Hello! Here it is, the final chapter of Part III.
Thank you all for your fine reviews. I was surprised and very relieved at the lack of flaming (so far). Those of you who had criticism were very polite about it. Again, thank you.
Please keep up the reviews!
Thanks to my wife and Anon for all their editing patience and goodness.
I've gotta get cracking on Part IV. Might be a little bit, but it WILL HAPPEN!
In the meantime, here we go.
Addendum: AAARRRGGGHHH!!!! Something happened during the document downloading process, and some of the things I put in italics were un-italicized AND it seems to have rearranged sentences! I'm going in to fix it. For those of you who read before the edit, this won't make sense, otherwise. Please let me know if something doesn't make sense. Thanks.
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At 8 p.m. Sarah walked into the hotel room.
Chuck greeted her, but didn't try to hug her though he wanted to.
Sarah returned the greeting, but she wasn't smiling. "Grab your coat," she said.
Chuck raised his eyebrows, his face a question.
She said, "If we're going to do this, we'd better start now. There'll be a lot of places to go to."
Chuck sadly said, "Sarah, if this is going to make you miserable-"
"It's going to make both of us miserable," she interrupted. "Let's get it done so we can move on."
They knocked on Casey's door and explained. Casey was shocked to put it mildly, but he was also game.
"It should be fun to watch this experiment," he grinned.
Sarah said, "Good. You can have fun for both of us."
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Some time after they were on their way, Casey asked, "So how many bars do we intend to hit?"
Chuck replied, "As many as we can until I either stop blanking out, or all of them close."
Sarah said nothing. She had been silent since they entered the car, letting the men make the plans.
Although they were taking one vehicle this time, Sarah would still enter and exit separately.
Chuck's job would be to observe Sarah in action for a half-hour once she had successfully engaged her mark. Assuming he had been able to remain conscious, he would then walk up and brush by her, as he was supposed to do with Greene, though in this case, a handoff would be unnecessary of course.
However, if Chuck were to blank out, Casey would escort him out of the establishment and back to the vehicle. Sarah would then find an excuse to exit, go back to the car, and they'd be off to the next place.
They intended to stay far away from Tavern Ameasus. Although Greene's profile indicated he only went there once a week, they didn't want to take chances. Additionally, they would go to places some distance from each other to minimize the chance of recurring contacts with patrons.
Chuck periodically stole wary glances at Sarah, terrified that he had pushed her too far. Part of him wondered if he should call this off, but she had agreed, and he had a feeling that trying to reopen the discussion would only antagonize her more. There was nothing to do but push forward at this point, and pray for success. He just hoped that this whole mess hadn't done irreparable damage to them.
They arrived at the first spot. Without a word, Sarah exited the vehicle and was on her way. It had begun.
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Take One:
Chuck and Casey entered the bar to discover that Sarah had already located her mark. Apparently, she wanted to not waste any time. More likely, she wanted to get this distasteful adventure over with as soon as possible.
As they sat down at a booth with good line of sight, Chuck and Casey considered her choice. This guy was a jock type. Chiseled jaw. He rivaled Captain Awesome in handsomeness.
"Good choice," commented Casey.
Chuck muttered testily, "Y'know, if I am to have any hope of surviving this, you might want to ixnay on the cracks, OK?"
"Aw, you're no fun, Bartowski. Should I order you a drink or are you gonna be too stoned to enjoy it?"
Chuck didn't bother replying. He was staring at Sarah and her man. Chuck began to breathe deeply. Not anxiously, though. He had previously taken a breathing class. (He did live in California, after all.)
Breathe in through the nose. Let the life-giving oxygen gradually enter the top of your body, where it will spread out through your extremities, charging your every pore. From there, the energy will seep down until it reaches your feet, exiting to merge with the Earth below, before it rises back to you from the Earth, through the booth. I wonder if the energy is meant to go through a booth? Does the booth degrade the energy? What's a booth made of anyway besides foam?Suddenly aware that he had been holding his breathing too long, Chuck exhaled it in a sharp gasp.
Casey looked at Chuck as if he were an extraterrestrial.
Chuck took another deep breath, and tried focusing his gaze back on Sarah and Jock Boy.
