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: So this is it. This is the last chapter. I'm having a lot of emotions about this, and that's why it took me a bit longer to post this chapter. I've been clinging to this and not wanting it to end. Because, like a certain Chuck Bartowski, I am a huge sap. I'm a sappy sap. Sappy McSappersap. Thank you to the throngs of readers who stuck with this story, who supported me, who teased me about curling and how loudly anti-curling I was when February started. Look at me now, mid-May. Hahahaha! I'm a joke. But this story was NO JOKE. It became a behemoth and I'm kind of crazy about it. So anyway, thanks all of you. I think you're probably the greatest group of readers IN THE WORLD. I stand by that, damn it. Now go read the chapter! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK, and I'm not making any money from this.
She had no idea what was going on.
But there was some sort of problem between the guy and…was it his mom? It was probably his mom. And they were maybe arguing about his girlfriend? Or money?
She didn't know.
But this Korean TV show was seriously melodramatic and that alone made it entertaining enough to keep her attention. Chuck had spent the first few minutes making up his own plot while she laughed at his antics, but he'd eventually stopped, the actual drama seemingly enough for them both to watch without the ongoing commentary.
It was after midnight and she wasn't even remotely tired now that they'd taken a post-celebrations shower. She'd pulled him in with her. It was to save water. Of course. South Korea had done such a wonderful job as hosts and it was such a beautiful country and it was like they were repaying their hosts' kindness by conserving their water resources.
She smirked a little to herself and nuzzled her cheek against Chuck's shoulder. The arm he'd draped over her own shoulders squeezed her tighter to his side and she snuggled closer with a sigh.
This had been such a good night. The best night. It was snowing even harder outside, but the skies had politely waited to really open up until after they'd gotten back into their apartment.
And in spite of it being cold out there, it was warm right here. Cuddling with the man who was her partner in more ways than one, sharing a thick blanket, hot chocolate from the café downstairs almost finished and sitting on the coffee table in front of them.
Sarah pulled her legs up from where she'd propped them on the table and tucked them into her chest, bracing her heels on the edge of the couch cushion. She curled herself even further into Chuck's warmth and turned her face away from the television, instead watching as he let go of the controller he'd been holding against the couch arm and laying his free hand on her knee.
"So is that his dad or his grandpa, do you think?"
She tilted her head so that she could see what he was talking about. "I think it's his dad. He's going to bat for him against his mom."
"Ah. That's how it goes, I guess. At least that's what they say. Not that I would knooooow," he drawled with a bit of a teasing tone to hide the bitterness she heard under it.
She wondered if people ever let go of things like this. Being abandoned by parents, family. Chuck told her he'd gone to therapy. Maybe he was just coping, though. Maybe he wouldn't ever get over it. Maybe that was just how things were when someone hurts you bad enough that it changes the trajectory of your life.
Her parents didn't abandon her, per se. She where they were. Well, mostly. Her dad was out there somewhere, apparently. But she knew that even she was never going to get past everything with him, especially not now. Maybe someday she'd come face to face with him again. She'd spit in his face if that ever happened. Right in his face.
He'd sold her out for more money. Greed was nothing new with her father, but it had never occurred to Sarah that her father would harm her with his schemes. And he had this time. He'd actively harmed her.
There was no coming back from it. And she'd find a way to let him know that, too. Somehow. Maybe she could get her mom to send an extra "fuck you" with her own "fuck you" she regularly sent out into the cosmos that she hoped he heard, wherever he was.
But then again, her mom had called her three times tonight and she'd ignored it. So she was probably on Emma Walker's shit list, too. She'd listened to her messages in the bathroom at the bar. It was a lot of, "You're dating that guy Chuck, huh? I kind of figured you might eventually. I could hear it in your voice when you talked about him. A mother knooows! I need details, honey!" and, "I just want you to know that they never talked to me about all of that crap. That wasn't me. You know that, right?" and the always pleasant, "You know, when you started this whole thing, I didn't exactly think my being a quote on quote 'bad parent' would be televised to millions of people. Do you really think I was that bad?" And this was a real doozy: "Are you still mad at me for trying to send you to college, Sarah? I had only your best intentions at heart. I'm not trying to start an argument, I swear. But are you really mad? Call me so we can talk. I want to hear about this new boyfriend…" She ended it with that I'm-Trying-To-Be-My-Daughter's-Cool-Friend tone of hers that sometimes got on Sarah's nerves, and other times just made her feel kind of sad.
Maybe she should've called her mom back. It was probably only a little after eight in the morning back in Southern California.
Or…
Or she could just stay here snuggled against her boyfriend and not deal with it. That was the better option, she thought.
"There's always the authoritarian parent and the fun parent," Chuck said, jarring her out of her deep thoughts.
Sarah sniffed in amusement, unaware of the bitterness that came into her own face as she internalized his words. "I guess that's what they say."
