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: Get some tissues, folks. The gold medal match is here! Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK, and I'm not making any money from this.
It was almost midnight in PyeongChang, South Korea.
The snow had gotten intense outside in the last few minutes, and Chuck Bartowski stood at the window of his apartment, watching it come down in sheets. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his zip-up sweatshirt and leaned his forehead against the glass, reveling in how cold it was, even though it was making him shiver.
What a day this was.
What an insane day.
What a beautiful day.
To go from this morning, when Sarah was full-on freaking out about the pain in her back to now, knowing she was officially an Olympic gold medalist…he was just about losing his entire damn mind.
And those interviews and everything were taking forever, damn it.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw that he'd missed a text from Sarah. His heart leapt in his chest and he pulled the text up as fast as he could.
We are all in agreement. No partying until after the medals tomorrow so that we dont have to be like you after the celebration last week. Chuck snorted at that. Finally heading back.
He checked the time stamp. She'd sent it fifteen minutes earlier.
There was a chance he was being ridiculous, but he was glad they'd decided not to celebrate tonight. It was late, he was tired, he was sure they were all even more tired..and it meant Sarah would walk in that door alone and he could do what he'd wanted to do earlier when she'd climbed over the railing to hug her friends.
He wanted to cover her entire wickedly well-built, strong body in kisses. Every last inch of her.
That obviously wasn't something he could've done in that situation anyway, but he would've liked to at least been able to hold onto her longer than those short thirty seconds or so she'd clung to him crying. He couldn't even tell her how proud he was of her, for fear he'd sound a lot more like a boyfriend than a mere partner. He knew her mic was still on and that anyone tuned into NBC could hear it if he said anything.
He pulled her text up again and replied. Do you think you might be able to teleport or something? Bcuz Im gonna be honest Walker, Im aching to hold you in my arms right now.
He stared down at the text without hitting send. Things had moved pretty fast with them, faster than any other romance he'd ever been in. A lot of factors contributed to it—living in such close quarters, doing everything together, going through so much together, opening up in the way they had, the fact that he told her things he'd never told anyone before… But this was still such a new relationship. And he thought maybe he was being too intense and weird with the whole aching thing. He needed to chill.
He erased the last bit, and then instead he typed: I wanna see you so bad it hurts.
Was that any better?
No. Maybe. Probably not.
But he pressed send anyway. Oh, well. It was gone now. She was probably looking at it. Was she pleased by it? Did she think he was being clingy? It had only been two hours since he'd seen her pulled back down onto the ice and dragged into the tunnel to go off and do her gold medalist victory lap on various sports news outlets.
He didn't have too much time to freak out about it, and thankfully not nearly enough time to start spiraling, because he heard the beep of the door being unlocked by her swiping her key and it opened.
Sarah Walker stepped inside, having changed (and probably showered) at the Curling Center, he noticed. But as she caught sight of him, she shut the door behind her and slid her bag off of her shoulder, dropped it, and held her phone up, wiggling it back and forth.
"Well? Here I am."
She was obviously referring to his text, but he couldn't read the look on her face…until she broke into a slow smile, which became a beaming grin.
"Sooo…not too much then? That text I sent?"
Sarah giggled, shaking her head.
"Good." He sighed. "In that case…"
When he opened his arms in invitation, Sarah closed the distance in a few long strides. He met her part of the way, and he let her make the first move. Granted, he really didn't have a choice there, because without pausing, she threw her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest, squeezing him so tight he lost his breath. He didn't care, though; he just wrapped her up in his long arms and held her, pressing his lips to the top of his head.
"I'm still in disbelief," she murmured against his sweatshirt. "I can't believe this."
"Believe it," he said steadily. "You're an Olympic gold medalist, Sarah Walker."
She giggled breathlessly. "I am. It's crazy."
"Eh, not that crazy. I think deep down inside, I knew I'd witness this day when I first saw you two years ago at that bonspiel in Chicago. I, uh, never would've guessed I'd be this close to the triumph, though. Neeever ever."
Sarah pulled back just enough to put her chin on his chest and peer up at him with those incredible blue eyes. "So much faith in me and almost no faith in yourself."
"You're Sarah Walker, baby. You're not just anybody."
Her eyes flashed and she moved her arms, sliding them around his shoulders and raising onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek slowly before hugging him and tucking her face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Chuck."
"You did this yourself. That gold medal is yours. Your hard work, your refusal to let your naysayers get to you. The insane levels of precision, the leadership, that was you." He moved back to look in her eyes then dove in to kiss her, pulling back with a soft smack. "I'm super proud of you. I can't even put it into words, I'm so proud." She kissed him this time, smiling against his lips. And when she broke the kiss, he breathed, "And it isn't even just because you're mine."
He felt her shiver in his arms. "Say that again," she demanded.
"Which part?"
"Those last two words."
Chuck smirked, leaning down to kiss her jaw, dragging his lips to her ear. "You're mine," he said in a low, quiet voice.
