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: Oh man, here we go. Here. We. Go.
Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I don't own the characters in this show.
Sarah Walker was incredibly grateful that she would have a few days before their first match against China and the opening ceremonies, because she could already guess just how hard the jet lag was going to screw her up. She'd only been able to sleep an hour or two in fits and spurts and she'd forgotten sleeping pills. The rest of her team was at the front of the plane and Chuck didn't bring any sleep aids.
And yet, he was conked out next to her. She didn't understand how he did it. Maybe because the lights in the cabin were all turned down low. She thought that must be it. Or maybe he was just one of those lucky people who could fall asleep at will.
Either way, she was not one of those people. And that meant she was sitting here alone with her thoughts on a seventeen hour plane trip. That wasn't even counting the connection flight they took from Seattle.
She turned to glance at her seat partner, her mixed doubles partner, her San Jose roommate, and now her Olympic Village roommate, too. His face was turned away from her, but she could see the outline of his strong jaw, his cute nose that had a bit of a button at the end of it, and his stupidly long eyelashes, too. How was that even fair?
And without even realizing what she was doing, she reached over to fix his blanket that had fallen off of his shoulder, gently moving her fingers up to his curls. She just barely felt their softness under her fingers and pulled back quickly, rolling her eyes at herself and glancing around to make sure no one saw it.
That was the last thing she needed, especially with the way Jane had been fishing ever since that day at the Curling Center when she found out Bryce was going to be the curling commentator. That man thrived on drama, didn't he? He'd made his career with her through false publicity that treated them like a Disney prince and his princess. Then he'd gotten modeling contracts off of the almost cruel publicity that came from their overblown split. And now he was hired to give commentary about curling and she knew it was because people would be watching to see what he said when giving commentary for Sarah's matches with Chuck. He was milking their break-up for everything that it was worth. She hated him for it.
But then again, like Jane had said when she followed her into the lobby that afternoon a few days ago, what else did the poor bastard have going for him? Pffft, like she'd responded then, a modeling career, a model girlfriend… Jane reminded her that he'd gotten that because of the break-up, though. When this all died down, would any of that even last?
Sarah hoped not. She hoped he settled down somewhere far from wherever she was and just…disappeared, frankly. She was done with the nonsense that came from ever meeting him in the first place. She'd grown out of him, away from him.
And it frustrated her that it wasn't as obvious to others that she had. She got why. That conversation with Jane had helped a lot.
"You're not still stuck on that asshole, are you?"
Sarah frowned deeper and crossed her arms, giving Jane a droll look.
"Well, if you're not, that isn't really coming through. The angry way you left the lounge looked to me, and probably to everyone else in there, like he's still got his pretty boy claws in you." Sarah must've given her a harsher look because she held her hands up in surrender. "I'm just giving you some truth you may need to hear."
Sarah huffed and nodded, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. "I am done with him. By the time he broke it off, there wasn't anything there anymore. I just didn't do anything about it because it was…easy."
"I'm sure the sponsorships helped." Sarah glared. "Hey, I ain't judgin'. If I got a sponsorship just for being with a guy, I'd stay around that guy even if there wasn't even a thread of romance left anymore. That's money curlers don't usually get." She shrugged.
"Exactly. But I immediately felt better when I wasn't with him anymore, in spite of the whole mess of things that it came with. So I swear to you, I am over him. I am. It's just…" She sighed. "It stings. I'm trying to progress, move forward with my life, with this partnership with Chuck now…And he keeps just popping up in front of my face. I'm freaking sick of it. He's doing this shit on purpose."
"Yeah, knowing what I know about Bryce Larkin after these last four years, I'd say you've hit a bullseye with that theory. Imagine the attention he's getting now. Imagine how much more he'll get if you let his being there throw you off your game. You know he wants that shit, the weasel." She grumbled under breath at him and Sarah lifted her eyebrows, nodding slowly. The thing was, Sarah wasn't entirely sure anymore that she could do this without being thrown off her game. Not because Bryce would be there in PyeongChang, but because he wasn't on her team. What if he was the reason why they'd even won the scant amount of matches they'd won in the first place? What if she was the one holding things back?
Now he'd left the professional curling community and she was still in it, when she'd been the weak link this whole time…
"I don't know, Jane. What if these people are right? What if Bryce was the strong player on the team?"
She wasn't prepared for the snort and the laugh. Jane put her hand on her shoulder and looked at her through her eyelashes. "Are you seriously serious right now, Sarah?"
Sarah shrugged.
