Timfic: "Momentum"
Happy Wednesday (assuming most of you may not read this late on a Tuesday night)! For a change of pace, I bring you... Timfic. :)
I stared up at the underside of my truck. The axle was wobbling again. I'd worked on it all day, and it was probably gonna take the rest of the day to fix it -
"Hey Tim Riggins." Bo slumped on his stomach on the dry, parched grass.
“Hey, Bo,” I said. “Hand me the wrench.”
He reached into the toolbox and I heard the sharp sound of metal hitting metal. “Which one?”
“The big one,” I muttered.
He handed me the monkey wrench. “Here you go,” He said sadly.
I looked over at him. “You’re awful quiet today.”
“Mom’s upset,” he said, pulling at a tuft of dead grass.
“Yeah?" I asked, trying to fit the wrench around the bolt, failing and trying it from a different angle. "How come?”
“Stupid A/C isn’t working,” He mumbled.
I rolled my eyes. It was 110 in the shade. It'd be like an oven in a house with no air conditioning. "She call the landlord?" I asked.
“He hasn't called back,” He said.
I squinted over at him. "What kinda unit is it?"
"I dunno," He shrugged. "She’s been working on it for a while.”
I frowned. “She’s trying to fix it?”
He tilted his head to the side and looked at me with big, expressive eyes.
I looked back up at the axle, sighed, and slid my body out from underneath the truck.
*****
I let Bo open the door. He wasn’t covered in grease.
“Mom?” He called.
“I’m still out here, honey,” She yelled.
I stepped out back. Some plastic porch chairs with the price tags still on them stood on the short concrete porch. The yard stretched about 25 feet back and ended in an eight-foot wooden fence. It looked pretty much like ours, except it had a few trees, and no pool. An old standalone porch swing stood back by the fence.
“Around here,” I heard Bo yell.
I walked around the side of the house and found her crouched down by the unit, Bo standing next to her. The thing was half-covered by dirt and dead leaves.
“I hear you’re having some trouble," I said.
“Hey, Tim,” She said, looking up at me and standing up.
Her hair was jerked back in a rough ponytail and her tank top and cut-off shorts were smeared with dirt. Damn, nice legs, I thought, and then Bo looked up at me hopefully and I crushed the thought.
"Bo, would you get me some ice water?" She asked.
"OK," He said, and trotted off.
“I’m not having much luck with this thing,” She said, frustrated, gesturing at the unit with the screwdriver in her hand.
“How long you been workin’ on it?” I asked, glancing down. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside.
She laughed bitterly and nudged the open tool box at her feet with her foot. “Since it died at ten o’clock this morning,” She muttered, wiping her hand across her forehead. It left a streak of grease on her skin.
I glanced up at the sky. The sun would be down in about an hour.
“I looked at the filter, and aside from the fact that it hasn’t been changed in about ten years, it’s fine," She said. "So I cleaned that out. And then I looked at the compressor, but I think it’s in decent shape. The coil’s a mess, but it’s working...”
I felt my eyebrows go up a little.
"What?"
I shrugged and shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "Just... most of the girls I know don't know how to change a tire."
"Yeah. Well. That's okay for when you're in high school, but in real life, sometimes..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed. "My dad taught me some stuff, but most of it I get from reading the manual."
I pursed my lips, nodded. “Right,” I said, and held my hand out for the screwdriver. “Gimme.”
“No, you know, I think I might check the compressor again -"
“We got the same model at our house,” I said. “Billy and I been workin’ on it for six years.”
She looked over at me and her forehead crinkled. "Six years?" She asked. "Really?"
“Plus, you’re pissed," I said, smiling. “Pretty soon, you’re just gonna kick it."
She made a face at me. “I was thinking about it,” She said, smiling a little. “You sure you don't mind...?"
I rolled my eyes and held out my hand.
She exhaled, shook her head and handed it to me. “Okay. Well, then I’m - gonna shower and change and - I don’t know, make lemonade or something. Lemme know when you're tired, though, and I'll come back to it."
"Here, Mom," Bo said, trotting up and handing her a cup.
"Thank you, sweetie," She said, cupping his cheek in one hand, handing the cup to me with the other. "You're gonna need this," She said.
"Thanks," I said, setting the cup on the ground as I kneeled down by the unit and peered in. "C'mere, Bo."
“What?” He asked, standing next to me. I squinted, leaned in a little.
Nope. Nope. Nope - Found it.
“Is she gone?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
He craned his neck around and looked back, puzzled. “Yeah,” He said.
“Alright," I said quietly, looking at him. "This is gonna take us ten minutes.“
“You can fix it?”
"Shhhhh," I said. "It's gonna be a surprise."
"Okay," He whispered. "So what’s wrong with it?”
“That’s why it’s gonna take ten minutes,” I said. “You’re gonna tell me.”
*****
“So it’s not the compressor.”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back against the fence with my eyes closed.
“And the fan’s okay.”
“Yep.”
