A/N: Here's a little explanation on this scene's location of the San Juan Islands. First, you are reading correctly, despite the Caribbean sounding name, they are located in the northwestern corner of Washington State in the US, just south of the Canadian border. I grew up in Washington, in the Puget Sound region, on the water. Still live in the Pacific Northwest. The San Juan Islands border British Columbia, Canada, but they are still 100 miles from the open Pacific Ocean. Climate is incredible, wildlife abounds, the water is alive and everywhere. It's an awesome, incredible, romantic place. Thought it might be okay for Chuck and Sarah to hide out there for a little while. Don't worry, I didn't go overboard - killed a lot of darlings on this one. Reviews and comments have been wonderful. They keep me pumped about the story. So, thanks.


Chuck vs The Bodyguard

Chapter 11


Chuck leaned back on the vinyl covered seat of the huge passenger ferry gilding over the waters of the Northern Puget Sound. The sun was high in a blue sky, its rays sparkling off the water. The deep forest green of Douglas Firs lined the shores of Washington State's San Juan Islands as the ferry weaved its way along, around and in between the archipelago.

It was beautiful here, more so than Chuck had imagined. Ever since he'd moved to Seattle he'd wanted to visit the islands, a popular tourist, vacation and recreation mecca. But he'd never seemed to be able to find the time. He shook his head at the irony. He was here now, with a beautiful woman none the less, but it had taken multiple attempts on his life and becoming a fugitive to finally get him here. His priorities were definitely screwed up.

They'd driven north for two hours to the town of Anacortes and the main ferry terminal to and from the islands. Sarah'd explained that Carina had retired from the Secret Service about a year after Sarah'd resigned. She'd purchased and renovated a large older home on the West Sound of Orcas Island, the second largest island in the chain. She'd built it into a popular, high-end, micro destination inn. Sarah had been there once before and it would be a perfect place for them to hide and regroup.

Chuck leaned toward Sarah who was looking out the ferry's window. "Can I use your phone? I need to call my boss."

Sarah turned and gave him a look. "You're not serious."

Her response surprised him. "Umm … yeah. I need to check in with her. I've been off the radar for a day and she's probably having a cow. This is the first downtime I've had to even think about talking with her."

"No calls, to anyone," Sarah said.

"Don't worry about Beckman being a bad guy. She's the last person in the world who'd commit treason."

Sarah quickly looked around them. "Keep your voice down," she said.

Chuck glanced around, chagrined. Even though he and Sarah were fairly isolated in a corner of the large passenger deck, there were still a lot of people on the afternoon ferry.

"Sorry. But I still need to call her," Chuck said in a loud whisper.

"What about going dark don't you understand?" Sarah said.

Chuck felt his impatience rising at Sarah's refusal. She didn't seem to understand how critical it was for him to reinsert himself into the project, if even from a distance. He'd been out of touch for a day now. He needed to keep his staff on track so the project wouldn't be delayed.

"This is important," Chuck said.

"Still not an option," she replied.

Anger welled up inside Chuck, replacing the impatience he'd felt a moment before. He needed to convince her somehow.

"It's a burner phone. I'll keep it short. No one will trace it."

"No."

Chuck couldn't contain his anger any longer. "You don't get it," he snapped. "There's a hundred million dollar contract at stake. It's my job to make this project happen."

Sarah glared at Chuck and leaned toward him, her tone as intense as his own. "And it's my job to keep you alive. I don't care about the damn project, Chuck. Your life's at stake. Put a hundred million dollars and your life side by side and there's no contest." Sarah pulled back, shaking her head back and forth. "End of discussion." She turned her gaze back to the window.

Leaning back in his seat Chuck regarded Sarah. This wasn't the first time he'd witnessed her temper flare. He knew from his own experience that anger almost always covered up fear. When Sarah's anger had surfaced, the topic of discussion had been her responsibility to protect him. This was Sarah's hot button and he'd inadvertently pushed it a couple times already. Chuck had heard Sarah explain to her friend on the phone that her captain had forced her to take the assignment as his bodyguard. She didn't want to be here. He couldn't blame her.

It was obvious to Chuck that something bad had happened to Sarah. Bad enough to make her quit the Secret Service. Bad enough that she was afraid she might not be able to do her job and protect him. He had a suspicion what it might have been.

Without prelude Chuck said, "You lost someone you were protecting."

Sarah visibly flinched but kept looking out the window.

"That's why you got so angry with me — just now and at my house."

Sarah remained silent.

"What happened?" Chuck asked.

"Not relevant," Sarah said, her eyes still averted.

Chuck felt another spark of anger at her dismissal but kept his cool. "Yes, it is."

Sarah turned to look at him. "Really?" she said, her voice incredulous. "How do you figure?"

"You know all about me, but I don't know anything about you," Chuck said.

"It's my job to know about you," she said. "You don't need to know anything about me other than I'm the bodyguard and you're not."

"You were the bodyguard. But this whole damn situation has changed," Chuck said. "Now it's as much my job as yours to keep me alive." He shifted forward in his seat. "It's not just me that's in danger. Whether you like it or not, we're a team."

"There is no team here," Sarah said, gesturing with her hand back and forth between them.

"I know I'm not the expert," Chuck said. "You are. But I'm not a noncombatant anymore. Whether you like it or not, I've been thrown into the ring. I'm part of the fight now. I know I won't get through this without you. But it can't just be you pulling all the weight anymore."

Sarah kept her gaze on Chuck but stayed quiet.

"If we're going to make it out of this alive, I need to know what makes you tick so I don't keep pissing you off," Chuck said.

"You don't piss me off," Sarah said, her voice tight.

"Tell that to my shoulder," Chuck said.

Sarah's expression darkened and she jerked her gaze away.

A jolt of guilt went through Chuck. He remembered her reaction when she'd seen his injuries in his bathroom.

"Crap," he breathed out. "Low blow. I'm a jerk."

The silence between them was sower and thick. Chuck figured he'd burned a bridge, so he sat back to endure the rest of the trip.

After a while Sarah spoke, her voice quiet. "It was in Beirut. He was a diplomat."

Chuck looked at her but remained silent.

Sarah continued to stare out the window. "I dropped my guard. He got shot."

"I'm sorry he died," Chuck said.

"He didn't," Sarah said, her voice tight, her words jerky. "Worse. They took him. Terrorists."

"What happened to him?"

Sarah took in a shuddering breath. "Don't know. No demands were ever received. Most likely scenario — probably tortured until he had no more useful information. Then …" she didn't finish.

Chuck pushed out a breath. Sarah's disclosure had taken a toll on her and his heart ached for the pain he saw on her face. He reached over and touched her knee for a moment, then sat back and gave Sarah her space.

She took in another difficult breath and kept staring out the window.