AU novella. Herded by circumstance, Chuck falls on hard times and into a life of crime. But his new job does not go according to his plan.
Dying to Death
CHAPTER FOUR
Endings and Beginnings
Part One
Water Burial
Chuck stared up the stairs. He heard the bedroom door slam. The sound, though not unexpected, made him jump. He started up after Sarah but then stopped where she had stood before, on the first step.
He suddenly understood what Sarah meant when she told him he could not stop her. She did not mean or did not only mean, that eventually she would escape his watch and do what she had planned to do. No, she-also-meant that he could not stop her.
She was a trained spy, comfortable with guns and knives and physical struggle. Chuck had not punched anyone since he punched a bully for mistreating Morgan in junior high. He had never touched a gun until he touched Sarah's.
If Sarah wanted to do it, she could force it; he really could not stop her. The gun was upstairs, under the blankets on the floor where he put it after he got up. The cartridge and magazine were still inside the pillowcase. She could easily find both. She probably knew where they were all along. It made no sense to try to stop her physically. She would do it if she wanted to do it: that was true and he made himself repeat it.
Why was he there? Why keep trying to delay her, to find some argument to bring her around? He could not keep her if she wanted to leave, permanently leave. He did not understand her, what had happened to her, what she had done. How was chicken pepperoni supposed to even her score?
He turned and retreated to the kitchen. He stood there for a while, his hands deep in his pockets, his head hanging low. After a bit, he sighed and went out to his truck. He got in and put the keys in the ignition. He started the engine. He gunned it a couple of times, watching the door, hoping she would emerge, stop him. But she never came. His vision blurred and he wiped his eyes. He was lucky he had not been caught, that no neighbor had gotten curious about the strange truck parked out front. Maybe the best thing to do was leave. Maybe this...whatever it was...had gone belly-up, maybe it was just...over. He started to put the truck into gear when his phone beeped. He put the truck out of gear and fished out his phone.
He had a text from Morgan.
Sorry, Chuck. I didn't want to respond until I was sure you finished the job. I knew if I responded or came home you would talk me into continuing. This is no life for me, Chuck. It's no life for you. You still have so much potential, man. Find your path. -M.
Chuck read the text several times. It was by far the longest text Morgan had sent him. Chuck felt something inside him, something that had already been shifting, turning, click over. Morgan-Morgan!-was right. This was no life for Chuck. Jail or Hell.
Hell, no.
He had met the woman of his dreams. Admittedly, the circumstances were not normal. But maybe that was Chuck's mistake, thinking that if he could not have the normal life he pictured for himself after Stanford, that he could have no life at all. Maybe he should just give up on the life he had pictured and find the life he could live. But, he knew, he needed her to do it. He needed Sarah.
He shut down the engine and got out. He ran back into the house and sprinted up the stairs. The bedroom door was open. Sarah was nowhere to be seen. The white heels were on the floor.
His heart sinking, he ran into the bathroom. The tub was empty. She was not there. He went downstairs. He looked out the back door and saw Sarah. The pool lights were on.
She was floating in the pool, motionless.
ooOoo
Chuck threw open the door and charged the pool. He dove in headfirst. Swimming to Sarah, he got hold of her, his arms around her and the white dress she still had on. He swam desperately for the side of the pool, then, holding Sarah's head above water, he clambered out. As he had when she was in the tub, he put his arms underneath hers and hoisted her from the pool. He put her down gently on the edge, half on the concrete that surrounded the pool, half on the manicured grass. She did not respond.
"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah! God, don't be gone. Please, please!" He opened her mouth and breathed into it, then he compressed her chest with his hands. Still, no response. He repeated the two steps. Nothing. No response. "Sarah, come back to me. I need you. Sarah!" I don't even know your last name. Smith? No. Sarah, please.
He started to breathe into her mouth again when she spat pool water into his face. She sputtered and coughed. Her eyes focused and focused on him. "Chuck!" She threw her arms around him and pulled him tight against her. "Chuck!"
He held her, the water in her dress soaking into his clothes unnoticed.
"You didn't leave me. You came for me! You came back!"
