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Chapter Text

"You know why you're here, Christen."

The striker lingered in the doorway, her eyes on the older woman. The fourteen months between them had never seemed such an insurmountable gap. "I know...Riley."

Ali dipped her head to Christen, accepting the mode of address. "Come here, Press. Let's have this over with."

Christen closed Ali's bedroom door quietly behind her, and licked her lips, suddenly dry. Her field of vision seemed to narrow to one area - the bed, two pillows stacked on the foot.

She swallowed hard.

Come on, Christen, you've survived worse than this. And besides, you deserve it.

Her silent recriminations didn't help.

"Press." Ali snapped her fingers.

Christen jumped. She stumbled backward, her back pressed against Ali's bedroom door.

"Come here, I said." Ali's eyes found Christen's, and searched the striker's face in concern when Christen didn't move. "Chris."

The pet name shook her out of her stupor. "A-Ali?"

"You do know you're here because you asked to be here," Ali said softly. "If you've changed your mind, just tell me, and I'll let you walk away. No harm, no foul."

Christen swallowed and shook her head. "N-no. I haven't changed my mind."

"Okay. Come here, Christen, I don't bite," Ali coaxed.

"No, but that does," Christen mumbled, looking at the cane in Ali's hand. She put it down on the bed, holding her arms out invitingly.

It didn't take her teammate long to come to her embrace. "Ali...Ali, I didn't mean to hurt her, I didn't mean to send her to a place where she'd be feeling--"

"Shh..." Ali crooned. "I know, I know you didn't mean to Chris, we'll handle it, it's all going to be alright, I'm doing this because I love you, not because I'm mad with you, sweetheart."

Christen nodded into Ali's shoulder, letting Ali rub her back gently. "I'll be good for you Ali."

"Now that's never been a question, sweetheart," Ali chided. "You're a very good girl, Chris. Too good, sometimes, when you mess up it feels so wrong you spiral out of control. Isn't that right?"

Miserably, Christen nodded.

"That's it, sweetheart, isn't it? And you had to come back without Tobs, and she's the only one who can make things really all right again. But I'll do my best for you, won't I, hmm?"

"You always do," Christen whispered.

"I know," Ali said soothingly. "It's going to be alright, Christen. Just take deep breaths and let me know when you're ready."

"Okay," Christen said softly.

"Color?" Ali prompted.

"Green," Christen said shakily.

Ali stepped back, giving Christen a measured look. "Hmm." Her lips thinned. "I think you're going to be over my lap first, Christen." She led Christen around to the right side of the bed, and seated herself, drawing Christen over her lap without further comment.

The striker yelped as her lower torso was settled over Ali's lap, upper half resting on the bed. Ali shifted Christen until she was settled as comfortably as possible, then turned the back of her skirt up, tucking it into her waistband.

"Easy, Christen, breathe for me," Ali said softly, and Christen did her best to obey, steadying herself. The first smack of Ali's hand over her cotton shorts had her yelping again, but after that she did her best to stifle cries in the covers.

She didn't want to wake AT after all. It was one of the reasons Ali had sent her to bed so early, so she wouldn't accidentally witness this - though Christen wouldn't have blamed Ali if she'd allowed AT to witness it.

Ali spanked Christen steadily. Six. Twelve. Eighteen. Christen kept herself hazily aware of how many swats she had received, though she hadn't been asked to count - it was something to focus on. Then, Ali tapped her hip. "Lift up for me, Christen."

Swallowing, Christen raised her hips, letting Ali slip her shorts down to her knees. Ali adjusted Christen's position as she settled her back down, tipping her forward a bit.

Nineteen, twenty fell directly on top of Christen's sit spots, where most of her weight would press when she sat down. 

"Ow, Ali!" Christen stifled her yelp again, and settled, feeling Ali's other hand on the back of her neck. 

Ali rubbed soothingly, hushing Christen. "You're being so good for me, sweetheart, your warm-up is almost done, it's okay Chris, eight more, hold still."

Tears pricked Christen's eyes, but she nodded, swallowing.

Ali didn't make Christen wait, smacking each sit spot four more times, then gathering Christen up into her arms at once. "Okay, honey, breathe for me."

Christen buried her face in Ali's neck, sobbing softly into her teammate's shoulder. "Ali..."

"Shhh, sweetheart, I know, you've been so brave and so good for me. When you're ready to get up, we'll finish this," Ali said softly. "Take your time Chris, I'm in no rush."

But, Christen thought, if they waited too long the cane stripes would probably feel worse than they were already going to. Reluctantly, she pushed herself to her feet.

Ali didn't question Christen's need to finish it, but took Christen's hand and squeezed it supportively. She led Christen, still bare between her waist and socks, around to the pillows and helped Christen into position.

The cane wasn't particularly long or thick - at only two feet it was more of a switch than a proper cane, but it served Ali's purpose well enough. She picked it up, and positioned herself so she could keep one hand on Christen's back. The reassuring, restraining gesture helped Christen to relax, most of the tension leaving her well spanked bottom.

Ali tapped Christen's bottom with the cane lightly, once, to gauge her aim, and was proud of Christen when she managed to not automatically tense at that. Then the first half-strength stroke landed, and Christen jumped, wrapping her hands tightly in the bedcovers.

"I'd better not see any blood on your lips or in your mouth, Christen," Ali warned, and Christen unclenched her jaw, letting out a soft sob. Ali patted her back.

"There, now, sweetheart," she murmured comfortingly. "Ali's got you, you're doing well."

Christen's legs scissored frantically as she sobbed her way through the next three strokes. Then Ali paused, petting her back lightly.

"Okay, Christen, settle down, it's almost done," she murmured. "You're alright, you'll get through this, Ali's got you safe."

Christen nodded into the bedcovers tearfully.

"Color, Christen?" Ali asked softly.

"G-green," Christen choked out. "Please, Ali, just...just finish it."

"Okay, Chris," Ali said, giving Christen's shoulder a squeeze. 

The last two strokes crossed Christen's sit spots and undercurve, and the striker sobbed in Ali's arms as the older woman gathered her up.

"Shhh, sweetheart, Chris," Ali soothed, setting Christen's clothing to rights. "It's forgiven, Christen, honey, it's all done, we're okay. You survived, see?" She kissed Christen's forehead lightly.

Christen clung to Ali. "Ali, why..." She stopped herself, feeling stupid, and Ali rubbed Christen's back.

"Why what, honey? I'm not a mind reader, I can't answer a question you don't finish, darling."

"I know you can hit harder with that thing," Christen said, swallowing hard.

"I can. I didn't," Ali said simply. "Sweetheart, that's not what you needed from me. You've been punishing yourself enough."

Ali was right, Christen thought, feeling a moment of clarity as her captain held her. "I'm sorry..."

"I know, sweetheart. It's forgiven," Ali said softly. "And if you need to ask AT for her forgiveness, I'm sure you'll have that, too."

Christen nodded, suddenly exhausted. "Tired."

"Then I think it's bedtime for sleepy girls." Ali had put the cane aside, and now she put the pillows back in their correct place on the bed, turning down the covers. "Come on sweetheart."

Christen didn't question it, just climbed into bed beside Ali.

Ali took Christen into her arms and held her through the night, murmuring soft reassurance until she fell asleep.

Everything was going to be alright.

(the end)

Chapter Text

The email was short.

"See me in my office after your shift."

She read it over again, eyes round.

"Kriegs?" Her voice came out as a squeak, as her office mate leaned over her desk to examine the email.

She let out a low whistle. "Gods, what'd you do to upset the Boss?"

"I-I dunno!"

"No explanation, huh, kiddo?"

She shook her head, dark blonde hair flying in wisps out of its ponytail holder.

"Okay, hold still." The older woman took a hairbrush and hair tie out, tugging her charge's wild mane back into order and fixing it in a bubble braid.

"O-oh..."

"It's alright little one. The Boss never does something without reason. And she doesn't eat interns for breakfast."

"Just lunch and dinner."

'Kriegs' looked up, glaring half-heartedly at the tall, lean, and muscular form of her wife leaning on the doorjamb. 

"Hush, you." 

"Make me."

"Come here and I will, Ash."

Rolling her eyes, Ash strode over to the desk and captured her wife's lips in a brief kiss. Then she turned a pitying look on the trembling girl sitting practically in her wife's lap.

"Hey. Easy, little one, I was joking."

"But I dunno what I did!"

Ash gathered the girl up, patting her back. "It's alright darling, I'll walk with you. I'm sure it's gonna be okay," she soothed, as the alarm went off for the end of shift. "Come on, sweetheart, you're okay."

"I'll be here when you get back, love. I know you'll keep our little one safe."

"Always," Ash promised, giving her wife another kiss before leading the intern to The Boss' office. The secretary at the desk outside had already left for home, and the office was emptying rapidly. Soon, Ash knew, only the four of them would be left.

Ash knocked on the door.

"Come in." 

The note of sternness in The Boss' tone made the young intern cringe. Her legs felt like lead as Ash guided her inside.

For the first time, she beheld The Boss; with a start of surprise, she realized the woman was a couple inches shorter than her, or would be if it weren't for her heels. Her blonde hair was caught in a fishtail braid, and her blue eyes held an unsettling intensity as they found her gaze. 

She wanted to drop her gaze automatically, but The Boss' voice stopped her. "Look at me, little one. I want to see your eyes."

"Yes ma'am," the intern whispered, keeping her eyes up.

"Good girl," The Boss cooed with a note of approval that warmed her intern unexpectedly. "Now then. I'm sorry we haven't met properly yet. I've been busy, but I shouldn't neglect my girls."

"I understand, ma'am," the intern replied, though her tone suggested she didn't. 

"I'm not sure you do," The Boss replied. "I understand you're working in Miss Harris' department, that she's been training you for me, and that you came to our corporation through Miss Krieger."

The intern nodded uncertainly. "We were at uni together, taking the same course, ma'am. We've been friends ever since."

"I am sure I can entrust you to their care then. You'd best work hard for them, or else I'll be hearing about it, and then..." She raised an eyebrow.

The intern's stomach dropped. She had a fairly good guess. "I promise I'll be good, and work hard, ma'am."

"Good," The Boss said. "You look like you have a question, little one."

Uncertainly, she nodded. "Am...am I in trouble today, ma'am?"

"Have you done anything which would land you in trouble?" The Boss inquired, and her intern squirmed.

"I don't...think so? Ma'am."

"She hasn't, ma'am," Ash confirmed when The Boss looked her way. "Though perhaps a salutary lesson on what to expect should she be..." 

The intern shot Ash a look, mouth falling open at the unexpected betrayal.

"Hmm, yes, I think so," The Boss agreed. She crossed the room to the armless couch sitting against the opposite wall, a rainbow-striped knit blanket draped over the back. "Come here, little one."

The intern wanted to turn and run, but Ash squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Go on," she whispered. "It's alright, sweetheart."

Slowly, the girl crossed to stand in front of The Boss, squeaking as the older woman leaned in to pat her shoulder.

"Color, Lyssa, sweetheart?" The Boss whispered, eyes softening, breaking character for a moment.

She swallowed. "Green," she whispered back.

"Okay." She squeezed her intern's hand, falling back into character. "If I have cause to punish you for shirking your duties, you will be over my lap," she said. "Naughty little girls fit best in that position, wouldn't you say?"

The intern nodded apprehensively, and bent over The Boss' lap, letting herself be tugged into place over the so-familiar thighs. She felt a gentle hand on her back, caressing her braid for a moment, before the other hand turned up her skirt and patted her leggings-clad bottom.

Her legs scissored and she let out a squeak.

When the first spank fell, it made the intern jump. Five more fell in quick succession, warming her bottom cheeks, none of them terribly severe through the seat of her leggings but enough to impart a mild sting.

The Boss continued spanking until her intern was sniffling, tears trickling from hazel eyes down pale cheeks. Then she stilled her hand, tugging the girl's skirt back down into place, and righted the girl on her lap.

"Good girl," The Boss praised her, petting her hair. "So brave and so good for me, darling. It's alright, scene's over, honey." Her eyes softened and her arms tightened around Alyssa, and suddenly she was just Becky again, just Brunn, warm and safe and real. "Okay, sweetheart?"

Alyssa Naeher snuggled into Becky's arms. "I'm okay," she promised, as Brunn cuddled her. "You're scary when you want to be, you know."

"I know," Becky chuckled. "But never too much, I hope." She stroked the keeper's braid, rubbing her back.

"Not too much," Alyssa agreed, and rested her head on Becky's shoulder.

Chapter Text

"Gio."

Gio Reyna stiffened, pressing further into the corner his mother had planted him in. He had been whisked away from his girlfriend's side so fast he still felt dizzy, and to be ordered to the corner and escorted inside in front of Alyssa had made his face flame with embarrassment.

Now another familiar voice was getting his attention, and he didn't know whether he should turn around. Playing in Germany as he did, he'd found himself too familiar with this particular German keeper. An American boy playing in Germany, a German player-coach based in the US - well, sometimes their paths had briefly crossed, and he knew enough of Nadine Angerer to be careful.

"Tante Nadine," he said, erring on the side of respect. "Am I allowed out now?"

Nadine hmm-ed. "That depends. I know some of Alyssa's teammates have discussed your behavior with you, but I don't think we've quite finished, do you?"

Gio swallowed hard. He would love to tell her that yes, they were definitely finished, but-- "No, ma'am."

"That's what I thought. In fact I have it on good authority that you asked your girlfriend to spank you if she wanted to."

Gio's receding blush burned hot again. How in God's name did she know that?! But Nadine wasn't waiting for him to respond. "I don't think that's quite appropriate, do you?" she continued. "Still, it's obvious you knew you needed more discipline."

Gio fidgeted nervously. "Yes, Tante Nadine."

"Come here, Giovanni."

Gio felt all of six years old as he turned from the corner to face Nadine Angerer. A cursory examination of the women's footballer revealed no obvious implements to hand.

Of course not, Reyna; she doesn't need them, he reminded himself. The thought was not comforting.

Nadine seated herself on the couch. looking pointedly at Gio, who quickly moved to stand in front of her.

Then she tugged him down over her lap, and he fell into position with a yelp that he quickly stifled. He didn't want Alyssa to hear him cry.

Nadine didn't bother adjusting Gio's clothing; he'd arrived dressed for football practice, knowing he, AT and the others would be playing outside, and his shorts were negligible protection. She swatted down hard with her hand, once to each bottom cheek, and he sucked in a breath as the hard spanks landed.

That's Tante Nadine's HAND? Gio thought, bucking, flailing and twisting as much as Nadine allowed (not much) as she continued to spank him. He was keeping his teeth firmly clenched, doing his best not to let so much as a whimper escape as the keeper warmed his bottom - but it was hard work.

After about a minute of this, Nadine sighed, betraying her irritation. "Get up."

Gio blinked twice, trying to comprehend the order. "What?"

"On your feet, Reyna."

Gio scrambled up, hardly daring to hope Nadine was done with him. She turned and planted one socked foot on the middle of the couch (they weren't wearing their shoes inside). 

"Drop them and get over." She had the satisfaction of watching his mouth drop open in shock.

"Tante Nadine!"

"One, Giovanni."

Gio knew better than to let anyone start counting, and scrambled to obey, albeit reluctantly. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down to just below his bottom, glad his shirt was long enough to still keep him mostly covered.

He leaned awkwardly over Nadine's thigh, and she pulled him over further, positioning him properly. Gio was still hardly more than a teenager, Nadine reflected, wrapping her arm around him to keep him in place. He clearly hadn't been thinking, or acting, like an adult. If she wanted him to grow up with a good head on his shoulders, he had to learn not to make stupid decisions - up to and including in his relationships, be they friendships or romantic.

With that in mind, she let the first firm smack land squarely across Gio's bottom, impacting both cheeks. The yelp that elicited was much more satisfactory, and Nadine kept spanking steadily, reddening Gio's bottom evenly.

Gio couldn't squirm any more with Nadine's arm restraining him, so he had no choice but to take it. Still, his legs scissored, and he couldn't help the whimpers escaping his lips after that first shocked yelp. He tried to keep any more than that quiet, but as the color in his bottom approached that of a red card, it was becoming steadily harder.

Especially now that Tante Nadine was focusing on the tender curve of his bottom where it met his thighs.

Gio kicked harder, fighting the urge to curse as tears streamed down his face. "S-sorry, Tante Nadine, I'm sorry, I didn't think, I was horrible to Alyssa, leaving her there, I'll never do it again I swear," he cried.

Nadine gave Gio a final swat for good measure (so he didn't think begging off would be enough) but she judged he was contrite enough, and pulled him back to his feet. Gio hurried to pull his shorts back on, blushing as vibrantly as his bottom.

He struggled to get his tears under control,  and a minute later found himself in Nadine's embrace.

"Tante, sorry..." he whimpered.

"I know," Nadine soothed Gio. "It's alright Gio, all finished little one. Breathe, Tante Nadine has you."

Gio stayed in Nadine's arms until he had cried himself out, letting her rub his back and soothe him. Being in Nadine's embrace wasn't much different from being in his own mother's, he thought, though it had been a little while (not as long as he liked to think, though) since Danielle had held him that way.

"Good boy," Nadine murmured. "And we won't be having any more of this, hmm? Running out on your date, leaving her alone, no matter who calls you?"

"No ma'am, I won't anymore," Gio promised meekly. "I'll take care of Alyssa, I promise."

Nadine nodded, and kissed Gio's forehead lightly, letting him go. "Alright then, little one. Let's get you tidied up and back to Alyssa."

She steered Gio into the kitchen, using a damp cloth to wipe Gio's face for him. He squirmed under the attention, but his smarting bottom kept him from protesting the maternal action. She finger-combed his mussed hair into order, rather than looking for a hairbrush (for which Gio was profoundly grateful).

"Thank you, Tante Nadine," he said instead, once she had finished with him.

"You're welcome." Nadine led Gio back outside, and he was immediately accosted by his new girlfriend.

"Are you okay?" AT whispered anxiously. "Did Nadine--"

"She did," Gio grimaced. "I don't want to discuss it please."

"Alright," AT agreed quietly. "I'm sorry, though. That she did."

Gio was just glad, for his part, that it was over. His backside would burn for a while - never cross Nadine Angerer again, Reyna, he told himself, but at least she had forgiven him.

And with that, Gio was sure everyone had.

Chapter Text

"Wake up, lillan."

Sofia yawned and stretched, whimpering at the ache in her backside. She turned her head to see Christen smiling sympathetically at her.

"I know, Sofia, sweetheart," she said softly. "Believe me, I know all too well," she added, and Sofia nodded - she could believe that. "It's alright Sofia, up you get." She helped Sofia out of bed, and hugged her close. "It's alright to stay in your pjs for this, we'll just be driving through."

Sofia nodded. She did put her shoes on at the door, though, and when Alyssa appeared with Tobin, she saw her lillasyster was already in her pjs too. Their stomachs growled - they'd slept a good part of the day away, missing lunch entirely. 

"It's alright, my loves," Tobin soothed them. "I've got this for you two to share in the back." She held a covered basket in one hand, and a pillow in the other.

Sofia blushed.

The little family went out to the car together, Tobin settling the girls in the back (with the pillow for Sofia to sit on) and giving them the basket of food to share - sandwiches and vegetables, slices of Swiss roll cake, and (courtesy of a coffee shop drive thru they went to before heading off), cups of hot chocolate for the four of them. 

As they drove through the streets of Los Angeles, lights and decorations were everywhere. Sofia and Alyssa thoroughly enjoyed them, each of the girls pointing out their favorite sights to the others, and to Tobin and Christen. 

Sofia's favorite was a giant polar bear overlooking someone's front yard, its head moving back and forth. 

"That'll scare off anyone who tries to steal gifts," she commented. Alyssa giggled.

That was still a precursor to the main event, though. Their drive ended in the parking lot of the Los Angeles Zoo, looking very different by night than it did during daytime.

Sofia gave Tobin and Christen a sideways look from the back seat. "We can't drive through that."

Christen chuckled sympathetically. "No, lillan, we have to walk, but we could get you a wheelchair if you aren't feeling up to it."

The Swedish girl glared at the back of Christen's head. "I can do it," she protested.

AT hugged Sofia comfortingly.

The four of them got out of the car, Christen with their tickets for the Zoo Lights event. It was closed on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day itself, so tonight was the last night they could go before Christmas.

Of course, it was crowded, though not to the extent of the normal zoo crowds. Sofia walked beside Alyssa, holding her lillasyster's hand. Most of the pain had faded already, her switching had been hours ago, but the pain was still there a little bit. She tried to ignore it and focus on the exhibits, brilliantly lit. No live animals would be visible; they were in the indoor parts of their exhibits, asleep, and weren't to be disturbed. But the light displays - from California Condor Peak all the way through the Zebra Savanna - were brilliant and beautiful, and Sofia was glad they had come.

Alyssa was glad, too. She cuddled close to her storasyster, pointing out what she liked best about the displays. Some of them flashed, or played snatches of loud music, and while those were a bit surprising they were still fun. She skipped by Sofia's side, chattering about how glad she was their Mamás had brought them.

Though the real animals were asleep, the light displays simulated the animals; both Tobin and Christen had fun asking their girls which animals each thing represented and seeing how much they knew as they walked along. Many of the animals, Sofia hadn't seen before. 

"Look, Sofia, look, Mamá Christen, Mamá Tobin, it's a tunnel!" AT squealed at the end of their walk. They had made their way through the Zoo, examining all sorts of lights and displays as the path meandered along. "Do you think there's something special at the end?"

"The exit, maybe, lillasyster?" Sofia teased.

It wasn't, though - to get out, they had to circle back to the entrance. But going through the tunnel, all aglow with light, made Alyssa cheerful and playful. She pounced on Sofia when they were inside, squealing happily. "Sofia, look, it's shiny!"

"Ow--I see it is, Alyssa," Sofia groaned, taking a step back to keep her balance. "Settle down please."

"Sorry," Alyssa said, calming down a little bit. "But it's pretty!"

"It is," Sofia agreed as they circled around and headed back down the path. Tobin smiled and hugged Alyssa affectionately.

"Behave please, little love, you don't want to hurt Sofia." The mild scolding was enough - AT could tell Tobin wasn't really mad, and she nodded. 

"Si Mamá Tobin, I'll be good."

"That's our good girl," Tobin said gently, walking behind AT and Sofia, with Christen at her side. Alyssa, her hand clasped in Sofia's, started humming happily to herself as she skipped along.

Luckily the music was loud enough that no one seemed to object to AT's softer humming.

When they got back to the cafe and souvenir shop, the four got new cups of hot chocolate (in the Zoo's souvenir travel mugs) and Christmas cookies, and Sofia insisted on buying a stuffed toy for Alyssa, having her pick her favorite (a giraffe. A pink and purple giraffe.)

The multicolored giraffe accompanied them back to the car, and AT busied herself thinking of a name for it. 

They were well on their way home when AT announced, "I'm going to call her Phoebe."

"Phoebe?" Sofia blinked.

"Because I got her on Christmas Eve Eve," AT said, as though it explained everything.

Christen and Tobin exchanged glances. They, at least, understood the reference.

"That's a good name, little love," Tobin agreed. Christen nodded.

"It's a pretty name, lillasyster," Sofia said.

Despite the long nap they'd had that day, walking through the zoo's lights displays had tired the girls out again; by the time they got back home, both Sofia and Alyssa were ready for bed.

"Can I snuggle with you, Sofia?" Alyssa asked. "Me and Phoebe want cuddles."

"Alright, lillasyster," Sofia agreed.

The two went to Sofia's room, AT's arms firmly wrapped around her new plush friend, and got into bed. The Swedish girl put her arms around Alyssa, holding her close as the two drifted off, and Tobin tucked them in together.

"Happy Christmas Eve Eve, my little loves," she murmured. "Sleep well."

Chapter Text

Alyssa skipped down the path leading up to the sanctuary, one hand firmly in Tobin's as her guardian led her along. Christen walked on Tobin's other side, and Sofia was keeping a protective hand on AT's shoulder as they passed through the gate together.

There were so many ducks! Even a few geese! The little one turned pleading eyes on her guardians. "Can I pet them?" she begged, and it broke Tobin's heart to say no. 

"I'm sorry sweetheart. They're not meant to be touched unless someone who works here says you can. They're all here because something scary happened to them, or they got sick or hurt, and needed a good place to feel better."

AT sucked on her lower lip anxiously. "So...it's like a big bird hospital? Except they get to play outside?"

"Exactly like," Tobin agreed, nodding. "That's what wildlife rescues do. They're here to heal the animals, and protect them from getting hurt again."


"Oh." Alyssa nodded, obediently staying close to Tobin as they walked along the path. She watched the trio of geese chasing the ducks around - there were so many ducks she'd lost count, and for the little one that just meant there were lots and very lots and who knew how many but it was fun to try and count them all. As she walked quietly with Christen, Tobin, Sofia, and the Reynas, AT could see what Mamá Tobin meant by the birds being hurt or sick. There was even a duck with prosthetic feet. She couldn't help staring a bit at that.

"Look, Mamá Tobin, it's like Carson except it's feet instead of her arm," AT said.

"I see that," Tobin mused, wondering what Carson Pickett would think of the little one's comparison. She didn't care to wear a prosthetic arm, doing just fine without one. Feet, Tobin supposed, would be a different story. Especially for a duck.


"Do you think the birds know it's New Year's Eve Eve?" AT asked, snuggling close, and Christen patted her head gently.

"I think," she said diplomatically, "birds probably have their own way of thinking of such things. But unfortunately none of us can speak bird, sweetheart, so we can't know."

"I wish I'd brought my geese so I could show them the geese I have. Do these geese lay eggs like in the song?"


"They probably do, mija." Claudio Reyna stepped smoothly into the conversation, noticing Tobin and Christen getting a little overwhelmed. "But it's just as well that you didn't, because what if you had left them here by accident?"

"Mmm...then they'd take care of them until I could have them back because that's what they do here," AT offered.

That, Claudio had to admit, was entirely likely. He looked at his son, who was stifling a grin - really, Gio's girlfriend was adorable, if somewhat exasperating while in her little space. Still, they wouldn't change her for anything. Alyssa was Alyssa, no matter her present state.

"I'm glad you're not going to lose them, mi corazón. Have you thought of names for your birds yet?" he prompted.

"Oh, of course," Alyssa replied promptly, sounding surprised that Gio had to ask. "The mama goose's name is Alex, because that's a good name for a mama bird, and the little ones are Charlie, of course, and then there's Sloane and Ocean and Marcel and Madden." 

Gio didn't need help understanding where she'd got the names. "I'm sure your Tia Alex will be so pleased, mi corazón. Those are all very good names." He smiled warmly. 

"The partridge's name is Danielle and the blackbird's name is Claudio and they're married," Alyssa chattered on, and Gio covered a grin, glancing at his parents, who chuckled fondly. 

"Are they?" 

"Uh huh." Alyssa giggled. "Do they have swans here?"


"Mm...not right now, I think," Danielle murmured. "But they could, if any needed help." 

"I'm glad they don't need help, but I'd like to see swans," Alyssa said thoughtfully.


Gio thought of the basketful of paper swans he'd folded after coming home last night. There were a good deal more than seven. But that was for tomorrow...and they were packed carefully away, waiting.

Tomorrow would be a very special day indeed, Gio thought. He couldn't wait.

But today - today was for focusing on his love's happiness here and now, little or not.

"I'm sure there will be swans for you soon," he said gently, giving AT a hug. "Don't worry, mi corazón. Not here, but somewhere special."


"Everywhere with you is special, Gio," AT beamed, and he kissed her cheek. 

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm happy to be here with you."


They spent the day walking the trails and admiring the birds. When the Preath household and the Reynas left the sanctuary, they had a worn out little girl on their hands - which was all to the good, since their stop back home was only a brief one. They had to herd Alyssa out to the car again, Tobin and Sofia loading the suitcases up.

As they drove south, Alyssa fell asleep, her head on Sofia's shoulder as the Swedish girl hummed Disney songs to her. She dreamed of magic castles, princesses, and Star Wars, and dozed for what felt like hours.

(She'd practically sleepwalked her way through the airport, supported by Sofia, but thankfully their mamas had pre-booked everything.)

On the plane, she'd fallen asleep properly, snuggled between Sofia and Tobin.

When she finally woke up (still rather groggy), it was night time, and they'd arrived at their destination. Their bags were brought to the shuttle, and AT settled in for the ride to the hotel between her Mamá Tobin and Mamá Christen. 

In the end, Tobin ended up carrying the sleepy teenager up to their suite while Christen and Sofia handled their bags, the Reynas following behind. 

Their room, Sofia thought as she helped Tobin put her lillasyster to bed, looked like something straight out of The Jungle Cruise. That wouldn't help AT's confusion when she woke.

But hopefully the surprise vacation would be worth it.

Chapter Text

The Preaths and Reynas spent most of the morning picking up origami swans (after duly posing for pictures with them). Alyssa counted each one as it was carefully placed in a ziploc bag. "Seven hundred?" she demanded as they got to the last one.

"Seven hundred and seven, counting the wind-up ones I put in the tub," Gio said offhandedly. "And there's seventy more in the bag in Mamá and Papi's room."

"What."

That was Danielle, whose flat tone made it more statement than question. She raised an eyebrow at her son, folding her arms across her chest as she regarded him sternly.

"I left them in the bag, I didn't put them all over. They were extras in case something happened to these ones."

"Giovanni."

"Mamá," Gio turned the puppy eyes look on her.

Danielle looked unimpressed. "Go get them."

"But Mamá--"

"Now, Giovanni." Danielle aimed a swat at Gio's backside, which he nimbly dodged and then he hurried to obey.

He returned a few minutes later with a smaller plastic bag stuffed with origami swans. "Here, Mamá. This is the rest of them."

"Seven hundred and seventy-seven swans?" AT asked. She'd picked up the wind-up swans from the tub and was holding them, along with the bulging bag of seven hundred swans, in her lap as she sat at the kitchen table. "Why seven hundred and seventy-seven, Gio?"

"Because seven is good luck, and three sevens are even better," Gio explained. "So I thought that would be the best number." He sat down next to her, putting the other bag in her lap. "Do you like them, mi corazón?"

"I love them," Alyssa assured him. "Only I don't know what to do with seven hundred and seventy paper swans," she admitted.

"Swan garlands, swan lanterns..." Gio said thoughtfully.

"Swan lanterns?" AT asked.

"Oh, you know...people release lanterns to have wishes granted on the New Year. Chinese New Year, mostly, but maybe we could go down to the water and float the swans away with little candles or something to hold our wishes." 

"Seven hundred would be a lot of wishes. And a lot of candles," AT said thoughtfully.

"I think you should keep most of them for garlands then, mi corazón."

“I think so,” AT allowed. “But that’s still a lot of swans. Can I give some of them to our friends?” she asked. “Just the paper swans, not the swimming ones. Because there’s so many. Do you think maybe…maybe Clarisse might like some of them? To say thank you for taking care of our chickens?”

“You’re starting to ramble a bit again, corazón,” Gio said fondly, giving her a light kiss. “But I think that would be just fine, yes. There are a lot,” he agreed. “Perhaps I went a bit overboard.”

“A bit?” Danielle murmured, shaking her head.

Now that the kitchen was clean, Tobin and Christen had set out a hearty brunch for the family. They’d ordered room service, as there’d been no time to cook anything, and the Preaths and Reynas sat down together to eat.

After their meal, they made sure they were all presentable to go out walking and swimming, taking the winding resort trail on the edge of the beach, through the thicket of palm trees and vines out to what appeared to be jungle ruins. The pool was long and rectangular, framed by mysterious carvings, illuminated by green light, and looked like something straight out of a crumbling, ancient temple.

“Are we sure it’s appropriate to have Gio and Alyssa in the pool together?” Sofia asked her mamas.

“As long as they behave themselves,” Tobin replied. “Will you stay here with the Reynas and watch over them, sweetheart?”

Sofia tactfully did not ask what her mamas intended to do, off alone by themselves. It was none of her business. “Of course. How long can we stay here?”

“Until dinnertime, but if you’re finished earlier, then text and let us know,” Tobin instructed. Sofia nodded obediently.

“Alright Mama Tobin.” 

Tobin and Christen gave Sofia and Alyssa hugs, with admonitions to Alyssa to behave, please, before they parted from the group for an afternoon of relaxation at the beach party (no children permitted).

AT and Gio, for their part, dove, swam and splashed in the pool happily, making sure to keep their behavior within appropriate limits. Gio’s parents and Sofia were still there watching, after all.

After the Reynas decided the pair had enough time in the pool, they got out and dried off, putting their cover-ups on and walking on the beach. Claudio texted Tobin and Christen, letting them know where they were, and they returned to their rooms in time to get ready for dinner.

Dinner, AT quickly found out, was at the hotel’s bar, which was followed by a bonfire and dance party going on down at the beach.

After their meal (where AT and Gio had to be satisfied with mocktails while the adults drank margaritas) they spent the next few hours listening to, and dancing to, the vibrant music. AT spent more time in Gio’s arms than she had been allowed before, and although they were being strictly supervised by both their families, she felt as though she was floating. Tobin wouldn’t let go of Christen, of course, but Claudio did his paternal duty and danced with Alyssa  (while Danielle or Sofia partnered Gio), and Sofia by turns, as well as dancing with Danielle. When Sofia wasn’t being attended by Claudio or Gio, she flirted and danced with strangers, though never slipped off alone. She definitely never accepted drinks from anyone she didn’t know.

Sofia knew better than that.

As midnight drew near, Gio took AT away from his father one more time, spinning his girlfriend out into the dance. She was definitely tired, he saw, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly as somewhere nearby, the bells began to chime.
As the bell clanged, Gio drew Alyssa close and kissed her deeply, holding her against his chest. When the last chime died away, he released her.

“Feliz año nuevo, mi corazón.”

Chapter Text

Sophia Smith sat down in front of her laptop, ready to record the promo she'd been asked to do for the SheBelieves Cup coming up. It was a nice diversion as she recovered from her surgery - something she'd hopefully have healed from by the time of the SheBelieves Cup in Orlando, but which had sidelined her for the January friendlies.

"Hey everyone, it's Sophia Smith here, forward for the US Women's National Team," she said brightly, smiling for the camera. "We're so excited to be heading back to Orlando for the SheBelieves Cup. Get your tickets today, and we'll see you soon." As her eyes darted downward, checking her notes for the next line, though, someone jumped in on the Zoom call.

She blinked. "What the..."

It was Becky Sauerbrunn.

"Oh, hey Soph, what's up?" Becky asked casually, startling a laugh out of Sophia.

"Becky...what the...are you crashing my Zoom call?" the young forward sputtered.

Becky looked startled, as if she'd only just realized Sophia was doing something potentially important. "Ohh, well actually I have some really big news to announce, and US Soccer thought this would be the best way to do it," she explained, as her camera took over the frame.

"Okay," Sophia said cautiously, as the camera split between them again.

Becky nodded. "So," she began, "Basically, Soph, congratulations, you've been voted--" She fought the urge to smile as her young teammate's jaw dropped in realization. "The 2022 BioSteel Women's Soccer Female Athlete of the Year," she finished, as Sophia grinned proudly. "Congratulations!" Becky added, clapping as Sophia laughed.

"Oh my God," Sophia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She felt a little bit embarrassed, but extremely proud to have won this huge honor. "I can't believe this," she muttered.

"You've had such an amazing year, I've been so lucky and honored to see you play for both club and country, the achievements, the awards, they are so well deserved, Soph," Becky said earnestly. "And I know 2022 was wonderful, but I got a feeling that 2023 is gonna be even more amazing for you." Looking into Becky's eyes, Sophia could tell that she really meant it, that this was all her captain had hoped and dreamed for her.

"Thanks, Beck, that means so much," Sophia said, trying not to cry from sheer happiness. "Coming from you...I'm so glad they picked you to tell me."

"I know--well, I was like...your first roommate," Becky pointed out, remembering the shy sixteen-year-old coming into her first international camp all those years ago. 

"You were my very first roommate," Sophia agreed, clearly remembering the same. "This is so cool. Thank you Beck, this is so exciting."

"Good, I'm glad," Becky said warmly. "I mean, I could let you go back to the promo reads, but honestly, this is way better."

Sophia shook her head, grinning. She was alone on camera again. "I couldn't think of a better person than Becky, because she's who I like--started my senior team journey with, at the age of sixteen, and she made that very tough and intimidating camp a lot easier, and then just growing and getting to know her, um, being in Portland has been the best time every because she's just an amazing human being and obviously one of the best players, so to get to learn from her each and every day has been so amazing and she's obviously someone that I look up to in all aspects of life, so to have her tell me this news was -- yeah, it was just really fun. Because I love Becky," she finished.

