Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Going For Gold ❯ Chapter 31 ( Chapter 31 )

Disclaimer: I don't own the G boys, I just borrow them from time to time and return them a whole lot happier. I do own the plot and any other characters, especially the equines, that you will find in this fic. Please do not take them without permission. Written for pleasure not profit.

 

Pairing: 2x1x2, 3x4, 13x6, H+C

 

Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, sap, angst, vet themes, AU

 

Rating: NC 17

 

Archive: www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com Anyone else please ask.

 

Betaed by Yami_tai *snugs*

 

Summary: Eighteen months have passed since Heero was advised he was short listed for the Olympic games team. With Zero going well and young Shinigami almost ready to make his showjumping debut, Heero looks set to reach his goal. Life though doesn't always play by the rules.

 

Dedication: To Leslie who gave me the original idea for Equinity.

 

Fic 3 in the Equine Intervention Arc.

 

"Going for Gold"

 

January. 2007 ShenLong

 

 

Chapter 31

 

The arena had been raked, the jumps checked and now all that remained was for the officials to take their places again for the final rounds. Michael was busy warming up Crackerjack, the chestnut seemingly fresh and full of himself. Treize settled deeper into his seat in the competitors' area and hoped Michael had his horse working properly by the time it came for him to jump. Noin was busy adding up scores on her program and trying to keep tabs on where they were currently sitting in the placings.

 

The rest of the team and their grooms were talking quietly amongst themselves. Win, lose or draw, they were each happy with their respective rounds, knowing that their horses had given them everything they possibly could. It was all up to fate now.

 

A hush descended over the arena as the commentator announced the first rider in the final rounds. The German rider appeared to be relaxed as he rode into the arena and saluted the judge. However, closer scrutiny showed him to be tense, the lines around his face deepening as his concentration came to the fore. Treize knew this rider was determined to go clear. He'd done so in the first round and Germany had a lot to prove in this second round.

 

The atmosphere in the arena became electric, everyone watching and knowing that these last few rounds would make or break the country represented.

 

The German rode well, balancing his horse and seeming to find impulsion whenever he needed it. The pair were in complete harmony and the Australian team could feel their chances at a medal slipping away from them with each jump cleared. Gritting her teeth, Noin hoped and prayed the pair would make a mistake. As unsportsmanlike as that was, she couldn't help herself. As long as she didn't voice her thoughts out loud, she could pray and hope all she wanted.

 

Jump after jump continued to be cleared; and then, just as it looked like the German rider was going to make another clear round, his horse took off wrong over jump twelve. Hind legs caught the top pole, despite the best efforts of the animal in twisting those hind legs, and sent the pole crashing to the ground.

 

As much as she wanted to, Noin didn't dare cheer.

 

Moments later the German rider left the arena to applause and cheering with a score of four faults.

 

The Australian team breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The Italian rider was next to go and was doing very well until he came to the triple. His horse simply ran out of 'steam', the extra height and width taking its toll and they knocked down poles on each of the three elements. Sympathetic applause followed him out as he exited with a score of twelve penalties.

 

Then it was the American team's last rider's turn. It became obvious that not just Noin and the rest of the Aussies had been watching Treize and his angled jumping, the other teams had also witnessed his success and were now trying to emulate it. The American was clear coming into jump nine and turning wide, he attempted to bring his horse in on a sharp angle. The horse became a little confused and made a complete mess of the jump, taking off at the wrong place and practically crashing right through the jump. Despite the rider's best efforts to settle the animal, they went on to have another pole down over the second element of the triple and finished with eight faults.

 

* * *

 

“Now that's what I call a good result,” Duo snickered as the score was given out.

 

“That's not nice, Duo,” Heero chastised softly.

 

“Aw, come on, don't tell me you're not pleased they got faults? It stands to common sense, the more penalties the other riders get, the better the Aussie's chances are of taking gold.”

 

Heero blushed slightly. “Can't argue with the logic,” he muttered.

 

“See? I knew you were thinking along the same lines,” Duo crowed.

 

“Thinking it and admitting it are two different things,” Zechs said. He was feeling a lot more relaxed now that Treize had finished jumping. The phone call had also helped.

 

“Yeah, but...”

 

“Quiet, the Japanese rider's about to go,” Heero interrupted, not wanting to get into a debate with his partner over the issue, especially when his partner was too close to the truth for comfort. As much as he honored good sportsmanship and was the first to recognize and congratulate a fellow competitor, Heero couldn't help but feel a little pleased when the other countries' riders scored penalties.

