Disclaimer: Any and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, writings, etc. are the property of their respective owners/creators. Any and all original content is property of the author, who, in this case, happens to be me. In other words, I don't own Twilight, I just manipulate SM's characters into bastardized versions of themselves and I don't own pretty much anything else, either.

Thanks to Charm, Megan, and Zi for their unending love and support!

Chapter One: Ice & Snow

"Bella! Bella!"

"What's it feel like to be participating in your first Olympic games, Bella?"

"How do you feel the competition is shaping up this year, Mr. McCarty?"

"Emmett! Can I have an autograph?"

"Bella! Are the rumors about you and Jasper true?"

"Emmett! Over here!"

Keeping her head ducked and her hood over most of her face was hard considering that the crush of fans and paparazzi were jostling her so roughly, Bella felt like she was in a paint shaker. And it didn't help that, when on two flat feet, she was about as graceful as a one legged duck on a unicycle.

A reassuring squeeze on her arm gave her a last surge of determination, and she successfully made it through the ooze of fame-mongers and to the side of the behemoth SUV awaiting her.

"Alright!" Emmett boomed, placing a protective arm around his sister's shoulder. "Everybody move it!"

A few moments later, Emmett had the back door of the vehicle open and was literally lifting Bella into the back seat before following her inside. The door shut with thud, and the cacophany of yelling and flashbulbs decreased exponentially.

"Wow," Bella breathed, staring through the tinted windows at the people still clamoring for their attention. Emmett laughed.

"Yeah, shit like this is a big deal," he told her, buckling his seat belt as the car began to move, taking them from the airport to the house they rented near the Olympic Village. "You get used to it. And it only happens every four years, so it's not totally overwhelming. Now buckle up."

Doing as she was told, Bella pulled the seat belt across her body and fastened it, all the while thinking of what she was about to experience.

She, Bella Swan- shy, introverted klutz extrodinare- was living out her dream and participating in the Olympics.

"Excited?" Emmett asked, grinning as he saw the look of apprehensive awe on his little sister's face. He knew the feeling, and he knew it well. This would be his fourth Olympic games, and the nervous anticipation was something that never changed or went away.

All Bella could do was nod as she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. In just a little while, the car would drop them off right beside the Olympic Village, and the slight cynical hope that this was all just a dream would be broken. Her phone chirped from her pocket, breaking her out of her pessimistic internal musings. It was a text from Jasper.

'hey sweets. caught the back of u & em gettin into ur car. im right behind u.'

Stupidly, Bella actually turned in her seat and glanced out the back window of the SUV, even though she knew that Jasper wasn't literally behind them.

"It's Jazz," she told her brother when he looked at her questioningly. "He said he saw us at the airport but was too far behind."

Emmett just nodded and settled into his seat while Bella texted her partner back, telling him that they'd meet up at the house since he wouldn't be too far behind.

"Are you sure you can't stay with me longer, Em?" Bella asked, breaking the silence that ensued after the text was sent. Her voice sounded small and childlike to her ears.

Emmett pulled his sister into his side for a one-armed hug. "As much as I really want to, Bells, we both know I can't. It's just tonight, then I have to head over to Whistler. But you'll have Jasper and Maggie with you. And Charlie and Renée will be up soon."

Bella sighed. "I know. It's just..."

"I know." The squeeze of the hug tightened all the more, and Bella knew that her big brother understood.

"Edward, man... Let's go. I want to hit the slopes early in case things turn nasty out."

Groaning into his pillow, Edward rolled over and glared at the ceiling as he pictured Mike's face and all the torturous things he wanted to do to it. The persistent knocking began again.

"Edward! Dude! Let's go already!"

"Fuck, Newton!" Edward yelled, wincing as the pain in his throat grated and turned his annoyed cry into an exasperated rasp. Shit, I hope I'm not getting sick, he thought. "Just go ahead without me. I'll catch up."

There was some grumbling outside his door and stillness before he heard Mike's retreating footsteps followed by a yell to the others that Edward was 'too pussy to get his ass out of bed.'

"Fuck you, Newton," he groused, climbing out of bed and stalking towards the ensuite bathroom. He tried to ignore the aches in his back and his joints that accompanied the sore throat, but he knew that to do that would be athletic suicide. Instead, he ignored the haggard looking reflection in the mirror and pulled out a bottle of Buckley's from medicine cabinet. Not bothering to read the instructions on the label, he opened it and took a healthy swig, fighting the urge to spit it out as he swallowed.