"Oh, girl. Never ever ever let a man make you feel like this. It's exactly what they want. They dump you and leave you by the side of the road, hoping you miss them, leaving you with this vision of them that is way better than reality." She shook her head. "Trust me, I know. I'm almost forty years old and I have seen my fair share of men just like Bryce Larkin. He was not better than you. Not at being a person, let alone at curling." She huffed and shook her head. "Do you really not know that you're the best curler in this whole damn country? If anything he was dragging you down and we all saw it. I saw it, Casey, Tyler, Anna, Mark, the rest of the team…Chuck definitely saw it."
Sarah turned to look at Jane, unaware of how wide-eyed she was when she did it, or how fast it had been. "What do you mean, Chuck definitely saw it?"
Jane shrugged, but Sarah saw a hint of amusement or pleasure or something tugging at the corner of the other woman's mouth. "I don't know. I'm just saying he saw it. The guy worships your curling talents."
She tried not to look too pleased by that because things were still…awkward there. She'd almost kissed him and that just wasn't a path she wanted to go down. At all. Not again. He probably was so confused and hurt and mad still, that she'd run out of there like that. She was mad at herself. But she just couldn't compromise this chance at proving she could do this for herself…being an Olympic athlete, winning matches…doing it without Bryce Larkin and without the Curling Couple moniker.
"Well…thank you, Jane. Means a lot. I just get caught up in my head, I guess."
"Stop freakin' going on Twitter, for God's sake. It's basically hell on Earth. I see the shit your so-called fans post. Based on that creepy calling you 'mom' and Bryce 'dad' shit, they have some serious issues and just please, please stay away from it. Don't listen to them. Don't do anything because of what they say. You hear me? I'm older than you."
Sarah chuckled and nodded. "I hear you. Got it. You should probably tell Chuck that, though. I have a feeling he looks at Twitter too much. And I know they say horrible things about him." She winced. "I feel bad. It's kinda my fault in a way."
"Pfft. Assholes are gonna be assholes no matter what material they get, or from where." She chuckled then. "It's funny, I legitimately did not like Chuck Bartowski for at least a month when Beckman first dragged his tall ass onto our team."
"What?" Sarah frowned. "Why?"
"Some random-ass kid shows up, just gets magically 'recruited' onto the team," she said, doing air quotes with her fingers, "we're suddenly supposed to fold this novice into our clique? No. Nuh uh. And he was some kinda goody-two-shoes, always smiiiiling, being nice to everybody. Suckin' up. Mmm mm."
Sarah felt her hackles raise and she sat up a bit straighter. "Well, that's just Chuck. He wasn't sucking up. He's just a genuinely nice person. Thoughtful. Kind. Always thinking of others. It's how he is inherently. And I mean, it wasn't random. Beckman knew what she was doing…"
Jane held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa. Okay, Miss Defensive." That amused and/or pleased pull at her lips was back again and Sarah had a feeling she knew what it was now, so she decided it best to just shut up. "The guy is a good damn curler, even for being so new to the sport and to the team. He's proven himself worthy. He can hang with us." She smirked. "I thought he was entitled, showing up and thinking he could play in the big leagues. But nah. He can play in the big leagues, and he's the least entitled guy I've ever met. That includes the rest of the men on our team." She rolled her eyes and Sarah snorted quietly. "He's actually the perfect partner for you, I think."
Sarah gave her friend a dubious look.
"He is. Because he is working hard to make sure he's earning this opportunity. I see him hard at work every time I'm here at the center. Researching, working out in the gym, talking strategy with Casey, much to the big guy's chagrin sometimes. This one time I walked in on them talking in the lounge, I'm pretty sure Casey just wanted to enjoy his cheesesteak in peace."
The younger woman laughed and shook her head. "I can see it."
"But most importantly, Chuck is devoted to you." Sarah just barely held back a choking sound and instead made it into a pointed clear of her throat, giving Jane Bentley the flattest look she could muster. She knew exactly what she was playing at, and especially in light of what had happened a few weeks earlier in that hotel room in Mammoth, there was no way she was giving this woman any kind of fodder for that line of thinking. "To the team," Jane said, a smirk on her face. "Your mixed doubles team, I meant. Of course."
"Of course," Sarah drawled, shaking her head.
But because life seemed to get a kick out of throwing Sarah Walker for a loop, she'd overheard Chuck and Lester in the hallway not fifteen minutes later. Jane had left and she was going back towards the lounge to grab her things and head out herself, skipping the workout she'd planned on. She heard Lester first, flippantly insulting—and never really meaning much harm, Sarah knew, but God the guy had no idea about social cues.
