Payson pulled her track pants on over her leo and grabbed a bottle of water. She looked around, taking a quick swig before replacing the cap and storing it into her gym bag. She was done for the day, done for the week actually. They'd replicated the format of the preliminary team competition down the smallest details and now it was over, no more training, no more practice. Tomorrow morning they were booked on a flight to London and the next night they would be at Opening Ceremonies.

She breathed out slowly, her eyes flickering towards her teammates, most of whom had already pulled on their warm-ups and were packing their gym bags silently. It seemed she wasn't alone in feeling this way. All week the level of focus was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Everyone seemed to sense the importance of these last few training days. Each skill wasn't simply another part of a routine, but potential hundredths and tenths of a point that could bring them the gold medals they'd coveted since they were old enough to understand what that meant.

Overall, she was extremely pleased with the way each of her teammates was performing. Kelly and Izzy could always be counted on to be consistent and solid. Lauren was better than ever on beam and Emily's bars sets were phenomenal. The one question mark coming into the week had been Kaylie and she'd been nailing her routines with confidence born from finally allowing herself to relax and simply compete, much like she used to before she won her national championship, before all the drama and before the anorexia. There would be no excuses in London. If they competed as well in the O2 arena as they had in the Pepsi Center then in two weeks they would be Olympic champions. They were the deepest team in the world, virtually no weaknesses in their rotations when they competed as a team and three legitimate contenders for the all-around competition, though only the top two would be allowed to compete.

Of course there was a big difference between nailing routines in the Pepsi Center, completely devoid of pressure, despite the atmosphere Boris tried to create and performing under the pressure of the Olympic spotlight. Payson sighed and looked over at her teammates. It could be any one of them to crack. She had no idea how they would respond to this kind of pressure, in fact she wasn't even sure how she would respond herself. Everyone said it, the Olympics were simply different than any other competition and despite what you told yourself, despite attempting to treat it like any other important meet your consciousness simply wouldn't allow you the pleasure of lying to yourself. It was just a few routines that were meant to last for the rest of your life.

Whoa, slow down, Payson. What's gotten into you? You need to stop this train of thought right now.

It was Sasha's voice in her head, snapping her out of it. Payson shook her head, trying to rid herself of the negative energy she suddenly had in abundance and nearly jumped out of her skin when a warm hand landed on her shoulder. She whirled around, her heart caught in her throat and then she exhaled in relief when she saw it was Austin. "You scared me," she mumbled.

Austin eyed her carefully, his brow furrowed in confusion and not a little concern, "Yeah, I can see that. You alright, Payson? You look a little freaked."

She nodded and then shook her head at herself, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tense."

Austin frowned, "Tense isn't good. This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain restriction you've put on yourself, would it?" He looked at her knowingly and then bounced his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh despite herself.

"Maybe," she admitted, her eyes instinctively finding Sasha across the arena where he stood with his father, both men gesturing wildly with their hands, each obviously confident his point was being missed by the other.

"Definitely," he said, shaking his head, a rueful grin on his face. "You two are out of your minds."

"Maybe," she said, not giving in, but her eyes met his and told him he was right. The last few days were difficult at best. One of the things Payson cherished about her life was consistency and routine. It was what kept her mind focused and her body precise and this week had destroyed her usual routine in the hopes of establishing a new one, one that would have to carry her through over the next two weeks which portended to be draining in every way, emotionally, physically and mentally. However, the loss of her old routine… Oh who are you kidding, Payson, not having Sasha right there, to lean on, that's what you miss. She sighed, "Definitely," she said, allowing Austin the victory. "I just…." She shrugged helplessly, "it's strange I guess."

Austin patted her shoulder sympathetically, "Want to have dinner tonight? One last hurrah before we descend into the insanity? I mean I know I'm not who you want to spend the evening with, but…"

"Sure," she agreed with a smile. It had been a while since she and Austin sat down and had a meal. "It's a been a while since we hung out."