“And the belt’s okay.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to get a new one,” I said, yawning a little -
“- but that’s not it.”
“Nope.”
He groaned. “I give up.”
“Keep goin’.”
He sighed. “Filter, freon, debris, compressor, fan, belt, wires...”
I stretched out my arms, knotted my fingers behind my head, and waited.
“Wires,” He mumbled. I could hear the frown in his voice. “Hey, what about the wires?”
“You checked ‘em?”
“No,” He muttered.
“Well, try that.”
There was a pause and a sound of scraping.
“They’re all gross,” He complained.
“Really.”
“Yeah, they’re all, like, gunked up with stuff.”
“Huh,” I deadpanned, turning my face to the sun.
“...should they be all dirty like that?”
I pursed my lower lip out, shrugged. There was a pause.
“...maybe ...we should clean ‘em?” He asked tentatively. “Is that it?”
I opened my eyes, squinted at him.
“Is that it?” He repeated excitedly.
I underestimated him, I thought as I leaned over to show him how to strip the wire and re-attach it. She wasn’t even back with the lemonade yet.
*****
Bo and I stood under the A/C vent in living room as the motor started up outside, closed our eyes, and let the cold air drift down to us.
“I love air conditioning,” Bo murmured.
"Me too," I said, letting my head roll back.
“No way,” We heard her yell all the way back from her bedroom. “No way!”
I smiled. This was gonna be fun -
“How’d you do it?” She called out. “What was it?”
I turned, glanced down at Bo. “It’s a secret,” He called back, smiling at me.
I heard her door open and footsteps coming fast down the hallway -
“You fixed it!” She said with this huge smile, and threw her arms around my shoulders and hugged me.
I stood there for a second and then my arms automatically closed over the little summer dress, dusty blue with little spaghetti straps and tiny white flowers, because she thought it we wouldn’t fix it and the house would still be hot and her hair was still wet, slicked back against her shoulders, and I fought the urge to -
"I'm, um," I said, letting go of her and stepping back. "I've got grease on me."
She stared at me in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" She said. "It's working, I've been out there all day -"
"- and he did it,” I said, nodding at Bo.
She rolled her eyes. "Tim," She said. Her hands were still on my shoulders -
“No. Really," I said. "He found the -"
Bo kicked me.
"- the problem," I finished lamely.
She looked down at him and smiled. “You fixed it?” She asked. "You fixed the air conditioning?"
“Yep,” He nodded. She picked him up off the ground and clutched him to her in a bear hug, covering his face with kisses. He struggled, but not too much.
“Tim Riggins helped,” Bo said.
“I’ll bet he did,” She said, smiling at me and setting him down. “Thank you so much, Tim -”
“No problem.”
“- I didn’t even make you guys anything to drink, 'cause I didn't even have the chance," She said, mussing Bo’s hair. "Why don't you come back for dinner?"
I stared down at the two of them. Bo smiled up at me.
“Well - okay,” I said. “Lemme just, uh. Go home and change.”
“Good," She said.
“Be back in a little bit," I said, opening the screen door.
"Hey," She said, following me and holding the door open. "Tim -"
"Yeah," I said, turning around. She leaned against the door frame, barefoot, smiling. Her hair was starting to dry and curl up at the edges -
"Really," She whispered. "Thank you."
I blinked. "Sure."
She smiled, looking just like Bo when he caught one of my passes, and practically skipped back to the living room. The screen door began its slow journey to closing.
“I love air conditioning, Bo,” I heard her say.
“Me too."
"So, really," She said in a low voice. "What was it?"
"Told you," He said happily. "It's a secret."
*****
"Hey," She said. "C'mon in."
"Thanks," I said, crossing the threshold. Still wearing the dress.
"Hope you like quesadillas," She said over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen.
Bo bounded over to me. "Wanna play a video game before dinner?"
"You bet."
"Cool."
"After dinner I thought we'd work on your passing arm," I said. "Unless your mom minds."
"Fine with me," She said from the kitchen, smiling.
*****
"Lemme help you with that," I said.
"Oh no. It's okay," She said. "Leave the dishes."
"Okay," I said. "You ready to throw the ball, little man?"
"You bet," He said, running for the back door.
I turned back to her. She had a dirty dish in each hands and was half-way to the sink. "Hey - wanna watch?" I asked. "He's gettin' pretty good."
She glanced outside at Bo, looked at me, set the dishes down on the counter.
"Alright," She said, grabbing a folded blanket off the back of the couch as she walked past me. "Let's see how good you are."
*****
She leaned back on the swing, her legs drawn up, her body wrapped up in the blanket. "This is great," She said. "I haven't been out here much, you know? It's been too hot."
I stood a few feet in front of her, facing Bo.
"Funny how fast the temperature drops here," She murmured.
"Go right, Bo," I called. He nodded and ran left.
"No, your other right," I called, grinning, and he doubled back.
I drew my arm back, careful not to put any strength behind it, and focused on the spiral of the ball. It left my hands in a perfect arc, and he ran right to it and caught it.
