Building Rome 12/?
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: Nine months after making the decision that changed his life, Chuck is coping with an Intersect that is a work-in-progress. Sarah is learning how to balance her spy life and her personal life for the first time. But when the first rule of spying is never fall in love, how will their relationship stand the pressure? Sequel to Discovering Omaha.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: This is the chapter I've been waiting to write since I started this story. Hope you enjoy!
XXX
Sarah gripped the steering wheel tightly. The silence in the car was like a weight pressing down on her. It had been barely an hour since they had left the Roark campus according to the dashboard clock, but it felt much longer.
Taking a breath, she looked over at Chuck. Seeing him this silent, this withdrawn-it was making her worry. She had harbored such high hopes for this moment: Chuck finishing his assignment at Roark, the two of them together again, perhaps getting the chance to start over . . .
She straightened her shoulders. Right now, before they could work on their relationship, she had to make sure that he was all right.
"Chuck?" she asked softly.
He didn't say anything and she repeated his name. He started and looked at her. "What?" he said, his voice raspy.
"I just want you to know, we're not going to let anything happen to your dad. Casey will be running the operation to locate him and I know Casey can find him." She glanced at him, trying to reassure him. At the same time, she checked the rearview mirror for any signs of a tail. The last thing she wanted to happen was Fulcrum tracking them.
Chuck sighed softly. "I know Casey can do it. I just . . ."
"You just what?" she asked, looking over at him again.
"It's my fault. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have been there, he wouldn't have been taken by Fulcrum." Chuck's voice was bleak, his sadness and guilt evident.
"You don't know that, Chuck," she said. "Fulcrum has been looking for Orion for a long time. He could have been captured at any moment and it would have had nothing to do with you."
"But that's not what happened, Sarah."
She swallowed. "I know."
He blew out a breath. "It's not that I doubt Casey. I wish I could be there, though. Helping to find my dad."
"I'm sorry about that." She changed lanes, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts. "Since your father-Orion-knows that you're the Intersect, you need to go to ground for a while, in case Fulcrum is able to extract that information from him." She could sense him getting ready to object, so she continued. "I know it's unlikely, but we have to be sure. So until we know, the two of us will be at a safe house."
Chuck looked disgruntled, but he nodded. "All right. But I still want to help."
"The safe house should have some kind of computer. We'll be able to communicate with Casey and get status updates."
"I suppose that will be enough for now," Chuck said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him looking at her. "And . . . and I guess we're going to be there a while. Just the two of us."
Sarah nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. "I don't know how long it will be, but yes. It'll be just us." She hesitantly looked over at him, wondering what his reaction was.
He looked thoughtful, his forehead wrinkled. "And you're okay with that?"
Was she? That was a good question. Because this situation meant that there was no excuses for them now. There was nothing to keep them from talking and working on their problems. So if after this they hadn't fixed things . . .
"Yes, I am," she said quietly. "It might not be how you imagined it, but we are getting a few days off. And it's just us." She glanced at him.
"That's definitely true," he said, a small grin forming on his face. "So . . . so what's this safe house like?"
"I don't know-I just picked the closest one to Irvine that wasn't in LA." Sarah checked the clock. "We've got about forty-five minutes until we get there, but thankfully everything we need will be in the house." She looked in the rearview, checking yet again to see if they were being followed.
"Okay," Chuck said, shifting in his seat. "We should probably change the plates on this car, if we're going to hang on to it."
She nodded-that was standard procedure when trying to elude possible pursuers. "We're running low on gas. When we stop, you handle the plates while I pump the gas and distract anyone who asks questions."
He chuckled softly. "Good plan. You're much more distracting than I could ever be."
Sarah felt her face flush a little at his unexpected compliment. She had been struggling with her emotions ever since she had seen him earlier tonight. And she was definitely feeling the impact of being near him again. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder, it appeared.
Giving him a quick, small smile, she turned on the blinker, signaling her change of lanes towards the upcoming exit. It would only be a little while longer until they'd be able to start talking, so as much as she could, she needed to start preparing for that conversation.
XXX
When she pulled up in front of the supposed safe house, Sarah felt her heart plummet. This abandoned-looking shack was it? She understood that appearances could be deceiving, but she had seen nicer hovels in third-world countries.
She looked over at Chuck, who appeared equally dumbstruck before he cleared his throat. "I suppose something fancy would stick out around here." He gestured at the sandy landscape, covered in scrub brush under a dark, star-filled sky. They were ten miles from Barstow, but they might have been as well been a hundred, due to the remote feeling of the area.
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Let's see if it's better on the inside." She climbed out of the car and stretched a little before walking up to the creaky porch. According to the directions Casey had sent her via text message, the key was underneath a loose floorboard.
Once she stepped into the house, she sighed softly. There weren't gaping holes in the walls or a collapsed ceiling at least, but the interior was dingy and clearly hadn't been redecorated since the 1970s, based on the faded orange carpet and olive green sofa. The door opened onto a small living room; on the left was an open kitchen with a mismatched table and chairs inside it. Two doors along the wall at the back of the living area probably lead to the bedrooms. She wondered where the bathroom might be.
