A/N: So after 3.07, I decided that I could go one of two ways. I could write a fluff piece, or I could write a parody. For some reason, the parody idea just really hit home and seemed to grow with each passing day. This was the result. And while it's more of Wep's Adorable Psycho meets a Mikki13 story, I hope you enjoy the finished result. Thanks go to Wep for the loan of his awesome character; she really hits the spot in situations such as these. ;-)
Disclaimer: Not mine. Also, I want to make it clear that I think Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz are pretty awesome people. They were certainly very friendly to fans at Chuckfest. I'm not quite sure I understand what they're doing with the show, but in no means do I wish them such an, er, interesting fate. Nor do I wish it on Kristin Kreuk or Brandon Routh. This was just a way to vent.
~*~
Sarah closed her eyes and leaned into Shaw's expert hands. Rough and soft, warm and gentle, his fingers kneaded into the tight flesh of her shoulders, expertly massaging her skin in a way that caused her to relax and tense all at the same time. Because even though she was enjoying this, even though she could feel herself letting go under the caring embrace of her fellow spy, she couldn't help but feel that this was all wrong. This was all a mistake. Nothing was as it should be.
A week ago, she had been furious with this intruder for horning in on her team. A day ago, she had thrown a piece of plastic into the trash for fear that it would create some unspoken bond between herself and this man. And five hours ago, she had scolded him for even thinking about getting into her pants.
And yet here she was, leaning into his touch, savoring the sensation of his warm hands, relishing his proximity and pretending as if everything was okay.
What the hell was happening?
And for that matter, why the hell wasn't she with Chuck?
"Relax," he murmured into her long blonde hair, his lips grazing the top of her head. "You're so tight."
For some reason, the words had the opposite effect. Even hearing Shaw comment about her body caused her stomach to tie itself into greasy knots, her fingers to clench themselves into taut fists. After everything he had put the team through, after the holier than God attitude he'd exhibited during his time in Burbank, how had he suddenly gained the right to touch her the way he was touching her now? How had he suddenly gained the right to talk to her the way he was suddenly talking to her? And why was it that she felt as though she had fallen into some weird haze, some dark hole, and the last few months made no sense at all?
Gritting her teeth, she uncurled her fists and pushed herself out of the chair, taking a deep breath to control her growing unease.
"Sarah?" Shaw blinked in surprise, his hands frozen in mid-air. For a moment, Sarah had the wild thought that he looked almost like a two-by-four. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replied tersely, her brow furrowing even as her mouth grew dry. "I just have to get going."
Shaw shook his head. "But I thought –"
"Look, Agent Shaw," Sarah interrupted, forcing herself to look into his confused blue eyes. "I don't know what you thought was happening between us, but I can assure you that I have no intention of taking it any further than it's already gotten." I can't believe I even let it get this far. Again, the weird haze clouded in on her mind, eclipsing everything she thought she had known. It was almost the same type of feeling she got whenever she made a fresh, delightful kill. Only it wasn't another person that was being killed this time. For some reason, she had the crazy thought that it was her own character that was suffering the death. And as the thought permeated her mind, she felt herself shiver and break out into prickly goose bumps.
"I don't understand, Sarah," Shaw said, a shadow of hurt wafting across his features. "I thought you wanted this. I thought you were going to give me a chance." Taking a step toward the distraught blonde, he placed one of his wooden hands onto her shoulder and squeezed. This was a mistake.
In one smooth movement, Sarah grasped his hand in a vice-like grip and wrenched his arm behind his back. "Look," she snapped, a red hue coloring the haze roiling within her mind. "I don't know what happened here, or how you got me to let my guard down so completely. But it's not going to happen again."
Suddenly, Shaw broke out into maniacal laughter, his chest heaving with unsuppressed jubilance. "Don't you get it?" he said, laughing still harder when Sarah wrenched his arm tighter behind his back. "Nothing you can say or do will stop my blatantly clueless insinuation into your life."
