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: Your reviews are like a burning wildfire of inspiration and muse-ship and encouragement in my chest and it's made me seriously write the crap out of this story and I'm very grateful to all of you. This chapter is my gift to you. Hehehehe.
Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I don't own the characters in this show.
A loud banging woke her up, and in her half-awake state of mind, she thought maybe the banging was actually inside of her head. She realized quickly that this was impossible, so her first inclination was to blame Chuck.
"Stop doing that, Chuck," she grumbled, barely lifting her face from her pillow.
"Z'not me," he groaned back.
The banging happened again and she whined.
When she realized it wasn't Chuck and that there was someone at their apartment door, she pushed herself up from the bed and glared at her roommate. "I hate you," she mumbled.
"S'okay with me," he mumbled back, burying himself deeper in his bed.
Jerk.
She grabbed a sweatshirt and wrapped it around herself, grumpily moving into the other room. The banging was louder and she let out a frustrated whine, before snapping, "I'm coming!"
But when she opened the door, she was fully awake.
Diane Beckman and Langston Graham were standing there, looking stern, like they meant business.
"Oh God, no," Sarah breathed. "Not this early."
"It's eight o'clock. What do you think this is, summer break?" Beckman snapped, pushing past her. "Where's Chuck?"
Graham didn't look liable to be on her side any more than Beckman was, so she sighed and gestured to the bedroom, shutting the door behind the coaches.
Beckman didn't even pause. She stormed into the bedroom, and there was a swish sound and a high-pitched yelp that had to have come from Chuck Bartowski. She almost laughed, but she wanted to be asleep instead, so it only came out a soft snort.
The coach and the curler came out of the room together, Chuck tugging a Team U.S.A. sweatshirt on over his head and pulling it down to cover the shirt he'd slept in.
Beckman slammed a handheld whiteboard onto the desk then and got right down to business.
They strategized for well over half an hour, and then were ordered down to the gym where they did another half hour of strength training followed by twenty minutes of treadmill. When they were both washed up and decked out in a new uniform, this time a red shirt and black pants, they met Beckman in the lobby and the three of them traveled to the Gangneung Curling Centre together.
With a few last words of encouragement, Beckman peeled off to go out to the arena and wait for them at the coach's table in the stands beside where they'd be competing against the Olympic Athletes from Russia.
Chuck and Sarah ended up sitting on benches in the preparation room, side by side, silent, contemplating.
She saw Chuck check his watch in her peripheral. "Still got twenty minutes." He let out a long breath and hung his head for a few moments, before sitting up again. "Sarah, we haven't talked about the loss last night."
Looking at his profile, she could see he really didn't want to talk about it. She didn't, either.
"I-I mean, what we might've done wrong. What we could do differently to fix it and do better this time around. I mean, we talked with Becks and Graham but I mean…us talking about it. Without them."
She nodded. "Well, for one, I was lodged way too far up in my head. I could do with that not happening today. Or tonight when we have our match against the Finns."
"Easier said than done."
"Exactly." She raised her eyebrows and huffed, but then when she looked at him again, she saw something was bothering him. "Hey." She nudged his shin with the toe of her gripper shoe. "What's going on?"
He looked up at her, eyes wide. And then he made a dismissive hand gesture and shrugged. "Nah. Nothin'. I'm good."
"Chuck. We're about to play our second Olympic match. We probably lost the first one because I wasn't focused on the right thing—my delivery was shit. Whatever it is, get it out now so we can go out on that ice and win this."
Her partner let out a long sigh and nodded. "No, you're right. You're right." Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued. "I've been thinking a lot about things. And I know what they're all saying out there on Twitter, in the media…about me." She gave him a look and opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off, apparently knowing exactly what she was going to say. "I haven't been on Twitter. Not since the day we got here. I promise." She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "I know that's just gonna end up being trouble if I go on there. Especially after we lost yesterday afternoon. I just…know. I know what's there. I'm so new to this sport, and everyone here is like—like you, or Becks. Everyone started curling forever ago, they've been doing it for years and years." He turned to look up at her, his brow furrowed. "I wouldn't even be sitting here if it weren't for Bryce being an ass and ditching the team."
Sarah ducked her head, then leaned in so he was forced to meet her gaze. "It doesn't matter how you got here, Chuck. You're here." "Yeah, but…I wasn't supposed to be. You were supposed to be here with someone else. And th-that's not even it, really. Because you're right. Bryce Larkin isn't on this team. I am. And I need to pick up the slack. I need to be present. Focused." He huffed and shook his head. "I just really, really don't want to let you down, Sarah. You've been working towards this for years, and now that you're here, you're stuck with me, and I really don't want to be the one that ruins it for you."
"Is that what has you all tense and withdrawn? Because you don't want to let me down and ruin my Olympic dream?"
Chuck sighed roughly and nodded. "I wanna do well for you. None of this was fair to you and I want to make it all worth it."
Sarah Walker couldn't stop the smile on her face, and she felt herself blushing. It was just that she was filled with warmth. His kindness really was just…unending. It was extraordinary how this man fretted so hard over other people's well-being to the point where he seemed to almost ignore his own.
She was moved by his admission.
"Chuck…" Sarah reached down and picked up his hand, squeezing it tightly, but then letting go because she felt more than just a warmth inside of her from how sincerely he squeezed her hand back. It was more like heat…and she had to be careful with heat where this man was concerned. "You're so sweet," she breathed.
He seemed surprised, lifting his wide-eyed gaze to look into hers.
"It warms the cockles of my heart that you're this thoughtful about my needs and well-being, how much you're thinking about the work I've put into getting this far, that you don't want to mess it up…all of this for me. I know, that sounds cheesy, but seriously, there's no other way to say it than that." She smiled and shook her head.
But then the smile faded a bit, and she met his gaze seriously. "But please stop."
He looked confused, hesitant.
