A/N the first: First of all, I would like to thank everyone who read the first chapter of this new story. Thank you especially to those who took the time to review. I appreciate them and you. Thank you, too, for the alerts and tweets. I'm ecstatic at the response I've received so far. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you to AgentInWaiting for his wonderful beta work on this chapter in particular and his patience with me in general when I send e-mails that say, "Wait! I added something." Thank you, sir.
Insert disclaimers here.
Chapter 2 – The Grande Dame
Sarah stood perfectly still in the middle of the parking garage at Denver International Airport, staring at Chuck as if he were an apparition. She was so surprised she didn't know what to do, so she did nothing.
It only took Chuck five long strides to close the distance between them, the smile never leaving his face. "I told you I'd be waiting," he repeated. "I just didn't say where."
His words jolted her out of her dazed silence. He placed a hand on her cheek, leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss.
She nearly turned into a puddle right there. She slipped her free arm under his coat and around his waist, pulling him close. Mmmm, he smells good. When they broke the kiss, she looked into his eyes. "What are you doing here? I was just — "
He kissed her again and said, "I know. You were just going to drive yourself home. I couldn't wait that long to see my beautiful wife. I also knew you would be tired and hungry, so I came to you." His smile faded. "When was the last time you slept?"
"Umm…"
He frowned. "That's what I thought." His eyes stared into hers. "And the last time you ate anything was…"
Busted. "Does the snack on the plane count?" she asked with a weak grin.
"No, not unless it came with a steak and baked potato."
She groaned. "Steak and a baked potato. Chuck, you're making my mouth water." As if called upon by the very idea of food, her stomach growled for attention. His eyebrows shot up at the sound. "I guess we need to hurry up and get some food in you."
She reluctantly allowed him to leave her embrace when he took her suitcase by the handle and rolled it toward the Porsche. Placing the bag in compartment under the hood, he grinned and said, "Ready to go?"
"What about the car you drove here in?"
His head cocked and he scowled as if deep in thought. Then he smiled and snapped his fingers. "I didn't tell you. I got a ride from someone. Hey, chauffeur! Come and show yourself."
Two aisles over the driver's side door of a large van opened. Lizzie, her seventeen-year-old niece jumped out and zigzagged through the parked cars between them. Reaching Sarah, she gave her aunt a hug and said happily, "I'm glad you're back. We all missed you."
"Well, some more than others," John Casey, her NSA partner teased, walking slowly toward them, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. "So, didn't meet any foreign princes on the mission that wanted to whisk you away?" His burgeoning smirk was cut short when he saw the gleam in Sarah's eyes. "Oh no, Walker, please don't say it. Please, I'm begging you."
"It's Bartowski," Sarah replied, smiling widely. "And I've got my prince right here." She pulled Chuck back to her.
"Aaargh," Casey's disgruntled exclamation was drowned out by the sound of Lizzie's laughter.
"Oh come on, Uncle Sugar Bear, you walked into that one. It's your own fault for tossing her such a softball."
"Sugar Bear?" Sarah repeated, not sure if she had heard right.
Her niece nodded, ignoring the glare Casey was directing her way. "You'll have to ask Martie when you get home."
"Speaking of which, it's great to see you, but what's going on?"
"I wanted to meet you at the airport and drive you home. I needed some way to get the van back to Beaver Creek—" Chuck started.
"And I need nighttime driving to get my license, so I'm going to drive the van home," Lizzie finished, her face beaming.
"But you have to have an adult with you," Sarah said, frowning. It clicked and her face cleared. "And that's where Casey comes in."
"Uncle Casey's going to ride shotgun."
"Literally?" Sarah asked, eyeing her partner.
"Nah," Casey said. "There's no good place to put up a gun rack up in the back of that van." He gave Chuck an accusing look, "I doubt Bartowski would let me install one in the front."
"Sorry, Casey. I'm trying to keep the van that my children ride in from looking like one that transports prisoners."
Casey shrugged. "The thing's a boat, anyway. Wait until I take her out in a real car to teach her some tactical driving. That's when it'll get fun."
"And now I'm terrified. Thank you, Casey," Chuck deadpanned.
Sarah's stomach growled again. "Okay, now that we have the transportation straightened out, where should we all go eat? I'm starving." She thumbed behind her. "Should we all just go back into the terminal and get something?"
A knowing look passed between Lizzie and Chuck. Casey shifted his weight from one foot to the other and feigned boredom.
