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: It's interview time. I've probably said "Hold onto your butts" before to you all, my dear readers, but I seriously mean it this time. Like, get some duct tape and wrap it around your butt area to keep it in place becaaaaaause ... Well, you'll see.
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK, and I'm not making any money from this.
He muttered a curse under his breath for what had to be the fifth time in the last hour. He hadn't even watched any of the figure skating routine that was currently happening on the television in front of him.
He didn't care.
He'd pissed his girlfriend off already and they'd only been dating for maybe two weeks or something. So that was great. He'd pissed her off enough that she'd called him a child. She'd told him to grow up.
That was fair.
And yet, it still hurt like a bitch to think of the way she'd said it. And the implications of it. That maybe all this time, things he'd thought she didn't mind—perhaps even liked about him—actually annoyed her, the way those things had annoyed other people, other women he'd been on dates with.
He knew she'd probably just snapped at him because she was upset about the interview, upset she'd been penned in by NBC, by Bryce. And because he didn't just let it go. He had no reason to believe she was actually annoyed by some of his quirks that made him seem…unusual, different from other people. She didn't really think he was childish…
At least, he didn't think so.
It still stung, though.
And he was still pissed off that Sarah was going through with it. He wasn't pissed at her. He wasn't pissed at Zondra, either. Zondra and Sarah were friends. He was positive she'd done everything she was legally allowed to do to try to get NBC to switch Bryce out with some other person like they did for the first interview.
He was just pissed Bryce was once again getting what he wanted. And now he'd be sitting across from Sarah Walker, his ex-girlfriend, on live television, free to ask her whatever the hell he wanted to ask her, put her in tight spots, enjoy watching her try to get out of them. He could just imagine Bryce Larkin lapping up the sight of Sarah squirming in discomfort. He'd never really thought he was that kind of guy when he first joined the Club and curled with him. The kind of guy who enjoyed taking control and power from a confident woman. He was pissed off, disgusted.
Chuck had no doubt whatsoever that Sarah could outthink and out-maneuver any and all of Bryce's machinations. She was brilliant. Not just on the ice, but off of it, too. The way her brain worked…She could talk circles around that asshat, Chuck had no doubt.
But he hated that she was being put in this position.
It stressed him out. He was actively stressing about it.
And admittedly, he was upset he'd have to be here watching as his girlfriend sat there talking to her ex-boyfriend, with his perfect hair and the body and the charming smile women and men talked about in the Lawker tag. He hadn't been in that horrific hashtag since the first week of the Olympics because it sent him down a spiral of bad feelings. It was a rabbit hole of comparing himself to Bryce, and he always ended up with the short stick in his own mind. It was terrible for his self-esteem and it made him question what in the hell Sarah was doing with him.
Like hell was he allowing himself to do that again. Especially not today when he was already in such a bad place after the fight he had with Sarah.
The shower had been off for a while now. And Chuck felt like he needed to go in there and apologize for pushing buttons. He needed to apologize for letting his jealousy make him stubborn and a bit of a relentless ass. She was right. She deserved the opportunities afforded to her through doing interviews like this one, even if she'd ended up with her ex as her interviewer this time. And she was right, the more she did interviews and got exposure, the more leverage she'd have.
In a way, she was doing this for him, too. Their careers were linked, they had a contract and everything.
But she was probably so pissed off at him now. He'd been an asshole. She wasn't exactly kind with that parting shot, but he couldn't blame her for it now. Even if it hurt.
Chuck needed to go make things right with her. Or at least try. It wasn't fair that she might have their fight be on her mind while sitting for that interview, a rough interview she was probably rattled by in the first place. He could at least make this right by apologizing, letting her know they were okay, so that she could go face Bryce without their fight on her mind.
So he turned off the TV and climbed out of the couch, ruffling his hair with both hands, taking a deep breath, and walking through to the bedroom. The door was still shut from when he'd slammed it earlier. That was childish. He felt like an idiot.
Chuck slowly turned the handle of the door and slowly inched it open. She was fast asleep.
But it looked as though she'd draped herself over the bed to just rest for a bit and instead conked right out. It made sense, considering when they'd actually fallen asleep this morning.
What a difference twelve hours made.
What a difference Bryce Larkin made.
Freaking asshole.
The thing that kept Chuck standing in that doorway, though, was that Sarah wasn't on her own bed. She'd chosen his bed to splay out on. And even though she was asleep, he could see in her face that was turned towards him, as peaceful as it was, that she was cold. She also had her socked feet crossed, her arms also crossed at her chest, all bundled up in an oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants, her hair loose and flowing, some of it obscuring part of her face.
…She was on his bed. And in spite of the fight they'd just had.
Granted, this didn't mean she wasn't still pissed off at him for being such a jerk. It had felt like a legitimate fight to him. It wasn't something they could just let blow over. He had apologies to make and maybe she did, too. But he wasn't going to wake her up.
However, he did go into the other room and grab the thick USA blanket draped over the back of the couch. He unfolded it as he went back into the bedroom and very carefully laid it over her, making sure it covered her all the way up to her neck.
