A/N: I don't own 'Skins.'


The warm-up pool could provide a place of solace for only so long until someone decided she needed to get out of the building so the staff could close the building for the evening one final time. But while it did, all she could picture was the race, the exchange, her failure. Long, languid strokes and intermittent kicks propelled Emily up and down the lane, her eyes fixated on the black lane many, many meters below while her mind replayed the nightmare of a relay from earlier in the evening. She twisted her head, inhaled quickly through the side of her mouth, and ducked her head again as someone passed her in the lane headed the opposite direction. As she took another stroke, she processed that it wasn't just any swimmer warming down with her, but the most experienced member of the team and the anchor of their relay.

She glided into the wall and pulled herself snugly against the surface, leaning on her elbow as she pried her goggles away from her eyes. As she waited for Michelle to finish her lap, she idly spun her finger a few inches below the surface of the water, gradually picking up speed until a small vortex coalesced and she let the miniature whirlpool spin for a moment before disappearing.

The other woman returned with looping strokes and slowed, easing up to the tiles and mirroring Emily's position on the wall. She gave the younger girl a sympathetic look. "You know they'll still be waiting for you no matter how long you hide."

"I know. Just...not ready to face them yet." Emily turned so she could rest both elbows on the wall and lightly kick her feet further in the lane. "I swear, 'Chelle, I thought I was right on."

"Emily..." Michelle frowned and reached out to put a hand on her bicep. "It's over. It happened; nothing to be done about it now."

"That's not true. Not at all." She shook her head emphatically, staring up into the emptying stands as fans wound their way to the exits on the final night of swimming competition. "I won't let you down in Rio, Michelle. I promise."

"I'm not going," her teammate admitted quietly.

Emily slipped before catching herself and twisting to stare wide-eyed at Michelle. "What do you mean you're not going?"

"This is it for me. I haven't told anyone else, but a club in York offered me a coaching spot, and I'm taking it. This was my third Games, Em. You don't often get a fourth."

The younger girl could feel tears of shame sting the corners of your eyes. "And I disqualified you in your last race! 'Chelle, I'm so—" A lump formed in her throat and she tried to push off the wall and kick away in frustration, but her teammate refused to allow her to wallow. She squeezed her arm and pulled her into an awkward aquatic hug.

"Not at all. As much as I hate to admit it, we weren't going to medal. 'Sides, we've got a whole 'nother week of the Games to go and no more events." Emily turned to find a gleam in Michelle's eyes.

She attempted a tearful smile. "Party Village?"

"Party Village," Michelle agreed. "Now quit crying and finish up. We've got fit foreign athletes to find."

Emily laughed before ducking under the water quickly. As she resurfaced, Michelle was already a third of the way down the lane. Repositioning her goggles, Emily fell in behind her, taking her time with her last laps and trying to push down a smile.


The apartment door opened, unleashing a tidal wave of bass, synthesizers, and snares into the hallway. The party's host seemed to ride the wave; the bottle of tequila appropriately serving as his surfboard. "Emily! And you brought Katiekins the Unstoppable! My twins!"

Emily winced as James Cook squeezed her and her sister into a crushing hug. She peeked behind his head around to her sister who was trying not to gag at the distinct smell of the agave-based spirit. They shared an eye-roll and pushed away from him.

"Are we moving the party to the corridor, or are you going to let us in?" Katie challenged. She looked around disdainfully. "'Cause it seems a bit shit out here."

"Nah, come in! Come in!" He waved for them to follow him down the short entry hall towards the kitchen and living area. "There's a lass I want to introduce you to. Track-and-field from Belarus. Didn't even know that was a place...but I just know she—"

"Cook, I swear if you make a comment involving pole vaulting in any fashion I'm going to smash that bottle of tequila over your head."

He grinned wildly and thrust the bottle towards the older twin as he turned around, leaning against the island in the kitchen. "Or you could catch up?"

Katie smirked and extended her hand for the tequila, taking a healthy pull before wincing as she handed the bottle off to Emily. A wedge of lime arced through the air towards them. Wide-eyed, Katie caught it and quickly bit into it as Emily took her turn with the tequila. Katie narrowed her eyes at the girl sitting on the counter in the corner who was lobbing citrus fruit pieces around the room like they were artillery and the party was a battlefield of sorts. Leaving her sister's side, she weaved through several athletes she didn't recognize all clustered near the refrigerator and threw her piece of lime in the girl's direction.

