Chuck Versus Thin Ice
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another.
A/N: There is no greater pleasure than watching people guess and try to guess at who your cliffhanger means at the end of the chapter. And the yelling about shitty Jill. (God, she's so shitty. SO SHITTY.) No greater pleasure. ...though, Chuck and Sarah might disagree with me. Hahahahahaha (run away laughing)
Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I don't own the characters in this show.
Sarah watched as Chuck spun around to face her from where he was sitting on the couch. There was a small smile on his face that immediately crumbled into confusion. "Wha—?"
His brother-in-law immediately held up his hands and started waving them around in the air in front of him, sticking up fingers, putting them down, then sticking up different fingers, purposely being confusing. "Okay, bro, how many fingers am I holding up?"
She followed him as he rounded the couch to sit on the coffee table in front of Chuck. His beaming grin dimmed a bit and he cleared his throat. "Sorry, uh…joke from my EMT days."
"What are you doing here?" Chuck asked, then.
"Well, you fell out of bed and took a hit to the head, little guy," Devon said, scooting closer and reaching around his brother-in-law to start feeling under his hair at the back of his head. "Oh boy, a little bit of a bump there, huh?"
"I'm twenty-seven years old, Awesome."Devon cleared his throat and sobered up a bit. "Sorry. I'm still shaking off the sleep and my last few patients were kids."
Chuck seemed satisfied enough with what Devon told him so Sarah didn't feel it necessary to say more than just a simple, "I figured a professional should at least make sure you don't have a concussion."
"Oh. Makes sense."
What she didn't say was that she'd been on the verge of getting one of the actual medics from the medical building on the campus to come up and take a look at Chuck. She'd been that shaken up by what had happened. It was a combination of being woken up so suddenly and the sound of him falling, on top of seeing him sprawled on the floor looking pretty dazed for a bit there, unaware of his surroundings. She'd been legitimately terrified. Even when she got her heart to stop hammering against her chest, when she saw there wasn't blood everywhere, when she saw he was alert, and he was talking just fine and even able to stand up without swaying or seeming dizzy, she felt the need to make sure he didn't have a concussion. She knew what could happen if those went unheeded.
But then she'd stopped herself halfway out of the door of the building, seeing the flurry of snow outside. She had the sudden realization that the official medical personnel had to keep records, and they had to report situations like this to coaches, U.S. personnel, Olympic officials, et cetera.
Chuck wouldn't appreciate it if this got them disqualified or the tie breaker was cancelled and China given the last spot in the semis, or even if the tie breaker was postponed, or any number of things that might happen if officials found out that he'd injured his head in some way. And she didn't want any of that, either, after all of the work they'd put into getting this far.
She'd remembered then as she walked back into the lobby that Chuck had talked about how Ellie and Devon had met in medical school. She couldn't wake Ellie up and bring her all the way over here from where she and the other alpine skiers were staying outside of the Olympic Village. But she knew Devon was housed here with his cross-country teammates.
Silently thanking Ellie for making sure she put both of their numbers in her cell, Sarah pulled Devon's number up and she'd called him. She'd told him the situation and he'd said to meet him at his room with some ice. He'd emerged from his room, tiptoeing, with a small medical kit in hand, giving her a sleepy side hug and a chipper, "Take me to my clumsy patient."
Now here she was handing the cross-country skier slash doctor (maybe?) the bag of ice she'd retrieved from the market and he was feeling around the back of Chuck's head.
"That doesn't feel too bad. Usual bump ya get when you knock your noggin'. What'd you hit it on, the floor?"
"Uh, I think one of the handles on the nightstand next to the bed. Th-the drawer handle."
Sarah and Devon winced together and she felt a pang of sympathy. He looked so tired and embarrassed, she wanted to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder or run her fingers through his hair. She'd noticed he liked when she did that. The other night when they'd been watching TV together after their match, he'd put his head on her chest and she'd unconsciously reached up to feel his soft curls between her fingers; he'd made a soft humming sound in his chest. The grown human male equivalent of a purr, perhaps.
She kept her hands at her sides now.
"I'm gonna do a concussion check just to make sure, bro."
"Yup."
"Where are you right now?"
Chuck gave her a flat look that nearly made her burst into laughter it was so much like the one she'd seen on his sister's face a few times now. "I'm in my apartment in the Olympic Village in PyeongChang, South Korea."