Just as carefully, he moved her hair from her face, and then he leaned in and oh so gently pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. He shut the blinds and made the room as dark as possible considering it was still late afternoon.
He ducked out of the room and shut the door again, going back to the couch, grabbing his book, lying his long body across the cushions and reading for the next few hours.
-oooo-
Sarah let out a long breath as she set the curling iron down carefully on the counter and combed her fingers through her hair. She'd decided to keep it down, curling it, letting it cascade over her shoulders. She wore a nice, cerulean blouse under her white Team USA jacket, a pair of black jeans, and the boots that went with the opening/closing ceremony outfit. She piled her layers on over it, grabbed everything she needed, and made her way to the door of the bedroom.
An hour earlier, she'd woken up from a nap she hadn't meant to take, with the blinds in the room shut, and covered by an incredibly warm, comfortable blanket. She hadn't closed the blinds, and she definitely hadn't gotten the blanket off of the couch in the other room, which meant Chuck had come in here for whatever reason. He'd closed the blinds. He'd covered her up to make her comfortable.
At least he wasn't hurt enough by her words, or angered enough by the fact that she was doing this interview, that he would let her be cold and uncomfortable. He still liked her enough to take care of her.
Not that this was ever in question, even with their shitty and really ill-timed fight they'd had. But she needed to make amends, and she wanted to do it now, before she went over for the interview.
Ugh. The interview.
She was nervous and she wouldn't admit it to anyone.
This was going to suck.
But at least she could clear things up with Chuck and apologize. That would at least help her go into the interview knowing things were okay with them. And God, she really didn't want him to have to watch her being interviewed by her ex-boyfriend still thinking she was pissed off at him. Chuck probably wouldn't have the greatest time watching the interview if he was under the impression that she thought he was childish.
Not with the insecurities she knew he harbored already. And she'd just piled onto them with that. Her chest ached as she thought of the look on his face and how hard he'd tried to hide it.
Godddddd.
Sarah pocketed her phone, slipped her gold and bronze medals and her badge over her head, then stepped out into the main room. She could see Chuck's feet poking out over the end of the couch, propped on the arm…the tall, gangly sweetheart.
And the moment she stepped around the couch, any anger she might've still had somewhere inside of her slipped away completely. He was fast asleep, his book open on his chest, his lips set in a bit of a pout, one arm dragging on the floor, the other wedged between his body and the back of the couch.
So maybe she wouldn't fix things with him just yet. She couldn't disturb him now. He'd gotten just as much sleep as she had. Which was almost nothing at all. She gently fixed a curl away from his forehead and smiled, setting her bag down on the coffee table and going back into the bedroom to grab the blanket he'd covered her with.
Eye for an eye, and all that.
She took his book and set it aside, then carefully lifted his arm from the floor and folded it over his lower stomach. She draped the blanket over him, trying to cover his feet as well. He was almost too tall even for the blanket. But she did her best.
She grabbed her bag again and left him behind, a little bereft that she couldn't at least get out a quick apology. But as she met her handlers in the lobby and they explained she'd be going in for hair and makeup first and yadda yadda…she focused on the task at hand.
Sarah Walker put that steel back in her spine.
She just had to get through this next hour and a half and she was free.
Lord help me.
-oooo-
"Good! She's here!"
Sarah was plopped down onto the couch, the only person on the set save the two men leaning over her, one attacking her hair with a comb, and the other attacking her face with a makeup brush.
"Shine's gone! Good girl!" the man with the brush said, and then he and the hair guy scampered off the set.
"Where's Larkin? Is he fuckin' late again?" a guy in a suit holding a clipboard off to the side asked.
"No, he's not, but thanks for lookin' out for me, Mel."
And there he was.
Bryce Larkin in all his glory. He flicked his cool blue eyes over to meet hers the moment he stepped up onto the set, unbuttoning his blazer. He smiled sincerely enough, so she smiled back. She wasn't really trying to have all of these witnesses around them see her being catty towards him.
In the car on the way here, she told herself she had to take the high road. She would look the better party in this situation if she just smiled through the entire bullshit interview as though she didn't think he was a massive asshole.
Because at the end of the day, it would be Bryce Larkin who would look foolish. She refused to be the one who ended up looking foolish. She would be completely professional. He'd be on the back foot, not her. No matter what Chuck thought she was capable of, she would win this battle. She'd show him his worry was unfounded.
Then again, he was right about at least one thing.
She shouldn't be having to do this.
And she was pissed all over again, knowing she'd basically been semi-blackmailed into this bullshit situation.
Bryce sat down and let them fix his hair and take the shine off of his forehead or whatever they were doing. "Hi, Sarah," he chirped. "Feelin' pretty good with those medals around your neck, huh?"
Nothing in his tone was sarcastic or mocking, and again, his smile seemed sincere.
"Honestly, I'm feeling pretty damn good, yeah," she chuckled.
"Good. I'm happy for ya." Another smile.
The set was cleared except for them and the woman attaching a mic to the collar of her jacket. "You're all set," she said.
"Thanks."
