WHO: Ted and Raf. WHEN: June 18th, 2018. Immediately following THIS. WHERE: Ted's farm. SUMMARY: Rupert the chicken is not a chicken! Ted is excited to share this development with Raf. And then there are some questions and some answers that neither of them were ready for. WARNINGS: Feels. Otherwise, none.
Ted insisted that he needed to see Rupert, or as Xo would put it—their love chicken—, in person. So Rafael was following her out of the house post-dinner and around to the coop where she’d mindfully set him up a home. He couldn’t imagine the trouble that tiny chick could possibly have gotten himself into. When Fang had picked it up in his mouth during that storm, Raf had thought of only one person who would have the resources and empathy for a half-drowned chicken.
Now they were outside of the barn rounding on the coop and he had walked through so many possible scenarios, but he was still coming up short. He simply had no idea. “Thanks for having me over for dinner,” he offered, keeping pace with her. “It was very kind of you to invite me. And it was especially nice to meet your friend. Pants or no pants.”
“Quinn’s nice. She’s smart, too. I like her.” Ted would lean into the coop once they reached it, dipping gracefully over to take the food dish and shake it a couple times.
This called Rupert out right quick, aware of the significance of a food dish shake, and she’d drop some feed into his bowl as he made little humming vibrating noises at them, peaking at an almost hoot.
Rupert now more grown...was sleeker. More printed. Decidedly not a chicken. No, he was too small, too interestingly colored. He would go for the feed aggressively, and she would lean against the coop and smile at Raf. “So?”
Raf canted his head to the side, confused. He may not have grown up on a farm, but he knew what a chicken looked like. He found them around town from time to time, wandering. That.. Rupert was not a chicken. Dropping into a squat, he leaned closer to investigate, tapping the side of the coop just a touch to catch the fowl’s attention.
Rupert didn’t seem to mind the attention, though he would prefer more food. Raf knew better than to stick his hand in to pull him out. He hadn’t been over often enough. “This is not a chicken,” he summarized, standing. “I’m not quite sure what he is.” He hummed in thought.
“That is not a chicken!” She looked genuinely pleased with him. “He’s a quail. He’ll be very pretty.” She gave Raf a crooked smile, crouched beside the coop. “So basically you stole a wild quail, is what I’m telling you. Don’t worry though, he’s now living that cushy domesticated lifestyle.”
“Hey! Wait,” he started to explain, completely thrown by the idea that he was in the possession of a quail--not a chicken--a quail. “I didn’t steal anything. Fang rescued him from a puddle and we brought him here. I just [...] thought he was a chicken.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyebrows knit together in concern. “Should.. we put him back? Does he need anything specialized to stay here?” He didn’t have much experience with chickens to begin with. He had no idea what to do with a quail.
She laughed. “It’s too late, he’s pretty much ours now, my friend. Don’t think he’s even young enough that momma would want to take him back.” She’d reach down to lightly pat him on the head. “Don’t worry about it, Raf. I’ve got him, he’ll still be healthy and happy, just...living his truth as a quail.”
He sighed, rocking back onto his heels, before crossing his arms. “I’ll look into a wildlife preserve. Maybe they’ll want a semi-domesticated quail? I don’t want you to have to take care of him forever. He’s a cool looking dude, though.”
“Nope.” Stubborn as ever. “You’ve given me Rupert, and he is my Rupert now. He will have a happy and halycon life as a fully domesticated pet quail.” He had been adopted, he would not be released. A crooked smile at him, though, a little lean in. “I just wanted you to see him now that he’s a little bit more grown.”
At her smile, Raf couldn’t help matching it with his own. Even so, all he could hear was Xo chanting about this quail being his love chicken with Ted.
“Oh? He’s your, Rupert? I thought we were sharing him.” He arched an eyebrow. “Just let me know if you get a hankering for quail so I can find you a suitable replacement. And I’ll want to cover whatever cost he incurs for you.”
“Gonna fight me for him?” She felt something draw tight, some tension, and there was a little flicker of surprise, her brow suddenly furrowing.
Oh.
It was like she suddenly saw Raf in some way, and she didn’t wheel backward, but she went tense for an instant before her smile softened. “I’m not going to let you cover those costs and you know it.” Gentler.
“What if we split them then?” he countered, maintaining his lopsided grin. “Since we’re sharing custody, it seems only fair that I’m paying adequate quail support.”
“Hell no, I am a strong single quail mother, I don’t need your alimony.” Was a snort, but after an instant, she’d search Raf’s face and then say a bit more seriously: “How do you feel about me?” Out of nowhere, but… not really.
Raf was about to say something witty about their chicken-turned-quail when her question caught him by surprise. He swallowed, his brows tightening for a moment before lifting in confusion. “You’re one of my best friends,” he answered with ease. Though it wasn’t all of it. He had been down this road before. He had looked Serena in the face and told her the same—she was his very best friend and simultaneously the love of his life. And yet, here he was, broken and alone.
He couldn’t. But everything screamed that he needed to. If he put himself out there and she didn’t reciprocate, their friendship might never recover. Then again, if she said that she did, it was unlikely that she would pack up her cows and disappear the following morning.
Still, the daunting decision of truth made dinner weigh heavily in his stomach. He knew what Xo would say. He knew that sometimes great things didn’t happen without taking a risk. He just didn’t know if Ted was someone he wanted to risk.
Raf studied her face for a second too long before he glanced back at Rupert. “I think my feelings for you have blurred a bit,” he explained tentatively as he focused on Ted again. His heartbeat picked up its pace. “I—” He could feel his sister smacking him in the back of the head from across town and the words rolled out of his mouth before he could catch them. “I’m in love with you.”
Her brows raised at the admittance of ‘best friends’, probing but not aggressive. Thoughtful, certainly. “Yes.” She agreed. He was one of her very good friends. But then she waited. Waited until the next admittance. She’d expected a crush, maybe, or some expression of desire. A full-blown declaration of love was… quite a bit, considering it was perhaps only 3 seconds ago she’d even realized he was crouched very close to her. Her face, after a moment, smoothed out, hiding her surprise and everything else, making her very still and very quiet. “In love with me.” She repeated, slowly, tasting and feeling out the words.
“For how long?” Wasn’t an instant burst of response back, but it also wasn’t a rejection. It was very even and aggressively neutral, a calm mask which barely managed to cover her frenziedly-working brain.
He hadn’t expected anything more than the cool, calm exterior that Ted had offered him. Raf had known her for about as long as she had been in Fall City. He’d been friends with her brother. He’d watched her handle trouble after trouble with skill and grace under pressure. That was Ted. This was no different. Though he imagined there was some kind of betrayal in knowing one of her friends was in love with her.
“A while,” was his first answer. And he realized it wasn’t fair. He shoved a hand in his pocket, maintaining his own cool exterior, just barely. “Years,” was his second answer. His instinct was to apologize. Ted was well-known in town, well-connected. She was friends with Xo and Olly. He’d made things complicated. But should he feel sorry for falling for her? Did she think he was motivated to help because he had feelings for her? The idea that his kindness could be interpreted as anything but made him frown. He dipped his gaze with his sigh.
“I should probably go, Ted,” he offered instead.
A while. A breath out. Years, and he hadn’t said anything. She wasn’t ready for his next words, although her brow would only furrow. “Okay.” She said, after an instant. “I...yeah. I need to think.” It wasn’t bad or good either, it was just… a lot. A lot, and confused, that was clear.