"Well done! Tell me your full name, now."
"Charles Irving Bartowski."
"Irving, huh?" Sarah interrupted. "Interesting."
Chuck frowned a bit. "My dad was a big fan of nineteen-fifties B-movie horror flicks, especially the film scores—you know, the music. Irving Gertz did the score for my dad's favorite, Curse of the Undead."
She giggled a bit, and then she realized that was the first time he'd ever said anything about his parents, and she found herself wondering about his and Ellie's parents for the first time since she met him. "It doesn't surprise me that you're named after a B-movie horror flick's film composer."
"Just the middle name."
"Did you lose consciousness at all when you hit your head?" Devon cut in before she could continue the conversation.
"No, I don't think so…uh…" His brother-in-law had leaned in close, then gestured to the nearby lamp. Sarah went and turned it on for him and he smiled his thanks. "No, I didn't lose consciousness. Hitting my head is what woke me up."
"Good, good. I mean, not good that you hit your head, but good that you stayed conscious. Any headache or a feeling of pressure? Like something is squeezing your brain?"
Chuck narrowed his eyes. "No. Just the pain from the knot on my head back there."
"Are you dizzy? Woozy?"
"No."
"Any nausea?"
"Nope."
"Okay, I'm gonna just check your pupils."Devon got up and sat next to Chuck, going into the med kit he'd brought with him and pulling a little wand of some sort out of it, then he turned the tip and a light beamed out of it. He shined it in Chuck's eye, then switched to the other eye. Then he put the flashlight away, grabbed the ice and put it on Chuck's head. "Hold that. You don't have a concussion even though I feel a bit of a cut back there with the bruise. But if you keep icing it, you can at least get the swelling to go down a bit."
"This isn't gonna affect our match tomorrow, is it?" Chuck asked, his gaze following his sister's husband as the man stood up from the couch to his full height. "It's the tie breaker. We win that and we go to the semis. I'd really like to be able to do that."
"Nah, your brain is fine." He paused. "I mean, it's the same as it was before you hit your head, so maybe not fine per se."
"Shut up, asshole," her partner chuckled, smacking Devon's shoulder with one of the pillows.
Devon laughed and came around the back of the couch, leaning over and checking the back of Chuck's head with his flashlight, then. "It doesn't seem like the skin is broken, but I felt something else back there and wanna check just in case. Sarah, can you do me a favor?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Can you get a washcloth and wet it with warm water? I just wanna clean back here to make sure there's no blood or anything."
"I don't think I'm bleeding," Chuck Sarah was already walking through their bedroom to the bathroom. She grabbed an unused cloth and turned on the water, having to wait a bit for it to warm up. She wet the cloth, wrung it out, wet it again, and wrung it out one last time, before turning off the water and walking back through to where she'd left Chuck and Devon.
"—So I get the gold medal around my neck, and I'm just, like, full of pride, right? And I turn to smile at Sarah, and it's not Sarah. It's Jill."
"HER? Ewww, that's gross."
"Right? What the hell kind of fucked up sh—Oh, hi Sarah."
She'd since come around to hand Devon the cloth.
"Hi. Who's Jill?"
"Ummmmmmmmmmm. That's—I mean—Uh, she—Um."
Devon did a double take, then gaped down at Chuck, and gaped back up at her. "What? Seriously, bro? You haven't told Sarah about Jill?"
Chuck frowned darkly, but when he tried to turn his head to direct that frown at his brother-in-law, Devon caught his head in his fingers and forced him to stay facing straight ahead. "Remember how Ellie made me promise that I wouldn't go blabbing about Jill to people anymore?"
"Yeah, but c'mon, bro. That was just for girls you're dating. You and Sarah aren't dating!" He nudged the back of Chuck's shoulder and shared an amused look with Sarah.
Her mind was going in a million different directions. Obviously this was a woman Chuck had dated before, someone Chuck didn't like talking about apparently. But obviously it was a big deal at one time, if not still, considering his sister had to verbally make him promise not to talk about this Jill person. And then, of course, Devon's insistence about the rule only applying to women Chuck was dating. Nobody knew what she and Chuck had just been doing a few hours earlier. What kept happening. What they actively kept doing.
She felt bad for Chuck. The poor guy had a look on his face that clearly read, Somebody please kill me now.
