Friday Night Lights Fic
Title: The Wager
Character: Tim Riggins, Julie Taylor, and various other characters
Rating: T
Summary: AU from Season Two on...Tim and Julie have an easy relationship. Friends. In an effort to make him improve more academically Julie starts a series of bets - but what will the final prize be to the wagers they both start setting?
Desperate times called for desperate measures - and times were desperate. Julie looked at the teenage boy sharing the breakfast table with her, and narrowed her brown eyes, her pencil tapping on her lower lip thoughtfully. Her dad’s star full back was glowering at his chem lab write up as if it had somehow damaged his honor. She shook her head and closed her history book, “Alright Riggins, I promise you that the table of elements is NOT out to destroy you. What seems to be the issue.”
“Listen Taylor - this class and your mother’s insistence that I take it was a slave driver - are enough to drive me crazy. Did I somehow offend your mom?” His drawl had lost a bit of it’s normal easy roll, getting an edge to it that normally wasn’t there. Making her smirk and roll her eyes again.
“Welcome to my world Riggins - welcome to my world.” She moved around the table and plopped next to him and looked at his papers and the lab workbook, “Okay, you have Your results flipped.”
“This is why…”
“Rally girls aren’t an option Riggins. And I KNOW you know this - because I was there during your make up lab. You aren’t an idiot. So stop playing the role and get your homework done.” Julie grinned at him, and Tim was reminded of just how scary the Taylor women were, “Take your time.”
He ran his hands through his hair, “Alright - But what do I get?”
“What do you get…oh…as a reward?” Julie made a HUGE show of looking very thoughtful, “How about not having my Mom and Mr. Gustaine riding your ass? That could be an AWESOME reward.”
He nudged her chair with his foot, “I think I liked you better when you were intimidated and rarely spoke you know that…”
Julie grinned, “Well, then you shouldn’t have lived with us so I didn’t get to know you Timothy Riggins. You and your love of Oprah and your man-crush on Patrick Swayze.” Her eyes twinkled at the fullback as it was his turn to roll his eyes and then he shrugged.
“Patrick would do my lab write up for me…he is a giver…you can just tell.”
“Not if he met my mother he wouldn’t.” She flipped through his history notebook and shook her head, “I swear I have no idea how you read this chicken scratch.” She didn’t look over at his chuckle, she could hear his pencil working on the paper and didn’t want to distract him, so she flipped through the notebook some more, “TELL me this is a joke - you are not doing your history paper on the Alamo. Tim, PLEASE tell me you are being more original than that.”
“You know what Taylor…bite me.”
“Riggins, I would but I don’t want the Rally Girls to come after me for hurting the big bad 33.”
“You found my secret weakness - bites from bratty blondes.”
“That write up done yet?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you had best get to work or I am going to substitute your burger tonight for a soy burger.”
“Sadist.”
“I am a Taylor.”
“…valid point.”
“And you aren’t doing the Alamo as your paper. I refuse to allow it.”
Tim poked her with the eraser end of his pencil, “And just how do you plan on stopping me? Last time I checked you are rather short and underweight for stopping me.” He raised a dark brow, his lips curling into a familiar smirk, “Unless you plan on playing dirty.”
The blonde sniffed and raised her nose a bit in the air, “I don’t have to play dirty - because I play smart. Brat.”
He burst out laughing - a real, deep laugh, “What did you just call me?”
“A brat. It’s what you are.”
“…I don’t know what you could mean. And I can’t remember the last time someone called me that. Usually if it starts with a ‘b’ it’s a bit longer and ends with a ‘d’.”
“That’s because most people aren’t lucky enough to get to see this bratty side of you.” Twirling a blonde curl around her finger, she snagged he workbook he slid her way, “See? You take your time and you know what you are doing.”
He shook his head and stood, wincing as he stretched, “I am grabbing a water and that gel pack from the fridge - want anything?”
Julie frowned thoughtfully watching him make his way to the fridge, stiffness to his usual rolling gait, “How hard did you get hit at practice today anyway? Want some Advil?” She knew from watching him - it took a lot to bring Tim down - and that was due to practices where literally he drug over half of her father’s defensive line up and down the field. And while he rarely let anyone see the effect that had on him - there were days like today when it was just enough to dive him over the edge. And he would to sore to hide it.