She shivered again.
And this time Sarah kissed him harder, one hand opening slowly at the back of his head. He was amused by her reaction and pulled back a bit, nipping at her lip gently with his teeth to tease her.
"I didn't want to let go of you," she whispered, looking up into his eyes steadily. "But the cameras. And I had so much I wanted to say. But all I could do was cry and hold onto you as hard as I could because of the stupid mic. …But we're alone now…"
He'd been amused before, yes…But then Sarah closed her fingers around his curls and pulled. It was some sort of insane lust trigger inside of him. He didn't know how it happened, or how she was the only woman who'd ever managed to do this to him, but he wasn't amused anymore. He was just flat out turned on.
"Yes," he breathed. "We're alone."
They kissed again and Sarah pulled back after a hot few seconds. "I can say those things now."
"I think sex first, then we can say," he rushed out.
That made Sarah throw her head back with laughter, her grip tightening on his curls, her other hand splayed on his shoulder. "Yes sir."
She stepped back with an extremely smug grin on her face, grabbing his hand, and leading him the rest of the way into their bedroom.
-oooo-
"Mm'what time is it?" he asked, nuzzling her hair with his nose and tugging her bare back tighter against his chest.
"Shut up o'clock."
He turned his head into the pillow and laughed. "Jesus Christ, Walker!"
She laughed, too, swiveling around in his arms to face him and kissing his chin. "Sorry, I really wanted to say that. It's almost two."
He chuckled and groaned, making a face and shaking his head. Shut up o'clock? What a dork.
They shifted a bit so that he could extend his arm out and she could use it as a pillow, and then once they settled he found himself getting a little lost in her eyes, how warm the were in that low light coming from the lamp beside her bed.
He didn't know how long it lasted, but they stayed like that for a while, with Sarah's fingers making little circles against his hipbone, her other hand pressed against his chest, sandwiched between their bodies…
And then a smile stretched over her beautiful face and she sighed. "I'm almost tempted to go on Twitter and see what all those haters have to say now that we won gold," she said, her voice quiet, a little tentative almost.
"But-But-But!" He mocked in a childish voice. She chuckled. "I can just imagine them walking back the bullshit about you needing Bryce, needing me. After all, with me you got bronze, and leading that women's team of yours, you got gold. Sooo…"
She furrowed her brow and pouted a bit. "That's not it at all," she said quickly, and he felt her nails delicately stroke over one of his pecks. A delicious shiver went through him at the sensation. "If you're implying I only got bronze with you because you're somehow not as good as Jane, Lou, and Anna, you're wrong."
"No, no, I know," he said placatingly, reaching up with his free hand and tucking the hair that had escaped her messy bun back behind her ear. "I'm pretty freakin' proud of that bronze," he drawled. "And I'm not making comparisons…" She gave him a look. "Okay, maybe I was but there wasn't even a speck of bitterness in it. I promise. You've taken that shit-sandwich of a narrative—the one about you needing a man to succeed—and tossed it into an active volcano as a sacrifice to the gods."
She giggled through her nose. "What does that even mean? What was the sacrifice to the gods for?"
"Um…" He wracked his brain. "Good sex."
Sarah rolled onto her back and cracked up. "Well, we were having incredibly fantastic sex before, so that was a freakin' waste of a sacrifice."
Chuck blushed, pleased by her response. "Good point."
"You conceded quickly."
"Mhm. Just about the only thing I did quickly tonight. Hi-yoooo!"
She laughed and shoved at his chest playfully, her laughter turning into a giggle as he grabbed at her arms and pulled her to roll back against him, going so far as to hoist her lithe body onto his and holding her there under the covers, his arms draped over her lower back.
They both sobered after a bit and she propped herself up to hover over him, her elbows on either side of his head. She leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth.
"I couldn't stop crying tonight. When we won."
"I know. I was almost a little scared…slash, I was full-on ready to gather you up in my arms and cradle you 'til you stopped. I know it was happy cries, but I still felt a bit protective, not gonna lie." He shrugged.
Sarah melted a little. "I wanted that, too. That's why I was trying so hard to get to you. Although," she wrinkled her nose in a wince, "you didn't really have to shove Morgan on his ass."
"I just made him sit back down again. That's all. Pfft."
She giggled. "Mhm. Really hard."
"He was in the way."
They chuckled together and he couldn't help but reach up and touch her again, letting his fingers stroke down her cheek, feeling the soft slope of her jaw against his fingertips.
"Everything I've done in the last, God, ten years culminated in what happened tonight. That last delivery, that last rock, those last two points. That was the culmination of ten years of late night practices, long hours in the gym, wins and losses—so many losses—really hard lessons, people rooting for me to fail… It all just hit me at once, Chuck. And I just lost control. I don't know if you saw that interview with Eileen, but—"
"I did," he said, and she winced, obviously embarrassed. "Hey, no, no. Don't do that. Don't be embarrassed, Sarah. Nobody can blame you for being emotional. If they do, let them work for ten years to get a gold medal and see if they can fuckin' still say shit to you."