"She, like, tore Chuck's heart out of his chest and slammed it onto the ground and then basically hit it with a baseball bat over and over and over," Devon said, prodding at the back of Chuck's head with the cloth.
"Well, thank you for that, Awesome."
"What? It's true. She's a rotten-souled pestilence that's been doused in crap and lit on fire. We're all agreed on that, but hey, it's been a few years now and you're totally over her." Devon shrugged, rolling his eyes to Sarah without Chuck knowing since the blond skier was still standing behind him.
Chuck looked up at her then, lifting a finger and gesturing over his shoulder at Devon. "That—What he says is true. For the record. That whole mess is done with. One hundred percent. It's a part of my life that's suuuper over." He cleared his throat, then, obviously not wanting to go too overboard with his brother-in-law in the room.
"I believe you," she said, and they exchanged a quick look. His lips spread into a slow, warm smile. It was sweet, how hard he was working to reassure her, but it wasn't necessary. Granted, if he was dreaming about this Jill woman, and if she apparently had that much of an effect on him, Sarah was pretty curious about her. She couldn't help it.
"Ah yeah, just a biiiit of blood, but it's dry. Means it's already stopped bleeding. Probably just a small cut. No biggie. I'm gonna rinse this real quick and finish cleaning you up and you should be good, bro," Devon said, and he pulled back to go through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
Sarah sat on the table in front of Chuck and glanced over to where Devon disappeared to. She waited for the sound of the sink running before she reached over and threaded her fingers with Chuck's. "How're you feeling?"
"Mortified."
She giggled, shaking her head. "Don't be. It's actually kinda reassuring to know I'm not the only one with a bit of baggage." She paused. "Your head, though. S'it okay?"
"Oh." He shrugged, then reached up to prod it and winced. "I mean, it hurts the way you'd imagine it might. But I'll survive."
"Yes, please. I don't know where I'm gonna get another partner by, like, eight hours from now." She stuck her tongue through her teeth and wrinkled her nose, earning a beautiful grin that felt like it lit up the whole room.
"Well, Bryce is in PyeongChang still."
She glared at him then, the nice moment basically murdered by his big mouth, and before he could backtrack the way she could tell he was about to, Devon marched back into the room.A few minutes later, he finally grabbed his med kit and moved to the door to leave. He was a little different. Tense, almost. Fidgety. Maybe he could feel the tension in the room when he came back in, or something.
They both thanked him profusely and Chuck apologized for his clumsiness waking him up in the middle of the night. Devon brushed him off, gave them a much too large grin, and half ran away.
She chalked it up to what she'd thought before and shut the door, not bothering to think anything more about it and instead turning to face Chuck with her hands on her hips. "As for you…"
Chuck winced. "I apologize so hard," he said immediately. "That was a stupid thing to say."
"Yes, it was."
"I shouldn't have made this a joint-ex-thing. You know, 'cause we were talking about my ex and then I brought up yours and that was just dumb. I'm sorry." Sarah furrowed her brow. "Chuck…" She stepped in close, sliding her hands up his forearms and closing her fingers around his biceps just above his elbows. "I know your head is a little injured right now, but I really need you to get this through it: If Bryce had been beside me throughout this tournament instead of you, I am one hundred percent positive we never would've gotten this far. Okay? Actually listen to me this time when I say this. If I was suddenly plunged into some alternate universe in which Bryce ended up replacing you for the tie breaker against China tomorrow, we would lose. I know it. Because I was there through all of the games we played together before he left the team, before he left me, and there is no way I could beat this Chinese team we're facing tomorrow with a weak-ass partner like Bryce Larkin. With you, Chuck, I know my Olympic debut is going to include getting into the semis. Because you're an amazing curler. You have an impressive mind for the game. But you also hear me and communicate. Am I being clear enough, or do you need anymore clarity?"
She didn't even let him answer, and instead she opted to just give him a bit more clarity anyway, just in case, reaching up to grab him by his face and pulling him into a hard kiss. He responded to it, immediately, his arms going around her. She ignored the cold of the ice in his hand seeping through her sweatshirt and smiled a little into his lips, then forgot herself and dragged a hand up into his hair.
