A/N: Here we go again! Last chapter was just a filler, designed to move the story along. I'm glad you guys don't mind a chapter of pure fluff like that, because, honestly, they're the most fun to write. This chapter is more crucial to the storyline. It jumps forward a few days, like the last chapter, because there's only so much I can do with them driving day in and day out. Hope you enjoy.
CM - I had no idea you're from Toronto, but I'm happy you got a kick out of it. I love Canada - I've visited a few times, and have many Canadian friends. Thanks for the review, as always.
ChuckAddict - Thanks for the Spanish corrections. I'll be sure to ask before I publish anymore translations. Appreciate it buddy!
Thanks go out to everybody who reads/reviews! I apologize for not answering your reviews personally, but I figured if I get another chapter to you, you'd forgive me. So, thank you, and enjoy.
-JB
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
Five Days Later. Veracruz, west of Panama City, Panama.
Their trip from El Salvador to Panama didn't take them as long as they thought it would. They decided to push through and drive as much as possible, which cut a couple days off their journey. They both had agreed that Nicaragua was gorgeous, but that didn't stop them from driving straight through to Costa Rica.
Costa Rica, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air. It's famous for it's easygoing, simple way of life. They had spent a little more time there, enjoying the pura vida, or pure life, it had to offer. Sarah made Chuck promise her that if they were ever able, they would come back to visit, preferably for a much longer time. Costa Rica is a peaceful nation, having abolished its army decades ago. The locals were all incredibly welcoming and kind. They were sure it had nothing to do with the thriving tourist business. If it wasn't for the multitude of North Americans all over the country, Chuck might have decided to make it their final destination. Alas, he didn't want to risk it, and Sarah readily agreed. Sure, it was relaxing and relatively safe, but there always was the off-chance they could be recognized or spotted. They were done taking unnecessary risks.
That didn't stop them from enjoying their time in Costa Rica, though. Chuck had found a hammock at a roadside market and decided he had to have it. Sarah teased him that he overpaid when he handed the nice old lady a $10 bill, American of course. She had only asked for the rough equivalent of $3. That night they pulled over on an isolated dirt road, and Chuck strung the hammock up between two sturdy trees. He had made sure it was more than big enough for the two of them to be comfortable. They both agreed the next morning it had been their best night of sleep since leaving California.
They got to Panama soon after, switching to Peruvian passports. They were now posing as Americans who 'worked' in Peru. According to their cover papers, they were from Bristol, Rhode Island, married (obviously), and they supposedly were professors on sabbatical from Brown University. Their cover was that they were living in Peru, doing archaeological research around Cuzco. In truth, they didn't plan on spending any more time than absolutely necessary in Peru. The hike up to Machu Picchu that Sarah desperately wanted to undertake was going to have to wait.
For now, however, they needed to figure out how to get out of Panama. They were west of Panama City, which meant they were also west of the canal. The PanAmerican highway continued on east for some miles, but not all the way to the border. That was the problem - the Darien gap. The only break in the continuous highway that stretched from Canada all the way down to Tierra del Fuego. It wasn't easy to navigate through the gap, that's why the highway stopped. It was some of the densest tropical jungle in the world. Pirates used to use it as a safe haven because it was, and still is, almost impossible to penetrate.
There was another big problem. If they managed to somehow make it through the Darien gap, that brought them right to the Colombian border. Granted, Colombia is a safer country than it was ten years ago, but it still is incredibly dangerous, especially for 'gringos'. Not only were their rebel groups spread out all over the country constantly skirmishing with the government, the government itself was not the most trustworthy. Express kidnapping was still a daily occurrence. They were going to have to figure something else out.
They were now holed up in the safe house Chuck had arranged for. It was off the main street in Veracruz. Like the one in El Salvador, this one wasn't on the beach, but a short walk away. It was on a tightly-packed street among similar looking residences. Once again, it had the barest of necessities. A bed, a kitchen, a couch, a small TV. They were lying on the bed, snuggling, waiting for the sun to set. It had been a long day of driving and both of them were admittedly wiped out.
"Chuck?" Sarah broke the silence, speaking barely above a whisper.
"Hmm?"
"What are we going to do?"
Chuck knew what she was asking about. He had brought it up in the truck, their dilemma. He explained best he could that his original plan was to just drive through. Obviously that wasn't going to work as well as he planned. He thought for a few moments, contemplating their rather slim options. Sarah allowed him to mull it over. He always came up with his best plans on short notice like this. She hoped this was one of those times. He hadn't failed her yet.
"I want to completely avoid Colombia," he said. "I just don't want to risk anything."
"I understand that, Chuck, but going through Colombia is the only way to get to South America. Duh."
"Really?" They were both just teasing now, lightening the mood, to their relief. They both chuckled softly. "Seriously though. I'm sure it's a gorgeous country and everything, I just can't risk anything happening to you, Sarah."
"I know, baby. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to me. I know you'll figure it out, sweetie, you always do."
Chuck smiled at her confidence in him. It gave him the strength he needed to get through this ordeal. It gave him hope for the future.