I love you too, kiddo, Becky thought, watching with her camera off as Soph finished up her video. And we're gonna have a little talk now, you and I. She smiled slightly to herself. Soph was one of the sweetest kids on the team, since Becky had met her six years ago. But no award, no milestone, went without a little reminder to keep one's head out of the clouds and your feet on the ground. After six years, she knew Soph knew that and would be expecting it.

So when Becky turned up at the door of Soph's apartment twenty minutes later, and knocked, the twenty-two year old opened it right away. She was limping a little, keeping her weight off her wrapped foot, and Becky stepped inside, closing the door behind her and scooping Soph into her arms. "Alright kiddo, that's enough standing for a little while," she said.

Sophia ducked her head. "Aww, Beck, not right now?" she offered, her eyes round and innocent.

Becky rolled her eyes. "Yes right now, little one," she said mildly, "I know you hate waiting for things."

"I might want to make an exception."

"M-hmm. Brat," Becky teased gently as she carried Soph back to her room. 

Sophia pouted. "Brunn..."

Becky deposited Sophia on the bed, and the younger girl sat upright, scrambling out of Becky's way as the older woman rummaged in her shoulder bag for something. She had an inkling she knew what. 

When she emerged with the round USWNT paddle, about the size and thickness of a ping pong paddle, Sophia let out a small whine. "Becky..."

"Mmm?" Becky raised an eyebrow. "Color, little one?"

"Green, but Becky," Sophia grumbled.

"Just complaining for form's sake?" Becky laughed as Sophia nodded. She sat down on Sophia's bed, and the girl crawled over her lap, assuming the position compliantly enough despite her mild protest.

"There's my good girl," Becky murmured.

Sophia nodded. "Only, not too hard please, Beck?"

"Just enough," Becky promised.

Sophia squirmed a bit as Becky flipped the back of her skirt up, beginning the spanking over her shorts. Probably because I whined at her, Sophia realized, but the first dozen spanks were mild, just Becky's hand, and only just beginning to raise a sting by the time the set was finished. 

Then Becky tapped her hip meaningfully, and Sophia sighed, pushing herself up so Becky could let down her shorts. She buried her face in her folded arms as Becky's hand smacked her bare bottom four more times.

After the sixteenth spank, there was a pause, and Sophia swallowed, turning her head to look back over her shoulder just as the paddle tapped her bottom.

She turned her head away again.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. The swats with the paddle were harder than those with Becky's hand, of course, but not delivered any more forcefully. Sophia was tearful, but not sobbing, as Becky lifted her up into a hug and righted her disordered clothing for her.

"Okay sweetheart, there's a good girl," Becky murmured. "Just a little reminder, that's all, Soph."

Sophia nodded, sniffling. "T-thank you Beck."

"Of course, Soph," Becky said fondly. "I take care of my team. And I love you, too."

"I don't love that though," Sophia ventured, looking at the paddle as Becky put it away.

"No one ever does," Becky said, rubbing Sophia's back gently. "Easy, easy, sweetheart, it's alright."

Slowly, Sophia's breathing eased and she yawned. 

"M'tired, Beck."

"That's alright, Soph. You need your sleep," Becky said. "How about we get you tucked into bed, little one, and I'll have Kling look in on you later if you need anything?"

Sophia didn't argue it - she probably didn't need the pull-up Becky got her into, but with that and the warm onesie Becky dressed her in, she felt small, safe, and protected. "Auntie Kling's gonna come?"

"M-hmm. I have to get going, Soph," Becky said regretfully. "Got places to be."

"New Zealand," Sophia remembered.

Becky nodded. She tucked Sophia into bed, making sure her foot was propped up comfortably, and ensured Soph had Meghan Klingenberg's number in her phone. She trusted her fellow Portland Thorn to take care of their little one while she was gone. "Do you want your stuffie, honey?"

"Uh huh."

Becky fetched Soph's plush koala - a gift from Alanna Kennedy - and tucked him in with her. "Alright, sweetheart. Rest well and feel better. I'll let you know when I make it Down Under, even if it's just a text."

"Thanks, Beck." Sophia yawned, and in a moment she was sound asleep. 

Becky saw herself out and locked up behind her - both she and Kling had keys to Soph's apartment, so it'd be fine. "Get well soon, little one," she murmured as she headed out. "We'll need you in Orlando."

After the friendlies, after all, SheBelieves was coming.

Chapter Text

Alex waited until she and Ali were in their seats to turn to the older footballer.

"What were you talking about at Press and Heath's place?"

Ali gave Alex a slow smirk. "As if you don't know, Alexandra Patricia Morgan."

"Humor me, Alexandra Lowe Riley," Alex retorted, and Ali snorted.

"You like to play games, don't you, Alex? Other than the obvious," she gestured to the plane full of their teammates - well, mostly Alex's teammates, aside from a handful of college kids who Riley had the dubious pleasure of shepherding back Down Under. The rest of the Football Ferns would be jetting in from other locales, not LAX.

Luckily for the pair, the younger Ferns seemed determined to sleep off the journey if they could.

"Yes, I like games," Alex replied. "Have you been talking to Wambach or something?"

"Maybe," Ali smirked.

"Of course you have," Alex rolled her eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, just a little friendly wager. These are friendly matches, after all, aren't they?"

"Yes..." Alex raised her eyebrows. "What are the terms, the outcome of the matches?"

"Oh, now, I wouldn't be betting on that," Ali hmm-ed. "Wouldn't be fair."

"Then what is it?"

Ali gave Alex a slow smile. "That before we go back States-side, I'll have given you a good thrashing - one way or another."

Alex frowned. "That's what you think, Riley." She gave her friend and former Pride teammate a wary look. "I'd just like to see you try."

"You bet I will."

Chapter Text

Shea Groom threw herself into her workout, running laps around the edge of the pitch to shake off the weird encounter at the supermarket earlier.

What number would you be in the draft? the kid had asked her, when he saw her wearing her Houston Dash logo on her top. What team is that? he had asked, staring. She'd told him matter-of-factly that the Houston Dash was...the women's soccer team...right there, in Houston. 

"Oh, so what number would you be if you were picked?" he'd asked.

"My jersey number, I guess," she'd answered, posting her recollection of the whole confusing encounter on Instagram. "Just Google it," she'd added repeatedly, frustrated, sounding disdainful even to her own ears. He had just been some kid, some teenager, a stranger in a store - but how could he not know about the Houston Dash, she wondered, shaking her head incredulously.

"Hey, Shea," a voice called out, the familiar Canadian accent bringing Shea to heel. She growled under her breath. 

"Schmidt, what are you doing here?" she demanded.

"You've been running long enough. Come inside." Sophie tipped her head in the direction of the lockers, and, grumbling under her breath, Shea trotted after the older girl.

"I'm fine."

"Instagram post says you're not," Sophie Schmidt said calmly, the Canadian watching the American. Sophie folded her arms and stood at ease, leaning against the wall. "And your little temper tantrum says you're not. Corner, right now please."

Shea's jaw dropped. "Excuse me? I will not."

"One," Sophie said pointedly.

"You can't make me do shit, you're not my captain. We don't have a captain right now since Rach went back to England and--"

"Two, Shea Ellese."

Shea's eyes widened. "No!"

"Two and a half." Sophie whisked the Houston paddle out from behind her back, gesturing to the corner with it. "Last chance, little one."

“I’m not little, not like that kid--”

“Three.”

Shea yelped as she found herself whirled around and propelled into the nearest corner, nose planted firmly facing the wall.

“Sophie!” She whined at the older footballer. The Canadian’s response was a light tap from the paddle over her jean shorts.

Shea squirmed.

“What? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Image, Shea, image,” Sophie scolded. “When you go out in public wearing our logo you represent us. Scoffing at some boy because he didn’t know who you were, whining about it on social media - it’s just not a good look. Not after half the league’s just been fined and a quarter of the coaches have been investigated and sacked permanently.”

“Exaggeration.”

“Not by much,” Sophie said grimly. “If you’re going to represent us out there you’re going to be a good girl about it, understand?”

“Or what?” Shea demanded.

The paddle swatted down firmly, and Shea yelped.

“Sophie! Why are you anyway,” she protested, “you’re not the captain, Rach left…”

Sophie turned Shea around, pulling her close.

“Alright Shea,” she said quietly. “No more smacks - for now. You’re right, I’m not the captain and we haven’t one yet, not with Daly gone to Aston Villa. Not that I begrudge her needing to go home,” the Canadian conceded. “Hopefully after the draft, and before preseason, we’ll get all that sorted out. But for now - I’m one of the few older than you still here, so please, at least try to pay me some mind? I do know what I’m talking about.”

Shea sighed, looking guilty.

“Yes Sophie, I’m sorry. I just got so annoyed.”

“I know,” Sophie agreed, giving Shea another squeeze. “It’s going to be alright.”

Chapter Text

"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains.."

The off-key singing penetrated Ali Riley's consciousness and she rolled over on her bed, glaring across the room at her roommate, Betsy Hassett. 

Her fellow Football Fern was singing off-key with music on her phone.

"You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas..."

"Hassett," Ali growled under her breath. 

The blonde midfielder was obliviously ignoring her captain's glare, continuing to sing off-key in blissful ignorance.

"Some of us are knackered and trying to take a nap over here."

Betsy didn't seem bothered, and Ali let out a breath in a huff of annoyance. 

She could, she knew, go over and shut Betsy up with a show of force. She was eldest, she was Captain, a good smack or three might be what her teammate needed to knock sense back into her head. But she wasn't sure Betsy had even heard her.

"Betsy Doon Hassett, I'm warning you." The half-hearted threat was patently ignored.

Sighing, Ali rolled back over and pulled the pillow over her head. She'd recorded the nonsense and put it on Instagram, with the caption "someone help me".

Captain's authority was all well and good, but not when one was too bloody tired to wield it.

In the end, Betsy fell back on her pillows, too tired to keep singing, and Ali sighed in relief. "You got that out of your system now, brat?"

"What?" Betsy asked, all innocence. "Oh sorry Cap, was I bothering you?"

"I'd smack you if I was awake enough to reach you."

"I guess that's a yes."

"Go to sleep, brat."

"Yes ma'am."

Finally, Ali had some peace.

Chapter Text

"In exchange for the number 2 overall pick, KC Current have traded forward Lynn Williams to New York/New Jersey Gotham FC.."

Watching the draft from New Zealand with her national teammates around her, Lynn sat up straight.

What?

She exchanged looks with Adrianna Franch and Hallie Mace. "AD? Did you know about this?"

The goalkeeper raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, did I know? What makes you think I have any insider intel?"

Lynn shrugged, shaking her head helplessly. 

Hallie squeezed Lynn's hand.

"They didn't tell you?" Kristie Mewis exploded, glaring daggers at the screen. She'd jumped to her feet, but Becky Sauerbrunn pulled her back down.

"Did they tell you, Mewie?" Lynn looked at her best friend's big sister, feeling betrayed.

"No, but they should have told you!" Kristie fumed. Lynn felt better - Kristie was just outraged on her behalf then.

"Did they tell anyone?" Brunn asked calmly.

There was a general shaking of heads.

"Does anyone know anything about any trades?"

Another headshake. 

"Then we're all in the dark here and there's to be no more shouting at each other," Brunn said firmly. "Lynn, I am so sorry they sprang this on you. We'll work through getting you, and anyone else who might have been uprooted, settled in the new situation."

Lynn nodded numbly. "It's not as though I've never been moved before," she said apologetically, "so I don't know--"

"You always knew before when it was going to happen. You had input," Kristie said firmly. "Yeah?"

Lynn nodded again.

"Then what happened tonight wasn't fair, at all, but it's no one's fault here. We'll sort it out when we get home," Kristie said more gently. "It's gonna be all right, Lynn."

The forward let out a breath of relief, leaning into Kristie's side as the elder Mewis gave her a sisterly hug. 

"I've got her, Brunn. We're gonna be okay."

The girls stayed huddled close together as the rounds went on - there were some more trades, but nothing that affected them directly.

Until, that is, the Washington Spirit acquired the 32nd pick from OL Reign, as well as OL Reign's natural first round pick for next year, in exchange for "a player to be named later".

Andi Sullivan, the Ashleys (Hatch and Sanchez), and Trinity Rodman exchanged looks with each other. Four gazes fell on Emily Sonnett, who hunched into herself, shaking her head in denial.

"No one said anything to me," she whispered, her voice sounding smaller than usual. "No one said anything." Panic seeped into her tone, and Alex Morgan got to her feet, moving hastily to Emily and pulling the blonde into her arms.

"Mijita, shhh, shhh, Emmy, breathe."

"M-Mama..."

"Shhh," Alex whispered, stroking Emily's hair and pulling the little one into her lap. "Shhh, mijita, Mama's here, darling girl. I need you to listen to me, alright?"

Slowly, Emily nodded, clinging to Alex like a lifeline.

"No one has said it's you, mijita. It could be Andi, or Hatch or Sanchez, or Trinity--"

"Not likely," Trinity muttered, earning herself a sharp swat from Andi. She wisely shut up.

"And if it is you, sweetheart," Alex continued, her tone still warm and reassuring, "then you'll be with Auntie Megan, won't you, Emmy, hmm? And Sofia, Rose, and Alana of course," she added, flashing a smile at the other Reign teammates who were there. "You and Bagel can play with Rose and Wilma all the time."

Emily managed a small smile. "I'd like that," she admitted. "And...and it's not like Kell's at Washington anymore, anyways, she's at Gotham where Lynn's going." And not here, she added silently.

"It's gonna be all right, Emmy," Sofia murmured. "If we do take you home with us, you're not going to be alone. Alex's right, we'll have such a good time together."

"Okay," Emily whispered.

Alex cuddled her little one comfortingly. After the draft ended, the confirmation came from OL Reign - the player they had traded for was Emily Sonnett.

"Come here, Emmy?" Sofia prompted, holding her arms out. 

Emily propelled herself into the older girl's arms, welcoming the hug.

"It's okay, Emmy. You'll be alright," Sofia promised. "We'll take such good care of you, you just be yourself." 

Emily nodded, letting herself relax in Sofia's arms as Rose petted her hair.

"It's okay Saucy, Rose's gotcha," she murmured. "We're all here for you. And look on the bright side, you don't have to work with Mark anymore," she added.

Emily's head came up and she scowled at the thought of Mark - who'd traded her away from her beloved Portland to Orlando in the first place. The only good thing that had come of that trade was closeness to Mama Alex - who was in San Diego now anyways. At least they'd be on the same coast again, so maybe Mark had done her a favor.

"Good," Emily said quietly, swallowing her tears. "I'll do my best to be good."

"Of course you will, mijita," Alex said softly. "You're a good girl, Emily."

"Even when you're a bit of a brat sometimes, they don't call you 'Saucy' for nothing," Brunn teased gently, tugging a lock of Emily's hair. "It's alright, you're safe little one."

Emily took a breath and settled down, favoring Brunn with a smile. "Safe until we beat Portland, you mean," she said.

Words I never thought I'd say. 

"We'll see," Brunn replied fondly. She checked her watch. "It's just about time to get ready for dinner," she told her teammates. "Let's get going."

Lynn and Emily weren't particularly hungry, but they wouldn't disagree with Brunn in Captain mode. The girls all scattered to tidy up and head out for food.

Chapter Text

"Hassett."

The New Zealander propped herself up on her elbows, scooting back and sitting up properly. She gave her Captain a wary look.

"All right, Cap?"

"No thanks to you," Ali said. "What are the rules about bedtime on this team?"

Betsy grimaced. "Come on, Riley, I'm thirty-two, not twelve."

Ali raised an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me. One more time, Hassett. What are the rules?"

Betsy sighed, looking extremely put upon. "To go directly to bed when told to."

"And?" Ali prompted.

"To not disturb someone else who's already in bed. But Cap, you weren't in bed, you were on your bed." 

Ali Riley folded her arms, looking at Betsy sternly. "If you're trying to convince me you're not twelve, Hassett, you're doing the exact opposite."

Betsy fidgeted. "Sorry."

"I'll believe it when I see it. I sent you to bed - I sent the entire team to bed - for our own good, so we could rest after our trip," Ali replied. "You disrespected me and my need to rest, as well as your need to rest."

"I wasn't tired."

"Excuse me?"

Betsy didn't answer.

"No answer? I thought not. Alright, here's what we're going to do." Ali leveled her sternest glare on her roommate. "You're going to go stand in that corner by the door--" She indicated the one opposite the window and away from the TV, "until I tell you that you can leave it. You'll be there at least half an hour and don't try begging off."

Betsy's jaw dropped.

"I'm not four years old, Riley!"

"I know you're not. If you were I'd have put you there for four minutes," Ali retorted. "Just for that we'll call it at least thirty-five minutes. After that, we're going to have a discussion about your disrespect. I think a warm bottom will help you focus while you write your lines for me."

Betsy sputtered. "Riley!"

"That's Captain or ma'am, and you're getting in that corner right now," Ali said sharply. "Face to the wall, no talking."

Gulping, Betsy got moving. Halfway across the room, she stopped. "But what if I have to use the loo?"

"Do you right now?"

Betsy shook her head.

"Then you'll just have to hold it."

Swallowing, Betsy pressed herself into the corner, holding as still as she could. She hadn't seen Riley so mad in a long time.

Never mess with a Captain who's short on sleep and undercaffeinated, you idiot, she scolded herself. Now you've done it.

Betsy stayed as still as she could in the corner, hearing the minutes tick by. After five, she was fidgeting. By ten, she was squirming anxiously. At fifteen, she swore under her breath, making Ali look at her.

"Hold still, Hassett. Almost halfway done over there."

"But ma'am--"

Better, Ali thought. "What is it, Hassett?"

"I can't stay here for fifteen more minutes!"

"Twenty," Ali corrected, and Betsy whimpered.

"Let me go, please..."

"Oh, you do have to go to the loo now?" Ali asked.

Betsy nodded, biting her lip.

"What are you going to trade me for it?"

"W-what?"

"If I let you out of the corner now, what will you take in return?" Ali picked up her hairbrush, tossing it lightly up and down in one hand. "Five smacks? Ten? Fifteen?"

"I d-don't know," Betsy whimpered. "Anything, just, please..."

"Fifteen," Ali decided, glancing at her watch. "Go."

Betsy fled.

While her roommate was occupied, Ali got some hotel coffee for herself (not great, but not terrible) and returned to the bed, putting her hairbrush down at her side. She mentally prepared herself for her roommate's return.

If she doesn't just decide to hide in the bathroom, Ali thought sarcastically to herself. That, though, would earn even more extra swats and she didn't think Betsy was that stupid.

Sure enough, five minutes later Betsy emerged, heading for the corner wordlessly.

"Oh no, Hassett, you traded away your cornertime, remember?" Ali said. "Come here."

Swallowing, Betsy obeyed. "Cap, ma'am...."

Ali's gaze softened. "Come sit here with me, Betsy," she said, patting the spot next to her.

Gingerly, Betsy perched next to her Captain, freezing when Ali put an arm around her.

"Hey. Breathe for me," Ali prompted, and Betsy took a shaky breath.

"Cap, I'm sorry..."

"Shhh," Ali soothed her, patting the blonde's back. "I'm sure you are, and it's going to be alright. I don't do takebacks, Betsy, but I don't want you freaking out on me. I've smacked you before, haven't I?"

Blushing, Betsy nodded.

"And you're still here, aren't you?"

Another nod.

"Then it's alright. You're not going to be executed, Hassett. I've got you."

Betsy's blush deepened. "Sorry," she said again, meekly.

"I know. Shorts down and get over my lap when you're ready," Ali prompted. It had been a long time since she'd smacked Betsy, and she hadn't meant to frighten her quite so much.

After another moment, Betsy tugged her shorts to her knees, leaving her knickers in place as she settled over Ali's lap facedown. She buried her face in her folded arms, quivering as Ali rubbed her back.

"Settle down, I have you," Ali coaxed, and slowly, Betsy relaxed, the tension leaving her bottom.

That was when Ali struck, her hand beginning to pepper Betsy's thinly clothed backside with smacks. The blonde midfielder yelped, but clung tightly to the bedcovers and did her best to take her smacking well. Ten swats, twenty, thirty - she couldn't help squirming as Ali moved her hand lower, smacking Betsy's sit spots and undercurve thoroughly.

By the time Betsy had silently counted the fortieth spank, she had nearly forgotten the hairbrush. Then she felt something heavy tap her left bottom cheek, and squealed.

"Easy, easy," Ali murmured. "Just fifteen left, Betsy."

Betsy clung to the hand Ali offered with both of her own, and closed her eyes tightly as the hairbrush fell. The sharp smacks wrenched gasps and yelps from Betsy; she wriggled and kicked, unable to cover up, but Ali managed to land every single swat without needing to repeat any. When all fifteen had been given and Betsy was sobbing, Ali scooped her up, pulling her close.

"Hey, there's my brave girl," Ali murmured. "Good girl, you did it, you took your smacks so well, it's alright." 

She continued whispering soothingly to Betsy as the younger footballer cried herself out, patting her back gently.  "It's alright sweetheart, you're okay," she promised when she felt Betsy was able to hear her again. "Ali's got you safe, Betsy, honey."

Betsy pressed close to Ali, sniffling. "S-sorry...."

"I know," Ali said soothingly. "It's alright Betsy, I'm not mad, it's forgiven," she promised.

"B-but w-what about the lines?" Betsy squeaked, and Ali laughed softly.

"Well, if you're ready to do them now...but I thought you might want to settle and calm down for a little while first."

"But I still have to?" Betsy asked meekly.

"I said no takebacks, sweetheart," Ali reminded her. "But you can stay here with me until you're ready to go do them."

Slowly, Betsy nodded, clinging to Ali. "Is it going to be a lot?"

"Thirty-two times, "'I will respect bedtime,' as neatly as you can," Ali prompted. "Is that fair?"

Sniffling, Betsy nodded again. "Okay," she conceded.

A few minutes later, Betsy disengaged herself from Ali's embrace, pulling her shorts back up, and the New Zealand captain guided her teammate to the chair at the table, putting the hotel notepad and a pen in front of her. She had considerately added a pillow to the chair, and Betsy sat gingerly, sucking her lower lip as she began to write. "I will respect bedtime?" she checked with Ali, who nodded.

"That's right. Thirty-two times," Ali reminded Betsy, who groaned but reminded herself it could be worse - a longer line, or fifty, or a hundred times. She did her best to write it as carefully as she could, while still being quick about it.

When the thirty-two lines were finished, Betsy tore them from the notepad and brought them to Ali.

"Here, ma'am."

Ali took the pages and inspected them, nodding.

"Good girl," she praised Betsy. "That's our good girl. All done now, then," she added. "I think you'll feel better after some more rest," she added. "Would you like me to tuck you in?"

"Yes please Ali," Betsy said shyly. She crawled into bed and lay facedown, letting Ali pull the sheet up over her.

"There you are, Betsy," Ali cooed. "There's a good girl. Sleep well."

Betsy was asleep in a moment, and Ali took advantage of the situation to return to her own bed. The more sleep the jetlagged Football Ferns got, the better.

Chapter Text

“Are you okay, Sonnett?”

Emily turned to see Sofia Huerta’s eyes locked on her. She gave a nod, trying to appear more confident than she felt. Was she confident about the friendlies? Yeah, of course. But she couldn’t deny that she still felt a bit at loose ends.

“Come sit with me?”

Emily nodded and sat down next to Sofia when they boarded the plane. Her fellow OL Reign teammate - isn’t that a weird thought - smiled comfortingly and squeezed her hand. “One step at a time, Sonnett,” Sofia said encouragingly. “Isn’t that how Morgan does things?”

Slowly, Emily glanced over at Alex, who was sitting with Taylor Kornieck across the aisle. Alex turned her head and nodded. She didn’t speak, but her eyes said it all. I see you, mijita, my Emily, you’re alright. 

“One step at a time,” Emily echoed. “So…I guess the first order of business is to get to Wellington, so we can win this thing.” She took a steadying breath. “We can do this,” she said.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Em,” Becky said, leaning over the back of the younger blonde’s seat and squeezing her shoulder. “Obviously we want to win, but winning isn’t the first step.” She looked around to see that all the team had made it onto their plane, and resumed her seat.

“What is it?” Emily sucked on her lower lip, suddenly wishing she had Kelley, or at the very least her dinosaur plushie from back at Tobin and Christen’s house. She just had so many thoughts. The feel of the plane moving forward didn’t help her nerves any.

Sofia patted Emily’s knee reassuringly. “I think what Brunn means,” she said, “is that the first step starts here, with wheels up.”

“That’s it,” Brunn agreed, making herself comfortable as the flight took off. “First, we take off, then we get there and get settled in. Then we’ll think about winning.” 

“Okay,” Emily sighed in relief, relaxing as Sofia comforted her. She had the window seat, so she looked out in interest as the New Zealand scenery spread out below them. Flying was fun, and a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

They were on their way.

Chapter Text

“What do you expect Vlatko will have to say to you?”

Midge Purce gave the reporter what she hoped was an unconcerned smile. “Oh, I guess we’ll be in for a bit of a talking to, you know…”

It wasn’t Vlatko’s talking to she was concerned about. 

Sure, the coach would have stern words for her and the rest of the team. They had outmaneuvered the Football Ferns, at least, no shame on that score, but four attempts on goal, with three blocked by the keeper? (Not to mention that damn goalpost…)

They could do better than that.

So Midge followed the rest of the team inside. She and Sofia Huerta flanked Emily, each keeping a hand on the blonde’s shoulders.

At least Emily hadn’t been part of the lot that were being scolded for their failure to take New Zealand apart.

“Drop the ball at Rose’s feet,” Vlatko told them. “Make sure she gets it.”

“No pressure, Vlatko,” Rose muttered, and Emily felt a giggle startled out of her. She squashed it hurriedly.

Orders given, they headed back to the lockers, arranging in a semicircle in front of Becky.

“Fox, Purce, Horan, Lavelle,” Becky singled the four out. They turned apprehensive eyes on their Captain.

“Whatever Midge says I did, she started it,” Lindsey blurted out.

“Hey!”

Becky rolled her eyes. “I was going to say ‘well done for trying so hard to take apart the Kiwis’, but if you have a guilty conscience, Linds, we can sort that too.”

Lindsey shook her head.

“No, Brunn.”

Trinity snickered.

Becky turned to look at her. “Rodman, I’d watch the attitude if I were you. We want you, Sullivan, Huerta, and Cook on, so you put your best foot forward and cut the sass, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” Trinity said quickly. “Who’s being taken off?”

“Purce - yes, I know, Midge, it’s not a punishment,” Becky softened enough to say. “Kornieck, Dunn, Girma.”

Crystal and Naomi nodded to each other. Taylor Kornieck gave Midge a brief hug - after her encounter with the reporter earlier, Midge did look a little shaky.

“None of you are being punished,” Becky reiterated. “You know that, really. Think about it.”

There were nods all around.

“But being taken off feels like it sometimes,” Emily said quietly. “And not being put on.”

Becky went to Emily and gave her a brief hug. “There’s still the second half left. And if not today, then next time, I’m sure, Emily. Vlatko has his reasons for not using you yet and they don’t have anything to do with you being bad or good. Got it?”

Meekly, Emily nodded. She let Huerta hug her again, too, before the older girl joined the rest of the substitutes going on. “Alex…”

Morgan stepped away from the group and went to give Emily a hug, and kiss on the cheek. “Be a good girl for me, mijita. You’re doing so well, I know it’s hard not to play.”

“Score for me, Mama Alex?” Emily whispered.

Alex nodded, giving Emily a reassuring smile as she rejoined the others.

“Let’s go out and win this,” Becky ordered, and the USWNT took the field.

After a disappointingly scoreless first half, a 4-0 turnaround - two goals from Mallory, newly Swanson, one from Alex, one from Lynn Williams, much to her joyful surprise - was a balm to the Americans’ spirit. They went through the round of photos, interviewers’ questions and other formalities, and were tired out when they were finally able to return to the lockers.

Halfway down the tunnel, a hand fell on Alex’s arm. She turned to look into the inscrutable gaze of her close friend and temporary enemy, Kiwi captain Ali Riley.

“I know you have a little one to manage, Alex, but I’d like a moment of your time soon. We have to talk.”

Alex’s eyebrows rose.

“That’s a funny way to congratulate me on my win, Riley.”

“Oh, now we really have to talk,” Ali added grimly.

The bottom nearly dropped out of Alex’s stomach when she realized what she’d just said.

“I meant our win,” she backtracked.

Ali nodded. “I’m sure you did, but that’s not what you said, is it, Alexandra Patricia?”

Alex shook her head mutely.

“My room after dinner. I’ll text you the number.”

Alex’s stomach churned as she walked away from her friend. That was one slip she never allowed her teammates to make - how could she?

Maybe, she thought, I really do need this from Ali.

She’d have to see.

Chapter Text

After dinner, Alex Morgan was feeling nervous.

She’d got Ali’s text, of course. The USWNT and the Football Ferns were sharing a hotel, and so it was a matter of going to the right floor, finding the right room.

Damn good thing that we got these floors of the hotel as a block,  Alex thought as she left her room . No one but the teams and staff, no one else is going to be intruding.

She definitely didn’t want reporters finding out about this. It was bad enough that other Ferns might hear.

Alex was halfway down the corridor belonging to the Ferns when she heard the sound of racing footsteps behind her. “Mama Alex?”

The forward halted and turned, her arms full of Emily Sonnett a moment later. “Mijita, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be following me. And since when do you call me Mama Alex?” she added, brow creased. “Is everything alright, Emmy?”

Emily bit her lip, until Alex’s finger caressing it made her let go. “I just…” she began, then shook her head. “Can I come with you?”

Alex blushed. “I guess it would be better to talk in Ali’s room than the hallway, mijita,” she allowed.

Emily nodded and followed Alex to Ali Riley's room, resting her head on Alex's shoulder when they got there. Alex texted Ali we're here and got an amused oh, we, is it? 🤔  followed by the Football Ferns' captain opening the door. "Hello, Sonnett, didn't expect to see you here. Come on in then."

The two Americans followed Ali into her room, sitting down on the couch in the living area together as Ali took a chair. 

"Now, Hassett's not here right now but she could be back anytime, so Sonnett, I think you'd better make this quick," Ali said. "What are you doing here?"

Emily shrugged. "I just...she's Mama Alex," Emily said helplessly.

"Ah." Ali nodded, softening. "I thought Alex was just 'Mama', Emmy, little one?"

"Yeah, but..." Emily sucked on her lip, thinking. "Kell's gone and I have to..." She trailed off.

"What's up, kiddo?" Ali moved from her spot to perch on the couch on Emily's other side, and squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

Emily shook her head. "But I'm gonna be in a new team again, and Nikki, she's going to--"

Understanding dawned in the older women's eyes. "Nikki Stanton?" Alex prompted. "Did she have anything to say to you?"

"S-she said that she's glad I'm coming to the team and if I needed anything, like for..." Emily blushed. "Anything anything, she'd help." 

"Do you want her to be a mama to you, mijita?" Alex asked gently. "When I can't be there?"

Emily gave a tiny nod. "If I have to go away from you, Nikki's good," she said meekly. "If it's okay."

"It's okay," Alex assured her little one. "It's alright, sweetheart. She can be Mama Nikki."

Ali nodded, the New Zealander giving Emily an encouraging smile. "Stanton's a good sort. You'll do alright with her."

"Okay." Emily cuddled close to Alex, looking warily at Ali. "Auntie Ali?"

"Hmmm?" Ali smiled at the little one, patting her hand.

"What are you going to do to Mama Alex?"

"Who said I was going to do anything to her?" Ali raised her eyebrows, and Emily gave Ali a don't treat me like I'm stupid look. 

"I heard what you said to her in the tunnel. And how Mama Alex said about her winning when she meant us winning."

"What were you doing in the tunnel? You didn't even come on the pitch."

"That's not my fault!" Emily fumed, voice rising.

"Emily Ann." 

Alex's tone stopped Emily cold.

"S-sorry, Mama..." Emily babbled, and Alex pulled the blonde into her lap, rocking her gently.

"Shh, shh, mijita, no, it's alright," she cooed gently, rubbing Emily's back. "I just didn't want you screaming at Ali. Look at me please little one, there's a good girl, it's alright, I have you."

Sniffling, Emily settled down in Alex's arms. "I'm sorry, I'll be good, I promise."

"I know you will mijita. I need you to be a good girl for me and go back to our room please."

"B-by myself?"

"That's probably a bad idea," Ali murmured. Alex gently kicked her ankle.

"I'll text Sofia and have her come get you, how's that, mijita?"

Slowly, Emily nodded.

Ali leaned over and patted Emily's shoulder. "Okay, sweetheart. I'm not mad you yelled, I know you're worried about your Mama. Listen to me please?" she prompted as Alex texted Sofia Huerta.

Emily turned to look at Ali. "O-okay Auntie Ali."

"Good girl. You heard what your Mama said to me?" she asked, and Emily gave a small nod.

"About how she won, but she meant the team won, only it wasn't what she said, and it's naughty to say she won not we won?" Emily supplied.

"M-hmm. That's very naughty," Ali agreed. "Because there's no 'i' in team, so we don't say things like that." 

"And...and when you're naughty you have to be smacked," Emily ventured doubtfully.

"That's right. You're such a smart girl, Emily," Ali praised her. "So when me and your Mama Alex have to chat privately, you understand that, right?"

Emily's forehead wrinkled. "But isn't that for Brunn to do?"

Alex's cheeks flushed. "It could be, except Ali had already said she was going to for something else, mijita. I thought she was just playing, but after she heard that, she wasn't playing anymore," Alex explained. "Ali's my friend, and I was rude to her where Brunn didn't hear, so she said she'd handle it."

"Oh," Emily said softly. "But not too much, Auntie Ali, please? Because it was an accident?"

"Just enough," Ali promised. "I love your Mama Alex, Emily, she's one of my best friends. I want her to remember to behave properly, so she can be an example for her team. You understand that, don't you?"

Emily nodded.

Luckily (for Emily, and for Ali and Alex's sanity) it was no trouble for Sofia to come and collect Emily. She didn't bother to ask what Alex and Emily had been doing in Ali's room.

It wasn't her business.

Then the two were alone, standing in the main room, looking at each other.

Alex waited, on edge, for Ali to say something, instead of just looking at her like that.

"Something to say, Alexandra Patricia?"

No, have you got something to say, Alexandra Lowe Riley? Alex clamped down on the sass before it could leave her mouth. "No, ma'am."

"I promised you I'd give you a good thrashing before we went back home, didn't I."

Alex swallowed and nodded.

"I knew you'd be a good girl and give me an excuse. Or should I say, be a naughty girl and give me an excuse," Ali amended, smirking at her friend. "You know you need this, Alex. You don't get it nearly often enough, do you?"

“I guess not,” Alex said, blushing. “I…when you said a thrashing… did you mean that literally?”

Ali moved to hug Alex reassuringly. “Hey,” she said softly, her smugness disappearing. “You know you don’t have to be scared of me, or of this, right? I was joking when I said that, and I’m not now, but I’m not going to take the cane out,” she reassured Alex. “For one thing we’re in my hotel room, I know only my teammates are on this floor but still.”

Alex blushed.

“What’s it going to be?” she asked.

“Come on Alex, sweetheart,” Ali coaxed her. The New Zealander led her friend back to the bedroom, and knelt to open up her sports bag. She pulled out the New Zealand team paddle that she used to keep order, the Football Ferns’ logo painted on one side, etched on the other of the small round implement.

Alex eyed it with distaste. It was the size and thickness of a ping pong paddle, the same size as the USWNT one and the ones their club team captains used. Hardly terrifying, but effective when wielded by an expert hand, which Ali’s definitely was.

Of course she was just as experienced on both ends of the implement, Alex reminded herself. But Ali was no slouch, having been wearing the captain’s armband much more recently than Alex had.

“I’ll behave for you, Ali,” Alex allowed reluctantly.

“There’s a good girl.” Ali squeezed Alex’s shoulder. “Come on, over my lap then.” She sat down on the bed and waited for Alex, who reluctantly lowered herself into position. Alex had changed out of her kit and was wearing a t-shirt and lounge pants - the sort of thing she could fall asleep easily in, if needed. She settled over Ali’s lap, flashing back to their Orlando days and silently thanking God that Ali Riley was no Ashlyn Harris. Experience was bad enough, but experience and that much muscle was another.

