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: Just so you all know, I have a permanent smirk on my face-a permasmirk, if you will-when I'm writing this story. And as the story progresses, that smirk has been getting wider and wider and wiiiiider. Hehehehehehe.

Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I don't own the characters in this show.

Curling was so different from the ski jumping competition.

That was the first thing that struck him right between the eyes as he and Sarah were led from Gangneung Curling Centre's prep room by attendants towards the massive curling arena.

In Sochi, they'd had a room where all of the jumpers sat on little benches, psyching themselves out, listening to music, rarely talking to one another, putting their ski boots on, checking their gear, until it was their turn to jump. The little room was all the way at the top of the hill, just behind the starting area.

Here, they were tucked somewhere in the belly of the building, down a few hallways, a turn and another turn and another turn, until they got to a sort of tunnel that reminded him of what soccer players walked out of when stepping onto the pitch for the first time.

It was a dim tunnel, long and dim, and he could hear this almost silent hush…

Then they stepped out of the tunnel into the bright lights of the arena and he realized that silent hush was just the crowd being so loud, louder than anything he'd ever heard in his life, that it had almost been like a whisper.

It was such an insane phenomenon that he nearly distracted himself from the fact that a couple thousand people were seated in the stands above, surrounding the multiple curling sheets.

Other teams were already setting up, preparing to start their matches, and Chuck, Sarah, and the Chinese team they were facing were all led to the sheet furthest away, in the back right corner of the arena.

"Okay, this…Wow," he heard Sarah mutter beside him as they walked around the other matches and came upon their own sheet.

"I didn't realize there'd be this many people," Chuck said. "I've never seen this many people. This is what I imagine a Vegas boxing match to be like. And this isn't boxing. It's curling."

Sarah sent him a look and he winced.

"I mean, no offense to curling but this is South Korea and this isn't speed skating we're doin' here. It's curling." He shrugged as she rolled her eyes at him. "Anyway, this pale blue color they're making us wear doesn't flatter me at all. But just so you know, it really brings out your eyes like…" He finished with a choir of angels sound and swept his hand across the air in front of him with a flourish.

"Hey. Stop that. We're being mic'd for TV, remember?"

Chuck cursed inwardly. He'd forgotten. That meant he really had to pay attention to what he said and how he said it. Damn it.

They stood off to the side and allowed their microphones to be clipped onto their pale blue shirts, Chuck just barely catching a miserable look on Sarah's face before she smoothed it over with that curling spy mask she got whenever a match started. He loved that look. It meant she was dialed in, he'd discovered in that tournament a few weeks earlier.

They went through the whole process then, and once everything was set up, they threw their first rock.

Somehow, they managed to survive the first End forcing only one point for China, which was a win considering Li Wei Hu had somehow managed to land three of their rocks closer to the button than Chuck had hoped for. But thankfully Sarah had been tapped to throw their first and last rocks in the End, and her last shot had taken out two of China's rocks.

But even though Chuck and Sarah had come back to score two in the next End, the third and fourth Ends had meant giving up four points, leaving the match halfway finished with two points to China's five.

Thankfully the microphones were turned off for that halftime period and Chuck was assured he could speak freely. He guzzled some water and wiped the sweat from his face, cornering Sarah a bit as she sat back against the wall and took some deep, controlled breaths.

She was sitting on the ground, so he had to crawl down to kneel in front of her.

"Hey. I'm not angry with you or anything, but what happened with that miss in the last End? You never miss a shot like that. Other people do, but never you. Are you okay?" he asked, handing her a water as she opened her eyes. He noticed she'd finished her other one.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a stupid miss. I wasn't concentrating, fingers slipped a bit on the rock's handle when I let it go."

Chuck didn't buy it. But that was probably because she wasn't selling it.

And she got a look on her face like she he wasn't buying it, before she sighed and cracked open the water bottle, throwing back a quarter of the bottle and lowering it to set on the floor beside her again. "Fine, it—You're going to judge me or make assumptions."

"I don't assume, because it makes an ass out of u-m-e."

Sarah lowered her chin, giving him a droll look.

"Sorry. I really won't, though. I promise."