"Nice, honey," She called out from the swing.
He grinned and stopped short, looking down at the ball to make sure his fingers were on the laces, and turned his body like I taught him before launching it at me. I dodged to the side to catch it instead of having to run forward. He's getting better at this, I thought.
"Alright," I drawled. "I'm gonna throw it farther now."
"Okay," He said, jogging backwards a few steps.
I threw it with a little bit of force, let it spiral off my fingertips. He ran backwards for it and just barely missed the catch.
"Close, Bo," I called out.
He kicked it accidentally and chased after it, rolling along in the grass.
"So, uh," I said, glancing behind me. "I never asked what you're studying."
"Child psychology," She said dreamily, staring up at the sky.
I shook my head a little, looked down. "Wow," I said quietly.
"Should've been an astronomer, though."
"How come?"
"They're just so damn pretty," She said, and I followed her gaze up, staring at an ocean of glittering flecks.
"Here, Tim Riggins!" Bo called from across the yard, throwing for all he was worth. I ran forward about five paces and caught it, circled back.
"Good arm," I called back. "So where do you take your classes?" I asked, lobbing the ball back to him. "We don't exactly have a college campus here."
She shifted her weight, tugged the blanket higher. "It's an online degree," She said. "I go to the library or the high school to watch my classes on the computer. And I send in all my assignments by email, so..."
"Nice," I said, catching another pass from Bo. "So you can pretty much take your classes anywhere, then."
She looked at me. "D'you want to go to college?" She asked.
I choked down a laugh. "Probably not," I muttered.
"Why not?"
'Cause the rally girls have done my homework for the last four years, and I was held back the year Dad left, and... "School's not really my thing," I said.
"Not even to play college football?" She asked.
I turned the ball in my hands. "I wasn't," I started, looked down. "It wasn't supposed to be me. Who went."
I could feel her eyes on me. "For college, or..."
I nodded. "Or going pro."
She paused. "Well... what did you wanna do?" She asked quietly. "Before."
I shrugged my lower lip. No one had ever asked that. "Stay here," I said, looking up at the sky and then turning to face her.
"I was gonna stay right here," I said.
She watched me from the swing as it swayed gently back and forth.
I reached back, and threw the ball to Bo.
*****
"C'mon," She said. "Off to bed."
"But I wanna -"
"Nope," She said firmly. "It's past your bedtime already, and you have school tomorrow. Say goodnight."
"Night, Bo," I said, smiling.
"Night, Tim Riggins."
"I can let myself out," I said, looking at her. "Thanks for dinner."
"Thanks for the air conditioning," She said, smiling. "'Night, Tim."
I nodded, and she walked down the hallway with him. He was mumbling something about school not being more important than football.
I looked through the screen door to my house, my truck sitting in the driveway, the old dead tree trunk standing in the front yard.
I turned back, looked down the hallway at the the door to Bo's room. The door was slightly open.
I circled around again, and saw the table of dirty dishes.
*****
I was walking out of the kitchen when she came back into the living room. "Hey," She said, surprised. "You didn't need to clean up, hon."
I paused. Hon. "It's no big deal," I said, shrugging.
She looked at me for a moment and smiled. "Well, I'm just going to finish up. If you'd like to hang out, though, you're more than welcome -"
"I'll help," I said.
"Tim, really, you don't have to -"
"I don't mind," I said.
She stared at me, shook her head slightly. "Okay," She said.
She came into the kitchen, crossed to the sink. I turned and picked up a plain dishtowel I'd noticed earlier, folded it in half, flipped it onto my shoulder. She glanced at me, smiling awkwardly as I stood next to her.
She reached over and turned on the hot water, poured some detergent into the sink. Suds and steam bubbled up, the heat turning her hands a warm pink. She had small hands, delicate. I could fit them both in one of mine, I thought, and tucked my hair back.
She picked up a glass in one hand and a sponge in the other, lowering both into the suds and twisting before lifting it from the water. "Here," She said.
I took it from her and she glanced away. I tugged the towel off my shoulder with my other hand and dried it quickly, set the glass upside-down on the counter and turned back as the next glass slipped from her grasp.
It was gonna shatter, and she reached to catch it and I lunged -
The glass hit the edge of the sink with an awkward clang and fell, sloshing water almost up to the brim and then spinning lazily in a slow circle.
She stared down at my hand wrapped around her wrist, and I couldn't take my eyes off her, and then she looked up at me, shaking and I felt my breath catch -
I moved toward her and she circled, facing me and backing up at the same time and I followed, the two of us moving in this weird dance, neither of us touching until she'd back up against something, anything that would stop her from running and then -
Her back hit the closed door to the laundry room and I planted my hands against the frame of the door, the only sound our breath rushing out, and when leaned in and kissed her she was open and warm and soft and I let my arms drop and crushed myself against her, felt her arms threading up my sides to my shoulders. I sucked her lower lip in, nuzzled it with my teeth and felt the half-gasp from her mouth against mine, and then her hands were fumbling by the door -
I pressed against her, backing her up, kicking the door shut behind me and half-lifting her up, feeling her arms knot behind my neck, her mouth still on mine when I set her down on the washer. I slid my hips toward her, pressing her legs apart and sliding my hands up her thighs and she felt different, I thought, tracing the inner muscles of her legs with my fingers and listening to the catch in her breath, smooth and soft like girls but more muscled underneath and my fingertips slid to the edge where her thighs turned to hips, found the thin ribbon edge of her panties and -
"Stop," She breathed, her hands on my chest.