The first smack of Ali’s hand drew her out of her reverie. “Ow!”

“No wandering, Alexandra,” Ali said, continuing to smack Alex with her hand on Alex’s clothed bottom. “Why are we here?” she asked after she’d given Alex about ten swats.

“Because you said you’d thrash me,” Alex replied.

Ali paused, her fingers sliding into Alex’s waistband. Groaning, Alex lifted her hips and let Ali pull her lounge pants down, leaving her shorts in place.

As the spanking resumed, Ali tsked. “We don’t take sass, Morgan. Try again.”

“Because I was rude and didn’t give my team proper credit for our win.”  And because you said you’d thrash me, she added silently. Ali was definitely doing a credible job of making her squirm, even with just the Kiwi’s hand over her shorts now. 

“That’s right. And that’s not allowed now, is it?” Ali asked sternly, addressing the next round of smacks to Alex’s sit spots.

“No ma’am,” Alex whimpered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, but I’m going to make sure you don’t slip like that again,” Ali said sternly. “What would Ash have said?”

“Fuck,” Alex groaned, burying her face in her arms. Ali’d given her at least two dozen smacks by now, wasn’t she done yet?

“That’s the other Ali’s department when it comes to Ash, and don’t change the subject,” Ali rolled her eyes, startling an improper giggle from Alex. “What would Ashlyn have said to you about such a self centred comment, Alexandra Patricia?”

“Don’t think she’d have done much talking ,” Alex said reluctantly. “At least not verbally.”

“I don’t think so either,” Ali agreed. “Up.” She tapped Alex’s hip, and Alex grimaced as the last shred of her modesty was destroyed. Her shorts were pulled down to join her lounge pants around her knees, and she was settled back in place.

“Ten,” Ali told Alex, and she held onto that as the paddle swatted down, first on one bottom cheek, then the other. She gulped back a curse.

“Ali, not so damn hard!”

“Alexandra,” Ali said, mildly reproving. Alex subsided, taking the next four swats as quietly as she could.

The last four swatted down on her sit spots and undercurve, and Alex, to her horror, found herself sobbing.

Gently, Ali picked her up and righted her clothing, pulling Alex into her arms and letting her cry it out.

“It’s alright Alex, all finished,” Ali soothed her, holding the American forward securely. “Ali’s gotcha, it’s okay.” She rubbed Alex’s back gently. “Cry it out, it’s alright. You’ve been dealing with a lot, haven’t you?” she murmured soothingly.

Alex nodded into Ali’s shoulder, doing her best to get her tears under control. When she could, she lifted her head and looked at her friend.

“I’ve had worse from Ash,” she protested. “Why…”

“I think you’re just worked up, sweetheart,” Ali said gently. “You’ve had so much going on, you’re preparing for the World Cup, there’s god know how many scandals blowing up in US Soccer, have been for a while. None of that’s your fault, but you’re an icon, you take it all on as a leader of the team. That’s how it is, isn’t it?” she prompted gently, and Alex nodded reluctantly. “There, you see? You needed someone who knows you, someone who understands what it’s like to be in charge that could take care of things for you, take care of you for a minute. You just needed someone to break down your barrier, Alex. It’s okay to be you, with me. Not Alex Morgan the world class footballer, not Alex Morgan the US Women’s superstar, leader of the fight for equal pay or whatever else. Not even Alexandra Carrasco the wife and mother.  Just Alex, just yourself.”

Alex nodded sleepily, curled in Ali’s arms. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, Ali.”

“It’s alright sweetheart. I have you,” Ali promised. “Stay with me tonight, it’s okay. Huerta’s got Emily.”

Nodding, Alex sent Emily and Sofia brief texts explaining she was staying in Riley’s room and Sofia replied promptly, saying of course she would watch over Emily, they could play Mario Kart or something, and then Sofia would make sure she got to sleep on time.

With that reassurance, Alex thanked Sofia, then put her phone down.

She let herself drift off on Ali’s bed, wrapped in the older woman’s arms.

Chapter Text

 Trinity Rodman out, Morgan Elizabeth Goff on.  

The nineteen-year-old preened, practically strutting down the tunnel as she was subbed off. The match was nearly over, and thanks to her brace of goals (and Ashley's one in the twenty-fourth minute) it was almost a given that they would win. Gotham wasn't coming back from a 3-1 deficit that quickly.   

"Feeling confident, hunny?" she snarked as she passed the subbed off Gotham players. Caprice Dydasco's eyes narrowed, and she grabbed Trinity by the hand just before the girl could cross into the Spirit's locker room.  

 "Hey!" Trinity yelped.   

"You. Brat. In here," Caprice said, steering Trinity into Gotham's locker room. She sat down on the bench, pulling Trinity down to sit on her lap, and wrapped an arm around the girl's waist. Trinity struggled fruitlessly against the older woman.   

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "You haven't got the right to touch me! Let go of me, you stupid--"   

A cleared throat silenced her protests, and Trinity glanced up to find Carli Lloyd standing there, arms folded. "Trinity, is that the way we treat our friends?"   

"Dydasco's not my friend," Trinity scowled. "She's a fucking--"   

"Little one, you'd best stop while you've got the chance to rethink that," Carli said, sitting beside Caprice and catching Trinity's chin in her hand. She gently turned Trinity's head so their eyes met. "You know what this is about. It was rude of you to mock Ali last match, and to start a fight with Ashlyn. Keeping up the comments doesn't prove to me you've learned anything."  

Trinity had the good sense to shut up.   

"I've got her, Caprice," Carli said, and shifted Trinity onto her lap. "Yes, Captain," Caprice said habitually, and Carli took the title in the spirit it was meant. She nodded and let Caprice go, leaving her alone with Trinity. "Now, Trinity," Carli said calmly. "Are we allowed to be rude to our friends, little one?"   

"No," Trinity sulked. "But Harris isn't my friend, and she started it--"   

"Because you mocked Ali on Twitter for tripping on turf, which you know is unsafe," Carli said firmly. "I'm not blaming you or the Spirit for having a turf field, that's up to the owners. But you don't mock someone - especially your friend and elder - for getting hurt on the field."   

Trinity's scowl deepened. "It was just a joke. It's not my fault Harris can't take a fucking joke."   

"Trinity," Carli said warningly. "Wipe that look off your face, it's not becoming, little girl. You know you were naughty, you know you're in trouble. Fighting it and pouting isn't going to help you. Neither is cursing, for that matter."   

"What are you going to do about it, Lloyd? You're not on the team anymore," Trinity said. "You don't have the authority--" She'd been so busy sassing she hadn't noticed the whistle blow, hadn't noticed the keeper being first back into the lockers.   

"Maybe she doesn't, but I do, Rodman." Trinity's head snapped up and she stared into the quietly furious gaze of Ashlyn Harris. "Her or me, Rodman. You pick."  

"Will it make you feel better, Harris, because it's the only way you can beat me?"   

"That's enough, Trinity." Ali Krieger's voice cut the teenager off, and she scrambled out of Carli's grasp, turning to look at the defender with her mouth slightly open.   

"Krieger, I--"   

"No. Not another word, unless it's to pick which of them you're going to catch it from, brat."   

Trinity shook her head desperately. She didn't want to catch it from either of the older women.   

"Neither isn't an option, kiddo." Ali folded her arms. "Either you pick right now, or I do it for you."   

Trinity squirmed uncomfortably. "I just want to go back to my team."   

"And you will, once you've taken your smacking like a good little girl," Ali replied. "Last chance, Trin. Are you picking or am I?"   

"You," Trinity whispered.   

"Me what?" Ali prompted.   

"I pick you, not them," Trinity said hurriedly before she could change her mind.   

Ali's eyebrows went up. "All right then, Trinity."   

Carli and Ashlyn exchanged looks, and cleared the rest of the team out.   

"Is this because Carli's not Captain anymore, and you think Ash is too angry to spank you properly?" Ali inquired, even as she settled Trinity over her lap.   

The nineteen-year-old squirmed and nodded. "Harris hates me."   

"Ash doesn't hate anybody, especially not a kid like you," Ali said, tugging Trin's shorts down but leaving her knickers up. "But she's not best pleased with your attitude, and neither are Carli or me. I don't fault you for your field, Trin, but you've got to learn better manners. So we'll see about that, shall we?"   

Trinity wriggled as Ali gave her bottom a gentle warning pat, but didn't answer, correctly guessing the question had been rhetorical. Then Ali began Trinity's spanking in earnest, and she was squealing from the first smack, even over her panties. Ali had a hard hand.  

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. By the tenth spank, Trinity was having difficulty holding back her tears. She didn't want Ali to have the satisfaction of making her cry, even if she couldn't help making other noises.  

Ali paused, keeping Trinity in place with a hand on her back, as footsteps approached behind Trinity. "Thanks, Mewie," she said, accepting something from Kristie. Trinity wriggled uncomfortably, not wanting to know what that exchange meant for her.   

"Kristie?" she whimpered. The elder Mewis stepped around Trinity, kneeling by her head and taking her hands. "Settle, Trin. You know what happens to naughty brats who get yellow carded - and for that kind of taunting you very well could have, if you hadn't just been subbed off. That shouldn't make you immune to consequences, kiddo."   

Trinity swallowed hard, trying not to tense. The eleventh spank came not from Ali's hand, but the paddle, and five more followed it. None of them were particularly hard, but they still made an impact. Trinity sniffled, whimpering, as Ali tapped her hip. "Lift up for me, kiddo. Almost done."   

Meekly, Trinity obeyed, and Ali fully bared her before settling her back down, shifted forward a bit. Trinity clung to Kristie's hands as Ali smacked her four more times, these swats of the paddle catching her sit spots and undercurve. The dam finally broke, and Trinity sobbed on Ali's lap.   

"S-sorry Ali, sorryimsorry...."   

Ali set the paddle down and scooped the girl up, gently setting her clothes to rights.   

"Okay, Trin, shhh, good girl, Ali's gotcha, you're okay, sweetie," Ali murmured, petting her hair. Trinity cried into Ali's shoulder as the defender rocked her.   

"Sorry I w-was bad, Ali. Sorry I was rude to you and Ash."   

Ali nodded, patting her back. "I know, sweetheart. You've been punished and forgiven, little. It's all done, Trin."   

Slowly, Trinity calmed, and snuggled between Ali and Kristie, the older Mewis carding her fingers through Trinity's hair.   

"That's it, good girl," Kristie murmured. "Behave and you won't have to worry about it again."   

Trinity nodded. "I'll be good," she whispered.   

Ali and Kristie exchanged glances and nodded. "Alright, sweetie. We know," Ali soothed her. "We'll let Ash know. When you're ready, you can go back to your side. But take all the time you want."   

It was a few more minutes before Trinity extracted herself from Ali's reassuring embrace, and left Gotham's side to rejoin the Spirit. She desperately needed the ice baths.   

Chapter Text

"Meep."

"Meep."

"Meow meep."

Becky Sauerbrunn gave the pair an affectionate grin. "You'll never grow out of that, will you?" she asked Lindsey and Mal, for though the latter was recently married, riding the high of scoring the first brace of the year for the National Team, the two would always have each other and the secret code only the other could understand.

Until they didn't.

Her smile faded as the timbre of the ubiquitous 'meeping' from the Trouble Twins turned sad.

Becky understood why they'd reverted to the old habit, really. They were clinging hard to each other as they hadn't in a while - all because Lindsey wasn't going to be there for the second match.

She was going back. Going away from Mal.

Mallory hated that just as much as Lindsey did, and Becky was sorry for them both but there was nothing she could do.

Damn it Lyon, why couldn't you have let us keep her? Now she'll be jet-lagged for your Montpellier match , she thought in annoyance.

Still, that was how it had been ordered. Becky didn't credit the management of Olympique Lyonnais Feminin with that much sense.

She parked outside the airport, looking into the back of the rental car again. "You'll be alright, Linds," she said coaxingly. "You won't be alone. They've sent someone to fetch you."

Which meant that Lindsey's escort must have been in New Zealand at least a few days themselves, because surely even Lyon wouldn't be stupid enough to send someone to pick Lindsey up and then immediately have to get the next flight back. Whoever it was, they had been keeping a low profile.

Becky watched as Lindsey reluctantly got out. Mal scrambled out with her, holding Lindsey's hand tightly, and Becky followed, carrying Lindsey's travel bag as they headed for the terminal. She and Mal would accompany Lindsey as far as they were allowed, and then--

The Trouble Twins chattered sadly the whole way in that secret language they had for themselves, but when they got to the gate for the private plane, Becky and Mal had to stop.

A grin spread over Becky's face as she saw the two blondes waiting by the gate, and the younger one came to take Lindsey's bag, hugging Becky fiercely.

"Brunn!"

"Ellie, little one, you're here."

"Of course I'm here, and Mandie, we couldn't just not," Ellie protested. "Lindsey's our Linds."

"She is at that," Becky agreed, smiling broadly at Amandine Henry once Ellie let her go. The Frenchwoman, their fellow Portland Thorn out on loan, took Lindsey in her arms protectively, looking her over. Ellie greeted Mal in turn, congratulating her on her recent marriage. "I should have brought you a present," Ellie said with a sigh. "But I forgot. I'll send one?" she tried and Mal nodded, covering a smile. She appreciated the young Australian's attempt to make her feel better.

"Okay, Ellie," Mal said. "You can send one. But the best present would be for you and Mandie to take care of Linds for us. All right?"

Ellie nodded.

She sighed as Mandie called for her to come - they were going to be late if they didn't get moving now. Quickly, she gave Brunn and Mal one more hug each "from Linds", then raced back. Lindsey waved to Brunn and Mal before her teammates led her away.

Mal deflated. "I want Linds to stay."

"I know, honey," Brunn murmured. "Come on, I'll get you a coffee and take you back to Emily. I know she's not the same as Linds, but it'll be alright. I promise."

Slowly, Mal nodded. "Okay." Emily was one of her good friends, too, she thought. It wasn't her fault she wasn't Lindsey.

Becky guided Mal back out of the terminal and to the car, texting Alex and Emily to meet them at that coffee place Ali had told them about. It was a local cafe and would be more than good enough as a treat for the four of them.

They needed to give their teammates some space to settle into a mental place without Lindsey.

Chapter Text

The match was over.

The US Women's National Team had soundly defeated the Football Ferns not once, but twice, in the Ferns' home stadiums.

Five-nil, at that - one more than the last match.

It was no surprise, then, that the feeling in the Americans' locker room was jubilant, while that in the Ferns' was decidedly less so. What was a surprise was the lone, dark-haired, ponytailed figure crossing from the Americans' side of the tunnel to the other, and knocking on the Kiwis' door.

Betsy Hassett opened it. "Come to gloat, Morgan?"

Alex ignored her. "Where's Ali?"

"In the ice baths," Betsy said. "Going to injure her worse?"

Alex glared. "I would like to see my friend, please."

Betsy stepped aside and let Alex pass by. 

It didn't take Alex much to find Ali - the locker rooms were identical in layout - so she made her way to her friend's tub. "How's your hand doing?"

"It's not broken off, at least," Ali said, wincing at the wrapped limb in question. "We'll have to check it out further to be sure, but it'll be alright for now."

"It's a damn good thing AT didn't see that."

"Maybe you wore my hand out," Ali snarked at her, and Alex rolled her eyes.

"Maybe your team will be grateful if your hand's broken then. But I won't."

"What about you, then?" Ali gestured with her good hand for Alex to join her in the tub and Alex obeyed; if she didn't, Ali would just get annoying and demand it. "I heard they ruled you out at the last second for lower leg strain."

"Oh, you know..." Alex shrugged. "It happens."

"You sure it wasn't your thighs?"

Alex leaned back in the tub next to Ali, stretching carefully. "Shut up or I'll break your other hand."

"I'd like to see you try." Ali swatted the back of Alex's head with her good hand. "What's got you in such a strop, then? You won."

"I don't know." Alex grumbled. "I just...there's too much going on, I guess. It's too loud in there."

"I just bet it is," Ali conceded. She knew how the teams got after wins. "What are you going to do when you have to go back over there? Who's keeping order in there anyway? Sauerbrunn? Lavelle?"

"Brunn and Rose are perfectly capable of handling it."

"Are they? What about Pugh - I mean, Swanson?"

"Mal is perfectly fine."

"I imagine, seeing as she's scored now in three consecutive matches now, hasn't she?"

Alex nodded in response to Ali's question. "Yes. Both here, and our final one last year." 

"Better be making sure that doesn't go to her head then." Ali hummed knowingly. "Although I suppose in this condition it wouldn't be you anyway."

No, Alex thought, it wouldn't. She sighed and let it go.

Back over on the American side, Mallory Swanson was sitting with Emily Sonnett, heads together. Becky watched the two of them warily; other than while they were playing, they'd been nearly inseparable, both clinging to Alex and each other while preparing for the game. Now, with Alex visiting the other side, the two were clearly...well, up to something.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, keeping her tone mild as she approached the pair. They were bent over a phone - Mal's, Becky recognized the case - both reading something.

"We have to go to Linds," Mal burst out.

Becky blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Linds and Ellie need us. Right now."

Becky sat down beside Mal, putting an arm around the younger woman and turning Mal to face her. "Mallory Diane, do you hear yourself?" she prompted. "We have to go to Lindsey and Ellie, they need us right now? In Lyon?"

Mal nodded stubbornly.

"We're in Auckland, Mallory."

"I don't care. We need to go to them right now."

"It's a twenty-eight hour flight at best, with a three-hour stop."

"No."

"Mallory Diane Swanson." Becky drew in a breath and let it out. "What do Lindsey and Ellie need us right now for?"

"They're in trouble. Big trouble."

"Would either of you like to explain?"

Emily shifted in her seat. "...You might be mad, Brunn."

Becky closed her eyes briefly, taking another centering breath. "I might be mad?" she asked, refocusing on her teammates.

"You probably will be mad."

Becky resisted the urge to smack her head against something. "Would you like to tell me what it is I might be mad about, then?"

"Mal, Emmy."

The new voice made both girls look up.

Alyssa Naeher walked over, sitting on Emily's other side and taking her hand. The blonde looked up at the keeper, sucking on her lower lip.

"Emily Ann," Alyssa said, making her younger friend gulp though Alyssa's voice was still gentle, "what do we say about answering the Captain when she asks you a question?"

"Rose was captain today," Emily said quickly. Too quickly. The lift of Alyssa's eyebrows in silent surprise made Emily flush pink, and she looked away from the keeper.

"Should we invite Rose to our little party then?"

"No," Emily said. Rose had never smacked her before, and she didn't want Rose to start now.

Alyssa squeezed Emily's hand lightly. "Then we're going to ask you one more time, and this time we want a real, honest, answer, alright Emily? What is going on with Lindsey and Ellie, that you want to go to them right now?"

Emily and Mal exchanged worried glances, squirming.

"They...might be in trouble with Renard."

Alyssa and Becky exchanged glances. They knew Wendie Renard - she was Lyon's Captain, and occasionally France's captain, too. "What for?"

"Um." Mal bit her lip and looked away.

Emily squirmed. "You know about Linds and PSG, and Benstiti?"

Becky's stomach clenched. "Yes," she assured them, her voice tight with anger. "Are Lindsey and Ellie in danger?"

"N-no, not like that much, only...there was a thing," Emily said uncertainly.

There was a thing. Becky wanted to scream. She fought the urge valiantly.

"Renard is a safe person for Lindsey and Ellie to be with."

"Yes," Emily said. "Normally. Only she might be really, really extra mad because. Um."

"Emily," Alyssa said in a warning tone. "What happened?"

"You know how Mal and Linds are really really sad about leaving each other?"

"Yes," Becky said, taking a centering breath and letting it out. "We know." They all missed Lindsey, but Mal had taken it worst. No doubt Lindsey felt the same.

"So, um...someone saw how upset Linds and Ellie were, and gave them something to help them feel better."

Becky and Alyssa were instantly on alert, looking sharply at Mal and Emily. "Who, and what kind of something?"

"We don't know who. Ellie couldn't tell us," Mal said reluctantly, and the older women could tell she was being honest. "Someone on the team. She wasn't French. Not European. 'American but not', she said." 

That narrowed it down by a lot, actually.  "Gilles?" Becky asked, mentally running through what she knew of Lyon's roster. "Canadian, plays for Angel City when she's not loaned out?"

"Probably."

Becky groaned. "And what did Gilles give them?"

"A pan of homemade brownies."

"Considering the way the French teams monitor their girls' sweets, I imagine it's been forever since Ellie or Lindsey have had those, unless Lindsey had one at the cafe while we had her," Alyssa mused.

"I think they might've been a little more than just brownies," Mal ventured.

Alyssa groaned, too. "Oh wonderful."

Privately, if that were the case, Becky wondered how Gilles would have pulled that off. She was still fairly sure that cannabis was mostly illegal in France, except for medical consumption and she was pretty sure edibles weren't that. "What happened?" Becky asked.

"Not too much," Mal said reluctantly. "Only, when they got up this morning they found like...forty boxes of pie and ten of mini muffins at their flat. And no idea how they got there."

"What." 

"From Amazon Prime grocery delivery or something."

"In France?" Becky frowned. "It must have been ridiculously expensive."

"And Lindsey and Ellie's expenses are usually charged to the team account," Mal ventured.

"Which means Renard would find out that they spent a lot of money on sweets, which means they're in big trouble whether Renard knows about the brownies or not," Alyssa summed up.

"Which I'd assume she does, because if they were high enough to do that, Renard probably could figure it out once she saw them," Becky contributed.

Both girls nodded miserably. "And now they're in the biggest trouble ever and...and...I don't know," Mal said anxiously. "Will they have to go home?"

"Not if Renard takes care of them," Becky assured Mal gently.

"But they probably won't be able to sit for forever."

"Not comfortably for a while," Becky agreed. "But Mal, sweetheart, you can't expect Renard to leave that alone."

"If Ellie and Lindsey are still that sick, not enough to be sober, how did you find all this out?" Alyssa asked, having come to the same conclusion as Becky at almost the same moment.

"Um....no, they're sober," Emily volunteered. "Being force fed whatever it was Renard gave them and stuck in the corner kind of sped that up."

"So Renard has already found them and knows everything, and they texted you while in the corner?" Becky blinked.

"Linds did," Mal explained.

"And you expected us to go to Lyon to save them from...what, Renard being justifiably angry with their behavior?" Becky asked. "We'd never have got there in time anyway."

Mal shook her head. "But if Linds gets sent home...."

"And Ellie," Emily said softly. Her former Portland teammate needed her.

"Then you wanted to be there to make sure they were alright," Becky realized, softening.

She took out her own phone, scrolling through a certain list of saved contacts until she found the right one, texting the number and hoping Renard wouldn't be annoyed with her using English - her French was limited.

Renard, are you busy?

I have two naughty brats to deal with, though I expect you've heard something about it.

Becky let out a breath of relief. So Renard hadn't started yet. What are you going to do with them? My girls are worried.

Well they're hardly going to be meeting with Madame La Guillotine, Renard replied sardonically. More like Monsieur Le Fouet. 

Becky snorted. Oh, that's going to go over well.

You would prefer the cane? I've heard something about Delannoy and Benstiti with Horan back when...

No, Becky replied immediately. Thank you for being careful, Renard.

You're welcome. And don't worry, I know they didn't mean to spend that money. I won't be unfair to our girls, naughty brats or not.

A knot in Becky's stomach loosened. Thank you, Renard. I'll let my girls know.

Anytime, Sauerbrunn.

"They're going to be alright," Becky assured Mal and Emily. "Renard's not happy with them, but she knows they didn't mean to spend all that money. She's going to focus on disciplining them for the illicit drug usage, not what came of it."

"Are they going to be sent home?" Emily asked worriedly.

"No," Becky said, "Renard's going to spank them. Bare."

Mal was immediately on edge. "With the cane?"

"No," Becky repeated. "With this." She pulled up the image of the martinet, or fouet d'enfant, which was Renard's preferred implement for severe punishments; it left a memorable sting but no damage. Mal and Emily examined the implement, exchanging worried looks, and nodded.

"Oh." Mal swallowed. "It looks awful."

"Yes, but it won't damage them like the cane could if someone wasn't being careful, or using one that was too thick or heavy," Becky replied.

Mal and Emily exchanged looks and nodded.

"That's good then," Mal whispered. "I'm glad Renard will be careful. She's not like...it's not like what happened to Linds before."

"No, it isn't. And - hang on." Becky paused.

Renard? Once you're done with my girls you might want to ask Gilles if she knows anything.

Oh don't worry, I've already got Gilles on my list, Renard replied. She's sitting outside the door like a good little girl, or at least she had better be. Mandie's watching her and Horan for me.

Amandine Henry was no slouch, that was for sure. Not keen to see the Headmistress then.

I imagine not, Renard replied. But Carpenter's first on my list. Alphabetical you know.

Alright, Becky replied. That meant Lindsey would be last, and she hoped that Amandine, at least, would reassure Lindsey that it wasn't going to be like that again.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, in Lyon, Lindsey Horan had been permitted to leave her corner and was sitting on a straight-backed wooden chair, between two identical ones occupied by Amandine Henry and Vanessa Gilles. Lindsey shot Mandie a panicked look, and the Frenchwoman drew Lindsey into her lap as they heard muffled squeaks and crying from behind the door.

The Lyonnais Feminin captain had her private office in the team's facilities, where she dealt with certain issues in private. Wendie Renard would not have her girls' grievances aired in public, because unlike some coaches and captains of some French teams, she didn't care to use the girls as pawns against each other, jockeying for favouritism. It was one thing if it was a team issue and had happened on the field in front of everyone.

But what happened in private stayed as private as Renard could make it. Especially something this serious.
"Auntie Mandie," Lindsey whimpered, "me'n Ellie are in the biggest trouble ever." She stared worriedly at the door her fellow little had disappeared through, the Australian clutching her plush Roo under one arm. At least she'd been allowed that comfort.

"Courage," Amandine whispered back. "Soyez courageux, ma douce fille. Vous serez tous en sécurité avec notre capitaine, elle vous aime."

Lindsey nodded slowly, pressing her face into Amandine's shoulder. "B-but it's going to be awful."

Amandine didn't respond verbally, just stroking the younger blonde's hair.

It was only about five minutes before Ellie returned, eyes red and tearstained, moving carefully as she closed the door behind her. "Gilles," she said, looking at the Canadian. "Captain wants you."

Vanessa got up and came to hug the little Australian. "You okay, kiddo?"

Ellie pressed herself into Vanessa Gilles' embrace. "Hurts. A lot. But...but okay. Mostly."
"Alright." Vanessa took a breath and let it out, then stepped back. "You'll be okay with Linds and Mandie?"

Ellie nodded, perching carefully on the chair the older girl had vacated and hugging her Roo tightly. She wished she'd thought to bring a pillow.

Probably not allowed anyway, Ellie thought reluctantly as Gilles disappeared behind the door and it clicked shut with a suddenness that made her and Lindsey both jump.

Ellie bit back a curse. "Ow!"

"W-what did she do?" Lindsey whimpered.

Ellie blanched. She hadn't meant to scare Lindsey. She slipped her hand into Lindsey's, and carefully scooted closer to the older girls. "S-she used the martinet. You know. The flogger. That thing."

Lindsey swallowed. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse than what had happened at PSG. "Was she awfully mad?"

"No," Ellie exhaled in relief. "She...she understood, really. It's just it's an awfully big thing."

That made it automatically worlds better than what had happened at PSG, and a few of the knots in Lindsey's stomach disappeared. She nodded gratefully.

"Does it hurt really bad?"

"About as bad as the first time Mu-I mean, Kerr slippered me," Ellie ventured, blushing.

"She does that for red cards?" Lindsey asked.

Ellie nodded. "Or red card level...this kind of thing." She squirmed. "She wasn't even Captain yet back then, but our Captains let her, they weren't sure they could do it and be fair, and I trusted Sam already."

"Back...at Rio?" Lindsey pressed, and blushing, Ellie nodded.

"I don't want to talk about it," she mumbled.

Lindsey nodded. It wasn't long before Vanessa Gilles reappeared, grimacing and pressing her hands to her sides.

"Headmistress' waiting for you," she told Lindsey.

"Thanks a lot," Lindsey grumbled. "If that was meant to make me feel better, it didn't."

"It wasn't."

Lindsey accepted a brief hug from Amandine, and then swallowed down her nerves, trying to keep calm.

It's just Renard. The Captain. She's not like him...like it was before, with them. Besides you're older now Horan, you're not a scared kid anymore.

Don't panic. Keep your head up and remember who you are, she told herself, and took the nerve-wracking walk to the door, knocking.

"Entrez, s'il vous plaît."

Lindsey's stomach dropped. She stepped inside the Captain's office, closing the door behind her, and regarded Renard with wary eyes.

Wendie Renard was standing in the middle of the office, facing the door. She was dressed impeccably in her Lyon kit, armband in place - somehow Renard even managed making that look like formal wear.

One hand was clasped around the handle of a many-tailed leather implement. The other rested on the back of a chair identical to the ones sitting outside the door.

"Viens ici, Horan."

Lindsey obeyed, exhaling slowly. "Capitaine, madame?" Her voice was shaking, and Renard moved her hand from the chair, resting it on Lindsey's shoulder.

"Est-ce que je t'effraie?" Renard asked, eyes searching Lindsey's. Are you afraid of me?

"Non madame. Pouvons-nous parler anglais?" Lindsey's command of French was enough to get by, but not as good as she liked when conversing with Renard.

"Non."

Lindsey bit back the urge to curse. She knew Renard could speak English, she just didn't want to.

"Lindsey."

Lindsey turned her head, finding Amandine Henry in the doorway. She sputtered incoherently. "Mandie!"

"May I come in, Captain?"

Renard nodded, and Lindsey grumbled at this fresh evidence Renard could understand her. Amandine came to stand by Lindsey, and patted her head. "It's alright, sweetheart, Ellie sent me to make sure you wouldn't panic," she explained gently. "Did Renard tell you how you have to be?"

Lindsey shook her head. "Not yet." Though, given that the single chair was standing in the middle of the room and Renard hadn't made any move to sit in it, Lindsey thought she might know.
(She blushed hotly at the thought of going over Renard's knee; she'd almost rather the cane, but not really.)

"Over the back of the chair, like this," Mandie murmured, guiding her. "Hands on the seat. There you are. Very good. And these have to come down." She tugged lightly at Lindsey's waistband, and the younger girl groaned.

"I can't do anything about it now, Mandie."

"I'll do it."

"That's humiliating."

"I know, but that's how it works, pet." Amandine patted her back gently, reassuring.

Lindsey whined softly as Amandine tugged her lounge pants down, exposing her cotton undershorts. But when those followed, fully baring her, she whimpered. "Mandie!"

"Shh, shh, pet, it's alright, sweetheart," Amandine cooed, "ma douce fille, courage," she reminded Lindsey. "I have you." She moved to the other side of the chair, kneeling and gently clasping her hands around Lindsey's arms to hold her down.

Lindsey tried to summon courage, but this was an entirely new sensation, and the light pressure of Renard's hand on her back made her stomach flutter.

Then the feeling of ten thin stripes of pain blooming across her bottom at once. The sting made Lindsey try to pull away, but Amandine hushed her, keeping her still as the whipping continued.

Hazily, Lindsey rationalized that this - the fouet d'enfant - was surely not going to be any harsher than a red card paddling from Brunn, or maybe Sinc or even Carli. Of course those were awful enough, but there wouldn't be more than a little bruising, they'd never been terribly unreasonable to her, not like...him.

Not that Carli had spanked her in a long time, not when there'd been others available...but thinking of her former Captain and still much loved caregiver wrenched a sob from Lindsey's throat.

Amandine signaled for Renard to stop, which she did. Something in Lindsey's eyes had changed, her focus seemed to be elsewhere, and Amandine moved so Lindsey's wrists were wrapped in one of her hands while the other patted Lindsey's cheek gently, wiping away tears.

"Lindsey? Where are you right now, sweetheart?"

"C-Carli," Lindsey stuttered, and Amandine cooed sympathetically.

"We'll get her for you," she promised. "Maybe not in person, but we'll get her on call when we're done. You'll be alright, shhh, just a little more now."
Lindsey swallowed and nodded. "O-okay Auntie Mandie."

"That's our girl," Amandine murmured. "Shh, I have you. Our brave girl."

"Courage," Lindsey whispered, and Amandine nodded approvingly.

"That's right." She resumed holding Lindsey down, and Renard resumed the punishment - not with the fouet, but with her bare hand, unexpectedly, making Lindsey squeal as the Captain's hand smacked down on her deep pink bottom.

Renard ignored the noise, continuing the hand spanking with brisk swats that made Lindsey squirm, heating her backside all over from dark pink to red.

Lindsey was sobbing by the time Renard was done, and let Mandie gather her up for a long hug. She rested her head on Mandie's shoulder and cried - she was actually two inches taller than Amandine, but felt so incredibly small right now.

Gently, carefully, Amandine righted her crying charge's clothes and patted her back. "Shhh, brave girl, good girl," she murmured soothingly to Lindsey, holding her tightly. "Auntie Mandie's got you, darling."

"S-sorry, désolé madame capitaine," Lindsey sobbed, and Renard, who had turned to put the fouet away, turned back to her. She gave the girl's blonde hair a gentle pat.

"It's forgiven."

Lindsey's head came up, her tear-filled eyes locked on Renard, who'd just spoken English to her, and she nodded.

"If you're sad about missing your friends again, Horan, I expect you to find a more constructive way to handle it in future," Renard continued, still in English so Lindsey would pay attention. "Such as, I don't know, finding a functional adult."

Lindsey blushed scarlet. She supposed neither she, Ellie, or Gilles counted as one of those in a state like that.

"You can come to me if you don't want to bother the Captain, darling," Mandie promised.

Lindsey nodded, snuggling into Amandine's arms. "W-what about Mummy Carli?"

Amandine smiled affectionately. "Like we said, we'll get her. Come on sweetheart." She led Lindsey, who was still trembling, from the room. Gilles had gone to do - whatever it was Gilles got up to when she was left unsupervised, but presumably something that would land her in less trouble this time. Ellie, however, was on call with Sam Kerr, confessing everything to her.

"Do you think Mummy's gonna be mad?" Lindsey whispered.

Mandie shook her head. "Not when you've been punished and forgiven, ma douce fille. Now that's enough worrying." She got out her phone and video called Carli, who took one look at Lindsey and her eyes narrowed.

"Who hurt my baby girl and how fast can I kill them?"

"Slow down, Lloyd," Amandine said dryly.

"It was my fault Mummy," Lindsey confessed.

"Was not," Ellie retorted. "It was mine."

"We'll call it a group effort and leave that alone. What happened?" Carli asked in exasperation.

Succinctly, Amandine summarized the whole affaire for Carli, who groaned and buried her face in her palm.

"Lindsey Michelle Horan, I swear if Renard hadn't got to you first..."

"Well she did and it was awful," Lindsey sniffled.

Carli let go of her annoyance. "I'm sorry princess," she said gently, soothing her obviously little Lindsey. "But you'll never make that mistake again, will you? Mummy doesn't want to have to give you a red card spanking, little one."

"Try not to," Lindsey promised. "I'll really try."

"I know," Carli murmured. "And you know what to do if you get sad about Mal and the team again, hmm?"

"Talk to a functional adult," Lindsey parroted Renard. "So...not Gilles."

"Definitely not," Carli muttered. "Who's telling Sinc?"

"Think you just volunteered yourself, Lloyd," Mandie replied.

"Alright," Carli allowed. "But I'll suggest that she talk to Renard to get what I wasn't there for, at least if Gilles doesn't tell all like a good girl."

"As to that, we'll have to see. But for now I think I have two sleepy little ones to put to bed," Amandine said.

Lindsey and Ellie groaned, but their protests went no further.

"Sounds good. Mind Auntie Mandie now, girls," Carli instructed.

"Yes Mummy."
"Yes Auntie Carli." They nodded, and Carli nodded in satisfaction.

"I'll let you get on with it then, and speak to you later. Sleep well."

Carli was gone, and the pair meekly let Amandine shepherd them from the team's complex, back to the flat they shared in the team housing.

Once there, it was short work to tuck them in (shoes off at the door, of course, and the rest of their clothing was comfortable enough to sleep in) and for Mandie to put them to bed together in Lindsey's bed, and cover them up with a yellow knitted blanket.