"It was a really quick thing and I'm seriously super mortified that I let it happen. Just incredibly ashamed, but…" She sighed again, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, tilting her head back. "There are some American fans in the stands right behind the house. I looked up to see where you were telling me to place my throw and I saw a sign that said 'Marry me, Bryce' and the person sitting next to her was holding a giant Bryce head on a stick." She groaned covering her face. "I saw it right as I was throwing and that's why it was such a bad shot."

Chuck didn't say anything, just watching as she verbally kicked herself, muttering, "Damn it I'm so stupid. So freaking stupid."

And when she peeked back up at him, he just smiled in understanding. "I saw that, too. When we first came out. I'm really sorry, Sarah. I wish people weren't so terrible at having tact."

"But that's the thing! Even if they did have tact and I hadn't seen the signs, something else would have reminded me that Bryce is sitting up there in a booth somewhere, talking to however many millions of Americans watching this on TV right now. He's giving commentary on my play, and I keep thinking about how pleased he must be with himself. I hate that they did this to me." She huffed and smacked her water bottle, knocking it into the wall.

Chuck moved from kneeling to sitting, grunting, and then he scooted a bit closer to her so the other two teams in the room couldn't hear them. "If the thought of Bryce watching you take your shots is what's causing you to feel this way, I mean just think…wouldn't he be watching this on TV anyway? Even if he wasn't up there somewhere providing commentary for all of America, he'd still be watching you."

She shrugged. "Yeah. But he isn't at home with his Sports Illustrated swimsuit model girlfriend watching me fail without him. He's here. And he gets to tell all of America what he thinks about it. It pisses me off."

"He has a girlfriend in Sports Illustrated?" She gave him a look and he shook himself. "Uh. Sorry. Not the point. But for the record, that sounds like a downgrade to me. Not that I've ever seen you in a swimsuit. I don't need to!" he rushed out, realizing how this was sounding. "I don't…need…to…see you that way. Not that I'd say no if the opportunity ever arose…Why did I say that? Why am I saying any of this?" He felt pressure on his arm and he realized Sarah had reached up to squeeze his bicep. She had a small, warm smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"Because you're sweet," she said in a quiet voice, and she let go of him quickly as another pair walked near them, but the warmth didn't leave her face.

"The—The point I'm trying to make has nothing to do with his girlfriend. I'm trying to say that with or without his commentary, the decisions we make out there need to be just about us, our brains, our game plan. Just the ice. I'm not letting you down, okay? And I, frankly, don't give half a shit what Bryce sees or what he says about it." She snorted softly and he inwardly melted. "Hey, listen. If you happen to look up and see Bryce's big ol' dumb head on a stick again, imagine instead that it's his head on a spike at the entrance to your impenetrable fortress. A warning," he chuckled as she began to laugh, "to all future partners and boyfriends. They better stay put."

She leaned her head back against the wall and laughed, looking up at the ceiling. And then she lowered her head again to look in his eyes. "All future partners and boyfriends?"

"Uh." He didn't know how to respond but a volunteer came in and told them halftime was over, so he climbed up to his feet and reached down towards Sarah. Their eyes met and she slipped her hand into his, squeezing as he helped her to her feet. "Just us, right?"

"Just us."

He held up a fist and she made a fist of her own to pound it. He made an explosion sound and opened his hand, pulling it back, making her smile and roll her eyes, and then they were back out on the ice again.

They scored two more points in the fifth End. But then they had to force one point to China again, leaving the Americans with four points, and the Chinese with six leading into the seventh End.

Now China had two guards set up and some rocks inside of the eight foot ring, all of them surrounding the rock Sarah had thrown earlier to stop directly in the button. There was another one of Chuck and Sarah's yellow rocks just a few inches away, but there were red rocks closer than any of the yellow rocks Chuck had thrown.

Chuck slid all the way down the sheet to Sarah's side, looking up at the time clock to make sure he didn't use up all of their time. "Their guards are in really good spots."

"I know. But I was thinking I could hit the rock at the top of the eight foot, the one closest to me. Just barely skim it, bounce it out of the way, and just freeze my shooter to our rock on the button."