"Two minutes, people! Two minutes 'til we go live! Everybody ready?" a woman called from somewhere behind the lights and the camera. It felt almost hot sitting up here. Maybe that was why they called it the 'hot seat'. It was literally a hot seat what with the ten million lights shining down on you.
"How's my suit look?" Bryce asked. "Is it straight?"
"Yeah." She barely looked at him. "It's fine."
"You look really nice."
"Thank you."
"This is pretty crazy, huh? Me interviewing you after you've won two Olympic medals. In another timeline, I might be sitting there next to ya with medals of my own."
Sarah didn't say anything, instead pretending to be distracted with fixing the zipper on her jacket.
"Don't worry, Sarah. I thought about our talk and, um—"
"THIRTY SECONDS!"
"Well, you're right. I'm on the up and up with this interview, though."
"Larkin, quit the chatter! Fifteen seconds!"
He cast his eyes to the side and leaned forward to whisper over the coffee table at her. "I just want you to know, I'm serious about—"
"Five, four, three…"
"We'll talk later." Bryce sat back, fixed his tie a bit, crossed his legs, and got into a pose, facing the camera. It was almost lame, and she had to bite her cheek to keep the sardonic look from her face.
"Welcome back to the studio here in PyeongChang, South Korea. We're here at the twenty-third Winter Olympic Games, and I have the great pleasure of being joined by now two-time Olympic medalist Sarah Walker." Bryce turned his body towards her then. "Sarah, it's so great to have you here with me."
"Thanks for having me."
"It's my pleasure. So what are those around your neck there?"
"Oh, nothing special." She chuckled and lifted them from where they hung against her chest, and she dangled them a bit from her fingers.
Bryce laughed. "Modesty suits you, Sarah. So you're going to leave PyeongChang as a bronze medalist and as a gold medalist, now. What exciting final matches you had in both the mixed doubles and women's team events. And now you're the most decorated Olympic curler in U.S. history. What does that mean to you?"
"Everything," she answered, deciding this wasn't quite so bad yet. "It means everything."
"Well, as we saw in the clip we showed our audience before this, you've had a pretty long journey to get here. You were first exposed to curling when you were still a fresh-faced little girl in pigtails. Quite by accident, it sounds like."
Sarah felt a chill go through her and she froze for just a moment. What?
"Um, yes. I was pretty young."
"You were babysat by a couple curler friends of your dad's, isn't that the story?"
She swallowed thickly, keeping her face as pleasant as possible. "Yes, actually. They, um, taught me how to play and everything. Just a few hours on the ice and I was hooked." She held onto her knees tightly, giving him a closed-mouth smile and shrugging. "It's your typical story."
What was in that clip, she wondered? What had they told the audience in that pre-interview sappy spiel that was supposed to be a montage of her curling? Was it not a montage of her curling after all? Zondra hadn't said anything about this.
"Weelll," he said, shrugging and tilting his head. "It's not all that typical. Growing up in the suburbs outside of Los Angeles, living with and caring for your grandma after school, taking the bus to the local curling club…" What was happening? What was this? She didn't answer and he continued. "Not much of a support system for a young wannabe pro athlete."
"Oh. No, it-it was fine. I—"
"You went pro at sixteen, didn't you?"
"Yes. I joined my first professional team and competed for the first time when I was sixteen."
"Eleven years in the sport culminates in a bronze and a gold in the Olympics. Did you ever think that would happen when you were curling in those LA clubs as a teenager? Even after you left home after high school and went to the Midwest to curl in the clubs there?"
Sarah was absolutely on the back foot. She was floored. What in the hell was he doing? She was going to kill him. Where did he get any of this? "No, I really didn't."
"Your mom sent you money for your first pair of professional curling shoes so you didn't have to rent them at the club anymore. Sent them all the way from Southern California to you across the country. Even though she was really pushing for you to go to college instead. Must've been a rub between you two over your decision not to listen to her."
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…
She had to pull herself together and just answer whatever he threw at her as best she could, play it off for the audience, then deal with this—with him—once the cameras were off.
"College wasn't really all that viable for me at that time in my life. I didn't know what I'd study, I had no idea what career I wanted, and it felt like it would be a waste of money I didn't even have." She cleared her throat. "Alternatively, I could get a job and continue to work on my curling, and be just as happy."
"How did your eventual move to the Midwest help your game?"
Sarah took a slow breath, plastering the nonchalant look on her face again, not wanting anyone to think she'd been thrown off. It was a lot of backstory she'd been careful to keep off of bio pages about her, off of her Wikipedia page. She'd never told Bryce outright about not going to college, and especially not why she hadn't gone to college. And that was in spite of the fact that her dad had offered her a lot of questionable money to pay for it. Maybe that was why she hadn't gone. And then there was the argument they'd had over it, which had resulted in her not seeing or hearing from him for two whole years of her life. He'd never been good at taking rejection, especially not from his daughter. As though his life was on the up and up in any way, shape, or form. As though he was someone she could be proud of.
God, she needed to get him out of her damn head and focus.