Ellie pulled her side of the blanket tighter in one hand, clutching her Roo in the other. "Is Sinc gonna be really mad with Gilles?"

Christine Sinclair was Canada's national Captain as well as Portland's in the NWSL, and so they all had experience with her. The question, Mandie knew, was purely rhetorical but she answered it anyway.

"Only as mad as Kerr was with you, or Carli was with Linds. Renard took care of it, remember? It's all okay now, unless Gilles really isn't sorry or doesn't change her behavior."

"Oh." Ellie yawned and nodded. "Okay."
"I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice, not stupid," was Lindsey's contribution. Mandie rolled her eyes.

"Did Renard not spank you enough, little one?"

"She definitely did," Lindsey sputtered.

"Right then. Straight to sleep with you," Mandie prompted. Ellie was out like a light already, and it didn't take Lindsey long to follow.

Amandine sat in a chair near the bed, and sighed.

Maybe this is why I don't have children...rambunctious littles on the team are enough.

Chapter Text

"Kneel."

The soft breath against Christen's ear made her shiver, but she sank to her knees obediently, letting the weight of responsibility fall from her shoulders. Here, when they were alone, she wasn't Christen Press the CEO or the NWSL star, she didn't even have to worry about being Alyssa's parent for the moment (not that she minded that responsibility in the least, usually.) 

Christen knelt on the cushion sitting on the floor at the end of their bed, and closed her eyes, breathing out slowly. There was a gentle brush of fingertips on her bare neck, and a gentle, familiar pressure as the slender leather choker was fastened in place.

She inhaled, and exhaled again, keeping her head bowed.

"Good girl," Tobin praised her softly, caressing her cheek. "You still want to know what's in that bag, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am," Christen whispered. 

Tobin chuckled. "Alright. I think you've been patient long enough." She brought the bag over. "Close your eyes and reach inside."

The idea of shutting down one of her senses ordinarily wouldn't have sat well with Christen. Definitely not for anyone but Tobin, but this was Tobin, her girlfriend, her love, and her dominant.

Tobin had given her a command. She obeyed, closing her eyes and reaching into the bag. 

At least it wasn't someone like Allie, Alex, or Kelley, she thought, as her fingertips brushed something soft as velvet. With those troublemakers, it'd be just as likely to be a fake spider or something. Tobin wouldn't give her something to freak her out. Not unless she wanted to be frightened.

Christen ran her hands over the velvet object - she was pretty sure it was velvet, not something that just felt like it. It was a long strip of fabric by the feel, that tapered at both ends and was wide in the middle. It was smooth on the other side, like silk.

"I think, for now, you don't need to see anything, pet," Tobin murmured as Christen pulled the object out. "Don't you think so?"

Christen gave Tobin a cautious nod - that just confirmed what she'd thought it was already, and so she let Tobin take the blindfold from her and tie it in place.

"Abre los ojos," Tobin murmured, a smile playing around her lips. Christen did open her eyes, but they were met by only darkness.

"Ma'am--"

"Color, Christen?" Tobin prompted, and Christen took another shuddering breath. Slowly, the world began to make sense again even with her sight blocked - she could still hear Tobin, feel her love's fingers stroking her neck and the touch of Tobin's breath on her cheek.

 "Green, ma'am."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, ma'am," Christen said, voice sounding steadier. "I just needed a minute."

"Alright." Tobin gave her a reassuring kiss. "You're doing well, pet. But the bag's not empty."

The bag's not empty.

Christen took that as the invitation - or command - that it was, to reach back into the bag and let her hands quest through it again. No, it wasn't empty, there were definitely a few more objects of various shapes and sizes. The blindfold had just been on the top.

The next thing Christen's hand seized on was long and narrow, somewhat cylindrical in shape, and mostly smooth. It felt like a handle, and after drawing its length through her hand she found what was at the other end.

It was a feather duster. 

Forehead creasing, she handed it up to Tobin. "Ma'am?" 

"Strip, pet," Tobin murmured, and Christen was quick to obey - removing her shirt and bra anyway, since she hadn't technically been allowed up off her knees. She tossed her discarded clothes up onto the bed - Tobin wasn't that much of a stickler for tidiness.

Even if Christen usually was. But then, she wasn't in control right now.

"Now, let's see just how quiet you can be for me, shall we, pet?" Tobin murmured, and Christen nodded in response.

She gritted her teeth as the feather duster trailed down her back.

Christen had forgotten just how ticklish she was - it had been a while since Tobin had given her reason to remember. While they were both healing from their surgeries, playing like that had been a bad idea, in case it became too - involved.

Now, though, Tobin could use this new toy to tease her and torture her, making her sensitive skin prickle. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Christen shivered, pressing her palms flat on her thighs as Tobin circled her, touching her bare chest with the feathers as well.

Tobin continued teasing Christen with the feathers, raising her eyebrows as she saw Christen squirming.

"Hold still, pet," Tobin murmured in Christen's ear, leaning in close. "I've got one more surprise for you today."

"M-more?" Christen breathed, and then immediately regretted it, as Tobin tugged the blindfold off. The world wheeled around her for a moment, and Christen stared up at Tobin with wide eyes. "S-sorry!"

"Not another word, Christen Annemarie," Tobin said firmly, and Christen winced, giving Tobin a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

"I'll still give you your surprise," Tobin said, after holding her pet's gaze firmly for a few tense moments. "But afterward, we're going to let Miss Ashlyn know how you behaved for me."

Christen did her best to keep the wince strictly internal that time. Telling Ashlyn she'd misbehaved for Tobin? True, Ashlyn was Tobin's former roommate, and she and Ali were among Tobin and Christen's closest friends, but still...Ashlyn wasn't going to let her hear the end of it for a while. The retired keeper might even insist on disciplining Christen herself, considering she taught Tobin everything she knew about...well, that.

That was an alarming prospect, although realistically, she knew Ashlyn would keep her safe. But it would be humiliating.

"Are you alright pet? You may speak," Tobin added, realizing belatedly.

Christen exhaled softly. "Yes ma'am, but just...Ashlyn?"

"Ashlyn," Tobin agreed with a nod. Then she pulled the last item out of the bag.

Christen's eyes fixed on the slender chain...and what was at each end. It wasn't as though she'd never seen anything like that before. Ali had texted her once, showing off the pair Ashlyn had got her. Not that she would tell just anyone about those - even in 'the family', Christen was probably the only one Ali would share that with, except maybe Pinoe.

But Tobin had never got Christen something like that.

Maybe it had been Ashlyn's idea.

Christen's breath quickened as Tobin's fingers teased at her nipples. There was a clamp at each end of the chain, and Christen watched, tense, as Tobin put them on her. They pinched at first - Christen fought tears - but after that, slowly, she adjusted to the pressure.

Once Christen had got used to it, the feeling was less painful and odd, almost...nice, even pleasurable. Because it gave her pleasure to be how Tobin wanted her.

"Are you alright, Christen?" Tobin asked. "Color, pet?"

"Green, ma'am," Christen confirmed. 

"You look so pretty this way, all clamped up for me," Tobin teased. "Perhaps we should show Miss Ashlyn and Ali, pet. Would you like that?"

Christen wasn't sure. Would she like that? "Ali showed me the ones Miss Ashlyn got for her, ma'am," she ventured.

"Mmm. Well, Ali isn't you, love, and you don't sound sure, so how about we just tell them about it, and we don't show them unless you're ready," Tobin suggested.

Christen let out a breath in relief. "Yes ma'am."

"Alright then." Tobin did take a picture of Christen - just for herself, no one else, that wouldn't be going anywhere public. But then she put her phone aside, and ran her fingers lightly over Christen's exposed skin, playing with the clamps.

Christen tried not to cry out. Luckily Tobin didn't seem inclined to prolong the teasing, not this first time, and undid the clamps after only a couple minutes of this.

The pain from the clamps being removed was sharper than when they were put on, but then it was over.

Before Tobin could come up with some other way to play with Christen, both women heard noise from down the hall - Alyssa was up. 

They exchanged rueful glances, and at a nod from Tobin, Christen hastily re-dressed, pulling her clothes back into order and accepting a kiss from her girlfriend as Tobin removed her collar.

"Scene's over, love," Tobin murmured. "Don't worry, I'll have you all to myself at some point soon." 

Hopefully, went unspoken between them. Far too much was still up in the air about Tobin's fate.

"I know, Tobs," Christen said, trying to sound like she believed it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I love you." Tobin gently pulled Christen to her feet, and into a firm hug.

For a moment, Christen rested her head on Tobin's shoulder, relishing the safety of Tobin's arms around her, before hugging back. "I love you, too."

Chapter Text

On the day Alyssa had to go to the airport to meet her flight (escorted by Christen and Ali), Tobin reluctantly sat at home, on video call with Abby Wambach.

Abby Wambach, who had insisted on taking the same flight to Paris that the U-23 girls would take to France.

"Maman?"

"Hmm?"

"You're sure you're alright with this? It seems kind of, I don't know..."

"Sneaky? Underhanded?" Abby rolled her eyes at her not-so-little one. "She's our girl, ma petite. My granddaughter, remember? You think I would be letting her go to France unsupervised?"

"She thinks we are."

Abby snorted. "That just means she doesn't know this family well enough yet." She smiled as Tobin laughed - Tobin needed a reason to laugh, because eighteen years old, going to France, unsupervised had...well, associations Tobin would rather not revisit.

Lindsey was, of course, in SheBelieves camp, unable to help sort AT out (or, thank fuck, get in more trouble herself). 

Besides, Lindsey was currently grounded, after the last stunt she, Ellie Carpenter, and Vanessa Gilles had pulled.

Still, Tobin would have hugged Abby, if they weren't on video call. "Thank you for everything, Maman. Tell Mama Glennon she can bring the kids by?"

"Are you sure, ma petite? You don't want more stress on you and Christen, what with everything."

"Not to move in for the duration, but to visit? We need kids in the house sometime, and with Sofia going to camp for her friendlies, and this..."

"Oh, of course," Abby agreed.

Tobin sighed in relief. "Thank you." 

Not to mention, it had been a while since she'd seen her adopted siblings.

Doubly adopted, since she was no more biologically Abby's than they were, though at least they were the right age to be Abby's. Tobin and Abby's arrangement was more...well, informal, but no less loving. Abby had been there for her nearly as long as Ashlyn had. She'd had Abby in her life longer than Glennon had. 

Tobin's mind was spinning so much she was even rambling to herself out loud, and she had no time to recognize that before--

"Tobin Powell Heath."

Oops. 

"Maman?"

"When was the last time you ate or slept?"

"Um..."

Abby's eyebrows arched.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not sure."

"Would that be acceptable from Christen?"

Tobin actually winced.

"No," she admitted.

"I think you had words with Ashlyn about Christen the other night?"

Tobin's face flamed. "How--"

"How do you think, Tobin?"

"She had no business telling you that!"

"She knows it goes no further than us." Abby's mouth was set in a disapproving line, and Tobin wilted, face burning.

"Oui, Maman."

"You're going to tell Ashlyn what you told me - or didn't - next time you see her." She frowned. "Which had better be sometime today, after Christen gets home. Call her."

Tobin sputtered. "But--"

"But before that, you are going to go into the kitchen, make yourself a peanut butter sandwich, sit down at the table, and eat it. Glass of almond milk, vanilla protein powder, and do you still get those bowls with the sliced apples and grapes?"

Tobin could only nod.

"Get yourself a handful of those. Now move."

One did not argue with a pissed off Abby Wambach, especially a pissed off Abby Wambach sitting in the airport waiting for her flight to Paris. Tobin hastily scrambled to obey, preparing the simple but nutritious meal Abby had demanded, and sat down at the table with her plate and glass, the phone next to her in a stand.

Abby was still on call, and she watched like a hawk as Tobin ate, forcing her to slow down and not gulp her food.

Christen was with Ali, taking Alyssa to the airport. Tobin would have dearly loved to have gone with, but...well, in all honesty she wasn't sure she would have been able to let go of Alyssa if they'd done that.

"I've finished eating, Maman," Tobin ventured, once the plate was clean and the glass drained.

"That's a start, ma petite. Now you're going to go to your room and get ready for bed," Abby added. "Take the hairbrush off your dresser and put it on the bed. You know the one."

Tobin's stomach dropped. "Maman no--"

"Did you just tell me no, Tobin?" Abby asked pointedly.

Quickly, Tobin shook her head. "Of course not, sorry, must have slipped out, Maman."

"That's what Maman thought, ma petite."

Blushing, Tobin went to her room and got ready for bed, stripping to her underwear and putting on a sleep shirt and shorts - it was February, but it was also midday, and the comforter on the bed would be enough to keep Tobin warm, even if what Tobin suspected was next on Abby's agenda didn't.

"I'm dressed for bed, Maman." Tobin picked the phone back up, looking at Abby warily.

"Have you got your hairbrush?"

Grimacing, Tobin fetched it. "Yes, I have it."

"Take your hair down, brush it out, and then put it back up looser. It was tied much too tightly for just spending time at home," Abby directed. "I know you like it up when you're working, but you're not working."

Not quite able to relax yet, Tobin did as she was told, taking her hair out of its high ponytail and brushing it out, then putting it back up in a way that wouldn't strain her scalp quite so much.

"Now I want you to put the pillows up on the bed in a pile, and lie down on them. You know how you have to be, ma petite.."

Tobin groaned. She should have known Abby would go there.

She arranged the pillows and lay over them, her bottom pushed up by the pile. "Do we have to--"

"We either do this now, ma petite, or we wait for Ali to get home and I have her do this."

Ali? "As in Riley? No thank you, I'll pass." She hadn't been taken in hand by her girlfriend's Kiwi teammate yet and had no desire to start now.

"That's what I thought." Abby smiled wryly. "It's a good thing I don't have to direct you much, given where I am."

Oh. Right. In the airport, in public. Where AT might be able to spot her anytime, if Abby didn't have a good hiding spot.

"Thanks, I think." Well, there was also the fact that Tobin wasn't really a sub. She went little on occasion - teenage little, never younger - and bratted for Maman, sure, but most of the time she was the Top, she knew what she wanted from her girl. "Okay, so we're doing this."

"Whenever you're ready."

"So never," Tobin snarked, taking Abby's snort of amusement as a good sign. Grimacing, she picked up the hairbrush, reached back, twisting around to see herself, and swatted down carefully.

The first swat always hurt too damn much, no matter how careful Tobin tried to make it.

"Ten to each side, alternating, ma petite," Abby instructed quietly, and Tobin blushed hotter. She decided that first too-hard swat was one and moderated her force.

The second one was...well, better, if better could really apply to her having to spank herself. Idiot, she thought. Next time try taking care of yourself. 

"Ow..." Tobin groaned when the twentieth spank fell, burying her face in the comforter.

"Look at me," Abby instructed, and reluctantly, Tobin did. "Have you finished this part?"

Because obviously we're not done.

"Yes, Maman, I finished."

"Good. Six to each side, lower down," Abby told Tobin, and Tobin nodded reluctantly, beginning to aim the smacks at her sit spots. She knew enough by now, at least, to lighten the force a little, as it would be hard enough on the more sensitive area.

Tobin felt strangely detached, forcing herself to keep going and deliver the spanks Maman had demanded. She was already crying, she was sure of it, but it wasn't finished until it was, well, finished.

She managed to deliver all twelve smacks correctly, and then the brush dropped from her hand onto the bed.

"M-Maman?" Her voice trembled. "S-sorry..."

"Shhh." Abby's voice was soothing. "Cry it out, ma petite. It's done, my good girl."

Tobin squirmed out of position, curling up with one of the pillows in her arms and sobbing into it. She rocked back and forth, feeling an ache besides the burning in her bottom.

"Maman..."

"Shhhh," Abby murmured again. "It's alright, ma petite, Maman's here. You still have your water bottle by the bed?"

"Yeah..."

"Drink your water, and try to get some sleep, sweetheart. Maman loves you, Tobin, you're a good girl, you'll be alright. When you wake up, Christen and Ali will be home, I'm sure."

And that was really how she wanted Ali to see her. This was going so well already. 

Grimacing, she pushed herself to her knees, uncapped her flavored water, and took a couple of swallows.

With Abby's encouragement, Tobin got under the covers, lying facedown with her head on two of the pillows and her arm wrapped around a third.

Softly, Abby hummed to Tobin, and it was only a few moments before her little one was asleep. 

Abby only ended the call when she saw Tobin's body relax into proper sleep.

It was time to board the flight, anyway.

While Abby had been directing Tobin to eat, though, she'd sent a text.

The recipient of that text was at Christen and Tobin's door, letting herself in with her key.

Well, Sofia's key. Close enough.

She toed her shoes off in the entry, locked the door behind herself, and made her way back to Tobin and Christen's room, opening the bedroom door silently.

Then she went to lie down on the bed next to Tobin, draping her arm over the older footballer.

Tobin didn't move.

Slowly, she ran a hand over Tobin's back.

This caused the older woman to come awake, almost swearing as she landed on her bottom.

"Clarisse, what--" she sputtered when she saw the French girl.

Clarisse shrugged. "Abby said you'd need a hug."

And no one said no to Abby Wambach. Not if they were sane, anyway.

Tobin exhaled. "She's usually right about stuff like that," she admitted.

Nodding, Clarisse let Tobin pull her close, and patted her back. 

"Whatever happened, it's going to be alright," she told Tobin, who laughed tiredly.

"We'll see, Risse. We'll see. But thank you, I appreciate it."

Clarisse - who had been left out of the French friendlies this time, staying behind with Angel City - smiled encouragingly at Tobin.

"It's nothing. I may not be as close as Sofia, but we're still family."

"Yeah." Tobin nodded, letting Clarisse help her lie back down. "We are. Sorry everyone's jetting off without us."

"I don't mind staying until Christen and Ali get back," Clarisse shrugged.

"I just hope Maman told them she sent you, so Chris doesn't get the wrong idea."

Clarisse rolled her eyes. "Name me five women more beautiful than Christen Press that you'd want in your bed, Heath. Even if there was a list like that, I'm not on it."

Tobin laughed again, more genuinely this time. "I know Chris will appreciate that."

"I'm sure she will. Now, you should be sleeping."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Shut up and go to sleep." Her tone reminded Tobin all too vividly of the girl playing Krampus for Alyssa. Damn good thing she didn't bring that fouet with her, the hairbrush was enough.

Tobin snorted in amusement at the idea of Clarisse spanking her. Not going to happen. "All right, all right." She snuggled down in the bed, Clarisse on top of the covers beside her, and relaxed as Clarisse rubbed her back.

Soon, she was asleep again - and when she woke, it was to Christen, not Clarisse, beside her.

Chapter Text

"Sinc?"

"Mm?"  Christine Sinclair sat up, studying her younger teammate intently.

"Exactly how fucked are we right now?" Vanessa Gilles asked, and Christine raised her eyebrows.

"Language, Vanessa Brigitte."

Vanessa scowled, kicking at the carpet. "You know what I mean, Sinc, this whole thing is a mess, and they started it."

"Yes, they did." Christine leaned across the table, looking pointedly at Vanessa. "And we're going to finish it, kiddo."

"You know," Vanessa grumbled, "when you told me I was grounded when I got to Orlando, this isn't what I thought you meant."

Christine snorted at that. "It's not what any of us thought," she agreed. "But the big bosses started it, we're just going to end it."

Vanessa sighed, burying her face in her hands as she thought it over.

Strike.

A week before the SheBelieves Cup. When half the team were already in camp.

They had to go on fucking strike.

Well. 

Of course they had to, because Canada Soccer wasn't going to listen otherwise, were they? The big men, in their big suits, talking back and forth about how much money CANWNT/CANXNT cost them. Our National Team. Having their budget slashed six months before the goddamn World Cup. Are they out of their fucking minds?!

Vanessa wanted to get up and pace, but she'd already tried that, and Sinc had ordered her to sit. "Sit in this chair here, where I can see you, unless you want to be doing your sitting in the corner," she'd said.

"I wish the big bosses would sit in the corner," had been her flippant reply, and Sinc had - very nearly - smiled. 

"Brat."

"But you can't tell me I'm wrong."

No, Sinc couldn't.

The bosses had taken their team - the gold medal winning Olympic team - and cut their budget. Not the men's. A week before SheBelieves. Months out from the Women's World Cup. Taken funding away.

Where was the logic in that?

So many members of the National Team had protested via Twitter and Instagram. Not just theirs, either. CANMNT were on their side, too, which thank fuck for that because it had taken a lot longer for the USMNT to come to the table back when it was their big bosses pulling this shit.

Not that it was necessarily all the very same shit. But being dodgy with money. Underfunding the women's team. The gold medal winning team, Vanessa repeated to herself, shaking her head.

It wasn't just their brothers who'd come to their aid.

The USWNT had been just as vocal. Unsurprising, since so many of the Canadians played for the NWSL. These were their greatest rivals in their confederation, but also their closest siblings. A weird contradiction. But they had led the way. The Canadians would follow.

"Are we even going to play SheBelieves?" Vanessa asked, as Sinc's cleared throat pulled her out of her reverie.

"Well, according to this we are," Sinc said dryly, showing the statement Canada Soccer had released - a non-apology, naturally, making promises to ensure the Cup went forward as planned. "But we say we're on strike. So...we'll have to see. I doubt Morgan or the others would be upset with us for forcing the opening match to be cancelled."

"Can they play with just three teams?" Vanessa frowned.

"I suppose they could always invite the Pride or Kansas City to take our place. Kansas City are training down here right now, aren't they?" Sinc shrugged. "It'd be unusual, but it'd keep the Cup moving forward. After all, we're striking to show our disapproval with the bosses, not with our sisters, or the fans. They haven't done anything wrong."

And club teams playing against a national team wasn't unheard of, even if it was slightly unusual.

"Yeah," Vanessa agreed. "Maybe we should introduce our bosses to Renard," she suggested.

Sinc snorted.

"Yeah, maybe. You recovered from your trip to the Headmistress' office?"

Blushing, Vanessa nodded. "I'll be smarter about how I cheer up my friends from now on."

"Good girl."

Chapter Text

February 19, 2023

Nashville, after Brazil's 2-0 loss to Canada in the SheBelieves Cup

"What are you doing here, Debora?"

Debinha paused in Marta's doorway, deciding that was a cue to step inside and shut the door behind her. It closed with an ominous click that almost made the younger forward jump. "I...erm...hi, Marta?" she offered, eyes fixed on the ground.

"I asked you a question, Débora Cristiane de Oliveira."

Debinha grimaced. "I...um...wanted to apologize," she tried again. "I...fucked up. Really bad. So many times." None of those times had been a card, but there'd been so many times she missed her shot or had it blocked, when she was sure she had it...

Marta studied Debinha, arms folded. "Yeah. You did," she agreed. "But it wasn't just you, Debora. We could all have done better."

"Oh...well, not you, Marta. You were great." Debinha tried for a smile, and Marta shook her head.

"Well, thank you, princess. But one person isn't enough to make or break a game--" usually, she thought, "so I don't want you taking it all on you, Debora."

"Just some, then," Debinha said quietly.

Marta's gaze sharpened. "Why are you really here?"

Debinha swallowed. "Well...um...it's your birthday, Captain," she ventured.

"It is," Marta agreed, eyebrow raised.

"You know what Harris would do. Only under these circumstances, I don't think she'd think it was appropriate to smack you, Captain, ma'am," Debinha offered. 

Marta paused.

"Are you telling me that you want a spanking, Debora? And that you're offering to let me do that, as...sort of a birthday present? Because what I saw during the match was a naughty brat losing focus and in need of a good long spanking for her own good, to re-center her."

Debinha blushed.

"I guess so, ma'am? If you want to, I mean, if it would make you feel better, I still think it was mostly my fault and--"

"Debora, shut up and let me think."

The younger woman shut up, watching Marta warily.

"Alright," Marta conceded. "But since it's a birthday spanking for my birthday, that's how many you'll be getting. My age plus one to grow on. And since it's a therapy spanking, this won't be just messing around," Marta added. "They'll be real, every one of them. Agree?"

"Yes ma'am," Debinha said meekly, trying to remember just how old Marta was. Not forty yet, Debinha didn't think. Thirty-five maybe? She winced but steeled herself. "I'm ready."

"Then come here and get over my lap, little girl," Marta ordered. 

Debinha's blush seemed to have become a permanent fixture, or nearly enough. She scrambled into position, yelping as Marta bared her bottom, and wrapped her arms tightly around the pillow Marta handed her.

Then the first powerful spank landed.

Debinha buried her face in the pillow, instantly regretting her choice. Marta's hand was as hard as the paddle, or nearly so. As the heavy swats continued raining down, Debinha tried to keep a silent count, but somewhere around twenty-five the burn became too much to think through and she gave up.

That was around the point, too, that Marta moved the punishing swats lower down, reddening her sit spots to match her bottom cheeks. 

When Marta paused, at first Debinha didn't notice, gasping out sobs and trying to squirm away from the burn in her backside. Suddenly, though, she felt the punishing hand - now soft - resting gently on the burning flesh and caressing it. 

"That was thirty-seven, Debora. Almost finished," Marta said softly. "Are you still with me, little one?"

Gulping, Debinha nodded. "Y-yes, ma'am," she choked out. 'S-sorry, didn't mean to..."

"Shhh," Marta murmured. "I'll make it quick."

Before Debinha could nod again, the last spank came, swatting down across the tops of her thighs where Marta didn't usually choose to spank. The unexpected placement made Debinha squeal, but then Marta picked her up, hugging her younger teammate close and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"Alright Debora, princess, it's all done," Marta said soothingly. She set Debinha's clothes to rights and continued holding her for a while longer. "No more naughty tantrums, alright, even if you're holding them inside. If you're frustrated you come to me right away."

"Yes ma'am," Debinha whispered, burying her face in Marta's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Thank you for being such a good little girl for me during your spanking," Marta added. "You were right, I do feel better. I think you will too, after a nap."

Debinha inexplicably found herself yawning through her tears, and nodded. "Can I stay, ma'am?"

"Alright." Marta smiled, settling Debinha on her bed. "Go to sleep, brat, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Tired as Debinha was, it didn't take her long to follow Marta's order. The Captain lay down beside her teammate and friend, holding Debinha protectively, and drifted off herself.

It had been a bad loss, true, but Debinha had gifted Marta with herself and her needs. That trust was a precious gift, and Marta planned never to be unworthy of it.

Chapter Text

"Carli?"

"Yeah?" Carli Lloyd settled back in their hotel room, turning to regard her roommate with great affection - and not a little wariness. She knew that tone. Not only had she got used to that tone from Hannah during their time in the desert together, but she'd heard it before on her teammates.

Lindsey, for instance. God, she missed her little Lindsey and Mal - not being able to communicate with them, or with her other former teammates, had been one of the hardest things in preparing for this course. No one could know where she was. Not even Brian, her husband, was told.

Well, except in that death letter...

"Carli??"

Carli snapped out of it. "Sorry, Hannah." She focused on her roommate, marveling how she'd grown from the perky, pigtailed Miss Alabama-turned-Bachelorette, seen as just a pretty face, to reveal the brave young woman she really was. "What did you need?"

"Carli, when we were alone in that box..." Hannah's voice trailed off, trembling, and Carli saw the first flicker of fear that she'd seen in a while.

"Oh, honey." Carli opened her arms to Hannah, who flew to her embrace willingly. "Yes, I remember." The box had been bloody terrifying, to put it mildly. She took a steadying breath, stroking Hannah's back.

"The things they were shouting....the interrogators...and he said..." Hannah shuddered against Carli's chest.

"He called us little girls, I remember," Carli said in the tone of the mutually offended.

"It made me feel like one," Hannah confessed. "But I've been trying so hard not to be one."

"You're such a brave young woman, Hannah Brown. Don't you let anyone tell you that you're not. Do you remember what Staff told us after? We're women they'd welcome fighting at their side. We passed the course, they're proud of us," Carli prompted, and Hannah nodded into her shoulder.

"I remember," she whispered. "I'll always remember that. But I think I'll always remember how the interrogator made me feel, too. For a minute I felt so helpless," she admitted. "Helpless and...and..." She stumbled on the word, pulling back to look at Carli.

Carli raised her eyebrows.

"And?" Carli prompted, rubbing Hannah's shoulder comfortingly.

"Like a little girl who'd been...." Hannah trailed off again, cheeks pink from more than the triple-digit heat they'd experienced during their ordeal.

Carli smiled wryly. "Oh. I think I see, sweetheart." She moved her hand to Hannah's back again, rubbing gentle circles. "Want me to take a guess?"

Hannah nodded into her shoulder again.

"Naughty, maybe?" Carli offered.

Hannah's blush deepened. "Yeah."

"Mhmm. They were having that effect, weren't they?" Carli empathised. Hannah would be surprised Carli was taking all of this so - well, calmly, if that wasn't just how Carli was all the time. Stoic and strong, she thought. But surely Carli hadn't been like that forever.

"What did you think they were going to do?" Hannah asked, to quell her nerves as she remembered.

If Carli could read minds, she would have reassured Hannah that no, she definitely hadn't been like that forever. Once upon a time she hadn't been far different from Hannah, really. 

"Well, when they demanded to know what we thought was going to happen to little girls, two rascals who'd been lying to them, their tone was pretty suggestive," Carli said wryly. "It wasn't far off something Foudy might have said, back in her day. Though of course she'd draw the line well before shutting someone in an underground box and pouring sand on them to get answers."

Hannah felt a giggle startled out of her. "Is that why you've been so calm the whole time, Staff and the interrogators weren't worse than your captains, Carli?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh no, they were definitely worse than my captains," Carli assured Hannah. "But sometimes their tone was familiar, so I could compartmentalize. Take orders, do the thing, survive to the next drill."

And she had survived, Carli reflected, even though she had failed many missions. She'd been the one to always get right back up and try again - something the staff officers had praised her for. Hannah had impressed them, too.

Hannah nodded against her shoulder as Carli hugged her close. "What would Foudy have done if she had two little girls who'd been lying to her?" Hannah ventured finally.

It was Carli's turn to blush.

"Well, she has one at least," she muttered.

Hannah blinked twice, pulling back to look at Carli again. "What?"

Carli fidgeted. "She hasn't stopped being my Captain just because either of us retired," she did her best to explain. "And it's not as though I could tell her what we were doing."

"But she works for Fox. Shouldn't she have been told by someone?" Hannah blinked. "We are talking about the same Julie Foudy, right, former captain, Fox analyst and color commentator, that Julie Foudy?"

"That's the one," Carli confirmed dryly. "But no, Hannah, you heard Staff, when you go away for Special Forces, you tell nobody. Not even Brian knew where I was."

Hannah nodded, realizing. "I just thought even though you couldn't, someone might."

"Nope." Carli shook her head.

"What would Foudy do about you lying to her?" Hannah asked warily.

Carli raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to one side. "Are you asking me to tell you, or are you asking me to show you, Hannah?" she asked mildly.

Hannah licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry. "Tell me, so when we get back I'm prepared," she offered. "Whatever Foudy does, I'll take it too, that's what being sisters in arms is about, isn't it?"

Oh, you poor, brave, silly child, Carli thought with a rush of exasperated affection. She had no idea what she was signing up for. Again.

"That's what it's about," she agreed, stroking Hannah's hair. "Why don't you take an educated guess, then, little sister? What do you think Foudy would do to teammates who lied to her?"

Hannah fidgeted. "Yell a lot, like Staff, but not as bad as the interrogators?" she offered.

Carli laughed a little at that. "Maybe sometimes, if we'd been extra stupid," she allowed. "But Foudy didn't have to yell. She had this look."

Hannah bit her lower lip, releasing it when Carli tapped there out of habit. "Was that...was that all?"

Carli shook her head. "Not usually, no. You were Miss Alabama, Hannah, so you grew up in the Deep South, right?"

Slowly, Hannah nodded. "Yes ma'am, I'm from Tuscaloosa," she agreed. Carli noticed the return of ma'am to Hannah's vocabulary addressing her, and wondered if it was deliberate.

"How was it with your parents when you misbehaved, how did they handle things when you were naughty?" Carli asked carefully. 

Hannah blushed, looking at her lap. "I wasn't n-naughty that much, ma'am."

Carli snorted. "That, I can believe. But sometimes?" 

The girl's blush deepened. "Sometimes...if Mama or Meemaw caught me out doing something I shouldn't, they'd have given me a licking."

Carli nodded, understanding perfectly. "Well then. That's the way Foudy handled naughtiness, too," she agreed. "Still want to risk it?"

Hannah blinked twice. "She's going to..." She sputtered. "But Carli, you're like...thirty-five."

"Thirty-nine, but thank you, and it doesn't make a bit of difference to Foudy I promise you that," Carli said wryly.

"Well...if you're sure," Hannah ventured. "It can't possibly be worse than being shut in a box underground, or having sand and water thrown on us. Or being lit on fire."

"Trust me, kiddo, after we've survived being lit on fire literally, being lit on fire metaphorically is going to be nothing," Carli said with a faint smile. "Nothing Foudy can or would do is more terrifying than that."

Hannah nodded, leaning into Carli. "I trust you, Carli," she whispered. "I'm not scared, and I'll take my chance with Foudy for you."

"Alright." Carli hugged Hannah close. "Don't worry, everything's going to be alright now, Hannah, sweetheart. The worst is over, nothing can top that ever again."

Nodding, Hannah found herself yawning. She curled up in Carli's arms, and the two dozed off together.

Soon enough, they'd be back States-side, and facing Julie Foudy.

For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

Chapter Text

When Carli and Hannah stepped off the plane in New York, picked up their bags, and headed outside, they were greeted by - to Hannah's surprise, but not particularly Carli's - Julie Foudy.

Julie's raised eyebrows told Carli all she needed to know. "It's good to see you again, Julie," she said, squeezing Hannah's hand supportively.

"You too, Carli," Julie offered the younger woman a knowing smile. "I see you've got yourself a new hanger-on."

"I'm Carli's friend, ma'am," Hannah said firmly.

"Yes, I can see that," Julie agreed. "I imagine you're still a bit jet-lagged. Why don't we take this back to my suite, you can rest up before having to make the rounds with the reporters and who knows who else."

Carli and Hannah exchanged tired glances. Still, neither of them were unfamiliar with the spotlight, and they nodded obediently, having expected that such interviews would come.

When they got back to Julie's hotel suite, she took them into the kitchen. Carli sat down at the table in the breakfast nook as though it were a matter of course, and Hannah followed, trusting her mentor knew what she was doing.

"We don't want to interrupt Julie when she's switched into mummy mode," Carli said softly, trying to keep Foudy from hearing her. 

Foudy's lips quirked slightly, but she ignored the remark otherwise, pouring three glasses of limeade, flavored with mint and topped with spearmint leaves, pineapple and maraschino cherries. She brought these to the table, and gave the girls their drinks, sitting down with her own. 

There was a plate of shortbread cookies on the table, and Carli took a piece for Hannah, then took one for herself. They ate in silence for a little while, then Hannah sipped carefully at her drink, watching the older woman warily. "Thank you for the drinks, and for coming to pick us up, ma'am." 

"You're welcome, Hannah," Julie said calmly. "Nothing to say, Carli Anne?"

Carli's stomach twisted. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

Hannah looked at Carli in disbelief. In their time away she'd never once heard the word ma'am pass Carli's lips. Yet it sounded so natural for her to say it to Foudy.

Must be a Captain thing, she reflected.

"Yes, I rather suspect you are," Julie agreed. "Would you like to tell me what you are sorry for?"

Carli met Foudy's eyes squarely. "I disobeyed you, ma'am," she admitted. "I promised you'd always know where to reach me if I was needed."

"Instead, you disappeared," Julie said quietly. "What if your little ones had needed you?"

"One did," Carli said just as quietly, "and I'm not sorry I was there for her."

Hannah's eyes widened as Foudy turned to look at her.

"Ten days," Foudy said softly, eyes locked on Hannah. "You were off the radar for ten days, all of you. No one knew where you were or what you were doing."

Hannah exhaled shakily. "Was it ten days? It felt like longer, ma'am." She took a sip of her drink to steady herself.

"Lost track of time out there?"

"You don't know what we've been through, with all due respect. Ma'am."

Carli's eyebrows went up as she heard this answer, glancing at Foudy warily.

"You're right, I don't," Foudy agreed. "Why don't you tell me."

Hannah looked at Carli. "Do we have to?"

Carli licked her lips, taking a sip of her drink to cover her hesitation. "Technically, we don't have to. At least you don't, Hannah."

"Consider it practice for the interviews tomorrow."