"Sorry, Aunt Sarah, but I can't stay." Lizzie's blue eyes danced merrily. "I need to get home before it gets too late. I have homework." She squeezed Sarah in another fierce embrace and then kissed Chuck's cheek. She took a couple of steps backward and stood next to Casey. Grinning, she said, "You two go eat. Uncle Casey and I will pick up some veggie burgers on the way home."
The big man snapped his head toward her and glowered. "I'm not eating any of that garbage."
"If I'm driving, don't I get to pick where we eat?" Lizzie teased defiantly.
"You can't go anywhere until I get in the van. And I'm not getting in the van until you promise that we'll eat somewhere that serves real food, not that hippie vegetarian crap."
"Fiiiine," she said in a dramatic, put upon voice. "How about Good Times Burgers?" She wagged her eyebrows at him. "You can get some onion rings."
Casey squinted at her, weighing the proposition. "Deal. But you're paying. You owe me for riding with you. I've been in combat. Not as scary as your driving," he goaded.
Lizzie punched him on the arm. "Uncle Casey, I'm a good driver and you know it."
"Yeah, yeah, kid," he smirked. "And that 'Sugar Bear' mention is going to cost you a Big Daddy Bacon Cheeseburger and some frozen custard."
Lizzie squinted back at him. "Deal," she agreed. She slunk over to Chuck and whispered, "Can I have some money?"
He shot Lizzie an amused look and fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled two twenties out and dropped them into her awaiting palm. "And so it begins," he said ominously.
Lizzie flashed Chuck an impish grin. "Thank you."
Sarah chuckled and then remembered the box under her arm. "Oh! Lizzie, take this home with you," she said, handing it to the teenager.
Lizzie gasped. "Is this what I think it is?" She held the box in front of her reverently, as if she had just been handed the Holy Grail.
Sarah gave her a warning stare. "Yes, but you have to promise me not to open it until I get home. I want to be there."
"Okay," Lizzie said, momentarily disappointed. The feeling was fleeting when she hugged the box to her and then bounced happily on her toes. "Thank you!" she squealed and scampered back to the van. Doors opened and slammed and the engine roared to life. Lizzie stuck her head out the open window and shouted back, "Come on, Uncle Casey! Let's roll!"
"I guess we're off," Casey said. He dipped his head as a good-bye, turned and walked toward the van.
"Text us and let us know you got home safely," Chuck called out after him.
Sarah couldn't hear the grunt she assumed Casey made, but she did see him raise his arm and wave in acknowledgement, even if he didn't turn around. Once he was safely belted into the passenger seat, Lizzie slowly maneuvered out the van of its parking space.
Sarah took Chuck's hand when she noticed that he was holding his breath. Just before Lizzie started forward, she turned and waved at them, her face a picture of unadulterated joy. They both waved back, Chuck squeezing Sarah hand tightly. The vehicle rolled slowly down the aisle, turned toward the exit and disappeared.
"She'll be fine," Sarah said quietly.
Chuck sighed. "I know she will. It still doesn't keep me from worrying."
She squeezed his hand again. "I know." Cutting her eyes to him, she gave him an appreciative glance. "You look nice." He wore jeans, a heather green knit sweater and the long, black cashmere overcoat she gave him for Christmas. Best Christmas present ever, she thought.
He smiled. "You don't look so bad yourself." Suddenly concerned, he asked, "Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I didn't see a limp when you walked up."
She rolled her eyes. "Chuck, I'm fine. Do you want me to twirl around or something so you can see I'm all in one piece?"
"If you wouldn't mind," he said, a little embarrassed. "I'm not used to you going off on missions and stuff." He shrugged. "I worry."
He was so earnest in his concern she couldn't help but comply. She held her arms out to her sides and turned around slowly. "You're sweet to worry, but I'm fine." Completing her turn, she dropped her arms and added, "As for me looking okay, I can't remember the last time I had a chance to clean up."
He grabbed her hand again and spun her into his arms. His passionate kiss made her literally weak-kneed. "Doesn't matter to me," he murmured.
An eyebrow rose. "Apparently not." She went to kiss him again. As their lips neared, her stomach announced, once again, its displeasure at being empty. They both grinned and kissed quickly. Chuck reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the keys to the Porsche and dangled them in front of her. "I'll give you directions."
Shaking her head, she said, "You drive."
"I get to drive the Porsche?" he asked in awe.