"Well, it's the curling capital of the United States, of course. Bouncing around the Midwest for a few years, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, back to Wisconsin again once I was pulled onto the official U.S. curling club by Coach Langston Graham who works for the federation. Those were professional facilities, with professional gear, uniforms, the whole gamut. And having coaches and teammates who'd been curling for a lot longer than I'd been curling really gave me so much more perspective. And I learned so much from them over the last seven or eight years especially."
"I remember meeting you three years ago, and wow. You were somethin' else, Sarah. I've never seen anyone with such a soul-deep understanding of the game. It's really no wonder you're sitting where you are today, in spite of the trials and tribulations, the hurdles you leapt over to get here."
In spite of the WHAT?
"Well, I really didn't have it much harder than anyone else who finds a sport and sticks with it, wanting to take it to the highest level. Any athlete looking to get to the world's biggest stage for their sport has to go through a lot, take risks, make sacrifices."
"But most people have their families with them, also making sacrifices to help them. Financial support, emotional support. Your mom bought your shoes, but other than that—"
"Not everyone does. Everyone has a different story, that's part of what the Olympics are about, aside from the actual sporting events." She put emphasis on that last bit. As in…get the hell out of my personal life… "But that isn't what curling is about," she added, squeezing her knees so tight, she was sure people could see her knuckles go white. She let go quickly and folded her hands in her lap instead. "The game is about the team. Or, in mixed doubles, the partnership."
"I get the hint," Bryce chuckled. "We'll talk about mixed doubles in a moment, because you know I have some particular interest in that." His wink made her want to leap over the table and strangle him with his own damn tie. Then again, it didn't help that he'd just given the world some of her backstory, things she never wanted Bryce to know, let alone literally everyone else—millions of people who'd watch this later back home, and those who were watching now.
"Sarah, you and your women's team just won the first gold medal in curling for the United States ever in the history of the sport being in the Winter Olympics. What do you think made it possible for this particular team?"
"Teamwork," she said easily. "Teamwork makes the dream work." She smiled a little as she thought of the look on Chuck's face the last time she'd said that to him. "I know it sounds really cheesy, and people always say it about their teammates after a win, but every single girl on this team put one hundred percent effort into this tournament. Lou, Anna, Jane…We were all there every single meeting, combining our ideas, communicating, being open to one another's game plans. And we were all there for the countless hours in the gym, pushing one another."
"You think you would've been able to do this with any other group of women?" he asked.
"No. I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe." She chuckled. "But honestly, I wouldn't want to be here with any other group of women. The way all four of us connected out there on the ice. Every last moment in every game in every End, we all seemed to be on the same exact page. I wouldn't normally be this immodest about myself, about my own performance, but as a team, I think…" She huffed and shook her head. "I don't think the curling world has ever seen a team performance in a long tournament like this that was quite as precise and dangerous through every single moment. We were so consistent all week long. We were firing on all cylinders, and that's why we each have one of these." She lifted the gold medal before setting it back against her chest.
"I love that confidence. I've always loved how confident you are about your game, though. You think that's one secret to your success?"
"Maybe. It might be. But I slip here and there. I'm not perfect by any means. But as a skip, I really couldn't ask for a better team than the three women I was blessed to curl with throughout this tournament. They really helped me rise to the occasion. It's so much easier to curl with confidence when you trust your lead, your second, your third as much as I trust Lou, Anna, and Jane."
Bryce nodded, smiling. "Wow. So it comes down to trust."
"I think so."
"Let's move on, because you won bronze with Chuck Bartowski in the mixed doubles tournament. That was last week."
"It was, yes."
"Quite an accomplishment to win an Olympic medal after only curling together for such a short time. You and Chuck, I mean. You only had a few weeks to train together before traveling to PyeongChang for the event."
"About eight weeks, yes. But we got at least one professional mixed doubles bonspiel in before we had to compete in the Olympics."
"Your result in that Mammoth bonspiel wasn't ideal, though, was it?"
"Um…it was fine." Oh.
"So what changed between then and a few weeks later here at the Olympics? Your performance in this event was an entirely different story."
"No, it-it wasn't entirely different, I don't think. But like you do with any sport, you spot where you've slipped up, you target the mistakes, you communicate, work on it, fix it, and you do better the next time. We made some adjustments."
"What kind of adjustments?" Sarah was quiet for a few seconds too long, apparently, because he continued. "I know from experience that sometimes a lost game just comes down to small mistakes, miscalculations. Making the wrong decision even just the one time can lose an entire match."
"Well, of course. I—"
"For instance, when Chuck didn't alert the officials about the loose handle on the rock." Bryce chuckled. "That must have really been frustrating for you, Sarah."
"It didn't," she said quickly. "Not at all." Nobody had to know that was a lie. "Sometimes mistakes are made, and I know that because I make them, too. But when you trust your partner, it's a lot easier to move past moments like that, regroup, get back to the game plan."
Somebody must have said something in Bryce's earpiece, then, because he smiled and turned to the camera. "We have to take a quick break, but we'll be right back with Sarah Walker, winner of two Olympic medals in curling. Stick with us."
Sarah had no idea what was going on, but she knew she had to find her footing fast, or this interview would end in her tackling Bryce Larkin on live television. She had to push away the searing red hot anger that was threatening to overtake her. She had to get through this without murdering him.