He just barely resisted a small smile, but he felt a twinge behind his bellybutton. This woman loved making difficult throws. She thrived on it. And if that confidence wasn't the hottest thing…

"Do it," he said then, nodding. "Let's do it."

Chuck could only imagine the commentators going on and on about how this idea was crazy…Sarah might throw too hard and knock the button or the second rock out of contention, handing China points. Instead they could just clear the Chinese rock out of contention and take the two points.

But Sarah wanted three. And he trusted her to get three.

So he slid back over to the house and set his broom out to give her a line of vision, help her set up her shot. "Here good?" he called to her.

"I dunno, is it?"

He smirked. "Throw the rock."

She smirked back and got into position at the hack. She threw the rock then and bounded up to her feet, clearing the ice in front of it here and there.

"Good. Line's good," he said, watching the rock's movement. It needed to go a little faster, though, so he slid over to join her. "I got it." She stepped back and he leaned down to start sweeping harder, as hard as he could, because he could see it starting to slow faster than they wanted it to.

"Line looks good," Sarah called. "Hard! HARD!"

He swept as hard as he could, pulling up when he saw his yellow rock tap the red at just the right speed and angle to roll it out of the way. But then their shooter rolled smoothly to sidle up right next to their rock on the button, freezing to it.

The audience near them clapped loudly, appreciative of the risk they took and that it paid off. Sarah slid up behind him and he felt a hand on his bicep. He turned and thrust his hand out. She smirked and smacked it.

"Good shot, skipper."

"Nice sweeping."

With three more points on the scoreboard next to Walker/Bartowski, they took the lead heading into the last End of the match.

But as meticulous as they were with their throws, the Chinese played a masterful End. Their placement was just perfect, and no matter how much Sarah tried to curl, no matter how well Chuck gauged their sweeping, getting around the Chinese team's rocks was difficult.

With their last shot Li Wei Hu had deadly precision, and they were able to get two points, winning the match eight points to the Americans' seven points. They all shook hands, grabbed their towels and drinks, and filed off of the ice into the tunnel.

"Hey, you two did great," Beckman said, joining them in the tunnel and patting them both on their shoulders. She wedged between them and brought them in close. "That was close to a win."

"But it wasn't a win," Sarah said, and Chuck couldn't have agreed more.

"We have eight more matches coming up. Focus on those. We're gonna be okay. I've got to catch up with Graham, but we'll meet tomorrow morning again. Have fun at the ceremony, eh?" And then she dashed off.

He sat on the bench in the prep room for a few minutes before changing out of his curling shoes and back into his boots, just staring at the wall. He was disappointed, going through things he could have done better. He really, really, really hadn't wanted to lose his first Olympic match with Sarah Walker. He'd wanted to give her a better first result. Especially considering all of the pressure he knew she felt on her shoulders.

Chuck really thought when they took the lead that they could keep it through the eighth End and win, show the haters what they were made of. Make Sarah feel better about the whole Bryce situation. He knew she didn't mean to make him feel this way, but every time she doubted whether she could succeed without Bryce as her partner, it hurt a little. He knew it was crazy important that she have faith in herself, in her own abilities. But he wanted her to have trust in him as her partner. Maybe Bryce was just a bad partner—Beckman had practically confirmed that. And maybe Chuck could be the partner she needed, the partner that opens the door for her to make those decadent throws he knew she could make.

And it just felt…bad whenever she questioned whether she could do it without Bryce. Even if she didn't mean to make him feel that way, he still felt it.

Her hand was on his shoulder then. "You ready to go? We have to hurry back and get ready if we're making the opening ceremony."

"Oh! Yeah! Crap!" He glanced at his watch and quickly changed his shoes, shrugging on his multiple layers, throwing his bag over his shoulder and following Sarah out into the elements.

He shivered as they stepped outside and cursed a little. "It's freezing!"

"Well, we are walking around in snow."

That got her a flat look. "I didn't notice."

"Hey, don't be sarcastic with me. We lost. It sucks. But it happened and we just have to deal, California boy."

"Are you calling me California boy because I think freezing temperatures are cold?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. What are you gonna do about it?" she challenged, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows.

"I'm gonna tell my sister and she's gonna beat you up."