"You came all the way to the airport just to be with me." She gave him a wink. "I think you deserve to drive it."
The resulting grin just about broke his face. "Okay, then, let's go get some food in you." He hustled to the passenger door and opened it for her. She slid into the seat and immediately leaned her head back against the headrest. Chuck lowered himself into the driver's seat and revved up the engine. Before he backed out of the parking space, he sent a text on his phone.
"What's that about?" she asked.
"Need to know," he answered with a mysterious smile.
She glanced at him and chuckled. He was up to something, but she didn't have the energy to try to get any information out of him, so she didn't respond.
They drove in companionable silence. The radio played softly, set on one of those smooth jazz stations. The heater blasted hot air at Sarah's feet, and within a couple of minutes, the interior of the car grew warm and comfortable. She stared through the front windshield as they drove along the highway, mesmerized by the road coming at them and then slipping away. The tension of the mission, the hours of travel, the meetings all melted away as she relaxed into the seat. She was able to stifle the first yawn, but the second one overtook her before she could stop it. It made her eyes water. She had trouble focusing and fought to keep her eyelids from drooping.
She awoke when the car came to a stop. It felt like her eyes were full of sand when she forced them open and looked around. The tall buildings around her informed her that they were in downtown Denver. "How long was I asleep?"
"About twenty minutes. We're here, by the way."
She had lived in Colorado for less than a year and had only been to Denver a handful of times, so she didn't know exactly where "here" was. Before she could figure anything out, her door opened and a hotel doorman offered her his white-gloved hand, "Welcome to the Brown Palace Hotel." She took it and stepped out of the car. Chuck sprang from his seat and was quickly at her side. To the doorman he said, "We have a couple of bags."
"Very good, sir." The doorman waved over a bellhop who took Sarah's bag from the compartment under the hood and Chuck's bag from behind the driver's seat as well as another smaller bag from behind the passenger seat and placed them on a luggage cart.
A parking valet appeared at Chuck's side. He handed the valet the keys to the Porsche and received a ticket in return. Tipping the doorman, he said, "Make sure they take excellent care of my wife's car." The doorman grinned appreciatively and tipped his cap. "Yes, sir."
Chuck took Sarah's hand in his and led her through the front doors into the hotel. Sarah's eyes were immediately drawn upwards, toward the last light of the day coming through the stained glass skylight eight stories up. In the huge atrium, people sat on chairs and sofas and spoke in hushed tones while a pianist played a shiny black grand piano. The interior of the hotel was a symphony of turn-of-the-century charm: carved wood paneling, intricate ironwork panels with brass handrails along the walkways, and Victorian rugs over marble floors.
"Chuck, what are we doing here?" Sarah whispered, looking around at the elegant décor and then down at her jeans and boots. "I'm not dressed for a fancy place like this."
He looked her up and down and answered quite seriously, "You look perfect to me."
She grinned at his compliment. They walked toward the main desk, their luggage following them. "We're not just eating dinner here tonight, are we?" she asked.
"You're very observant. That must be why you're so good at your job," he said poker-faced.
She smirked and playfully slapped his arm. "I usually don't let people tease me about my job. You're lucky I love you so much."
The look in his eyes nearly took her breath away. "I know."
He kissed her hand just as they arrived at the main desk. "Welcome to the Brown Palace Hotel, the Grande Dame of Denver," said the smiling young woman behind the desk. The brass nametag on her blouse indicated her name was Jennifer.
"Thank you, Jennifer," Chuck replied, smiling back. "We have a reservation. Mr. and Mrs. Charles."
Sarah gave him a sideways glance. He avoided her gaze and smiled serenely at the desk clerk.
The young woman typed at her keyboard and said, "Yes, Mr. Charles. We have your reservation right here for one of our royal suites." The corner of the clerk's mouth quirked up as she read something at the bottom of the screen. She prepared their card keys, slipped them into a paper holder and wrote their room number on the outside. Handing them across the counter to the bellhop, she said, "Josh, please take Mr. and Mrs. Charles to their suite." Giving Chuck a meaningful look, she murmured, "You should find everything in order, Mr. Charles."
Without moving her head, Sarah looked from Chuck, to the clerk, and then back to Chuck. What is he up to? As their nephew Fred would say, her "spy-dey" sense was tingling.
They left the desk and waited for the elevator. The old fashioned arrow that arced back and forth as it indicated which floor the elevator was a delight to her. When the arrow reached "1" there was a ding.