"Or, at least, please don't let that be the only reason you're doing this." He was still confused so she scooteda bit closer and lightly put a hand on Chuck's arm. "You say you don't want to let me down, don't want to ruin this for me. Chuck, you're in the Olympics. This is yours as much as it is mine."
"Sarah, a year ago, I was curling on a hockey rink in Burbank, California. We were a ragtag group of post-grads and tech heads drinking and pretending our brooms were swords." She snorted a bit at that. "Olympics weren't even on my radar. You, on the other hand, you've been working towards this for years."
She just looked at him for a long time. "Maybe that's true. But no one on this whole team has worked as hard as you have in the last few months since you were suddenly pushed into this situation. Not Casey or Jane, not Anna, Mark, Tyler, not any of the other members of U.S. curling, not Beckman or Graham…not even me," she added. "You have worked your ass off. You've studied, you've practiced, you've gone out of your way to earn your spot here, Chuck. And you're saying that was all for me?" she asked, giving him a dubious look.
He winced a little. "Yeah. Mostly. To be perfectly honest with you."
And when he looked into her eyes, she almost felt lightheaded.
"Chuck, that—" She swallowed and took a breath. That was a lot for her to consider. And she would consider it. Later. But right now, she needed to get his head in the game. "That's very sweet." He made a face. "What? It is. But you need to want to win for yourself. Not just for me. You put so much work into this, don't you want to win? Take me out of the equation for a second. Don't you want to do well in this?"
"Of course I do."
"Then hang onto that. Because there are a lot of trolls out there who want me to do even worse with you as my partner than I did with Bryce." She could see the way he clenched his jaw at her mentioning Bryce. She distantly wondered if it was something more than just the fact that he'd abandoned their team. "They want to be able to say 'I told you so', they want to be proven right by our failure. By your failure."
Chuck let a long breath out through pursed lips and nodded. But he didn't say anything, so she continued.
"Forget doing this for me, I've got me covered. Do it for you, Chuck. Prove them wrong about you. I know you're a better curler than Bryce, and a way better teammate. You actually trust me and listen to me out there. Makes me trust you more than I ever trusted Bryce." And she was a little startled to find that she sincerely meant that in more areas than just on the ice when they were curling. "We kick ass in at least some of our matches in these Olympics, you'll prove you deserve to be here. You'll prove it to yourself."
A smile grew on his face as he stared at the floor in front of him, and eventually he tilted his head to direct that smile at her. "First order of business in Project Chuck Proving Himself to…er, Himself," he made a face and she giggled, "Beat the shit outta some Russians."
"Chuck, sh!"
He covered his mouth and widened his eyes. "Sorry. Olympic Athletes From Russia," he whispered.
She pursed her lips and shook her head at him, getting up and grabbing her broom. "I swear to God, Chuck Bartowski."
They went out into the arena and followed the guide over to their sheet. Sarah glanced up to meet Beckman's gaze, hoping to wordlessly reassure their coach. Though Sarah herself wasn't entirely reassured. She still had to think about Chuck's admission, that he'd worked his ass off for all these months because he didn't want to let her down, that most of what he'd done to get here, the late nights of going over strategy at the kitchen table, sometimes alone, watching curling on their TV, extra hours during the week spent at the gym…It was for her. He didn't want to be what dragged her down.
She felt something stirring in her blood.
Nobody had ever cared to support her like this—not even her coaches or the federation, as much as they'd supported her. Chuck Bartowski was on another level entirely. She wasn't a fool, and there was no use in denying it. This was more than friendship. She felt it, and she knew he did, too.
There was an intense magnetism between them.
And she was a little nervous it might prove to be a distraction.
But she trusted him, and he trusted her and they had to win this one.
One yellow rock and one red would be placed to start the End. It was Team U.S.A.'s decision where to position each rock. They had their mic's attached to their shirts by the officials and stood off to the side to deliberate on where to position their red rock versus the Russians' yellow rock.
"You're lead shooter, Chuck. Where do you want it?"
He raised an eyebrow. She thought for a moment that he'd tell her to make the decision. But then he itched behind his ear and nodded once, emphatic. "I want to start in the four foot."
She bit her cheek to keep from smiling. "Perfect." She nodded for the rocks to be placed and they slid back down to stand behind the hack where Vera Sokolov prepared to deliver Russia's first rock. She expertly slid the yellow rock all the way through the house so that it stopped just barely biting into the twelve foot ring, close to the T-line. It was clever, cunning. Sarah smirked a bit, because she knew this would be a challenge. She liked a good challenge.
Sarah knelt down and put a hand on one of her five red rocks, shutting her eyes. It was superstition. She was bonding with her rocks. Silly, she knew, but it made her feel better.
"Hey…" She turned to face Chuck as he used his broom to slide a rock in front of the hack. "What are you doing?"
"Uh…curling."
She narrowed her eyes at him and just barely kept from smiling by bitting her cheek. She scooted all the way down to the house and eyed the rocks. "Here?" she asked him, raising her voice so he could hear. She gestured a few feet to the right of the T-line, a bit to the side and behind Russia's rock they'd just thrown.
"Uhhhh…yeah! Can you get it there?"
"Can you get it there?"
He smiled a little and got into position. She lined up her broom for his sight line and he moved to deliver the stone. When he let it go, he leapt up to his feet and followed it.
"Line…Line…Weight only…Hard!" she barked, watching it curl. "Whoa! Stop!"
It might have too little weight, she thought then, and she rushed around to the other side of the house as the rock started slowing. Shit! Chuck had backed off so it was up to her now. She furiously swept as the rock closed in on the yellow…closer, closer…
Sarah stood up straight and watched as Chuck's delivery pushed their rock up just barely against the yellow stone, but closer to the button, just an outer edge sticking out of the house.
"That was money," she said, meeting Chuck's gaze as he came to look at his handy work.
