AN: This is my first venture into world of Chuck fanfiction. And I'm quite scared, actually, to post this. But here goes.
Story Premise: An alternative ending to 3x11: Chuck vs The Final Exam. Chuck was offered a long-time mission in Italy after he passed his final exam. His cover was that of a billionaire Industrialist. He planned to take Sarah and Casey with him but Sarah decided to aid Shaw instead on taking down the Ring.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. Do you?
To Love a Man She Never Knew
Four years, eight months, 23 days—that's how long she knew him. She counted it herself, leafing through the calendar, month by month, noting every single day.
Funny though, she wasn't one to pay heed of time's inevitable passage. She did at first, but he always had the frustrating tendency to mess with her sense of time: whenever they kissed, made love, or even just plain talked or held hands, she never knew if it had been long sunny days or mere seconds that slipped by. And each time he went on business trips to god-knows-where, the sadness would stretch out for eternities until she saw his warm smile again.
One thing, she was sure of though: It had all been too brief, she thought bitterly as she shifted slightly in her plane seat.
Often, she would fantasize about the future, more powerfully when he was away. She dreamed she was old, with her graying hair and blurry eyesight, clutching a cane on one hand and his hand on the other. A long time would have passed by then but they were still together—enough time, at least for them to get married, have kids, raise a proper family… But those were in the future, supposedly distant and far-off at present.
But none of those would make it to reality, because at this very moment, she was on her way to meet his dead body, halfway around the world.
You always have my heart with you, Charles Carmichael. I love you, and it was nice knowing you—was her last thoughts before she tearfully succumbed to sleep.
Year 0, Month 0, Day 0.
"A cold beer, please," a guy sitting alone on the bar ordered with a small smile. The brunette waitress stationed nearest attended to his order. She studied him carefully while preparing his drink: brown hair, brown eyes, beautiful grey Armani suit, and the flashy cufflinks—maybe a reputable businessman. His hair was short, but she could see hints of curls in there. If he grew it out a little, his image would become quite different, like adorable, cute, nerdy- jolly? But tonight however, the air around him carried a trace of gloom; even his smile was sorrowful.
There'd been a lot of men like him whom she'd served before—they all seemed lost and heart-broken. Maybe it was about their work, or their girlfriends or wives, families—those were what brought them here in this modest bar in the first place: to at least forget and get away from it all even for a short while.
She'd had those moments too.
So she offered him a smile in return.
And pretty soon, they were exchanging stories. He'd told her that it was a hard day at work that drove him here. Talking to him was easy, she learned. Although, curiously, he never talked specifics about himself, like the type of job he worked on, his family or friends, but they had still pretty much a lot to talk about. Remarkably, his Italian was excellent considering he'd only been in the country for three months.
She was still on-duty though, so she constantly had to excuse herself to serve other customers. In the end, he offered to stay until her shift ended and drive her home. (He never finished that one order of drink he purchased; he only took an occasional pull whenever she left to do her job.)
Back at home, in the confines of her apartment and of her mind, she decided: she liked the good gentleman she met today. Yeah, I definitely like Chuck Carmichael.
With a last smile to no one in particular, she was off to sleep.
Year 0, Month 8, Day 28.
Since that fateful first meeting, he became a regular costumer at the bar, although surprisingly he never once drank more than a single order of beer. He lived an hour and a half hour's drive away from the place, he explained when she asked. With a teasing smile, he told her he'd only been coming in this particular bar to see her.
She knew her for almost a year now, and they scheduled four dates including this one. But twice—twice!—he failed to show up. She waited and waited, until she fully grasped he wasn't coming. The second time it happened, Chuck at least had the civility to send his chauffer to escort her home.
She wanted to be mad at him; she remembered the tears she desperately tried to suppress while she sat alone waiting at the tables he had booked for them. But she knew she couldn't. It was hard staying angry towards him—her adorable, sweet Chuck, with that sad smile that constantly intrigued her. So she resorted to berating herself for falling in love with such busy man. And when he had gotten around to explaining his absences with emergency business affairs he had to handle, she always ended up forgiving him.