Hannah groaned. Oh. Right. "Yes ma'am," she offered.

"Good choice, Hannah," Foudy said mildly.

Hannah slowly began recounting what it was like meeting Carli and the others, telling the stories of the trials they had endured - near-drowning (repeatedly), being lit on fire, being forced to climb from a boat in the middle of the water into a hovering helicopter by a damp rope. Carli's hand found Hannah's under the table, and she squeezed Hannah's hand supportively as the former Bachelorette told each story.

They watched the expressions on Foudy's face shift, Foudy's gaze moving away from Hannah and to Carli.

Carli looked stoically back, but she felt some guilt as Hannah got to the 'death letters'.

"Death letters," Julie echoed.

"Weirdest group therapy I've ever been to," Hannah muttered.

Carli snorted. Then she got up without being told and fetched the letter from her gear.

She handed it to Foudy, who read it in silence.

Foudy folded it neatly, putting it back in its envelope, and putting it to one side.

"Have you had enough lemonade, girls?"

Hannah blinked innocently at Foudy. "But I haven't even got to the interrogation yet, ma'am."

Julie's lips thinned. "Carli, pet, is she exaggerating to try and mess with me?"

"No, ma'am," Carli shook her head. "Well, she might be being a bit of a brat about how she's telling the story, but no embellishment. It all really happened. And if she's being a brat, it's because she needs to release all of what we went through. Hannah's not a bad girl."

"Sounds like a little girl I used to know," Julie raised her eyebrows at Carli. "Remind you of anyone, Carli Anne?"

"I'm sure I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Cap--" Carli cut herself off. "Ma'am," she corrected herself, but not before Foudy gave her a knowing smile.

"Were you a naughty brat, Carli?" Hannah asked with obvious interest.

Carli sputtered.

"You said about how Foudy would give lickings for being that," Hannah added, looking intrigued. "She did to you, didn't she?"

"I'm right here, Hannah Kelsey," Foudy said mildly, and the younger girl jumped.

"How did you...Carli didn't tell you my name," Hannah protested.

"An oversight on her part, I'm sure," Foudy replied. "My girl normally has better manners than that. Though you're quite right. Not always."

Hannah tried to digest this new information, but wasn't quite sure what to do with it. "Brian's your husband, isn't he, Carli?"

"Yes, and this isn't the same thing," Carli replied calmly. "Foudy and I have known each other longer than I've been with Brian. She's my friend, my Captain, and a bit more, but there's nothing romantic between us." 

Hannah wanted to know about the 'more', but judging by Foudy's expression she figured she'd be finding out soon enough anyway.

"Just because Carli and I have this arrangement doesn't mean you have to be involved, if you don't want to, Hannah," Foudy prompted the younger girl. "But just so we are absolutely clear; you girls are going to sit here and finish your snack, and when you're done, I'm going to take Carli into the other room and give her the spanking she needs to remind her that she doesn't have to be the stoic one, in control of herself all the time. And for lying to me, of course. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Hannah said, echoed by Carli a moment later. Hannah frowned. "Ma'am?" she ventured.

"Yes, Hannah?" Foudy asked.

"I think there were a few times out there when Carli would've given me a licking herself, if she'd been able to get away with it," Hannah admitted.

"Probably," Carli said with an exasperated smile. "And you would have deserved it, too, though I wouldn't have cared about you any less. It's because Julie and I care."

"Are you telling me that you think Carli ought to give you your spanking, Hannah?" Julie prompted, and, blushing, Hannah nodded.

"If anyone has to, ma'am, I'd...I'd rather take it from Carli. She looked after me out there."

"That's fair enough," Foudy agreed readily. "Alright Carli Anne, when you're done, I'll let you take Hannah back there, first."

Carli and Hannah exchanged looks. Hannah's first instinct was to dawdle about eating the shortbread and finishing her limeade, but a slight headshake from Carli stopped her. She didn't exactly wolf it down, either, but the two of them were finished rather sooner than Hannah would have liked.

Then Carli stood and offered Hannah her hand. "Come on sweetheart. It's alright, I promise. You've definitely survived worse. I was there."

"Yes ma'am." Hannah took Carli's hand, following her out of the main room of the suite and into one of the two adjoining bedrooms. This one, Carli saw, had a king size bed, and it had both Carli and Hannah's bags.

Clearly Foudy had moved their things while they had finished off their snack, and the implication was obvious. Neither of them was shy about sharing a bed with the other, they'd been close enough in quarters during their training, but the fact that Foudy had decided it for them startled Hannah a bit.

"Carli?" she asked as the older woman seated herself on the bed.

"Hmm?"

"How did Foudy know to get a room for us? How did she know we'd be here?" Hannah asked, even as she obeyed Carli's gesture and positioned herself over her mentor's lap.

"I don't question how Foudy knows things," Carli said dryly. "By now I just take it for granted."

Hannah nodded into the pillow.

She tensed as Carli patted the seat of her shorts, squirming.

"We're going to do this in layers, alright?"

"Carli?" she squeaked.

"Over your shorts first, then underwear after that, and bare after that, if we need to," Carli explained. "Understood?"

Hannah blushed at the succinct delineation of her fate. "Yes ma'am." 

"You're very lucky I'm not Kate," Carli added. "She nearly always spanked bare to start with."

"Is Kate worse than Foudy?" Hannah asked warily.

"Sometimes. Are you trying to stall things, Hannah, sweetheart?" Carli raised an eyebrow.

"Not much, ma'am," Hannah said softly. "But after you finish with me, Foudy's going to...and I don't want...."

"Oh, Hannah," Carli rubbed Hannah's back gently. "I'll be perfectly safe with her, I swear. So are you. Safer than anything we did out there."

"Okay," Hannah nodded. "I'm...I'm ready."

"Remember what I told you. Hannah. Being lit on fire for real is definitely worse," Carli said, giving her a comforting pat. "You survived that, you'll be okay."

Hannah nodded, jumping as Carli landed the first spank with more sound than actual sting to it. She squirmed a little as the swats continued to fall, but slowly started to relax - Carli wasn't spanking very hard, and the swats were definitely nowhere near as bad as anything Staff, or worse, the Interrogators, had done. She felt safe, almost comfortable, over Carli's lap.

She hadn't been counting the light spanks, but Carli had, and when the twenty-eighth had fallen on Hannah's sit spots, she paused, sliding her fingers into Hannah's waistband and tugging lightly.

Hannah raised her hips a little so Carli could pull her shorts down all the way, not happy about losing them but not terribly uncomfortable yet. She sniffled a little as Carli took her shorts down, whining as Carli settled her back in position.

"Please, Carli?"

"Please what, honey? Smack you harder?" Carli asked, her tone light and teasing. Hannah blushed crimson.

"No? I'll be so good."

"You are good. You're being a very good girl for me," Carli encouraged her. "It's alright sweetheart, you've made it this far, I've got you, you're okay."

"Okay," Hannah whispered. Carli rubbed her back gently before resuming her spanking, the swats falling sharper with one less layer of clothing in the way. 

They still weren't terrible, though, and Hannah did her best to lie still and take it. She managed it for the first twenty or so, but then Carli turned her attention back to Hannah's sit spots, and Hannah's feet drummed on the bed as the stinging smacks landed there. Tears had started to fall, though she wasn't sobbing.

"Okay, settle," Carli soothed after the last spank fell, stroking Hannah's hair gently. "It's okay honey, I know it's starting to hurt but you're alright. Do you understand why I'm spanking you, little one?" She'd given Hannah time to think about it, though they'd brought it up before leaving Foudy.

"B-because there were times you should've when we were out there, only the boys, and no privacy, so..."

"Mhmm. And?" Carli prompted.

"Because...because you and Julie care."

"Good girl," Carli praised her. "And, because you need this release after holding on to what we went through for so long," she added. "Take a breath and let it out, Hannah, it's alright, I'm so proud of you."

Chapter Text

Hannah took a breath and let it out obediently. She made to get up, but Carli's hand was still on her back.

"Ma'am?" Hannah ventured.

"Are we done, sweetheart?" Carli inquired. "Have you let it all out yet?"

Slowly, Hannah shook her head.

"It's okay, Hannah," Carli said reassuringly. "One last bit then. You know what we have to do."

Slowly, Hannah lifted up again and felt Carli tug away the last bit of negligible protection before settling her back in place, her panties joining her shorts somewhere around her knees. She shivered.

"Cold, little one?" Carli rubbed her bottom. "We can fix that."

Hannah sputtered indignantly. "Carli!"

"I'm teasing, sweetheart," Carli said wryly. "But you will feel a bit warmer when we're done. Remember, nothing like so bad as what Staff did," she added. "You're perfectly safe, I haven't let you down yet have I?"

"No ma'am," Hannah conceded. "I know I'm safe."

"You are. I promise," Carli said reassuringly. The next spank made Hannah whimper - it was definitely sharp enough to sting, and the ones that followed were no different. The light pink color Carli had brought out in her bottom was deepening, and she squirmed, legs scissoring a little as Carli's spanks turned her bottom from cherry blossom pink to deep rose. Her tears flowed more earnestly, and her breath came in little gasps as she squirmed, but she clasped her hands in front of her, not letting them fly back.

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, two to each sit spot, and then they were done. Carli scooped Hannah up into her arms, rubbing her back. 

"There, there, my brave girl," Carli soothed Hannah, rocking her gently. "I've got you, let it go, it's alright."

Hannah pressed close to Carli as her mentor tugged her clothes back into position, whimpering as they slid up over her sore bottom. "I'm sorry I was bad," she said softly.

"You aren't a bad girl, sweetheart. You were a bit naughty while we were out there, but it's hardly high crimes and treason," Carli rubbed Hannah's back comfortingly. "You did so well, Hannah. So well out there, and so well for me just now. I want you to know how proud of you I am. So proud of you, little one."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hannah whispered, snuggling close as Carli cuddled her. "I'll be good for you, I swear."

"You are. I know, honey," Carli said, rubbing Hannah's back. "You're so good, Hannah, sweetheart. It's all done now, no more to worry about, not from me, not from Foudy. All forgiven," she promised. 

"I'm still worried," Hannah admitted.

Carli looked at her, meeting the younger girl's eyes. "About what?"

"You and Foudy."

Carli blushed. "Oh. That. No, Hannah, I promise I'll be perfectly fine. I won't be any better off than you are now, but I won't be much worse off, either. Foudy doesn't take lying well, but the worst she's going to do is light a metaphorical fire in my backside. Not a real one, and we've been there."

Hannah nodded, shuddering.

"That was terrifying."

"Yeah. But we got through it, didn't we?" Carli gave Hannah a squeeze. "After that, I can handle Foudy. We can handle anything."

There was a knock at the door.

"It's open," Carli said, after looking at Hannah for permission. Foudy stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

"We need to talk, Carli Anne."

"You can say whatever you want in front of me, ma'am," Hannah interrupted, and a flicker of a smile crossed Foudy's lips.

"Brave little lion cub, aren't you? It's been a while since anyone interrupted me for Carli's sake."

"To be fair, it's been a while since we were in this situation where anyone else could see, ma'am," Carli muttered.

It took Hannah a moment to realize that Carli had just implied she'd been spanked by Foudy before, maybe after Foudy's retirement. Possibly more than once. She looked from her mentor to the older woman in alarm.

"It's alright, little one, I promise you that. Carli is perfectly safe with me," Julie assured her, crossing the room to sit beside Carli and Hannah on the bed. "You worry about her, hm?"

Hannah nodded slowly. "When...when we were being interrogated, the man grabbed Carli and..." She trailed off, seeing a flicker of some unreadable emotion cross Foudy's face. 

"Did he hurt you, pet?"

"No ma'am, not really," Carli said quietly, wincing. "He yelled, and he shook me, but I wasn't physically harmed."

"Did any of them hurt you?"

Carli knew what Julie was asking. She shook her head. "The tasks were difficult, and some of them hurt, but Staff and the interrogators didn't ever actually hurt us," she promised. "Maybe embarrass us a bit, and frighten us on purpose, especially the interrogators, but we were as safe as they could make us in that situation." 

"Alright." Julie ran her hand over Carli's hair gently, searching her face, as though reassuring herself that Carli was intact. 

"Carli said they were worse than you, but they sounded a lot like you and the other captains in some ways," Hannah reported. Foudy looked at her.

"Did she?"

Hannah nodded. "She thought about you and the captains so she could compartmentalize."

"I see," Foudy said thoughtfully, returning her gaze to Carli, who blushed.

"Are you sure you dealt with your girl appropriately, Carli, pet?"

Carli nodded quickly. "Yes ma'am, I'm absolutely sure. Hannah was a very good girl for me," she added.

"It seems she still has a bit of sass left," Foudy mused.

Hannah blushed, staring at her lap. "I'm sorry," she protested meekly.

"I think I'm going to need you to go to the corner and face the wall, while I take care of Carli. Can you do that, Hannah?" Foudy prompted. "Or is being separated from Carli too hard for you?"

"We've been separated worse than that, trust me," Carli muttered. Hannah shuddered, and Carli gave her a reassuring hug.

"It's alright sweetheart, you'll still be in the room," she promised. "It's not going to be isolation like what happened." 

Hannah nodded slowly. "I can do it," she offered.

"Good girl," Carli praised, and Hannah slid off Carli's lap, going obediently to the corner and facing the wall. Behind her, she could hear Foudy gently scolding Carli for going off alone without a word to anyone, for lying about her intent to get involved in this thing, and for being in a situation where she could have been seriously injured, worse than anything that ever happened in her whole career. Though Foudy's voice was soft, the sternness in her tone made even Hannah wince, and the scolding wasn't even directed at her.

Hannah resisted the urge to turn from her corner and look, when she heard the spanking start. Judging by the sound, Carli was being spanked bare to start with, and she grimaced at the thought. The crack of Julie's hand on Carli's bare bottom was loud in the hotel room - and it was a hotel room, too, Hannah reminded herself, no matter how nice of a suite Foudy had found for them. She anxiously wondered how thin the walls were.

"Why are you being spanked, Carli Anne?" Foudy asked after a while, and Hannah pressed deeper into her corner, fighting the urge to run to Carli.

"Because...because I lied to you, ma'am, and because I placed myself in a situation where I could be seriously injured, without the support of my family," Carli gasped.

"And?" Julie pressed, addressing a flurry of sharper swats to Carli's sit spots. She bit down on a curse before it could leave her mouth. No reason to provoke Foudy into worse.

"And...because it's inappropriate to leave my family without a word," Carli gasped. "What if the little ones had needed me."

"That's right, Carli Anne. And because you need this release from your experience, as much as Hannah did. Isn't that right?" Foudy prompted. "You never have to be stoic for me. You know that, don't you, pet?"

"Y-yes ma'am," Carli whispered. Foudy had been spanking steadily while talking, all the while bringing her closer to tears. Carli definitely had a higher limit for pain tolerance than Hannah, but then, Julie had been spanking her harder to begin with.

Hannah froze as she heard Foudy go quiet, pausing to pull something out of her bag. Now the only sound in the room was the stinging thud of something against bare flesh, wrenching more than silent tears from Carli at last.

The younger girl turned her head to look when she was sure Foudy was too involved in her task to catch her, and swallowed as she saw Foudy using a soccer cleat to finish Carli's spanking.

The bumpy sole bit deeper into Carli's punished bottom than a plimsoll would, and it didn't take many swats from this to have Carli sobbing freely.

Hannah quickly turned back to her corner as Julie scooped Carli up, hoping Foudy wouldn't notice her. However, as Foudy held Carli in her arms, comforting her, she turned her head toward the corner.

"Come here, little one."

Hannah's stomach plummeted.

When Carli had got herself under control - which didn't take long, all things considered - and Hannah still hadn't moved from the corner, she took matters into her own hands. Standing up, her clothes back in place, she made her way to Hannah's side.

"Sweetheart," she said softly. "Foudy asked you to do something."

Hannah flung herself into Carli's arms. "But it was terrible," she whispered, and Carli hugged her close.

"Bad enough, but I'm alright," Carli promised. "I told you I would be."

Hannah pulled back and looked at Carli worriedly. "Are you sure?"

Carli nodded.

"It's alright honey, Foudy just wants to talk to you."

"Okay," Hannah said reluctantly, allowing Carli to lead her back to Foudy.

Julie looked at the girl carefully. "Are you alright, little one?"

Hannah blinked. "Am I....yes, I think so?" she offered. "Carli didn't hurt me. I mean, taking my licks hurt at the end a bit, but not...not too bad." 

"Were you alright when you saw what happened with Carli," Foudy clarified.

Hannah blushed.

"You...used a soccer shoe on her."

"I did," Foudy said. "It wouldn't be the first time, although it's not one of my preferred implements. But for something like this, I find it reasonable."

"It looked awful," Hannah said guardedly.

"Hmm. Well, it's not pleasant, but that's the point, little one," Foudy said. "Carli isn't damaged, I promise you. I take care with my girls." She fixed her gaze on Hannah. "All of them."

"Ma'am?" Hannah ventured.

"I think perhaps we weren't quite done with you, little girl," Foudy said mildly. "When you're told to face the corner, you stay facing the corner until you're called."

When Hannah heard the phrase 'little girl', she froze. Carli noticed, and tugged Hannah back into her embrace. "Sweetheart, it's okay," she whispered. "Foudy's not like them, I promise. Nothing like that bad, not ever."

Foudy softened immediately. "Little one," she amended. "Breathe. Carli can hold you, but look at me," she instructed gently. "Breathe in and out, slowly. When you can talk, tell me what happened just now."

Hannah raised her eyes to Foudy's, and obeyed, trembling a little. "The...the interrogators, when they took us...when they had me and Carli, they said..." Hannah pressed deeper into Carli's embrace. "They called us little girls like that, like we didn't mean anything to them, like they could..."

Foudy stepped forward, pulling Hannah and Carli both gently into her arms. "No, little one," she said softly. "Carli cares about you very much, you're hers now, and that makes you part of our family. When I say 'little girl' I don't mean it the way they said it. Shh, it's alright, if you don't want me to say it I won't any more. You're safe, I promise. Is 'little one' still alright?"

Hannah nodded slowly. "They didn't say that, and it sounds different, ma'am."

"Alright. It's okay, thank you for telling me. Good girl."

Hannah nodded meekly. "Are...are you going to...to..."

"Girl survives being half drowned and lit on fire, and can't even say that word," Carli murmured, mouth twitching. "Come on sweetheart, it's not a dirty word, and you've survived much worse. It's okay to say it."

Hannah blushed deeply. "Is Foudy going to...spank me?" she whispered.

"I considered it," Foudy answered for herself. "But I think on the whole, no. Not now." She patted Hannah's shoulder. "It's alright little one, all's well. Just breathe easy for us now, we've got you."

Hannah stayed in Carli's embrace until she was calmer. Then she looked back at Foudy. "M-maybe you should. Ma'am."

Julie stepped back, regarding Hannah with raised eyebrows. "Maybe I should what, little one?"

"M-maybe you should..."

Hannah found Carli's gaze, half amused, half sympathetic. Carli squeezed her hand in support, as Julie waited.

"Maybe you should spank me, too," Hannah said finally. "If Carli hadn't had to take care of me, she wouldn't have needed to--"

"Hey," Carli interrupted firmly. "I stayed because I needed to finish what I started. Julie knows that about me. I don't quit when I start something. Yes, I stayed for you too, but I had to stay to prove something to myself."

"That's right, Carli," Julie agreed. "I've always admired that about you. Just...next time, think about what you're doing, pet, hmm? Brian and our girls would have been inconsolable if all they had left was that letter to remember you by."

"I promise, ma'am, this put me off trying it for real," Carli said with a rueful smile. "But I had to know I could."

Hannah nodded. "I feel the same way. I'm glad that we got through it together, Carli."

"God help me if you introduce Hannah to Lindsey and Mal," Julie murmured. 

Carli laughed, gave Hannah an affectionate grin, and hugged the girl close.

"Maybe I will." 

"I'd like that," Hannah said softly.

"Maybe someday, little one," Julie allowed. "Now, you've had a long trip. Try and get a nap in before dinner, hmm?"

"Yes ma'am," the girls chorused, sighing in relief as Foudy left them alone. They changed for bed and climbed in together, finally able to relax after a week and a half of grueling fear and pain.

They had made it through the final trial.

All was, once again, well, and they could rest.

Chapter Text

"Tia Ali?"

"Hmm? What is it, pet?" Ali Riley raised an eyebrow in Alyssa's direction, watching the teen sitting at her laptop at the table, swinging her legs restlessly. Alyssa was rubbing one of her fidget toys absently, a gesture Ali found adorable. 

"I don't know how to start this essay."

Ali snorted. "The best place is to start at the beginning," she intoned, "then when you come to the end, stop."

AT leveled a glare on Ali. "That's not funny, and it doesn't help either," she pouted.

Ali's other eyebrow went up. "I know the best cure for pouting," she informed Alyssa evenly. "It helps focus wonderfully well, too."

Alyssa quickly got rid of her put-upon expression. "Ice cream?" she asked innocently, turning on the puppy eyed look.

"Not hardly, and how you can be asking for ice cream in this weather is beyond me," Ali grumbled, sitting down on the couch at the side of the room. "Come here, pet."

AT let out a soft whine, but did as she was told very reluctantly. "Tia Ali, I'm sorry."

"Shhh," Ali soothed Alyssa, helping the girl into position over her lap. "I know, sweetheart. Inattention is hardly red card level. You'll be alright," she promised, offering her other hand to AT to hold on to.

Sniffling, Alyssa nodded. "Okay, Tia Ali," she whispered, shivering as Ali bared her bottom. The only hope she held onto now was that it wouldn't be a very long spanking, if Ali was starting bare to begin with.

She yelped as the first swat fell. "Ow!" That had stung, despite Ali's reassurance, and she kicked a little, squeezing Ali's hand with both of hers.

"I know, pet," Ali murmured, continuing the spanking at the same strength. The first dozen swats painted Alyssa's bottom cheeks pink, starting to turn them a light rosy color. Then Ali moved her hand lower, aiming the last six at Alyssa's sit spots, just where she settled the most weight when she sat down. Tears spilled down Alyssa's cheeks, though she wasn't crying hard, and Ali gently righted Alyssa's clothes, pulling her in for a hug.

"Just a little reminder, Alyssa, pet," she murmured, stroking Alyssa's hair gently. "It's alright little one. You've survived, haven't you?"

AT winced and nodded, standing experimentally and moving. Her bottom hurt but it wouldn't last too long - maybe just long enough for her to complete her assignment. "But what should I write about, Tia?"

Ali squeezed AT's shoulder reassuringly. "You don't have a topic assigned?"

She shook her head. "They said anything we like and know about."

"Why don't you write about football, and how you feel about starting your pro season?" Ali suggested.

The eighteen year old's eyes lit up, and she nodded. "All right. Thanks, Tia Ali."

"You're welcome." Ali smiled as AT resumed her seat, humming sympathetically at AT's soft noise of discomfort. "Settle, sweetheart, I know, but it won't last long. You're okay, honey, I promise, all's well. Just focus."

"Yes ma'am, Tia Ali," Alyssa agreed, and settled back down to her work.

Chapter Text

April 9, 2013, The Hague, Netherlands. USWNT vs. The Orange Lionesses, 3-1   

The match was over, they had won, but Crystal Dunn was blazing with fury. "Those, those...I can't believe they made that call!" she erupted from the bench. Only a substitute, she had watched with mixed emotions as the team played, and had erupted in anger when a header from her best friend, Julie Beth Johnston, had obviously spun into the goal in the 73rd minute. "Jules made that goal. You KNOW she made that goal!" she had yelled at coach Tom Sermanni, whose only response was a shrug. It had been called offside by the referee; what was he supposed to do about it? "You utter fucking bastard!"   

That got HAO's attention. The older woman had come off the field, replaced by Meghan Klingenberg about ten minutes before, and now she swept an arm around Crystal, pulling her away from Sermanni. "Crystal Alyssia Dunn, we do not talk like that."  

Crystal's chest heaved in anger. "I won't apologize," she said shortly. "I won't. Jules deserved that goal. You saw it, HAO. It was real."  

 "It's not our call," Heather O'Reilly said evenly, looking her younger teammate in the eyes. "And we still don't call Tom names. If you weren't on the bench, little one, you would be getting carded right about now." She barely glanced up as the whistle blew and Kling strode toward them, Julie two steps behind.   

"What happened?" Kling demanded as Crystal struggled in HAO's grasp. "The ref's a fucking bastard and Tom's one too for letting him do that to Jules!"   

Julie grimaced at Crystal's outburst, especially as HAO gave the twenty-year-old a sharp look. "Crystal. Enough."   

"I won't say I'm sorry," Crystal said again, though she seemed much less sure of herself now she was facing down Meghan Klingenberg, who looked thoroughly displeased.   

"Dunn. Johnston. With me," Kling ordered, jerking her head in the direction of the locker rooms. Julie slipped her hand into Crystal's, and the two girls followed their older teammate warily.  

When they got into the baths, the first thing Kling did was pull Julie into a one-armed hug. "I saw that header, kiddo. It was a good one. Whether it was offside or not...well, it was a really narrow call. You were right on the line. It could've gone either way. I think it was clean, but maybe the ref saw something we didn't."   

"All right," Julie agreed quietly. Kling squeezed her hand. "Go ice up," she told Julie, and Julie gave Crystal a look before going to obey.   

"As for you," Kling said, fixing her gaze on a worried Crystal Dunn, "you broke the Rule. Twice." She'd cursed at Sermanni and then cursed about him. "What do you think we call that?"  

 Crystal's eyes widened. "But Kling!"   

"We don't curse at people. Strike one - and two, little one," Kling said, holding two fingers up.  

Crystal's stomach dropped. "Kling..."   

"Now. Did you curse while being little yourself...I think not. I've not seen you go down yet," Kling deduced. "But in front of one?" She glanced at Julie, who was sitting in the bath, hugging her knees to her chest. Julie had gone down the minute her header was called wrong, and had stumbled her way through the rest of the match, needing Kling to keep an eye on her.  

 Crystal's eyes widened. "Oh please, Kling, no..." she begged as Kling put up a third finger.   

"Too bad, Dunn. You did it to yourself," Kling said quietly. She dug into her kit, pulling out a bottle of non-toxic liquid hand soap, a clean washcloth and her water bottle. Crystal watched in mute horror as Kling soaped up the cloth.   

"Open, Dunn."   

She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head.   

"One." Crystal backed up a step.   

"Two-these are your extras you're earning yourself with the hairbrush, by the way."  

 With a horrified squeak, Crystal whimpered and shook her head again. "Please, no!"   

"Three, Dunn." Tears prickling her eyes, the twenty-year-old girl moved hastily back to Kling, and opened her mouth.  

Kling inserted the cloth, rubbing it in well all over Crystal's mouth. Crystal didn't bite her, though Kling suspected Crystal wanted to, and when Kling took the cloth back out she tugged the crying girl into her arms, rubbing her back.   

"Five minutes, sweetheart. I've gotcha, you're safe with Kling, it's gonna be okay." Crystal felt the furthest thing from okay as she shuddered and cried, but Kling's embrace did feel nice, and her soothing voice was at least some reassurance that Kling wasn't furious with her. When the time was up by Meghan's watch, she gave Crystal her water bottle to rinse out, spitting the suds out in the nearby sink.   

"Okay, kiddo. That's part one taken care of, brave girl." She reached into her bag and pulled out her walnut hairbrush, putting it down on the bench, then sat down. "Drop them and over, Dunn."   

"Are you going to...the whole time...with that?" Crystal eyed the fearsome brush with another shudder.   

"No, sweetheart. Just those extras you earned. It's gonna be okay, I promise," Meghan murmured. Crystal didn't want any more extras, so she obeyed unhappily, sniffling as Meghan's hand smoothed her jersey before moving to her bare bottom. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Five smacks to each cheek had Crystal squirming. Kling could spank plenty hard even without the hairbrush.   

"Alright, just about halfway there, kiddo," Meghan murmured, tipping Crystal forward a little. Crystal whimpered, tears falling faster as Meghan divided ten more spanks between her sit spots and undercurve. Then she paused, and reached for the brush.   

"Last bit, Dunn."   

"O-oh...please, Kling, do we have to?"   

"Yeah," Meghan said softly. "I'm sorry, kiddo, but you earned it, and you know that, don't you?"  

 Crystal nodded tearfully. "Y-yeah."   

"It's just three. You can take three," Kling murmured encouragingly. "Hold my hand, kiddo, it's all right." She took Crystal's hands in her free one and let Crystal hold on tight.  

Crystal squealed as Kling landed one sound spank to each bottom cheek and the third across the middle of her sit spots. It was hard, but it was over fast, and then Kling scooped Crystal back up into her lap face up, holding the kid against her chest. "Hey, there, there, sweetheart. You took your spanking so well. So well, kiddo. That's strike two taken care of. Only one left, Dunn."  

 Crystal looked up, alarmed, scrubbing at tear-filled eyes. "O-one left...oh...oh no, Kling, p-please..."   

"I know. I know, sweetheart. But you'll sit here on the bench with me for ten minutes."   

Crystal whimpered, sniffling. "B-bare?"   

"You can have your panties back up, sweetheart." Kling gently adjusted Crystal's clothing, then settled her on the bench, and Crystal's tears increased again as her full weight settled on her well spanked bottom.  

 "I know," Kling murmured, keeping an arm around Crystal, and the younger girl rested her head on Kling's shoulder as she cried. "I know, sweetheart. You're safe, I've gotcha, you're okay. I know it hurts, but it won't hurt forever." She kept up the litany of comforting words as Crystal cried her way through the ten minutes, then lifted Crystal back into her lap again.  

 "M'sorry, sorry," Crystal sobbed.   

"I know, babe. It's forgiven, little one," Meghan soothed. "You're a good girl. Your naughtiness is all gone. Shhh, it's okay. It's okay."   

Meghan settled Crystal in the ice bath with Julie, and went to let her other teammates in. They'd stayed back to give Kling and Crystal their privacy, but now HAO settled in with the two young ones, hugging them both close.   

She gave Crystal a kiss on the forehead. "It's okay now, hmm? Everything better between you and Kling?"  

 Crystal nodded meekly. "I'm sorry, Heather."   

"I know, sweetheart. I forgive you," HAO said. "It's done now."  

 After the team had soaked their pain away (and despite not playing, Crystal had her own aches to soothe), got out, dried off and dressed, HAO helped Crystal find Sermanni. The youngster had one last apology to make. Luckily, Sermanni accepted it without question. He knew the team had their ways of managing things. And Crystal was careful never to curse out a coach or ref again - at least in front of Meghan Klingenberg.  

Chapter Text

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Providence Park, Portland

Portland Thorns 5, Chicago Red Stars 0 (2021 season opener)

Alyssa Naeher stumbled blindly down the tunnel, tears stinging her eyes. She sank to the ground, wrapping her arms around herself, and pressed her back against the wall, head bowed.

"Becky!"

Becky Sauerbrunn turned at Tierna's shout, and ran toward the Chicago side. She was at Tierna's side in a moment; Tierna had seen Alyssa in the corridor and stopped to help, to no avail. Becky knelt by Tierna, gesturing her on, and put her arms around the sobbing keeper.

"Lyssa, Lyssa, honey, shhh, oh, sweetheart. I've got you. It's okay. It's okay, I promise."

"N-not okay," Alyssa whimpered, pressing herself into Becky's embrace as she sobbed on Becky's shoulder. "It's all wrong. M'bad, Becky. I ruined it, they're gonna hate me forever and I won't make the squad and--"

Becky pressed a kiss to Alyssa's hair. "No, no, honey, you aren't bad," she whispered. "Today might not have been your best game, but you made at least as many saves as you let through, and it's going to be alright. No one hates you, Lyssa, don't even think that."

"Do you hate me, Lyssa?"

The question shocked Alyssa out of her self-pity, and she looked up to see Sophia Smith standing there with Tierna. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, and shook her head.

"N-no, Soph. You're our little sister, I don't hate you."

"Even though I scored three of those five goals?" Sophia asked.

"Two," Tierna grimaced. "If Lys has got to hate anyone it should be me. An own goal..." If she hadn't accidentally got her foot on Sophia's goal before it struck home, Soph would have scored three, though.

"I don't hate either of you," Alyssa said, getting shakily to her feet and folding the two youngests in her arms. They hugged her back hard.

"And with Sinc and Lussi you know it's just business as usual," Becky said, running a hand over Alyssa's hair. "It's going to be okay, Lys."

"It isn't," Alyssa whispered. "I...I was distracted. When that own goal happened, it threw me off, and when Jules got subbed off in the thirtieth minute with her knee being so...I don't know, I just..."

Oh.

"Okay, honey, okay," Becky murmured soothingly. "Let's go check on Jules, okay, Lyss? We'll see how she's doing. It didn't look too terrible. I'm sure the med staff was just protecting her."

Alyssa nodded and followed Becky to the Chicago side.

Some of the newer Chicago players bristled at the intrusion, but Mallory Pugh ran forward and threw herself into Becky's arms, hugging her. 

"Brunn! I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too, bunny," Becky soothed her. "Is everything okay over here? How's Jules doing?"

Mal sighed. "Moe's with her," she said, and led the group of USWNT teammates into the recovery room, where Julie was soaking in an ice bath, her knee wrapped.

"Jules," Alyssa knelt by the tub as her roommate and team captain turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry we lost."

"It's only the opening match," Julie said quietly. But she knew what Alyssa meant. Every match the National Team players had with their clubs had Vlatko looking to see who he would put on the roster. "I'm sure we'll do better on Saturday."

Alyssa exhaled and nodded. "I won't let you down again, Captain."

This, she addressed to both Julie and Becky.

Becky raised an eyebrow, getting what wasn't being said. "Jules, do you want me to take care of things in here?"

"I really ought to have a co-captain," Julie muttered, and nodded. "Thanks, Beck." 

Becky Sauerbrunn left the recovery room, going to face the Red Stars.

"Clean sheet, kiddos. I'm impressed."

"Not quite," Alyssa said quietly from behind her. 

Becky turned to tuck Alyssa into her arms again. "Okay, yeah," she agreed reluctantly. "But no cards, no major fouls. Your team did pretty good, overall. Other than the score sheet, I'd say Jules has got nothing to worry about."

"Not helping, Brunn," Moe sighed. "I should have been out there. I could have scored past A.D."

"Any of you could have," Becky agreed. "Could have, should have, would have, all amounts to the same thing, and what do we say about that?" She whistled a few bars, and Tierna, who'd been looking extremely put out, blushed and smiled reluctantly.

"Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again."

"Right." Becky tucked Tierna into her other arm, giving her a squeeze. "Do you two think I need to deal with you, then, with Jules out of commission for the moment?"

"We're yours too," Alyssa said quietly. This remark soothed the grumblings of the non-National Team Red Stars, who drifted away from the three.

"You are mine too," Becky agreed. "I don't know, Ti, that own goal was pretty accidental, I'd say," she mused, raising an eyebrow at Tierna. "Soph was aiming for Lys, not your foot."

"Stupid ball still bounced off my foot before getting to Lys," Tierna grumbled. "I should've kicked it away from Lys, not let it get past her."

"Okay then, if you're sure, Tierna Lillis."

Tierna winced. "Yes ma'am." At Becky's direction, she and Alyssa changed into t-shirts and lounge pants, and when Tierna returned to Becky's side she went over Becky's lap fully clothed. 

Ti didn't think, in this case, that it was intended to mean her smacking would be overly long, just that Becky wanted her close, and she was right. The ten smacks from Becky's hand over her clothed bottom stung plenty enough for what had more or less been entirely accidental, and then Becky pulled Ti up into her lap, giving her a warm hug.

"Alright, sweetheart. Pay better attention next time, hmmm? But I think that's enough."

Tierna sniffled. "Okay, Brunn, I promise."

"Okay, Ti. Go and ice up with the others."

Tierna nodded. The other Red Stars had filtered into the other room, and she followed, leaving Becky and Alyssa alone.

"Okay, Lys, sweetheart," Becky said gently. "Let's get this dealt with and you feeling better."

Alyssa blushed. "I wish Ali..."

"I know," Becky agreed. She sat down on the bench with Alyssa at her side, and called the defender's number. Ali picked up right away - honestly, she'd been anticipating the call, and the only reason she hadn't called was because she'd been playing with Sloane.

"Hey, Beck," she said quietly. "Got Lyssa with you?"

"Yeah," Becky agreed. 

"You okay, Nittany Cub?" Ali asked gently.