I froze. My fingers paused. I licked my lips and looked down at her.
No, I want this, you want this -
"Why," I breathed.
She swallowed, shook a little. "Bo," She whispered.
He was asleep, I hadn't heard his door open, I thought, and then, that's not what she means...
I took in the look of her up close, the warm smell of soap and sex and softness and let go, moving back, pulling the fabric down to her knees as I moved, and put my hands on either side of her on the washer.
Our breath was still hanging in the sudden silence, and after a moment I leaned forward and rested my forehead against her shoulder. I swallowed hard, and then I felt her hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair -
"Tim," She said, her voice shaking a little.
I swallowed. "Yeah."
"Can we," She started, and paused. "Can we talk about this?" She asked.
I closed my eyes, exhaled quietly and slowly, and stood up. She was looking at me with worried eyes.
I nodded.
"Maybe outside?" She asked.
I nodded again, stepping back, and offered my hands to help her down.
*****
She faced me on the far side of the swing, her knees tucked up under the blanket.
"Can I start?" She asked quietly.
I nodded, facing the house. I already knew this part. Cue the music and fade to black.
"I really..." She shook her head. "I wasn't expecting that," She said slowly.
I looked down at my hands and said nothing.
"Tim, if you were older, or I was - or if I didn't have Bo," She said. "Then things might be different. And I'm flattered, I really am..."
I laughed a little and looked away.
"Tim," She said gently. "Please say something -"
"I like you," I said, looking at her.
She opened her mouth to say something and shut it again.
"I like being here with both of you,” I said, looking away. "I don’t understand why we can't-"
"He won't understand, Tim," She said. "He'll get confused about who you are, and what you are to him."
I nodded, turned away. "You need a dad," I said, my voice hoarse.
"No, that's not it," She said, leaning toward me.
"Everything in your life is changing right now. Who you are, what you're going to do, what you want. It's supposed to. And you don't know where those changes are going to take you, no one does. But that's hard for a six-year-old to understand.
"All he knows is that he’s crazy about you and loves spending time with you," She said, glancing at the house. "But I've got to think about what's best for him in the long run, no matter what, and... do you understand what I mean?"
I looked down, nodded.
“I can certainly understand why he likes you so much, though,” She said.
I looked over at her. She was smiling tentatively. “What,” I said, the word almost a growl.
“That was just,” She said, shaking her head, eyes widening slightly. “Whoa.”
I licked my lips, half-smiled and looked away.
“I don’t think I’m gonna look at dishes the same way again,” She said.
“Shut up,” I muttered, swatting at her legs. She shrieked a little and dodged me. I shook my head and looked back at the house.
“So that’s what you want,” I asked. “Me and Bo.”
She paused. “Well, I think it's pretty clear what he thinks about you," She said.
"Yeah."
"And - I like you and Bo. I trust you, Tim. That’s saying a lot.”
I know.
“But I also like talking with you, and I think you do, too,” She said. “And I get the feeling you don’t talk much to other people.”
I didn't respond.
“Maybe - that’s not so bad, to have that. Someone you can talk to," She said.
Have a conversation? Yeah, I thought we might want to try that sometime -
I closed my eyes, shook my head a little and leaned back, rubbing my face with my hands. I guess you get what you ask for.
“So, we’re what, then,” I asked. “Friends?”
She tilted her head, smiled at me, and leaned forward. “Friends,” She said, stretching out her hand.
I looked at it for a moment and then reached out, one hand closing around hers in a soft handshake, the other wrapping around her wrist. I heard her breathe out quietly.
She rested her head against the back of the swing, and a moment later I felt her fingertips on the side of my face, brushing my hair back from my eyes -
“You don’t want to go home,” She asked quietly.
I turned her hands in mine, shook my head no, and felt her eyes on me.
Her fingers clutched mine closer.
“Let’s just sit here for a little bit longer, then,” She said.
I breathed out slowly and pressed against the ground with my feet, setting the swing gently into motion.
By: Whiteotter
Genre: FNL. Tim POV. Follows (1) Tim Riggins, Babysitter Extraordinaire, (2) Long Time Ago and (3) Bruised.
Spoilers: Set after "Extended Families", episode 1.18
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I worship at the altar of Peter Berg and Taylor Kitsch, and hope they (and NBC) accept my paltry tribute. Special thanks to Whirling Girl for being such an enthusiastic, meticulous beta and for her constant demands for more fic.