She loved him that much, even though she hadn't yet known about his billionaire Industrialist cover, more so of his covert life as a spy. All she knew was that he was a businessman who was at least decent at what he did or else he wouldn't be able to afford the high-end car he drove when he visited, nor reservations at classy restaurants for their dates.
Year 2, Month 4, Day 2.
"So, you and the moron together?" The bulky guy Chuck introduced as a business associate from America, Mr. Casey, asked her before he took a sip of his scotch. She was taken aback by his choice of name for Chuck, but she sensed a level of closeness between them. Chuck seemed to have already grown used to his nicknames and was laughing it off right before he excused himself to go to the "little boys' room". And this was the first time he introduced someone to her after all.
"Yes," she replied succinctly. Her English wasn't incredible yet though Chuck had been giving her lessons; she desperately wanted to ask about Chuck, his past, maybe lovers he had—
"He's a great guy, you know—too good sometimes, too much heart…" Mr. Casey said, halting her musings.
She understood that, and even thought Chuck was more than any of those compliments. She felt that Mr. Casey too was impressed by him more than he let on. Maybe he was even thankful of the chance of having Chuck as a friend.
And she was secretly grateful too that Chuck was finally opening up to her in his small ways—like letting her meet Mr. Casey.
"Take care of him, will you?"
Even though she nodded her assent, she vaguely wondered how she could take care of the man she knew little of.
Year 2, Month 9, Day 11.
His house was enormous—no, it wasn't just a house. A mansion would be more descriptive, where he lived with a handful of staff: his security detail, house butler, and strangely, his very pretty, very sexy personal secretary, Carina Miller whom, even more curiously, she only met for the first time. Only then did she comprehend just how much of an important person Chuck was.
Carina Miller—she found her to be another mysterious person. Even though she was just a personal secretary, she always caught her watching Chuck not unlike how an older sister would: as if curious, protective, and encouraging. Like she was his keeper of sorts, a protector.
And of Chuck's girlfriend, whom she'd kept under surveillance for a long time, Carina approved.
"Nice to finally meet you, Chuckies' girlfriend." Carina crushed her with a hug.
Chuck just shrugged in the background, beaming. And it wasn't that sad variety he wore, which was now becoming a scarce sight, but a genuinely pleased one.
Year 3, Month 1, Day 27.
She woke up in the middle of the night—2:47 AM the bedside clock showed. Chuck's side of the bed was deserted, but he couldn't have gone long for it was still warm.
It wasn't her first time sleeping at Chuck's, but it was her first waking up without him beside her whenever it happened. If she thought him missing dates was unfortunate, now it was more depressing waking up alone when she'd gone to bed with company.
But then she heard voices coming from the next room, muffled through the doors, and they appeared to be raised. If anything, the girl was curious. That was how she was attracted to Chuck in the first place: Chuck's forlorn demeanor, how and why it was he was always in that state when he stopped by the bar to drink, she was itching to know from the first time they met.
So she hopped off the bed, wrapped the blanket on her naked form, padded bare-footed to the door, and silently pried it open. There was a suitcase on the hallway and a maroon coat hanging on the railings. Very feminine things.
The door to the room beside hers was closed, but that's where the noise definitely came from. She held still and listened closely.
Year 3, Month 1, Day 28.
When she woke up, her breakfast was on the bedside table. A cup of Cappuccino and croissant. Chuck did not make an appearance until she finished her breakfast.
He sauntered in just after she'd drunk the last of her coffee. He kissed her forehead, mumbled a "Buon giorno" against her hair, and settled himself at the foot of her side of the bed.
She reached up to him to say good morning with a kiss, but when she saw the solemn line of his mouth, she stopped and instead asked, "Did something happen?"
He shook his head gently and for a moment let a grin grace his features. But there was a fake feel to it; it didn't reach his eyes. "Carina resigned. I just hired a new secretary," he said somberly.
