AN: I'll finish it up tonigt or tomorrow.
Relationship Speedwagon: Say You Love Me or Say Goodnight
When I look back on that night in the SUV, it brings a smile to my face. Sarah put up quite a fight. She could be a lawyer, if she ever gave up on the cloak and dagger business. In the end, I managed to convince her that giving us a shot was her best option. We then had a very scintillating kiss that would have gone on forever, if Casey hadn't chosen that moment to start cursing out the store manager.
We've officially been together for three months. We kept it from Casey, until he found us making out in the Herder. He was surprisingly understanding. I got the feeling that Sarah was holding something over his head. Neither of them would confirm or deny my suspicions. It really wasn't that important to me because Casey promised to keep it out of his reports, as long as we didn't let it affect our missions.
Other than thwarting bomb plots and taking down drug king pins, Sarah and I have managed to be a relatively normal couple. We cook each other dinner. Well, she does most of the cooking, since I fit the stereotypical male mold in the culinary department. I was more than surprised to find out how great she is at cooking. Sometimes, I'll sit in the kitchen and watch her, throwing a 'bam' in every once and a while. The last time I tried it, however, I found a knife lodged in the sheetrock about two inches from my head. She just smiled sweetly at me like it was no big deal. I don't think I will reference Emeril again this decade.
Tonight, I did the cooking and while I was not overly pleased with it, Sarah insisted that it was good, which really just meant it was edible. Ellie and Awesome had night shifts, so it's just the two of us snuggled up on the couch, watching some cheesy Lifetime movie. A commercial comes on and I take the time to plant kisses along Sarah's hairline.
"I love you," I whisper in her ear.
She tenses, before burrowing deeper into my embrace. Her mouth remains shut. My heart constricts. No matter how many reactions I get just like this, I always hope that the next time will be different. Sarah told me that night in the SUV that she was not yet ready to voice her feelings. I accepted her terms because I, myself, had just recently had my revelation. But weeks went by and she barely uttered anything close to a phrase of affection. She is fine when it comes to expressing things physically. Her touches are like magic, sending jolts throughout my body, but those instances aren't enough to assuage my concern. I need to hear her commitment. I'm not a mind reader.
Just as I did that night on our stakeout, I ready myself to have a life changing conversation. Pulling away from Sarah, I wipe my hands up and down my jean covered thighs. My girlfriend looks at me in confusion, her lips slightly parted.
"What's wrong," she asks.
"We need to talk," I answer, physically putting some distance between the two of us.
She stays still, waiting for me to elaborate.
"I need to hear you say you love me or give me some kind a verbal sign that you are in this relationship." My words are said quickly, but my message is clear.
"Chuck," she sighs.
I shake my head. "No. No, oh Chuck. I can't keep initiating everything. I can't pretend that it doesn't hurt when you shut your eyes to my words. If you don't feel that way yet or don't think you ever will, just tell me. Tell me so that I'm not floundering in the Pacific without knowing which direction to swim."
She looks at me intently, studying my soul through my eyes. I hope to god that she can tell how serious I am, that she knows this is a do or die moment. My love for her is great, but everyone has their breaking point. I refuse to have a one-sided romance.
"I've never said it to anyone before," she whispers so softly that I barely hear.
"No one," I ask, incredulous.
She rolls her eyes. "I've said it to family, of course, but never friends or boyfriends."
"There's always a first time for everything," I reassure, taking her hand. I don't want to pressure her to tell me something. I just want her to know that I care.
She flips my palm up and begins to trace the lifelines. "I'm not even sure I know what love is."
I pull my hand away, cup her chin, and force her to look me in the eyes. Dropping my arm, I try to formulate the proper thoughts in my mind. "Love is waking up and immediately thinking about someone. It's looking into a person's eyes and wanting to stay there forever. It's wondering if your clothes will be acceptable or learning how to sew so you can fix their favorite stuffed animal."
I stop my monologue to ensure that I still have her full attention. "I finally figured out I was hopelessly in love with you because my stomach would lurch every time you smiled. It's all the things I described and it's everything. It's just something you feel, something you know."
I avert my gaze. The weight of what I just confessed is too heavy for me to chance rejection right away. Gaining courage, I once again lock my eyes with hers. The silence is oppressive.
"My mouth goes dry whenever I see you," she says, before sealing our lips in a kiss