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: YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT'S IN STORE FOR YOU! I'm gonna shut up and just let you find out.
Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I don't own the characters in this show.
Sarah Walker grinned up at the ceiling, reveling in the feeling of the man half on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his arms wrapped around her, soft curls tickling her neck as he squeezed her tighter.
She snuggled closer and pressed her lips against his head, loving how his damp curls were still just as soft.
"That shower felt pretty amazing," she said, her voice crackly and satisfied.
"It was nice not to have to make the water so cold this time."
She laughed, her chest bouncing under his head. "And not having to come out here in a towel to get your clothes?"
Chuck lifted his head and shifted up her body so that he could look down into her face. "See, the way you avoid that mishap is to just skip the whole clothes thing altogether. Case in point." He gestured between them.
She laughed again, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, that's not something you can do for every occasion, funny guy." Sarah felt Chuck go stiff. It was just for a moment, so subtle she barely even caught it. But she did catch it. "Hey…what? What is it?"
"Hm? Oh. Nothin'." He slid his arms under her back and grinned down at her so that his nose got all cute and wrinkled, and then he rolled them both over so that he was on his back with her lying on his chest this time.
Sarah smiled at him, propping herself up and playing with his hair between her fingers. "You got really tense for a second. I felt it."
"It was a shiver."
"Uhhh…no."
"Yes."
"No." She lifted an eyebrow and moved her face down to gently kiss his jaw, dragging her lips down, nipping at his earlobe between her teeth, and lightly blowing into his ear. She felt him shiver. "That's a shiver, Bartowski. We've been in this bed, and then in that shower, for a few hours now and I know what it feels like when you shiver."
He groaned quietly, and she wasn't really sure if it was a turned on groan, or if it was a frustrated she'd read him so well groan.
"Tell me," she whispered, kissing his temple.
Chuck bit his lip and winced. "It's what you called me."
"What? Bartowski? Isn't that your name?" Then something occurred to her. "Wait, did I offend you when I called you a nerd in the shower? You kept throwing out this weird computer lingo when I was—"
"No, no. Not that. I fully embrace that I am a nerd. Also, please don't…erm…hold that against me. It-It's a weird sex habit I have. I can stop if you want me to."
"I don't want you to," she said, almost overwhelmed by how adorable he was.
"Oh. Okay. Then I…won't." He shook his head then and cleared his throat. "No, you called me…you called me funny guy."
She frowned a little, curious. "Funny guy bothers you?"
"It-It's not the name itself. It's more…who uses it."
"Oh." She tilted her head. "Oh," she repeated. "Who else has used that? It just kind of slipped out because you're a goof." She smiled at him and poked his chin, leaning in to kiss him in the same spot.
He let out a soft chuckle. "I know. And I'm not upset with you, it was just strange hearing it come from you after—" He huffed. "I wasn't gonna tell you this, but I don't want to keep stuff from you. I really just didn't feel like it was necessary to upset you with trivial shit."
"What are you talking about, Chuck?"
"Bryce."
She felt cold then and she squirmed a bit further into his body, glad that he wordlessly understood and pulled the covers up over her shoulders, wrapping his warm arms around her.
It wasn't a nice feeling, hearing her ex-boyfriend's name when she'd just connected in a massive and incredibly meaningful way with another man, a better man. And here she was lying in said other man's arms, having just had sex with him for a wickedly long period of time.
"Sorry. I know. He's the worst possible thing to bring up right now. After everything we just—You know, I mean, because we're…I don't know…what…we are…Can I just rewind? Start over?"
In spite of everything, she giggled and nodded, so insanely charmed by him.
"Thanks," he breathed. "He cornered me in the lobby the other night, before the opening ceremony. He thought it was his job to give me advice, or something. I dunno."
"Advice about what?"
"Being your mixed doubles partner. He basically told me not…not to do this. What we just did." He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling it and making it stick up even worse. "I obviously didn't listen to him."
"No. You did not." She smiled softly and couldn't help but stroke the backs of her fingers down his jaw. "Listen, Chuck, before you continue. Devon sort of slipped when you were in the shower—don't be mad at him, I forced him to talk," she rushed out when Chuck rolled his eyes and huffed.
"Did he tell you about Bryce? Damn it! What a sneaky bastard. I didn't even realize he'd seen Bryce standing there. I'm not trusting a single word that comes outta that stud's mouth from now on."
She could see he was teasing now and she chuckled softly. "I wormed it out of him with snacks. Ellie tried to protect your secret but the snacks were too powerful."
Chuck laughed. "Sounds about right, yeah." Then he swallowed thickly and sobered a bit. "Listen, if you don't mind, I don't wanna give you details about what he said. But he did that 'funny guy' thing he used to do when we would curl on the same team back in the beginning and I just kinda…I always hated it. I felt patronized." Sarah winced and bit her lip, but he rushed on. "It's okay, it's totally fine if you wanna commandeer the term and make me like it. That's fine with me. For the record. Like, for instance, I can give you pointers on when to use it to make me like it waaaaaay better…" He leaned up and pressed his lips to her ear, whispering some pretty naughty things and making her laugh.