OK, relax Chuck. This kind of guy is clearly not her type. Yes, she's laughing and giving him that great big smile, and making eye contact with those exquisite blue… OK, stop. Breathe. Take a deep breath. There you go. This is not any problem at all. All right. She's putting her hand just a centimeter or two away from his. Ah, that's a touch, yes, it's a touch, I do confess it. There you go, Chuck, bring Shakespeare lines into this, that'll keep you calm. To be or not to be conscious while watching Sarah play footsies with a football player. Does he play football? I'll bet he does. But it matters not, because, oh, did I say they were playing footsies? Because now they are playing footsies. That's fine though, nothing at all wrong with a little footsies. See, this is fine. You're breathing, you're relaxed, and this isn't torture at all. See? I even said the word. Torture. Torture, torture, torture. Not a problem. You can even sing it. Tor-tuuuurrreee... Torture, tort-
Casey looked at the blank-faced, slightly grinning form of Chuck Bartowksi, and wondered if he could get Chuck to pee, by putting his hand in a bowl of warm water.
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Take Two:
"Under no circumstances, whatsoever, are you to think of the word, 'Torture', you got that?"
"Great, Casey, now you've just ensured that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to think that word again and again."
This time, Sarah had picked a man so blonde, his hair was almost white.
Ah, look at him. A nice perfect Aryan. They'll have the most beautiful babies, and she'll stay home to raise them, while he goes off to slaughter a few million Jews.
What the Hell is wrong with me?
OK, Chuck, get it together, and just remember she is with you. Not the almost-Albino, there. He may look sophisticated and wear nice clothes and probably has an accent, but you are Chuck Bartowski, and you can do anything. All you have to do is believe in yourself. I can do this. I can so do this.
He couldn't do it.
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Take Three:
The failed attempt this time could not, in all fairness, be attributed to Chuck.
Sarah, having become extremely frustrated, suffered from a lapse of patience.
"Hi, you want to make out?" she asked the first man who sat next to her, in a voice that clearly couldn't be more disinterested.
The patron gulped and replied, "Um, sorry, I- I don't cheat on my wife."
The bartender leaned over the counter and said, "No soliciting, Lady. Move on, or I call a cop."
Sarah rolled her eyes, and stepped off the barstool.
She walked back to Chuck and Casey who both had their mouths dropped open.
Chuck said, "Well, that... that was-"
Sarah slammed her palms flat on the table. "Are you actually going to say something?"
A wide-eyed Chuck shook his head very fast.
"Next place," she growled walking ahead to the exit.
Chuck and Casey followed at a distance.
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Take Four:
Sarah seemed even more angry than she had been this entire evening, if that was possible, but when they exited the car for the next establishment, she turned to Chuck and her expression had become determined.
"Listen. You need to take deep breaths when you're in there. You need to focus on something relaxing."
Chuck shook his head. "I've tried that. I swear, I have tried that."
"Then try harder. If relaxing doesn't work, focus on the mission."
Casey casually said, "Focus on the fact that if you keep this up, Walker is gonna cut off your balls and stuff 'em down your throat."
Both Chuck and Sarah stopped cold and glared at Casey.
Well, Chuck kept glaring. A moment later, Sarah's angry frown gradually turned into the only real smile she had experienced this evening.
"Y'know what? That's a good idea! Thanks Casey!"
Without looking at Chuck, she turned back to walk toward the bar. She was whistling.
Both men watched her go, then Chuck began to glare at Casey again.
"You're welcome," said the Colonel. Then with a grin, he turned and followed Walker, whistling himself.
And then it was on.
Chuck focused on relaxing.
He focused on the mission.
He even focused on what he was doing to Sarah, and to what she might do to him.
To his credit, he lasted twenty minutes. His record for the evening.
As Casey escorted Chuck out, Sarah watched over the shoulder of her latest mark.
She didn't bother trying to keep up her smile.
"Hey, something wrong?" asked "What's-his-name".
She glanced back at him in surprise. She had forgotten he was there.
"Um, actually, I'm not feeling well. Sorry, but I think I need to go."
"Well, hey, why don't I see you home? I got some first aid experience."
"Thank you, but no." She grabbed her purse and walked out of the bar.
A moment later, "What's-his-name" was beside her, outside in the parking lot.
"Hey, Babe, no offense, but I don't take well to a woman hitting up on me for drinks then saying she's got a headache."
Sarah looked at him coolly, then reached into her purse, and pulled out a Twenty. "This should cover it," she said as she handed it to him.
"Nah, I don't think so," What's-his-name said. Then he grabbed Sarah's hand, and twisted it.
Sarah let out a gasp of pain. She must have been really out of it to let a person like this take her by surprise.
She gave him a smile that was actually tender. "Thank you," she said.
She then grabbed "What's-his-name's" head and smashed it into the hood of a nearby Volvo.
Twice.
After "What's-his-name" fell down unconscious, his face a shattered mess, Sarah began to walk away. She then stopped, considered a moment, and left the Twenty on his chest.
She walked back to the van, absently rubbing her wrist.