"Tight."
She snorted and stepped back with Chuck to watch as the Russian team conferred, discussing what their next shot would be.
And then Alexei Volkoff of Team OAR went to the hack alone, preparing his shot.
They battled back and forth through what felt like a long End, and Volkoff and Sokolov forced Chuck and Sarah into taking one point.
OAR took two in the next End, leaving the score at Team U.S.A. with one, OAR with two.
By the time they'd gotten to the last rock of the third End, Chuck and Sarah had frozen two of their red stones together just outside of the button and had one further back, just inside of the twelve foot ring. The fourth was a guard Sarah set up perfectly to protect the rock in the twelve foot.
Sokolov had delivered one Russian stone to the outside of the eight foot, and one was perfectly on the button, with those first two red stones frozen just a few inches behind it.
Sarah followed Chuck to the hack and switched her broom to her other hand so that she could set her fingers on Chuck's wrist. "You thinkin' right down the middle?"
"Yup. But we'd have to clear that guard."
"No, you'd have to go through the port," she said confidently. OAR had placed their guard in their last throw into a spot that made any delivery into the house, especially towards the button, an incredibly difficult shot.
"Split the guards through the port?" He looked down at her with eyes wide.
"Mhm." Sarah smirked and walked backwards, away from him and towards her spot in the house. "Better deliver."
"So no DiGiorno…is what you're saying."
She laughed and shook her head, shuffling her way back down to the house, fighting back the grin as she turned and lined up her broom for him. He only had about a foot and a half of space to get it through, but if he did it, she could sweep to guide it into the corner of the OAR rock on the button. Hopefully they'd get at least two points out of it and retake the lead.
"Okay?" she called out.
"Oh, you know it," was the response, and she hoped she was the only one who heard the flirtation in his tone. She really hoped. But if he was flirting, that maybe meant he was feeling cocky…and if Chuck Bartowski was feeling cocky, did that mean her Do it for yourself pep talk had worked?
Then he let go of the rock and followed it.
"Yes….yes…" she called.
"Line good?"
"Beautiful."
"Hard!" she said suddenly.
He swept hard for a second or two and laid off so that she could take over. It slipped right through that foot and a half port space. She could almost hear the crowd hold their breath as it sliced through.
And then she cleared some of the ice to the right so that it curled to tap OAR's rock. That rock's roll brought it a few feet from the button and put their two red rocks into contention as counters, but miraculously, the rock Chuck just delivered didn't have much roll off of its bounce and it stopped in counting position as well. They had three counters. Holy shit!
Sarah threw her arms up in celebration and spun to face Chuck as he knelt down in a fist pump. They skidded towards each other on the ice, and before she could hug him for his ridiculously delicious shot, she stopped herself and instead just looked up at him. All she had to do for their chests to touch was take a deep breath, they were so close.
"Nice delivery," she said quietly.
"Nice skipping, skipper."
Sarah bit her lip and stepped around him. There was pure heat between them, and she subtly squirmed a bit, pulling at the collar of her shirt to let cool air slip inside. She was sure no one else was aware of it. Right?
Either way, they'd somehow managed three counters in the End, leaving the score at four to two with them winning to start the fourth End.
-oooo-
By the time they headed back to the prep room for halftime, they'd had to force a point to OAR, leaving the score at four to three in their favor still. Volkoff and Sokolov were in the other corner of the room with their coach and a whiteboard, discussing strategy furiously, so Chuck kept at least two feet between himself and Sarah. He sat in one of the plastic chairs and she stood leaning back against the wall, her arms crossed.
God, he could still feel it, though. Like their was a current between them. He had to dial it back. They still had the rest of this game and the games after. If they were lucky enough to get out of the round-robin, which would be a long shot considering how damn good he'd found these other teams to be when he'd done research on them, they'd have more games after that. And he still had that pain in the ass voice of Bryce Larkin's reminding him that distractions might mean the failure of their team at this tournament.
Granted, Sarah Walker was a walking, talking distraction, as stunning and intelligent as she was, and yet, he was still managing to deliver some good freaking rocks.
"Man, I can't get over it," he said so only she could hear. "That circus shot was unlike anything I've done ever. I-I mean, there was one delivery I did when I was drunk a year ago. But that was one of those 'couldn't do that again if I tried' situations. Just…the fact that it stayed put after that bounce…"
"It was the best delivery I've seen in a long time, Chuck."
"Right?" He sat against the back of the chair and just beamed up at her. "Let's do more of that."
"I'm not gonna say no," she giggled.
Suddenly, though, he felt her fingers brush against his collarbone, up to the neck of his shirt, and she smoothed her hand over the collar. Her touch was slow, and he wondered if she'd lingered there on purpose before pulling her hand away.
The curlers from Russia were busy, backs to them, he noticed, so he stood up from his chair and stepped in close to her. She inched back a bit, a warning look on her face, and he wrinkled his nose, biting his lip, letting her see in his eyes how much he wanted to…
What?
He didn't know.
Touch her? Kiss her?
He balled his fist at his side and squeezed. And before he could say anything, Beckman strolled into the room. "One thing," she said, getting right to business, as always.
Chuck subtly stepped away from Sarah as Beckman came towards them with a whiteboard. He let out a long breath, listening, nodding along. And then the attendant came in to let them know it was time to start the second half.
Beckman turned and pointed at Chuck. "You keep delivering like you did that hammer in the third End and you'll be canonized, kid." She reached up to ruffle his curls and grinned a purely Becks type of grin before ducking out.
The fifth End resulted in Volkoff and Sokolov pulling ahead with five points, and the sixth and seventh ended with the score tied at seven points all.
It was down to the last End now.
Sarah threw her last rock and managed to bury it in a perfect position as a counter. But she and Chuck had placed their rocks so that they were lying two, and Sokolov would have to pick one of them to take out. Chuck couldn't imagine OAR managing to take both U.S. counters out and that meant they'd have to force one point to Team U.S.A.
