Chapter Text
The Wings face the Indiana Fever on Friday evening.
Friday morning, Gil wakes Shelby up bright and early (the clock on her nightstand reads 5:03AM and the sun is just barely beginning its daily ascent), already dressed for the day in neon green basketball shorts and the jersey MJ had let him borrow last week. He is practically vibrating with excitement, and it brings a smile to Shelby’s face regardless of how unnecessarily early it is. Anything that brings out such joy in her son is something that brings peripheral joy to Shelby as well. “It’s gameday, Mama!” he shouts at least two dozen times throughout the morning.
Shelby spends most of her morning packing an overnight bag for Gil, as he’s set to spend the night at Martha and MJ’s house after the four of them watch the game together again. It might have taken less time had she not been a little… distracted . She can’t quite remember what she usually packs for one of Gil’s sleepovers when her mind keeps wandering to a certain brunette baller.
Silently, secretly, Shelby might be just as excited for her post-game plans as Gil is for his. Because after leaving Martha’s for the night, Shelby is going to return to her empty house. And then, she’s got a date. Well, not exactly a date . Not in the usual sense. But when Toni had asked if Shelby wanted to FaceTime after the game, Shelby had quickly agreed with an unthinking, “it’s a date!” and Toni hadn’t exactly disputed her choice in words.
So she’s a little preoccupied this morning. Thankfully, due to Gil’s early wake-up call, Shelby still has ample time to get them fed, ready for the day, and out the door on time. She drops Gil off at camp and watches as he excitedly greets MJ, who is also wearing one of Toni’s jerseys, of course .
“So, have any fun plans for your kid-free night?” Martha asks with a badly disguised smirk just a few minutes into the workday.
“Well ya clearly already know, don’tcha?” Shelby quips back, unable to do anything about the bright blush Martha’s knowing look has caused her.
Martha gives a cheeky shrug. “I know how I spent my last kid-free night.”
“Are we talkin’ about the same thing right now?!” Shelby asks, bewildered.
“What if we are?” Martha mumbles shyly. Without waiting for Shelby to answer, she quickly and quietly admits, “I think Rachel is courting me.”
Shelby sputters, but Martha goes on once again before she can even form a coherent string of words into a sentence.
“We talked on the phone pretty much all night after last Friday’s game. She brings me flowers ‘just because’ basically whenever we see each other, and she’s always got some new gadget or knick-knack for MJ, too. So, I’m kind of in the same boat as you, I think.”
Shelby sits frozen and wide-eyed in her desk chair for a few long moments before finally reestablishing eye contact with Martha, who is anxiously fidgeting in her own seat. It takes another few seconds for words to spill out of Shelby’s mouth, yet she still cringes even as she says the words, “I thought you were straight?!”
Martha, as angelic as ever, only giggles in Shelby’s face. “No, silly, I’m more interested in someone’s soul and spirit than their gender! I don’t love to label myself as anything but I’m definitely not straight! Though I will admit I haven’t ever actually dated a girl.”
“Aw, Martha!” Shelby squeals as she reaches over and squeezes Martha’s hand. “I’m so happy for you! You and Rachel would be so cute together!”
Martha blushes. “I haven’t felt this giddy over someone since… well, you know.”
“You deserve it!” Shelby assures her immediately, knowing Martha still struggles over if she’s “allowed” to fall in love again after her high school sweetheart’s early demise.
“Thanks, Shelbs.”
They share an affectionate look and small smiles before eventually turning to their computers to start their work for the day (getting caught “slacking” by Gretchen would not be a pleasant way to start the day). Silently, both women feel excited and hopeful for the future, allowing themselves the luxury of considering a life where they’re more than just content. Where they can have a good job, be amazing moms, and find someone to share an epic romance with.
Friday afternoon finds Toni alone in Indiana’s guest locker room after all her teammates and coaches have already made their way onto the court for warm-ups before the game.
She’s got earbuds in her ears, her pre-game playlist blaring at a volume that would probably have any medical professional clutching their stethoscope in horror. Truthfully, Toni can’t even hear the words of the song over her own thoughts, but the thrum of the bass and drums playing directly into her ears is somehow soothing. Perhaps it’s the ritual of sitting by her lonesome with this specific playlist going that is comforting, as habits often become.
