Hello, all. This is my first Make It Or Break It fic, so I have a confession. I know practically nothing about gymnastics or ballet so please forgive me for any mistakes or liberties that I may take.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for Maddy.

Chapter 1: Iced Out

Sasha Belov sat in his rental car outside of a small, nondescript gym, trying to summon the courage to face what awaited him inside. He knew that it would not be pretty, that he was about to face insurmountable odds, but it was for a matter of utmost importance. It was not for himself that he had traveled the two thousand miles to get here, to this small, barely inhabited town in central Maine, and that was why he could not back down, why he could not simply return to Boulder. He could not, would not, let her down. Payson was an incredible gymnast, with a drive and determination that could not be rivaled, and he desperately wanted her to succeed, but he was unconvinced that he could bring her back to form by himself.

Sasha sighed. Best to just get it over with, he thought.

Adjusting his sunglasses, he pulled the door handle and unfolded himself from the car. He stretched to his full height, pleased to move freely after his drive from the airport, and once again focused on the building in front of him. It was truly a dump. There was no other word for it, really. The paint was peeling and the parking lot only contained his rental and a small, silver SUV that wasn't flashy or expensive, but instead fit in exactly with the other cars that he had seen on the road.

Taking a deep breath, Sasha trudged toward the red, double doors, praying that they wouldn't be locked. Pulling experimentally on the handle, Sasha was surprised when the door flew open, affording him a view of the lobby area as he walked inside. Despite the outer appearance, the reception area was quite nice. It wasn't nearly as professional or impressive as The Rock by any means, but it was most definitely a contradiction to what he had expected. There was a brown leather sofa against the wall and several framed posters of gymnasts adorned the beige walls. A secretary's desk occupied most of the area, but it was currently vacant, a cup of coffee lying forgotten upon the desktop.

Removing his sunglasses and hooking the earpiece into the pocket of his t-shirt, Sasha began walking down the hallway that led away from the lobby. He passed two doors labeled with faceplates designating them the girls and boys' locker rooms, and continued on to another set of red, double doors. Knowing that this had to be it, that what he had come for had to be behind these doors, he flexed his hand before placing it upon the door handle, opening it silently as he sneaked inside.

Maddy loved this time of the day. She loved the peacefulness of the gym after all the other gymnasts had left and it was just her, reveling in the silence and smell of her sanctuary. In fact, she gave it her best effort to arrive only after everyone had already gone for just that reason. The owner of the establishment, a friend of hers named Jim, had given her her own set of keys several years ago. After all, it was her generous contributions that kept the gym open in the first place.

She loved this gym because it allowed her a quiet place to think, a place where she could feel at home when she was troubled or upset. Currently, Maddy was lying atop the high bar, an almost impossible feat of balance, breathing deeply and contemplating what it was that made this gym smell so remarkably great. True, it smelled of vanilla air freshener, chalk, and dust, but it also reeked of sweat, the product of several years of using the same equipment. It was just one of life's many mysteries, she surmised.

"Um, excuse me?" she heard a British accent ask.

Completely absorbed in her own thoughts, Maddy had not heard anyone enter the gym. This explained why she jumped, gasped loudly, and promptly fell the approximate eight feet onto the mat, landing flat on her face with a loud grunt.

"Oh my God," the man with the accent gushed, "are you all right?"

Maddy felt strong hands appear out of nowhere and attempt to keep her still. Ignoring the man's attempts, Maddy brought a hand to her forehead to brush her red hair from her face, pushing herself into a kneeling position with the other.

Squinting as she rubbed her head, Maddy responded with a sarcastic, "Peachy."

"Maybe it's best that you don't move," the man continued, hands fluttering about her as he tried to figure out what he should do.

"Nah," Maddy said, with a flick of her hand to show that it was no big deal, "I'm all right. Trust me, I've taken worse falls."

Shaking her head once, Maddy pushed herself to her feet and futilely brushed at the white chalk that had rubbed off onto the front of her hooded sweatshirt and shorts. She laughed and shrugged, before turning back around to face the man who had surprised her so thoroughly, only to be met with an even greater shock than before.

