Post by Griff on Apr 14, 2013 0:52:56 GMT 10
Title: Full Disclosure
Rating: PG
Word Count: 777
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Footie AU, Alan Trebond is revealed during a match with Tusaine.
-
Roald Conte, owner of Tortall United’s professional football club, paced the length of his office, while his brother-in-law and head coach of the first string team stood solemnly against the wall. In the center of the room, his son, Jonathan, and the striker for the junior division team, Alan Trebond, sat awaiting judgment.
Alan, who was actually Alanna.
Roald pinched the bridge of his nose and paced faster.
“What were you thinking?” He burst, berating Jon. “How could you do this? Do you know what you’ve done to the club? We’ll be lucky to walk away from this as a laughing stock! What if we’re banned from the entire division?”
Jon shifted in his seat with discomforted guilt, but his jaw was set as stubbornly as it began. “Fine, so we’re banned from the junior league for a year or two. The first string professional division brings in more than enough publicity and funds to tide us over. What are they going to cite us for, anyway? Equal rights on the playing field?”
“Falsifying player records, to start,” Roald snapped, “and if they decide to ban players from the league, you’ll be shuffled out the door before anyone. When I allowed you to coach the lower division, you promised me you wouldn’t neglect your place as captain for the pro team. You promised me, since it was off-season, that this experiment of yours wouldn’t interfere with the well-being of the club!”
“It wouldn’t have, if Tusaine wasn’t filled with cheating backstabbers who can’t pass up a good foul,” Jon defended. “It was just one season. She’s good! You know she’s good! She deserves to play besides the best players out there, not shoved off to women’s footie where no one except the rare twelve-year-old girl knows who she is!” His chair thumped roughly, making him cough bashfully, “Not that there’s anything wrong with women’s footie or twelve-year-old girls.”
“Well,” His uncle added from the wall, “I supposed that clarifies whether you knew or not.”
“Thank you, Gareth,” Roald snapped, “for stating the obvious. This is a bloody disaster.”
“Oh, please,” Jon exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “the media is going to gobble this up! The first team to allow a woman to play in Men’s Division footie? The scandal will become a sensationalized victory for gender equality in less than a week. Feminist love this sort of thing.” The thump was louder this time, hefting Jon’s chair several inches across the floor. “Would you stop it, already!” Jon snapped over his shoulder. “I don’t see you saying anything. If I’m bothering you so much, why don’t you have a go at it?”
“I was keeping my mouth shut,” Alanna said, “like somebody told me to. But, seeing as you’re mucking it up, I think I will.” Trebond stood up, rubbing her hands on her shorts. She was a tiny thing, positively drowning in the oversized team shirt she’d been given to replace the jersey and sports bra that ripped during the game.
“Well,” Mr. Conte sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, “I don’t imagine you can make it much worse.”
“It was my idea,” she explained. “I’ve been playing as a boy in the smaller clubs since I was ten. I started out pretending to be my brother while he snuck off to theater, but by the time I was fourteen, I was playing under my own name.” She stuttered, “Well, my - Alan. I was playing as Alan.”
“So when did you two get wrapped up in this?” Roald waved his hand between them.
“Jon was following Coach Naxen on the scouting trip two summers ago.” She nodded over Roald’s shoulder where Gareth was standing. His brother-in-law nodded back. “That’s where we met. He was already offering me a spot on the team before he knew I was a girl. After, I guess...” She shrugged, “Didn’t seem to matter.”
Roald scoffed a laugh, “I am so glad to hear you two thought so.”
“It wasn’t like we were sleeping together at the time,” Alanna argued. “He didn’t let me on the team because we were dating!”
“Alanna,” Jon sat up sharply, “that’s really not helping-”
“That’s a relief, at least,” Roald cutting him off. “That’s the one thing the media can’t pull out of all this. ‘Heir to country’s largest football club allows girlfriend on team, ruins family name’,” he moved his hands in front of him, as if envisioning the headline come to life.
“Of course not!” Alanna assured him, “We didn’t start dating till mid-season.”