She melted again. "I love that you always seem to curse like that when you're getting huffy at people who are mean to me. It's really freaking cute."
This time, he blushed. "Well, seriously. You've earned crying, all the damn crying." But he felt like a bit of a hypocrite, because he'd pulled up the interview after he got back to the apartment and showered, and he'd absolutely cried himself, watching her go through those emotions, then full on leave to continue crying off-camera while Jane and the others carried on like the champs they were. And there was no way he was going to admit that to Sarah. Hypocrite.
"Graham had to hold me while I cried. And then I thought I was done, but then I was crying again while changing my shoes so Lou had to scoot over and hug me for a bit. And I cried in almost every interview. Not sobbing, though. I'd gotten that out of my system for the most part by the second interview." She snorted.
"You gonna cry again tonight?"
She tilted her head and furrowed her brow. "No, I think I'm good for the day. Can't promise about tomorrow, but right now, I'm good. Why?"
"I'm just saying. I only got to hold Crying Sarah for like…an iiiiitty bitty amount of time. And I definitely didn't not like it." She giggled. "What I'm saying is don't hold back on my account." He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Not that I particularly want you to cry or anything. Just, you know, I'm here. So…do what you gotta do."
Sarah laughed at the way he spread his arms out and squirmed under her, a cheesy grin on his face. "You're such a weirdo."
"Maybe I am. But I got the girl, so I don't give a fuck!"
She laughed even harder at that, letting her head sag forward, pushing her face into the pillow next to his head, her laughter muffled. She pulled back when she'd finally sobered and she propped herself up over him again, cupping his jaw gently. He just smiled slowly, took her in, every last curve of her face, the way her blue eyes had little flecks of yellow or green or something from the lamplight, how her hair was sticking out from that bun in every which way but it still somehow looked so damn pretty.
"I'm done crying, but the sentiment is still the same. I've done something here that I never thought I'd ever be able to do. Or maybe I did think I could do it, but I was afraid I…wouldn't. Afraid something would hold me back, somebody…Me, even. Afraid I'd hold me back."
"That didn't happen."
"Nope." Her happy giggle, the way she shut her eyes and took a deep breath, almost shaking herself to make sure all of this was real, all combined to make him the most content he thought he'd ever been in his entire life. And then she opened her eyes and looked down at him again. "You know that text you sent me right before I got here tonight? The one you were afraid might be too much?" He nodded. "I'm about to outdo it right now. Because I'm so freaking glad the girls all decided no celebrations tonight. I'm glad we're doing it tomorrow after everything—the ceremony, the interviews, yadda yadda."
"Why?" He furrowed his brow in question.
"I think I just wanted this."
"The sex?"
She let out that beautiful, happy laugh that went mostly through her nose and he chuckled. "I mean, I never would've said no to that. But I just meant this…alone time. With you. My boyfriend." Her cheeks pinked as she said it. "Obviously my teammates, my coaches, did a lot to help me get here. But I don't think you really understand just how monumentally important you've been for me these last few weeks. I don't know if I can even figure out the words to describe how much."
"I didn't even do anything," he breathed a bit dreamily.
"See?" Sarah giggled. "You don't understand." All he could do was shrug. "You just have this way of making everything…better. Not just your optimism, your relentless faith in me, or the fact that you make me laugh…"
"Well, there's no accounting for taste—"
She pushed her finger against his lips to shut him up and chuckled. "Sh. Your support has been unending, even before I managed to get into your pants." His jaw dropped and she giggled, wrinkling her nose adorably. "And you make me feel comfortable…safe. Both on the ice and off of it. You haven't been perfect, mind you…" He made a face at that. "But that isn't what I needed. I didn't need perfection. I just needed to…" She huffed and shook her head. "I don't know. Like I said, the words aren't coming. I'm not very good at…words. I guess I'm just trying to say thank you. Part of me doesn't like the fact that I'm saying this, because I'm all about woman power and independence and shit like that, but Chuck, I'm not sure I would've gotten this far if the federation hadn't thrown us together. I'm not sure if I would've gotten gold if you hadn't cleared away all the bullshit for me, if you hadn't been here for me to…enjoy."
"Is that what you've been doing these last two weeks?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Enjoying me?"
"Mmmmhmmm," she giggled, and it was such a sweet, bubbly sound, that he couldn't help but giggle right back. She leaned down to kiss him softly, playing with the curls behind his ear.
"Glad to be of service, Sarah Walker." He sent her a cheeky grin, nose wrinkles and all.
"Seriously, Chuck. Thank you for being the best…" She bit her lip. "…something…I could ever ask for."
"Can that be how you introduce me in public after all of this?" he asked, laughing at her embarrassment as she hid her face in the crook of his neck. "This is Chuck. He's my Something."