Alyssa sighed. "N-no. Not really. I'm sorry I messed up, Miss Ali."

Ali didn't bother to say anything, knowing by now Alyssa had to call her that at a time like this.

"We know you're sorry, Lyssa," Becky said soothingly. "Come on now, sweetheart. Over my lap." 

Alyssa nodded and settled into position, face flushed with embarrassment. "Is it going to be like a red card?"

"Of course not," Ali sputtered, hearing this. "I can't see why it would have to be, Nittany Cub. It's okay. Has Beck even sent you for the paddle?"

"No, Miss Ali," Alyssa whispered.

"Then there won't be anything like that," Ali promised. "Becky's hand should be enough, sweetheart. What did Ti get for the own goal?"

"Ten, Miss Ali," Alyssa said.

Then the reason for the question became clear, and Alyssa twisted around, face tight with worry, to look up at Becky. "Fifty?" she whispered. "Ten each?"

"Only if they're all over your pants, sweetheart," Becky replied. "I think I could do six over shorts for each goal, or three for each on the bare."

"M-Miss Ali?" Alyssa's voice quavered.

"Hmmm," Ali murmured. "It looked to me like you took that brace from Soph...almost a hat trick, if it wasn't for Ti...the hardest, other than the own goal itself. The other two goals weren't so bad. So maybe two sets over pants, two over shorts, and the last one on the bare?" Ali suggested.

Alyssa ran the numbers in her head. Ten...twenty...twenty-six, twenty-nine... That was still almost thirty spanks, nearly three times what Ti had got, but that sounded fair, really, and nearly thirty was still a lot better than fifty. "Yes, Miss Ali," she agreed quietly. 

"That's going to be thirty-five," Becky said gently, and Alyssa ran the numbers again, swallowing. "You still think you can do it, Lys?"

"I have to," Alyssa whispered.

"It's okay, Lys, sweetheart, I have you," Becky murmured. "If it gets to be too much let me know."

Alyssa nodded and settled back into position, her face buried in her folded arms. She took the first twelve smacks from Becky's hand quietly, tears only just starting.

"Good girl, Lyssa, it's okay," Becky murmured, stroking Alyssa's hair as she moved her hand lower. Alyssa's tears fell and she whimpered as Becky's spanks fell on her sit spots and undercurve.

"O-oh..." 

"I know, I know, Nittany Cub," Ali murmured. "You're being so good for Becky."

"That's right. And you know what, sweetheart?" Becky asked gently.

"W-what?" Alyssa sniffled as Becky petted her hair.

"That was twenty, Lyssa. That means we're more than half done, you're doing so well and being so brave and good for me," Becky said encouragingly.

"O-oh...I'm trying, Becky," Alyssa whispered.

"You are, I know, and you're doing so good," Becky murmured. "Now, when you're ready, sweetheart, your pants have to come down. But not your shorts just yet," Becky promised. "It's okay, we'll go at your pace, I know how it is, Lys."

Alyssa nodded, swallowing hard, and after a few moments to calm herself, she lifted her hips so Becky could draw her lounge pants down.

"Good girl," Becky murmured when Alyssa was back in position. "So good for me. Hold on tight, Lyssa, you're getting twelve now, three to each spot, okay?"

Alyssa nodded reluctantly, holding tightly to Becky's leg as Becky delivered the next part of her spanking. She cried harder, and kicked out without meaning to. Becky cooed gently, petting Alyssa's hair when the last of the dozen smacks had fallen.

"Okay, Lyssa, I know," she murmured. "I'm here and Miss Ali's here."

"That's right, Nittany Cub," Ali said gently, not having put the phone down. "You're okay, it's really almost over now, such a brave girl for Becky, sweetheart. Miss Ali's so very proud of you, honey."

Alyssa stifled a sob, and nodded, letting Becky take down her shorts. Three more, she reminded herself. That's all. But she wasn't fooling herself - these would be worst of all, bare and after she'd already been enduring a thorough spanking.

"Okay, Nittany Cub," Ali murmured. "Brunn can make it quick. It won't take long now."

Becky nodded, and kept a hand on Alyssa's back as she landed the three smacks - one to each bottom cheek and one across the middle of Alyssa's sit spots. The keeper's tears increased, but then she was pulled up into Becky's lap and held close.

"Becky's got you, sweetheart, Lyssa, it's okay, all okay, our brave girl," Becky cooed. "All done, all forgiven, Lys, good girl, you did so well for me."

Alyssa sobbed quietly in Becky's arms for a little while, but she calmed down slowly and let Becky help her get up and re-dress. Then she was pulled back into Becky's arms again, standing with her head resting on Becky's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry Brunn, I'll be so good, I swear I won't let us down again."

"I know, I know you'll be so good, Lyssa," Becky said reassuringly. "You're a good girl, and a great keeper. Today was just a bad day, but I promise, things will be better. I'm sure Vlatko will take you to Tokyo, everything will be alright. He won't write you off just because of today."

"Us," Alyssa murmured.

"Hmmm?" Becky paused, looking at the keeper.

"He'll take you too. He can't leave his captain home," Alyssa said. Becky gave her a wry smile.

"Well, I don't think he would, but we'll see."

"He could make you captain, Lys."

Alyssa jumped and looked over at Tierna. "What?"

"If he has to leave Brunn home. He could make you captain."

Alyssa stared. "He's not doing that."

"But he could do that."

"I...what...no, he wouldn't," Alyssa shook her head. "That's silly."

Becky chuckled and shook her head, inviting Tierna back into her embrace. She hugged both Alyssa and Tierna, and Ali checked on Alyssa one more time before excusing herself from the call. When she'd hung up, and Becky released her younger teammates, Becky kissed Alyssa's cheek.

"Okay, sweetheart. I know you've got Saturday's game against Gotham coming up. But you'll be back at home, you'll have Carli, and Allie, and Midge. They'll take good care of you."

"Or they'll score past me," Alyssa muttered, thinking of Midge Purce's winning shot over the Houston Dash the day before.

"Hey." Becky's tone turned sterner, and she gave Alyssa's bottom a firm pat. Alyssa squirmed, wincing.

"Sorry..."

"Enough of the self-blame, Lys. I thought we just had this conversation. If you need Carli to give you a preemptive smacking before kickoff Saturday, I'm sure she'd do it."

Alyssa's face flushed with embarrassment. "I...maybe," she whispered.

Becky's tone gentled. "That wasn't an order, Lys. I'm not telling you to ask Carli to spank you. But if you think you need it, she won't say no. All I'm asking you to do is remember your focus, and not to wallow in self-blame and self-pity. I know you can do that, sweetheart."

"Okay," Alyssa agreed quietly. "And...the other thing...I'll think about it."

Becky nodded. "Good girl. That's all I'm asking."

"Brunn?" Tierna ventured.

"Hmmm?" Becky turned and gave Ti another hug. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah, I, just...isn't Portland missing you? You probably have a party or something?" Tierna asked.

Becky shook her head. "It's fine, sweetheart. I'd much rather be with you right now. Besides, Linds isn't my problem today, she's Sinc's."

Tierna winced, remembering Lindsey had been carded. "Oh. Right. Um, about that."

Becky took a step back at Tierna's tone. "About that, what?"

"Um. While you were discussing with Lys, Mal might have kind of left."

Becky spun around and ran down the tunnel, Tierna and Alyssa at her heels.

She charged into the Thorns' locker room, coming upon a scene that was so ridiculous it was funny.

Mallory Diane Pugh, squaring off against the five inches taller Portland and Canadian captain, Christine Sinclair, who looked distinctly unimpressed.

Lindsey, who at 5'9" was Sinc's equal in height, looked bemused to have her Meep Twin standing between her and the Thorns captain, Mal's chest heaving with fury.

"No, Sinc, you can't!"

"Kiddo, really, that's enough," Kling told Mal. "You shouldn't push Sinc around."

"You can't smack my Linds," Mal said again, crossing her arms and glaring.

"Mallory," Alyssa spoke up warningly, and Mal jumped, turning around.

"Lys! She's going to smack Linds and she can't."

"Why not?" Alyssa asked calmly. "Linds was naughty, Mallory. Weren't you, Lindsey?"

Lindsey nodded reluctantly. "Yellow card," she muttered.

"It's still unfair," Mal retorted. 

"What do you want from me, little one?" Sinc asked, raising an eyebrow at Mal. "I'm not going to not give Lindsey her smacking. Are you offering to take half of it for her?"

Alyssa sputtered incoherently and gave Becky an is she serious look as Mal paused, looked thoughtfully at Sinc, and nodded.

"You haven't been beaten enough?" Sinc snarked, and Mal launched herself forward, jumping on Sinc with a shriek of rage. She tried to pummel the older girl with her fists, but Christine held her off easily.

"Mallory Diane Pugh, knock it off."

The voice ringing through the Thorns locker room echoed sharply enough to actually cut Mal off, shocking the younger forward into letting go of Sinclair and sliding to her knees in front of the Canadian.

It was also, Alyssa realized belatedly, her own voice. She tried not to panic as the Thorns turned to look at her. Swallowing hard, she thought quickly, what would Becky do? and stood taller, feeling Becky's hand on her arm squeezing gently in approval.

"Come here, Mallory." 

Gulping, Mal trotted over to Alyssa, who folded her arms, looking down at Chicago's newest forward. 

"What was that for?" Alyssa demanded.

"I don't want Linds in trouble," Mal sniffled.

"Unless you're in trouble right along with her?" Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Just because you're twins doesn't mean you have to be in trouble together. Trust me, I know."

"I can't back out now," Mal sighed, hanging her head. "But it's Linds. I had to. And besides, Sinc said..."

"I heard what Sinc said," Becky interjected, raising an eyebrow at Christine Sinclair. What had been mildly amusing to her was patently not to a likely teetering on the edge of littlespace Mallory.

"I'm sorry, Mallory. I meant it as a joke, but it wasn't in good taste," Christine admitted. 

"You can be sorry by not smacking Linds," Mal suggested.

Christine snorted. "Only if you want Brunn to do it."

Mal gave the Canadian a wary look. "Guess so."

Lindsey turned to look at Brunn. "You're joking."

"Sinc's not," Brunn said dryly. "Come on, you two."

She beckoned both Meep Twins, and as they followed her unhappily, Alyssa groaned and covered her face. "As though Brunn hasn't had to do that enough today already."

Christine shook her head. "She wasn't displeased with you, was she? You saved at least as many goals as you allowed, probably more."

"I was displeased with me. I shouldn't have allowed any," Alyssa grumbled, shoulders slumping.

Sinc raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, I'm going to give Sheridan a call and ask her to drop a word in Lloyd's ear, I think," she said.

Alyssa gulped. "You wouldn't."

"if you're still acting like this on Saturday? Sheridan deserves to go up against a keeper worth her national pride, not a petulant child," Sinclair retorted. 

Alyssa paled.

When Becky returned with the subdued Meep Twins, it was to find Alyssa had disappeared.

"Where's Lyssa?" Becky demanded.

Christine grimaced. "I threatened to have Sheridan tell Lloyd if she didn't stop acting like a child. She heard you coming and took off."

Becky glared at Sinc. "If," she said succinctly, "I didn't have a keeper to find you and I would be having a very thorough discussion, Christine Margaret Sinclair."

She strode off into the tunnel, Meep Twins at her back. The USWNT teammates from both sides weren't long in following her.

Finally, they located Alyssa on the pitch, sitting in the goal with her face buried in her knees. 

Alyssa jumped to her feet as she heard a familiar sound, though, and punched the ball flying back out of the goal.

More balls came flying at her; heart pumping, breathing hard, Alyssa spun and dove, caught and kicked, threw and headbutted every ball she heard coming.

Some of the balls, it had to be admitted, missed the net entirely or bounced off the goalposts or the crossbar. But every one that made it into Alyssa's personal space was met by a flurry of furious keeper.

When the balls stopped flying, Alyssa could finally see where they had come from. National teammates lined up on the pitch, each having brought their practice balls from their sports bags.

Sophia Smith was one of them.

As Alyssa, eyes wide, faced her youngest teammate, Sophia ran to the keeper's arms.

"You did it, Lys, see, you can do it!"

Alyssa hugged Sophia hard. "Thank you, Soph," she whispered. "Thank you for that."

"Course," Sophia whispered back, returning the hug. "I knew you could do it. We all know that. You're the best keeper."

"Traitor," AD snorted from behind Sophia, though she gave Alyssa a grin and a wink.

Alyssa managed a smile. Maybe it really would be alright after all.

Until the roster for Tokyo was finalized, she'd worry - but maybe not quite so much.

Chapter Text

(April 1, 2023, Racing Louisville vs. Washington Spirit 2-2)

When the final whistle blew on Racing Louisville and the visiting Washington Spirit's 2-2 draw, one of the Spirit's number was already waiting inside the lockers, alone.

She'd had no more than a few minutes to be alone, to process - everything had started going wrong with her first yellow card, about ten minutes ago, but then - 

Well, that tackle might have come off all right at any other time, Paige Metayer thought. It hadn't been terrible, and it really hadn't been intentional, either. It was yellow card worthy, at best.

Which would have been all right - if she hadn't already been on one.

So there, in the last couple minutes of additional time, she'd been sent off the field under the stares of all her teammates and their opponents. Most of them seasoned professionals.

It wasn't many, she figured, who could say they had been red carded in their debut. She wondered what would happen now. Aubrey Kingsbury, the Spirit's goalkeeper, was their captain this season, and Paige was already in awe of the older girl, who always seemed to know what to say and do. She only wanted Aubrey to think well of her, and now...

Her teammates filtered in, not looking at her, going about their own business for the most part. Paige didn't know if the lack of attention was better or worse than being looked at. She scooted back on the bench, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging her legs close.

"Hey."

Paige had been rocking back and forth slightly, but she froze at the evidence that someone was paying attention to her. 

"Metayer. Paige. Hey, look at me." 

Paige lifted her head, finding herself staring into the concerned gaze of Ashley Hatch.

The Ashley Hatch. The star forward who'd scored them both their goals today, who played on the National Team even more than Aubrey had, who--

"Are you okay, kiddo?"

Paige swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"S-sorry..." she whimpered, and Ashley rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades gently.

"Hey," she crooned softly. "It's going to be all alright soon little one, no one's going to yell at you or be mad. Yeah, you got carded, so you're in trouble, but you're not off the team, you're not a bad girl, easy, Paige, breathe for me."

Paige sniffled, trembling. "H-how much trouble?" she whispered, and Ashley put a comforting arm around her shoulders, squeezing the young midfielder supportively.

"Come on, little one, I'll show you. It's gonna be okay, you're safe, I promise whatever you're imagining it can't be that bad. Kingsbury doesn't bite, even if the paddle does."

Paige's eyes widened.

"The what?" she squeaked.

Ashley bit back a grin.

"Oh, I've said too much. Come on, let me show you before your imagination works overtime, little one."

It was too late for that. Paige got up, legs unsteady, and would have bolted if Hatch's fellow forward, Trinity Rodman, hadn't been there to stop her.

"Hey now, what's this?" Trinity said, slinging a friendly arm around the rookie. "Worried about Kingsbury and red cards?"

"Hatch said th-there's a paddle," Paige stammered.

"Probably nothing like what you're imagining," Trinity soothed her. "It's not fun, I know, but it's not going to kill you. Come on, show some Spirit." She chuckled at her own joke. 

Paige nodded uncertainly, letting Trinity and Ashley lead her into the room with the ice baths, where the Spirit paddle was hanging up. Ashley took the implement down from its place and held it out for Paige to see better.

 It was smaller than Paige had been imagining - about the size and thickness of a ping pong paddle, and round. The wooden implement had the Washington Spirit logo painted on one side, varnished smooth, and etched into the other, slightly indented.

She swallowed nervously at the sight of that. "Kingsbury's going to...."

"Usually the rule is, red card, red bottom to match," Ashley said casually, making Paige's stomach twist with anxiety.

"This isn't some kind of April Fools' joke is it?"

Trinity shook her head. 

"No, it's real," she said with a hum of sympathy. "Not the introduction you wanted on your debut, I know. No one wanted that for you."

"That's right."

The new voice made Paige spin around, and she looked right into the concerned eyes of Aubrey Kingsbury.

"C-Captain, I..."

"Shhh," Aubrey hushed her gently. "I know. I know, it was an accident. Here." She opened her arms invitingly to the younger girl, who accepted the welcoming embrace. "There, there now, that's right. You're safe, little one. I know it was an accident. I believe you. Unfortunately, accident or not, it was still carded misbehavior and I can't ignore it." She hummed sympathetically, patting Paige's back. "Ashley and Trinity have been telling you how it goes?"

"Yes but Captain, I don't want to be s-sp..." She choked on the word, "with that."

"Oh, honey. Breathe for me," Aubrey cooed gently, and Paige did her best to obey.

"It's not going to feel good, we know, because we've all been there," Aubrey continued, making Paige blink in surprise. "But it's going to be safe, you're going to be safe. It'll hurt, but you won't be damaged. I promise. If it's too much and you need me to stop, I will." 

Paige sniffled and nodded. 

"Have you never been spanked before, Paige? Is that what's worrying you?" Aubrey prompted, and Paige blushed vibrantly. 

"N-not like that, Captain."

Aubrey nodded. “I think maybe we should talk privately about it, you and me, unless you’d like Trinity or Ashley to stay with us?” she suggested.

Slowly, Paige gave a nod. “I can talk about it with just us,” she agreed quietly, following Aubrey back into the now-empty locker room and sitting down on the bench. The other girls were back in the ice baths they’d just left, or else preparing to head out. No reason to stay after and party, with a tie.

Aubrey drew the younger woman down to sit next to her, placing a hand on her knee. “When you say ‘not like that’, I guess you mean not with a paddle like this?” she inquired.

Paige nodded. “Just…um…just with a hand, or the hairbrush. And not a lot,” she added, swallowing. “They said a red card means…a red bottom.”

“Usually, but honey, that’s more for experienced players who are expected to know what they’re doing - it’d be more for a straight red than two yellows, especially the way yours went. I’m sure Trin and Ash were warning you honestly, but maybe trying to wind you up a bit too,” Aubrey conceded. “It is April Fools’ Day after all, and maybe they thought you’d been a bit foolish.”

“Guess I was, Captain, ma’am,” Paige admitted. Aubrey gave her arm a reassuring pat.

“That’s a start. Do you think you can bend over my thigh, up on the bench, or would my lap work better for you?”

Paige closed her eyes. “Second one.”

“Good girl, thank you for telling me,” Aubrey said encouragingly. She guided Paige into position, placing a restraining hand between Paige’s shoulder blades and pressing gently. “You won’t normally be told, but since it’s your first time,” she said, “it’s only going to be sixteen, and just the last six with the paddle, I think. Okay?”

Swallowing, Paige nodded. “Okay, Captain.” She lay as still as she could, as Aubrey patted Paige’s bottom gently to gauge her aim, then let the first smack fall. “Oh!”

Aubrey’s other hand pressed more firmly on Paige’s shoulders, and she continued to land the punishing swats - sharp enough to sting, with her goalkeeper’s hand. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The last four had covered Paige’s sit spots, and she whined, squirming and sniffling.

Aubrey paused. “You’re doing well, Paige, we’re almost done,” she promised. At this, Paige swallowed hard, and nodded.

“Yes Captain,” she sniffled.

The first smack of the paddle fell then, harder than those from Aubrey’s hand but no more forceful. It drew a louder yelp from Paige’s lips. Five more swats followed, and then Aubrey pulled the tearful girl up into her arms, rubbing her back.

“O-oh…ow…sorry, I’m so sorry Captain, I’ll be good forever I swear…”

“Shhh,” Aubrey soothed Paige gently. “You are good, a very good girl, it’s all alright Paige, honey, you did so good for me. You’ll sit out next match, but it’s all gone otherwise, no more to worry about, so you just rest up and focus on getting better, hmmm?”

Tearfully, Paige nodded, catching her breath. “Yes Captain, I will. I’m really sorry.”

“No more sorries honey, it’s okay,” Aubrey promised. “All finished and forgiven. Are you feeling alright, Paige?”

Paige shifted on Aubrey’s lap experimentally, wincing, and nodded. “Uh huh - I mean, yes Captain,” she amended quickly, getting an amused smile from Aubrey. “Sore, but I’m okay,” she ventured. “I’ve had worse before, only I thought…”

Aubrey nodded. “There won’t be any worse, honey, not unless it’s a real red, a straight red, and even then you’ll be comforted after and it’ll be alright again. The team’s a family, we protect our own.” She stroked Paige’s hair gently, rocking the girl. “That means you have a lot of big sisters to look after you now. But if any of them does something that makes you uncomfortable - including me - you can tell me,” Aubrey promised.

“I didn’t like it, Captain, but…but I knew I wouldn’t, and I know I’m safe now,” Paige ventured.

“That’s right. You’re safe, Paige, little one,” Aubrey murmured. “Our brave girl.”

Together, they joined the rest of the team in the ice baths.

Chapter Text

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

"Mmm." Julie Ertz stretched languidly, almost purring as she nestled into her husband's strong arms. He was holding her in bed, comforting her as Madden slept soundly nearby, and --

Julie jerked awake. She wasn't with her husband. Zach had Madden, true, but while he and Madden would join them for game day, and to celebrate Julie's 100th cap belatedly, her little family didn't stay with her in camp.

She sat up hurriedly, scooting back in bed to stare at Casey Kreuger. Her former Chicago teammate laughed.

"Having a good dream, Jules?"

"Uh huh." Julie nodded, sighing as reality set in. "Zach's not here."

"Good thing he isn't, or you'd be taking this from him, and then you'd be too distracted for practice," Casey smirked.

"What?" Julie looked warily at Casey.

Casey rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. "What's the date today, Jules?"

"It's Holy Thursday."

"...Besides that. We have our opening match on Saturday, which means?"

"April..." Julie counted the days back, and then blushed. "Oh. It's April sixth, isn't it." 

"Which is..." Casey raised her eyebrows. "I know you haven't suddenly forgotten how to count."

Julie's cheeks flamed. "Oh. Right." She gave Casey a sideways look. "Don't you think I'm a little old for this, now we're both married and mothers in our own right?"

Casey snorted. "Are you too old for it, Julie Beth Ertz? What would Aly Wagner say?"

Julie squirmed. "Well, I thought we were."

"Why don't we ask her?"

Julie's mouth fell open slightly. "Case, you can't be serious."

But Casey was already pulling Aly up on video call. The former Santa Clara Broncos looked at each other - former coach and protegee, Wagner and Ertz, sizing each other up.

Aly regarded Julie with a knowing look. "Good morning, JJ."

"Is it a good morning, Aly?" Julie asked. "Casey's been threatening me."

Aly chuckled. "I expect she has. If you're going to be petulant about it, my little Bronco, I could suggest she gives you a real lesson, not just a birthday spanking."

Julie's cheeks flushed again. "Aly!"

"You'll always be my little Bronco, JJ, especially when you're being called on misbehaving. And sassing Casey is misbehaving, isn't it?" Aly prompted.

Sighing, Julie nodded. "Yes ma'am," she agreed reluctantly.

"How many is it this year?" Aly asked mildly.

"You know how old I am, Aly."

"Julie Beth Johnston." The tone stopped Julie cold. "You don't start with me, little Bronco. I think you've been away from the team too long; you've forgotten how we do things."

Julie winced. "Sorry, ma'am."

"That's better." Aly softened. "Answer me properly, JJ. I won't ask again."
"Thirty-one, ma'am," Julie said quietly. It had been a little over ten years since the last time Aly had seriously disciplined her. She didn't want to give Aly reason to repeat herself, and one of Aly's maxims had been 'you'll be too big to be spanked when you stop deserving it'. 

It looked like Aly hadn't forgotten that. 

"Thirty-one and one to grow on, then," Aly said decisively. "Any questions, little one?"

"No ma'am," Julie sighed. "I'll behave for Casey."

"That's my good little Bronco," Aly murmured. "Behave, JJ. Casey will let me know how it went."

Yes, Julie just bet she would.

Much to Julie's relief, Casey ended the call. "Come here, JJ," she prompted, and Julie answered to her old nickname automatically, letting her former Chicago captain guide her into position. She was still dressed in her pajamas, a light blue top and long pants, and much to her relief Casey didn't see the point in divesting her of any of it. Julie lay still over Casey's lap, taking in the knowledge that two layers of thin cotton were the only barrier between Casey's hand and her vulnerable bottom, when --

"Ow!" The unexpected sharp smack made Julie push up on her hands, twisting her head around. That had not been Casey's hand, that much was sure. "Casey!"

"That was one, JJ," Casey said calmly, lifting the wooden spoon she had in her hand where Julie could see it. Smaller and lighter than the team paddle, it nevertheless packed an unexpected sting that had Julie squirming.
Whining softly, Julie settled back into position. The smack hadn't really been very hard, she supposed, but it hadn't been what she expected, and - she lost the ability to think as another swat like the first landed, and another. They peppered Julie's bottom randomly, so that she was never sure how to squirm out of reach of the next one. Nor should she, Julie realized, as she had promised to behave for Casey. But it was a birthday spanking, it wasn't meant to sting like that.

Except, of course, when she'd been naughty. Which she had. Julie groaned.

She'd lost track of how many swats she'd received, when she felt Casey's other hand brushing softly across her back. "Easy, easy Jules," Casey cooed, "breathe easy for me now, it's alright, almost done, my brave JJ. Can you hold on just a bit longer? That was twenty," she clarified for Julie, as the blonde caught her breath.

Tearfully, Julie sniffled and nodded. "I...I can be brave."

"I know you can," Casey agreed, squeezing Julie's hands in her own, the one not wielding the spoon. "Deep breath for me now. It's almost over." She resumed the spanking, swatting more slowly and gently now. The final dozen focused on Julie's sit spots, and all but the last two were no more than love taps. The last two stung, but only for a few moments.

Then Julie was pulled carefully into Casey's arms, being rocked gently. "It's alright Jules, JJ, little one, you're okay honey, all done," Casey promised. "No more now."

Sniffling, Julie snuggled into her friend's embrace. "Sorry I was rude, Auntie Casey," she said meekly, and the title, coupled with the timbre of Julie's voice let Casey know what she was dealing with. Sometimes a few of the team went briefly into a younger headspace, and Julie was one such, though not usually a very little girl. She sounded about ten, to Casey's practiced ear, and Casey patted her back gently.

"It's alright JJ, you're forgiven. You took your smacks like Auntie's good, brave girl, and it's all done now."

She hugged Julie close. "When you're calmer, why don't we hunt down your other Aunties for cake and presents?"

Julie nodded, wide eyed. "I can still have them?"

"Of course, little love. It's your birthday after all." She pressed a kiss to Julie's forehead.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Chapter Text

April 8, 2023
USWNT vs. Ireland, Austin, TX

40th minute

Mal was down.

Lindsey couldn't think about anything else, not even the goal that had buoyed the United States past Ireland for a 1-0 lead a few minutes earlier. 

She rushed to Mal's side, finding Rose right beside her, and they knelt on the field, holding Mal as close as they could. The medics were coming, but not fast enough for Lindsey's tastes. Or Mal's either, quite obviously.

"Linds," Mal sobbed, and Lindsey ran her fingers over her best friend's cheek, doing her best to soothe Mal. Alex was practically hovering over them as the med staff worked, for what could have been five minutes but felt like five hours. Finally Mal was stretchered off, and Lindsey made to follow.

"Hey." Alex caught Lindsey's hand before she could get far.

"But Auntie Alex," Lindsey whimpered, too softly for anyone but Alex to hear.

"I know," Alex sighed, as Trinity Rodman came on. "But Mal is in the best possible hands. Let's win this for her. You hear the fans chanting her name?"

And they were, they had been, Lindsey realized. Chanting "Mallory Swanson" and clapping in rhythm. All the US fans in the packed Austin stadium, and maybe a few Irish ones, too. 

Speaking of Irish...

Lindsey spun to look at Denise O'Sullivan, whose face was stricken. The Irish girl - with many friends and even teammates among the USWNT - knew how much they loved Mal. She did, too - it was practically impossible not to. 

"I'll handle it later," Denise mouthed, and Lindsey nodded reluctantly as the half ended.

The second half passed in a blur for Lindsey. She barely noticed Julie Ertz' entrance, much less her yellow card a few minutes later for fouling Katie McCabe. Lindsey was snapped back to reality ten minutes before the match's end, when she was told to take the penalty kick that had been awarded to the US.

"All...all right," she agreed, exhaling. This is for you, Mal, she thought, and connected with the ball, focused only on getting it in the net.

Goal.

2-0. 

The American fans erupted, and Lindsey felt a wash of relief. At least she could make Mal proud. Mal had scored in every game so far after all. She should have had the chance to score in this one.

But we're twins, she thought. Meep Twins. We do it for each other.

So Mal's streak isn't really broken. Even if Mal is. Which she had better not be.

When the final whistle sounded on a 2-0 victory for the USWNT, Lindsey headed down the tunnel with the rest of the players. But instead of going into her own locker room, she slid in behind Denise O'Sullivan, not noticing Emily Fox right behind her.

The two USWNT goalscorers found themselves surrounded by a sea of green.

"Lost, are you?" Captain Louise Quinn demanded. "Or come to gloat?"

Emily ignored the question, turning to Denise instead. "Where is she?"

Her North Carolina Courage teammate and captain nodded, pointing unerringly. "Mannion. Come here." She snapped her fingers, giving Aoife a stern look.

The younger woman frowned. "Why should I? You're not my captain."

"No, but I am Emily's, and she's come looking for my help," Denise retorted. "I promised them I'd handle this. So come here, Aoife. Right now." 

"I won't in front of them."

Denise fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I suppose she has the right to ask for that much, Foxy," she said apologetically. "This is a matter of team discipline, even though she hurt one of yours. You have my word, I won't let her get away with it. Best wishes for Mal, of course."

"If she's killed Mal, I'm gonna kill her," Lindsey put in.

"Oh please," Aoife snorted. "Toughen up. She's going to be fine."

"I would shut it if I were you, little girl," Denise said warningly. "Foxy, Linds, I know you want your pound of flesh, as it were, and I can't say I blame you, but I assure you she's gonna get it. That's all I can do for you. Bring it in, alright?" She gave them both a quick hug, and Lindsey a kiss on the forehead. "Go on back to your side and Lindsey, I'd call Carli if I were you."

Tearfully, Lindsey nodded. "I will."

"Good girl. Take her, Foxy."

Sighing, Emily nodded and hustled Lindsey out. A little Lindsey in revenge mode wasn't what the Ireland girls needed right now. Though at least she knew Denise couldn't blame her.

"Come on Linds, sweetheart, let's get you back on our side and call Mummy Carli. You'll feel ever so much better." 

Lindsey pouted. "But I wanna see Sully kill that girl."

Emily snorted. "No you don't. You're mad about what she did to Mal, we all are, but you're our sweet Linds and you wouldn't want to kill anyone. Take a breath, Mal's gonna come out of this okay and so are you."

Reluctantly, Lindsey nodded. "Kay, Foxy."

"Good girl."

Emily dialed Carli's number, keeping Lindsey sandwiched between herself and Alex.

She hoped they found out what was wrong with Mal sooner rather than later, because Lindsey wouldn't be satisfied until they knew. And all three of them hoped desperately that whatever was wrong with their Mal, it was only a minor setback.

The World Cup, after all, was coming soon. 

Chapter Text

April 11, 2023 USWNT vs. Ireland WNT

St. Louis, Missouri, 28th minute

"Linds."

Lindsey Horan looked up, straightening as Brunn walked over to her. The whistle had just been sounded for a substitution - a planned substitution, she knew Becky's minutes had to be monitored since Portland would need her again soon.

"Brunn?" She blinked as Becky eased the armband off, though if she'd thought about it she'd have understood what Becky approaching her at all meant. She accepted the armband - the responsibility - feeling half-numb, mind still spinning from the horror of three days past.

Mal's had surgery, it went fine, she's fine, Lindsey told herself, then snapped back to reality as Brunn squeezed her shoulder.

"You can do it," Brunn prompted, and Lindsey slid the armband on, feeling her focus sharpening.

"Yes ma'am."

"Bring it home, Captain." Brunn smiled and jogged off the field, waving to her hometown crowd, the air of jubilation swelling as the people of St. Louis celebrated Becky Sauerbrunn. She hadn't been on the pitch long, no, hadn't yet won that goal so many in the soccer world coveted for her, but she had played at home with her family watching, and that, for now, was enough.

Now Lindsey had to propel the team to a win.

Tierna Davidson, Becky's replacement, ran onto the field, and Lindsey felt her senses heighten. She scanned the field, searching out her teammates - especially Alyssa Thompson, their little AT. As the announcers made clear, Alyssa's start in this match marked the widest gap in age between two starters for some time - Alyssa and Becky were almost nineteen years apart. But AT displayed an incredible level of experience and maturity on the field for an eighteen year old.

It would be off the field where she could let that tension out. Hopefully she wouldn't have much to worry about, Lindsey thought. Not baby AT. Let Lindsey do the worrying for now.

At first, there wasn't much for Lindsey to worry about. The first half was going pretty well, even if nothing had been scored yet - at least it was still nil-nil, there in the 42nd minute. But then she spotted AT being shoved down in the far corner of the pitch by one of the Irish players, rolling Alyssa over and off the sideline.

Luckily, Alyssa got back up right away, looking a little startled but none the worse for wear. Still, Lindsey couldn't help her heart pounding in her chest at the close call.
There was no card, but a corner kick was conceded to the US, and Sophia Smith stepped up to take it. She kicked the ball unerringly to Ashley Sanchez, who - seeming to make a split second decision, sent it to Alana Cook.

Alana, riding the high of her 26th birthday, decided to take a daring chance. She didn't bother going for Alyssa or Sophia, and ignored the line of Irish players between her and the net, halfway down the pitch. She kicked the ball hard, and it sailed over the heads of the stunned Irish girls and past the keeper - directly into the goal.

Mobbed by Kelley O'Hara, Sofia Huerta, and Ashley Sanchez, Alana accepted congratulatory hugs. It was her birthday, she'd put the team on the scoreboard, and she'd scored her first international goal. If she'd hoped for that today, she hadn't quite planned it - but now she was definitely the heroine of the hour, if not the match, there in the 43rd minute.

Halftime meant a well deserved break, and Alyssa went to the sidelines, where Alex was waiting for her with a bottle of water and an embrace. "You're doing well, mijita," she praised Alyssa, as AT snuggled into her arms. "So well."

"But I haven't scored, Tia Alex," AT whispered. "I'm supposed to score really good goals. Alana scored a good goal."

"And it's her birthday, so we're extra glad she did that, mijita," Alex replied, giving her a reassuring cuddle. "But we'll see about that later. You still have a whole half to score in, honey. It's going to be okay even if you don't score. As long as we work together, I'm sure we'll win. Okay?"

"Uh huh," AT agreed.

"Alex's right," Lindsey agreed, squeezing AT's shoulder gently. "You just keep your focus, kiddo, you're doing so good. Chris and Tobs are gonna be so proud of you. We all are."

AT gave her a shy smile. "Thanks Lindsey, I mean Captain."

"You're welcome."

When play resumed, Alyssa did her best to get to the ball, whenever it got near her. She tried not to land herself in too much trouble though - the Irish players could be dangerous, she'd already seen that, and the last thing she wanted was to end up like Mal.

In fact, in the fifty-sixth minute, Ruesha Littlejohn was yellow carded for grabbing Casey Kreuger by the arm and yanking on her, hard - something that made Alyssa shudder. Casey was older and stronger than her and she was sure if Ruesha had done the same to her, she would have been snapped like a twig. She felt herself shrinking inside, and fought to maintain control.

A few moments later, Ireland made a double substitution - one of the players subbed off was Ruesha, much to Alyssa's relief. She wouldn't have to tangle with the older girl.

A few feet away, Lindsey Horan was down.

The med staff went to see to her, and Alyssa pivoted anxiously, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Lindsey was looked over. She didn't seem too badly off - she could walk off by herself at least - but it wasn't clear what had happened. It was clear Vlatko wouldn't be taking any chances. He used his last substitution, nearing the hour mark, to take Lindsey off and replace her with Kristie Mewis.

As Lindsey walked off, she stopped to deliver the Captain's armband to Julie Ertz. Julie had come on at the beginning of the second half, and while she hadn't scored herself, she'd been making bold moves, not afraid to show the Irish she was no slouch. She was back and better than ever, as the commentary was suggesting.