Like blood for grass, feedback makes the fic grow.
I stared up at the underside of my truck. The axle was wobbling again. I'd worked on it all day, and it was probably gonna take the rest of the day to fix it -
"Hey Tim Riggins." Bo slumped on his stomach on the dry, parched grass.
“Hey, Bo,” I said. “Hand me the wrench.”
He reached into the toolbox and I heard the sharp sound of metal hitting metal. “Which one?”
“The big one,” I muttered.
He handed me the monkey wrench. “Here you go,” He said sadly.
I looked over at him. “You’re awful quiet today.”
“Mom’s upset,” he said, pulling at a tuft of dead grass.
“Yeah?" I asked, trying to fit the wrench around the bolt, failing and trying it from a different angle. "How come?”
“Stupid A/C isn’t working,” He mumbled.
I rolled my eyes. It was 110 in the shade. It'd be like an oven in a house with no air conditioning. "She call the landlord?" I asked.
“He hasn't called back,” He said.
I squinted over at him. "What kinda unit is it?"
"I dunno," He shrugged. "She’s been working on it for a while.”
I frowned. “She’s trying to fix it?”
He tilted his head to the side and looked at me with big, expressive eyes.
I looked back up at the axle, sighed, and slid my body out from underneath the truck.
*****
I let Bo open the door. He wasn’t covered in grease.
“Mom?” He called.
“I’m still out here, honey,” She yelled.
I stepped out back. Some plastic porch chairs with the price tags still on them stood on the short concrete porch. The yard stretched about 25 feet back and ended in an eight-foot wooden fence. It looked pretty much like ours, except it had a few trees, and no pool. An old standalone porch swing stood back by the fence.
“Around here,” I heard Bo yell.
I walked around the side of the house and found her crouched down by the unit, Bo standing next to her. The thing was half-covered by dirt and dead leaves.
“I hear you’re having some trouble," I said.
“Hey, Tim,” She said, looking up at me and standing up.
Her hair was jerked back in a rough ponytail and her tank top and cut-off shorts were smeared with dirt. Damn, nice legs, I thought, and then Bo looked up at me hopefully and I crushed the thought.
"Bo, would you get me some ice water?" She asked.
"OK," He said, and trotted off.
“I’m not having much luck with this thing,” She said, frustrated, gesturing at the unit with the screwdriver in her hand.
“How long you been workin’ on it?” I asked, glancing down. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside.
She laughed bitterly and nudged the open tool box at her feet with her foot. “Since it died at ten o’clock this morning,” She muttered, wiping her hand across her forehead. It left a streak of grease on her skin.
I glanced up at the sky. The sun would be down in about an hour.
“I looked at the filter, and aside from the fact that it hasn’t been changed in about ten years, it’s fine," She said. "So I cleaned that out. And then I looked at the compressor, but I think it’s in decent shape. The coil’s a mess, but it’s working...”
I felt my eyebrows go up a little.
"What?"
I shrugged and shook my head. "Nothing," I said. "Just... most of the girls I know don't know how to change a tire."
"Yeah. Well. That's okay for when you're in high school, but in real life, sometimes..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed. "My dad taught me some stuff, but most of it I get from reading the manual."
I pursed my lips, nodded. “Right,” I said, and held my hand out for the screwdriver. “Gimme.”
“No, you know, I think I might check the compressor again -"
“We got the same model at our house,” I said. “Billy and I been workin’ on it for six years.”
She looked over at me and her forehead crinkled. "Six years?" She asked. "Really?"
“Plus, you’re pissed," I said, smiling. “Pretty soon, you’re just gonna kick it."
She made a face at me. “I was thinking about it,” She said, smiling a little. “You sure you don't mind...?"
I rolled my eyes and held out my hand.
She exhaled, shook her head and handed it to me. “Okay. Well, then I’m - gonna shower and change and - I don’t know, make lemonade or something. Lemme know when you're tired, though, and I'll come back to it."
"Here, Mom," Bo said, trotting up and handing her a cup.
"Thank you, sweetie," She said, cupping his cheek in one hand, handing the cup to me with the other. "You're gonna need this," She said.
"Thanks," I said, setting the cup on the ground as I kneeled down by the unit and peered in. "C'mere, Bo."
“What?” He asked, standing next to me. I squinted, leaned in a little.
Nope. Nope. Nope - Found it.
“Is she gone?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
He craned his neck around and looked back, puzzled. “Yeah,” He said.
“Alright," I said quietly, looking at him. "This is gonna take us ten minutes.“
“You can fix it?”
"Shhhhh," I said. "It's gonna be a surprise."
"Okay," He whispered. "So what’s wrong with it?”
“That’s why it’s gonna take ten minutes,” I said. “You’re gonna tell me.”
*****
“So it’s not the compressor.”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back against the fence with my eyes closed.
“And the fan’s okay.”
“Yep.”
“And the belt’s okay.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to get a new one,” I said, yawning a little -
“- but that’s not it.”