Year 3, Month 1, Day 28.
She met his new secretary at lunch, a tall blonde even more pretty than Carina—whereas Carina appeared to be a supermodel, the new assistant was more of an actress. And currently, she seemed like she was playing the role of a bodyguard more than of an assistant, with the ever present stoic mask on her face. She looked like she hadn't smiled in years. Only, the small puffing and redding of her eyes gave away her capacity for emotion.
Her name was Sarah Walker, the maroon coat and suitcase-bag-on-the-hallway owner.
The one who was on a row with Chuck last night. And from what she'd heard of their heated conversation that was obviously meant not to be overheard, Chuck and Miss Walker had history.
At first it was all apologies from Sarah, but Chuck wouldn't hear any of it—"But you still left," he had said. "I was broken for some time. But now, I've moved on. Please don't ruin all that I've worked so hard for now." His voice was almost pleading, "You've made your choice. This is mine. "
Year 3, Month 7, Day 6.
She was getting frustrated. Chuck's trips out of town had increased significantly since Sarah became Chuck's assistant. And jealous too, since she knew that Sarah was always with him even on business trips.
Were he and Sarah staying in the same hotel every time? Worse, were they sleeping together? Was there something Chuck wasn't telling her?
Yes, Chuck told her he and Sarah used to date, but it never worked out for them. At first she was incredulous, wondering why anyone would ever want to let go of Chuck. But in the end, her doubts were appeased by Chuck's promise of loyalty. She could trust Chuck, she knew that a long time ago.
Year 3, Month 10, Day 17.
Another date. Chuck had just returned from a convention at Bolivia. It had been a wonderful time, he told her, and that he was quite sad she wasn't with him.
"One day, I swear, we'll travel the world," he promised. "But the least I can do now is bring you a gift." He produced a present from behind him, and laid it on the table.
And that was when she spotted Sarah sitting alone on the far corner of the restaurant. She had her eyes trained on Chuck's back that she probably never realized she'd been recognized. There was longing in her eyes but it was more heavily laced by regret. At that moment, Chuck's brunette date felt a tinge of pity in her heart.
That Sarah Walker, she might have been through a lot.
Year 4, Month 8, Day 5.
It was their first fight. It was the first time she voiced her frustration at his constant—and now more frequent—absence. He understood what she felt but he was himself in a tight situation.
Sure he loved her, the pretty brunette bar waitress he met a few months after he'd become a full-pledged spy and settled in Italy for cover. She was nothing like Sarah; she believed in the world, she trusted wholeheartedly. Her life was never tainted with the lies and deception of the spy world. She reminded him of himself before he became a government asset. At times, he was overwhelmed by guilt of pulling her into his world, for risking her life by being acquainted with her.
But she was the lighthouse that guided him to shore, especially when the ocean of his life was in storm. He sought her for the love and security only an unbroken person could give—one that even Sarah did not possess.
But. Sarah was the love of his life. True, he was devastated when she had picked Shaw over him, but she was back now, wasn't she? She apologized, he forgave her, and they were back to square one. It was strictly professional between them now, but he knew Sarah would never give up that easily.
Sarah was being careful—she liked Chuck's new girlfriend too and honestly believed the little brunette deserved him, and Chuck needed her too. But he was still her Chuck, the only man she ever truly loved. Sarah needed Chuck, too.
Somehow, Chuck's girlfriend could feel the tension between the three of them and had figured it all out. Hence, the frustration. Hence their fight.
Year 4, Month 2, Day 22.
He was on a spy mission with Sarah, but his girlfriend didn't know that. All she knew was he was making more money on another of his numerous business trips.
They still hadn't resolved their argument. Chuck was being selfish, he knew, keeping both women close, not choosing any one of them. Although, she didn't demand that he got rid of Sarah, she only wanted for him to stay home more, but even that he couldn't do. These missions were the only times he could be alone with Sarah. And although nothing inappropriate was happening between them, he appreciated simply being with her again.