"Tastes awful, all right," he mused, recapping the bottle and trading it for his toothbrush.

As he brushed his teeth, Edward walked into the walk-in closet and began to pull out clothes to wear for the day, tossing them onto the vanity island in the middle of the immense wardrobe. His gear, he hoped, was all put away in the equiptment room where it should be.

After his clothes were set out, he finished brushing his teeth and dressed, not bothering to shower because he'd just get sweaty anyway. While pulling on his second pair of thermal socks, he heard his phone ring out from the bedroom, his sister's personal ringtune - 'Popular' from the musical Wicked.

"Hey, Elph," he greeted, wincing slightly as his throat stung with the effort to speak.

"Are you sick? You can't get sick! What's wrong with you?! Go drink a bottle of Buckley's and rub some Vicks on yourself, and drink some green tea and heat up some soup because if you're contagious by the time I get there I will happily kick your sorry, pasty white-"

"I miss you, too, Elph." He laughed, using his nickname for her again as he cut her off. He heard her sigh on the other end of the line.

"We're on our way," she told him. "We're driving down to Toronto and taking a Porter flight out this afternoon. We should be there late tonight. Don't go out on the slopes if you're sick."

"I'll be fine, Alice," he replied, leaving the bedroom and heading toward the kitchen. Rifling through the pantry, he found what he was looking for: two packages of cherry Halls lozenges.

"I'm just going out for a quick run on the slopes with the guys, maybe some pipe time, and I promise you I will be back in bed. And don't tell Mom I'm sick! So, do you guys want me to pick you up from the airport?"

"No, Mom said not to bother. We're coming in really late. Dad arranged a car for us, so if the weather isn't too bad we'll drive straight up. If not, we'll just grab a hotel room and come up in the morning."

Edward walked to the equipment room and spied his snow gear. He shoved the lozenges into his parka pocket and began to suit up. "Cool. How was the snow at Blue?"

"Pretty shitty the first few days; all that crappy powder that you can't do anything with. But then we got a huge snowstorm and that brought down the good stuff. How's it up at Whistler?"

"Primo," he answered, stuffing his unruly auburn hair into his favorite red Team Canada toque and pulling the wool over his ears. He fished his iPhone out of the tangled mess he made of himself and continued to relay the weather conditions on the mountains.

"It's crisp out and the snow's not too packed. And it's only, like, minus eight or nine degrees out."

"Damn, it's warm," Alice whistled.

"Yeah, it's supposed to last through the morning, and then we're supposed to get hit with a snowsquall this afternoon. Hopefully it'll be over quick." He placed the phone on the bench by his legs as he pulled his goggles over his head. He picked it up just in time to listen to Alice's musings.

"... strange. It doesn't usually snow that bad in BC."

"Global warming, Elph," Edward remarked, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and grabbing his boots and board from their respective racks. "If last winter was any indication, the VANOC may not have to resort to snow machines."

A very disgruntled harrumph sounded in his ear and Edward couldn't help but laugh. Alice preferred snow making machines; she hated the unpredictability of naturally occurring snow.

"Alright, Elph," he said, stowing his gear into the back of his silver Volvo XC90. "I'm off to grind some out on the slopes. Catch you later?"

"Yeah. And eat something before you get sicker. Love you, Eddie."

"Love you, too, Ali."

Emmett let out a roar as the spectators on the television screen followed suit. Bella couldn't tell whether it was in appreciation or protest, and that made her giggle a little bit.

"Girlie! You best get your head out of that game and into this one if you're looking towards gold."

Seated at the breakfast bar beside Jasper, Bella looked over to their coach, Maggie.

"Sorry, Mags. Is there any way to get some free time in between all the practicing and the US Championships? I mean, there must be others who've signed up for ice time."

"Head in the game, cailín," the short red-headed Irish woman chided. "You can't be worrying about anything now except you and Jasper, understood?"

Bella just nodded mutely while Jasper grasped her hand and rubbed small, reassuring circles into her palm.

"Be easy on the girl, Mags," he said to their coach. He turned to Bella. "We're here early; I'm sure we'll have time enough to see Em up in Whistler before things get crazy. Maybe we'll even check out the X-Games. They have arenas in Aspen."

Maggie scowled and stomped towards the fridge, muttering obscenities under her breath in Gaelic. Bella mouthed 'thank you' to her partner and best friend, and Jazz winked back.

The four of them had finished dinner and while Emmett was engrossed in a hockey game; the remaining three had gone over the training schedule Maggie had drawn up. Consisting mostly of arena time and gym time before and after the US Figure Skating Championships, the schedule had left little time for anything other than sleeping and eating.