"Shut up," she chuckled, shaking her head so that her hair tickled his chin.
"You're welcome," he said quietly after a few seconds of silence. "To be real with you, it's been my pleasure. I know this is all, uh…very new. For you, especially, maybe…um, a little less new for me considering the fact that I've had a crush on you for…" He felt himself blushing as she raised an eyebrow. "I'm just gonna move on," he rushed out, and she laughed. "My point is that even though we're very new…together…romantically…I like you, Sarah Walker. You're an incredibly likable woman." He smiled crookedly at her and she let out a quiet snort. "There was never a chance I would be anything less than supportive in all of this, whether you returned my feelings or not. I-I need you to know that, uh…for some reason." He let out a self-deprecating, shy huff. "Because you deserve this more than anyone. You deserve everything you want. And if I helped you get here, even in the smallest way, even if it was just one tiny thing I did, then I'm pretty happy with that. It's. What. You. Deserve." He made sure to emphasize that last bit for her.
Her eyes softened and she shook her head. He could see how moved she was, it was written all over her beautiful face. But instead of saying anything, she scooted a bit up his body and cupped his face, arching her back to lean down and kiss him. It was a long kiss, excruciatingly slow, and he let himself muse that Sarah Walker was easily the best damn kisser on the planet. She made him feel weak, she was so good at it.
Sarah pulled back just an inch, their noses still touching, her eyes a blazing blue fire as they met his. "You deserve everything, too," she whispered. "Don't think this is a one-way thing. Maybe it was a few months ago, because I didn't know you well enough and I was dating a jack-ass in charming's clothing. But it isn't now. Not by a long-shot. You have no idea."
Chuck felt like his chest might just burst at any moment, and lest he say something a little too intense, something that might make her pull back, something that might make things a bit awkward when they were so warm and comfortable…He leaned up on his elbows, his face close to hers, and he kissed her just as slowly as she'd just kissed him. When he pulled back, he wiggled his eyebrows.
"If you want to try and give me an idea, I'm good with that. I know you don't like using words, so…I meeean…if there are any actions you can think of…"
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, making his elbows slip from under him as he fell right back into the pillows.
And much to Chuck Bartowski's delight, Sarah Walker regaled him not with words for the next few hours, but actions that made things quite clear to him. Clear enough that he barely got a wink of sleep.
-oooo-
She knew how much of a Millennial stereotype she was being by spending her entire morning and most of her afternoon feeling incomplete without her phone in her pocket, but there it was. She'd been…well, pretty tired this morning. And she'd forgotten it.
It was illogical and silly, but she blamed Chuck a little bit for her being so tired. He'd kept her awake until nearly six this morning, on and off. And even though she'd been just as insatiable, if not more so, she still opted to blame him. For being so adorable and funny and deliciously well-equipped…and for being truly masterful in the way he chose to use said equipment.
Maybe if he wasn't so stupidly fantastic in bed, she would've gotten sleep, and she would've been awake enough to grab her phone off of her nightstand where she'd left it to charge the night before.
She smirked to herself and looked out of the shuttle window, taking in the beautiful landscape. This was better anyway, wasn't it? Looking at the stunning snow-covered mountains of PyeongChang on the way back from her medal ceremony, instead of staring down at her phone.
But God, she missed that stupid phone so much. All day, she'd missed it. She felt like she'd walked outside without her clothes on or something. And this was the day after she won a gold medal. Zondra was probably losing her mind not being able to get ahold of her. She'd already done a few quick impromptu interviews with her team after the ceremony, but she knew NBC wanted to do a more in-depth one-on-one chat that would include footage from her events before the Olympics and footage from her two events here. One of those pre-interview specials about her "life". Pfft, what do they know about my life?
She knew nothing else about it, however, because she didn't have her damn phone. Zondra was going to use that tone of hers. Sarah knew the tone well.
The "What in the hell were you doing without your phone on you, Walker?" tone. "This is the twenty-first century. Who the hell forgets their phone? Do you want money? Or am I just for decoration?"
Ugh.
But it didn't really matter in the end, did it? Because she could feel the thick, heavy talisman against her chest under the layers she was wearing. Her gold medal. It was all hers. She'd worked harder for this than she'd ever worked for anything else in her entire life. That included relationships, both familial and romantic. Her career. Everything.
She was happier than she'd ever been in her entire life. She had a gold medal in the sport that meant more to her than anything. Although, was that still true? She didn't know. And that was kind of intense, wasn't it?
"Well, I guess I have something I can check off my bucket list now," Jane said. "The top item, which is…pretty epic."
"Having great sex to Mazzy Star's 'Fade Into You'?" Lou asked from the seat next to her. Her four teammates gave her looks and she shrugged. "What? That's the top item on my bucket list."
"More than winning a gold medal?" Anna asked, her jaw gone slack.