“Nope.”
He groaned. “I give up.”
“Keep goin’.”
He sighed. “Filter, freon, debris, compressor, fan, belt, wires...”
I stretched out my arms, knotted my fingers behind my head, and waited.
“Wires,” He mumbled. I could hear the frown in his voice. “Hey, what about the wires?”
“You checked ‘em?”
“No,” He muttered.
“Well, try that.”
There was a pause and a sound of scraping.
“They’re all gross,” He complained.
“Really.”
“Yeah, they’re all, like, gunked up with stuff.”
“Huh,” I deadpanned, turning my face to the sun.
“...should they be all dirty like that?”
I pursed my lower lip out, shrugged. There was a pause.
“...maybe ...we should clean ‘em?” He asked tentatively. “Is that it?”
I opened my eyes, squinted at him.
“Is that it?” He repeated excitedly.
I underestimated him, I thought as I leaned over to show him how to strip the wire and re-attach it. She wasn’t even back with the lemonade yet.
*****
Bo and I stood under the A/C vent in living room as the motor started up outside, closed our eyes, and let the cold air drift down to us.
“I love air conditioning,” Bo murmured.
"Me too," I said, letting my head roll back.
“No way,” We heard her yell all the way back from her bedroom. “No way!”
I smiled. This was gonna be fun -
“How’d you do it?” She called out. “What was it?”
I turned, glanced down at Bo. “It’s a secret,” He called back, smiling at me.
I heard her door open and footsteps coming fast down the hallway -
“You fixed it!” She said with this huge smile, and threw her arms around my shoulders and hugged me.
I stood there for a second and then my arms automatically closed over the little summer dress, dusty blue with little spaghetti straps and tiny white flowers, because she thought it we wouldn’t fix it and the house would still be hot and her hair was still wet, slicked back against her shoulders, and I fought the urge to -
"I'm, um," I said, letting go of her and stepping back. "I've got grease on me."
She stared at me in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" She said. "It's working, I've been out there all day -"
"- and he did it,” I said, nodding at Bo.
She rolled her eyes. "Tim," She said. Her hands were still on my shoulders -
“No. Really," I said. "He found the -"
Bo kicked me.
"- the problem," I finished lamely.
She looked down at him and smiled. “You fixed it?” She asked. "You fixed the air conditioning?"
“Yep,” He nodded. She picked him up off the ground and clutched him to her in a bear hug, covering his face with kisses. He struggled, but not too much.
“Tim Riggins helped,” Bo said.
“I’ll bet he did,” She said, smiling at me and setting him down. “Thank you so much, Tim -”
“No problem.”
“- I didn’t even make you guys anything to drink, 'cause I didn't even have the chance," She said, mussing Bo’s hair. "Why don't you come back for dinner?"
I stared down at the two of them. Bo smiled up at me.
“Well - okay,” I said. “Lemme just, uh. Go home and change.”
“Good," She said.
“Be back in a little bit," I said, opening the screen door.
"Hey," She said, following me and holding the door open. "Tim -"
"Yeah," I said, turning around. She leaned against the door frame, barefoot, smiling. Her hair was starting to dry and curl up at the edges -
"Really," She whispered. "Thank you."
I blinked. "Sure."
She smiled, looking just like Bo when he caught one of my passes, and practically skipped back to the living room. The screen door began its slow journey to closing.
“I love air conditioning, Bo,” I heard her say.
“Me too."
"So, really," She said in a low voice. "What was it?"
"Told you," He said happily. "It's a secret."
*****
"Hey," She said. "C'mon in."
"Thanks," I said, crossing the threshold. Still wearing the dress.
"Hope you like quesadillas," She said over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen.
Bo bounded over to me. "Wanna play a video game before dinner?"
"You bet."
"Cool."
"After dinner I thought we'd work on your passing arm," I said. "Unless your mom minds."
"Fine with me," She said from the kitchen, smiling.
*****
"Lemme help you with that," I said.
"Oh no. It's okay," She said. "Leave the dishes."
"Okay," I said. "You ready to throw the ball, little man?"
"You bet," He said, running for the back door.
I turned back to her. She had a dirty dish in each hands and was half-way to the sink. "Hey - wanna watch?" I asked. "He's gettin' pretty good."
She glanced outside at Bo, looked at me, set the dishes down on the counter.
"Alright," She said, grabbing a folded blanket off the back of the couch as she walked past me. "Let's see how good you are."
*****
She leaned back on the swing, her legs drawn up, her body wrapped up in the blanket. "This is great," She said. "I haven't been out here much, you know? It's been too hot."
I stood a few feet in front of her, facing Bo.
"Funny how fast the temperature drops here," She murmured.
"Go right, Bo," I called. He nodded and ran left.
"No, your other right," I called, grinning, and he doubled back.
I drew my arm back, careful not to put any strength behind it, and focused on the spiral of the ball. It left my hands in a perfect arc, and he ran right to it and caught it.
"Nice, honey," She called out from the swing.
