A/N: This one is dedicated to DLK, whose review reminded me why I love writing for this fandom. Also for tw200, KittyGoddess415 and FoofyChuck, who have awesomely braved the world of "Glee" and read my newest fics, even when they didn't necessarily reflect their own tastes and/or viewpoints. Thanks, guys! Your support means the world.
Disclaimer: If it was mine, Shaw would be acting the part of a slab of wood. Oh, wait. I think he already is . . .
~*~
The first time he visits her hotel room, he almost makes it to her door. He can feel his hand curl itself into a fist, preparing itself to knock. He can feel his throat turn dry, his stomach churn into knots, his palms begin to perspire. Standing halfway down the hallway, he stares at the green slab of wood, everything he wants to say echoing through his mind.
I need you, Sarah.
Don't leave me.
I love you.
And then he remembers the last few months. He remembers watching her in the arms of Shaw, almost as if everything between them never happened. He remembers her telling him that she needed to give the other agent a chance. That she wanted a real life. A real life that she doesn't think he can give to her anymore.
And who's to say that she isn't right? He's an absolute mess. Even with everything that's happened, even with the bravado he's presented over the last few months, he realizes that he's started to forget who he is. He's started to forget who he used to be. The only thing he knows – the only thing that makes sense – is that he wants to be a hero. The hero she said he was. A man that would make her proud.
And even if he might have lost sight of that goal for a little while, the fact is that it still exists. It exists stronger than ever. The problem is, he's not sure that he'll ever be the hero who deserves a woman like Sarah Walker.
Sighing heavily, Chuck blinks the pain from his eyes and heads back down the hallway. And even though he returns twice more before she leaves Burbank, he never works up the courage to knock on the door. Some hero he is.
~*~
The first time she visits his condo, she gets as far as the gateway. She can feel her heels click against the pavement, her feet heading ever closer to his front door. She can feel her heart skip a beat, her breath turn slightly shallow, her nails press nervously into the sensitive skin of her palms. Standing underneath the intricate trails of ivy, she stares at his front door, everything she wants to say echoing through her mind.
I need you, Chuck.
Don't let me go.
I love you.
And then she remembers the last few months. She remembers watching him throw himself into this new life, into this new world, almost as if everything between them had never happened. She remembers him telling her that he wanted to dedicate himself to becoming a spy. That he wanted to be a hero. A hero that he somehow believes he's never been.
And who is she to deny him that goal? She's an absolute mess. Even with everything that's happened, even with the semi-aloof façade she's presented over the last few months, she realizes that she's started to forget what's important. She's started to forget what it is that she wants. The only thing she knows – the only thing that makes sense – is that she wants him to be happy. Happier than she's ever seen him. Happier than she's ever been herself.
And even if she might have lost sight of that goal for a little while, the fact is that it still exists. It exists stronger than ever. The problem is, she's not sure that she'll ever be able to make him happy. She's not sure if she'll ever be able to give him the life he deserves.
Sighing heavily, Sarah blinks the pain from her eyes and heads back down the walkway. And even though she returns twice more before she leaves Burbank, she never works up the courage to knock on the door. Guess she won't be giving him that life after all.
~*~
The stars are bright tonight. He's not quite sure what brought him out here, to this incandescent lake. He's not quite sure what made him come, not in the middle of the night. Not when he's had such a long day. Pulling his jacket more tightly around his lanky frame, he stares out over the water, studying the stars as they twinkle off its shimmery surface. He's never felt so old in his life. He's never felt so tired.
She left two weeks ago.
She walked out of his life, taking everything he'd ever known along with her. His past. His goals. His heart.
He knows this is ridiculous. He knows that he should be focused on his job, on his mission. He knows the world depends on his work. So why is it that he can't forget about Sarah Walker? Why is it that his flashes have all but stopped, and his work has declined with each passing day? Why is it that he still feels like he can't remember who he is?
Folding his lips in dismayed agitation, he continues to stare at the black lake.
