that she’d woken up her housemate. Wiping at her cheek, Beth made an incredibly uncoordinated lunge toward Daan and smacked her shin against the coffee table. Daan simply laughed harder, and scampered away toward the stairs as Beth made another clumsy grab for her.

Finally fully awake, Beth raced out of the den and up the stairs as Daan slipped away. The alpha managed to stay one step ahead of her and ducked into her room just as Beth cleared the top stair. As Daan was about to shut her door, Beth smacked into it, shoving her shoulder against the wood and trying to push her way inside. Carla chose that moment to fling her door open and dress them down for the unholy racket they were making, and Beth’s concentration slipped. With a grunt, Daan managed to shove her door closed and flipped her lock just as Beth threw her weight against the door again.

Defeated and exasperated, Beth turned and let her frustration out on Carla who was still bitching about her early flight and how inconsiderate her friends were. Too caught up in bickering with Carla, Beth didn’t catch the door behind her opening slowly. Carefully, Daan wedged herself halfway through the open door and poked Beth sharply in the side. The surprise attack made Beth yelp and jump, which only fueled Daan’s hilarity. Shrieking with glee, Daan slammed her door shut again and locked it as Beth pounded her fists against the wood.

“You insufferable, immature, pint sized terror! I swear I’m going to beat you into next week the second I get my hands on you!” Beth snarled at the closed door.

Beyond it, Daan wheezed, her laughter broken up by gasps as the alpha fought to breathe. 

“Danielle Van de Donk open this door RIGHT NOW or so help me I’ll tear it down!”

Beth rattled the locked doorknob and continued to ignore Carla, all her fury and attention zeroed in on the alpha hiding before her. As she returned to pounding on the door, Daan got a hold of herself for a second and called out.

“Knock, knock, who’s there?” The alpha singsonged and then quickly broke into another fit of giggles.

With a final shout, Beth kicked Daan’s door, flipped off Carla, and stomped over to her own room. She slammed the door closed and fell onto her bed, face pressed into a pillow as she screamed. After a few seconds, she flopped over onto her back and stared at her ceiling, blood still boiling. Daan was a child, an annoying, thoroughly irritating child. A raspberry? What were they, seven?

Yet, as angry as she was, Beth couldn’t help but replay the sensation of the alpha’s fingers running through her hair and then down her arm. Daan’s touch had been confident, yet light, causing goosebumps to rise up. Unbidden, Beth brought a hand up to her cheek and brushed her fingers over the spot Daan’s lips had landed upon. The kiss had been nice, Daan’s lips warm and soft against her cheek, before the alpha had gone and ruined the moment.

Yikes.

Listen to her! Beth shook her head and got ready for bed. The next time they had a break and the team headed out, Beth decided she was finally going to take Leah’s advice and get laid. She was really beginning to lose it and was projecting horribly onto Daan, the insufferable little terror. Sure, the alpha was hot, and irritatingly confident, but they were teammates and on shaky ground. Plus, for all Beth knew, Daan may already have someone back home or in the city.

Just as she was climbing under the covers, Beth’s door squeaked open. It was too dark to really make out who was in the doorway, but Beth knew it was Daan. The alpha hesitated for a beat or two, fingers turning the doorknob back and forth nervously.

“Just wanted to say, thanks for dinner.” Daan cleared her throat and plowed on. “Also, would now be a bad time to ask if you’ll drive me to Heathrow tomorrow morning?”   

Beth snarled and tossed a pillow at her. Laughing, Daan ducked behind the door and poked her head back in when the pillow thumped to the floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes and will see you in the morning!” Daan then wished her goodnight in Dutch and shut the door, making her way back to her own room.

Determined to get back at the other woman, Beth pulled the covers up to her chin and grumpily settled down without setting an early alarm. Daan deserved to rush around in the morning and be late for her flight, it was only fair. Yet, despite how irritated she was, Beth did reluctantly set an alarm on her phone before she drifted off to sleep. 

———

Beth was quickly learning that Daan’s default setting was “always late.” Despite waking up after the alpha, Beth somehow managed to shower, change, and eat before the other woman had even finished doing her hair. As she sipped her second cup of tea, Beth couldn’t help but wonder if the alpha was still on the fence about heading home for the weekend. 

Just as she was about to head upstairs and ask if they were still going to the airport, Daan bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Considering how much time the alpha had spent getting ready, Beth was surprised to see she was just wearing dark jeans, white trainers, and a light denim shirt that was open a button too low. Maybe what had taken so long was straightening her hair, Beth mused, as it was very long and fell almost to the middle of the alpha’s back.

Daan fused with her half rolled sleeves and glanced at the clock on the stove. “Beth, does this outfit look alright?”

“You look very nice, but were you going for something specific?” Beth questioned.

“Casual, but still put together.” Daan met her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, the rose gold watch on her wrist catching the sunlight briefly. 

Beth regarded the alpha carefully, eyes tracing over her outfit and hair. Daan’s makeup was light, just enough to subtly highlight her features, her lipstick a soft, muted shade that kind of matched her watch. Beyond the watch, she was just wearing that necklace she never took off, and her clothes were stylish without being too fancy for a casual lunch with your sister.

“Spot on!” Beth decided with a smile and Daan nodded, still seeming a bit distracted.

As the alpha grabbed her backpack, Beth fished her keys out of the bowl by the door and soon they were off. It was a good thing Daan didn’t need to check any bags, because they were cutting it very close as Beth pulled up to the departure section of Heathrow. Fighting her way through cabs and Ubers, Beth managed to squeeze into a spot along the curb.

She let the car idle in park as Daan sat frozen in the passenger seat, hands balled into fists atop her thighs. Without thinking, Beth leaned over and took Daan’s hand. The alpha startled, clearly lost in thought, and regarded Beth warily, her dark eyes guarded. 

“I know you were debating about taking this flight, but I think you’ll be happy you decided to head home for the weekend. Plus, a free lunch is always fun!” Beth said reassuringly.

Daan gave her a small smile, but it felt a little forced. “Thanks, Beff.”

As the alpha grabbed her backpack and headed toward the main doors of the airport, Beth couldn’t help but roll her windows down and egg her on a bit.

“If you decide to chicken out, you can walk home!” She shouted at Daan’s retreating back.

Failing to disappoint, Daan whipped around and flipped her off, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh as she fought her way through traffic.

———

The long weekend passed slowly, everything quiet and uneventful with the house empty and training on hold. Each day, Beth drove out to the park by their house and ran there, needing a change of scenery since she didn’t have any training partners at the moment. On Saturday, she called the club and cleared swinging by to run some drills with the training staff and grounds crew. One of the coaching assistants was even nice enough to join her, and helped her run several passing and serving into the box drills. 

She called her friends from home and made plans to hang out on the days and weekends when the team didn’t have a game or an early morning training. They even managed to hash out a day in London, her friends eager to go shopping and get dinner at one of the posh new restaurants. Catching up was fun, and did wonders for the foul mood she’d been in since the roster for St. George’s had been announced. She even filled them in on Daan’s silly antics, though she kept the weight room incident to herself. Well, herself and Al, that is. 

With all the girls out, Beth was free to buy and cook what she liked, plus their fridge was full of Chinese leftovers. She really had bought enough food to feed an army. Daan had very kindly boxed everything back up and labeled all the containers before she had so rudely awakened Beth. If the alpha hadn’t been so irritating, Beth would have texted her and thanked her.

One night, after she’d eaten a sleeve of Oreos that the club nutritionist had definitely not approved (sue her, they had the weekend off), she found herself scrolling though Daan’s Instagram. She hadn’t meant to stalk the other woman, but the picture of Daan and who Beth assumed must be her older sister, caught her eye and opened the door to the rabbit hole. 

First, Beth liked and commented on the picture of Daan and her sister at lunch, because she knew the alpha had been apprehensive about the meeting. It was a really cute shot, the two women leaning together and a stylish little bistro on a quaint street laid out behind them. Daan’s sister shared her long hair and sharp, dark eyes, her expression just as arresting as Daan’s. Beth couldn’t help but wonder if Daan’s sister was an alpha too.

She left a cheeky comment on the picture; Trade you! Sibling for sibling, no give backs. 

Before she even got the chance to click through and onto Daan’s profile, a notification popped up from the other woman. She had liked Beth’s comment, and left a reply.

No sale. She may be a bit frumpy, but she’s got good taste in shoes and we happen to be the same size. ;)

After that exchange, she found herself digging through Daan’s photos. While her Instagram looked like any other professional athlete’s, lots of training and game pictures, Beth came across a more personal shot or two every now and then. Her sister featured heavily, and Beth couldn’t help but smile at how genuinely happy Daan looked beside her. There were a lot of pictures with the Dutch national team players as well, even outside of practice. 

Some of the pictures were very cheeky, Daan giving the camera a knowing look as she posed in bikinis or low cut shirts at just the right angle. The alpha’s friends from home were bold as well, many of the pictures that caused Beth to pause featuring the same group of girls. There was one shot, from a girls trip Beth was assuming, that featured Daan poolside that really caught Beth’s attention.

The alpha was laying on her stomach and was mid laugh, eyes scrunched, and dimples full blown. One of Daan’s friends, a blonde girl with hair so light it was almost silver, was leaning over her and kissing the alpha on the cheek. They were somewhere tropical, palm trees waving in the background, and Daan’s happiness radiated off the picture and out of Beth’s phone screen.

That’s why Beth had stopped at this one and stared for several minutes, or at least, that’s what Beth was telling herself. Daan’s joy was infectious and Beth would have been smiling, especially considering how cute Daan’s dimples were, if her mouth wasn’t currently hanging open. Despite the camera having been angled just so and arms being expertly, yet casually, folded, it was abundantly clear that both Daan and her friend were topless.

Yep.

Focusing on the warm fuzzy feelings Daan’s smile was causing and not on the fact that both Daan and her friend were topless poolside. 

With a single minded focused she usually reserved for the pitch, Beth carefully zoomed in on the picture and roamed about. Wherever they were vacationing was beautiful, but Beth wasn’t paying close attention to the scenery. The blonde had her eyes closed as she kissed Daan’s cheek, and Daan was…

Stunning.

The alpha was sun kissed and happy. Her shoulders were well defined and her eyes, though scrunched with laughter, held that mischievous spark that made Beth want to curl her lip. Daan and her friend were clearly enjoying themselves, the alpha having kicked up her legs and crossed them at the ankles in the air. Beth couldn’t help but stare. 

However, when Beth roamed her zoomed in view down the length of Daan’s body she had to put the phone down and take a deep breath or two. The picture was taken in a way that only showed a bit of Daan’s side, but Beth wasn’t blind. There was definitely no bikini bottom tie crossing Daan’s hip.

YEP.

Still focusing on the warm fuzzy feelings Daan’s smile was causing. Definitely the smile. Not the fact that Danielle Van De Donk was naked poolside in some tropical heaven.

Having somewhat regained her senses, Beth zoomed out and moved reluctantly on to the next picture. It was the same shot (bless the powers that are) but this time it was a close up. Daan was glancing over her shoulder at her friend, that sneaky little smirk now in place instead of the full blown grin and dimples. The blonde was staring the camera down, dark blue eyes burning a hole through Beth’s phone.

Oh.

Beth knew that look, could read the message the blonde was trying to get across loud and clear. With a defeated sigh and quick roll of her eyes, Beth went back to what she decided to title, The Picture. She took a screenshot of it, Dutch comments and fire emojis included, and sent it to Al.

Beth: *Picture* The universe is really out to fuck me.

Luckily, while Beth wasn’t making much headway with soccer or her roommates, her friends were coming through for her. Al replied almost immediately and did not disappoint.

Al: Well, hulloooooo, Universe!

Al: 20 out of 10, would gladly let The Universe fuck me if you’re just going to sit in line and complain.

Al: And if, you know, I wasn’t straight. But I could swing the other way for a night for The Universe just to see what all the fuss is about.

Beth: You’re shameless!

Al: I think what you meant to say was, you’re not blind.

Beth: You know that’s Daan right?

Al: Mhm, and while I’d be dropping to my knees in a heartbeat for her if she ever stepped into my space, I’d still happily wack her with the shovel and put her 6ft under for you. After I’ve gotten a taste of what The Universe has to offer, of course.

Beth laughed out loud, head thrown back in delight at her best friend’s antics. She responded with a host of emojis and continued to laugh as Al sent a flurry of texts.

Al: I bet her ass is FANTASTIC!

Al: All that running…

Al: And her shoulders *shudder*

Al: Tell me her arms are as delicious as they look in this picture?

Al: Please, indulge me!

Beth: Better, this photo is a few years old. She’s filled out a bit more now.

Al: YAS!!!

Al: Beth, I know why you’re not all over her, but do explain why you’re not all over her?

Beth: She’s insufferable!

Al: Outside of the bedroom, but in the bedroom? You’d be too busy to remember she’s annoying.

Beth: Did you miss the blonde laying NAKED on top her? She’s most definitely taken.

Al: All I see is a prelude to future events. The Universe should upgrade, her current blonde is blah.

Beth: You’re terrible :)

Al: You’re welcome!

Switching out of the text conversation, Beth went back to Instagram and continued to dig. Now that she was keeping an eye out for her, Beth was seeing the blonde more often, though not as often as she would expect. A girl like Daan always flaunted what she had, and her girlfriend, despite Al’s reaction, was beautiful.  

After making it back in Daan’s photo history to four or five years ago, Beth decided she needed to rein it in. As she made her way back to the top of the page, she couldn’t help but pause at The Picture again. Despite her reservations, Beth opened the picture once more and indulged herself one last time. Some BBC alert flashed across her screen and she tried to swipe it away, but managed to make the worst mistake anyone Instagram stalking could make.

She liked the pictured.

The Picture!

The mind boggling, ridiculously hot picture of Daan and her girlfriend naked on vacation by the pool. 

If Beth had wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole when the St. George’s roster was announced, she now wanted the entire solar system to fold in on itself and obliterate everything and anything. No hole was deep enough to escape this hell. Only total and complete erasure of the known world could save her.

The stupid picture was three years old. Three years!

Beyond horrified and embarrassed, Beth closed out of Instagram and put her phone on the coffee table. She hid her flushed face behind her hands and contemplated what name she’d choose when she went to hide in the highlands of Scotland. Maybe Ass would be good enough, simple, easy to remember.

A too cheery ding broke the mortifying silence Beth had descended into. Like a star in a horror movie, Beth raised her head from her hands impossibly slow and gazed at her phone with a sickening weight building in her stomach. A notification was lighting her phone screen up and the notification tone dinged again, the 30 second reminder going off, just to mock her.   

Instagram

Message from @danielleddonk

With a shout, Beth swatted the phone off the coffee table and sent it skidding onto the floor and under the chair. She abandoned her sleeve of Oreos and raced up the stairs to her room. Like the mature young woman she was, Beth buried herself under the blankets and hid in bed as she cursed the powers that were for fucking with her this week.

———

The shock and embarrassment knocked Beth out, and she woke up to a pitch dark room. Disoriented and still mortified, she fumbled out of bed and tripped over a pair of Anna’s trainers. After getting some lights turned on upstairs, she cautiously made her way downstairs and back to the den. 

Chickening out, Beth left her phone under the chair and cleaned up the spilled sleeve of Oreos. It was very late, only an hour or two from officially being morning, and Beth hoped the team nutritionist couldn’t hear her stomach rumbling. Cookies for dinner was definitely not approved, and she was going to regret this cheat day/night.

After tidying up everything that could possibly be righted, dusted, and fluffed, Beth resigned herself to her fate and fished her phone out from under the chair. She had 2 messages from Daan, the messages a few minutes a part.

danielleddonk: Thanks for the like, Meado ;)

danielleddonk: Oh, c’mon, its a good picture! Nothing to be embarrassed about.

Beth could hear the alpha laughing all the way across the ocean and in Holland. Perhaps she was still laughing. Unsure how to respond and face burning bright red, Beth took a screenshot of the messages and sent them to Al. She had to send several messages to her friend before the other girl woke up and told her to fuck off.

Beth: Good, now that I have your undivided attention, please enjoy my stupidity.

Al: WTH are you talking about Meado?

Beth: Scroll up.

A few heartbeats later, Al’s messages began rolling in with fury. She chewed Beth out for being an idiot, had a good laugh over the situation, and then buckled down to help her figure this fuck up out. After a good pep talk via text, Beth reopened Instagram and replied to Daan’s hours old messages, even though she wanted to crawl back into bed and hide for the rest of her life.

bethmead: What can I say, I’m an expert at embarrassing myself.

The deed done, Beth switched back to the text message conversation with Al and let her know she should be all set until her next embarrassing mistake. Al wished her a goodnight and begged her to keep her emergencies between the hours of 9-5. Wide awake and antsy, Beth decided to make a cup of tea and watch the sun rise in the garden.

As she settled in one of the garden chairs, the blanket from the living room across her lap, a DM flashed across her phone screen.

danielleddonk: Nothing embarrassing about appreciating art.

Beth almost snorted her tea as she laughed. God, this woman had no shame. Also, why was Daan awake right now?

bethmead: True! The pool and location are splendid.

danielleddonk: Ah, yes, the pool you can barely see and two palm trees. Very splendid.

bethmead: Love that you’ve been waiting around all night for me to respond to your messages.

danielleddonk: Gotta thank the girl who took the time to scroll through years of my Instagram pictures.

Ouch.

Beth took a sullen sip of her tea and debated about how she wanted to respond. The sky was beginning to lighten and birds were tittering in the bushes of the other gardens. Unfortunately, Beth and her housemates didn’t have much time to dedicate to their garden so it was very bare compared to the neighbors. Deciding she’d have to go all in, Beth put her tea down and committed to her response.

bethmead: Thank you for making the tedious scroll into your past worth it!

danielleddonk: You’re welcome, but I share my best work via Snapchat ;)

Goddamn her. As if The Picture wasn’t bad enough, now Beth was going to sit around and fantasize what was coming through via Snapchat. She really disliked this woman.

danielleddonk: I’d send you a request via Snapchat, but I’m severally lacking a tan at the moment. Don’t want to disappoint!

Beth was sure, tan or no tan, Daan wouldn’t disappoint. 

God, where was this coming from?

Had the weight room incident really rattled her that badly? But, even as Beth finished her tea and focused on the sunrise, she knew this problem had started long before the weight room incident. At Sunderland, she had been focused, all consumed by training and improving her game. That focus had only intensified when she and Charlie had, well, broken up was too simple a term for what had happened.

When Arsenal had come calling, she’d been so excited, and hadn’t expected the move to be this hard. She didn’t know why she she was being so silly and easily distracted…well, she kind of knew why but she couldn’t go there. Plus, it was too soon and she had more important things to worry about.

danielleddonk: Did my lack of a tan scare you away?

bethmead: No, sorry, just lost in thought.

danielleddonk: Couldn’t sleep? Or did you get a very early workout in?

bethmead: My stomach woke me up :( I fell asleep early last night and forgot to make myself dinner.

danielleddonk: BETH! We’re at the start of the season! Not good. There’s so much food in the fridge (I know because I labeled it) make sure you have a good breakfast and lunch.

Beth was kind of impressed Dan hadn’t made some comment about how The Picture had knocked her out last night.

bethmead: Leftover Chinese food for breakfast is such a University move.

danielleddonk: …I don’t follow? 

bethmead: Eating leftovers for breakfast is something stressed and overworked University students do.

danielleddonk: Oh! I usually work my stress out in other ways, but a leftover vegetable omelette sounds good too. ;)

bethmead: You’re insufferable :| 

danielleddonk: You mean fun! Marie is a lot of fun too, want me to introduce you? ;)

Beth stared at her phone, dumbstruck. Was Daan suggesting what she thought she was suggesting? For perhaps the millionth time this weekend, Beth was blushing furiously. It was a tempting offer, but Beth didn’t think she’d be able to play it cool. The last thing she wanted to do was fuck up something like that, with her confused feelings and checked out brain.

Still at a loss for words, Beth took a screenshot of the recent message and sent it to Al, entitled, HELP. Now that it was a reasonable hour of the morning, Al responded without much prompting.

Al: YES!

Al: The word you’re looking for is YES!

Al: It’s also the word you’ll be screaming. ;) Get it Meado!

Beth: You’re not helping!

Al: GIRL! Live your life! Stop looking a Dutch gift horse in the mouth.

Al: OMG! Can I PLEASE tell the girls you’re freaking out over a threesome invite? PLEASE?

Beth: NO!

Al: Too late!

Just then, the group message EXPLODED, all the Whitby girls losing it over Beth’s current predicament. Choosing to ignore them, Beth closed her text messages and stared at Daan’s recent DM. Beth liked to think she had some game, but the alpha was just surprising her at every turn. How did one casually respond to a message like that?

Deciding that sometimes no answer was the best answer (okay, so she chickened out), Beth closed out of Instagram and headed inside to get an omelet started. She had a long day of training a head of her, and a stomach full of butterflies was not going to help.

———

“Dvd! Take a lap.” Coach barked.

They were running a series of passing drills, and Daan was struggling. She kept putting too much on the ball and her passes were racing past their intended targets. Head down and scent burning with frustration, Daan moved away from her drill group and jogged past Beth to the edge of the field to begin her lap. 

Refreshed from their mini vacation, or extra training session if you were a Lioness, the Arsenal girls had returned fresh faced and chipper, with the exception of Daan. The alpha had returned from her break at home oddly reserved and quiet. While the other girls were quick to share their adventures, Daan had remained tight lipped and deflected any questions aimed at her. She wasn’t even being irritating at the house, all pranks suddenly stalled and the majority of her time spent in her room.

Everyone had picked up on Daan’s mood, but Dom and Vivianne had deterred any attempts by the other girls to figure out what was wrong. They seemed to hover around Daan, and were quick to flash their teeth or aim a growl at anyone who pressed their friend. It was irritating, but Beth couldn’t help but admire how close they all were.

Daan's sullen mood persisted through trainings and a few games. While she knew the change in Daan’s demeanor wasn’t entirely her fault, Beth couldn’t help but feel guilty. She had been the one to talk Daan out of skipping her trip home, and clearly something had happened while she was in Holland. Plus, there was that whole Instagram conversation that Beth had awkwardly dropped.

Beth hadn’t been able to look Daan in the eye without blushing since the break, and had given up on trying for friends. Awkward silence and vacating rooms when the other walked in was working much better. Plus, Beth had made her peace with forever being embarrassed around the other woman.

However, as the weeks wore on, their awkward dance of avoidance began to fall apart.

———

Daan barked something in Dutch at Dom, and Beth glanced up from tying her trainers. They had just finished another training session, and were changing back into their street clothes so they could head home. The locker room was emptying out quickly, but Daan was still in her training kit and tearing through her locker. Shirts, socks, and a lone cleat sailed through the air as Daan pawed through her things, movements becoming more and more erratic.

Half dressed, Dom abandoned her shirt and sidled over to Daan’s locker, speaking Dutch and trying to calm Daan’s frantic searching. Daan just snapped back at her in Dutch and continued to panic. Duffel bag empty and locker swiped clean, Daan begin to kick the discarded contents of both bag and locker about the room. Her eyes were glued to the floor while she gestured wildly and spoke in rapid fire Dutch.

“Oi, what’s the matter?” Beth questioned, but neither Dom nor Daan responded. They just kept speaking in Dutch. 

Dom began to collect Daan’s things and was shaking them out carefully, like she was looking for something hiding in the folds of Daan’s clothes. Trainer’s tied, Beth got to her feet and surveyed the room, eyes flicking back and forth between Dom and Daan. They were clearly looking for something, but Beth had no idea what that something was.

Just as she was about to question Dom and Daan again, Vivianne opened the door to the locker room and paused in the doorway. She always forgot her keys in her locker, despite the not so friendly signs Lisa had posted all over it to help her remember.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Vivianne asked.

Beth just shrugged and gestured to Dom and Daan who were conversing in Dutch again. Daan’s voice was beginning to mimic her frantic movements, her tone high pitched and wavering. Vivianne must have repeated her earlier question in Dutch, because Daan whirled around and responded. As she filled Vivianne in, Daan pressed a hand to her sternum, fingers splayed along the hollow of her throat.

Whatever was going on was really upsetting Daan. The alpha’s scent was swelling, panicked pheromones building in the small space of the locker room. She even had tears welling in her eyes as she spoke in rapid fire Dutch to Vivianne and Dom.

“Earth to the Dutchies!” Beth said. “I’d like to help, but I’ve no idea what we’re looking for.”

“My necklace.” Daan’s accent was thick, her words rushed. “Its fallen off, I can’t-” she broke off in Dutch, her fingers tapping against her throat.

Now that she was looking for it, Beth realized the simple, single diamond necklace Daan always wore wasn’t around the alpha’s throat. It was clear from Daan’s rising panic that the piece of jewelry meant a lot to her. Beth approached Daan slowly, all too aware of how out of sorts she was at the moment, and spoke in what she hoped was a reassuring tone.

“Okay, I’ll help you and Dom look for it. Don’t worry, we’ll find it, we just need to retrace your steps.”

Nodding miserably, Daan went back to scanning the locker room floor. Vivianne began to poke around in the other girl’s lockers, checking the benches to see if the necklace had somehow fallen off while Daan was chatting with people after practice. Dom pulled out her phone and must have sent a message in the group chat, because Daan and Beth’s phones began to chime as the team got involved.

After walking the locker room floor a few times, Beth directed Daan to the showers and made her way down the hall to the rec room. There she found Anna and Carla taking the sofa apart cushion by cushion, but neither girl had found the necklace yet. The rec room covered, Beth knocked on the door to the trainer’s room and pocked her head in.

Kim sat up on the table and waved her phone. “Just saw the group text, I checked with the trainers and they said Dvd hasn’t been in here today.”

“Shoot, okay, thanks Kim.” Beth said.

“Lisa’s in the parking lot, checking around Dom’s car, and I think Pauline and Manu are in the weight room, poking around.” 

One of the trainers walked in and motioned for Kim to lay down.

“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll help you guys check the pitch.” Kim said and Beth nodded as she closed the door.

Back in the hallway, Beth watched as Daan stumbled out of the locker room, wild eyed and hand still clutched against her chest. As Dom and Vivianne emerged, Beth filled them in on the other search teams and suggested they head back out to the field. The four girls had just managed to finish triple checking the tunnel and benches when their other teammates joined them. Carefully, they spread out across the field and walked the length of it in a line, trying to cover as much ground as possible.