It hurt to hear him talk that way, especially after what Jane said, about them all thinking Bryce was the weak link in the team, that Sarah was the strongest curler. Apparently not everyone thought that.
Apparently not everyone had faith that she could do this without her erstwhile partner, with this new partner.
But then she'd heard a loud thump and a whimper of fear. And she'd quickly peeked around the corner to watch as Chuck royally handed Lester's ass to him. The way he'd threatened him, told him to never repeat "that bullshit about her" to anyone, let alone around her. The look on his face. The look on Lester's face.
She'd never seen Chuck that way. He was always so…warm and jolly, self-deprecating, loose, thoughtful. He'd been tight, tense, jaw clenched, eyes flashing and dark…
And damn her for being turned on by the whole thing.
She hated herself for it. She really did. Because she was trying to stop the feelings that had made her try to kiss him in that hotel room. This definitely didn't help. He'd stuck up for her in a big way. And the way he'd called Lester's theory bullshit meant he genuinely did believe she could do this. Jane confirmed how hard he was working even when Sarah wasn't around.
And that was part of the thing that kind of stung, wasn't it? Chuck hadn't been around much, at least not where she was. And she thought he was purposely avoiding her outside of training. The nights when they'd sat watching TV, sitting on either side of the couch and laughing at the trashy people on the reality shows she watched with no small amount of shame. Making meals together on the rare occasion. Buying equipment together. Carpooling.
He even bought a cheap, second-hand bicycle to ride to training sessions, claiming it was good for his workout regimen. She knew he did it so that they weren't forced to sit in the car together for the ten minute drive to the Curling Center from their apartment.
And it hurt.
Because that almost-kiss aside, she'd grown to genuinely enjoy the friendship that had blossomed there. She'd missed that the last few weeks. It felt strange being in their apartment alone for the most part, hearing him come in when she was already in bed and assuming he'd waited that long to avoid being alone with her.
Worst than that, she was all too aware of how poorly she'd performed in that last day of the tournament. They'd gotten whooped. Beckman shrugged it off, said it was encouraging they won three of their games. But Sarah wasn't encouraged by the mistakes she'd made. She hadn't slept at all the night before, tossing and turning and thinking about how badly she'd screwed up. Nervous about seeing Chuck at the gym that next morning, wondering what he thought about her now. Or would he internalize it? Would he think she'd run away because there was something wrong with him?
And it had gotten into her blood.
The fatigue combined with the unsureness about where Chuck's head was at, the lack of focus and concentration, had destroyed her game completely. And Chuck wasn't far behind her.
It was hard not to have doubts about these games and her performance after struggling through that third day of the tournament, on top of the way she and her teammate were just so off-balance these last few weeks.
She was drowning in said doubts when Chuck shifted in his seat next to her. She turned to watch as he blinked a few times before moving his gaze to her. He blinked again, looking confused, and she wondered for a moment if he even knew where he was. He looked around, figured it out, and smiled sleepily at her. The entire sequence was probably one of the cutest things she'd seen in awhile, and she smiled back at him. "Hi."
"Hey," he drawled, and then he furrowed his brow, pulling his wrist up to look at his watch. Then he must have realized the time he currently had on his watch meant nothing up here in the middle of the Pacific, because he scoffed at himself and lowered his hand again. "What, uh, what are you doing awake? You okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Just having trouble sleeping."
"Oh." He shifted to sit up straight in his seat, letting the blanket fall into his lap and pushing a hand through his messy curls. "You wanna switch seats with me? You'd get this wall here to lean against. Might be more comfortable."
She smiled and shook her head. "No, it's okay. Thanks, though. It's not that I'm uncomfortable. Just a lot on my mind. You know. I'm going to the Olympics and it's kind of a big deal."
"Yeah." He widened his eyes and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. She probably shouldn't have noticed how slowly he let it go again. "I've been before and I'm still nervous, so I can't imagine how you feel."
"Can't you? What about four years ago? That was your first Olympics."
"Oh. Yeah, but…I don't know. It was different. Nobody knew who the hell I was. I didn't get any promotion going into it. I was the third-ranked ski jumper the U.S. sent to the Olympics. There was no pressure except what I put on myself. I put out some good jumps—personal best, as a matter of fact—got to enjoy the games, see my people compete. It was pretty great." He chuckled and shook his head. "This feels…uh, not the same."
She felt her face fall and she looked at the back of the seat in front of her. "You're not wrong."
