A/N: Much gratitude goes to the awesome ndnickerson for her amazing beta. Thanks, hon!
Disclaimer: You know the drill.
~*~
The clouds churn into many multi-swirling wisps of vapor, gradually darkening until they hover almost imperceptibly in the ever blackening sky. Wrapping her arms tightly around her athletic frame, Sarah walks quickly through the Burbank parking lot, her shoulders tense with nerves. Her heels beat a disjointed rhythm upon the cooling asphalt (clack clack click clack), almost as if she's walking in time to the looming thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. Setting her jaw, she tightens her arms more forcefully around herself, refusing to give voice to the events of the last three hours. Refusing to admit that suddenly, everything has changed.
It was supposed to be different. She was going to stay and Bryce was going to save the world.
Releasing a sharp sigh, she pushes her key roughly into the door of the Orange Orange, eager to get down into the Castle and back into her work. She knows what will be waiting for her down there; knows that eventually, she'll have to give voice to her thoughts. But for now, all she wants to do is that which she knows best – devote herself to being a spy so that she won't have to admit that she knows the truth.
In this line of work, nothing is certain.
~*~
The door clicks shut with a barely audible metallic clang, cutting off the light creeping in from the Orange Orange and sending shadows skittering along the walls. Chuck glances quickly toward the source of the sound, a fleeting smile flashing across his face before he returns his attention to the monitor before him. Depicted on the screen is a grim-faced General Beckman, and Chuck finds himself standing straighter and pushing his shoulders back as he listens to her diatribe. His breath hitches only a little when Sarah joins the group.
Is it just him, or is she standing farther away than usual?
"Am I to understand," General Beckman intones, her lips tight, "that the Intersect has been destroyed and that Mr. Bartowski has uploaded the newest version into his head? And that this version has given him the skills to fight?"
"That's correct, General," Casey affirms, nodding sharply.
Chuck casts a quick look toward Sarah, his chest tightening when he takes in her stony expression. When General Beckman addresses him, it takes him a moment to come back to attention. "I don't understand, Mr. Bartowski," she's saying, as if she's talking to a small child. "I thought you wanted nothing more than to be free of governmental interference?"
"I did," Chuck replies, starting. "I do. I just . . ." He pauses and glances toward Sarah once more, frowning slightly when she doesn't return his look. "I couldn't let Fulcrum win. Not after what they did to Bryce." He inhales slowly before continuing in an even stronger tone: "Not when I had the choice."
"So you chose to become a spy," General Beckman states flatly, her brow arching just slightly.
"I guess I did," Chuck agrees, his tone laced not just with surprise but with resolve as well.
Beside him, Sarah stiffens.
~*~
As she registers the resolve in Chuck's voice, her muscles tighten involuntarily and a chill penetrates through her skin and into the depths of her core. Swallowing hard, she gazes inscrutably at the monitor, watching General Beckman weigh Chuck's words. Chuck, a spy. Chuck, a fighter. Chuck, willingly jumping into a fight and not running for shelter, leaving himself entirely open to threats, utterly exposed to danger.
How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you are that guy?
The statement floats through her mind, arising from a few hours before but sounding as if a distant echo from the past. Another image is not far behind: Bryce, still and pale, his blue eyes staring into nothingness. (Don't you touch him!) When Beckman finally speaks, Sarah's hands have grown slightly damp and she has to work to keep her face expressionless.
"Very well," the General states, her voice still emotionless. "Our next course of action will be to test your newly acquired skills in the field."
"Are you sure that's such a good idea, General?" Sarah speaks up before fully registering her intent to do so. "Chuck hasn't even been field trained yet."
When he turns to look at her, she keeps her gaze trained on the monitor. Her expression remains unreadable.
~*~
The inscrutability of Sarah's expression causes Chuck to shift uncomfortably, and a new pattern of shadows glides haphazardly across the floor. An uncertainty hovers behind his eyes as he studies the blonde spy who only a few hours before had danced openly in his arms. The feel of her body is still fresh in his memory, the look on her face still crisp in his mind. Almost as if she had something to tell him, some hidden secret she had wanted to share.
She wasn't gonna come.
