A/N: We are now at part lll of our little story; which is after RR. It took a while to get here (considering I was finishing up Part III) but this will be the final part of Le Desir. Not the final chapter, as we have many more to go.

This is pretty Jacques centric - as in, a lot of this chapter is in his POV...

Chapter 32- Beauty in Lies

Josée and Jacques told Isaac that they would arrive in Quebec the next morning, which was today. The flight from New York to Montreal was relatively a short time, well - at least in comparison to the other flights they had been on. Jacques alerted his parents that they would arrive at the airport in ninety minutes. Josée and Jacques didn't talk, unless it came to things regarding traveling and directions. It was like the aftermath of their loss at the olympics, except this time, Josée and Jacques weren't mad at each other.

They weren't prepared for the frenzy of reporters waiting for them at the airport. Josée and Jacques had been lucky that no one during the competition had recognized them and had swarmed them - but in Montreal, it was a different story. Josée and Jacques weakly smiled at them, but neither of them could bring themselves to answer questions that were shouted at them, it's not like they legally could, anyway - because most of the questions surrounded where they had been for a little over a month.

"Jacques! Josée!" a voice called over the crowd. Josée and Jacques followed the direction of that voice, of which both ice dancers recognized to belong to Gabrielle. Josée and Jacques brushed past the cameras and reporters and eventually made it to meet with Gabrielle, Jacques' parents, and Isaac. It was instantaneous. Gabrielle hugged Jacques tightly, then moved onto Josée, and everyone else did the same for the ice dancers. "I'm very sorry."

"About?" There were many things they could be sorry about.

Gabrielle took a breath and turned to Josée. "The competition, and... and your..." she trailed off. "...also Rachel."

Josée closed her eyes tightly; maybe if she closed her eyes this would all go away. But Rachel's voice in her head would tell her that wasn't near logical. Josée opened her eyes, and turned to Fleur, Hector, and Isaac. "I want to see her."

"Your maman?" Jacques questioned from beside her.

Josée shook her head roughly; no, she wasn't ready for that. "Non. I want to see Rachel. I need to know... is she buried somewhere? How is her aunt taking it?" She ignored that odd looks exchanged between Jacques' family and Isaac - they just didn't understand, Josée couldn't see her mother right now. Because although she was composed, she knew very well that if she saw her that she would break down hysterically like she did last night, and Josée didn't have the energy for that.

Fleur shot her a worried look, but nodded. "Of course, sweetheart. We can take you there right away." The drive to the cemetery gave Josée the creeps for many reasons - this time with several other reasons added onto it. It was likely that she would have to watch her mother get buried here, and the thought brought tears to her eyes. She felt Jacques' hand squeeze hers from the backseat of Hector's car, which hardly helped her feel better - but she appreciated the sentiment.

They didn't come alone. Josée and Jacques' hearts sank when they saw Rachel's aunt in front her niece's grave, probably to visit her again. Josée remembered those days in which Rachel would go on and on about her aunt, that she was essentially her mother figure that was all the things she wished her own mother was. The older woman must've sensed their presence, because she turned around and smiled sadly at the ice dancers and returned to staring at the grave. "I'm sorry for your loss... your mother..."

That was another thing about Rachel's aunt; she was very selfless. "Miriam, I'm sorry for yours," Josée responded sympathetically. "Rachel was brilliant, she... she adored you."

Miriam hummed a little bit in thought. "Rachel had a quick brain, but an addictive personality, which is an awful combination, and something that she tried to shake off from my sister - she detested that part of herself, but eventually she fell into it." She turned around, revealing red irritated eyes, and sighed. "It started getting very bad a bit after you left. She left home and got together with a boyfriend. I didn't know him at all, but Rachel was an adult, so I let her do what she wanted. He, unfortunately, fed her addiction."

"Oh..." Josée was speechless, and Jacques stood by her awkwardly - neither were sure what to say.

"I figured you wanted to know how it all started," Miriam said, then sighed once more. "The last thing she wanted was to end up like her mother did."

"Why do you think that happened?" Josée couldn't help but ask.

Miriam thought for a moment. "Curiosity," was her answer. "Rachel was too curious for her own good. It came with the quick brain and addictive personality, and I feel as though she wanted to have some... connection with her mother of some sort, even if she talked about how much she despised her." Miriam cleared her throat and opted to change the topic. "But anyway. How are you doing? Are you planning on having a funeral for your mother?"

Everyone stared at Josée, while she looked absolutely bewildered. "I... I hadn't really thought about it much, yet," Josée admitted sheepishly. She turned to Jacques' parents helplessly - biting her lower lip. "I would want her to have a proper funeral, but... but I don't know how."

"We can help you," Fleur said. Hector looked a little hesitant, but his wife shot him a glare and he backed off. "As soon as your visit with Rachel is over." Josée nodded thankfully.

Miriam walked over to Josée and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry, darling... I truly am." Josée nodded, leaning into the older woman's touch for a few seconds, than let go. Miriam let out a small grin. "I usually visit Rachel everyday at around this time, you're... you're welcome to join me, if you'd like. I could use the company. But now, I'll give you a moment with her." She began to walk away, and called out: "Au revoir!" And soon she was out of sight. Josée kneeled down in front of Rachel's grave and hugged it.

Jacques blinked confusedly. "Um..." Gabrielle stomped on his foot, letting out an inaudible, "Ow!"

After a minute, Josée stood up and brushed her pants to get rid of excess dirt. "Okay. Let's go to your house... we need to start planning right away."