After an elevator ride and a quick walk down the walkway, they arrived at their suite.
Josh the bellhop opened the door with a flourish and Sarah stepped inside. It was lovely. The sitting room had a loveseat, two chairs, a desk and a table. The bedroom and bathroom were through a door off to the right. Josh stowed the bags in the bedroom, took Chuck's tip and left.
Chuck grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "You like it?"
"Chuck, it's beautiful. What's the occasion?"
"Nothing in particular. I just wanted to do something nice for you when you came back from your trip."
Her stomach rumbled again. She walked over to the basket of food perched on top of the mini bar. "If we're going to eat at one of the restaurants here, I need to take a shower." She rifled through the basket, looking for a muffin or anything to stave off the hunger. "I gotta eat something first."
Chuck was about to respond when there was a knock at the door. He raised a finger and said, "Hold that thought." He opened the door. A smiling waiter dressed in a short red coat with the nametag "Liam" stood behind a room service cart.
"Ah, my good man. Just in time. My bride is starving," Chuck said, opening the door wider to allow the cart through the doorway.
The waiter immediately set to work. He covered the table with a white tablecloth. Next he placed on the table two plates covered with domed silver warmers. In quick succession came water filled goblets, a basket of rolls and a bottle of wine with two wine glasses. At the center of the table he placed a budvase that held a single red rose. "Do you require anything else?" he asked.
"No, thank you. We'll call if we want to order dessert," Chuck answered.
"Very good, sir." He turned to Sarah and made a slight bow. "Enjoy your meal." He turned and left.
With a great flair Chuck lifted the lid from the plate before her and revealed a filet mignon, a giant baked potato, creamed spinach and bowl of sautéed mushrooms. A green salad sat on its own plate to the side.
"Is that sour cream and butter on the potato?" she asked, her mouth beginning to water.
"Just the way you like it." His eyebrows wiggled. "You could say that potato has been smothered with goodness." He grinned. "Perhaps 'slathered' is a better word." He waved the lid over the plate a couple of times, wafting the food's aroma her direction, enticing her.
As she stepped toward the table, the smell of the food enveloped her. She literally groaned with anticipation. A realization dawned on her. "Is this what that text in the parking garage was about?"
"Mm-hmm. I wanted the food to be ready for us the minute we walked into our suite so I texted them and told them when we would arrive."
Despite her astonishment at everything that had happened in the hour or so since he'd surprised her in the parking garage, she was able to find her voice and say, "Chuck, you're so sweet. I can't believe you did all this for me." She gave him a quick kiss before she sat down.
"Yes, I'm quite the catch," he chuckled, pushing in her chair.
Craning her neck, she regarded him over her shoulder. "Yes, you are," she said, meaning it.
Their eyes locked until Chuck cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "Honey, you go ahead and get started. I'm going to open the wine." He removed the metal cap and began twisting the in corkscrew.
She didn't have to be told twice and immediately set to cutting her steak. The meat was so tender it nearly fell apart on her plate and when she popped a piece in her mouth, it melted. She shoveled a forkful of potato into her mouth and chewed while she grabbed a warm roll and buttered it. Another bite of steak caused her to moan, "Oh, god, Chuck, this is so good."
He grinned as he pulled the cork out of the bottle with a thwock. "It sounds like I should put out the 'Do Not Disturb Sign' so you and your dinner can be alone," he quipped as he poured her a glass of wine.
Her cheeks were so stuffed with food, she felt like a chipmunk when she made a face at him. Usually, she was very conscientious about not talking with her mouth full, as she wanted to set a good example for the kids, and especially the boys. This time, though, she made an exception. "It's your fault," she mumbled around the roll and baked potato. Curtis would be so proud of me, she thought with a smile. "You know I'm starving. You bring me to this fabulous hotel and ply me with food and wine." Her eyes followed Chuck as he poured himself some wine and then sat down. She swallowed the mouthful of food and took a sip of wine. With a sly grin, she asked, "Are trying to seduce me, Mr. Charles?"
Cutting into his own steak, he said, "My intentions toward you are nothing but honorable, Mrs. Charles."
"Hmm. That's rather disappointing."
The bite of steak on Chuck's fork stopped halfway between his plate and open mouth. The steak knife slipped from his hand, bounced off the plate and landed on the table. His cheeks colored.
Warmth suffused through her when she saw his reaction. He's so adorable.