Bella, used to the fiery Irishwoman's rigorous routines, was also used to having enough spare time to see her brother. As they poured over the timetable, Bella had noticed an absence of spare time in which she could drive up to Whistler to be with him or support him at the X-Games in Colorado. It left her unsettled, considering the fact that, besides Jazz, Emmett was her best friend and, despite the fourteen year age gap between them, they were insanely close.

The absence of spare time also drilled into her the fact that she really and truly was at the Olympics, the epitome of athletic competition. The butterflies in her stomach raged, threatening the digestion of her spinach and goat cheese pizza.

"Hey there, baby girl," Jazz intoned softly. Bella looked up at him and found his face fraught with concern. "What's going on up in that pretty little head of yours?"

Jasper watched as the tears formed in Bella's large doe brown eyes, and he opened his arms out to her. She launched hersf into his lap, arms around his neck and face buried into the crook of his neck. He closed his arms around her into a tight embrace. He could feel the tension in her small shoulders and he knew that her nerves were messing with her head. He was glad that at least one of them had experienced a competition of this caliber; he had placed fourth at the Turin Olympics four years prior, a feat that he was undoubtedly proud of since it had been his debut Olympic performance.

Though he and Bella had both participated in the US Championships and the Worlds, he- like every other professional athlete in the world- knew in his heart that the Olympics was the big kahuna of competitive sports. Jasper had no doubt that the weight of this fact was pressing heavily on his partner.

"Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl," Jasper soothed, running his hands up and down her back in an effort to calm her. "We practice, we'll medal at the US Champs, come back and medal here, too. You'll see."

Bella sniffed in response, wishing that she could be just a tenth as optimistic as the Texan whose lap she was perched upon.

"C'mon," Jazz said, moving his arms to underneath her butt and carrying her as he stood. "Let's get you to bed. The Irish Comandante has us for morning skate tomorrow."

The sky was white, so white in fact that he couldn't make out the tiny flakes of snow until they were mere centimeters from his face. It was pretty, though, Edward decided. Much better than the cliché blue or the omen inspiring grey.

"Cullen! You alright, man?" Edward heard Mike and the guys before he saw them. He was enjoying looking up at the sky until Mike, Tyler, and Alec's faces loomed above him.

"I'm fine," he replied, his throat protesting at the use of his voice. He rooted around in his parka pocket and unwrapped a Halls, popping it into his mouth before sitting up and waving his friends away.

"You sound like shit, dude," Tyler observed, plopping down onto the snow beside him. The other two followed suit.

"That was a totally unpretty beef," Alec commented, referring to the fall that had Edward staring up at the sky in the first place. "What happened?"

"I was trying to bone out an indy, but I saw a rabbit hole on my x-mark and I couldn't bail out in time."

"Cue the asspass and crater."

"Pretty much," Edward surmised with a chuckle, causing the guys to laugh with him.

"But you're okay, right?" Mike asked again.

"Yeah, I'm good." Edward jumped up, righting himself on his board. "But we ought to head back to the house. Looks like the squall's comin' in."

Edward pulled his goggles over his eyes and situated himself so that his right foot was leading him down the slope. He barely saw Alec flip him the bird- for going down goofy and showing off about it- before it was just him, the snow, and the trees again.

Feeling the burn in his arms and legs from the gimped indy, he decided to just skim his way down the mountain. Making wide, lazy zig zag trails through the snow, Edward felt at peace with the world. The pressure of the X-Games and the Olympics was forgotten, the annoyance of illness temporarily put on hold. It was a feeling that Edward relished, the very reason he was a snowboarder in the first place.

He came to a smooth stop at the bottom of the slope, waiting idly for the guys to join him. There weren't many others out this morning, probably fearing the possibility of getting caught in the impending whiteout. He spied some hard core fruit booters coming down the far side of the piste and shook his head with a laugh. He was lucky his face was turned when he felt the cold sting of snow spray hit his cheek.

"What the fuck, man!" he croaked; it was normally disrespect for a boarder to facemask a fellow boarder. Spray below the neck, it's all in good fun; above the neck means some serious shit is about to go down.

Wiping the caked on snow from the side of his face, Edward glared at the soon-to-be-dead prick. But before he could tell the bastard to drop trou, a familiar throaty feminine laugh floated to his ears.

"What's wrong, Cullen?" the betty in front of him giggled, her goggles resting on top of her head and her violet eyes dancing with mirth. "Popsicle stuck your tongue?"