There was a sense that everything was going to be okay. AFC Richmond may have been on the brink of relegation, but there was a new brightness shining on the club, some would call it optimism, others would call it hope. Nature was healing and so was Rebecca Welton who had brought Leslie Higgins back into the fold, and in the same breath had apologised to all the people she had wronged.

But none of them had taken her actions to heart, because hurt people hurt people. The greyhounds were a found family, by no means were any of them perfect, they were works in progress and works in progress made mistakes.

Like thinking that cramming an entire Premier League football team into a small office with the windows and doors shut and blinds drawn, leaving them submerged in darkness was a good idea.

The universal lack of air conditioning in British workplaces didn't help either.

The act was a selfless effort to surprise Nathan Shelley with his new promotion from kitman to assistant coach. So at the time the team thought it would be a great idea to join in on the action, hiding out in Ted and Beard's office to be part of the surprise.

"Is now a bad time to say I'm claustrophobic?" Colin whispered, standing beside Billie as Bumbercatch and Zoreaux peered through the blinds, ready to keep an eye on the action as soon as it started to unfold.

"You didn't think to mention that earlier?" Billie hissed at her friend.

"Will you two be fucking quiet?" Roy huffed, frowning at his sister.

"Guys, please," Sam hushed the group, "You'll ruin it."

Sam was eager for the plan to go to plan, having created the group chat, purchased the confetti cannons and made the whistle box with the help of Billie while they watched Dirty Dancing at his house.

Billie was incredibly dedicated to spreading the Dirty Dancing agenda.

"Hey," Isaac who was at the front of the group clicked his fingers, pointing at the window that overlooked the locker room, before holding up two fingers and then miming his fingers walking like they do in those spy films.

"The fuck does that mean?" Billie whispered.

"Game time," Isaac nodded at Roy.

"Who the hell are you?" The group heard Nate ask the room.

Those at the front of the office, peered through the blinds to see the new young kitman pushing the laundry cart into the locker room.

"Oh, hi, hello!" The young man beamed, holding out his hand to Nate, "I'm Will, the new clubhouse attendant."

"No you're not, I'm the clubhouse attendant," Nate was quick to reply with fear in his eyes, fear that he had been replaced.

"It's like that Spiderman meme," Billie whispered, "The one where they're all pointing at each other."

"What's a meme?" Roy frowned

"Alright, Cillian Murphy, who invited you to the party?" Billie smirked at her brother, never missing an opportunity to reference specific pop culture events.

"Hey, Higgins, where are you?" The group heard Ted's voice as he entered the locker room, acting as though he were on the phone.

"Ted, what the fuck's going on?" Nate asked the coach anxiously.

"I don't know, I'm trying to figure it out myself." Ted answered.

"Figure what out?" Nate replied, "Have I been sacked?"

"Has he been fired?" Ted asked his phone.

Billie and Colin exchanged grins as Higgins entered stage right, "I don't know anything about this, Ted," He looked up to see Ted, "Oh, there you are."

"Is this because I called Isaac a pussy?" Nate asked his coach.

"I don't know, Nate."

Billie and Colin had to stifle their laughter as Isaac shot them both death stares.

"Good morning, everyone," Rebecca entered the room with a sing-song voice.

"You shrew, you did this, didn't you?" Nate remarked.

"Why so hostile, Nathan?" Rebecca frowned, holding a stack of paper.

"Right, I'll tell you why-" Nathan replied before pausing, "You know my name?"

"Well, I had to spell it correctly for your contract," Rebecca smiled, showing him what was printed on the paper in her hands.

"Nate-dawg, you haven't been fired, it's worse," Ted sighed, "You've been promoted!"

Right on cue Bumbercatch lifted the blinds and the team cheered and clapped as they laid eyes on Nate who looked overwhelmingly stunned.

The team made their way out of the office and ran towards Nate, lifting him up in the air in jubilation, cheering, "Nate, Nate, Nate!" As Sam and Richard set off the confetti cannons, filling the room with further chaos.

As Ted and Beard began to harmonise like a church choir the sea of footballers parted as they placed Nate on the box in the middle of the room. In Beard's hands sat a purple box decorated by Billie and Sam, containing the key to Nate's destiny.

"Ooh!" The team hummed in unison as Beard opened the box, revealing the coveted whistle which Ted, as head coach, retrieved.

"Nathan Shelley, I present to you this whistle," Ted told the man, "But it is sad, do you know why? Because it's never been blown."

"Is that the same reason why Colin's sad?" Nate replied.