He pulled back with a hiss and she let go of him. "Sorry!" she panted with a wince. "God, I'm sorry. You okay? I got a little…I mean, I forgot…""Nah, if anything that's really good for my self-esteem." He swallowed thickly and grinned a bit dreamily. "I mean, you forgetting yourself…"
She slid her hand into his and pulled him along with her to turn off the lights in the room. As they made their way back into the bedroom, she turned to eye him over her shoulder, feeling almost shy, or even a bit tentative, as she asked, "That knock to your self-esteem have anything to do with that dream about your ex?"
He groaned and she giggled. "Nightmare," he corrected. "And, uh…maybe."
The fact that he got quiet then made her think that teasing wasn't the way to approach this subject. She believed him when he said he was over her but Sarah still wondered just how bad it had been if he maybe wasn't over the situation.
She didn't ask any of the questions she wanted to, instead turning off the lamp on the nightstand and crawling into bed. He didn't follow for a moment and she gave him a questioning look.
"I, uh…You don't mind me getting back in there with you?"
God, he seemed so uncomplicated and simple sometimes, the way he operated, how he reacted to things, and then other times he was so complex and hard to predict and confusing. A few hours ago, he'd not only willingly jumped into bed with her, he'd sent her to new heights by touching her in ways no one else ever had before. And now, suddenly, he was bashful about getting back into this very same bed just to go to sleep.
"Just so long as you don't throw me out this time," she flirted and he laughed, accepting her invitation as she lifted the sheets for him.
They ended up on their sides, facing one another, and she reveled in the warmth he was providing on such a cold night. It was so cold, it seemed even the snow had stopped outside.
And even though she'd told herself she wouldn't keep bothering with this conversation, she did anyway, interrupting the comfortable silence. "What did she do to you?"
His brow furrowed for just a split second, as though he didn't know what she was referring to, and then he pressed his lips together and sighed, his eyes leaving hers as he looked away.
"You don't have to tell me," she said quickly. "It's okay." She smiled reassuringly. He really didn't have to if he didn't want to. They were partners, yes. They were roommates also. And then there was this physical magnetism that meant they kept falling into bed together. But none of that meant either of them were required to pour their souls out.
"It was a few years ago," he said haltingly. "It-I mean it isn't really…"
She could read him loud and clear. He didn't want to tell the story, and she needed to reassure him that she wasn't offended before things got awkward now. So she reached up to stroke her fingers down his cheek, her touch gentle and warm. "Really, Chuck. I mean it. Don't feel obligated to tell me. Please. Not if it's something you don't want to talk about right now. I get it, trust me." He gave her a small smile, his eyes soft as they peered into hers. "Listen, nobody would know about my situation if it hadn't been plastered all over sports media on and off for the last few months. Not something I really wanted everyone to know, to be honest."
He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know who would want that."
She paused. "Bryce. He wouldn't be here making money right now if all that publicity hadn't happened."
"Well, he's an asshole," Chuck snapped, and she widened her eyes, biting her cheek to keep from showing too much amusement. "S-Sorry, that wasn't—You know what? It was. I do mean it. He's garbage. And I'm not just saying it out of jealousy. He's been a royal dick through all of this."
"Not just out of jealousy?" She smirked a little and got that Bartowski flat look.
"I'm only human."
Sarah giggled, her ego properly stroked by his admission. And as she flipped over onto her other side to scoot back into his chest, she thought not for the first time about just how much she sincerely and earnestly liked this man.
She had almost drifted off to sleep when she heard him then, she didn't know how many minutes later.
His voice was so quiet, his breath fanning tendrils of her hair against her neck.
"We'd been dating since Sochi. Not that she was an Olympic athlete or anything; I met her when I got home. Anyway, I'll skip all the stuff in between, but after my accident in Switzerland, when I was recuperating in the hospital down in LA and doing my rehabilitation stuff, trying to get my legs back in working order and everything, she became more and more distant. I barely saw her. And then a friend of mine told me he and his girlfriend had seen her with some other guy at a club in West Hollywood. They confronted her and she was drunk enough that she spilled that this guy was a coworker of hers. I confronted her and she fessed up. She started cheating on me after the accident for no real reason, or so she said. But she broke up with me before I could do it and it's petty but that still pisses me off so bad." He huffed, nuzzling his nose against her neck.
Sarah had never known this kind of anger before. Even when everything with Bryce had happened, she hadn't felt like this. It was that searing white hot anger that just flooded you like you were standing in fire. She wanted to rip this Jill piece of shit's head right off of her shoulders.
