Chapter Text
January 15th, 2026:
This wasn’t fucking happening. There was absolutely no way Abby had read that notification right.
Arsenal in talks with FC Barcelona about a double deal concerning Vidal and Harkness after Barcelona financial crisis.
Her phone shut off as she stood in her front doorway, mouth agape. Fuck the men’s team for being £1 billion deep in debt. What business did Barcelona have not separating the finances of both teams? And fuck them again for prioritising the men and letting the women’s team go to shit.
Abby was already in hell. Off the back of their latest win against Real Madrid, her club had lost four of their most valuable players. And now? Now they might lose their best players.
Abby needed a gun.
“Abbs…are you going to come in?” Her mum asked, taking in her daughter frozen in their doorway.
“What’s the point?” Abby grumbled.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Her mother laughed.
Abby turned her phone showing her mother the photoshopped images of Vidal and Harkness in red and white jerseys.
“This!” Abby cried.
***
This was fucking insanity.
Rio had just come back from her Euros injury, played in front of their fans for the first time in six months and scored two goals in the process. But unfortunately, she’d returned home the same night her house had been set on fire.
Wanda? Gone.
Monica? Gone.
Their two best defenders? Gone and gone.
Rio had never played for another club, never wanted to. She was supposed to retire at Barcelona. This was never supposed to…there had to be…Rio couldn’t fucking leave! This was her mother’s club, had been even when she’d lived in Puerto Rico and playing for Barcelona was just a dream. She never made it so, but Rio did.
“It wouldn’t be a bad decision, mija,” her father said, placing a mug in front of her. “Your career deserves better than Barcelona; they don’t value the women’s team in the way Arsenal does.”
Which, in hindsight, was true. It was undeniable that Arsenal’s management put just as much effort into the women’s team as the men’s with their ‘One club’ marketing campaign. Even then, it felt bigger than making money. Rio saw it in how both teams were showcased proudly around Emirates Stadium, how the players interacted with each other, how the heads of the clubs only ever spoke as a collective.
You’d never find that at Barcelona.
But Barcelona was home.
“What do you think mami would say?” She asked, didn’t meet her father’s gaze.
Silence filled the kitchen for a long moment before he said:
“I think she’d be upset about you leaving.”
Rio huffed.
“But she would encourage you to do so because you should only play where you are seen and respected.”
She lifted her head to see her father nodding, a small smile on his lips.
“Papi, I wouldn’t live in Spain anymore. I’ll no longer be a ten-minute drive away…you’ll be alone here,” Rio whispered.
“I can always come and visit. What happens to me should not affect your decision. I will support whatever your choice is.”
Rio bit her lip.
“What about Agatha?” Her dad spoke into the quiet. “Does she want to leave?”
Rio didn’t know.
***
Agatha could go home.
Of course she’d be upset about leaving Barcelona; this had been her club for four and a half years after all. It was just…fuck em. They didn’t give a shit about the women’s team and how their overspending on salaries would fuck with the entire club. La Liga F was light years behind the WSL anyway. Spain was hindering women’s football, and England were trying to skyrocket it. Why wouldn’t she want to go?
The only issue was the red.
When Agatha used to play in England, she was blue, only ever blue. A Chelsea girl through and through. She never wanted to play for Arsenal because her mother did, and she’d be damned if she followed in her footsteps.
But now her mother was dead.
The playing field had changed.
One of the Barcelona managers, Nico, pulled her aside after the Arsenal deal was announced and told her Chelsea was in talks about negotiations for her…just her.
Agatha hadn’t known how to feel. Club football was different to international football. On the world stage, Agatha wouldn’t bat an eyelash about going head-to-head with her girlfriend. They’d be at each other’s throats for a month every two years and call it a day. Different clubs meant all year, every year. Different clubs meant never playing with her girl again.
Rio always said she was a one-club woman, a loyal Culer till the end. Would she go down with the ship or jump off the edge and get to a life raft?
Time would tell.
***
January 17th:
Chelsea add more fuel to the fire entering a bidding war for England’s Golden Girl, her move from Barcelona looking more likely.
Abby needed a gun…again.
Now two WSL clubs wanted her Barcelona twenty-two. Understandable, she was one of the best forwards in the world, but jesus did no one have any consideration for Abby’s heart? She needed to sue Barcelona for sending her on an unwarranted emotional roller coaster. One, because it was their fault it was falling apart, and two, they were the cause of her favourite duo potentially splitting up.