"Winning a gold medal was never on my bucket list!" Lou chuckled. "I mean, I was just a girl who ran a sandwich shop and curled for fun on the side a month ago!"
"Fair point," Jane said, raising her eyebrows and nodding once.
Sarah just snorted at the exchange and watched as the shuttle pulled in next to their building. They all filed out and Anna spun on her heel. "I'm so fucking hungry, I could eat thirty-seven octopi whole. Seriously."
"I'll go grab food with you," Lou offered.
"Me, too. I'm starved."
"I need to go up and get my phone, since I forgot it this morning. My agent is going to tan my hide all the way from Los Angeles probably for not having it on me today. You go on ahead without me. I'll eat later," Sarah said, and she hugged them all, splitting off from them to go inside.
She was just about to get on the elevator when she heard Chuck call out her name from the lobby. She spun to face him as he scurried across the space between them, skidding to a halt next to her before putting a hand out to keep the elevator doors from shutting. "Hi," he said, a bit breathless. "You really need to call Zondra."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "I know. I forgot my phone. Is she super pissed?"
"Um, weirdly she didn't sound pissed. Just kind of worried."
"What, about me?" she asked, snorting as she stepped into the elevator.
He followed after her and pressed the button for their floor. "Maybe. I asked her what was up, you know, since we're partners and she's technically our agent." He looked a little glum. "She rebuffed me in kind of a mean way and hurt my feelings."
Sarah gave him a long look through her eyelashes, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or not. Her friend could be really short sometimes. It was just how she was. She didn't have a lot of patience, and Chuck's rambling and inherent goofiness definitely wasn't going to be charming Zondra Rizzo the way it had Sarah Walker. "Do I need to talk to her about that?" she asked tentatively.
"Nahh," he chuckled. "No, I'm mostly teasing."
"Mostly?" She smiled a little.
"She is kind of…blunt. It's just something I have to get used to. But it seemed like she wanted to talk about your interview with NBC. Sounds like they've scheduled it for a few hours from now. It's gonna be part of their primetime coverage tonight in Pacific time. In, like, twenty hours."
"Oh. Okay. Well, thanks. What were you doing down in the lobby?"
"I had a snack, chatted with some speed skaters from the Netherlands. They were really nice, by the way. Swell gents. One of them showed me a scar he's got right here on his head from when a teammate's blade came off the skate and shot up to cut him during a relay years ago." Sarah hissed at that. "Yeah, I know. I thought ski jump was terrifying. Um, but mostly, I was waiting for you. I wanted to get to you ASAP so you could call Zondra."
She smiled. "Thanks, boy toy." She played a little with the zipper of his sweatshirt, earning a look of faux offense. Grinning with her tongue between her teeth, she stepped off of the elevator first.
"If I called you 'girl toy', I'd get dragged through the coals for being a chauvinist. But sure, call me a boy toy all you want." She could hear that he was playing with her, and she saw it in the mockingly douche-y face he made at her.
"I can say it but you can't. This is just the way the world works. Deal with it."
She laughed at him as he gasped, pretending to be affronted as he opened the door to their apartment, holding it open with his arm outstretched against it. She thanked him and dashed through the living area into the bedroom, snagging her phone and unplugging it. God, Zondra had left two voicemails and a string of texts.
She pulled up the texts and read them all at once: I need you to call me ASAP. The interview is scheduled for six o'clock at the NBC headquarters, but we seriously need to talk before you do it. This is serious. Whatever you're doing can wait, Walker. Do I have to call the freaking idiot? And it finally ended with: You forgot your phone in your room? Omg I have no words.
Snorting to herself, she looked up at Chuck as he followed her into the room to grab the book he had on his bed, before ducking out again, closing the door a bit to give her privacy.
She thought about how much she appreciated him, if only for these tiny gestures of respect he gifted her with on a daily basis, and then she dialed Zondra and plopped down to sit on her bed, leaning back to lie down with a tired huff.
"Fuck, Sarah! You left your phone in your room this morning? Seriously?"
"Hello to you, too, my agent." She giggled happily.
"I'm chocking it up to you having just won a gold medal and you're, like, punch-drunk or something because of it."
"Yeah. Maybe. Are you gonna congratulate me on getting said gold medal?"
"Pfft. I knew you were going to get the gold medal, Sarah." And then she heard the smile in her friend's voice. "Congrats, kid. Seriously. I'm kinda proud. Makes my job pretty easy." She snorted. "All I have to do is answer the phone the five million times people contact me about scheduling you for interviews and magazines wanting your face all over 'em. Probably the rest of you, too, is my guess."
Sarah chuckled. "That's good to hear. And thanks. So when do I have to mosey on over to NBC for this interview of mine? Are they sending a handler again?"
There was a long pause. "See, that was what I wanted to talk to you about so urgently, Sarah. Ahem. Sar? Um. How do I explain this?"
Sarah found herself frowning, then. Zondra wasn't usually the type of person who was at a loss for words. She was very much to the point. And she was one of the smartest people she knew. And calculating. In a good way. "What is it, Z?"
"Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"
She withheld the urge to groan. "Bad first, please. Let's end it with good."
"Okay, so bad news is that your interview is going to be with Bryce."
A chill went down Sarah's spine, and then there was anger. She sprang to sit up. "What?"
"Yeah, you have to interview with Bryce. I told them I would talk to you about it before I could confirm, that's why I was trying to get ahold of you so much the last few hours," she said through her teeth.
But Sarah was still too caught up in the fact that NBC was seriously trying to stick her with Bryce for an interview. Again.
"No, no, no. Where's Big Mike?"
"They won't budge. It's Bryce or no interview."
"Then it's no interview."
"Sarah…I mean, you can cancel it, yeah. But it's going to look really really bad if you do." She could hear how frustrated and regretful her agent was. As a friend of Sarah's first and foremost, Zondra sounded like she really didn't want to be having this conversation. "I'd normally just tell you to tell them to go fuck themselves and leave without giving them their shitty interview, those fuck faces, but…"
"But what? Did you yell at them like you did the first time when you got Big Mike for Chuck and I to talk to after our bronze? Why didn't you pressure them like last time?" she asked, feeling like she might be going a bit crazy suddenly.
"I did pressure them. I pushed every button I could think of, tried all the tactics I've got in my damn toolbox, but they refused to budge this time. They want nothing less than a one-on-one between Bryce Larkin and Sarah Walker…America's Curling Exes. They're fucking trash."
"This isn't right! They can't do this!"
"They can, unfortunately. It's not like you've got a restraining order against Bryce or anything like that."
"Do I have time to get one?" she ground out through her teeth.
"Look, I argued 'til I was blue in the face. But they…They aren't going to give you any TV spots whatsoever if you don't do the interview with Bryce. Either it's him, or they cut the piece totally. And that's going to look really bad for you. Seriously. I can just hear the takes about you being unprofessional, bitter, blah blah blah."
"Well, what if I don't want to do an interview without my partner or my other teammates?"
"This is just a Sarah Walker TV spot. You're now the most successful curler in America. People want to see you, they want to hear from you. And NBC is convinced people want to see you sitting there with Bryce. Their ratings will go through the roof because melodrama sells."
"This isn't melodrama, Z. It's my fucking life. And this isn't a game! Bryce did everything he could to make sure I had the hardest road possible to get where I am, maybe not on purpose, but he still did it. And he's a pernicious piece of shit." She growled. "I didn't tell you, but he accosted me in the hallway after my first playoff. He tried to wax poetic at me again and make me think our break-up was my fault. Get under my skin. He told me he was going to propose before he noticed my gradual disinterest in him."
"That fucker said what now? The next time I see him, I'm seriously going to beat his pretty boy ass. Seriously, I'll beat the pretty out of 'im."
Sarah was too upset to even smile at the imagery of her friend kicking Bryce's ass. "He's going to try to throw curveballs in this interview, make me look foolish. What if he tries to propose again in the interview?"
"Saraaaah. He isn't going to do that. He's a shithead, but he isn't stupid. He's already been verging on unprofessional, but that would be unprofessional to the nth degree and he'd absolutely lose his spot with NBC as a commentator in the future. They want the juiciness, but they don't want ridiculous. They don't want shitty reality TV." Zondra sighed. "I think you should just do it, honestly. I know—I know it's going to suck. But you need this last interview. You need people to see your story, to fall in love with you even more. I'm trying to build you a yellow brick road to Emerald City, woman. This is a couple hundred bricks in and of itself. And you'll lose them if you don't do this."
"Fuck this."
"I know."
"Fuck this whole thing. He did it on purpose. I won a gold medal and he has to fucking poison it with this." She slammed her fist against her bed next to her. "Like, is he going to follow me for the rest of my curling career, Rizzo? I'm so serious. I'll quit the whole sport if this is what I have to look forward to. I can't have him dogging me my whole life. He broke up with me. I'm happy! And now he just keeps…grabbing onto my happiness and trying to tear it down and I'm sick of it."
Sarah swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes tightly. She didn't want to cry right now. She was twenty-seven years old, old enough to handle this without getting all caught up in emotions. Jane had told her earlier that her spine was made out of steel. She had to live up to that. She needed her spine to steel the hell up.
"Look…Kid, I know. I'm sorry. I really tried. You know you can trust me, right? I even threatened them. They just, uh, have a lot more clout than I have. You have an out, if you don't want to do the interview. But the cost will be kind of high. Not super high. You'll survive. I'll make sure of it. I've got you either way, Sar. Okay?"
"Yeah. I know, Riz. Can I…Can I have, like, half an hour? So that I can think? I'm sorry, I know you're on a timeline with NBC, but…"
"Take your time. Call me back when you decide, okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
"I got you."
When she hung up, she gently reached over to set her phone down on the nightstand.