Beat.

"That's it?" Jacques asked doubtfully.

Josée rolled her eyes. "Rachel was always too weak for the business, Jacques. You can't be so surprised," she added coldly, then stormed back to the car. She couldn't stand another second of staring at that grave; not only was it one of her dearest friends, but it was a reminder of what to prepare for - in regards to her mother.

The clock ticking was the only sound that was audible in the Clemont home. Five people - Josée, Jacques, Fleur, Hector, and Gabrielle - sat around in the living room quietly. Jacques glanced over at his partner worriedly; her eyes had been scanning over her mother's will for at least ten minutes. She had read it aloud earlier, that her mother had planned to leave everything to her only daughter, 'even though she betrayed me' - which nearly made Josée burst into guilty sobs - and also on account of the fact that there weren't any other relatives that were as close to her.

Still, Josée had her mother's old phonebook, which did include the names of people that she came into contact with over the years, which included coaches, people at work, and some of her distant relatives, and one of them - to her surprise - happened to be her biological father. But in her mother's will, she demanded that he wasn't to be notified of her death - it wasn't explicit whether or not she thought the same about her other relatives. There were other things that needed to be done, such as canceling life insurance and to get an official death certificate - it gave Josée the chills; it made it all the more real - but Jacques' parents insisted that they would be with her every step of the process.

Finally, after ten minutes of complete silence, Josée's eyes broke away from the will. "Maman hated being social with people," she remarked quietly, almost in disdain. Gabrielle, Fleur, Hector, and Jacques stared at her. She took a breath and proceeded to explain, scoffing: "She only insisted on it to climb the social ladder. I could only imagine that she'd be rolling her eyes from wherever she is to see people making small talk among her corpse."

"So you don't want for her to have a funeral?" Gabrielle asked, frowning.

"I didn't say that," Josée answered swiftly.

"In case you do," Fleur said sweetly to Josée. "My relatives would surely love to come and support you; you've met them, oui?" Josée tried to hide her cringe while Hector didn't bother hiding his, and rolled his eyes. Fleur caught this and frowned in disapproval. "Hector-"

"We don't need your nutty religious relatives who still flash me dirty looks after many years," Hector interrupted. "And I hate caffeine free tea." Jacques and Gabrielle barely hid their snickers while Josée grew annoyed.

Fleur scowled. "Hector-"

"I'm waiting for the call that they're all finally moving to the amazing Salt Lake City they always squawk about-"

"Whatever, they can come to the funeral," Josée stated coldly to Fleur.

"I mean, I personally think-"

"It doesn't matter what you personally think," Josée snapped at Jacques' sister. Gabrielle looked like she wanted to retort something, but closed her mouth and held her hands up in defeat. Jacques knew that if they weren't under these stressful circumstances, Gabrielle would've lashed out. Josée let out a sigh and rubbed her head. "She needs one." She rubbed her forehead in distress. "So many people to call, and then there's the house I have to worry about, and then-"

"Josée, we said we were going to help you," Jacques cut in gently. "You don't have to do everything yourself-"

"You know what?" Josée began sharply, glaring at her partner: "I should be doing this myself. I'm her daughter, after all... and I at least owe her this." She crossed her arms angrily, her nose flared. "Besides, what do you all know about my mother? All you've done is insult her or chase her with a lamp!" Fleur looked down at her hands sheepishly as Josée continued, her fists clenched as she stood up abruptly, "Now if you excuse me... I'd like to go back to my mother's house."

Jacques stood up as well with the intention of following her, "Josée, wait."

"Don't," Josée said, rounding on him. Then, she let out a sigh. "Please, just leave me alone..." Then she exited Jacques' home, slamming the door behind her - this made nearly everyone - with the exception of Hector - flinch.

Gabrielle stood up. "I'll go make sure that she doesn't throw herself off a cliff." And shortly left.

Jacques' father rose from his chair and went to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of beer in his hand.

Fleur rolled her eyes. "We're making funeral arrangements. Now is not the time to drink."

"It's the funeral for Louise, it is the perfect time to drink," Hector replied plainly, sitting back down. Jacques couldn't help but silently agree. "We're only doing this for Josée. I don't think that her mother deserves a funeral." He took a long sip and cleared his throat. "She was a mean old bitch."

Fleur frowned. "Hector, it's not nice to be nasty to the dead."

"Nice? To her?" Hector asked incredulously, then scoffed: "The woman was awful. I'm sure she's looking up at - down, looking down at us..." Hector corrected, when he saw his wife's disapproving glare. "...and shaking her head at all these arrangements and critiquing everything and calling her daughter a failure. Believe me, I've known since that kid was six that her mother was terrible. Her mother had slapped her a few times when I had to pick Jacques up from practice. I snapped at her to stop, but she barked that that's how you discipline a kid, and that her parents did the same thing to her and that it was fine." He shook his head in disgust. "Exact same thing my father said to me."

It grew uncomfortably silent as Hector casually took a sip of his drink after that revelation.

Jacques blinked, and asked, after a while: "Grandpa hit you?"

Hector raised an eyebrow. "Oui. All the time." A pause, then: "Why?"

"...You never mentioned that," Jacques pointed out, frowning.

His father only shrugged. "That's how it was. His parents hit them, and their parents hit them. You never met my father because he died when I was... around Josée's age, I believe. Your mother and I were at our second year of university."

