A/N: Hello, peoples! Man, seems like forever since I've posted/updated anything, huh? You've all probably forgotten all about me...which is why I make myself write at least once a month, so that I'm never completely gone. Here's my monthly update. Read, enjoy, and review. ;-)

Also, thanks to all of the people that helped me in some shape or form. You know who you are. :)

I would like to say too that this isn't my normal fic. I don't have a Carrie Underwood reference nor do I have inanimate talking objects...which is sad...so I mention them in the author's note. Free game. Haha. Plus, it's better than my summary being: French toast and a guy named Bob...right??? :P

And please excuse all errors. I either did that on purpose and/or I just didn't see them. Mention them in your review and/or PM me and I'll fix them...unless they were made on purpose. Without further ado, I bring to you...Sarah vs the Meaning of Love. :D

Sarah Walker was in her hotel room, sitting on her bed, silently going through her box of memories. She had recently taken it out of storage from the storage facility at the CIA headquarters because she remembered something important was in there. Something that she hadn't looked at for a long time. Shuffling through baby clothes, old yearbooks, toys from when she was little, and a mint first edition copy of Crisis on Infinite Earths that, if anyone asked, she would deny she owned, she finally found what she was looking for. Two journals. One that her mom wrote to her for when she got older and one that she wrote as she was growing up. She pushed the box aside and picked up the two journals. She looked at them for a long time. Both of their covers were well-worn.

"Okay," she said, more or less talking to herself, "I need the meaning of love…and the dictionary is no help. Journals, I'm counting on you."

She took a deep breath, giving herself a moment to mentally prepare herself to go back in time. To read the notes her mother wrote to her. To read the notes she had written to herself. When she felt ready, she opened the first journal.

Dear baby girl,

I wish that I could have been there to watch you grow. To watch you smile and laugh and enjoy life. I'm sorry that I wasn't around for you when you needed me. I tried my best to fight, but I guess since you're reading this, the cancer finally got me.

Your daddy is a wonderful man. He's smart and caring, but he has problems. And I'm sure now that you're all grown up, you've realized this. I'm sorry for that too, but your daddy loves you, honey. And I know that he'll take extra good care of you. He'll make sure that you never get hungry and that you'll always have a place to sleep. But I'm writing this journal for you when you get older because you'll have some questions that you won't be able to ask your father and that I won't be around to answer.

I love you, baby. I always have and I always will. Keep being that special girl, I mean, woman that I always knew you'd become.

Love,

Mommy

Sarah tried fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes, but one got away and slid down her cheek. As she wiped the tear away, Sarah turned the pages of the journal to the part she knew that she needed to read.

Hey sweetie,

Guess the day has finally come, huh? You think you're in love. And, of course, you have a ton of questions. Questions that for whatever reason you feel uncomfortable asking your father. That's okay. That's what this journal is for. So here goes nothing...

Remember when you were two and you told me that you would never fall in love? That you would always live here with me and your father, no matter what? Okay, you probably don't but since you're only four (as I'm writing this, that's what age you are. And currently you're sleeping next to me in the bed. We're waiting for Daddy to come home from work) I don't have a lot of material to work on. So, anyway, when you told me that I said that you were wrong. That you would fall in love, but you didn't believe me. Now that the day has come for you, I can't believe it. I'm really happy for you, honey, and I wish I could be there with you.

Instead of telling you how you should feel, I'm going to give you my description of love. And then, I've already made this deal with your father, every few years, your daddy will sit you down and tell you to write what you think is love. Use that to guide your heart, baby. If you're really in love, you'll know. Trust me.

I think that love is a very broad term, but for me it's being with the people I like. In a romantic relationship, it's that too, but there's a different connection that one that you would have with your friends or your parents. People say that when they're in love they can't live without that person. I say that if you're in love you can live without the person, but you don't want to. You love waking up to that person every morning. Love going to bed with that person every night. Love seeing that person happy. And when they're sad, it makes you sad too. You can't stand it when someone hurts the ones you love and you'll do anything to prevent that.

To me, sweetie, that's what love is. I know it's not much to go on, but love is different for everyone. That's why I'm going to have your father make you write those journals when you get a little bit older. You know your heart better than anyone. Just trust it.

Sarah carefully laid her mother's journal down and picked up her own. The one she had written all of her thoughts about love in. Opening the journal to the first entry, the one she wrote when she was seven, she continued reading.

Dear stupid diary,

I don't know why daddy's making me write about love. I don't even know what that is. In the movies like Snow White or Cinderella the princess always has to get saved by the prince. I don't want to be saved. I can take care of myself. If you have to be saved to be in love, then I'm never going to fall in love. Never.

