A/N: Ooh, another standalone chapter, those are always fun :)

Chapter 28- Mon Petit Chou

Josée and Jacques couldn't believe it. Devin and Carrie were far too fortunate compared to everyone else. Also, neither ice dancer could believe how stupid the Surfers were. Sacrificing themselves because the other team found the Don box? Purposely losing the competition? It was total madness! This morning when they passed by Devin and Carrie, Josée and Jacques were sure to flash them a dirty glare. They had been lucky too many times; it irked the ice dancers. Oh, how they wished that they would finally get theirs. Did they even care about the million? At least the others seemed to be focused on the competition. Devin and Carrie were stuck dealing with their will-they-won't-they troubles.

Vomit.

But right now, Josée knew that they needed to focus up ahead. There were four teams left to destroy; two of which were "allies." At least, that's what Josée and Jacques pretended this would be. Josée learned her mistake for allying up with other teams, which included trying to team up with the Best Friends earlier.

The "Axis-of-Evil" teams were set to start at the chill zone at the same time.

"If we get to eliminate the Sisters and the Best Friends, we take it!" Jacques announced in a confessional.

"And if we get a chance to eliminate the Cadets, we make it look like an accident," added Josée, then spoke in mocking baby talk: "Oops! What just happened?"

Jacques chuckled and played along, "I don't know what happened!" Josée chuckled along with him, and soon, their chuckling turned into cackling.

Back at the Don box, Sanders read aloud the tip: "Catch the night flight to Siberia." Josée and Jacques silently read on from there that at the airport would be where they would receive their next travel tip. Directly after that, they ran to a taxi and began to discuss strategy regarding the "Axis-of-Evil" team once they were inside.

"Ryan and Stephanie have their own problems," Jacques remarked to Josée, after she had suggested that they could be trying to sabotage them, like the Cadets probably were. It was abundantly clear that no one was really in this alliance. It was a test; an illusion in which who were the weak ones going home.

"I'm just concerned," Josée said quietly. To her surprise, Jacques had put an arm around her shoulders. She blinked a few times, letting it linger there longer than usual, before she shrugged it off. "Jacques, not now..." Josée resisted the urge to apologize when he appeared hurt. "It... our fans are watching, remember?" Her face turned into a light shade of pink.

Jacques nodded, resigned. "...Oui. Je suis désolé, Josée." He couldn't help but think there was more to it. Yesterday, with the Cadets, Sanders had made the incorrect assumption that he and Josée were a couple. This wouldn't be the first time someone has done this, but this was definitely the first time someone did this in which Jacques felt a heat wave over himself when Josée had corrected her. He could feel the embarrassment off of her, and, in turn, it made him very embarrassed as well.

"Did you know MacArthur's pansexual?" Josée said, out of the blue. It was like she had been reading part of his thoughts. Jacques bore a look of confusion and rose a single eyebrow, as his partner went on: "I know. I've never heard of it. It looked like you hadn't heard of it, either. I asked her what it was... and she said that means you like everyone and that gender doesn't matter or something. Maybe it's more of a personality thing?"

Jacques shook his head. "That's nonsense."

"You think so?" Josée asked doubtfully. "She may be annoying, but I remember back in the cell in Australia she seemed really caring to Sanders... like, they are a couple."

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" Jacques countered, frowning at her.

Josée shrugged. "I mean... I think about what Tom and Jen said... and then what MacArthur said... it sort of connects, I guess? Maybe not... I don't know..."

Jacques pretended he didn't hear her.

"Well I guess that doesn't matter," Josée went on, rolling her eyes. "We're here to win, of course."

Their taxi arrived at the airport along with the Cadets' and Haters' taxis. They sprinted out of their taxis and ran onto the plane. Sanders had mentioned that if they didn't hurry, then the next flight to Siberia wouldn't leave for another eight hours. Josée smiled gleefully. If the other teams missed it, then they would be toast for sure. Thankfully, they settled into their seats as the pilot's voice boomed over the PA system.

"Welcome... uh... aboard, everyone..." Josée sulked into her seat in realization - the pilot had a stammer, therefore it would give the other teams more time. "We're going to be... um... closing the... uh... cabin doors any uh... second now for the taking off."

"Just close the doors already!" Josée roared from her seat.

They snapped shut at once.

