Just a little one-shot I thought up after Chuck vs. The Santa Suit. Don't jump to conclusions, I am NOT pro-ChuckXBeckman, wait until you read the whole thing. The more I think about it, the more highly possible this seems to me. How many of you agree? R&R
Beckman pov
I was out of uniform for the first time in a long time, it seemed. The Bartowsky's and Casey lived in a very nice neighborhood, and the snow looked really – what was the word? – pretty on the fountain and stones of the walkway. Chuck's sister and her husband were having the time of their lives with their baby, and my agents didn't seem to be having such a bad time themselves.
Chuck and Sarah were talking quietly together, and I felt the tiniest prick of something in the back of my mind. I believed it was called guilt. But I had no reason to feel guilty – no that I would ever admit to having a reason to feel guilty – I had just done what I needed to do for the sake of the mission. I realized I had been walking over to the newlyweds, and stopped myself. My spy instincts caused me to (accidently) eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Chuck, you should know that when I was locked up in Castle….Shaw kissed me." Sarah was saying. Chuck looked away. Come on, Chuck, I thought. Our little secret.
"And you should know that Beckman…kissed me." Chuck replied.
Damn. I cursed, hating the fact that married people seemed to tell each other everything. The twinge in the back of my mind was back, and I tried to ignore it. Kissing Chuck had meant nothing. Nothing…but everything at the same time. Because the man I had kissed before Chuck was very similar to Chuck.
I remembered his accent, his strange way of speaking as if he took nothing in the world seriously. I remembered the way his eyebrows moved seductively whenever I felt something close to an intimate emotion. I remembered how he had coaxed the woman out of the emotionless soldier I had become. I remembered his love, his passion…
…his rejection.
"I can't do this anymore, Beckman." I winced at the formality in his voice – the finality in his voice.
"Why not? We can still make this work." I pleaded, cursing my weakness. He took my chin in his hand and tilted my head up, kissing me passionately one last time.
"It's too much like Romeo and Juliet, darling. And you know how that ended."
He had walked out the door and never come back. He sent money and other things – not for me, I didn't need them. He sent them for our daughter. Our daughter who I abandoned to live with a nanny after it was certain that he wasn't coming back. I like to think of myself as a strong person, but that was the weakest moment of my life. I have never forgiven myself for leaving my baby girl.
He was strong in a weak sort of way. He was a leader who never liked to think of himself as such – until he changed… He was funny and caring. He was a friend as well as a lover – as well as a husband. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never forgave myself for being so broken up over his loss that I failed to see what was really happening inside his brain. I didn't see what was destroying him until it was too late.
I, Beckman, the toughest general in the CIA, had fallen for a man who tried to destroy the organization I had devoted my life to. I had fallen in love with Alexi Volcoff.
Sooo…?