Title: What I’ve Learned
Author: Jilly James
Fandom: 9-1-1, Ted Lasso
Genre: Contemporary, Crossover, Drama
Pairing: Gen, pre-Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Canon-typical themes, Character bashing
Author Note: You don’t need to know anything about Ted Lasso to follow this story. Consider him an OC if you haven’t seen the show. Some Ted Lasso canon events are vaguely mentioned, but they’re not significant to the plot. Story references events from Season 4 of 9-1-1. Also, there wasn’t a way to fit this in the narrative considering the POV, but Buck and Taylor never made it past the fuck buddy stage in this fic.
Timeline: Takes place after Season 4 of 9-1-1 and Season 1 of Ted Lasso.
Challenge: Q2-2023-Big Moxie-Fusion/Crossover
Dedication: To esteefee. The idea for this fic lacked focus because I had the idea since Q2 theme for the Big Moxie was announced, but not the crossover character who would be the lens for telling the story. Unintentionally, during a late-night discussion of recent episodes, esteefee put Ted Lasso in mind, and I realized he was perfect for it.
Word Count: ~7,600
Summary: While on vacation, Ted Lasso is taking a summer stroll through a park in Los Angeles when he stumbles over a kid by himself, sitting on a park bench, crying like his world is ending. Ted can’t let that situation alone.

—

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.” —Muhammad Ali

—

What I’ve Learned

Ted Lasso pretty much hated Los Angeles. Too much traffic, too sprawling, too hot, too damn shallow. But with LA came Disneyland.

In the time-honored tradition of newly divorced parents everywhere, he and Michelle were assuaging their guilt with a trip to the Magic Kingdom. Ted had an extra heaping of guilt to deal with since he was gone so often since taking the job in the UK to be the team manager for that thing the UK called football.

When he’d taken the post, much father from Kansas than he’d ever wanted to be, the job was supposed to give he and Michelle the time apart they needed to help repair their marriage. Instead, it had exposed all the cracks she’d seen that he still didn’t. All he could do was gracefully give in and sign the divorce papers. Now, he lived most of the year in another country, had a failed marriage, and guilt trips to theme parks featuring oversized anthropomorphized rodents.

Yeah, things could be better, but he knew they could be a hell of a lot worse, so he’d spend the next fifteen minutes having a minor pity party then get on with the business of figuring out how to make his life the best it could be.

Besides, Henry’s flight was due to land in four hours, so anything going wrong in his life was eclipsed was by his favorite person’s imminent arrival. He’d offered to meet them at the airport, but Michelle had declined, citing the traffic. She’d said it made no sense to drive in an unfamiliar area when it would be just as fast, if not faster, to take an Uber and meet him at the hotel. Plus, it’d probably less stressful on all of them not having to deal with Ted’s driving and frustration with LA.

He contemplated his options for whiling away the hours until his son’s arrival. Coach Beard had sent him off on his vacation with more suggested reading about the offside rule, which Ted was never gonna get, no matter how many condiment-themed demonstrations his best friend supplied. No, another foray into why soccer was pure foolishness was not the way to burn off his excess energy.

There was a park a couple blocks from his hotel, so he figured that was a better choice, no matter how disagreeable he found Los Angeles. At least it wasn’t Florida.

The walk to the park was wretched. No one sincerely smiled, if they bothered to smile at all. He wondered if this was what the early stages of a zombie apocalypse looked like.

But a park was a park, bustling with life and energy. Teens playing basketball, kids playing soccer—the proper name for it, thank you very much—people lounging on the grass, cyclists doing their best to make people wish for a city ban on cyclists.

Despite being August, the temperature wasn’t as awful as it could be—being only in the mid 80s—so he’d just take the small win and make it a big one.

Ted tucked his hands in his pockets and just strolled, breathing deep and taking in the the way these little pockets of life were the same wherever you went.

Except for little kids sitting on benches crying their eyes out.

Ted frowned at that sight. That should never be treated as normal or okay. Not even in zombie land.

He glanced around and found no one nearby or even paying attention to the little guy who was crying like his heart was broken, sitting alone on a park bench. The kid looked to be near Henry’s age, though maybe a little smaller than his own son. Similar coloring even. One major thing that caught his eye was the crutches that were propped against the side of the bench. One tilting precariously as it were about to fall.

His feet had changed course almost without his permission, and he walked across the grass to the shade tree where the solo bench was situated.

“Hey there, little guy. You okay?”

There’s was a deep sniffle, but the kid didn’t look up. “Fine.”

There wasn’t a lot of give in the answer, but Ted hadn’t succeeded with his style of coaching by letting a kid who clearly wasn’t okay persuade him otherwise with a sternly worded fine.