Josée let out a sigh of relief, thinking that the other teams had missed it.

Unfortunately not.

The Best Friends and Sisters cheered and exclaimed that it was way too close.

Josée let out a groan, her fists balled up in fury. Jacques looked at her with concern as she did so. After that was done, he took out a magazine while she huffed and crossed her arms. "Now we're all on the same flight and it's all because of that pilot!"

Jacques couldn't help himself. "Why? Just because he..." he proceeded to mock the pilot, "Ah... spoke... ah..." Jacques was cut off with a swift punch to his mouth, making him squeal and groan in pain. That seemed to snap Josée out of her fury when she saw a little bit of blood coming down his nose.

"Oh fuck!" Josée suddenly exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Josée, it's okay-"

"NO IT'S NOT!" Josée shouted, rising from her seat. Jacques held his nose tightly to prevent more blood from coming out.

"Yeah, nice going skater girl."

"MacArthur, stop it," Sanders said, crossing her arms.

Josée looked back and forth between Jacques and her hands; she didn't know what to do - the logic had been zapped from her brain. All she could feel was panic. After all, she had promised she was going to do better, she had promised she wasn't going to be nasty, and she just hit him. What was she going to do, how was she going to help, what did-

"Does he need paper towels?" But then, she got help from an unlikely place. Josée looked to her side to see Stephanie - who had uttered that question - watching them. Josée didn't know what else to say, but nodded. Stephanie turned to face Ryan. "Get paper towels from the bathroom!"

Ryan gasped. "But it stinks in there!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Stephanie barked, then turned to the ice dancers with a smile. "The paper towels will be coming shortly!" Not even a minute later, Ryan returned from the bathroom and handed the paper towels to Jacques, who held his head backward with the paper towels to his nose. Stephanie frowned in alarm. "No! Lean forward. You'll choke. Pinch the tip of your nose above your nostrils. It stops the blood flow." Josée and Jacques stared at her. Stephanie scowled and crossed her arms. "DO IT!"

Josée helped Jacques adjust himself so the blood was getting onto the paper towel. Josée's eyes widened significantly; she didn't think she had done that much damage - the guilt began to well up in her... it was all over a stupid little joke. Josée turned to Stephanie. "How did you know that?"

Stephanie smirked. "I want to go to nursing school!"

"...even though she has cold aggressive hands..."

"RYAN, SHUT UP!"

"My maman used to be a nurse," Jacques said, taking the towel away from his nose.

"Did I say you could let go?" Jacques put the towel against his nose again. "You should be fine. Give it a few more minutes." That being said, Ryan and Stephanie returned to their seats on the plane. As Jacques held the towel to his nose, Josée didn't care if there were cameras around, she rubbed his arm up and down in efforts to comfort him.

"Josée, you're fine..." Jacques tried to comfort.

"No, it's not fine," Josée said firmly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; of course Jacques would be worried about her when she was the one who hit him. "I'm sorry. Really."

Jacques smiled weakly at her. "Ah, Josée, I deserved it-"

"Non!" Josée snapped at her partner. She took a breath and suddenly grabbed his free hand in two of hers - she just needed to know how sorry she was, how bad she felt, and that she... oh - in a millisecond within holding his hand, she felt her stomach flip. Perhaps from anxiety, she wasn't sure - but she knew it was there. "Never again."

Jacques eyed his hand that was in hers and let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. All of a sudden, his nose was perfectly fine.

"This is the gayest thing I've ever seen and heard in my life," MacArthur interrupted from behind them.

Sanders let out a sigh. "MacArthur, please..."

"And I've seen and heard and participated in so much gay shit..."

"MacArthur."

Josée and Jacques scowled. MacArthur would pay for that later, Josée supposed.

The remaining five teams got off the plane that landed in Serbia. Josée and Jacques hit the button of the Don box and read the travel tip. Josée cleared her throat: "We have to ice yacht to the Kola Superdeep Borehole in out swimsuits..."

"Oh yay!" Jacques cheered. Josée stared at him awaiting an explanation. "I look magnifique in my swimsuit," he said proudly. Josée barely managed to hide a smile.

"I wish we could skate across the ice," Josée said, with a sigh. Going almost a month without ice skating was painful; she supposed that it could be like an addiction, except in this case she wouldn't die from not skating across the ice, but it felt like she would. She unfortunately couldn't say that about other addictions. As far as she knew, other types of addiction can prove to be very fatal.