"I will always come back for you, Sarah," he whispered into her ear. He felt her lips against his neck, kissing him over and over. Chuck put his arms beneath her and lifted her up. He carried her across the threshold and back into the house.
He put her down on the sectional. "I'll be right back." She nodded. He ran up the stairs to the bathroom and grabbed more towels, then ran back down. Sarah was sitting up, holding herself, shivering. He put a towel around her shoulders and, lifting her slightly, put one beneath her. He put another over her lap. He sat down beside her and pulled her to him, sharing his body heat with her. They sat that way, damp and silent, for a little while.
Finally, she turned her head to look into his eyes. "I tried not to, Chuck. When I felt the water closing in, I tried to get out, to get out and to find you. I'm good at finding people. But I waited too long. I sank and could not get out. I don't want to die, Chuck. I just...I just don't want to be alone anymore, hopeless anymore. And, with you, I don't have to be."
"It's okay, Sarah. It's okay. I am here. I am not leaving. I can't leave you. I don't want to be alone or hopeless anymore either." Sarah threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He rubbed her shoulders and let her cry.
Her sobs lessened, ended. She sat back. "Chuck, the things I did for my job. Maybe they were justified, but they were tearing me apart. I thought for a while I could live with them, thought things were changing. But they didn't. I knew I had to quit. I did. I quit. I went into Langley and gave Langston Graham, the Director, my resignation. But everything soured. My plans...fell apart. I did not know how to be anything else, did not know what else to be. The past chased me around. I got tired of running from it. So very, very tired…"
"Shhh...Sarah, it is okay. It's the past. As you said, you can start again."
"Can I, Chuck? Will you start again with me?"
He made sure he was looking her in the eyes when he answered: "Yes, Sarah, I will. Right now."
Sarah caught his lips in a kiss. He could feel her against him, her warmth returning, his increasing. He picked her up again and carried her up the stairs. Her arms were around his neck, her face hidden there.
Once in the bedroom, he put her down on her feet. He unzipped the dress and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it. She stood before him in only her panties. She pushed them over her hips and let them join the dress on the floor. He took off his clothes. She pulled him to her and then backed to the bed. She got in, keeping her eyes on him. He got in too, taking the spot she left for him beside her. She reached down and pulled the blankets over them both, then she wrapped herself around him as she had been that morning. Her skin was warm now. His too. He held her against him and her damp hair spread across his chest. They fell asleep at the same time, wrapped together, warm, and still warming each other.
ooOoo
At some point in the night, Chuck did not know when exactly, they both woke up.
They made love in eager, mutual abandon, but without hurry, discovering each other, and discovering themselves together. They both wept when it was over the first time, then each kissed away the other's tears and they made love again, and again. Each called out the other's name as they finished.
Eventually, they fell asleep once more.
ooOoo
Chuck woke up to find two blue eyes studying him once more. The eyes were open, deep, unguarded. He lifted his head a bit from the pillow. "What are you studying, Sarah? Oh, and what is your last name?"
She chuckled. "Walker. I am Sarah Walker. And yours?"
"Bartowski. I am Chuck Bartowski."
Her gaze became reflective. "'Bartowski', huh. Kind of a mouthful." She blushed.
So did Chuck. "Um...Yes, it is. And you are studying?"
"I am studying Chuck Bartowski. You are kind of a mind-full, you know that. A puzzling and unprecedented man, at least in my experience. I'm not sure I will ever quite understand you, or how you showed up here when I needed you most. It's like you fell from the sky."
"A goose-laid golden egg?"
She chuckled again. "Something like that. But I was also just checking…"
"Checking?"
"To make sure you are real. And still here."
"Yes to both...Miss Walker?"
"Yes, that's right. I'm assuming there's no Mrs. Bartowski."
"No Mrs. Bartowski."
"Good. I was confident. After everything last night…"
"Me, too. And you are still here?"
Sarah looked down for a minute. "Yes, here, and staying."
"Good. I was confident. After everything last night…"
"I know. I'm sorry, Chuck."
"I'm sorry too. I should never have contemplated leaving."
"I pushed you to leave, Chuck. Some part of me didn't believe you would stay and that same part of me wanted to treat that as a final verdict. I had already decided on the sentence…" Her voice grew small as she finished.