"How did you handle it?" Jacques asked. "I mean I ask so... so Josée could heal from losing her maman so early."

Hector's expression darkened considerably. "I pissed on his grave, but I don't believe Josée would do that, obviously." Jacques' eyebrows shot up while Fleur let out a sigh. It was quiet for a few seconds; it was almost like... almost like he was leaving something out. "But it was normal for me to get hit. Your grandmother wasn't much of a saint either. Sometimes she joined in, especially after he died - but she used a lot of nasty words, oh she loved that."

"So it just continued on and on," Jacques said. It wasn't a question. Meanwhile, Fleur was watching the interaction between father and son very closely.

"Yes. Why is this so important?" Hector said.

Jacques tried to ignore the glare from his father and pressed, "Papa, you never hit us." Then, Jacques watched as Hector's glare softened a bit and averted his eyes in favor of his drink. He stared at it a few seconds; it was like he was hiding something from him, that he almost appeared guilty. "You stopped it."

"Eh..." Hector waved it off. "I... couldn't do it. I didn't have it in me, I guess," he admitted quietly. "I didn't..." he hesitated for a moment, "...want to be like him."

And he took another drink to fill the silence.

"Josée thinks that she'll follow in her mother's footsteps, I just know she does," Jacques remarked, fiddling with his fingers. "Especially because Rachel had died the same way her own mother did, and her mother's mother was awful too, like a cycle, so... so how do you get her to think otherwise?"

"There's just one problem," Hector began, "Josée thinks that her mother is the best thing to walk the earth. However..." he paused thoughtfully, "She's a lot more sensitive than I was... she's tough, but... it's up to her to break that cycle. She has to understand that her mother was shit."

And that was going to be a difficult task, Jacques thought. The front door creaked open. Jacques and his parents turned to see that Gabrielle had returned, with a disgruntled looking Josée by her side. The female ice dancer stormed inside and took her seat back. All eyes went to Gabrielle, expecting an explanation.

"I convinced her to come back."

Josée glared disapprovingly at Jacques' sister. "Only because I left my mother's phonebook here and..." she bit her lower lip. "I need people to help me pass the word of my mother's passing." She scanned the table for the will and snatched it, reading it over again. "It's just my father she doesn't want notified, got it?" They all nodded. That being said, she got back to writing stuff down regarding her mother's funeral. Despite this, everyone's concerned eyes were still on her.

Josée noticed after several seconds and looked back up again. "What?" Her eyes specifically met Jacques'. "What is it?"

Jacques blinked quickly and shook his head. "Nothing, nothing..." he muttered. This didn't go unnoticed by his family.

Josée refused to have an open casket funeral for her mother. Jacques knew that it would invoke a strong reaction from her - she had barely held it together when she had seen her mother - and wanted to remain composed. This was a cause for concern, because Jacques had expected for Josée to had burst into tears. Part of him thought that maybe she had let out all of her tears when they had gotten the news over the phone. She was too unpredictable emotionally, it was hard to tell what she would do.

"So what happens now?" Josée whispered to Jacques. They wore black and were the first ones there, along with Jacques' family.

"We wait," Jacques whispered back.

People began to file in. Jacques didn't think there would a lot of people that would show up, but this was still smaller than his sister's funeral. Some of the people offering their condolences to Josée were co-workers that she was familiar with, but there were a good amount of relatives that Josée hadn't met until today. It was so surreal. Jacques couldn't imagine meeting relatives just because someone in your immediate family had passed, but Josée had spoken about how her mother cut ties with them long ago.

Only ten minutes had passed since people started to come in, and Jacques could already tell that Josée wasn't handling it as well. Jacques glanced over to his partner and winced at how she was handling this. It was the little things like the way she would reach into her immediate pocket to try and find bun-bun to self-soothe except it wasn't there anymore, or when she frequently touched her ponytail, or when she wrung her hands as a way to distract herself. Jacques knew that this was a sign of a potential tantrum coming up, not that he blamed her of course.

...But part of Jacques still felt guilty, naturally - because he still was leaving some crucial information out regarding her mother's death. He was hoping that one of his parents would tell her instead, but his father said that it was better that she wouldn't learn the truth - the last thing Josée would want to see was her mother as a quitter. This didn't really make sense to Jacques; because wouldn't it make sense to tell Josée that her mother quit so Josée could learn it's okay to take a break and let yourself relax. Then again, he unfortunately understood that Josée loved her mother.

It was love that her mother didn't deserve at all.

She never realized how lucky she was to have an amazing, selfless daughter.

"My maman is dead," Josée muttered to him, after a while, and then fell silent again. Jacques knew he should've filled it, but instead stared blankly at her. Luckily, he didn't have to reply, as Josée spoke again, her voice full of confusion that ached with misery: "I couldn't... I couldn't even properly hear her voice for one last time..."

Jacques continued to stare, speechless.

"She's always hated these things," Josée went on, almost shamefully: "...goodbyes and all of that, because... it only made you weaker. What was the point of dragging it out when you should just move on with your life? I feel like I shouldn't have done this funeral, because she would've hated it." Her eyes softened and watered. "But I wanted it. For her. There was this word that Rachel used when it came to things like death, she called it closure, and that's what I wanted."

"And there's nothing wrong with that, mon petit chou..." Jacques interrupted softly. His heart stopped when he realized that he had called her that same pet name from Russia, and hoped that she wouldn't comment on it, because that would be a complicated situation.