“You sure about that? You seem like something might be—”

“I don’t talk to strangers.”

“Well, that’s a good policy, I suppose. Certainly one I can respect.” Ted considered what to do next. “I don’t imagine that it would help—”

“No,” the kid cut him off, again without looking up, sniffling into his sleeve. “This bench is within easy visual range of four local business CCTV cameras and one traffic camera, plus at least three soccer moms have their phones out filming their kids. I’m not going to talk to you or take candy from you or whatever you’re up to. Just no.”

Ted blinked a few times. “I appreciate your situational awareness, young sir, and I will certainly take the hint and leave you alone. However, I feel honor bound to advise you that I don’t feel right about leaving you here alone.” Absolutely no one was paying attention to this kid. “So, I’m just gonna take myself over there near those soccer moms that you mentioned and keep an eye out from afar.”

Ted should probably call the non-emergency number for the local police and figure out what to do because the kid was clearly by himself. “Even if that seems creepy to everyone—me watching you from across the park, that is—I’m gonna do it anyway, because I’d want someone keeping an eye out for my Henry in these circumstances.

“So, I’m gone, as requested,” he held his hands up in a surrender gesture even though the kid wasn’t even looking at him, “but if you need anything, you only have to ask. I promise I won’t offer you candy of any sort, but I will get you an entirely sealed bottle of water from that vendor over there if you’re thirsty.” As an afterthought, he added, “Name’s Ted Lasso, by the way. Just holler if you need me.”

The kid’s head jerked up like he’d been electrocuted, and it startled Ted into taking a step back.

“Coach Lasso?” The kid adjusted his glasses and peered closer. “Oh my god! It is you!” The kid swiped absently at his cheeks, wiping away some of the evidence of a long crying jag, but his eyes were still red and his skin blotchy.

Ted blinked a few times. “I have to admit, this is the last place I expected to be recognized—and by possibly the last person.”

“I’m a really big fan! Actually, we all are. Dad followed your career when you were coaching the Wichita State Shockers before you got hired by Richmond and moved to England. Then Buck got into it because he likes soccer better than football anyway, and he loved the idea of you being the underdog American coach in the UK. Oh my gosh, this is so exciting!”

Ted blinked a few more times at the onslaught of words. “Well, it’s nice to be known and not called a, well…”

“Wanker?” the kid supplied not-so-helpfully.

Ted sighed. The Brits still weren’t too thrilled with him, but he was starting to hear it as more a term of endearment. “Yeah, that.”

“Dad and Buck still won’t tell me what that means, and I swore not to Google it.”

“That’s probably for the best, and I’m sure not going to tell you.”

“Why do they call you a name over there? Because I get the feeling it’s not very nice.”

“Oh, you know how people can be about their favorite team. They just want the best when they’re deeply invested in something, and they don’t think I’m the best thing for this team they’ve poured their love and support into.”

“But you’re amazing.”

Ted huffed a laughed. “Kid, we got relegated.”

He bit his lip. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You guys were so close to staying in the Premier League. But we’ll still watch, no matter that you’re Championship League now. We’re not fair weather fans.”

Ted grinned. “I appreciate having a loyal fan.” Taking a chance, Ted took a seat a careful distance away and pulled out his phone. “You really do remind me of my son, Henry. He’s unconditionally supportive too.”

“I think I saw him on TV with you.”

Ted showed the lock screen on his phone.

“Yeah, I recognize him! He visited you in England?”

“Yep. We had a great time.”

“Didn’t he ever ask you what a wanker is?”

Ted sighed. “Oh, he asked.”

The kid gave him an expectant look.

“I’ll give you the same answer I gave him… It’s a man who likes to be alone with his thoughts.”

A little furrow appeared in the kid’s brow. “I really think that’s probably not right, but I’ll let it go. Someday, I’ll wear Buck down and he’ll tell me.” He looked back to the phone. “How old is Henry?”

“Turned nine this summer.”

“I turned ten on August 8^th! We’re almost the same age!”

“I figured you were close in age.” Ted smiled fondly at the phone before tucking it away. “His mom is meeting me here in LA along with Henry so we can do Disney and Universal Studios. Their flight lands in about three hours, and I was trying to burn off some nervous energy by wandering around the park.”

“That sounds like fun. Has he ever been?”

Ted shook his head. “We’ve done some other theme parks, but this is the first time at Disney. It’s hard not being together all year, but he comes for visits, and we do FaceTime calls several times a week.”

“Are you going to coach Richmond again next season?”