Alyssa turned to watch Lindsey off the pitch, then focused on Julie and Kristie as play got going again.

She wasn't slow in recovering the ball when it came at her, though she didn't quite get a look in the goal until the sixty-fourth minute - AT got in the box, ready to take her shot, but Brosnan came out of the goal, colliding with Alyssa and taking her down.

Ow. Being struck by furious keeper was never fun, Alyssa thought as she picked herself back up again, but she wasn't bleeding or broken, at least not obviously, and she had a job to do.

She ran back into the middle of the field - the ball wasn't near now, but she was doing her best to find it.

At least, for the most part, her USWNT teammates were keeping hold of it. When they lost the ball to Ireland, chants of "U-S-A" from the crowd kept their spirits up until they could get it back.

In the sixty-ninth minute, Julie Ertz took a long-range shot on goal, but it went wide, sailing into the crowd. Alyssa sputtered, looking at the Captain, who shrugged and laughed. Why not give it a try, AT guessed Julie was thinking. She supposed that was fair - it would have been amazing if it had gone in.

They continued to battle back and forth for the ball - in the eightieth minute, AT had it, racing for the goal, and she decided at the last minute to try and cross it to Ashley Sanchez, who was closer. It didn't quite get in, though, and AT continued to fight for control. She wanted to be good. She had to be good. But she kept making moves that ended up bad. What if she was too bad for Vlatko to consider?

Perhaps the tension was getting to her, as they entered the last few minutes of regular time, she thought dizzily. It was the eighty-seventh minute now, and AT found herself on the ground, pushing herself up on hands and knees.

Kristie Mewis and Ashley Sanchez were first to Alyssa's side, hoping this was very much not a repeat of Mal.

"Gotta get up," Alyssa whimpered, but she didn't feel ready. "I need to be good, Kristie."

"Shhh, honey," Kristie crooned softly, "move your leg for me, we're gonna make sure you're okay before you get up. I saw you grab your calf, is that where it hurts?" She checked over the affected leg gently, soothing Alyssa until the med staff took over. The team took the opportunity for a hydration break, and AT, too, was given small sips of water.

In the ninetieth minute, AT walked off the field between two of the med staff. She was hurting, and annoyed with herself, and just felt horrible, generally, because she wasn't able to help. She'd let all three of her captains down, she thought miserably. And Mama Tobin and Mama Christen.

Plus, Vlatko couldn't sub anyone. They had ten players now, because of her. She went through the stretches the medics were making her do, feeling like this was all her fault.

Then six minutes of stoppage time were announced.

"Hey."

AT looked up to find Alyssa Naeher looking at her with concern. Big Alyssa, as AT thought of her, wasn't in goal today - that role was being filled by Casey Murphy - but she'd been casting the teen looks of concern ever since the girl went down. "Hi," AT supplied meekly.

Alyssa squeezed AT's shoulder gently. "Good girl, doing your stretches," she said encouragingly. "I know they don't feel good, but you'll feel so much better in a minute, I can tell."

AT nodded slowly. "But Lyssa, what if we lose 'cause 'm bad?" she whispered, and the keeper wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shaking her head.

"No, no, sweetheart. You don't let that get to you, okay, AT? We won't lose, you're not a bad girl. You're a very good girl, and you took a tumble is all. How's your leg feeling now, hmm?"

AT tried it experimentally. "Better?" she offered.

"Can you play another few minutes?" Alyssa prompted. "And not worry about being bad or good, just finish the game? I'll be right here on the side, cheering for you."

Uncertainly, AT nodded.

She jogged carefully back onto the pitch, still limping a little, and both Alyssa Naeher and Julie Ertz were keeping covert eyes on her now, from different angles. They weren't the only ones. AT's condition wasn't enough of a distraction to keep their minds off the game, but the USWNT all worried for their youngest.

In the final seconds of the match, Megan Connolly fouled Trinity Rodman, earning herself a yellow card. Ashley Sanchez tried to connect the penalty kick with Ashley Hatch, but it was headed out of play.

Not that it mattered. The final whistle blew on a 1-0 victory for the US, and, exhausted there in St. Louis, the teams headed back down the tunnel.

Alyssa Naeher scooped AT up, cradling the tired teen so she didn't have to strain herself anymore. "Let's get you to the ice baths, kiddo," she soothed AT, who nodded sleepily against 'big Alyssa's' shoulder. The keeper helped AT get ready and settled her in the ice bath next to Lindsey.

"S-sorry, Cap," AT whispered, and Lindsey pulled her close.

"No, kiddo. You're okay," she soothed. "It's all okay, you did so good," she emphasized. "Your first start, you played practically the whole ninety minutes. It's okay that you didn't score today," she promised, "and it's okay that you cramped up. It was a big day for you, and you did so good. We're so proud of you."

"That's right," Becky agreed, kneeling by the tub and taking AT's hand. "You're going to be alright, little one. Just relax, breathe easy, we've got you. Soon you'll be able to go back to the hotel and get some sleep, but for now, just relax."

AT nodded slowly. It would be okay, she thought, because Brunn and Linds said it would be, and they were captains so they knew a whole lot, almost as much as Mama Tobin and Mama Christen. "I want my mamas, please," she said quietly to Brunn, who nodded.

"They're here. We'll get them," she promised, signaling to Julie, who slipped off to find Christen, Tobin, and Abby Wambach as well.

By the time they were past security (as though security shouldn't know who they were, Abby thought with an eyeroll) and into the lockers, AT was out of the bath, dry and dressed in loose, comfortable clothes. Tobin shot across the room to gather the teen in her arms and hug her close, Christen half a step behind her.

"Little love, precious, it's alright, Mama Tobin's here, and Mama Christen too," Tobin murmured, sitting on the bench with Alyssa in her lap.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Abby rolled her eyes, sitting beside Tobin on the other side from Christen, and patting AT's back. "Grandmere's here too, ma petite-fille," she crooned softly. "Our good little girl, you did so well tonight."

"Thank you, Grandmere." AT curled into the older women's embrace, letting them hold her protectively. She was just so tired. 

"Come on then, bebe. Let's get you up to bed." Abby scooped Alyssa into her arms, carrying the teen easily enough. Tobin and Christen gathered Alyssa's go bag, and together the four of them headed back to the hotel in Abby's rental car.

It didn't take them long to have Alyssa tucked into bed, snuggled up with her plush reindeer. Ninety minutes of an international match was a lot, especially against Ireland - none of them were surprised Alyssa was worn out.

They'd just all have to keep an eye on her.

Chapter Text

(OL Reign 5, Chicago Red Stars 2, Lumen Field, Seattle, post-match)

“Hey…Cap, can I have a word?”

Alyssa looked up and locked eyes with Nikki Stanton. Her former teammate had changed her OL Reign uniform for a Chicago Red Stars jersey and loosely tied lounge pants.

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Nikki?”

“Just a show of support for an old friend, Lys.” Nikki smiled, though her heart wasn’t in it. She crossed the room to Alyssa’s side, her go bag in one hand and what looked like a handmade gift bag in the other.

“What’s that?” Alyssa’s eyebrow twitched upward, and Nikki laughed self-consciously, sitting on the bench beside Alyssa.

“Oh, well, it was just your birthday, you know, so I brought you a present from our friends. There’s more waiting for you, but some of the internationals got this together. And the kid helped decorate the bag for you.”

Alyssa smiled fondly. “AT, you mean?”

Nikki nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if you saw--”

Alyssa’s gaze hardened and Nikki cringed.

“I apologized, Lys,” Nikki said quietly. “She said she’d accept my apology if I did as Christen said.”

“What did Christen say, Nikki?” Alyssa prodded, and Nikki had trouble meeting Alyssa’s eyes. “She said it’d have just been your birthday, but on the balance of things, it wouldn’t seem right for you to be the one getting the birthday spanking before having your gift.”

Alyssa snorted. “Oh, I see, and what did Pinoe and Barnes say?”

“They left it up to Ali and Christen.”

“Riley? Where was she in all this?”

“Dealing with one of her other teammates who’d torn into AT,” Nikki said. “Isenhour better be grateful Riley took care of her.”

“Oh yes, she had better,” Alyssa agreed, and Nikki grimaced, realizing that Alyssa had been trained up by Ashlyn Harris and Hope Solo, and neither of the older national goalkeepers permitted their protegees to bully others. Ashlyn Harris didn’t take that from her Pride or Gotham teammates, either.

Not that she doubted the Kiwi was capable of dealing out a memorable lesson, but - if Isenhour had Alyssa Michele Naeher to answer to, ‘big Alyssa’ who was Ashlyn’s prize pupil and Ali Krieger’s Nittany Cub - well, no one could deal out a blistering like a keeper.

Which, of course, brought her back to her own situation. “It was an accident, Lys. Mine, I mean. I won’t do it again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But Chris said a birthday spanking, and that’s what it’s going to be. Thirty-five and one to grow on. Think you can handle it?”

Slowly, Nikki nodded. “Can…can we go home first?”

Home. Alyssa’s brow creased. “Back to yours?” she inquired, and Nikki nodded. “I’m sure you’re tired, and we can meet the others for belated birthday stuff tomorrow.”

Alyssa nodded. “All right.” She was sure Nikki wasn’t asking Alyssa back to her place for - well, that, although it would be that with some of their teammates, current or former. She was pretty sure Nikki still missed her longtime Australian girlfriend, though Sam Kerr had rapidly moved on to Kristie Mewis.

The Chicago captain scooped up the gift bag Nikki had brought her, and followed the Reign player out to her car. They headed back to Nikki’s apartment together, and Nikki escorted Alyssa inside, to the living room. They’d toed off their shoes in the entry, and the soft carpet under Alyssa’s socked feet felt good.

“What do you want me to do, Cap?” Nikki asked softly.

Alyssa took a moment to think. She set the bag on the coffee table, and moved to sit in the middle of Nikki’s couch, tugging the knit blanket that was draped over the top down over her lap. It was a Chicago blanket, she noticed.

“Cold?” Nikki asked, rotating slowly in place as she waited for directions.

“No, but you might be,” Alyssa offered. “Come here, Nikki, over my lap, little one.”

Little one? Nikki would have laughed - all right, she was younger than Alyssa, but not by too much, and she was one of the ones who dealt with littles on the team - she was most definitely not a little one. She shook her head and got into position, head pillowed on her folded arms.

Alyssa ran a gentle hand over Nikki’s back, making the younger girl shiver, then patted her clothed bottom lightly.

Nikki swallowed. “God damn it, Alyssa,” she groaned into the blanket, burying her face in the thick yarn. The first spank made her yelp, and her head jerked up.

“That’s rude, little girl,” Alyssa said, and Nikki’s cheeks flushed.

“Sorry.”

“Alright, then we can get started.”

Wait, that wasn’t part of it?

Nikki squirmed as her spanking resumed, gasping with each swat. She could tell Alyssa wasn’t spanking as hard as possible - just sharply enough to sting, probably because she had apologized and it was supposed to be a birthday spanking, or not much worse than one. But fuck if the smacks weren’t doing something entirely unexpected to Nikki, too. 

She wrapped her hands in the blanket, so she could resist the urge to cover up, or…well, it was rather hard to do anything about her other problem while she was on Alyssa’s lap. She tried rubbing against Alyssa’s thigh, and got a sharper smack to her own thighs for her trouble.

“Ow!”

“I don’t think you had permission to do that, Nikki,” Alyssa said quietly, but sternly. “What you do after your spanking is over is your own business, but you’re not involving me in it without my consent, and right now we’re not finished.”

“Alyssa, please--”

“Six more.”

Nikki wasn’t sure whether Alyssa had cut the number short for her or not, but she nodded, trying to take it obediently, and holding as still as she could.

The last six swats were sharper - two to each bottom cheek, and one to each sit spot, and Nikki wanted to whine that that’s not how birthday spankings were supposed to work but she had an urgent need she had to deal with, overriding any tears she might shed.

“Are we done, Lys?” she asked, “Because I really, really need to--”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Get up and go do…whatever you need to do, just don’t involve me in it. I’m sorry I can’t help, Nikki, but I just don’t.”

Nikki nodded, scrambled up from Alyssa’s lap, and fairly flew back to her bedroom. Luckily it wasn’t far.

Alyssa lay back on the couch, throwing the blanket to one side and shaking her head. Of all the former teammates she would have to discipline, it had to be the one who got off on it, she thought.

Maybe she just didn’t know the right way to handle Nikki.

She made a mental note to ask Ash and Ali. Surely they would know.

But for now, it was late, she was in Nikki’s home and Nikki was safe, taking care of herself.

Alyssa cast a brief, interested glance at the birthday present on the table, then let herself fall asleep.

***

The next morning, Alyssa woke up to the smell of eggs and pancakes cooking. There was coffee, and that had Alyssa sitting up, stretching and looking hopefully toward the coffee maker.

“Morning, Lys,” Nikki chirped. “Breakfast, then present?”

“Sure,” Alyssa yawned, accepting a cup of coffee. “Um…about last night….”

“I’m fine,” Nikki said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

Alyssa nodded. “I guess I wasn’t expecting it, is all.” She sat down on the barstool at the counter, sipping the hot drink gratefully. “It would have been nice to get some warning from Press or Pinoe.”

“I didn’t know it was going to happen until it did,” Nikki muttered. “I don’t think being spanked turns me on generally, Lys. It just depends on…”

“On what?” Alyssa had been about to take a bite of her pancakes, but now she was worried.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was the circumstances, it might even have been that it’s you, though I’m not saying I want anything from you that you’re not interested in,” Nikki added hastily. “No pressure.”

“Thanks, I think.” Alyssa shook her head, kneading her forehead with her knuckles. “How did we get here, anyway?”

“I drove us home,” Nikki said, her customary sardonicism returning. “Eat your breakfast, Lys. Never mind everything else.”

Reluctantly, Alyssa obeyed. Maybe it was best not to think about it too hard.

Finally, the prized bag - painstakingly hand-drawn Red Stars logos covering it - was in Alyssa’s hands. She opened it, finding a LEGO Stadium inside.

The soccer set had a men’s team, naturally. But there were additional bags of minifigures tucked inside, customized by friends.

USWNT. Canada. Japan. Mexico. Ireland. England. Scotland. Even Sweden. Most of the minifigures for the non-USWNT were fairly generic except for their jerseys, but here and there the keeper could pick out one who was clearly intended to be someone she knew. Australia and New Zealand were there, too.

“Jess still owes you Wales, but she’s working on it,” Nikki said.

Alyssa snorted. “It’s going to look like I’m smuggling LEGOs on the plane.”

“Good,” Nikki snickered.

“It’s going to be a madhouse when I get them home. Do you know how much the littles like these things?” Alyssa asked.

Nikki nodded smugly. “Just an excuse to play at yours then.”

Alyssa gave Nikki one of her rare smiles. “Thank you. All of you.” She took an envelope out of the bag, the last thing in there, and found a Happy Birthday card signed by the entire San Diego Wave and of course Angel City FC.

Alyssa Thompson had signed her name at the bottom. “Happy birthday from little Alyssa and all of us to Big Alyssa, love, AT”. Christen, Tobin, and Sydney Leroux had signed as well. Even the team moms’ kids had added stickers to the envelope.

“That’s amazing,” Alyssa shook her head, awed.

“Thirty-five’s an important birthday,” Nikki smiled. “None of them wanted you to think they forgot.”

“I wouldn’t think that.” Alyssa set the LEGOs and card back down, and offered Nikki a hug, which the younger girl gratefully accepted.

It was good to be friends, even if that was all they were.

Chapter Text

Friday, September 17, 2021    

Carli Lloyd woke in her Cleveland hotel room in possession of two facts. First, she had obviously drunk too much last night, though she had eaten enough at their celebratory post-match dinner to alleviate the effects somewhat. Second, she wasn't alone in her bed. That, more than anything else, made her sit up hastily, pulling her covers around her.  

"Kris?" Carli squeaked, staring at the older woman. "What happened last night?"  

 Kristine Lilly laughed, her tone gently mocking. "What do you think happened last night, little one?"   

Carli threw a pillow at her. "We didn't--I'm married, Kris!"   

"So am I, and no we didn't," Kristine rolled her eyes. "You had too much, I tucked you into bed and stayed with you to make sure you would be alright. You do remember Foudy invited me to the team party, don't you?"   

"Oh..." Carli said slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Is she still here?"  

 "Does Brian know you ask for Foudy like that?" Kristine said teasingly, earning her another pillow to the face. "Hey, if you're going to brat at me, Carli Anne, you're not too old to go over my knee." Carli sputtered.  

"Maybe she should, Kris." The voice from the doorway made Carli yelp in surprise and she accepted the dressing gown Julie Foudy tossed at her, pulling it around herself as she slid out of bed.   

"Is everyone in my room?" she asked, sounding petulant even to herself.   

Julie laughed. "Not everyone, pet. Of course, I can oblige you if that's what you want..." She raised an eyebrow, smirking as Carli shook her head. "Then it's just me, Kris, and Kate."   

Carli was reduced to squeaking as Kate Markgraf made an appearance. The USWNT general manager rolled her eyes at her two former teammates. "I've got her, Lilly, you can go."   

"Aww," Kristine sighed, but she left obediently, leaving Carli with the two former players who still had firm connections to the team.  

"You know Kris will be back until she gets what she wants," Carli said, looking at Julie, who laughed.   

"Then Kate had better leave enough of you for her," she said with a faint grin.   

Carli blushed deeply. "Kate, you're not going to..."   

"Well, I could leave you to Foudy, if that's what you really want, little one," Kate replied. Carli glanced at Julie, met with her Mistress' raised eyebrows. She shook her head. "I'll behave for you, Kate."   

"You'd better," Julie said calmly.  

"All right, then," Kate said, seating herself on the edge of the bed. Carli was next to her, and she gently pulled the forward into position.   

"Don't you think I'm too old for this? I'm about to retire," Carli snarked.   

"I thought you said you were going to behave," Kate replied calmly. "Don't you remember how I deal with sass, Lloyd?"   

Carli's stomach knotted. "Yes ma'am."   

"Get it for me, would you Foudy?" Kate asked, and Julie was only too happy to comply.  

Carli tried not to tense up as Julie left the bed and went to the bathroom counter, returning with Carli's hairbrush. It had an oval back of sturdy walnut, not unlike Meghan Klingenberg's. It was very good at keeping Carli's hair in order. It wasn't often used for other purposes. Not on Carli at any rate. Not anymore.  

When Foudy had handed the brush to Kate, she gestured for the other woman to wait a minute, and sat down on the other end of the bed, where she could take Carli's head in her lap. Carli clung to Foudy's skort, and then Foudy nodded. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. A half-dozen rapid-fire swats with the brush smacked down across Carli's sit spots. Mercifully, Carli hadn't been bared yet, so she still had the negligible protection of her dressing gown, sleep shorts and panties, but those didn't make much of a barrier to Kate Markgraf's punishing swats. Carli would have shot off Kate's lap if Foudy - if Mistress hadn't been holding her so securely. As it was, she buried her face in Julie's lap and sobbed.  

When Kate had delivered the half-dozen smacks, she rubbed Carli's lower back gently. "All right, Carli Anne, that was for the talkback. Now we can get to managing this properly."   

Carli squirmed unhappily, but nodded, and lifted her hips for Kate at the older woman's quiet word. It didn't take long for Kate to bare Carli's bottom, and settle her back in place; then she began Carli's spanking properly, with her hand, alternating smacks over Carli's bottom cheeks. The forward clung to Foudy, taking her first dozen as bravely as she could. The second dozen had her squirming.   

Julie Foudy stroked her pet's hair gently. "Easy now, Carli Anne," she murmured. "You're doing so well for me and Kate."   

"I'm s-sorry I was bad, Mistress," Carli sobbed, and Kate didn't even blink, aware of the particulars of her friends' relationship.   

"I know. I have you," Foudy murmured. "This isn't for being bad, pet. Kate handled your sass. What is this for, hmm? Tell me."   

"F-for drinking too much last night?"   

"Oh God no, Carli," Julie rolled her eyes. "You at least ate something. You know that's not it, although it might help sober you up. Try again."  

Kate's hand moved lower, catching Carli over her already-paddled sit spots, and her undercurve, sharing out fifteen spanks between them. Carli curled up, sobbing, in Foudy's lap when Kate released her, and Foudy rocked Carli gently until she calmed.   

"Shhh, pet, all right, there now, my good girl, Carli," Julie murmured, stroking Carli's hair. "It's all right, all done, sweet girl. Did you figure it out yet, hmmm?"   

Tearfully, Carli shook her head, and Julie gave her a fondly exasperated look and a kiss on the forehead.   

"Really?" She gently set Carli's clothes to rights. "Come on now, pet, you've been Captain more recently than I have. What is it we do for our girls to keep their heads on straight, hmmm?"   

Carli's eyes widened, and she blushed. "Oh. Kris' record?"   

"Kris' record," Foudy agreed, continuing to cuddle her girl in her lap.   

"Was that why Kris was going to..." Carli trailed off, blush deepening.   

"She could have, you know," Foudy hmm-ed at that. "It's been a good long while since Kristine spanked you."   

Kate laughed gently as Carli hid her face in Foudy's shoulder. "And if you're scared of my paddlings, little one..."   

"Oh, now. She wouldn't," Julie Foudy chuckled reassuringly. "Okay, Carli, sweetheart, enough of that now. No more hiding, you're all right."  

"Going for Mia's record next, little bit?"   

Carli stumbled off of Foudy's lap, turning to look at an amused Kristine Lilly Heavey.   

"I'm good. I'm not that good," Carli said dryly.   

"You sure? That's only, what, fifty goals in three more matches?"   

Carli snorted. "If I had ten matches left, maybe."  

"I think I'll leave you two to it," Kate said, and at Foudy's nod she left.   

Kristine took Kate's spot on the bed, pulling Carli back into her lap. Carli stifled a yelp.   

"Oh, you've gotten it good already, have you, little one?" Kristine carded her fingers through Carli's hair, and the younger woman looked reproachfully at her former captain.   

"Yes."    

Kristine snorted. "Temper, temper, Carli Anne. You know I expect proper respect from my girls."  

"Yes ma'am," Carli tried again, the word sounding absolutely foreign in her mouth - when it came to Kris, anyway.  

Kristine gave Carli an exasperated look. "I'm not that old."   

No, just fifty, Carli thought, though she wasn't foolish enough to say it aloud.   

"Yes, Captain."   

"Third time's the charm. I always knew Lloyd was a smart girl," Kristine said to Foudy, who laughed.   

"Mhmm. And what do you plan to do with her, Kris? Kate did give her a pretty hard spanking just now, but I know she can take more if you need her to."   

Carli looked over at her Mistress, who raised an eyebrow. "If you have to, Kris," Carli said reluctantly, knowing that look. It would please her Mistress to have her take another spanking, therefore if Kris wanted to, she should let her. "Just remember we have another match coming up."   

"Tuesday, isn't it?" Kristine said. "This should ensure you remember how to behave until then." Carli felt like squirming at that pronouncement.  

"Go get it for me, Lloyd. You do have it, don't you?" Kristine asked.  

 Carli sucked in her lower lip, not biting it as she knew that wasn't allowed, then released it. "No, Captain. Brunn has it," she said, knowing exactly what Kristine was asking for.   

"Oh, well, in that case, perhaps Foudy will invite Brunn to our little party," Kristine said lightly.   

Carli's eyes widened. "We don't have to."   

"Oh, we don't?" Kristine set Carli on her feet. "Go get dressed," she said, since Carli was still in her pjs, and Carli hastily did as she was told, grateful for the reprieve, however brief. She disappeared into the bathroom and tried to take the proper amount of time for her morning routine without rushing it.   

When she returned, Foudy was gone. In her place was a bemused looking Rebecca Elizabeth Sauerbrunn, the USWNT team paddle resting on her lap, sitting beside Kristine.   

Carli froze in the door. Foudy had fetched Brunn and asked for...she had...oh god.  

"Hi, Carli," Becky said quietly, meeting her eyes. "You can come in, I'm not going to kill you."   

"Kris just might," Carli muttered, but she moved to perch gingerly next to Becky, on the other side from Kristine.   

"Hey. You okay?" Brunn wrapped an arm around Carli, giving her a squeeze. "Foudy told me you needed the team paddle in here. She didn't say why. I thought you had one of the kiddos up for something."  

 Carli rolled her eyes. "Not hardly."   

"I see that," Brunn nodded. "Kristine hasn't really filled me in," she added. In truth, she was a bit in awe of the older woman.   

"She wants it for me, Brunn," Carli said. "So she can make sure I remember how to behave until the next match, after Kate already..."   

Brunn winced. "Oh." She glanced sideways at Kristine. "Don't you think that might be a bit of overkill?"  

Kristine gave Becky a challenging look. "Do you...Captain?"   

Becky met her eyes squarely. "Yes. I do. And if you want to come at Carli you're going through me first."   

Carli's jaw practically fell into her lap. Don't give her ideas, Brunn, she thought frantically.   

But Kristine was smirking. "That could be arranged. But I think you've passed your test, little one."   

Carli sputtered, looking at Kristine - whose eyes were still on Becky.   

"Test?" Becky raised an eyebrow, ignoring the 'little one' remark.   

"Oh yes," Kristine's grin widened. "Foudy bet me you'd put yourself on the line for Carli. I told her no one would be that desperate, or that stupid." She chuckled. "She corrected me. She said stupid or desperate you were not. What you are is loyal. To your friends, to your country, but especially to your team, and you're not going to stand for any unfairness. Not ever."  

"Foudy's right," Becky replied. "So you're not going to be using this on Carli?"   

"Not today," Kristine promised. "Not before Tuesday," she added. "That's a promise - as long as Carli behaves herself."   

"If she doesn't, you can leave Carli to me," Brunn retorted.   

Kristine gave Brunn a measured look. "You know, I think you're right." She got up, leaned over and kissed Carli on the cheek before leaving Brunn and Carli alone together.   

Carli relaxed into Becky's embrace, shivering a little.   

"You okay now, Carli?" Becky murmured. Carli nodded. "Thanks, Brunn."   

"Anytime," Becky replied warmly. "It's all right now. Want some coffee, and breakfast?"   

Yes, Carli thought, it was. "Yeah. Mind if we get it somewhere that's...not here?"   

"Not keen on facing the girls after that? I wouldn't be either. I know a good place for coffee and donuts though, come on." Becky stashed the paddle in her bag, got up, and let Carli precede her from the room. The day could only improve from there.  

Chapter Text

In the visiting team's locker room, all was quiet.

No one was in the mood for celebrating - why would they be, with a draw this late in the season?

Captain Becky Sauerbrunn was most definitely not in the mood.

Yellow carded.

Her mind spun.

In the final minutes of the match, she'd picked up a yellow card for tangling with the Flash's third-string keeper. It hadn't really been on purpose - she'd practically been forced to make the tackle, not seeing any other options available at the time.

Off to one side, she vaguely sensed her teammate Sarah Hagen - also yellow carded, and ordinarily it'd be her responsibility to do something about it.

But.

Hypocrite, she thought, shaking her head. You can't, not when you've just...

But if not her, then who?

"Hey."

Becky lifted her head, looking around.

Framed in the doorway that led to the tunnel joining the two locker rooms, she spotted Carli Lloyd. The older girl had changed out of her New York Flash uniform already, and it was that, perhaps, that put Becky more at ease. She crossed the room to greet Carli, burying herself in her national teammate's embrace.

"It's alright," Carli whispered, patting Becky's back gently. "It's alright, Brunn, don't you worry about it. I've got an invitation from Wambach for you and your little friend there." She nodded in Sarah's direction.

Becky lifted her head to glare half-heartedly at Carli. "You say things like that and tell me not to worry about it?"

Carli snickered.

"I don't see anything funny in the least about it," Becky grumbled, and Carli sobered, petting her hair gently.

"No. You're right, it's not. And Abby knew you'd be taking yourself apart for it, knowing you couldn't help yourself. Well, Rampone may be our captain on the National Team, but Abby's her second, and she's my captain, so..."

Becky nodded reluctantly. "Is it going to be in front of everyone?" she asked meekly, and Carli shook her head.

"No, Abby got rid of everyone else, except Wys - she figured you had an apology you'd be wanting to make - and me, obviously," she added. "She told the others to get lost."

Becky nodded. "Is she going to let Wys stay for..."

Carli shook her head, and Becky sighed in relief.

"Okay."

Carli turned her head. "Grab your stuff and come on, Hagen."

Sarah glared at Carli, but looked at Becky, who nodded. She obeyed reluctantly, and Becky dismissed the rest of the team. "Lauren, will you take this lot back to the hotel and get them settled?"

"Aye aye, Cap." Lauren Holiday tossed her a salute, along with a sympathetic grin for her National teammate - she, too, knew the feeling of impending doom when facing a displeased Abby Wambach. "You want me to come back in case--"

"I've got her, Holiday," Carli said reassuringly. "Go on."

"Alright, you heard the Captain, come on," Lauren gathered the rest of the Kansas City girls up and hurried them on their way, and Becky lingered just long enough to ensure they were paying attention before following Carli and a reluctant Sarah Hagen to the other side.

The Western New York Flash's locker room was practically deserted.

The only occupants, as they entered, were Captain Abby Wambach and goalkeeper Kelsey Wys.

Abby raised an eyebrow at Becky, and she kept moving forward, going to stand in front of Kelsey. "Sorry I pulled you down," she said quietly. "Are you all right?"

Kelsey nodded. "Yeah, Sauerbrunn, I'm fine. Thanks for coming to check on me." 

That, Becky, Carli, and Abby all knew, was the closest to an outright acceptance of her apology she was likely to get from Wys.

"Okay, Kelsey. You can go now," Abby prompted. "Rest up, and I'll see you next practice."

Kelsey nodded, wished the other girls a good night, and left, not much the worse for wear.

"Hagen. Come here." Abby sat up straighter in her chair, gesturing the younger forward over, and Sarah obeyed reluctantly. "I'm not your captain. But you are one of ours -" she gestured, taking in Carli and Becky, and Sarah understood Abby meant the National Team. She'd earned a couple of caps for them, after all. "You know how we do things. Since Brunn can't..."

The brunette exhaled, eyes trained on the floor until Abby lifted Sarah's chin with her hand.

"Yes ma'am," she said quietly. She went to her knees in front of Abby, making the older striker's lips twitch in mild amusement. Abby hadn't asked for that. Though Rampone might. "Will you discipline me, please, since Brunn can't?"

None of the four in the room were under any illusion that Abby had intended anything else. "Well," Abby said dryly, "since you asked so nicely."

Carli laughed, though not mockingly. "You don't have to ask for it, sweetheart. Though I'm sure Abby appreciates your good manners."

Blushing, Sarah allowed Abby to take her into position, leaving her lounge pants in place. At least we already changed before Carli showed up, she thought. It was the one mercy Abby Wambach planned to give her.

Abby's hand swatted down firmly, and Sarah yelped. Brunn didn't spank anywhere near as hard as that. "Ow!"

"Oh, we're just getting started. Do you want Brunn to hold your hands, Hagen?"

"Yes ma'am," Sarah whispered.

Becky went to kneel in front of Sarah, taking her hands without being asked. This, then, was the least she could do for her teammate, holding her as Abby continued thoroughly warming her bottom.

"At least Wambach doesn't lecture," Carli muttered, sitting gingerly next to her captain.

"Don't see the point," Abby said conversationally as Sarah squealed and squirmed under her punishing swats. "They're not going to hear it anyway, more than likely."

Brunn winced, watching as tears shimmered in Sarah's eyes. The younger girl was trying to hold them back, she realized, trying to be brave for Becky.

"It's alright little one," Becky murmured. "You can let go, I've got you."

Sarah sniffled, and then the first tears fell. Then her breath hitched and she began sobbing on Becky's shoulder, as the older girl leaned forward to hold her more securely.

"S-sorry, sorry Captains, sorry..."

One more smack to each bottom cheek and Abby stilled her hand, moving it to rub Sarah's back.

"Alright Hagen, alright little one, breathe, we've got you."

"It's alright Sarah," Becky murmured, drawing back to look Sarah in the eyes. She accepted a sealed water bottle from Carli and uncapped it, then a pack of tissues, and helped Sarah clean her face. She handed the water over when Sarah was back on her feet. "Slow sips, little one," Becky instructed, brushing Sarah's hair back from her face with her hand, and the young forward nodded, taking slow sips obediently.

"Carli, take Hagen to go lie down for a little, then come back here," Abby instructed. 

Carli nodded, and gave Becky a sympathetic glance before leading Sarah away.

Becky froze the moment Carli was out of sight, fixing Abby with a deer-in-headlights look. The twenty-nine year old looked very much like she wanted to run, but couldn't.

Abby shook her head slightly, opening her arms to Becky. "Come here, Beck," she said, her tone surprisingly gentle. Off-balanced, Becky obeyed, and let Abby pull her close.

Abby settled Becky upright on her lap, stroking the younger girl's hair. "Breathe easy for me," she prompted. "It's okay, Becky, honey, I've got you."

"B-but..." Becky stuttered. "Abby, I got yellow carded, same as Sarah..."

"I know. I know you did." Abby nodded, squeezing Becky's shoulder. "Shhh. It's okay. I don't want you panicking, Becky, honey. You're not calm right now and I want us to figure out what's wrong."

Slowly, Becky nodded back. "It's just...I'm the Captain, Abby, I'm not supposed to--"

Abby covered Becky's mouth with her hand. "Rebecca Elizabeth Sauerbrunn, I know you weren't just about to tell me you have to behave perfectly because you're the Captain, were you?" she asked in a conversational tone that didn't fool either of them. Becky winced.

"Okay," Abby said, "I'm going to move my hand now, and you're not going to tell that lie to us, because I don't much feel like taking you to soap out your mouth tonight. You're going to tell me the truth, which is that you're human, and humans are allowed to make mistakes."

Becky was blushing vibrantly, but she nodded meekly to that.

Abby moved her hand, looking expectantly at Becky.

Becky dropped her gaze. "I'm human, and humans are allowed to make mistakes," she recited obediently.

"Good girl," Abby cooed, squeezing Becky's shoulder reassuringly. "And even when you find trouble for yourself, little one, you're disciplined to teach you the right way to behave. Not because getting in trouble makes you bad, or a bad person. You are a good person and a good Captain, and worthy of my attention." She paused. "Do you understand me, Rebecca?"

Becky nodded jerkily.

"Say it."

Swallowing, Becky dared a glance at Abby. "I...I am a good person and a good Captain, and worthy of your attention."

"That's right," Abby agreed. "Good girl. So in a minute, when Carli gets back, we'll take care of your spanking, little one. But I know it's your first time, your first yellow card, and I know you're nervous at least." She tucked an arm around Becky, giving her a gentle squeeze. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Not...of you, exactly, Abby," Becky ventured. "But just...the way it went with Sarah..." 

"You've been on my side of things, haven't you Becky?" Abby prompted, and Becky nodded slowly. "But I don't know...I don't like to make my teammates cry," she whispered.

"It's not about liking, sweetheart," Abby said, hugging her close. "You want them to be able to let go of what happened, to forgive themselves. Anything less than that is a disservice. It might not be about them crying, but if they haven't let go of what happened, they can't move on."

Becky's eyes widened, and the flash of worry in her gaze was accompanied by guilt.

"You mean maybe they haven't--"

"Shhh," Abby stopped her. "No dabbling in 'what if' or 'maybe' right now. We're not talking about them right now, we're talking about you."

"It sounded like we were talking about them," Becky dared to say, and then her eyes went wide.

Abby laughed. "Was that sarcasm from you, Brunn?" she marveled. "Will wonders never cease."

Becky's face was crimson with embarrassment. "Sorry...."

"Shhhh, honey," Abby murmured. "It's alright little one, you were being honest, and that's okay with me."

Carli reappeared a moment later, and perched a little less carefully on the chair beside Abby's. Her own yellow card spanking had been memorable, but not terrible, and it wasn't as though she was unused to such things. "Are you alright, Brunn? Cap hasn't started yet?"

"Just talking so far," Becky whispered, still mortified about what she had just said to Abby. The older woman chuckled quietly to herself.

"Just talking and a bit of sass from Brunn, if you can believe it."

Carli turned a surprised look on her younger friend. "Really?"

"I didn't mean to," Becky said meekly.

"Oh yes you did, even if it was only for a minute. And that's okay," Abby repeated. "I'd rather you tell me how you honestly feel, and you weren't actually disrespectful, so it's all right, you're not getting extra swats for that."

The phrasing made Becky tense. "Not for that ... ma'am?"

