A/N: Just a bit of light fluffy fluff to celebrate my 20th FFn-iversary. Enjoy!
"Siri, remind me in one year."
"What do you want to be reminded about?"
"Drop another truth bomb on Ted."
Rebecca woke to the soft glow of the sun rising outside her window. She'd beaten her alarm, as usual, and she took comfort in knowing she could face the morning at her own pace. Waking up alone felt comfortable now, too. The freedom she'd felt after leaving Rupert had soon been tainted by a creeping loneliness, a hole she'd tried to fill with a series of questionable relationships, but now she was happy to just be, by herself.
She stretched languidly and reached for her phone, turning off the alarm and thumbing through her notifications: appointments, emails, news alerts… Glancing back up, her brow furrowed in confusion as she paused to actually read the reminder at the top of the list.
Drop another truth bomb on Ted.
Then a laugh bubbled from her lips as she remembered. The day she'd told Ted about her and Sam, muttered it like a dark secret, and he'd been understanding and supportive and just so Ted. He'd joked about her big confession the year before, something so awful she'd thought it unforgivable. It was unforgivable. But he'd forgiven her anyway, and he slipped cheeky references to it into their conversations just often enough to reassure her that he meant it.
See you next year, she'd quipped as they parted, and she'd pulled out her phone as soon as she was outside his office, thinking that he'd be so tickled when she was the one to remember.
But what could she tell him? She hadn't done anything too awful lately, thanks in part, she suspected, to his steadying influence. And after over two years of Biscuits with the Boss, it felt like she'd shared nearly all of herself with him already. Talk of best concerts and favourite movies had gradually evolved to discussions about their childhoods, their parents, their marriages… She hadn't meant to give away so much, but Ted had a way of reading her that meant her stories always told him more than she intended. It had been a shock when she realized that she could read him, too, and it was something neither of them commented on. They just saw each other, and that was the way it was.
Well, she'd think of something.
When Rebecca heard his familiar, upbeat knock at her door, she startled. She'd been absorbed in her work and lost track of time, and now here he was.
Ted breezed in with a "Hiya, Boss," little pink box in hand.
"Good morning, Ted," she beamed, reaching for the biscuits, allowing their fingers to brush in a way that felt natural now.
They slipped into conversation easily, and if he remembered what day it was, he didn't give her any indication of it. Which was good. She wanted to surprise him in his office, to recreate the moments they'd shared there. It was a bit strange, she realized, wanting to revisit them, especially the first one. She'd felt horrible. It had been an absolutely shit day. And yet, he'd turned it all around with three words—forgiveness, freely offered—and she'd felt like a different person once the weight was off her shoulders.
"I feel like I've lost ya, Boss. Somethin' on your mind?"
Rebecca blinked and smiled blankly at him. "What's that?"
"No worries. I understand. You're a powerful, important woman with people to do and things to see. I'll get outta your hair, which looks fantastic today, I might add. Later, gator."
And with that, and some quick finger-guns aimed her way, he was bounding out of the room, leaving her, as usual, a little awestruck in his wake.
It was late afternoon when she found her way down to his office. She'd been thinking about it on and off all day, but she still hadn't come up with anything to confess. She so wanted to make him smile, to make a thoughtful gesture of her own, even if she could never truly compete with him in that department. And despite drawing a blank, her feet seemed to have taken her there by themselves.
He was alone, sitting at his desk, and he looked up at her with interest when she stepped inside.
"Hi, Ted."
She tried to smile at him, but she wasn't sure what expression her face was actually making. She was frozen on the spot, grasping for something to say, when he rose and approached her.
"Hi, Rebecca," he replied, coming to stand in front of her, and she basked in the affection in his eyes, the lines crinkling around them as he smirked at her. "Lay it on me. Bombs away."
Unexpected delight flooded her and suddenly she was laughing, hard, and trying to catch her breath.
