Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still do not own Chuck or any of its lovely characters. Booo
Most people would have interpreted the chewed up Swizzle stick dangling from Sarah's mouth as a sign of an agent hard at work. And indeed she was working hard…on holding her rage in as Shaw played a one-sided game of footsie with her under the table.
"I thought I made it perfectly clear that I wanted a strictly professional relationship." She snapped, trying to push his foot away.
"Aw come on, Walker, drop the act. I've read all the reports. Apparently, you have a nasty habit of falling for your partners." He leered. "Lucky me."
She felt bile rising in her throat as his foot rubbed circles against her bare calf. Hmm, maybe he'd leave her alone if she puked all over him. Before she could put her plan to the test, however, Casey poked his head into the room and instantly Shaw's foot disappeared. Sarah never thought she'd be so happy to see the grumpy Colonel.
"Hey it's eleven o'clock and I'm heading home now. You two coming?"
"Nah, I'll be staying the rest of the night." Shaw stretched and puffed his chest out. "I'm pretty busy here with team leader stuff."
Horrified, Sarah leapt out of her seat. Team leader stuff my foot! She didn't need a crystal ball to tell her exactly what Shaw was going to try and do as soon as Casey left. Without bothering to put away the files she'd been working on, she quickly grabbed her jacket and hurried out.
Pausing in the doorway, she whirled around and pointed her Smith & Wesson at Shaw who had risen halfway from his chair. "Take one more step to follow me and I will end you. Got it?"
Casey added a menacing growl as if to say "Me too."
Shaw deflated noticeably and shakily returned to his seat looking like a thoroughly chastised schoolboy. Smirking with satisfaction, Sarah left the underground base. That ought to teach him. Nobody messed with Sarah Walker.
~ * ~ * ~
She got into her car with the intention of spending the rest of the night in her hotel room beating the pulp out of a punching bag bearing Shaw's face. But for some reason she'd gone past the freeway exit for her hotel. Somehow she'd ended up at the beach and now she was sitting on the sand, watching waves roll in the pale moonlight.
He always used to say that the beach was the best place for introspection. So here she was, attempting to sort out her thoughts and clear her head. The first part wasn't that hard but the second was easier said than done. No matter how hard she tried there was one person she couldn't stop thinking about. One person whose face kept swimming to the forefront of her mind, bringing back memories of a time long past.
~ * ~ * ~
Barstow. They had been on the run, hiding from the government and, as they later found out, Fulcrum. As they slept, someone could have stormed into their seedy motel room with guns blazing and there wasn't a thing he could have done to protect her. Yet in his arms, she'd never felt safer. Being with him out there in the middle of nowhere, she'd never felt more at home. Her job, the only thing that had mattered for the past ten years, was dead. But as he rolled her over, pressing his lips against hers in a ferocious assault of kisses, she honestly couldn't care less about the CIA.
For him she had violated the cardinal rule of spying. In return, she got her heart ripped out, stabbed, stomped on, and that wasn't even the worst part. She'd fallen so far, been so unbelievably compromised, that she never saw it coming. The Prague debacle, though a failure in that he'd rejected her, turned out to be a much needed wake up call. Spies and love don't mix. She could try to be everything he needed but it would never be enough. Being on the run, taking on new identities, that wasn't a real life. It was just another mission. She would always be an agent first.
So she returned home and slipped back into her old routine, her old life. Over the next six months, a steady stream of missions helped her forget. By the time he returned from spy school, she had pieced her shattered life back together, rebuilt the walls around her wounded heart, and put him behind her.
~ * ~ * ~
Sarah would probably never understand why Carina had given her the security video from Stromberg's vault. After all, wasn't she the one that was constantly telling Sarah to stop mooning over Chuck?
Listening to his explanation had left her angry and shaken. He wasn't supposed to want to be a spy and serve the greater good. All she had ever wanted him to do was stay in the car and stay out of the twisted world of espionage. Why couldn't he see that? She just wanted him to be Chuck Bartowski, average nerd, living an average life. And there was the other thing. He couldn't love her. Shouldn't. In a different time and a different place, perhaps it was possible. But in their current situation, it was more important than ever that they keep their feelings at purely professional level. Anything above that could be dangerous for them all.
Seeing him with Hannah…well, Sarah had to admit that it stung a little. Chuck was the catch of a lifetime and she had to let him go. Nevertheless, he was making progress in severing emotional ties to her and that was all that mattered. Besides, if Chuck had to have "lady feelings" for anyone, Sarah couldn't think of a better person than Hannah. Even Casey agreed. As far as any of them knew, she wasn't a spy trying to kill or kidnap Chuck. She was smart, funny, cool, and most importantly, she didn't have to try to be normal. She simply was.
But why did he feel the need to ask her permission to pursue a relationship with Hannah? They'd already decided that they were going to be just friends. Did he think that despite this mutual agreement she would be jealous? Or was he still secretly in love with her? Suddenly she realized there was one loose end she needed to tie up.
~ * ~ * ~
Quietly, Sarah slid open the Morgan door and crawled into Chuck's room. He was sprawled on the covers of his bed, still fully clothed in his Nerd Herd uniform. Standing at his side, she couldn't help but notice how peaceful he looked. She had been starting wonder how much longer he would last before the missions began to take their emotional toll on him. A breeze drifted in through the open window and wafted the scent of Hannah's perfume from his clothes, reminding her that she hadn't come here to stare at him while he slept. That was Casey's job.
Sarah plucked a small white envelope from her jacket pocket and carefully rested the little package against the digital clock on his nightstand. There was no sense in keeping what had never really belonged to her in the first place. As she snuck back out and sped away into the night, she hoped that when he found the charm bracelet in the morning, any confusion or lingering hope would be cleared up. It was over.
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