Another hour passed, which included a second shower and a bed switch.
Sarah stared at the window, watching the white flurry of snow outside. She thought Chuck was asleep behind her, his arm slung over her, spooning her from behind. They'd wordlessly both decided clothes were a good idea this time, then climbed into the other bed. She felt a bit…shy about climbing in next to him. It was different this time. They weren't falling into bed to have sex. Instead, she'd shifted onto her side and scooted back against his chest, and he'd put his head on the same pillow hers was on. And it was so comfortable, but it had just felt…strange.
It hadn't taken long for her to really ease herself into his warmth and relax, letting him drape his zip-up sweatshirt he was wearing over her body and hug her close. It was a kindness, a sweetness, she'd never been treated to by anyone she'd ever been with.
And now he was sleeping, his face pressed up against the back of her head.
His hand suddenly shifted from where it had settled against her stomach and came to rest on her hip, his warm fingers dipping under the hem of the T-shirt she wore and stroking her soft skin. She shivered and turned her face into the pillow to hide the sudden smile.
So apparently he wasn't sleeping. And when she heard him murmur her name, it was further proof he was fully awake.
"Sarah?"
"Hm?"
"We went back on what we agreed to do—or I guess, not to do—when we were on the flight over here."
"We did."
He hummed quietly and nuzzled her neck. "I'm glad we did."
"Me, too."
"I just don't really understand what…" He let out a slow breath. "You were so certain that it was for the best that we hold off on our shared feelings—this magnetic, electrified pull between us, the thing that's been here since this partnership started. At least, I think it's been here. I've felt it from…" His voice faded off and she wanted to hear more. When did he feel it? When they first moved in together? Before that even? Had there been something for him even when she was dating Bryce, she wondered? She'd barely even talked much to him back then. He was kind of more in the background. She thought he was a nice guy, a hard worker by all accounts, and kind of cute. There couldn't have been something under that. But had he had a crush on her or something? The thought that this might be the case made her a little sad—missed opportunities and all that—but it also made her heart feel full somehow. That feeling when it's cold outside and you take that first drink of red wine—the warmth that floods your chest and stomach…
"From when?" she prompted, turning her head a bit. She still couldn't see his face.
There was a long pause. "It isn't important. What I'm trying to say—or ask, really—is what it was that made you okay with us breaking our agreement. Because even just earlier today, we both stopped ourselves. Between then and after our second match, something changed. I guess I'm trying to figure out what."
She let his question settle in her brain for a few moments while he patiently waited, his fingers still playing a pattern on her hip. She unconsciously reached down and picked up his hand, pulling his arm to curl more around her torso and hugging it against her chest, their fingers still intertwined.
"Well," she started, licking her lips. "I guess, first of all, I couldn't help myself any longer." She paused. "Maybe I could've helped myself. I've got pretty strong willpower. I just…didn't want to." His lips brushed against her neck, right at her hairline, and she sighed, smiling a little again. "That's the first thing. I didn't want to stop myself anymore. I wanted to do this."
"That's a good enough reason for me, if I'm being perfectly honest with you."
Sarah giggled and hugged his arm tighter, scooting herself back even further against his body. He draped one leg over both of hers and she felt fully enveloped in his embrace. She wondered if this wasn't the safest she'd ever felt in her life. But that was…big. That was a big thought. So she pushed it away quickly.
"Good," she said quietly. "But it isn't the only reason. I mean, that's probably what made me act in the first place—falling into bed with you. But in those scant few moments in which I was capable of lucid thought tonight," she felt more than heard him chuckle, his chest bouncing against her back, and she smiled, "I was thinking about us out on the ice, during our games. We played two whole games today, Chuck, and we did it knowing full well what's between us. Or, at least, I think we each had an idea."
He nodded, his lips brushing against her neck again. His extra attentions while she reasoned with all of this weren't even distracting, she found. They did make her feel good, though. Very good.
"We were in this groove and it wasn't interrupted at all by what happened in the elevator and continued into this apartment. Even the towel situation…"
"There was a towel situation?" Chuck asked in a droll voice. "What towel situation?"
She snorted, feeling his mouth stretch into a smile as he nuzzled his face against her."You were kind of a doof—a very sweet doof, stupidly adorable and charming—but even that didn't feel awkward or…uncomfortable. Maybe I'm projecting and it felt that way for you."
"No, you were very clearly checking me out. And I had no idea what to do about that except maybe…hide again. But at the same time, I kinda wanted to stay standing there for a little while longer because it was pretty gratifying. It was a conflicting feeling, but I wouldn't say I was uncomfortable. In fact, I definitely wasn't. Uh, embarrassed? Maybe. A little. Stunned? Definitely. Confused? Yes. But not uncomfortable." He chuckled and she craned her neck to at least look in his direction a little, enough for him to see her wide smile, then she turned back and snuggled her face into the pillow again.
"We play really well together, Chuck. We played well before we talked about this two-way magnetism between us, and we've played well after. Only difference is that we hadn't acted on the feelings yet."
"We have now, though."
"Mmm, we were both pretty emphatic, too."
"It felt necessary."