Sarah hadn't meant for the tone to be there, and he must have picked up on it, because an uncomfortable quiet settled between them then.
"Hey…Sarah. Since we're both awake and we've got some hours yet 'til we land, um…" He let out a long breath and Sarah had no idea what was coming next. She braced herself either way. "I want to clear the air. Between us. Because I owe you an apology. A big one."
She was surprised enough that she couldn't come up with any kind of response. He owed her an apology?
"I'm sorry I crossed the line with you. I overstepped big time, and I'm really sorry, Sarah. There's no excuse for it. I mean, the federation, Becks and Graham, you, everyone else on the team, you all have given me this massive opportunity, one I never even dreamed I'd ever get in a million years. And instead of grabbing the opportunity by the horns and working my ass off to earn the trust you've put in me, I took advantage in the wrong way. I slipped up. You have been so patient and kind, and you were especially kind that night, and I just felt a certain amount of intimacy that…I must have just misunderstood completely." He looked away and shook his head, looking incredibly mortified, and her chest was absolutely aching. "Of course you were nice, that's just you. You're just…so nice. To everyone. I just messed up and I'm really sorry."
She had to clean this up, because he was taking all of it on himself and she felt terrible that he'd carried this around all these weeks. "Chuck, please…You didn't—"
"No, Sarah. I know you're just being nice, making me feel better. But I don't—What I mean is, please let me just get this off my chest. I owe you an explanation for my bad behavior."
She sat back against her seat and nodded, folding her hands in her lap.
"Thank you." Chuck rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Instead of just apologizing the next day, I was so freaking embarrassed that I just…avoided it instead. And then I avoided it the next day and the next day. And things were so…awkward…just off between us. This was my bad, you know?" he said, keeping his voice low thankfully. They were surrounded on all sides by other athletes, after all, and she didn't want this conversation to be heard by anyone. Not anyone. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me. I didn't want you to have to make changes to your lifestyle, or have to go out of your way to avoid me to minimize the amount of uncomfortable situations…So I took it upon myself to do the avoiding. Instead of just apologizing like an adult. Took me four weeks to do this just about, and I'm not proud of it. At all. I made a mistake and then dealt with it like an immature moron. Like, this was some middle school behavior and I have no excuse. I'm just sorry."
His voice finally drifted off and he rolled his head to the side towards the window, reaching out to slip it open. It was pitch black out there, but he was looking anyway. Probably because he was mortified.
"You bought that bicycle to avoid me…" She knew it wasn't right, but she was almost amused at the thought of it. He really was silly.
Chuck winced as he turned back and shrugged. "It was twenty-five bucks on Craigslist. And I didn't want…I didn't want you to have to figure out some way to keep from being in the car with me ten to fifteen minutes each way to and from practice, so I just thought I'd make it easier on you and bike there."
"Chuck, that's—You didn't have to do that. You shouldn't have felt like you had to do any of this."
"I'm the one who leaned in to kiss you that night, I'm the one who ruined the nice time we were having by trying to make this into something it isn't."
"No, Chuck, you aren't."
"I—What?" He blinked.
She smiled a little. "I'm not gonna lie, I felt like I was the one leaning in." His brow furrowed in question. "Chuck, I'm so sorry I let you carry this burden this whole time. That almost-kiss wasn't something you did alone. I was equally involved. Th-That was why I pulled back so fast. It wasn't you…"
He groaned softly. "Please don't 'it wasn't you, it was me' about this. Please."
Sarah giggled and shook her head. "I'm not. I ran away from you because I wanted to kiss you, not because I didn't want to." His eyes slowly widened at that revelation, but he still looked so adorably confused.
This wasn't something she wanted right now, not when she was about to curl in an Olympic tournament for the first time ever in her life. And, depending on how it went, perhaps the last time. But she wasn't going to let him internalize her resistance and think there was something wrong with him.
She had yet to discover anything that was wrong with him. Everything about him just felt…right.
"Chuck, I spent the last three years curling with Bryce in mixed doubles events. We became media darlings to the point where I felt trapped in that situation. It's…not great that the next partner I work with after my first partner dumps me, I end up trying to kiss him on a bed in a hotel room after a game." She kept her eyes on his, willing him to understand. "I don't want to get a reputation. That's part of it. Sarah Walker always dates her partner. I can just see the bullshit posts about it on social media. And I just—I don't want that distraction to be there when I'm trying to compete in the Olympics."
