A/N- I am the absolute worst. Slow as molasses. I have no excuse, other than normal life things. I do promise that I won't let this fic go forever-unfinished. I only have a couple more chapters in my head, so with any luck I can bang those out faster than I've done the previous ones. My sincerest thanks for reading.

Chapter 4:

Lyla is stretched out on a yellow, checkered blanket, picking at the variety of BBQ specialties spread out before her. Surrounding her is a sea of other blankets, each one occupied by members of the Dillon community. The soundtrack of the afternoon consists of people laughing, food sizzling, beer slurping and every so often a random firecracker bursting overhead.

Fourth-of-July, Dillon-style.

THWAP!

"Hey, watch it!"

Lyla jumps as an unwelcome object lands in her meal, splattering it all over the clean blanket. She wrinkles her nose in disgust as she removes the offending object and turns her accusing gaze onto the two male figures jogging toward her.

Football. Hardly a day in Dillon that didn't revolve around it. And as much as Lyla has genuine enthusiasm for the sport, she doesn't appreciate it landing in her dinner.

Her younger brother, Buddy Jr., had clearly fumbled a catch. He, at least, has the decency to look apologetic about it. Behind him is the one and only Tim Riggins, who looks decidedly less apologetic. It wouldn't be wrong to describe his expression as amused. Lyla hears Jason, who is seated in his chair beside her blanket, chuckling softly. His plate of food is located safely in his lap, unscathed by wayward footballs.

"Sorry." Buddy Jr. says as he runs over to retrieve the ball. "Fumble."

Lyla arches her brow, handing the mayonnaise-covered ball over to her brother, along with a napkin to wipe up the mess. "Yeah, fumble is right."

Buddy Jr. smirks just a tad as he turns to jog back in the opposite direction. Lyla turns to meet Tim's laughing gaze, "You'd better kick the training up a notch, Riggins. I think you're taking it too easy on butterfingers, over there."

Tim winks at her without missing a beat. "Work in progress, Lyla. Just you wait. I promised I'd turn Little Garrity into Panther material. Failure is not an option."

With that, Tim turns and chases after Buddy Jr. barking orders all the while.

Lyla has to laugh at Tim's coaching technique. She'd been subject to it herself at last year's Powderpuff game. Truth be told, she thought he was a pretty great coach. Just the right amount of drill sergeant mixed in with his natural charisma. She can imagine him following in Coach Taylor's footsteps someday.

"How did that come about, exactly?" Jason pipes in with a curious grin.

"Not sure. I bet my dad had something to do with it." Lyla replies distractedly. She is still admiring "Coach Riggins" as he mercilessly tackles her brother to the ground. Smiling to herself, she finally turns to clean up the mess he and his pupil had left in their wake.

Jason observes her quietly, munching on his burger. "Tim's been at your place a lot lately."

It wasn't asked as a question, and yet Lyla feels like Jason is fishing for an answer of some kind. Mostly, because he is.

"I think he spends more time at your place then at his own house."

She shrugs noncommittally, "Yeah, I guess. He's been helping with some of the packing and stuff. Maybe my mom should start paying him."

Jason smiles knowingly and she chooses to ignore his smug look.

"Tim can he helpful when he wants to be." Jason pauses before landing his not-so-subtle point. "I mean, it's obvious that he wants to be… helpful. To you, in particular."

Lyla stiffens a little at Jason's words, giving him a warning look. "Jason, don't."

She doesn't disagree with his sentiment, but she isn't entirely comfortable having a conversation about it. She much prefers keeping her thoughts about Tim to herself.

And what exactly are those thoughts? Well, she certainly knows Tim well enough to know that he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. His availability and helpfulness towards her family the last few weeks, is an obvious excuse for him to spend time with her. She can't deny that fact, and frankly, she doesn't want to deny it. If he hadn't been making excuses to see her, she would probably find herself doing the same.

Jason leans forward in his chair, switching to a more sincere tone. "Lyla, I'm not trying to be nosey."