"God, it so did." She finally shifted in his embrace, turning around to face him, their chests pressed together. He wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her in close, their foreheads touching, and she took the opportunity to rub his nose with her own. It made him grin and her chest ached in the best way.
"The thing is, I was afraid that if we didn't hold back, if we let this…sexual tension between us snap…" She felt stupid for blushing and she was glad there was only a bit of light coming in through the window, enough for them to see one another, but hopefully he couldn't see her blush. "…We'd fall into what happened in Mammoth that last day. When we nearly kissed and I practically ran away from you, we played terribly after that. We just weren't on the same page and it sucked. I thought there was a chance that might happen again if we were intimate."
"That makes sense," he murmured. "But what made you change your mind?"
"Like I said before, we've both acknowledged there's more than just a partnership here. During the flight, we both made it pretty clear. I wanted more, and I felt like you did, too. It was just that we made the agreement not to act on that during the Olympic games." He nodded. "But we knew, Chuck, and we still played like…God, we've been on fire. Even in that first game, we played so well against the Chinese. I know we lost, but we still played so well. We were connecting, gelling. I mean, I felt like our delivering was fantastic, the communication perfect. I think—" She took in a slow breath and let it out just as slowly, charmed by how steady and patient he was, his tired eyes so warm and inviting, his arms and his body as a whole just so comfortable and secure. "I think acknowledging this between us has made us a better team. We're curling better than we ever have before. I—I personally feel like I've never been this confident or calm or steady out there on the ice."
Chuck nodded slowly. "I think you're right. I've never been that confident in myself—my own throws, my decision-making. But ever since I found out you might have feelings for me that extend past our partnership, our friendship even, I've had a lot more confidence." He cleared his throat. "I feel like that's probably the case when you discover the most stunning, outrageously beautiful woman in the entire universe—who is nice and super cool in equal measures—has romantic-ish feelings for you."
"Excuse me, I'm going to need you to take the 'ish' out of that sentence, thank you. I feel like the last few hours, I've done my part in proving I have fully romantic feelings for you, no 'ish' about it." She arched an eyebrow and pushed herself up to hover over him, propping her elbow on the pillow and resting her head on her palm.
"I stand corrected," he said, and then he furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "More accurately, I lie down corrected."
Sarah giggled and shook her head at him, rolling her eyes as well for good measure. "You're such a freakin' dork."
"Nerd."
"Both."
"I'll take it."
Giggling through her nose, she leaned down and kissed his cheek, letting him gather her up in his arms and pull her down to drape herself over his chest again, burying her face under his chin.
"I think what you're saying, Sarah, is that this thing between us is making us better curlers. It's pushing our game forward, guiding us on the ice."
"Yeah. I think it is."
"Is-Is that a new thing?"
She frowned a little in confusion, then pushed herself up to look down into his face. "A new thing?" Then it dawned on her as she watched him wince, like he wished he hadn't asked her that. He was tiptoeing around Bryce—more to the point, her relationship with Bryce. "Oh." He winced harder. "This isn't the same thing. I'm not—I'm not repeating what happened there with you."
"No, I know. I didn't mean to insinuate—I don't think you're—"
Sarah smiled and put a finger gently to his lips, efficiently getting him to stop talking.
"This isn't the same thing. Curling drove the relationship I had with Bryce. Curling, sponsorships, being in a rut. I mean, if you can imagine this, we held onto our sponsorships no matter what was happening with our curling, even though our relationship was practically a shell of what relationships are supposed to be. At least, what I think they're supposed to be. It was so easy to just keep things going, stay with the status quo. Because it worked, even if I was unhappy. Obviously he was unhappy, too. But we got money and...whatever." Her voice faded.
Chuck just nodded, and she slowly lifted her finger from his lips. She was grateful that he allowed her to continue speaking, not filling the quiet space with empty assurances that he understood, even if he maybe didn't. He really was something else, this man.
"I would never have known you existed if curling hadn't brought us together. But this?" She gestured between them. "This feels like a lot more than curling."
"Well, you typically curl with your clothes on. And if I ever hear you make a sound like the ones I heard you make in the last few hours while we're in the middle of a match, I will proceed to faint. Immediately."
She laughed hard and reached up to ruffle his hair, making him squeak and halfheartedly try to fight her off. "You smart-ass."
"No, I-I know what you mean," he said with a chuckle, catching her wrist and bringing it in for a warm kiss right to her pulse point. It made her squirm a bit against him, it was such a sweet and intimate gesture. "And I agree. If we woke up tomorrow and curling was made illegal by some Illuminati-type world order and we could never curl again, I'd still want this so freakin' bad. I'd want you."
"Okay, you are a nerd," she giggled. He shrugged as if to say I told you so. "But yes, that's what I mean, more or less. What happened tonight isn't about curling."
"No. It definitely isn't."
"It's different."
"It is," he agreed, nodding emphatically.
"Though I have to admit," she said, shifting herself so that her body was more on top of him, pressing her forehead to his. "Watching you bury that rock to finish that seventh End tonight was a serious turn on. Sexiest delivery I've seen in a long time."