"Once we win, we'll go back home to skate!" Jacques said cheerfully.

This time, Josée couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Of course." Then, her eyes scanned over to the producers of the show - as well as the camera crew. Josée kept her eyes on them, but chose not to say anything.

"Taxi!" Jacques shouted, interrupting his partner's thoughts by waving his hand obnoxiously for a taxi to come over. Seconds later, one appeared and the ice dancers huddled inside and took off. On the way there, Jacques glanced over to Josée to see her lips pressed together in intense thought. "Josée?"

"I've been thinking about something I've just noticed," Josée remarked cordially in the taxi. She cleared her throat and switched to French: "Do you notice how lately the producers hadn't bothered us about anything?"

Jacques thought about it for a moment. "Oui. That's because we..." His face faltered a little; realization dawning on him. "We've been doing what they wanted us to do before."

Josée nodded, troubled. "That's right," she replied, but then she grinned, all cat-like. "But it doesn't matter, now, does it? At least... not anymore." And she wondered if it really mattered in the first place, because really, she should've known that it would've come to this. If the other teams could be nasty, why couldn't they retaliate? Despite Isaac's mentorship which consisted of him telling her to stay out of trouble, she and Jacques managed to do the opposite. What was done was done. All they could do now was win.

"We can only trust each other," Jacques said. "The other teams probably are thinking the same thing."

"Which is why we need to break it off with the cadets," added Josée. Then, she frowned. "Well, it's not like we were going to help them, anyway... and who's to say they didn't have the same idea? Let's get them before they get us."

Jacques hummed in response; neither confirming nor denying that he was on board. The taxi stopped at the changing areas, where their bathing suits would be in order to complete this challenge. After Josée had told him about cutting the cadets off, she went on to excitedly explain that this was how Russians did winter sports to prove how tough they were. Josée and Jacques knew they were going to do well and get ahead, after all, they were used to the cold. Josée eyed the Cadets suspiciously.

"The cadets are riding our coattails too much," Josée explained to the camera crew, then smirked. "I think a little push into last place will help."

Jacques couldn't help but giggle from beside her. "Oh, I love it when you talk evil!"

After that was finished, both ice dancers went to get changed. When they were done, Jacques noticed something - while he saw Josée in various costumes that... exposed her curves, this was the first time when he saw her in her swimsuit in which he lingered a little longer than usual. Upon realizing that he was staring - as she purposely pushed MacArthur and claimed that it was too slippery that made her do that - was when he snapped out of his daze.

MacArthur's tongue was stuck to a trash can.

Josée and Jacques hid their snickers.

But before they could depart to join the other teams on their own ice yacht, Josée reached down on one of the remaining ice yachts and tampered with it. "Josée, what are you doing?" Jacques asked, frowning. They could've been ahead by now.

"Shh!" Josée ordered, revealing a screw that she had taken out. "Let's just say the Cadets can't catch a brake."

"Huh? I don't get it," Jacques replied.

Josée bit back a sigh. "I think it's you who has a screw loose. Come on, let's get another boat." They moved to the remaining boat and shouted over to the Cadets, "Goodbye!" Both of them could hear Sanders calling their names, calling them 'allies' when they damn well knew that they would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

It was laughable.

"Did you hear something?" Jacques asked rhetorically.

"No I did not," Josée replied smoothly, as they rode the ice yacht. While Josée and Jacques were behind the other three teams, it was great that the Cadets had a greater chance of being eliminated this round. Josée had gotten MacArthur's tongue stuck to a trash can - an unexpected bonus, actually - while she tampered with the remaining boat that the Cadets had no choice but to use.

"Look! Up ahead are other teams!" Jacques called out. Josée squinted and saw that it was the Haters and the Best Friends, that... appeared to be in a quarrel of some sorts - well, it wasn't between Carrie and Ryan, but Devin and Stephanie. That didn't matter though, because Josée and Jacques breezed ahead. "Yes! Second place!"

And the Cadets will come in last and be eliminated. Ha! They must be in a total panic right now," Josée added, in satisfaction. Soon, they arrived by the borehole and changed into their ice dancing costumes, except this time they let Josée dress warm with leggings. Though she was used to the cold, this was a lot more comfortable. They moved over to the borehole and before they could grab the travel tip, they smiled and waved to the cameras, presumbably blowing kisses to their fans.