Sarah stayed where she was, slowly stroking his chest under his t-shirt. She was allowing him to formulate plans in his head, to figure it out silently. She knew not to push him, to let him plot on his own terms. He'd always share his plans with her, never doing anything without her knowing exactly what it was, what it entailed, and the possible outcomes. With the knowledge that he would never leave her out of the loop, she was happy to comfort him while he figured it out in that big complex brain of his.
"I've got it Sarah," he said after a few minutes. "That's the only way to get to South America by land. Tomorrow morning we need to get some cash together and head down to the marina. We're going to avoid Colombia, alright, and any other countries we can while we're at it."
"You want to buy a boat?" She asked, slightly confused.
"Maybe. Maybe just pay for our way on a boat. We'll have to see once we get there. I think we have more than enough dinero to convince someone to take us aboard."
"Okay. It's a good plan, Chuck. Avoid the Darien gap, Colombia, and anything else we can. I don't know if it'll be faster than driving, but I don't care, as long as we get there safe."
"Good. Now I want to get up and start making some dinner," he told her.
"Sure. I'm going to take a walk around town." She could see anxiety flash in his eyes. "Don't worry, Chuck, i'll put a wig on and carry my gun. I'll bring an earpiece just in case, sweetie."
She knew what he'd say and decided to put his fears to rest before he even verbalized them. Yet another great example of how in tune they were.
"Okay, Sarah. But please don't take forever. I'm always going to worry about you. I can't help it."
"I know, and I love you all the more for it," she whispered as she gave him a long kiss on the lips before she got off the bed. She dug around in the backpack and found her black wig, putting her hair up in a bun so none of her blonde locks would show. She put in green contact lenses quickly, and made her way out the door with an 'I love you' to Chuck over her shoulder. She heard him reciprocate as she stepped out the front door.
As soon as Sarah closed the door, Chuck shot out of bed and put his plan into action. He figured she'd want a little time to herself after the last few days of tiring and hectic driving they'd had. He'd planned well and had pretty much everything he needed.
First, he set the small kitchen table. He found a white tablecloth, spreading it out over the tabletop. He searched around in the cupboards, finding silverware and dishes. He set all the food he'd need out on the counter and started to cook as fast as he could. He made sure he'd chosen an easy recipe that wouldn't take long. He didn't know when Sarah was going to walk back through the door, and he wanted to be ready.
Sarah took her time, sauntering down the small alleyways. She could hear the hustle and bustle of the main street a couple blocks away, and decided to head there and check out the open-air market.
It was a typical Latin American market, full of vendors selling just about everything, from hand made bracelets to pork. She walked slowly through, checking out the different wares and products. She had a little money in her pocket, and secretly hoped she could find something for Chuck. She didn't know why, but she had the sudden urge to get him something. He had been continually surprising her on this trip with his patience, careful planning, and, especially, how calm he was staying. She knew he probably had freaked out a few times, but kept it to himself, not wanting to worry her. What he probably didn't know, however, was that Sarah almost always knew when he was freaking out. She could always tell after that first night they spent together, outrunning NSA assassins and defusing C4.
Chuck was almost finished with the chicken, and put the soup on the stove. He was almost there - almost ready. He hoped Sarah liked his surprise, as small of a gesture he thought it was.
Sarah put down the large fruit she was inspecting, deciding not to purchase it. They still had some apples left. She turned to start heading back to the house and Chuck when she spotted them. At first, she thought it was an illusion, some kind of hallucination, a memory of their old life. It had to be, she was in the middle of Panama for crying out loud. But, as she got closer, it dawned on her they were very real and they were right in front of her.
A pair of black high-top Chuck Taylor's.
She called out to any and all gods as she stepped towards them, praying that they were his size. She picked up the right shoe, turning it over to look at the sole. She let out a huge sight of relief when she saw a big '12' stamped on the bottom. Chuck's size. It was fate. Had to be. They had obviously seen some action, and were a little worn in. They were still in pretty good shape, though. The soles still had traction and the canvas was holding up well. She glanced up at the man standing in the booth, asking without words how much they were.
"$5 Americano," he said.
She dug in her pocket and found a $10 bill, throwing it at him and ignoring his attempt to give her her change. She stuffed them in the day bag she had on her back, wanting to hide them from Chuck so she could give them to him on her own terms. She wanted it to be perfect. He deserved nothing less from his wife.
Sarah almost skipped back to the house, ecstatic with herself and her purchase. She hadn't seen Chuck wear Chucks since they left Burbank, and she truly hoped he'd like them.
Chuck had just finished cutting some bread, putting the slices in a basket, and setting the basket on the table when he heard the front door swing open. There stood his angel, framed in the doorway. In Chuck's opinion, she couldn't have been more beautiful if she tried. He decided to tell her.
"Sarah, honey, you are the most exquisite thing I've ever laid eyes on."