Amusement faded from Colin's face as Billie nudged him with her elbow and Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"By the power vested in me by the Associative Football Club of Richmond, I now pronounce you Coach Nate," Ted declared, putting the whistle over Nate's head, letting it hang around his neck as the team cheered.

"Thank you guys," Nate smiled before blowing the whistle, which in the confines of the locker room, was the harshest sound anyone had heard.

"Not inside!" Beard exclaimed.

As the chaos continued, Billie weaved her way through the group, approaching the newest kit man, "Welcome to the madhouse, Will."

"Oh, right, thank you for having me," Will nodded with a nervous smile, "Love your work by the way."

"My work?" Billie smiled, having never met anyone who was interested enough in her photography to talk to her about it, "You sound like me that time I met Niall Horan."

"I'm a bit of a photographer myself," Will replied, holding his hand to his chest in pride, "But your work is just on another level, chef's kiss if you will."

"Well, if I ever need an assistant for a shoot, you're top of my list," Billie assured him, "Send me your portfolio."

Will stood in amazement as the woman returned to the rest of the team, feeling giddy with the potential of an opportunity to assist on a photoshoot with Billie. He was definitely going to tell his mum about that.

"It got confusing, 'cause they don't call it jock itch here," Billie looked up from her laptop where she sat at Ted's desk, watching the two coaches amidst their hushed conversation.

She removed her headphones that she had been using while editing a video montage of the boys in training, "I don't know what that is, but it sounds like the sort of conversation I tend to avoid," She told them both with a confused smile.

"We're wrapping up, Billie, don't worry," Ted assured her before looking back at his friend, "What spray did you buy?"

"Mr Muscle?"

Billie looked up from her laptop yet again, "Definitely don't use that on anything that's itchy, that is a terrible-"

Billie's concerned rant was cut off by her brother entering the room, his captain's armband in hand, "Not sure if you know this, but the rules say you gotta pick a new captain."

"Oh," Ted sighed, taking the captain's armband from Roy, "No, sir, you're my captain, that's the rule," Then handing the armband back to Roy.

"No, the captain has to be on the pitch, that's the rule," Roy handed the armband back to the coach.

"I say that the current captain has to pick the new captain," Ted returned the armband to the captain, "That's my new rule."

"Don't want to," Roy threw the armband back to Ted.

"Well, you have to," Ted tossed it back as Billie and Beard watched on as though they were at a grand slam tennis match at Wimbledon.

"I decline."

"I insist."

"Can't make me."

"Roy Kent, until you choose a successor, your duties as captain of this squad remain unfulfilled," Ted replied, doing some sort of trick of the eye routine to make the armband disappear before tossing it and letting it land on Roy's head as Billie and Beard silently screamed.

"This is why it's hard to love you," Roy huffed before leaving the office.

"You heard it, right?" Ted whispered.

"You must be feeling the way I felt when Josh Hutcherson liked my tweet about the second Hunger Games movie," Billie grinned, knowing that words like that meant a lot from her brother.

"He loves you!" Beard hummed in a sing-song voice.

"Getting a love confession from Roy is like getting a Hollywood handshake on the Bake Off," Billie replied, watching the coaches' puzzled frowns, "You get Bake Off in America, right?"

"I think it's called something else." Ted nodded.

"The Great British Baking Show," Beard was quick to reply.

"Guys," Nate appeared at the open door, "I've got a plan."

"Sounds dangerous."

"To motivate the team," Nate replied.

"You gonna tell us what it is?" Ted remarked in intrigue.

"A surprise."

"God, I love surprises." Ted mused.

Billie loved surprises too, she just hadn't concluded if she loved this sort of surprise.

"Alright, gang, here's the unskinny bop," Ted addressed the press room where the team had convened, "Manchester City is coming into our house for the final match, but preparation-wise, we're gonna treat it like it's any other game."

"But it's not just any other game, we could get relegated," Isaac muttered, speaking the truth the rest of the team were too afraid to address.

"We got relegated when I was at Cardiff, it's my family's team, my nana never spoke to me after that," Colin sighed, "She just left me a box of her shit in her will."

"Shit as in stuff, or are we talking shit shit?" Billie turned to the footballer she was sitting beside.

"Not important."

"When clubs go down, teams get broken up," Zoreaux added.

"God, it'll be like One Direction all over again," Billie gasped quietly, turning to Colin, "For the record, you're Niall."

"He's Irish," Colin frowned, "I am Welsh."

"My point still stands."

"Coach, do they not have relegation in America?" Sam asked, keeping the team on track.

"Oh, no, no, no," Ted sighed.

"So what happens to all the shit teams at the end of the season?" Isaac asked.