"Made ya really wanna get your rocks off, huh?" His cheeky grin was met with the extra pillow. "Ow!"
-oooo-
"This was a good idea."
Chuck looked up from his third McDonald's sausage and egg biscuit and smiled across the table at Sarah. "What? McDonald's? This has been breakfast for the past few days."
"No," she giggled. "I mean, deciding to skip the gym. It made this morning nice and leisurely."
"It did." He paused, glancing around to make sure no one was sitting near enough to overhear, and then he leaned in towards her. "But I feel like the less leisurely part can easily take the place of the gym, if you catch my drift."
He felt a sharp pain in his shin. "Ow. Wha—?"
Sarah's eyes widened as she looked around them. "I catch your drift, Chuck, but I'd prefer it if passersby didn't catch your drift."
"Right, right. Sorry. I thought I said it quiet enough but…" He mimicked zipping his mouth shut.
"Please." She bit her lip then. "But you're right, it totally counts as a workout in my book."
"Score."
"I'll say you did," she muttered.
"This isn't fair," he chuckled. "You can flirt, but I can't?"
"I was much quieter."
He shook his head at her, laughing as he finished off his biscuit. "Just…so we have our story straight. If they ask how the workout went…"
"Spent an hour switching between weights and the stationary bike.""Perfect. Got it. Becks probably won't ask."
She shrugged. "Nah."
Suddenly, they were assailed by Jane and Anna, both of the women sliding their trays up next to Chuck's and Sarah's and plopping down next to them, Jane beside Sarah and Anna next to Chuck.
"Good morning, you two," Jane said. "That was some fancy curling yesterday."
"Thank you," Sarah chirped. "It felt pretty good."
"Yeah, I could tell."
"You two destroyed those Danes. Wow," Anna pitched in, taking out half of her croissant in one bite.
"Hey, hey now." Chuck stuck his hand out. "Inka and Kaarlo are pretty chill. Hopefully after the tournament, I can buy Kaarlo a round. I like that guy."
"Focus on beating him again first…I hear they're supposed to place pretty high and you might have to face them again in the semifinals," Jane said, leaning forward and pointing at him.
He nodded sagely. "True, true."
"You guys didn't buy 'em a round last night?"
Oh. He hadn't even thought about it. Did you do that in the Olympics the way you did during bonspiels? "Uh…"
"We were tired."
"Yep. Super tired. Long day. Had to sleep." He felt Sarah's eyes on him and he thought maybe stopping there would have been the best idea. And yet… "It's crazy. Like, the difference between a bonspiel match and a match in the Olympics. Way more draining. You'll see later when your event starts."
They both nodded. He let out a subtle breath.
"Oh, by the way, on Twitter—" Anna said, fishing her phone out of her Team U.S.A. jacket pocket.
Chuck blanched. "Can we not talk about that shitshow of a place, please?"
"No, it's not bad. It's actually super funny. You know how fast the Internet is. You've got memes already."
"I'm sorry?" Sarah asked.
"Memes, you have memes."
"It's a crack-up," Jane added, gesturing to Anna's phone as the other woman tapped away on it. "You gotta see these."
Chuck and Sarah exchanged a look. At least he wasn't alone in his confusion…and slight concern, as he saw in her face.
"Kay, this is one of my faves," Anna said, turning the screen for him to see. "Get you a man who looks at you the way Chuck looks at Sarah when she delivers a stone."
Chuck took her phone and looked, immediately shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. It was a picture of him peering across the ice with a slight smile, his eyes bright and warm, his broom propped on his shoulder. "Oh my God, I'm probably not even looking at her. That's just my face."
Anna cracked up as he handed the phone across the table to Sarah. She burst into laughter and had to cover her mouth with a hand to muffle it. When she finally pulled her hand away and passed the phone back to Anna, she shook her head. "Pffft. He was probably looking at his boyfriend Kaarlo."
They exchanged an amused look across the table.
"You joke but Kaarlo and I would make a beautiful couple. Admit it."
Sarah quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head in agreement as Jane lifted a hand. "I have no shame in saying that both of you fine specimens together would be beautiful."
"See?" Then he nodded emphatically at Jane. "Also, thank you for calling me a fine specimen. Much obliged."
"Just tellin' it like it is." Then she turned to Anna. "Show 'em the other one. This one's gonna make you wanna die. Just wait."
"Which one? The—oohhh yeah!" Anna cackled as she dug around on her phone some more.
"I don't know if I want to know," his partner drawled, sipping her coffee.
"Just wait. It's hilarious." Anna finally pulled it up and passed it to Sarah first.
Chuck paid close attention to her face, watching it as it went from confusion, to realization, to amusement, and finally, she just chuckled and covered her face with her hand, passing the phone across the table to him.
"I hate the Internet," she groaned.
He snatched the phone to turn it and looked. It was that meme with the stock photo of woman and her boyfriend walking past another woman, and he's twisting around staring at the other woman, obviously interested, and his girlfriend is looking at him with a hilarious look of "how dare you?!" But someone had written "Bryce Larkin" on the girlfriend, "Lawker Shippers" over the boyfriend, and "Bartowsker Ship" over the other woman.
