Permissible

A/N: I was surprised that I actually kind of liked the new coach enough to write about her, although probably for no other reason but the look on Summer's face when she went all new-age on them. But, you know, with a little character development she's really not so bad. Takes place after 'Free People' obviously.

Disclaimer: Almost forgot this part, although I think it should be blatantly obvious by now that I do not own Make It or Break It.

Summary: Darby knew what she was getting into when she came to The Rock and, like it or not, there was just one thing that she couldn't condone.

Permissible

Despite her 'Live and Let Live' attitude, there was one thing that Darby Conrad just couldn't condone. It wasn't like she'd come to The Rock without knowing what was going on there – without knowing about Emily and her musician or Lauren's messy business with the defector, and certainly not without knowing about Payson – but she wouldn't inflict them with the destructive, all-consuming training she'd endured going into the 2000 Olympics. She wanted them to have a life outside of gymnastics and if that meant boys and parties and who knew what else, then so be it.

But those were boys – silly, immature boys without any idea what they were doing or how important these girls were. This was something different and something that could do far more harm than some presumably charming eighteen year old boy.

It was the elephant in the room, stalking her most promising gymnast around The Rock like a 4.6 tonne shadow.

Not that Darby could really blame her. She could see the appeal there. She was just fifteen years old going into the Sydney Olympics, and Sasha Belov and Marty Walsh were like two gorgeous gymnastics gods. She would have killed to have just one of them know their name, so she had to give Payson her moxy for doing what nobody else had been brave enough to do and actually kiss one of these untouchable gentlemen.

Which was, of course, the problem.

"Payson, I think you and I should talk," she opened once she finally managed to get the young gymnast to one side.

"No, I don't think so," Payson disagreed.

"Payson," Darby said as sternly as she could manage. Payson rolled her eyes and followed reluctantly up to the empty office.

"Look I understand that Steve Tanner hired you to be the coach here at The Rock, but quite frankly I don't need you," she said as soon as the door shut behind her. "I have a coach."

"Sasha," Darby guessed, shifting uncomfortably.

Payson tensed, her expression flitting between nostalgic warmth and physical pain. It was obviously far more serious than Darby thought.

"I am my own coach," Payson said finally after an uncomfortably long pause. "I know what I'm doing. Your only job is to make sure I don't get hurt and if today has shown us anything, it's that you can't even be trusted to do that."

There was a clearly a lilt of disdain in her voice and Darby could read the dark undertones in her speech. "You're not him," she said with her eyes, her stance, and her aura. "You'll never be him."

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Darby insisted. She could tolerate insubordination. It would only drive Payson to become a better gymnast and that was a small price to Darby for seeing the young girl succeed.

"Then what?" Payson asked tiredly, crossing her arms. The gesture was almost protective, as though she sensed exactly where this conversation was going.

Darby swallowed nervously, surprised that a sixteen-year-old girl was capable of being so intimidating. "I . . . uh . . . Lauren told me what happened," she offered awkwardly, her resolve to speak freely and frankly with Payson going right out the window.

Payson scoffed derisively, tossing her head back in annoyance. "It's not how she makes it sound," Payson muttered. "If you believe Lauren's version of the facts I'm his secret mistress and Sasha threatened a truckload of officials just to get me on the National team. Is that about right?"

"More or less," Darby replied.

"It wasn't like that," Payson said quietly, shaking her head. "It was my fault, not Sasha's. He was just doing his job."

"Really?" Darby questioned sympathetically. "Because you said the only thing left for me to do as your coach is to make sure you didn't get hurt. It doesn't look like Sasha did that."

"He did what he thought was best," Payson said immediately in his defence. The words were completely automatic and Darby wondered how much she actually believed them and how many times she had told herself that Sasha was only doing what was best for both of them.

Darby nodded, but kept pushing. "And what do you think?" she asked in a tone that conveyed acceptance and a completely lack of judgment.

Payson froze and Darby knew she had made the necessary breakthrough. It was the one question nobody had bothered to ask the young gymnast. Not even when the kiss business had first happened – no one had bothered to ask Payson what she thought or how she felt and they had all just assumed that they knew exactly what was going on in the young girl's mind.

"I think he's a coward," she said in a tiny voice, glancing away as though that action would protect her from the effect of her words. As though that would somehow separate her form her next words. "And I hate him."

"Good," Darby said confidently. "That's all I wanted to talk to you about."

Payson glanced up in surprise, unsettled by Darby's sudden retreat. "That's . . . you didn't . . ." she tried, trailing off several times before finally deciding to ask a question of her own that no one had given her the opportunity to ask. "Does it get easier?" she said, her eyes full of naïve hope.

"Love?" Darby asked in response. "It depends," she shrugged.

"It's like gymnastics," she said, finding the perfect analogy. "Sometimes it's easy, but it's usually the hard stuff that's worth more in the end. The pain is how you know that it meant something.

"It wouldn't hurt if he didn't mean anything," she finished softly.

Payson finally met her gaze, her expression filled with something almost akin to respect. "Thank you," she said quietly and left.

It was a relief to see that she was making some sort of headway, even if it was in the smallest possible way. Darby knew she would never truly be Payson's coach, but at least she could do this for her.

Because if there was one thing that Darby Conrad couldn't condone, it was the silence.

~FIN~