"They play out the rest of the schedule, going through the motions and meaningless games contented in lifeless, half empty stadiums, and everyone's pretty much fine with that," Ted explained, turning to Beard, "That sound about right, Coach?"

"Yeah, it's dumb."

"Alright, now, Coach Nate-"

Nate took the moment to blow his whistle, deafening the team again as they covered their ears in dismay.

"Not inside!"

"I was saying, now Coach Nate has a video he wants to show," Ted replied as Beard wheeled the TV screen to the front of the room.

"Okay," Nate cleared his throat, "So, um, I thought you'd all find this motivational," Nate pressed play on the video and within a few seconds Jamie Tartt had appeared on screen.

"Amigo Jamie," Dani smiled as Billie sat up straighter.

"Clearly no barbers in Manchester," Colin laughed and Billie noticed that his hair was styled differently, using what she assumed was pomade or wax.

"Well, I'd never say a bad word about me old club," Jamie addressed the interviewer and Billie couldn't help but feel nervous, "Even though I did carry them through every match, but they're good lads, apart from Roy Kent, he is a knob."

Billie glanced along the row at her brother who was frowning, and she couldn't help but smile, even miles apart they were under each other's skin.

"You know, and it's nice to have a real manager like Pep," Jamie continued, "Instead of that American rodeo clown, Lasso sent me away, now they're facing the drop."

It was Billie's turn to frown. If only Jamie knew.

"Sunday, I get to put the final nail in the ashes, instant caramel, it's gonna get ya-"

No one knew if that was the end of the interview because a chair, specifically Isaac's chair collided with the TV screen. The team slowly turned to face him with looks of terror on their faces.

"Oops, innit," Isaac shrugged.

"Well said." Roy nodded.

"Alright, let's go climb that mountain!"

☆ ☆ ☆

"What's on your mind, Bils?" Alfie asked as the pair sat on the sofa in their living room, watching yet another Bridget Jones movie together, "Or should I say, who?"

"I'm not thinking about him." Billie signed, keeping her eyes on the TV.

"So you are thinking about him," Alfie grinned

"You wouldn't have said him if you weren't-"

Billie cut him off before he could finish his sentence by tossing a cushion at him in protest, "You're lucky I like you enough not to throw something solid like a tennis ball at you."

"Do you even own a tennis ball?" Alfie frowned.

"No, but it's simply the principle," Billie replied firmly.

"Just so we're clear, it would be completely cool and okay if you wanted to talk about him-" Billie looked to Alfie with a hard stare, "-No, sure, I'll shut up now."

"Are you coming to this weekend's match?" Billie asked, knowing that she'd be reassured to have her best friend in the same space as her during the match that would decide the team's fate.

"I'm not doing press this weekend, John's got it covered," Alfie told her.

"I could get you a seat in the box if you like?" Billie offered, "You'd be sitting with Rebecca and Keeley because Madds has that family thing this weekend."

"Your brother has been a footballer since before I've known you and we've only sat in the box together once, and now you're telling me you could get me a seat up there while you're working on the pitch?" Alfie rambled in disbelief.

"I want my best friend there, because I don't know how it's going to go, whether we win or lose, I'll either want you there for a hug or to celebrate," Billie told him honestly, because she was scared, scared of what the potential of relegation meant for her brother.

"I'd love to be there, Bils," Alfie assured her, happy to see that his best friend finally had something that truly mattered to her.

"And you'll make sure that whoever's doing the match write up doesn't rinse my brother for being on the bench," Billie muttered nervously.

"I don't control the press, Billie," Alfie sighed with a smile, "But I'll put a good word in."

"Thank you," Billie smiled, glancing down at the news app on her phone which displayed an article regarding the weekend's match. Of course the top photo was a collage of both teams in their respective kits, with Jamie and Roy front and centre.

She didn't want to choose, she knew it was going to be difficult standing on the sidelines, even though Roy was on the bench. She'd grown to care about the whole Richmond team in different ways, in such a short space of time they'd become her family, they'd become her brothers. But she still cared about Jamie, and as much as she needed Richmond to win, she wanted to see Jamie play well, she missed watching him play.

"You gonna get that?" Alfie asked, snapping her out of her daydream.

"What?" She stared at him blankly.

"The door just-" Alfie muttered, "I'll go."

Billie watched as Alfie left the living room and disappeared down the stairs towards the front door. She remained slumped on the couch, her eyes transfixed on Hugh Grant's beautiful 2001 face. She often asked herself how a woman could choose between Hugh Grant and Colin Firth.