Sarah smiled. She remembered writing that. It was a week before her first con. The day was rainy and she was complaining about having nothing to do. She kept begging her dad to take her somewhere out of the house, but he wouldn't. Finally he promised her that he would take her to get ice cream if she wrote in that journal. When she showed him what she had written, he look disappointed, although then she didn't know why. But he took her for ice cream like he promised, and she forgot all about the journal until the next time her dad brought it out.

Dear diary,

I'm eleven now. And I think I've met the boy I'm going to marry. His name is James Curtis. He's twelve. We sit together at lunch even though he's in a whole grade ahead of me. He plays with me at recess too. Everybody keeps telling us that we're in love and I think we are too because yesterday at lunch he gave me his cookie because Daddy didn't give me one in my lunch and then when I tried to give it back he wouldn't take it because he said that he wanted me to have it.

Sarah's smile grew. She remembered James very well. He was her first love. He was always really sweet to her and she had really thought that they were going to get married. But it didn't happen because the next year she and her father moved out of town. She and James kept in touch for a little while, but the connection soon waned and was eventually broken. Though all the memories of James that she had were all very good one, and she liked that.

Sarah flipped to the next entry. One that was dated as the day of her thirteenth birthday.

Dear diary,

Today I turned thirteen. I had a birthday party, but evil Lizzie had a birthday party today too, so only like five people came to mine. Carrie wanted us to play spin the bottle because she said that they were going to play it at Lizzie's party. I didn't want to look like a dork, so I agreed to play. So it was me, Carrie, and Ashley as the girls and Bobby, Nick, and Sam as the guys. I got to spin first and it landed on Nick. I was happy about that because Nick is really, really cute. So we both kind of met in like the center of the room and everyone else was staring at us. I closed my eyes because that's what they do in movies. I thought he was just going to kiss me, you know? But instead he like shoved his tongue in my mouth and started moving it around. So I pushed him away from me and ran out of the room. Everyone went home after that, but I don't care. Anyway, that's not what love is. Love is like the opposite. I think love is about patience. I didn't want Nick to shove his tongue in my mouth like he did (even though Carrie called a minute ago telling me that's what people who are in love do). I just wanted him to kiss me like normal. He should have waited until I was ready. He shouldn't have rushed. Oh, well. I don't like him anymore.

Sarah remembered writing that entry. Remembered how violated she felt. How pressured. She didn't like it when she was thirteen and she didn't like it now. On missions when she had to get close to a mark, she felt used and cheap. She did her job well, like she was trained to, but she detached herself from the situation. Concentrating on the mission at hand. She wished that the missions she went on, the ones that entailed her having to seduce a mark, didn't remind her of her first time. Of the night she lost her virginity.

The entire first paragraph was crossed out, but Sarah remembered what it said. So she read from where she knew it began.

Dear diary,

I don't know why Daddy's making me write this stupid journal. He says it's my punishment for what happened tonight, like I haven't been punished enough. God, I'm so stupid. I should have known not to do that. Ugh. I'm only sixteen. Why did I have to rush??? I don't even know Matt that well. And I'll never know him that well. He's a rich kid. A jock. I'm a nerd. I don't fit in with him.

Today I made a HUGE mistake. It all started after gym. I should have known then, but I just didn't think it would happen to me. Anyway, all the girl were in the locker room changing their clothes. And all of them, or at least the popular ones, were talking about Matt Bomer. He's the typical jock. Handsome. Popular. Rich. He's not a total idiot but he's not smart enough to be a dork like me. So they were all saying that he was going to have a party tonight and that at parties Matt likes to fool around with girls he likes. That they hoped one of them would be the girl he picked or whatever. Well I guess they saw me listening or something, like I could help it, and so they started talking to me. I wanted to run away but I couldn't so I just stood there listening. They said that I should come to the party. That maybe Matt would pick me. Of course, now I know they were just kidding around. Why would he pick the dork when he could have one of them??? But I was kinda happy that they thought I had a chance.

See, I've had a little crush on Matt for a year. Ever since Daddy and I moved here. Matt was nice to me at first and he's really hot. But, like, I don't write his name all over my notebooks or anything. I just...like him.

Well, I tried to say no to the girls but they wouldn't leave me alone about it. So I agreed to go. Just to get them to stop bothering me. I had to lie to Daddy to go to the party. He thought it was just a normal party. Like a sleepover. He wants me to make friends because I don't have enough or something. I just can't. I have some friends, but it's not like I can invite them over here or anything. And besides, I don't need that many friends.