"Ugh, enough with that move already!" Kitty snapped.

"Yeah, we get it, you're ice dancers," Emma added.

"Newsflash, no one cares!" Kitty exclaimed, with a scowl.

Josée and Jacques froze.

...What?

Neither of them could recall ever doing anything to the Sisters.

"Excuse me?" Josée challenged. Jacques' jaw was clenched tightly. The older sister better explain herself right now, or take that back.

"No one cares that you're ice dancers," Emma repeated articulately. "You make it your entire personality when it's not even a real career."

Time stood still for a moment. Though the right thing to do would be to brush that off and continue the challenge, neither Josée and Jacques could move - they were just that furious. Not quite boiling over, but they were definitely close to getting there. Josée was especially close to getting there, because if there was one thing that triggered both her and Jacques, it was to insult the profession that they put so much blood, sweat, and tears into. Emma was playing a very, very dangerous game.

"You don't care that we're ice dancers," Josée echoed, glaring menacingly at the future lawyer. "I didn't ask you to care. But you should know better, hm? Of course you wouldn't understand; I don't expect you to. You almost threw away this competition for a boy. Jacques and I have been skating since we could walk, and have skated across the ice until our feet bled. That was for the past fourteen years, but I don't expect you to understand dedication like that!"

"And all of that..." Emma began icily, "...just to get silver at the olympics."

...

...Oh no.

Josée felt her breathing get very, very harsh - her anger was quite boiling over. Emma had played the dangerous game, and oh, how she was going to pay for it. Josée stated that she was going to make sure that Kitty would never get out of that hole. Instead of screaming at the Sister's face, Josée merely smiled at her - venomously sweet. Jacques put his hand on her shoulder and gently shook it. Emma blinked slowly for a moment; before returning the motion of bringing Kitty down the hole.

"Josée, we have to get to the next challenge." Jacques had read the travel tip and his stomach plummeted. Even though he saw Kitty and Emma completing the challenge and had an idea of what was going to happen, he still wasn't ready to face this difficulty, he could only imagine what Josée was thinking. He held up the harness for Josée. "You know you need to put this on."

Josée gasped and winced. "You know I don't do well in tight spaces."

"But the cranking requires upper body strength," Jacques countered. "You would never get me back to the top."

"But-"

"If you get claustrophobic, I promise to pull you back up." Josée resisted the urge to let her eyes that desperately wanted to water - hell, she wanted to break out into tears upon realizing that she would have to be the one to complete this challenge. It was like being back in the cell, when she panicked when images of Rachel had flooded her mind. It was like being thrown back into the closet, like her mother, who was ill. Tight spaces weren't just a phobia for her that left its usual scars, this was a lot more fresh.

It was dark, cramped, and scary...

The funny thing Josée thought of was when she insisted on taking the elevator with Jacques during their first challenge ever - that was before switching to stairs when the elevator was taking too long. She thought that because she was trying to break out of shell, she was trying to face her fears because she didn't know what would be up ahead.

Up ahead was now. Josée was frightened. "O-Okay." She looked over to see Emma again, who had met her eyes briefly upon hearing the ice dancer stammer, before returning to the challenge. Josée couldn't even deal with Emma right now, she just wanted to get this challenge over with and retrieve that stupid tennis ball. Jacques gently applied the harness to Josée, helping her in it - she figured he was just trying to be helpful, but really, it made the anticipation much worse. He put the helmet on her as well and clicked it shut so it was secured onto her head. Then, in a sudden display of affection, Jacques took Josée's hand and squeezed it, brushing his thumb against her knuckles.

Josée would've yelled at him for doing this in front of the cameras, but she was still too freaked out. She was attached to the string that would lower her down in that dark cramped hole - she desperately wanted to vomit, but kept it down. The second Jacques started to lower her down, Josée reacted in an instant: "Pull me up!"

Jacques did so.