Silence settled between them for a few moments, and then he shifted and let out a long sigh. "You wanted to kiss me?" She gave him a flat look, unable to keep from seeing the humor in it. "I-I'm sorry," he rushed out, almost whispering now. "I promise, I heard everything you said. It just…surprises me that you actually wanted—Wait, so the intimacy I felt? I didn't make that up?"
"I don't think so. Haven't you felt it, Chuck? Building?"
"Yes," he breathed immediately, a dreamy look on his face. "I thought it was just me."
"Well, it wasn't." She sighed. "It isn't. I just…I can't let this be a distraction. We can't let this be a distraction. I don't want to fall into the media's narrative: me hopping from Bryce to Chuck, my new partner. I don't want to see any shitty tabloid headlines about you being a rebound or someone I'm using to make Bryce jealous, because I know they will. I know how that crap works now."
He nodded. "No, I hear you. I heard you the before, too. I just got a little…caught up in the first thing. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I understand, Sarah. It wouldn't look very good if we allowed anything to…erm…happen. But I—I need you to know. I didn't take this job, I didn't join this team, this partnership, expecting anything from you except what we do together out on that ice, during matches and in training. I'd never presume you'd ever—" He shook his head, eyes wide. "I'm basically over here with my brain malfunctioning over the idea of you wanting to kiss me, so of course I'd never expect you to date me." He huffed. "Especially knowing the way the media's been treating you, a-and me, I never thought the fact that you were romantically involved with your last partner meant you'd wanna be romantically involved with me. I guess that's the point I'm trying to make. And badly."
Chuck shut his eyes, obviously embarrassed. She needed to set him at ease, though. She could see he was unraveling. So she reached over and threaded her fingers through his and squeezed his hand. "I don't think you're doing all that badly. It's actually pretty sweet. I'm starting to realize 'pretty sweet' is a constant thing with you, and maybe that's why it was so easy for me to throw caution to the wind for those few moments that night. I like you, Chuck."
She didn't pick up on it at the time, but something happened inside her when she witnessed the way he practically melted into his seat, a warm smile stretching over his face and wrinkling his nose. "Well." He cleared his throat and straightened up again, scratching the back of his head. "I tend to be kind of transparent, so I think you probably already know that I like you."
Sarah beamed, shifting in her seat to face him better. "I know. I mean…I've known."
"Doesn't bode well for the rest of this tournament, though. Since I've done such a poor job of hiding it up 'til now." He chuckled.
"I believe in you."
"Aw, thanks," he drawled, making her giggle.
She inadvertently leaned in closer to him, feeling fatigue start to really take over, a strange sense of ease coming upon her now that the air between them was cleared, now that he knew where she stood. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't…and strangely enough, she was okay with it.
"For the record, this is the first time I've felt like we were on the same page in weeks," he said then, smiling slowly at her. It made her blood heat up a bit.
"Yeah. Agreed. So we…we focus on the matches, on our strategies, on winning as many as we can. Right?"
"Right. No romance stuff. Just curling."
"Just curling," she repeated. "We both owe it to ourselves to have the best tournament of our lives."
"We do." He paused then, biting his lip and wrinkling his nose with a one-shouldered shrug. "But after? What happens then?"
God, maybe this would be difficult. But she was willing to do whatever it took to prove herself in PyeongChang, to succeed not in spite of Bryce not being her teammate, but because he wasn't her teammate. She'd show everybody. Most important of all, she'd show herself.
"One thing at a time, Chuck."
-oooo-
Chuck Bartowski straight up gawked at the apartment as he stepped inside. Sarah was already squealing at it, and he found himself gawking at her then, because he had never heard a sound like that come out of that woman before.
He didn't judge.
"This is amazing!" he gasped. "Oh my God!"
"Look at the little pillows on our couch!" She grabbed one and threw it at him.
Chuck caught it with a yelp and turned it over to look at it. It was red and blue with U.S.A. printed on it in white letters. "Whaaaat? This is so cool!"
"And the view, oh my God. Look!"
He scurried up next to her and peered out of their window, looking at the beautiful slopes stretching up the mountain outside. "Ellie's gonna be on that. Maybe. I actually don't know where the alpine courses are but it's something I mean to find out. I refuse to miss her races."
She grinned. "I'll go with, as long as we can at least see one of the snowboarding events. Your friend—Morgan, was it? The short guy with the beard we met at the airport when we landed. I dunno, I was way tired and a little loopy. But I want to see him do that halfpipe thing."
"Deal." He stuck a hand out and they shook.
Because that was just the way things seemed to be going between them now, they both held on a little longer than was necessary. Amusement came across both their faces and they broke it off, Sarah moving away from him with a bit of a look over her shoulder as she stepped into the part of the apartment with their beds.