She’d follow them she realised. Whatever decision her girls made, she’d support them even if that meant having to where fucking Chelsea blue. Abby huffed, looking at the Barcelona flag that covered her ceiling, huffed again when her gaze fell to the posters of Vidal and Harkness in their Barca kit.
“For fucksake,” she muttered.
Abby would have to redecorate.
***
It’d been an unusually quiet car journey back from training. Rio let the music fill the void as they drove to her house. If she really thought about it, they hadn’t spoken much since the news broke. Where to start? What to ask?
What’d you want for dinner?” Rio asked once inside the house.
Agatha shrugged, dumping her sports bag by the door and kicking off her trainers. “Takeaway?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Her girlfriend breezed past her taking off her shoes.
“I’m gonna shower-”
“Baby,” Rio said sternly because she knew exactly what Agatha was doing.
Running, avoiding, deflecting.
Agatha stopped, a foot on the stairs. “Yes?”
“We gotta talk about it,” Rio replied.
Agatha twisted her body, grey eyes locking with brown.
“Why? Can’t we just throw a coin?”
Rio deadpanned.
Agatha groaned, tossing her head back. “Fine.”
Her girlfriend set off to her left, hands batting the many plants that decorated Rio’s home as she went. Rio trailed behind, joining Agatha on her brown L-shaped sofa. She waited for Agatha to get settled. More avoiding. Agatha threw around cushions and pulled at blankets until she was submerged.
“You done?”
Agatha pulled a face. “You don’t want me to be comfortable for this very uncomfortable conversation? Jesus, what kind of girlfriend are you?”
And even though she didn’t want to, Rio laughed.
Agatha's lips lifted. “Okay, go on.”
“What do you want to do?” Rio started. “And I don’t mean us, I mean you.”
Agatha stared at her for so long that the silence felt like a threat, like carbon monoxide, slowly but surely suffocating whilst you’re none the wiser.
“Aggs-”
“I want to leave.”
Maybe Rio’s heart stopped. Maybe the world had ended. Maybe her ears were deceiving her.
“You…say that again.”
Agatha dropped her head. “I want to leave Barcelona, Rio.”
There was no maybe about this; Rio’s world had ended.
“Why?”
When her girlfriend looked up, her facial expression said it all: ‘You know why.’
“The management don’t care about us, Ri. We win trophy after trophy, sell out game after game, and it’s still not enough for them to listen to us. We asked the league to separate the men’s and women’s finances, they ignored us. We asked them to treat every part of the club with respect, they ignored us.” Agatha huffed. “Women’s football in England is taking the right steps to ensure its success, steps that aren’t being taken here, baby.”
Rio felt tears prick her eyes because Agatha was right. Their club had been rotting from the inside, and Rio was doing everything in her power to ignore it. As of right now, her girlfriend was refusing to let her do so.
“Might I add it’s gotten too easy. We’ve won the league ten times; don’t you miss the fight?”
“But Chelsea have won the WSL for six consecutive years in a row,” Rio noted.
Because there was also that. Two London clubs wanted Agatha compared to the one that wanted Rio. This wasn’t about jealousy, never would be; Rio could only ever be proud of her girlfriend. This was about whether Agatha would split them up or not.
“Wouldn’t that be easy too?”
Agatha tilted her head. “I never said anything about going to Chelsea.”
“But you’ve considered it though, right? You spent your entire football career there before you joined Barca.” Rio paused before adding, “To you that’s home like being here is mine.”
“I thought you didn’t want to make this about us,” Agatha pointed out.
Fuck.
Rio had, hadn’t she?
She was stupid to think she could separate the two. She tried anyway.
“No, you’re right. At the end of the day, it’s your decision and-”
“What about you?” Agatha butt in. “What do you want to do?”
Those tears began to swell again.
“We’re not on the same page, that’s all I’ll say,” Rio replied.
“About leaving Barca or me going to Chelsea?”
She swiped at a tear that fell. “All of it, Aggs. I don’t want to leave. I love this club; I love this city. I just got back on the pitch, I…” Rio choked.
Agatha immediately entered her space, resting a hand on her freshly recovered knee.
“I know you’re right. Arsenal is a good club. It would be a good move for me.”
Us, Rio wanted to say so desperately.
“But I just keep thinking about my mum.” About how I don’t think I’ll survive not being your teammate.
“I understand, sweetheart,” Agatha said.
Rio wiped a tear with her sleeve. “She’d only ever seen us playing in Barcelona jerseys and one of the last things she said to me was that she hoped we’d play for the club forever.”