Josée let out a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, that was silly. Go." Jacques lowered her down again, only slightly further down than before, and Josée yelled: "Back up! Back up!" He did so, very quickly. Josée stared down at the hole - that was seven miles deep. "I can do this... Go!" Jacques lowered her down again, and this time, Josée tried to focus on her breathing and closed her eyes - for a while, she managed to get through without begging Jacques to pull her up. But then Josée made the mistake of opening her eyes, and despite that she had a helmet with a light on it, it was still too dark and stuffy for her liking. And then she swore it began to close in. "Pull me back up! Back up!" At an instant, she felt herself being lifted back to the surface - but it was far too slow. Her eyes darted around desperately at the hole she was in; if Jacques didn't hurry up in time, then surely it would crush her to death - and he didn't understand that. "BACK UP!"

Then she heard a crash from outside the borehole.

Jacques gasped. "My bathing suit!"

"Jacques!" Josée wailed as she plummeted down presumably because he had let go of the lever that controlled her harness. Josée knew she should've closed her eyes; if she was going to die like this, then she at least could close her eyes and think about the positives of this situation.

Maybe she would see Rachel again.

The thought made Josée smile, picturing her friend's face clearly - short blonde hair, a winning complexion, and a warm smile, a face that was gone far too soon and was missed very, very much. But hey, Josée thought - they could meet again, since it looked like Josée was going to plummet to her death; she was going to be gone far too soon. Jacques was going to let her die; she should've expected it. It was like she said back in Nevada, there would come a time where he would get back at her.

YANK!

Josée suddenly stopped falling, and let out a relieved gasp. "I'm okay!" But then she looked around, after her near death experience, and saw she was cramped up and started to hyperventilate again: "No I'm not!" Her arms began to move frantically. "PULL ME UP!" she screeched.

She was going to die here, she was going to die here-

"Wait, wait!" Jacques called out to her, "Listen to me, mon petit chou!"

Josée stopped panicking instantaneously.

He had never, not once, called her that - and in that moment, it was oddly comforting.

"We are in second place right now, but two teams just arrived and Kitty is already on her way back up!" Upon the mention of silver and the two other teams, Josée began to hyperventilate again - there was no winning in this... there was no way. "You need to focus. Breathe! Now imagine yourself doing something you love."

...Or was there?

Josée's eyes had scanned the area and spotted a light below her. She took in Jacques' words from a few seconds ago, about Kitty being on her way back up. She assumed that light below her was Kitty, and then her mind traced back to that conversation she had - when Kitty had insulted she and Jacques' careers, as well as Emma stating they worked hard only to get silver. It only made her angry, but in return, that got her very, very determined.

Oh... this was just a great opportunity. Josée got all fuzzy at the thought. "You know what I love?"

"Dancing like the wind across the ice?"

Well, yes, but... "No..." Josée began, with a devilish grin. "Messing with other teams! Lower me down!" Jacques did so, and while Josée was a little antsy - it was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear she felt moments before.

She was getting closer and closer to Kitty. Another idea sprang to mind, and put on the fakest smile imaginable. Josée remembered when Kitty acted extra sweet to her and Jacques just so they could switch seats; the Sister would learn the hard way of what being fake would do to you. "Hey, are the balls in plain sight or are they hard to find?"

Kitty, surprisingly, was genuine. It was so rich, the poor thing. Oh well... "With the helmet lights, it's actually pretty easy to-"

SMASH!

Josée had broken Kitty's helmet light and snatched the tennis ball. "Up, Jacques, up!" she called out to her partner, who complied.

"Get back here that's not fair!" Kitty shouted after her furiously.

"Newsflash, no one cares!" Josée retorted Kitty's words back to her happily. When she was lifted back to the surface, Josée didn't even think about the cramped space - she thought about the fact that she finally got back at those Sisters. That would teach them, she thought. The satisfaction was coursing through her veins, from tampering with the Cadets ice yacht and stealing the tennis ball from the Sisters. Both of them had it coming, it was so deserved.

Josée emerged from the borehole victoriously, much to Emma's frustration. "Cheaters, you filthy cheaters!" she proclaimed.

"Mm, watch what you say next time," Jacques replied smoothly.

"I don't regret a single thing I said," Emma shot back, through clenched teeth.

"Start counting your days, lawyer girl," Josée spat harshly. Then she showed off the tennis ball to Jacques. "Easier than taking candy from a baby you hate."

"Someday, you'll get what you deserve," Emma said, grunting as she continued the challenge.