"Excuse me?" Sarah snapped, her free hand twitching by her side even as her vision became blurred by the red haze of her thoughts.
"Don't you get it, Walker?" Shaw replied jovially, yanking his arm out of her grasp and spinning to face her. "I'm what's called a PLI. A potential love interest," he clarified when she furrowed her brow in confusion. "There is no stopping me. I will hook up with the lead female character – that's you, by the way – simply because I'm hot and it's a conveniently lazy plot device to create controversy, which supposedly drives the ratings."
Sarah's muscles tensed at Shaw's words, at the indifferent way he spoke them, at the broad leer spread across his pale face and the seductive glint within his sapphire gaze. "What are you talking about, Shaw?" she bit, her fingers twitching as she began to long for a sharp weapon.
"Does it really matter, Sarah?" Shaw replied, taking a predatory step toward the blonde. "Nothing that I say or do will change the inevitable conclusion."
Her breath emerging in increasingly ragged gasps, Sarah took a step backward. "Where is Chuck?" she demanded. "What did you do with him?"
"Don't you remember?" Shaw smirked, taking two more steps toward the female spy. "You sent him away so that you could be with me."
"No," Sarah shook her head violently, her heart skipping a beat when her gaze landed on a sharpened pencil. Sharp enough yet duller than the knives in her arsenal, it would create a satisfying amount of pain. "I would never do that. I love Chuck. He belongs with me."
"Come on, Sarah," Shaw replied, reaching his petrified hand out to grasp her flushed arm. "Why don't we stop talking and give in to what we both want? You know it's going to happen sooner –"
But before Shaw could finish, before he could even take another step in her direction, the spy twisted out of his grasp and grabbed the pencil.
"Or later," Shaw finished. And then he said no more, because Sarah had jabbed the pencil into his jugular vein and blood began to spurt from his neck.
"PLI that, bitch," she snarled, a wide grin spreading across her face when Shaw fell forward onto his knees.
"You can't kill me," he gasped as he pulled the pencil from his throat. Coming to his feet, he placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side, even while blood continued to pour from his wound. "For I am Two-by-Four Man." His mouth slid into a broad smile, and a shiny gleam sparkled upon one of his perfect teeth.
But it was already too late. Sarah was rushing for the stairs, intent on finding her computer nerd. Choking slightly on his own blood, Shaw collapsed into a nearby chair.
~*~
"Hey, Sarah," Morgan greeted her morosely when she pushed open the doors to the Buy More. "What are you doing here?"
"Where's Chuck?" she demanded, barely noticing the dejected slump of his shoulders or the downward cast of his eyes.
"In the back," Morgan answered, sighing heavily. "Making out with Hannah."
"That's what I was afraid of," Sarah bit, her heels beating a frantic staccato rhythm against the linoleum floor as she marched to the home theatre room. When she got there, when she saw what Chuck – her Chuck – was doing with the brunette bimbo, her entire body went rigid. Laying on the couch, her hands caressing every inch of Chuck's lanky frame, her lips hungrily devouring his perfect mouth, she was treating him as if he belonged to her. As if she had the right to do whatever she liked with him. With a feral growl, Sarah launched herself across the room and yanked the slut off her man.
"Sarah?!" Chuck scrunched his forehead in bewilderment. "What are you doing?"
"That's a good question," Sarah returned, her fingers finding purchase around Hannah's slender throat. "What were you doing, Chuck?"
"I was spending some time with Hannah," he cried, reaching out to pull Sarah's hand away from his girlfriend's neck. In response, the blonde's fingers simply tightened around their target, causing the other woman to choke and flail.
"Let go of me," Hanna pleaded, closing her hand over Sarah's wrist in an effort to escape.
"I don't think so," Sarah replied, glaring at her competition. "See, I don't really like it when other women come between me and my boyfriend. And I hate it when they think they have the right to touch him, to kiss him. To pretend like he doesn't belong to me."
