So, there's a petition going around to help us get a season 3. I for one am ALL in for that, especially because I am pretty sure a third season = a lot more Rayna and Deacon goodness which can only ever be a good thing. This is the link for anyone else who wants to sign it (with the dots taken out as per the apparent rules!):

www dot thepetitionsite dot com/462/965/943/nashville-season-3/

'So she's not comin' over at all while I'm in town?'

'I wouldn't have thought so, she's really havin' a time of it with Teddy and all. But like I said, I've got it, I know what she wants.' Deacon rolled up his sleeves, a not-so-subtle signal that he was ready to get down to business, and pulled out the notes he'd made with Rayna before she'd taken the girls home.

'I bet you do,' Liam said under his breath, sitting down reluctantly across the table in his industrial apartment.

'What?'

'Nothing man. How is Rayna? Haven't seen her in a while. She only returns my calls when they're about the album.'

'And what else would they be about?' Deacon asked, a little too provocatively. He leaned back in his chair and watched Liam's jaw tense, but he quickly turned it into that smirk he seemed to wear all the time and Deacon wondered what the hell had gone on between him and Rayna, before and after St-Lucia-gate.

'You know - we talk. She confides in me.'

That was almost worse than 'We screwed and I want it again. Could you booty call her for me and turn on the mood lighting on your way out?'

'You talk,' Deacon repeated, trying not to think about whether the screwing part was true, 'right.'

'Look I know you might think we have nothing in common, and I know you think she's too good for me - you're right about that, by the way, she's too good for you too - but we have a connection. Like I said - we talk.' Liam shrugged, but the way he picked at the corner of his notebook moodily gave him away.

Deacon lifted an eyebrow. Liam McGuiness, aloof, cocky Liam McGuiness, had damn well gone and fallen for her. 'Oh, you're fucked,' he said. Liam looked at him and nodded grudgingly, and Deacon laughed, in disbelief rather than amusement. 'Welcome to the club, McGuiness.'

'So you're still…in the club, too?'

'You don't exactly get to revoke your membership. Once you're in, you're in.'

'Great. That's just fucking great. And I don't suppose she's gonna put me out of my misery anytime soon.' Liam sighed, tossing his notebook down. 'So, you, instead of her, coming down here - what does that mean?'

'It means I'm helpin' her out, that's what it means.'

'That all?'

'Yeah, that's all.'

'Then we better get to it.' Liam screeched the legs of his chair on the slate floor as he pulled himself closer to the table and picked up the stereo remote.

/

Two hours and three pots of coffee later, Liam groaned, stretching his hands out above his head and cracking his knuckles.

'I can't just pull something out of my ass. If she thinks there's a disconnect in the middle here, we're gonna have to re-think some of the sound. Or go right back to the drawing board and, I don't know, get some new tracks together to sew this thing up.'

'She isn't happy with the sound as a whole body of work, she doesn't think it's commercial enough. And I gotta say - it's a damn good album, but I think she's right.'

Deacon circled his neck from one side to the other, a little popping sound making him wince. Rayna had called three times, asking how it was going and offering input while the kettle hissed and Daphne chattered in the background. Liam had looked at him hopefully the first time and had eagerly taken the phone when she'd asked to speak to him, his casual tone faltering as he had.

'Deacon doesn't quite have the charm you do,' he'd said in response to her no doubt asking how they were getting on, and Deacon had watched as he'd turned away and adopted a boyish, playful tone with her, picking at a loose thread in his jeans and grinning slackly while he talked.

They'd played the album start to finish, Deacon making notes with a frown of concentration, Liam less resistant than he'd expected, tapping his fingers against his knee to the various rhythms. The sound system in the apartment was impressive, blasting the music around the room and back at them from the high, exposed brick ceilings, and Deacon had closed his eyes, feeling every beat. Rayna's voice twisted through his ears, and for a moment he'd been overwhelmed with happiness that she was involving him, that even though this was the first album she'd made without him, he was still a part of it.

'I can't believe she's seeing Luke Wheeler,' Liam said suddenly when they were on listen number three to the title track, dropping his pen on the table and hitting pause. Deacon huffed in agreement, trying not to picture Rayna with the jackass.

'Doesn't seem like it's stopped you wantin' to swoop on in,' he said.

'Hasn't stopped you either,' Liam challenged, watching Deacon's reaction closely. If he wanted clues, it wouldn't do him any good to get them. Deacon didn't know himself where to start on picking apart the flood of feelings that appeared whenever he thought about Rayna with Luke, and he wasn't about to start discussing the issue with this guy and his 100% cotton neckwear.