"That's gonna be Ellie and Devon, to a lesser degree." He chuckled. "I can just see it. Ellie telling their kid to eat their peas, and Devon going, 'Hey, how 'bout I put it in a shake with bananas and ice cream! Will you eat it then?' And my sister just glaring at him across the kitchen like…" Chuck did an amazing impersonation of his sister, lowering his chin, clenching his jaw, and crossing his arms as he glared at her.
She giggled. "No, I think they'd be a good team. I mean, I can see Devon being a fun parent, for sure. But he'd be a good dad, still. And Ellie would be a good mom. And fun. It's a partnership. At least, it's supposed to be a partnership."
Chuck was quiet, but she didn't notice the way he was watching her quietly as she stared down at her knees, stretching her legs back out to prop her heels on the coffee table again.
"And when that partnership ends, it's fucked for the kid more times than not." She turned to look at her boyfriend as he furrowed his brow, intelligently opting not to say anything.
And she thought back to a few hours earlier when they'd been dancing, just the two of them, when the music had slowed again. How she'd been so swept up in all of it, the way he cradled her against his lithe body, the way he'd looked at her, the beautifully slow beat of the song, the lights dimmed low…For the first time she could remember, she'd felt safe enough to shut her eyes and let him take control of everything.
It wasn't that she was a control freak. Nor was she bossy or commanding, per se.
But she'd led a life that hadn't lent itself to her being able to trust very many people. To really trust people. On the ice? Yes. But in her life? Her personal relationships? Family had let her down almost every step of the way. She'd had too many friends let her down. Every single boyfriend she had up until that moment had betrayed her in some way, shape, or form. Either cheating on her or simply walking away from her—physically and emotionally.
Trusting other people with her whole self had never seemed like a good idea. It never felt like the safe thing to do, no matter how much she liked them.
But out on that dance floor, in that moment, even without knowing who else was around her, without thinking about everything else that had occurred that day, or what might occur tomorrow, she trusted the man whose arms she danced in.
And without even thinking about it, Sarah Walker had shut her eyes. She'd laid her cheek on his shoulder and she'd let him take her wherever he wanted. He could have danced her out the door and into the cold. Or he could've danced her right off a cliff. It didn't matter. And that wasn't really the point, was it? It wasn't just physical trust. It was emotional trust.
She'd already trusted him with more than she'd ever trusted anyone else with who hadn't explicitly lived through it with her. There would be ample opportunities for him to betray her in the future. Letting her guard down with him, letting him in, could easily lead to more hurt—worse hurt than she could even fathom. But she trusted him.
It wasn't just that he made her feel safe, or that he was a genuinely good person who so obviously cared about her.
Chuck Bartowski seemed to just…understand. He'd been through hurt of his own. He'd let her in, too, hadn't he? He'd trusted her with what happened to him and Ellie, their parents leaving them to fend for themselves…kids then teenagers having to raise themselves because of derelict parents. He understood what it was to come from a place that bristled with irresponsible adults. He'd been hurt by his parents. Even worse than she had.
She trusted him.
And maybe…maybe she could trust him just a little more.
"Can-Can I tell you something, Chuck?" She lifted her blue eyes from her lap to meet his gaze.
"Of course. Anything."
She believed him, and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, reaching up to hold his hand that hung over her shoulder and squeezing it.
"First, I have a question." He tilted his head in a nod. "You told me about all of that hacking stuff a few days ago. Piranha." She couldn't help the small smirk. He nodded again. "Was it pretty illegal? I mean, I know most of it isn't legal, but how illegal was what you did?" She paused. "Did you—Did you steal?"
He seemed resistant to answer at first, but she found it interesting that she didn't see shame or guilt. Just…resistance.
But then he huffed and nodded. "I suppose I did, yes. Information I wasn't supposed to have. I mean, I never threatened people or blackmailed or embezzled to get money or something. You know what I mean? It was never that hostage-taking type of hacking you hear about sometimes. You know, the 'give me money and I'll let you have this important data back' stuff. I'd never do that." He swallowed thickly and then whistled under his breath. "But I did some damage, mostly to people who deserved it. Crooks, greedy assholes…warmongers." He cleared his throat. "That's all I…I can say, really. Without getting too, erm, detailed. But yeah…yeah, I stole."
He sighed and hung his head, turning off the television altogether and putting the remote back down on the arm of the couch. "This must sound really terrible. You must think I'm some kind of criminal."
She was silent for a moment as he looked away from her. And then…
"What if I told you I stole, too?"
Chuck did a double-take, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline practically. But he didn't say anything, to his credit.
"I did worse things than that, even." She bit her lip and looked at the TV, even though nothing was on it. "For a while, I didn't realize what was going on, I didn't know that I was doing bad stuff. I just thought I was helping my dad. But I hit an age where I couldn't use that excuse anymore. I knew exactly what I was doing and how bad it was."
