I'm fixing my tie when Emily comes out of the bathroom; she takes one look at me and frowns. "You can't wear that." My hands stop and I look around the room, almost expecting her to be talking to someone else. "No?" I ask her as I turn to face her again, confused as to what's wrong with my suit. "No." I frown. "Then what will I wear?" I didn't really pack anything else but this. "You have to wear the sweater I gave you for luck." I laugh and when Emily frowns I stare at her. "You're serious?" I ask her and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I know that we look pretty strange to you, whenever we go through our rituals before each practice but swimmers are really superstitious. All the things we do around the locker room or even the pool might seem silly to you because you're not an athlete but we do them for a reason. Because they work." I cough into my hand to stop myself from saying something stupid. "I know you don't believe me but every practice you've worn the sweater to, I've actually shaved like two seconds off my average times. So please, you can make fun of me all you want but wear it at least for this meet because we really need all the luck we can get today. Everyone is on edge because the first meet sets the mood for the rest of the season and I just want a great season because this is the last one I'll have with my team." I nod at her, easily giving in. I start to take off my blazer but then realize that I didn't actually bring the sweater with me. Emily can sense my hesitation and she smiles before going to her gym bag, dumping some of her things on the bed before finally pulling out the sweater. "Wait did you already know I would say yes?" I ask her as I take the sweater from her hands. "No. But I hoped you would because this will totally give us the edge we need to win." She smiles at me as I pull the sweater over my head I smile and take a deep breath. It smells like her. It's probably silly but that makes my heart beat just a little bit faster before it slows down again. The fact that I can smell her all over me.
Emily gives me a thumbs up with both of her hands and I roll my eyes, pretending that it's a chore to wear the sweater. She swats at my shoulder. "Hey, no negativity today. We have a meet to win." I shrug. "Yeah, yeah. Come on and hurry up, I want my coffee." She laughs as she carelessly stuffs her things back into her bag. When she's done I go around the room to make sure that we're not forgetting anything and then we head on over to the car to put everything in the trunk. We walk towards the restaurant area and Coach Fulton is already there, she must have gotten up a bit earlier than us because she's halfway through her crossword puzzle on the paper and drinking her coffee with an empty plate sitting in front of her. Emily automatically goes towards her table and asks her coach if she doesn't mind if we join her. Coach Fulton looks up, surprised to be interrupted by one of her swimmers because she expected them all to enjoy their morning rest to the fullest. After we say good morning they both begin to talk about today's meet and my phone rings. It's the Mansfield Chief of Police. I excuse myself from the table as I answer him, letting him know that we're having breakfast at the hotel. He confirms the name of it from the itinerary I sent him and tells me that he's just parking his car so he'll see me in a minute or two. I hang up and sit down, waiting for his arrival.
True to his word in a minute he's walking through the door. He's a tall man but years of being a chief have made him carry around a bit of extra weight. Even with the extra pounds and the fact that he looks closer to retirement than a new chief coming in, the way he carries himself tells me he's a cop through and through. He moves with fluid motions. His arm motions are wide and he walks with confidence. He walks towards our table, seeing as it's the only one that's occupied. He takes the three of us in and angles himself directly in front of Coach Fulton. "Agent McCullers, I'm Chief of Police Arthur O'Neill, at your service. We spoke earlier today." Coach Fulton looks confused and Emily's shoulders are shaking with laughter. She's hiding her mouth with one of her hands but I still catch it. I stand up and shake his hand. "I'm Secret Service Agent McCullers. That's Coach Fulton and Emily Fields, my protectee." He blushes, clearly embarrassed because he was expecting someone older, someone to look like they could take down a perp or at least take a bullet in the chest. Not someone like me. I should be used to this but it still hurts my pride when it happens. Especially in front of Emily. It's silly but that makes it sting a little bit more than usual. But I guess you can't always win against every stereotype.