"Well, we are starting over, together. No more thieving. No more spying. No more...despair."
She smiled. "No more. But I do need to tell you more, Chuck. More about me, about my situation."
He reached out to cup her cheek. "I know I'm chatty, Sarah, an 'articulate burglar'...er...ex-burglar, but if it is okay with you, I'd like to be a man of action this morning."
Sarah looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Chuck threw the blanket over his head and started a trail of kisses down her body.
"Oh! Oh! Oh...oh...Action is good..."
They dispensed with words for a while, other than their names.
ooOoo
They were in the kitchen later. Sarah had on Chuck's t-shirt and nothing else. It was just long enough to allow him to focus on the pancakes he was making, to keep from burning them. She was standing where she stood when he made the omelet, but leaning against the kitchen island. There was a looseness, an elasticity in her posture that Chuck had not seen before.
He took it to be a good sign. He noticed her smile at him as she caught his lingering glance.
She had a cup of coffee in her hand and was running her finger around the edge of the cup, almost as if she was trying to stir the steam rising from it. Her smile loitered on her face.
"Pancakes are almost ready," Chuck announced. "More coffee?"
"No, I've got plenty. It's good."
Chuck picked up his cup and took a sip. He put the cup down. He took the spatula and lifted the last pancake out of the pan. He put it atop the stack he had already made and started to pick up the plate when Sarah's hand came to rest on his. She was standing next to him but he had not heard her move.
Using her other hand, she rubbed his cheek. "Chuck, thank you for the cooking, the talking, for last night...and this morning. But are you sure about all this? I mean, you've twice pulled me from the water...Aren't you worried, afraid? Are you really sure I can start again?"
"Yes, Sarah. He reached up to take her hand, kissing it. "I know you've suffered. I know that there will still be bad days, bad nights. But, if you let me, I will keep you from facing them alone." He kissed her hand again. "I will let you keep me from facing mine alone. Partners?"
Sarah grimaced slightly. "What, Sarah?"
"Nothing, just a word with tricky associations for me."
"Did you have a partner when you were in the CIA?"
"Well," she hesitated, "I was once part of a team-a team of female spies."
Chuck furrowed his brow in disbelief. "Like Charlie's Angels?"
Sarah gave him a frowny smirk. "That's one pop culture reference I get. Yes, sort of like that."
"What happened?'
"One of the other three women betrayed us. The evidence pointed to one of the women I liked most. She passed a lie detector test, but…"
"So, have you seen her since?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, and I haven't talked to her. It's been years now. She's still CIA; I hear about her now and then, but no contact."
"What about the others?"
"One I was never really close to. She's still in the game I think, but I haven't even heard anything about her. The other was my best friend, or as close to one as I have ever had. Neither of us is an...easy person, and she stands out as difficult among difficult people. Her name is Carina. She's DEA, not CIA, and she's been in deep cover for a long time, almost two years."
"So, she was gone before you quit?"
Sarah nodded. "I don't know if she knows I quit."
"So, the one person you might have had to talk to was unreachable."
"More or less," Sarah said, shrugging, picking up the pancake plate and heading to the table. Chuck grabbed the syrup and butter and followed her.
"After you quit, what did you do?" Chuck was as casual as he could manage with the question, trying to make sure his tone conveyed that she could refuse to answer. She seemed to understand, and she gave him a quick, thankful look, but she offered an answer.
"I got hired by the FBI."
"No! Sarah, I have to say, talking to you is a little like watching a Sesame Street episode. All letters, all the time."
She laughed, an easy, whole-bodied laugh. "I never thought about it. Just call me Big Bird."
Chuck looked at her. Then he shuddered. "Guess your youth was not wholly misspent. But, um, no, I think I will keep you and Big Bird in very different mental locations." He shuddered again.
They sat down and divided the stack of pancakes. They were both hungry, and so ate rapidly and silently for a time. Sarah made a happy, sighing sound and put down her fork. "So good. You are going to make me fat, Chuck."
He gave her a pleased nod. "I doubt it. We have pretty nearly exhausted my culinary artistry. But I like cooking for you; I want to keep doing it. And I am curious about your omelets…"
"Soon, Chuck. Say, Chuck," Sarah's face changed, grew serious, and her voice dropped in volume as it rose in inflection, "I heard the truck start last night; I thought you left. What stopped you?"