Before she could say anything, the man spoke, "Miss Reynolds?" he asked, then held out a hand. "My name is—"

"I know quite well who you are," Maddy interrupted him.

An anger and a coldness seeped into her voice and contorted her face into a less than friendly expression. She folded her arms across her chest and exhaled loudly, not entirely accepting that he was here, that he had found her.

Irritably, she continued, "I don't know how you found me, Mr. Belov, frankly I don't much care, but you can just turn right around and leave the same way you came. Thank you kindly." Maddy gestured with her right hand toward the double doors and flashed him a cold, insincere smile, effectively dismissing him as she turned her back before he could answer her.

She might have seemed cool and collected on the outside, but inside, Maddy's thoughts were roiling and her insides were cramping, a cold sweat breaking out over her body. How the hell had he found her? She had gone several years without anyone being able to locate her and now he just showed up out of the blue? Why the heck was Sasha Belov, four-time Olympic gold medalist, tracking her down anyway?

It wasn't for any good reason, Maddy told herself. No, he just wanted what everyone else wanted from her, which was usually to ask her annoying questions or to persuade her to coach. Well, if he thought that he could just waltz in here and charm her with his suave British charm, he was sadly mistaken.

"Miss Reynolds," she heard Sasha insistently call after her.

"Uh-uh," Maddy said as she spun back to face him. "I just told you that I don't care why you're here. All I care about is that you take yourself back to wherever you came from."

"I just want to talk to you," he pleaded, holding his hands before him as if in surrender. "I just came to discuss a proposition. Please, just hear me out."

"No," Maddy said simply.

His expression was so confused and lost that Maddy almost laughed aloud. He had honestly thought that she would want to hear what he had come to say. Perhaps he thought that she would be wowed with his sudden appearance and humbled by his offer. Well, he had another thing coming.

Undaunted, Sasha continued, "I want you to come and coach." He paused, as if waiting for her to say something, but when she just stared blankly back at him he elaborated, "With me. At The Rock."

Again, Maddy answered with a monosyllable, "No."

Frustrated, Sasha rubbed his face roughly with one hand, placing the other on his hip as he sighed heavily. "Well, why not?" he asked irritably.

Keeping her anger from her face, Maddy responded in a voice that shook with her emotion, "I've never coached before in my life. Why would you come to me? Why ask me?"

"Because I need help and you're the only one who can give it to me," Sasha replied honestly.

Maddy was actually surprised by his answer. He needed her help? That was definitely a new one. Everyone else who had ever offered her a coaching position had never given her such a reason. Instead, most people had the audacity to act as if they were doing her a favor, as if she ought to bow and scrape at their feet for a job. Sasha's response was refreshing and, despite her best efforts, Maddy felt honored. Still, it wasn't enough to change her stubborn mind, though she spoke to him more politely now that she could see just how upset he was. He truly seemed as if he was at his wit's end and Maddy took pity on him.

"Look, Mr. Belov," she began, "I appreciate you coming here. I appreciate your offer."

Sasha looked up from the ground with undisguised hope in his eyes. "But?" he asked.

"But," she continued, "I'm just not interested in coaching."

Sasha nodded his head resignedly, staring back down at the floor. A thoughtful expression came over his face and Maddy braced herself for the most awkward question of all and she was not disappointed. "But why?" he asked. "You were an excellent gymnast. Why did you never consider coaching?"

For the first time in years, Maddy pondered giving him the truth, but quickly discounted it. She decided to go with a half-truth. "I've cut gymnastics out of my life, Mr. Belov. I haven't competed in years nor have I even watched a competition in that time."

"Yet you spend your free time in a gym?" Sasha asked with his eyebrows raised, gesturing around at the equipment, aggravation creeping into his voice.

