A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, author/story alerts and favorites. I can't believe how positive the response has been for this story. I hope you all continue to enjoy it. This chapter is more exposition; next chapter will have more of Nicky's view on this. Please continue to review; I love reading what everyone has to say, and it really makes my day.

They're walking through the house, pondering on Payson and Ike's recent visit, and figuring they need to know the way around this mansion after Nicky got lost trying to find a bathroom.

"What do we know?" Nicky asks, although Kaylie knows it's a rhetorical question. He'll start listing the answer to that in a minute. Wait—how does she know this again? "We know that we have a brain injury from 2010 and when we re-injured the same part of our brain yesterday, we forgot everything that happened between 2010 and now." How did she know?

"Do you get the feeling you know what I'm going to do?" she inserts quietly before he can list the next clue they've gathered. "Like... instinctively?"

They stop midway through a long, sunlight-bathed hallway in the second floor, lined with all sorts of gymnastics-related pictures of them. She tries not to look too hard at the ones that look like they're from the Olympics, because she knows she'll probably faint with excitement. They can focus on that later. For now, she glances at one in which she's midair after what she guesses is a Yurchenko on the vault, possibly in some year's Nationals competition.

"Yes." Nicky clears his throat because he sounds so raw suddenly. With this, he now has her full attention, and she watches him apprehensively. "Yes. And you know what's odd? Being close to you used to kind of... terrify me." He turns to her, and as he takes two steps closer to her, she feels herself back up against the wall. She wants to ask him what he's doing, but the words won't leave her and all she can manage is a confused frown. The proximity knocks the wind out of her lungs. "See? This doesn't scare me."

"Oh, it doesn't?" she squeaks.

However firmly he made his statement, it seems to waver when his gaze lingers on her for a long moment. It gives her an ill-advised opportunity to take a closer look at him. His eyes are still bright and she can see the beginning of his chest muscles peeking from his shirt. His hair is still hopelessly messy, and she has a strong hunch that she touches it all the time. She wants to touch it now. Or touch any part of his body, really, it's not important, as long as—stop it, Kaylie. She shakes her head clear.

Nicky lowers his eyes and she isn't sure whether he's looking at her body or the painfully small distance between them. "No, maybe it makes me a little nervous, but I'm..." then he trails off with a wince, and looks to the side, raising a hand to his temple. Two seconds later he recovers, and steps away from her. He clears his throat again, and Kaylie remains frozen in place. What's going on? "I think I remembered something." She raises her eyebrows expectantly. "We started dating before the Olympics."

"How early?"

"I don't know. We were in an elevator in a hotel in London, and there was a poster of us, with a subtitle saying something about the National champions and the American hope for gold, or something, and you asked me whether I was finally going to invest in some hair gel."

They trade smiles, despite of their earlier tension. "That sounds like something I'd say."

"Yeah. And then..." He hesitates. She doesn't want to press him for more details, but she's so curious she wants to punch the information out of him. "I kind of pressed the emergency button and... we..."

"Don't tell me we had sex in the elevator," Kaylie gasps. That would have been so classless of her.

He's alarmed by the suggestion. "No! Not that. We... kissed."

Her shoulders sag with relief, and she ignores the blood that rushed to her face. "Okay. So now we know sometime between 2010 and 2012, we started dating. I wonder when we actually got married..." Pursing her lips, she pushes herself gently off the wall she was still leaning on, and continues to walk down the hallway, when a flash of glistening gold catches her attention. Once again breathless, Kaylie impulsively grabs Nicky's hand and drags him inside of a large room filled with shelves, stands, and frames with uncountable trophies, medals, plaques, and every imaginable form of award she can think of.

"Holy crap. Our trophy room looks like that treasure cave from that Indiana Jones movie," Nicky comments, squeezing her hand before letting it go and walking to a glass box inside which are medals that upon closer examination, Kaylie finds are from the Olympics. There are seven gold medals, three silver, and two bronze... she's struck with an idea, and pulls Nicky out of the room, down the hallway to their bedroom.