"Yeah," he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders lightly, ignoring the disapproving glare they received from Ellen Beals just a few feet away and the photographer hired by the NGO to document the week snapped a picture. "Alright, gotta go train," he said, kissing the top of her head and giving her shoulder a squeeze before moving away.

She gathered her things together, pulling her gym bag over her shoulder and seeing Boris striding away from Sasha, she moved in that direction. It would be her only chance to talk to him semi-privately until they were in London.

"Hey," she said, sidling up to his side as he observed the maintenance crew adjusting the vault for the men's training session.

He must not have seen her approach because he turned at the sound of her voice and nodded quickly, "Thought you'd gone already," he said absently. "Make sure to ice your knee tonight. The hours on the plane tomorrow aren't going to be kind to it."

"Right," she said, having lost her train of thought at his words. Five days suddenly felt like eternity, especially since what happened that first night with that slimeball at the NGO's reception. He seemed so cool then, completely in control of himself and the situation. She wasn't sure how he did it. Why wasn't he a mess of nerves and tumbling emotions? Because he's got self control, unlike you. He can deal with a little bit of separation because it's for your own good. Stop mooning, go back to the hotel and focus on what's important, Payson. She sighed heavily and looked up at him, but his eyes were focused again on the crew finishing up on the vault. "See you tomorrow morning," she said finally, her shoulders deflating. What did you expect? He's got work to do.

He nodded, "See you tomorrow, Payson. Remember, ice, compression and elevation," he called to her as she moved away, suddenly feeling worse than she had all week and more annoyed at herself than anything else for feeling that way at all.

Everyone was already on the bus when she arrived. "Nice of you to join us, Payson," Beals quipped sarcastically and looked to Henry Palatt to back her up, but the public relations man didn't seem to care much and simply let the driver know they were ready to go.

She moved down the aisle and came to a full stop as someone grabbed her arm and dragged her into a seat. She shook her head as she pulled the strap of her gym bag over her head again. "Sure, KP I'll sit with you."

"Like you weren't already headed here, PK," Kelly said, her face stoic, but her tone anything but serious.

They'd done interviews solo, in groups and in pairs this week and one of the reporters had pointed on that their initials were the reverse of each other and since then, they'd bee KP and PK. It fit, since aside from their dedication to their sport, they were polar opposites in every way, from their style of gymnastics, to their taste in music, clothes and men and yet despite all those differences, they'd forged something of a friendship, one of the few bright spots of the week, outside of training.

Payson laughed lightly as Kelly dug through her own gym bag. "You've got to listen to this," she said, fiddling with her iPod and handing Payson one of the ear buds. "Sam sent me a new track and it's amazing."

Payson cringed, but put the bud in her ear. Sam O'Connor was Kelly's on again of again, long haired and tattooed football star of a boyfriend, currently attending Boise State. He was obsessed with country music, a love he apparently transferred to Kelly. As the twang of the banjo filled one ear and the song went on and on, she grimaced and shrugged, "Sounds the same as every other song you've made me listen to this week."

Kelly rolled her eyes, "Whatever, it rocks," then quick as lightning she changed tracks, "I saw you talking to Austin. You know I heard Odette Vienneau isn't exactly the sharing type. Looking to get back on TMZ, PK?"

Payson scoffed, "How many times do I have to tell you that A isn't Austin?"

"Until you tell me who it really is," Kelly said quickly with a smile as the bus drew to a stop in front of their hotel. "Or until I figure it out." They moved out of their seats quickly and towards the front of the bus.

"You'll figure it out eventually," Payson assured her, "but I'm going out to dinner with Austin tonight, so you'll have all evening to think about it."

"Payson," a voice called out from just behind her as she stepped out of the bus and moved towards the hotel. She turned to see Ellen Beals frowning in her direction. "Make sure you're back by curfew tonight, it wouldn't do to have our team captain breaking the rules on the last night before we leave for the Olympics."