Instead, she turned over to face him again, almost whipping her body around and seeming to surprise him with how quick it was. "She cheated on you while you were recuperating from a horrific accident? That's so insanely cruel."
"I know." He shrugged. "Some people can't fathom anything outside of their own wants and needs."
"That's putting it nicely. She's a selfish nutsack."
Chuck burst into laughter then, rolling onto his back, but then he winced a little and rolled back to his side. She giggled and reached over to gently cradle the back of his head in her hand. "Careful," she breathed.
"Selfifsh nutsack," he chuckled. "You're amazing. You know that? This is the first time I've been able to laugh about that whole situation in two and a half years."
"Right, but you're definitely over her."
She gave him a dubious look but he met her gaze squarely, steadily.
"I am over her. She was mean-spirited. She broke my heart. She cheated on me while I was trying to learn to walk on legs I'd broken in countless different places. Fuck her."
Sarah didn't say anything, just watching him. And she smiled a little when he sighed, almost a relenting sigh.
"It-It took some time, though. That was rough. I thought I had somebody at my side who'd support me, give me some much needed encouragement, prop me up. I mean, obviously I had Ellie and Devon and Morgan, and a few other close friends, but having someone who's your…I dunno, partner, I guess…the intimacy there…it's a different kind of support that I didn't realize I needed until I found out she cheated and she was out of my life."
She shook her head. "How do you do that to someone? I can't even imagine."
"Because you're not a selfish nutsack, Sarah." He grinned toothily and she chuckled, propping herself up a bit with her elbow on the pillow, head resting in her palm.
"I almost want to murder her, if I'm being totally honest."
"Awww, you would do that for me?"
The way he wrinkled his nose made her giggle happily. She could see in his face, in the lack of tension in his body, that he really was over this woman. And it made her feel better than winning those two Olympic curling matches earlier that day had. Though she was careful not to let that settle for too long, else things might take more of a serious turn than she was maybe ready for.
"I would. She'd deserve it."
He reached up to tug on the drawstring of her hood. "She isn't worth that kind of trouble. Let me tell you what Ellie said, 'cause she's a wise one, that sister o' mine." Sarah nodded in agreement. She thought perhaps Ellie was the wisest person she'd ever met, second maybe to Diane Beckman. "Well, first she said what you said, that she was gonna murder Jill. But with some grotesque details, you don't wanna know." She kind of did, but she supposed that might derail his point a bit. "But then she reeled it back a bit. And she said Jill isn't worth the effort of killing her. Better to just make her disappear completely. Out of sight, out of mind, out of everything. Stop giving her airtime, so to speak."
"This is wise," Sarah said with a smile.
"Yeah. That's my El for ya. I mean, of course, easier said than done. But I eventually got there. With some help."
"Oh yeah? What kind of help?"
Chuck gave her a long look, and then he slowly pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and he blushed, looking away. "Ah, curling, actually. Curling helped. You know, my mind was stuck on this woman who'd treated me like shit when I was going through one of the worst times of my life…It helped a lot when I found something else to stick my mind on. I put my entire brain into learning the sport, playing it, making friends in the local clubs and spending time with them, and it just…became so easy to just forget about her. The bad things and the good things, I just stopped caring about her. Stopped wondering what she was doing, if she was still with that guy, um…shit, see? I can't even remember that loser's name."
She beamed down at him. "Curling is kind of amazing, isn't it?" He nodded. "I guess that's probably why we've both put ourselves through all of this, huh? We're crazy about it."
"I'm crazy about you."
Sarah hadn't expected him to say that, and with so much earnestness in his voice. But her smile was immediate, and it reached every last bit of her soul.
Without saying another word, she wrapped an arm around him and burrowed against him, threading her legs with his, letting his sock-covered feet blanket her cold feet, and pressing her lips against his warm skin under his jaw. She fell asleep that way, pushing any and all other thoughts out of her mind, not wanting to overthink anything and instead just enjoy every last moment like this.
-oooo-
His partner took a deep breath beside him.
He sat on the bench with his elbows on his knees, head sagging so that his chin was against his chest. Just a few moments of peace, shared peace, between them before they would play what might be their last curling match of the Olympics—Or, if they won, the beginning of their fight to get a medal in the semifinals.