Toni has had a strange few days since the Wings’ loss on Tuesday. She’s felt what seems like the entire spectrum of human emotion probably three times over in as many days. She’s always had a hard time moving past losses, but usually she doesn’t also have the human embodiment of sunshine texting her everyday, concurrent to her brooding. It feels almost wrong to settle on feeling cautiously optimistic when after the team’s previous losses she had stomped around for days snapping at anyone who dared approach her. One minute, Toni’s ready to rip the head off of her unsuspecting teammates and the next she’s generously offering to stay late after practice to help a couple of rookies with perfecting their contested three-pointers.
Rachel has been poking and prodding her about her inconsistent behavior, and Toni isn’t even offended like she might normally be, shrugging her off like it’s no big feat that she hasn’t screamed at someone in two whole days. She’s taken three strides forward and only one step back in terms of her emotional control this week, it seems. Even Dr. Harris had noticed during their virtual therapy call yesterday that Toni wasn’t being as pessimistic and confrontational as usual. After being stagnant in her progress for years despite claims of being fine, it’s almost odd to be actually doing better for once.
It also doesn’t hurt to know that despite whatever happens in tonight’s game, Toni will get to hear Shelby’s dulcet drawl and see her smiling face (albeit through her phone’s screen) as soon as she gets back to the hotel later. She feels almost unable to worry too much when she has that to look forward to, and Toni is so used to agonizing over the outcome of games that it’s odd to feel relaxed for once. She might just be able to get used to this strange sort of peace though, if it always means she’s going home to Shelby’s soothing and steadfast support (even just through the phone).
In the end, Toni needn’t have worried even in the slightest. The Wings take the win with a dominating 92-58 performance against the Fever, not giving up their lead at all in the second half. Toni once again drops 20+ points and tallies a staggering 15 assists. She comes off the court high on adrenaline, feeling like she, in all her five foot three glory, could launch off the ground and perhaps float up to the hoop for a dunk.
Naturally, her teammates want to celebrate such a big win after Tuesday’s devastating loss, and there’s whispers through the locker room of an impromptu team party in someone’s hotel room that Toni doesn’t care to listen to or participate in. She turns down three separate teammates asking her to attend; two from starry-eyed rookies who are tripping on adrenaline just like Toni, and one from the team’s captain whose brow creases in disapproval when Toni shrugs and says she will not be making an appearance later. In the last instance, Rachel casually swoops in to distract their captain before she can press the issue and potentially start a fight or at the very least kill Toni’s good mood. She’s sure the captain doesn’t notice Rachel’s intentions, but Toni makes a mental note to thank Rachel tomorrow for her quick intervention.
So, upon the team’s bus dropping them all off at their hotel, Toni breaks away from the group heading to one of their rooms to party, practically vibrating in anticipation of her own private celebration.
“So this is your bedroom, huh?” Toni holds her phone close to her face, squinting as if to carefully examine the blank wall behind Shelby’s bed where her laptop is perched. “Would’ve bet money that your walls would be yellow, though. Glad I didn’t!”
Shelby smiles a bit bashfully under Toni’s direct attention. “They used to be– or rather, my old room was yellow; when I was a kid.”
“Why blue, now?” Toni asks, looking genuinely curious even through the slightly grainy FaceTime connection.
“It’s a little silly,” Shelby murmurs, casting her gaze down to her hands for a moment. “I always wanted to paint my room blue when I was little, it was my absolute favorite color. But uh, my parents wouldn’t let me, they said blue was for boys. So when we moved in here, this was the first room I painted; blue, for the little girl in me that never got to have it.”
“That’s not silly, Shelby. It makes total sense, at least to me,” Toni says. “I’ve never actually gotten to pick the color of my walls. Never had a place where I was allowed to change anything.”
Shelby feels an ache in her chest for the younger version of this incredibly strong woman she’s quickly developing feelings for. “If you cou– When you can pick, what color do ya think you’ll choose?”
Shelby watches through her screen as Toni ponders for a moment, gazing around her hotel room like she’s searching the bland white walls for ideas.
Then, the brunette looks back at her phone; back at Shelby, and she smiles, a small and sweet grin. “Green. I think I’ll paint them green.”
Shelby smiles back, trying not to think too hard about how out of every color, Toni had chosen the one that stares back at Shelby whenever she looks into a reflective surface.
Shelby expects to be able to sleep in on Saturday after her long night chatting with Toni.
Instead, at what she will eventually learn is just after six in the morning, Shelby is startled awake by her bedroom door slamming open.