Payson glared at the woman for a moment and then another, the seconds ticking by slowly. She let the silence hang in the air heavily, letting Beals know that she had no power over her. She held eye contact steadily, smiling inwardly when Beals looked away, unable to hold her gaze, before turning on her toe and waltzing into the hotel with the five other girls, Justine and Andrea both having gone home straight from training that day.

"Wow, Pay, if looks could kill," Emily muttered as they all strode towards the elevators together.

Payson looked around at her teammates, all of whom, in one way or another had been hurt by Ellen Beals and her ridiculous schemes and vendettas. "I'm done with that meddling bitch. We're going to London tomorrow, despite her," she said as they all got into the elevator and pushed the button for their floor. "She can't touch us now."

"So what's the problem?" Austin asked, hours later as they sat down to dinner at the hotel's restaurant. "I've never seen you like that during training before."

Payson sighed and shrugged, circling the edge of her water glass with the tip of her finger. "It's been a rough week."

Austin took a sip of his water and eyed her carefully, "Seemed pretty normal to me, aside from you and that idiot we call a coach trying to stay away from each other."

"It's not stupid. Sasha's done this before, Austin, he knows how much is required during the Olympics, how much it takes out of you. I can't waste my energy on something as stupid as sex."

Austin leveled his eyes at her and shook his head, "Do you hear yourself? This from the girl who won her second national championship the night after she…"

She cut him off quickly, looking around at the tables near them to make sure no one overheard him, "That's not the point," she said. "The Olympics isn't like any other competition."

Austin rolled his eyes, "It won't be if you refuse to treat it like one. You're at your best when you and Sasha are together. I've seen it in action."

"That's not the point," she said, not even sure why she was arguing with him about it. Especially since you agree with him, Keeler. You're tired and miserable and it's an easy fix. A half hour, hell, fifteen minutes with Sasha and all this tension and worry would be a distant memory and you know it.

"That's exactly the point," Austin frowned at her, "You know that story people tell about me winning Olympic gold hung over?"

Payson rolled her eyes, "Of course." Everyone knew that story. It was one of the most ridiculous things she'd ever heard, especially now that she knew Austin. He wasn't like that, at least not beneath the surface.

"Well, did you know that it's true?"

Payson stared at him, trying to measure his seriousness. As far as she knew Austin had never lied to her and she didn't see any sign that he was now. "You're kidding me." It didn't match what she knew about him, although he'd always insisted he was very different from the person he'd been before he came to Boulder two years ago.

He shook his head, "Nope. The Olympics are a trip, Pay and it's easy to get caught up in all of it, especially since the gymnastics competition doesn't start until the second week and I did. I partied and soaked it all in and the night before the all-around I went out to a party and drank myself into a stupor, not thinking there was any way I'd win in the first place. Then I went out there with nothing to lose the next day and won the whole damn thing."

"I'm not you, Austin," she said, sighing heavily.

"No, you're not and I'm not telling you to go out and eat your weight in manicotti, drink scotch and try to blow this damn thing, but sticking to what works and obviously being with Sasha works. I say don't mess with success."

Payson sighed and took another sip of her water. "I guess so."

"I know so and besides Beloff has been a cranky bastard this entire week at training because of it and I'd rather not spend sixteen hours on a plane with him snapping at everyone."

Payson furrowed her brow, "He's been cranky?" She bit her lip. He'd seemed fine all week, except for the night of the reception, the tension coming off him in waves, but he'd kept everything very professional and distant.

Austin stared at her, his mouth open just slightly. "Are you deaf, dumb and blind, Pay? The man is miserable. Maybe he's been putting on a good show for you, but you should see the footage they have of him. They're really playing up the whole James Bond of gymnastics thing and he gave him a ton of material to work with."

Payson frowned, "So we've both been miserable this entire week for absolutely no reason."

"Not no reason, just no good reason," he said with a cheeky smile and Payson rolled her eyes.

"Helpful, Austin, really, very helpful."

"Helpful is my middle name."

"Your middle name is Stanley," she said with a laugh, suddenly feeling much better about her week and about the weeks ahead. She smiled across the table at Austin who smiled back. Sometimes a girl just needed her best friend.