Ted forced a smile, thinking of the marital issues that had led to the job, but now he had no marriage and a team that needed him. “My plan is to return. Feels like my job there isn’t quite done.”

“Do you like England?”

“Eh. It’s an acquired taste, but I’m definitely acquiring the taste.”

“Are you acquiring the taste for afternoon tea?”

“Oh god no. Nothing but brown beaver run off, if you ask me.” Ted shuddered. “No, thank you. Not now, not never, not no way.” He propped his elbow on the back of bench, resting his chin on his palm. “So, your family are fans of Richmond, huh? Who’s your favorite player?”

“Well, Buck’s favorite player is Jamie Tartt.”

Ted blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, he was really sad when Jamie moved to Manchester City.”

“Jamie?” Ted repeated. “Really? I mean, I see potential in the kid, but he’s…a lot.” Most people didn’t have the opportunity to see in Jamie what Ted had seen.

“Buck says you have to appreciate anyone who unironically enjoys their name being sung to the Baby Shark song.”

Ted snorted a laugh, never having considered it from that angle. He and the kid exchanged a look and simultaneously sang, “Jamie Tartt doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo, Jamie Tartt doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo, Jamie Tartt doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo. Jamie Tartt!” They both burst out laughing.

“I guess I see this Buck’s point. What about you? Who’s your favorite player?”

“Roy Kent.”

Ted choked on nothing. When he’d recovered, he managed to ask. “Are you trolling me? Is this bench really a bridge?”

“No, he’s awesome! Plus, we get the games on cable, so his language usually isn’t censored, and Dad makes Buck put money in the swear jar every time Roy says something inappropriate—because Buck got us into soccer, so Dad says Buck’s to blame, but Buck says Dad was already a fan of yours, so it’s hardly his fault, still, he puts the money in—and you know Roy swears. A lot. So, I’m gonna get my own Disney trip soon just on Roy’s swearing. Plus, he’s amazing. I was really sad about his knee injury. Do they think he’s going to get better?”

“Nah, that seemed like a career ender, little man, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate hearing that he’s got a fan like you all the way in California. What about your dad? Who does he like?”

“He likes Sam Obisanya. But Sam kind of reminds me a lot of Buck, but I don’t think Dad has clued into the fact that he always likes the player who most reminds him of Buck.”

Ted wasn’t sure if he wanted to poke at whatever that was. “So, you know my name, but I’m wondering if it’s still gonna come off as creepy if I properly introduce myself.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m sorry, I got so excited.” The kid scrubbed at his face with his sleeve again, fully wiping away the evidence of any tears, then straightened out his shirt. He held out his hand. “I’m Christopher Diaz.”

Ted solemnly shook the small hand. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Mr. Diaz. Theodore Lasso, at your service.”

The kid laughed. “Chris is fine, Coach Lasso.”

“You can call me Ted if you want.”

“Can I call you Coach?” he asked with a grin.

Ted laughed. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks, Coach!”

They chatted about soccer for a few minutes and Chris trolled him a bit for still not understanding the offside rule. “I’ve never seen Buck laugh so hard as when you told the reporters that it was like pornography…hard to explain, but you know it when you see it. He fell off the couch and hit his elbow so badly Dad had to actually get an ice pack for it. Dad was trying to pretend like he was annoyed, and he said that Buck needed to put $100 in the swear jar, but we could all tell he was laughing his butt off deep down inside.”

Ted huffed. “I have Coach Beard for the intricacies of the game. I’m there to deal with what’s going in the heads of all my darling little prima donnas.” He gave Chris a speaking look. “I’m not saying you’re a prima donna, kiddo, but do you feel up to talking about why you’re in this park alone? Why you were crying like your world was ending when I walked up?”

Chris bit his lip and looked down at his lap. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“You don’t have to talk, but if you want to get it off your chest, I’m willing to listen. Sometimes, things are less complicated when they’re not just bouncing around inside our own brain pans like a rubber ball off of linoleum.”

After a long pause, Chris offered, “My Dad was shot a few months ago.”

That wasn’t at all where Ted thought this was going. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Christopher.”

Chris lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “He’s okay. He just went back to work after doing all his rehab and stuff. It’s his second shift today.”

“Shift? Is he a police officer?”

Chris looked up with a frown. “Firefighter.”

Ted fought down the urge to ask how a firefighter got shot.

But Chris seemed to read the question. “He wasn’t shot because of his job.” The kid’s frown got a little more intense. “Or maybe he was. I don’t know; it’s confusing.”

“Can you explain it to me?”

“There was a sniper shooting firefighters, and my dad was one of them.”