Chuck Bartowski wasn't stressed, however. They'd done something good here, so far. It would've been nice to get into the semis without having to play a tie breaker match. But that wasn't to be. China had won six games, lost three, just like they had. So here they were, and he felt all right. He felt good, actually.
And as he heard Sarah suck in another deep breath, letting it out slowly, he felt the back of her hand against his where it hung at his side. Her soft skin brushing against his, knuckles touching, and then the backs of her fingers stroked over his…oh so gently.
The door opened beside them then and her hand was gone.
He opened his eyes and sat up straight. This is it…
But when he turned, preparing to get up and follow the attendant, he was surprised to find Becks there instead and oh…Uh oh…
This wasn't the same happy Diane Beckman they'd seen in their apartment the night before, her smile so bright and proud, the trace of validation in her features.
Instead, something in her cheek was twitching, her eyes were narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, nostrils flaring, and her small body oh-so-tense under her Team U.S.A. Jacket and black slacks.
He had a feeling, and he could see by the look Sarah gave him that she had the same feeling…
"So I was putting my nightly face mask on—cold weather makes my skin dry!" she snapped, as though either of them'd had a mind to judge her for it. They did not. "And there was a knock on my door. 'Now, who could that be?' I wondered. I went to the door, my face covered in green gunk and a man who looked like he was made out of filet mignon was standing there with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face I'd ever seen in my life."
Chuck heard a soft choking sound next to him but he didn't dare look at Sarah. He couldn't. He'd absolutely lose his shit if he did. Followed directly by losing his actual life.
"Suffice to say, he looked absolutely terrified of the small green monster that answered the door…and when we got past that, he told me someone named Sarah Walker had told him she was staying in my room. I WONDER WHERE HE GOT THAT IDEA, SARAH WALKER." She spun to face Sarah only, leaning in and glaring.
Sarah was speechless. Or perhaps she was just afraid that if she tried to speak, it would come out as a laugh and then she'd never be able to stop…
"Why did you send Cole Barker to my door? What do I want with a beefy bobsledder who thinks he's some kind of sliding gift from the gods James Bond?"He glanced at Sarah finally and she winced, running her hands up and down the thighs of her pants.
"I'm sorry, Diane…"
"Coach Beckman. You don't get to use the name Diane today," Becks grumbled.
Chuck smashed his fist against his mouth to keep from giggling.
"Coach Beckman," Sarah said with another wince. "I really wasn't looking for more than a cup of hot cocoa and he was super pushy so I thought, you know, maybe he wasn't used to hearing no and I wouldn't be able to get rid of him, so I gave him what he wanted…"
"My room number?"
"Uh…well…I'm pretty sure he wanted mine. But I gave him yours because…Okay, honestly, I thought it was really funny. I'm sorry. I really didn't think he was gonna do it."
"Well, you obviously charmed the pants off of 'im, didn't you?" the older woman snarked.
"The point really was that I was trying to avoid it getting that far."
Chuck finally let out a snort, turning his face and pretending to cough.
"Shut up, Bartowski."
"Yes, ma'am." He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat.
"I really am sorry. I hope it wasn't too terrible…" Sarah hugged herself and made a face. She seemed pretty sincere in her apology he thought. "I just didn't want that kind of distraction and, I dunno, he's not really my type."
He glanced at her again. Did she have a type? If Cole Barker didn't fit Sarah's type, did Chuck? Now wasn't the right time to spiral, though, so he shook that line of thought off.
"I don't care what your type is or who you choose to sleep with. Stop sending them to me."
Sarah pulled her lips in between her teeth and nodded with wide eyes. "Yes, Coach. I promise, he's the last one."
"Good."
Chuck cleared his throat again, then raised his hand tentatively. "Um, can I just ask something?"
"No," he heard Sarah whisper.
He ignored her.
"Did you invite him in, though?" His coach's hand whipped around and smacked him lightly in the side of the head before he could even blink. "Ah! Hey!"
Beckman walked to the door without another word, but then she stopped just before she went through and looked over her shoulder. She wore a small smirk and a raised eyebrow as she admitted, "Thought about it, though."
And then she was gone.
He couldn't see through the tears spilling out of his eyes as he laughed, leaning into Sarah as she pressed her face into his shoulder, shaking with laughter of her own. And it didn't stop, not until the attendant came in to take the two teams out onto the ice to start the match.