"Sarah, please," Chuck interrupted, again trying to pull her hand away. But again, Sarah's fingers tightened around Hannah's throat. "This isn't right. You can't do this."
But Sarah wasn't listening. Tired of trying to choke the life out of this brunette skank, she flung her against the wall and reached for her knife. "It's okay, Chuck," she said lightly, the deadly tip of her blade glinting underneath the fluorescent bulb. "I'll make this as painless as possible."
"You don't have to make it painful at all," Chuck replied, stepping between Sarah and his fellow Nerd Herder. "You don't have to do it, Sarah."
Sarah's features twisted in pain at the way he was sticking up for the other woman, at the way he was willing to position himself between Sarah and Hannah. "Are you telling me that you care about this bimbo, Chuck?" she demanded. Even in spite of her ten years of spy training, she suddenly started to pout.
"No, no," Chuck said quickly, unaware of the fact that Hannah was straightening up and a malevolent gleam was entering her light brown eyes. "Of course not, Sarah," he smiled nervously. "I don't care about Hannah at all. Not at all."
"Then what were you doing with her, Chuck?" she appealed, caressing her blade with the edge of her finger. "Why were you all over her?"
"He was all over me," Hannah finally spoke up, coming to stand beside Chuck, "Because he likes me. I actually have a future. Unlike you, Yogurt Girl."
"Right," Sarah snapped, sneering at the other woman. "Because being an unemployed slut is much better."
"I'm not unemployed anymore," Hannah replied, smiling charmingly at Chuck as she wrapped her arm around his back. "Not thanks to my Chuck."
This was the wrong thing to do. The wrong thing to say. "You bitch," Sarah growled menacingly. And before Hannah could even blink, the blonde hurtled her knife toward her pretty head.
The blade flew fast and furious toward Hannah's throat, the air almost quivering with its momentum. But just before it pierced her tender skin, just before it punctured her pale throat, the Nerd Herder sidestepped the weapon, causing it to splinter harmlessly into the wall behind her. As she did so, as the knife finished its deadly trajectory, an evil smile formed upon her face.
Glancing at the knife in stunned dismay, Sarah shook her head. "What is your secret, Hannah?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.
"My secret?" Hannah replied, smiling innocently as a sweet dimple appeared on her left cheek. "I don't know what you mean, Sarah. I'm only a normal girl."
"A normal girl couldn't have gotten by me," Sarah growled. "A normal girl wouldn't have been able to get underneath Chuck's skin. A normal girl couldn't have dodged that strike."
"You're right," Hannah smirked, and suddenly there was a shimmer in the air between them. Standing behind the rippling curtain of air, Hannah's entire countenance appeared to shift and morph. And when the shimmer finally disappeared, her mouth quirked into an evil sneer and she reached behind her back, pulling out her own lethal blade. "I'm not a normal girl. I'm an evil spy sent by the Ring to shatter your happy team and capture the Intersect."
Sarah's eyes narrowed, her body tensing as she watched Hannah advance with the blade. "But that doesn't make sense either," she said, slipping into a fighting stance. "If you were really with the Ring, why didn't you capture the Intersect when you were still in Paris?"
The words seemed to give the Nerd Herder pause, and Sarah watched in confusion as the knife fell from her slender hand. "Okay, fine," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. Suddenly, there was a blast of smoke and a flare of light. Standing in the center of the spectacle, Hannah's head fell backward onto her shoulders and a coy grin spread across her face. When the smoke and the lights finally died away, Sarah realized that the Nerd Herder was no longer wearing her uniform. Gone was the white shirt and the grey tie. Gone was the black skirt and the pocket protector. In their place were a tight red dress, knee-high stiletto boots and black fishnet stockings. "I'm not a normal girl. I'm not an evil spy. I'm actually a skilled seductress hired by Shaw to seduce Chuck and break you two up. I'm here to ruin the abominable Charah. Are you happy now?"