Josée's eyes widened briefly - like she had fully noticed the change - but resorted back to her softened look, not addressing it. "Non, there is something wrong with it. Because the closure isn't for the person who died, but for the people that knew the person who died. I'm just selfish-"

"You're not selfish," Jacques interrupted again. He reminded her of this every now and then - yes, there were times when Josée could be a little shallow, but she wasn't selfish. He refused to believe it and refused to have her say things like that about herself. "Like I've said, I've known you too long to come to that conclusion."

Something unidentifiable flickered in Josée's eyes, then cast them down to the floor. "But this is different. She probably didn't want distant relatives around, she-"

"Josée, the only thing that she stated was that she didn't want your father to be notified," Jacques reminded gently.

Josée tucked the strand of her that had escaped from her ponytail. "It's all so strange, to be honest," she started confusedly, "That she had a will set and ready, almost like she was sure that she was going to die." She met Jacques' eyes this time. "What do you think?"

Shit.

"I think..." Jacques began carefully, "I think that you should be prepared for anything to happen." Josée stared at him as he continued, "Your maman was very precise and punctual, and... and she talked about how you have to prepare for the worst, so... that's probably what she did?" He wasn't exactly wrong; but he hoped she would buy it.

Josée stared at him for a little while longer, then blinked away. "I guess that makes sense."

After the viewing was the burial, and that's when Jacques got really concerned for his partner. He remembered how he reacted when his sister was being buried - he was calm and collected throughout the viewing up until that moment when it was actually time to part ways. But he was shocked to see that Josèe was eerily calm – even when her mother's casket was being lowered into the ground. Jacques stared in disbelief, then he felt a light tug at his hand. To his side, he felt Josèe slip her smaller hand into his, and squeezed it tighter than usual. Jacques would've winced from the pain, but he knew to prioritize who was in the worst pain at that moment.

Jacques said his goodbyes, but watching his partner stare down at the casket — he knew that she wasn't ready. She couldn't let go, at least not completely. She could try to appear as calm as she could, but that wouldn't mask the fear in her eyes, or the potential tantrum that she could have directly after.

"Josèe," Fleur asked quietly from the passenger seat. The burial had finished and Hector was driving them home. "How are you doing?" Josèe was in the backseat with her arms crossed, scowling. That gave away her answer.

"Josèe?"

"I'm fine," Josèe snapped at Jacques. "I just want to get to my maman's house and clean out more things."

"I don't think you should do it alone–"

"Jacques, just leave it!" Josèe interrupted through gritted teeth. She closed her eyes briefly before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. You can come. Just... be careful."

Jacques quieted and nodded.

They arrived at Josèe's mother's house. Jacques felt a chill go down his spine; he could only imagine what Josèe was feeling. She took several breaths, and entered the house – Jacques shortly followed. Some of the things were packed already, she and Jacques' family made sure to go through some of her mother's belongings to decide what was to stay and what was going to be donated. Josèe claimed she wanted to double check things. In reality, Jacques knew that she was going to look around for one final time.

Jacques shuddered. Normally his partner was the superstitious one out of them, but he swore that even he could feel her mother's presence – even when the woman was dead she could make you feel uneasy. For Josèe, she was probably felt anything but settled.

Case and point, the female ice dancer's breathing became shallow once their eyes set on the closet. Without a second thought, Jacques was at Josèe's side with his hand on her shoulder. "Josèe, you have to breathe–" He stopped and watched as Josèe shrugged his hand off her shoulder, stalked over to one of the boxes and pulled out of a variety of items. In a fit of rage, she chucked each and every one of them at that closet door and screamed. "Josèe, stop!"

"SHE RAISED ME ALL BY HERSELF!"

CRASH!

A knickknack shattered into pieces against the door.

"DID EVERYTHING..." SMASH! "...SHE COULD SO I DIDN'T END UP BEING A..." SMASH! "...FAILURE!"

Jacques was rendered speechless as Josèe continued to throw things, with furious tears in her eyes.

"...BUT I FAILED HER!" Josèe went on, "SHE WORKED SO HARD... PREPARED ME FOR EVERYTHING! BUT NOTHING COULD PREPARE ME FOR THIS!" She had run out of items to throw at the door, so resorted to throwing multiple punches instead. That's when Jacques stepped in, blocking the closet door and holding her wrists gently so she couldn't hurt herself – her knuckles already took some damage. Josèe eventually cried into Jacques' chest, and he was quick to put his arms around her. "Nothing could prepare me for her death... absolutely nothing," she whispered in a hoarse voice. She shook her head roughly and mumbled, "I hate her."

For years Jacques had waited for Josèe to finally say that about her mother. He looked forward to it if that time would actually come. Now that it did – watching his best friend he took no pleasure from the fact.

"Tu n'es pas un raté," Jacques mumbled softly into her hair like the way he did in New York. "Je vous adresse mes condoléances... Je suis de tout cœur avec vous, Josèe."

"Don't lie to me," Josèe murmured, defeated.

Don't lie to me.

Jacques felt his stomach churn. "I would never lie to you, chouchou..." he said, lying through his teeth.

It was early October, and all the episodes of the Ridonculous Race had aired to the public. Josée and Jacques refused to watch as an act of protest, claiming that what the world would see was fake, scripted, and a monstrosity done by those scummy producers. That wasn't the whole truth, however. The reality was that the ice dancers weren't ready to face the music, as in, take responsibility for some of the things they willingly did on their own. This ranged from many, many things - some that could be seen as criminal.