Josée merely smiled. "If you mean victory, that day is today." She and Jacques began to walk, making their way to the chill zone. Before they could approach it, they were stopped by the camera crew for an interview regarding their dirty tactic. "Aw boohoo, I'm gonna cry into my bag of one million dollars."

"You know, she was saying 'cheaters,'" Jacques added on, "but all I could hear was 'winners.'"

Once that was over, they ran to the chill zone.

Josée and Jacques leapt onto the chill zone victoriously. However, they weren't greeted by Don like usual. Jacques called out his name, but didn't get an answer. When they opened their eyes, he was nowhere to be seen. Then a few seconds later, Don appeared shirtless with a towel over his waist, smiling. "Hi guys. Bad news, for you. Because you didn't go to the bottom of the borehole to collect the ball as the tip instructed, you're getting a thirty minute penalty."

Beat.

"Seriously?" Josée snapped. "That is so unfair."

Don frowned. "Considering you're horrible people who've taken more penalties than all the other teams combined, I think you're getting off quite easy. Over there please." Josée and Jacques glared at the TV host, but relented and sat in the steam bath.

They weren't horrible people, they thought.

Right?

The camera crew was sure to get their opinion on the penalty.

"You know, I'm not worried. We'll still be in first place when the penalty is up," Jacques remarked.

"True," Josée added, smiling.

"But since when is a thirty minute steam bath a penalty?" Jacques asked rhetorically. He and Josée collectively sighed in satisfaction. After a minute, Jacques turned to Josée concernedly. "Are you okay?"

Josée couldn't help but smile - she had been doing that a lot lately - when Jacques asked that. She longed to take back what she said in Nevada about him abandoning her; because he didn't - he helped her to get over her fear in that time being and... and called her "mon petit chou." Jacques wasn't a stranger to calling her other names besides 'Josée,' but mon petit chou was entirely new. Claude had tried calling her that, back when they were dating, but she didn't like it. Yet when Jacques did it...

...well, she wanted to hear him say it again.

...not that she would tell him such a thing, of course.

"You saved me," Josée remarked happily. "Jacques, I'm so thankful. You're my..." she trailed off. It was on the tip of her tongue, the word that she wanted to use. Jacques was looking her expectantly, holding onto every single word she uttered with anticipating eyes. Josée faltered for a moment when the word came to mind - she had used that word once in her life, for one person only - and it turned out that this person wasn't what Josée thought he was, in fact, he was the opposite.

But Jacques fit that description perfectly.

He was her hero.

And that settled into her mind.

Josée was shocked for a mere second, then her smile grew faint. "You're so dear to me, you know that, right?"

Jacques' expression was unreadable. "...Oui. Of course I know that."

"No, I don't think you do..."

"What? What do you mean?"

She looked away from him. "You didn't have to save me, you know..." Josée admitted quietly. "...You could've left me there, like... like I did in Nevada with you."

"Is that what this is about?" Jacques asked. Josée wouldn't meet his eyes, but nodded. "Chouchou, I told you that I would never leave you in danger."

"But I did," Josée stated guiltily. She wished he had called her the other name, but chouchou had always worked. "I wish I could take what I said back." The silence was deafening. Josée was pretty sure that after that, Jacques would grow cold and forget all about saving her and that he would regret it, and would leave her in danger when the next opportunity came knocking.

"Chouchou, look at me," Jacques ordered gently. Josée did, meeting his eyes that were softened. Jacques hesitantly scooted closer to hold her hand, and brought it close to his lips to kiss it. Josée held her breath, shocked by the action, before turning to meet his eyes again - which were still soft and gentle, much like him. "I know you didn't mean to. It's okay." He let go of her hand. "I'm just happy you're safe." Though Josée wasn't unfamiliar with Jacques being affectionate, this was usually outside of his zone.

Josée didn't know what to make of it. She should be yelling at him, she knew that - for being so careless and vulnerable around the cameras, but she kept quiet. It's like she didn't want it to end. She had been dangling in a borehole that was too cramped and dark, and now, she wouldn't mind being held by Jacques. She wanted to feel safe. And she felt safest when she was around Jacques.

Always.

"Merci, Jacjac," Josée thanked, almost shyly. After a few minutes pass of idle chatter - followed by comfortable silence as they soaked in the steam bath - they were greeted by an unwanted presence. Don, who not too long ago called Josée and Jacques 'horrible people' walked over and stood right in front of them... with a wooden stick. "What do you want? You decided to talk to the 'horrible people' as you put it?" Josée fired at him.