So, whatever, I went to the party and it wasn't even what I expected. It was…worse than the parties in the movies. There were so many people. I…didn't know what to do. No one that I know was there. Just all of the popular kids. I was confused at first but then I remembered why I was invited. I almost left then but I remembered what I told Daddy. He wasn't expecting me for a few hours and I couldn't lie twice to him in one night. He'd know. Daddy's a good liar and nobody can spot a lie like a good liar. So I just stood there, not knowing what to do Some kid offered me a drink and I took it.

Then like from out of nowhere, Heather and her friends came up to me and they were all like pretending to be nice…which was weird. They hate my guts for some reason so they're never nice. Anyway, they took me over to Matt.

On the way over, they kept whispering in my ear what they wanted Matt to do to them and that maybe he would do some of those things to me. Maybe. If I was lucky. And that they kinda thought that tonight was my lucky night. Again, I don't know why I didn't realize Heather and her friends were just being jerks. Like they've hated me ever since I got here but suddenly they act all nice. There must have been a reason. I just…didn't see it. Well, when we finally got to Matt, I was blushing really bad. Like my whole face had to have been red. The things that the girls were whispering to me were like nasty and they made me blush. I mean, who wouldn't? But like Heather started making fun of me, like normal, saying that I didn't know anything about sex and that Matt should pick her and not me. Well, that made me mad. So I did something stupid. The thing that caused this whole mess.

I kissed Matt. Just like…in the movies…where the guy and girl…French kiss, I guess it's called. Anyway, I didn't like want to. Not really. I just wanted to prove that I wasn't the nerd that Heather and everyone else calls me. That I could get someone like Matt. Well, I did. I just got more of him than I wanted because he started running his hands like all over my body and it felt weird but he wouldn't let me push him away. And everyone was staring, including Heather and her friends, so I didn't try to push him away too much, you know, because then I would have been like a chicken. So we like stood there kissing for what seemed like a long time then he stopped and looked at me. I felt scared and violated and a little drunk.

I had drunk like one cup of beer before Heather found me because some guy like offered it to me and I couldn't refuse. Well, guess I can't hold my liquor because I started feeling dizzy and stuff when Matt looked at me. I thought he was going to hit me or something for kissing him or at least tell me to leave his house. But he didn't. He smiled at me and asked if I wanted to go upstairs. I said yes.

I wanted to go upstairs…to escape from all of the people downstairs…not to do what we did up there. I didn't want that. But I said yes, so I had to do whatever he wanted. That's what he said, I think. Or…someone said it. I don't remember who exactly. I think it was Matt. Anyway, when we went upstairs he took me to his parents' room. And that was just creepy. Like why didn't he take me to his room? I mean, he did say someone else was "using it" but it was his room. I don't know. But we were in his parents' room when it all happened.

He started kissing me again and I felt a little better about it because we were alone but it was still weird since we were in his mom and dad's room but I just kinda ignored that. Then he started walking towards the bed and since we were still kissing I had to like walk with him. All the while he was like putting his hands all over my body. Just everywhere. Right before we fell on the bed, he took my shirt off. I felt…I don't know the word…violated, I guess but we kept kissing and stuff anyway. After we kissed and I was even more naked, Matt got up and went to like his dad's dresser or something and got a condom. That's when I knew what was going to happen. Like I thought about it before but I never thought that it would actually be me. Not with Matt. Or anyone from school. Just…you know, like in the movies…all special. But it wasn't special with Matt and I knew it wouldn't be. He just like…wouldn't let me leave or do anything really. He just kinda did what he wanted. And it hurt. I…there was blood. I'm sure of it.

And I don't think it's supposed to hurt. I never heard anything about pain. Just that there was this time when you…I don't know…like feel really, really good. And that didn't happen. It just…was bad. I felt like crying but I didn't. I just let Matt do whatever he was doing until he stopped. I don't know why I didn't push him off of me. I should have. I guess I still just wanted to fit in. I...well…I don't know. He kinda stopped what he was doing for a minute and looked at me, but I didn't see love or anything like that in his eyes. I'm not sure what I saw, really, but it wasn't that. He asked me something, or told me, but don't remember what it was. I don't know why I felt so drunk. I only had like half a cup of beer. That's not enough to make someone feel like I did, is it???

Well, anyway, after Matt said whatever he said, I started…moaning or something, I think because that's what he wanted me to do. But…I don't know…I don't remember why. I just did. Then like right after that, Matt was done and he got off me. Just like that, it was over. But I was kind of glad. I didn't like what Matt did to me. It just felt all wrong. Not like it should. Well, afterwards, we just left his parents' room and then we went back downstairs. Heather and her friends kinda looked at me funny and then asked Matt if he really did it with me. When he said yes, like the whole room froze and looked at me. Like I was a freak or something.