Once inside, she hurriedly sits in front of a screen that's not large enough to be a TV, which she had previously deduced is probably a computer from 2014. There's no keyboard, no CPU... so she touches the screen and is welcomed to a slightly revamped Google homepage. Inwardly grinning at her ingenuity, she types, on a keyboard that emerged on the side of the screen, "2012 olympics kaylie nicky russo." Enter.

Instantly, the screen is filled with websites and pictures of their accomplishments, with headlines all centered on their astounding victories, and something about Nicky's surprise announcement at the men's medals ceremony. She clicks on a YouTube video link, and they are taken to a video titled "Kaylie Cruz – Event finals Olympics 2012." The next 10 minutes are enough to render her completely speechless and immobile. She won gold on beam, with leaps, jumps and saltos she's only attempted a few times, topped by a flawless 2 ½ twisting dismount whose landing was textbook perfect. Watching herself perform all this was surreal; she felt as though she were in a hazy dream. Her second gold was for her floor routine, in which all she could think about was how she managed to stick every single landing on every immensely difficult tumble—she planted her feet on the ground each time, and they didn't budge. She also won a silver on uneven bars and a bronze on vault, both exercises she never thought she'd once be even remotely skilled enough in to win an Olympic medal.

At the conclusion of the video, she finds that her mouth is incredibly dry and there's a bead of sweat that has formed on her forehead, which she quickly wipes away. Then she remembers Nicky is still behind her. Immediately, she clicks on a related link to a video of his own performances during the finals, but she isn't prepared to have yet another breathing problem watching him.

Nicky's power, precision, and speed are awe-inspiring. His movements on the pommel horse are so well-controlled and incredibly fast that Kaylie has to take a second look at the Nicky beside her, who is entranced by what he's seeing. He not only won gold on the horse, but also on the rings and the horizontal bars, with silvers on vault and parallel bars, and a bronze on floor.

An even bigger surprise is revealed when he gingerly presses his finger on another link, entitled "Kaylie and Nicky Russo win all-around."

Oh my God. They won the all-around gold. Oh my God. Her heart was going to give out on her.

The video is not what they expect, however; instead of showing their performances, it's actually a news segment from a gossip cable TV channel. There are numerous pictures of them on red carpets, as well as many candids of them in outings around town and their interactions in training sessions. Kaylie looks at the date—it was posted in August 2012, just after the Olympics. She brings her attention to the voice narrating the video.

"Gymnastics golden duo Nicky Russo and Kaylie Cruz, after snagging the prestigious all-around gold medals last month at the Summer Olympics, have announced their engagement. The couple first revealed their relationship at the Olympics, amidst rumors of secret meetings at the Olympic village."

There's what looks to be a candid, grainy photo of them leaning against a handrail, completely attired in US National Team uniforms. And of course they have sneaky, flirty smiles that understandably would have led the entire nation to think they were an item. Frankly, it's freaking her out how they don't look uncomfortable or... unhappy or whatever.

Crap. They look so couply.

Kaylie presses the mute button, unwilling to see or hear any more. "This has nothing to do with the Olympics."

"How'd they get so many pictures of us?" Nicky asks, looking genuinely fascinated by each picture in the slide show.

"Does that matter?" she huffs impatiently. "I wanted to see our performances, not..." then she pauses. "We revealed our relationship at the Olympics. How does a couple reveal their relationship in the middle of the Olympics?" The level of unprofessionalism astounds her, but Nicky ignores it completely and presses the unmute button.

"Insiders reveal the two first met while training together in Boulder, Colorado, during their teenage years. When asked about Nicky Russo, Kaylie Cruz has expressed admiration for her fellow teammember in the past." There was then a shot of her being interviewed in front of a large banner for Nationals in 2011. "Ms. Cruz, what do you think about Nicky Russo, the men's champion?"

The camera zoomed in on her face, and although Kaylie wants to notice how sweaty she still looked, or how her hair isn't perfectly in place as usual, all she can look at is the blush in her cheeks. Of course, maybe people thought all the blood that rushed to her face was from physical exertion, but Kaylie knows herself, and can read through her own miniscule smirk; she can tell she was hiding a secret. "Nicky Russo is the most skilled gymnast I have ever seen. He makes it look easy. I think he deserved that medal and I'm very happy he will be in the National team when we all go to London."