 

* * *

 

The Japanese rider came unstuck over the water and following jump nine, earning himself eight penalties. The New Zealand rider fared a little better and came out with just four faults. Then it was Michael's turn.

 

Zoe was on the edge of her seat, gnawing at her fingernails until there was nothing left to chew on. Carol watched out of the corner of her eye in amusement. She was well aware of the blossoming romance between her boss and the other Australian rider and sincerely hoped it would continue to strengthen and grow into something more. Zoe deserved some happiness, having dedicated herself to a life of showjumping and competition. Carol could seen no reason why a union between Michael and Zoe could or would affect their respective careers other than to strengthen them.

 

Silence reigned as the commentator announced Michael and the Australian rider entered the arena.

 

Crackerjack was still full of energy and eager to be off, pulling against the hands that held the reins and thus his forward momentum in check. Treize noted the horse had settled quite a bit from earlier, despite his obvious eagerness to jump.

 

Saluting the judge, Michael ran a soothing hand along the chestnut's neck, speaking softly as he raised himself slightly out of the saddle and rode towards the start flags. The bell rang, Michael gathered his reins up and applied a light pressure to Crackerjack's sides, the chestnut responded immediately, shortening his stride and pricking his ears.

 

They passed through the start, activating the electronic timer and were quickly bearing down on jump one.

 

Jumps one and two were cleared easily, Crackerjack giving a whisk of his tail as he soared over them, the extra height not seeming to affect the horse in any way. Michael was constantly riding his horse, shortening and lengthening his reins and varying the contact with the chestnut's mouth as the course dictated. He managed to have the stallion perfectly balanced when they landed over jump two and made a neat, sharp turn to come into jump three dead on and shave a couple of seconds from their time.

 

"Nice," Noin muttered in approval.

 

"I hope Crackerjack can keep this up," Zoe murmured, her eyes never leaving the pair in the arena.

 

"For the sake of your fingernails, I hope this is all over soon," Carol snickered.

 

Zoe blushed and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets.

 

"And don't think you're going to start chewing on mine once you've gnawed yours away completely," Carol teased.

 

"I wouldn't..." Zoe shook her head, realizing her groom was just teasing her and trying to ease the tension a bit. "Thanks," she said softly.

 

"No problem," came the reply.

 

Treize was watching the pair out on the course intently. He had an idea that Michael would try to angle jump nine as he had done, their discussion in the stables earlier adding to that idea. They had talked about the distances, angle and line of approach for a successful jump, Michael picking Treize's brain for every scrap of information. He had advised that if Michael intended to try the angle, he stick with one forty-five degrees or slightly larger. Whilst Michael knew his horse best, Treize had had a bit more experience and that experience told him that unless you had a very strong relationship of trust with your horse, not to mention the education of the animal, angle jumping was tricky to pull off. There wasn't much he could do now though, it was all up to Michael.

 

The chestnut sailed over jumps four, five and six with room to spare and it was obvious he was enjoying himself. Jump seven was rapidly approaching, Crackerjack picked his take off point and launched into the air, clearing the jump with ease and landing cleanly on the other side. Michael gave the horse the chance to recover and took a slightly longer track to get to jump eight; the water. By giving the chestnut a couple of extra strides, Michael was able to let the horse stretch out enough without compromising on impulsion.

 

The water was fast approaching and Michael's mind was split. Half focused on the water jump whilst the other half was thinking and planning ahead for jump nine and the angle he was hoping to jump at.

 

The stallion flattened out, long strides eating up the ground as he gauged the distance he needed to jump in order to clear the water. Reaching his take off point, Crackerjack lengthened out further and leapt into the air, skimming across the water and finding the solid ground on the opposing side.

 

As soon as the chestnut landed, Michael was there, his seat, legs, weight and pressure to the reins all coming together to drive the stallion back together, build the impulsion whilst slowing the forward momentum. Crackerjack fought for his head, he didn't want to come back to hand, he was enjoying the bit of a gallop he'd been allowed and wanted to continue. His master though, had other ideas and slowly Crackerjack gave in.

 

Michael collected his horse up, ensuring he had the impulsion he would need in the body below and retaining it for as long as possible. He followed the line Treize had taken, riding the chestnut slightly wider in order to obtain a decent angle over jump nine and put him in a good position to clear the triple. He hadn't done a lot of angle jumping with the chestnut so was relying heavily on luck to play a big part in what he hoped would be a successful jump.