"Are you mad? There's a reason I swim and don't play fucking softball; don't throw things at me, yeah?"

Effy snorted and poured them each other shot as their teammate changed the track at the impromptu DJ station in the corner of the living room. A cheer rose from several people (countered by some scattered groans) as the new track started blasting through the small apartment. Effy gestured for Katie to take her shot and raised hers.

"What'd you say we get so monumentally fucked we forget all about that shit relay today?"

Katie paused. It wasn't that Effy was making light of her sister's faux pas; not one of them swim a personal best in their fifty and they came up just a shade over a three seconds slower than the British record set three years earlier in Rome. Inwardly, though, Katie felt a pang of remorse. Just being able to stake claim to having one of the best times in the world would have been an achievement in front of the home crowd. The ignominy of a disqualification would hang over them like an ineluctable thunderstorm until they could establish a different legacy. But they couldn't do that tonight. Katie took a steadying breath and smiled. She clinked her glass to Effy's. "To getting monumentally fucked."

The bass dropped and two empty shot glasses hit the counter.

On the other side of the kitchen, Emily paused before taking her third shot and pivoted with a frown directed towards their host. Cook was leaning well into the personal space of the Eastern European woman trapped between him and the island. Perhaps 'trapped' wasn't accurate, Emily reconsidered as she was definitely returning a sloppy kiss with equal fervor.

"Cook! Doesn't she have, like, an event tomorrow?"

The two paused as the tall blonde woman looked at the English girl with a haughty look. "Is part of routine. He do me, I win."

Cook's eyebrows waggled insatiably. "You heard the woman, Emilio. If you'll 'scuse us, we've got ta practice her falls. Mattress work?"

"Da," she cooed. Cook whooped and took her by the hand, winding past Emily towards the bedroom.

"It's a twin bed harder than a park bench!" Emily said exasperatedly as Cook shut the door behind them. Moments later there was a girlish scream just audible over the pounding music. "Fucking hell."

In the opposite corner, Effy watched the proceedings inscrutably, then abruptly hopped off the counter. She pressed her fifth into Katie's arms and stalked into the living room. As Katie watched (she wished she could feel an ounce of shock, but after several years training and travelling with Effy, she wasn't sure anything the brunette did could shock her), a German butterflier said something Katie couldn't catch over the music and Effy settled herself onto his lap and immediately took his face in her hands and kissed him fiercely.

"Jesus, Effy," Katie muttered and took advantage of the liquor in her hand.

"It's Katie, right?"

She looked up to find a towering American backstroker with a beer in hand leaning casually against the island a couple feet away.

"So what if it is?"

He smirked. "Then Cook was underselling." She tossed a wedge of lime to him underhanded, which he caught. When she only poured one shot, his brow furrowed. "We're not doing shots then?"

Narrowing her eyes predatorily, Katie grinned ferally. "Oh no, we are. Me first."

Chuckling he stepped away from the island and gummed the lime as she downed the shot, meeting him halfway with a hand tugging him closer to suck the lime into her own mouth.

Grabbing Cook's abandoned tequila and wiping the rim with the hem of her shirt, Emily took a pull and made her way out to the balcony, shutting the glass door behind her to escape the music. Emily smiled softly upon finding, to her slight surprise, the balcony already occupied by somebody else.

"Too loud in there, Jay?"

Jonah Jeremiah Jones looked up from where he was sat in the corner, arms resting on his knees. He offered a hesitant wave. "Hi, Emily. It is rather obnoxious in there."

The girl looked back over her shoulder, unfazed—if slightly disappointed at how quickly it seemed to happen—finding her sister and Effy both lip-locked with foreign athletes. "Yes, it is. A bit."

JJ stood slowly and stepped over to rest his arms on the rail of the balcony, standing next to the shorter girl as they stared out over Olympic Village. She noted the three watches on his left wrist and smiled at the quirky habit he'd been following ever since their days as classmates in secondary school. Something in the darkness, at the edge of a pool of yellowish light cast by a lamp post, caught her eye.

"Jay, is...something moving down there?"