This, unfortunately, got the attention of not only fans of theirs, but the ISU as well. Josée and Jacques suspected that Leo and Liv had ratted to them, ensuring that Josée and Jacques wouldn't be able to compete in other competitions, or that they would get banned from competing ever again - despite them being young, Josée and Jacques would still be seen as a threat for the 2014 olympics, and it wouldn't be below Leo and Liv to try to get them barred from competing because of things they did on a game show.

It was almost ironic - funny, even.

However it didn't work, at least, not completely. The ISU addressed the incidents on the show, and subjected Josée and Jacques to being banned for competing for the current season - and potentially the season after. This was very, very concerning - because if the ISU were to follow through with Josée and Jacques being banned for the season after as well, it was unlikely they would be allowed to skate at the 2014 olympics. To qualify for the olympics in figure skating, the ISU would look at the World Championship score from the year prior - so if Josée and Jacques were barred, then they were doomed.

It was a nightmare; they would have to wait and see.

Jacques was at their apartment; having a war in his mind on whether or not he should pick up those nasty cigarettes again - he almost nearly did roughly a month ago at Josée's mother's funeral, but that was because funerals brought back memories of his eldest sister's funeral, selfish as that was. Josée was at the rink getting some much needed practice that she claimed she needed by herself. This concerned him, because, he hoped that this wasn't her way of giving up entirely on their dreams - which sounded ridiculously since she was practicing, but the point was, she was practicing alone.

That thought scared him enough to make his way to the nearest store to buy a pack.

"Jacques?"

His foot was already in the store, but turned around to come face-to-face with someone he least expected. "Michelle?" Michelle went to high school with him and was in his year. Directly after high school, they had been accepted into the same ballet academy and occasionally chatted now and then - much to Josée's annoyance because she and Michelle didn't get along very well in dance class. But Jacques insisted that Michelle had matured since then - Josée was still skeptical, but shrugged it off.

"'Allo," Michelle greeted from a bench, with a warm smile. "It's been a long time."

Jacques got out of the store to sit beside her. "It has," he agreed. "Where have you been the past month?"

"I was in Toronto, I returned a few days ago," Michelle answered. Jacques could only nod in response. He was about to say goodbye, that it was nice to see her again, before she bit her lower lip and began hesitantly: "I heard about Rachel." Jacques was quiet. "And I know... I know I wasn't the nicest to her, but... it's very sad what happened to her."

Jacques shrugged. "C'est la vie."

"How had Josée taken it?" Michelle pressed gently.

"It's hard to tell," Jacques replied, "That wasn't the only thing that had happened."

Michelle's face fell, realization dawning on her face. "Oh, right. I had heard about her mother, too... I'm sorry." Jacques didn't reply to that, instead he quieted. He was desperately craving that cigarette right about now. Right before he could get up, Michelle stopped him: "But what have you been up to?" She winked playfully. "Seeing anyone?"

"I don't have a lot of time for boyfriends..." Jacques paused, then muttered after careful consideration: "...or girlfriends."

Michelle furrowed her brows in confusion. "I thought you were gay?"

Jacques considered it again. Despite the fact that he wanted to forget everything about the race, he thought about the one team that he wouldn't mind coming into contact with again. He remembered what they said, specifically what Tom said, that it wasn't about picking a side; that it mattered on who the person was. The truth of the matter was, he had fallen for his ice dancing partner - who happened to be female. Of course he knew he was attracted to men more, but now he was attracted to someone who was female.

And that was perfectly fine. "Who says I can't like both?" Jacques finally said. It took him a second to realize that this was the first time he said it aloud, and that he didn't sound so confident. But once he let those words leave his lips, he felt satisfied - almost free, even. He felt a heavy weight get off his shoulders and it was such a wonderful feeling.

"So you're bisexual?" Michelle asked.

Bisexual.

She said it so casually, and, it felt like music to his ears.

Slowly, Jacques nodded. "Oui, I guess you could say that." He didn't think that the first person he would say this to would be Michelle, but here he was. "I'm bisexual." It felt a little weird on his tongue, but maybe, just maybe he could get used to it. He was apprehensive of what Michelle's reaction would be.

But she showed no trace of judgment. "Oh cool."

"I would appreciate if you didn't really mention this to anyone," he still couldn't help but say, despite the relief that Jacques felt in his system.

Michelle gave him a reassuring smile. "No worries, it's fine with me." It was comfortably silent for a few seconds.

Jacques cleared his throat to break it and stood up. "It was nice talking to you, Michelle. But I have to go..." he stopped. Where did he have to go? Oh right, it was to buy a pack of cigarettes for this overwhelming stress that he had. But suddenly, he didn't feel so stressed anymore. And he didn't want that cigarette, either. "...to the rink."

He said goodbye and left to visit his partner.

It was the little things Josèe did that Jacques loved most, he thought. Whether it was the way she tucked in that one loose strand of hair behind her ear that always managed to escape her ponytail, or how she would argue about romantic movies such as Titanic which didn't seem all that romantic to her ("How could they fall in love in such a short amount of time?!") or the way her eyes lit up when talking about the things she loved – which consisted of skating, and especially winning gold. Then there was her laugh, and how Jacques had made it a goal to make her do so at least once a day – which was sometimes at his expense and made him the butt of the joke, but it was worth it. It was always worth it to hear that laugh of hers.