'I'm not swoopin' in anywhere. I'm seein' someone. Rayna and I are friends, s'all.'

Liam laughed soundlessly. 'Right, because you and Rayna have ever just been friends.'

Deacon frowned, but he didn't protest it - partly because Liam was right, and partly because he wasn't sure he'd be able to find the conviction to convince even himself that they were 'just friends'.

'Luke Wheeler's an ass,' he said instead.

'You're preaching to the converted there. I don't trust that guy as far as I could throw his dumb cowboy hat. I mean what the hell is Rayna doing with him?'

'I don't know,' Deacon admitted, torn between letting rip with his own disbelief at Rayna's choice of man and keeping quiet for the sake of decency towards her. Luke Wheeler had been sniffing around Rayna since they were all little more than kids, and never would Deacon have thought she'd one day end up giving in to his less than subtle advances. He'd given her more credit than that, but since he'd found out she was seeing Luke, he hadn't said anything, respecting that they were doing this figuring-their-own-shit-out thing, where relationships were concerned, at least.

'He isn't her type,' Liam said, disgruntled. 'He's so… showy. All that "wheels up" crap? Come on man - what a dick. She's got more class than that - I mean she was with you for how long? And I know you shit all over my trip to St Lucia with her, and I might've taken that signed disc of yours I had down off my mantelpiece, but I can see what she saw in you.'

Deacon shifted awkwardly in his chair, not sure whether to feel flattered. 'Well… thanks.' He cleared his throat and peered at Liam. 'Did you really have a signed disc of mine?'

Liam waved a hand in the air and coughed gruffly. 'I mean not on my mantelpiece, but...'

'Right.'

'I sure as hell don't have any signed Luke Wheeler crap.'

'What do you think she sees in him?'

'Big dick?'

'I've taken a leak next to the guy more times than I care to remember, and I can say for damn sure - that's not it.'

Liam, despite himself, grinned. 'I knew those fast cars were a cover up for something.'

'Got that right. Think it's the hat?'

'Oh come on, any guy can wear a hat, it's not the hat…' He paused for a moment, mulling something over with a grimace. 'Think he keeps it on in bed?'

Deacon winced. 'I'd rather not think about Luke fuckin' Wheeler anywhere near Rayna's bed, hat or no hat.'

'Well what the fuck else could it be he's got going for him?'

They lapsed into silence, considering.

'S'pose he's got shiny hair,' Deacon said after a minute.

'Don't I have shiny hair?'

'Actually, yours is shinier.'

'Thanks man - I deep condition, you know?'

'Sure, it shows, I mean, you know.' Deacon looked him over, leaning an elbow on the back of his chair. Liam really did have good hair. Some impressive stuff on the face too. Maybe he should grow a little more facial hair... 'Hey, buddy… Where d'you get your scarves from?'

#

'So Liam didn't mind me not being there?'

'Actually Ray, we got a lot done, had a good chat.'

Rayna stared at Deacon. 'You… and Liam,' she said, drawing the words out, 'had a good chat. About what exactly?'

'You know, stuff. The album, we covered the whole album. He's all good with the changes.'

'He is? Even taking out the riff in the middle of Going Down?'

'Even that.'

Rayna folded her arms and leaned against her kitchen counter, perplexed. 'Maybe I should get you to go to all my meetings, you're obviously better at them than I am.'

'Well, what can I say?' Deacon winked at her, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet. 'Seems me an' Liam got more in common than I thought.'

'Oh? And what might that be?'

He gave her an odd look, his eyes raking over her inquisitively. It wasn't his jealous look, she knew that, but she wondered what on earth Liam had told him all the same and unconsciously pulled her arms a little tighter around herself.

'Nothin'. Seems you've made quite the impression on him though.'

'On Liam?'

Deacon nodded slowly. 'On Liam, on everyone else, yeah,' he said, his eyes on her a second too long.

'Well,' Rayna said, knowing he wasn't going to give her anything but cryptic half-answers as to what he was talking about, 'thank you for going over there for me, Deacon. I really appreciate it. The girls too, they're pretty shaken right now, it helped me bein' able to be at home with them today.'

'Not a problem, you know that. The girls need their mama - and you can make anythin' better, Ray.'

She smiled at him, catching herself as the smallest twist in her stomach threatened to swell, and turning away, reaching for the kettle. 'Can I get you some tea?'

Deacon stood up straighter. 'Actually I gotta get goin', I got dinner plans.' He shifted awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She tried to sound interested and not at all disappointed when she replied, 'Oh, Megan?'