"At least it's pretty clean," Chuck said, coming in behind her. He walked over to the kitchen and started opening up the cabinets. "And it looks like there's plenty of food. Nothing fresh, but that's not surprising."
She nodded. "Yeah . . ." She walked over to the doors and opened them. "Here's one of the bedrooms," she said, peering into the first room and seeing a double bed covered in a threadbare floral spread. "And over here-" she said, opening the second door.
"The second bedroom? Where's the bathroom?" Chuck asked, calling out from the kitchen.
Sarah cleared her throat as the living arrangements finally sunk in. "No, this is the bathroom. It looks like there's only one bedroom."
Chuck pulled away from the cabinets, walking over towards her and looking over her shoulder into the bathroom. "Oh." She could hear him swallow before he spoke again. "I-I can take the sofa."
That was doubtful. The sofa wasn't nearly long enough for either of them to sleep on. She looked at him skeptically and Chuck shrugged. "Or I can take the floor."
"No, we can share the bed." She looked up at him. "It'll be okay, Chuck."
Now it was his turn to look doubtful. "You're sure?"
"Yes," she said, hoping she sounded more confident and less ruffled than she felt. In the past, she would have argued that for propriety's sake, they shouldn't share a bed. She knew it might seem odd that she was changing her tune about sharing a bed, but she was tired of worrying about something that would keep them apart. "After all, the only person who knows we're here is Casey. And if he came here and found us sharing a bed, it . . . it probably wouldn't be that big of a surprise to him." She could feel her cheeks flush, but she didn't look away from him.
Chuck looked surprised, but he slowly nodded. "Um, okay, then. Are you hungry?"
She shook her head, feeling a wave of relief at his acceptance of this strange situation. "No, but I would like to take a shower, if you don't need the bathroom."
"It's all yours," he said. "I'll just . . ." His voice trailed off and he gestured over towards the kitchen.
"All right," Sarah said, feeling the awkwardness between them. She stepped into the bedroom, going through the dresser and wincing as the drawers squeaked. She found a gray t-shirt and carried it into the bathroom. A cabinet held towels and toiletries-including, she noticed, a few boxes of condoms that made her flush.
Starting the shower, she set the t-shirt and towel down on the counter next to the sink and stripped off her clothes. She unstrapped the holster of knives from around her ankle, putting them within easy reach of the shower, just in case. Then she stepped under the spray, savoring the hot water. If the CIA had chosen to invest in hidden luxuries for this place, like good water pressure, she could handle the depressing decor. And after all, she was a CIA agent. Luxury villas or high-end condos were the exception, not the rule.
As she got clean, she took deep breaths. All the things she had been thinking about, like what she would say to Chuck once there were no interruptions, were all jumbled up in her head. She wasn't sure if there was any way to organize her thoughts. There didn't seem to be one perfect way to start talking to him. But it could definitely wait until the morning, she thought as she yawned.
She stepped out of the shower, dried off and got dressed. Pulling on the ponytail holder that had kept her hair out of the shower spray, she shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. She gazed at herself in the mirror and gave herself a silent pep talk. It was time to stop stalling.
When she stepped into the small bedroom, her eyes immediately looked for Chuck. He was stretched out in the bed, the covers pulled up to his chin. For some reason, that made her heart tighten. Whenever they had shared a bed, he had wrapped the covers around himself. She always had thought it was one of his more adorable traits.
His eyes locked on hers as she approached the bed. He cleared his throat. "Okay?"
"Yeah," she said softly, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. She turned off the lamp next to her side and slipped under the covers, shifting a little as she tried to get comfortable. The mattress was surprisingly supportive, free of lumps or squeaky springs. But sharing a bed with Chuck, after so much time apart, meant it was all she could do not to toss and turn.
"Sarah?" Chuck's voice cut through the darkness.
Stretched out on her side with her back facing him, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light, so she couldn't really see his expression enough to figure out what he was feeling. "Yeah, Chuck?" she asked softly.
"What . . . what's going to happen if we can't find my father? If the CIA thinks I need more protection than a few days in a safe house?"
Trust Chuck to immediately ask the hard questions. Because she knew what might happen to him. Even though he was a fully-trained agent, the Intersect was too valuable a weapon for the CIA to risk. If there was a chance that Fulcrum could come after Chuck Bartowski, the Human Intersect . . .
Sarah turned away from him and squeezed her eyes shut. It wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't let that happen. It took all her control to keep her voice even. "One thing at a time, Chuck."
She didn't know if that was enough of an answer for him. Or if he understood that it was all she could say right now. After the day they had experienced, everything looked bleak. She hoped that the morning would bring something good for the both of them.
XXX
The pink-red haze that penetrated her eyelids told Sarah that it was morning. But she was entirely too comfortable to think about opening her eyes and starting her day.
She felt warm, safe. Soft breath stirred the hair on the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. But this shiver didn't portend danger or high alert. It was much more pleasant. An arm was draped over her waist, solid and firm. His fingers were brushing against hers and she sighed. She slowly stroked his warm, soft skin before moving back against Chuck.
Chuck?
Chuck!