A long silence settled between them and she felt uncomfortable for a moment. But then he spoke.
"Your dad?" He paused. "Was he some kind of…I dunno…criminal?"
She snorted. "He always said you're only a criminal if you get caught. He did get caught, multiple times, so I guess the answer to that is yes, but he'd be pissed if he knew I said it. But after today he can go fuck himself so…yeah, he is a criminal." She took a deep breath. "He's a con artist, technically. Fraud, embezzlement, theft, larceny…Always has been a crook, always will be. My mom swears he conned her into falling for him, marrying him, having me." And that was always a nice thing to hear your own mother say about your existence. That she was conned into having you.
"But you said you did those things…"
"Yeah, because I did. If you can imagine me as a little girl in pigtails…I was in Girl Scouts. Well, not really. I dressed up like I was and sold cookies to unsuspecting middle class Encinitas suburban residents."
"Ah…Is it safe to say they never got any cookies?"
"Not a single one."
He raised his eyebrows. "Wow."
"I know. That's not as bad as the pay-out we got from the trucker who I rode my bike in front of so he had to swerve to avoid hitting me. I crashed my bike and hurt my arm and my dad ran out, accusing him of reckless driving. We did that one all the time, and it never failed…We got money from a lot of suckers who didn't want legal trouble that way. And I broke my arm doing it once. Felt like it was worth it at the time." She huffed and hung her head in shame.
"Shit," he breathed, but he wasn't pulling away. He didn't look upset or sickened. He was maybe a little shocked, she thought. Of course he would be.
"It was fun," she admitted. "I mean, I was too young to really get we were doing illegal stuff, conning people. I was just having fun and spending time with my dad, and he was always super proud of me." She shrugged a shoulder shyly. "He always got me rocky road ice cream after with our winnings."
He just gazed at her for a moment. "Is rocky road your favorite?"
Sarah gave him an exasperated look. "Is that all you got out of that, Chuck?"
"No," he drawled defensively. Then he brought his finger up to his temple and made the sound of a gear clicking, turning his finger. "Just locking that into my brain for later. That's all."
God, he was cute. She couldn't help but let a giggle out through her nose, shaking her head.
He squeezed her hand that was still holding his.
Her smile died down a bit. "I used to live for those days. I'd wait and wait and wait for him to come back and take me on another adventure. And he'd pull me out of school for a few days without consulting my grandma. Or the school. We'd just go on a little road trip, do our work, and come back. He'd leave me off and disappear again for a while… I know now that he'd only visit when he needed a cute blonde kid with dimples as a partner. He never came just to talk with me, or watch TV with me, or swim with me in my grandma's pool." She stared off to the side. "My grandma used to yell at him so much and I remember being mad at her, thinking she was why he'd be gone so long."
"Oh. Shit."
"Yeah." She let out a wet giggle, trying not to cry. "I figured out eventually that she was just trying to get her son to take care of his own damn kid and show some sort of responsibility, stop disappointing me all the time. You know."
"Yeah…" He rubbed her thigh comfortingly.
"I'm sorry. You didn't ask for all of this."
"I didn't. But you don't need to wait for me to ask to tell me things you feel the need to tell me. Just…for future reference."
She couldn't resist leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I'll try to remember that."
He smiled and nodded. "So your dad was a con artist—"
"Is," she corrected, making a wry face.
"Is. Right. He still picked you up to help him with cons when you got older? I-I mean, I guess what I'm asking is…um…I dunno…"
"When did I stop being his accomplice?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. That."
She dropped her hand on top of his where it rested on her thigh. "High school. When my grandma died and I went to live with mom, he tried to pick me up to do the same stuff. But my mom wouldn't let him. She threatened to call the police and tell them what he was doing. It pissed me off so bad…I remember being so mad I could've kicked a hole in the wall. I'd already been taking martial arts lessons by then, too, so I could've." Chuck's eyes went wide as saucers. "Yeah. Martial arts."
"When you flipped Tyler…"
She shrugged and smirked. "But I was probably sixteen when dad stopped showing up. He'd call sometimes to say hi, like on my birthdays and stuff. But once I left my mom's to move to the Midwest, he stopped calling me for a while. Unless he needed or wanted something, like money. Then he'd miraculously find me, try to say my mom wouldn't tell him where I was. Pfft." She rolled her eyes.
"Does he still contact you for money?"
"Yeah." She nodded.
"Oh."
Sarah studied his face, the way his eyes dropped. "Don't worry, Chuck. I haven't given money to him in years. Not since I got on the map for curling. As on the map as I was with Bryce, that is. Though, now that I've got Olympic medals, recognition, my face on TV, he's gonna try to contact me, again. Wax poetic about everything he taught me, how I'd never be a curler if he didn't introduce me to it, even though I only know about it because he literally ditched his child with a bunch of guys he barely knew for a day while he committed larceny." She let out a bitter chuckle and shook her head. "Bet you didn't realize how much baggage you were getting when you decided to date me, huh?"