Sarah cackled, and for the first time since they lost their match twenty minutes earlier, she had that sparkle in her eye she'd had the night before when they'd played video games, and then afterwards when they snuck down to the lounge to grab late night snacks and devoured them to stay awake longer and hopefully keep the jet lag at bay.

They'd found a board game in the lounge and took it up to their apartment, spreading it out on the floor of the main room and trying to figure out how to play in spite of the instructions being in Korean. Chuck ended up making up his own game with the pieces, and they stumbled through that, laughing and making sure they stayed hydrated, until they eventually climbed into their respective beds and passed out for ten hours.

It had been perfect.

"Is this something you do often? Letting your big sister beat people up for you?" she asked.

"Yep!" He laughed and shook his head. "No. And if I ever tried to sick her on you, she'd kick my ass instead."

"You'd deserve it."

"I would!" he agreed, chuckling.

They didn't talk about the match they'd lost when they got back to the apartment, instead showering and getting ready.

Chuck showered first and\ donned the Team U.S.A. sweater and jacket, eyeing the gloves with a frown of disdain. Chuck's phone rang as he was rounding up his belongings and badge. Sarah was closest to it, as she was getting her makeup bag, so she grabbed it and tossed it to him. He caught it with one hand, giving her a wide-eyed look.

"What?" she asked with a shrug. "You caught it, didn't you? Trust fall."

He laughed and shook his head, answering his phone. "Oh hi, Ellie."

"Hi, Chuck! Are you guys ready? We're waiting down in the lobby."

"Wait, you're in my lobby?" He turned to see Sarah disappear into the bathroom. "How'd you get ready and come over here so fast?"

Ellie was staying with the other downhill skiers outside of the main Olympic Village, which had been a big disappointment, since Devon had been slotted into the building with the rest of them in the Olympic Village, along with his cross-country teammates for the team event. Granted, she'd sent Chuck pictures and she and her fellow downhill skiers were being treated like royalty.

"Hey, Chuck, remember in high school how I got up in the morning in time to make breakfast, get ready for school, take you to school, and still make first period on time, five days a week?"

"Uh…point taken. Where you guys at? I'm all ready, but Sarah's gonna need another fifteen minutes or so." He raised his voice for Sarah to hear in the bathroom.

"Shut up! Ten minutes!" she yelled back.

"Man, you two aren't even dating and you're really trying that women take forever to get ready crap on her?"

Chuck swallowed thickly. You two aren't even dating…

They weren't. They really weren't. But…

"I used the shower first. I fully admit that. I have a fifteen minute head start on her."

"You took a fifteen minute shower, huh? Some things never change."

"Just…Where do I look for you guys?"

"Look for a blond giant standing next to a bearded hobbit—"

"Hey! Points for the Tolkien reference though…" Chuck heard Morgan say on the other side of the phone.

"Shut up, Morgan," Ellie muttered. "We're standing next to a big, weird fake plant thing. I dunno! I don't live in this building! I'm just a guest."

"I'll find you. See ya soon."

Chuck hung up and slipped his phone in his pants pocket, then pulled the Team U.S.A. beanie on over his curls. "I'm heading down to find Ellie, Devon, and Morgan…"

Sarah popped out of the bathroom, mascara in hand. "Oh. Is that who you're walking with?" She made a face and rolled her eyes at herself. "Of course, that's your family."Realization came over him. The curling team was who he was technically supposed to march with. But his sister, brother-in-law, and best friend were all here, too. "Oh…Oh, I thought maybe—I know I technically should be—"

"No, no." She brushed him off. "Walk with your family. Who cares what they tell you to do?"

"Yeah. I'll let you know where we are, though."

"Great." She smiled and ducked back into the bathroom, and he grabbed the stupid gloves from the desk and pulled them on, rolling his eyes as he left the apartment, patting his pockets to make sure he had his key, wallet, phone, and badge around his neck.

It took him a few minutes to get down to the lobby, climbing into the elevator with athletes from the U.S., Germany, Iceland, and the elevator picked up the Danish bobsled team as well.