"Hannah?" Chuck queried, gazing at his new girlfriend in horror. "What are you saying?"
But Hannah didn't have a chance to answer. Tired of the manipulation, tired of the games, tired of this common brunette thinking that she had any chance with Chuck, Sarah hurtled across the room and grabbed her by her shiny brown hair. So quickly did she move that Hannah never had a chance to escape her. "I don't really care who you are," she snapped, dragging her to the nearest wall and bashing her head against the plaster. "You can't take my place. You can't infiltrate my life. And you certainly can't have Chuck. He's mine, you brunette skank."
With each new sentence, the blonde bashed the vixen's head harder into the wall, causing her to scream as blood started to pour from her nose and mouth. And finally, when she started to go limp in her arms, she withdrew her knife and finished the job. It was only then that she allowed her to slip from her arms and onto the floor, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.
"Oh, my God!" Chuck cried, his eyes going wide. "You killed Kenny!"
"Kenny?" Sarah queried, raising a dubious brow as she wiped the blood onto her slacks.
"Um, Hannah," Chuck amended, his face going ashen as he considered the fallen woman. "Sarah, she didn't deserve that. She didn't do anything wrong."
"She didn't do anything wrong?" Sarah repeated, whirling on her boyfriend. "Her perfume is all over you, Chuck!"
"But you told me to move on," Chuck returned, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "You told me that you were interested in Shaw, and it was okay for me to go after Hannah."
"I would never say that," Sarah cried, her features contorting in fury. "I would never tell you to go after that – that brunette slut." But even as the words left her lips, even as she cast a disgruntled look toward the unfortunate Nerd Herder, she realized that maybe she had encouraged Chuck. Maybe she had caused this. Maybe she had told him to move on.
"None of this makes any sense," Sarah exploded, kicking at a stray pillow. "The last thing I remember – the only thing I remember – is being at your sister's wedding. And then everything else is a complete blank." Wracking her mind for any further details, her eyes narrowed in concentration as a thin crease spread across her forehead. They had been at Ellie's wedding. She had been dancing with Chuck. They had received Intel that Bryce and Casey might be compromised. And then . . .
Sarah sucked in a sharp gasp as a potential memory fell back into place. As she felt herself whirling backward in time, as fuzzy details began to take shape within her mind. As she remembered herself standing on a train platform in Prague, hopeful and anxious all at once. And then, just as suddenly as the thought began to form, a distraught pain pierced her chest and she wrenched her hand out of Chuck's grasp. "You left me on a train platform in Prague," she accused, punching him hard in the stomach before she could stop herself.
"Ouch," Chuck cried, tears prickling his eyes as he massaged his bruised abdomen. "What was that for?"
"You left me on a train platform in Prague," Sarah repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. "You just left me standing there, holding your tickets as you went off to live a life as a spy. How could you do that, Chuck?"
"I – I don't know," he replied slowly, folding his lips in thought. "I can hardly remember it. It's almost like –"
"Almost like some sort of strange fog," Sarah supplied, nodding. "I know."
"It was like . . . One minute, I was going to get on the train with you. You know how much I love you, Sarah," he said, stepping forward and placing his hands on her bare shoulders. A serious cast took over his features, an intense look of affection entering his cinnamon gaze. "You know I would never hurt you, right?" he prodded, looking deeply into her eyes. And when he felt as if she was truly hearing him, he leaned in and kissed her. Brushing softly, sensuously against her smooth mouth, he savored every inch of her perfect lips. Savored her taste, her feel, her smell. Savored the sensation of having her in his arms, warm and soft and altogether real.
When they finally broke apart, Sarah considered him for a long moment, the recent memory hanging over her like a dark cloud. But as she continued to look into his eyes, as she continued to register the affection reflected within his voice, she knew that he spoke the truth. She knew that her Chuck, the Chuck she had fallen in love with, would never leave her on a train platform. He would never make her feel like he didn't care about her. Like he didn't love her. He would never hurt her the way that he actually had. "Then what happened?" she prodded, relishing the feel of his hands upon her shoulders.