“If you have some Advil that would be great, and you don’t want to know how hard I got hit. Let’s leave it at - it was hard enough.”
She heard the clinking of the bottles as the door to the fridge opened and then his chuckle, “Oh, I think your mom loves me - I really do.”
“The beer is my dad’s - not yours.”
“Not the beer smartass - there are leftovers in here…other than your dad’s chili.”
“Yeah, we destroy the chili left overs. Yeah, those are there for you - or as she likes to call you ‘The bottomless pit of Dillon.’” Julie said, as she padded down the hallway, calling the last bit over her shoulder with overly exaggerated air quotes.
The football player snorted, “She thinks I can eat she should see a defensive player eat. She would be THRILLED that it’s just me that she is feeding. Is anyone wanting this leftover buffalo chicken casserole stuff?”
“You know we are eating dinner in like an hour right?” Jule said setting the bottle on the table and looking at him like he was nuts, “Like a FULL meal.”
Time just looked at her, “And your point?”
“My point is…you know what - never mind my point. I don’t think I actually have one.” She rested her chin on the palm of her hand, “I think there is some of that pasta salad in there too if you want it.”
“I ate that yesterday - your mom brought it with her for our weekly ‘Pick Tim Apart’ meeting. It was productive. I got pasta salad and she only threatened to smack me with my folder three times.” He leaned against the counter heating the food up in the microwave. He popped a few advil as he took a long drink of milk, after fishing a glass out of the cupboard, rolling his eyes at Julie’s applause.
“All that and you remembered a glass.”
“You know one of these days I will get my payback on you brat.”
“I am not a brat - you however, it’s firmly established.” She turned as she heard someone come in through the garage, “Hello?”
“hey Jules, Tim…” Tami set her bags on a bar stool and took in the scene before her, Tim making leftovers, homework for both him and Julie on the table and Gracie sleeping in her play pen in the living room - everything seemed to be going the way it had been all year. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked over at Tim, “How’s it going Tim?”
“Julie is mocking my History paper topic and I am cleaning out your leftovers. So, pretty good.” He shrugged, “Same old same old…”
Tami grinned, “At least someone is cleaning them out. I am going to get comfortable. How do taco’s sound for dinner. Since Tim is here….” She shot him a look, “And I KNOW he likes to help…”
“I never should have made y’all my guacamole…but I don’t want to intrude Mrs. Coach.” Tim said with a small grin, “You don’t have to feed me every day I come over to do homework.”
Tami waved him off, “You don’t need to worry about that. Eric likes having another guy around, so just nod, smile and the ingredients for your guacamole are in the fridge…” She headed in to change and Tim shook his head.
Who would have thought that one of the lowest times in his life would have brought this? The teasing with Julie, the banter with Mrs. Taylor, and something with the coach he had never expected - respect. His time he had spent with the Taylor’s had been intense. He had made mistakes - but now they were private jokes and … he shook his head and turned back to the fridge to start digging out the items he needed for the dip.
“C’mon Blondie - you can cut the onion.”
“How did I get roped into this? This is your dip.” Julie got up and headed for the kitchen anyway, “You know - you COULD make a double batch if you wanted to…Just saying.”
“You are gonna have to ask nicely for that Taylor.” Tim smirked at her, making her roll her eyes and come into the kitchen to help, “What? No polite request? Single batch it is then…”
Julie sighed and bumped him with her hip, “You know you could try being a gentleman and just MAKING a double batch.”
“Right. ‘Cause that is what I am all right. A gentleman.” Time nodded, fighting to keep a straight face, “I know when I hear the rumors and such around town that that is EXACTLY what they call me.”
Julie paused and shot him a lok out of the corner of her eye, mentally bashing the town for just not getting it. Not that she had been much better. She had written him off too. Before he had come to stay with them. Before the tornado. Before he had taken on her father’s wrath for a kiss and a night that was completely her fault. Before the studying and actually getting to know him. Not that they were best friends by any means, but they were friends. Sort of. She had actually spent a lot of time thinking on this and she wasn’t really sure what they were.
They studied together, when she needed a break from girl drama at lunch she could sit with him and the other’s players, he saved her backside when she got in over her head, he was a great listener and sounding board. She stopped chopping onions and waited for him, biting her lower lip and then just speaking her mind, “So Tim…”
“Julie….”