"Are you fuggin' kiddin' me?" he asked, unable to keep from chuckling. He pushed his fist against his mouth to try to stem the chuckles when Sarah sent him a look. "Sorry, it's just…a little funny. And definitely mostly annoying. And a complete intrusion into our personal lives. And also totally and completely fabricated based off of, like, two days of mixed doubles matches. People see what they want, I guess."
Anna grabbed her phone from him. "Oh my God, you two need to have a sense of humor. At least they aren't wishing for you to break your leg anymore, Chuck."
"I mean, some of them still are," Jane added. "Memes like that aren't helping."
He huffed and rolled his eyes.
"But it's…a little funny," Jane said with a wince.
"Can people not? Like, whatever happened to just watching curling?" Sarah asked.
"You two are interesting to watch. And that banter is sort of making people think…things are…well, you know…" She winced again.
"Well, they're not. And we're not," Sarah said, and Chuck was impressed by how steadfast and yet nonchalant she was about it. He really needed to take his cues from her.
"We know that," Anna insisted. "But the memes are still funny."
"I mean…a little. They're clever," Chuck added. "But if any of you ever even try to refer to our mixed doubles team as Bartowsker, I'll destroy everything you love."
The four of them laughed together and the subject changed, but Chuck had those memes trapped in his brain. Not the memes exactly, but the fact that they existed. Maybe part of his and Sarah's connection they had off the ice was bleeding over into how they interacted on the ice. Maybe it showed. Maybe they should dial it back a bit, since they'd decided this morning that keeping all of this completely secret from everyone was the best idea. If they had people making this tournament about them being in a relationship rather than the sport, it would definitely be a distraction, even if being together wasn't a distraction for them on the ice. When this was all over, she told him they could revisit all of the details. But for now, their coaches couldn't know, their families, their friends and teammates, especially no press or the public…none of them could know.
They just had to conduct their extracurricular activities behind closed doors, specifically the closed doors of their Olympic Village apartment. If they managed to keep it there, and there only, they'd be totally fine.
He could do that.
Right?
…Right.
-oooo-
As enjoyable as the first half of the day had been, the second half was a bit more trying, Sarah found.
She looked up at the scoreboard.
They were almost at halftime, in the midst of the fourth End, and they were down two points to South Korea's five. As well as she felt she and Chuck were doing with their stones, the Koreans were doing better. Choi Soo-bin was one of the greatest curlers in the world with her deliveries. Her accuracy so far in the match, including her hits, was close to one hundred percent.
And now South Korea was lying three rocks, one biting the button, another in the four foot and a third biting the twelve foot. They'd systematically removed Chuck's two rocks from counting position and now the team only had Sarah's first rock that she'd delivered, just barely biting into the house.
"We removed the guards," Chuck was saying, peering down at their options. "If we knock this one, we could potentially bounce both of their rocks and hope for no roll on the shooter, lay it on the button. That gets us the one point."
Sarah nodded. "Yeah, they've got us cornered. We can only take the one point, I guess."
"You can do it."
She flicked her eyes up to his, smiling a little. "Of course I can."
Sarah slid her way back to where her last rock sat, awaiting its delivery. Either they took this point or South Korea took three, and they'd be losing two to eight. "Damn it," she breathed just quiet enough that she thought maybe people watching at home wouldn't hear.
As she set up the delivery, pulling the rock over in front of the hack with her broom, she glanced down at Chuck. "You gonna give me something to look at over there, bud?"
"Who, me?" he teased, and in spite of the dire situation, she smiled. There was tension in the air. She knew this was an important shot. But the way Chuck was moving, so loose, his voice measured and calm, the way he seemed to not be fretting just yet, buoyed her confidence.
They still had four more ends to come back if this throw didn't do what she needed it to do.
But it would do what she needed it to do. She just had to hit it at the perfect angle and with the perfect strength. If she did it right, the throwing stone would have almost no roll, if any at all.
That was the goal.
Chuck set his broom then and she frowned a bit, straightening up from her delivery position. "No," she said, shaking her head.
"You don't like that?"
"I think it's too on the nose."
"But, see? You hit it right here and it bounces…bam!" He moved his brush to signal where the South Korean rock would hit the other. "This one splits off this way, this guy goes that way, the shooter stays put, we get a point."
Sarah sighed. "It feels like it's gonna end up being too thick. It'll miss the other stone, or just graze it, and they'd get a steal of one, maybe even two depending on how the shooter rolls."
Chuck looked to think it through. She thought he was going to continue arguing. She could see the gears going in his head, and she knew he was running the numbers. If they continued arguing this, they'd run low on time. And she had to trust him.
"Okay," she yelled. "I'll do it more on the nose, like you're saying."
"No."
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"No, you're right," he continued. "For once." Sarah glared at him as he sent a teasing look down the ice at her. "If you have the right strength hitting it here could mean it rolls into this third stone. That'll keep it from straying too far." She hadn't thought of that.
They met eyes down the ice, and then he said, "Give it to me the way you like it."