Sarah moved out of the doorway and made her way to Chuck, who was standing in the middle of the room. She reached him, looping her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to her, engaging him in a searing kiss. Both of them dived right in to it. They'd missed each other terribly, and Sarah had only been gone for roughly an hour. Finally, the need to breathe forced them to break apart.
"I missed you," Sarah whispered.
"I missed you too," Chuck replied.
That was when Sarah's nose first noticed the smells emanating from the small kitchen. She looked over and saw what Chuck had prepared. She gasped and her hand shot up to her cover her open mouth, awe and amazement flitting across her features.
The small kitchen table was set for a romantic dinner for two. There was a white tablecloth covering the old wood. There were bowls, filled with delicious smelling soup. There was a basket filled with bread. Off to the side was a platter filled with mouth-watering succulent chicken. White meat, of course. Chuck would never forget his wife's preferences. To top it off there was a single white candle flickering in the middle of the table.
She turned to Chuck and saw the broad smile he was sporting, matching it with one of her own. Somehow, he always knew exactly what she needed. She needed to relax for a night, to let her hair down so to speak. He knew she was uptight, and that she was trying her hardest to not act like an 'agent'. They needed a night to just be husband and wife, even if they were on the run from the most powerful government in the world.
"Oh, Chuck," she finally managed to say, her heart still beating a million times a minute. "You did all this for me? For us?" She asked in wonderment.
"Of course I did. We need this, honey. Even if it's only for one night."
Sarah nodded, not sure if she could say anything else. She was far too happy. This wonderful man never ceased to amaze her, always doing the unexpected. The best part was that he never expected anything in return, always happy to do something for her sake. That's when she decided to show him her surprise. She took a moment to gather herself before she could speak.
"Chuck," she said softly. She took his face in her hands, her normal way of getting his undivided attention. "I got you something in town. I was going to wait, but since you did all this for me, I want to thank you."
Chuck was suddenly the one who was excited. He watched as Sarah reached into the day bag she had taken to town. She told him to turn around, and he obliged. He waited, listening to her rustling around in the bag and then setting it back on the floor.
"Okay, Chuck, turn back around," he heard her say.
He turned, and his breath immediately got caught in his throat. There was his wife, his beautiful, beautiful wife, standing in front of him with a pair of Chucks on her outstretched palms, a radiant smile plastered on her face. He could sense a tinge of nervousness in her. He put that to rest almost instantaneously.
He enveloped her in a huge hug, the Chucks caught between them. She could feel the worry leave her body, replaced by pride and even more love. He felt it too, smiling as she relaxed in his arms. After a moment, they released and took a step back. Chuck took the shoes in his hands, looking them over.
"Oh, Sarah," he finally said, their roles reversed from a couple minutes ago. "This is so amazing. How did you find these? We're in the middle of Panama! And they're in such great shape! And.." he flipped over the tongue of the left shoe, "they're my size! Oh, baby, this is so perfect. You're perfect. I don't know what to say. This is the best present I've ever gotten."
"Chuck," she stopped his rambling with one syllable. He looked at her with a sheepish grin. "You're telling me a pair of used shoes I bought in a market in Central America is the best present you've ever gotten? Somehow I doubt that, sweetie."
"Nope. This is by a long shot the best. It's not just the fact that you found them, Sarah. It's the fact you thought of me. That you knew how happy it would make me. Now I feel like I owe you," he said with a smile. Sarah didn't believe her ears.
"Really, Chuck? You cooked a fabulous romantic dinner and you feel like you owe me? If anything, we're even, or I owe you." She paused for effect. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll repay you later. Call it a second dessert." She winked, causing him to blush. "Speaking of, shall we eat?"
"Yes, of course. Shall we?"
He took her by the hand and led her the few feet to the table. He slid back the chair, allowing her to sit, and gently pushed it in. He grabbed her napkin and placed it on her lap, causing her to giggle. He took his seat across from her and they spent a moment gazing at one another. Their hands slid across the table and found each other automatically. Chuck took his glass of water and held it up, waiting for Sarah to do the same.
"To us," he simply said.
"To us," she repeated. They clinked glasses and took a sip.
Their dinner was excellent, and not just the food. Oh, the food was good, and Sarah made sure Chuck knew. The company was the best part, though. For one night, they forgot about their circumstances and just acted like a husband and wife having dinner. They talked about mundane things, purposely avoiding any talk of their situation. That could wait for a couple hours.
They finished dinner and Sarah refused to let Chuck do the dishes. He finally managed to help a little bit, clearing the table for her. After putting everything away, they collapsed onto the couch, instantly snuggling into their usual 'couch position'. They laid there for a while, in a comfortable silence. Chuck was softly rubbing circles on her stomach, and she felt herself journeying closer and closer to sleep.
When she realized she was moments away from passing out, she suddenly stood up. Chuck, who was still relatively awake, looked up at her with an eyebrow quirked.
"Take me to bed, Mr. Bartowski," she seductively whispered, slowly beginning to disrobe. Chuck was up and by her side in an instant, pulling her in for a kiss.
He stepped back slightly and whispered in her ear.
"Anything for you, Mrs. Bartowski."