All the little things in mind, Jacques watched in awe as Josèe gracefully slid across the ice – now that was the big thing about her that he loved; the way she was very passionate about what she loved and took it seriously, as proven. She still had it, Jacques thought. Frankly so did he, but it was something about Josèe in which he knew she would never get out of practice.

Josèe met his eyes – making Jacques' stomach do a little flip – and ceased her skating. He could barely hold back a smile when Josèe tucked a loose strand that escaped her ponytail behind her ear, because of course. "You're here after all. I thought you were taking some time to yourself?"

Jacques shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "I figured I would join you on the ice."

Josèe frowned skeptically and sighed. "Alright, dish."

Did she somehow figure it out? Jacques' eyes nearly popped open. "What?"

"Don't play dumb. You have that look in your eyes."

Jacques raised an eyebrow. "A look?" he emphasized confusedly. "What kind of look?" He hoped she didn't notice his voice was at a higher pitch.

Josèe thought about it for a moment. "There are many looks that you have..." Jacques' ears perked up; he was almost tempted to ask her to name the alleged many looks that he had. "This look is known as the I-Almost-Did-Something-Stupid-But-Instead-I-Directed-It-Somewhere-Else-And-I-Want-To-Say-What-It-Is-Without-Being-Judged look," she said in one breath. Jacques stared blankly at her. In return, a heat rose across Josèe's cheeks. "I'm a very observant person."

"Oui," Jacques agreed quickly. "Very observant."

Awkward silence followed.

"And I wouldn't... judge you, you know," Josèe admitted, a bit too quietly and looking down at her skates.

"I know." He did, but it was wonderful to hear it every now and then. "I almost got a pack of cigarettes..." Jacques stopped to observe his companion's expression, which was surprisingly neutral and not of disgust, then continued: "But I talked to someone... a friend."

"A friend?" Josèe questioned, then rolled her eyes. "Is it Lucas? You have many friends, Jacques, this isn't specific at all."

"Michelle." Jacques watched as his partner's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, but then returned to its natural state. "We had a conversation... and suddenly I didn't want the cigarette anymore."

Josèe crossed her arms. "You only want a cigarette when you're nervous about something," she said knowingly. "Are you okay? Did someone throw something at our apartment again?" This was an unfortunately common occurrence after all the episodes of that stupid game show they were on had aired. "Jacques, I told you that you need to ignore those idiots-"

"I know," Jacques interrupted. "All that matters is that Michelle and I talked, caught up, and everything's okay. Is that alright with you?"

Josèe's expression was unreadable. "...I don't have control over who you choose to be friends with, you know that. As long as you're alright..."

"She asked about you and how you're taking everything... she's heard about Rachel, and your mother... she offers her condolences."

Josèe's lips formed a thin line and broke eye contact. "Did she now?" She asked, rather coldly. Then she began to mumble bitterly under her breath: "Interestingly enough, Michelle was one of Rachel's biggest bullies... and she would snort those drugs just like her yet no one said anything about Michelle, and Michelle had the nerve to call Rachel trashy."

Jacques frowned. "Chouchou-"

"What was it Michelle called her again? A white trash junkie? Or..."

"Chouchou-"

"It shouldn't have been Rachel," Josèe suddenly spat, shaking her head miserably. Her head snapped up to meet Jacques' eyes. "You know... after the olympics... she's the reason I came back. I mean, I did miss you, but... she's the one that convinced me, because really... I was too scared," she admitted, then sighed: "I don't know what it was about her, just... she was very dear to me, almost like... like Claude was, I guess... I don't know." Jacques read in-between the lines of what she was saying; she wasn't finished quite yet. "I just couldn't bring myself to hate her, or dislike her. I disliked the choices she made, such as who were companions were, and the things she put into her body, but... even with that, I could never hate her."

"Josèe-"

"We had gotten a lot closer after the olympics," Josèe cut in softly. Jacques closed his mouth and listened intently to his friend's anecdote. "A lot closer. We studied a lot regarding figure skating – she has a knack for analogies, you know, and she applies them very well when it comes to footwork on the ice. As much as I hated her choices, I could never match her brains... never. And you know how I know I felt good around her? Because later on, I didn't mind one bit that she was smarter than me. It used to bug me before, don't get me wrong..." Jacques couldn't help but smile at that. "But later, I didn't care... and truthfully, I would give anything if she fact checked me right now."

Jacques grinned. "You hated when she did that."

Josèe matched it and rolled her eyes fondly, chuckling. "Oh, you have no idea..."

"Josèe! Jacques! Just the two ice dancers I wanted to see!" Josèe and Jacques turned around to be met with Isaac, recognizing his voice immediately. He made his way to them and clapped his hands once. "So, I was originally confused on how both of you had gotten barred from competing this season, but after I watched all episodes of your game show, I can definitely see why."

Jacques and Josèe exchanged a look of realization.

Oh. Shit.

"We need to have a chat in my office," Isaac remarked. Josèe and Jacques visibly winced. "A lot of it is regarding your future in figure skating, so I suggest we get to it. And no, you're not going to whine, or complain, or argue your way out of this one."

Despite the fact that Josèe and Jacques were twenty and twenty-two years old, their coach knew exactly how to make them feel like schoolchildren that had just gotten a detention.

This was going to suck.

Josèe and Jacques sat directly across from their coach, unable to look at him directly in the eyes. The clock ticking filled the uncomfortable silence between the three of them. Josèe's eyes were averted to the floor while Jacques' were off to the side. Isaac tapped his fingers on the table absentmindedly, almost like he was gathering his thoughts on what to say over the situation.