A shiver went up and down her spine in the best way possible and she squirmed a bit. He knew exactly what he just said, and he knew how he'd said it, and he knew she'd heard it that way. She could tell as he stood up to his full, towering height and set his broom more to the side.
"How you like this?"
"I like it a lot," she replied, getting into her favorite position behind the last rock of the End. It sucked having to only take one point when you had the hammer, but it was better than letting Choi Soo-bin steal three, damn it.
She slid away from the hack then, making sure to give her delivery enough strength. The two South Korean rocks she was aiming to take out were close enough together that it would take a lot of power to take them both.
As she let go of the rock, she followed it, sweeping.
"Yep! Yep!" Chuck called. "Perfect line. Hard! HARD!"
She arched over the stone, practically scrubbing at the ice with her broom she was sweeping so hard.
"Whoa! Whoa!"
Sarah let up and stepped back, watching as her rock smacked into the red Korean stone right where she'd aimed. The rock then cracked into the other red rock and they both split off towards the twelve foot ring. Miraculously, while the yellow shooter did have some roll, like Chuck had predicted, it lightly bumped the other red, sending it a few inches away, but it kept close to the button, finishing the End with Team U.S.A. taking a point.
She sighed in relief watching the score change. They were only sitting two points down going into the second half of the game.
Beckman met them at the prep room as they filed in, towels around their necks and water in hand.
"We've drawn Canada next. Remember the team that whooped your asses on that last day in Mammoth?" she asked, putting one foot up on the locker bench, leaning over them as they both sat. Sarah nodded.
"Shit, is that them? We lost two-nine," her partner said, eyes wide.
"No. The team you're playing tonight pulverized that team in a bonspiel in Quebec two months ago. Suffice to say, while I believe in you two more than I've ever believed in anyone I've coached before, win this damn game. Because if you don't, you'll have two losses today."
"Gee, thanks Coach," Chuck drawled sarcastically.
"Hey. I'm here to give you the realness."
"Is that what it's called? We can win tonight. It all has to do with—"
"Dear boy, do not say physics. You two are good, but Bisset and Phillips are prepped to take gold. One, they're Canadian. Two, they're the best Canada has to offer. Canada's worst could probably beat the best from other countries," she droned. "And three, they have mowed over the Olympic Athletes from Russia, China, Finland, and I just got off the phone with Graham, they massacred the Swiss."
"So we're just…resigning ourselves to losing tonight then?" Sarah asked.
"Don't be dramatic, Walker. I'm just saying we need this win today, because tonight is going to be way more intense, an uphill battle, if you will. We don't want to be three losses in the hole on just our third day of the event."
Sarah let out a long breath and hung her head, trying to push the tension out of her body.
"Yeah," she heard Chuck mutter. "We'll have quite the battle to come back from if we lose both games today."
"That's all I'm saying," their coach reasoned. "I'm not trying to be the party pooper, but these are the Olympics. We have to tighten our suspenders—"
"Suspenders?"
"Shut up, Bartowski. And what's with all of that banter out there? I re-watched yesterday's games this morning with Graham. Is any of that helping at all?" She made a tired face.
Sarah turned to glance at Chuck and he looked back, before turning to face Diane again.
"Yes. Teasing Sarah helps keep me loose. Laughing, joking…"
"It isn't a distraction, is it?"
"No," Sarah said. "It's…helping me, too. Weirdly enough." She tilted her head and furrowed her brow.
That got them a shrug and a chuckle. "Well, if it works, it works. The team's been diving into social media instead of training while they're at training—like a bunch of freaking idiots—and you two are slowly gaining some real traction with Americans watching the games. People were explaining the rules to mixed doubles in the Bartow…Barst…Ugh, whatever stupid name they've got for you now, there's a whole…what's it called? Hashish whatever?"
Chuck let out a bark of laughter, causing the South Koreans across the room to glance their way, amusement on their faces. "Hashish? You talkin' about a hashtag?" He laughed again and got a teasing smack to the side of his head with his own towel.
"You're an ass. I'm old. Give me a break."
"I'm just sayin'…I'm calling hashtags hashish tags, now."
"My point," Beckman emphasized as she glanced at her watch. "If the back and forth chit-chatting is somehow helping, I guess that's fine. And it's selling you with fans. Some of them even like Chuck."
"Gosh, thanks." He gave her a wry smile.
"I've just never heard curlers talk so damn much before. You two don't shut up."
Sarah had never talked so much while curling before, either. But it worked. It helped. It settled her nerves. It grounded her and kept her from getting too stuck up in her own head. Things were so serious when she'd curled with Bryce as her partner. He got all broody during the games. He was focused but in an unapproachable way. And he was a stick in the mud afterwards if they lost. It had always made her a bundle of nerves. She'd felt tense. She'd slip up, miscalculate, not wanting to have to deal with angry Bryce later.
She didn't have that worry with Chuck. She could just enjoy the game—focus, of course, but enjoy.
Beckman finally left and the attendant called them back onto the ice again. Sarah gave Chuck a bit of a confused look when he stopped her from leaving the room, politely allowing the South Korean team to leave first. They nodded their thanks and smiled.