The Danish bobsled team, he could get behind. But he wouldn't be rooting for the bobsled team from Great Britain anytime soon. It was immature and petty, and Sarah did royally wreck the guy both in video games and by giving him Beckman's room number. He would've given anything to see the guy's face when Beckman answered the door. Then again, she hadn't mentioned anything, so maybe Cole Barker hadn't shown up yet.

Chuck would have Sarah's back if Becks tried to come after her for it, though.

He was feeling pretty positive about things in general, if a bit bummed that he wouldn't be walking with Sarah and the rest of the curling squad. Should he have stayed with her? He thought maybe she could use a bit of a break from him, if only for this one night of the opening ceremony. Some space, so to speak. Though she hadn't asked for it, per se.

As he ambled into the lobby, using his pretty exceptional height to look over people's heads and see if he could spot Devon or Ellie, or maybe even a glimpse of a dark, infamous beard that had inspired so many signs in so many snowboarding competitions over the years, Chuck was immediately disappointed to see the last person on Earth he wanted to see.

Bryce Larkin caught his eye, Chuck cursed under his breath, and he stepped behind some snowboarders. Damn it, though, snowboarders were so short. Damn it damn it. He made a beeline for a more empty spot sanctioned off from the rest of the room then.

But that was a mistake, because when Bryce followed him, they were now in a place where the jerk would find it much easier to speak with him.

"Hey, Chuck!"

Chuck didn't bother plastering a fake smile on his face. He just sighed and pressed his lips together. "Oh hi, Bryce."

"Were you, uh, were you just running from me?"

"What? No."

"Kay." The guy definitely didn't believe him, but whatever, he was a jerk. "How's it goin'? Cool outfit, there."

"Oh. Yeah. These gloves make me feel like Buffalo Bill, but…whatever. Say, don't the media folks have their own digs off-campus somewhere? Somewhere fancier than this?" he asked, feeling a little silly for it but straightening his back and shoulders to make himself that much taller than Bryce.

"Yeah, we do. Real nice. But I was, uh, looking for the curling team."

Chuck felt a burning sensation slip up and down his spine. Was it jealousy? Protectiveness? Or, worse, was it possessiveness? He didn't want it to be that.

"What do you want my team for?" My team, he emphasized in his brain. Not yours. Mine. Bryce had abandoned those people, that team. He'd abandoned Sarah.

"Well, I am the curling commentator for NBC, funny guy." He grinned, and damn him, it was genuinely charming. Everything sucked. "I was gonna ask 'em a few questions about the competition, see how they like the town. I'll settle for you."

"Oh great, thanks," he drawled in a dry tone.

"I don't mean it like…like I'm settling settling. You are part of the mixed doubles team. Along with our curling hero Sarah Walker." Chuck frowned as Bryce took a notebook out. "How do you like working with Sarah, Chuck? How are things coming along? I mean, tough break losing to Hu and Wang earlier. You played a good match."

"Bryce, what are you doing?" he asked, his frown deepening.

"My job, funny guy."

"Stop calling me funny guy," Chuck said, and Bryce backed up a step, holding a hand up in surrender.

"You got it. Chuck."

"I'm not talking to you about my team."

Bryce frowned a little then, and Chuck could see him drop the pretenses, the act falling away. He pushed a hand through his hair and nodded. "All right. Notebook away, then." He shoved his notebook back in the inner pocket of his thick coat. "I can't say I blame you. I did sort of put everybody in a tough spot, but it just didn't feel right, anymore."

Chuck wasn't about to offer him any sympathy. So he just continued to stare.

"It just got so stale. Every day just going to train, coming home, going back to training, coming home…always together, always the same thing. I couldn't do it anymore. So sue me. Sometimes hobbies get old. Curling just got…old for me."

"So you accepted a job giving commentary on curling matches for NBC? You'll be calling multiple matches a day."

"Hey, but I get money for this. I still had to freaking sit at an accounting desk during the day when I was on the curling team and, sorry for the French, but fuck that." He shrugged. Chuck didn't say anything again and Bryce huffed. "Why are you so sore? I hear Team U.S.A. drew up a deal for you to get paid with benefits. And you're at the Olympics. None of that would be possible for you if it weren't for me."