"Please, let's talk in private while they enjoy their breakfast. There are some things I'd like to go over with you before show time." I extend my hand and we make our way over to a corner table that is facing not just Emily's table but it allows us to see the entrance and kitchen doors. He sits down across from me and laughs. "Well gee, sorry about the mix up missy. I was expecting someone to look like they would in the movies you know? I've never seen a Secret Service agent before and you look like you could be one of my daughter's friends. She's about your age and goes to UConn. So the sweater made me thing you were another student too." I look down at the sweater and blush, both in anger and embarrassment. I want to punch this asshole right into retirement. I'm about to say something snarky about his age when I see Emily look over at us and then back to the coach again. I clench my fists and grit my teeth, Marco's words echoing in my head about being a bit of a hot head and getting into a lot of trouble for it. And as much as I want to salvage my pride it won't do me any good right now so I force myself to smile at him. "I get that all the time." He laughs and shakes his head. "Well I still want to apologize." I nod at him and he visibly relaxes. "All right then, let's get this out of the way so we can get your girls into your competition then." He pulls out printouts of the pool area and locker rooms, spreading them down on the table in front of us. "Well I did just what you outlined in your instructions. I got all my officers to sweep every inch of that place. Supervised it myself. We did the pool area as shown here, the pool maintenance room and the locker rooms." I nod along to what he shows me. "We couldn't get the metal detector to be put in place but it's a small community, not many people carry guns. We'll just wand people down and I've already put two of my officers in there with you as backup." As he finishes speaking his radio crackles to life, effectively ending our meeting. He starts talking into it and then stands up. I stand up with him and after he finishes gathering all his papers I extend my hand to him. "Thank you for going out of your way to do this. We really appreciate it when local authorities such as yourself divert your resources in order to assist us in these kinds of assignments." He firmly shakes my hand and smiles before conspiratorially leaning in. "Honestly it's no problem… especially because most of my guys plan on voting for Fields." He gives me a thumbs up as he excuses himself and leaves.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The bleachers are not even 1/3 full and while this turnout might be disappointing for the swimmers, I'm relieved that there isn't that much of a crowd. Even though the security isn't quite presidential, it's still high stakes and I'm nervous because this is my first time actually coordinating this kind of operation by myself. At least when I was on security detail with Mrs. Fields I had Marco to lean on when it came to shit like this. Now it's my ass on the line. And as exciting as it is to do this in the real world, outside of the simulations, it's also scary as fuck because I don't want to fuck everything up. Not when I have so many eyes on me. Not when I'm supposed to be the big shot from Washington that's telling the local cops how to help me pull this off. The one that even their chief has to defer to when, like he said, I'm his daughter's age.
The radio Chief O'Neill loaned me that's on their frequency is firmly placed on my belt. I might be able to conceal my weapon but I can't cover this up. I just hang a stopwatch around my neck and given my youth most spectators brush me off as some kind of assistant. They don't really think much of me and I keep walking around the perimeter of the pool area, scanning the crowd since O'Neill's officers are manning the entrances. I see nothing out of the ordinary and yet I still can't let my guard down.
Both teams enter the pool area and the crowd erupts in cheers. I keep my focus trained on the audience and occasionally let my eyes take Emily in. She's wearing her bulky warm up jacket, even though the pool area is pretty warm. It's part of her pre-swim good luck ritual. She told me that she has to wear her warm up jacket, halfway zipped and listen to the 1812 Overture, but just the part that gets good, because it was what always got her friend Spencer pumped up before a big exam in high school. And she figures if her friend always aced her exams, it could be extended to her athletic endeavors instead of just being exclusively applicable to academics. She looks in my direction and I meet her eyes. She smiles at me but it doesn't reach her eyes because she's worried. I don't blame her. The rest of the team came in reeking of alcohol and some even threw up before they even got a chance to use the pool for warm ups. I guess they didn't just carbo-load after all.
Emily is nodding her head along to the music that's blaring through her headphones and then the coach taps her, signaling her to get ready. Emily takes her headphones out, puts them in her jacket pocket, and lets the jacket drop down next to the wall. She stands up on the platform and then she dives over her teammate and into the water. I scan the crowd again and look at all the exits, double checking that everything is still fine. When I look back at the pool Emily is already pulling herself out of the water. I stop and clap along with the rest of the spectators. Blown away by how fast she swam from one end to another and then back again. She really was made for the water.