"You did try to lie to us, Becky, honey," Abby reminded her. "I helped you get around a soaping, that doesn't mean you can get out of it entirely. Not for something that's putting yourself down."

Becky cringed. "Oh."

"Becky, look at me," Abby said, gentling her tone just a bit more, and Becky looked into Abby's eyes, soft and concerned. "There's a good girl. All that's coming is a sore bottom, sweetheart. I'm not going to damage you, and I'm definitely not going to stop loving you. You're still our Brunn who we love very much. That's why we're doing this. Okay?"

Becky sniffled. "Okay, Abby."

"There's my girl." Abby hugged Becky close, patting her back. "Deep breaths for me, that's good, and in position when you're ready. Carli can hold you too. You're okay, you're safe."

After a few tense moments, Becky nodded and let Abby help her into position. Her upper torso rested on Carli's lap, and the older girl took her hands supportively.

"Just breathe, Brunn, we've got you," Carli reminded her, and Brunn obeyed, relaxing her bottom. 

Then the first spank fell.

Becky yelped louder than Sarah had, squirming on her teammates' laps, and Carli rested her free hand on Brunn's back, keeping her still as Abby continued the spanking. Like Sarah, Becky hadn't been bared for her punishment, but unlike Sarah she cried sooner and more freely.

"Shhhh," Abby murmured when it was done, rubbing Becky's lower back gently. "There now, there, we've got you, you've survived, sweetheart."

Becky whimpered as Carli washed and dried her face, trying to catch her breath, but finally she was calm and lifted up into Abby's arms. Abby fed her slow sips of water from a new water bottle, and she clung tightly to Abby, trying not to be ashamed of her weakness.

"S-sorry," she hiccupped, and Abby nodded.

"I know, sweetheart. It's alright, you're alright, I've got you. It's all finished, all forgiven, Brunn, my brave girl."

"It's okay," Carli agreed, humming to Brunn as the younger girl relaxed into Abby's embrace. "It's all done, you did so well for us, Brunn."

"T-thank you," Becky whispered, and Carli nodded.

"Come on. Let's get you and Hagen back to the hotel before Lauren tears up half of Rochester looking for you."

Becky blushed, but nodded, and Carli went to fetch Sarah.

The four women left the locker room together, heading back for the hotel where the two teams were staying. 

That night, Becky found getting a comfortable sleeping position somewhat difficult. However, once she managed to fall asleep, she slept well, at ease with herself and forgiven.

Chapter Text

April 12, 2023

Gothenburg, Sweden

"Hej, Sofia!"

Sofia Jakobsson turned and straightened slightly as the older woman approached. Though less than a year separated them, Kosovare was vice-captain, and that lent her an air of importance and authority that Sofia automatically responded to.

"Hej, Kosse." She returned the midfielder's greeting with a slight nod. Kosovare's friendly smile turned into a smirk.

"Caro's getting a party together tonight," she continued when she was sure she had Sofia's attention. "Over at Jenna's place. Since someone has a birthday soon."

"Jenna's turning thirty in two weeks," Sofia supplied. "Wouldn’t she be having her party then?"

"Caro's hosting it, Jenna just gave her the space. She wanted to make sure Jenna could celebrate with us - and not just her, someone else is having a birthday three days later," Kosovare added, giving Sofia a don't-be-stupid-you'll-regret-it-brat look.

"Yes ma'am," Sofia said, and blushed at the throaty chuckle this brought from Kosse. "I mean--"

"No, that's fine, lillan . In fact, I suggest you keep that up," Kosse added. "Especially for Caro."

Sofia's blush deepened.

"Alright. And it's at Jenna's when?"

"Dinner first, main event after," Kosse clarified. "You don't need to bring anything but yourself, though it would be proper to have a gift for Jenna - I'm sure you do - and a hostess gift for Caro." 

Sofia had been planning on gifting Jenna, Kosse knew that. As for Caro...well, Sofia had brought a small bunch of dried flowers AT had pressed for Caroline. She could stop and get a box of cookies for Caro, too, and some coffee.

Kosse let Sofia go to get ready, and Sofia headed back to her hotel room to pack her things, except what she'd need for the get-together. She stopped at Caro's favourite shop to get the cookies and coffee she knew Caro liked best and had them gift-wrapped. 

When it was time to go to Jenna's, Sofia put Jenna and Caro's gifts in the passenger seat of her rental car and made the drive over.

She was early.

That figured.

Sofia hated being early, and it would be impolite to go to the door early, so Sofia sat in her car, playing on her phone, until she heard a tap at the driver's side window, and jumped.

"Jakobsson."

Sofia unlocked the car, moved the bag of gifts to her lap, and gestured for her captain to come join her. At least now they were both early, though Caro had arrived at a much more reasonable time.

Caroline Seger slid into the passenger seat, angling herself toward Sofia. The two Swedes were the same height, but somehow Caro seemed to loom larger than Sofia, filling the formerly empty space with her authoritative presence.

"Can I do something for you, Captain?" Sofia offered, when Caro didn't say any more. The older woman gave a short laugh. 

"Hmm. Plenty," Caro said enigmatically. "But I wouldn't worry about that just yet." 

For some inexplicable reason, Sofia found herself blushing again. 

"Have you ever been to Jenna's place before?" Caroline asked, and Sofia shook her head. "Not really, no, Captain. I've spent time with Jenna before outside team things, we've met for coffee and that, but she hasn't really invited me to her house."

"Extend her the same courtesy you do our other teammates when you've visited, and you'll be fine. Though I suggest you watch yourself around Jenna once we get down to business," Caro added, and Sofia gave her an apprehensive look.

"Meaning..." She frowned. Jenna was a goalkeeper, and the eldest of the three keepers called into camp for the friendlies. The brunette was younger and shorter than both Sofia and Caro, but Sofia already knew never to underestimate a keeper. She didn't think that was what Caro was talking about.

"Birthday privileges, lillan ," Caro said with an enigmatic smile. "Now come on, it's time." She slid out of the car, and picking up the bag, Sofia followed.

They gathered with the other girls on Jenna's covered porch. There was a table set up to receive gifts; Sofia put Jenna's birthday present on it, and gave Caro her hostess gift directly.

"Not now, lillan ." Caro put hers down on the table. "We'll sort those out later." The pile was growing; Sofia noticed some for her as well as for Jenna and Caro in it.

When everyone was there, Jenna thanked them all for coming, and especially Caroline for agreeing to host the party. Caro smiled.

"Of course, I wouldn't leave it to anyone else. Well, Magda, maybe, or Kosse."

The younger captains exchanged amused looks. They had helped Caroline get this together. But then Pernilla, Jenna's girlfriend - not to be confused with Pernille, who was Magda's girlfriend and not at the party anyway - poked her head in to say dinner had arrived, if they were ready to have it.

Predictably, the team was starving. There was very little talking as they enjoyed their meal, focusing on the food, and the traditional Swedish birthday cake, or ‘princess cake’, that was served after.

After the traditional song had been sung (making Sofia, at least, blush a bit) Caro cut a generous slice for Sofia, as Pernilla served Jenna, then cut slices for the rest of the team. 

“Looking forward to what comes next, lillan? I hope you’ve behaved well, for your sake. ”

Sofia gave Caro a wary look. “Captain?”

“Because I’ll very much enjoy having you over my knee, birthday girl, but if you’ve been a naughty girl, we might have to alter our discussion. Have you behaved yourself?”

Sofia’s cheeks pinkened. “Um…”

"I think not."

Sofia twisted around in her seat to look at Magda, Sweden's third-captain. Magda was younger than her, but wielded that same authority that Caro and Kosse displayed with an easy grace. Now she was lounging in her chair with a small smirk on her face.

"April first, Sofia? Sound familiar?"

Color shot into Sofia's face and she resisted the urge to hunch down in her chair. The rest of the team (except Kosse) were studiously ignoring Caro, Magda, and Sofia, focusing their attentions on Jenna, but she felt they were all still listening.

"Um...well..." Sofia squirmed.

"I've got her, Magda," Caro promised. "Have you finished your cake, lillan ?" 

Sofia stared down at the remainder of her slice, taking that as an order to eat the last few bites. Her mouth was dry and they stuck in her throat.

Swallowing it down with the last of her coffee (decaf, and somewhat cold by now) she looked back at Caro. "I've finished."

"Good girl." Caro rested her hand on Sofia's face, caressing her cheek. "I suggest you remember that, since you won't be hearing it from me again tonight for a little while."

Sofia swallowed. "Yes Captain."

"Come on then." Caro helped Sofia up, leading her over to the sofa. There was a crocheted blanket draped over the back, made of soft, thick wool, and Sofia imagined burying her face in it, hiding from Caro and everyone else she just knew was looking at them.

She wouldn't have to imagine for long. Caro sat down in the middle of the sofa, beckoning Sofia. "You know how you have to be, Eva Sofia."

Her stomach jolted, Even Caro rarely called her Eva Sofia , and it was never a good sign.

"Yes ma'am." Very reluctantly, she followed Caro to the sofa, draping herself across the older woman's knees and burying her face in the blanket.

There was a tsk above her. "Aren't you forgetting something, naughty girl?"

"Am I forgetting something, Caro?"

To Sofia's credit, she sounded genuinely confused, not sarcastic or impudent, and Caroline allowed herself an amused smile, running her hand through her younger teammate's blonde hair.

"Would I say so if you weren't, lillan ? How are you supposed to be when you are over my knee?"

Sofia's lip trembled. "O-oh, but I thought...since it was a birthday spanking..."

"A birthday spanking for a naughty girl, Eva Sofia," Caroline said, sternness slipping back into her tone, and blushing, Sofia swallowed nervously. "Stand up," Caro continued, and Sofia got to her feet, not resisting as the Captain tugged Sofia to stand between her legs..

Nevertheless, her blush deepened as Caro peeled her leggings down, tucking her skirt up in the back. At least she'd left Sofia's underwear in place, but Sofia wasn't counting on it remaining there. "Now, back over my knee, Eva Sofia."

Sofia resumed her place, hugging an armful of the blanket to her chest. Nice going, Jakobsson, now Caro's really had it with you, she thought.

"You will count and thank me for each one," Caro ordered Sofia, who twisted around to blink up at her. 

"Captain?"

"Was I unclear, Eva Sofia?" Caro tapped her foot impatiently.

"Well...no, but you've never told me to do that before," Sofia said uncertainly.

"Let's call it a little preview to the rest of the night's events," Caroline said calmly.

Butterflies in her stomach, Sofia nodded. "O-okay." 

Caroline patted her head, cooing with sardonic sympathy. "You're playing with the big girls now, Eva Sofia. Better get used to it."

Then the first smack fell.

It was not a gentle one, and Sofia stifled a yelp, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary. "O-one, thank you, Captain," she managed to get out, still bewildered over that development. Having to thank Caro for the swats? Since when? Why? She only had a second to puzzle it over before the second spank fell, and she managed to count it off properly, not eager to earn Caro's displeasure further.

One dozen, then two dozen. Sofia's mind was spinning, but as her bottom heated up, she focused on the task she'd been given. Count and thank me for each one . So far, she hadn't slipped up yet. 

"T-twenty-four, thank you, ma'am."

There was a pause. "What was that, Eva Sofia?"

Sofia realized what she'd said, and rephrased it. "Twenty-four, thank you Captain."

"I suggest you keep the other one in mind for later tonight," Caro said, a brief flicker of amusement in her tone. "But we're not quite finished, Eva Sofia. Are we?"

"N-no, Captain." Sofia tried to steady her breathing, shuddering.

She counted her way to thirty as Caro turned her attention to Sofia's sit spots, fighting the urge to give into tears.

When she managed to choke out "thirty-four, thank you Captain," Caro's hand stilled, rubbing her bottom through the thin protection of her underwear, still miraculously in place.

"Alright, Sofia, there's my good girl," she cooed. "You did so well for me, lillan . Now let's get you back up, and let's not have any more naughty yellow cards, shall we?"

Shaking, Sofia nodded, and pushed herself to her feet. Caro righted Sofia's clothing, rubbing her back.

"Hurts, doesn't it? But that's what happens to naughty girls, lillan . You want to be a good girl if you're planning to have fun tonight."

Sofia gave Caro a wary look. "What's all this hinting about, Captain?"

Caro just gave her an enigmatic smile.

"You'll see in a little while, Sofia. Go sit with Magda like a good girl, until we're ready to get to the main event. Pernilla has to manage Jenna first."

"At least Jenna's been a good girl," Magda smirked, taking Sofia from Caro as Pernilla led Jenna off to their bedroom.

Sofia sputtered in their wake. “Jenna doesn’t get smacked in front of everyone?”

“Jenna,” Caro said with a raised eyebrow, “wasn’t a naughty girl.”

Sighing, Sofia allowed Magda to lead her back to the table, sitting on the folded-up blanket.

“It’s alright Sof,” Magda cajoled, patting Sofia’s knee. “You’re a good girl - now, at least - and no one’s angry with you. It’s all going to be alright, you’ll see.”

Sofia squirmed and nodded, waiting for Jenna and Pernilla’s return.

She didn’t have long.

When the pair returned, the presents were divided up, and they took turns opening them. Sofia gave each gift proper consideration, thanking the giver. She opened up the smallest packages first, since they were sitting on top.

These were mostly from the youngests who didn’t know Sofia as well - gift cards, packages of cookies, a couple gave her packets of flower seeds to grow when she returned home to San Diego. Or attempt, in the wildly varying climate.

As Sofia worked her way through her pile, she picked up a medium-sized package at last.

This was signed “ happy birthday Sofia, from Pernille H” and Sofia looked sideways at Magda, who grinned.

“P insisted on getting you something. Can’t think of why that would be.”

Sofia was immediately on guard. What could the Dane have planned for her? She wasn’t sure Pernille even liked her, thinking of her as a bad influence on Magda.

“Open it, don’t just stare at it, Sof.”

Carefully, Sofia unwrapped the package. 

Inside was a jewelry box, big enough to fit in both Sofia’s hands cupped together, and somewhat flat. A gold latch on the front held it closed, and she pressed the button, springing it open.

Nestled in a bed of plush velvet was…

Sofia blinked twice, lifting the round wood paddle from its place. One side was unblemished, the other had brat carved into it.

Sofia’s cheeks burned, and Magda only smirked, chuckling softly to herself.

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought,” she said. “P would do that.”

"Um, thank you to Pernille then, I guess, Magda," Sofia offered. "I'm sure it'll be...useful. Hopefully not too much."

Magda chuckled. "Well, we'll see about that. You still have a few boxes left there, don't you?" She passed her gift to Sofia personally. Sofia eyed her fellow brat with a wary expression - younger Magda might be, but she was more experienced, plus being attached, which Sofia wasn't. She licked her lips, suddenly dry, as she unwrapped the package.

It wasn't another implement, much to Sofia's relief.

Instead, it was a book on how to be a proper brat, which made Sofia squirm. Such things were normal and natural, of course, she knew that - but she hadn't really pictured herself in that sort of position with anyone yet. The spankings she'd gotten from Caro and her club captains had seemed to fill her need enough. But to belong to someone, to be their brat...hmm.

That made her wonder. "Thank you, Magda," she said, knowing her teammate only wanted the best for her.

Another paddle from Caro - a leather one this time, dyed blue with a yellow cross on it - and a strap, of all things, from Kosse, completed her haul, and she stared at Kosse in horror. "You don't think I need that," she protested.

Kosse snorted. "If you can protest that much after already being spanked? Well, we'll see. Let's call it a security measure against red cards, lillan."

Sofia knew she could only say one thing to that. "Thank you, Kosse."

The other Swede smiled. "With that out of the way - it's time to play."

"Come to the back room, Sofia. We've got everything set up," Pernilla instructed, and Sofia looked at the other girl, stomach fluttering as understanding finally began to dawn. "Who--"

"You're mine tonight, Sof," Magda murmured. "Don't worry, sweet one, I'll take good care of you, and make sure P's gift gets good use. Is that something you're okay with?"

Slowly, Sofia nodded. She was nervous, but as Magda guided her to the back room, the other girls following, she held Pernille's paddle in her other hand.

No time to learn like the present.

Chapter Text

Sofia wasn't really sure what she was expecting when she followed Caro, Kosse, Magda, and the other girls to the back room of Jenna's house.

The leather couch that normally graced the middle of this room (facing the TV along one wall) had been unfolded into a padded bench, something like a chiropractor's bench, Sofia thought. She was familiar enough with those from recovery procedures.

Of course, chiropractic benches didn't normally come with arm and leg restraints. She eyed the leather cuffs doubtfully.

The smooth, dark wood paneled floor (matching the walls) had a number of soft rugs and beanbag chairs scattered across it, providing a less threatening appearance. Most of the girls went to find seats on them, around the edges of the room.

There was a storage closet on the far wall, and Jenna leaned in to whisper to her. "If you were ours, Sof, Pernilla would send you to get something from there."


The implication was immediately clear.

"I'm Magda's tonight, though," was all she could think of to say, and Magda curled an arm around her, squeezing gently.

"That's right. Mine," she cooed. "Such a good girl for me, Sof. P will be sorry she missed out, so we'll have to put her present to good use. Don't you think?"

Sofia squirmed. "Yes Magda."

"What was that, Eva Sofia?"

Skit, Sofia cursed silently in Swedish. "Yes ma'am?" she tried again, getting an approving nod. To cover her embarrassment at her mistake, she looked around the room some more. On the walls were posters from (mostly spanking related) conventions, paintings that seemed innocent at first but that made Sofia's stomach flip - particularly all the landscapes of birch trees. Someone, probably Pernilla, had a fascination with birch trees.

"Alright Eva Sofia," Magda said again. "Enough stalling. Time to play."

"What do I do?" Sofia asked meekly, and Magda ran a reassuring hand over her hair. 

"Up on the bench, lillan. I'll see to baring you myself. As long as you're still good with this."

 Sofia hadn't expected anything else, really. As a captain, Magda nearly always spanked bare. Why should this be different?

She nodded cautiously. After all, if it was play, they could stop anytime.

She tried to ignore the fact that all their teammates' eyes were on her, shivering as she settled facedown on the bench, head cradled on the headrest, holding her neck still. 

As though prepared for the guillotine, she thought morbidly. Clarisse might like that joke. 

"Hands," Caro ordered gently, and guiding Sofia, fastened her wrists into the soft leather cuffs. Her ankles followed, immobilizing Sofia completely.

Then Magda stepped around to Sofia's side, giving her bottom a gentle pat. It was all the warning she had before her clothing was shifted out of the way, and she shivered, blushing at the exposure. Magda, and Caro and Kosse at least, were close enough to have a good view of her surely already pink bottom.

Sofia squirmed as much as she was able.

A gentle spank from Magda's hand stilled her, though.

"That's enough, lillan," Magda scolded gently. "I'm surprised at you. You're submissive, I'm surprised you haven't seen a room like this before."

She squirmed in response. "I don't want to be a submissive, Magda, not like this anyways, it's not fair," she whispered. "So I just kind of ignored it, let it go, and let the spankings I got from my captains be enough. If they weren't..."

"If they weren't, what, Eva Sofia?" Magda asked.

Horribly aware of her vulnerable position, surrounded by her captains and her team, Sofia let out a small whine, but knew better than to lie. "I kind of...self-medicated? With tea, and energy drinks. Lots of energy drinks. But I haven't had to like that for ages," she added hurriedly, "Tobin and Christen have helped so much."

Magda nodded. "When you go home, you're going to talk to Tobin about your maintenance," she warned Sofia. "But for now, we'll take care of that, too. I think perhaps Kosse's gift will see some use after all." She paused, rubbing Sofia's bottom gently. "Can you really say I'm wrong about it?"

"No ma'am," Sofia cringed. "Just please, not too hard?"

"Just enough," Magda promised, pressing one hand lightly on Sofia's back. "Count them for me, lillan."

That was her only warning before the paddle struck. The round wood paddle, about the same size as the team paddles, was impacting her bottom with light but sharp smacks, the word _brat_ imprinting itself firmly upon its target with repeated blows. Six, twelve, eighteen, twenty...

Sofia gasped and yelped, trying to hold back proper crying. She knew they were far from done, even as twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four struck home. 

Magda paused to rub Sofia's back and bottom gently.

"What do we have here," Caro mused. "A brat," she added without waiting for an answer. "Obviously."

"Our brat," Magda said softly, squeezing Sofia's shoulder. 

Sofia relaxed into her touch, tears subsiding to whimpers again. "Magda...does it have to be the strap?" 

"You endangered your wellbeing, little girl, you're just lucky it isn't a cane," Magda replied tartly.

Sofia winced. "T-thank you for your leniency, ma'ams," she addressed Caro, Kosse, and Magda together. 

They nodded, standing where Sofia could see them.

"It'll be ten, Sofia. And you will contact the Classification Centre when you get home, or have Tobin do it for you," Magda said firmly.

"I don't even know where the closest one is," Sofia grumbled. "But I guess Tobin would know, she mentioned something about taking Alyssa in a couple months."

"She'll have to go sometime after she finishes school," Magda agreed. "Now, stop distracting me so we can finish this, Eva Sofia."

"Yes ma'am," Sofia agreed reluctantly, closing her eyes tightly. 

The next moment, the short, flexible strap smacked down across her bottom cheeks over the burn left by the paddle. She would have jumped or twisted out of the way if she could, but she couldn't, so Sofia lay helplessly and took it. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. The licks of the strap burned her bottom, searing the message into the tender place where bottom met thigh. Behave yourself, Eva Sofia - or else. 

When the strapping was finished, Magda put the implement aside, caressing Sofia's punished bottom with her hand gently. "There's my good girl, Sofia, such a good brat, being so good for ma'am," she cooed. "It's all done now, you're okay lillan." 

The next thing Sofia felt was a cooling lotion being rubbed over her bottom, and her clothes being gently tugged back into order. Then, she was released from the bench, and slowly helped to sit up. 

That did not feel good, and Sofia quickly got back to her feet, nearly falling right into Magda's arms. The other Swede held her tightly.

"It's alright, good girl, so good, you took your birthday spankings so well for us Sof," Magda soothed her. "Now all you have to do is make sure you speak to someone at Classification."

Sofia sighed reluctantly. "Alright, I'll do it," she agreed. "But I don't have to like it."

Magda rolled her eyes. "Tobin can make obeying the less painful option. Does she know you haven't been to the Centre yet?"

"Um...." Sofia fidgeted. "It might not have ever come up."

"Well, it's going to now."

"Yes ma'am, Magda, I promise."

"Good girl."

Chapter Text

It had been a long flight back from Sweden. Sofia was exhausted, ready to collapse, when she finally got home to the Preath household. She’d slept in the passenger seat of Christen’s car on the drive home from LAX, but as she dragged her stuff back into the house, Sofia gave a heavy sigh.

Christen looked concerned. "Sofia? Are you okay?" she prompted, giving the Swede a hug, which Sofia reciprocated.

"I...yeah, I just...fucked up really bad, you know?" Sofia muttered, wincing at the language.

Christen let it go without comment. "Okay, Sofia, honey, so let's talk this out." She guided Sofia to the kitchen, where her charge sat gingerly on the hard wooden chair. "I'm sure whatever went wrong, we can fix it together. You didn't murder anyone, did you?" she checked.

Sofia blinked. "What? No!"

"You didn't rob anybody? Steal a car? Break anything, including yourself? You look intact, although you're not sitting easily, I notice."

"You'd be sore too after coming on a plane all the way from Stockholm," Sofia grumbled. "No, no, and no, I didn't commit any crimes. No assaults. You know I wouldn't."

"Then whatever this is, it's fixable, lillan," Christen murmured reassuringly, and Sofia blushed.

"I might have lied to Tobin," Sofia admitted reluctantly, after a long pause.

Christen's eyebrows went up. "...Oh? You mean you lied to both of us, since I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"Um...yeah," Sofia whispered.

"About what, Sofia, sweetheart? You know Tobs won't judge you for any reason, and neither will I. We still love you as you are, always." 

"I didn't actually register with the Classification Center," Sofia said quietly.

Christen's eyes widened. "You haven't been going to appointments? Sofia, we thought you had someone in San Diego helping you."

Sofia's blush deepened. "I know," she said meekly. "I never actually told you and Tobin I did, though. I just kind of let you...think I did." 

Christen grimaced. At least she had Tobin to see to her maintenance, she thought. She was partnered, she was much less likely to have a problem. "Eva Sofia, you're in big trouble, you realize that."

"I know," Sofia said meekly. "But Christen, Magda already paddled me and strapped me for it."

"I knew you couldn't just be stiff from the flight," Christen said wryly. "Well then, as she should, and Tobin won't do anything before tomorrow, I promise. But we do need to talk to her."

Sofia felt immensely better for the 'we'. "You're not mad?"

Christen brushed a hand over her fellow submissive's hair. "No. Tobin won't be mad with you either, though she will be upset by what you've concealed from us, because it could be dangerous for you. But you're going to be okay, sweetheart, we still love you no matter what and want what's best for you."

Sofia hunched down in her seat, hugging her knees to her chest. “Christen…it’s going to be awful, isn’t it? The Classification Center?”

Christen quirked an eyebrow. “Haven’t you been to one in Sweden, Sofia?”

“Well, yeah, but you know what everyone says about Americans and their healthcare, and government stuff…I try to avoid it when I can,” Sofia mumbled.

Christen gave her an exasperated, but sympathetic eyeroll. “You’ve already been Classified, honey, you just need to register yourself properly. It shouldn’t take long to transfer your records over.”

“Can we do it online?” Sofia asked hopefully, and Christen sighed.

“Yeah, probably, but it’s late. We’ll do it in the morning. You are going to bed right now young lady, and don’t you dare argue with me.”

“It’s cute when you try to be Tobin,” Sofia smirked, and Christen swatted the back of her head.

“Bed. Now.”

“I’m going. I’m going.”

Sofia dragged herself off to bed, pausing when she saw Tobin waiting up for her. “Oh…hi.”

“Hi, she says.” Tobin raised an eyebrow. “Come sit down. Or can you sit comfortably?”

Blushing, Sofia perched gingerly on her bed. “How’d you know?”

“Eriksson sent word ahead that you’d been punished for something, and seemed to think you wouldn’t need to catch it again for whatever it was. She said Seger disagreed.”

“...Great. I don’t know whether to be grateful to Magda or hit her,” Sofia grumbled.

“Considering she’s in the UK by now and you’re here, I’d go with the first one, bratling ours. So, what is it that Eriksson thinks we need to know?” Tobin tucked an arm around Sofia, and Sofia sighed.

“I…haven’t been to the Classification Center yet since coming to San Diego…you know, registering, looking for…for a Top to support me,” Sofia explained, voice trembling with anxiety. “I figured between you and Alex, it was enough, but to give myself to…someone, to take care of me, who might need to control me sometimes…I don’t have anyone like that who loves me for me, and to have to resort to going to a government mandated professional…” Sofia’s voice shook.

“What have you been doing when you feel signs of drop then, Sofia?” Tobin asked, hugging her harder. She was angry that Sofia had neglected her health, but given the feelings she had about it, Tobin could understand why.

“Self medicating with caffeine and energy drinks and that kind of thing,” Sofia admitted reluctantly. She gulped as Tobin tilted Sofia’s head up, so their eyes met.

“If Magda hadn’t sworn to “the old gods and the new, and everything holy” that she’d punished you enough, you’d be meeting your lillasyster’s candy cane again right about now.”

Sofia gulped. “Yes ma’am.” She felt a bubble of hilarity catch in her throat at Tobin’s quote, but swallowed again. “I…I’m just scared to go meet…those people. Please, Tobin, Mama Tobin,” she added, eyes wide. “Can I register online? Do I have to try and sign up for a government Top, right now?”

“You’re not self medicating anymore, Eva Sofia,” Tobin said firmly. “You come to me or Alex when you need help, do you understand? And if we’re not available, I’m sure someone else on San Diego qualifies. I’m not going to make you go meet a strange Top if you’re scared…but you do need taking care of.”

Exhaling in relief, Sofia nodded. “I just…when I do meet someone who I can trust with myself, I want it to be like Christen with you.”

Tobin smiled slightly, and leaned over, giving Sofia a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “I pray you’ll find the right person to have that with, Sofia,” she said softly. “I’m sure there’s someone waiting for you. Tomorrow, we’ll do the online form, and then the rest can take care of itself.” Tobin gave Sofia’s shoulder a pat. “For now, sleep.”

“Am…am I forgiven?” Sofia asked quietly, and Tobin smiled reassuringly.

“Yes. Just go to sleep, little one. Things will be better tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

"Christen Annemarie Press."

Softly spoken as it was, hearing her full name just seconds after Sofia and Alyssa had left for the Classification Center put Christen on instant alert.

She slowly turned to look at Tobin, feeling a flutter of apprehension.

"What did I do..." Christen paused, since Ali was still present, but as their friend raised an eyebrow to match Tobin's expression, she finished, "ma'ams?" 

Ali chuckled quietly, shaking her head as Tobin spoke.

"What do you think you did, Christen?" she inquired pointedly, setting Christen to squirming as she tried to think of the correct answer, the answer that Tobin was looking for.

"I..." Christen hesitated, replaying the last few minutes in her head. "I'm not sure, ma'am," she admitted, hating to disappoint Tobin.

Tobin pulled her close and gave her a reassuring kiss, a silent assurance that Tobin wasn't mad that she didn't know. "Think about it, love," she prompted. "How did you react to Ali arriving with breakfast for AT?"

Christen froze, cheeks flushing. "I...didn't react well," she admitted. "I already had breakfast handled, I had wanted to feed our little one myself, not be..."

"Replaced?" Ali asked quietly, nodding at Christen's visible wince. "But that's not what happened, is it, Christen? We combined the good things we had for her. I may have gone to wake her up, but I didn't take her from you. She wanted your reassurance before going out there, not just mine."

Christen exhaled, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't know what got into me, Ali, I know you have every right to love Alyssa as much as we do, to take care of her, you're her Captain Tia and she loves you too, I knew you weren't trying to replace me really, I just..."

"Forgot?" Tobin prompted, and at Christen's reluctant nod, she hummed soothingly to her girlfriend, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"I think it's been a little too long since you had a reminder of how much you mean to me, Christen. To us," she added, indicating Ali with a gesture, and Christen's eyes widened. "It was Ali who you were rude to, after all, love."

Christen swallowed nervously. "Yes ma'am," she said, and Tobin stroked her cheek gently.

"Just maintenance swats, love, this isn't a punishment. We missed your regular time what with everything going on, and that's on me to be watching. So as long as you behave well for me and Ali, nothing too terrible."

Christen exhaled in relief and nodded. "Thank you for your leniency, Tobin, ma'am."

"It's not about leniency, Chris, it's about being fair," Tobin said with a fondly exasperated smile. "Go get it, you know where it is."

Christen didn't need any clearer direction. She went back to hers and Tobin's bedroom and retrieved the small leather paddle that resided in the top dresser drawer.

It was about the size of an oval hairbrush back, and it would do the job of delivering a proper spanking without being too severe. 

She returned to Tobin, and let Tobin lead her to the couch.

"Over the arm, Christen. Hands on the seat."

It wasn't how Tobin usually positioned her for maintenance swats, but perhaps Ali would be going first, Christen thought.

She bent over the arm of the couch as instructed, closing her eyes, and felt familiar hands close on her waist, adjusting her position. Christen sucked in a breath as her joggers were tugged down over her bottom, revealing her white cotton briefs.

The same familiar hand came back to rest on her thinly clothed bottom. It wasn’t Tobin.

Ali. Of course it was Ali.

“Comfortable, Christen?” Ali asked softly, She chuckled at Christen’s disbelieving snort. “Just asking,” she said lightly. “Ready to start then?”

“Yes Ali,” Christen said reluctantly, yelping as Ali’s hand connected with her bottom, the first swat sharper than she’d expected.

“Yes what now, Christen?” Ali added, and Christen winced at her mistake.

“Yes ma’am.”

“That’s better,” Ali replied calmly. It didn’t always matter with Ali, but for a ritual such as maintenance, it was important Christen remember her manners. That was the point, after all.

Christen’s “sorry” didn’t go unheeded, and Ali gave her bottom a gentler pat, in forgiveness. 

“I know, Chris. Now let’s get started.”

Christen tried to keep her bottom relaxed as the paddle began its descent. The swats were lighter than real punishment swats, more sound and sting than actual forceful burn. Christen didn’t bother keeping count, knowing Ali would stop when she was satisfied, and instead allowed herself to sink deeper into the ritual itself.

She was Tobin’s submissive, and Ali’s friend, and it wasn’t her place to be a rude little girl to Ali when all Ali had been trying to do was help AT. It was unacceptable, she’d been a brat, and she knew it. She deserved this spanking from Ali, for disappointing her friend, and tears stung her eyes though Ali wasn’t really paddling her all that hard.

Christen sniffled aloud, and immediately the paddle stopped falling.

“Are you okay in this position, Chris, sweetie? Is your knee starting to pain you?” Ali ran a hand lightly over Christen’s back as the submissive whimpered. “You don’t want to strain it again, no, shh, shhh, it’s alright honey, let’s get you lying down on the couch.”

She couldn’t even articulate that it was her bottom she was worried about, not her knee. Because her knee had twinged a little bit there, and she grimaced at the reminder. 

“Please help me, ma’am,” she whispered, and Ali helped Christen up, sitting down and settling Christen over her lap on the couch.

“It’s alright sweetheart, you’re taking your swats very well,” Ali promised Christen. “We’ll be done soon.”

Tobin came to sit with Ali, drawing Christen’s head into her lap and stroking her hair. “We’ll make it quick, Chris. I think it’ll be easier for you if Ali finishes your swats this time.”

Christen nodded, blushing as Ali tugged down her panties to reveal her bare bottom. 

It wasn’t as though Ali had never seen that before. Ali had disciplined her before, and it hadn’t been as simple as maintenance swats. But somehow, lying here on Ali’s and Tobin’s laps, waiting for the rest of her paddling, Christen felt nervous.

“Just ten more love,” Tobin said, knowing Ali would stick to it. Christen nodded into her lap, flinching as the paddle met bare flesh. She didn’t think Ali was spanking any harder, but somehow it just sounded worse. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Over halfway through the last set, Christen’s emotions started to become too much for her, and she let out a guilty sob.

“Sorry, Ali, I’m sorry I was rude, sorry I was jealous, it was stupid, it was wrong…”

Ali set the paddle aside. “Shhh…breathe, Christen, just take it in, let it out, it’s alright, breathe, good girl, we’re almost done…”

Focusing on her breathing, Christen nearly missed the almost. But Tobin had said ten, after all.

“Let me up, love,” Tobin said softly, and Christen let Tobin lift her up a little so Tobin could stand, settling Christen back down on the couch again. Christen whimpered in despair at the loss, but Tobin hummed soothingly to her. “Give me a minute, darling, I’ll be right back.”

Tobin knelt on the floor by Ali, and picked up the paddle Ali had discarded. She gave Christen four firmer swats, two to each bottom cheek, making Christen yelp.

“T-Tobin, ma’am, sorry!”

“I know.” Tobin gently tugged Christen’s panties back up, and lifted Christen into her arms. “Shh, Christen, honey, it’s alright, all done, my brave Chris.” 

Tobin carried Christen back to their bedroom and settled her on the bed, easing her joggers off all the way and covering her with a light blanket. 

“It’s alright love. You’re okay, all settled, my good girl,” she murmured, giving Christen a hug. “No more paddle for a while now. You’ve had enough, just rest.”

Christen nodded tiredly. “Is Ali upset, Tobs?” she asked, and Tobin gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead.

“No, I promise. She just wants you to rest and your knee to feel better, just like I do. You took your swats so well, it’s all alright, good girl.”

Christen felt a sense of peace descend as Tobin reassured her. She yawned, and drifted off in Tobin’s arms.

Good girl, she thought as she neared sleep. Being Tobin’s good girl was one of the best feelings there was.

The last thought to cross Christen’s mind before oblivion claimed her was whether Alyssa would be finding that same peace for herself.

Chapter Text

"It's so hard coming home to an empty house." 

Ashlyn gave Tobin a fleeting, sympathetic look. "You know she'll be fine. Abby and Glennon won't let anything happen to the kiddo."

"I know she'll be fine," Tobin said glumly.

Ashlyn shook her head, putting an arm around Tobin as she led her younger friend inside. Ahead of them, Christen (whose leg had been paining her again) was snuggled in Ali's arms, the Gotham defender carrying Christen as carefully as she could.