Warning: Contains references to spanking.

Disclaimer: No recognisable characters or settings belong to me.

"HENRY: Just don't rat on another Reagan, that's the only rule.

EDDIE: Even to another Reagan?

JAMIE: That's not ratting, that's just , collective bargaining .

DANNY: That's payback .

ERIN: Testifying .

HENRY: Tough love .

FRANK: Tradition .

"9x17 "Two-Faced""

2018

"Collective bargaining?" Eddie asked. "I feel like there's a story."

"It's actually Joe's story," Jamie said.

There was the slight quietness that always settled over the Reagan table at the mention of his name. But Jamie continued quickly.

"But he used to love teasing me with it, so I'm certain I can tell it as well as he did..."

1993

"Dad," Jamie said, about halfway through dinner, sucking on a spoonful of mashed potatoes with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Is it always bad to get a failing grade in school?"

Joe had the very unhelpful urge to reach across the table and strangle his little brother. He fixed his gaze on the plate in front of him, poking irritably at a piece of chicken. The drumstick slid across his plate, and he barely managed to keep it from jumping the edge and splattering gravy all over the clean table cloth.

"Most of the time," Dad said after he'd chewed and swallowed his own mouthful of food. "D'ya know why?"

Jamie pondered for a minute.

"Because it means you're not putting in the work," Danny supplied in a stage-whisper. He was in his usual spot, between Mom and Jamie. Jamie was next to Dad, while Mom was at the other end of the table next to Danny. Joe was alone on his and Erin's side of the table tonight. She'd gone to Stacey Johnson's for a movie and a sleepover.

Jamie scowled.

"I know that!" he said heatedly. "I'm just thinking of all the possible reasons."

Danny reached out one hand to ruffle his hair, while he scooped another piece of chicken from the pan with the other.

"I'm sure you do, chuckles. Go on then, tell us."

"Well, it's like Danny said. You were lazy and you didn't study. And that's bad. But there might be good reasons too, right? You might fail because you don't understand the work. Or maybe the teacher didn't explain exactly what you had to study for the test, and then you fail."

Dad exchanged an amused look with Mom over the length of the table.

"You've sure given this a lot of thought, hon," Mom said. "Don't tell me you're worried about failing something?"

"Oh, it isn't me I'm worried about," Jamie said. "But you haven't answered, Dad. Are those last ones good reasons?"

"Well, it still depends on some things, son. You might still get in trouble if you fail because you didn't understand the work."

"Why, though? It's not your fault if you don't understand."

"But you should have asked for help," Danny said, grimacing slightly. "You know how Dad always asks at Sunday dinner if we've finished our homework and if there's anything we struggled with? You'd have to lie then to keep on struggling with something bad enough to fail a test or something."

"Mm," Jamie said, and Joe found bright, calculating eyes turned on him.

"But, if you fail because the teacher told you to study the wrong thing, then it's okay?"

"I guess so," Danny looked at Dad, who nodded.

"Is it, Dad?" Jamie persisted.

"Yes, Jamie. That isn't within your power."

Jamie looked positively triumphant.

"There, Joey," he said. "You don't have anything to worry about, then!"

Danny snorted, shooting Joe a look of mingled humour and sympathy. Joe dropped his head onto his arms and groaned.

"Joe?" Dad asked. "What's Jamie talking about?"

There was really no getting out of it now, and Joe straightened his shoulders, trying to look Dad in the eye as squarely as possible. It wasn't easy, because his cheeks were flaming and tension was constricting his throat.

"I failed algebra, Dad. Miss Rathbone told us to study one chapter and then she tested the other. Or, at least, me and half the class thought she said the one chapter, and she and the other half of the class are sure she said both. She agreed to not let it count for our year mark, though."

"Good old Rathbone," Danny said. "She's a brick."

"When was the test?" Dad asked, because Dad was perceptive like that.

Joe looked down at the tablecloth, wishing he could crawl underneath it and just not come out again.

"Last Monday."

"Sorry?"

"Last Monday, Dad."

"Oh, Joe," Mom said, and Dad sighed.

Jamie, busy with a chicken wing in one of his grubby fists, looked between the two of them and then at Joe.

"But Joe didn't know!" he said. "Dad! His teacher said to study the wrong thing, you just said he wouldn't be in trouble for it!"

"It's not about that, Jamie," Joe said tiredly. "I didn't tell, see? I lied about everything being okay at school when it wasn't."

Jamie looked stricken.

"I didn't mean to rat you out, Joey, honest! You were so worried about it, and I just wanted to help."

Danny put an arm around Jamie, whose eyes were starting to look suspiciously wet. He gave Joe a warning look, but Joe wasn't angry at Jamie anyways. In a way, it was a relief to finally have things in the open.

"That's okay, Jamie, I know you were just trying to help."

Later, after Dad and Joe had discussed the whole thing in much more detail than Joe thought strictly necessary, and Dad had impressed upon him in a rather unpleasant way that he wasn't to try and hide things from his parents, and there had been much tears and hugging, Joe was lying face down on his bed.

His door creaked open and a moment later he felt a small body crawl onto the bed beside him. He lifted up his arm and tucked Jamie into his side, giving him a lopsided smile.

"What's up, squirt?"

"I really thought I was helping," Jamie said in a small voice. "I'm really sorry you got in trouble, Joey."

"You didn't get me in trouble, you little idiot. It had to come out sooner or later. I'm actually quite glad you spared me the stuttering and stammering."

Jamie grinned a bit.

"But I really thought collective bargaining was a good strategy."

"Collective bargaining?" Joe snorted. "Where did you get that from, kid?"

"I read about it in a book. But I don't think what I tried to do was actually collective bargaining, was it?"

"No," Joe snorted again, hugging his little brother close. "It sure isn't, but that's what I'm calling it from now on!"

2018

"So it's not actual collective bargaining?" Eddie seemed disappointed. "Here I was, imagining you guys forming a little union. Holding meetings with Frank to get your bedtimes extended..."

The table full of Reagan's roared with laughter.

"Have you met Frank Reagan?" Erin asked.