-oooo-
"He's gonna die."
Ellie turned to look at him. "Are you thinking about going over there and punching him, brother?" She winced. "I'd advise against it."
"Oh, I don't think I'm gonna have to."
She frowned a little, crossing her arms as she faced him a bit better on the couch. Chuck had meant to watch the interview alone in the privacy of his apartment, but then Ellie had shown up wanting to watch with him instead of going to the speed skating event with Devon and his cross country buddies. And now here they were, waiting for the interview to recommence after the advertisements. Honestly, he was glad he wasn't alone. Ellie being here meant he could commiserate with somebody and maybe it'd keep him from thrashing the apartment in anger.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Listen, I haven't known Sarah for that long. I mean, at least not intimately. Erm…" He shook that off and continued quickly. "But I've recognized a few cues, just small things. Like how she has this twitch in her jaw that she gets when she's mad. Like…really mad." He'd seen it earlier today, unfortunately, and instead of taking the cue and backing off, he'd kept harping. That hadn't ended well. "I don't see it often. She's a pretty level-headed, calm, tolerant person. I've seen the jaw twitch thingy at least twelve times since this interview started."
Ellie hissed out a wince and clasped her hands in front of her mouth. "Ohhhh shiiiiit. He's in deeeep trouble."
"Exactly. Bryce is going to be a pile of ash when this interview is over."
"Should you call the NBC headquarters and warn them? You know, so they don't accidentally televise his murder?"
"Oh, fuck no. He's gonna get what's coming to him and I'm supporting my girl one hundred percent, no matter what she does." He shrugged.
Ellie laughed. "Good boy."
"That said, I have no freaking clue where they got any of the stuff they talked about in that emotional blurb they ran before the interview. The weird shit about her mom and her grandma and home life. Her high school, skipping college. What the fuck was all of that?"
"It seemed…dramatic. Personal."
"Yeah, and Sarah doesn't do personal. I mean, take a look at her Wikipedia page sometime. None of that stuff is on there. And it's for a reason. She doesn't want people knowing about it. This interview is worse than I feared it would be. Not that she can't handle herself, but I didn't think they'd dig that deep. And I know she didn't, either. She has no idea what was in that blurb before this interview started."
Ellie cursed. "Why in the hell are they playing Bryce's game? Why are they letting him do this shit to her?"
"Because he's handing them ratings on a silver platter. And I'm sure they don't really know the difference with all the personal stuff. That said, I don't think he'll come back as a color commentator. This shit sells, but it gets old pretty quickly. Nobody's going to care about the Bryce Larkin and Sarah Walker drama if she comes back to compete in four years." He shrugged.
"Good. Keep the dickhead at home."
He chuckled.
But then the advertisements ended and they were back with Bryce and Sarah.
"Welcome back! I'm still here with Sarah Walker, Olympic medalist in curling. So let's get back to the mixed doubles tournament," Bryce said, turning back to Sarah. The shot switched to Sarah still sitting on the couch, and Chuck thought she looked a little more composed now. Maybe that break had given her a chance to calm herself down, settle herself, prepare for the next segment. He hoped so. He was pissed and he could only imagine how much worse her own feelings were about this.
"Trust is important to you, you said, having trust with your teammates, and I assume your that includes your mixed doubles partner. I mean, it checks out. I definitely trusted you when we were partners."
Chuck clenched his jaw at the sparkle in Bryce's eye as he leaned forward to say those words.
"He's really gross," Ellie droned in a flat voice.
"Sh!"
"Trust is really important in mixed doubles as well, definitely," Sarah answered.
"But you only knew Chuck since he randomly landed on the team a few months ago."
"Six months ago."
"Yeah, but he was the new guy. We were always in our own bubble, training, you and I. So neither of us really knew him. We hardly ever talked to him. I mean you probably barely knew he existed until I quit and Coach Beckman pushed for him to replace me as your partner." He shrugged. "Was that enough time to work up that kind of trust you like to have between yourself and a teammate?"
"It was, yes. He proved himself immediately." Bryce didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so Sarah continued, and Chuck found himself nearly sweating.
"Chuck Bartowski has a work ethic like no one else I've ever met in the sport," she said, and he felt himself start to blush as his sister let out an 'awwww' and squeezed his arm. "Once we were put on the mixed doubles team together, I could immediately see he was willing to do whatever it took to get us to a point where we could compete at the highest level possible. Extra shifts at the gym, late night meetings, all day training sessions, hours upon hours upon hours of scrimmaging and being out on the ice, communicating openly with one another. He was more than just willing, too. He sometimes had to almost drag me." She giggled.
Bryce's smile wasn't quite as sincere as it had been, and that pleased Chuck greatly.
"I notice you're taking more risks out on the ice, too. Is that due to Chuck's influence? He really has a propensity to go with the craziest shot possible. Some have called it rash, even reckless."
"Some. Ha!" Chuck snorted. "He called me reckless, the bastard."
"Sh!"
He glared a bit at Ellie and she smacked at his shoulder to get him to shut up, still staring at the TV.
