Disclaimer: If I owned "Chuck," Chuck and Sarah would have hopped on that train in Prague, and would still be riding around Eurostar like the young, in-love fools they are. :P

A/N: I wrote this fairly quickly, but obviously got inspired by the fantastic train scene and the fantastic music they paired with it. "Backwards Walk" by Frightened Rabbit happens to be my favorite song from Midnight Organ Fight, so I encourage you to check it out. Also, I haven't written in the past tense in a long, long time. It was weird, lol.

i'm working on my faults and cracks
filling in the blanks and gaps
and when I write them out they don't make sense
i need you to pencil in the rest
- "Backwards Walk," Frightened Rabbit

This wasn't happening like she'd planned.

His kiss wasn't as receptive, his smile not as joyful.

And he was pressing his train ticket back into her fist with a resolve that she hadn't expected.

But it was the look in his eye, not his refusal, that nearly broke her heart. She couldn't read him anymore, couldn't tell if his rejection was affecting him as much as it did her, or if he was simply trying to let her down easy.

So she tore herself away, held back the tears as she boarded the train. She found a window seat on the opposite side of the tracks, farthest away from him. But the bracelet gleaming on her wrist taunted her, reminded her of days lost forever. Leaning her forehead against the cool glass, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

But, even with her eyes closed, trying to forget about it was useless; he consumed her thoughts.

This is simple, she had told him, clutching his hand like it was her last hold on reality.

It was the truth. Once she'd stripped away everything else, all that was left was him. Loving him had never been the problem; it was always the excess – the duty and the responsibilities and the rules. After all the complication, being able to see clearly really was simple.

All she needed was him. She could live forever on just his kisses, traveling from city to city, living from hotel to hotel, changing from identity to identity. Their lives would be theirs and theirs alone.

But perhaps the irony was that, when she finally found the courage to scrutinize their relationship and realize that she wanted – deserved – more, he got cold feet. Or decided to be a big damn hero instead.

"May I punch your ticket, ma'am?"

Broken from her thoughts, she looked up at the porter. Seeing his uncertain smile, she shoved a hand into her coat pocket for her ticket. Unfortunately, she found two instead of one.

Fumbling, she managed to hand him just one ticket.

After punching it and handing it back, he lingered, his eyes soft and concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked softly in Czech.

She sighed, looking up at the kindly porter. He was middle-aged, maybe in his late fifties, with graying hair and wire glasses. She smiled, unconvincingly, and said, "Thank you, I'm fine."

He pursed his lips, not seeming convinced. Finally, he asked, "He did not come?"

Her brow drawn in feigned confusion, she replied, "Who?"

"The man your extra ticket belongs to."

She regarded him silently for a moment. "Maybe he will join me on the next stop."

The porter smiled sadly. "We try to hide our heartbreak, but our eyes always give us away. And your eyes, my girl, are clearer than the blue sky on a cloudless day."

Inhaling deeply, she asked, "Are you going to tell me that I'll get over him?"

"No," he shook his head, chuckling quietly. "I will only tell you to not forget what he stirred in your heart. For the moments he made you feel something deeper than yourself are the moments worth cherishing."

He was gone, down the aisle and calling for tickets, before she could say another word.

She looked out the window, somewhere between Prague and Budapest, just as it began to rain.

But the porter was wrong.

What hurt the most was not leaving him standing at the depot. It was leaving him and knowing that she'd see him again, see him when his training was through and they'd be forced to work together once more. All the while her heart would be aching for him, and all the while he wouldn't even know.

Because the life he'd chosen would destroy him. It was a kind of life that gutted a person, left him empty.

From the moment he had refused her offer – from the moment he had downloaded the new Intersect – he had ceased to be her Chuck Bartowski.

So she could no longer be his Sarah.

Her mouth set in a grim line, she unclasped the bracelet around her wrist and dropped it into her coat pocket.

No, nothing was as she'd planned.

Her hotel room was cold, much too cold.

The maid must have come in and turned on the air conditioning before she'd arrived. Shivering, she dropped her bags, rubbed her arms, and strode across the room to shut off the air. She wanted nothing more than to collapse onto her bed and sleep until the following afternoon.

But there was one thing she needed to do first.

Locating her black travel coat among her luggage, she rooted around in the pocket until she found what she was searching for. Walking over to the dresser, she gently lifted the lid of her jewelry box.

One last look in the mirror, one final chance to change her mind as she held the metal dangling between her fingers. The charms shone in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the window, sending glimmers of light dancing onto the opposite wall.

A deep breath, a determined swallow.

She thought of him in Prague, training to become the ultimate spy, and her decision was made.

When she dropped the bracelet into the jewelry box, lifted her hand, lifted her gaze to the reflection, Sarah was gone.

All that remained in her place was Agent Walker.