He grinned and stopped short, looking down at the ball to make sure his fingers were on the laces, and turned his body like I taught him before launching it at me. I dodged to the side to catch it instead of having to run forward. He's getting better at this, I thought.
"Alright," I drawled. "I'm gonna throw it farther now."
"Okay," He said, jogging backwards a few steps.
I threw it with a little bit of force, let it spiral off my fingertips. He ran backwards for it and just barely missed the catch.
"Close, Bo," I called out.
He kicked it accidentally and chased after it, rolling along in the grass.
"So, uh," I said, glancing behind me. "I never asked what you're studying."
"Child psychology," She said dreamily, staring up at the sky.
I shook my head a little, looked down. "Wow," I said quietly.
"Should've been an astronomer, though."
"How come?"
"They're just so damn pretty," She said, and I followed her gaze up, staring at an ocean of glittering flecks.
"Here, Tim Riggins!" Bo called from across the yard, throwing for all he was worth. I ran forward about five paces and caught it, circled back.
"Good arm," I called back. "So where do you take your classes?" I asked, lobbing the ball back to him. "We don't exactly have a college campus here."
She shifted her weight, tugged the blanket higher. "It's an online degree," She said. "I go to the library or the high school to watch my classes on the computer. And I send in all my assignments by email, so..."
"Nice," I said, catching another pass from Bo. "So you can pretty much take your classes anywhere, then."
She looked at me. "D'you want to go to college?" She asked.
I choked down a laugh. "Probably not," I muttered.
"Why not?"
'Cause the rally girls have done my homework for the last four years, and I was held back the year Dad left, and... "School's not really my thing," I said.
"Not even to play college football?" She asked.
I turned the ball in my hands. "I wasn't," I started, looked down. "It wasn't supposed to be me. Who went."
I could feel her eyes on me. "For college, or..."
I nodded. "Or going pro."
She paused. "Well... what did you wanna do?" She asked quietly. "Before."
I shrugged my lower lip. No one had ever asked that. "Stay here," I said, looking up at the sky and then turning to face her.
"I was gonna stay right here," I said.
She watched me from the swing as it swayed gently back and forth.
I reached back, and threw the ball to Bo.
*****
"C'mon," She said. "Off to bed."
"But I wanna -"
"Nope," She said firmly. "It's past your bedtime already, and you have school tomorrow. Say goodnight."
"Night, Bo," I said, smiling.
"Night, Tim Riggins."
"I can let myself out," I said, looking at her. "Thanks for dinner."
"Thanks for the air conditioning," She said, smiling. "'Night, Tim."
I nodded, and she walked down the hallway with him. He was mumbling something about school not being more important than football.
I looked through the screen door to my house, my truck sitting in the driveway, the old dead tree trunk standing in the front yard.
I turned back, looked down the hallway at the the door to Bo's room. The door was slightly open.
I circled around again, and saw the table of dirty dishes.
*****
I was walking out of the kitchen when she came back into the living room. "Hey," She said, surprised. "You didn't need to clean up, hon."
I paused. Hon. "It's no big deal," I said, shrugging.
She looked at me for a moment and smiled. "Well, I'm just going to finish up. If you'd like to hang out, though, you're more than welcome -"
"I'll help," I said.
"Tim, really, you don't have to -"
"I don't mind," I said.
She stared at me, shook her head slightly. "Okay," She said.
She came into the kitchen, crossed to the sink. I turned and picked up a plain dishtowel I'd noticed earlier, folded it in half, flipped it onto my shoulder. She glanced at me, smiling awkwardly as I stood next to her.
She reached over and turned on the hot water, poured some detergent into the sink. Suds and steam bubbled up, the heat turning her hands a warm pink. She had small hands, delicate. I could fit them both in one of mine, I thought, and tucked my hair back.
She picked up a glass in one hand and a sponge in the other, lowering both into the suds and twisting before lifting it from the water. "Here," She said.
I took it from her and she glanced away. I tugged the towel off my shoulder with my other hand and dried it quickly, set the glass upside-down on the counter and turned back as the next glass slipped from her grasp.
It was gonna shatter, and she reached to catch it and I lunged -
The glass hit the edge of the sink with an awkward clang and fell, sloshing water almost up to the brim and then spinning lazily in a slow circle.
She stared down at my hand wrapped around her wrist, and I couldn't take my eyes off her, and then she looked up at me, shaking and I felt my breath catch -
I moved toward her and she circled, facing me and backing up at the same time and I followed, the two of us moving in this weird dance, neither of us touching until she'd back up against something, anything that would stop her from running and then -
Her back hit the closed door to the laundry room and I planted my hands against the frame of the door, the only sound our breath rushing out, and when leaned in and kissed her she was open and warm and soft and I let my arms drop and crushed myself against her, felt her arms threading up my sides to my shoulders. I sucked her lower lip in, nuzzled it with my teeth and felt the half-gasp from her mouth against mine, and then her hands were fumbling by the door -
I pressed against her, backing her up, kicking the door shut behind me and half-lifting her up, feeling her arms knot behind my neck, her mouth still on mine when I set her down on the washer. I slid my hips toward her, pressing her legs apart and sliding my hands up her thighs and she felt different, I thought, tracing the inner muscles of her legs with my fingers and listening to the catch in her breath, smooth and soft like girls but more muscled underneath and my fingertips slid to the edge where her thighs turned to hips, found the thin ribbon edge of her panties and -
"Stop," She breathed, her hands on my chest.