“I have a question - are we friends?”
The knife that was slicing through avocado paused and shoulders shrugged, “I dunno….I guess so?” He hadn’t really thought about it much. He liked her, she was funny, smart and didn’t mind his silence. She was a HUGE reason his GPA was up - well that and Mrs. Coach and his fear of her wrath and thus Coach’s wrath. He just felt - GOOD in this house and around her. Beyond that he really didn’t think about it much.
“What brings out the deep questions Taylor?”
“Well, you are making The Guacamole and I couldn’t help but think - this is a REALLY different Tim Riggins than I think most people around here know…” Julie turned and leaned against the counter, “It just made me start thinking.”
“the last time you started thinking I ended up chaperoning your photographer friend at a footballgame.” Time started mixing everything together and Julie started putting things away or into the sink, “What is really bringing all this on?”
“Well…” Julie was interrupted by the reappearance of her mom.
“Alright y’all….Tim, can you start the grill? Coach got waylaid by boosters.” She rolled her eyes as the two teens winced. Julie because she would have hated that and Tim because he was involved with the team and knew how intense those ‘accidental’ meetings with a booster could be.
He as on his way out to start the grill when he paused in the doorway, “Riggins, I will make you a bet in regards to this paper of yours - if there re more than three papers on the Alamo I win and you have to owe me a favor and if there aren’t - you win and I will run interference for you with that new Rally girl.”
Tami rolled her eyes, “Really Jules? It’s a good topic.”
Tim smirked, “You are on Taylor. You are on.” He closed the door behind him on his way out to the patio to start the grill. Tami looked at her daughter and shook her head.
“Jules, he is WRITING a paper without me having to hold football over his head. Can’t we just be happy?” She put her hands on her hips and looked her daughter in the eye. Julie just shrugged.
“But really mom…the ALAMO? Can you get more cliché?”
“Honey, it’s Tim. Small academic victories.”
Julie just shrugged and licked the spoon Tim had been using to make the guacamole, “Why settle for small ones?” Her eyes twinkled at her mom, “A challenge, a bet - maybe it will make them more moderate sized victories.”
Character: Tim Riggins, Julie Taylor, and various other characters
Rating: T
Summary: AU from Season Two on...Tim and Julie have an easy relationship. Friends. In an effort to make him improve more academically Julie starts a series of bets - but what will the final prize be to the wagers they both start setting?
Desperate times called for desperate measures - and times were desperate. Julie looked at the teenage boy sharing the breakfast table with her, and narrowed her brown eyes, her pencil tapping on her lower lip thoughtfully. Her dad’s star full back was glowering at his chem lab write up as if it had somehow damaged his honor. She shook her head and closed her history book, “Alright Riggins, I promise you that the table of elements is NOT out to destroy you. What seems to be the issue.”
“Listen Taylor - this class and your mother’s insistence that I take it was a slave driver - are enough to drive me crazy. Did I somehow offend your mom?” His drawl had lost a bit of it’s normal easy roll, getting an edge to it that normally wasn’t there. Making her smirk and roll her eyes again.
“Welcome to my world Riggins - welcome to my world.” She moved around the table and plopped next to him and looked at his papers and the lab workbook, “Okay, you have Your results flipped.”
“This is why…”
“Rally girls aren’t an option Riggins. And I KNOW you know this - because I was there during your make up lab. You aren’t an idiot. So stop playing the role and get your homework done.” Julie grinned at him, and Tim was reminded of just how scary the Taylor women were, “Take your time.”
He ran his hands through his hair, “Alright - But what do I get?”
“What do you get…oh…as a reward?” Julie made a HUGE show of looking very thoughtful, “How about not having my Mom and Mr. Gustaine riding your ass? That could be an AWESOME reward.”
He nudged her chair with his foot, “I think I liked you better when you were intimidated and rarely spoke you know that…”
Julie grinned, “Well, then you shouldn’t have lived with us so I didn’t get to know you Timothy Riggins. You and your love of Oprah and your man-crush on Patrick Swayze.” Her eyes twinkled at the fullback as it was his turn to roll his eyes and then he shrugged.
“Patrick would do my lab write up for me…he is a giver…you can just tell.”