Sasha watched as the men's team packed up their equipment, gathering mislaid grips and warm-up jackets before moving off the arena floor towards the waiting buses.

"This was a good week," a voice said from just behind him. He turned to see Marty Walsh sitting in one of the chairs up against the wall, looking thoughtful.

Sasha nodded, "It was. Everyone seems good to go."

Marty stood and nodded, "You up for a drink at the hotel?"

Sasha studied him for a moment, wondering if that was a good idea. What the hell, Beloff, you've been dying to drown your miserable, celibate self in something nice and potent all week. "Sure, if you can keep up with me. Last time we went for a drink I vaguely recall pulling you out of a pile of several rough looking blokes."

Marty laughed, as they moved towards the exit together. "You did and then you punched me out yourself."

Sasha smiled remembering just how satisfying the connection of his fist to Marty's jaw had been in that moment, "The good old days."

"And then she left me, called it a fling," Marty muttered as they sat at the edge of the bar in the hotel's restaurant, their second bottle of Jack sitting half empty on the cherry wood surface, a shot glass in front of each of them.

Sasha sighed, frowning at his old friend, "What did you 'spect? Your affair broke up her marriage. Not a happy memory."

Marty nodded sadly, grabbing the bottle and shakily pouring each of them another shot. "To the one that got away," he said, lifting the glass and down it in one sip. Sasha nodded and took his shot as well. "So what about you, Beloff? You living like a monk in that trailer of yours?"

Sasha snorted and shook his head, "A monk? Not quite," he said.

"So there's a woman? Who? Do I know her?" Marty asked, swaying slightly on the bar stool.

Sasha nodded, but frowned. "Yeah, but can't talk about it."

"It's not one of the gym moms is it? Believe me, that's not something you want to do, too complicated."

"Not a gym mum," Sasha assured him. "But it is complicated."

Marty look skeptical, "Can't get much more complicated than dating a…." he trailed off as his mind wrapped around the idea. "Sasha, you…you didn't…"

Sasha sighed, suddenly sobering a little as he recognized the understanding on Marty's face. "Don't worry about it, Marty," he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Who?" he asked, shaking his head, obviously trying to clear it of the alcoholic haze, "Not Kaylie or Lauren," he mused aloud, not even needing Sasha to confirm it. "Not Emily either," Marty said, his jaw twitching as process of elimination left him with just one option. "Payson?" he asked from between gritted teeth. "I saw you dancing with her the other night. And you lectured me for crossing a line." He laughed, though it held little humor.

Sasha sat silently, staring at the bar, "It's no excuse," he began slowly, "but we fell in love."

Marty looked skeptical. "And you've been keeping it a secret?" he asked, though it wasn't a question.

"A few people know: her parents, my dad, Emily, Kaylie, Lauren, Austin Tucker and now you." Sasha picked up the bottle of liquor and poured another two shots, quickly downing his.

"Her parents know? Guessing Mark Keeler didn't like that much," Marty said.

"He liked his fist hitting my jaw though," Sasha acknowledged, refilling his glass again, frowning as he emptied the bottle.

Marty laughed, the alcohol clearly regaining control if amusement was winning out over his anger. "I should hit you too, been waiting for a good excuse for years."

"Save it, you'd fall down if you tried now," Sasha mumbled and Marty nodded, acknowledging the truth of the statement. Sasha stood, shakily and tossed a few bills on the bar. "I'm done," he said.

"Yeah, me too," Marty said and together they swayed and stumbled out of the bar into the hotel lobby.

"Speak of the devil," Sasha muttered as they moved across the lobby towards the elevator bay. There, just ahead of them, were Payson and Austin. His voice must have been louder than he thought because they both turned around immediately and caught sight of him.

"She cheating on you with Tucker?" Marty asked and Sasha turned to him with a glare.

"Shhh," Sasha scolded.

"Marty, Sasha," Payson said, as she approached them. Christ, she looks good, Beloff. Look at her in that dress. Makes you want to go press her up against a wall somewhere. Why not?

