Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or any intellectual property related to the Chuckverse.
Alter Egos
Chapter 1: Agent Sarah Walker-Bartowski
He never listens. I should be used to this after six years of working together and nearly two of marriage, but I still can't suppress the rage or the heat. The heat is rolling up quickly and I know that tonight is going to be one of those nights.
Other couples role play to spice up their sex lives. Chuck and I don't have to strive to be nearly as creative…we simply let the agents loose. I can feel her unraveling inside, her hard edges replacing my soft dulcet tone as I call his name, "Chuck."
I hear the shower turn off and I think of how long it must've taken him to wash the blood out of his hair. Logically I know it was a minor scalp laceration and that it only bled so profusely because of the location of the wound, but the fact that he was almost shot because he was trying to 'save' me makes me want to slap him. Unbidden, the thought of losing him washes over me and I amend my priorities…first I'm going to fuck him senseless, and then I'm going to slap him. Agent Walker accepts the mission and Sarah Bartowski steps aside.
When he emerges from the bathroom he's got a towel slung low on his hips, but it's not nearly low enough for my mood…and it won't be until it's pooled on the floor. His gaze is hot, locked with mine and equally pissed.
"If you're looking for an apology or a promise that I won't do it again, you can forget it. You're my wife, I love you and I refuse to stand idly by and watch you die! Period."
He's closing the distance between us and we begin to circle each other, drawing in closer but always alert of the other's position. We're at the end of the bed, barely outside each other's grasp when he tells me, "I'm not going to have this argument…again."
The conviction in his voice combined with the pleading in his eyes, almost dissuades me…that is, until a pink rivulet of water snakes down his forehead and onto his cheek. I lower my eyes a fraction and loosen my shoulders to display resignation, "I don't want to argue Chuck." He steps closer, gently tilting my chin up to see my face. There's a flash of surprise across his features when the fire in my eyes burns into my voice, "I want to fight." I wrap my foot around his calf, grab hold to the offending towel with one hand, and shove him back onto the bed with the other.
Author's Note: This is a short drabble that became dual perspective piece, with the Chuck POV and resolution in the next chapter (I'll post it this week). This was basically my attempt at getting back into writing after a LONG hiatus, so any feedback is greatly appreciated.