She gave him a teasing look, but underneath it, she was watching him carefully, gauging his reaction, seeing if any of this changed his desire to be with her. Even the smallest bit of tentativeness in him would hurt, she knew. And she prepped herself, just in case.
But he merely gave one of his goofy, crooked, closed-mouth smiles and said, "I can be your very own baggage handler."
Then he made a face as if that was quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever heard himself say. "OR…" He chuckled. "Or we can pretend I didn't just say that thing that sounded way better in my head." She laughed lightly. "I would be a complete hypocrite if I decided after what you just told me that you're not worth the trouble. I'm trouble, too. I've got baggage, too. Come on, my parent sob story? I mean, I don't think either of my parents were or are con artists, but they were and probably still are complete jerks. I'm trouble, baby. So if you can handle this mess," he said, gesturing to himself, "you need to know I'll gladly take you exactly as you are, Sarah Walker. Conman for a dad and all."
"Even knowing what you do about how I committed crimes myself?"
"You were a kid."
"Not the whole time. I knew I was breaking the law, hurting people, when I got old enough. And I did it anyway."
"Well, shit, so did I. I'm a fuckin' hacker. Not that this is some kind of —I'm not making this into a contest, I swear. I'm just saying I'm also…trouble."
Sarah watched as that melt-worthy smile of his slowly spread over his handsome face. But she didn't melt this time. Instead, she bit her lip and shifted on the couch so that she could turn and throw a leg over him to straddle his lap. "Trouble, huh?" She gave him a sultry look, cupping his face in her hands and tilting it up so that she could gaze down into his delicious brown eyes. "Why don't you take me to bed and prove it?"
Chuck's face crumbled into a look that was half awe, half unadulterated lust. And then he was up on his feet as she yelped and giggled, clinging with her arms around his neck. The blanket dragged behind them for a bit as he made his way to the bedroom, and she yanked it away from her foot to leave it in the middle of the floor, not caring about it as she dove in to kiss him hard.
He bumped into things a few times along the way.
But they eventually fell into her bed and stripped one another down to nothing in record time, folding into each other, joining in every way they possibly could, not holding back at all for the first time in the three weeks since this all started. She gave him everything, and God, he met her all the way.
A long, long time later, as Sarah lie beside Chuck, her arm flung over his heaving chest while he attempted to catch his breath, she found herself capable of only one thought in her deliciously sated, blissful mind…
Trouble, indeed.
-oooo-
He couldn't sleep.
There was just too much to think much had happened.
Sarah Walker had been something of a closed book before this last twenty-four hours, and now he knew more about her than he thought she'd meant for him to know. Everyone knew more about her than she'd ever meant for them to know.
The way it happened had been unfairly harsh. It was wrong. It was cruel. And he was pissed about it.
He hated Bryce Larkin, and in spite of knowing almost nothing about her dad, he knew enough to hate that man, as well. He'd gladly forsake the knowledge of her past he'd gotten from their transgressions today if it meant she hadn't been as badly hurt as she'd been.
He could feel her holding a lot of her fury in, and the sadness.
And he was aware that meant she was tiptoeing around her emotions with him a bit. This was such a new relationship, so he didn't begrudge her that. He did the same thing with her when he told her about his own relationship—or lack thereof—with his M.I.A. parents. He'd brushed it off like he was over it, like it was just something that happened in the past and he'd fully moved on. The same way he'd done with the memory of an embarrassing mispronunciation of a word in front of his crush in middle school. But that wasn't the case. He'd probably never really get past it. It would always be there, a reminder of how not to be if he was ever a parent himself, or an uncle. A lesson in not depending on others, perhaps?
Chuck turned onto his side and took her in. In spite of all of these lessons he might learn from his parents, he thought this was someone he could depend on.
She was facing him, in a deep sleep, her hands tucked under the pillow she laid her head on. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, tuck her hair behind her ear, scoot closer and wrap her up in his arms. He didn't want to wake her up. She deserved a long sleep, an escape from the way her insanely impressive accomplishments had been soured by the aftermath.
He knew she trusted him. Even if she didn't want to show him the full range of her emotions at this point in their young romance. She never would've expanded on that interview's revelations with him if she didn't trust him. And then going even further tonight to tell him about her dad being a con artist, how she helped him with his cons up until she was a teenager.
How much of that man's sins did she internalize, he found himself wondering now as he gazed at her? Wasn't that what teens did best? They internalized all the shit people did to them, all the shit people said to them. He knew he had. It was still in there, in spite of all of the therapy sessions he spent trying to talk it out of it didn't sound like Sarah had ever had the privilege of therapy. Perhaps she couldn't access it the way he'd been able to once he got to college and had free mental health counselors on campus. It wasn't cheap, getting a therapist. And once you got one, there was no telling whether or not they were the right fit for your issues anyway.