Despite their best efforts, and a second pass over the field, no one had been able to spot the necklace. Poor Daan was beside herself and was wandering aimlessly along the sideline. Her eyes were scanning the ground so fast, Beth doubted she could see her own feet, let alone the delicate necklace. 

Speaking in Dutch again, Dom approached Daan and tried to shepherd the other woman back inside. Daan turned away and snapped something in Dutch over her shoulder. Usually, Dom would fire some retort back, as she never let Daan get away with her attitude and fussing, but today she was quiet.

Unable to stand Daan wandering about the pitch any longer, Beth took a deep breath and walked over to her. Kim made a half hearted attempt to hold her back, but Beth shook off her hand. Beth knew Kim was still concerned about the fact that she had little to no self preservation, but Beth had faced down numerous upset alphas before. Sure, her track record wasn’t so great, and while her and Daan had a series of very awkward encounters, the other woman hadn’t hurt her, yet.

“Daan?” Beth asked quietly as she stepped into the other woman’s space.

Startled, Daan glanced up from the field, that too quick reaction that made Beth’s skin crawl. Acting on instinct, Beth flinched back, but a strong hand wrapped around her upper arm. Daan had grabbed ahold of her and was pulling her close. She said something in Dutch, and then when she got a good look at Beth’s face, she froze. 

“Sorry,” Daan whispered sheepishly, her accent still thick and hard to understand, “I thought you slipped.”

Carefully, she let go of Beth’s arm and stepped back, eyes flicking over Beth’s shoulder. Beth didn’t need to turn around to know Kim was giving Daan the stink eye. Trying and failing to defuse the awkward situation, Beth motioned over to the tunnel.

“Erm, let’s go check Dom’s car. Maybe your necklace fell off during the ride here this morning.”

———

They didn’t find Daan’s necklace in the car, or even under the car. After sweeping the parking lot and front steps again, the girls had to admit defeat. Poor Daan was devastated, the tears that had been welling up in her eyes finally spilling over and down her cheeks. Vivianne and Dom had tried to comfort her, but Daan shook off their Dutch words and wordlessly got into Dom’s car.

It was dark by the time they got home, so searching the driveway and front walk was out of the question. Poor Daan had rushed into the house, ignoring their words of comfort. Anna and Carla had vowed to check the whole first floor of the house, and Dom agreed to check the room she shared with Daan. Thinking perhaps the necklace had gotten caught in a shirt, Beth went to check the laundry room and machines.

When she turned up empty handed there, Beth made her way out into the garden, phone flashlight on. Sure, it was unlikely Daan’s necklace was out here, but Beth couldn’t stand to see the other woman so upset. Clearly, the necklace was very important to her. 

The search in the garden yielded the same results as the laundry room check had, but Beth wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet. Anna and Carla had pulled all their furniture apart, and were currently squabbling over how to put it back together. Beth ignored them and headed outside to the front of the house, to double check the front walk and driveway.

She tried her best to imitate Daan’s morning routine. The alpha was always running late, so she was the last one out of the house, and she was usually in a hurry. Beth made her way back up the driveway to the front steps. She shined her phone flashlight across the walkway and frowned.

No.

Daan took so long getting ready that Dom usually pulled the car out of the drive and was idling in the street. So once Daan was finally done with her makeup and hair she had to sprint through the front garden to get to the road and Dom’s car. Beth began to push her way through the overgrown beds, the girls’ training and game schedule giving them little time to maintain the shrubbery.

As she made a third pass and was just about to give up, a gleam at the corner of her eye caught Beth’s attention. She stood stock still and swept her phone flashlight carefully over the area. After a few seconds, she saw the gleam again and stumbled toward it. There, half buried beneath churned up mulch was a delicate silver chain. Carefully, Beth brushed the dirt away and picked the chain up, mindful of the diamond hanging from it. 

“I found it!” Beth shouted to no one, Anna and Carla having remained inside, still fighting over how to arrange the rooms they’d destroyed. 

Clutching both ends of the necklace in her hand, Beth raced up the front walk and back into the house. She was so excited, she forgot to toe off her trainers and was tracking dirt all through the house. Still shouting, Beth raced up the stairs and flung the door to Daan and Dom’s room open.

“I found it!” Beth announced happily to the room. Dom was kneeling on the floor, folding some laundry, and Daan, still teary eyed, was sitting on her bed and FaceTiming someone from home.

It took a second, but Daan’s gaze finally traveled from her phone screen, to Beth’s face, and then to the hand Beth was holding triumphantly before her. The necklace dangled from her fingers, the diamond at the center of the chain spinning lazily. Once Daan saw the necklace, she launched herself off the bed and at Beth.

Unprepared for the sudden weight of the other woman against her, Beth stumbled back and fetched up against the doorframe. Two impossibly strong arms were wound around her waist, and Daan buried her face in Beth’s shoulder. A quick sob shook Daan’s frame, and Beth regained enough of her senses to pat the other woman’s back awkwardly. Overjoyed, Daan said something in Dutch and then kissed Beth’s cheek.

“Oh.” Beth said stupidly as a blush flushed across her face.

Daan pulled away with a teary laugh and wiped at her eyes. She repeated that Dutch word again and then translated it, “Thank you.”

Reverently, Daan took the necklace from Beth’s hand and held it to her chest. She smiled so wide that Beth couldn’t help but grin back at her. Dom chose that moment to remind Beth about her shoes, and she hastily toed them off and tossed them in the hall. A garbled voice echoed from somewhere in Daan’s comforter, and the alpha turned back to her bed with a guilty expression.

She said something in Dutch and then grabbed Beth’s hand and dragged her over to the bed. Dom got up from the floor and announced she was going to get a snack and left the room, but made sure to close the door behind her. Slightly concerned she was now alone with an emotional alpha in her den, Beth stumbled after Daan to the bed.

Daantje?” 

That disembodied voice was back, accent somewhat familiar but tone garbled by the phone’s speaker. Daan took a seat on the bed, necklace still clutched to her chest and fished around for her phone. Once located, she set the phone on her dresser and motioned for Beth to sit down.

Taken aback, Beth hesitated. 

If Daan had been one of the Whitby girls or a Lioness, Beth would already be on the bed with her, but Daan wasn’t pack. She was a spitfire of an alpha who Beth had one too many awkward encounters with. The safe, smart thing to do would be to politely decline and back out of the room. But since when did Beth do the safe, smart thing?

When Daan furrowed her brow and cocked her head questioningly, Beth made up her mind. She clambered onto Daan’s bed, and the Dutch woman’s confused expression split into a smile. Daan even wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, which of course caused Beth to almost leap out of her skin. Thankfully, Daan didn’t comment and instead, turned them toward her propped up phone screen.

Daan’s sister regarded them curiously from the phone screen, her dark hair and eyes painfully familiar. If possible, her gaze was even sharper than Daan’s.

“Daantje,” Daan’s sister said, and then followed up with some sentence in Dutch.

Wiping discreetly at her eyes, Daan nodded and replied in Dutch. She held out the necklace, and then glanced at Beth with a shy smile. Grinning, Daan’s sister said something cheeky in Dutch, if her smile was anything to go by. Much to Beth’s surprise, Daan actually looked a bit flustered when she mumbled a reply.

Narrowing her eyes playfully, Daan’s sister growled something in Dutch, and Daan flipped her off. With over emphasized care, Daan repeated her mumbled Dutch sentence and then made some kind of introduction. Beth recognized her name, but not much else.

“Evie,” Daan motioned to the phone screen and then at Beth, “this is my friend, Beff, and Beff, this is my older sister, Evie.”

“Hullo!” Beth chirped happily, even though she was still freaking out over the fact that she was sitting in Daan’s bed, pressed up against the alpha’s side. Also, Daan had referred to her as her “friend,” not teammate. Did that mean all their awkward interactions were behind them?

“Hi, Beth!” Evie’s accent, while much thicker than Daan’s, didn’t muddle the last two letter’s of Beth’s name. “Thank you so much for helping, Daantje. I told her someone would stumble upon the necklace sooner or later.”

“Yeah.” Daan turned to her slightly and Beth couldn’t believe how close they were sitting. She could pick out the lighter flecks of brown in Daan’s eyes. “Where did you end up finding it?”

It took Beth a second to find her voice, and to remember to look away from Daan. “The front garden. It must have fallen off this morning when you were running to Dom’s car in the street.”

Evie laughed. “Why are you running after Dom, Daantje?”

Not giving the other woman a chance to reply, Beth launched into a description of Daan’s harried morning routine. Evie absolutely loved it, and gave Daan a hard time for running late. This of course prompted Daan to fire back something in Dutch and the two sisters broke into a light hearted squabble. Soon, Evie was back to speaking English and apologizing for the side conversation.

“That’s okay!” Beth said. “I’d give her a hard time in another language too if I could.”

Good naturally, Daan gave her a light shove with her shoulder. Beth glanced at her to make sure she hadn’t overstepped, and was surprised to find Daan looking at her again. Momentarily forgetting Evie’s presence, Beth returned Daan’s gaze. Those warning bells in Beth’s head began to ring as she continued to stare the alpha down, but Daan didn’t growl at her or flash her teeth.

Daan’s fiery, campfire scent was enveloping Beth. They were so close, plus, the comforter and pillows they were sitting amongst were the heart of the alpha’s den. Despite sharing the room with Dom, it was almost impossible to pick out the beta’s scent, everything within the room a stark reminder of Daan’s presence. Unlike in the weight room, the alpha’s pheromones weren’t demanding she submit, but they were still pushing against Beth’s senses. The promise of something angry and dangerous just waiting to ignite like a spark along dry kindling.

“Daantje.” Evie singsonged. 

The nickname, and Evie’s quiet giggle, broke Beth out of her trance. Embarrassed, she glanced down and tried to hide her blush behind her hair. Daan was infuriatingly unfazed, and responded to Evie in a haughty tone, though the Dutch words went right over Beth’s head. A gentle, tentative hand brushed against Beth’s lower back, and she sat up, ramrod straight. She tried to turn toward Daan again, but Evie switched back to English and Beth snapped her eyes over to the phone screen.  

“Beth, we’ll have to treat you the next time I visit.” Evie said and smiled sweetly at the camera. “Poor Daantje has been fretting over that necklace all night.”

“Oh, um,” Beth stuttered, “that’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to. Always happy to help a friend.”

“We’re not taking no for an answer.” Evie insisted. “Daantje and I are going to treat you to lunch the next time I’m in London. It’ll be fun! Plus, we can take the necklace to a jeweler to have the clasp fixed. This way, Daantje can lose it all over again.”  

Next to her, Daan fidgeted and blushed a bit, glancing down at the necklace in her hands. Just like on the bus, and the night before their long weekend, Daan seemed small in this moment. Granted, she was small to begin with, (Beth was a whole inch taller, thank you very much), but her personality usually made up for the lack of stature. 

“I’m sorry.” Daan whined.

Surprised by the ache in Daan’s voice, Beth pressed into her side and laid a hand on her arm. She gave it a comforting squeeze and was pleasantly surprised when the alpha leaned into her. Evie smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. Beth watched as she brought a hand up to her throat and played with a similar necklace there.

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Beth kind of startled herself with the outburst, but once the words were out she had to commit to them. “I wish I had a sister to do cute things like that with. My brother’s a jerk and would never wear a matching necklace with me.”

Both Daan and Evie laughed. Soon, Evie was asking all about Beth’s family and how her season was going. While she was all too happy to talk about Whitby, Beth got a little stuck on the soccer aspect of their conversation. That sneaky hand made a reappearance and once again startled Beth into sitting bolt upright.

Luckily, the sisters ignored her awkward reaction and continued to chat with her about Sunderland and the move to Arsenal. Evie was easy and fun to talk to, always asking open ended questions and listening carefully to what Beth did and didn’t say. Even Daan was a good listener, and was quick to empathize with her.

While Daan was a good listener, she absolutely hated talking about her self, which Beth was amused to learn. When Evie turned her questions to her sister, Daan had flopped back dramatically on her pillows and snapped something in Dutch. Untroubled by the childish behavior, Evie had kept poking until Daan begrudgingly offered a few answers.

Soon, a few hours had slipped by and they were saying their goodbyes to Evie.

“Beth, it was lovely meeting you and getting the chance to chat! You’ll have to pick a good place for lunch in London.” Evie smirked, and Beth was once again struck by how similar the two women were. “Or, Daantje can bring you to visit Holland and we can take you to our favorite spot here.”

In response, Daan growled and flashed her teeth at Evie. Those sparks Beth had been imagining earlier caught and Daan’s scent swelled, blanketing the room in a quickly growing fire of angry pheromones. Unprepared for the sudden shift in Daan’s mood, Beth fell painfully still. Evie’s sharp gaze cut through the phone screen and analyzed Beth’s face carefully. She snapped something in Dutch at Daan and curled her lip when Daan snapped back.

Despite her angry retort, Daan seemed to settle a bit and reined in her furious scent. Clarity slowly began to return to Beth’s head and she fidgeted nervously. Fingers brushed against her back again and she squirmed away, a quiet growl building in her throat. immediately, the fingers vanished and Daan brought both her hands to her lap, fingers clasped.

“Are you done being annoying?” Daan grumbled at Evie.

With a role of her eyes, Evie sighed dramatically and Beth couldn’t help but huff a laugh. Man, Evie and Daan were so alike it was downright hilarious.

“I’m your big sister, its my job to annoy you, so no, I’m not done. Stop moping around, you’re becoming boring to watch play.”

Outraged, Daan sat up suddenly and began to snarl something in Dutch, but Evie just gave them a sweet smile, a little wave, and disconnected the FaceTime call. Daan choked back a scream of frustration and flopped back on her pillows. It took Beth a minute to process everything, but when she did, she couldn’t hold back her laughter. Disgruntled, Daan glared at Beth from her pillow pile, arms crossed, and barked something in Dutch.

Beth tried to speak, but her giggles just got worse and soon she was clutching her stomach and finding it difficult to breathe. Pushing gently at her side, Daan tried to tip her off the bed, but Beth just twisted away and kept laughing. Daan growled at her, but she was smiling and kind of laughing too. Suddenly, a pillow bounced off Beth’s shoulder and she froze.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that.” Beth whispered. 

Daan blinked at her, playful growl dying in her throat. She looked adorably concerned, and Beth used that moment to steal a pillow out from under her and smacked her in the face with it. Spluttering, Daan kept one hand clasped around her necklace and swung her pillow blindly with the other. Beth dodged the strike easily and whacked Daan again, messing up her hair and  brushing it into her face.

Shouting in Dutch, Daan got off the bed and started to chase Beth around the room. Dom came flying in suddenly, almost catching Daan with the door, and assessed the pillow fight for a heartbeat. Soon, Dom had joined the fray and Beth was outnumbered. She managed to make a break for the door and stumbled down the stairs.

“Anna, Carla, help! The Dutch are armed and attacking!” Beth yelled.

“What?” Anna shouted back up the stairs, and then turned tail and ran when she saw Beth hurtling down at her, closely followed by Daan and Dom.

Beth skidded into the den after Anna and ducked just in time for Carla to chuck a couch cushion at Daan. Luckily, Daan’s small stature saved her from a full frontal pillow assualt, and Dom took the brunt of the damage. Suddenly outnumbered, the Dutch women fought back to back as Beth, Carla, and Anna hurled pieces of the couch and chairs at them.

The pillow fight lasted for some time, and took the girls through almost every room in the house. Near the end of it, all allegiances had broken down and it was every woman for herself. Daan’s aim was horrible, and Beth was quick to tell her it was a good thing she had picked football as opposed to tennis. That had prompted the alpha to pout, discard her pillow, and tackle Beth to the ground. She had yelped in surprise and then shrieked when Daan started tickling her.

Thankfully, the other girls chose that moment to gang up on Daan and Beth was able to wiggle free. After some more back and forth, the girls’ adrenaline soon faded and they accepted a truce. For once, everyone pitched in to clean up and they managed to right the house in record time. Dinner was fun, and the jokes and conversation flowed easily. 

One by one, they headed off to bed, but Beth felt inspired by her conversation with Daan and Evie to call her own family. She had untethered some of the more general weights weighing heavy on her chest earlier, but she needed to spill her guts once and for all. Thankfully, her mom picked up on the first ring and listened carefully as she described her recent struggles. 

Once everything had been spilled and her mom managed to restore her confidence, Beth headed off to bed. On her way up the stairs, she grabbed a discarded pillow. That burning sensation Beth was slowly getting used to built up in her lungs. Clearly, the pillow belonged to Daan. She knocked softly on Daan and Dom’s door, and peaked inside when Daan murmured something unintelligible in Dutch.

The alpha was in bed, the muted light from her phone screen picking her face out in stark relief. Across the room, Dom was just a mound of blankets, still and quiet. Daan sat up a little and Beth silently held up the pillow in her hand. Smiling, Daan motioned her into the room and snuggled back down into her pillow mountain. 

Hesitantly, Beth took a seat on the edge of Daan’s bed, and the other woman gazed up at her expectantly. It was an odd arrangement, the alpha reclined and vulnerable beneath Beth. Wordlessly, she handed the pillow back and Daan added it to her collection. Awkward tension building, Beth made to get up, but Daan laid a hand on her thigh.

“Dom’s a heavy sleeper,” Daan whispered, “so we can chat quietly. I just wanted to thank you again for finding my necklace. Its silly, but it means a great deal to me.”

Beth laid her hand over Daan’s and gave the other woman’s fingers a quick squeeze. “Its not silly.”

Daan hummed and then scooted back against the wall. “Here, come lay down so we don’t have to whisper yell at each other.”

Oh.

Brain short circuiting, Beth did as she was told and laid down carefully along the edge of Daan’s bed. The alpha’s scent washed over her, now nothing but sleepy embers burning low. It was oddly comforting, and Beth slowly began to relax until Daan wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her forward. Muscles tightening, Beth tried to resist, but Daan was unusually strong despite her tiny frame. Clearly, all the hours she spent in the weight room were paying off.

Daan whispered something in Dutch, and Beth recognized it from earlier in the day. Nerves alight and tension making her fists clench, Beth tried and failed to make her whisper nonchalant.

“What does that word mean? You said it on the field too.”

Phone locked and laying between them, Daan’s face was lost in shadow. Even being so close, it was impossible to make out the alpha’s expression in the dark room. She slid her arm off of Beth’s waist, and tucked her hand close to her chest. 

“Careful.” Daan whispered, and then said it again in Dutch. “You were teetering on the edge, I didn’t want you to fall off the bed.”

Beth mumbled a thank you, and tried not to breathe too deep. Face resting against Daan’s pillow mountain, it felt like Beth was swimming in a sea of the alpha’s pheromones. She was a little light headed, though the dizzy sensation was no where near as bad as it had been in the weight room.

Searching for something to say, Beth commented on the obvious. “You have a lot of pillows.”

Daan smothered a laugh into said pillows and nestled deeper into them. “I like being comfortable.”

“Well, if we ever lose you, I’ll know where to look first.” Beth whispered.

Even though she couldn’t see her clearly, Beth knew Daan was smiling.

“Oh so confident, aren’t you Sherlock, now that you solved the great necklace mystery.” Daan then found her hand and laced their fingers together. “Sorry my sister was being nosy earlier. I can’t promise she won’t interrogate you again over lunch, but at least you’ll be able to get some free food out of it.”

Shocked that they were suddenly holding hands, Beth didn’t respond immediately. When she did find her voice, her whisper was so low even she could barely hear herself speak.

“That’s okay, she was really sweet. Plus, it was good to talk to someone.”

Daan made a quiet, searching sound in the back of her throat, something along the lines of a whine. “I’m sorry you’ve been bottling everything up for so long. I know we don’t have the best track record, but you can talk to me. I do want to be your friend, Beff.”

Beth squeezed Daan’s fingers gently and swallowed nervously. “I know.”

Carefully, Daan let her hand go and brushed her hair over her shoulder. She then trailed her hand down Beth’s arm and let it rest on her elbow. Swiping her thumb back and forth mindlessly, Daan quickly snatched her hand back when Beth tensed.

“You’re afraid of me.” Daan whispered hopelessly.

“No.” Beth replied automatically, but she knew it was a lie.

Daan seemed to know too and made that searching sound again. 

“Maybe a little?” Beth questioned. “I don’t know, I feel all out of sorts.”

“How do I help?” Daan whispered, and Beth could feel the alpha’s gaze searching her own through the shadows.

She thought for a minute, and then two. Unable to come up with anything, she tentatively took Daan’s hand again. Daan let her process everything quietly, yet Beth was sill unable to find a suitable answer. Instead, she told Daan about her frustrations with the St. George’s roster, and how she felt like her chance with the Lionesses was slipping away. Daan let her speak, and occasionally squeezed her hand when her whisper would cut off.

When Beth was finished, Daan tried and failed to start a sentence several times, but she eventually got something out.

“Maybe we should train together?” Daan suggested, and then clarified what she meant because they already trained together. “Like outside of regular practice. I’ve been struggling too and could use the extra work.”

Beth pondered the idea for a moment. She recognized the offer for what it was, an olive branch, just like that cup of tea all those weeks ago.

“Okay.” Beth whispered. “But on one condition.”

Daan squeezed her hand and waited for her to continue.

“Why are you suddenly having so much trouble on the pitch?” Beth asked.

The surprise rolling across Daan’s face was palpable, even though Beth couldn’t see a thing in the dark. Now it was Beth’s turn to squeeze Daan’s fingers and wait the alpha out. Minutes dragged by and Daan stayed perfectly still. Just when Beth thought she had crossed the line, Daan mumbled something Beth could barely make out.

“I broke up with Marie.”

Despite their track record and the way her muscles seemed to seize around the other woman, Beth scooted closer to Daan. She unlaced their fingers and wrapped her arm around Daan’s comforter clad waist so she could pull her close. Daan curled into her without much prompting and tucked her head beneath Beth’s chin. Beth didn’t need to brush her fingers across Daan’s cheek to know she was crying.

Gently, Beth rubbed circles against Daan’s back and listened as the alpha told her about Marie. They’d been together for five years, though the relationship had been more off then on near the end. Marie hadn’t been a fan of long distance, and here, Daan took a shuddering breath so big, Beth pulled her in tight for fear of her shaking apart. Daan had made a choice, Arsenal over her long term girlfriend and even more long term childhood friend. It had been for the best, the two women growing in different directions over the years, but still, it hurt.

Suddenly, everything from the past few weeks clicked together. The weird silence that had started on the bus ride home all those weeks ago and had persisted through today. The teary eyed FaceTime call she had interrupted, which after hearing Evie speak tonight, had clearly not been with Evie. No wonder Daan had been on the fence about heading home that weekend. Talk about a shitty break, both from soccer and to a years long relationship.   

“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about going home.” Beth whispered once Daan’s breathing had evened out.

Daan didn't respond, but she sighed, like she had just finished a day of sprinting and had been finally told she could sit down. Pulling back a little, so that their faces were barely a breath apart on the same pillow, Daan regarded her. It was too dark to make out Daan’s expression, but Beth could feel the heavy weight of her gaze. Alphas had this innate ability to make something as simple as a glance feel like a hand closing around you. Just as Beth was about to look down and put some space between them, Daan laced their fingers together again.

She spoke in Dutch, the words slow and careful so that Beth could pick out each unique sound they made in the quiet room. It was a phrase Daan had said a few times, several weeks ago.

You are safe.

Beth let her repeat the phrase now, the words wrapping around and enveloping her like Daan’s scent. It took a few whispers, but eventually the tension in Beth’s body began to melt away. She stared back at Daan in the dark, that heavy sensation still present, but not as sinister. It was easier to return Daan’s gaze in the shadows, everything distorted and undefined. As she continued to relax and maintained eye contact, Daan let her Dutch trail off.

With a gentle squeeze of their still interlocked fingers, Beth felt rather than saw Daan close her eyes and settle in to sleep. The smart thing to do would be to slide her fingers free and tip toe off to her own room, but Beth never chose the smart answer. She stayed awake a little while longer, until her eyes were too heavy and closed of their own accord. Embers were stirring in her lungs, but rather than startle her, they seemed to sooth, like the heat from a merrily burning fire.

Notes:

Noted all the requests for other pairings and working on how to fit them in. As mentioned in the story summary, everything will eventually intersect at some point, but we've got a ways to go before that. Thank you for all the kind reviews, looking forward to what you have to say about this chapter. Will do my best to respond to everyone and get a move on with the next chapter.

Chapter 11: Nahikari and Virginia 3

Summary:

Putting the slow in slow burn. Bit of a filler chapter, but we have to set some things up before we can break it all down.

Notes:

Anything in italics is being spoken in Basque.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

A knock at her door made Nahikari pause. She glanced up from her textbook and waited a beat. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and it wouldn’t be the first time one of her neighbors’ guests had mistaken her door for their’s. Turning back to her textbook, Nahikari found her place and began the paragraph on soft tissue injuries again. She barely made it through the second sentence before another knock disrupted the quiet of her apartment.

With a frown, Nahikari carefully got to her feet and limped over to the door. Glancing through the peephole, Nahikari’s frown deepened when she caught a glimpse of her unexpected guest. She was so surprised, she opened the door before undoing the chain lock.

“Fuck!” Nahikari swore, as the door opened a crack and then caught. Fumbling like an idiot, she shut the door and undid the lock. When she opened the door a second time, the poorly suppressed grin on her guest’s face made her flush.

Shut up.” Nahikari mumbled in Basque.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Virginia laughed.

Confused, Nahikari glanced over her shoulder at the stove clock and then frowned at Virginia. “Its almost noon.”

Still smiling, Virginia cocked her head. “Yeah, but it’s Sunday.”

“Who the hell sleeps until noon, Sunday or not?” Nahikari questioned.

“People who appreciate the joys of life.” Virginia quipped back.

Nahikari rolled her eyes and called Virginia lazy in Basque.

“I’m going to take whatever you just said as a compliment.” Virginia laughed. “Can I come in, or should I say, permission to come aboard captain?”

“What?”

Virginia gestured down at the walking boot on her right foot. “You’re giving me a run for my money for that Disneyland Paris position. Really committing to that pirate role with the peg leg.”