Unbidden, the statement rises to the forefront of his mind, clouding everything he had thought he knew and causing his heart to skip. At the same time, however, it serves to stiffen his resolve. Bryce had died telling him that, died at the hands of the Ring. Regardless of how badly he aches to ask Sarah if it's really true, he owes it to Bryce to do whatever he can to put a stop this organization. He owes it to them all, really.
A look of regret passes across his face before he returns his attention to the General. "I'm ready," he says, jutting his chin forward. "I'll do it, General."
He hates himself for the look that enters Sarah's eyes.
~*~
Moments later, Sarah pushes outside the Orange Orange, the doors clattering closed behind her with an odd finality. Only moments before, she had wanted to throw herself into her work, and now she can't wait to get away from it.
"You should know that they've found Agent Larkin's body. He will have a decent funeral."
General Beckman's words emerge from out of nowhere, causing her stomach to tie itself into knots even while relief seeps into her chest. While she's glad to know Bryce will have a decent funeral – after everything he's done, after everything he was, he deserves that much – the thought causes a glacial chill to shoot down her spine.
Her heart aches for Bryce, but her entire body is focused on Chuck.
Two years ago, Bryce had sent Chuck the Intersect. Three hours ago, Chuck had willingly uploaded the newest Intersect into his head. And twenty minutes ago, he had openly declared himself a spy, ready to throw himself onto the nearest battlefield with only the untested Intersect to protect him.
Getting dead is an occupational hazard.
First uttered two years before, the words reverberate loudly within her head and cause her to shiver with their impact. As she jumps into her Porsche and jams her foot onto the accelerator, thunder rumbles overhead.
~*~
Lightning streaks across the sky as Chuck pushes past the doors of the Orange Orange, leaving one blowing open in the wind in his haste to reach Sarah. His chest constricts when he watches the black Porsche course furiously down the street, moving further away with each passing second.
She looked at him with concealed trepidation, her face darkening when he turned to meet her gaze.
Swallowing hard, he barely notices when Casey brushes past him, grunting when he notices the Porsche disappear down the street. "I guess Agent Walker had a hot date," he says nonchalantly as he walks toward his Vic, unable to resist one good dig. Chuck can only grit his teeth, the phrase "Cute, Casey" getting lost on the way to his lips.
"See you tomorrow, Bartowski," Casey continues, slipping behind the wheel of his car.
As the NSA agent disappears down the street, feelings of frustration and emptiness threaten to eradicate his otherwise determined demeanor. And when the clouds darken ominously and thunder once again rumbles overhead, he makes up his mind.
Jumping into the car he borrowed from his sister, he follows Sarah home.
~*~
The room is unnaturally cold and when Sarah unlatches the knives from her ankles and unholsters the gun from her waist, the sky outside turns black and rain begins to beat heavily against her window pane. The sound is so loud that she almost misses the timid knocking at her door. As it is, she squeezes her eyes shut and purses her lips, trying to pretend she hasn't heard it. But when the knocking becomes more urgent, she knows he isn't going away.
Her face automatically forms into an expression of detachment even while her pulse accelerates. "Chuck," she greets him when she opens the door. "What are you doing here?"
The question causes him to raise his brow and shoot her an incredulous look. She can feel the detachment grow at the sight. "I don't know," he says lightly, yet with an unmistakable hint of frustration underlining his tone. "I thought we might have some things to talk about."
She sighs heavily, her eyes focused on a spot just above his left shoulder. "There's nothing to say, Chuck," she says. She knows it's a lie, but she's unwilling or unable to tell the truth. The truth died four hours ago when the world stopped making sense.
~*~
A shadow crosses his face when he registers her tone, his stomach dropping when she won't look him in the eye. But at the same time, he refuses to back down. They've come too far, been through too much, for him to let it go now. Despite everything that's happened over the last day and everything they've lost – or maybe because of everything they've lost – an undeniable feeling of resolve fills his gut and he steps over the threshold and into her room.
"Sarah, please talk to me," he murmurs, reaching out and running his fingers along the smooth skin of her arm. The innocent, affectionate touch is reminiscent of one shared only a night before, leaving him breathless and causing Sarah to flinch and step away. Her expression becomes even more aloof, yet he can see the emotion beginning to flicker in her eyes.
She wasn't gonna come.
"Maybe you should go," she says hastily, and he feels a dull pain pierce his chest. "It's been a long day."