His response irritated Maddy and she quickly became angry again. "The gymnastics community nearly ruined my life. So yes, I cut it out, but I did not cut out gymnastics. My problem was with the people, the politics, and the media. It had nothing to do with the sport." She paused, affection entering her voice as she continued, "When I was a kid, I loved this," she gestured around her. "I loved coming to the gym, I loved learning new skills. As I got older, all of that changed. It became a job, a career…a burden. It became only about the medals and the scores." Maddy stopped and glared back at Sasha. "I came to hate it. That's why I got out. That's why I won't coach. I won't see it become unbearable for another young gymnast. I will not make that mistake again."

Sasha widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest, looking like the cat that had eaten the canary. "Not even for Payson Keeler?" he asked, bemusedly.

Maddy stared at him blankly. "Who?" she asked with an eye roll.

Sasha was shocked, "What do you—what do you mean who? Payson Keeler," he repeated as if that would solve the problem. "She was the best gymnast in the country last year."

Exhaling heavily, Maddy explained, "I told you, Mr. Belov. I don't follow gymnastics anymore."

"Well, yeah, you said that—" he conceded.

"But you didn't believe me?" Maddy interrupted. "Believe it this time. I don't know who this Payson Keeler is. I don't care who this Payson Keeler is. My answer remains the same: I will not coach."

"She's different," Sasha said. "She was the quintessential power gymnast until she suffered a career-ending spinal fracture."

"Then what could I possibly do?" Maddy asked, frustrated. He wouldn't take a hint!

"She underwent an experimental surgery and now she's back," Sasha began. "But, in her time off, she went through a growth spurt—"

"—And now she can no longer be a power gymnast," Maddy finished, nodding her head. "That's why you came to me," she stated.

Sasha nodded. "I need someone to teach her to be an artistic gymnast and you were the first person who came to mind. I'm not sure that I can coach her the way that she must be coached. I just don't know enough about that variant. She could use someone who's been there, someone who's performed it."

Maddy suddenly caught herself. He thought that he was actually convincing her! And yes, maybe for a moment, she had started to consider it again, but memories flashed through her mind that hardened her resolve and ignited her stubbornness.

"It's a moving story, Mr. Belov," she started, "But find someone else."

She walked past him without looking up and held open the door in order to end the conversation. She saw that he had no intention of leaving so she said, "The gym is closed, Mr. Belov. I have to ask you to leave."

Sasha's shoulders slumped and Maddy knew that he had been defeated. He nodded despairingly and began walking out the door, but he stopped just before he passed her. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" he asked as a last measure.

Maddy looked at the floor and answered, "Afraid not."

Sasha sighed. "I knew this was a long shot anyway," he admitted.

Maddy didn't respond, but let the door close behind them as she walked him to the lobby. Once there, she opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a set of keys before holding open the gym's front door for him. He stood next to the desk and pulled an envelope from his back pocket. He placed it upon the desk and said, "In case you change your mind."

He walked toward her and stepped out of the gym, turning back to look at her. For the first time, Maddy actually allowed herself to study Sasha Belov. He had been one of her favorite competitors back when she was a teenager, but she had never actually met him. He was older now, probably about early-thirties, and his chin was covered in a light, fair stubble that was both unkempt and dangerously attractive. His fair hair was in disarray, as if he had run his fingers through it many times earlier in the day, and his body was still in incredible shape for a retired gymnast. She met his eyes briefly and was mesmerized by their color. They were a pale, ice blue that would normally have looked cold and unfriendly, but in Sasha Belov's face they could be lively and warm. At the moment, however, only disappointment and surrender echoed in their depths.

Maddy felt a twinge of remorse for not being able to help him, to ease some of his burden, but she could not break the promise that she had made to herself all those years ago. She had severed ties with the gymnastics world and, for her own sanity, it must remain that way.

Therefore, she forced herself to reply nonchalantly, "Not likely," before she closed the door in Sasha Belov's beautiful face.

Hmm. So many questions, but there will be a few answers in the next chapter. So I am clearly not following the plot line closely as Sasha is looking for some help to coach Payson to be an artistic gymnast.

Don't hate Maddy too much, she has a lot of issues. To be explained later...

Thanks for reading!