So this is my first ever fic...the idea has been rolling around in my head for quite some time but I never put pen to paper...or rather fingers to keyboard. I want to give a huge shout out/ thanks to my BETA reader Ashley ( I knew having a best friend who was an English major would be useful to me :-D)
Also I do not own Chuck or anything related to it, because if I did it would not be ending...ever.
Sarah Walker did not cry. So why was she sitting despondently on her bed with tears coursing down her cheeks?
She knew the answer, but did not want to admit it, especially to herself. She fell back onto her bed and brought her long legs to her chest, hoping to find some sort of solace in her curled up position. Yet none came. "Damn you, Chuck." she murmured.
She hated herself for being unable to reciprocate the feelings that he obviously held for her. It wasn't that she didn't feel them; it was much more complicated than that. The CIA would never allow a handler/asset relationship. Hell, they barely allowed two spies to stay together romantically. If the CIA even suspected that she had feelings for him she would be reassigned so quickly that she wouldn't even have time to say goodbye. So she had to hide her feelings, and by doing so she hurt him. She had to hurt him, so that she could save him from being thrown into a bunker. At least that's what she told herself; it made everything hurt just a little bit less.
When she was alone, she would pray that maybe someday he'd understand that she couldn't return the love he had for her, because if she did the repercussions would not be ones that either of them could deal with. She couldn't, no, wouldn't, see him locked in a bunker. It would kill him. Not to mention her.
The only problem was that Chuck gave her everything every single day. And in return she would push him away, let him know that their relationship would never be more than a cover. But no matter what she had said or done to him the day before, he would come back the next day, maybe not with as much bounce in his step, but he would still come back and in one way or another, attempt to show her how he felt. In his doing so every day, she could feel her walls start to crumble. Chuck was so persistent. Unlike Bryce. Bryce was a good partner and they'd been in a relationship, but the love wasn't there. To her it felt like sometimes they were lovers only to fill the void and provide a warm body.
But with Chuck, everything was different. She had known that he was special the first day she met him: the day that he turned away from her, something that no man had ever done before, to help a little ballerina whose father had forgotten to place the tape in his camcorder to record his daughter's recital. She remembered the moment like it was yesterday:
"You ready?" Chuck said as he leaned in towards the young ballerina. "I'm usually in the back row" she timidly replied. "Why?" Chuck retorted. The young girl looked at him and earnestly said "I'm too tall, I block the other ballerinas." Chuck leaned in closer and looked the girl in the eyes "Can I tell you a secret? But you can't tell the other girls. Real ballerinas are tall."
Sarah was sure that that was the moment that she fell in lo- "Oh come on Walker, you can't even say it to yourself" she chided. The tears had dissipated and were replaced by a strong desire to become the cool, calm, collected personality that was Sarah Walker.
Sarah forced herself up into a sitting position, her long blonde hair trailing behind her and falling into her face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to find her bearing, only for the image of one Charles Irving Bartowski to pierce through the calm she was trying to procure. She let out a sigh and allowed the image of Chuck to occupy her thoughts. A tall and lanky frame clothed in your average Nerd Herd uniform with black high top Chucks to complete the ensemble, curly brown hair that was beginning to make funny animal shapes, a smile that you knew was genuine because his ears would raise ever so slightly and deep chocolate brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in: eyes that held his every thought and emotion, eyes that sparkled when they greeted hers. A small smile formed on her face. God she loved his eyes.
The sharp trill of her phone jarred her out of her reverie. Picking it up she saw the glaring face of one General Diane Beckman. Pressing the answer button she raised her phone to her ear. "Walker, secure."
"Agent Walker, report to Castle immediately. We have a situation," the clipped professional voice of General Beckman was there for that one brief moment, and then the line went silent.
Sarah sighed and rose to her feet. So much for spending the afternoon away from Chuck and his eyes and infectious smiles. Her afternoon would now be spent suppressing the urge to just run to him and let his arms envelop her.
As she walked out of the lobby of the hotel that she would consider her place of residence until the mission was over, and towards her car, Sarah expertly slipped on her mask, her spy mask; it allowed her to keep Chuck at arms length, and still protect him. She unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel of her black Porsche, and as soon as the engine purred to life she sped off towards Castle.
Reviews are appreciated. Let me know if you think I should continue with the story.
Love,
Emalee
