Disclaimer: Not mine. And for one I went with more drama than the writers.
A/N: I was trying to write smut but it wasn't working, so I wrote angst instead.
Payson had come to think in terms of good-Sasha-days and bad-Sasha-days. Today was a good-Sasha-day. He wasn't avoiding her; he didn't tense every time their hands brushed. They joke and laughed together, enjoying the camaraderie that had defined their relationship before that stupid kiss. They were working on her beam routine, and she had made more progress with it in forty-five minutes than in the last three days together. Those three days had been bad-Sasha-days.
She hated bad-Sasha-days. They had started after his return from Romania, but Payson had never figured out the cause. Sometimes she thought that maybe he hated her for what she said to him in Snagov. On bad-Sasha-days, he worked with everybody in the gym except Payson. He didn't look at her, he didn't touch her, and he barely acknowledged her presence when she spoke to him. On the rare occasion that he did work with her on a bad-Sasha-day, they butted heads at every turn. He negated all of her suggestions and saw nothing in her execution but flaws. More often than not she lost her temper with him and they ended up having a screaming match in the middle of the gym. Nobody ever won those arguments. They just got pushed to the backburner until a good-Sasha-day rolled around and they could work without yelling, like they were tonight.
They were alone in the gym. The other gymnasts had all left half an hour ago, but Payson had stayed when it became evident that Sasha was actually willing to consider her upgrade suggestions. The changes went smoothly, mainly because Payson had already been working on them. It was a coping mechanism she had discovered months ago; when she wanted to upgrade a skill and Sasha was unwilling, she simply worked on her own in the annex. Then, on a good-Sasha-day, she would broach the subject again and he would agree. She had worked closely enough with him before Snagov that she knew what his thoughts would be, were he in a normal state of mind. When they did finally work together, the she would have the mechanics of the skill down and Sasha's expertise would help to make it competition ready.
He leaned against the beam as she landed her new dismount, a triple twisting gainer. Payson saluted and then turned toward him, surprised by how close they were. He was directly across the beam from her, resting his forearms against the apparatus as he grinned. She was momentarily stunned; the combination of his proximity and his gorgeous smile was too much for her.
"Payson, that was amazing," he said. Then a mischievous look passed across his face and his voice took on a teasing manner. "So, you've never done the triple gainer before tonight, huh? That's a very impressive learning curve."
Busted. Well, she wasn't going to own up to it. She shook off the daze that had captured her and leaned casually against the beam, slightly to the right of him, her posture mirroring his on the opposite side of the beam. She turned her head toward him, mentally taking note of the fact that his lips were only inches from hers, and replied, "I'm a very talented gymnast, Sasha. Why should you be surprised that I learn fast?"
"I'm not buying that innocent act, Payson. Stop working skills without me." He was half teasing and half severe. Payson refrained from pointing out that he was the one unwilling to work together. She didn't want to ruin her good-Sasha-day by forcing the issue.
Somehow, they had moved closer together during their banter. Payson wasn't sure who leaned in, or if it had been both of them, but the inches separating their mouths were now mere centimeters. Sasha's eyes were on fire, reflecting all of the passion and arousal that Payson had long felt. Finally she understood his distance over the past few months—he was trying to prevent this. Their breaths mingled together and Payson's eyes drifted shut, waiting for the kiss that she knew was coming. She had wanted this for so long.
She felt the change in the air as soon as he pulled away. When she opened her eyes, Sasha was standing apart from the beam, his body rigid and his back turned toward her with a studied avoidance. Payson recognized his stance immediately. It was the picture of a bad-Sasha-day.
"Damnit, Sasha!" she said, slamming her fist against the beam with a loud thwump. "Why do you do this?"
"What?" he yelled as he spun around to face her. His eyes were narrowed in anger, but at least he was looking at her now. "Why do I do what, Payson?"
"This!" She indicated the space between them, knowing that it would explain everything. "You complained that I do skills without you, but how are we supposed to work together when you won't come near me? Is it really so bad to be attracted to me?"
"I'm not attracted to you, Payson. You're a child," he sneered. The derision in his voice hurt, but she knew she was right. She had seen the lust in his eyes.
He took two steps back as Payson walked around the beam. She came to a halt in front of him, crossing her arms and looking him square in the eyes, and asked, "So you weren't about to kiss me?"
"No." It was a weak denial; he couldn't even come up with an excuse to explain away the moment by the beam. She knew she had him. He wasn't strong enough to turn her down right now.
She didn't lunge toward him this time. She would not give him the opportunity to explain this away by saying that she had surprised him. Instead, she crossed the distance between them slowly, giving him the opportunity to step away. When he didn't retreat, she placed her hands upon his shoulders for support, rose up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. For a heart-stopping moment he didn't respond, then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him.
Payson had never been kissed the way Sasha was kissing her now. Her first kiss with Nicky had been sweet and innocent, and her kisses with Max were full of desperation as they both imagined holding someone else. But this kiss, she was sure, was exactly how kissing should be. It was full of passion and desire and love. She could kiss Sasha forever.
It lasted only a few brief minutes. Far too soon Sasha was pushing her away, his face a steely mask of regret. It was clear in his eyes; he was rejecting her. He wouldn't deny that he loved her, but he would never accept her as an equal partner in a relationship.
Payson gathered together all of the pain that Sasha had ever caused her and used it to fuel her resolve. Putting on a cold façade, she said, "I don't care if you beat yourself up about this, Sasha, but stop taking it out on me. It's screwing with my training."
She held the act as she spun on her heel and strode out of the gym. She held it as she drove home. She held it as she sat through dinner with her family and brushed aside their concerns. She held it as she made her way to her bedroom and locked the door, and then she could pretend no longer. That was the first of the nights she spent crying.
It became a pattern for her. At night she would be wracked with sobs, giving into all of her pain, then the next morning she would gather together the shattered pieces of her heart and use them to form a mask of indifference. There were no more good-Sasha-days. They worked together like there was nothing wrong, but they never laughed, never smiled, and everyday Payson lost another piece of herself into the act. She thought she might hate him now.