Nahikari curled her lip and growled. Rather than deter Virginia, it seemed to egg the other woman on. The alpha’s smile became a smirk and she leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. 

“Not sure if your pirate hat would stay on, but we could pin it in place.” Virginia said and nodded at the incredibly messy bun sitting atop Nahikari’s head.

It was humid today, the air pressing down like a weighted blanket. Nahikari’s hair always had a mind of its own, but the humidity had it frizzing out, two sizes too big. Since she didn’t have any plans for the day beyond studying, she hadn’t put any effort into taming her curls. Her goal had been to get everything off her neck and away from her face before it suffocated her.

Self consciously, Nahikari patted her bun and told Virginia her shirt was stupid in Basque. The alpha was wearing a brightly colored tank top with a dizzying pattern. Unfortunately, Virginia didn’t speak Basque, so she just continued to smirk.

“Going to take that as a compliment as well.” Virginia sassed.

Exasperated, Nahikari shut the door in Virginia’s face and shuffled back to her stool at the counter. The walking boot added an extra inch to the right side of her body, making Nahikari list almost drunkenly to the side. Frustrated with her slow and awkward progress, Nahikari couldn’t help but growl quietly at herself.

As she carefully situated herself back on her stool, the front door opened and closed. Bold of Virginia to assume she could just waltz right in.

Go away.” Nahikari snapped in Basque, eyes glued to her textbook.

Suddenly, two arms bracketed her and Virginia’s lips were right next to her ear. “What are you reading?”

Mind blanking, Nahikari’s instincts took over. Virginia had her pinned against the counter, the front of her stupid tank top brushing against Nahikari’s back. Attempting to put some minuscule space between them, Nahikari sat up, ramrod straight, and tucked her arms in close to her body. Baring her teeth, she growled, though the sound was a little too panicked to be truly menacing.

Ever infuriating, Virginia sighed and slumped onto the stool next to Nahikari. “So grumpy. Sure you didn’t just wake up?”

Teeth still bared, Nahikari’s growl became a snarl as she glared at Virginia. The alpha was unfazed, long limbs sprawled across the stool and counter. Head resting against her hand, Virginia regarded Nahikari thoughtfully.

“How do you say grumpy in Basque?” Virginia asked.

Fuck off.” Nahikari snarled in Basque instead.

Virginia narrowed her eyes, though she was still slumped against the counter. “No, I don’t think that’s right. Whatever you just said is definitely another compliment for me.”

Conscious of how close they were and Virginia’s suddenly sharp gaze, Nahikari decided to be the bigger person. To an extent. She stopped snarling and pressed her lips into a thin line. Picking up her textbook, Nahikari stood it up and used it as a barrier between her and Virginia. Studiously ignoring Virginia’s huffed laugh, Nahikari found her spot again and began reading.

“Only you would shut yourself inside on such a nice day to study.” Virginia needled.

For once, Nahikari didn’t rise to the bait and the universe rewarded her for it. Thunder rumbled over the apartment, and rain began to fall. The door to the little balcony behind her couch was open, and Nahikari glanced over her shoulder as the few rain drops quickly became a steady downpour. It was still sunny out, the clouds having yet to descend from the mountains and roll across the city.

“Well,” Virginia sat up and frowned at the open balcony, “it was nice out.”

“Donostia fights back.” Nahikari mumbled from behind the textbook screen.

Virginia ignored her and tapped her walking boot with the toe of her shoe. “How’s your ankle?”

Slowly, Nahikari raised her eyes over the top of the textbook and glared at Virginia. The alpha was unfazed and just raised an eyebrow at her, eyes bright with laughter.

“That good, huh?” Virginia all but giggled.

Returning her attention to the textbook, Nahikari tried and failed to focus on the words in front of her. She was honestly surprised she wasn’t burning a hole through the book, all her frustration and anger over her injury boiling over. An ache was beginning behind her eyes and she willed herself to take a deep breath, or ten, because she was not going to cry in front of Virginia.

Ever oblivious, Virginia continued to question her about her ankle. “Being a good girl and taking your pain meds every 6 hours on the dot?”

Nahikari didn’t offer a response, gaze glued to the blurry words before her.

“I still don’t understand how it happened. One minute you were fine, and the next, they were pulling you off the field.”

“You watched my game?” Nahikari asked, surprised.

Virginia cocked her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Of course.”

Unsure what to do with that admission or Virginia’s soft tone, Nahikari retreated behind her book screen again. Her flustered reaction made Virginia laugh, and the alpha’s laugh made Nahikari growl. Ever the irritant, Virginia rapped her knuckles against the cover of the book.

“Knock, knock, its rude to ignore your guests and their questions.”

Carefully, Nahikari turned the page in her textbook and continued reading. When she didn’t respond after a beat or two, Virginia began tapping out a stuttering rhythm against the cover of the book. Annoyed, Nahikari tried to scoot away, but her back was already against the wall and there was nowhere to go. After a few minutes, the drum solo ceased and Nahikari peaked over the top of her textbook as Virginia sat up a bit.

“Your apartment is cute.” Virginia said as she glanced around.

It was a small space, easily a third of the size of Virginia and Lola’s apartment in Madrid. Nahikari could only fit two stools at her counter peninsula. There was no space for a table, so she had squeezed in a slightly tattered and overstuffed armchair. Across from the the chair, a small love seat was crammed full of colorful pillows. One pillow even looked to be covered in feathers.

Pictures of Nahikari’s family and friends crowded the walls. Books were stacked neatly on top of and underneath the small coffee table. A few plants were crammed into the space too, crawling over the arm of the love seat and boldly growing tall amongst the stacks of books on the coffee table.

“Wait.” Virginia got to her feet and moved to stand next to the coffee table. “Where’s your TV?”

Without glancing at Virginia, this chapter on soft tissue injuries was finally starting to get interesting, Nahikari mumbled, “I don’t have one.”

“Talk about a serial killer trait.” Virginia whispered.

“Excuse me?” Nahikari questioned, Virginia’s statement ripping her head out of the book.

Virginia gestured to her tiny living room. “How do you not have a TV?”

Nahikari shrugged. “I don’t need one, I like to read.”

“How do you watch any of the games?” Virginia questioned.

“They don’t show the La Liga games on TV.”

“Touché.” Virginia said. “What about all the other games?”

“We take over one of the video rooms at the club and play them on the big screen.” Nahikari explained.

Turning away from the open balcony door and sheets of rain falling outside, Virginia regarded her carefully. “Yeah?”

Nahikari nodded.

“That sounds fun.” Virginia said a little wistfully. 

Before Nahikari could press her on that response, Virginia turned away and meandered through the small living space. Glancing back at her book, Nahikari let the alpha roam, trying and failing to ignore her. Leaves rustled as Virginia brushed up against the plants while trying to push her way around the furniture and book piles. A few covers flipped open, and then thumped closed as Virginia glanced through the summaries.  

An ominous creak from the couch made Nahikari glance over her shoulder. Kneeling on the cushions, Virginia was leaning over the back of the couch. A little ledge too small to walk out on, the balcony behind the couch had been given over to a mishmash of flowers and houseplants. Nahikari watched, amused, as Virginia brushed her hand over some petals and then carefully nudged one of the Venus fly trap stalks. The mouth on the end of the stalk closed quickly, and the alpha jerked her hand back with a gasp.

Smothering a laugh, Nahikari turned back around and tried to read a few more sentences. She could hear Virginia behind her, mumbling to herself as she played with the plants. After a few minutes, the couched creaked again and Virginia continued her shuffle about the room. 

“No TV and a carnivores plant. Two serial killer traits crammed into one room.”

Studiously ignoring Virginia, Nahikari hunched into her book and continued to read. Despite her uninvited guest, she was making some progress with this chapter.

“Is this your whole family?” Virginia asked.

With a sigh, Nahikari marked her place in her book and turned around. The picture Virginia was pointing at had been taken a few years ago, during her grandfather’s eightieth birthday party. Practically everyone from the extended family had come home to celebrate. The photographer had to stand on a table several feet from them in order to get everyone in the picture.

“Yes, that’s almost everyone.” Nahikari said.

“Almost everyone?” Virginia whistled. “Talk about a big family.”

Nahikari smiled, her family was perhaps her favorite subject. Right next to soccer of course. “A few of my cousins have had a baby or two since that picture was taken.”

Stooping down a bit to get a good look at the picture, Virginia analyzed it carefully. As she swept her gaze over the many smiling faces, a rare, serious expression took hold.

“Was this from a reunion?” Virginia asked.

“No, just a birthday party for my grandfather.” Nahikari replied.

Inceedroulus, Virginia glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. “All these people turned out for a birthday party?”

“Yes!” Nahikari snapped. “Just because your family is boring and doesn’t like a good party, doesn’t mean mine is the same.”

“Boring.” Virginia seemed to be rolling the word around in her mouth, as if testing it. She didn’t add onto the thought, just made an affirmative sound and moved onto reviewing other pictures on the wall.

Almost all of the photos were of her family, though there were a few of her friends and teammates scattered about. Virginia looked over all of them with the same serious expression, seemingly contemplating each smiling face. She paused a little longer at one photo, an old shot of her in her childhood bedroom. Nahikari was sitting in her mom’s lap, laughing as her mom tickled her.

It was a cute picture, but Nahikari couldn’t figure out what about it had caught Virginia’s attention. The alpha was scrutinizing it carefully, and had even stepped over a plant to get closer. 

“Is that,” Virginia pointed at the picture, “a poster of Vero on your bedroom wall?”

Everything ground to a halt. The patter of rain fell silent suddenly, and the humidity seemed to suck all the air out of the room. In the blink of an eye, Nahikari’s face went white as a sheet and then as red as Virginia’s nail polish. She spluttered for an excuse, but it was too late, Virginia had all the confirmation she needed.

“Oh, this is FANTASTIC!” The alpha crowed and reached for her pocket, but her phone was on the peninsula.

Nahikari lunged for it just as Virginia tried and failed to jump a stack of books to beat her to it. Clutching the device to her chest, Nahikari snarled as Virginia closed the short distance between them. Luckily, the strewn pile of books tripped the alpha up and made her stumble. That gave Nahikari just enough time to awkwardly scramble to sit on the countertop. The new seat gave her the vantage point she needed.

“Take another step and I send your phone flying through the streets of Donostia.”

Virginia straightened just as Nahikari delivered her threat. It had the intended effect and sent the alpha stumbling again as she reared back in horror. Needing this to work, Nahikari even held the phone up and mimed throwing it through the open balcony door.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Virginia growled, but her wide eyes gave away her fear.

“Forget what you saw and maybe I’ll give you your phone.” Nahikari replied.

Narrowing her eyes, Virginia let her growl grow a bit louder. “Give me my phone or I’ll take it from you, how about that?”

“Do as I say or we’ll test your reflexes, how about that?”

Still growling, Virginia backed off and took a seat on the couch. Tension crawled across her body and she seemed ready to jump up at the slightest twitch of Nahikari’s hand. Her usually laughing eyes were hard and she kept her gaze locked on the omega threatening her.

Concerned she had taken the joke, well, mostly a joke, a little too far, Nahikari glanced around the room. None of the plants, appliances, or books offered her any help, unfortunately. Trying and failing to avoid Virginia’s furious gaze, Nahikari fidgeted as the weight of the stare landed upon her. It was somehow worse than the humidity, pressing closer than a second skin.

“Please don’t embarrass me in front of Vero.” Nahikari whispered. 

She held the phone out as a peace offering, but the move made Virginia jump to her feet. Equally startled as the alpha, if not more so, Nahikari flinched away and knocked her walking boot against the cabinets. She yelped as the vibration rattled through her ankle and up her calf, pain following the tremors.

Suddenly, Virginia was right in front of her.

How the alpha managed to navigate the maze of strewn books and plants without tripping like before was a mystery, but Nahikari couldn’t help but wish she had face planted. Virginia was too close, her still irritated scent too sharp, and her hands were gripping too tight. Struggling to break free, Nahikari sent her abandoned textbook thumping to the ground. The noise made her jump again and her walking boot connected with the cabinets a bit harder this time.

She whimpered, and Virginia’s hands slid from her upper arms to her face. Despite her strong hold, Virginia carefully tipped Nahikari’s face so that she had no choice but to return the alpha’s stare. Of course, even seated on the counter, Nahikari was still a few inches shorter and she was forced to look up at Virginia. It was infuriating how unfair the world could be some times.

“Stop it.” Virginia commanded. She didn’t snarl, or bare her teeth, but she put a certain kind of force into her words that was impossible to ignore.

Nahikari stilled, eyes locked onto Virginia. As they stared each other down, Nahikari wished she could turn her head away. The indescribable force that had laced Virginia’s words was in her stare as well. Something fuzzy and insistent buzzed in Nahikari’s head. She needed to look away, or down, maybe both? Unbidden, a shiver wracked her frame, and then a blush when she remembered she was supposed to be holding still.  

“Let me help you down so you don’t jostle your ankle.” Virginia was using that tone again, the one that Nahikari couldn’t ignore.

Carefully, Virginia moved her hands away from Nahikari’s face and then around her waist. As soon as Virginia’s fingers slipped away, Nahikari gave into the white noise and locked her gaze on the floor. Usually, she would have fussed and kicked as Virginia helped her off the counter, but she remained impossibly still, as instructed earlier. Once Nahikari was seated on the stool, Virginia made a quiet noise in the back of her throat and moved away. 

She retrieved the textbook from the floor on the other side of the peninsula, and stood it back up screen style. As she sprawled across the stool opposite Nahikari, she brushed a hand against the omega’s knee. Nahikari glanced up at her, blinking quizzically at Virginia’s tentative smile. Spell seemingly broken and the fuzziness fading, Nahikari fumbled the phone back into Virginia’s hand.

“Sorry.” Nahikari mumbled, and then slumped behind her book screen.

Virginia knocked softly against the cover of the book and then peaked over the top. Nahikari glanced up, her chin resting on her folded arms.

“Forgiven!” Virginia chirped and then dangled her phone over the book. “Here, I’m going to look at your pictures again but don’t want you to tackle me in a fit of rage.”

Snorting a laugh and blushing only a little, Nahikari took the offered phone. Virginia got to her feet and went back to inspecting the pictures on the wall.

“If it makes you feel better, I had the same poster on my wall when I was little.”

Nahikari couldn’t help but ask. “Only when you were little?”

“You got me.” Virginia feigned an exasperated sigh. “My whole room is plastered with pictures of her.”

Laughing, Nahikari watched as Virginia returned to the big family photo. Just as before, the alpha carefully analyzed all the faces. A small smile flitted across her face when she stumbled upon Nahikari in the picture, or so it was assumed. 

Seemingly sensing Nahikari’s searching gaze, Virginia looked away from the picture and asked, “Are you one of the younger cousins?”

“The youngest. Some of my cousins’ kids are closer in age to me than my cousins are.”

With a laugh, Virginia cooed and grinned at her. “Baby Nahi.”

“The door is behind you.” Nahikari snapped and turned back to her textbook.

Virginia ambled back over to the stool opposite her and sat down. “Does your family all live in Donostia?”

“No, the majority of my family lives several hours from here, or outside Spain.” She was doing her best to ignore Virginia, but the other woman was very intent on playing twenty questions.

“Do you get to see them often?”

Throat suddenly tight, Nahikari ground out a response. “Not as often as I would like.”

Virginia hummed and asked another question. “Is your home close to Irene?”

“No. Irene lives farther south, almost on the edge of Basque Country.”

“She’s kind of close to Mapi right?” Virginia gestured with her hands, trying to demonstrate the distance.

Nahikari laughed. “if your idea of close is over half a day away. You got a D in geography didn’t you?”

“Hey, just be glad I could find San Sebastian. I can only imagine what a dull day you’d be having if I hadn’t graced you with my presence.” Virginia said.

“You say graced, but I feel cursed.” Nahikari quipped.

Virginia gave her a winning smile and then boldly blew a kiss at her. Nahikari rolled her eyes and ducked back down behind the textbook screen. She managed to read a few more sentences before two curious eyes were peeking over the top of the cover and fingers were tapping against the cover. Tamping down the urge to fidget, Nahikari willed herself to remain still and appear unfazed by the alpha’s sudden proximity. Nahikari read the same sentence several times while silently willing her uninvited guest to leave.

“This looks boring.” Virginia said, and leaned closer, seemingly trying to read the book upside down.

Careful to keep their eye contact to a minimum since that fuzzy feeling was still bouncing around in her head from earlier, Nahikari frowned up at Virginia and then refocused on the words before her. Friends or not, this was a precarious position to be in. Especially considering their earlier hiccup. Not for the first time, Nahikari couldn’t help but wonder if Virginia liked to make people uncomfortable on purpose or if she was just oblivious. 

“You just think its boring because you’re not interested in medicine.” Nahikari deflected. Truth be told, this textbook was rather dry.

“That’s your third serial killer trait, an affinity for blood.” Virginia stated very seriously.

Forgetting herself and the ruse of the respectful omega, Nahikari glared up at Virginia who was still balanced precariously over the textbook. “This is why I don’t have a TV. All those true crime shows rot your brain.”

“Says the girl,” Virginia tipped forward a bit more and leaned into Nahikari’s space to read the chapter title upside down, “learning how to inflict soft tissue injuries.”

A tad too close for comfort, Nahikari growled softly and pushed the book down. With a yelp, Virginia reeled back. The alpha just managed to move away before the heavy textbook smacked her in the face or smashed her fingers.

“Grumpy and rude!” Virginia tsked. 

“Says the girl who just waltzed in uninvited!” Nahikari countered.

For the first time that day, Virginia looked a little cowed. Her easy grin faltered, and she glanced away from Nahikari, running a restless hand through her hair. Snapping her mouth shut, Nahikari looked down at her hands and willed the blush staining her cheeks to die down. She hadn’t meant to be mean.

“I was going to call.” Virginia cleared her throat and settled into an even more slumped position on the stool. “But, I figured what better way to cheer you up than to grace you with my presence!”

Nahikari snorted. “More like vex me with your presence.”

“I’m a treat, just ask Lola.” Virginia said.

With a laugh, Nahikari closed her textbook and slid it to the side of the counter. “Alright, alright, you have my attention.”

“Don’t I always?” Virginia asked, voice gone soft and silky.

Nahikari gave Virginia her best unimpressed eyebrow raise and reached for the textbook. With a laugh, Virginia laid a hand on top of Nahikari’s thigh. The alpha was almost as confident as she was irritating.

“No, no! I’ll be good. Promise!” Virginia pleaded.

“That’s a lie.” Nahikari deadpanned. 

After a beat, they both had a good laugh and the awkward tension dissipated, mostly.

“How’s your ankle, seriously?” Virginia questioned.

With a shrug, Nahikari turned toward Virginia. “It hurts, and this rehab is taking forever.”

“Have they been able to figure out what’s wrong?”

“Yeah, I’ve strained and pulled a number of ligaments. Everything is too loosey-goosey and when I try to do something precise or high level everything rolls out of place and pulls further. Hurts like a bitch, and the worst part is I have to keep walking on it but in controlled settings, hence the boot.” Nahikari explained.

“Loosey-goosey?” Virginia smiled. “What a high level medical term.”

“Don’t want to fry the monkey with cymbals in your brain with my fifty dollar words.”

Virginia barked a laugh and flashed her teeth in jest. Despite what was usually an aggressive behavior, Virginia’s scent remained subtle and relaxed. They were just two friends having some fun, and maybe dancing a little too close to the line every now and then.

“Smartass.” Virginia laughed. “At least you didn’t have to have surgery.”

Grumbling, Nahikari brushed Virginia’s hand from her thigh, the alpha’s fingers creeping higher with each passing second. 

“Honestly, it would have been better if I had torn something. That way they could go in and sew everything back together. The recovery time for something like that is a lot shorter than what I’ve somehow managed to do to myself.” Nahikari lamented. 

Virginia’s hand was back, but this time, it was brushing against Nahikari’s cheek. A wayward curl had slipped free of her bun and Virginia carefully tucked it behind her ear.

“Don’t say that.” Virginia whispered. “It’ll heal, and you’ll be back on the field in no time.”

Once again flustered, Nahikari shied away from Virginia’s hand and glanced out the balcony door. The rain was still steadily falling, but when had that ever stopped her?

“Do you want to go get coffee?” Nahikari asked suddenly.

 

———

 

She only slipped once or twice on the wet cobblestones. The walking boot really made mundane tasks difficult. Whoever designed the stupid thing needed to revise it. Or maybe she could redesign it once she finished her degree and had some hands on experience? A thought to be filed away and explored later.

While she had been slipping and sliding, Virginia had grumbled and grouched the whole way to the coffee shop. Honestly, her bitching had started before they even left the apartment. It wasn’t Nahikari’s fault she had curly hair with a mind of its own! People never believed her when she said it took time to arrange it into something not disastrous.

After some taming, cajoling, and growling, they managed to make it to what Nahikari considered to be the best coffee shop in Donostia. Of course, Virginia thought otherwise.

“Where is everybody?” Virginia asked as the walked through the door to the nearly empty shop.

With a determined limp, Nahikari made her way over to her preferred window seat. Virginia trailed her, somewhat unwilling.

“Its Sunday, everyone is visiting family.” Nahikari explained.

Virginia did a three sixty spin and frowned. “Yeah, but still.”

“Hush.” Nahikari tossed her jacket over a chair and gestured for Virginia to sit down in the other one. “Sit and caffeinate.”

With a dramatic sigh, Virginia plopped down in the chair and sprawled across the table. Nahikari rolled her eyes and situated herself on the window seat. She should elevate her ankle, but extending her leg hurt more than bearing weight on it. Psyching herself up with promises of cinnamon sugar sprinkled over her cappuccino, she carefully laid her leg out along the window seat.

A warm hand found her knee, and Nahikari did her best to ignore Virginia’s concerned expression. Luckily, she was saved by the cafe owner and gladly gave him her full attention. They exchanged pleasantries in Basque and Nahikari placed their order. As the cafe owner shuffled away, Virginia frowned and watched him retreat with a forlorn expression.

“I know everyone is still riding high on that Copa De La Reina win, but my money is just as green as yours.” Virginia whined.

Nahikari laughed. “I ordered for both of us, but it would be best if you kept the whole Atletico thing quiet. For your safety of course.”

The hand on Nahikari’s knee climbed a little higher and Virginia sported her signature smirk. 

“You know my coffee order?” Virginia drawled. 

With painfully practiced disinterest, Nahikari brushed the alpha’s hand away and sighed. “Yep, just like I know Mariona’s, Alexia’s, Jeni’s-“

“Alright, alright.” Virginia interrupted. “No need to name the whole team.”

With a cheeky grin, Nahikari settled into her spot next to the window and glanced out up at the mountains. No break in the clouds greeted her, sadly. Ever afraid of missing out, Virginia leaned over the table and tried to follow Nahikari’s line of sight. Determined not to give the alpha what she wanted, Nahikari watched her out of the corner of her eye and waited.

After a tortuous three seconds, Virginia cracked and asked, “What are we looking at?”

“The mountains and the rain.” Nahikari replied.

“Oh, boring.” Virginia slumped back into her chair. “Thought you may have spotted another human being. Would have been excited to learn we’re not the only people in San Sebastian.”

“I’m sorry we lack the crowds and lines Madrid is famous for.”

“You’ll have to work harder to earn my forgiveness.” Virginia stated very seriously.

Nahikari rolled her eyes and let her head thump back against the window dramatically. It earned the response she had been hoping for when a quiet laugh danced across the small table. The cafe owner reappeared then, Nahikari’s promised cinnamon sugar reward piping hot. In a surprising turn of events, Virginia kindly thanked the cafe owner and even made some small talk.  

When they were alone again, Virginia looked away from her steaming mug and quietly asked, “How do I say thank you in Basque?”

Pleasantly surprised, Nahikari said the phrase slowly in Basque and waited for Virginia to repeat it. The alpha’s accent was terrible and it took several tries before she managed something passable. They had a good laugh over it, Virginia complaining that she was a tough teacher.

As they enjoyed their drinks, they chatted about everything and nothing. Nahikari finally got a more detailed description of Virginia’s injury and how her rehab was going, though it was like pulling teeth. That dark feeling from the friendly rose within her when Virginia recounted being in pain the first few weeks of physical therapy. Trying and failing to shake the gloomy cloud off, Nahikari drained her mug with a force that was not necessary for coffee.

Seemingly sensing the empty mug, the cafe owner reappeared with their free refills, and Virginia’s face lit up. The happy expression, coupled with the caffeine, cinnamon, and sugar helped ease some of the tension in Nahikari’s chest. Virginia even clumsily thanked the cafe owner in Basque.

He smiled politely, slowly replied in Basque, and then turned to Nahikari and informed her the alpha’s accent was terrible and needed considerable work. She just barely managed to not spit her mouthful of coffee out and choked it down, silent laughter shaking her chest. Frowning, Virginia glanced between them as they joked in Basque. Composure regained, Nahikari lamented Virginia’s terrible accent and promised the cafe owner she’d have her work on it. The cafe owner put on his best serious face and warned them with a wagging finger that either the alpha shaped up or their free refills would be cut off.

Unable to suppress her giggles any longer, Nahikari put her mug down and laughed as she begged for a second chance. The cafe owner smiled and waved her away as he retreated back behind the counter. Poor Virginia watched the whole interaction with a quickly deepening frown.

“Oh come on,” Virginia whined, “my attempt couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You’d better shape up and stop jeopardizing our free refills.” 

“How do you say you’re a shitty teacher in Basque?” Virginia asked innocently.

Nahikari flipped her off and took another sip of her coffee.

 

Notes:

Sorry for the delay with this update. Had a few things come up and got a little distracted hashing out some Lucy and Keira content. Hopefully will be back with a new chapter sooner than later!

Chapter 12: Keira Walsh 1

Summary:

Another little side story.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Light was barely peaking through the blinds, yet, Keira was already alone in bed. The shift in the mattress had awoken her, like it did most mornings. The shift was always followed by a wash of cold air against her bare back as the presence behind her rose and slipped away. Despite the burning ache in her chest and behind her eyes, Keira pretended to sleep.

Her heart thudded in tandem with the bare feet tapping against her apartment’s laminate floors. The beginning of a sad smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as a muffled swear and the squeak of furniture being disturbed echoed down the hall. Fabric rustled as discarded clothes were collected and hastily put on.