All that remained was for Sokolov to deliver the last hammer of the game.
And when she did, she took out the American rock in the four foot, but forced that point like Chuck thought she would.
Alexei Volkoff and Vera Sokolov conceded, coming over to shake hands. As soon as they moved out of the sheet, Chuck turned to give Sarah the biggest high-five ever, and instead, she smacked both hands on his chest, which kind of hurt what with the Team U.S.A. broom she still held.
"We won," she breathed. "Good teamwork, partner."
He chuckled and then winked. And the look he got in return told him the next few hours between this game and the next would be…a struggle. And the way she'd so expertly hidden it so that he was the only one who got the true message.
Strike that, he thought to himself as he checked his phone and found a text from his sister that had screenshots of tweets from people on Twitter talking about how they "stan" Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker over their "beautiful banter". I've gotta last the next two weeks.
If people were already hyped on the banter, he couldn't imagine what would happen if they knew about that conversation they'd had on the flight to PyeongChang. Or that delicious burning sensation he got in his lower belly at the look she gave him after he made that circus shot in the third End. Nobody could know about that. Not even Sarah.
Beckman was absolutely beside herself she was so proud of them, passing along Graham's congratulations, as well as the rest of the team's. But with another game coming up in seven hours' time, they were ordered back to their apartment to get some rest.
"Don't do anything too tiring," she said as a parting shot, leaving them to go join Graham and the others for training.
And he really and truly hated himself for swinging his gaze over to meet Sarah's. Don't do anything too tiring. God, the look on her face. She smiled a little then and tilted her head. "Back to the apartment?"
He told his feet to follow her and they did, but he had to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his coat for the rest of their time waiting for the bus.
The worst part was climbing onto that packed bus and having to stand closer than was probably safe for his sanity, their bodies swaying together as the bus started and stopped.
Everybody seemed to be in their own world, and so, too, were Chuck and Sarah.
He just let himself stare back at her as they waited the ten minutes for the bus to worm its way back up to the Olympic Athletes Village. Her hand eventually made its way onto his arm. At any other time, and perhaps with any other woman, he might think she held onto him for balance. But this was now, and with Sarah Walker, the woman with whom he'd just shared his first Olympic curling win. The air was smoldering between them.
Chuck didn't know what to do about it. What did she want him to do about it? Did she want him to do anything? Her blue eyes were so focused on him. And there was this particular twinkle to them. A particular tilt to the corner of her mouth.
He wanted to wrap his free arm around her, pull her into his chest, and kiss the hell out of her. But there were at least ten other people on this bus, most of them athletes waiting for the bus to pull to a stop in front of their apartment buildings.
So he withheld the urge, as difficult as it was.
Thankfully, it wasn't much longer before they were able to get off of the bus and head through the village towards their building. He walked with his arms wrapped around his torso, as if to ward off the cold, shivering… But he was actually giving his arms something to do, and the shivering wasn't exactly from the cold.
It wasn't until they got into the elevator, the door sliding shut, that Chuck dropped his arms to his sides.
He shut his eyes tightly for a moment, and then the words just burst out of him. "Okay, this is intense. Is this as intense for you as it is for me? Or am I just going crazy?" He spun to face her. "We won a curling match at the Olympics. And I'm super excited about that, but more than anything, I'm, like, stupidly turned on. Please tell me if I'm alone in this and I will promptly jump into the cold shower and leave you the hell alo—"
He didn't finish his sentence.
He couldn't.
And he really hadn't even seen anything but a slight trigger go off in her eyes before she closed the distance in two long strides, took his face between her hands, and kissed him. He distantly hoped there was no camera in the elevator or something like that, but then he found he really didn't care because one of her hands left his face and instead found the zipper of his jacket. In one, graceful move, she tugged the zipper down and had her hand twisted in the sweatshirt he'd tugged on over his curling uniform. She used her grip to pull him in tighter to her body, even going so far as to step backwards until he was forced to pin her to the wall of the elevator.
And then she used her other hand to pull his beanie off, shoving it into Chuck's hand that was still just…hovering in the air, unsure really of what to do. Her fingers were in his curls then, pulling him in for an even deeper kiss.
His hands finally caught up to speed and he wrapped his arms around her the way he'd wanted to in the bus, yanking her into him tightly and causing her to yelp against his lips.
And it was just as she opened her mouth in invitation that the loud DING reverberated through his entire existence it felt like. He stepped back as though she was made of fire, pushing her hand away from his sweatshirt and slamming his beanie back onto his head haphazardly.
Thankfully his reflexes were working, too, because when the doors opened, a few of the Dutch speed skaters were there, waiting to step into the elevator.
"Hi. Hi," he murmured at them as he ambled past. They nodded in greeting. "Good luck. Have a good race. Yeah…Okay…" He waved as Sarah gently took the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him around the corner. "Bye!"
Sarah giggled as they hurriedly walked the rest of the way to their apartment. "Nice save."
"I didn't want them to think we were…"
She slipped her key into the lock and swept the door open, spinning to face him again with a mischievous look in her eye. "…What?" she asked with a flirtatious raise of her eyebrow.
She tugged him into the apartment and the door slammed shut behind them. "I…don't really know how to answer thaaaaaaa—woomph!"
His back was against the door and she was kissing him again. This time, he knew exactly how to react. And he dove in with every single part of himself. He unzipped her coat, pushed it off of her shoulders, let her get rid of his outer layers until he was all the way down to his curling uniform.
Feeling a spike of confidence and mischief himself, he turned them around and pinned her to the wall beside the door, causing her to make a cute little surprised squeak. She giggled through her nose and beamed at him sighing happily as he kissed her jaw and down to her neck, tucking one hand up underneath her zip-up sweatshirt and the two shirts she had on underneath. She gasped as his cool fingers touched the warm skin of her lower abdomen. He felt her muscles twitch under his fingers, and he grabbed her, angling his hips into hers as he teasingly nipped at the crook of her neck, his tongue sneaking out to lave the bite.
