A/N: They're still not mine.
2 - 1999
She starts seeing Teddy during Deacon's fourth stint in rehab. Before he leaves she has Coleman bring him by their favorite spot down by the river, and while Coleman waits in the car she holds his hand and tells him that she can't do this anymore. She explains that she loves him, but there are three parties in their relationship between him, her and his alcoholism; she suggests that maybe he needs to figure out where he stands with the one before he can deal with the other. After driving home and pouring herself an ironic glass of whiskey (the taste reminds her of him), she is awake sobbing over half the night.
So when Tandy suggests again that Rayna meet her friend Teddy, an upwardly mobile suit with political connections, Rayna is finally broken enough to agree. She had originally agreed to the date only to placate her sister; Deacon was persona non grata and Tandy had finally half-convinced her that maybe she deserved more for herself. But behind his stuffed-shirt exterior she finds that Teddy is considerate and affectionate and never takes her company for granted. He treats her with deference – and not the deference people usually use when interacting with celebrities, but the deference a gentleman should pay a lady. He calls when he says he will and has not once been late for a date. And while he doesn't stir up the fiery passion that Deacon always has, she finds the predictability and romance attractive nonetheless.
The first time they spend the night together, six weeks after Deacon has left, she actually finds herself crying in the bathroom of the expensive hotel suite Teddy has booked – the picture of romance down to the rose petals strewn on the bed - realizing that it is the first time she has felt cherished in almost eleven years. In a way, Teddy is teaching her to value herself as a woman.
Deacon is out of rehab two weeks later. She doesn't keep the date on her calendar, and he doesn't call her, so when she shows up for rehearsal and he is there, standing by an amp talking to Bucky, her breath leaves her in a giant whoosh. Not once during his stay did she receive so much as a postcard from him and while she realizes it is for the best, there is a part of her that misses him deeply. He is part of the fabric of who she is, and who she has always been. She steels herself with her typical armor – her best Southern Charm Smile with a "devil-may-care" tilt to her head - and approaches them, her confident stride belying the shakiness of her legs.
"Hey, how you doing?" she asks, placing her hand on his shoulder, and Bucky makes himself scarce as Deacon pulls her into a fierce hug. He holds on a little too long, and the familiar scent of him breaks her heart, but she pulls away and smiles brightly and just says, "Good to have you back."
"I missed you Ray," he half-whispers, his voice thick with emotion, but she just keeps smiling.
"It's good to see you doing so well," she answers.
That night she and Teddy have their first serious talk. She tells him more of her history than he probably wants to know, and she expects him to take the easy road – after all, what man wants to date a woman in love with someone else? – but when her steely demeanor cracks, he just puts his arms around her and pulls her into his chest, murmuring words of reassurance in her ear. She is more confused than ever when he starts kissing her neck.
Later that night as she feels Teddy's slow, even breathing spooned up against her bare back, she wonders if he really is too good for her.
As one week passes, and then two, and three, she begins to realize that Deacon has become the man she always knew he could be, the one she could see behind the anger and the drinking and the pills. He is clear-headed and bright-eyed, looking and playing better than he has in years. She can't help but wonder if it is finally their time, right now when she has found such an anchor in another man. When he walks her to her car that afternoon and asks her if he can take her to dinner she answers without hesitating. "Yes."
When he kisses her, she doesn't even try to stop him. It feels like coming home.
That evening she tells Teddy she needs some space to work out her feelings for him and her feelings for Deacon. Teddy doesn't give her his blessing, exactly, but he is mature enough to know that if he tries to hold too tightly it will backfire, so he lets her go.
The next night when Deacon comes to pick her up at their old house, they don't make it much past the front door. It is hot and primal and she has forgotten what it feels like to be so connected to someone else on every level. But as they lay twined in her bed, her thoughts stray to Teddy. When Deacon sees her pensive look and asks her about it, she tells him.
"Babe, I've got to be honest with you. "
"Yeah?" he asks, nuzzling her ear and clearly expecting her to tell him how much she's missed him, or say something truly filthy. Instead she just places her palm against his cheek and bites her lip.
"I've been seeing someone."
He is clearly shocked. "Like seeing someone, seeing someone?" he asks, his eyes wide in hurt and disbelief. She just nods an affirmation. He pulls back and sits up on the side of the bed, stunned. She is expecting anger or yelling, but instead is met with silence.
"Deacon," she starts, but he cuts her off with a sharp look. The silence permeating the room is deafening.
"I've got to get out of here," he finally says quietly.
"Ok," she says softly, and then he is gone. She lies awake for hours until, in the middle of the night, she gets a call from Coleman that Deacon is at his place passed out drunk. She offers to come over and talk to him, to fix it, but Coleman's response hits her like a punch in the gut. "I think it's for the best if you keep some distance now, Rayna." She hangs up the phone and doubles over in a sob.
Six weeks later there is a pink stick. She doesn't think twice – she immediately picks up the phone and dials Teddy, who is at her house 20 minutes later. She explains the whole situation through hiccups and sobs, and while she can see the hurt in his eyes, he is nothing but kind to her, rubbing her back and assuring her it will all be OK.
"We don't know it's not my baby, do we?" he finally asks.
"I guess not," she replies.
"Then it's mine. We'll do a paternity test after it's born, but either way, it's mine." Years later, she will pinpoint this as the moment she fell in love with Teddy.
She nods her agreement. "Deacon can never know."