 

Judging that he's gone out far enough, Michael turned and brought his horse towards the jump. He'd decided to try and get the forty-five degree angle and lined up where he thought he should take off. Crackerjack was a little confused, he could see the jump ahead and yet they weren't approaching it as they would normally. He hesitated in his stride, unsure if he should be jumping this fence or going around it.

 

Feeling the hesitation, Michael rode his horse harder, keeping a steady feel on the reins whilst applying his leg and seat in an attempt to keep the chestnut on track. The take off point was fast approaching and now wasn't the time for any mistakes.

 

* * *

 

“Is he trying to do what I think he's trying to do?” Duo questioned, sitting on the edge of the sofa and watching the television intently.

 

“I think so,” came Heero's reply.

 

“Are they going to make it?”

 

“I don't know. I haven't heard much about this combination. They've been competing on the European circuit so they're pretty much an unknown quantity to me,” came Heero's voice as he continued to watch.

 

“Could someone enlighten me as to what it is you're thinking he's doing and possibly not going to do successfully?” Zechs asked with a look of amusement.

 

'We think he's going to try and do what Treize did - angle the jump,” said Heero.

 

“Ah. And why, pray tell, do you think he will have a problem with that?”

 

“I don't know if he will have a problem or not. Angle jumping isn't easy as I said before and not having seen much at all of this pair, I can't honestly say how they will go.”

 

“Guess we're about to find out,” Duo muttered and all eyes returned to the screen.

 

* * *

 

Crackerjack was still hesitant. While he trusted his master, he was still unsure of what he was expected to do. The jump was ahead, only they were approaching from a side on angle and Crackerjack remained confused as to whether he should be jumping it or bypassing. The signals he was getting from his master weren't all that clear to him and with only a few strides to go, the stallion was losing sight of the jump. Deciding his master didn't seem to know what he wanted to do, Crackerjack took matters into his own hooves.

 

Unable to see the jump any longer and therefore judge his take off point, the stallion did what he thought his master was asking; he ducked around the jump to the left side.

 

'Shit!” hissed Noin under her breath.

 

“Too sharp,” groaned Treize.

 

“Someone shoot me now,” Zoe moaned.

 

“Never mind shooting you, I'll bloody well shoot Michael when I catch up with him outside,” Phillip muttered. “He knows Crackerjack hasn't done a lot of angle jumping and shouldn't have gone for such a sharp one.”

 

“That's what I told him,” Treize said. “He was discussing the angles and such with me in the stables earlier. I did tell him if he was going to try it, to make sure he took a forty-five degree or larger, otherwise, this sort of thing would happen. I figured he knew his horse well enough to know what would suit them best.”

 

“Obviously, his brain isn't functioning too well.” Phillip folded his arms across his chest and watched as Michael brought his horse around again.

 

“Well, I hope he's learnt from that and doesn't try it again,” stated Noin. “I'll skin him alive if he gets another refusal.”

 

The rest of the team all looked at one another and silently agreed it would be in all their best interests not to say another word. They all knew that a second refusal would mean elimination and that was something they really couldn't afford to happen, not at this level of competition.

 

Michael wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. Crackerjack having ducked out to the side had taken him by surprise, he'd done some angle jumping with the stallion and had fully expected the horse to take the jump. Now, he was determined to make up for his error and complete the rest of the course without further faults.

 

Sitting down deeper, he rode the chestnut together, putting the past mistake behind him and focusing completely on the jump ahead.

 

This time, Crackerjack met the jump dead center, he shortened his stride and collected himself together, hind legs pushing off and soaring into the air. They cleared the jump with ease and as soon as the stallion landed, Michael was there with his seat and leg, driving Crackerjack forward and setting him up for the triple.

 

* * *

 

Duo groaned and shook his head. “Damn!”

 

“No, no, no,” hissed Heero through gritted teeth as he watched the horse slide out to the side of the jump.

 

“I take it, he wasn't supposed to do that?” Zechs said softly.

 

No, he wasn't. He was supposed to have jumped it,” replied Heero.

 

“What idiot would try a move like that if he knew his horse wasn't ready?” Duo growled.

 

“Obviously that idiot,” said Zechs, his tone slightly amused.

 

“He's really going to have to make up for that error in judgment,” stated Duo. “I wouldn't want to be him when Noin and the rest of the team catch up with him.”