She didn't understand why he'd done that so pointedly until they stepped into the tunnel. No one could see when Chuck quickly slipped his hand into hers. She felt his fingers tighten, squeeze, his thumb stroking the back of her hand, and just as quickly, his touch was gone.
But God, she still felt it even when she moved into the cold room.
She flexed her hand before picking up her Team U.S.A. Broom, and they placed the rocks per South Korea's instructions since they had the hammer for the fifth End.
It was over an hour later before Chuck and Sarah managed to tie the game up with two Ends left, each team with six points. They were halfway through the seventh End when it happened.
Chuck had the fourth rock at the hack, ready to deliver. All he had to do was hit South Korea's red rock that laid halfway in the four foot ring and halfway in the eight foot ring. That, in turn, would bounce to take out another red rock, leaving the yellow shooter not just in a good counting position, but also buried behind a guard and one of their yellow rocks biting into the twelve foot at the front of the house. It would make it pretty hard for Choi Soo-Bin to take it out.
It was a shot she'd seen him make before.
But he'd had a certain look on his face when he slid to the line, and there was a definite 'oh shit' in his features when he let go of it. The moment he sprang up to his feet and followed, she saw him mouth a curse. "Line?" he asked, sweeping.
Shit. What in the hell was that throw?
"Line's off. Line's off!"
He swept even harder but the rock was going to miss the target. Wouldn't matter if he was the strongest sweeper on the planet, that rock wasn't doing what he'd intended it to do.
"Hard!" she yelled anyway. "Haaaaaaard!"
When he finally picked up his broom, sliding back to just watch as it curled past the guard. But when it made contact with the South Korean rock he'd been aiming for, that first rock just slipped out of the house, missing the second rock.
Chuck had missed a double she'd seen him make countless times before.
"Gah, I'm sorry!" he said immediately, pushing his gloved hand through his hair in frustration.
"S'alright. We're okay." She grabbed his shoulder reassuringly.
"No, I just…I didn't feel it at first but right as I was letting go, I realized the handle was loose."
She spun on him. "What?"
"Yeah, the handle on the stone. It's a bit wobbly. It threw me off."
Sarah felt a spike of annoyance go through her but she stamped it down for now, knowing that not only were they mic'd so that all of America could hear them, but Bryce was up there somewhere, gloating. He'd gloat even harder if she said to Chuck what she wanted to say.
"Next time have them tighten the handle before you deliver the stone," she said, clenching her jaw and looking away. She didn't add Are you SERIOUS right now? like she wanted to.
"Oh. I…" He nodded. "Gotcha. Got it."
He must have realized about the mics same as she did, because he didn't say anything else.
The game ended later on that afternoon with the South Koreans taking the match nine points to Team U.S.A.'s eight.
Sarah waited for the mics to come off before she slid up close to Chuck's side and grabbed his arm. "Seriously, Chuck. If a handle is loose, you have to tell an official. Immediately."
"I didn't know that."
She blinked. "You didn't know that? When something's wrong with equipment, you fix it before you use it. It's like that in any sport. Skis, skates, board, stone handle…You get it fixed."
"I didn't know. That's never been a problem before. I've never had it happen."
"A loose handle? That happens all the time, Chuck." They got into the tunnel and she lowered her voice even more. "These are the Olympics. We can't afford to let the freaking handle on the stone be what keeps us from winning games!"
"I'm sorry! I haven't been doing this my whole life, okay? I made a mistake!"
Sarah bit back whatever her snappish reply would have been because they were in the prep room again and shit, one of NBC's reporters was there waiting for her.
Chuck was basically ignored where he stood at her elbow as Eileen Ferrell pulled her in. "So a bit of a disappointment for your first match today, Sarah."
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's never great to lose by one point, you know? Uh, it always feels like if we'd done one thing differently, we could've won, so…We have things to work on, as always."
"It really seems like the difference was that missed opportunity with the double in the seventh End. Chuck's delivery was just enough off the mark. Is that something you've worked on in training?"
"Uh, yeah. You know, things you do well in training don't always come off one hundred percent perfect every time, and sometimes it just happens to be during a match when you make a mistake." She shrugged and smiled.
"But Chuck said something about the handle being loose. Did you think about taking that to the official?"
Sarah pushed the hair that escaped her ponytail back behind her ear and chose her words carefully, feeling Chuck standing behind her. She couldn't see him at all, and yet she could feel the mortification and shame and frustration emanating off of him. She could just feel it.
And she was suddenly ashamed of herself. She felt terrible.
"Well, when you're in the heat of the game, you can't always tell it's loose 'til you let go, you know?"
"Chuck, is that right? You couldn't tell?"
The microphone was shoved in Chuck's face then. As Sarah looked at him, she saw he was beet red. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, well…See, I sort of push down a little against the running surface when I deliver a rock and I couldn't—I couldn't really tell it was jiggling until I let go and was giving it spin. And by then, it was too late."
"You couldn't have told an official right then?"
"I…"
"You know," Sarah interjected, "we both missed a few here and there and if either one of us had been just a little more perfect, maybe we would have won. Curling is a completely unpredictable sport and you just have to roll with it. No curling pun intended."