“Not if he met my mother he wouldn’t.” She flipped through his history notebook and shook her head, “I swear I have no idea how you read this chicken scratch.” She didn’t look over at his chuckle, she could hear his pencil working on the paper and didn’t want to distract him, so she flipped through the notebook some more, “TELL me this is a joke - you are not doing your history paper on the Alamo. Tim, PLEASE tell me you are being more original than that.”
“You know what Taylor…bite me.”
“Riggins, I would but I don’t want the Rally Girls to come after me for hurting the big bad 33.”
“You found my secret weakness - bites from bratty blondes.”
“That write up done yet?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you had best get to work or I am going to substitute your burger tonight for a soy burger.”
“Sadist.”
“I am a Taylor.”
“…valid point.”
“And you aren’t doing the Alamo as your paper. I refuse to allow it.”
Tim poked her with the eraser end of his pencil, “And just how do you plan on stopping me? Last time I checked you are rather short and underweight for stopping me.” He raised a dark brow, his lips curling into a familiar smirk, “Unless you plan on playing dirty.”
The blonde sniffed and raised her nose a bit in the air, “I don’t have to play dirty - because I play smart. Brat.”
He burst out laughing - a real, deep laugh, “What did you just call me?”
“A brat. It’s what you are.”
“…I don’t know what you could mean. And I can’t remember the last time someone called me that. Usually if it starts with a ‘b’ it’s a bit longer and ends with a ‘d’.”
“That’s because most people aren’t lucky enough to get to see this bratty side of you.” Twirling a blonde curl around her finger, she snagged he workbook he slid her way, “See? You take your time and you know what you are doing.”
He shook his head and stood, wincing as he stretched, “I am grabbing a water and that gel pack from the fridge - want anything?”
Julie frowned thoughtfully watching him make his way to the fridge, stiffness to his usual rolling gait, “How hard did you get hit at practice today anyway? Want some Advil?” She knew from watching him - it took a lot to bring Tim down - and that was due to practices where literally he drug over half of her father’s defensive line up and down the field. And while he rarely let anyone see the effect that had on him - there were days like today when it was just enough to dive him over the edge. And he would to sore to hide it.
“If you have some Advil that would be great, and you don’t want to know how hard I got hit. Let’s leave it at - it was hard enough.”
She heard the clinking of the bottles as the door to the fridge opened and then his chuckle, “Oh, I think your mom loves me - I really do.”
“The beer is my dad’s - not yours.”
“Not the beer smartass - there are leftovers in here…other than your dad’s chili.”
“Yeah, we destroy the chili left overs. Yeah, those are there for you - or as she likes to call you ‘The bottomless pit of Dillon.’” Julie said, as she padded down the hallway, calling the last bit over her shoulder with overly exaggerated air quotes.
The football player snorted, “She thinks I can eat she should see a defensive player eat. She would be THRILLED that it’s just me that she is feeding. Is anyone wanting this leftover buffalo chicken casserole stuff?”
“You know we are eating dinner in like an hour right?” Jule said setting the bottle on the table and looking at him like he was nuts, “Like a FULL meal.”
Time just looked at her, “And your point?”
“My point is…you know what - never mind my point. I don’t think I actually have one.” She rested her chin on the palm of her hand, “I think there is some of that pasta salad in there too if you want it.”
“I ate that yesterday - your mom brought it with her for our weekly ‘Pick Tim Apart’ meeting. It was productive. I got pasta salad and she only threatened to smack me with my folder three times.” He leaned against the counter heating the food up in the microwave. He popped a few advil as he took a long drink of milk, after fishing a glass out of the cupboard, rolling his eyes at Julie’s applause.
“All that and you remembered a glass.”
“You know one of these days I will get my payback on you brat.”
“I am not a brat - you however, it’s firmly established.” She turned as she heard someone come in through the garage, “Hello?”
“hey Jules, Tim…” Tami set her bags on a bar stool and took in the scene before her, Tim making leftovers, homework for both him and Julie on the table and Gracie sleeping in her play pen in the living room - everything seemed to be going the way it had been all year. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked over at Tim, “How’s it going Tim?”