"Well, pardon me if I don't get on the ground and kiss your feet."

"I'm not askin' for that, I'm just…" He sighed. "Whatever, man. I'm just trying to live. Be happy. Like the rest of us. And I didn't mean anyone any harm with all this, contrary to what all of you might be saying."

Chuck shrugged. "Okay."

"That's it? Okay?"

He just shrugged again in response.

"Shit. Tough crowd. Well, hey, listen, I wish you the best of luck. Sarah's a good girl, really good curler, but…Well, she has a path, and I just didn't feel like I was part of it. We held each other back, both on the ice and off. I bet she would agree if you asked her."

He paused as Chuck clenched his jaw, looking off to the side.

"Mark my words, though, it's all curling all the time for her. If you hold her back, she'll cut you loose faster than you can blink."

Chuck gave him a dark brow. "We aren't together like that."

Bryce lifted his eyebrows. "I meant you two being mixed doubles partners, actually." Then he leaned in. "But tell me more."

"I'm not talking to you anymore. It's none of your business. She isn't your girlfriend or your partner. And we have a tournament to focus on."

"I know. I was there. I saw ya lose."

Chuck clenched his jaw again.

"Listen, funny guy. I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm gonna give it straight. I think you're a good dude. You've always been a good dude. Watch your step. Not-Not with me. With her," he said quickly as Chuck puffed out his chest a bit. "It's clear to me that the pattern is continuing. Sarah's a pattern type of girl. She likes things to have an order to them. This whole thing where she dates her partner," he put a hand on his own chest, "and when they break up and she gets a new partner, she dates that partner. Everything in her life always has this kind of…like I said, pattern."

Why hadn't Chuck hit him yet? Why wasn't he hitting him? Should he hit him? He really wanted to hit this guy.

"It's why she has stuck with this sport so long. It's got this pattern. Everything's the same, predictable."

"You really don't understand the sport of curling, do you?"

Bryce ignored him. "I'm looking out for you, Chuck. This cushy job you found yourself? Getting paid to play the sport you love? Having a beautiful, smart woman as your partner? Enjoy it while you can, funny guy, because the moment you two start dating, it's downhill from there. Especially if you do poorly at the Olympics? Pffft. And I know for sure that romance is gonna mean your team crashing and burning. It's how it goes with Sarah." He took another step back and held his hands up defensively. "Just giving you the truth because I know. I know how things go with her. So if you want to keep this job, if you want your paycheck and benefits safe to the point where you never have to fix another computer again, keep it in your pants, buddy boy. It's gonna be hard. Trust me, I know firsthand, Sarah Walker is an icy hot babe…" That was it, that was the last straw.

But as soon as he made a fist…

"Oh, here's Chuck! I found him, guys!"

Captain Awesome's arm was slung around his neck then and he jumped, turning to look at his brother-in-law, just barely able to wipe the anger from his face. "We were lookin' for ya, bro!"

"Oh. Yeah. The, uh…crowd out there kinda got to me." He turned back to Bryce and found he was gone, like some sort of asshole douche ghost or something.

"Really? You've never had trouble with crowds before. You love Disneyland."

"Yeah, I dunno. It just hit me."

Ellie and Morgan were there then and Awesome let go of Chuck to grab Morgan, pull him into a headlock, and give him a noogie. Morgan whimpered and flapped his arms, looking disheveled and frustrated as Awesome let him stand again. "How the hell do you manage to noog me when I'm wearing a hat?!" he snapped.

"I dunno, I just do!" Awesome beamed and shrugged.

Ellie used the opportunity to lean in close to Chuck. "Was that Bryce I just saw over here?" she asked in a quiet tone. "Bryce Larkin? Like…the guy who…?"

"Yeah. But sh."

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm. He almost wasn't, though. Let's just go to the Olympic Stadium and start clumping together with the other Americans. At least there it's just a bunch of actual athletes."

"And some nice Koreans," Ellie said, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. He appreciated that she didn't push him to tell her about the conversation he'd just had, instead just letting the subject drop. She was good at picking up on his cues, always had been.