And even then, Chuck was full of mirth as he had his mic attached, still letting out soft snorts as he thought about the image of Beckman with green face cream all over her face opening the door to an egotistical Brit. And then he let out a soft titter when he imagined bobsled medalist Cole Barker strutting up to that door, one hundred percent certain he was getting lucky that night, only to find a small angry woman with a green face on the other side of the door.
Oh, God.
But curling. Curling was important. That was why he was here, in this game that was being televised for millions upon millions of people, not just in the U.S., but all across the world. And he needed to sober up.
Getting a subtle pinch on his arm from Sarah helped a bit as the first End finished. In spite of him still struggling to get over Beckman and her parting words, Team U.S.A. earned three points.
Sarah started the second End, delivering a lightly weighted rock into the house, to stop next to China's rock that was placed on the T-line at the start of the End. Li Wei Hu delivered China's first rock to slide to a stop as a corner guard.
Chuck scratched the back of his head and looked down at China's placed rock at the back of the four foot and sighed. "I'm gonna clog the center of the ice," he said. "Just keep pumping 'em in here."
"Mmm…I like that. Hide it all behind the guard. Make them chase us."
"Exactly."
Chuck and Team China's Zhang Jing Wang traded off delivering three rocks each, Chuck trying to pile their red rocks in the center, as close to the button as possible and Wang attempting to push China's yellow rocks into the mix.
By the time it was Sarah's turn to deliver their last rock, China's originally placed rock was untouched and they had one rock on the button, as well as one hiding behind the first guard they set up and one to the right side in the eight foot. Chuck had delivered all three of his rocks into the center to clog up the area around the button, which meant Team U.S.A. had four rocks in the house. The only problem was that China had that rock on the button and Sarah needed to find a way to take that out of contention, or China could get more than one point from the End.
"They're really good at this whole burying thing," Chuck said as he and Sarah looked down at the way things were stacking up, figuring out their strategy.
"So are you," she said. He felt something behind his belly button, a tightening sensation, and he bit his cheek to keep from showing anything on his face. Had she meant it in the way she said it? There was a slight smirk on her lips, but she was looking down at the rocks and he couldn't be sure. But that was almost too naughty. And out in the open like this? "This right here was perfect. If we can get the shooter to curl in through here and bump this one into their rock on the button, we can get it out of its current lying situation."
"Right, right…prevent them from getting two counters in there."
"Mhm. Yep."
"Actually, that might push our guy right here into position on the button."
"Oh, I like that. Let's get it into button position."
"My favorite position."
He felt her freeze next to him, but then she scooted away to take the shot.
Seriously, Chuck?
He inwardly groaned. At least Sarah's come on was subtle enough to go over everyone's heads. His was so blatant and he sounded like a middle schooler.
"Gimme my line, dude."
Chuck quickly flew into action, taking a moment to get his bearings, and then he set the brush of his broom for her. "How's that look?"
"It's good."
She shoved off and oh-so-gently let go of the rock, hurrying to her full height and following.
"I like the line," he said. "Weight only." Then a pause as he timed how long it would take to hit the other stone. "Go…go go! Hard!"
She scrubbed fast, then pulled it up just in time as the shooter hit one of their own rocks and caused it to bump China's lying rock out of contention. The shooter rolled out of contention to stop in the twelve foot ring, but the first rock she hit with her shot settled nice and nestled in the button. They were lying one, with China's yellow rock flanking it in second counting position.
HOT. It was so hot. The celebratory little leg lift plus fist pump she did as she slid down the ice towards him was even hotter.
"Nice shot, Walker."
"Teamwork makes the dream work," she said with a smile. And they awaited Hu's delivery of the second End's hammer.
It just barely avoided crashing on the original U.S.A. guard placed to start the End, and careened into a few of the rocks Chuck had stacked in the center, but in the end, Chuck and Sarah stole one point.
The third and fourth Ends were finished with two blanks, keeping the score at four points for U.S.A and none for China heading into halftime.
"Hey, so…remember that whole people aren't supposed to know you and I are…ya know…" Chuck murmured to her once they got into the prep room for a breather before the second half started up.
"What?" she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.
"Having sex," he hissed quietly.
"Nobody knows but us." She took a long drink from her water.
"Well, you're doing a bang up job keeping it that way—Yes, I realize I just said bang. Get your mind out of the gutter," he whispered as she got a certain glint in her eye.
"You went there. I didn't."