"How do you do that? Remember every little thing about people? Is it some kind of bloody superpower?"
She knew what her face was doing now, could feel it forming the one Keeley called 'fond exasperation' when she'd pointed it out. (Keeley had also pointed out that she made it most often for him.)
"Aw, heck, since we're sharin' secrets today, I might as well tell you one of mine. I write it all down. Well, type. Tap? Actually, sometimes I dictate, though Siri doesn't love my accent. Anyway, it's all there on my phone, and my laptop, and floatin' around in the cloud…"
He'd ducked his head a fraction as he rambled, like he was a bit embarrassed to admit that he didn't magically remember every detail about every person he'd ever met, and Rebecca laughed again.
"Your secret's safe with me, Ted."
Then they were just standing there again, smiling at each other, and Rebecca marvelled at how he could always put her at ease.
"Honestly, I'm not sure what to say," she stalled. "I don't know how I could possibly top the last two…"
"Ooh, lemme try. Let's see… You're sellin' the club back to Ol' Rupe? No, no, nope… You had a torrid affair with Keeley? Nah, you two'd never do that to Roy… You've never really liked my biscuits and just play along to spare my feelings?"
"I fucking love your biscuits and don't you ever joke about that," she interrupted, a little more forcefully than she intended, but he just kept on smiling his infuriatingly cheerful smile, his ridiculous moustache twitching with suppressed amusement.
"You're gonna fire me and send me back to the States once—"
"I fucking love you and…"
Shit.
Rebecca felt the flush rising in her cheeks, felt her skin heat with embarrassment, and closed her eyes against it. She hadn't meant—it was just… She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing, closer than last year. She could smell his aftershave, and almost feel the warmth of his body, and—
"Love ya too, Boss. I was just kiddin'."
She opened her eyes and met his, sparkling with mirth and maybe something else. They were always so soft when he looked at her, and she wondered if she just imagined it…
"I'm still waitin', though. Don't leave me hangin'." After a long moment, his expectant look retreated a little, like he was consciously smoothing his face back to a more neutral expression. "If you want, of course. No pressure. I just appreciate you rememberin'."
"I love you."
"Boom! There it is!"
God, she was mortified. Where did that come from? Three hundred and sixty-five days ago she was spilling her guts to him about her confused mess of feelings for Sam and now she was blurting out a confession she didn't even realize was true until the words were tumbling unbidden from her mouth. Sure, she loved him, but she didn't think she loved him like, like that. And he was still just smiling that same fucking genuine, Ted Lasso smile.
"Why are you not freaking out? Oh, God, this is where you let me down easy, isn't it? I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
She was beginning to spiral when she felt Ted's hand on hers, calm and perfectly still. As the tension bled from her and her clenched fist loosened, he laced their fingers together, then pulled her into a hug with his other arm.
"Hey. No backsies at Confessions with the Coach. This is a safe space."
Rebecca let out a laugh that was too close to a sob, let her head drop to his shoulder, burying her face in the soft wool of his jumper. She twitched her hand in his and Ted gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it and wrapping that arm around her too.
"And I got nothin' to freak out about. My gut, my heart, and my head are all in agreement. Not to mention I've been workin' on that with Doctor Jack, as you well know."
"You talk to your therapist about me?" she asked. Her voice was muffled by his clothing and she still hadn't settled on laughing or crying.
"Well, I was referring to my anxiety, but heck yeah I do! I'm supposed to share what's on my mind with him, and that's you a whole lotta the time."
"Oh. Well."
Her hands had worked their way around to his back and he felt steady and solid in her arms.
"Well."
She raised her head a fraction and pressed a kiss into the side of his neck, just above his collar, and he tightened his arms around her in return.
"This is by far the best Confessions with the Coach yet. I'm afraid you've set a darn high bar for yourself for next year, 'Becca."
"I'd better set a repeating reminder, then."
"Don't worry 'bout it, Siri, I got one already. It's a date. Can't wait."