By the time they all got inside of the stadium, the American athletes were mingling, taking pictures, selfies, posting on social media. Chuck took a few with his family, posting it on his Twitter and Instagram, commenting on how well things were run so far, how welcoming the South Korean officials, volunteers, athletes, and citizens were already.

"So according to the Korean alphabet, we're in with the M's," one of the hockey women explained to Ellie. Apparently they were good friends considering the tight hugs they'd exchanged. If he'd known Ellie was friends with one of them…They were just such bad asses.

"What are they at now?"

"The, uhhh…L's," Awesome said, straining to try to hear for a second.

"We're almost theeeeeere!" Morgan shouted, pumping his arms over his head. Everyone around them cheered, hugged, thumped each other on the backs and shoulders. And then he felt a yank on the stupid fringe of one of his gloves.

But as he turned to see what had just happened, he thought at least the dumb gloves had some purpose, because there was Sarah Walker, beaming, her eyes shining bright under the Team U.S.A. beanie she wore, her fingers twisted in his glove fringe.

"Hi. Everyone else is mingling, so I thought we could, too."

She said mingling in a certain way and he hated that he couldn't react to it. She had to know what she was doing, right? She knew. She was teasing him.

Chuck lifted his hand, her fingers still holding onto the fringe. "Holdin' onto my stupid glove, huh?"

"I like 'em."

"Yeah, me too. Totally." And then he snorted at himself and winced. "Actually, I'm not a fan. I feel like a Wild West Showman from the eighteen-hundreds."

She smirked and bounced her shoulders in amusement, finally letting go of the fringe. "Maybe I have a thing for Wild West Showmen from the eighteen-hundreds."

"Well, if that's the case then I'm gonna rock these to their fullest potential."

They exchanged a grin as the other curlers crowded up against Sarah's back.

Ellie finally noticed Sarah and immediately swept her up in a tight hug, clearing the way for Tyler to play-punch Chuck in his nuts. "Nope! Don't do that, though," Chuck drawled, pushing Tyler's hands away from his body.

Jane saved him by pushing in front of Tyler, sending him a quick look that stopped him cold in his tracks. Then she turned to Chuck and lifted a meaningful eyebrow. "Not all of us have figured out the importance of this moment, and how we're supposed to be representing our country by being appropriate." She sent that last part over her shoulder at Tyler and he shrugged and wandered off to mingle.

"You really look like the Ralph Lauren poster boy in this get-up."

"Thank you! W-Wait. That wasn't a compliment, was it?"

Jane just laughed, throwing her head back, patting his shoulder. "No. It was not."

He laughed with her and shook his head, turning to see that Ellie had introduced Sarah to pretty much the entire U.S. women's hockey team. She had now gotten pulled into a giant picture with them and Ellie, and before he could even think anything else, the team captain had grabbed him and pulled him right up against Sarah.

Chuck couldn't help it. With a hockey player's arms wrapped around his neck from behind and leaning down over him as he knelt for the picture, he had to blush. After watching their games through grainy YouTube live streams with Ellie, to have them standing right here with him, and the team captain hugging him…

They finally were led out of the tunnel, then, and if Chuck thought walking into the arena earlier that day was loud…

It was intense. There had to be tens of thousands of people. He couldn't fathom. The cheers for Team U.S.A. were explosive. It was all so overwhelming, it nearly knocked him right on his ass. Awesome had to grab onto his bicep from behind to keep him standing.

Everyone was waving, taking pictures, recording…so he took his phone out and started doing the same. Morgan was weaving his way through the other Americans and was high fiving the South Koreans dancing along the path. Sarah cackled, unsuccessful at smothering it with her hands against her face. Those gloves were growing on him a bit, for some strange reason.

As "Gangnam Style" exploded through the arena, the curlers led their immediate section in a dance party, earning the cameras' attention. He didn't care that millions were watching or that he sucked at dancing, because Sarah was jumping up and down and recording them singing with her phone, threatening to put it on her Instagram with her however many thousands of followers.

He reveled in it. He took it in and just reveled. Because he knew after tonight, it would be back to business.

A/N: Yes, Chuck and readers...let's all revel for a moment. Because we're about to dive straight into this. (rubs hands together)

I think I'm just permanently ESC for this whole fic so...

-ESC