How often had she felt helpless, he wondered?
Alone?
Was that experience with her dad the only example of love she'd gotten? She seemed to have problems with her mom because of the whole caught in the middle of a divorce issue. What about her grandma? Her dad might've poisoned her mind a bit against her grandma, it sounded like.
He'd played everything off pretty well, he thought, just being there for her, listening, supporting her when she told him about her dad and the role she'd played in his criminal activities when she was growing up. But it had honestly freaked him out a little, in spite of his Piranha background.
Sarah was so bluntly honest about how she'd gotten to a point where she knew what she did for her dad was wrong and she did it anyway. What kind of twisted, dysfunctional relationship did she have with her dad that she'd gotten to the point of excusing swindling people, the fraud, larceny, whatever else she helped him with? Did she do it to make him happy, impress him? The way she spoke about it, the look in her eye, told him she most likely didn't enjoy it.
Again, it wasn't something he blamed her for. It wasn't something that made him care about her less. It didn't change how he felt about her. He was sure now that nothing in the world could do that.
He'd meant what he said when he insisted he'd known he'd been breaking the law, too, when he was doing his Piranha things. How was what he did better than what she did, he wondered?
Granted, he'd never actively swindled a person who might've been innocent. He'd only forced one morally bankrupt company to also go financially bankrupt. But that was so damn deserved, especially after he'd discovered they did business with foreign adversaries and lied about it in their reports, while also treating their employees like dirt. He'd done the world a service technically.
He inwardly scoffed.
Nope. He was just as bad. If not worse.
And he needed to shake this leftover shock out of his system before Sarah woke up. He didn't want her to think he was afraid of her or something. His ex-criminal girlfriend. Or…what was it she'd told him her dad used to say? You're only a criminal if you get caught?
His ex-con artist girlfriend.
God, her life was more fucked up than he ever would've guessed. It was no wonder she wanted to keep all of that private. He felt terrible for her, for everything she'd been put through then, and everything she had to relive again today. He wanted so badly to protect her from it.
At least most of it was still her secret. People knew things were rocky with her and her mom now. People knew her beginnings had been rocky as well…at best. Perhaps assumptions would be made by the broadcast audience. But the important thing was that the really harsh stuff, like her relationship with her dad, like the business he was in, like the role she'd played in that business for so long…that was all still safe.
Only he knew about it now.
And he felt like such a jerk for being as pleased about that as he was. That he was the only person she'd ever told. That she felt safe and comfortable enough with him to tell him something that big. Something that could absolutely hurt her public image, her career. She'd given him something that could prove to be extremely dangerous for her in so many ways.
It was more trust than he deserved from her, especially when she'd only known him for such a short time, when they'd only been dating for a few weeks.
What about him had made her feel safe enough to do that?
What did he ever do to deserve it?
To deserve her?
She sighed in her sleep then and turned onto her back, the covers drifting down to her hips as she shifted under them. He couldn't resist this time, reaching over and picking the sheets and duvet up, pulling them to her shoulders gently, covering her as best he could without waking her up.
But then she let out a quiet hum and blinked her eyes open in the overcast early morning light coming through their bedroom window. She snuggled deeper into her pillow and immediately turned her head to look at him.
He winced. "I didn't mean to wake you up. Thought you'd get cold like that, though."
She sniffed in amusement and yawned, covering her mouth daintily and reaching up to stretch her arm over her head with a soft groan. "You watching me in my sleep?" her tired, deliciously crackling voice asked.
"Not all night. Just a little right now."
"It's not very fair, you know. Watching someone when they're sleeping. It's a person's ugliest time of the day because we don't know what face we're making, no makeup touch-ups, no hair brush…"
"From where I am, you're dead wrong. No time of the day is ugly if you're Sarah Walker. I was actually just admiring you right before you woke up, to be honest."
She snorted. "Right." But he could see the blush on her face. She turned over onto her side again and smiled at him, reaching over to stroke his face in a way that made the room feel that much warmer suddenly. "Did you sleep?" she asked, her brow furrowed in slight concern.
"Not really."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"Couldn't stop my brain for long enough. And I'm upset. Mad."
"Why?" The concern deepened then and she propped herself on her elbow, scooting closer and looking down at him. "Is it about what I told you? The stuff about my dad being a conman? That I helped him for a while? Because I-I—"
"No, no. Hey. Sarah, that's okay. It's not what I was expecting to hear," he admitted, putting a reassuring hand on her hip and slipping his warm fingers under the flannel button up she wore to stroke her smooth skin there. "I'll admit that. But you don't have to worry about me. Or fear that it changes this. Us. That's not it at all."