Keira choked back the ache climbing from her chest to her throat, and pressed her face into the pillow beside her head. The alpha’s scent smothered her, but it was never enough to distract her from the apartment door opening and closing softly.

This was their M.O. 

National team camps. Breaks in club schedule. The time and place didn’t matter. The routine was always the same.

The majority of their time would be spent stoking the simmering fire between them. By now, they knew how to rile each other up.

Heavy glances and eyes that lingered a second too long. A wandering hand, followed by a smirk, and if it had been a while, a wink too. A lip bite. Voice dropped an octave too low. A flash of teeth or hair loose and down, neck covered.

Logs on the fire. Fans feeding the flames. Sparks swirling and rising with the smoke.

They’d gotten good at excuses. At being able to weasel their way out of engagements so they could slip away together and eventually stumble through Keira’s door. Whether it was her apartment or her hotel room, it was always Keira’s space. It was almost like her fuck buddy wasn’t satisfied with just having her, the alpha had to have her space too. Had to leave a shirt on the couch, shoes by the door, pants in the hall, all consuming scent on Keira’s sheets and pillows.

Nothing permanent, but enough of a presence that it lingered. It took at least three washes before the alpha’s scent came out of the sheets and pillow. Sometimes longer, especially if she was in rut or if they hadn’t “seen” each other in a while.

Plus, there were the sharp nips to Keira’s collarbones. The shadows of finger prints along her hips. Bruises sucked onto her inner thighs. Little marks, but against her fair skin, they stood out. Lingering claims, like the alpha’s scent and discarded clothes.

Though, like her scent, the marks could be hidden and eventually, washed away.

Unlike past hookups, this alpha never ducked out right after. Sure, she didn’t stick around in the morning, but she at least would spend the night. An arm heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction would wrap around Keira’s waist. Locked against a still panting chest, Keira would squirm, knowing that putting up a fight got a rise out of the alpha, and a growl would pierce the dark room.

Shivering, especially if she was in heat, Keira would still within the tight embrace, settling back against the warm, solid presence behind her. Once she stilled, lips would trail from her shoulder, to the base of her neck. If Keira was lucky, she’d get a few light kisses up the column of her throat and a nose nudging behind her ear. 

Sometimes, she’d continue to squirm, toss a hand behind her and tangle it into the alpha’s hair. She’d give a sharp tug and a snarl would vibrate through her back, the sound rattling her bones and making her chest constrict. Rough hands would grab her wayward fingers, her hip, and push her onto her stomach. A knee planted on her thigh and hands pinning her wrists down against the mattress would keep her from wriggling free.

A weight would then drape across her back, pushing her prone form into the mattress, and lips would brush against the shell of her ear. Snarled threats and promises would make her thrash, and she’d spit back a retort or two, though they were muffled into the sheets. Teeth would press into the straining tendons of her neck, and a rare smile would follow. The rough grip wrapped around her wrists would relax, just a fraction, and the alpha above her would still for the briefest of seconds. Keira usually sighed, let her body go limp, and would whisper a desperate plea.

On those nights, they’d go a few more rounds, teeth tugging at her earlobe and fingers coaxing sounds from deep within her chest. They’d laugh as their kisses turned sloppy and alarm clocks and phones went flying off nightstands as they wrestled for control. The sheets would twist around their ankles, pinning them both in place, and they would eventually fall back into the same position as before, Keira clutched tightly against a panting chest.

Sleep would soon wash over them, even though Keira would fight to keep her heavy eyes open. She always needed a few more minutes to enjoy the presence behind her. Long breaths pulling the alpha’s scent deep into her lungs. A tentative hand trailing up and down the arm wrapped tightly around her waist. If it had been a while, and she was feeling particularly bold, Keira would lace their fingers together. It was always after the alpha was soundly asleep of course, and then, Keira would drift off.

Once, she had miscalculated the steady, even breaths behind her, and tangled their fingers together too soon. Teeth had nipped sharply against the back of her neck, making her still, breath frozen in her lungs. Terrified of being rebuked further, of the alpha chewing her out and leaving early, Keira had waited, lip caught between her teeth and eyes closed. Nothing followed the sharp scrape of bared canines against the back of her neck, however, and the hand within her’s didn’t pull away. Relieved, Keira had dozed off, satisfied with her small victory.

Morning would come, dragging an all too familiar ache from Keira’s chest to the back of her eyes. The bed would shift, and the alpha behind her would slip away. She’d pretend to sleep, bidding her time until she could muffle a scream of frustration into her pillow as the door to her hotel room or apartment clicked closed. Tears usually followed, though the first few months they didn’t make an appearance.

Going back to sleep once the discarded clothes had been collected, and the door had firmly shut, was never an option. Keira had found, right around the time the tears had started making an appearance, that she slept fitfully with the alpha’s scent surrounding her, but no arm wrapped tightly across her waist. Instead of tossing and turning, she’d force some steel into her spine and get ready for the day.

Some days, in a fit of rage, Keira would toss the pillow the alpha had used across the room. It was like she was a toddler all over again, throwing a tantrum because she couldn’t get her way. The only thing serious about this arrangement was how they kept it quiet, and Keira knew that.

However, this fact never helped ease the ache in her chest or stop the tears from flowing.

This was their M.O.

So, why was Keira doing the unthinkable this morning, and tossing the covers back so she could catch Lucy before the alpha made it to the elevators?

Notes:

Have had this sitting in my drafts for a while. Figured a little something was better than nothing while I work on the new Lindsey chapter.

Chapter 13: Lindsey Horan 3

Summary:

Introducing some new characters who will quickly become very important to our chapter header character's story lines.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They still weren’t speaking to each other.

Granted, neither had tried to apologize yet. Over a week had passed since their fallout, and tensions were running high. Pre-season practice was awkward and choppy. The coaches kept flip flopping between forcing them to work together in the hopes they’d figure their shit out, and keeping them as far apart as possible. Neither plan was working, and only stoked their frustrations with each other.

Was Lindsey a bitch for saying the things she said? Yes.

Was it Caitlin’s own fault for putting herself in that situation? Yes.

Was Lindsey a shit friend for not standing up for Caitlin when Colin was being an ass? Yes.

Was Caitlin being too pushy and suffocating her? Yes.

The score was tied and Lindsey refused to be the one to back down and admit defeat. If Caitlin wanted an apology from her, she needed to woman up and apologize for hovering and driving Lindsey bananas. It was only fair!

For once, the team was keeping their noses out of the mess, and Lindsey wasn’t about to question how she’d gotten so lucky. Fighting with Caitlin was exhausting, but fighting with Caitlin while Emily, Hayley, and Tobin tried to referee was like a full-time job. She knew her friends meant well, but right now she wanted to be petty and stew in her frustration with the Australian alpha.

While the standoff wasn’t doing much for Lindsey’s mental health, it was doing wonders for her game. She channelled all her anger into her shots on goal, sending screamers rocketing past AD and the new kids brought in to back her up. They were absolutely fed up with Lindsey, as was Menges who had unfortunately been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The defender had taken a deflection right off her face. The trainers still insisted on her sitting out, despite clearing concussion protocols two days ago. Lindsey’s goals were burning holes through the net and the keepers’ gloves, it was a miracle Menges hadn’t been knocked out cold.

Maybe Caitlin would woman up if given a break and some time to think over her actions?

At least, that’s what Lindsey kept telling herself. Despite the ball to the face, Menges had forgiven Lindsey after one day! The free lunch probably helped, but Lindsey wasn’t about to go out of her way for Caitlin just yet.

The national team was hosting a quick friendly out in LA, and Lindsey was expecting one hell of an apology when she got back to Portland. She had already decided she’d close the door in Caitlin’s face if the alpha didn’t muster up a tear or two of regret.

———

LA in April was a pleasant break from the chilly overcast skies of Portland. Everything was sun drenched and warm, without it being stifling or hazy. Despite a packed schedule, everyone was hoping they’d get a chance to wander down to the water. So many of the NWSL teams were landlocked, and the girls weren’t about to pass up an opportunity to go to the beach.

Of course, the coaching staff had other ideas, but they were known to turn a blind eye now and then. Especially when the team they were hosting for the friendly wasn’t much of a threat.

Lindsey, Emily, and Tobin were one of the first groups to arrive at the hotel in LA. Like most hotels, the place they were staying was bright, clean, and nondescript. They loitered in the lobby while they waited for everyone else, half awake as the training staff got everything setup. As the team began to arrive, the jet lag quickly wore off.

It was the first camp of the year, so everyone had lots to share and lots of questions to ask. Lindsey’s ribs were sore by the third hug, and her ears were ringing long before Allie Long arrived and started chattering away. Phones were passed around, pictures scrolled through, and laughs exchanged as mishaps at preseason and personal training sessions were recounted. It was exactly what Lindsey needed, a break from the Thorns and a chance to catch up with her friends.

“Okay, everybody listen up!” One of the technical directors was waving a clipboard and trying to drown out Rose’s excited squeals. “I’ve got your room assignments for the next four days.”

The team’s chatter cut off and all eyes turned toward the technical director. The man fidgeted for a minute, seeming to steal himself, and Lindsey couldn’t help but narrow her eyes. Something was off, but what?

“Everyone has a roommate for this camp…”

Whoop, there it is, Lindsey couldn’t help but think as a collective groan went up from the team and Allie made some snide comment about the men never having to share. The poor technical director, clearly too low on the food chain to have a say in this decision, cleared his throat and tried to speak over the grumbling.

“Ladies, let’s approach this like any other team building activity, okay? We’re here to start the season on the right foot. Room assignments are as follows, Harris and Lavelle, Krieger and Pugh, Sauerbrunn and Campbell, Sonnet and Lloyd…”

Lindsey tried and failed to cover up her surprise as Emily froze next to her and frowned. A sharp elbow to Lindsey’s side from Tobin only made it harder to keep a straight face. Eyes wide and pleading, Emily tried to beg silently for help as she quickly picked up her bags.

Carli was already barreling to the front of the lobby, sending Allie sideways as she passed. With a good natured shove and a shit eating grin, Lindsey pushed Emily forward. The younger alpha trudged solemnly in Carli’s wake, head down and shoulder’s tight with tension.

The technical director continued to drone on throughout the exchange, and Lindsey tuned back in when she heard her name. “Horan and Naeher…”

Lindsey couldn’t help but smile in relief as she collected her things and walked over to the elevators. Alyssa was arguably the nicest person on the team, and by far the quietest. While they’d never shared in the past, Lindsey wasn’t concerned. Poor Emily had definitely pulled the short straw on room assignments this camp.

“Which bed do you want?” Alyssa asked quietly when they got to the room.

Lindsey shrugged and threw her stuff on the first bed. “Window side work okay for you?”

Alyssa nodded and tossed the newspaper she’d been carrying onto the second bed. The room was small, but they’d only be here for four days, so it didn’t really matter. Over Alyssa’s shoulder, outside the window, Lindsey could see the city’s traffic at a standstill.

“Bets on how long it’ll take before Emily is pounding on our door begging to sleep on our floor?” Lindsey questioned.

Ever the peacemaker, Alyssa tried to sell her some bullshit story about how Carli wasn’t that bad of a roommate. Lindsey just crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“No bet on the begging.” Alyssa stated once she’d given up on her tale. “My money is on Sonnet quitting soccer altogether and running home to Georgia before the night is over.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Lindsey threw her head back and laughed. Yep, this break with the national team was exactly what she needed.

“No wonder Emily likes playing in front of you so much, Alyssa. You’re hilarious!” Lindsey said, still smiling.

Alyssa just ducked her head and went back to unpacking, a blush sitting high on her cheeks.

———

The next morning arrived far too quickly. Breakfast was a quiet affair, as everyone was still half asleep. Emily was alive and kicking, though she was doing her best to hide in Kelly’s side. Lindsey couldn’t help but roll her eyes over her coffee cup. She wouldn’t be seeing much of the alpha this camp. Whenever Kelly was around, Emily was always one step behind the omega.

In the past, Lindsey had teased Emily on her habit of trailing Kelly like a lost puppy. The crush had been funny and innocent at first, the usual, alpha sees omega and then sees nothing else. Emily would blush and bemoan Lindsey’s heckling, then get distracted from giving Lindsey a hard time when Kelly walked into the room. It was hilarious, and very schoolyard approved.

When Kelly started encouraging the crush, and circled back a time or two after the first hookup, both Emily and Lindsey were surprised. Now, it was an unspoken rule that Kelly and Emily spent almost ever moment of each camp together.

Of course, those moments together where carefully curated. No public displays of affection, limited and edited pictures, and absolutely no discussion of what the next step could look like. It was like Emily had two lives. One in Portland where she was loud and open, and one at camp, where she was a shadow of herself.

It concerned Lindsey, how Kelly could transform Emily into this skittish girl always glancing over her shoulder. Not to mention that Emily usually spent the few days immediately following camp in a funk. It was like she had to recalibrate herself to life back in Portland, and each time, the process was more difficult.

Like any dutiful best friend, Lindsey had attempted to discuss what she dubbed the “Kelly Effect” with Emily. Ask anyone who remotely knew Lindsey, and they’d tell you tact wasn’t one of her strong suits. Honestly, it wasn’t even in her arsenal to begin with. So of course every conversation she tried to have with Emily either ended in a fight or some weird reversal and discussion of Lindsey’s own fucked up relationships.

But, as Lindsey reminded herself, this camp was going to be different, because this camp was a break. A well earned vacation before the season hit full swing. The beach was calling to her tan lines and the team they were playing was going to be a breeze. With the exception of one pesky player, but Lindsey would take what she could get.

Once they managed to drag themselves through breakfast, training commenced with more coffee and a team meeting in one of the hotel’s conference rooms. Everyone did their best to shuffle over slowly, even the veterans were dragging their feet. Friendly trips always opened with a meeting to discuss the opponents, and the captains were invited to provide their opinions of the opposing teams.

While Becky always kept it short and sweet, Carli was known for dragging these meetings on. All anyone wanted to do was play, and as the coffee started to take effect, it was hard to sit still and give the front of the room your full attention.

As the team meandered to the conference room, Allie picked up her complaints from the previous day regarding the room sharing. Lindsey tried to ignore her. No matter how much they bitched, the situation wasn’t going to change for this friendly.

A screen had been setup on one side of the conference room, and rows of chair were lined up before it. Lindsey couldn’t help but scowl at Sam, who was sitting front and center. Ever the kiss ass, Sam shrugged, but her ears did turn a bright pink. Kelly dragged Emily to the back, and Lindsey found a seat in the middle with Tobin and Christen.

As the rest of the team and staff filtered in, Carli marched to the front of the room and stood with her arms crossed before the projector screen. A few seats away, Ashlyn groaned and Ali swatted her arm. Lindsey smiled and then stuck her tongue out when Tobin gave her a disapproving look.

“Alright everyone, quiet!” Carli barked, eyes narrowed in a glare as Allie grumbled about being interrupted.

Becky took a seat on the edge of the table the coaches and technical staff were using for their laptops and papers. Seemingly at ease with Carli taking the lead, Becky focused her attention on blowing carefully on her cup of coffee. Someone turned on the projector, causing Carli to stumble off to the side with Becky, a hand rubbing at her eyes. Lindsey bit her lip hard as Tobin elbowed her. In front of her, Alyssa’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, which only made Lindsey drive her teeth into her lip harder.

“Right.” Carli grumped and resumed her stance to the side of the screen. “We’re here for four days, two of which will be dedicated to training and the other two to games and recovery.”

Behind Becky, the coaches and staff exchanged a few exasperated glances. Reviewing the schedule and introducing the opposing team was their job, but no one was going to tell Carli to back off. The alpha continued, discussing the meal and training times. A brave technical director, definitely someone new, managed to get a few words in regarding the game times, but Carli quickly took control of the meeting again.

“The team we’re preparing for and will be playing is Costa Rica.” Carli glanced to her left as a team picture of the Costa Rican women’s national team popped up.

As the picture took over the screen, Ashlyn threw a suggestive smirk and eyebrow wiggle over her shoulder at them. Beside her, Tobin tensed, lean body pulling taunt. Lindsey glared at the keeper and leaned into Tobin, resting her head on the alpha’s shoulder. Ali pulled Ashlyn’s attention forward again with a well aimed swat, and Carli glared at them all.

While it had been a few years, this particular wound was always raw for Tobin. They were best friends, but Lindsey still didn’t know all the details. Paris had been a rollercoaster, mostly for Lindsey, but near the end, Paris had taken Tobin for a ride too.

Lindsey tried to bring her friend some comfort with her presence and scent, though she’d never been very good at putting people at ease. That was Tobin’s job, and when the roles were reversed, Lindsey always felt like she was trying to catch rain with a colander. The effort was there, but she didn’t have the right tools for the job.

Gently, Tobin leaned her head against Lindsey’s, and she couldn’t help be a little smug. That is, until she realized Christen was holding Tobin’s hand, their fingers laced together. Figures. Whatever, Lindsey was going to take credit for saving the day, Christen wouldn’t mind.

Just above Sam’s head, a familiar smiling face caught Lindsey’s attention as she blocked out Carli’s rambling. While she was sympathetic to Tobin’s discomfort, she couldn’t help but smile just a little. Funny how someone could be such a positive force for one person and then be a sore subject for another.

Carli paused, and Lindsey tuned back in only to be disappointed. The alpha started up again, “We’ve never lost a game to Costa Rica-”

“Unlike the men’s team.” Allie interrupted.

Carli growled low in her throat and continued. “But that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down for either game. Costa Rica is fielding a young new team this year, while maintaining a few key veterans.”

The slide changed to show Costa Rica’s game results from the previous year. The numbers weren’t pretty, mostly loses and draws, even against low level teams.

Carli’s voiceover dragged on. “As you can see, Costa Rica has been struggling. However, they did beat Mexico in a penalty shootout and drew with Brazil.”

“Did Marta and the rest of the Brazilians not show up to the game?” Allie laughed, but no one joined in on the joke.

“Those results were thanks to a very specific lineup and tactical approach, one we’re anticipating the Costa Ricans will use in the first game against us.” Carli clipped out.

The slideshow flipped through arial screenshots of Costa Rica’s formations from previous games, and highlights of the new players as Carli droned on. Lindsey kept her attention focused on Tobin, the alpha still stiff and jaw clenched. She’d suddenly gone back to sitting up straight in her chair, and Lindsey was forced to erase the point awarded on her mental scorecard.

Unlike most alphas, Tobin was easy going, even when provoked. Her scent was usually just as calm and lazy, but now it stung. Newly cut grass being buried by wet wood failing to light. Acrid and sitting heavy on Lindsey’s tongue.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of Carli, the coaching staff stood up and began to discuss their approach to the training and two games. Here, Lindsey offered her full attention, as she, like everyone else in the room, wanted to know where they fit in the plan. She kept her head on Tobin’s shoulder, however. There was no need to look as eager as Sam up front, who was leaning forward in her chair.

The coaches explained they would be fielding the veteran players the first game, minimal substitutions to ensure everyone got as many minutes as possible. For the second game, the newer faces would be getting the start. A low level team was a great opportunity for everyone to find their sea legs, and Lindsey was happy the younger girls would be getting some minutes. Well, they weren’t that much younger, but Lindsey had been with the team so long she felt much older.

The name of the game this camp was shaking off the rust. Carli had been right, the team had only ever won against Costa Rica, not even a draw in their history. It was almost unfair how unevenly matched the two teams were.

The Costa Rican’s, like most South American teams, played a physical yet creative game. They’d sit deep and try to absorb as much pressure as possible while carefully choosing the moments they moved forward. Scrappy plays and fouls were to be expected, especially as the game progressed.

Despite the divide between the two teams, the games would be somewhat interesting. The veteran Costa Rican players weren’t pushovers and Lindsey was looking forward to cutting loose. She’d been trying, and mostly failing, to play it safe with the Thorns. Hopefully Costa Rica wouldn’t pull a Sweden and sit on their heels the whole game. She was itching for a fight.

When the presentation moved onto the “Who to Watch Out For” segment, Carli stepped back up and Lindsey was pulled from her musings. Chairs squeaked as everyone shifted their weight and settled back in. With a long suffering sigh, Lindsey slumped against Tobin and was rewarded with a subtle shoulder twitch. The scoreboard in Lindsey’s head lit up again.

“Right, player breakdown.” Carli nodded to whoever was controlling the slideshow and individual player pictures appeared, along with the player’s stats. “Costa Rica is a team made up mostly of omegas and betas.”

“Care to elaborate on the statement you’re making?” Kelly chirped from behind Lindsey.

She liked to think she was brave, but when Carli settled her gaze in their direction, Lindsey tucked herself just a little closer to Tobin. Just a little.

“The point I’m trying to make is they’re not going to field a starting eleven of amped up alphas like Germany. It changes how we approach the game, and statistically speaking, it does work to our advantage.”

Lindsey could hear Kelly rolling her eyes. Not for the first time, Lindsey wished she had the same self confidence Kelly had that enabled her to take on the likes of Carli. Being an omega didn’t mean you were automatically at a disadvantage, but you try explaining that to an alpha with a superiority complex.

Next to Carli, Becky continued to sip her coffee, legs swinging idly as she watched the room over the rim of her cup. Carli worked through the usual suspects, senior players Lindsey vaguely recognized from past games. As the alpha moved onto the new Costa Rican midfielder, the tip of a shoe began poking Lindsey in the back, completely distracting her from whatever Carli was saying.

Without turning around, Lindsey waved her hand behind her back, trying and failing to catch Emily's foot. The game continued as Lindsey flailed, with Kelly joining in every now and then. Finally, after several minutes of being pestered, Lindsey turned and flashed her teeth at Emily and Kelly. When she spun back around, Carli was glaring right at her, eyes narrowed.

As Emily snickered, Lindsey bit her tongue and leaned her head back onto Tobin’s shoulder. She had never been religious, but in that moment she beseeched whoever was listening to open the floor underneath her and Tobin’s chair so they could disappear. Tobin was coming along for the ride because she was way better at praying, and Lindsey had a thing about dark spaces.

Ever the example of excellent friendship, Tobin patted Lindsey’s hand and let her hide. She also cooly returned Carli’s disapproving gaze.

“As I was saying,” Carli began, with one more pointed glare, “despite this player’s age, we need to keep an eye on her. She’s currently second in goals scored for Costa Rica.”

Lindsey refocused on the screen, a picture of a girl about her age grinning back. She had a mass of dark curly hair and was smiling so hard the skin around her eyes was crinkled. The image changed and Lindsey felt Tobin hold her breath.

The chair behind Lindsey creaked, and without looking up from her coffee, Becky clipped out a reprimand. “Sonnett.”

Behind her, Lindsey could hear the rustle of Emily’s training gear as the alpha slid down in her seat. Without turning around, Lindsey knew Emily was practically sitting on the floor and beet red. The alpha’s scent was mortified, sweet notes curdled and pulsing with shame. Emily worshiped the ground Becky walked upon, and would be kicking herself for the next month.

Exasperated, Carli gestured to the screen and the picture of the woman upon it. Tobin had begun to breathe again, but she was still sitting ramrod straight in her chair. Usually, the alpha sprawled across furniture, always at ease wherever she was. However, this wound was sore and festering, causing pain every time it was touched.

Trying and failing to help, Lindsey pressed closer to Tobin. How the alpha hadn’t been pushed out of her chair yet was a miracle. Lindsey wasn’t exactly bird boned like Rose.

The picture on the projector screen smiled out at them, oblivious of the turmoil it was causing. It was an infectious sort of happiness, the kind of smile that coaxed one out of you too. While Tobin would always be one of her best friends, Lindsey couldn’t help but smile back at the picture.

“Shirley Cruz,” Carli announced, “is the captain of the Costa Rican women’s national team and is-”

“Ancient.” Allie interrupted snidely.

“Enough!” Carli snarled in response.

Unperturbed, Allie just crossed her arms and glanced subtly over at Tobin, who was gazing stonily ahead. Lindsey knew Allie was trying to help in her own way, but being petty wasn’t going to break the tension. Sure, pushing Tobin out of her chair probably wasn’t helping either, but Lindsey was sticking to her plan. She also took a play out of Christen’s book and held Tobin’s other hand.

“As Allie so helpfully pointed out, Shirley Cruz has been in the game a long time, and she’s actually not much older than Allie.” A calm voice said.

Becky had put her coffee cup down and was now standing. She nodded at Carli and the alpha reluctantly traded places with her.

“Before I bore you all with memories from days gone by,” Becky smiled cooly at Allie, but Lindsey and the rest of the team understood the unspoken line being drawn, “I’d like to open the floor to a player who has more recent experience playing against and alongside Shirley. Lindsey?”

Surprised, Lindsey sat up and almost clipped Tobin’s chin with her head. “Uh, right. Shirley.”

“We know her name.” Ashlyn laughed.

Scowling, Lindsey felt the retort building on the tip of her tongue, but Becky made eye contact with her and the words fell away. Regaining her composure, Lindsey cleared her throat and started again.

“Shirley likes to sit deep and be the playmaker. That being said, she’ll dart her way to the top and put the ball away if given the chance. She’s quick and clever, very creative on the ball even when you don’t give her the space.”

“Weaknesses we can exploit?” Becky prompted.

Lindsey thought for a moment. “Shirley’s small. If you can get next to her, you could bully her off the ball, but only if you time it right.”

Here, Lindsey pauses as a fond memory surfaces.

She’s in long sleeve training gear, the field wet with a recent shower. They’re running one on one drills and she’s been tasked with getting past Shirley. Having the size and weight advantage, Lindsey goes for the simple blitz. Knock Shirley off her feet and run right over her. Simple!

The Paris fog blankets the early morning field, slightly obscuring Lindsey getting her ass handed to her. She makes contact with Shirley, throwing the smaller women back a step, but when she tries to move forward, Shirley pounces. The Costa Rican hits her with all the fury of a Colorado blizzard, elbow driven deep into her side. Stumbling, Lindsey fights to keep her feet as Shirley steers them toward goal, elbow still buried in her ribs.

Possession has always been the key to Lindsey’s game. She dictates play and bulls through anyone in her way. Except, it seems, this pint sized Costa Rican. Shirley’s quick feet keep poking the ball away, and while Lindsey manages to win it back, she’s too focused on keeping her balance to break forward. Just when she finds her footing and throws her weight back into the play, Shirley is spinning away.