"Oh, really? 'Button position' ring any bells for ya?"
She gasped. "That was totally you. 'My favorite position'…Come on."
"Oh okay, then. What about the whole…bury conversation?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." She practically had a halo over her head this time, and it was stupidly hot, this flirtatious game she was playing.
"Mhm…my compliment about how good they are at burying and you straight up said 'so are you' to me and if that isn't sexual innuendo, I don't know what is," he snarked, keeping his voice down as he smirked at her.
"And you say I need to get my head out of the gutter? But for the record, if I was alluding to…what you say I was alluding to…I wouldn't be wrong." Her blue eyes dragged up his entire body, from his feet all the way up to meet his gaze.
He had to take a deep breath, hearing a tight whimper in his throat. "You are so naughty today," he breathed. "What has gotten into Sarah Walker?"
"Chuck Bartowski."
His jaw fell open as she took yet another long drink from her water bottle. "Dear God, are you going to do this to me for the rest of this match? Please say no."
Sarah smirked, but he could see she was actually legitimately pleased, a real smile breaking through the smirk as she put one foot on the bench to retie her shoe. "You really want me to say no?"
He pouted a bit. "No."
She laughed then, tossing him his water. "Keep hydrated, Bartowski. You're gonna need it." And as she moved past him, he felt just the slightest of pinches on his backside through his pants and he jumped with a squeak.
He was in deep, deep trouble.
-oooo-
She was well aware of how evil she was for spending the last half of the tie breaker against China finding as many ways as she could to flirt and tease her teammate under the guise of curling jargon.
It hadn't distracted her from their game plan even a little bit. If anything, it'd been easier for her to focus somehow. And the warmth she got from looking down those one hundred and fifty feet of the ice sheet to meet his gaze while she posed at the hack with the rock in hand. He set her at ease, bolstered the confidence she already had in her ability to make her shot count.
She wanted to win, and she knew he wanted to win just as bad…and yet, there was this shameless playfulness in the last hour of the game.
Sarah covered it up well enough with professionalism, and Chuck was maybe having a bit of a harder time doing the same, but God, she was having so much fun.
And when China only got one point with the eighth End hammer, Team U.S.A. came away with nine points to China's six and a trip to the semifinals. She hadn't held back this time. After a few moments of professionalism, solemnly shaking Hu and Wang's hands as the Chinese team conceded the match, Sarah turned to Chuck and jumped at him.
He caught her easily as she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, laughing.
When he put her down a few moments later, they both stepped back, still laughing in excitement. Sarah clasped her hands together in front of her mouth and scrunched her shoulders up, letting out a long, "Ahhhhh!"
"Miss Walker…excuse me…"
She spun on her heels and saw an official standing there with the clipboard, a muted but amused smile on her face.
"Oh! Sorry!" She grabbed the pen and signed, shaking the woman's hand, and then she turned back to look at the fans who were still cheering, waving American flags, calling her name, calling Chuck's name. The rest of the curling team was there, too, right behind where Beckman and Graham sat at the coach's table.
Sarah raised her arms over her head in fists in celebration, seeing Chuck step up by her side and let out a "Semis, babyyyy!"
Was it entirely appropriate for curling? Probably not. But had they also been low-key flirting and hitting on one another for the entire Olympic curling match? Yes, they absolutely had. Not that anyone else could know that was what had been happening.
…She hoped.
Either way, they were going to the semifinals in Olympic mixed doubles curling, and they had until late afternoon the next day to rest, take in some more of the other events, including the men's final in halfpipe in which she hoped she would be watching the Flying Beard win a gold medal.
And as they walked into the tunnel to go back to the prep room, Chuck reached around her to put his hand on her opposite shoulder and he hugged her to his side. It was a perfectly affectionate, non-romantic gesture if anyone else saw it, but she felt the way his fingers squeezed her shoulder, and she knew the extent of what existed between them. Rather, she thought she did, in that moment.
She thought she did.
A/N: This was such a fun chapter to write and I was so bad because I made Sarah so bad and it is so fun to write naughty Sarah. YOU SHOULD ALL TRY IT. Like, she is UNHINGED. Also, just for the record, Diane Beckman knew exactly what she was doing. EXACTLY. And it worked like a charm, didn't it? What a good coach she is. Green gunk 'n all.
Kay love you folks, see you all soon!
-SC