The worry dissipated and she sagged in relief, smiling a bit tentatively. "Then what?"
"I'm pissed because you won the gold medal and yesterday should've been just one big celebration, and instead that interview happened and all of the crap you've had to go through…you were forced to relive it again and again, first with Bryce live on TV, and then with me."
Her face warmed, even as she looked glum again. "Well, the interview…I walked into that not knowing what the hell I was getting myself into. That was like walking into a pitch black room and getting jumped the second the door shuts." She scoffed. "But don't add our post-interview talk—or I guess…talks, plural—into that, Chuck. Please. Yeah, I was reliving it again when I told you all of that stuff about my upbringing and my dad. But I made that decision. I relinquished that info willingly."
"Why?" She narrowed her eyes in question and he propped himself up on his elbow, too. "Not that it doesn't mean a lot to me, because it does. The fact that you trust me enough to tell me something that big…it means more to me than I can even say. Seriously." She smiled. "I just don't know why you chose me instead of…I dunno, Jane."
Sarah opened her mouth to reply, and then she shut it again, looking away, seemingly taking the time to think about it before answering. He appreciated it. He appreciated the effort she was putting into this. The sincerity and honesty she was giving him.
"Can I be fully honest with you?"
He smirked a bit, amused by her question considering what he'd just been thinking.
"I'd prefer that."
"I don't really know why I told you instead of someone else." He nodded, trying not to be disappointed by the response. "I trust you. I wouldn't have told you if I didn't trust you. I think maybe—sorry, I'm just gonna work this out as I ramble at you, kinda like what you do actually!" she said, tilting her head with a smirk.
He laughed. "Oh, thanks."
Her cheeky smile sent a flutter through him.
"I think there's just this…protective, safe bubble here. With us. I think we've built it around us, maybe unknowingly. I mean, I'm speaking for myself here, but I had no idea it was happening. It's this safe place where I can be myself, speak my mind, tell you secrets." She paused thoughtfully. "I don't have to worry about what might happen to me if I lose my footing around you, if I'm emotionally vulnerable. And I can't really say that about anyone else." She huffed. "Even Jane, I think. When it's just you and me, I feel so safe."
He let out a low whistle. "That feels sort of…big."
She blushed and looked like she maybe regretted saying that, ducking her head shyly.
"Hey, no. I'm okay with that." He chuckled, cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her to meet his gaze. "I'm okay with big, if you don't mind me saying so." She silently shook her head, her blue eyes swirling with warmth. "And I like that you feel safe with me. That's what I want. I feel safe with you, too. It's a two-way street."
"Maybe that's why this is so good," she admitted quietly. "Not many relationships in my life that are two-way streets."
"Well, no matter what else you have to worry about, I hope I can be that one thing you never have to worry about. I'll try, at least." He let out a low chuckle.
Sarah bit her lip and reached down to take his hand, the one that slipped further under her shirt as they had their heart-to-heart. Then she lowered herself onto her back and scooted close to him so that he was leaning over her. "I know you didn't get much sleep last night, but seeing as there's nothing really on the docket today…"
She very pointedly pushed his hand against the top button of her shirt, and then she moved her own hands down to start unbuttoning it from the bottom.
Chuck smiled and shook his head, leaning down to press his lips against the corner of her mouth. "Whatever you need, Warrior Queen."
He felt her chest rise and fall beneath his and then she had his face between both of her hands, looking up into his eyes steadily. "I do, Chuck. I need this."
She was showing him she still felt vulnerable, raw…she was letting him see all of it in her eyes, in her face.
Chuck didn't have the voice to give her a verbal response. So instead he just nodded, helping her unbutton her shirt and diving down to taste her, determined to spend however long she needed him, giving her whatever she desired.
-oooo-
The nerves Sarah'd felt the first time she did this were gone as she looked around at the Olympians from all different countries surrounding her, chattering, laughing, enjoying themselves while they waited for the Olympians ahead of them to file into the stadium. She didn't have curling matches to worry about, there were no expectations on her head…at least, nothing immediate.
She could just have fun, take it all in.
Laugh at the Olympians from Norway because most of them were at least buzzed if not drunk, One of the men had come over and hugged Chuck for a good two minutes, calling him a mispronunciation of Bartowsker over and over. "Bertooski! Hello, Bertooooski! Everybody, I found half of Bertooski!"
"Jack, it's Bertoosker."
"It's actually…You know what? Nevermind." Chuck's shell-shocked look was captured on Ellie's phone and she was going to have to get that picture later. She sent herself a mental note.
An arm slid around her waist and she felt lips press against her cheek. She squeaked in surprise and giggled, turning and wrapping her own arms around Chuck to hug him back. She buried her face in the Calvin Klein sweater he wore and took a deep breath, soaking the moment in.
She thought maybe she saw the flash of a camera going off in her peripheral and she turned her head to look for the source.