Counterbalance gone, Lindsey teeters and tries to fight her momentum. Those clever feet are back and manage to strip the ball while making minimal contact. Once she has possession, Shirley drives back into Lindsey, elbow finding her ribs again. Lindsey falls, hard, and watches with her cheek against the wet grass as Shirley buries the ball into the top far corner of the goal.

It’s then, ribs burning and ass soaking wet, that Lindsey realizes she’s in over her head.

“Anything else?” Becky prompted again.

Spell broken, Lindsey nods and licks her dry lips. “Yes, don’t let her size fool you. If you step up to Shirley, be prepared for her to bite you back, hard.”

“That’s an understatement.” Allie mumbled mostly to her self.

Lindsey’s not sure anyone else has heard until Tobin says quietly, “Can we please focus on preparing for the games? These comments aren’t going to help us win.”

The room seems to hold its breath.

Tobin is always so easy going, that they forget she’s got her limits. Plus, Lindsey’s pretty sure with the exception of herself and Christen, that no one really understands just how much this wound hurts Tobin still. Going for another goal, Lindsey lays her head back on Tobin’s shoulder. This time, the alpha rests her head atop Lindsey’s and leaves it there.

The mental scoreboard lights up again.

Is Lindsey working extra hard to prop up Tobin because she fucked up so epically with Caitlin? The world may never know.

Becky nods and takes over. “Thank you Lindsey. As stated earlier, Shirley’s been in the game a long time, and you don’t get to hang around if you’re not one of the best in the world. Despite her size, she hits like a freight train, just as Lindsey alluded to. Also, she always seems to keep her feet, no matter how you try to stop her run.”

“Bet she’s got a few brothers.” Allie mused, finally adding something helpful to this discussion.

Never satisfied until she has the last word, Carli steps forward again. “Shirley also has a history of knee issues and one hell of a temper.”

At the mention of injuries, Lindsey feels rather than hears the growl in Tobin’s chest. Regardless of what went down, and the dirty details Lindsey isn’t privy to, Tobin still cares. It breaks Lindsey’s heart a little, and she can’t help but wonder if she’d ever feel the same about an ex?

The comment about the knee injuries also doesn’t sit right with Lindsey. She understands it’s part of the prep, learning the opposing players inside and out, but Shirley’s not just some face and name on a screen. Despite wearing different crests, and everything else that went down, Shirley’s a former teammate and friend. She’ll always be a bright smile breaking through the Paris fog to Lindsey.

Carli continued, “Past experiences have shown if you hit Shirley right or pester her enough, she’ll start making mistakes. Plus, she’s got to babysit a mostly untested team of kids. Harass the hell out of them, and Shirley will have to come bail them out.”

“Defenders,” the team’s attention returns to Becky, who’s still standing and refusing to give Carli the last word, “please keep in mind that while Shirley prefers to sit deep, she’ll come forward, especially with any sloppy back passes or idle touches. Talent isn’t the only thing that keeps you in this game, but the ability to read it and exploit even the most subtle of mistakes. Shirley’s grown up playing with boys and on the street. That means she’s infuriatingly creative, so don’t let her lure you in. She’ll sit you down quick.”

“So that means you’ll be marking her when she drifts into our third?” Ashlyn asked, and Becky smiled.

“We players of by-gone eras should stick together, only makes sense.” Becky replied.

The team and staff laugh, and the coaches get up to explain the usual “Line ups aren’t set in stone earn your place,” philosophy. Carli is forced to take a seat and Lindsey does a double take at Becky. Is that a smile Becky’s drowning in the dregs of her coffee cup?

The coaches are fairly confident Costa Rica will approach these two games in a similar manner to the US, fielding their more senior players in the first game and the less experienced players in the second game. Lindsey gets the sense there is some unspoken agreement between the two teams. The meeting closes with an ominous reminder that one or two senior players will be held for the second game, to ensure there’s some experience on the field.

Plan in place, the meeting breaks up as everyone grabs their things and heads off to their assignments. Carli catches the coaches and keeps pace with them out of the room, probably trying to talk her way into the starting line up for the first game. Tobin slips out with Christen while Lindsey stays in her seat, contemplating Shirley’s smiling face.

Despite the bright California sunlight filtering in through the blinds, Lindsey can feel the mist of the Paris fog on her cheeks, Tobin’s acrid scent still laying heavy on her tongue.

———

She knows they’ve fucked up the second she sees Shirley the following night. The other woman is warming up with her team, all smiles and quick feet. She involves herself in every drill, and wanders from player to player. There’s a smile for the girl anxiously scanning the rapidly filling seats, some corrections to another player’s footwork, and jokes for a few more senior teammates that are eyeing Alex and Megan.

Like the rest of her team, Shirley is wearing warmup gear, long pants and a zip up jacket with the Costa Rican flag on the chest. It’s the pants that make Lindsey do a double take. Even in Paris during the winter, Shirley played and warmed up in shorts.

“It’s about the movement.” Shirley had explained when Lindsey questioned why the other woman was freezing her ass off for no reason. The morning dew was frozen, giving the field a thin crust that shattered beneath their boots. “Pants…” Here, Shirley had waved her hand, searching for the right word in English.

“Restrict?” Lindsey had supplied, and Shirley had nodded, teeth chattering, and jogged off to regain some feeling in her numb legs.

Watching Shirley now, moving through the warmup drills in navy blue New Balance pants, makes Lindsey pause and consider the game Costa Rica is playing. Not only tonight, but through the rest of the weekend. Perhaps this camp will be interesting after all.

As the warmups continue, Lindsey finds herself gravitating toward the centerline. They’ve broken into pairs, working on a passing drill that leaves her mind numb and wandering. Opposite her, Allie Long approaches the drill with far more concentration, mouth pulled into a frown as she makes contact with the ball.

Lindsey hates these drills. The repetition is supposed to center her, help her focus and find her inner chi or some other bullshit the coaching staff likes to preach about. It probably works well for high strung players who’s nerves get the better of them, but for Lindsey, it just puts her to sleep. Which is a state she desperately wants to avoid right before a game.

Needing something to do, Lindsey starts to take extra touches and adds a bit of flourish to her passes. Allie rolls her eyes, but doesn’t comment. Even with the tricks, Lindsey still can’t fully focus on the task at hand. She finds herself looking past Allie, watching the Costa Ricans warmup.

It’s a young group, lots of fresh faces Lindsey doesn’t recognize from past friendlies and qualifying games. While it’s hard to pick out individual scents in the sold out stadium, Lindsey can parse out that they’re nervous. Their energy is too high, errant passes sliding past intended targets and heads on a swivel, constantly glancing over their shoulders at the Americans across the field.

Drill all but forgotten, Lindsey watches as Shirley tracks down a loose ball. She feints passed an invisible player, makes a quick touch, twists, and cleverly brings the ball up and over so that it lands at her feet as she completes the turn. They make eye contact suddenly, and Shirley winks as she sends the ball back to her teammate.

“It’s all about the movement!” Lindsey shouts across the field, startling Allie and a few of the Costa Rican players.

Shirley laughs as she receives the ball back and copies the flourish Lindsey had added to one of her earlier passes. Smartass, Lindsey can’t help but think, as Shirley grins and yells something back in Spanish. While Lindsey can’t understand her, Shirley’s teammates certainly can, and they work through their next set of drills while laughing.

Before she can think of some clever taunt to throw back across the centerline, Allie all but launches the ball at her. Unprepared, Lindsey falls back on her heels and works to regain control of the ball as it ricochets off her chest. When she finally settles it, she kicks it wide of Allie and forces the other woman to go collect it.

Thoroughly irritated, Allie snaps something that’s lost to the shuffle of the crowd as she stomps off to get the ball. Lindsey waves the comment away, not in the mood to pick a fight. Allie’s always touchy on game days, even more so when she’s not getting the start.

While she waits for Allie to lose her attitude and find the ball, Lindsey lets her gaze wander across the team. Everyone is starting to finish up the last of their drills, the defenders clustering around Becky and Alyssa, the forwards falling into step with Megan. Tobin absently dribbles a ball while an assistant coach tries to discuss a play with her.

Lindsey glances over to the other side of the field, the Costa Rican players still trying to work out the last of their nerves. They’re running short sprints in a series of lines.

“Thanks a lot you idiot.” Allie growled as she suddenly reappeared and closed the distance between them. “Your pass knocked over the water bottle caddies, but I’m the one who had to clean them up.”

Turning to confront Allie, Lindsey misses the sprint drill breaking up behind her and the three players that peel off from the group.

“That’s what you get for being petty and launching the ball at my face.” Lindsey snaps out.

Stepping into her space, Allie shoves the ball into Lindsey’s gut and growls out, “You’re a shit friend.”

The comment doesn’t just hit close to home, it crashes through the ceiling and buries itself right in the middle of the living room. Caitlin’s face, shocked and light eyes welling with tears, flashes through her mind right before Lindsey sees red. Lindsey knows Allie isn’t talking about the Australian, but right now, Lindsey can’t deal with this shit on top of what’s unraveling in Portland.

Snarling, she drops the ball and shoves Allie back a step. Before Allie can fly back at her, a sharp whistle cuts through the air. Allie glances over her shoulder at the US bench and the coaching staff gathering there, but Lindsey knows better. The whistle is a habit Shirley picked up in Paris from another player who fancied herself a referee.

Crossing her arms like a petulant child, Lindsey refuses to turn around. That is, until a ball taps her right between the shoulder blades.

“You little shit.” Lindsey can’t help but laugh as she spins.

The ball has rebounded to Shirley’s feet, and she casually rests a cleat atop it. Flanking her is a senior player Lindsey recognizes from past games and a girl bout Lindsey’s age, her hair pulled back. They regard the Americans cautiously, shoulders brushing against Shirley’s warmup jacket.

Allie steps forward, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as she spits something in Spanish at the Costa Ricans. The young girl’s eyes widen in surprise and then she frowns, about to reply, but Shirley taps the back of her hand against her chest. Horrified by the scene Allie is making, Lindsey tries to shove her back but Shirley is already moving. The senior player makes a grab at the back of her captain’s jacket, but Shirley and her clever feet twist away and around Allie.

“Shirley!” Lindsey manages to squeeze out before the other woman has engulfed her in a hug. It’s funny how someone so small can seem so big when wrapping you up in their arms.

Still spouting off in Spanish, Allie stalks away, back toward the American bench. Lindsey would give her a parting growl, but she’s too distracted by the woman in her arms. Shirley’s just as small as Lindsey remembers, easily picked up and spun in the hug. Her laugh dissolves Lindsey’s bad mood, burning her anger and embarrassment at Allie’s behavior away.

Grinning like a fool, Lindsey lets Shirley go, though the beta’s scent clings to her. It’s cloying in a way that’s reminiscent of an alpha. A mark that takes time to fade. Or, in Tobin’s case, a wound that never heals.

Shirley says something in rapid fire Spanish and Lindsey just stares at her. Smirking, Shirley switches to French, just as quick and incomprehensible.

“You’re such a smartass.” Lindsey growls playfully and Shirley swats at her laughing.

“I said you haven’t changed a bit, still picking fights and daydreaming when you should be practicing.” Shirley’s voice is deep, her English a little slower.

The senior player says something in response to Shirley in Spanish and rolls her eyes when Shirley makes a face.

“You’re one to talk about picking fights.” Lindsey says conspiratorially.

The senior player laughs and points at Lindsey, clearly emphasizing whatever she had said in Spanish earlier. Throwing her hands up in exasperation, Shirley waves them both off and changes the topic.

“How’s preseason at Portland going?”

She must light up when Portland is mentioned, because Shirley smiles like she did when Lindsey finally mastered a complicated play in Paris. The expression moves from her mouth to her eyes, and you know without a doubt she’s genuinely happy for you. It’s one of the things Lindsey likes best about Shirley.

“It’s great! The city is so much fun, and the support is unreal. I think we’ve really got a chance this year, and we haven’t even gotten that Swiss girl yet.”

Shirley laughs and shakes her head. “Swiss girl? Lindsey, Crnogorčević isn’t just some Swiss girl. She’s the leading goal scorer for Switzerland.”

“Okay, how do you know that, because I distinctly remember you goofing off during team meetings in Paris.” Lindsey grumps.

The senior player, who had quickly grown bored of their conversation and toed the ball away from Shirley’s feet, laughed as she juggled. She said something in Spanish that made Shirley wave her hand again.

“She’s agreeing with me, isn’t she?” Lindsey can’t help but goad.

Shirley sidesteps the comment like she does oncoming tackles. “That’s good the team is coming together. I’m glad to hear Portland’s a good fit for you! Good friends and good cities are always a great combination.”

That light from before must blink out on Lindsey’s face, because Shirley cocks her head. Thankfully, she doesn’t voice the question Lindsey can see in her eyes.

Trying and failing to redirect the conversation as effortlessly as Shirley did, Lindsey tips her chin to the fading sunset. “Though I have to say the weather is much nicer here in LA. Excited to get a few days of sun in.”

Shirley’s teammates scoff in unison, clearly disagreeing with her weather comment.

“What?” Lindsey says a little defensively. “It’s a perfect night for a game!”

“You’re crazy!” Shirley must repeat the phrase in Spanish, and then continues. “This stupid city is freezing.”

“You sound like an old lady.” Lindsey tugs at Shirley’s jacket sleeve and can’t help but laugh as the beta scowls. “All wrapped up in sweats despite it being seventy something out.”

Shirley pushes her away good-naturedly. “Back home it’s hot.” She turns to the younger girl and asks something in Spanish. The girl replies and Shirley continues her train of thought. “The past week has been high nineties, miserable heat to run sprints in.”

Lindsey wrinkles her nose. “But it’s only April!”

“Si, is, si.” Shirley nods. “Very hot in Costa Rica this time of year. We could use some of the rain you get in Portland too. You should come visit, pack the rain in your carry on.”

“I’ll ship you all my soggy cleats and training clothes, you can dry them out for me.” Lindsey’s about to ask how the Costa Rican league works, if they’re already playing or still in preseason, when the younger girl interrupts.

“Your rude friend is on her way back, and she brought reinforcements.” The girl says in perfect, almost unaccented English.

Sure enough, when Lindsey glances over her shoulder Allie is stalking toward them. She’s far too pleased with herself, that irritating smirk she wears after winning five versus five drills plastered across her face. It isn’t until Lindsey glances behind Allie that she realizes why the other woman is convinced she’s won. Carli is right on her heels, a furrow between her brows.

“Ah, shit. I gotta go.” She attempts to say some combinations of goodbye and see you later in Spanish, but it falls off her tongue in a heap.

All three women laugh at her, and Lindsey bites her cheek to stop the blush from rising up. Shirley gives her a quick parting hug, and whispers the phrase Lindsey had attempted. The beta is careful to speak slowly this time.

“Horan!” Carli’s bark seems to cut through the stadium.

She forgets to repeat the goodbye in Spanish to Shirley and settles for a swear instead.

“Muy bien!” Shirley laughs, and chips the ball Allie had discarded earlier to Carli’s feet. “See, you still remember the essential Spanish.”

Lindsey watches dumbfounded as the ball drops before Carli and halts her progress. The alpha juggles the ball up into her hands and gives Shirley a begrudging nod. Allie keeps coming, eyes narrowed and growl building thanks to the cheeky distraction. It’s clear Allie was planning on watching Carli chew Lindsey out, but Shirley’s just foiled that plot.

Shirley motions her teammates away, even as the senior player says something none too quietly in Spanish. It’s clearly an insult of some kind and meant to incite Allie further. Shirley’s rebuke is swift, and while Lindsey can’t understand the words, she grasps the tone without issue.

Just as Allie’s about to close the last few feet, the Costa Ricans back away. Ever an instigator, Shirley’s turned her back in a blatant dismissal, while her teammates keep wary eyes on the Americans. Shirley shoos her teammates on, and they eventually turn and jog back to their bench, though the younger girl keeps glancing over to make sure Shirley’s keeping pace with them.

“You done kissing the opponent’s ass?” Allie snaps as she sidles up to Lindsey’s side.

Lindsey doesn’t reward her with a response, just shoves her with a shoulder as she turns away. Carli’s growling at them, ranting about the mentality of a winner and how they’re not focused enough. Lindsey does muster up an apology for Carli, it’s not sincere, but it seems to placate the alpha. They return to the American bench, Allie still in a piss ass mood.

The coaching staff goes over some final instructions, and soon, the starting eleven make their way to the center of the field. The Costa Ricans are doing the same, though they’ve shed their warmup jackets. Shirley’s a few feet off the sideline on the field, affixing the captain’s armband around the arm of the senior player that had laughed at Lindsey’s Spanish.

As she passes them, Lindsey can’t help but ask, “How do you say smartass in Spanish?”

The senior player scowls at her, and turns away to join the lineup. Shirley smiles and nods, waiting for Lindsey to finish the joke.

“Shirley Cruz.” Lindsey manages to roll the r’s as she delivers the punchline, and plucks at the warmup pants Shirley’s still wearing.

Chuckling, Shirley bats Lindsey’s hand away and backtracks to her bench, walking backwards so she can maintain eye contact with Lindsey.

“What did you say earlier? I’m an old lady, too cold to play tonight.”

It’s a damned lie and Shirley knows it. Lindsey’s watched her run circles around some of the best players in the world while snow fell on Paris. Her feet aren’t the only thing that are clever. The Costa Ricans read the games and decided to turn the tables on how they’d approach them.

The USWNT had prepped for this game thinking Shirley and the other veterans would be starting. They’d started a midfield and backline that was experienced and had played Costa Rica before. Lindsey had been instructed to push higher up the pitch, disrupt play deep in the Costa Rican midfield.

Glancing over the Costa Rican starters, it was clear they were resting the veterans for the second game. With the exception of their current captain and the goalkeeper, all the faces Lindsey was analyzing were unfamiliar. Some of the girls even looked to be younger than Mal.

Lindsey just shakes her head and laughs. “Too cold and afraid I’d knock you on your ass.”

Shirley doesn’t respond, just smirks and winks at her. It’s not until Lindsey’s walking into the lineup that she realizes the wink wasn’t for her. The expression on Carli’s face is thunderous, the alpha tracking Shirley’s casual stroll back to the bench intently. Lindsey would bet Tobin’s skateboard collection that Carli was kicking herself for talking her way into this game.

Next to Lindsey, Alyssa’s chest shakes with barely controlled laughter. “I wonder who will be marking her in the third now?”

Lindsey can’t help but flash a grin at the other woman as the anthem begins to play. Soon, the game is underway and Lindsey is completely focused on the task at hand. The new Costa Rican players, while passionate, lack a finishing touch. They’re too quick to break and lose possession so often Lindsey’s afraid she may have whiplash by the time the game is over.

The senior player, the one Shirley had given her captain’s armband too, is hollering herself hoarse on the Costa Rican back line. Why they hadn’t picked someone who could play up top and organize the team there while the goalkeeper took care of the defenders baffled Lindsey. Certainly not how she would let a bunch of kids loose on a field, but hey, if their mistakes helped Lindsey win, who was she to complain?

Midfield was a playground, and Lindsey was queen of the jungle gym. She was dictating play, straight forward balls zipping past reaching feet and distributing out wide when the Costa Rican midfield converged. She knew her instructions were to push up further, but she couldn’t help but have a little fun. No wonder Shirley liked sitting here.

The repetition and constant possession was lulling. It was almost like they were at practice. Pass here, pass there, back to the defenders for a little triangle drill, and then back to midfield so the ball could be passed up to Alex or Megan. Lindsey was so relieved when something finally happened that she almost jumped for joy.

The first break for the Americans came quickly, and Lindsey plunged forward with the rest of the team, grinning like a fool. It was always hilarious watching the opposing team panic and scramble back to defend. So many teams just lost their heads when they were rushed.

Before she could play the pass off to Megan, who was making a run in from the left, Lindsey’s feet disappeared from beneath her. Surprised by the sheer audacity of the tackle, she was just outside the box, Lindsey went down with a shout of surprise. Above her, the senior Costa Rican player with the captain’s armband shrugged off the referee’s whistle.

It was a necessary foul, but still, Lindsey was pissed. The player offered her a hand, but Lindsey pushed it away and got to her feet. She was surprised when the other player didn’t growl and call her something rude in Spanish. Instead, the veteran just smirked and shook her head, trotting off to take her place for the penalty.

“Making friends?” Tobin asked as she waltzed over to provide another option for the kick.

“I hate her.” Lindsey growled.

With a laugh, Tobin set the ball and straightened up. “It was one foul, Linds.”

“She laughed at my Spanish!”

“You don’t speak Spanish.” Tobin replied unhelpfully and chipped the ball forward.

The game resumed and Costa Rica managed to get out of the penalty mostly unscathed. Becky tracked down the rebound from the goalkeeper’s punch and the frontline made a few more attacks. After several minutes of desperate scrambling for Costa Rica, the senior defender booted the ball out of play, yelling instructions to her overwhelmed teammates.

As the minutes ticked by, one of the new players finally plucked up the courage to step up to Lindsey. Quick feet poked at the ball, but Lindsey kept turning just so. All too soon, the player was gone, and Lindsey couldn’t help but be disappointed with their effort. She’d been prepared for a bit of a fight tonight, and so far, Costa Rica was lacking.

The predictable passing game and triangle drill with the defenders continued. Possession remained with the Americans, despite a few more failed scoring attempts. When Costa Rica regrouped, the midfielders decided to wake up and try another pass at Lindsey. She drew the players in, their quick feet forcing her to twist and throw her weight around. None of the challenges lasted long, and it was easy to turn away and play a little give and go with Becky.

It wasn’t until the space in front of Lindsey suddenly closed down that she realized they were being lulled into a fall sense of security. One second, Lindsey had the whole field before her, and the next, there was a Costa Rican midfielder blocking the stands. Unlike her teammates, this girl pushed back and wasn’t as easily shaken.

Not one to be outdone, Lindsey backtracked a bit and muscled her way out of the pressure. Attacker shaken, Lindsey went to make contact with the ball and instead made contact with a cleat. The Costa Rican midfielder was back and had snuck her way into a brief moment of possession.

Irritated, Lindsey decided it was time to stop playing nice and threw her whole body into the play. Unfortunately for her, it was like throwing yourself at a wall. The other girl didn’t flinch, just absorbed the impact in her turn and worked with the new momentum. They continued to battle down the sideline, and suddenly, Kelly was before them, snarling.

When the hell had they wandered out of the midfield?

The girl took both Lindsey and Kelly by surprise and stopped, ball almost forgotten as everyone skidded to keep pace with her. Knowing where this play was heading, Lindsey made a desperate stretch to get a toe on the ball and overbalanced. The Costa Rican threw an elbow in her side, and down she went, but this time, there was no whistle.

Ball in hand, or on her foot, the girl wisely backed the hell away from Kelly’s strike zone. Knowing there would be no call, Lindsey scrambled to her feet and raced to win the ball back. Despite the warm night and stadium lights beating down upon them, she could feel the Paris fog closing in. She knew this play. She knew this play, and she had to stop it.

Barely in the American’s defensive third, the girl squared up. Lindsey fell upon her, cleat making brief contact with the ball. Again, the girl slammed into Lindsey, and again they fought for control. Just when Lindsey thought she had it, a quick foot poked the ball forward and the girl spun away, leaving Lindsey to stumble under her own momentum.

Without so much as settling the ball, the girl struck through it, sending an absolute rocket to the top far corner of goal. Lindsey watched, breath caught in her throat, as Alyssa leaped. The keeper was completely stretched, putting all her effort and then some into the save. Just when Lindsey thought Alyssa had it, the ball brushed by her fingers and sank into the top far corner of the net.

Paris.

Fog closing in and a sheet of ice over the field.

Too quick feet and a smile that hid an unshakeable work ethic.

A pint sized terror who spoke French almost as well as she played.

Yet, as the blood rushing in Lindsey’s ears began to fade and Alyssa popped up shouting instructions to the team, she was most certainly not in Paris. The stadium was too full, the lights too bright, and the night too warm. Plus, everyone was shouting at her in English.

Absolutely stunned, Lindsey remained rooted to the field, a step away from where the girl had taken her shot. Not even a swearing Kelly got her moving.

Unable to help herself, Lindsey glared at the Costa Rican midfielders, the pesky little shits that had fluttered in but never stepped up. They had been driving her! All game, they had been testing her, poking her here, and poking here there. When they finally got her where they wanted her, the other midfielder had dove in.

Speaking of that midfielder.

Lindsey found the girl on the field, still smiling, the skin around her eyes crinkling. Her hair was pulled back, but Lindsey recognized her now. The new midfielder they dedicated a whole, “Who to Watch Out For” slide to. She had also called Allie rude, but better not to focus on her redeeming qualities. What the hell was her name and why hadn’t Lindsey been paying closer attention to Carli yesterday?

The all encompassing white noise of pure, unbridled rage filled Lindsey’s head as everyone moved to restart. She was so mad at herself. How many times was she going to let this drill screw her?

Fuck that girl who’s name she couldn’t remember.

As she trudged over to the centerline, Lindsey couldn’t help but glare out at the Costa Rican bench. What had Shirley said earlier about daydreaming? Scanning the seats, Lindsey finally found who she was looking for, the only pair of navy blue pants amongst the Coast Ricans. While she was too far away to make out Shirley’s expression, Lindsey just knew the other woman was hiding a smirk behind the hand resting against her face.

Costa Rica may have not started Shirley tonight, but they had started an irritating team of soon to be Shirleys. Rather than saddle the job with one player, they’d broken the play from Paris amongst the midfielders. Lindsey couldn’t decide who was worse, the original quick footed smartass, or her four pesky trainees.

There was only a few minutes left in the half, and the Americans restarted with a desperate edge to their play. The game was starting to get messy, more rough tackles and less calm, cool, and collected possession. There was no way they were going into the locker room down a goal to Costa Rica.

Lindsey was no longer the queen of the jungle gym, she was the tyrant of the playground. Anyone who so much as considered stepping to the ball while it was in her midfield was fair game. If the Costa Rican midfielders wanted to test her, then she was going to test them back. Hard. How she managed to not pick up a yellow was a miracle that deserved its own award.