"He isn't reckless. That's not recklessness you're seeing. It's bravery. And confidence in his own mind. He went to Stanford, you know. Majored in computer engineering, minored in physics, summa cum laude. It's on a fan page some woman in Sandy, Utah made for him back in his ski jump days."
Chuck laughed quietly at that. God, she was incredibly cute. He was crazy about her.
"Oh, I'd never insinuate he's reckless. Gutsy dude, that Chuck."
"Sure ya fuckin' wouldn't," Chuck drawled sarcastically with a snort.
"So yeah, it's really easy to trust someone who puts in that kind of work. I never have to worry about him not listening to me. Or just doing whatever he wants without communicating."
Bryce laughed, rocking forward. "I'll fill in what you aren't saying, Sarah. That's different from me, from the way I was when we were partners."
"No, no." Sarah laughed. "I'm not talking about you at all." Chuck took her meaning quite clearly. This isn't about you, asshole. "It's just really easy to focus on my own game, my own shots, when I know my partner is on the same page, and that he'll talk to me about it if he isn't." She paused. "Hence the trust I have in him when we're on the ice. That's why we got as far as we did. It's why I'm wearing this around my neck right now." She said, and Chuck noticed she'd held up both of her medals, not just the one she'd won with him. He wondered if she'd done that on purpose, and he felt warmth flood through him at that thought.
"Suuure, sure." Bryce winked. "So that wasn't a dig at me. We'll let that go. Weren't you worried, though, when the federation told you some amateur curler would be your new partner?" He held up his hands. "Not my words, I'm just saying, we all thought he was pretty, erm, out of place in the club."
"That's not true. Just because he hadn't been curling as long as everyone else—"
"Two years, right?"
"Right. Two years."
"So three years ago, he didn't even know what curling was," Bryce said with a slight chuckle. He was really, exceptionally good at saying things like that without sounding derisive, smiling sincerely, chuckling like he meant no harm, like he was just saying a fact. It pissed Chuck off to no end, because he knew Bryce did mean harm. Asshole.
"Probably not. But I knew the federation paired him up with me for a reason. I trust Diane. That's Diane Beckman, my other coach." He thoroughly enjoyed how she said my instead of our, since that made Bryce blink a bit as though he'd been slapped. "And she swore by him. She put a lot of faith in him. She was right."
"She was! You've got a bronze medal."
"I wouldn't have gotten it with anyone else. So I think Chuck and I both have the federation to thank for it." She smoothed her hands up and down her thighs then. "I think for me, as someone who'd gotten a bit stuck in something of a rut the last few years, both in curling and in my life, to have someone so fresh-faced and optimistic and open to learning was exactly what I needed."
"A fresh face, someone that new to professional curling, could have easily landed you in the last spot in the tournament. What, besides Coach Beckman, made you feel confident enough to put so much faith in him?"
"He had faith in me right off the bat."
"Well, of course. You've been in pro curling circles for over ten years. You're Sarah Walker."
"That never stopped other people from not having faith in me."
The way she met him square on, looking right at him… Chuck let out a "ooohh ho ho ho" and turned to meet Ellie's high five.
"God, I love her," his sister said through gritted teeth, holding her fists up in front of her face.
Bryce tried to ignore that barb. "I think it's really great, hearing how much of a connection you were able to form with Chuck on the ice. It's usually a lot harder to build that kind of brain meld. It's not an easy sport, curling."
"Oh by no means," Sarah said with a snort.
"So it's nice to hear you speaking so well of Chuck. The way you're building him up. Not that what you're saying isn't true. He's a great guy, and he proved he's a pretty good curler, too."
"One of the best. One of the fastest learners. With the smartest brain. And the biggest heart."
"Oh…" Ellie breathed. "Wow."
Chuck just widened his eyes a bit.
"That's a, uh, pretty nice way to talk about him," Bryce said with a chuckle, completely unassuming in the way he leaned forward.
"I think that's exactly the way I should be talking about my boyfriend."
What?
…What?
Wait…
What?
Had he just heard that right? Chuck gaped at the television, his jaw practically falling into his lap, his eyes wide as saucers.
Bryce cleared his throat. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm not sure if I heard correctly. Or if you, ahem, accidentally said—Ahem, did you say…He's your whatnow?"
"My boyfriend," she said, slowly and clearly, not even blinking, lifting her chin with a certain amount of pride and smugness both.
"As…in…?"
"Chuck and I are dating. Exclusively."
"Um, Chuck?" Ellie interrupted the awkward silence between Sarah and Bryce as Chuck continued staring at the television. He didn't respond, just continuing to gawk. "Was that the plan?"
"Nope."
"Oh." There was a pause. "OH. Well…Wow. Okay."
"Yeah…" was all he seemed capable of.
Bryce Larkin finally seemed to get a hold of himself. "Partners and dating. Well, who knew the Olympics could be such a matchmaker?"
He was totally at a loss, Chuck could see. His face was pale, his voice weak, his shoulders a bit slumped. He was completely thrown off balance. She'd single-handedly destroyed his brain. Had she hurt him, too? Was he hurt? God, Chuck hoped he was hurt.