“I think I see the distinction you were making.”

“Do you? Because I keep repeating what Buck says about the difference, but I don’t really get it.”

“Okay, what color is your father’s uniform?”

“Dark blue.”

“See, when a police officer is shot in the line of duty, or when someone in the military is shot during combat, they’re injured as a consequence of their job—their chosen vocation—yes?”

“Yeah…?”

“I’m not saying they’re bringing it on themselves, but it’s a risk of that work. But people don’t typically shoot at firefighters; it’s not a risk of their jobs, right?”

“That’s true.”

“So, someone happened to be looking to shoot a firefighter, and your father was hurt because he was an on-duty firefighter, presumably in uniform, but he wasn’t shot because it’s a risk of his job, correct?”

Chris frowned in confusion.

“What if the sniper had been wanting to shoot someone in blue that day, and they picked your father because he was wearing blue. He’d have still been shot because he was dressed as a firefighter, because LA firefighters wear blue, but it still wouldn’t have had anything to do with the risks of his job.”

Chris blinked a few times, his mouth forming a perfect O.

“People who commit that type of crime, who target a specific type of person to be their victim, there’s nothing the victim can do to control their actions. Any person, at any time, could be picked by a criminal to be targeted for a violent act. Whether based on what they’re wearing, the job they do, the color of their hair, or just where they happen to be standing at that imperfect moment. Do people stop going to work? Do they shave their heads bald? Do they wear only black and hope shooters are only going after people who wear colors?”

Chris stared at his hands and sniffled. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his nose. The hanky was cream colored with pink hearts all over it. “I guess I just wanted it to be his job’s fault.”

“It’s the criminal’s fault.”

“I know.” The acknowledgement was barely more than a whisper.

Ted tapped the hanky. “That’s cute.”

Chris looked up and grinned. “Buck got them during the pandemic, and I always have one in my pocket because he says I need to get used to using it instead of always defaulting to my shirt sleeve, but I forget. He started buying them because he said people were being stupid about paper products during COVID, plus he says it’s more environmentally friendly. I also like them better because they don’t hurt my nose.”

“Seems like a smart guy. Maybe I should get Coach Beard some heart hankies.” Coach Beard would probably love them.

Chris giggled.

“So, your dad going back to work had you upset?”

“Yes, but that’s been going on for a while. Buck’s been trying to talk to me about this all summer. He said I was bottling up how I felt about Dad’s shooting and clinging too much to Dad, like I was afraid he was going to disappear.” His nose scrunched up. “That made me kind of mad, but mostly because he was right. But I didn’t really want to talk about it. Which wasn’t nice of me.” Chris blew out a breath. “Buck is my best friend.”

Ted frowned at the left turn, and he’d sort of been assuming that this Buck was a romantic interest of the father’s.

“He’s also my dad’s best friend, but that’s okay, right? That we have the same best friend?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Besides, I claimed him as my best friend first.” The territoriality was kinda cute. Chris was giving Ted a questioning look, as if he expected Ted to doubt him.

“Is there some reason why I’d doubt you, kiddo?”

“Well, he’s a lot older than me. Like, he’s almost my dad’s age.”

“Okay.”

Chris blew out a breath. “He works with my dad.”

“Okay.”

“He’s kind of my godfather, and he gets custody of me if anything happens to Dad. Not that anyone told me about that until recently.” The last was muttered under the kid’s breath, but Ted was used to kid mutterings, so he heard it just fine. His players muttered more than his son.

“I’m not sure what you’re going for here, Chris. Am I supposed to doubt that you’re really friends with Buck?”

The kid’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Ana says he’s not my friend.”

The new name threw him. “Who?”

“Ana.” Chris wiped at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. “She’s Dad’s girlfriend.”

The girlfriend thing really threw him. She clearly wasn’t much of a presence in this kid’s life.

“I was with her today, and I was talking about something Buck and I were going to do this weekend—finally, because he and I have had to cancel a lot lately. She asked me to quit talking about him—that she was tired of hearing about Buck. That I should talk about my friends or something about school. And I said he was my very best friend, and I was allowed to talk about my plans with my best friend if I wanted to.”

The kid’s chin wobbled in an alarming way that made Ted want to pull him into a hug. “And she said he wasn’t really my friend. That he was my dad’s friend and he’s just pandering to me to get to spend more time with Dad. That Buck knew the way to get more time with Dad was through me. But that’s not true!” A broken sob tore its way out. “Is it? It’s not true, right, Coach?”