"Payson," he said, moving towards her, his arm sliding around her waist. "you look amazing, love."

"Sasha?" she asked, turning away from him, looking at Austin. "How much have you had to drink?" she asked, as he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her in close to him.

She didn't pull away, which Sasha took as a good sign. She had to be feeling it too, after spending a week apart. "Not enough to forget I shouldn't be doing this, but enough not to care," he murmured close to her ear. He felt her entire body shiver in his arms. "Let's go upstairs, love."

She turned away from him again. "Austin, would you…" she trailed off. Sasha looked up to see Austin haul Marty up from against the wall of the lobby, pulling his arm around his shoulders to help him walk. Sasha frowned. He forgot Marty was a bit of a lightweight and was probably much drunker than he was.

"Got it, Pay," Austin said, as he and Marty made their way towards the elevators.

"You got drunk?" Payson asked, pulling away from him finally, though she didn't walk away. "And here I thought I was the only one suffering this week."

Sasha looked at her as they walked towards the elevator bay and wondered how he'd missed it. The tension in her eyes, the stiffness in her shoulders, telltale signs of frustration. It had taken a bottle of whiskey to show him what he should have been able to see stone cold sober. "I'm a bloody idiot," he said, as they reached the elevators.

"Yes, you are" she agreed, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling at him brightly, "but then so am I."

They entered the lift and as it rose floor by floor, Sasha felt his stomach turn. He was eternally grateful when the doors opened on their floor.

They walked silently down the hallway and stopped, reaching the door to his room first. "I don't suppose…" he trailed off, as she shook her head. "Didn't think so." He took his room key from his pocket and turned to unlock the door when he felt her smaller hand slip into his. She tugged on it gently and he turned back towards her.

She stepped closer to him and he pressed himself back against his door, his hands falling immediately to her hips. Her eyes held his firmly as one hand reached up to caress against his jaw line, slowly drawing his mouth down to hers. The kiss was soft, their tongues just barely touching, though he drew her body into his, relishing the way she felt pressed up against him, so much smaller and yet fitting so perfectly against his frame.

"Good night, Sasha," she said as she pulled away, sashaying down the hallway and quickly slipping into her hotel room as he stood there struck dumb by her kiss. He smirked as he unlocked his door and stepped into his room. The smirk quickly turned into a frown as he turned and saw Marty worshiping the porcelain god in their bathroom, the coughing and gagging enough to turn his own stomach.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, moving into the bathroom, leaning against the counter.

"Shut the fuck up, Beloff," Marty said as he heaved again, quickly up onto his knees, leaning over the bowl.

"Right then," Sasha said, making a quick exit. He grabbed a water bottle and downed it along with two aspirin, which would hopefully help him avoid a hangover tomorrow before stripping out of his clothes and into a pair of pajama pants.

He went to check on Marty, who was just sitting against the bathroom wall now, no longer bent over the bowl. "Better out than in, yeah?" he asked, filling a glass with water from the tap and handing it to his friend.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" Marty said, sipping the water carefully.

"Yeah, I know," Sasha said.

"Good and I am going to hit you, eventually," Marty added, "Just not when the room is spinning."

"Right," Sasha agreed, extending a hand to help him up, "how about this, one free shot, after the games. I'll even promise not to hit back."

Marty nodded as he stood, "You deserve it."

"I know I do," he said as they moved back into the room.

Marty tossed himself down onto his bed and Sasha climbed into his, flicking off the light.

For a moment the only sound in the room was of their breathing, Marty's harsher and faster than his. "You know what else you deserve, Beloff?" his voice echoed in the dark.

"What's that?" he asked, his eyes already closed, sleep quickly overtaking him.

"You deserve to be happy, after everything, you deserve happiness. She makes you happy?"

"She does," Sasha said.

"Good."

The silence reigned again and Sasha felt himself drifting away.

"You're still a real asshole though."

He smiled as he slipped easily into sleep for the first time that week.