"I don't know," he shrugged helplessly, kneading her lower back through her thin tanktop. "One minute, I was going to get on that train. I was going to run away with you. And the next, it was almost as if I was being controlled. Like some midget with a bad haircut had taken over, and forced me to do something so out of character that it was like I'd become a different person."
"Exactly!" Sarah exclaimed. "It's almost like we've been controlled by some unseen force. But that doesn't make any sense, does it?"
"Not really," Chuck replied feebly, twisting his lips in consternation. "I don't get it."
"Well, I'm going to get to the bottom of it," Sarah decided, reluctantly slipping out of Chuck's embrace and striding toward the front of the store.
"Where are you going?" Chuck called, struggling to catch up to her.
"I'm going to do some research," Sarah stated resolutely, stopping in front of a computer. "There's gotta be something. Some sort of spy disorder, or mental defect, or puppet syndrome," she elaborated, clicking heatedly upon the keyboard. "Something that will help us understand –"
But what it was she wanted to understand, Chuck never found out. Because suddenly, her entire body went rigid, her fingers freezing in place over the keyboard. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened in shock, and an odd sound reverberated from the back of her throat. "Sarah?" Chuck questioned, reaching out to touch her arm. "Sarah, what's wrong?"
At the same time, Morgan appeared behind them. "What are you guys doing?" he queried, his attention focused entirely on the computer screen even as Chuck glanced his way.
In reply, the spy pressed a shaking finger to the mouse button, bringing a recent news article onto the screen. "I don't get it," Chuck stated. "What is this?"
But Sarah said nothing in response. She was too busy skimming the article. She was too absorbed in what it had to say. She was too ensconced in learning that her entire life, her entire existence, her entire world was really all a lie. Because as she read the article, as she studied the words, everything began to make sense. Everything began to fall into place. Why she was considered one of the top spies of the Agency when she couldn't even win a simple fight. Why Chuck had never been placed into a bunker, even though he had made more mistakes than she could count. Why she and Casey and Chuck were all still alive, even though they had presented the enemy more than enough opportunities to strike.
Somehow, someway, they were all part of a television show. And some guys named Fedak and Schwartz were writing their entire lives. Two men who looked like they hadn't had sex in decades.
God, was this why she often had cravings to undress and prance around her hotel room in lacey underwear? Was this why she often got into inappropriate fights with other women? Why she had decided to take Heather Chandler down in the shower rather than out in the hall? Hell, was this the reason that she was suddenly craving a good naked mud fight with the next female agent to cross her path?
"We're all being controlled by a television show," Sarah said in disbelief, scrolling through the article. "Everything we've ever known is a lie."
"But that's not possible," Morgan scoffed, staring at the screen. "Who would write a television show about the Buy More?"
"It's true," Chuck replied, browsing the article. "It's all true."
"And it makes sense," Sarah added, scrolling through the story. "For some reason, these guys thought they needed to spice up their show, to change the characters. That's why we've been acting so crazy. That's why we can't remember anything that's happened."
"So what you're saying," Chuck stated, a flash of anger coursing through his cinnamon eyes, "Is that it's because of these guys that I've got the –" he glanced at Morgan, "That everything's changed. That my entire life is so screwed up. That I never even got to finish Stanford."
"Worse," Sarah said, finally getting to the bottom of the article. "It's because of these two that we're no longer together, that we broke up in the first place. That you just made out with Hannah. And," she added, shuddering violently, "That I just let Daniel Shaw massage my shoulders."
"You let Shaw do what with your shoulders?!" Chuck exclaimed, his features twisting in hurt.