When she entered, Chuck had just woken up.
"Took you awhile," said Casey.
"I had a run-in with a guy who wouldn't take 'no'.
"Hm. He alive?"
"Yeah, I was merci-"
She stopped as her gaze happened on Chuck.
He was staring at her injured wrist, his eyes wide.
A second later those eyes began to flutter.
"Casey!"
Casey turned, and seeing, said, "Aw crap. Keep him in the van!"
Chuck's eyes returned to normalcy. But the next words he said were completely monotone.
"Where is he?"
Casey moved close to Chuck putting himself between the younger man and the exit.
Sarah quickly said, "I knocked him out, Chuck. You don't need to do anything. It is already taken care of. Do you understand me? Chuck?"
Slowly, Chuck's intense gaze diminished. His eyes went back to look at Sarah's hand.
"We're done," he said in a low voice.
Casey and Sarah looked at each other, then back at Chuck.
"What- what do you mean, Chuck?" she asked.
"The problem's solved. I'm not going to blank out again."
"How can you be sure?"
"I'm sure. As sure as I've ever been about anything. It will not happen again."
Casey rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then said, "I'm sorry, but that's not gonna cut it."
Sarah turned to the Colonel, "But-"
"No buts. As the kid said before, we can't test this during an actual mission."
Chuck said, "I don't want to put you through this again, Sarah."
She stared at him, then said, "You're sure it's fixed?"
"I'm sure."
She took his hands. "Then show me."
Slowly, Chuck nodded.
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Final Take:
As they left the car, Casey turned to Sarah and said, "Don't hold back. We want to make sure this works."
Sarah looked at Chuck who said, "He's right."
She didn't hold back.
She found the most attractive man in the place. She seduced him using all the charm available to her. Twenty minutes later she had gotten the man to paw and kiss her very intensely. She gave back as good as she got.
Chuck watched the whole thing, his face sad but resolved.
Ten minutes after that, he brushed past her as planned.
Then, they went back to the hotel, all of them silent.
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When they arrived at the hotel, Casey stopped Sarah for a moment before she could enter the room. Chuck hardly gave a glance at them, but walked in to the room, and closed the door.
"You OK?" Casey asked.
"I don't know," she replied.
"Do you need me to stay with him again?"
Sarah's smile was tired but grateful. "I think I'll be able to manage, but thank you."
She turned around, but was stopped when Casey spoke again.
"I don't know how you're going to pull this off. There's a reason you're not supposed to do this. You're doing it, anyway. I would never think of doing what you're doing." He paused, and just as Sarah thought he was done, he added, "More power to you." Then she heard him close the door.
She whispered to herself, "We'll need it."
When she came in, he wasn't in the main room.
She walked to the bathroom and opened the door.
Chuck was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His face was downcast. Forlorn. His body was shaking a little.
Sarah stood in front of him. "Your plan worked," she said in a neutral voice.
Chuck said nothing. He didn't look at her.
Sarah said, "I guess the need to protect me from harm trumps jealousy, huh?"
He still didn't look up, but he said, "Sure. It protects you from anybody but me. I hurt you. Sarah, I hurt you." His voice was weak, hoarse.
She nodded. "You did."
"I can't make this better."
"'I'm sorry' is always a good place to start."
"Apologize for this? This is unforgivable."
"That isn't for you to decide, is it?"
She crouched down so she was on his level. She lifted his chin so their eyes could meet.
"Try," she whispered.
He seemed to be struggling, but he finally spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you here. I'm sorry for all the times I've hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you."
She shook her head.
"If only that could be avoided. But you don't want to hurt me. I know that. I know."
"Don't do this again?"
A sad smile slowly formed on his lips. He took a shaking breath. "This, specifically? I think that's a reasonable promise."
"Good."
She stood up, grabbed his hands and pulled him to stand.
She turned to leave the bathroom, when he asked, "Why are you staying?"
Sarah stopped.
Because even you hurting me makes me feel alive.
Because even when you screw up, you're the best man I know.
Because I love you.
She turned around and looked at him.
"Because this is only our first fight since getting together. We're going to have to have a lot more than this before we call it quits."
He sighed, nodding.
They brushed their teeth.
Sarah got into bed.
A minute later, she turned.
He was standing there at the foot of the bed, a question on his face.
She said, "You'd better get in here. One week, and I'm already having problems going to sleep unless you're holding me."
Chuck smiled. He got into bed.
Ten minutes after the light was turned off, Chuck was almost asleep when she said,
"I'm not perfect either, you know."
Chuck tightened his grip on her. "You could have fooled me."
She smiled.
They slept.