Chuck nods, but doesn't move toward the door. He knows he has to ask before his newfound courage fails him. "Just tell me one thing before I go," he says, feeling his throat convulse but continuing nonetheless. "Were you – Sarah, were you going to stay?"
~*~
Sarah's heart skips a beat even as her shoulders visibly tense. "Of course I'm staying," she says, still gazing blankly at the wall behind him as she forces back any trace of emotion. "You're still the asset. I'm still your handler."
Nothing has changed.
It's not the answer he wanted – it's not even the question he asked – and they both know it. It's a defense, a contraption meant to bolster the walls she can feel crumbling away. But the determination on Chuck's face never wavers. When he takes an inadvertent step in her direction, she has to keep herself from taking another step back. Instead, she allows her eyes to drift slowly to his face, a hint of caution playing along their surface. Nevertheless, the new Intersect seems to have given him new courage, and he doesn't back down.
"That's not what I meant," he says, swallowing hard.
He sounds less sure of himself than he looks, and she has the sudden urge to give him what he wants. But the words fade before they can be spoken, her expression hardening slightly. She can't do this; they can't do this. Not anymore.
"Chuck, we don't have time for this," she states, crossing her arms over her chest as a hint of annoyance mingles with the caution in her gaze. "You should go home."
~*~
But Chuck isn't going anywhere. Taking a hesitant step in her direction, he refuses to break contact with her fiery gaze. "Just tell me," he beseeches, his face twisting into a look of supplication, "Were you going to stay?"
Sarah's expression remains hard, yet Chuck doesn't miss the unconcealed emotion reflected within the depths of her eyes. A brief spark of hope flashes through him, and he takes another step in her direction. But: "It doesn't matter," she states, her voice as hard as her expression.
"Yes, it does," Chuck chokes, shortening the space between them with another step. His tone is verging on begging, but he doesn't care. He needs to know. "It matters to me. Please, Sarah. Just tell me."
"Yes," she flares, and Chuck's eyes fly wide in shock. "Yes, I was going to stay. But that doesn't change --"
But before she can finish her sentence, Chuck is closing the distance between them and grabbing her shoulders, fervently pushing his lips against her soft warm mouth.
~*~
Sarah stares at him, her body rigid as a deep yearning fills her core. The rain pounds furiously on the roof of the hotel, battering the foundation in time to the thoughts pulsing through her head. As her body begins to respond to Chuck's gentle, feverish kisses, as her fingers thread through his curly brown hair, she finds her mind going through every reason that she shouldn't be doing this. Chuck's still an asset. She's still his handler. Feelings of this magnitude would only get in the way.
Feelings can be an asset to the asset.
But she pushes the thought away, stiffening once more. And she realizes that there's something else stopping her, something causing cold tendrils to prickle through her chest. She has the strangest feeling that she's on the edge of an abyss and one step in either direction will change everything.
Even if maybe she wants it to change.
Taking a deep breath, she pushes back from him and opens her mouth to protest.
But when she pulls away, he leans forward and whispers into her ear: "Please, Sarah. Just this once, let me in." The warmth in his voice acts as a salve to the cold prickling through her chest. His breath tickles the surface of her ear, causing goose bumps to break out onto her arms. And when he grazes his mouth across her chin, up the soft skin of her cheek and onto her parted lips, all thoughts of protest suddenly flee her mind and she slowly begins to kiss him back.
~*~
A thrill of triumph rushes through him when Sarah relaxes in his arms. His heart hammering wildly, Chuck runs his fingers along the line of her jaw, deepening the kiss. When he starts to suck on her lower lip, she mewls and allows him access, pushing her tongue into his mouth. His stomach knots in anticipation and a shiver shoots down his spine. Moving his hands to clasp her waist, he pulls her flush against his trembling body, gliding his tongue along every contour of her mouth before beginning a heated duel with her own.
She tastes as good as he knew she would, and he immediately feels himself hardening. "Sarah," he breathes, breaking contact with her lips for only a minute before she pushes her tongue back into the recesses of his mouth. Almost without thought, he tightens his grasp on her waist and pulls her even closer, grinding his groin against her hips. When she moans, all rational thought escapes.