The rest of the events go by just as quickly. I don't really understand swimming that well, so when they announce the scores 161-139 I'm confused as to what that means, but judging from the look on some of the girls faces on Emily's team, it's probably bad. I don't know why, Emily won two events. She wasn't even the only one from her team that won. Two of her teammates also won first place but I guess that's not all there is to this swimming thing. I keep scanning the crowd with a bit more apprehension because it hasn't dwindled and even though it was small to start with they are now moving towards the pool area. It's understandable, they're mostly parents, friends or significant others to the local girls and they just want to congratulate them on their overall win. After a couple of minutes both teams finish gathering their stuff up and are lining up to shake hands with their opponents. I look at Emily and she's genuinely happy when she shakes the UConn girl's hands. They're halfway through when Shelby holds her hands up to her mouth and tries to run towards the lockers. The floor is slippery and instead of making it, halfway through she throws up all over the floor and I cringe along with the rest of the people in the natatorium. The local paramedic that's on standby is quickly moving towards her but Coach Fulton waves them off and I radio in to the local cops not to worry about the incident.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
When we make our way back into the locker room the air has changed around them. It goes from the nervous pre-meet energy to this heavy thing that just makes me feel tired. The girls are standing around the lockers, shuffling their feet and looking dejected. Instead of rushing about, trying to win dibs on first shower, everyone is downcast. Even Emily. The room is dead silent as Coach Fulton walks in with her arms around her chest. This is the first time I've ever seen all the girls be this subdued. Usually there's whispering or background chatter about what's next. But now there's nothing but the sound of Coach Fulton pacing up and down the length of the room, shaking her head. "I don't know what to say to you girls. I have never been more disappointed in my athletes than I am today." She's not screaming. Coach Fulton is not one to lose her cool. She's not those coaches that bully their athletes into performing better for fear of getting punished or yelled at. She makes her girls work hard because they want to please her, and today she is far from that. Her team doesn't move a muscle and she continues. "Today was supposed to be about taking pride in what you love to do. Not about winning. This is never about winning. Because you can't win all the time. Sports teach us how to win gracefully and how to lose the same way. But today… today was different. Not because we lost but because of the way you disrespected me, the way you disrespected your teammates. Not to mention the fact that you were disrespectful to those girls out there whom you competed against. But most importantly, you disrespected yourselves and that is something you should really be ashamed of because at the end of the day that's who you have to answer to." Some of the girl's eyes are bright red. I don't know if it's because of the chlorine or if what the coach is saying is getting to them.
"We have been practicing for months for this, for some of you it's been years. I've given up my free hours to be in the pool along with you guys, to train you, to coach you, to support you. To give you that focus and preparation needed to win. So you can have the consistency that you needed to swim in there today and do your best." None of the girls look up. Not one girl dares to meet the coach's eyes. "And instead I have to find out today, before our meet, that you blew all of your hard work, my hard work and your teammates' hard work to get drunk last night? Now I'm not against drinking but I am against irresponsible behavior when it affects my team. And I hope that all of you are happy, that last night was worth all of this. I'm very disappointed in you girls because I thought that you understood your responsibilities to this team, to me and to yourselves." She shakes her head and sighs. "I'm not just blaming you; I too have failed as your coach and mentor." A few of the girls try to protest this but with one look they all quickly shut up again and lower their heads. "This is because it is my job to be a model of responsibility, 24-7, year round. This also means owning up to my own shortcomings and failures. I trusted you all to be responsible last night and you weren't. That is on me as well. So starting today you are all on probation." Some freshman girls try to protest this but a few elbows to their sides quickly shuts them up again. "This means that all of us will have to re-learn how to act like responsible adults that we are. Starting this weekend we'll be doing volunteer work and community cleanup. All of us. Because we are all part of a team and when one of us messes up, we all do it. Now everybody hit the showers, but before you do I want you to take a good look at your teammate's eyes and apologize for the way you acted. Especially Miss Fields, who I know for a fact didn't participate in your late night excursions but still has to suffer the consequences of your irresponsible actions."
Author's Note: Here is another chapter and I wanted to thank everyone for being so awesome regarding this fic.