Chuck let out a slow breath and followed after her.
"Whoooaaaaaa! These are pretty big beds. PyeongChang went all out. And look at the little people doing the different events on the bedspreads. Thaaat's adorabllllle." He dropped his bags at the foot of the bed furthest from the window and jumped up into the air, landing on the mattress with a bouncy fwoomp! "Ugh, this is stupidly comfortable."
"Well, I guess you've picked your bed, then."
He sat up, eyes wide. "Oh! Did you want this one? I didn't—"
She just laughed at him and shook her head, tossing one of her suitcases onto the end of the other bed. "I don't care. I was just messing with you." She sobered a bit then as she leaned down to grab the card on the nightstand next to her bed. "Hey, it says we get to keep the bedding."
He didn't know why she happened to glance over at him right then, but when their eyes met, they both looked away quickly.
There was suddenly a knock on their door.
Chuck frowned and climbed up to his feet, exchanging a look with Sarah before going into the other room to open the door.
"HEY!"
Morgan threw his hands up over his head and leaned back, letting out a loud Chewie cry.
Chuck made his fingers into a gun. "Peeeooom! I shot first!"
They both laughed and lunged together in a tight hug.
When they broke apart, Morgan smacked him on the chest with an open hand. "My man, Chuck! How's it goin', dude? You two settlin' in okay?"
"Yeah! How'd you know where they put me?"
His best friend made a 'please' face and pointed to himself. "The Beard knows, dude." Chuck gave him a flat look and he shrugged. "Nah, I texted Ellie and asked her. I figured she'd know."
His eyes flicked to something over Chuck's shoulder then. Chuck turned and saw Sarah standing there, smiling tentatively with her arms crossed over her chest.
"There's Sarah! Hi! Great! This is perfect. We all have to stay awake for as long as we can and some of my snowboard brethren are going to the hot tubs—"
"Oh, I, uh, I don't—" Chuck tried, feeling dread go through him.
"Nah, don't worry, I got you covered, dude. Do you really think I've got my best hot tub body goin' on right now? No! In fact, I added a bit of blubber in the lead up to the Olympics, 'cause I was like, dude, I'm gonna be in some cold-ass weather and I gotta keep warm, y'know?" He shook his head. "No way am I getting in a hot tub. I was gonna say, there are video game consoles down in the lounges and nobody was using 'em!"
Relief flooded through Chuck. "Oh thank God."
"Dude, come on. There are some stupidly good-looking dudes in my event. I am not about to take my shirt off and stand next to those Adonis mo'fo's. I'll never get an Olympic girlfriend like that."
"An Olympic girlfriend?" Sarah asked as Chuck opened the door wider and let Morgan sneak into the room a bit.
"Yeah. Listen, I've only got the one halfpipe event. So much extra time for extracurriculars." His grin shone bright behind his beard.
"Why are we friends?" Chuck asked.
"Dude, don't even. Four years ago you were pullin' like—mfffffff!" Chuck slapped a hand over Morgan's mouth and turned to grin innocently at Sarah.
"You pulled, huh?" she asked, raising her eyebrow. "Is that why people come to the Olympics?"
"Athletics," he said. "Athletics only."
Morgan shoved his hand away. "Yeah. Athletics. Right. That's how we get here, but then once we get here…"
"Stop. Please. Let's go play video games. Wanna play video games, Sarah?"
"Uhhh…I think maybe…"
"C'mon, Sarrr," the Bearded One drawled. "If we leave you here, you're going to sleep and then jet lag is going to catch up to you later and your whole sleeping schedule will be off. TRUST, girl. Trust."
She gave him a look. "All right, fine. But don't ever call me Sar again."
Morgan bowed deeply at the waist. "My lady, I will not. I promise."
"Good."
She opened the door and was the first out into the hallway, badge in hand. "You guys coming?"
Chuck exchanged a look with Morgan, smirking a little, and then he followed Sarah, pulling his own badge out from the inner pocket of his Team U.S.A. jacket. "Let's do this."
-oooo-
Sarah heard things come out of her mouth that she'd never thought she'd ever hear come out of her mouth.
Things like, "Don't you freaking blow my head off! I'll blow your head off!"
And, "Stop bunny hopping, you nimble asshole!"
And also, "Just domed your ass! Suck it!"