Agatha nodded, squeezing soothingly.
“I just can’t help thinking she’d hate me for moving.”
Agatha furrowed her eyebrows. “Baby, no. Your mum didn’t have a bad bone in her body; she’d understand. She only ever wanted the best for you.”
Rio bit her lip as Agatha drew her into a hug.
“We don’t have to make any decisions tonight, okay?” Agatha said, running her fingers through her hair.
They settled into a comfortable silence, Rio’s sniffles being the only sound. Oh, how she’d never get tired of this, of having Agatha play with her hair, her scent filling her nose, her warmth cradling her body.
More tears fell.
If Agatha chose to leave and Rio stayed, she’d have to go months without seeing her girlfriend. Rio knew she wouldn’t be able to survive off that, and yet she found herself saying…
“We have to do what’s right for ourselves,” she mumbled into Agatha’s shoulder. “Our careers are bigger than us; they’re what we’ve worked our whole lives for. What’s a few years of being separate? We always have retirement.”
She felt Agatha’s body stiffen, felt her pull away until grey eyes locked onto her.
“Why do I feel like we’ve done this before?”
In retrospect, in a way, they had. Rio had strung a similar line of sentences together before the Euros 25 final.
She shrugged. “Football should always be bigger than us.”
Maybe if she said it aloud, she might actually believe it.
***
“Fuck!” Abby muttered when the notification came through.
Arsenal complete £1 million deal for Barcelona forward Agatha Harkness.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
***
January 21st, Emirates Stadium, London, England.
Boy, did Agatha hate media days. Thank god her best friend was there.
“Welcome home!” Jen exclaimed, arms out to embrace her.
Agatha laughed as they hugged, feeling the cameras on her to capture this moment outside her new stadium. When Jen pulled away, Agatha had to take a beat, let the reality of her decision settle in. The large red letters that spelt out ‘EMIRATES STADIUM’ stared back at her.
“Holy shit.”
“Right!” Jen smiled. “You’re going to love it here, I know it,” Jen continued, pulling her towards the entrance. “I know we’re not big bad Barcelona, but we’re getting a close second. Like remember when we beat you in the Champions League Final?”
Agatha glared at her and Jen cackled.
Her best friend was another reason why she’d chosen to move to Arsenal. Chelsea had been her home a long time ago, everyone she’d grown up playing with was long gone. Arsenal had Jen and apart from Rio, she was the closest thing to family Agatha had.
She let her eyes travel along the walls covered in Arsenal legends, colours and trophies. A feeling she couldn’t quite describe started inching up her body. What was that? Excitement? Pride?
Hope.
Because this was the future, Arsenal and the WSL were. Sure, they didn’t have as much silverware as Barcelona did, but wasn’t that why they’d brought her?
“Agatha,” Josie Smith, her new club manager, greeted. “We’re so glad to have you.”
Agatha took the hand extended to her, shook it. “I’m so glad to be here.”
Jen pulled her phone out just before her new shirt was revealed. They had Agatha wait off camera, a red backdrop and the Arsenal badge waiting for her to step in front of when the cameras started rolling.
“Are you ready to see your new jersey?” Josie asked.
Agatha smiled. “Yes.”
Right on cue, Josie let the shirt drop. ‘Harkness 22’ in white writing against red fabric, white again on the sleeves.
“I get to keep my Barca number?” And for some reason, she felt herself getting choked up.
“You do,” Josie grinned.
She caught a glimpse of Jen beaming behind the camera and that smile only widened.
It was official. Agatha Harkness was a Gunner.
***
After she’d changed into her new jersey, signed her contract and taken more content for the social media, Jen brought her onto the pitch.
Red for as far as the eye could see.
Agatha spun on her spot in the centre circle, her breath forming in clouds, the warm beams from the winter sun shining down on them. It hit Agatha all over again. What the actual fuck had she just done? She’d picked up her entire life in Spain and returned home one random Tuesday in January.
“You gonna miss it?” Jen asked at the edge of her thoughts. “Barca?”
“Course,” Agatha replied easily. “It was my home and club for four years. I’ve got so many good memories there I couldn’t count them on my fingers.”
Jen nodded.
“I’m going to miss my teammates, I’ll miss-”
“Rio?”
Agatha glanced at her. “I think it’ll be hard for me to adjust at first,” she continued, ignoring her best friend. “But I don’t know. I think I’ll like it here.”
Jen’s lips lifted. “Arsenal’s massive, Aggs. It’s only going to get bigger now that you’re here.”