Work Text:
Jules retires first.
That wasn't in the plan; that wasn't the way they'd plotted it so long ago, when they'd gone from two girls from different worlds to a pair of footballers that half the teams in the world would want. Before that happens, before fantasy becomes reality, Jess had always figured she'd go to law eventually, would fulfill her parents' desires.
Nowhere in there are dreams of Olympic glory, women's world cup dreams, no thoughts of football or America. Those are dreams that she doesn't let flourish--Beckham was unattainable, a way to escape the here and now. (Because her sister had a love match, but she'd heard the aunties gossip. One love match is enough in a family.) Football... that was a thing that happened at the park, a thing she loved too much to really dream about.
And then she meets Jules. Jules and Joe, and things change.
America's unexpected; America's nothing like what either of them were imagining. It's hard work and hours on the road. Studying for chemistry finals as a team, quizzing each other on chemical compounds as the miles went by, and essays written quickly, a race against dying laptop batteries. America is four years of school, and two more of soccer, and then they're recruited by the German women's team. (That, that was never in the plans.)
It suits them. They're a pair, and everyone knows it. When they meet their new teammates, no one asks the obvious; Jules's mother might expect them to be grateful, but they're not hiding.
There is only one bedroom in the first apartment they rent, and the first time someone even tries to sidestep it, Jules says, with a laugh, "And if either of us were banished to the couch, we'd lose the team the next day's game." No one actually asks after that. There's no need to.
Six more years, three more teams, and Jules pulls Jess aside one night, and they agree. One more year for Jules, and she's taking a coaching job. Jess'll join... Jess'll join Jules the year after. She's staying in the extra year because she's already captain and they don't yet have someone strong enough to succeed her, and they won't let the others down.
And that's the way it goes. Sort of.
The last thing anyone actually expects is that one of the magazines, one of the reporters asks, the last game that Jess is playing, "So, what was it like without your partner to support you?"
And Jess blinks, and for a second, the good Indian girl she never was shows in her eyes, in her smile, in her polite answer of, "Come again? I'm not certain I know what you mean." It's not a lie, it's the bloody truth, because she hasn't once passed to a woman who's no longer there, but neither has she been alone or unsupported.
"Jules Paxton," the reporter says, smelling blood that isn't there. "Isn't it true you've been together since you were just teenagers playing for the Harriers?"
Jessminder has been disappointing her mother since she was born, but Jess rarely disappoints herself. "Clearly, your crystal ball had more sense than the two of us." A sharp smile. "After all, we were 21 when either of us made a move."
The reporter's jaw falls open; this isn't what she expected. But Jess isn't done. "Ma'am, we haven't hidden who or what we are to each other since before we stopped playing for Santa Clara, and quite frankly, those who have any right to any private facet of our lives-- well, they've known for a very long time."
"Surely you owe it to young girls following in your footsteps, who want to know that lesbians can--"
"What, thrive in professional sport?" Jess actually laughs as she stands up. She shakes her head. "In fourteen years, if our fans haven't figured that out, they haven't been watching the teams we played for, or the athletes we played with and against."
She knows that when the interview hits, her sister will call, livid and threatening her with torture by teenager, for not mentioning to Pinky that she was planning on saying anything. There'll be mutterings about how Jess keeps failing at being a good Indian woman, and Jess will point out once again that she's not the one who had a baby seven months after the wedding. Never mind that everyone who matters already knew; Pinky likes appearances as much as Mrs. Paxton usually does.
Her mother-- well, her mother and mother-in-law exist in an uneasy peace, have for over a decade, but they're totally going to team up to say that now that the whole world knows, they expect grandchildren.
She walks in the door, and the smile that appears is wide and amused. "So I outed two of the three of us to some bloody bint. Turns out I'm a lesbian; who knew your mum was right, Jules?"
Joe looks up from where they're twined together on the couch; he's director of the league these days, and Jules one of the coaches. Jess will be an assistant for a while, at least until they know what they're doing next.
Children, training camps, who knows.
"What, you couldn't mention you weren't actually a lesbian?" Joe asks, laughing.
"The bitch didn't even ask, just assumed." She shakes her head. "If they just didn't assume, folks might actually realize that things aren't as simple as they appear."
"Nah, they just want more salacious details," Jules says. "Speaking of, Mum emailed to remind us that she wants grandchildren now that we're not running all over Europe in our trainers."
The three of them exchange a look. "Bets we get a phone call from Jess's mum any minute now?" Joe pulls her down,so the two women are both half-on him.
Jess shrugs. "I don't take sucker bets. Besides, we're off the road, we're retired. We can do whatever the bloody hell we want, at whatever speed we want."
A year later, there is a piece on the Harriers' head coach, Jules Paxton, and near the end, there is a line about why she retired.
"Because it was time to be together as a family," and though the reporter follows up with, "But your relationship with your teammate--" she does not elaborate.
Some things, they don't have to stay private, but Jules (indeed, all of them) is (and are) more private than most realize, and her (their) love life isn't for the vultures to pick at.