"Did you just bite me?" she breathed.
"A little. Okay?"
"Do it again," she laughed, and he did, making her laugh harder.
He tried to tug at all three of the layers covering her upper body then and she gave off another breathless laugh. "Try one at a time, funny guy…"
It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him.
And then…not, at the same time. Because his lower half was still aching for her…all of him was aching for her.
But she called him 'funny guy' and it reminded him of the one thing Bryce said that had felt like it might be…a good point.
Not the bullshit about Sarah living her life in a "pattern" or whatever he'd said. That was utter nonsense and it was flat-out cruel and untrue. Chuck could feel this wasn't just Sarah jumping from partner to partner.
But the bit about holding her back… If they went through with this and it became a distraction on the ice, if going through with this right now meant they'd struggle with their curling game, he wanted to wait.
As much as he'd love to strip down and let her have her way with him, to be blunt, he wanted to kick this tournament's ass. This was the Olympics. It was televised. Millions were watching.
He wanted to prove he could do this. And he wanted Sarah's naysayers to shut the hell up, frankly.
Sarah must have recognized his lips stopping against her skin, his hands going still…
Because she sighed heavily.
"I know," she muttered glumly.
He pulled back and looked into her face. "What we said…on the plane…"
"I know. I know. I was the one who said it." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and huffed as he stepped back, away from her, and straightened his clothes a bit.
"We just…I mean, you were right."
"I know I was."
"But for the record…wow."
Her blue eyes slowly lowered to meet his and that white heat of desire hit him with an unrivaled force again. "Agreed," she enunciated slowly, emphasizing the 'd' at the end of the word.
He had to take another deep breath. And then there was a loud knock on the door.
"Chuck, you there?"
"Ellie!" he hissed.
Sarah seemed confused until she followed his gaze down to his crotch. "Oh!" she whispered back, and he thought maybe she was blushing a bit. He didn't have the time to be gratified by that. Or to blush back. "Uh…the shower! Get in the shower."
Perfect.
For so many reasons, that was a perfect idea. He needed a shower. A cold one.
And he dashed out of the room and into their shared bathroom just as he heard Ellie knock again.
Suffice to say, in spite of the twenty degree temperature outside, Chuck turned the temperature to hypothermia levels of cold. It was…necessary.
-oooo-
They sat on the chairs in the apartment's living room, nothing but the soft sound of the shower in the other room, and some athletes being rowdy in the hallway. Sarah glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the shouting and made a face when she turned back to Ellie and Devon. "Wonder if they already have a medal, huh?"
"Probably just qualified," Ellie said, smiling.
"Oh. Yeah. Probably too early for that." She tucked some hair that escaped her braid behind her ear and remembered acutely the way Chuck's fingertips had oh so gently brushed back that same bit of hair minutes earlier, when he had her pinned against the wall and he was kissing her…
Fighting back a blush, she blurted, "You guys want some snacks? I found a Korean version of Chex-Mix. They're good."
"No, that's okay," Ellie said. "I think we're going to get lunch soon with a few other skiers."
"Uh…" Devon cleared his throat. "I'd like some Korean Chex-Mix."
Feeling sort of relieved she had something to do besides just sitting awkwardly and staring at Chuck's sister and brother-in-law while they sat awkwardly across from her and waited for Chuck to get out of the shower, Sarah hurried out of her chair and went over to the small cupboard area in the corner of the room. There was also a fridge and a microwave, which was handy.
She grabbed the bag and came back to toss it onto Devon's lap. He caught it mid-air with a giant grin. "Hey, thanks. I've got the munchies."
She giggled. "You're welcome. Munch away."
As she sat down again, Ellie clapped her hands together and bounced a little in excitement. "Oh, by the way, I didn't get to see the whole game because I had to get to the gym for a workout session with some teammates but I saw a bit of you guys destroying Russia."
"Whooped 'em," Devon said around a mouthful of corn snacks.
Sarah smiled. "It wasn't really a whooping but when you win, it's a win. I'll take it."
"Congratulations, Sarah. First win! Of many more to come, I'm sure," Ellie said warmly.
"Couldn't do it without my partner!" she chirped, gesturing towards the bathroom where Chuck was most likely taking a shower on the cooler side. She wished she could be so lucky right now.
"Speaking of partners," Devon said, chewing and swallowing. He grabbed another handful and paused with his hand near his mouth. "Didn't Bryce Larkin quit curling altogether? I thought that was a thing. But then I saw him here in PyeongChang and I was like 'Dude, what is that guy doin' here?' Ya know?"
"W-What?"
It was hard to miss the way Ellie quickly stomped on her husband's boot with her own, especially when he jerked a bit and winced, sending her a grumpy, confused look as he crunched away on his snack. Ellie gave him a look back that very clearly meant Shut up.
"Bryce was hired to commentate the curling event, unfortunately. So that's something else we all have to deal with. But wait. Hold on. Why'd you kick him?" Sarah asked then, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two.
Ellie winced and sent Devon a Look what you did glare.
He shrugged, throwing more of the snacks into his mouth and munching on them. "I just saw him the other night is all. I mean, we were gonna meet Chuck in the lobby of the U.S.A. house and I found him off in this tucked away space in the back and Bryce was there." Devon widened his eyes and picked food out of his teeth with his tongue, then said, "They were really—"
"Having a chat," Ellie said.
"Nah, babe. It was an argument."
Sarah was cold all of a sudden. "What were they arguing about?"
Bless Ellie for trying to downplay things, trying to be a good sister, because apparently this discussion wasn't something Chuck had wanted to tell Sarah about. And Ellie recognized that. Devon apparently didn't really have her tact. But at the moment Sarah was glad he didn't.
