A/N: Does anyone remember the Who Are You Challenge from nearly a year ago? Maybe some of you do. Well the results for that challenge have finally been released, and I am now allowed to post the story I wrote for that challenge. This is that story, unchanged since it was originally written back in September of 2009.
He's wearing a deep blue T-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and his favorite shoes on his feet. His hair is starting to make those funny animals shapes that she loves so much. His scent is intoxicating. His smile lights the room. And in his soft chocolate eyes, she sees her heart.
She forgets about the food that sits in front of her. She's not interested in it. That can wait until later. Instead, she just stares at him. She can't tear her eyes away and she doesn't want to even try. But she's not just looking at him, she's studying him. She wants to memorize every minute detail of the man seated on the other side of the little table in her room. She never wants to forget. She wants this moment to live within her forever.
In one moment she's sitting at the table watching him, and in the next, they're standing together in the middle of the room. Her hand is on his shoulder, and his is on her hip. Her body is pressed against his and she can feel his warmth radiating through her. She delights in the sensation.
The table is bare, but she doesn't remember clearing it. Nor does she remember eating. Even the food that had been on her plate has been forgotten. But that doesn't concern her at all. All that matters is that she is in his arms. Nothing else is important.
She hears the music that begins to play softly in her ears. It's barely audible, but soon the melodic sound of the beautiful piano solo grows until it fills the room. It's hypnotic and Chuck is pulling her into a dance.
She goes along willingly, letting him dictate their movements. She closes her eyes and allows Chuck to take her wherever he wants. She gave all control over to him. It is his with which he can do whatever he pleases.
They glide along on the floor as their dance takes them all across the room. They fit together as one, a perfect mix-matched pair. He in his causal jeans, T-shirt and a well worn pair of Chucks. She in an elegant black dress and heels. She wouldn't have it any other way. It is perfect.
She wants to hold him like this forever and never let go. She wants the music to go on and on, never stopping. She wants to feel his skin against hers eternally. She wishes his heart could beat alongside hers forever. But the piano fades and the dance ends.
They are sitting on her bed now. The room is dark except for the light that enters in through the window. Her shoes are gone and so is her dress. Now she is wearing lacy purple lingerie and he has been stripped down to his boxers and T-shirt.
She doesn't remember how they got into this position or how they came to be in their current sate of dress, but again she doesn't care. She doesn't care at all. As long as he is with her, she isn't bothered by those little details. If she suddenly found herself alone on the moon with him, she wouldn't be worried and she wouldn't try to figure it out. She would be content in knowing that they were together.
His hand softly brushes her cheek as he tucks her golden hair behind her ear. For a moment, his hand lingers there. It makes her cheeks burn with color. She waits in nervous anticipation for him to make his next move. When he does, his fingers lightly glide across her skin, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck as he ever so gently pulls her to him. When only a sliver of air exists between them, he closes the distance with his lips.
The kiss is slow and filled with a sweet, gentle kind of love. Every moment of contact between their lips is savored. Sarah locks the feeling of his kiss in her heart. That way, it would never be forgotten.
His fingers are dancing through her golden strands. She loves the feeling. His other hand gently rests against her cheek. The feel of his hand on the delicate skin of her face is even more amazing than that of his fingers in her hair. She melts into him and the world shrinks away until all that is left is their kiss.
As she kisses Chuck, Sarah doesn't seem to need to breathe. No matter how long it goes on, she never needs to break the contact between their lips to take a breath. His kiss is like oxygen to her. She feels like it could go on forever, and if Sarah had her way, it would.
She doesn't remember when the kiss ended or how long it lasted, but now she finds herself lying under the covers, Chuck's warm body spooned against hers. His arm is wrapped around her and she holds his hand. The way in which she held his hand was as if her life depended on it, as if their joined hands kept her soul intact.
She scoots herself closer to him. She can't get close enough. Her back is now pressed firmly against his chest. But she still doesn't feel close enough. She tugs on his arm, wrapping it more tightly around her waist. She needs to feel his presence. She doesn't want to forget how it feels to lie against him, wrapped in his arms. It's too important to her that she remembers this feeling.
She listens to his steady, rhythmic breathing. He's asleep. She loves that sound. She treasures it. It is music to her ears. Before Chuck, she never knew the sound of someone sleeping could be so beautiful. But with him it is. This too she wants to remember. She wants to remember everything.
All too soon she's waking up and she's all alone. Chuck is gone. His clothes aren't splayed out on the floor and neither are hers. Every shred of evidence of his presence and any indicators of the moments they shared have vanished.
The bed she lies in is different. The room is different too. Gone is the green door and the green furniture. In this room, the door and the furniture are brown. Everything is different. Even she herself is different.
Her long golden locks are gone. Her flowing blonde hair has been replaced by shoulder-length hair of an auburn color. She is no longer Sarah Walker. She is now known by the name of Emma Roux.
As Emma rises from her bed, she leaves her dream underneath the pillow. Emma Roux doesn't know Chuck Bartowski. She's never heard of Sarah Walker. Emma has never even been to California.
As she gets ready, she transforms into her new cover identity and the woman from her dreams fades away. Emma Roux is nothing like Sarah Walker. Emma is more glamorous than Sarah. She has a much nicer job than Sarah Walker ever had. She wears more make-up. She speaks with a slight French accent.
The final step of the transformation into Emma Roux involves changing the color of her eyes. The contacts she places in her eyes changes them from their natural brilliant blue hue to a striking green. When she looks in the mirror, she doesn't recognize her own reflection. She looks so different from her usual self, her Sarah Walker self. Her own father wouldn't even know her. No one would.
Before leaving the room, she closes her eyes and the image of the man from her dreams appears. The barest of smiles graces her face. She holds onto the image and every moment from her dream floods her mind and fills her heart. For a moment, she lets herself remember. But then she opens her eyes as she says her final goodbye to him.
He will be forgotten until he visits her once again in her dreams when she falls asleep tonight. She looks forward to that. But until then, all thoughts of Chuck are eradicated from her system.
All thoughts and traces of her former life gone and forgotten, she is now ready to begin day 562 without him. When the door closes behind her, she's Emma Roux, and Sarah Walker is dead.
A/N: When this story was originally written for the Who Are You Challenge, it was intended to be a one-shot. However, in the reviews left for this entry of the challenge, some people expressed curiosity and interest regarding what happened to pull Sarah away from Chuck so long. So I'll leave it up to you, the readers. Do you like this story as a one-shot, or would you like to see it continued? Either way, I hope you have enjoyed this nearly year old story.