"Let me be the first to break the silence," Isaac started off calmly. Josèe and Jacques remained still. "First, did you watch the episodes?" The ice dancers shook their heads. "I think you should; it was very revealing. You know how you behaved."

He was met with silence.

Isaac took a breath, full of annoyance. "Let me give you a run down of what I saw, because what I saw, was the most immature display by you two that I've ever seen. If your six and eight year old selves could see you right now, they would be ashamed to see that that's how you ended up acting in a competition. To be frank, I'm very ashamed of what I saw out there. You became what you've despised the most, you truly have lost it. Don't blame things outside of the competition, I know that did not help, but that does not justify your actions at all. Take some responsibility for yourselves."

Josèe and Jacques bit their lips apprehensively.

But their coach wasn't anywhere near done. "I've warned you both. I've warned you repeatedly that this cutthroat, 'get them before they get me' attitude would not work. I have taught you... for almost fifteen years... and I've told you the same thing, over and over again. I never ever had a problem with your footwork on the ice. Unless you guys were having a bad day, I would only have to correct something once. The only flaw that both of you had was how desperate you were to win and to be honest, how dramatic you two are. I told you not to make enemies with others around you, but did you listen? No."

Silence.

"I've always told you to stay in your own lane. Focus on the performance, and not on comparing yourself to others. It's funny how when I say that, and you actually listen, you end up winning gold? It's just hilarious how that works. The whole world saw how you behaved out there. It takes years to build a reputation but only seconds to destroy it. You two have so much growing up to do."

Even more silence. Josèe and Jacques have been reprimanded by their coach before; but not like this. And to be frank, this was madder than they had ever seen him - he wasn't mad when it came to the olympics; but this? Well, he was furious. Shame plagued both Josèe and Jacques; there was no turning back from this.

"However," Isaac started off wearily, letting out a sigh of regret. "You're not fully to blame here."

Josèe and Jacques, for the first time, snapped their heads up to meet their coach's eyes, which were surprisingly soft and full of guilt. "...I should've never told you what was going on, and... it likely contributed to your spiral. That was my own doing, and I should've waited to tell you about Rachel instead of doing it in the middle of the competition. That was my fault, and... I never taught the both of you how to work well with other contestants, only to stay away because of how cutthroat ice dancing is..." Isaac scratched the back of his head in thought. "Ever since you were children, social skills weren't your thing - oh, do not look at me like that. Did you see how you both acted on camera?" Isaac cleared his throat, "'Ooh, I love it when you talk evil!'" he mimicked Jacques, then rolled his eyes. "What the hell even was that?" Jacques' face turned red. "Anyway, my point is... I only taught you what to say in front of the camera, but when it came to people skills... yeah, it's definitely not your thing. So, yes, part of this is my fault."

Josèe and Jacques were stunned.

"Yes, we know it was bad, but... you don't understand," Josèe remarked. "We lost two people during the race in such a short amount of time-"

"Be careful with what you say," Isaac cut in, his tone was light, but it still indicated a warning. "Both of you know I am the wrong person to say that to. I understand completely how you feel. One second, you're laughing and having a good time with your friends, and then in the blink of an eye..." Isaac snapped his finger once, and for a brief moment, something flashed before his eyes and then darkened. "...you're going to thirty of their funerals, despite you not even turning thirty yet."

Awkward silence immediately followed.

"Sorry," Josèe mumbled.

Isaac sighed. "No, it's okay... I shouldn't have said that. Just... be careful with what you say, okay?"

It went silent again.

"So," Jacques started quietly, "What does this mean for us?"

"I've talked to the ISU," Isaac began stealthily, "And the ban for this season remains." Josèe and Jacques' faces fell significantly. "But..." Josèe and Jacques' eyebrows shot up at the many meanings behind that one word, that could potentially make this good, or bad: "They have reached a proposition for you to compete in the next season-"

"What is it?" Josèe cut in desperately, her eyes wide. "We'll do anything."

Isaac smirked. "I'm so glad you said that. Remember when I pestered the both of you to take those instructor exams for backup reasons?" He didn't need to explain it further. It already sunk in based on the horror on Josèe and Jacques' faces.

"We... have to teach people how to skate?" Josèe asked, blinking.

"Not just people," Isaac replied. "Children between the ages of six and ten."

Josèe and Jacques froze; dread filled both of them.

"This sounds like a terrible idea," Jacques remarked. "Did you not see me tackle a child on television?"

"I agree," Josèe added. "Children don't like me, they hate me. Besides, you think parents after seeing us would allow their children to be taught by so-called villains?"

Isaac chuckled. "You would be surprised at how many people are willing to let their children be taught by silver medal olympians."

Josèe snorted. "Don't make me vomit."

"I've seen her vomit, Isaac, it's very gross," Jacques added cheekily, earning a glare from his partner.

"Well, you could always say no... and therefore not qualify for the olympics," Isaac reminded them.

That grabbed their attention.

It was unavoidable. Josèe sighed and asked, "When do we start?"

"In a week, actually."

Beat.

"You aren't serious," Jacques stated flatly.

Isaac could only laugh. "You have a lot of growing up to do."

About a week later, Josèe and Jacques learned exactly what was meant by that. Isaac introduced Josèe and Jacques to the group of children, who were between the ages of six and ten - they were a bit bratty, but still willing to learn how to skate.