Having a minor heart attack until her eyesight comes into focus on the familiar shape of her curly haired best friend, Shelby sucks in a few frantic breaths before managing to curb most of the intense fear and panic.
“Becks, what the fuck!?” Shelby shouts, launching one of her pillows across the room at Becca.
The pillow thumps harmlessly against Becca’s knees, and the brunette gives a hearty laugh as her only response. Then, she scoops up the pillow from the floor and happily launches herself onto the bed.
She lands mostly sprawled across Shelby’s thighs, and the blonde, now wide awake, playfully shoves her best friend off of her lap and onto the other side of the bed. “Y’know Gil has watched you do that so many times that he throws himself onto me and the bed, too? Except he almost always lands right on my gut. Feels just like that time Christa Finlay sucker-punched me at summer camp when we were twelve because I won the talent show and she got second.”
“Okay so maybe I accidentally taught Gil to body slam you, but don’t you remember which one of us gave Christa a black eye for punching you? Me! So basically we’re even!”
Shelby laughs, shaking her head in mild exasperation and endearment. “Pretty sure we evened out that score way before Gil was even born, Becks. If we were keeping some sort of toxic give-and-take tally on acts of friendship. Which we are not, hmm?”
“S’pose not,” Becca agrees. She’s quiet for a moment as she sits up and turns to face Shelby, who is now propped up against the headboard. “I wonder whatever happened to Christa Finlay?”
Shelby suddenly finds the blanket covering her legs very interesting. She doesn’t have to wonder what Christa Finlay ended up as.
“What do you know?” Becca questions, reading Shelby’s sudden unease easily.
Shelby raises her gaze, meeting the familiar inquisitive blue eyes of her best friend. “Christa is married to you know who . They still live back in the hellhole we grew up in.”
Becca’s eyes widen as her brows shoot up. “You’re telling me Christa Finlay is Gil’s evil stepmother? How do you know all that?”
Shelby can’t hold back a full-body flinch. “Andrew’s name is not on my son’s birth certificate, so neither of those small town, small minded people are anything at all to him, actually. But, they did have the gall to send me an invitation to their wedding a couple of years ago. No kids allowed to attend , of course. Blessed by God and Pastor Goodkind, ‘nd all that bullshit.”
Becca gapes at her for a few more moments before shaking her head in disbelief and rolling her eyes. “Think he’s cheated on her yet?”
Shelby can’t help but scoff. “Considering he cheated on me with her, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that he’d cheat on her too.”
“What a coupl’a absolute cunts,” Becca says.
“Becca!” Shelby squeals in shock at the uncharacteristic crassness from her usually demure best friend.
Becca shrugs, “am I wrong?”
“S’pose not, but lord, woman, you kiss my son with that mouth?”
Becca lets out a cackle. “Yep, and I’ll kiss you with it, too!” she threatens before quickly leaning over and planting a wet kiss right on Shelby’s cheek before the blonde can even consider her words.
Shelby laughs, wiping her cheek with her hand and rubbing the leftover spit right back on Becca’s face, and then they’re suddenly devolving into a fit of giggles like they’re fifteen years old again, no cares in the world.
“Soooooo, tell me all about your date last night!” Becca says when they’ve finally caught their breath again.
Shelby blushes. “You know it wasn’t really a date,” she says.
Becca just rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Okay, how was your totally-not-a-date, then?”
“It was good.”
“Is that all you're gonna give me? You haven’t shut up about this woman for the past two weeks but now suddenly you have nothing to say? Uh-uh girlie, give me details, stat !”
This time, Shelby’s the one to roll her eyes affectionately, but she easily relents to Becca’s prodding. “She’s just so different from anybody else I’ve ever met. But at the same time it feels like we’re two sides of the same coin or something. Like, she’ll say something about her past, and even if I can’t directly relate, I just get it , it just makes sense to me in a way other people usually don’t. I feel… understood… by her. I could listen to her talk for hours and not get bored and I find myself wanting to share things with her that I’ve never even considered sharing with someone I’ve known for as short a time as I’ve known her. Does any of that make sense to you?”
When Shelby looks back at Becca after her rambling, she sees a soft expression on the other woman’s face. “Yeah, Shelb, that makes sense. It sounds like she’s something special. I’m really happy this is happening to you right now, you deserve everything good that this world has to offer.”
Shelby can’t help but smile in return, feeling relieved at Becca’s approval and content in the path she’s on at the moment. “This is all part of God’s plan for me, Becks, I can feel it.”
“Amen to that!”