Chuck got his phone from his pocket and called up Morgan's text. He handed the phone to Sarah. She read it in silence. She seemed to read it a second time. She handed the phone back to Chuck. "It's like...like a sign or something." Her tone was reverent, awestruck.
Chuck leaned toward her and touched her hand, focused entirely on her. "No, Sarah. You were the sign; you are the sign. Morgan just forced me to see it.
"I have been so angry, sorry for myself for so long, that I gave myself permission to do what I knew was wrong...
"It was my way of getting some of my own back, the pound of flesh I demanded from the world...The future Bryce Larkin stole from me."
Sarah gasped. She shot up, jarring the table as she did, spilling coffee. "Did you say Bryce Larkin? Wait. Stanford. Bryce. Wait. Stanford! Chuck. You're Chuck!"
Chuck was reeling. He had no idea what was happening. "Huh?"
ooOoo
Sarah ran up the stairs. Chuck had no time to react. He sat, stunned and lost for a second. Then he jumped up, knocking his chair over, and bolted up the stairs.
He did not see Sarah when he entered the bedroom, but then he heard rummaging in the closet. He entered it and saw Sarah frantically moving aside clothes on hangers. She found what she was looking for-a small pile of clothes. A black, long sleeve t-shirt with a white butterfly design down the back, like a Lepidoptera spine. She pulled it down over her head. She pulled up a pair of black jeans. She turned as she fastened her jeans, and saw Chuck.
"Hey, get dressed, Chuck. Quick!"
Chuck simply obeyed, although he was still lost. He quickly put on his shirt and pants, slipped his feet into his laced but untied tennis shoes. Sarah came out of the closet and sat down beside him on the bed, putting on a pair of low, black suede boots. She took Chuck's hand and pulled him out of the bedroom, down the stairs.
Chuck pulled back when they got off the stairs. Sarah wheeled to look at him. He saw her eyes widen. "Sarah, where are we going?"
"Yes, Sarah, where are you going? And what are you doing here?" A new voice, goading and irritated, from behind Chuck.
Now, Chuck wheeled. He turned to arrive face-to-face with Bryce Larkin, who was standing in the open back door, gun out. "Chuck?" Beside Bryce was a tall blond. She had a gun out too. From behind, Chuck heard Sarah's fierce, frustrated whisper. "Shit."
Part Two
Worlds Well Lost
"Sarah, what are you doing here? Why is Chuck here? What are you doing in our house?"
Chuck wheeled again. Sarah's face was schooled blank. But he could tell she was thinking, the wheels in her head spinning like Chuck there in the living room.
"Well, Sarah?" The woman, this time. Chuck spun again. From behind him, Sarah finally spoke up.
"Shut up, Alexandra."
Bryce put his gun away and reached out and touched the woman, Alexandra, on her arm, subtly lowering her gun. She flashed Bryce a stern glance, baring her teeth, deeply annoyed. Chuck finally began to catch up. When he had cased the house, he had watched a blonde leave it, punch in the keycode.
The blonde had been wearing large, dark sunglasses and he had only used the binoculars when she was at the keypad. He had been assuming he had seen Sarah. He had not: he had seen this...Alexandra. And even though she superficially resembled Sarah, Chuck decided he did not like the look of her much.
"Who is Chuck?" Alexandra growled, speaking to Bryce and not so much as glancing at Chuck.
"Chuck is an old...buddy of mine. From college. Stanford."
"Buddy?" Chuck piped up, the question pointed at Bryce, dagger-like.
Bryce grimaced at Chuck. "Hey, Chuck, it's been a long time and it was a long story, how about we just forget all that?"
Chuck did not respond. He just looked at Bryce and at Alexandra. "So you two live here?"
"Yes, Chuck. This is my house. Alexandra lives with me."
"They're partners," Sarah added, stepping to Chuck's side as she did, and taking his hand in hers.
Bryce noticed and frowned. "What are you both doing here?"
"It's complicated," Sarah offered, smirking.
Bryce gave her a cold, flat look. "You shouldn't be here, Sarah."