All too soon, the referee was blowing the halftime whistle, and the players began to head for their benches. Lindsey’s teammates were dragging their feet, stunned that they hadn’t made any progress. The Costa Ricans were practically skipping, that midfielder Lindsey wanted to run into the ground still receiving congratulatory hugs and pats on the back.

Anger blanketing her mind and senses like Parisian fog, Lindsey stalked over to her bench and grabbed her things. She was in no hurry to head to the locker room and confront the ass chewing she rightfully deserved from the team. However, staying on the field to scream and kick at grass wouldn’t help anyone.

Too incensed and without Tobin close at hand to stop her, Lindsey let her frustration take over. She timed her walk into the tunnel to coincide with that stupid midfielder. As they converged on the tunnel entrance, Lindsey went out of her way to make hard contact with the girl. Even off the field she had a solid stance, but Lindsey was so pissed she managed to make the other girl stumble just a little.

All her life, Lindsey had been warned against picking fights. As an omega, everyone lectured, she was at a disadvantage and easily cowed. Not to mention it was unseemly for omegas to be anything other than bashful mutes.

Of course, there was a grain of truth to the warnings, as Tobin liked to remind her. In a fight, all the opponent needed was one opening to get the upper hand. If an alpha did manage to take her by surprise with a perfectly timed look or snarl, she would be in trouble. Instincts could be trained and ignored, but they always won out in the end.

Prepared for swinging hands and a choice phrase in Spanish or two, Lindsey was dumbfounded when the girl just straightened and smiled. Like her picture from the slideshow, the skin around her eyes crinkled, the expression lighting up her face. With a laugh and a shake of her head, the girl walked into her locker room. She was completely and utterly unfazed by Lindsey, hands balled into fists, eyes narrowed, and teeth barred.

Fuck. That. Girl.

Choking down a scream of rage, Lindsey spun and stopped. Shirley was standing behind her, arms crossed and one questioning eyebrow raised. Too upset to be ashamed, Lindsey snarled.

Frowning, Shirley just shook her head and brushed passed Lindsey. She said something in Spanish and then translated it. “You’re a better player than that, Horan, and you know it.”

“You’re an infuriating smartass and you know it!” Lindsey shouted back, tears now pricking at her eyes.

Shirley turned, usual smile back in place, and winked.

Notes:

Sorry for taking so long with this update. Unsure if I mentioned this before, but this project is very much a "it gets done when I'm inspired to get it done" kind of thing. I have every intention of finishing it, updates will just be sporadic and sometimes delayed.

Thanks for standing by, more to come. Please share your thoughts, they help keep me moving in the right direction.

Chapter 14: Ada Hegerberg and Dzsenifer Marozsan 3

Summary:

Where I once again get stuck on writing Ada.

Any speech in quotation marks that is italicized is being spoken in French unless otherwise stated.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They had a rare day off, and Ada was on the hunt for a good cafe. The ones near the stadium were too crowded, an odd mix of tourist traps and local favorites overflowing with the breakfast and lunch rushes. The cafe near her apartment was lacking, the coffee watered down and the pastries stale. Plus, her creepy neighbor seemed to frequent it. Joy.

As she sat at her counter and scrolled through Google reviews of cafes near and far, Ada glanced out the open doors of the balcony to the street below. A few locals were rushing off to the metro stop three streets over, overstuffed briefcases and purses thumping against their sides. A bracing wind was pushing them forward, hurrying them on their way to work.

Her phone pinged, and Ada looked away from the street.

Jeni: Hoping the preseason schedule has taken over your life like mine and you’re awake despite this ungodly hour?

Ada: Bold of you to assume my screaming muscles would let me know the peace of sleep.

Jeni: Got any plans beyond wallowing in the pain that is preseason?

Ada: Just lamenting my inability to find a good, uncrowded cafe.

Jeni: Ask and you shall receive! I have a place in mind, do you like croissants?

Ada: Does it snow in winter? Is the sky blue? Is the grass green?

Jeni: You forgot the most obvious one, does preseason suck ass? 

Ada: How far do we have to walk before we get to your cafe and their croissants?

Jeni: Take one wrong metro stop and suddenly nobody trusts you :( I promise your jelly legs it’s only a few streets over from your apartment.

Ada: That cafe sucks ass harder than preseason!

Jeni: HOW DO YOU NOT LIKE LE CELLIER?!

Ada: Oh, we’re not talking about the same place. Sorry, you may continue!

Jeni: Genuinely concerned we could no longer be friends for a second. Okay, I’ll meet you in like 20mins? Maybe 30 because those stairs down to the metro are my arch nemesis. 

Friends. Was it really that easy? Ada found herself reading and rereading the message several times, a silly little smile on her face. Another gust of wind rushed through the open balcony doors, clearing Ada’s mind and wiping the smile away.

Ada: Best of luck conquering them! I’ll do you a favor and meet you in the lobby of my building so you don’t lose a fight with the stairs here.

Jeni: How can you be so kind and so cruel at the same time?

Ada: Talent ;)

Twenty minutes later, Ada was dressed and carefully trudging down the three flights of stairs to the lobby. Not for the first time, she wished the trainers lacked a bit of the signature Lyon intensity. Their hands were none too gentle, and Ada seriously doubted they understood the meaning of recovery. Massages and stretches shouldn’t hurt more than the sprints and deadlifts. Yet, here she was, regretting every minute she spent on the table in the trainer’s room yesterday.

As she waited in the lobby, Ada tugged her book out of her bag and leaned up against the section of wall with the least amount of peeling wallpaper. The paperback was battered, spine cracked and pages dog eared. It was a favorite, one of the few books she traveled with.

The lobby, like her apartment, was drafty, and Ada was glad she had opened the balcony doors this morning to get a sense of how cold it was. While France was nowhere close to the freeze of a Norwegian spring, Ada would have been very upset if she had to trudge back up three flights of stairs to grab her scarf.  

Lost in her book, Ada didn’t hear the lobby door creak open, or register the gust of cold air that flooded the space.

“Is it any good?” A quiet voice questioned.

Startled, Ada jerked back and whacked the figure suddenly standing next to her with the book.

“Hey!” Jeni yelped.

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me!” Ada snapped, the book now clutched to her racing heart.

Pouting, Jeni rubbed her arm. “If the book is that good you could just hand it to me instead of violently forcing it upon me.”

“Stop skulking in the shadows and maybe I’ll lend you a book.”

“I don’t think I want to read up on how to attack people.” Jeni mumbled sullenly.

“How about some titles on self defense so you can keep lunatic, book wielding omegas at bay?” Ada said, trying to make Jeni smile.

She was rewarded with the barest hint of upturned lips. 

“No thanks, I’m working on befriending this really intimidating omega and I think her mere presence will send the other lunatics running.”

“A human shield, how medieval.” Ada grumbled.

“Just something simple to make a dent in the first wave.”

“Oh now you have waves of deranged omegas throwing themselves at you?”

Trying and failing to act serious, Jeni gave Ada an exaggerated wink.

“Dork.” Ada chuckled and made a half hearted swipe with her book at Jeni.

The alpha scooted out of the way and gave Ada another small smile. “It’s too bad the scary omega I’m trying to befriend hits like she grew up with a sister and not a brother, because she could do some serious damage if she had a decent right hook.”

Growling, Ada waved her book. “Don’t tempt me! Do you know how heavy this book is? You’ll be bruised for weeks.”

“Alright, alright.” Jeni laughed, her hands held up in surrender.

Shaking her head, Ada shoved the book back in her bag. “So you’re sure we don’t have to trek halfway across the city to get to this cellar?”

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?”

“Never, Lyon’s Number One Tour Guide.” Ada replied with a smirk.

With a very put out sigh, Jeni shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and shouldered the door to the street open. Even this far from the city center it was busy, everyone rushing to work. The people on the street gave Jeni a wide berth, just as they did the day she and Ada went to get sandwiches. It was like following in the wake of a great ship, the alpha cutting through the sea of people with ease.

“So this cellar you’re dragging me to…”

Jeni glanced over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow.

“Should I tell my sister to collect my dismembered body there or are you going to throw the police off by scattering me across the city?”

Choking on her reply, Jeni tripped over her own feet and failed to catch herself as her hands got caught in the pockets of her jacket. Just before she face planted on the sidewalk, Ada managed to grab ahold of the back of the coat and tugged, hard. The sore muscles in Ada’s arm moaned in protest, but she managed to right Jeni just in time.

“Did your body just decide that preseason was too much and shut down on you?” Ada giggled as they stumbled forward a few steps.

“You have got to warn a girl before you say something that absurd Agatha Christie.” Jeni finally stuttered out.

“Book wielding lunatic, remember?” Ada smiled sweetly. “But in my defense, you are taking me to a cellar.”

“With wonderful croissants!”

“Which is exactly what a murderer would say to lure you into their cellar of doom.”

 

———

 

As the name promised, the cafe was in fact a cellar, but it was no dungeon of doom. Set below street level and easily bypassed if you didn’t know what you were looking for, the cafe was sleepy and uncrowded. It was a former wine cellar, rock walls and ceiling gently curving around and above them.

They grabbed an empty table near the back, where the weak spring sunlight filtered down from the half moon windows. From their chairs, Ada could just make out the blur of feet passing by on the street above. In the cafe, a few patrons sat and carefully sipped steaming cups. A lone waiter ambled between the tables, wiping up crumbs and nodding as customers placed orders. It was such a nice break from the bustling city that Ada couldn’t help but grin as she took it all in. 

“Told you I know the best eats in the city.” Jeni proudly boasted.

“I’m withholding judgement until my first sip of their coffee.”

Apprehensively, the waiter approached, obviously overhearing their English conversation. Ada prepared herself for disappointment, but remembered the promise she had made about giving France more of a chance. With a small smile, Ada greeted the waiter in French and asked him if he was well. Pleasantly surprised, the waiter replied with a full sentence, instead of the usual dismissive sniffs or one word responses Ada was used to.

After some polite chit chat, Ada ordered her coffee and then hesitated when she realized she didn’t know what Jeni liked. The alpha didn’t seem perturbed and jumped in, quietly ordering a decaf cup and two croissants. Despite what she said, Jeni’s French was very good, though the waiter had to lean in bit to hear her.

Once the waiter had moved back to the counter, Ada turned and carefully regarded Jeni. “Decaf?”

“Not you too.” Jeni groaned and leaned back in her chair.

“Me too?” Ada questioned.

Jeni waved a hand and kept her eyes on the curved ceiling, beseeching the stones for help. “Everyone on the team gives me a hard time about my coffee order.”

“Oh, this sounds like a good story!” Ada laughed. “Do explain.”

“Okay, so, a few years ago I learned I cannot handle too much caffeine.” Jeni sat up and continued her story. “The national team was playing Italy, and you know what they say, when in Rome. Svenja and I may have ordered one too many espressos, and by one too many I mean my hands were shaking and I was doing laps in the hotel hallway.”

Trying and failing to keep a straight face, Ada bit her lip and motioned for Jeni to continue as the alpha pouted at her.

“I spent the whole night roaming the hotel, unable to sit still let alone sleep. Coach was pissed!”

“Don’t tell me, you had a game the following morning?”

Pout deepening, Jeni nodded. “Bright and early! Coach almost benched my ass but I was still so amped up that they let me start. Better to have me running around on the field instead of twitching on the bench.”

“Wait, I think I remember this game.” Ada tipped her head and considered the hours of Euro footage she had watched throughout the years. “Didn’t you have a hat trick before half?”

Just as Jeni’s pout turned into a look of surprise, the waiter appeared with their coffees and croissants, saving Ada from an embarrassing explanation. The drinks were piping hot and the pastries were huge, easily eclipsing the plates they were on.

“Best croissants in Lyon.” Jeni held one up to her face, the pastry half obscuring it. “Bread as big as your face!”

Ada snorted a laugh and took a sip of her coffee. It was perfect, almost too hot and super strong. She could feel the exhaustion leaking out of her battered body sip by sip. Across from her, Jeni was letting her drink cool, fingers tearing open the croissant, wisps of steam rising from the freshly baked pastry.

“Hot, hot, hot.” Jeni mumbled as she glanced from her drink to her food. When she realized Ada was already digging in, that look of surprise from before creeped back across her face.

“One of the perks of being an intimidating ice queen, my frozen heart isn’t affected by hot drinks and food.”

“Elsa Hegerberg, baddest bitch in Lyon.” Jeni laughed and popped a bite of her croissant into her mouth.

“Hey, it’s a much better nickname than Jittery Jeni.”

“Please don’t give the girls any bright ideas.” Jeni whined. “I learned my lesson in Italy, no caffeine for me.”

“Well, at least you got a hat trick out of it!”

“Just ask my national teammates and the coaching staff, it was so not worth it.”

Ada meant to follow up right away, but when she took a bite of her croissant she had to take a minute. Now this is what she had hoped for and expected from France. Pastry so wonderful it made you pause.

“Even with all the espresso, I can’t picture you bouncing off the walls.” Ada managed to mumble out around her mouthful of croissant.

“I lived it and I’m still surprised! Usually Tabbi and Popp are the ones harassing everybody. They’re such pranksters, I don’t know how they haven’t run out of ideas yet.”

“The German Woman’s National Team having fun?” Ada laughed and shook her head.

“Glad to hear we have you fooled into thinking we’re super serious football robots. The coaching staff will be thrilled!” Jeni smiled and took a quick sip of her coffee.

“You should teach classes, and can start with my national team.”

Jeni put her coffee down and regarded Ada curiously. “Trouble on the home-front?”

Shrugging, Ada took another bite of her croissant and considered her next words carefully. “The usual issues, not enough support and funding. The federation doesn’t take us seriously so the girls aren’t motivated to take it seriously.”

“That sucks.”

Humming in agreement, Ada traced patterns in the crumbs on the table. “I have this silly hope that doing well with Lyon will get the federation to pay more attention. If we can get more of the girls playing with top teams, they’ll get more publicity, and then maybe we can force the federation’s hand.”

Trying and failing to respond, Jeni held up a hand indicating she needed a moment to choke down her rather large bite of pastry. Ada wasn’t sure if the alpha had done it on purpose to break the sudden tension, but it worked. They both ended up giggling as Jeni took a few desperate sips of her coffee and then coughed.

“Sorry to ruin the moment with my overzealous love of pastry.” Jeni laughed, and then smoothed her expression into that familiar, serious gaze Ada associated with the German captain. “That’s a whole lot of pressure to heap onto yourself just as you move to a new country and join a new team.”

Suddenly wishing she hadn’t given Jeni a hard time about being twitchy, Ada forced herself to sit still. She had never enjoyed being the center of attention, especially an alpha’s attention.

“Someone has to do something.” Ada murmured.

Still regarding her intently, Jeni tipped her head to the side. “Maybe you could break it down into more manageable parts, like a complicated play?”

Despite her instincts willing her to look and lean away, Ada sat forward a bit, putting her elbows on the table. “How would you approach it?”

Taking a few minutes to consider the question, Jeni took another sip of her coffee. “Well, when I watch everything playing out I think you need to start with preseason.”

“Watch it playing out?” Ada asked, confused.

Jeni smiled, the quick flash of her grin momentarily breaking through the serious expression that made Ada pause. “It’s something my dad always says. ‘Watch, Dzsenifer, watch.’ He means something like figure it out, break down the play, break down the player, understand the game and what’s unfolding around you so you can figure out how you fit in.”

“He sounds like a true lover of the game.”

“Oh, for sure!” Jeni’s small smile lingers this time. “Everything revolves around and comes back to football for him. It’s great, because my brother and I think the same way! Though, I think everyone wishes we could just be normal for a hot second and not make everything a football reference.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know if you start driving me crazy.”

“The sign of a true friend!”

Ada can’t help but smile at that. Who would have thought she and Dzsenifer Marozsan would be friends? It usually took much longer for people to warm up to her, especially when Ada intimidated them or tried to smack them on multiple occasions. But here Jeni sat, undeterred and trying to help her out.

“So, I’m well aware preseason has been a shit show, but like I said when we got lunch, I keep trying to fix it and only end up making it worse.” Ada explained.

“How about we take one part of preseason and try to fix that and then watch to see if the rest of the ass kicking falls into place?”

Nodding, Ada finished her croissant. “Where would you start?”

“Scoring.”

She wasn’t expecting Jeni to have such a ready answer and couldn’t help but question it. “Sure? The coaches keep telling me to hang back and support Paris.”

At this, Jeni gave a long suffering sigh. “Yeah well, that game plan didn’t work last season and won’t work this season. When Eugenie got hurt they had to push Paris up, and don’t get me wrong, the kid is good, but she lacks the confidence to be our first go to for a goal. It’s too much pressure for her. She did much better at the start of last season when she supported Eugenie.”

“I thought you wanted me to break the problem down into more manageable parts? Scoring is kind of the whole problem. Lyon need me to be the game winner, the national team needs me to be the game winner-”

Jeni held up a hand and stopped her rambling downward spiral. “I didn’t say be the face of the team or savior for your country, all I said was score.”

Ada sighed in frustration. “Easy enough to say, an entirely different thing to do.”

“Yeah but you’re a great player and can handle this, plus so much more.” Jeni replied seriously.

Biting back her retort, Ada decided to go out on a limb and just believe Jeni. They were friends after all.

“Thank you.” Ada said and Jeni gave her that signature small smile.

“You’re welcome! Now, back to the scoring thing. You have got to stop searching for me and Amandine in the midfield every time we scrimmage.”

“I seem to remember you saying something about me driving you crazy when we got lunch.” Ada laughed.

“Yes,” Jenni nodded, “you drive me insane! Please, I’m begging you, stop babysitting me and worry about Paris. She makes some questionable runs.”

“I thought you said you could find anyone regardless of the run they made?”

“Well, yes.” Jeni didn’t seem to get that Ada was poking fun at her. She breezed right past Ada’s teasing tone and was taking the question very seriously. “But I don’t want to encourage her by serving the ball when she isn’t finding the space she needs to actually put something on frame. She acts first and thinks later. As my dad would say, she needs to sit back and watch. Understand how the game is unfolding around her and where the best places are going to open up.”

Deciding to leave the joke behind and continue on this thread, Ada considered the runs Paris had been making the few times the team had scrimmaged. 

“So you prefer a forward who isn’t direct?”

Suddenly frustrated, Jeni shook her head and pushed her coffee out of the way so she could lean into Ada. “No, no. I prefer forwards that can find the space they need. Paris isn’t watching. She’s not reading how the spaces are opening and closing before her or how something could open up and become a possibility if she pulled defenders out of position.”

Like most cafes in Paris, Le Cellier had tiny tables. It was just big enough for their plates and cups, and as Jeni hunched over it, the table seemed to shrink in size until there was nothing between Ada and the agitated alpha. Trying to choose her next words carefully, Ada took her time before replying.

“She’s too predictable, you want more creativity up top and runs the opponents aren’t expecting?”

It wasn’t the answer Jeni was looking for, Ada could tell by the way the alpha glanced away and shrugged, shoulders a little too stiff

“Sure.” Jeni mumbled, and then leaned back in her chair.

Ada felt like she had failed a test, an important one too. “Maybe you should try and hit me with the ball every time you find me babysitting you. Getting nailed a few times may get the point across.”

Just like that, the tension Jeni was holding melted away and the alpha laughed. “The trainers would be so mad if I hurt you.”

“Hey, I remember that game from the Euros. You’re good but you don’t have a left foot like Marta. I think I’ll live if you hit me with the ball.”

“I have an excellent follow through!” Jeni cried, causing a few of the patrons to glance their way.

Seeing the usually composed and soft spoken alpha all bent out of shape was too funny. Ada tried and failed to hide her smirk in her coffee cup. As Jeni grumped and rolled her eyes, Ada laughed her way through the final sips of her drink.

A phone dinged, and Ada stopped hiding behind her cup to check her bag. Surprisingly, her phone screen was dark, no notification lighting it up. Odd, her boyfriend knew she had the day off and usually they were always texting or FaceTiming when she wasn’t at the stadium.

Closing her bag, Ada looked back up and nodded at Jeni. “It’s not me, must be your phone.”

Making a surprised noise, Jeni rummaged around in her jacket pockets as her phone dinged again.

“Oh,” Jeni’s face lit up once she got a look at the screen, “It’s Eugenie! Do you mind if she joins us?”

“No, of course not!” Ada said with a little too much enthusiasm. It was a complete and utter lie.

Ada was apprehensive, especially of the French National Team players. Lyon had long been the home of the elite French players, and they seemed the most put out with Ada. With the exception of Jeni, none of the other girls on the team had made an effort to get to know her. Though, the same argument could be made about Ada not making an effort to get to know her teammates. 

“Can you read the sign over the counter?” Jeni asked.

Ada turned in her chair and looked the sign over. “Yes, do you want me to read it off to you?”

Behind her, Ada could hear Jeni shifting in her chair. “Do you mind? I never really mastered reading French.”

As Ada read through the menu, Jeni tapped away on her phone. The waiter made eye contact with Ada and ambled back over to their table. 

“Do you want another decaf coffee Jittery Jeni?”

With a half hearted growl, Jeni put her phone away and glared at Ada. “Remind me to never introduce you to Tabbi or Popp. The three of you would be insufferable.”

Pushing her luck, Ada gave Jeni the sweetly innocent smile she reserved for her mother. It always helped her get out of scrapes and put the blame on Andrine. Jeni, however, was not as easily swayed as Ada’s mom.

“Perhaps you should be cut off. No more bitter blackness to fuel your ice queen evilness.”

“When did I graduate from intimidating to evil?”

“I could reinstate you to the sunshine squad if you ordered me another decaf coffee and a chocolate croissant. Plus one of those cheese danishes for Eugenie, please.”

“I’d much rather be the queen of the evil caffeine consumers.” Ada replied and then placed the order Jeni had rattled off with the waiter.

 

———

 

Ada’s apprehension regarding Eugenie, like most of her hopes and fears of France, were completely unfounded. The French striker was small and quick to smile, not nearly as intimidating as Ada made her out to be. She had bustled into the cafe, hat and scarf all but obscuring her face. Despite the restricting ensemble, Eugenie had greeted the waiter, commented on the weather with a few of the patrons, and then swooped in for a dual cheek kiss hello for Jeni.

The alpha had fussed and wrinkled her nose, swatting at Eugenie’s puffy coat. “Go sit down, your danish is getting cold.”

Carefully unwrapping herself, Eugenie smiled and made a comment about Jeni being too German in French. The alpha frowned and Eugenie reached out to pinch her cheek. Grumbling, Jeni leaned away and pushed the plate with the cheese danish closer to Eugenie.

With a dramatic sigh, the French striker sat down and bemoaned Jeni’s allergic reaction to affection. Ada couldn’t help but laugh a little at their antics, especially when Jeni stuck her tongue out at Eugenie.

“Dork.” Ada snorted into her coffee.

“Hey!” Jeni snapped, but the outburst lacked any real bite.

Accepting a steaming cup from the waiter, Eugenie admonished Jeni in French and then giggled when the alpha started to defend herself, ticking off points on her fingers. As Jeni rambled on, Eugenie turned to Ada and wished her a good morning.

Ada returned the greeting in French and asked about Eugenie’s scarf. It was one of those extra wide ones that could be worn as shawl, and it looked incredibly soft. The French striker smiled so wide a dimple appeared and she complimented Ada’s French. She then launched into a description of the store and how it was near this great little shop that sold pants in stylish prints.

While Ada liked to think her French was good, Eugenie was excited and talking a mile a minute. Ada did manage to understand the scarf and shop with the pants were in Paris, but beyond that, she was lost. Ada must have a stricken look on her face, because Jeni suddenly butted into the conversation.

“Eugenie, you’re talking too fast. Even I can’t follow.” Jeni all but whispered in French. 

Rapid fire gush about her scarf and the shops in Paris broken, Eugenie turned away from Ada and glanced at Jeni. 

“I thought you didn’t like cheese danishes?.” Eugenie questioned.

Before Jeni could ask what the hell Eugenie was talking about, the woman was pushing her plate towards Jeni and turning back to Ada.

“Wait until you see Paris! We’re opening the season against PSG and the team always arrives early enough that we can get some shopping in. I’ll show you where I got the scarf and there’s another shop on that street, not the one with the pants, but this other one has shoes you never see anywhere else!” Eugenie said in more easily understood French.

Nodding, Ada tried and failed to keep a straight face as Jeni rolled her eyes beyond the French striker. “Yes, please! I’d enjoy you showing me around the shopping district.”

“Oh, no.” Jeni groaned. “Please do not encourage her!”

“Shush.” Eugenie replied. “Try the danish, I thought you asked for a bite earlier?”

“I don’t like cheese danishes.” Jeni mumbled, and Eugenie leaned in a bit, trying to hear her better. Before she continued, Jeni pushed Eugenie’s plate back over to her. “Focus on what’s important here, your shopping addiction and severe lack of closet space in your apartment.”

“Aren’t Germans supposed to be level headed?” Eugenie asked. “Don’t go all French on me now Jeni with dramatic tales and lies.”

“You use your guest room as a closet and still don’t have enough space for all your things!” Jeni accused.

With a sigh, Eugenie took a bite of her danish and a sip of her long since cooled coffee. She patted Jeni’s arm good naturally and then leaned over to Ada with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes.

“Do not let Jeni fool you, I most certainly do not have a shopping addiction and my things are very well organized.” 

“I tell my sister the same thing,” Ada smirked, and glanced over at Jeni, “but much like our friend here she won’t believe the truth.”

“Ah!” Eugenie cried triumphantly and clapped her hands. “A sister in arms, finally! Jeni’s been wearing the same boots and jacket since her Under 17 days.”

“I like this jacket!” Jeni cried in English, her arms crossed defensively.

Ada and Eugenie broke into a fit of giggles, Jeni glaring at them from across the table. Like most alpha’s, Jeni’s gaze was arresting. It grabbed ahold of Ada and made her fidget in her seat, giggles dying in the back of her throat. Next to her, Eugenie mumbled something in French and took another bite of her danish.

Brushing crumbs from her lap, Eugenie glanced over and saw Ada staring into her coffee cup. Little ripples were disturbing the surface as Ada bounced her knee, nervous energy making her squirm. A warm hand settled atop Ada’s knee, stilling it.

When Ada glanced up at her, Eugenie smiled wide like earlier, the French striker’s expression friendly and open. She was an omega too, but completely unfazed by Jeni’s stern demeanor.