"I didn't hear a lot but I thought our dude was gonna haul off and bop 'im one, Bryce I mean. He said stuff about what it's like to be your partner—Bryce I mean, not Chuck—and—"
"Devon. Honey. How much of this conversation did you hear?"
Devon grinned a bit haltingly this time and shrugged. "I guess I really just wanted to hear the discussion. I was curious, so sue me. I stopped it before anybody lost any teeth." He shrugged again at the flat look Ellie sent him.
"What'd Bryce say about being my partner?"
"Sarah, you don't need to hear it," Ellie said. "Really. It's just going to throw you off your game, which…it seems like that was Bryce's goal, ya know?" Then she winced and Sarah realized she must have given Chuck's sister a bit of a snappish look. "Though I get why you'd wanna know."
She felt bad but she turned back to Devon and he rolled the top of the bag down to close it, carefully reaching over to set it on the small coffee table between them.
"Um. Well." He sighed. "It was stuff about how if Chuck wanted to keep this paid job—you know, with the federation paying him to be on your mixed doubles team—he'd better keep it in his pants." He squirmed uncomfortably at the wide-eyed looks both women gave him. "Those were his words, not mine!" he defended himself, holding his hands up. "That was when I jumped in and pretended like I didn't even see Bryce, made sure to grab Chuck in a way that would keep him from swinging the fist I saw him make." Then he pointed, as though he remembered something. "I remember what really set Chuck off. Bryce said you're an icy hot babe and hard to resist. Real douchey thing to say. Especially after he said that crap about how your team will quote, crash and burn, unquote, if you guys get romantically involved, because that's just how things go with you. Somethin' like that."
The rage Sarah felt coursing through her…It was indescribable.
Both Ellie and Devon must have seen it because the former elbowed the latter before getting up and coming over to sit on the coffee table in front of Sarah and putting a reassuring hand on her knee. It helped calm her a little, at least. "Sarah, I'm sorry. He's a douchebag, obviously. And Chuck isn't—I mean, he wouldn't—"
"No, it's okay. I just wonder why he didn't say anything. Chuck, I mean."
Ellie shrugged. "To protect you. Chuck's sometimes overly thoughtful, but I think he was right, here." She winced. "Sorry, just the truth. I mean, what good has it really done for you to hear this stuff your ex said to try to throw your partner off his game?"
Sarah wondered if it worked and that was why Chuck had stopped things earlier. "I wish you would've let him hit that bastard," she teased, swinging her blue eyes over to Devon's.
The friendly guy quietly reached over to pick up the bag again, unrolling it and digging into it once more. "I just didn't want him kicked out of the Olympics or somethin'. Who knows what kind of bad trouble that'd get Chuck into?"
She nodded. "You're right. I need Chuck to not get busted for punching my ex in the face. Good work, Captain Awesome."
"Oh no, not you, too," Ellie groaned.
But it seemed to please her husband greatly. He pointed at her and beamed. "Hey. Just doin' my duty, li'l lady."
She giggled at that and nodded. "Well, hopefully—" She paused, wondering if she should say it. Then again, these two people probably knew Chuck better than anyone, didn't they? "I mean, you don't think Chuck listened to Bryce, do you? You don't think he got to him?" Ellie got a certain look on her face, like she might burst but was trying to keep it inside… Oh, no. "Not—Not the romance thing. We're not—I mean, Chuck and I aren't like that. I just mean, I don't want anything my ex says to get under Chuck's skin or-or distract him from our goal here. We need to have a winning mentality. No distractions. You know?"
Ellie seemed to have successfully pushed down the beginnings of…excitement, maybe?…that Sarah had seen in her face. She shook her head vehemently, though.
"No. Trust me. Chuck knew exactly what Bryce was trying to do, cornering him like that. Only thing he was concerned about was protecting you, making sure you didn't have to know about it…I really don't think he would've hit Bryce even if Devon hadn't jumped in…belatedly," she threw over her shoulder in a flat voice.
He shrunk a little with a wince.
"Well, thanks…I mean, thank you for telling me. Even if it sucked to hear what my ex says about me behind my back, that he'd stoop this low to try to fracture the trust between me and Chuck, it's good to know I've got such a great teammate in your brother."
"Nah, my bro is the best," Devon chirped. "You're in safe hands. I mean, and vice versa. You're both in each other's hands. And also safe. Yeah."
"Is that really what you're going to say right now, Devon?" Ellie asked after giving him a long look.
He blinked and shrugged.
Sarah just laughed, fighting off another blush. It really was the worst possible way to word it, considering what she and Chuck had been doing right before these two had knocked on their door. They definitely were in one another's hands. And other things."Oh, wait! I almost forgot. I have some souvenirs I picked up from the curling center for you guys. Just a sec…" She climbed up to her feet and squeezed around Ellie's legs to hurry into the bedroom.
But right as she burst in, she realized the bathroom door was open, and Chuck was standing there at his bed, rifling through his suitcase… And he was in nothing but a towel tied securely—she hoped—around his waist. Low on his hips, actually. Very low.
How did she miss those shoulders? And when had that six-pack happened? Was that always under his nerdy T-shirts and button-ups and the uniform shirts? And she'd just never known it? Or did he get those from the extra work-outs he'd done to prepare for the Olympics?
He was staring back at her, though…she realized belatedly. And she inwardly winced, her gaze zooming back up to his face. It was really hard, though, because his arms were long and almost sinewy…Dear God…
And she chose that moment to remember that he'd almost punched Bryce for her, but had kept her from knowing her ex had said such rude things. And he'd done it to protect her. Devon probably hadn't even heard the half of it. Was she wrong for being turned on by the idea of this almost naked man in front of her punching her ex so hard, he was unconscious before he even hit the ground?
Probably.