 

“Let's just hope he doesn't make any more mistakes,” said Heero quietly. Heero knew that to be successful, one had to take risks from time to time, and this had been one of those times. Unfortunately, this time the risk hadn't paid off. Angle jumping was damn hard to pull off and was something you really needed a lot of practice at; and that practice should take part at home. Although, there did come a time when you had to put that practice into effect in the ring, Heero just wasn't of the opinion that the Olympics was the time to do it.

 

The three turned their attention back to the television where Michael had brought his horse around and cleared the jump at the second try.

 

* * *

 

The triple lay ahead, Michael grit his teeth and turned his horse slightly to meet the three elements as straight as possible. He knew it would be hard, but he was determined. Crackerjack could sense the mood of his rider, feel the tenseness and determination in the body that sat upon his back. He knew this was important and willingly allowed his master to dictate the terms. Feeling the subtle shift of weight, light pressure to his sides from his master's legs and the pressure on his mouth from the bit, Crackerjack adjusted his stride and built impulsion ready for the jumps ahead.

 

They approached the triple, Michael picking his line of approach and setting his horse up. The take off point was selected and Michael rode his horse as if the demons of hell were at his heels.

 

Crackerjack gave a grunt as his hind legs came through and propelled his body upward. His front legs tucked up and the poles flashed beneath his belly. They landed cleanly over the first element, Michael immediately riding the horse together. One stride and muscles were again straining under chestnut hide, pushing the bulk of the animal over the second element and landing clean on the other side. The third element was right there, the stallion shoving off hard and arching over the jump, forelegs reaching out for the dirt and digging in hard as hind legs followed. Once the hind legs touched down, Crackerjack gathered himself together and cantered away from the jump.

 

In the stands, Noin and the rest of the team all released their breath in a collective sigh. Noin was hoping and praying that the pair wouldn't make any further faults, it was going to be a close finish for the medals as it was, one more mistake could see their chances of a medal completely disappear.

 

“Thank goodness he cleared that,” remarked Phillip.

 

“Only three more and he's home,” said Zoe.

 

“That he is,” said Treize. “I really hope they can finish the rest of the course without penalties.” Treize snuck a glance out the corner of his eye at Noin and was relieved to see their coach appeared to be a bit calmer now - at least there wasn't any smoke coming from her ears so that had to be a plus.

 

“If I know Michael, he'll be majorly pissed at himself for that refusal,” Zoe commented.

 

“He should have had more sense than to try it,” Phillip muttered.

 

“We all make mistakes, Phillip,” Zoe said. “He was just trying to do the best he could, the same as the rest of us. Unfortunately for him, it didn't work.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Phillip sighed. “I'm sorry, it's not his fault. These things happen.”

 

“Yes, they do,” murmured Treize.

 

“Guess we should give him credit for trying, imagine if he had pulled it off,” Zoe said. “Besides, we can't talk, we all made faults too.”

 

“Okay, I promise not to have a go at him,” Phillip said with a shake of his head and a smile on his face.

 

“Good.” Zoe turned back to watch the last of Michael's round.

 

Treize leaned over to whisper to Phillip. “Word of advice, Phillip. Never argue with a woman, they will beat you every time.”

 

Phillip rolled his eyes. “A bit late with that, aren't you?” he chuckled.

 

“Better late than never,” Treize quipped and then returned his gaze to the pair in the arena.

 

Knowing he was probably going to be ripped a new one by his coach, not to mention his team mates, Michael was giving the remaining jumps all he had. He had to finish without further faults, he needed to redeem himself somehow.

 

Jumps eleven and twelve were cleared successfully and now all that remained between them and the finish was the wall. It loomed ahead of them, tall, red and solid. Michael dropped his weight into the saddle and applied his legs. Hands held the reins steady, containing the energy in the body below him. “Last one, Jack,” he murmured and took a brief second to pat the sweating neck. Then, it was back to business.

 

The stallion eyed up the wall and adjusted his stride. His master held him in check pushing his hind quarters underneath him and building even more impulsion. They reached the take off point and Michael released his hold on the reins. Crackerjack surged forward, hind hooves bit deep into the dirt, lifting the body up. Forelegs folded underneath as the stallion became airborne, arching over the 'brick wall', making the height and looking for the landing on the other side. Those forelegs unfurled and stretched out, seeking the ground below.