And then she stared straight ahead.
The scream that had been building up inside of her erupted then, out of nowhere. And she just barely had enough time to grab her pillow and slam it against her face to smother it.
She tipped over onto her side and screamed again.
"Sarah!"
Chuck's hand was on her thigh then, and his other hand peeled the pillow away from her miserable face. His own features were stricken with concern. "Hey. You okay? What's wrong? What happened?" He knelt down next to the bed so that he was eye level.
"God, I can't have happiness for five God damn seconds," she said, turning her face into the bed.
"Why not? Was that Zondra? What did she say? What's going on?"
"It's Bryce."
"Did he die?"
Sarah barked out a laugh, not expecting him to say that. When he sent her a pleased smile, she reached out push her fingers through his hair. "Unfortunately, I'm not that lucky. It's worse."
She sat up and rolled her eyes, making room for him to sit next to her as she tossed the pillow back where it belonged. He plopped onto the mattress next to her. "What happened?"
"NBC isn't budging. They either want my one-on-one interview today to be with Bryce, or the whole thing is canceled. Which is—"
"What?!" Chuck jumped up to his feet and spun on his heel to face her. "You kiddin' me right now? With Bryce?"
"Yeah. And—"
"This isn't The Bachelor! It's the Olympics!"
"Yeah, I kinda said the same thing. And then I s—"
"What the fuck happened to professionalism?! This is the biggest sporting event in the world and they're trying to inject this drama into it! It's disrespectful!"
"I—"
"They're actively disrespecting you! A two-time Olympic medal winner, and one of them is freaking gold! A gold medal!"
"Chuck! Jesus Christ, can you give me a damn second to tell you?"
He immediately smacked his hands over his mouth and winced. "Sorry," he said, muffled in his fingers. He lowered his hands. "I'm sorry. I lost my shit. I'm pissed off now. I'm pissed they're doing this to you."
"It's okay. Can you sit down?"
"Yes. Yeah. Sorry." He sat. "I'm sitting. Sorry."
"It's okay." She put a hand on his leg. "What's not okay is that I have a choice but I also don't really…have a choice."
"What do you mean, you don't have a choice?"
"Zondra said that interview is going to be a big deal. It's a whole TV spot, almost half an hour…plus commercials…And that kind of exposure might keep this going. Getting paid to be a curler, having enough money that I can focus on just this, like other professional athletes, you know? Having sponsorships, getting paid to make appearances. This is what I want. I never realized I wanted it before because I didn't know it was even possible. But I know it is now and I want it."
He was quiet for a few moments, frowning. "If you didn't do the interview today, what would happen?"
"Nothing, probably," she admitted with a shrug. "Zondra thinks I'd survive just fine. She says I already have offers coming in. But she said there'd be a cost. Not terrible, but enough that I'm…" She huffed. "I think I should just bite the bullet and do it."
"I disagree."
Sarah did a double take. "What?"
"What do you have to do to get that guy to leave you alone? Like, I hacked his Apple watch to say rude things to him on live television. Is there nothing that can shame that man into hiding? What the hell is his angle?" Chuck pushed a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I…don't know, Chuck. But whatever it is, all I have to do is just sit down, answer his questions, and then I'm done. I don't have to do this again."
"Until the next time one of these channels makes you sit down with Bryce for yet another interview. And then the next time after that. And before you know it, he'll be there for every event. Interviewing you every time." He looked away from her, squirming uncomfortably on the edge of her bed.
"Chuck, is this…jealousy? Are you jealous?"
"Of course! A little." She was surprised by how quickly and honestly he answered her. "I'm only human. But it's mostly just that you've had him basically haunting you almost every step of the way. He already got to sit up there in his little booth and talk subtle shit on all of us, but especially you, on live television. And now he gets to sit in front of a camera and ask you questions and watch you squirm. It pisses me off. You shouldn't be having to do this. It's shit."
Sarah blinked. "Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have to, but…if I just sit there and get through it, that will put my name out there, my face. I mean, I don't particularly relish the social media attention or the hate tweets I've received since the break-up and everything, but I can live off of curling without any of the work I was doing before. No more renting space in dojos to teach private lessons, no more crap health insurance. This is curling for money, plus benefits."
Chuck nodded. "I get it, Sarah. But they're holding you hostage. If even Zondra Rizzo can't fix this for you, what makes you think they aren't going to take this as encouragement to do it again? Or someone else does it because they saw NBC get away with it?"
"I know, Chuck." She found herself getting frustrated with him now. "I know how bad this sucks. I'm gonna be the one in the damn hot seat. I'm gonna be the one answering the questions. I've got this, though. It sucks. I shouldn't have to do it but I need this TV spot. They're probably already advertising it back home. If I call Z and tell her I'm not doing it, it's gonna be a hit to my reputation before my career as a full-time pro curler even gets off the ground."
"I just don't think you should do it."
"Noted. But I am gonna do it."