"Hey, you just let Hannah manhandle you," Sarah returned, and then she froze as she read what Fedak had told the reporter. "Wait a second here," she said slowly, staring at the words in disbelief. "That's why I let Shaw touch me? That's what you're telling your audience members? That's why I moved on from the love of my life? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"What is it, Sarah?" Chuck queried, trying to read over her shoulder.
"They think that I went for Shaw because he saved my life," she said, glancing angrily at Chuck. "But that's ludicrous. Shaw didn't save my life. He only carried me out of Castle. You're the one who got the antidote. And that's beside the point," she finished, gritting her teeth. God, if she fell for everyone who saved her, Agent Graham would have been giving her neck massages on a daily basis, Casey would be her sex kitten, and Carina . . . Not going there, she shook her head adamantly, then whirled around to face the two men. "We have to do something," she stated, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
"What are you two talking about?" Morgan finally spoke up, glancing from the computer screen to Chuck and Sarah, then back again. "Our lives are a television show? You're dating someone named Shaw? And you," he accused, looking at Chuck in betrayed dejection, "You just made out with Hannah."
"I don't know," Sarah said, even as Chuck grimaced in guilt, "But it's time to call for some backup." And with that, she reached for her cell phone and called Casey.
~*~
"What is going on here?!" Josh Schwartz demanded, yanking off his glasses and cleaning them on his t-shirt. "What are they doing?"
"I don't know," Chris Fedak shrugged, his brunette hair bobbing with the movement. "But I'm going to find out." Stepping toward the set of his television show, he snapped his fingers in an attempt to command attention. Unfortunately, the action seemed to have no effect.
Racing around the set in a state of pandemonium, doing things so off script that it caused their producers' heads to spin, Yvonne, Zac, Josh and now Adam were completely out of control. They were so out of control that it almost seemed as if they couldn't hear their producers' cries. It almost seemed as if they were unaware that they were being watched at all. "Zac!" Fedak cried. "Yvonne! Josh, Adam! What are you guys doing?"
But his actors didn't respond. They didn't say anything to him at all. They didn't even look his way. They were too busy conversing with one another. "Come on, you guys," Fedak tried again, Schwartz coming to his side. "What's going on here? Why aren't you following script? And," he added, remembering Kristin's disastrous scene with a shudder, "Why is Kristin Kreuk lying motionless on the Buy More set?"
But even with the questions, even with the demands, even with the livid expressions on both men's faces, the actors continued to converse. They continued to ignore. They continued to act off script.
Until something happened.
Slowly, very slowly, Yvonne turned to face Chris Fedak. Her blue eyes pierced his own blue eyes, her penetrating gaze so intense that it caused him to shiver. And when she turned her head to look at Josh Schwartz, when he had a chance to take in his other cast members, when he had a moment to collect his thoughts, he realized that it wasn't Yvonne at all. It wasn't Yvonne, it wasn't Zac. It wasn't Josh, and it wasn't Adam.
"I don't believe it," the Adam-lookalike muttered, and he reached for a gun. "You were telling the truth, Walker."
In response, the Yvonne-lookalike nodded grimly and extracted a lethal knife.
"Who are you people?" Fedak demanded, taking an inadvertent step backward as he eyed the weapons. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Don't you recognize us?" the Yvonne-lookalike spat, advancing menacingly in his direction. "We're your creations. We're the people you've been playing with for the past three years."
"No," Schwartz spoke up, shaking his head. "No, it's not possible."
"I'm beginning to realize that anything is possible," the Zac-lookalike stated sadly. "What I don't understand," he said, "Is why you thought it would be fun to ruin my life?"
Somehow, the words seemed to have a negative impact on the blonde. Turning to the Zac-lookalike with a frown, her fingers loosened around her blade. "Are you saying that everything that's happened has been a bad thing, Chuck?" she asked quietly.
Blinking, "Chuck" glanced at the blonde with an apologetic expression. "No, of course not," he said softly, smiling at her. "I would never say that, Sarah. Just that I'm not too happy with the circumstances under which we were introduced."