He turned and leaned over the railing, squinting to make out what the source of Emily's curiosity. Suddenly, a pair of people stumbled out of the shrubbery: a guy buckling his belt and a girl tugging at her shirt and running fingers through tousled hair. "It would appear they were copulating."

"You don't say," Emily replied dryly. She took a swig of tequila and winced. "Sorry for even noticing."

"If you don't mind my observing, I'm surprised you're not off with someone yourself. What happened to that gymnast..."

She rolled her eyes. "Svetlana decided I wasn't exciting enough. I found her in the lounge a couple nights ago with her tongue in some South American girl's throat."

"I'm sorry about that. If Cook and I need to—"

Emily laughed and put a steadying hand on his arm. "It's alright, JJ. There are, like, what a couple thousand women competing at the Games?"

"4,847," he stated instantly.

"Right. Point is, I'll manage."

They looked out over the Village, watching as small groups or pairs of athletes wandered around the paths, enjoying the London evening. Emily found herself enthralled by a small fountain near their building.

"You're thinking about the race," supplied JJ after a moment.

"Can you blame me? I disqualified us."

"You left 0.11 seconds before Effy touched the wall. It's a miracle they even noticed."

"Did you notice?"

He shrugged. "As manager, statistician, and videography coordinator it's my job to dissect all your races, Emily. But if I hadn't been zoomed in and watching, no probably not. The three of you will have more races, though."

Emily frowned and looked at JJ, who was blinking rapidly as his hands clenched nervously around the railing. "How long have you known about Michelle? JJ?"

"I...I overheard her talking to coach. It's interesting, isn't it? The two of them leaving the team together to go coach in York."

Emily felt like she'd been doused with a bucket of ice water. Trembling, she turned to find a stricken JJ staring down at her. "What did you just say, JJ?"

"I think I need to get a drink," he stammered.

She shook her head vehemently. "You're staying put right here. I'll get your bloody mango juice. Christ, coach is leaving too? Shit. Hold this." Emily stormed back inside, leaving JJ by himself on the balcony holding the tequila.

She slammed the refrigerator door shut, the half gallon of mango juice in hand, and turned to find Michelle just arriving to the party and smiling cheerily at her.

"Ems! You guys are already here! What do you say we—"

"Tell me you're not fucking him."

"What?" The older woman took a step back, fury roiling off the smaller girl. "Emily, what are you talking about?"

"Coach! Is that why you're quitting, then? So the two of you can shag without remorse?"

Katie stepped over to her sister's side after an apologetic kiss and a promise to her night's catch that she'd be back. "Emsy, what's wrong?"

"'Chelle decided she'd rather freestyle with Coach Chambers than swim freestyle with us."

Her twin whirled on their teammate, brown eyes flashing. "That right?"

"It's not like that!"

"Oh I think it is," retorted Katie. "So you can pretty much fuck off, now."

The door to the bedroom slammed open, revealing a haggard yet happy looking Cook. "Oi, this is a party; no fighting!" He slammed the door shut again. It opened briefly for him to poke his head out and add, pointing at one of his teammates, "But if it does, mate: video, yeah?"

The door slammed shut. Michelle, who hadn't turned around at his intrusion, made a disgusted face at the ashen expression sported by both twins. "He was naked wasn't he?"

"Yeah," they choked out in unison.

"Not terrifying enough to get me off the hook?"

"Not by a long shot," supplied Effy as she led the German by the hand down the entry hall and out the door. Michelle watched them go, baffled, and turned back to the twins.

"I'm sorry; it just happened."

"You know what just happened?" Katie spat. "You left this party, like, now."

"Emily?" Michelle turned to the younger twin hoping for some sympathy, but found none in betrayed brown eyes. Shoulders sagging in defeat, Michelle turned and followed Effy out of the party.

"I wasn't sure if something happened, so I—" JJ stopped himself as he innocently stumbled into the stunned and very unparty-like atmosphere of the kitchen. Music still thumped through the small apartment, but the energy associated with it was noticeably lacking. Emily extended the mango juice to him silently.

As he took the carton, she headed for the door as well. JJ frowned. "This was about Michelle, wasn't it?" Katie nodded and he muttered as an afterthought, "Bobbins."


A/N: I hope everyone is enjoying the incredible swimming (and all the other events) in Rio right now! If you're looking for something to do between events, or on commercial breaks...maybe read and review? Thanks! Take care!