His fork hovered in the air with the steak still impaled on the tongs. "And they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I think they need to change that, don't you?" He grinned and finally allowed the fork to makes its way to his mouth.
She nodded vigorously and grabbed another warm roll from the basket and put it on her plate.
"I only want to take care of you by feeding you and letting you sleep. This is all about you."
"Just sleep?" she teased.
He blushed and stammered, "If that's what you want."
She chuckled. Taking another bite of food, she chewed slowly, contemplating her next words. "Chuck, do you want to talk about the search for your parents?"
"Only if you're up to it. A few more hours won't make any difference to me."
"I appreciate that, sweetie. Unfortunately, there's not a lot to tell."
His shoulders sagged. "Another dead end?"
Wincing, she nodded.
At first there had been a great amount of enthusiasm when they began their hunt for his parents. But it became very clear very quickly that it was going to be a very difficult task. Going through channels had turned up nothing other than learning that bureaucracy would be the ultimate downfall of civilization. When they had approached Director Graham for assistance, he had been of little help other than to give Chuck and Sarah permission to do their own digging. After some research, they found the names of a few agents who were at the Agency at the same time as Chuck's parents. Unfortunately, when contacted, the responses were always the same—he or she knew of Frost and Orion and remembered hearing about their disappearances, but had no information otherwise.
Undeterred, Chuck wrote a sophisticated search algorithm to crawl through all of the Agency's databases. They were frustrated when the searches returned only one reference to the code names Frost and Orion. An agent now retired and living in Paris, had submitted a mission report several years ago where he mentioned the names Frost and Orion. Upon reading the full report, Chuck and Sarah were disappointed to find that he only cited them because he met with the same informant that he, Frost and Orion had met with during a mission years before. It was the only real lead they had found, though, so when Graham requested for Sarah to go on the mission to Paris to pilfer the thumb drives from Henri Benoit, it was an opportunity for Sarah to meet the former agent and try to gain any information she could. Plus, it was a good way for her to ease back into going on missions.
She hated giving him bad news. Again. "Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetie. I tracked down that retired agent and he agreed to speak with me. He remembered your parents even though he had only worked with them that one time in Asia."
Chuck dragged a hand over his face and filled in the rest. "Let me guess. He remembered that they had mysteriously disappeared, but never heard anything about them after that, other than the Agency was looking for them on and off over the years."
"Yes. I'm sorry."
He shrugged and gave her a weak smile. "At least you found the guy."
"He told me one thing, though," she said quietly. "He mentioned that even though his mission with them was almost forty years ago, he remembered them because he had never seen two people more in love."
He absently spun his spoon on the table.
She put a hand on his arm. "We'll just keep digging, keep looking. We'll find something," she said with more conviction than she felt.
He shook his head. "No, hon. We're done."
"What?" Frowning, she glanced at his face and only saw sadness and defeat. "Why? Chuck, we just started looking for them a few months ago."
He sat up straighter. "I know, but we've found so little. We've contacted people, I've combed through Agency databases, but there's nothing there. Most of the information about them probably isn't even digitized. It's most likely boxed up and stashed next to the Ark of the Covenant in some secure Agency warehouse out in the middle of nowhere."
"The Ark of the Covenant?"
"Raiders of the Lost Ark? Indiana Jones?" He gave her a scandalized look. "You watched it with me a month ago. You said you liked it."
The corner of her mouth curled. "I know, I'm just teasing. And yes, I liked the movie, but I liked what we did during the movie even more. Remember how it took a week for us to get through it?"
He sat very still and his eyes took on a faraway look.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. "Chuck."
His head jerked. "Sorry. I was remembering."
She smirked. "I'll bet." Squeezing his arm, she caught his eye. "Let's not make a decision about this right now. Let's talk about it some more tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
They went back to their dinners with gusto. While they ate, they chatted about the kids, Chuck's work and her impromptu meeting with Carina in Paris. When Sarah was finally sated, she placed the cloth napkin on the table and leaned back in her chair.
He looked down at her empty plate, a pleased smile gracing his face.
(sung to the tune "Till There Was You"*)
Chuck:
There were growls in the air
Emanating from your stomach,
'Cause it really needed some food,
So I fed you.
You ate steak and some carbs,
And had lovely wine for drinking,
A nice cabernet sauvignon
To relax you.
There could be dessert.
There could be chocolate cream pie.
Just tell me
If you want me to order it for you.