But all in all, she found playing video games was a pretty enjoyable situation when there were other people to compete against. And when she knew what she was doing. She saw Chuck playing video games all the time in their apartment in San Jose when they were preparing for the Olympics. But she'd just given him a look when he'd invited her to play. She wished she'd accepted his invitation now, though, because she would've whooped this British bobsledder at whatever this war game was called even harder than she already did.
Chuck's hand jutted in front of her and she let go of the controller with one hand and slapped it hard. "That's right!"
"I don't know if I am more emasculated or turned on," her opponent said, pushing a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day Cole Barker would lose a game to a girl, but here we are."
"Woman," Sarah said, dropping the controller onto the couch between them with the flourish of a mic drop.
"I stand corrected, and I think turned on wins the day," he said, giving her a look.
Sarah inwardly rolled her eyes so hard she almost fell off of the couch. "Morgan, how'd I do? I don't feel like my opponent was much of a challenge this time, so it's hard to gauge."
She heard Chuck's, "Oh ho ho hoooo!" and saw him put a fist to his mouth in her peripheral.
Standing up from the couch, she turned to face Morgan where he'd planted himself behind her to give her helpful pointers. It seemed he had yet to pick his jaw up from the floor. Chuck reached out to nudge his wrist and he shook himself. "You might be a virtuoso. That was inspired, Sarah Walker."
She bowed. "Thank you. Anybody want some hot cocoa?"
They declined and she headed over to the snack table by herself. It wasn't until she grabbed herself a cup and tried to shimmy towards the hot cocoa machine that she realized Cole Barker the Bobsled Pilot had joined her. He was blocking her path to the hot cocoa and it was annoying.
"Let me get that for you, milady," he said, his voice silky and smooth. And the way he took the cup from her hand, his fingers brushing hers, left no questions in her mind as to what his goal was here. She thought maybe if she was someone else, in some other situation, she might be interested in Cole Barker. But she was Sarah Walker, in this situation, and she wasn't interested. Flattered, sure. Of course.
He filled the cup with hot cocoa and handed it back to her. "There you are."
"Thanks."
"Where'd you learn to play like that?"
"Oh, we've actually been at that game for hours today. I've got two great coaches. They made real inroads with my technique, and now look at me," she said, taking a careful sip of the steaming drink. "A pro."
He chuckled and popped his eyebrows. "I'm really impressed. If only there was an Olympic Video Game medal, you'd take it over a lot of the guys I've met here."
"No, probably not. But I'll settle for whooping your ass, bobsledder."
The look he gave her left nothing to the imagination. "So what are you here for? Wait, don't tell me. Let me guess."
She let him run his eyes up and down her just this once. It was kind of refreshing that this guy didn't know what sport she was here for, who she was. Someone who didn't know about the drama with Bryce Larkin and Sarah Walker.
"…Alpine skier. That, uh, giant slalom thing."
"Nope."
"Well, if I could see a little leg, I might be able to tell if you're in a sliding sport—luge, skeleton?"
"You will not be seeing my legs."
"Shame."
"And no, I'm not in luge or skeleton."
"Hockey?" She shook her head. "You're a figure skater. You've absolutely got that look. Out of this world beauty, grace…"
"Ha, no."
"I'm really striking out here."
In more ways than one, she wanted to say. But there was no reason for her to be outwardly mean. Yeah, he was entitled and apparently thought a lot of himself. But she thought maybe all bobsledders were like this. They jumped into a sled and zoomed down an ice chute of death. She imagined they were confident in a lot of aspects of their lives.
She took another long sip and said nothing.
"Again, you won't let me see your legs so I can't be sure but speed skating?"
Sarah chuckled and shook her head. "Oh hell no. That shit's so dangerous. I'd never do that."
Cole laughed and leaned a bit closer. She leaned back, even took a bit of a step back.
"I am throwing in the towel. What's your sport, gorgeous?" He grabbed his own cup and got some of the hot cocoa, taking a sip and making a face. "Ugh. This is terrible. You haven't had real hot cocoa until you've had hot cocoa in Paris. I could take you there. It'd be an adventure."
Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly, twisting her lips to the side and narrowing her eyes. "I think this is pretty good hot cocoa. And unfortunately, no adventures for me. After these games are over, I've got another bonspiel calling my name. Have to train for that."
"Bon-whatnow?"
"Bonspiel. It's a curling tournament."
His jaw dropped. "You're in curling! I never would have guessed!"
She shrugged.
"That's pretty hot. I hear those stone thingies are, like, fifty pounds." Then he leaned in and pointed. "And I like my women with brooms in their hands. Ha!" She gave him a sharp look and he held up his hand in surrender, wincing. "That was a joke. Bad joke. Bad joke, I regret it."