But she was turned on anyway.
"My clothes," he breathed then. "I, uh, I jumped in the shower so fast that I forgot to get…something to change into. Clothes. So…here I am."
"Here you are. Your Ellie—I mean, your sister and brother-in-law are out there…waiting…"
"Oh. Thanks. I'll be…I'll be right out. Um…"
She wondered if he could tell she was having a hard time not checking him out. He was just so dewy and his hair extra curly…and again, the shoulders were just…
He backed to the bathroom door again, then turned to go inside, shutting it. But the pile of clothes he'd picked out of his suitcase was still there on the bed.
She heard a soft curse on the other side of the door and it opened. Chuck dashed out to grab the clothes. "I…heh…forgot these…so…'kay bye."
He was locked in the bathroom again, this time with his clothes, and Sarah needed a moment to collect herself before she grabbed the stuffed white tigers she'd bought at the curling center. They had little curling brooms in their hands and cute little shoes.
And she rushed out to give them to Chuck's family, hoping he finished with the shower soon so that she could get in. Her shower would also be a cold one. Very cold.
-oooo-
He couldn't believe this.
They were only in the seventh End and they'd scored ten points to the Finnish team's four. This was madness.
Chuck Bartowski sincerely didn't wish ill on the pair from Finland, and he didn't celebrate the fact that Sarah's phenomenal deliveries in the first two Ends had resulted in six points and promptly intimidated Kaarlo Tolonen into missing an easy double-hit. But that was what happened, and he and Sarah were sitting pretty in this game.
He eyeballed their current situation as Sarah shuffled over next to him. But her gripper must've caught on some loose ice because her foot slipped. As she pitched to the side, Chuck lunged to grab onto her arm, keeping her upright as her eyes widened, and she yelped.
The crowd let out a collective gasp and then there was a smattering of teasing applause as Chuck kept her from falling.
"You okay?" he asked, chuckling.
Kaarlo and Inka both laughed, coming up to check on her.
He could see Sarah was embarrassed so many people had seen her near catastrophe, but then she turned to the spectators closest to her and curtsied. They erupted in applause and laughter and she turned back to the game at hand.
"Can we all just curl now?" she said, and Inka snorted, putting a hand on Sarah's shoulder and sliding back down the sheet to the hack to deliver Team Finland's next rock.
As Sarah stepped up close to him, he felt her shoulder brush against his arm. "Thanks for keeping my skull safe," she muttered.
They were mic'd still so he bit back the replies that went through his head. Instead, he just breathed a quiet, "Oh, sure. What are partners for?"
Her shoulder pushed even more against him, and he felt like she did it on purpose.
The thing was, he'd seen the way she'd looked at him earlier, when he was only in a towel. She hadn't seemed to want to do much to hide that she was checking him out. And as gratifying as it was to have a woman as extraordinarily stunning as Sarah Walker look at him with that much…Well, to be frank, lust…It was seriously doing some crazy things to his insides. Like how he kept hearing the blood rushing through his ears. How every touch between them felt like a branding iron sizzling at his skin. And the looks she kept giving him.
Like now for instance.
Inka and Kaarlo managed to clear the rock Sarah'd delivered to the button out of the house. And now it was up to Chuck to bury a rock behind Sarah's other rock at the eight foot. That would be impossible for Kaarlo to get to. Even if the Finns somehow got one of their rocks into the button, they'd only get one point if Chuck could just execute this delivery the way he needed to.
"Seconds?" Sarah asked across the ice as he scooted over to the hack.
"Uh…I don't know. You tell me."
"From your hand to the house, I'd say nine maybe?"
Chuck couldn't help the slow smile on his face as he looked across the sheet towards her. They were probably one hundred feet away from one another and he could still see a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes. "Eight and a half," he said. "But I'm gonna need some mean sweeping."
"You know that's exactly what you're gonna get," she said. God, please let him be the only one who'd heard the innuendo. He was standing on a sheet of ice and he still felt so warm.
He let out a slow breath and pulled their last rock of the End over, positioning himself and casting off. As he let go of the rock, he gave it a gentle turn and watched the curl for a moment before getting back to his feet and following.
Sarah met him halfway. They could only afford the smallest of glances before they both worked, Sarah on the right, Chuck on the left, sweeping…faster…faster…
"Keep going," came Sarah's tight voice. "Yes, yes…Hard!"
Chuck swept vigorously as Sarah stepped back.
"Yes!" she cried out.
He finally lifted the broom and watched as the rock curled into a perfectly buried spot, even freezing itself to their rock biting the eight foot ring.
"Nice shot." She was a little out of breath, a sheen of sweat on her neck as she slid over and put a hand on his torso. She squeezed his waist as she moved past him and he had to let out another slow breath.
The Finns tried but couldn't manage to get their rock to stay near the button, overshooting it by mere inches and keeping one of Chuck and Sarah's rocks in lying position. They scored one more point, making the score eleven to four as they headed into the eighth End.
This time, Chuck sidled up next to Sarah, watching as the Finns huddled close together to talk for a few moments, and he felt his partner's gaze on his profile. When he turned to look at her, he felt the air around them buzzing.
He told himself to focus on the task at hand, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about that sound she'd made when he'd slipped his hand underneath her layers to feel her warm, smooth skin…
Day two and this was already close to unbearable.
How had this even happened?
And now they were in front of millions of people and he really needed to look away.
So he did, just in time to see Kaarlo coming over to concede the game. They shook hands and Chuck even brought the man in for a quick hug. He'd enjoyed this match with the Finns. They were nice, fun, easygoing. He shook hands with Inka as well, and then he went over to sign for the officials, handing them back their pen and clipboard and thanking them.
When he got back to Sarah's side, she beamed.
"I think we've earned a free McFlurry, frankly," he joked.