"My maman says you destroyed a set!" one of the girls in the group exclaimed to Josèe gleefully. "We watched it together! You were really mad!" Josèe felt her face heating up while Jacques glanced over nervously at his partner.

"I have had kinder days," Josèe offered lamely.

"We both have," Jacques added.

"You weared a dress!" one of the boys shouted, pointing at Jacques. He blinked slowly at the child. "And a skirt! But you don't have those in skating!" He giggled loudly, causing the entire group to giggle collectively in response.

Josèe and Jacques turned to Isaac. "Is this how we behaved?" Josèe asked.

"Oh no," Isaac replied. Josèe and Jacques felt relief wash over them, until Isaac added: "You scared half of your coaches away, so you were worse." The relief instantly vanished. Isaac smiled and went on. "Don't worry, you'll be great." And he left them alone, despite the pleading looks Josèe and Jacques sent his way. Realizing they were on their own, they hesitantly looked back at the group who was staring at them.

"So..." Jacques began awkwardly, "Do we ah... have any questions?"

All their hands shot up at once.

Josèe cocked an eyebrow. "Questions that have nothing to do with the race show."

After a few seconds, all their hands gradually lowered.

"Okay so..." Josèe looked back at Jacques, who shrugged. "We're going to pair you up."

In January of 2012, three months after Josèe and Jacques became instructors, they had gotten the hang of it. Jacques had progressed much faster than Josèe did in terms of teaching, but honestly it was a miracle that neither ice dancer lost their tempers with them. Besides, the students were eager to learn - and had kept questions about the race down to a minimum. Honestly, the hype for the Ridonculous Race had died down considerably over the past few months, and hadn't gotten any hate for it. In fact, Josèe and Jacques liked being instructors, it kept them out of trouble, and to introduce young children to their shared passion was a blessing in disguise. It was almost therapeutic, even.

Josèe and Jacques walked back to their apartment - they were still living together - with happy thoughts in mind.

"They're growing so fast, Jacjac," Josèe beamed proudly. "I didn't think I'd be so happy to see them progress." Jacques smiled fondly at his partner as she went on, "It reminds me of us when we were younger, you know. Even if I was a little mean to you at first."

"A little?" Jacques emphasized amusedly. "You made me cry on the first day."

Josèe couldn't help but grin. "Okay first of all, you were wobbly-"

"Hardly."

"Second of all," Josèe continued in amusement as if Jacques didn't interrupt, "You didn't take skating seriously at first."

"I did so."

"You didn't; I remember very clearly-"

"I did so."

"Are you sure about that?" Josèe asked through chuckles. Jacques smiled back; she was beautiful, really. She let out a sigh of content and sat down on the sofa. "Anyway, I'm just... happy where I am. The faster we get through this, the more likely the ISU will let us compete next season... and we'll be able to compete in the 2014 olympics. I'm just... over everything that happened from that stupid TV show, I hardly even think about it anymore!"

Jacques smiled more. They had almost forgotten about the race entirely and were glad to have cut ties from it.

...Or have they?

They spoke too soon as apartment phone began to ring.

Jacques frowned and reached over to answer. "Allo?"

"Is this Jacques Clemont and Josèe Boyet from the Ridonculous Race?" the voice asked. Jacques' eyes widened considerably, while Josèe looked on in concern. Jacques removed the phone from his ear and put it on speaker. "Hello? This is Brad, one of the producers of the Ridonculous Race and I'm wondering if this is the number belonging to Josèe and Jacques from the Ridonculous Race?" Now Josèe's eyes grew wide. She knew that she had given the producers of the show their phone number - it was part of the contract - but they didn't expect to be contacted. Josèe looked at Jacques expectantly, unsure of what to do. Jacques was at a loss himself.

"This is them," Jacques replied, a bit hesitantly. Josèe smacked his arm and motioned exaggeratedly at how alarmed she was. "What is it?"

"We are calling for your confirmation that you are coming to the Ridonculous Race reunion in a week." Josèe and Jacques froze as the producer continued, giving the precise location of the event and what the event would consist of. It lasted about two minutes, which Josèe and Jacques spent silently bickering over what to do. "Hello? You there?"

They stopped bickering at once. "Oui," Josèe added, from beside her partner. She glared at him intensely, while he shrugged cluelessly. "When did you say this was?" The producer stated what the date was and when, as well as where the event would take place - and that their hotel room needed to be booked if they were coming.

"Final answer? We need this confirmed now."

Jacques and Josèe could've said no. They really could've - and almost should've - said no. The Ridonculous Race had given them many, many awful memories which involved two people dying, their friendship being tested, making a handful of enemies, and their reputations being destroyed. They were just staring to build them back up again, and despite the fact that they had uttered just a few minutes ago that they were glad to have gotten away from the race, there were two things that Josèe and Jacques had in mind.

"Are Tom and Jen... the Fashion Bloggers... going?"

"Everyone is going."

"Oh... oh it's everyone," Jacques remarked, a bit nervously.

That was the first thing.

The second thing, happened to be that they promised that they were going to be better people. They remembered that very well from New York. Maybe going back to make amends with the other contestants would be the way to do that. Maybe if they apologized and people learned that they weren't some sociopathic monsters that they would have a chance. It was a risk, yes, but what did they have to lose now? It's not like this reunion was going to be filmed or anything. It was not like they would be told how to act.

They could try being themselves, for a change.

Josèe and Jacques exchanged a look, reading the other's mind precisely, and nodded collectively. "We'll be there," they said simultaneously.