Now your zonked, I can tell
That it's nearly time for sleeping.
Know that I all this simply was done
'Cause I love you.
She grinned and looked at her plate. She had absolutely demolished her meal. "I guess I was kind of hungry," she said abashed.
"Would you like dessert?"
As she leaned back in her chair, a wave of fatigue crashed over her. It all hit her at once: the full stomach, the wine, the incredibly long day and being reunited with Chuck. "Maybe later. Would you mind if I go take a shower?"
"Of course not. Go!" he said, shooing her away. "I'll take care of this," indicating the meal detritus.
She remained sitting at the table, staring vacantly at the budvase. He snickered, took her by the hand and pulled her out of the chair. "Come on." Before she knew it, he had led her to the bedroom. He flipped on the bathroom light and turned on the shower. He took the small bag he had stowed in the Porsche and put it on the bed.
"I thought you might need some clean clothes, so the girls helped me pack a few things for you. I put the essentials in, but I have no idea what else might be in here," he explained as he unzipped the bag. She couldn't wait to see what the girls had packed, so she stood next to him as they both peered inside.
On the very top of everything, was as a book with a yellow stickie on the front with the words, "In case you need something to read."
"Bridget," they said simultaneously.
He took the book out and looked at the cover. "A Wrinkle in Time. I could read that again," he said and tossed it on the bed. He looked down inside the bag again and said under his breath, "Oh boy."
The book's removal had revealed a lacy black negligee. She took it out of the bag, held it up by the straps and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I didn't put that in there," he babbled. "I brought something else for you to sleep in!" He rifled through the bag and pulled out a pair of boy shorts and his old Stanford t-shirt. Ever since Julie, their housekeeper, had put it in Sarah's room by accident, Sarah had claimed ownership of it. He held up the sleepwear he'd packed. "See?"
She kissed his cheek. "Chuck, it's fine. I believe you. I'm sure Lizzie and Lisa put this in there," she said, carefully laying the negligee on the bed. "Just like I'm sure Martie and Megan put these in there." Chuck's digging through the bag for her shorts and t-shirt had thrown their two youngest nieces' contribution onto the bed. She held up a pair of colorful knee high socks.
He burst out laughing. "I wouldn't laugh too hard," she teased, heading for the bathroom. "I would check your own bag if I were you."
She giggled when she saw him pick up his bag as she closed the bathroom door. The room was filled with steam. She peeled off the clothes she felt like she had been wearing for three days and piled them on the counter. Stepping into the shower, she was surprised to find that the water fell on her from directly above. It was strange at first, but then she quickly realized how nice it was as the hot water washed over her.
She just stood there, the water falling on her like rain, sweeping away the previous forty hours. As wonderful as the hot water felt on her tired body, she finally forced herself to turn off the faucet before she fell asleep. After toweling herself dry, she wrapped herself in a thick terrycloth bathrobe and stepped into the bedroom.
Chuck had leaned his back against the ornate wooden headboard, feet crossed at the ankles, and was watching something on TV.
Running a comb through her wet hair, she asked, "Why don't you take your shoes off and get comfortable?"
"I did."
She frowned. "I can see you're wearing your black chucks from here."
"Come closer."
She padded over to the bed, looked at his feet and laughed.
"You were right," he said. "Martie and Megan, with a little help from Lizzie most likely, left me a little something in my bag."
It was true. He had indeed taken his shoes off and put on the socks the girls had put in his bag. The foot of each sock was covered with a design that looked like black chucks.
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed and shook her head. "I know some day the girls will understand the real meaning of 'socks,' but I hope they never stop surprising us with them."
He nodded. "Hopefully it will become a family tradition. They're important." He laid his arm across the top of the propped up pillows inviting her to join him. She slid across the bed, snuggled into his side and rested her head on his chest. Glancing at the TV, she asked, "What are you watching?"
"Revenge of the Sith."
She patted his chest and said sleepily, "My nerd."
"Your nerd," he agreed and started to explain the general plot, but all she heard was his soothing voice rumbling in his chest. It felt like her bones had liquefied as she melted against his body. The words "Galactic Republic" sounded far away and were the last to penetrate her sleepy haze.
~ O ~
When Sarah woke up, she had no idea what time it was or how long she had been asleep. With the blackout curtains covering the windows, it could have been two o'clock in the afternoon and she wouldn't have known. She had a vague dreamlike recollection of Chuck waking her long enough for her to put on her t-shirt and shorts and crawl under the covers. At that time, the clock on the nightstand had read half past twelve. Now, the only thing she was sure of was that it was later than that.