"Even horrible people deserve a chance," Don remarked coolly. He held up the stick. "This is a talking stick," he began cordially. "Whoever is holding the talking stick, gets to say how they feel without being judged or interrupted. I'll go first." He cleared his throat. "I feel very annoyed and upset that you keep cheating and trying to sabotage the other teams, because it makes it hard to root for you guys."

Josée and Jacques stared in utter disbelief. They were already breaking a rule; they were judging Don very, very hard.

"Okay. Now it's your turn," Don replied, handing the stick to Josée, which the ice dancer took. Josée stared at the stick that was now in her possession. She glanced over at Don, who had an encouraging look in his eyes. "You can talk," he said. "You have the talking stick."

Josée, without breaking any eye contact with Don, gripped onto the stick...

...and snapped it in half.

Don didn't show any emotion. He took a breath, and asked: "Now how could we have handled that differently?"

"Invest in a stronger talking stick," was Josée's deadpan reply.

Jacques nodded. "Oui."

Silence.

Don stood there with his hands on his hips, with a disapproving frown.

"They started it!" Jacques shrieked at the host, "You should've been there! If you were there, you would understand!"

"They started it?" Don echoed, shaking his head. "What are you, five?"

"Were you there?" Josée snapped. "No you weren't, so don't pretend that you're all knowing. You'll probably buy whatever the hell these producers tell you. You're so brand new to the business it's honestly revolting. You reek of newness. You could always get another freaking stick, anyway."

Don glared at Josée. "So first you destroy Chilly Billy, and now you destroyed Cosmo."

"You named your stupide stick Cosmo?" Jacques asked incredulously. He scoffed and crossed his arms. "And you dare ask if I'm five?"

Don huffed at the ice dancers. "Cosmo. Was. Not. Stupid."

"Stupid stick," Josée sneered. "...held by a stupid host."

"Is that how you're going to do this?" Don questioned calmly. "Is insulting me really going to help you get far in the competition? Is making enemies out of all the other teams going to help you? Is that the hill you want to die on? Is sacrificing yourselves worth it?" Josée and Jacques blinked at the host; they were reminded of someone.

And they loathed it.

"It makes good television, doesn't it?" Josée retorted. "That's all this is to you."

"You're not wrong," Don stated honestly. "However, I am not one for others suffering for long periods of time."

"Too bad," Josée snapped. "You have to be an asshole. Let that be a lesson. I'm shocked honestly, I thought you had been doing fairly well at that."

Don shook his head. "That's not true. You can't just assume that everyone around you is out to get you, and that includes the producers-"

"Oh shut up," Jacques interrupted coldly. "It's more than enough to be concerned."

"What do you mean?" Don questioned.

"Here's some hard hitting news," Josée began icily, "Most people in the entertainment business are rotten to the core. One of my friends had a stepfather in the business. A producer, to be specific. He's in prison now, though - for crimes against children. It was about time he got arrested, too. So forgive us for being skeptical."

Don looked mildly disturbed, but covered it up quickly. "Why did you sign up for the show?"

"To prove that we're still winners," Josée answered at once. Jacques looked like he had more to add onto that, with a guilty glint in his eye - but said nothing as his partner continued, glaring at the TV host: "When your reputation is on the line, you'll do anything to win. We're getting our reputation back. And we don't care whether or not you root for us or not."

"Good," Don stated. "Because I'm not rooting for you. I don't root for people who cheat."

"That's fine," Jacques replied.

Don shook his head at the ice dancers again, and walked away. "You're just throwing it away." Josée and Jacques exchanged an unsettled look, but brushed it off. Only when their penalty was up did Don return. "Ahem. Your penalty has expired. First place, proving sometimes that cheating does pay." Josée smirked in the confessional, stating to the camera crew that this only proved that coming in first proved that they were better than everyone else. After them was the Haters, and then the Best Friends.

The Cadets and the Sisters were the only ones left.