“Wow. Okay.” Ted scratched the back of his head, resisting several urges, not the least of which was finding some woman he’d never met and throttling her. “I can’t say I know any of the people involved here, kiddo, and I only know yours and Buck’s relationship based on what you’ve told me… Let me ask you this. What is friendship?”

“Huh?” The kid mopped at his eyes with the heart hanky.

“It’s a simple question. What do you think friendship means?”

There was a long pause before Christopher managed to say, “Enjoying spending time together?”

“I think that’s definitely a factor—when you are in one another’s sphere, that you enjoy the company. But there could be other measures that might apply—shared experiences, shared sense of humor, common interests. You could any of those or a combination of those, plus other things, and then add on enjoying spending time together… And what do you get?”

“Friendship?”

“Yeah, I think you probably do. So, this Buck… I gather from the pandering comment that what you’re doubting here is that he really is enjoying spending time with you. Are you thinking he might be pretending?”

Chris shook his head, but then he bit his lip. “I trust Buck, and I don’t want doubt, but I am just a kid, and she kept saying how I was a kid, and he was an adult, and… I know that!” Chris looked at the edge of tears again.

“It’s confusing, huh?”

Chris nodded solemnly.

“So, let’s separate out the enjoying spending time together, since you’re not sure if you can speak for him. Do you have common interests?”

“I think we do.”

“Are there any examples you can think of where you know for sure he had the interest before you did?”

Chris’ eyes lit up. “The first time I brought up this special I’d seen on Ancient Egypt, Buck already knew all about it. He said he’d been salty that they only got a week on Egypt when he was in grade school, but he’d been fascinated, so he’d started buying books and reading on his own. He still had all the books, and we geeked out at his loft over learning about it.”

“So, he already had the knowledge and the books when you brought it up?”

Chris nodded.

“And there’s no way your dad knew ahead of time?”

Chris shook his head. “I’d watched the documentary in Abuela’s bedroom while he and Buck were building her flower beds.”

“Okay, I think that’s one in the shared interests column. Mind you, you don’t necessarily have to have shared interests to be friends, but it’s one possible metric. With that in mind, can you think of any others?”

The kid began to rattle off at truly dizzying list of interests he shared with this Buck person.

“You two are seriously both into all of that stuff?”

“Some of it he learned about for me because I was studying it for school, but Buck likes to learn, and almost anything can capture his interest.”

Ted gave Chris a pointed look. “Seriously? He was upfront with you about which subjects he was learning on your behalf and which he already knew?”

“Oh. Right.” Chris gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess there was never any reason to doubt that, was there?”

“Well, I can see the seeds of doubt have been well sown, so we’ll keep analyzing the situation. What about shared experiences? The kinds of things that can build bonds between people. Have you been on any trips together? Or—”

“The tsunami.”

“What?”

Chris bit his lip. “The one in Santa Monica two years ago. Over eleven-thousand people died. Buck and I were on the pier together.”

Ted blinked. Even in Kansas, he’d heard about the Santa Monica tsunami. “You two survived a natural disaster together?”

Chris nodded. “He saved my life. He ran so hard to get away from the wave, and when it caught us anyway, he never gave up until we were back together.”

Ted blew out a breath. “Any less harrowing shared experiences?”

“We do stuff together all the time.”

“Like what?”

“Rock climbing, surfing, indoor skydiving, self-defense, hiking, skateboarding, he took me to this junior archeology thing where they teach you how to work as a field archologist and dig up artifacts. And we have annual passes to the zoo—we go at least once a month, and we know all the animals by name, and the zoologists all know us. There’s also science and nature museums and—”

“Christ on a cracker, kid. You two have more in common than anyone I’ve ever heard of. Do you enjoy doing all that stuff together?”

Chris nodded.

“And do you think he does too?”

Chris hesitated and then nodded. “When we had to be separated during the pandemic lockdown—my cousin came to stay with me because Dad’s job is high risk, my CP puts me at increased risk, and Abuela is too old take care of me—anyway, Dad said being apart from me was almost harder on Buck because Buck missed all of our time together. And Buck seemed really sad not to get to spend time with me in person. He called me as much as Dad did.”

“I think we’ve covered a lot the metrics of friendship, but you’d mentioned that this girlfriend said he was just your Dad’s friend….?”

Chris scratched his nose, looking adorably confused. “She said Buck used me as a way to get more time with my dad, and that everyone knows if you want to get to Dad, you need to win me over. Thing is, if she thinks that’s true, she’s never tried very hard to win me over, and she certainly doesn’t spend much time with me. This is the first time she and I have ever spent the day alone together.”