“Julie is mocking my History paper topic and I am cleaning out your leftovers. So, pretty good.” He shrugged, “Same old same old…”
Tami grinned, “At least someone is cleaning them out. I am going to get comfortable. How do taco’s sound for dinner. Since Tim is here….” She shot him a look, “And I KNOW he likes to help…”
“I never should have made y’all my guacamole…but I don’t want to intrude Mrs. Coach.” Tim said with a small grin, “You don’t have to feed me every day I come over to do homework.”
Tami waved him off, “You don’t need to worry about that. Eric likes having another guy around, so just nod, smile and the ingredients for your guacamole are in the fridge…” She headed in to change and Tim shook his head.
Who would have thought that one of the lowest times in his life would have brought this? The teasing with Julie, the banter with Mrs. Taylor, and something with the coach he had never expected - respect. His time he had spent with the Taylor’s had been intense. He had made mistakes - but now they were private jokes and … he shook his head and turned back to the fridge to start digging out the items he needed for the dip.
“C’mon Blondie - you can cut the onion.”
“How did I get roped into this? This is your dip.” Julie got up and headed for the kitchen anyway, “You know - you COULD make a double batch if you wanted to…Just saying.”
“You are gonna have to ask nicely for that Taylor.” Tim smirked at her, making her roll her eyes and come into the kitchen to help, “What? No polite request? Single batch it is then…”
Julie sighed and bumped him with her hip, “You know you could try being a gentleman and just MAKING a double batch.”
“Right. ‘Cause that is what I am all right. A gentleman.” Time nodded, fighting to keep a straight face, “I know when I hear the rumors and such around town that that is EXACTLY what they call me.”
Julie paused and shot him a lok out of the corner of her eye, mentally bashing the town for just not getting it. Not that she had been much better. She had written him off too. Before he had come to stay with them. Before the tornado. Before he had taken on her father’s wrath for a kiss and a night that was completely her fault. Before the studying and actually getting to know him. Not that they were best friends by any means, but they were friends. Sort of. She had actually spent a lot of time thinking on this and she wasn’t really sure what they were.
They studied together, when she needed a break from girl drama at lunch she could sit with him and the other’s players, he saved her backside when she got in over her head, he was a great listener and sounding board. She stopped chopping onions and waited for him, biting her lower lip and then just speaking her mind, “So Tim…”
“Julie….”
“I have a question - are we friends?”
The knife that was slicing through avocado paused and shoulders shrugged, “I dunno….I guess so?” He hadn’t really thought about it much. He liked her, she was funny, smart and didn’t mind his silence. She was a HUGE reason his GPA was up - well that and Mrs. Coach and his fear of her wrath and thus Coach’s wrath. He just felt - GOOD in this house and around her. Beyond that he really didn’t think about it much.
“What brings out the deep questions Taylor?”
“Well, you are making The Guacamole and I couldn’t help but think - this is a REALLY different Tim Riggins than I think most people around here know…” Julie turned and leaned against the counter, “It just made me start thinking.”
“the last time you started thinking I ended up chaperoning your photographer friend at a footballgame.” Time started mixing everything together and Julie started putting things away or into the sink, “What is really bringing all this on?”
“Well…” Julie was interrupted by the reappearance of her mom.
“Alright y’all….Tim, can you start the grill? Coach got waylaid by boosters.” She rolled her eyes as the two teens winced. Julie because she would have hated that and Tim because he was involved with the team and knew how intense those ‘accidental’ meetings with a booster could be.
He as on his way out to start the grill when he paused in the doorway, “Riggins, I will make you a bet in regards to this paper of yours - if there re more than three papers on the Alamo I win and you have to owe me a favor and if there aren’t - you win and I will run interference for you with that new Rally girl.”
Tami rolled her eyes, “Really Jules? It’s a good topic.”
Tim smirked, “You are on Taylor. You are on.” He closed the door behind him on his way out to the patio to start the grill. Tami looked at her daughter and shook her head.
“Jules, he is WRITING a paper without me having to hold football over his head. Can’t we just be happy?” She put her hands on her hips and looked her daughter in the eye. Julie just shrugged.
“But really mom…the ALAMO? Can you get more cliché?”
“Honey, it’s Tim. Small academic victories.”
Julie just shrugged and licked the spoon Tim had been using to make the guacamole, “Why settle for small ones?” Her eyes twinkled at her mom, “A challenge, a bet - maybe it will make them more moderate sized victories.”