As much as she wanted to stay nestled in the warm, soft bed with the luxurious sheets, nature called. She waited a moment, hoping it would pass and she could go back to sleep without having to leave the arms that enveloped her. The longer she lay there, though, the more she realized she was fighting a losing battle. She unwillingly slipped out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
Returning to the bedroom, and much to her disappointment, she noticed that Chuck had rolled over, his back now facing her side of the bed. Dammit. As she approached the bed, she noticed the black negligee still laying on top it. A tiny smile curled her lips. She changed her nightclothes quickly and slipped back under the covers. Life is full of surprises, Chuck. You have your surprises. I have mine.
The red numbers on the clock informed her that it was a little after four a.m., which was six a.m. in Washington and noon in Paris. She sighed, knowing that sleep might not come to her again for the rest of the morning. She had been in Europe for a little less than a week, but it had been plenty of time to mess with her internal clock.
In the dark, she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Letting her mind wander, she thought of the assignment she was returning from. It had been great to get back into the swing of going on missions. It was the first since she came back from her "leave of absence" after she had killed Shaw, the Fulcrum mole who had tried to steal Project Sun Ray and threated to kill Chuck a few months ago. The exhilaration and adrenaline of being on a mission reminded her of how much she loved being a spy. Chuck and the kids had been nothing but supportive when she decided to stay with the Agency. She smiled in the dark when she thought of the look of pure wonder on Megan's face after Sarah told her junior spy that she would be gone for a few days. Megan had literally jumped around with excitement. But reflecting on this mission, she knew it was different now, now that she had a husband and family.
It reminded her of something Chuck had said when he had returned from the software conference he had attended for three days soon after she had become his and the kids' protector. The two of them had been sitting out on the balcony, drinking their morning coffee, talking about what had happened during his time away. It was then that he'd confessed to her that he'd looked forward to being on his own for a few days with no responsibilities, like it had been before he had become the kids' guardian. He'd said he'd only been at the conference for a couple hours when he realized he already missed the kids, and her. Her stomach flipped when she remembered the look on his face that beautiful fall morning.
Now, she truly understood what he'd meant. She'd thought going on the mission to Paris would be just like any mission she had been on before Chuck and the kids. Yes, there had been the fun and excitement. But this time, things were different. She'd only been on the airplane for only about two hours when she started missing Chuck and the kids. She thought of them the whole time she was gone and couldn't wait to get home to them. The Agency wasn't her whole life anymore and she was okay with that. But she wasn't ready to give it up completely, either. She was good at her job and she still loved it. Sighing, she realized she was grappling with what most women struggled with—balancing family and work, even if the work was as a spy. Carina would give me so much crap for all this navel gazing, she thought, stifling a chuckle so as not to wake her sleeping husband.
As if cued, Chuck rolled over again and threw an arm over her. Happily, she turned onto her side and scooted back so that they were spooning. She took his arm and pulled it tighter around her. In his sleep, he approved of his arrangement by shifting so that there was little space between their bodies. Even if I don't sleep the rest of the night, I'm okay with this.
She was asleep in two minutes.
~ O ~
A/N the second: *From The Music Man, original music and lyrics by Meredith Willson.
Now, technically, I didn't lie when I said in the A/N for the first chapter that I wasn't going to include lyrics in this story. It was true when I wrote that. I really wasn't going to. But then ziohenry mentioned the Doors, Kurt Weill and Bobby Darrin. And coreymon77 said that it sucked that where weren't going to be any more songs. And Michael66 had to go and write crazy lyrics to "Mack the Knife" (you should go read them in the reviews section for this story). P.J. Murphy twisted the knife with "Oh, I hope you change your mind on the music, though. Anything you can think of will work." ("That's true," the evil voice in my head whispered in temptation.) All this came after AgentInWaiting and Frea O'Scanlin asked if songs would be included before the first chapter ever even posted.
"No! I won't!" I said to myself.
And then the songs for this chapter and the next two just hit me out of nowhere. What can I say? I'm weak. I can't promise there will be one for every chapter (remember, there were chapters in Chuck vs. the Sound of Music that didn't have songs, either). I will, however, endeavor (for Aerox) to keep musical references in each chapter whether or not there are lyrics.
In conclusion, all I can say is, "They're heeeeeeere."