Ted had to bite back a smile at the kid seeing through her ploy—even if it was obliquely. This whole thing stank of her trying to push the best friend out of her boyfriend’s life, but it wasn’t his job to make that observation. “I’m not sure you can trust her evaluation of your father’s friendships, but let’s just focus on what you have more information about. You said Buck is a friend to both of you, right? Does he have as many common interests with your father?”

Chris considered and then shook his head. “Dad’s relaxed with Buck. I think Buck makes him feel safe. Buck’s good at making people feel that way, to be honest. They talk, of course, but sometimes, it’s like they’re saying more without talking. I don’t even get it. Buck and I much prefer to talk.”

“Remember how I said not every friendship is built on common interest? Some people you just know are your people. Life can take you in different directions, and you still know one another as deeply as you did the day you met. It’s like the knowing is deep down in a way you can’t explain.”

“So, you’re saying my dad’s friendship with Buck is different than mine?”

“It would have to be since you’re two separate people, wouldn’t it?”

Chris laughed and nodded.

“Your dad and Buck may have plenty of common interests, but their basis for friendship may be this profound connection they have.”

“Dad says they’ve had it since they pulled a grenade out of someone’s leg in the back of an ambulance. Wouldn’t that also be a shared experience?”

Ted blinked then rubbed his hand over his face. “There’s way too much adrenaline in your life, kiddo. Did your dad say what about the grenade made them friends?”

“He said Buck insisted on staying to help him; that he knew Buck would have his back, that he was reliable.”

“That sounds like a profound sort of trust. I can’t speculate on what drives your father’s friendship because I’m not talking to him, but it sounds as if there’s plenty of basis for all the friendships, kid. You and your dad can both be friends with Buck.”

“He can be my best friend even though he’s like twenty years older than me?”

“The age difference does put certain boundaries on your friendship, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Buck isn’t going to watch an R-rated movie with you or take you to a strip club.”

Chris burst out into giggles while shaking his head. “No!”

“Now, I’m not saying he has done those things with your dad, but they certainly could without it being weird or inappropriate.”

“That’s true.”

“Buck absolutely should not be getting drunk with you and, say, going off to get a tattoo.” Another raft of giggles was his reward. “Now, I think drunk tattoos are a bad idea no matter what, but it’s likely that no one would think much about it if your father and Buck did something like that, right?”

Chris nose scrunched up. “Would anyone even notice? They both have a lot of tattoos already. They’d have to confess to drunken decision making, and they’re both firefighters. They don’t do that sort of thing.”

“But they could. Legally, they can get drunk and make poor choices. Buck can’t do that with you. Age puts some implicit boundaries on your friendship that absolutely should be there; make sense?”

“But you’re saying those limitations don’t mean our friendship isn’t real?”

“Honestly, kid, I’m considering trading in Coach Beard and taking Buck back to England with me. I clearly need a friend upgrade.”

“Hey!” Chris cried in mock indignation. “The Diazes have prior claim.” But he was smiling broadly, so Ted considered it a win.

“You know what you really should do right about now?”

“What?”

Ted held out his phone. “Call and tell your dad and Buck where you are.” He’d never intended to talk to the kid this long, and he’d kept expecting some worried woman to come bursting out of the trees at any minute, looking for the ten-year-old, but the more time that had passed, the more Ted had grown concerned that there was about to be an avoidable AMBER alert.

Chris winced as he stared at the phone. “If I give you the number, will you call?”

He shouldn’t, but maybe that would be less alarming than the kid calling from a strange number. “Yeah, all right.”

“Will you tell him I’m sorry? I wasn’t trying to scare her; I just wanted to get away from the things she was saying. And I didn’t want to hear any more.”

Ted nodded, feeling like he did not want to dip his toe anywhere into this pool of crazy, but the kid had asked, so Ted was gonna comply. “I’m just gonna step over there and make the call. But I’m sure your dad is going to want to talk to you.”

“Yeah.” Chris’ shoulders slumped.

“Want to tell me your dad’s name?”

“Eddie Diaz,” Chris replied, followed by rattling off the phone number.

“All right; sit tight, little buddy.” Ted stepped a bit away and took a deep breath before dialing the number he’d been given.

“Diaz,” a masculine voice answered tersely.

“Mr. Diaz, my name is Ted Lasso, and I’m—”

“¡Mira qué cabrón!” The line went dead.

He’d had one whole semester of Spanish in high school, but he was pretty sure Diaz had just told him not to be a smart ass.

Ted didn’t want to have to go back to the kid and admit defeat. He had one other option, assuming the father would even pick up. If he wouldn’t, they’d have to try this Buck person. He called the same number through FaceTime.