 

Michael kept as much weight off his horse's back as possible, balancing himself through his knees and ankles and staying as still as possible. Front hooves drove into the dirt taking the full weight of both rider and horse as they returned to earth. The hind legs followed and propelled the horse forward once more. Spotting the finish flags ahead, Michael gave the chestnut his head and galloped through the finish, cutting off the timer and signaling the end of his round.

 

The people began to clap and cheer, Noin heaved a sigh of relief.

 

“Four faults for Michael Rundell and Crackerjack representing Australia.”

 

* * *

 

Heero quickly noted the score down in his book and did a few calculations. The coverage went to a commercial break and Duo took the opportunity to refill everyone's mugs with the various beverages they were drinking. The television returned to the games, only switching to the track and field events that were getting underway. Noting the frown on Heero's face, Zechs raised an eyebrow and ventured a question.

 

“How are the scores looking?”

 

“It all depends on which scores the coaches opt to drop and how the remaining teams fare fault wise.”

 

“We know that,” Duo said with sarcasm. “What we want to know is just how close it is. Surely with all your figures there you can at least give us a pretty good guess at who is going to finish where.”

 

Heero sighed. “Sorry, I guess I just don't want to get anyone's hopes up.”

 

“Just give us the prognosis, Heero. We're men, we can take it,” Duo snickered.

 

Leveling a glare at his lover, Heero flipped the page in his book and checked his figures again. “Remembering that there are still rounds to go, at this stage it's pretty tight between the Germans, Americans, British and us.” Seeing his boyfriend's mouth about to open, Heero was quick to continue. “And no, I'm not about to even predict who will finish where.”

 

Duo shut his mouth again.

 

“It's back on,” Zechs said and managed to successfully distract the pair.

 

* * *

 

Noin and the rest of the team had met up with Michael outside the arena and the inevitable questions had been fired and answered. Noin had voiced her displeasure and concern at the obvious risk taking that hadn't worked, then complemented Michael on the remainder of his course. Phillip had called his friend an idiot, but conceded they had made up for their mistake and it was just one of those things.

 

Treize advised more practice at home before trying the maneuver again, but gave Michael points for having the guts to take the chance in the first place. Zoe hung back and waited until everyone else had said their piece and moved away before stepping forward.

 

“You idiot!” she hissed. “What the hell do you think you were doing taking a risk like that? You are aware of just how much is riding on your performance? We needed a clear round and you took a gamble. I seriously thought Noin was going to burst a blood vessel! Not to mention how worried I was.” Zoe paused for a second then lunged forward and wrapped herself around Michael. “Ah, what the hell,” she muttered and then took Michael's lips in a searing kiss.

 

Michael, to say the least, was stunned.

 

* * *

 

Noin and the rest of the team went back into the arena to watch the remaining rounds, Zoe went back to the stables with Michael and Peter to settle Crackerjack and check on the other horses. The British rider had completed his round and the French rider was half way through his. Noin discovered the British rider had suffered eight penalties and the Frenchman was currently sitting on four with the triple still to go. She settled back into her seat and added the scores to her current tally. She bit her lip as she studied the figures. She already had a pretty good idea of which scores the other coaches would be dropping and it was going to be an extremely tight finish.

 

The French rider made a complete mess of the triple and finished his round with twelve faults. There only remained the Chinese, Spanish, Indian and Korean riders to go and Noin knew that their scores weren't going to make much difference to the overall result.

 

Back in Australia, Heero was of the same opinion. He'd done the math, checked and double checked; and still came out with the same result. Whilst he had a pretty good idea of what the placings were going to be, he wasn't about to say anything just in case there was something he was missing, a coach dropped a score he didn't think they would, or there may be a protest or something else he wasn't aware of.

 

Zoe, Michael and Peter returned to the arena in time to see the Indian rider leave two feet in the water. They settled into their seats and asked the question everyone knew they would.

 

“How are the scores?”

 

“What are the placings looking like?”

 

Noin sighed. “Very close between us, the American, British and German teams. The British rider had eight faults.”

 

Knowing better than to question further, the trio remained quiet and watched the Indian rider pass through the finish flags with a total of sixteen penalties. The Korean rider entered the ring and everyone knew they wouldn't have to wait too much longer for the results.

 

The Korean rider's horse was clearly affected by the added height and width to the jumps and despite his courageous attempts at clearing them, he came out with twelve faults, and then it was over. All rounds had been jumped and it was up to the judge and officials to add up the scores and have their meeting with the team coaches to see which scores they were going to drop. Once that was done the scores could be finalized and the placings announced.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, that concludes the team showjumping competition. All coaches are requested to be present in the stewards room in half an hour. Results of the team showjumping and the individual placings will be announced in one hour's time with the medal presentations to take place in the main arena in an hour and a half. Thank you all.” The commentator's voice faded and the arena came alive with the buzz of conversation.