“Don’t mind our sour faced German.” Eugenie whispered.

Before Ada could thank Eugenie, an almost undecipherable whisper caught Ada’s ears. Jeni was speaking German under her breath, and much to her surprise, Ada understood her. She was complaining about the two omegas whispering secrets. French was by far the best of Ada’s languages after English, but her grasp of German wasn’t too bad.  

“You’re the only one who whispers.” Ada said in halting German.

Caught off guard, Jeni blinked at her, and then grinned. It wasn’t one of those signature, fleeting Jeni smiles either. The alpha’s whole face lit up, and she looked almost as excited as she had when discussing her brother and father’s love of the game.

“You speak German?” Jeni asked.

Eugenia glanced between the two of them, cheese danish almost eaten. 

Switching back to French, Ada said, “Yes, enough to understand you desperately want to try that danish.”

Sliding her plate and last bite over, Eugenia shook her head. “I told you earlier to try it! Here, I’m full anyways.”

Jeni’s smile vanished and she frowned down at the cheese danish. Laughing, Ada finished her coffee and watched as the crowds of Lyon flashed by high above.

 

———

 

Practice the next day was brutal. 

Lyon’s usual default setting was intense, but tensions were running high as preseason raced to a close. Just as Eugenia had said at the cafe the previous day, Lyon’s first official game would be in Paris against their rivals, PSG. Everyone was desperate to get their name onto that roster, especially the Lyon Academy kids. 

They fought ferociously for every ball and put everything they had and then some into each shot on goal. Ada was worried they were going to overexert themselves, or worse, hurt her in their single minded focus. She was trying and failing to keep pace with them, which only made her frustration with how her game was floundering worse.

While Ada had struggled all preseason, she was flat out drowning today. If someone unfamiliar with the team had been observing, they would have asked why someone was passing the ball to the water girl. It was the only way to describe her complete lack of game.

At this point, the training staff, like the rest of the team, simply ignored her. She trotted listlessly up and down the field, dragging her exhausted body through drills and team building activities. Ashamed and close to tears, Ada did her best to steer clear of Jeni throughout the day. Eugenie, still rehabbing from her injury last year, wasn’t out on the field yet with the team, and mercifully was easier to avoid.

In the locker room, Ada willed the chaos of twenty plus women trying to shower and change to drown out her miserable thoughts. She sat in her locker, sweat drenched training kit still on and sticking to her skin. On the floor, her muddy cleats regarded her accusingly. They were beat to hell and for what?

Ruined from slip sliding after a bunch of kids who had never played a professional game in their lives.

Speaking of those kids. They were chattering away in French across the room, a whole group of them discussing the available roster spots. As their voices rose above the general din of the locker room, a figure entered, ice saran wrapped all along their left leg. 

Despite the injury, Jeni moved as quickly and quietly as always. She stepped into the knot of kids, the girls who were not the alpha’s target fleeing with clothes half on and cleats still untied. Delphine, the girl who had taken Jeni down in training, stood up and faced the alpha looming over her locker.

Ada waited with bated breath to see what Jeni was going to do. Delphine’s tackle had been reckless, but everyone was playing a little unhinged. Easily a head taller than the girl, Jeni regarded the Lyon Academy player with her signature stern expression. 

“Aggression is only useful if it’s controlled. You cannot focus solely on the play before you. Doing so doesn’t benefit your team or your own game, Delphine.” Jeni said quietly in French.

Delphine nodded and started to apologize, but Jeni waved her off. 

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.” Jeni motioned to Paris, who was across the room and in the process of packing her bag. “Your silly foul robbed her of an opportunity to score and set your scrimmage team back with a penalty shot that was converted. I know you’re desperate to leave the Academy behind, Delphine, but you need to start watching and understanding the game like a professional. Your attention must be on the team. A goalscorer is no use to us if she’s too busy trying to get the ball to her feet and not in the back of the net.”

Surprised by the lack of yelling, Ada tried her best to eavesdrop on the advice Jeni was giving Delphine. She would have pegged the German captain to be quick to anger, but Jeni seemed more disappointed than anything. It was odd how Ada’s idea of the famous Dzsenifer Marozsan was so far from the truth. 

If you had asked her before she joined Lyon, Ada would have said Jeni would be loud, aggressive, and serious. Sure, she had gotten the serious part somewhat correct, but the German team’s demeanor as a whole was steely. Jeni was so soft spoken it was sometimes impossible to hear her and while she commanded attention naturally, she never forced that attention.

Even now, leg encased in ice and one hell of a bruise surely forming up and down her leg, she was trying to help the person who had almost ended her season before it began. Jeni was such a dichotomy of the alpha’s Ada was used to it was almost comical.  

Tuning back into the conversation she was not a part of, Ada managed to catch the last few words Jeni had for the Academy player.

“…stop rushing to do everything yourself and take a moment to watch.”

Idea suddenly forming, Ada kicked her dirty cleats into her locker and got up, training kit still on. For the most part, the team moved out of her way as she wove toward the door to the locker room. Perhaps they thought her abysmal game was catchable, like a cold, or maybe she was just smelly. Eavesdropping instead of showering was a poor look socially, but maybe it had helped to make the conversation with Jeni at the cafe make sense.

Ada walked out of the locker room and padded down the hall in her socks. She managed to make it to the video room rather quickly, only slipping once. The system was still on and unlocked, so Ada sat down in front of the computer screen and started pulling footage.

By the time she was done watching, her eyes were running and the hallway beyond the door was dark. She creeped back to the locker room, only slightly terrified someone was going to jump out of the blackness at her. Gathering her things quickly, Ada got whiff of her now dry training shirt as she pulled it off and shoved it into her bag. 

Yeah, the team had definitely been steering clear of her earlier because she smelled.

 

———

 

The final day of preseason dawned bright and clear. It was still cold, so Ada grabbed her scarf before heading out the door. As usual, she was one of the first to arrive at the stadium. Those sprints on her first day had really imparted a respect for punctuality.

As she was putting her bag away, the door to the locker room opened and Eugenie walked in. The forward chirped a happy good morning to her in French and then complimented her scarf with a wink. Ada smiled and asked about Eugenie’s rehab while she changed into her training kit. The other omega was already dressed and pawing through her locker, looking for headphones.

“Almost done! I asked the physical therapist to meet me early this morning so I could watch the game while cycling.”

Ada shot a confused look at Eugenie and then ducked down to lace up her cleats. 

“The weight room, it overlooks the field.” Eugenie explained in quick, precise French.

“Yes,” Ada nodded, looking back up at Eugenie. An image of the weight room’s glass window wall in her mind. “I’m not confused about the weight room but about the game? Isn’t the game next week?”

Headphones held up triumphantly, Eugenie grinned. “PSG is next week, but our annual end of preseason, in house game is today. It’s so much fun! Aulus and the board come down to watch too. Go score a goal for me, please!”

Before she could respond, Eugenie waved goodbye and skipped out of the locker room. Apprehension building, Ada sat numb in her locker as the rest of the team began to filter in. The Academy girls were bounding off the walls, and even Lucy was smiling. All too soon, Wendie was calling for everyone to get out and onto the field.

Legs shaky and stomach twisting, Ada circled up on the field with the rest of the girls as the training staff discussed today’s in house game. The staff and players were being split evenly and a few extra players from the Academy had been called up. As they rattled off names and handed out pinnies, there didn’t seem to be a discernible rhyme or reason to the team breakdowns.

Ada ended up on Paris and Jeni’s team, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Most of the footage she had watched last night was of them. Due to Eugenie’s injury, Paris had played almost every game last season, and well, when you had Dzsenifer Marozsan on your team you didn’t leave her sitting on the bench.

Studiously ignoring the curled lips and side eye from her assigned team and coaches, Ada marched over to her team’s side of the field. The assistant coach had been saddled with them, and he was quickly explaining the plays he wanted them to make. For Paris he had very specific and detailed instructions, but when he turned to Ada, he just made a motion with his hand and nodded at the goal.

Yeah, no shit. She barely bit back the rude retort. 

As they broke apart and took their positions, a tentative hand brushed against her arm. Ada turned and found Jeni behind her. The alpha wore what Ada was quickly beginning to associate as her default setting, resting stern face. Unlike Ada, who had resting bitch face, Jeni was closer to intense contemplation instead of scowling.

With a quick jerk of her chin, Jeni directed Ada’s gaze up and across the field. In the stands, almost at the back, was Lyon’s board of directors. The men and women looked odd in the fold out seats, suits wrinkled and faces stony. Behind them, standing in the walkway that ringed the sections of seats, was Aulus. His arms were resting on the bar that ringed the walkway, hands clasped together.

This nightmare of the board and Aulus watching her fail so spectacularly was familiar to Ada, but usually she was stark naked and it was raining. 

Pleased with herself, Jeni gently squeezed Ada’s arm and retreated to midfield, a fleeting smile dancing across her face before she turned. What happened to being friends? Delphine had tried to kill the alpha and gotten a very kind “Ask Jeni for Advice” session. Ada was FREAKING out, and all she got was some sick head game! What kind of friend scared you shitless before the most important unofficial game of your life?

Screw her, Ada couldn’t help but think and flashed her teeth in annoyance as she stepped up to the circle. Delphine stood opposite her, lips pursed in concentration. Behind the young forward, Amandine stalked in the midfield, sharp eyes scanning across Ada’s team. Wendie and Lucy defended the box and Ada could swear the opposing team’s goal was shrinking.

Hands shaking, Ada jumped in place a few times, trying to dispel all her nervous energy. She had walked into the stadium today with a plan, but like usual everything was unraveling. 

Lucy had it out for her all preseason, and there was no way the alpha was going to go easy today. Ada wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts. The height Wendie could get on her jumps made long shots into the box easily deflected. Ada shifted from foot to foot. While Sarah liked to imagine herself a striker, she was quick and Amandine was more than used to cover for her wayward National Team keeper. Ada shook her hands out, fingers tingling and gooseflesh crawling up her arms. Not to mention Delphine who was hell bent on taking Ada’s spot and ensuring that the Norwegian National Team’s best hope for-

“ADA, WATCH!” Jeni shouted as the head coach blew the whistle and commenced the unofficial game.

Shouted.

SHOUTED!

Jeni, shouting! Who would have thought?

The alpha was so loud that Ada actually startled and swung around. Delphine raced past her with the ball and Ada cursed as tears pricked her eyes. Not even a minute in and she was already fucking up. 

Only slightly aggravated with Ada’s stupidity, Jeni sighed and backtracked. As she went, she shouted Ada’s name again and pointed up to Aulus. While Ada couldn’t manage to do one thing right, Jeni managed to do everything, including disposing Delphine, effortlessly.

Ball secure at Jeni’s feet, Ada curled her lip but did as the alpha instructed. She turned back around and glanced at the board and Aulus, a king surveying his kingdom. Seriously, what was the point of rubbing this in her face? Did Jeni think that if she kicked her hard enough, Ada would manage to bounce up from rock bottom and regain her feet?

As she was turning away, an obscure figure in a window caught Ada’s attention. There, above the seats and the stony faced board, was the weight room’s wall of windows. It was built into the building that joined the stadium and situated so that one end looked out over the field. Ada could just make out the cycles and treadmills that faced the wall, the figure was on one of the bikes, hands raised.

I asked the physical therapist to meet me early this morning so I could watch the game while cycling. Go score a goal for me!

Eugenie.

Suddenly ashamed, Ada dropped her gaze from the French forward and threw herself back into the game. Jeni hadn’t been trying to fuck with her, she’d been trying to point Eugenie out. Ada really needed to get her head out of her ass.

The game was push and pull for some time, both teams winning and losing possession. About fifteen minutes in, Ada’s team managed to win the ball back and made a run forward. Keeping her eyes on Paris, Ada watched as the opposing team’s midfield and defenders blocked and circled. 

Just as she did in previous games, Paris made a pretty straightforward run. She was fast and unafraid to make room for herself, but Ada thought she could see what Jeni had been talking about. If Paris had angled her run, pulled Lucy off her mark and then switched back in front of goal, there would be more options for Ada and the other striker on their team.

That’s what Jeni had been saying to Delphine last night after practice, stop worrying about setting yourself up and get the team squared away. Or at least, that’s what Ada had inferred from the overheard conversation. 

The assistant coach shouted from their sideline, begging Jeni to play the ball. Despite all the chirping from the girls and bracing spring air rushing past, Ada could swear she heard Jeni’s sigh of frustration. Paris was an option, but she wasn’t the best option.

Deciding to change that, Ada raced into Wendie’s space and forced the tall defender to mark her instead. She danced around, doing her best to drag Wendie further from Paris. While she was doing a good job of making herself available, Ada knew Jeni wouldn’t play the ball to her.

The midfielder was particular, her upbringing in the German system evident in every step she took and glance she spared. Every turn, every touch, every footfall had a distinct and clear purpose. As of late, that purpose had been avoiding Ada’s rapidly deteriorating game. But, Ada was going to change that today, just not during this play.

Wendie preoccupied and Paris still available, Jeni played the ball forward and Paris struck. The shot had a lot of force to it, but it was ultimately too high. As Ada had guessed earlier, Paris’s angle was off. The ball ricocheted off the crossbar and everyone scrambled to recover it.

Despite the deflection, the assistant coach was clapping his hand against the clipboard he never put down. Out of the corner of her eye, Ada could see Paris, the young forward’s shoulders slumped as she turned away from an outstretched Sarah. Ada had promised to give France and this team more effort, so she did something she usually never did.

“Alright, good effort! Let’s get back!” Ada yelled as she raced past Paris and after Amandine who had come up with the ball.

Paris, one of the fastest girls on the team, zipped by Ada with glare and a snarl. Okay, so maybe shouted encouragement from the woman who couldn’t put one foot in front of the other was a little odd. Ada had to start somewhere however, and she’d already dived headfirst, so it was time to commit or quit.

“Here, here, here!” Ada begged Jeni as she made a breakaway, but the midfielder spun away and played the ball back.

“Away! Go up, left!” Ada directed the young Academy girl that was their third forward. At least this kid listened to her. 

The girl skipped away and up, forcing Lucy to track her. As Lucy faded away from the box, Paris ran forward and Ada tried her best to drag Wendie with her. Not so easily fooled a second time, Wendie stuck with Paris.

Out of options, as Ada was caught in no man’s land in her attempt to divert pressure, Jeni let loose a rocket from midfield. More than half the field watched, open mouthed and slightly awestruck, as the German just stepped up, calm as could be. Sarah somehow managed to get off her mark just in time, and Jeni was already turning away before the ball was in the woman’s gloves.

“WATCH!” Jeni shouted again, causing Ada to falter mid stride. “With me! Watch!”

The other team made a run at their goal, and the backup keeper, Lisa, thankfully punched the ball Amandine sent in on a curve, away. On the breakaway, Ada was alone. This time, Paris wasn’t in front of her, having gotten tangled up in the box with Amel. 

Seizing her chance, Ada pushed forward and did what the other team was expecting. Semi direct run into their box, but right before she reached it, she stopped, pivoted, and raced off left. Paris came crashing after her, still going straight and Ada waved the Academy girl right and in.

Confused and skidding after their marks, the other team’s defenders wavered. Wendie had been with Ada, but when Paris arrived the tall defender had peeled off. The other center back was with Paris too, and the left back was chasing down the Academy girl. Lucy had been trying to head off Paris and then almost crashed into Wendie.

Amandine was falling back, but Ada was still alone. As she moved toward the box, the ball suddenly materialized at her feet. She was so surprised, she almost misplayed it. One second there was grass before her and the next, the ball was connecting with her outstretched foot as she stepped forward. She didn’t even need to settle it, and she couldn’t help but marvel at being able to continue her run, uninterrupted but suddenly in possession.

A force with all the fury of a Norwegian blizzard slammed into her and sent Ada flying. There might have been a whistle, but Ada was too busy rolling ass over tea kettle in the grass. The ball was gone and Ada wasn’t entirely sure if she was still in Lyon by the time she came to a stop. Dazed, but uninjured, Ada let whoever was grasping her arm tug her to her feet. 

“For once you weren’t watching me.” Jeni chuckled happily.

With a shake of her head Ada regained her senses and frowned at the midfielder. “I should have been watching for Lucy. What day is it?”

Resting stern face back in place, Jeni cupped her face carefully. She called out to the training staff on the sidelines and refused to let Ada back away.

“No, no, stay still. Let them look you over.” Jeni whispered and moved her hand to the back of Ada’s neck, stilling the omega’s retreat.

“Lucy, I said stop her, not knock her into next week.” Wendie bemoaned as she walked over.

“She’s fine!” Lucy snapped and then glanced up at the stands behind her goal. 

The board was still in their seats, but Aulus had walked away from the railing and down several of the stairs. Almost as if by getting closer he could join them on the field and check if in fact Ada was alright.

“SHE’S FINE!” Lucy shouted with a wave to Aulus and turned to Ada with her hands pressed into prayer. “Please for the love of all things holy say you’re okay.”

Shooing the training staff away, Ada leaned around Lucy and waved up at the stands. Aulus stopped his descent down the stairs, nodded, and turned back to the board. He gestured to the field once more and then started to climb back up to his original perch. Ada could imagine him saying, See! They’re fine. These darn kids, keeping me young and on my toes.

“So you’re the one who broke Eugenie.” Ada deadpanned to Lucy.

For a beat, Lucy looked confused, and then she realized Ada was joking with her. For the first time since she’d come to France, Ada witnessed Lucy laugh. 

“No, you can thank PSG for that. Going to return the favor next week, however.”

Wendie pushed Lucy back toward her position. “No fighting, it’s unprofessional. Even against PSG.”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy trotted away and started arguing with the head coach. From his wild gesturing, it was clear he was just as aggravated as Wendie was with the hit, but handling it much less gracefully. Jeni was regarding her carefully, that stern mask unreadable.

“I’m fine, promise.” Ada said and rested a hand on Jeni’s shoulder. “I was making a joke earlier, sorry to scare you.”

She’s definitely concussed.” Jeni said to Wendie.

Shoving the midfield lightly, Ada growled in German, “Of course now you find your sense of humor!”

That quick smile was back, there and gone before Ada had seen it properly on Jeni’s lips. 

“She was able to speak German before that hit, correct?” Wendie asked Jeni cautiously.

With a deep suffering sigh that was entirely unnecessary in Ada’s fine opinion, Jeni replied, “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Good. You need someone unafraid to push your buttons.” And with that Wendie walked away.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish flopping about on a boat deck, Jeni gestured at Wendie’s retreating back like, can you believe her?! Ada just laughed and dragged Jeni back to their side of the other team’s defensive third. Lucy, while hell bent on killing her, had been careful enough not to bring Ada down in the box.

Recovered from her captain’s taunt, Jeni lined up to take the penalty kick. Sarah unfortunately stopped it, but she did bobble the rebound off her gloves. Fast as could be, Paris raced in and tried to make Sarah pay for the mistake. Somehow, perhaps thanks to Amandine cursing, Sarah managed to rectify her mistake and denied Paris an easy tap in.

This time, as they tracked back and Ada shouted encouragement, Paris nodded at her.

Thirty minutes gone and the coaches of both teams started making changes. The Academy players rotated out, with the exception of Delphine. The assistant coach motioned at Ada to come off and directed Jeni up higher. As Ada was walking to the sideline, a whistle cut through the air.

Confused, the players halted play and looked around. No one had been fouled, so why was the head coach stopping the mock game? Across the field, Ada’s name was called, and the head coach made a shooing motion back toward the center circle. Behind her, the assistant coach consulted his clipboard and then waved the damn thing in the air.

Clearly there had been a plan to pull her off now, but the head coach had changed his mind. Or, as the head coach clearly indicated with his zealous hand gestures, someone else was calling the shots. Ada looked up at the stands and found Aulus at the railing. He was making a “stay” gesture with his hand.

Ada retook her position and the game commenced. A few more shots were exchanged from both teams, but no goals yet. Just when she was sure the halftime whistle would blow, Paris made a rather creative run in from the right. Ada watched as Wendie and the backline converged and fanned out.

Deciding on her run, Ada moved forward and to the left. She clocked Amandine falling to her from behind and Lucy upon front. Paris sidled into the box under pressure, but like her first goal attempt her angle was off. Ada pulled Lucy and Amandine away regardless as Jeni raced into the box and considered her options. 

Turning, Ada watched as the backline and midfield tried to compensate for Jeni’s run. The space wasn’t open yet, but Ada knew the other team would swarm to the German. It was like she was watching the play in rewind, everyone not he field filling and emptying the spaces Ada knew they’d gravitate to or leave behind.

With Amanda distracted by Jeni, it only took a few twists and turns for Ada to shake Lucy. It helped she was moving out of the box and right field, the defender too disciplined to chase her. Ada gained and lost an Academy player, and tracked back across the path Jeni had made into the box. Well outside of the box now, Ada filled a space so quickly she almost pushed the Academy player occupying it out.

The girl moved forward and toward Jeni however, when the midfielder sidestepped Amandine and squared up to goal. Sarah tensed and got ready, heels off the line and weight balanced on her toes. Jeni, looking like the textbook definition of a player about to score, played the slickest back heel Ada had ever witnessed.

Knowing the pass would be perfectly weighted and right on target, Ada just let loose and struck through it. The ball screamed forward, all of Ada’s frustration and anger behind it. Despite her preparation, Sarah didn’t have the time to leap from her spot. The ball hit the back of the net with so much force, Ada was surprised it didn’t tear clean through.

The field and players upon it went quiet. In the sudden stillness, a quiet, repetitive sound echoed throughout the stadium. Ada glanced from Jeni’s quick smile, to the stands above them, where Aulus stood above the stunned board, clapping. Further up, in the weight room, Eugenie was up off her bike and jumping up and down in front of the full length window. 

Ada, watch.

Score a goal for me, please. 

“Finally.” Ada mouthed to herself as she walked back to the center circle and waited for her stunned teammates to join her.

Notes:

Haven't forgotten about this, don't worry. As I've mentioned before, Ada and Lindsey are a little harder to write than the other characters. Especially Ada.

Got a lot of ideas for all the other characters and those yet to be introduced, however. I guess staring at this chapter for half a year willing it to write itself was good for something.

Love to hear your thoughts on this and what you're looking for in future chapters.

Chapter 15: Katie McCabe and Ruesha Littlejohn 1

Summary:

This just kind of hit me. So here it is (had to delete and re-post because it didn't seem to load the first time).

A comment on Glasgow. Tough city, but isn't that true for all cities? Depicting the Glasgow of 20/30 years ago and general dodgy city-ness found all over the world just suits this fictional story. Please do not take my depictions of anything here as true.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Katie held back a sigh of relief as she parked her car in front of the flat Ruesha shared with a teammate. This weekend off was sorely needed and she was so tired that she actually considered just staying at her place and making Ruesha come to her. Of course, if she had done that she would have been spending the weekend alone. One didn’t exactly make Ruesha do anything.

Gathering her things and the bag from the boot of the car, Katie hobbled up to the flat door. She could only imagine what kind of scene she was making, limping along like some granny. A few games back she had pulled something in her left hamstring, and in true McCabe fashion, she’d given it about eight hours to heal before she was back on the pitch. The trainers had berated her, but she wasn’t about to sit out for a little niggle.

As she hopped one legged up the steps to the flat door, she couldn’t help but let a few hysterical giggles slip out. The neighbors would have one hell of a story to tell come tomorrow morning. She could see the headlines now, peg legged granny weighed down by pounds of gear breaks into flat, more after this commercial break. Stowing her manic hilarity, she dropped her bag and stopped teetering like a drunk toddler before the door.

Just as she was about to search her keychain, she could never remember which key was Ruesha’s, the door to the flat popped open and a far too cheerful face almost ran smack into her.

“Oh, Katie! Hi!” The academy player who shared the flat with Ruesha chirped. 

Drained both mentally and physically, Katie could only manage a grunt and halfhearted attempt to drag her bag and battered body through the now open door. Thankfully, the kid had the good sense to move and even helped pull the bag in.

“Ruesha went down to the shop because we have no food in the house.”

At this news, Katie groaned again, but much more dramatically.

“She should be back soon!” The kid fussed with Katie’s bag for a second and then backed away. “Do you want something to drink? There might be a protein bar hidden somewhere too. Sorry, I ate the last of the chicken before I packed up. On my way home for the weekend! Really excited to see…”

Unable to endure the word vomit any longer and hamstring twinging, Katie clapped the kid on the shoulder and awkwardly shuffled down the hall. 

“Right, sorry! Ruesha’s room is the one on the…”

Already there, Katie fumbled the door open and waved a hand behind her before she fell forward. Ruesha’s flat was small and there wasn’t much clearance between the door to her room and the edge of the bed. Blissful down softness greeted her and Katie groaned again as Ruesha’s scent enveloped her.

Brine and burnt rubber, and then if she breathed deep enough, Katie could just make out the woody heather Ruesha’s mum grew in their meager garden.

“I’m going to leave your bag by the door. Like I said earlier, Ruesha should be back soon! Hope you have a nice weekend Katie. Oh, how was the game today? I managed to catch part of the first-”

Ruesha had said on more than one occasion that her roommate was enamored with Katie. Anyone else would have found it weird to live with their girlfriend’s biggest fan, but not Ruesha. She thought the crush the kid had on Katie was hilarious.

Usually, Katie found the younger girl to be endearing, almost like a star struck little sister. When Katie was coming up through the ranks, she’d had her fair share of awkward yet wholesome encounters with famous players. It had always meant a lot to her that those woman hadn’t brushed her off, so Katie tried to tolerate the kid’s word vomit and fawning.

However, today’s game, the unyielding tension with the team, and the fire burning in her left leg had sapped all her patience.

“Please shut up.” Katie mumbled into Ruesha’s pillow as the girl continued to ramble from down the hall.

“-I think that call against Vivianne at the thirty eighth minute was unnecessary, but what can you do? The refereeing has been poor all season and it doesn’t look like it’ll be improving anytime soon. At least you got the win and are still top of the table! Great way to head into the weekend. Well, I’m off! Like I said, Ruesha will be back soon and-”

“Please.” Katie whined into the pillow and then flailed around with her hand for an extra one to press over her head. “Please shut up.”

“Bye Katie! Tell Ruesha I wished her a happy weekend!”