“Seriously? I give you points for…” An attractive man with dark hair and eyes, who looked barely old enough to be Christopher’s father, appeared on the screen. He looked tired and a little disheveled. A second later, his eyes went wide. “Ay Dios. You are Coach Lasso.”

“What? Really?” another voice said in the background, then a blond man appeared in the frame; he had some sort of vascular birthmark above his eye that was quite distinctive and a streak of something that looked like it was probably soot on his cheek. “Holy shit. Ted Lasso. Why are you calling Eddie?”

“Give me the phone, Buck!”

“You’ve got the phone!”

“You’re nearly in my lap!”

“Coach Ted Lasso is on the phone, Eds!”

Ted cleared his throat. “Mr. Diaz, I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I’m here with Christopher.”

Both men’s expressions went stony and still. “Excuse me?” Diaz said softly. “What do you mean you’re with Christopher?”

“I met Christopher in the park this afternoon.”

Diaz’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

Ted blew out a breath, figuring there was not easy way to handle the situation. “It’s been about forty minutes now since I ran across him—by himself, crying on a park bench. I take it you weren’t already aware that he wasn’t with…whoever he’s supposed to be with?”

Diaz’s expression shifted to something that was so hard and cold that it was almost terrifying. “No, I wasn’t aware. Where are you?”

Ted told him the name of the park and which entrance he’d come in through since it was the one closest to his hotel.

“Is Christopher all right?”

“He was upset, and he admits he ran away from…Ana?”

Diaz blinked. “He ran away from her?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Buck asked in the background. “And why the hell didn’t she call?”

“What Buck means is that the only way for Chris to run away from someone is for them to not be paying attention.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m giving my phone to Buck so I can make a call with his phone. Do not hang up.”

“I hear you loud and clear, and I shall comply, good sir.”

Then there was just Buck in frame and the phone was obviously moving and the background changing, then there was sound of a vehicle starting.

Buck focused back on the phone. “Someone is driving us to you. And respectfully, Coach Lasso, it’d normally be a dream to talk to you, but put Christopher on.”

“I think he’s worried you or his father are going to be angry—”

“I’m not mad at Christopher. Now, please put him on the phone.”

Ted knew when there was a battle he wasn’t going to win, so he turned on his heel and crossed the short distance to where Chris was watching him anxiously. He extended the phone.

Chris peered up at him. “Am I in trouble?”

Ted shrugged. “I have no idea, kiddo. Seems unlikely things will ever go back to the way they were, but not all change is bad, just like not all movement is forward—or maybe it’s that it’s not all backwards. Something like that. Just have some faith in the people who love you.”

“Chris,” came Buck’s voice over the speaker, “please talk to me.”

Chris’ eyes welled with tears and he pulled the phone close, peering down into the screen. “Bucky?”

“Hey, buddy. You okay?” Buck’s voice was so soft and gentle that Ted knew without a doubt that this man wasn’t using this kid to get close to anyone.

“She said you weren’t really my friend. That you only spent time with me because of Dad.”

“Motherfu—” The curse word was cut off and there was an audible intake of breath. “Listen to me, Christopher Javier Diaz, there is no one in the world more important to me than you. Sometimes I have to be a teacher or a mentor, sometimes your legal guardian, or even like a parent. But whatever other roles I might have in your life from time to time, I’m always your friend. Always.”

“Why would she say something so mean?”

“I wish I could say, bud. She’s always had some issues with me, but I’d rather she just yelled at me or Eddie about them. It was unfair and cruel of her to involve you.”

“I miss you, and she’s making you not be around so much, isn’t she?”

There was a long pause before Buck answered, “Maybe. You should talk to your dad about that.”

“I want to talk to you about it. I’m tired of this! I just want things back to normal; I want movie nights and adventures, and zoo trips. I think—” Chris sniffled. “I think she has been asking me about our plans all summer so she could make other plans so we’d have to cancel. And I’m tired of it. I don’t want to spend any more time with her!”

“Buddy, I need you to calm down, okay? Maybe she was getting information from you so she’d be able to sabotage our plans, but maybe she wasn’t. We may never know. The best we can do is talk to your dad and have a better strategy going forward so that you and I don’t get lost in the shuffle. But I don’t care about Ana right now, Chris; I care about you.”

Tears dripped down Chris’ cheeks, so Ted took a seat next to him and tapped the hanky half draped over Christopher’s leg. Chris wiped at his nose but ignored the tear tracks.

“I’m not okay,” Chris finally admitted.

“I know,” Buck said sadly. “But I’m glad you told me. We’re still about fifteen minutes away, but I’m going to stay on the phone with you until Athena gets there. She’s closer.”