"Am I really the most skilled gymnast you've ever seen?" Nicky's voice breaks through her horrified reverie and she turns to him, still thinking about what she's seen. His sly, smug grin manages to melt her tense muscles. "I never knew."

"I like seeing your ego in display like this," she jabs with a smile. "It makes me feel in 2010 again." Kaylie presses her finger on another link, entitled "Nicky Russo interview 2013." She chuckles in the second it takes for the video to load. "I have a feeling this will be a good one..."

"Nicky Russo, you are once again the men's national champion in gymnastics. How does that feel?"

"It feels great. I really have no words to describe what I'm feeling. I just know I'm very happy."

"How was having your wife Kaylie Cruz rooting for you, and have you considered retiring, as she did?"

Kaylie shrieks. For five long seconds.

"OH MY GOD I RETIRED!" She's so loud that Nicky actually winces and she has a fleeting thought that maybe she shattered something, or the neighbors are going to call the cops.

Nicky's mouth hangs agape while they stare at each other with matching flabbergasted expressions.

"Kaylie is... wonderful. Having her nearby was definitely a boost for me. Her support makes my career possible. I'm incredibly proud of all she's accomplished after her retirement from gymnastics. I don't think I'm ready yet to stop, but I have considered retiring, yes."

Neither of them are looking at the screen, until Nicky wordlessly reaches behind her and presses a button that silences the video.

"I retired," Kaylie whispers. "I can't even remember what it felt like to win in the Olympics, and I'll never find out..."

"Maybe we'll remember it," Nicky proposes weakly.

"Or maybe we won't!" she exclaims, and stands up from her chair to pace laps around their room. "If I retired, then why is Payson my coach? What is she coaching me for? Am I making a comeback? I can't believe I retired. But that would explain the fact that I've grown two inches, and my boobs are actually kind of big now—shut up, I've seen you looking at them—and also, Ike said only you were training for Nationals. But then, wouldn't he know that I was making a comeback? Unless my comeback is not in this Nationals; maybe it's for next year. But next year I'll be 21, and I can't think of any gymnasts that retired and then started to compete again at that age. But maybe—"

"Kaylie, stop." Nicky places a steadying hand on her shoulder and that effectively fizzles out her hyper-active anxiety. "We'll figure this out. Give yourself some time. We don't know what's going on in our lives yet, but we'll find out. It hasn't even been a whole day since we woke up in this new life."

Something in his tone is incredibly soothing, and his warm touch makes her entire arm tingle. She sighs and sits down again, glancing out the window and noticing that it's already getting dark.

"Do you think we can take a walk?" she suggests in a mumble. "Our yard is like, enormous."

He nods his agreement and they head out, while Kaylie wonders if she'll wake up tomorrow and find out this was all a horrible dream. As they descend the stairs, Nicky suddenly grabs her hand and pulls her down to a crouch.

"What are you doin—"

He shushes her and silently motions her to stay put. Stealthily, he shuffles down the staircase and grabs a small but heavy-looking statue from one of their antique tables. "Who's there?" he barked, as Kaylie held her breath and realized she was biting her nails.

"Mr. Russo, I am sorry if I startled you," says a small, shrewd woman who looks to be in her late thirties, and is calmly emerging from the shadows. Why she's so calm when Nicky is threateningly holding a statue above his shoulder is beyond Kaylie's guess. "I was just tidying up some last things before retiring to my quarters."

"You're... our... maid," Nicky deduces haltingly, and Kaylie slowly stands up to join him in their large living room.

Kaylie can't think of anything she could possibly say to convince this woman that her employers haven't lost their minds. "Hi. We were just... we know you're our maid."

"Yeah. We know. I was just saying it. Like always." Nicky discreetly returns the statue to its place and smiles at the woman, embarrassed.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go to my quarters?"

Kaylie wants to ask where her quarters are, and if she saw them splitting their heads open yesterday, but instead, she shakes her head with a tight, tense smile.