"You should." She took another sip from her hot cocoa and made to walk away but he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
"I'm sorry for the bad joke, but I'm pretty sincere about my interest, here. You're an exciting woman, Sarah. This is a long Olympics. I'd like to get to know you. Yes, we're from different countries, but the U.S. and the U.K. became pretty good friends after the whole Revolutionary War thing blew over." He smirked. "I like you. I think we could do amazing things, you and me."
"Thank you for the thought. Really. But I have a lot to focus on."
"Are the other three women on your team as stunning as you are?"
Sarah snorted and turned to glance over her shoulder at the couch where she'd left Chuck and Morgan. The former had very obviously been watching, and he whipped around fast to face the TV again when she looked at him. She felt a smile threaten, and then it broke over her face as she wondered what he was thinking about. "I think he's pretty cute, but I haven't seen enough of him to say he's stunning."
"I, uh, I don't follow."
"That's my partner. Chuck. I'm in mixed doubles."
"What's that mean?"
"It's a team of two. One man, one woman."
"That sounds sexy. How do I get into this sport?"
Sarah rolled her eyes outwardly this time. "A lot of hard work, studying, training, competing."
"I think I could handle that. Then maybe you could replace your current partner with me?"
"Not even if you went through all the bullshit to become a U.S. citizen."
"Fine," he chuckled. "I'm sure it's all much harder than it looks. I have no concept of what goes into other sports after bobsledding for so long. That is not easy."
"Oh, I'm sure."
"But if I can't be your curling partner, maybe I can partner with you in some other way?" Then he narrowed his eyes and glanced over at the couch again. She followed his gaze and giggled quietly at the sight of Morgan yelling and climbing onto Chuck, mimicking beating him up as Chuck laughed and fought him off half-heartedly. "Unless, uh…he's more than your partner."
The way he snorted at that let her know he thought that wasn't a possibility.
She wasn't going to tell him she'd probably spend the next two weeks resisting the urge to use the fact that she was in the same apartment with Chuck to make out with his face. If she didn't resist that, the figurative bases would end up obliterated in a hot second. She just knew it. She could feel it in her bones.
Especially now that they'd finally leveled with each other on the plane. And in spite of what they'd agreed upon, Sarah had slept for the rest of the flight holding his hand under the blankets. And she'd secretly thought it wasn't fair that he'd spent at least the last hour of it awake. He'd gotten to experience an intimacy she wasn't privy to while she slept…and she wasn't likely to experience any intimacy in the next two and a half weeks. They had a tournament to win.
Well, not win, but…try to win.
"I'm not sure it's your business, but…no, he isn't," she finally said.
"Splendid." Cole Barker grinned. "How about a number where I can reach you?"
Sarah kept the mischief she suddenly felt away from her features and she reached over to grab his hand, pulling a pen out of her jacket…it was a habit Chuck had recently gotten her into. He always kept a pen handy if he needed to write something down, whether it was strategy or something else. She'd quietly started keeping pens on her person, too.
She wrote down a number on his hand.
And she felt good about it when she saw the confident smirk on his face. "Really…Well…Message received."
She just smirked one last time and tossed her empty cup in the trash bin, strolling back to the couch where Chuck and Morgan were both watching this time. She swayed her hips a bit for extra effect.
"Sarah," Morgan whispered as the three of them left the room a few moments later. "Did you just give infamous bobsledding two time medalist Cole Barker your phone number?"
"It was actually a room number," she said.
She felt Chuck tense beside her. But he didn't say anything as Morgan let out a loud, "Daaaaaammmmmnnnnnnn! I mean I'm not surprised you've got game but still daaaammmnnn!"
Sarah met Morgan's high five and laughed. They said goodnight to Morgan, and as soon as the elevator door shut behind him as he got off on his floor, she was left alone with Chuck. And because he was Chuck, he didn't say anything for a bit.
But she could see he was confused, probably even jealous. She let herself enjoy how incredibly cute jealous Chuck was for a few more moments.
"I really hope he enjoys what he finds when he decides to show up at that room number I gave him," she said, careful not to let her amusement show on her face yet.
"Wait…" He frowned at her. "What room number did you give him?"
The door swept open, and as she stepped out of the elevator, she chirped over her shoulder, "Beckman's."
The sound of his hysterical laughter followed her all the way down the hallway.
A/N: (slam dunks) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
-ESC (eeeeevilll ... evil is her one and ooooonly naaaaaaaame)