"Why not, Bryce? This place was supposed to be ours. I quit the Agency. You were supposed to quit too…"
"Wait, Bryce is a spy? No, Bryce is an accountant. I've pictured him cooking the books all these years, not running operations off-book."
"Still reading spy novels, eh, Chuck," Bryce said, condescension in his tone.
"Yeah, but I have to say, the last few days have convinced me I should switch to Westerns." Chuck turned toward Sarah. "Sarah?"
"Chuck, Bryce and I were partners. Once. No, I take that back. Twice. We were partners the way he and Forrest here are partners," Sarah explained. "I thought I loved him. But he betrayed me, or I thought he did, about four years ago. He had apparently gone rogue. It turned out he hadn't." Sarah paused and took a quick breath, obviously not used to saying so much at once.
"An evil group of spies, Fulcrum, had set him up, tried to recruit him by getting him to start as a double agent. Bryce thought a piece of technology existed that did not actually exist. When he discovered it did not, he took the fight to Fulcrum-and he came back to me. Stupidly, I took him back, believing that the lies and deception between us were explained by his 'mission'. But I found that even...partnered...with him, I just couldn't do the job anymore."
Chuck nodded listening. He heard Forrest huff disgustedly. Sarah ignored her and went on. "I told him I needed to quit, and that I wanted to find a life outside of spying, with him. He claimed he wanted that too. But he never resigned, although he promised…My life was heaping itself on me, killing me..."
"Sarah, I just couldn't…" Bryce started to explain.
"...We chose this house together and Bryce bought it. I did live here, for a brief while, working for the FBI and waiting for Bryce to come home from missions. Eventually, I found out he had taken a new partner...taken one." Sarah's eyes narrowed.
"No one took anyone unless it was me taking Bryce, Walker. Not my problem you can't hold onto your man." Forrest's teeth were bared again. Sarah seemed unfazed. The only change was that Chuck could feel her hand tighten on his.
Sarah went on. "I left, Chuck. But that wasn't the worst thing," Sarah flicked her eyes up to his, "that's not why...you know…" and her eyes flicked upstairs toward the bathroom. "The worst thing was that I realized I had never loved him, that I had never been in love with anyone-and I thought I couldn't be…"
"Oh, C'mon, Sarah, you know you loved me," Bryce sounded defensive, almost hurt. Alexandra glance at him, her face betraying nervousness.
"No, I didn't, Bryce. I didn't. I believed I did; I wanted to. I told myself I did. I didn't.
"And for the last few months, after I came to understand that, I have been haunted by the fear that my past life had made love impossible for me. That I was dead inside, hollowed out, empty. Thank God, that's not true. I know it's false-now, I do."
Chuck did some quick mental arithmetic and turned a wondering smile on Sarah. She did not look at him, but her grip on his hand tightened more.
"Well, this is all oh-so-fascinating," Alexandra hissed, "but you need to get the hell out of our house. And take your...whatever he is...with you."
"Wait, Alexandra. I want to talk to Chuck. We have things to say to each other…"
"No, Bryce, we don't. I used to think we did. I imagined having talks that all ended with me beating the shit out of you. But that was when I thought you were an accountant. And I find now that I don't need to know or to beat the shit out of you. There is no beating the shit out of you, Bryce. It's what you're made of."
"Chuck, listen, you don't understand the whole situation," Bryce was now pleading. Alexandra looked at him as if he were a stranger.
Chuck shook his head. "No, I don't. But I don't need to. Timing is everything, Bryce. In humor and between people. The statute of limitations on any effective explanation or apology ran out years ago, Bryce. We are not friends, probably we never were."
"Oh, C'mon, Chuck, of course we were friends."
"No, I have friends, real ones, and I know the difference now.
Bryce gaped. "You can't be talking about that Morgan clown. You've never outgrown him? Jesus, Chuck."
"No, Bryce, I haven't. But he may have outgrown me. Sarah, are we done here?'
She turned to him and took his other hand too. She smiled at him, hugely, warmly, confidently. "We are so done here, Chuck."