That's when I realized it was all a joke. No one thought Matt would actually do anything with me. And they especially didn't think he would have sex with me. He didn't even think he would. But he did. Everything else that happened after that is kinda a blur. But I remember Daddy coming to pick me up. And now I'm here, writing this journal about what love is. And I think that love isn't about sex or kissing or anything like that. It's about…this is going to sound so stupid…but I think when people have sex they connect on an emotional or even spiritual level. It's not just physical. Not like what happened with me and Matt. Something special. Something I won't regret afterwards. So I think love is a deep connection with someone. And respect. There has to be respect between the two people. I'm not sure if any of this even makes sense, but for right now, that's what love is to me.

Sarah sighed. She remembered writing that. She was angry and sad. She just scribbled something down. She didn't really care what it was. She never thought that years later she would be reading it, trying to find the answers she so desperately hoped were in those few pages. But now, years later, here she was, hoping that what she had written when she was younger could help guide her through the trials she faced today.

Am I in love with Chuck Bartowski? she asked herself, as she turned the pages of the journal to the final entry.

Dear diary,

I'm in my twenties now and a lot has changed since the last time I've written. I work for the government and my life is great. I love my job. It's really exciting. I meet a lot of new people and I learn new skills. It's trying at times, but I think that it's worth it. Now that Daddy is no longer a major factor in my life because he is currently…somewhere else, my job is all I have. It's…me. And I know that I'm writing this journal stuff to tell my future self what I think love is so that I'll know for sure that I'm in love but I honestly don't think I'll love anyone more than I love my job. I mean, I have a boyfriend now. He works for the government too. His name is Bryce and he's amazing. We met on a job and, I guess, we were just like instantly attracted to each other. Oh, by the way, I look a lot better than I did in high school. I'm no longer the nerdy, ugly person that I was. Bryce even says I'm the hottest woman he has ever laid his eyes on, but I know that's mostly just to get me into bed…which he does often enough. I don't think Bryce and I are in love, but we like each other a lot. And maybe that's what love really is. Not wanting to get married and have children but just liking the person you're with and accepting them for who they are. Bryce and I have that. It's nice. No pressure to do anything but live in the moment. Although, I have to say, sometimes Bryce gets a little controlling and I don't like that. But, like I said, I'll probably never fall in love. As long as I have my job, I'm happy.

Hey, future me, since you're reading this and all, I guess you have found someone you love. That's awesome. I mean, I never thought I'd fall in love but it's cool to know that it's real. And if you're wondering if you're really in love, ask yourself why you took the box that contains this journal out of the storage facility? Takes a lot to get stuff out of there, you know. Or if you don't like that method, does your heart skip a beat when you hear the guy's name? Do your knees go weak whenever you just think about him? Can you stop thinking about him? Is he sitting there next to you? Do you wish that he was? Listen to your heart, you'll know.

Wow, I sound corny. But it's all true. Trust me, I learned from the best…you.

Sarah exhaled the breath that she had been unconsciously holding. The journals had helped her. And she was happy to finally have the answer that she couldn't find. The answer she had been running away from. She knew now, without a doubt, if she loved Chuck Bartowski. The best part, it didn't scare her at all.

She turned the page of the journal to a blank sheet of paper. She grabbed a pen off of her nightstand and started writing.

Dear friend,

This will be the last time I ever write to you. I know what love is now. I know what I want in a man. And, most importantly, I know that I'm in love. I never thought that it could actually happen for me. I'm messed up. I know I am. And that's what makes this love even more amazing. Chuck Bartowski is the guy that I want to spend the rest of my life with. He accepts me for who I am. He tries to save me and even if I protest and tell him that I can save myself, he tries to save me anyway. He gives up so much to make sure that I'm happy, to make sure that his family and friends are happy, to make sure the world is safe. He's patient and he waits for me. He's still waiting for me. I would give up my job for him. The most important thing in my life is no longer being the best agent. I…can't even begin to describe how he makes me feel. Or how much it hurts that I can't tell him how I feel. I've tried running away from this for too long now. I love Chuck and there's nothing I can do to change that. All I have to do now is tell Chuck I love him…

Sarah stopped writing. She looked over her words and realized that she shouldn't be telling herself or her diary what she should be telling Chuck. She laid the pen and journal aside, grabbed her keys, and walked out the door. She had made up her mind. She was going to tell him. They would find a way to make it work. They always did.