"Carina! What are you doing?"
"Vad? Jag kan inte engelska." The redhead shrugged and tapped at her phone with a mischievous grin on her face.
"Don't try to pretend you don't know English! What are you doing?"
"Heeeey! It's Carina!" Chuck chirped beside her, and then he reached over with his hand for a high five from the Swedish curler.
Carina took a moment to slap his hand with hers and then went back to her phone. "There. All done," she said, putting her phone away. The grin widened.
"What's up? How were your Olympics?" Chuck asked, his usual friendly self.
"No, no, no," Sarah interrupted before the Swede could respond. "No, we aren't being nice to her until I know what she's doing on her phone."
Carina spread her empty hands and made an innocent face. "I'm not even holding my phone. It's in my pocket."
"You just now put it in your pocket, you jerk!" Sarah laughed.
And then she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Oh, no…
As she pulled her phone out and looked, she saw that Chuck was doing the same with his. Ohhhh, no…
She'd been mentioned in a tweet from "CurlinaMiller89". Chuck's handle was in there, too. Sarah groaned the moment she opened it up. Chuck went so far as to read it aloud. "Hey, America! Look! Your favorite curling couple in their natural habitat: each other's embrace."
"Hashtag Bartowsker," Sarah finished for him, looking at the candid picture Carina had snapped with spy-like stealth. Chuck was kissing the side of Sarah's face and she was cuddling him tightly. Sarah couldn't stop herself from noticing just how genuinely and sincerely happy she looked in this picture Carina took. You could take this picture and stick it under "contentment" in the dictionary.
It made her heart sing, even as she rolled her eyes and slipped her phone back in her pocket. "You're trash, Carina Miller. I turned off my Twitter notifications now because this is going to start a shit show. So thanks for that."
"Oh, you're welcome! I do what I can."
"Aaaaaaand that's my new profile pic. Thanks, Carina! Oh shit, it already has two thousand likes and three hundred and fifty retweets. Um." Chuck turned wide eyes on Sarah as she laughed.
"Oh God, maybe I should turn off my notifications, too, now," Carina groaned.
Served her right.
"Chuck and Sarah! It's the Curling Couple!"
They both turned to see folks from the Great Britain team pointing and dashing over with their cameras out. "Mate, you think you might come to Scotland and curl for us?" the Scotsman with the bushy beard asked Chuck, slapping him on the shoulder.
"Uh, I'll definitely come curl with you gents, but I've gotta stick with my home country. We need more help than you do," Chuck laughed, and the Brits laughed. She was pulled into a picture with all of them and they must have taken a dozen pictures or more, some of them silly, some of them normal. Either way, it meant she and Chuck were picked out of the crowd by numerous athletes who asked for "Bartowsker selfies". She figured they were all over Olympic twitter now.
She felt Chuck quickly slide up next to her and press his lips to her ear. "Curling Couple? Really?"
Sarah winced. "I know. That made me cringe, too."
"Can we maybe steer clear of that? Becaaaaause…"
"I mean, I'd prefer it."
"It's the Curling Couple 2.0!"
The pair exchanged a flat look. It seemed like the moniker of the new "Curling Couple" wasn't something they'd be able to escape. And their fellow athletes were so nice and fun about it, that she thought maybe she could eventually come to terms with it. At least she knew this was different, this relationship with Chuck.
They finally made their way out into the stadium and the roar of the crowd was absolute madness. It was an insane party, dancing, music, lights everywhere. Athletes hopped, danced, sang, held one another up on their shoulders, jumped onto one another's backs, and took selfies. It was an utter mess of celebration going on everywhere around her, people from every country meeting en masse, but she made sure to hold tight to Chuck's hand the entire time. Even when Ellie came up beside her and hugged her. She ended up screaming, "I love this sonnnnng!" about literally every popular Korean song that was played as the athletes walked in and it gave Sarah an insane amount of joy.
She and Chuck were harangued by more well-wishers out on the floor. One of the very muscular women from the German luge team absolutely checked her boyfriend out at one point, and though she'd felt a bit of jealousy, she was mostly proud, especially when the woman made an okay sign at her and winked before they all took a selfie together.
Morgan did them the favor—if you could call it that—of pointing out that Bartowsker was one of the top U.S. trends on Twitter, right below the Olympics hashtag and the Closing Ceremonies hashtag. It was insane. Selfies with her alone, selfies with just Chuck, selfies with both of them together flanked by athletes from all over the world, all had the hashtag Bartowsker, and the fandom was exploding.
Not until she got to her seat, sitting next to Chuck on one side, and Jane on the other, did Sarah have the time to pull her phone out and snap pictures. She even took a selfie of her kissing Chuck's cheek while he laughed, putting that up on her own social media and letting their fans go crazy with it. She refused to use the hashtag, though.
God, it just felt so good not having to worry about hiding her feelings for him in public.