Year 4, Month 8, Day 22.
It was shortly before dawn when she woke up to the ringing of her phone.
Suppressing a yawn, she answered the call. Chuck was on the other end. "I'm so, so sorry," was all he said before he hung up. It confused her. She found the desperation in his voice chilling.
On the fourth year, eighth month, and 23rd day since she knew him, she realized she had never actually known him.
Two men in black suits called in her house early that morning. Americans—one with brown hair and piercing blue eyes, the other, the younger one sported sunglasses. She didn't know what their business was with her, but she had a sinking feeling it was about Chuck. She just prayed silently it wasn't a bad news.
One of the guys cleared his throat. "Are you Agent Carmichael's girlfriend?" She was briefly surprised he'd addressed Chuck as 'Agent' but replied nonetheless, "Yes, I am. How may I help you?" By now, her English was already spectacular, at least on conversational level. Chuck was an amazing teacher after all.
"Agent Charles Carmichael is dead, ma'am. We're here to escort you to the United States for his burial. It was his request that we do so."
Year 4, Month 8, Day 25.
Technically though, it was Year 0, Month 0, Day 0 again, because in truth, she had never known the real Chuck. It was only now they were telling and showing her.
Chuck mentioned to her once about having a sister, who was already married, and today was the first time she met her and her family. Ellie Woodcombe. It seemed that Ellie never knew of her existence and it pained her to know that even on phone, they were never introduced.
But Ellie had known about Sarah Walker. Perhaps they were close before her and Chuck's break-up. She was crushed by Chuck's death, and even more when she heard Sarah died with him.
They were at the nation's capital, meeting with Chuck's superiors as a spy.
Chuck's a spy and so was Sarah. They'd never been on business trips; instead they went on dangerous spy missions to save his beloved country. And he had never let her know.
She knew it was to protect her and his family, but still—it hurt. What else did he keep from her? Oh, and that Chuck wasn't a Carmichael but a Bartowski, for pitssake!
She was angry, and anguished, and betrayed, and anguished, and curious, and anguished. Her Chuck died with the woman he loved, Sarah; did that mean he didn't love her too? Was there nothing he told her that wasn't a lie?
It saddened her to know that the first time she'll truly understand the man Chuck had been was when he was dead.
Year 4, Month 8, Day 28.
She was the last to leave the burial grounds, and at that time, it was already raining. She had watched as the rain seeped slowly through crevices of the freshly dumped soil on Chuck and Sarah's final resting places. They were buried on adjacent lots. Had they been married, they would have dishonored their marriage vows, because even after death they refused to part.
She could only guess at how they died. Maybe Chuck's life was threatened that Sarah decided to risk hers to protect him. Or was it the other way around? Then the survivor, finding no reason to live without their life partner, decided to carry on with the mission knowing full well—or even hoping—they could die.
Was it only then Chuck realized he loved Sarah more than her? Or had he decided that when he called her that morning when she was still half-asleep? If she'd known he'd never make it back home, she would never have fought with him.
For the night, Ellie had offered she stayed with them, and she gratefully accepted. Her flight to America was made in such a rush that she didn't have a chance to book a hotel room. Those CIA agents practically dragged her halfway around the world on a short notice.
It turned out Ellie also had no inkling that his little brother was a spy. But at least Ellie knew more of Chuck than she did. The sister knew Chuck Bartowski, the girlfriend was only familiar with one Chuck Carmichael.
"He was a good brother. Until he became a spy, he never knew how to lie." They were sitting around the dining room table, drinks in hand, sharing stories about what of Chuck they knew.
And for her, this was the real first time she was meeting the real Chuck.
Year 0, Month 0, Day 1.
AN: So here's my question: http :/ / bit. ly /8YpEST (It's a clean link, promise! And remove spaces, please). Please let me know what you think. Should I be allowed to write? I hope you could review and criticize (constructively).
So thank you. And I love you. :D