Josée and Jacques smirked; either team going home would be wonderful. When the Sisters had arrived in fourth, they knew that the Cadets were going to be eliminated. It turns out Josée's strategy had worked out. But then Kitty had stopped giggling with her eyes wide and frantic. She went on to explain that MacArthur had carelessly dropped Sanders seven miles down and that she had broken her arm and that she was being examined by doctors. Josée and Jacques' eyes popped out; well, they didn't want Sanders to get seriously injured but... that had nothing to do with Josée. This was MacArthur's fault; for being so careless.

"Stick a sock in that team. They. Are. Done," Josée stated to the camera crew, and winked. The other teams, the Sisters, the Haters, and the Best Friends watched in total disgust. Josée blinked at the glares she and Jacques were met with. "What?"

"What was it you called them, Carrie?" Kitty said angrily. "The Cold Bitch and the Egotistical Prick?" Carrie nodded adamantly. "It's so fitting."

Jacques shrugged carelessly. "Maybe MacArthur shouldn't have been so stupid letting her fall like that."

"You dropped Josée over a fucking bathing suit."

"And you dropped Kitty over Josée taking your tennis ball," was Jacques' witty retort to Emma. "That's humiliating for you and your sister."

"At least I didn't drop her with millions of people all over the world watching," Emma snapped. "Only to get silver. Now that's humiliating. I can't say the same for you."

"At least I didn't sacrifice the competition for a boy, like you have!" Jacques exploded. Josée, who had been quiet, watched in shock as Jacques had been the one to take the reins when it came to insulting the other teams. Emma was shocked by the sudden change in topic, but didn't interrupt him. She was frozen. "I bet he doesn't even like you. You're so cold and standoffish it would be miracle that he will still be in love with you after the competition is over."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Emma snapped, though she sounded uncharacteristically nervous.

Then, Jacques smiled, venomously sweet, as he stated: "Now I understand why your ex-boyfriend broke up with you. What was his name, Jake?"

The silence was loud.

Emma's eyes widened in alarm; while Kitty put a comforting arm on her sisters' shoulders while shooting daggers at Josée and Jacques. The latter of the two's expression had changed when he realized that he may have stepped over a line, with the way Emma refused to move and was fixated on Jacques like a frightened deer. Carrie rallied up on Emma's other side that wasn't occupied by Kitty. Even Stephanie had hesitantly gone over to Emma and awkwardly tried to comfort her. Ryan was quiet.

"You guys are fucking assholes," Devin said bitterly after a while to the ice dancers, shaking his head in disappointment. "Seriously."

Josée and Jacques didn't deny it this time.

They found out that it was a non-elimination episode, that Sanders arm was fine and was in a cast, and that the Cadets would be continuing on with the competition. Needless to say, this left both ice dancers furious. The Cadets must've been filled on the drama that went on, because they had been extra glare-y than usual. MacArthur had cried the whole way ride to the hotel. Despite the fact that Jacques' fight with Emma was only an hour ago, Jacques' mind was somewhere else.

He had called Josée mon petit chou. Not only that, he kissed her hand, and... god, he kept feeling things he didn't want to feel. It was the way he stared at her when she had her swimsuit on, noticing things about her that he hadn't before. It was shameful, especially since Josée was vulnerable with Rachel's death and her mother that was likely going to die. The last thing he needed to do was think about her in that manner.

Which also begged the question, why would he think about her in that manner anyway?

Why did Josée confuse him so much?

"Jacjac, are you okay?"

And when she called him her pet nickname for him, his heart skipped a beat.

Jacques cleared his throat. "Oui... Oui, I'm fine." Josée looked at him skeptically. He let out a nervous chuckle and looked away from her. "Why? Are you okay?"

"You're always asking if I'm okay," Josée said. "I should be asking you that, too."

"What makes you think I'm not?" Jacques asked, and suddenly he wished he didn't.

"Well..." Josée started off uneasily, "You showered with your clothes on once." Jacques blinked; he didn't remember that. "And... and you were staring off into space after getting us the branded fish in Vietnam - kind of like the way you were when Bernadette passed. Other than that, you have been very jittery, almost like you were hiding something."

"...I would never keep anything from you, Josée."

"I know."

Jacques raised his eyebrows at the quick answer. "Really?" She wasn't going to fight him on this?

"Jacques, you saved my life, I..." She grabbed his hand into both of hers, smiling at him. "I can trust you with anything."

Jacques' heart skipped a beat. His confusing feelings aside, it's not like he deserved her.

She was an angel. He was a monster.