"Billie, someone's here to see you," She looked up from the TV at the sound of Alfie's voice to see him standing beside Jamie, who looked as though he didn't know what to do with himself, standing beside Billie's best friend who had most definitely been briefed on everything that had happened between them.

"You watching Bridget Jones?" Jamie glanced at the TV, then back at Billie to which she simply nodded, "It's me mum's favourite."

"I think I can hear my phone...ring, ring, ring, ring," Alfie replied in a sing-song voice, making a quick getaway to leave the pair on their own, "Yeah, I've got to get that, it'll be the office."

Billie watched as Alfie disappeared into his bedroom before looking back at the man she hadn't seen in a month. Who's face she had only seen on her phone and (broken) TV screens.

"Come here, then," She smiled, gesturing for him to join her on the sofa.

He approached her nervously, as though it were their first time alone, as though Alfie were her disapproving father who would return to the room at any moment. But before he could sit down she had stood up impatiently, wrapping her arms around his torso, kissing him tentatively as he placed his hands on her hips, reciprocating the kiss.

"I missed you," Billie grinned against his lips.

"How've you been?" Jamie asked as they say on the sofa, resting his arm on the back of the sofa behind her, his hair still styled the way it was in that video interview that Nate had shown the team, she wasn't entirely sure if she liked it or not.

"You know how I've been," Billie replied, given that they'd been in reasonably regular communication since they last saw each other, and most of those conversations involved Jamie asking Billie questions to distract himself from his father's voice in his head, "How are you?"

"I'm alright," Jamie nodded as he trailed his fingers back and forth across the back of her neck, but his face didn't convince her, he was holding something back.

"Is he still coming tomorrow?" Billie asked.

"Yeah," Jamie sighed, aware of who she was referring to, "He's coming down on the train tomorrow."

"Do you want me to tell security to blacklist him?" Billie asked and Jamie smiled, as though he might consider it, "Then his only option'll be to watch the match in a Richmond pub."

"No, it's alright, that'd only wind him up," Jamie sighed.

"You're gonna be okay, you know that, don't you?" Billie assured him.

"I suppose," Jamie muttered, although he didn't completely believe her.

Billie studied Jamie's face as his eyes remained on the TV, which had been muted, as though he were watching a silent film. It was his favourite scene in the movie, when Hugh Grant and Colin Firth are fighting in the street. As a child he'd ask his mum to rewind the scene so he could watch it again. They'd only watch it when his dad was out at the pub, because he had a few choice words to say to his son if he wasn't watching 'proper lad films'.

"Watching this scene without audio almost makes it better," Jamie sighed with his eyes on the screen before looking at Billie who was already looking at him, "Can you distract me?"

"You want me to distract you?" Billie replied, "From what?"

"You know what," Jamie muttered, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his body, letting his lips brush against hers as his hands threaded through her already messy hair.

Billie hauled herself onto his lap, her legs either side of his as he smirked into their kiss, letting his hands wander down to her hips, pulling her closer if that were even possible. Billie rested her hands on his shoulders, slipping his jacket off of his body.

"Did you hear that?" Billie pulled back at the sound of loud knocking against the front door.

"Hear what?" Jamie mumbled, reconnecting his mouth with Billie's skin as the knocking got louder.

"There's someone at the door," Billie hummed.

"It'll just be people trying to sell you useless shit, they'll leave eventually," Jamie assured her as he continued kissing her.

The knocking came again, and this time Billie climbed off of Jamie's lap, "Right, they're not going anywhere."

"Billie, just leave it, it'll be fine," Jamie called out as Billie made her way down the stairs to her front door.

As she opened the door she laid eyes on her brother and then her niece, "Roy, Phoebe, hi!"

"You're being weird," Roy huffed, a rub of ice cream under his arm.

"Hi, Billie," Phoebe grinned.

"Hi, kiddo," Billie blew her a kiss before looking back at her brother, "Now really isn't a great time, if you want to do this again some other time then-"

"Billie, where do you keep tea bags?" She heard Jamie call out and from the look on Roy's face he heard it too, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow her up.

"The fuck is that?" Roy grunted, brushing past Billie and making his way up the stairs, Phoebe doing the same as Billie quickly closed the door and followed them upstairs.

Roy felt his blood boil as he laid eyes on his least favourite Mancunian footballer standing in his sister's kitchen, "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Making tea," Jamie told him as he stood beside the kettle as it boiled.

"Billie doesn't drink tea," Roy replied.

"I know," Jamie sighed, showing him the contents of one of the mugs which he had already put hot chocolate powder in, "You want one?"

Roy looked at his sister and then at Jamie before looking back at Billie, "What the fuck is this prick doing in your kitchen?"

Phoebe updated the swear tally in her notebook.