~*~
She's not sure how they got this far, but suddenly she's pushing Chuck into a sitting position on the bed and straddling his lap. When she brushes against his hardened length, her breath catches in her throat and a prickle of heat shoots from her stomach into her groin. Curling her legs around his waist and lifting her arms, she gives him silent consent to remove her shirt. She can't stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief when he acquiesces to her demand.
He employs a gentle hesitation in fingering the remaining pink satin bra, and her lips quirk upward into a smile. Leaning forward, she captures his earlobe in her mouth, feeling a slight thrill as he gasps when her teeth graze his skin. And when she rubs her breasts against his clothed chest, her smile widens at the sound he makes. Slowly, he reaches behind her and undoes her clasp, pushing the material from her shoulders. Rubbing sensuously against his groin, she guides his hand to her chest.
~*~
Chuck's slowly becoming unhinged, hardening with each brush of Sarah's concealed sex. When she lifts his hand to her bare chest, he bucks his hips, eliciting a guttural groan. Not one to be asked twice (at least in matters of pleasing beautiful blonde spies), he flicks his thumb over her tender nipple, moving his mouth to nuzzle her neck. His heart lifts when she leans her head to give him better access, and he slowly moves his mouth down her throat and onto her pert breast, nipping lightly before sucking it into his mouth. The sound which emanates from her throat is all the reward he needs.
He's wanted this for so long. And it's pretty clear from her actions that she wants it, too. He feels a short burst of disbelief, but quickly pushes that aside when she begins running her fingers along the small of his back. Disbelief can wait. The only thing that matters is the feel of her in his arms and the sounds she's making every time he touches her.
Freeing his other hand from her waist, he allows it to drift across her bare stomach, causing her to shiver as it connects with her skin. Then, ever so gently, he reaches two fingers into the waistband of her jeans.
~*~
As Chuck's surprisingly nimble fingers begin to explore her body, Sarah almost forgets to breathe. And when he moves to unbutton her jeans, the thunder crashes outside her window and she starts to pant breathlessly in his arms.
She's never wanted anyone to touch her so badly.
This time, he doesn't make her wait. Meeting her heated gaze, he rotates his body so that he can tip her back onto the bed. A plethora of emotions flows between them as he settles her onto the cottony mattress. Affection. Desire. Need. And something deeper. Something so intense that she has to look away before she allows him to see how vulnerable she has become.
For a moment, she fears he's noticed her hesitation. But then he begins to slip her jeans down her trembling legs, and all fear is forgotten. All that registers is the feel of his fingers along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. "Please, Chuck," she gasps, spreading her legs apart.
In answer to her plea, he reaches for the waistband of her panties and gently slides them down.
~*~
"God, Sarah," Chuck breathes, his expression almost reverent as he takes in her naked form. "You're so beautiful."
The statement causes an attractive blush to spread across Sarah's face, and Chuck feels himself growing harder at the sight. Keeping her gaze locked within his own vibrant brown, he reaches between her legs and pushes a finger into her velvety folds, slipping it along her damp sex. When she inhales sharply and arches toward him in response, his face lights up and he slips in a second finger.
He's never wanted to please anyone so much.
Pushing his fingers deep inside of her, he crooks them at the knuckles and starts to thrust. Her breathing becomes ragged, her body writhing under his touch as her skin begins to glisten with sweat. "Let go, Sarah," he whispers, leaning over to suck a tender nipple into his mouth. His heart skips when she starts to move her hips to meet his hand, and he moves his thumb to stroke her clit in time with their thrusts.
When she finally throws her head back in ecstasy and screams his name, he can't help but grin in shy triumph.
~*~
Every nerve ending sparks to life as wave after wave of heated pleasure washes over her, traveling from her belly outward into her limbs. Falling backward onto her pillow, a slow smile spreads across her face as she watches Chuck grin happily back at her. A fullness seeps into her chest and she raises her hand to stroke his cheek. Once again, she can feel herself on the edge of that abyss. It's both frightening and exhilarating, and she feels the strangest urge to simply let herself go.
But then her instincts kick in and she feels herself taking a mental step back. A gradual slyness creeps over her features, disguising her momentary vulnerability. Suddenly, she flips Chuck over and rocks backward onto her heels, moving her legs to straddle the startled computer-nerd-turned- spy. "You're wearing entirely too many clothes, Mr. Bartowski," she says, bending forward to nip playfully at his ear.