But…
She'd also just announced to the world that they were dating.
Holy shit…
"This was never anything that I planned, and it certainly wasn't something I would've foreseen a few years ago, even. Going to the Olympics for curling and coming away from it with two medals, one of them gold, and a boyfriend—also gold. Quite the pull," she said, giggling, as though she hadn't just told her ex-boyfriend on live television that she was currently dating someone else, and not just someone else, but the man who'd replaced him as her mixed doubles partner.
"It-It is. I, uh, just to make sure…" Bryce squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "You aren't pulling our legs out here about this, are you? The whole Bartowsker hashtag would implode if you were joking about this."
"Oh, Bartowsker is imploding already I'm sure. But rest assured, this isn't a joke," Sarah said steadily, chin still held high. "We're really, really dating."
Ellie giggled. "Get it, girl."
"Dear God," Chuck breathed.
Sarah smiled wistfully, casting her eyes off to the side. "And it's been such an adventure, being at the Olympics, and being here with him as my partner and as my boyfriend. It's been such a whirlwind for me, these Olympic games. But he sort of steadied things, helped me stay focused. It wasn't the distraction I think both of us were a little afraid it might be when it started."
"Well, that's…" Bryce smoothed his hands down the front of his blazer, then buttoned it, unbuttoning it again, swallowing hard. "What a great first Olympics you've had, Sarah Walker. Really want to congratulate you again on your medals, and thank you for sitting down with me—"
A loud banging on the door startled both of the Bartowski's, who exchanged looks before Chuck climbed up to his feet. He swayed a little, his legs feeling weak and tingly all at once. He shook himself and cleared his throat. "This is nuts, El."
"Uh…yeah. She really just put it all out there," his sister said as the interview ended and commercials started up.
"I don't know—"
The banging sounded again and Chuck growled in annoyance, leaping over the back of the couch instead of just walking around it, heading straight for the door and ripping it open.
Morgan stood there, agape. "Oh. Hi, Morgan."
The Flying Beard's gaze dropped to look behind Chuck, eyeing Ellie on the couch, and then he shoved his way in. He took in Ellie, then spun to take in Chuck, whipping back to Ellie again.
Chuck was relatively sure all three of them looked incredibly shell-shocked.
"YOU'VE BEEN DATING SARAH AND YOU DIDN'T TELL US?" Morgan bellowed then as Chuck shut the door behind him.
The taller man winced visibly and slowly turned on his heel to face the halfpipe gold medalist. "Um…I…uh…"
Morgan thrusted his hand out towards Ellie then gestured between himself and her. "You're dating the hottest, nicest woman on the planet with the coolest brain, and neither of us knew about it?"
Chuck's eyes popped and he looked at his sister.
"Y-Yeah!" she exclaimed, climbing to her feet and putting her hands on her hips. "Chuck, what the fuck?! You didn't tell us?!"
He gave her the most confused look, not knowing what in the hell she was playing at. She widened her eyes pointedly and it all clicked. Smaaaart.
"I'm really sorry. Sorry to both of you. Since, yep, I kept this from you and from you," he said, pointing to Morgan first, then to Ellie. "I definitely didn't tell either of you before this moment. And I apologize."
"Seriously, my dude! You should be sorry, keeping something this amazing, something this life-changing and monumental from the two most important people in your life! Your sister and your basically-brother! Dude, Chuck! That's so cold!" his best friend chided, shaking his head in disappointment.
Then both men turned towards Ellie, Morgan with an expectant look on his face.
She jumped a bit, wide eyed. "…Yeah! Yeeeeeah! That's cold, Chuck!"
With Morgan's back to him still, Chuck sent his sister the biggest eye roll. He loved her to death, but God, she should stick to saving lives and skiing because she was a terrible actress. She must've realized the same thing then, though, because she grabbed her phone and badge and hurried towards them.
"I'm really disappointed in you, not telling me yourself!" she said to Chuck, shaking her finger in his face. "We'll discuss it later, but um…I'm gonna go. I should tell Devon about this development and I'll have you know he is going to feel VERY BETRAYED!" she bellowed.
Chuck gave her a subtle flat look that clearly said she was going overboard now."Bye, Ellie!" Morgan chirped, and as soon as she slammed the door behind her, he spun on the curler and grabbed him by his shirtfront in both fists. "Okay, I'm not mad anymore. TELL ME EVERYTHING!"
-oooo-
"And we're clear."
Sarah stood up immediately and yanked the microphone off of her collar.
"Hey, that's expensive equip—"
"Oh, yeah? Put it on my bill," she snapped, slapping it into the sound technician's hand. She immediately stepped down from the stage and pushed past the cameras.
"Um, Miss Walker, y-you still have a wire…" She clenched her jaw and turned around, allowing the woman behind her to carefully disconnect whatever the hell it was. "Um, thanks," the timid technician mumbled.
"Are we done here? Or do you people want to know more about my shitty unsupportive parents or why I didn't go to college?" Sarah found herself asking the group around her. "No? Don't need me anymore?" she continued when no one answered.