"That's exactly what you're doing."

"Yeah, I guess I am." He lets out a guilty chuckle, without averting his gaze. "But I've earned the right to be."

"So, what's your point?"

"I don't know. I guess I just know how Tim feels about you. So, I was wondering if all the time you've been spending with him is because you're gonna give him a shot, or because you need a handyman around the house?"

Lyla feels her jaw drop open just a bit. She almost can't believe what Jason is saying to her. Or, maybe she can believe it. Despite everything that had happened over the years, Jason and Tim were best friends—and they were both her friends as well. Jason had found happiness for himself with a woman that he loved and a baby due any day. Therefore, his words are not laced with jealousy or judgment, but with genuine concern.

Why not give him a shot? That would never be a simple question, because of who Tim is and what he represents. Resident hedonist. Slacker. Takes nothing seriously.

But still, the question keeps nagging at her. He cares enough to be a good friend. She enjoys spending time with him. And, then there is the chemistry. It had always been there, but wasn't always easy to ignore. Even while she is calling him her friend out loud, she often can't stop her thoughts from straying to less platonic places.

"You are being nosey." She meets Jason's gaze head on. "I know, okay? How Tim used to feel—"

"You mean how he still feels." He corrects her. "Don't kid yourself, Lyla. Just be honest about it."

"Fine." She grits out, trying to find the most honest answer she is comfortable with vocalizing. Meanwhile, her stomach had dropped at Jason's confirmation that Tim's feelings for her were still very much alive and in the present tense. As if she didn't already suspect as much. "Maybe I do know how he feels."

"Glad we cleared the ridiculously obvious part up. What about the not-so-obvious part?"

Lyla lets out a defeated sigh. She can tell that Jason is amused by the fact that she is being so coy. Even if she isn't answering his question with words, she is giving him a pretty decent set of clues as to her feelings where Tim is concerned. It is, in fact, encouraging his persistent line of questioning. If she really felt nothing for Tim, this conversation would not be happening at all.

"Maybe. I just… I don't know. This is Tim we're talking about."

Jason doesn't look at all surprised by her admission. "Yeah, well, I've never seen him as dedicated to anything as he is to being with you."

"He's not with me."

"Exactly my point."

She follows his gaze to where Tim is still showing Buddy Jr. the finer art of tackling.

She laughs as she watches her younger brother launch himself at Tim's steadfast figure, only to bounce off and land on his rear end. Turning her attention back toward Jason. "Okay. Now that you're done prying into my life, I think it's my turn to return the favor."

Jason gestures to his empty plate as he starts to wheel his chair backwards, away from her blanket. "Actually, I need another burger. Guess your inquisition is going to have to wait!"

"Coward!" She calls after his rapidly retreating form.

Lyla stands up, stretches out her limbs and jogs over to where Buddy Jr. is now chugging a bottle of water, and Tim is shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Real men chug beer, not water."

"Tim!" Lyla swats Tim's bicep as she comes up behind him. She can see that he was joking, but it still isn't the best advice to give to an impressionable teenager. "Are you about done corrupting my baby brother?"

Tim's mischievous smile widens, "It's what I do best."

"I know." She returns his smile, and feels the now all-too-familiar fluttering sensation in her stomach whenever he is in close proximity. The one that makes those un-friendship-like thoughts enter her brain so often. "Why don't you guys take a break for now?"

Buddy Jr. looks relieved, nodding enthusiastically. Clearly he's had enough of Tim's intensive training session. As her brother hightails it in the other direction, Lyla continues to gaze appreciatively at Tim. She admires his taught muscles and the slight sheen of sweat that clings to them. She thinks about how tempting it is to step closer, wrap her arms around him and-

"Fireworks!"

"What?" She replies dumbly, feeling her face flush from her brief foray into fantasyland. He had said something to her and she hadn't even registered it.

He chuckles, taking her hand and pulling her back toward her blanket. "I said… it's almost time for the fireworks."

"Oh, yeah…"