"He just dropped by before tomorrow's match, to talk," Billie answered, looking at Jamie with a stern glare before looking back at her brother, "You want a drink? Jamie's making them."

"That Northern prick doesn't know how to make a proper cup of tea," Roy answered.

"Northerners make better tea, that's a fact," Jamie replied as the kettle stopped boiling, "How else do you explain Yorkshire Tea?"

"It's PG tips or nothing, actually," Roy quipped as Jamie focused on making a drink for himself and Billie.

"You want a drink, Phoebe?" Jamie asked.

"No thanks, Jamie, I've got ice cream," Phoebe answered, taking the tub from her uncle and retrieving a handful of spoons from the kitchen drawer, placing them on the table, knowing her auntie and uncle wouldn't be close behind.

"How the fuck do they know each other?" Roy asked his sister.

"Phoebe's a secret Jamie Tartt fan," Billie was quick to answer.

"No she fucking isn't," Roy huffed as he joined Phoebe at the table, retrieving a spoon and taking a scoop from the ice cream tub, "This is all very fucking weird."

Phoebe added another tally.

Jamie handed Billie her mug of hot chocolate before the pair joined Roy and Phoebe at the kitchen table.

"We were talking about the match before you got here," Billie told her brother.

"The match?" Roy frowned.

"Mmhmm," Billie nodded, turning her attention to Jamie, "Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Not gonna say it in front of him," Jamie muttered, with his eyes on Roy.

"He won't say anything," Billie insisted, and she really hoped that Jamie's topic of conversation would be strictly football related, "Will you?"

Roy mimed locking his mouth and tossing the 'key' at Jamie, who moved to the side, muttering, "Missed."

"Jamie, you can tell me," Billie assured him.

"Ted Lasso is trying to play fucking mind games with me," Jamie told her as Phoebe added a new column to her tally for Jamie, "Saying nice shit about me on the telly, trying to get in my head."

"We've been over this, he does like you," Billie assured him as she sipped her hot chocolate.

"The fuck does 'we've been over this' mean?" Roy huffed, wondering where Billie had found the time to discuss Ted Lasso with Jamie.

"We talk," Jamie told Roy, gesturing between himself and Billie.

"Jamie, not everyone in your life is out to get you," Billie assured him, hoping Roy had missed the point about her still being in contact with the striker sitting opposite him.

"I am." Roy replied.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Billie sighed dramatically, "Us four sitting around a table together, feels like we should do this more-"

"It's not nice, Billie," Roy interjected, "It's fucking weird."

Billie looked at Jamie, waiting for him to make a smart comeback, most likely calling Roy old or something similar, but instead he just stared back at her, as though Roy weren't there.

"Well, I've got to get back to me hotel," Jamie stood up, pulling something from his pocket, "I only came to drop this off."

He placed Billie's baseball cap on the table, the hat that she had been wearing on the journey to Liverpool. The hat that she was wearing when she travelled to Manchester, the hat that she wasn't wearing when she returned to Liverpool, because she'd forgotten it in Manchester.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Billie," Jamie smiled at her before looking at Roy, "Enjoy the view from the bench."

Roy looked at his sister and then back at Jamie. Phoebe kept her eyes firmly on her notepad.

"I'll see myself out," Jamie told them before disappearing downstairs, a few seconds later came the sound of the front door opening and closing as Billie kept her eyes firmly on the mug that sat on the table.

"Soooo," She hummed, "The weather's been nice, hasn't it?"

"Why the fuck did he have your fucking hat in his fucking pocket?" Roy asked his sister firmly, with furrowed eyebrows.

"That is a very good question-"

"Is it safe for me to-" Alfie cut himself off as he re-entered the living room, having expected to be walking in on Jamie and Billie making up for lost time, "Oh, hi, Roy, Phoebe, didn't see you there."

"Clearly," Roy nodded, taking another scoop of ice cream.

"You want ice cream?" Billie gestured to the tub that sat in the middle of the table.

"I'll never say no to ice cream," Alfie replied as he approached the time.

"Oh, is that the time?" Roy looked at his wrist which didn't even have a watch on it, "We've got to go, said we'd take this ice cream to Keeley's."

"Alfie hasn't had any yet," Phoebe looked up from her notepad.

"Yeah, Uncle Roy, Alfie hasn't had any yet," Billie smirked at her brother.

"I don't care, no offence, Alfie," Roy replied, "This has all been very fucking weird and now I need something less weird to happen, Phoebe let's go get in the car."

"I like Jamie's car better." Phoebe answered.

Billie had never wanted the ground to swallow her up quite so much.