"That is true," Eileen chuckled. "All right, well good luck tonight against Canada."
"Thank you," they both said, and Eileen cut. Sarah waited for the reporter and her cameraman to clear out before she moved to sit down finally and when she did, she sagged quite a bit.
They were alone, not even their coaches were in the room yet.
And Sarah opened her mouth to talk to Chuck, to say something, to freaking apologize for biting his head off, to reassure him they were okay, but then Beckman did walk into the room, Graham probably already gone to meet the rest of the team for training or something.
"Beckman, I—"
"I know. I know," Beckman held a hand up, her voice brittle. "The handle on the rock. I'm your coach, though, kid. Not your principal. I'm not going to chew you out. I'll let your partner decide if you deserve a chewing out or not. But in spite of that, you both played a game of curling you can be proud of. Choi Soo-Bin is a wicked little beast of a player, though. I swear, Lee Dae-Suk could just lie down on the ice and do nothing at all and Choi Soo-Bin would still win their team the match." She huffed and shook her head. "Listen, there's nothing I can say right now. Just get some food in you, regroup, I'll meet you both later after dinner, before the next match. We'll look at footage and I'll help you with any questions you have. There are a few things I spotted. Quick fixes. I'll pop into your apartment at seven."
They both nodded, and Beckman clapped her hands together. "Hey! Buck up. Don't feel sorry for yourselves. Fix it and kick ass."
"If I ever have children and they get into sports, I am making a banner that says 'Fix it and kick ass' to take to all of their sport games," Chuck said. They all shared a laugh and Beckman left them alone again.
Sarah listened to the sound of Chuck changing his shoes and she slowly leaned down to do the same.
"Chuck, I'm really sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's okay. You're right—"
"I'm not right. Don't do that."
"Do what?" He blinked in genuine confusion.
"Don't let me get away with being an asshole, Chuck." She smiled a tad when he let out a huff in surprise, his eyes widening. "Seriously," she added. "I bit your head off about the loose handle because—Well, I know if I were in your shoes, I'd like to think I would've felt something was wrong with the handle immediately. And I would have let the officials know, they would've tightened the screws, and I'd be right back on my game. But the thing is, I'm not you. I've been curling since I was a kid practically. And I've been doing this professionally since I was, like, sixteen. Every last bit of it is instinctual by now. It's in my blood. You have a loose handle? Get it fixed. Seems easy enough to me. But you're right in that you're new to all of this. I was too harsh and it was unfair of me."
He let out a long breath. "I shouldn't have just ignored it and kept going. I should've stopped." He thumped himself in the head with the heel of his palm. "Gah, if I'd had them tighten the handle, if I'd just said something instead of not knowing what the protocol was and just going anyway instead of asking…We could've won if I wasn't such an idiot. We'd be at three wins and one loss. Instead we've got two wins and two losses. And we're going into this Bisset and Phillips match next…I just hope we don't get spanked."
Sarah sniffed in wry amusement and shook her head. "We just might end up getting spanked, so prepare yourself, buddy boy." Her shoes changed, she grabbed her sweatshirt and shrugged it on, letting Chuck help her into her coat. "But I just need you to know I'm not angry about the handle, Chuck." She turned to face him and held onto one of his hands in both of hers. "It bothers me a lot when my team loses a match by one point. It's just…so close. And I obsess over the small things I could've done differently to win. Like I told that reporter."
"Hey…" She met his eyes. "Thanks for covering for me. I mean, you had every right to throw me under the bus. This dumb ass the federation stuck you with didn't know you're supposed to stop when the handle is loose," he said, giving her a crooked smirk. She giggled through her nose and shook her head. "But ya didn't. I didn't think it was possible I could feel any luckier than I felt this morning when I woke up and you were…next to me. But nope. It's possible. It's happening. Right now." He pointed down with both fingers, grinning goofily as she giggled again. "Seriously," he said, sobering a bit, his eyes so warm and beautiful. "Thank you, Sarah. None of the fellas in this event have a better teammate than I do."
She couldn't help but beam at him. This guy was such a good curler, one of the best she'd seen. He had a gift that couldn't be learned, something in his blood. She recognized it in him because she had it in herself. But he was still rough around the edges. There was still a lot he needed to learn, some of the finer touches, the culture of the sport…little details people learned as they got more experience at the top level of curling.
"You're welcome," she said softly.
She moved to pull away and sling her bag over her shoulder, but he grabbed her hand gently and lifted it to his lips. The kiss was warm and slow, and her toes curled in her boots at the look he gave her through his eyelashes.
Yes, he had a lot to learn when it came to curling.
But she was more than willing to teach him whatever he needed to know.
A/N: I've been really working on this concept with this story. I call it the SlowBurnFastBurn. See, during the daytime hours, you get the slow burn heat factor and you're like h'ooooooo (fanning self)...and then at night it's a super fast burn, like WHOA SLOW DOWN YOU TWO YOU'RE GONNA SET THE ROOM ON FIRE. So ... enjoy the SlowBurnFastBurn. (Trademark)
-ESC (of course)