This wasn't their first outing together since she spilled the beans about their relationship, though.
They'd gone to the men's hockey final together yesterday once they'd gotten out of bed—very late—the U.S. Olympic Committee pulling some strings to get them tickets last minute thanks to Sarah's gold medal, no doubt. At least, that was what Chuck had said, teasing her by waxing poetic about all of the perks he'd get now that he was dating an Olympic gold medalist.
But she had been able to sit next to him, her arm overlapping over his, holding his hand. She hadn't had to worry about guarding the way she'd looked at him, how hard she'd laughed at something he said. She could flirt without having to mutter it under her breath. She had shared the drink he bought, fed him part of the treat she'd bought after the first period…and she'd fed him right from her very own fingers. Because who cared if anyone saw?
Other fans or maybe even press had taken candid photos of some of their interactions, and the tag lines they'd used were so over-the-top, so desperate for the situation to be something more than a new couple enjoying one another's company while catching a hockey game.
It had been such an amazing feeling, being completely unguarded in public. Not worrying about if someone took their interactions the wrong way. There was only one way to take the photos of her with her hand cupping the back of Chuck's neck and pressing her lips against his.
There had also been the moment she and Chuck met with their coaches, the first time they saw Beckman and Graham after Sarah's interview. God, she'd thought they'd get a stern talking to, some message from the federation that dating was prohibited or some weird crap like that. And instead, Graham smirked with a shake of his head. And Beckman had just raised an eyebrow, looked down at their hands folded together between them, and grumbled, "It's about damn time."
Apparently the federation didn't give a shit, in Beckman's words, whether they were dating or not, as long as they continued curling the way they'd curled in their Olympic events.
The performances went on through the night, Beijing putting on an amazing introduction since they would be hosting the next Winter Olympics. And she wondered if it was jumping the gun a bit to hope that she'd be there in four years again, with these same two people sitting on either side of her. She'd be thirty-one, a little older, a little wiser, hopefully…
She pushed any other thoughts she might have about Chuck, about her relationship with him, out of her head. She didn't want to freak herself out like that. Or throw unrealistic expectations on what was such a fresh romance, a really, really, really good romance, but it was still so very fresh.
She knew there were already outside forces shoving at them, and it would be a struggle to keep said outside forces from influencing them, influencing their relationship and the decisions they made. It had to just be them. God, there'd be so many deep conversations on the plane, and again when they got back to San Jose, back to their apartment that they shared. They had to. Now that it had become such a huge deal with the media and with curling fans, their fans, the American public in general… She knew this wasn't going to be the normal romance she could've hoped for. And they had to prepare for that.
The cameras panned over them as they watched the spectacle and Chuck and Jane both leaned in on either side, Jane pointing to the U.S. flag on their uniform and yelling, Chuck deciding to be a sap and kiss the side of Sarah's face again as she laughed. She didn't care who saw the footage, where it aired, if it would be made into a meme somewhere, if it was already being made into a gif right now.
She was too happy as she laid her hand on Chuck's thigh and squeezed, leaning over to put her head on his shoulder. She just took everything in, absorbed the atmosphere, watched the incredible fireworks.
And as she watched the Olympic flame slowly shrink, dimming, and finally being snuffed out altogether, everyone around her cheered, and she was hit with a strange mixture of melancholy and bliss all at once. She felt tears well up in her eyes, remembering the way these games had started.
The way she'd struggled so hard just eight weeks before the Olympics because her boyfriend had broken up with her and left the curling team, leaving her partnerless. And everything that had happened since then. These last eleven weeks had changed everything. A bronze medal, a gold medal, and a greater understanding of just how much freedom had been missing from her game…from her life, in general.
And it was so ironic that attaching herself to another man was what had made her discover that freedom.
But Chuck Bartowski wasn't just any man. He was exceptional, extraordinary…
And the more she spent time with him, the more she got to know him, the more she thought he might just be…everything.
He must have noticed the tears on her face because he draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her in. When she turned to look up at him, she gave a self-deprecating little giggle and sniffled. He wiped at her tears with his glove and then pulled his hand back and looked at it, wiggling it so that the fringe at his wrists danced.
"These are so functional. I think I've changed my mind about these stupid freakin' things."
Sarah laughed, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. The crowd erupted around them, something happening down on the stage probably, but Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski stayed in their bubble, together, sharing their own moment…the best possible way to end what turned out to be the Olympic games of a lifetime.
A/N: I'M NOT CRYING. I'M NOT CRYING. I'M NOT CRYING. (I'm really not, but my chest is a little achy.) Keep your eye on the horizon though, Thin Ice readers, because if you squint hard enough, you'll see an Epilogue chapter drifting out there in the distance. Coming closer ... closer ... closer ...
Anyway, the point is I wrote an epilogue.
Leave a review! I love 'em!
-SC