Disclaimer: I do not own Total Drama; it is the property of Teletoon and Cartoon Network.

Jacques stared at the medal in his hands. It gleamed back at him, almost mockingly. He had been dead silent ever since they'd placed… hell, he'd been silent since they'd gotten their scores. He just couldn't find the words.

After they'd received their medals, family, friends, and other competitors alike had come to congratulate him and his partner. They'd told him that they were so proud of him for doing as well as he'd done. They didn't understand.

He hadn't even been able to speak with Josée yet. The moment they'd stepped away from the podium, she'd ran off. To where, he wasn't sure. If he was honest with himself, Jacques wouldn't be surprised if she never talked to him again. After all, it was all his fault that they hadn't won the gold. She was probably searching for a new partner already. And could he blame her? No.

Their routine had been so perfect. They had practiced it so often, Jacques had been certain that he could perform it in his sleep. He even dreamed about performing the routine at the Olympics. So what had gone wrong? One little slip, and the next thing he knew, Josée was not in his arms as they'd practiced, but on the ground, faced pressed against the ice.

Jacques knew that that one little act had cost them the gold. After all, they had still taken silver even with the accident—which proved how much better they were than every other duo on the ice. Silver. Jacques stared down at the medal in his hands and shivered.

He tore his gaze away and bit his lip to keep it from quivering. Even now, it was difficult for him to keep it together. After they'd placed, both he and Josée had been rushed by cameramen and reporters, demanding to know what had happened and how they were feeling. Josée hadn't even stuck around for that, so it was up to Jacques to placate the vultures. He was proud that he'd been strong enough to keep from crying on international television, though that little victory mattered little when there was a silver medal gleaming from his neck.

And now, hours later, Jacques sat alone in the locker room. His event had been one of the last of the night, and so afterward most people had left for their respective homes. Not Jacques. He couldn't bear to return home, knowing the shame he had brought to his country by losing. Knowing that in his room, there was a trophy case just for the golden medal he was so sure he would take home.

"What a joke…" he whispered, closing his eyes as the tears finally started to form. He finally let the emotional rollercoaster of the day wash over him, and he sniffed as a tear dripped down his cheek. Well, at least no one was here to witness his shame.

"So, this is how you act in the face of defeat."

"I… wh-" Jacques lifted his head and yelped at the person standing in the doorway. "J-Josée!" He immediately wiped his sleeve across his face in an effort to conceal his tears. "Josée what are you doing here?"

The ice queen frowned and looked away. It was then that Jacques noticed that her eyes were tinged a slight pink color, and her cheeks had more blush on them that just makeup would provide. She'd been crying. However, Jacques might have missed these subtle clues, given that a nasty purple bruise was forming on her cheek, and her eye was puffing up black and blue.

His grip tightened on the silver medal in his hands, "Josée… are you okay?" It was a stupid question—one that he knew would only cause her temper to flare up at him, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

And as he'd guessed, she glared at him. "Let's see, I was dropped on my face on the ice, just placed silver on the most important day of my life, and it's not even my fault. Am I okay?" she growled.

Jacques shrunk away from her anger, and tears began to trail down his cheeks as he stood. "You are right, Josée. I…" his voice trailed off. He wanted to apologize; to take back everything that had happened. But of course, that would do no good. His partner did not tolerate second best.

Unlike Jacques—who seemed to be deflating more and more by the minute—Josée only grew angrier. She stalked toward him with fire in her eyes and poked a finger roughly against his muscled chest. "How could you do this to me Jacques?! How?! Out of everyone in my life, you were the one person I could count on! You were the one who was never supposed to let me down! And… and…" By now, tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands. "And you let me fall…" she whispered, barely loud enough for the man next to her to hear.

"Josée…" he said, his throat tightening at the utter loss that lined her words. This was about more than just placing silver. In Josée's eyes, Jacques had betrayed her. Throughout all of their life, he had been her rock of stability—the one who had always been her greatest supporter. And in their greatest moment, he had failed her. Understanding dawned on him then. While winning had been important to him, it had been everything to her. "Josée, je suis tellement désolé... je vous ai échoué."

Josée beat her fist against his chest, "How. Could. You. Drop. Me?!" She punctuated each syllable with another with another punch. Eventually, she just collapsed against his chest and began to sob. As a reflex ingrained into his mind since they were small, Jacques wrapped his arms around the sobbing girl in a comforting gesture.

They stayed like that for an indeterminate amount of time, both with tears in their eyes as they finally accepted the hard truth that the day had given them. They had lost. Even after their tears had dried away, Jacques did not let go of his partner. Silence reigned supreme for a while, before Jacques said, "I guess you will be looking for a new partner now."

Josée did not reply, which all but confirmed Jacques' fears. Sighing, he began to pull away, but was stopped as Josée's grip on his leotard tightened. "Josée?"

"You're allowed to quit only when I say you can," came the muffled reply. Lifting her tear-stained face from his chest, she added, "And I'm not finished with you yet. You are mine."

Jacques stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. Lifting a hand, he tentatively wiped a tear from her blackened eye. "Josée, I promise, I will never let you fall again."

The woman nodded and pushed back from him, using her sleeve to dry her own eyes. Catching sight of the silver medal still held in his hands, she made a disgusted grunt and snatched it away from him. Stalking over to a trash can, she let the Olympic medal fall into the garbage—just has her mother had done with her own medal hours ago. When Josée turned back to him, Jacques could see a passionate fire burning in her black eyes.

"And I promise that gold will never again slip through my fingers."

I am in ice dancer hell, and I had to contribute SOMETHING to the beauty that is Jacques and Josée. You can blame sallychanscraps on tumblr entirely for RUINING MY LIFE WITH THESE BABES! ...also, I'm not really pleased with that last line but I spent over thirty minutes trying to think of a way to end it, and that's all I got.

I'll probably write one for the Goths as well, since they are my other TDRR ship. …maybe.

Anyways, leave a review, yea? Thanks.

Until next time, Ciao.