The sound of the front door opening and then closing, plus the blessed silence that followed, made Katie sigh in relief. She promised herself she’d only be another minute, and then she’d get up and find some ice for her leg. The mattress had other plans, however.

 

———

 

It had been a hell of a week. The losing streak they had been so desperate to snap continued and the hot water at the grounds was busted. Some asshole from the neighborhood broke bottles in the carpark, causing the girls to trek broken glass into the locker room.

At the flat, the fridge was empty and her car was complaining about starting again. The kid had offered to run down to the shop, but Ruesha had waved her off. Poor thing was having a hell of an introduction to professional football, and Ruesha hadn’t wanted to add being late for dinner with mum and dad to the list.

So that’s how she found herself tripping over Katie’s bag in the hall with her arms full of groceries. Swearing loud enough to wake the dead, Ruesha just managed to hang onto the bag with the glass containers. Boxes of pasta rattled to the ground while oranges rolled every which way.

Kicking and cursing, Ruesha managed to corral all the loose carbs and fruit into the kitchen. She continued her tirade as she tore open cabinet doors and slammed drawers closed. Such aggression was usually saved for her opponents on the field, but these infernal groceries were going to be the death of her.

No. 

Not the groceries. 

Katie’s bag.

Stomping back down the hall, she grabbed the red Arsenal duffel and tossed it out onto the front step. Let the animals have at it. Served Katie right for leaving her shit lying about. Also, who the hell did Katie think she was sitting on her ass while Ruesha put everything away?

Nudging the door to her room open, Ruesha found her girlfriend face down, splayed out on the bed. Katie was snoring none to quietly, a pillow over her head. Odd.

Considering her options, Ruesha nudged the bed with her foot. Katie and the bed wiggled, but the snores just continued. Smirking, Ruesha moved to the side of the bed and trailed a hand up the back of Katie’s bare leg. The alpha was in a clean pair of training shorts and a long sleeve warmup top. Both pieces of clothing some combination of Arsenal’s red and white.

Katie didn’t so much as get gooseflesh from the touch, and that’s when Ruesha knew she had her. Laughing quietly to herself, Ruesha toed off her shoes and lifted Katie’s shirt up a bit. Still snoring as peacefully as a pig in a mud puddle, Katie had no idea what was about to tackle her.

Hands braced on either side of Katie’s rib cage, the alpha’s skin warm and soft, Ruesha put a knee on the edge of the bed. Quick as a rabbit, Ruesha straddled Katie’s upper thighs and rucked the shirt further up her back. Between the sudden weight and rough handling, Katie came awake blearily.

“Wha-” The alpha managed to snort as her snore cut off.

As Katie tried to sit up and the pillow over her head fell away, Ruesha pulled the alpha’s shirt up and over her face. Now fully awake and aware she was under attack, Katie thrashed. Using her position to her advantage, Ruesha threw her weight over Katie and tried to pin her wrists as she tore at the shirt over her head.

Ruesha managed to get ahold of one of Katie’s hands, but the other slipped free. Snarling, Katie tried to buck her way out of the hold, but Ruesha held on. With her free hand, Katie managed to grab a pillow and awkwardly swung it to and fro. It wasn’t doing her any good and she only managed to make weak contact with Ruesha twice. 

Laughing, Ruesha snatched the pillow away and grabbed Katie’s other hand. Head and shoulders still wrapped up in her shirt, wrists pinned, and body held against the mattress, Katie was truly at Ruesha’s mercy. The alpha’s snarls filled the room, ricocheting off the bare walls.

Twisting and turning this time, Katie managed to dislodge Ruesha from her back for just a second. The alpha barked a laugh, and trying to win the tussle blind, added more force to her snarling. Ruesha had known Katie too long to be intimidated, however, and was well aware the sound was an empty threat.

Determined to win, Ruesha straddled Katie again. Using her knees, Ruesha stilled Katie’s wiggling. Well, that is until Ruesha dug her knee into Katie’s left hamstring and the alpha screamed.

“Katie!” Ruesha shouted almost as loudly, and suddenly she was rolling. 

Teeth were the first thing Ruesha saw when she blinked and found herself beneath Katie on the bed. How the other woman had managed to right her shirt was a mystery that Ruesha didn’t have the time to puzzle out. Before, Katie’s snarls had been all noise and no substance, but now they were a pitch lower and full of danger. 

Tipping her chin back, Ruesha found a spot on the ceiling just past Katie’s head that was fascinating. Someone had clearly patched it several times and done an absolute shit job of it. If Ruesha had the money to spare, she’d bet there were more cracks in the patch than there were in the ceiling beneath it.

Above her, Katie continued to snarl, the sound making Ruesha’s fingers twitch. There was a hand pinning her arm to the mattress, and it tightened around her wrist painfully as she flexed her fingers. Katie had not only righted her shirt and herself, but she’d managed to grab ahold of Ruesha as well. 

Talk about turning the tables.

Ruesha forced herself to remain still, Katie’s bared teeth barely an inch from her throat and the alpha’s nails digging bruises into her arm. She continued to stare at that patch on the ceiling, gaze barely registering the brown of Katie’s hair. While it hurt Ruesha’s pride to submit so quickly, she knew she’d crossed a line.

Katie had ten brothers. TEN! Which meant she did not break, bruise, or bleed easily. Katie and Ruesha liked snapping and snarling at each other, and Katie had been playing along just fine until Ruesha had hurt her. God, that scream. Ruesha had never heard Katie make a sound like that before.

Honestly, the echoes of that scream bouncing around in Ruesha’s head were far more terrifying than the slavering beast about to maul her. Speaking of that beast, she was heavy and Ruesha’s hand was starting to go tingly. Time to redirect her wayward and apparently very injured alpha.

“Katie?” Ruesha did her best mockery of a distressed damsel and even fluttered her eyelashes. It was weird because she still had her head tipped back, so she was essentially throwing butterfly kisses at the patch on the ceiling.

The snarling in that low pitch that promised violence only a little girl raised by a pack of wild older brothers could deliver persisted. New bruises bloomed under the nails twisted into Ruesha’s arm. Teeth pressed against her throat, which was new, and entirely unwelcome.

“Katie.” Ruesha dropped the act and made her voice low but firm. 

They’d been in a situation like this once before, and it hadn’t ended well for either of them. She didn’t want to haul off and start whaling on Katie, but Ruesha would fight her way out of this if she had to. Katie’s injury be damned.  

It felt like hours, but only another minute slid by. Ruesha debated about admonishing the alpha, but she wasn’t sure if Katie was in the right headspace to heed the dressing down. Suddenly, the teeth against Ruesha’s throat became lips.

“That hurt.” Katie whispered, her snarling picking right back up after the admission. They were back to that empty threat tone, however.

Ruesha flexed her fingers and tried to slide her arm free. Katie let it go, tucking her head into the crook of Ruesha’s neck. The alpha let her weight sink into Ruesha, and she wrapped her arms around Katie.

This time, when Ruesha pushed her hand up the back of Katie’s shirt, she didn’t have any bright ideas. She just slid her palm up and down Katie’s spine, trying to soothe the tense woman. Every muscle in Katie’s body was pulled taut.

“I’m sorry.” Katie mumbled, her snarls grating to a halt.

Hand resting against the small of Katie’s back, Ruesha took a deep breath. Wet grass, that clean, new smell of a field right after it rains filled her lungs. If it hadn’t been for the inhuman scream, you would never know the alpha was injured.

Pressing her fingers into the muscles along Katie’s spine, Ruesha dragged her hand up, keeping the pressure even and deep. “Where are you hurt?” 

Groaning in response, Katie went boneless.

“Oof.” Ruesha exaggerated Katie’s weight against her. “Get off you great lump!”

Katie made no reply and Ruesha continued her blind examination. Using both hands, she traced up and down Katie’s sides, but it caused no reaction. Slipping her fingers under the waistband of Katie’s shorts, Ruesha pressed her fingers into Katie’s hips. She was rewarded with Katie tilting forward, but the added pressure wasn’t what she was looking for. Yet.

Sliding her hands out of Katie’s shorts earned her a growl, so Ruesha pinched the alpha’s ass none too gently. Katie yelped and growled again. Rolling her eyes, Ruesha pinched the other cheek for good measure. That got her a leg slotting between her thighs. 

“Well, you certainly seem to be feeling better.” Ruesha drawled.

Still growling, Katie brushed her lips against the shell of Ruesha’s ear. Studiously ignoring the bribery attempt, Ruesha palmed Katie’s ass and then brushed her fingers a bit lower. The second she fumbled with the hem of Katie’s shorts, the alpha and thigh pressing into her core rolled away.

Turning on her side so they could be face to face, Ruesha regarded Katie carefully. The alpha stared back, now quiet, though her eyes were a little wet. 

“Katie.” Ruesha said, in that low, firm tone.

Sighing, Katie let Ruesha brush some hair from her face, and then blinked her eyes open. She had really long eyelashes and a bit of a sunburn, Ruesha noticed absently. After a few more beats of silence, Katie took a deep breath.

“Felt something twinge in my left hamstring a few games back.” Katie explained. “Hurts like a bitch now.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Ruesha snapped.

“I’m sorry.” Katie repeated, her long lashes still blinking back tears.

Grumbling, Ruesha grabbed ahold of Katie’s upper arm and tugged the alpha forward, trying to get her to lay down like before. Katie growled, but Ruesha ignored her, sitting up and snapping the waistband of Katie’s shorts.

“Lay down on your stomach so I can see your leg.” Ruesha instructed.

Growls rising in volume, Katie rolled onto her back and glared up at Ruesha.

“I’m not going to dig my knee into it again, you ninny. Shut up.”

With a disgruntled huff, Katie flopped over onto her stomach and folded her arms beneath her chin. Ruesha had to shuffle onto her knees so she could lean over Katie and look at her left leg, and the second she moved, Katie’s whole body tensed. Deciding to give her a break this one time, Ruesha made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

“I know, it hurts.” Ruesha placed one hand on the small of Katie’s back, grounding her. “I just want to see if you’re bruised and how hot to the touch it is.”

Carefully, Ruesha brushed the tips of her fingers along Katie’s left hamstring. There was no bruise, and the majority of the heat seemed to be along the outside of Katie’s thigh. Ruesha was no specialist, but she’d been playing football long enough to know this was a pretty common injury.

“Bad news, you’ll live.” Ruesha lamented.

Katie muffled her laugh into her arms and bent her right leg up, putting her foot in Ruesha’s face.

“Ew!” Ruesha swatted at Katie’s ass. “Put your gross, smelly foot away. I’m going to be the doting girlfriend and get you some ice.”

“Doting, is that the old timer phrase for abuse?”

Ignoring Katie, all the research said to leave toddlers be when they threw tantrums, Ruesha got up and went into the kitchen. After relocating a wayward orange, Ruesha grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and walked back to her room. Katie was still laying face down on the bed, and Ruesha couldn’t help but consider her options.

Gently, Ruesha moved Katie’s left leg over a little and placed the frozen bag on the back of her thigh. Katie hissed when the bag made contact with her skin and started to tense up. Climbing back onto the bed, Ruesha slipped her hand under the hem of Katie’s shirt and pressed down against the small of her back. 

It took a few minutes and added pressure for Katie to settle, only some of the muscles beneath Ruesha’s hand unlocking. Deciding to reward Katie for half the effort even though she didn’t deserve it, Ruesha edged forward and straddled Katie’s right leg. Mindful of the injury, Ruesha slotted her leg between Katie’s legs carefully, and slowly slid her hand up the alpha’s back.

They didn’t usually take injury breaks, so Ruesha wasn’t sure where they stood at the moment. Hurt and tired, Ruesha knew Katie would be easily provoked right now, and she didn’t fancy a brawl. Over her shoulder, head still resting on her folded arms, Katie watched Ruesha’s advance carefully. 

“For a second, before I came to earlier, I thought you were the kid.” Katie murmured. 

Ruesha barked a laugh. “I’d buy that kid a steak dinner if she ever got the balls to jump you.”

With a halfhearted growl, Katie flicked her eyes forward and relaxed a bit more beneath Ruesha’s searching hand. Pleased, Ruesha leaned forward and kissed Katie’s cheek. Confident now that they were both on the same page, Ruesha moved her hand down Katie’s back. When she got to the waistband of Katie’s shorts, she slipped her hand under. 

Katie’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move, so Ruesha rewarded her. Weight now firmly settled, Ruesha trailed her hand over Katie’s ass and scraped with her nails. Katie groaned, deep in her chest, but held herself still. Just as Ruesha was about to move her searching fingers where Katie wanted them, keys jangled in the lock of the flat door.

Once, okay more than once, but this one time really stood out, Siobhan caught them fooling around. It would have been fine, Siobhan had walked in on them plenty of times, except this one time Katie had been on her knees. Not only on her knees, but so far gone that Ruesha had been a little concerned when Katie didn’t snap out of it immediately.

Luckily, Siobhan hadn’t seen anything incriminating because Ruesha had hauled Katie to her feet lightning quick, but it had been a close call. Alphas didn’t let anyone push them around, especially ones as pig headed as Katie. Add her ten, older, even more pig headed alpha brothers to the mix and you had a recipe for one proud idiot. 

Ruesha knew Siobhan wouldn’t have thought anything bad about Katie letting her beta girlfriend push her around in bed every now and then, but her brothers would eventually have found out. Now they would have pitched a fit like a bunch of hysterical schoolgirls. They probably would have beaten some sense into Katie too, kicking her ass from Dublin to Glasglow and back again.

Why anyone should give a rat’s ass over what other people liked in bed was Ruesha’s opinion, but the world unfortunately didn’t have her common sense. When Katie had returned to reality after Siobhan berated them for using the living room and not their own bedroom, she’d been a wreck. Thinking about it actually made Ruesha’s stomach clench.

Poor Katie had been so wigged out, she and Ruesha didn’t do anything fun for months. It took far too many nights of bared teeth and sudden stops to convince Katie to settle down and let Ruesha take control. Even now, they still weren’t back to that slightly strange reversal of roles they’d found in Siobahn’s living room.

Which is why, when dark eyes, sometimes a softer shade of grey depending on the lighting, snapped back and seized hold of Ruesha she rolled away. Her piss drunk neighbor fumbled with the wrong lock a few more times and then eventually moved to his own door. The damage was done however, and Ruesha found herself glaring up at the patch on the ceiling.

Next to her, Katie shifted and Ruesha could hear the words forming in her chest. Before Katie could utter them, Ruesha moved onto her side and brushed a hand over Katie’s hair.

“Don’t.” Ruesha said quietly, that tight, anxious feeling building up as she got a good look at the alarm in Katie’s eyes. “I’m knackered anyways and don’t feel like having to take care of myself once you pass out.”

Narrowing her eyes, Katie growled. “I’ve never done that to you.”

“First time for everything, unfortunately.” Ruesha replied.

Rolling her eyes so hard they almost fell out of their sockets, Katie growled some more and then eventually shut up. Ruesha couldn’t help the goofy smile that pulled at her lips as she regarded Katie. It had been awhile since they’d last gotten some time alone. Katie stared back, eyes still dark but glassy with exhaustion.

Sitting up, Ruesha kissed Katie’s cheek and laid a hand on her shoulder when she moved to follow. “Stay there and ice that leg, I’m going to make a really quick dinner.”

“The kid ate the last of the chicken.” Katie said.

“I thought she would have rather eaten you out.” Ruesha replied.

Katie laughed. “Gross, she’s like twelve.”

“I thought you liked mentoring the youth? Though, if the kid wanted to learn any good moves she’d be far better off learning from me.”

Those dark eyes found Ruesha again over Katie’s shoulder. “Funny, I seem to remember a very flustered woman tripping over herself to fall into my bed.”

Sighing, Ruesha readjusted the bag on the back of Katie’s thigh. “What can I say, you were cute once, but now, you’re really starting to fall apart.”

Katie picked her right leg up again and Ruesha pushed it down. Growling, Ruesha snapped the waistband of Katie’s shorts. Usually, Katie would push back, but tonight she just laid there. If Ruesha listened closely enough, she could hear Katie’s breathing getting deeper and more even.

“Close your eyes for a few minutes.” Ruesha got up and moved to the door. “I’m just going to make some plain pasta and chicken. You know, because I’m the doting girlfriend who slaves away for you.”

The pillow mumbled some kind of reply, but Ruesha couldn’t make it out. Quietly, Ruesha slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

 

———

 

Sleep rumbled and eyes still glassy, Katie picked away at her food halfheartedly. It had taken some shaking to get her up once the food was ready, and Ruesha was slightly concerned. Katie was usually a bundle of energy and quick wits, but right now she was half dead to the world.

“Is it okay?” Ruesha asked, hating herself for how whiny she sounded.

Blinking some alertness into herself, Katie nodded and took another bite. They continued to eat in silence, Ruesha sizing Katie up. While Katie wasn’t an explosive person, she was certainly what Ruesha would coin a reactive alpha. Not violent, but just acutely aware of what was going on around her, especially when someone was laying down such a blatant challenge. 

Ignorant to the world, Katie took another slow bite of her food and then paused mid chew. She gestured to something behind Ruesha with her fork and then swallowed.

“There’s an orange on the floor.” 

“This fucking fruit!” Ruesha growled and jumped up to grab it.

Raising an eyebrow at her, Katie put her fork down. “Had a fight with the oranges when you were making dinner?”

Suddenly on the verge of tears for some absurd reason, Ruesha steadied herself with a hand on the counter and counted back from five. She could feel Katie watching her, the other woman fully awake now and paying attention. Thankfully, Katie didn’t rush into her space or start fussing over her. 

“Want to talk about it in the morning?” Katie asked evenly, nothing in her tone betraying how concerned Ruesha knew she was.

“Yes,” Ruesha moved away from the counter and sat back down at the small table, “please.”

Now picking at her food, Ruesha took what her mother would have scolded were rabbit nibbles of the pasta left on her plate. She studiously ignored Katie’s gaze and nodded at Katie’s plate to get the alpha to pick up her fork again. Pig headed as always, Katie sat still and continued to assess Ruesha.

“Are you…” Katie let her question trail off, which caused Ruesha to look up at her.

It wasn’t like Katie to not speak her mind. They regarded each other carefully, and Ruesha frowned when she couldn’t puzzle out where Katie was going with this train of thought.

“About earlier, I’m-” Katie started, but Ruesha didn’t let her finish.

“Shut up.” Ruesha snapped.

She immediately regretted her tone when she saw the brief spark of alarm flare in Katie’s eyes. Out here in the kitchen, under the abrasive bright lights, Katie’s eyes were a washed out sort of grey. It reminded her of Glasgow, the pavement of her mom’s neighborhood streets old and faded. Spooning more food onto Katie’s plate, Ruesha shook her head.

“It has nothing to do about earlier.” Ruesha somehow found a more gentle tone than before, and then sabotaged it with a snide little joke. “Not everything is about you.”

Katie just continued to stare at her, and Ruesha couldn’t help but glance away.

“I do want to…” Katie trailed off again and Ruesha looked back up at her.

Ruesha hated how this topic made Katie so uncertain. Alphas liked to play at being self-assured and cocky. For most, it was an act, a poorly performed act, but Katie was naturally confident. She was funny, a hell of a player, and very rarely had her head up her own ass. 

Please note, day to day and if ever under extreme duress, Ruesha would deny any nice thing ever uttered about the woman and swear to Katie being a pig headed idiot. Everyone knew it was a lie, but Ruesha had her pride and reputation to uphold.

This whole submission thing really rattled Katie’s nerves, and so very few things did. Mouth dry and stomach tight, Ruesha pushed her plate away. In her head she could hear her mother admonishing her for not finishing. 

“I want to, but I had to stop it tonight.” Ruesha blurted out, surprising herself, but it seemed to be the right thing to say because Katie started eating again. “Shit really hit the fan this week and I’m not in the right mental space for it. So kudos to my bum neighbor for cock blocking us. I’ll hand him a beer the next time he tries to break in.”

It was hard for Ruesha to tell if she was lying or telling the truth. Her week had been shitty, and she was worn thin, but she’d stopped not because of their neighbor. That startled look Katie had thrown over her shoulder was like a bag of frozen peas to Ruesha’s face. She hated that look. 

On Siobhan’s living room floor, Katie hadn’t looked like that. The alpha had been blissed out, pupils so dilated she looked like the people who shot up outside the bus terminal back in her mom’s neighborhood. Katie had been on her knees, waiting to do whatever Ruesha said.

That’s what they needed to get back to. Not Siobhan’s living room floor, but Katie worry free, hyper focused on Ruesha and how good it felt to just let go. 

Almost done with the extra food Ruesha had forced onto her plate, Katie cleared her throat. “Maybe we can talk about it some more tomorrow?”

Ruesha’s stomach unclenched, Katie’s full sentence a balm to her nerves, and she nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. For the record, always up for our usual run of the mill sex.”

“You make us sound like the nuns at my school.” Katie snorted and then added, “But yeah, I know that option is always on the table. Thought you were knackered though?”

“After going to the shop, almost being mauled, and then making dinner, yeah I am knackered!” Ruesha growled.

Scooping up the last shred of chicken on her plate, Katie raised an eyebrow cooly. “So dramatic. If I had wanted to maul you,” Katie made air quotes with her fingers when she said maul, “you’d be breathing through a tube right now.”

“Says the alpha who thought her ass was getting jumped by a twelve year old.” Ruesha said.

“The youth need to be mentored, not beaten to a pulp.” Katie replied with a smile. 

“You’re not beating anyone with that weak jab you’ve got.”

“Oi!” Katie dropped her fork and pointed at Ruesha. “I don’t remember you stepping into the ring the last time we went home. I’d have you on your ass before the first round even started.”

Ruesha really liked when Katie referred to them going to Dublin as going home. Most of the McCabe boys were pricks, but Katie’s mum and da were lovely. Used to a full house, Mr. and Mrs. McCabe hadn’t blinked when Katie dragged her in. It was seamless how they had folded Ruesha into their organized chaos and made a spot for her at the already crowded table.

“Loser picks up the tab at the pub for your da and brothers.” Ruesha challenged, her smile sharp.

“Done.” Katie said and shook her hand, eyes narrowed.

Grabbing her plate, Ruesha stood and scraped her meager leftovers into the bin, despite the phantom echo of her mother’s voice berating her. The day catching up with her, she fought back a yawn as she put her plate in the sink and moved back to the table. A gentle hand directed her away from the pot and over to Katie’s chair. For once, Ruesha didn’t put up a fight and let Katie reel her in. 

“We should be able to go home for a night during the international break.” Katie whispered.

Now sitting in Katie’s lap, Ruesha had a much clearer view of the exhaustion written all over Katie’s face. Gently, Ruesha brushed her hand over Katie’s hair, it was sticking up a bit from her nap.

“That sounds nice.” Ruesha murmured.

She kissed Katie slowly. When Katie didn’t deepen the kiss or move her hands off Ruesha’s waist, Ruesha couldn’t help but pull back with a smile.

“You definitely would have passed out and left me with all the work to do.” Ruesha said suggestively.

Yawning in her face, Katie made a big show of baring her teeth under an innocent guise. Rolling her eyes, Ruesha kissed Katie’s cheek. When was this woman going to learn Ruesha’s didn’t give a fuck she was alpha?

“So rude.” Ruesha said and pressed a quick kiss to Katie’s lips. “I cooked, I cleaned-”

Katie cut her off with a scoff.

“Fine.” Ruesha grumbled. “The kid cleaned, but I did cook you dinner. I also made a very excellent attempt at jumping you, but George mucked that up.”

Rumbling some kind of cross between a growl and a weary chuckle in her chest, Katie tightened her arms around Ruesha’s waist.

“Leave the dishes, I’ll clean them in the morning. Let’s just throw the pot in the fridge and call it a night.” Katie said.

Giving her a quick peck on the lips, Ruesha replied. “Cook me breakfast in the morning too and you’ve got a deal.”

Despite how blank her stare was and the injury, Katie picked Ruesha up with ease. Yelping in surprise, Ruesha scrambled to wrap her legs around Katie’s waist and her arms around Katie’s neck. Despite her arms being full, Katie stuck her plate on top of the pot and moved the shoddily covered container to the fridge.

“Ew, you’re so gross.” Ruesha scolded.

“My plate was clean!” Katie argued as she walked them down the hall.

“Your spit is dripping off that plate and into the pot.”

“I’m going to spit in your breakfast tomorrow.” Katie grumped and then dropped Ruesha unceremoniously onto the bed.

Before she could move or even grab a pillow, Katie just flopped down on top of her. Growling, Ruesha halfheartedly tried to dislodge the boneless alpha.

“Go to sleep. I thought you were knackered?” Katie groaned.

“I’d like a pillow you haven’t drooled on and a blanket that doesn’t smell like a locker room.”

Regaining her skeletal structure, Katie grabbed the collar of her training top and sniffed, her nose wrinkling. “I’ll shower in the morning.”

“Before or after you spit into my breakfast?” Ruesha questioned.

“So ungrateful.” Katie replied.

Ruesha heaved and managed to push Katie over the side of the bed. She fell in slow motion, eyes widening comically when she realized too late what Ruesha was doing. With a thunk, Katie snarled, a quick, aggravated sound, and glared up at Ruesha from the floor.

“So gross.” Ruesha chirped and then crawled up the bed and under the covers.

Awkwardly picking herself up off the floor, Katie at least had the decency to remove her training top before climbing into bed. She was favoring her left leg, and fumbled a bit with the covers. 

“Now who’s stumbling into who’s bed.” Ruesha drawled.

Katie heaved such a world weary sigh, Ruesha couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Please shut up and go to sleep.”

“Gross and mean. The kid can have you.” But just the thought of that little ass kisser making moon eyes had Ruesha tugging Katie’s arm around her waist a bit tighter.

“She talks too much, kind of like you.” Katie mumbled into Ruesha’s shoulder.

“My silence will cost you breakfast and stretching out that hamstring tomorrow, plus a nice dinner in London.” Ruesha bargained.

“All that for eight hours of blissful, uninterrupted silence?” Katie yawned so big Ruesha heard her jaw crack. “Done. Now please shut up.”

True to her word, Ruesha just hummed a reply and closed her eyes.

Notes:

Would love some thoughts on this. Wasn't planning on having these two be part of the smaller chapter group, but best laid plans rarely pan out.

Thinking one more couple for the smaller chapter group, but what do you have to say?