She grumbled a pissed off "This was bullshit" as she turned on her heel and walked out.
But as she walked through the newsroom and pushed into the hallway, nearly knocking over an intern in the process, she felt a strong hand grab her around her wrist.
This time she was too angry, too disgusted, and too humiliated to do anything but let Bryce walk her around the corner and tuck them both away in a meeting room where they'd be alone.
"Are you serious? Treating the crew that way?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" She felt the rage rising inside of her. "I've never been so humiliated on this grand of a scale. Millions of people are going to know my entire past! I didn't fucking sign up for this! Did you tell my agent this was going to happen? Because I have a potential lawsuit on my hands, you piece of shit, and don't think I won't sue."
"That'd be terrible for your reputation, Sarah."
"I don't give a damn about my reputation, you fucking prick. Where the hell did you get that information? I've never told anyone any of that. I know I never told you because I never trusted you like that. None of my coaches even knew in spite of being the ones who recruited me."
"Hold on. More importantly… Funny Guy? That's gotta be a joke. You just said that—on national television, no less—to get back at me. It can't be real. You're screwing with me."
"Bryce Larkin, I was done screwing with you months before you even broke up with me. You're shit in the sack. I kind of had a feeling that was the case at the time, but I didn't have a whole lot else to go off of. I can say it with certainty now, though."
Bryce made a grossed out face. "Oh, come on. Is that necessary? Are you in high school, Sarah?"
She ignored that. "I asked you a question and I want an answer. Where'd you get that information?"
"I asked you a question, too. Listen, I'm not a fan of Chuck but I don't like the idea of him being used by a succubus just so she can make her ex jealous. That's so fucked up, Sarah. He's annoying but he seems like a nice guy, probably." Sarah could only shake her head at him. "Oh. My. God. Your unending ego is too much for me to handle right now. I don't have to explain my love life to you. I'm not wasting my breath on that, not with you."
"So you aren't dating."
"We are dating. We're super dating. I don't care if you believe me or not. I asked you where you got that information about my life. What exactly was in that intro blurb you assholes played before the interview?"
"You can watch it for yourself online. I'm sure it's there by now. I bet one of your Bartowsker fans has it up on Twitter already."
"Answer the question or I'll strangle you with your shitty tie."
"Does Chuck—" He stopped when she grabbed his tie and yanked on it. "That's Roberto Cavalli, let it go!" he squeaked. When she didn't, he held his hands up. "It was your dad," he rushed out. Sarah felt the color drain from her face. "He was putting out feelers, my assistant picked it up, shot something his way, and he called me up. We had a long phone chat about a lot of stuff and I know pleeeenty about you now, Sarah Walker," he finished with a teasing let go of his tie, swallowing thickly to keep from crying. These weren't tears of sadness, though. She was angry. She felt the white hot fury go through her and there were spots in her vision. There was so much anger. So much anger and betrayal. She forced herself to focus on the anger, because it was easier for her to deal with at the moment.
She took a deep breath and started walking towards the door.
"Hey. What the hell? You're just gonna lea—"
He didn't get the rest of it out, though. Because the moment she heard his smarmy voice again, she snapped. It was like a trigger went off in her fist, and in one graceful move, she spun and slammed said fist right into his jaw.
Bryce hit the ground hard, immediately clutching his face in both hands and rolling into something of a ball.
"You're lucky I held myself back," she said in the calmest voice she could muster.
He groaned, still holding his face in pain. "That was you holding back? Shit! What the fuck, Sar—" His eyes widened and he froze when she lunged for him. She didn't touch him, though, just planting her feet on either side of his torso, towering over him as she leaned down menacingly and snarled in his face.
"I told you my dad was off-limits. You're lucky I didn't kill you with one punch, you stupid mother fucker. You talked to my dad about my backstory to put it in your report on me. That really sucked, Bryce. It sucked. You suck. My dad sucks. How much did you pay him for that info?"
He didn't seem like he wanted to answer that question. And she wondered if he still liked her enough, even just a little bit, to want to protect her from that info. Maybe he knew it would hurt her. Maybe it was just a smidgeon of decency that he had in him.
"Fine. Don't tell me. Your silence says enough anyway. Fuck you, Bryce Larkin. I hope this is the end of your career as a commentator. I really do."
She walked away, then.
"Sarah, wait. Please wait. I've just given you the perfect publicity to—""I didn't ask for this kind of publicity. I didn't ask for you to use my rocky past to make me some kind of dramatic success story. And I told you to leave my dad out of it. You didn't. You actively did exactly what I told you not to do. So fuck you. I hope I never see you again."
If only she were that lucky.
"Look, I'm sorry. I just want to do good things for you. I didn't know you were with Chuck. That sucks, because I—I guess I'm still—" She shot him the deadliest look she could muster and he paled, making that bruise already starting on his jaw stick out even more. "I doesn't matter. But I guess I just…hope he makes you happy."
She didn't owe him a response to that.
Sarah Walker slammed the door on the way out.
A/N: So as not to ruin the mood, I'll just say thank you for reading and please review.
-SC