In the end, Jon decided, Roald could have done worse things than cry.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 777
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Footie AU, Alan Trebond is revealed during a match with Tusaine.
-
Roald Conte, owner of Tortall United’s professional football club, paced the length of his office, while his brother-in-law and head coach of the first string team stood solemnly against the wall. In the center of the room, his son, Jonathan, and the striker for the junior division team, Alan Trebond, sat awaiting judgment.
Alan, who was actually Alanna.
Roald pinched the bridge of his nose and paced faster.
“What were you thinking?” He burst, berating Jon. “How could you do this? Do you know what you’ve done to the club? We’ll be lucky to walk away from this as a laughing stock! What if we’re banned from the entire division?”
Jon shifted in his seat with discomforted guilt, but his jaw was set as stubbornly as it began. “Fine, so we’re banned from the junior league for a year or two. The first string professional division brings in more than enough publicity and funds to tide us over. What are they going to cite us for, anyway? Equal rights on the playing field?”
“Falsifying player records, to start,” Roald snapped, “and if they decide to ban players from the league, you’ll be shuffled out the door before anyone. When I allowed you to coach the lower division, you promised me you wouldn’t neglect your place as captain for the pro team. You promised me, since it was off-season, that this experiment of yours wouldn’t interfere with the well-being of the club!”
“It wouldn’t have, if Tusaine wasn’t filled with cheating backstabbers who can’t pass up a good foul,” Jon defended. “It was just one season. She’s good! You know she’s good! She deserves to play besides the best players out there, not shoved off to women’s footie where no one except the rare twelve-year-old girl knows who she is!” His chair thumped roughly, making him cough bashfully, “Not that there’s anything wrong with women’s footie or twelve-year-old girls.”
“Well,” His uncle added from the wall, “I supposed that clarifies whether you knew or not.”
“Thank you, Gareth,” Roald snapped, “for stating the obvious. This is a bloody disaster.”
“Oh, please,” Jon exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “the media is going to gobble this up! The first team to allow a woman to play in Men’s Division footie? The scandal will become a sensationalized victory for gender equality in less than a week. Feminist love this sort of thing.” The thump was louder this time, hefting Jon’s chair several inches across the floor. “Would you stop it, already!” Jon snapped over his shoulder. “I don’t see you saying anything. If I’m bothering you so much, why don’t you have a go at it?”
“I was keeping my mouth shut,” Alanna said, “like somebody told me to. But, seeing as you’re mucking it up, I think I will.” Trebond stood up, rubbing her hands on her shorts. She was a tiny thing, positively drowning in the oversized team shirt she’d been given to replace the jersey and sports bra that ripped during the game.
“Well,” Mr. Conte sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, “I don’t imagine you can make it much worse.”
“It was my idea,” she explained. “I’ve been playing as a boy in the smaller clubs since I was ten. I started out pretending to be my brother while he snuck off to theater, but by the time I was fourteen, I was playing under my own name.” She stuttered, “Well, my - Alan. I was playing as Alan.”
“So when did you two get wrapped up in this?” Roald waved his hand between them.
“Jon was following Coach Naxen on the scouting trip two summers ago.” She nodded over Roald’s shoulder where Gareth was standing. His brother-in-law nodded back. “That’s where we met. He was already offering me a spot on the team before he knew I was a girl. After, I guess...” She shrugged, “Didn’t seem to matter.”
Roald scoffed a laugh, “I am so glad to hear you two thought so.”
“It wasn’t like we were sleeping together at the time,” Alanna argued. “He didn’t let me on the team because we were dating!”
“Alanna,” Jon sat up sharply, “that’s really not helping-”
“That’s a relief, at least,” Roald cutting him off. “That’s the one thing the media can’t pull out of all this. ‘Heir to country’s largest football club allows girlfriend on team, ruins family name’,” he moved his hands in front of him, as if envisioning the headline come to life.
“Of course not!” Alanna assured him, “We didn’t start dating till mid-season.”
In the end, Jon decided, Roald could have done worse things than cry.