 

Ground crews moved in to remove the jumps and people began to move out to fetch refreshments or visit the rest rooms before the final announcements and medal ceremony took place.

 

* * *

 

“Well?” Duo demanded.

 

“Well what?” Heero returned.

 

“What are the placings?”

 

“I don't really know.”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

“No, I don't. It all depends on which scores are dropped and any other circumstances we aren't aware of.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Be patient, Duo. The coverage isn't going to stop without showing the results and the presentations.”

 

“It had better not.”

 

* * *

 

Noin returned from her meeting in the stewards room and the rest of the team all tried to read her face and body language to get a glimmer of the results. “Before you ask, I don't know. We went in individually, said which score we were going to drop and barring any protests and the like, we should have the official result very shortly. All teams are required to be mounted and in the main arena for the announcement in thirty minutes. I suggest you all get ready.”

 

There was a mad scramble as riders and grooms alike all fled for the stables to get their mounts ready.

 

Thirty minutes later, all teams were waiting in the warm up arena. The commentator's voice came over the public address system and the ring stewards motioned for the countries to start entering the arena as they were called.

 

They went in, in the order in which they had jumped. The German team was first, followed by the Italian, American and Japanese teams. Then came the New Zealand team. All teams rode four abreast, their country's flag carried proudly by a team member. The Australian team followed the Kiwis, Zoe carrying the flag and honored to be doing so. The guys had all decided she should have the privilege, not only was she the only woman in their team, but both Zoe and Periwinkle had shown courage and skill when jumping. After the Aussies came the British, French and Chinese teams. They were followed by the Spanish, Indian and Korean teams.

 

The arena was pretty full by now, all teams lining up in a huge semi circle with the medal presentation stand in the center. A hush descended upon the crowd as the officials walked out to stand in front of the dais and the commentator spoke again.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen. The results of the team showjumping competition is as follows: In twelfth place with a combined two round score of sixty-two penalties, Korea.” The crowd applauded. “In eleventh place with a combined score of fifty-four penalties, India.” The crowd applauded again. “In tenth place with a combined score of fifty-two penalties; China.” The crowd roared and cheered for their home country.

 

“In ninth place with a combined score of forty-eight penalties: Spain. In equal seventh place with a combined score of forty penalties we have Japan and New Zealand.”

 

The Australians all smiled and clapped along with the rest of the teams and spectators.

 

“Sixth place with a combined two round score of thirty-seven penalties; Italy.”

 

Treize was doing mental calculations.

 

“Noin wasn't kidding when she said the scores were close,” Zoe whispered to Treize.

 

“You can say that again,” Treize whispered back.

 

“In fifth place, a combined score of thirty-two penalties; France.”

 

* * *

 

Duo was on the edge of his seat, anxiously awaiting the final four placings. Zechs was pale, resisting the urge to chew on his fingernails. Heero was holding his breath.

 

“Please, please, please,” Zechs whispered to himself.

 

“In fourth place with a combined total of twenty-six penalties; Germany.”

 

“Yes!” Duo shouted. “They have to be in the medals. I knew it!”

 

Zechs gave a sigh but couldn't dispel the butterflies in his stomach.

 

Heero felt relieved. The Aussies had finished somewhere in the top three and would get a medal.

 

* * *

 

“Would the remaining three countries please come forward,” the commentator asked.

 

Stewards guided the three teams forward to stand in a line facing the officials and the dais for the medal presentation.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, only four penalties separate the three countries before you. The competition has been fierce and each of the riders and their horses are to be commended on their performances.” The crowd broke out into cheers and applause. Once the noise had abated a little, the commentator continued. “Without further preamble, the final placings. In third place and taking out the bronze medal, with a combined two round score of twenty penalties; Australia.”

 

Once more the cheers erupted. Noin and her team grinned from ear to ear, relief flooding them as the euphoria set in.

 

“In second place and taking the silver medal, with a combined two round score of eighteen penalties; The United States of America.”

 

“Well, shit. That was close,” Phillip said softly.

 

“And in first place and thus our gold medal winners, with a combined two round score of sixteen penalties; Great Britain.”

 

~ * ~

 

tbc...