"At least we were introduced," Sarah replied, returning his smile as she leaned forward to brush a soft kiss onto his parted lips. The knife remained stationary in her grasp.
It was in that moment, in the moment when the people they'd believed to be Zac and Yvonne locked lips, that Fedak and Schwartz realized that they were in trouble. Everything they had feared, everything they had dreaded had suddenly come to pass. Their creations had suddenly come to life, and they wanted revenge.
"Look," Schwartz said, as his cast and crew members started racing out of the studio. "We didn't mean –"
"You didn't mean what?" Sarah snapped, pulling away from Chuck and glaring at him. "You didn't mean to make us wait three years to get together? You didn't mean to tease us every chance you got? You didn't mean to make me wait three years to have sex?"
"Well," Fedak interjected, holding up a hand, "It wasn't exactly like that. We were just trying to run a successful television franchise."
"Franchise this, bitch," Sarah snarled, and launched herself across the room toward the two men.
"What are you going to do with them?" Chuck asked weakly, standing beside Morgan as Sarah and Casey captured the two strangers.
"We're going to put them into a place where they can never cause trouble again," Casey replied, dragging them off to a side room.
Unfortunately, before they could finish their journey across the studio, before they could even figure out exactly where they wanted to put the two villains, a loud crash reverberated through the open space and a red and blue blur sped into their path.
"What in the hell?" Casey wondered, staring at the blurred spectacle with quirked brow.
"I think it's a bird," said Chuck, puckering his lips in confusion.
"No," Morgan replied, shaking his head. "It's a plane."
"No," Sarah said drily, gritting her teeth. "It's Two-by-Four Man."
Standing in their midst, his blue eyes taking in the scene, his blood continuing to flow from his wound, was Shaw himself. And he was apparently ready to fight.
"We're going to need more chains," Casey said gruffly. Sarah could only nod.
~*~
A few hours later . . .
"Come on, Chuck," Sarah commanded, sliding her hand along his warm, naked chest, "Loosen up."
"I can't help it, Sarah," Chuck replied nervously, glancing around at his surroundings even while he shivered at Sarah's touch. "What if people are watching?"
"Let them watch," Sarah growled, sucking his earlobe into her mouth. "We might as well give them something worth watching."
"But," Chuck tried, moaning quietly as Sarah's tongue flicked against his sensitive skin, "But . . ."
"It's okay, Chuck," she whispered huskily, her fingers traveling down his slick torso. "Even if our lives are only a television show, it doesn't mean we can't have some fun." And with that, she cupped him through his jeans and began massaging him hungrily. After years without Chuck's touch, after years of the helpless will-they/won't-they of their complicated relationship, she was going to have sex and she was going to have it now. Especially with the rush of adrenaline she was still experiencing, the incredible charge of electricity still rocketing down her spine every time she focused on that day's activities. The blissful feeling that always came with a fresh, clean kill.
And when she pulled on Chuck's zipper and slipped her hand into his jeans, he seemed to give up the fight as his own nimble fingers began some exploring of their own. Yeah, Sarah thought as her lips caressed Chuck's neck, This is much more like it.
Meanwhile, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away (AKA Southern California) . . .
"Oh, God!" Chris Fedak yelled, squeezing his eyes shut. "Make it stop."
"I can't take it anymore," Josh Schwartz cried, struggling against the metallic chains binding him to his straight-backed chair. "Please, I can't watch this episode another time."
"Don't they understand?" Fedak demanded, struggling against his own binds. "Don't they know that if we watch this repeatedly, our brains will slowly start to implode?"
"Hey, it's not that bad," Two-by-Four Man said, smiling delightedly even while the blood continued to pour from his throat wound, "I look hot."
As the other two men turned to glare at him, the disk skipped back to the beginning and Chuck v. the Mask began to play again. The terrified, painful screams could be heard throughout the studios.