I froze. My fingers paused. I licked my lips and looked down at her.
No, I want this, you want this -
"Why," I breathed.
She swallowed, shook a little. "Bo," She whispered.
He was asleep, I hadn't heard his door open, I thought, and then, that's not what she means...
I took in the look of her up close, the warm smell of soap and sex and softness and let go, moving back, pulling the fabric down to her knees as I moved, and put my hands on either side of her on the washer.
Our breath was still hanging in the sudden silence, and after a moment I leaned forward and rested my forehead against her shoulder. I swallowed hard, and then I felt her hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair -
"Tim," She said, her voice shaking a little.
I swallowed. "Yeah."
"Can we," She started, and paused. "Can we talk about this?" She asked.
I closed my eyes, exhaled quietly and slowly, and stood up. She was looking at me with worried eyes.
I nodded.
"Maybe outside?" She asked.
I nodded again, stepping back, and offered my hands to help her down.
*****
She faced me on the far side of the swing, her knees tucked up under the blanket.
"Can I start?" She asked quietly.
I nodded, facing the house. I already knew this part. Cue the music and fade to black.
"I really..." She shook her head. "I wasn't expecting that," She said slowly.
I looked down at my hands and said nothing.
"Tim, if you were older, or I was - or if I didn't have Bo," She said. "Then things might be different. And I'm flattered, I really am..."
I laughed a little and looked away.
"Tim," She said gently. "Please say something -"
"I like you," I said, looking at her.
She opened her mouth to say something and shut it again.
"I like being here with both of you,” I said, looking away. "I don’t understand why we can't-"
"He won't understand, Tim," She said. "He'll get confused about who you are, and what you are to him."
I nodded, turned away. "You need a dad," I said, my voice hoarse.
"No, that's not it," She said, leaning toward me.
"Everything in your life is changing right now. Who you are, what you're going to do, what you want. It's supposed to. And you don't know where those changes are going to take you, no one does. But that's hard for a six-year-old to understand.
"All he knows is that he’s crazy about you and loves spending time with you," She said, glancing at the house. "But I've got to think about what's best for him in the long run, no matter what, and... do you understand what I mean?"
I looked down, nodded.
“I can certainly understand why he likes you so much, though,” She said.
I looked over at her. She was smiling tentatively. “What,” I said, the word almost a growl.
“That was just,” She said, shaking her head, eyes widening slightly. “Whoa.”
I licked my lips, half-smiled and looked away.
“I don’t think I’m gonna look at dishes the same way again,” She said.
“Shut up,” I muttered, swatting at her legs. She shrieked a little and dodged me. I shook my head and looked back at the house.
“So that’s what you want,” I asked. “Me and Bo.”
She paused. “Well, I think it's pretty clear what he thinks about you," She said.
"Yeah."
"And - I like you and Bo. I trust you, Tim. That’s saying a lot.”
I know.
“But I also like talking with you, and I think you do, too,” She said. “And I get the feeling you don’t talk much to other people.”
I didn't respond.
“Maybe - that’s not so bad, to have that. Someone you can talk to," She said.
Have a conversation? Yeah, I thought we might want to try that sometime -
I closed my eyes, shook my head a little and leaned back, rubbing my face with my hands. I guess you get what you ask for.
“So, we’re what, then,” I asked. “Friends?”
She tilted her head, smiled at me, and leaned forward. “Friends,” She said, stretching out her hand.
I looked at it for a moment and then reached out, one hand closing around hers in a soft handshake, the other wrapping around her wrist. I heard her breathe out quietly.
She rested her head against the back of the swing, and a moment later I felt her fingertips on the side of my face, brushing my hair back from my eyes -
“You don’t want to go home,” She asked quietly.
I turned her hands in mine, shook my head no, and felt her eyes on me.
Her fingers clutched mine closer.
“Let’s just sit here for a little bit longer, then,” She said.
I breathed out slowly and pressed against the ground with my feet, setting the swing gently into motion.
By: Whiteotter
Genre: FNL. Tim POV. Follows (1) Tim Riggins, Babysitter Extraordinaire, (2) Long Time Ago and (3) Bruised.
Spoilers: Set after "Extended Families", episode 1.18
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I worship at the altar of Peter Berg and Taylor Kitsch, and hope they (and NBC) accept my paltry tribute. Special thanks to Whirling Girl for being such an enthusiastic, meticulous beta and for her constant demands for more fic.
Like blood for grass, feedback makes the fic grow.