They turned together to leave, taking a step toward the front door. Chuck pulled up short and rotated in place. "Oh, I forgot. There're dirty towels upstairs. And you may want to change the sheets." Bryce blinked. "There's a load in the washer. I washed it twice but never got it into the dryer. I suspect the load has soured again. Sorry!"
Chuck felt Sarah tug on his hand, laughing softly. "Let's go, Mr. Clean."
ooOoo
Chuck drove them to his place. Sarah held his hand all the way there. They talked about Stanford and what had happened between Chuck and Bryce.
Sarah knew a little about it, it turned out, because it had been part of Bryce's explanation of his 'going rogue'. He had not supplied the incriminating details however, and Jill had been no part of his tale.
Chuck told her briefly about his family and about Ellie. About her raising him. Although Sarah did not supply any details, she told him she had been raised on the road, by a conman father.
ooOoo
When they arrived at the apartment, Morgan was sitting in a lawn chair in the tiny patch of green that passed for their lawn. He was shirtless but wearing dark sunglasses. He was holding a reflecting screen, evidently trying to tan. Beside him, right next to him, in fact, in a second lawn chair, was a small brunette.
She was wearing shorts and...Morgan's prized, never before opened Pikachu t-shirt. She was eating an ice cream cone, vanilla, and the ice cream was melting onto her fingers. Morgan seemed wholly unconcerned. She had on a trucker's hat, the bill pushed up, with Gas and Sip written across the front.
Morgan saw them get out and he folded up the screen and dropped it on the ground beside him. He gave Sarah a long, curious, but not unfriendly stare. "Hey, Chuck. I was about to send out the calvary…"
"No, Morg, it's cavalry…" The woman grinned at Morgan then turned her grin on Chuck and Sarah. "Hi! I'm Alex."
Chuck and Sarah smiled simultaneously and shook their heads. "Hi!" Chuck said, extending his hand. As Alex shook it, he added: "This is my...This is…"
"Hi," Sarah broke in, "I'm Chuck's girlfriend, Sarah."
Morgan hooted. "Wait, no way! No way! Alex is my girlfriend. She's also my manager at the Gas and Sip." Morgan leaned forward like he was sharing a secret. "That's where I work."
"That's great, Morgan."
"You know who I am?"
"Yes, Chuck has...told me about you. I've been looking forward to meeting you."
Morgan seemed touched. "That's not how it usually goes for me."
Alex swatted him. "Morgan, you're a charmer, you just don't know it."
He made a face. "I'd better be, since we are having dinner with your dad tonight."
Alex laughed, soft and musical. "Oh, Dad. He's like a Tootsie Pop, hard on the outside, but all soft and chewy on the inside."
Morgan looked from Alex to Chuck. "Hey, did you hear that, Han? Chewie! Ha! I think that's a good omen, Chuck. Of course, I know you don't believe in that sort of stuff, signs and wonders."
Chuck grinned at Morgan but settled his eyes on Sarah, making sure she knew he had. "I'm coming around, Morgan, I'm coming around. Signs and wonders, indeed."
"Alex and I were thinking about going swimming. Her friend has a house with a pool and a hot tube. Can you imagine? Do you guys want to come with us?'
"Maybe another time, Morgan," Sarah said. "Chuck and I have actually met our water quotient for the day, I think."
"Really? Did Chuck tell you he worked as a lifeguard for a couple of summers in high school? This guy here," Morgan laughed, pride in his voice, "this guy is a lifesaver."
Chuck felt Sarah's lips on his cheek. She lifted them slightly and slid them to make contact with his ear, kissing him there. "I believe it, Morgan," she said.
"So, Morg," Chuck asked, "have you started at the Gas and Sip?"
"Uh-huh. I did the other day. I like it. My manager,"-a quick glance at Alex-"says I am likely to move up quickly."
Alex nodded. "I expect big things from him."
Morgan blushed and tried to cover it with a question. "So, Sarah, Chuck didn't know about Alex; I didn't know about you, either. Evidently, Chuck and I have both been keeping secrets. When did you guys meet? How did you meet? I assume it was some kind of rom-com meet-cute, right?'