'Yeah.' He picked up his bag and headed for the door, waving a hand at her stiffly and wondering why the hell he'd done it, but the sad tinge beneath her smile stopped him as he reached for the handle, and he took a couple of steps back towards her, hovering under the archway between the kitchen and the hall. 'Um…'

'What is it Deacon?' Rayna looked at him, her head cocked to one side. He loved when she did that; he had no idea why but it tugged at his chest - the lift of her eyebrows, the patient purse of her lips.

'I been thinkin'… this album, it's great, really great, and we can make those changes no problem. But I think it needs…'

'A little somethin' else, huh?' He nodded, and she did too. 'I've been thinkin' the same thing, playin' about with the existing tracks just isn't gonna do it. Actually, I was wonderin' if maybe you might…' She gestured a little too emphatically, and he knew she was nervous to finish her question, so he finished it for her.

'Write with you?'

'Yeah,' she said, beaming at him. 'I was wonderin' if you might write with me Deacon.'

#

There had been pizza crumbs all over the floor, under Deacon's legs and scattered around Rayna like he'd marked his territory with stuffed crust and splashes of pepperoni grease. She'd warned him not to get too close while he'd been shoving slice after slice in his mouth, but he'd ass-shuffled towards her and leaned in to add to some of her lyrics anyway, and she'd enjoyed the familiarity of it too much to send him packing.

She hit the brakes at a stop light on her way home from his house and let her forehead drop onto the steering wheel, groaning loudly. If she was honest with herself, she'd enjoyed more than just the familiarity. She'd enjoyed the way he smelled of the cologne she used to buy him for his birthday, how the corners of his eyes did that Deacon-thing when he was trying not to laugh.

She'd more than enjoyed the way he'd looked at her when he'd sung the words they'd played about with until they'd got them just right - it was true, what he said, it did feel like yesterday. All apart from the unnatural feeling of resistance - resisting leaning over to kiss him, resisting licking the rogue crumb from his stubble and maybe climbing on him and sucking on his bottom lip just to make sure the job was done. If it had really been yesterday her shirt wouldn't have made it to the second verse.

It was so easy to be right back there after so long. It had been more than fifteen years since they'd written together, and yet the lyrics, the melodies, all of it had flowed so freely it would have been startling, if it wasn't so very them. It had hit Rayna somewhere around 'My ass is numb, throw me that cushion,' and 'Thin crust or regular?' that it didn't matter what happened, that chemistry between them was an entity entirely of its own. They could fuck each other and themselves up beyond belief and still, there it was, trying to pull them together. Their attraction was indiscriminate, it knew no secrets or addictions, it cared nothing for harsh words or the tears they'd made each other cry.

Megan walking in had probably been a good thing. It hadn't felt like it, and the unsatisfied knots in Rayna's stomach told her it didn't exactly feel like it now, either, but it was. It wouldn't, she tried to convince herself, be at all wise to linger on what would have happened if Megan hadn't chosen her moment so well - five minutes later and it would have been a very different story.

They were only ever five dangerous little minutes from slipping up. They both knew it; it was why they'd been so careful since the accident not to spend time around each other without other people there, or in a public place where there was safety in numbers and watchful eyes.

And yet they'd managed, for a whole afternoon and a whole song, behind closed doors in an empty house full of memories of breathless sex and affirmations of love, to keep their hands to themselves - it was quite the achievement, really. The undercurrent was there from the moment Rayna had walked in the door, but they'd managed to keep it at arm's length, at least until the last notes had rung through the room and he'd lowered his guitar, and then everything had gone a little soft focus. The pit of Rayna's stomach had felt like she'd swallowed a giant handful of popping candy - five more minutes and she would not be sitting in her SUV on her way to spend too long in the shower.

The car behind blasted its horn and she looked up to see the traffic light on green. It was a damn good song. She hadn't meant to tell him that quite so suggestively as she'd sauntered past him to leave, but it was true - it was a damn good song.

They made some sweet music together, the two of them. Some things just never changed.

'Fuck.'

#

A/N:

Rayna and Deacon writing together was done so perfectly on the show that I didn't want to touch it in detail here. Sooo, instead, in collaboration with my dear friend Anlgsp, an alternative version of Rayna-and-Deacon-write-and-generally-start-eyeball-sex-forest-fires (separate to the continuing narrative of this story), will be posted in the next few days…. And that we did touch. Starting with banishing The Worst Timing Ever Award Goes to Megan, and finishing with a lot less of Rayna's pretty purple blouse, which looks much better on Deacon's floor.