~*~
The stars are bright tonight. She's not quite sure what brought her back here, in the middle of the night. She's not quite sure what made her come, when her bosses expect her to be at Langley tomorrow morning. Not when her entire job depends on her putting this place in her past. Pulling her jacket more tightly around her sinewy frame, she steps quietly through the deserted park. It's amazing how many memories this place holds, how many secrets. She still remembers the first time she and Chuck came out here, when they needed a break from the relentless missions and training. Despite what she might have said, it was one of the only times she'd ever felt real. Being with Chuck was the only time she had ever felt real.
Even if she left two weeks ago.
She walked out of his life, leaving everything she'd ever known behind her. Her ambitions. Her dreams. Her heart.
She knows this is ridiculous. She knows that she should be focused on her job, on her mission. She knows the world depends on her work. So why is it that she can't forget about Chuck Bartowski? Why is it that she hasn't been able to focus, and her work ethic has slipped with each passing day? Why is it that she's forgotten what it is to be happy?
Biting her lower lip in anxious consternation, she steps ever closer to the black lake.
~*~
He senses her before he sees her. The skin on the back of his neck prickles, and his pulse increases slightly. But even with the physical symptoms, his eyes still widen when she breathes his name.
"Chuck?" Sarah queries, her lips parting in surprise. After wanting him for so long, after two weeks without him, she can't believe that he's this close. She can't believe that he's with her now.
Turning around slowly, he stares at her for a long moment as if he's caught in some sort of trance. "Sarah," he whispers, stepping inadvertently closer to her side. "What are – what are you doing here?"
She can feel the emotions flickering across her face, her usually careful façade falling away faster than she knows how to stop it. For so long, she's wanted to tell him how she feels. For so long, she's kept him at arm's length as obstacle after obstacle came within their path. Even now, when she's longed to see him for two weeks, when she's longed to hold him for months, she doesn't really know how to respond. She doesn't really know how to make things alright. The only thing she knows is that she really does need him.
"I missed you," she says simply, smiling softly.
The grin he gives her next makes her pulse race. It's slow yet radiant, and when it spreads across his face, his features seem to light up from within. "I missed you, too," he admits. His eyes flicker from her face to her hand and back again, before he finally reaches out hesitantly and threads his fingers through her own. "What are we going to do, Sarah?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "I have a feeling that Beckman didn't send you here."
Chuckling softly, Sarah shakes her head. "Not exactly," she confesses, smiling sheepishly. And then she turns more serious. "Look, Chuck," she begins, weighing her words carefully. She's never been good at this part. She's never been good at opening up, at making herself vulnerable. Even so, she's never wanted anything more. She's never wanted anyone more. And for once in her life, she finds herself letting go. "I can't leave," she says simply, shrugging as she tightens her grip in his hand.
"Why not?" Chuck asks, his breath hitching as he waits for her response.
"Because," she replies, swallowing the tension at the back of her throat, "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for a long time, Chuck."
"Sarah," he breathes, his eyes welling with unspoken emotion. And then: "I love you, too, you know."
"Beckman's going to kill us," Sarah replies, her own face lighting up in a grin. Somehow, she can't bring herself to care. Even if the CIA brings its full force down upon their shoulders, at least she'll have Chuck by her side. At least she'll have him in her life. At least she'll know that she's making him happy. And in the process, she'll be making herself happy, too. A fact that's made even more apparent when Chuck wraps her in his arms and lowers his head to bring his lips crashing against her own.
Sweet and gentle, passionate and intense, the kiss is everything she's wanted for so long and nothing she's ever experienced. Lacing her fingers through his silky curls, she pushes her body closer to his slightly muscular frame, relishing the feel of his fingers as they traverse her skin. And when they finally break apart, when she finally leans her forehead against his own, she has to take a moment to catch her breath.
"So where do we go from here?" Chuck asks, looking deeply into her radiant blue eyes.
"One mission at a time, Chuck," she whispers, her gaze flickering to his bruised lips. "One mission at a time."
And when she kisses him again, he forgets to ask any further questions. He forgets to worry, he forgets to care about anything but her. Losing himself in her touch, he realizes that he doesn't need to be a hero so long as he has her in his life.