Sarah grew thoughtful but she smiled after a moment. "Something like that. It might have been more like the beginning of I Dream of Jeannie. Chuck found my bottle and he let me out…"
"Wow, Chuck, she knows Jeannie! She is so obviously a keeper. Did you know there was a Jeannie marathon the other day? Alex and I watched a couple of episodes, but I don't think she liked it much."
Alex's features pinched. "She calls him 'Master', Morg, I mean, geez…"
"I'm willing to call you 'Master' if you want, Alex," Morgan submitted.
Alex rolled her eyes. "If we're going to have to watch old sitcoms, I'd prefer Gilligan's Island. I like Mary Anne."
Sarah gave Chuck a look of understanding. "The Higher Mystery?" she asked in a stage whisper. He laughed and nodded.
ooOoo
Morgan and Alex were gone swimming. Chuck and Sarah were in his bed. Sarah had a computer on her lap, looking at apartment listings. Chuck was watching her and occasionally looking at the screen.
"Those places look expensive, Sarah."
She shrugged. "Let's just say that I have money, Chuck. I can afford it."
"The FBI must pay well."
Sarah shrugged again. "Something like that."
"You never told me what you did for the FBI."
"I worked in their Bank Robbery division."
Chuck laughed. "That's funny."
Sarah gave him a flat look.
"Oh. That's not funny. That's true?"
She nodded. "I didn't like it much. But it kept me busy-ish. I resigned the other day."
"Oh," Chuck said. "You really are starting over. But don't you have an apartment already?"
"I did. But the lease ran out and, given what I had decided to do...I didn't renew. I've been living in one of those extended stay motels. That's where my car is, my things. I can go get them tomorrow and bring them here if it's okay for me to stay here for a little while?"
"Absolutely. Morgan told me he was going to be staying at Alex's place for the foreseeable future."
He smiled at her. She noticed and asked why.
"I'm glad you said 'had decided'. That decision-it's past tense now?"
"Past tense, Chuck. I'm looking forward to using the future tense."
He kissed her, slipping his hand under the sheet to cup one of her bare breasts. She slid down into a more reclining posture, and the kiss grew more intense.
Nonetheless, after a few wonderful moments, she pulled back. Chuck started to take his hand away, but she put her hand over his from above the sheet. 'Stay. I have plans for that hand and for all the rest of you. But, I need to ask you something first. What do you want from the future, Chuck?"
He looked away, thinking. He looked back. "I want whatever future we work out together. I'm going to stop demanding things from my future, start accepting the good things, the gifts, that come my way."
"Good. And I am going to stop laboring under the weight of my past. I have the feeling we can help each other, that we can find a future together."
"Me too."
ooOoo
Chuck had the computer open. He and Sarah had made love again. Sarah had fallen asleep afterward. Chuck had looked at her for a while, stroking her shoulder. It all seemed like a dream, and, at the same time, it felt like the only real thing that had ever happened in his life. His old tiny room looked brand new, enlarged and more brightly colored, refreshed; the whole world felt different to him.
His phone vibrated softly. Luckily, Sarah seemed undisturbed. It was Ellie.
Chuck answered softly. "Hey, Ellie!"
"Wow. Chuck? Is that you? You never answer my calls."
"I just did."
'Why are you whispering, Chuck? You sound weird, different."
Long pause. "I...I met someone, Ellie. No, not just someone. I met the one." His whisper grew softer.
"What?" Ellie was now whispering too as if she were in the room. "That's great. Wait, is she there now? Is that why we're whispering?"
"Um...yeah. It is."
"What's her name?"
"Sarah."
"How did you meet?'
"Long story. Let's just say we met. No, we didn't just...meet, Ellie. She saved me."
"What do you mean, Chuck? No, never mind. Explain it to me this weekend. Devon and I have some miles left on our card; we're coming out to see you. I want to meet Sarah too."
"Okay, I'll ask."
"Tell Ellie I will be there, Chuck."
"Oh, sorry, Sarah, it's my sister, Ellie."
"I know, Chuck, I heard."
It hit him. "You heard? Um...oh...um…"
"Don't freak out, Chuck. I like what I heard. Now finish making plans with Ellie, and then let me talk to her for a minute. I'd like to talk to the woman who raised you…"
"The world of the happy is quite different from that of the unhappy." Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus
THE END