"Maybe there's something you can do about that, Agent Walker," Chuck replies, his voice strained as her naked body brushes against him provocatively.
"Are you sure that's what you want, Chuck?" she asks, her voice lilting as she runs the tip of her tongue along his ear.
Chuck bucks his hips and whispers huskily, "I'm game if you are."
Abandoning her post at his ear, Sarah grins crookedly and makes quick work of his shirt. She then leans down to run her mouth along the bristly skin of his chest while moving her hand to cup him through his jeans. In response, Chuck groans loudly, thrusting upward into her palm. "Please, Sarah," he says, and it's his turn to beg. Thoroughly enjoying herself, Sarah chuckles softly and reaches down to discard his jeans and boxer shorts.
The rock hard cock which greets her causes her breath to hitch, and she feels herself becoming increasingly wet. Clasping one hand around the length of his shaft, she studies his reaction as she flicks her thumb over the head and begins to pump him in her fist. Now he's writhing under her touch, his guttural moans causing her pulse to quicken. When she rolls a condom along his length and slowly guides him inside of her, she knows she's gone. But somehow, she doesn't seem to care.
~*~
He begins to thrust into her slowly at first, careful not to push too fast too soon. But when she vigorously begins to rotate her hips so that his cock slides deeper into her wet, eager folds, his hardened shaft massaging her clit with each new rotation, he moans and grasps her hips, his movements becoming increasingly frenzied. She fits him perfectly, her velvet walls tightening upon his cock with every thrust.
She's riding him with abandon, her breasts bouncing in time with their thrusts. As their smoldering gazes connect, he's left breathless when he realizes that he's never seen her more open to him.
The thought causes the pressure behind his balls, within his belly, to build to an almost unbearable level, and he grips her hips tighter as sweat forms upon his brow. "Sarah . . ." he moans, knowing he cannot hold on much longer. He doesn't know how he managed to hold on this long at all.
Moving his hand to her clit, he rubs his thumb in slow motions over the hardened nub and pumps deeper and faster into her core. When her satiny walls begin to convulse around his aching shaft, a sense of complete relief washes over him as he pushes deep within her center and spills himself within her silken depths.
~*~
Chuck cries out her name and Sarah bites lightly into his shoulder, her walls pulsing spasmodically around him as white hot sparks of pleasure shoot quickly down her spine. This is incredible. Her entire body is relaxed, and when his climax is complete, she collapses on top of him, burrowing her head into his chest. She has never felt more alive.
But when he speaks, the familiar prickles of cold return to her chest. Laying his head onto her pillow, he brings his mouth to her ear and whispers, "I love you, Sarah."
Her eyes fly wide and her heart seems to stop. She opens her mouth to reply, but closes it just as quickly. A second passes, then two and three. She opens it again, but still no sound emerges. Finally, Chuck draws away and rolls out from underneath her, onto his side. Immediately, chill air blows across her bare skin where his warmth had been only seconds before. She tries again to open her mouth to say something, maybe to protest, but again no sound comes out.
Just as a sense of emptiness begins to engulf her, threatening to consume, he wraps his arm around her torso and pulls her closely to his side. "It's okay," he says softly, his breath tickling the side of her neck. "You don't have to say it back." And he kisses her in the nook of her throat.
A sense of longing washes over her – longing to snuggle closer into his embrace, longing to kiss him back, longing to tell him that she, too, feels the same way. But something holds her back. Her chest tightens as an overpowering emotion floods through her. Ten years as a CIA officer have taught her to carefully guard her emotions, to keep a stoic front in all situations. Until this moment, she hadn't realized just how intensely her training had become embedded.
The mental abyss hovers before her, but somehow she cannot bring herself to jump.
So despite how deeply she longs to be vulnerable with Chuck, she settles for resting in his arms and allowing him to hold her close as he slowly drifts off to sleep. His breathing slows to an almost hypnotic rhythm, causing her muscles to un-tense as she relaxes into his embrace.
It is only after he is asleep that she is able to whisper the words: "I love you, too, Chuck." Instinctively, he tightens his arm and pulls her closer against his chest as the rain outside slows to a light drizzle.