There was amusement in her face then and suddenly her arms were around him in a tight, but quick hug. As quick as it was, however, it wasn't fast enough that she didn't turn her face so that her lips brushed against his ear. "Just the one? We sharing?"
She pulled back and followed the Finish team to the tunnel.
Chuck had to pull himself together quickly, knowing plenty of people were still watching, but his knees were quivering. Thankfully he made it off the ice and into the prep room without collapsing.
And it wasn't until the Finns left and they were mostly alone in the room that she flung her arms around him again. She held onto him for much longer this time, and he hugged her back.
"Sarah…"
She squeezed him tighter. "Yeah, Chuck?" She was breathless. He could hear it in her voice. He wasn't alone in this. It wasn't just him. He squeezed her back.
"I think maybe that rule is kinda stupid." He felt her take a deep breath. She didn't ask 'what rule?' They both knew what rule. So he continued. "And if Ellie hadn't been there to interrupt it anyway, I'd say I made a mistake stopping things earlier."
"I'd say we both did."
The door opened behind them and Chuck let her go. Sarah took a slow step away from him as Beckman and Graham both walked in. And she didn't look away from his eyes for even a split second as their coaches came round to pat them on their backs, congratulating them.
Graham finally pulled Chuck into a hug and he was forced to look away from his partner, hugging the man back and laughing.
"Two wins! Two wins just today!" Graham exclaimed. He thumped Chuck on the back and stepped away. "Two wins out of three! Not bad, you two. Not bad."
"Thanks, coach," Sarah said, letting Becks pull her into a gruff side-hug.
"No meeting tonight. Just get some rest. Your game tomorrow is at noon so make sure to get to the gym sometime in the morning…get those limbs loose." Beckman then turned a warning glance on Chuck. "No McFlurries."
He was about to whine teasingly but then Sarah caught his eye with a look that was unmistakably heated. "Trust me, I'm not letting him anywhere near a McFlurry."
"Seems unfair," he practically squeaked out, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt and clearing his throat. There was a voice in his head screaming the exact opposite.
They all left together once Chuck and Sarah changed their shoes and bundled up. It was snowing as they got outside, and Chuck couldn't help but let it make his insides feel like sunshine and rainbows, as stupid as it sounded.
It didn't matter how often they'd gone up to Big Bear, Arrowhead, and on occasion all the way up to Mammoth when he was growing up, he still felt such a sense of wonder when he saw snow. Even now after a short career as an Olympic ski jumper. It was beautiful, as much as Ellie had texted him about hating the conditions on the downhill slope that first practice run she did.
Graham and Becks climbed onto the bus with them, too. Chuck felt like it was a good idea to make Sarah sit beside Graham while he sat next to Becks. He was fidgeting, squirming. So impatient. And as Beckman and Graham chattered away across the aisle for those ten minutes, Chuck found he didn't want to break his gaze away from Sarah's.
As tight as his pants were starting to feel.
Thankfully, he was wearing a long parka.
And as they pulled to a stop in front of their building, he was that much closer to…
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and wrinkled his nose as she sent him a slow smile, and they both got up to join their coaches in getting off of the bus.
Unfortunately, Chuck had to go through a round of congratulations from the U.S. athletes who were lounging around in the U.S.A. house as they walked to the elevators. It was incredibly kind. And he was a little starstruck by some of the big names who approached. The TV was turned to curling, however, and he figured they must have all been watching the win over Finland here.
It was gratifying.
But then they got into the elevator…
Beckman and Graham bid them goodnight as the elevator door slid open on their floor. They were almost out but then Beckman turned and slammed her hand on the frame to keep the door from shutting. Chuck nearly let out a whimper, and just barely held it back.
"Make sure you get plenty of sleep. No strategizing or studying 'til morning. No gym. No exercise."
"Got it. We got it," Chuck rushed out. "G'niiight."
Beckman smiled and stepped back, leaving with Graham.
The moment the doors slid shut again, Sarah let out a quick, "Yeah, fuck that."
And they slammed together for the second time that day, lips meeting, hands grappling at coats. Sarah won the race, however, and he whimpered when he felt her cool fingers against his bare hip, clutching him tighter and pulling him in against her.
That pesky ding sounded before they got too far and he groaned in annoyance, reluctantly letting her go and whipping around to face the door. He heard her breathless laughter behind him as the doors opened and they both rushed out in a flurry.
Thankfully no one was there waiting for the elevator, and the hallways were also empty, allowing for them to continue kissing as they made their way to their apartment.
"Mmm….m'wait," she murmured against his lips.
"No, please don't say we have to stop," he practically whimpered.
"I just have to get my key out, you horndog."
"You're the one who gave that McFlurry line, right out in the open, too…" he breathed against her neck as she grappled with her key to get the door open. He nibbled just under her ear as she giggled.
The door finally whooshed open and they half-fell inside. Chuck just barely had the mind to slam it shut behind them, pointedly reaching up to slide the extra lock in place as she giggled with her tongue between her teeth.
A trail of multiple layers of clothes wound through the room to the couch in front of the TV where they made a pit stop to round second base, and then the trail curled into the bedroom.
Snow fell hard outside of their apartment, wind howling, but Chuck was too lost to pay it any mind. They ended up buried in the covers of one of their beds—he didn't even notice which one—no layers between them, skin to skin, vying for control and rolling back and forth, laughing, sighing…and eventually moaning, whimpering.
For the first time in the months since Diane Beckman recruited him onto Team U.S.A. curling, Chuck chose to ignore his coach's instructions. He did not rest, not even for a moment. He gave Sarah everything he had. And he did study—oh, did he study. Every last inch of her, and she him.
Everything else, even the fact that they still had two Olympic matches to play that next day, faded from importance.
There was only this.
A/N: And it just gets worse from here.
Hahahahahahahaha I'm totally messing with you. I'm just playin'. Leave a review! I love you!
-ESC (permanently as far as this story is concerned)