"We're just going for a walk," Nicky explains helpfully, probably hoping to repair the damage he's done by almost hitting her over the head with a statue. "We'll be back... in a few. Minutes."

"Not outside, I hope?" she asks, the small lines around her mouth accentuating her warm, if slightly confused smile.

"Uh..." Kaylie draws a blank. Yes, they're going outside. Outside the house. Did she mean outside their property? What's outside their gates? Is it like a movie, where a virus has been let loose in the world and now everyone is a flesh-eating zombie?

"No, of course not. Just a walk," Nicky assures easily. Tracking down her thought process and how it wandered off into sci-fi territory in a second, Kaylie has never felt more like a geek in her life. Why can't she be cool and composed like Nicky?

Ten minutes later they're running back inside.

"What the hell!" Kaylie is panting with the effort it took to run a panic-stricken mile and a half, which is way more demanding than her usual ten mile daily jog. Nicky stomps his way back to the house, too, having stayed behind to curse their followers out and also to lock their gates.

"Paparazzi," he breathes out with disgust. "What are we? Are we a big deal?"

How could they be a big deal? Hasn't it been two years since they won the Olympics? "Do you think it was this bad for Austin Tucker?"

"I don't know Austin Tucker."

"Me nei—" Kaylie begins to say, but the high-pitched whine inside her head is back and she winces.

"I can't just hang out with you, Austin. We broke up less than a week ago."

"That seems like enough time to me." His sly smile and the scheming glint in his eye tell her that he's up to something. As always. "I just want to make sure we'll be good friends after this. We are friends, aren't we? Friends that can maintain self-control?"

"You know, last time you used that line we ended up making out in that closet by the pommel horse. What are you aiming at, really? We're not getting back together."

"Oh, that's the last thing in my mind. I'm not even attracted to you anymore."

"So I guess the staring has been your way of showing me that you've moved on?"

"And getting caught sleeping over at Nicky Russo's house is yours?"

Kaylie opens her eyes and meets Nicky's expectant gaze. As she interprets her latest flashback, she's instantly sickened. Oh my God... she used to date Austin Tucker, the 2008 Olympic champion. Now she knows she definitely has a thing for gymnasts...

"So...?" Right. Nicky is understandably curious about what she's remembered. But Kaylie has to be smart about this... the timing doesn't feel right and come on—that bit of conversation isn't enough to convince her that she has to tell Nicky about her possible previous relationship with Tucker. Third, why does she have to report everything to him anyway?

"Oh, it was some random image..." She clears her throat pointedly and begins to climb the stairs. "I still don't get why we have paparazzi following us. Does this happen every time we step out?"

"I guess so," Nicky shrugs. "Maybe that's what our maid meant when she gave us that look after we told her we were going outside."

They've arrived in their bedroom, and when her eyes survey the impossibly inviting bed, Kaylie is reminded of how late it is, and how exhausting the day has been. When she turns to look at Nicky, he's not sharing her enthusiasm about the bed, and she quickly remembers that less than 24 hours ago, they were sleeping there together. As a married couple. Almost nude.

Suddenly, she isn't very much at ease either.

"I'm tired. I'll take that room by the trophy room," he mumbles uncomfortably.

Kaylie avoids his eyes. "Right. It has a nice view."

"Absolutely. I liked the view, too. And the bathroom seemed pretty big."

"Oh, yes. Very large. Love the decorations."

"Great colors."

With that, Nicky practically runs out of the bedroom and Kaylie is left to stare at the imaginary dust cloud he left behind in his hurry to get away from her.

Granted, she doesn't want to sleep with him, either, but she wasn't kicking him out. So he could have at least pretended to be somewhat disappointed that he wouldn't be sleeping with his wife—

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING, Kaylie snaps.

Quickly, she showers, brushes her teeth, and settles into bed, careful to think about anything except Nicky. Because it seems that she can handle having forgotten four years worth of her life, and she can handle the fact that she doesn't even know whether her parents are still together, or what became of her brother. The only thing she cannot handle is Nicky.