His jaw clenched. "Look, I know this is your opportunity, you're the one who will be there, not me. So it is your decision—"
"That's right. It is."
Chuck took a deep breath, looking just as frustrated as she felt. And he looked almost frustrated…with her. "I don't think you should be sticking your neck out for him to hack at on live television. This is going to be live, with no prep whatsoever. You have no idea what he's going to ask."
"But he doesn't know what I'm going to answer. I've got this. I know my own damn mind. I'm good at interviews."
Her boyfriend rose to his feet and paced to his bed, then back again, crossing his arms at his chest, looking down at the floor. "Sarah, I know you can handle yourself—"
"Yeah, Chuck! I can! And I can make my own decisions, thank you!"
He looked hurt for a second, but then he was frustrated again. "I'm not making the decision for you. Did I tell you you're not doing it? Did I say that? Even once?"
She didn't answer, just glowering up at him.
"I didn't say that," he answered instead. "I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just saying I don't think you should. Listen, Sarah. I've heard what he's had to say about you. Not just about your curling but…what he said to me, before the opening ceremony. And I'm sure he's said worse to other people behind closed doors. Do you really trust him to ask you questions that don't veer into inappropriateness?" he asked, thrusting one arm out, palm up.
"No! Of course I don't trust him! But I trust me! I trust that I know my way around an interview! Even one with him! Chuck, I'm not some innocent naive child walking into this interview. I've known Bryce Larkin for three years and I dated him for over two and a half of them." She left out the fact that he'd hidden his true nature for all of that time, that he'd charmed her and she'd fallen for it, not paying enough attention to be able to see the conceited, greedy ego underneath. "I know what I'm getting into. I know him. If he tries shit, I'll get myself out."
Chuck let out a long breath, still not looking at her, but she could see the gears turning in his head. "This is stupid."
"Excuse me?"
"Not you!" he snapped. "You didn't let me finish! It's stupid that he's being given all of these outlets to continue to terrorize us, to terrorize you, the team. It's stupid. Yeah, maybe they have advertisers to pay, a viewership target to hit. But we're professional athletes. We're here to compete. We're here to win. That's it. This reality TV bullshit isn't what we're here for."
"Well, Chuck, if we want to be a part of this world, we have to play by their rules." She paused. "For now. At least until we've got better leverage. But for now, I can take care of myself. I'm pissed. Trust me, I'm plenty pissed. But I'm not letting him walk all over me ever again. You can count on that. He didn't leave me without my integrity."
"You're gonna do what you're gonna do, Sarah. And nothing I say is gonna change that. You've made it pretty clear."
"Have I? Then why are we still arguing about it?"
"Because I'm mad! Because I'm mad and I think this is shitty and stupid."
"Well, your being mad isn't going to change the fact that I'm doing this interview!"
"Great! Then we're agreed! You're doing the interview, and I'm gonna be mad!"
"Good!"
"Fine!"
She climbed up from the bed, angry and frustrated and genuinely upset. She didn't want to do this interview. She wanted to be here. With Chuck. Then again, he was being an ass right now, so…maybe not that. But she definitely didn't want to have to sit and do an interview with her ex. "You know, I don't want to do this…"
"Then don't!"
"It's not that simple! I explained it to you. I'm just getting kind of pissed, because you're acting like I'm super excited about this interview. Like I can't wait to sit across from my ex again, let him grill me and keep me on my toes, tell the world about my personal business. Yeah, that sounds really fun, Chuck!" she snapped, going over to her suitcase and rummaging through it with snappy movements to grab things to change into for her interview. She figured a shower was the only way to separate herself from this situation.
"I know you don't want to! That's not what this is about. I admitted I'm a little jealous. But this is more about the fact that you're letting them disrespect you like this. Zondra is letting them disrespect you."
"She gave me a choice and she's backing me up either way. Don't you bring her into this!" she snapped. "Just because she doesn't find your nonstop chatter charming. Or the fact that you go off on these nerd tangents when she's trying to talk business."
"I can't help it! I do that when I'm nervous and she makes me nervous!"
"Oh, grow up, Chuck! You're such a child sometimes!"
Oh, that did it. She felt bad now. She immediately felt terrible.
His eyes fell to his feet and she could see him deflate. She'd hurt him. How bad, she couldn't tell, because he wasn't looking at her. His brow was furrowed in hurt he was trying to disguise with anger.
Chuck raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together with a minute nod, and then he turned and walked to the bedroom door.
"Chu—"
Slam!
Sarah waited to see if she heard a second door slam, but she didn't, which meant he was staying in the apartment. She heard the TV turn on in the other room, the volume blaring. She sent Zondra a quick text telling her to set up the interview, and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pour over her, covering her face with her hands.
For what was supposed to be one of the best days of her life, this was turning out to be a pretty crummy day.
A/N: Yikes. So anyway, we're just gonna end it here. Hahahahaha just kidding. See you all again soon!
-ESC