Christopher’s eyes went wide. “You told on me to Athena‽”

“No, we told on Ana,” Buck stressed.

“Oh.” Chris sniffled again and wiped at his nose. “Do I need to talk to Dad?”

“You definitely need to talk to Eddie, but he’s on the phone with Ana right now. When we get there, expect the hug to go on long past the point of your comfort.”

“Okay. But I don’t want Ana to come get me, Buck.”

“She’s not going to. Like I said, you’re going to stay on the phone with us until Athena gets there, and there’s no way Athena is letting you go with Ana.”

“All right.” Chris brow furrowed. “If you’re talking to me, and Dad’s talking to Ana, who told Athena?”

“Bobby. He’s driving the command truck and filling in Athena.”

“Bobby’s coming too? That’s the captain and his heavy rescue assets out of the station! Oh my god, Buck, this is turning into a domestic crisis!”

“Kiddo, listen to me. How long were you alone before Coach Lasso found you?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“So, you’ve been missing for probably an hour.” Buck blew out a heavy breath. “Ana didn’t tell anyone she couldn’t find you. I’m going to let you put that big brain of yours to why that was a problem.”

“Oh.”

“Coach Lasso okay with us commandeering his phone until ‘Thena gets there?”

“Yep, it’s fine!” Ted called out. “Just sitting here being one with the universe, grateful no one’s trying to make me drink tea. Wouldn’t mind a crumpet, tho.”

Buck laughed.

Chris looked up and sighed. “Bucky, ‘Thena’s here.”

Ted glanced up to find the scariest woman he’d ever seen, fully decked out in a police uniform, headed their way, striding across the grass with her hand resting on her holster. “Oh good lord have mercy.” He looked at Chris. “Should we make a break for it? I don’t want to go to jail.”

Chris gave a theatrical sigh. “She’d catch us. She’s really good at that.”

The Athena in question was a police sergeant, who only gave Ted a passing glance before sweeping Christopher off the bench and into a hug that lifted him right off his feet, despite her petite stature. “Little dove, your dads are probably not going to ground you, but I will. I’m sentencing you to a night helping me make dinner at my house while we discuss every detail of what went on today.”

Chris nodded into Athena’s shoulder and didn’t protest.

Ted’s phone was stuck between the two.

A red SUV with LAFD emblazoned all over it arrived about ten minutes later and three men piled out of the vehicle, two of them sprinting across the grass. Ted recognized both of them from the call that had been disconnected right after Sergeant Grant arrived. She’d since introduced herself and had a few pointed questions about how Ted had found Christopher and the nature and duration of their conversation. He’d never felt so much like a suspect in his life.

The first to get to Christopher was Eddie Diaz, who had the kid off his feet and in another embrace almost instantly. Despite Buck’s assurances of the hug going on for an uncomfortably long duration, the kid was passed over to Buck almost immediately. Being in the blond giant’s arms Chris started to crying again, which seemed to trigger Buck to start crying himself.

All these emotions were starting to get to Ted too; going back to his hotel and wallowing in Hallmark movies was starting to seem like the right choice for his afternoon. He’d barely registered the arrival of the fire captain—Bobby Nash, according to what Sergeant Grant had told him—when Eddie Diaz was suddenly in front of him.

Ted could put any further thought to his emotional afternoon plans before he was being yanked into a hug by Eddie. “Thank you. For finding him, for taking care of him.” The guy smelled a bit of smoke. Guess fires happened when they happened. Sort of like babies. And fizzy water.

Ted patted Eddie’s back. “Couldn’t very well count myself a decent human being to do otherwise.”

Eddie pulled back and nodded. “I’m still grateful; he’s everything to me.”

Ted nodded. “I hope everything works out for all of you.” He hesitated. “He and I talked a bit; he’s struggling with you going back to work.”

Eddie’s brows shot up. “He talked to you about that?”

“Well, some people find me easy to talk to.”

Eddie’s gaze flicked back to his son and best friend. “Yeah, I can see that.” He cleared his throat. “She hadn’t even called for any kind of help. She was trying to find him on her own.” There was a barely banked rage bubbling under the surface.

“Doesn’t seem very responsible,” Ted said noncommittally.

“Certainly not the kind of person I can trust around my son.”

Ted gave Eddie a point look. “Seems like you’ve already got exactly the person you can trust with your son.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up, but then he nodded and his expression shifted into something soft. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“And I think Christopher’s right… Buck does remind me of Sam.” Sam Obisanya. Sweet hearted, loyal, hardworking, steadfast. The kind of person who brought teams together. The kind of friend everyone needed.

The End