Sarah tensed, her eyes flying open. She half-rolled over, ending up partly on her side, partly on her back. She looked up into Chuck's wide brown eyes, feeling her breath catch at what she saw there.
Then, as if their bodies and mind were one, they reached for each other.
It was too hard to describe what was happening and what she was feeling. All she knew was that suddenly, everything seemed right. The feel of his lips against hers. Her hands gripping his t-shirt, sliding into his hair. The way her heart seemed too big for her body, pounding frantically and echoing in her ears.
This was right. This was what she needed.
Only the instinct for oxygen made her stop kissing him, pulling away to take huge, gulping breaths. At some point, her eyes had closed, so she opened them, seeing that Chuck was breathing just as hard as she was. She felt dazed, but she knew she wanted more. Needed more.
Reaching up, she lightly touched his chin before stroking his jaw. She saw his eyes grow hazy before he leaned in and kissed her again. This time, it wasn't frenzied and breathless. Instead, it was slow and deep and searching.
She knew this couldn't go on for long. They both had a lot to talk about before they'd be ready to take this kiss to its logical conclusion. And she wasn't ready to be that close to Chuck without showing him that she was ready to open up to him. She was ready to give him herself. Not everything, since she didn't quite know yet all that she had to give. But even now, she could give him more than she had offered before. And this would be just the start for her, for him, for them.
The kiss ended slowly, each of them lingering, until both of them drew away from the other. Sarah let herself fall back on the bed while Chuck propped himself up on his arms. She looked up at him, then brushed some of her hair out of her eyes.
What could she say? How could words follow up something so perfect? She felt so aware of how bad she was at this: talking, putting her feelings into words. But she had to try.
"Wow," she blurted out.
Chuck grinned at her, his eyes dancing. Sarah felt her face go red and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
"And here I was worried about saying the wrong thing," he teased her, shifting to put his weight on one arm. He lightly stroked her hair and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and sigh. But she couldn't let herself get distracted now.
She arched an eyebrow. "So it wasn't wow for you?"
"Did I say that?" he asked, his grin belying the innocent tone of his voice. "I don't think I said that."
"So what are you saying, then?" she asked, gazing up at him.
It took Chuck a moment to respond. His grin softened into a smile-no, not just a smile. Into that special smile, the one he used to give her when they were together and happy. The one that never failed to make her feel like the center of his world.
"I'm saying . . . wow," he said softly. He leaned in towards her slowly and brushed a kiss over her lips.
Sarah bit her lip, trying to hold back another sigh. It'd be so easy to keep kissing and enjoy this moment. But that was how things had gotten so strained between them in the first place. She hadn't been willing to be vulnerable, hadn't wanted to talk to him about what she was feeling.
She didn't want to do that again.
"Listen, Chuck . . ." she said, keeping her voice soft and gentle, even though she wasn't exactly sure what she was going to say. But she knew she had to let him down easy and cool things off.
Chuck smiled again, in a resigned way this time. "As nice as this is, we're jumping the gun?"
Nodding, she smiled a little, feeling her cheeks flush. "Yeah."
He moved into a sitting position and she mimicked him, pushing herself up and folding her legs underneath herself. Chuck rubbed a hand over his hair, then rested his hands on his knees. "So," he said, looking at her.
"So," she said, looking at him. She hesitated, racking her mind for how to start. But all of the things she had been thinking about for weeks had vanished from her mind. She had a near-photographic memory, yet she couldn't think of a thing to say.
"I-I don't know where to start," Sarah said, looking at Chuck.
"I know," he said, nodding. "There . . . there's a lot." He gazed at her, then cleared his throat. "I might have some ideas. On how to get started. Since I did a lot of thinking while I was undercover."
Hearing that Chuck had been thinking about their issues, like she had, made Sarah feel oddly relieved. "Why don't you go first?" She tried not to fidget as she said, "I think I'll need some time to work up to what I've been thinking about."
Her small admission made Chuck brighten. "You've been thinking about us, too?"
"Of course I have," she said. "I mean . . . we both know that things haven't been right between us for a while. No, that's not it," Sarah said, correcting herself. "It's more that something between us, all of a sudden, just got out of sync."
Chuck nodded. "Yeah . . . 'out of sync' is a good way to put it. And it took me a long time to figure out the reasons why. At least my reasons."
She waited for him to go on, but he didn't. He looked down, rubbing his knees as he hesitated. Should she try and prompt him? Get him talking? Or could she be a little less obvious?
The silence was starting to fill the room, making the tension rise. Taking a breath, Sarah reached out and rested her hand on top of his. "What are your reasons?" she asked, feeling like she was jumping off a cliff without being sure if her parachute was working.
He lifted his head and looked at her, his expression nervous. "Well . . . for starters, I-" Chuck paused and swallowed, seemingly collecting himself. "I stopped talking to you. I stopped trying to ask you what you wanted-I didn't ask you anything, even though I had-have-a million questions. It's not like me to clam up like that."
Sarah frowned a little, thinking over what he had said. That was true: Chuck was inquisitive and talkative. She'd lost count of how many times he'd drawn a stranger into conversation. She had always marveled at how he could get anyone talking. Yet at some point, a point arriving so slowly that she hadn't even noticed, he'd stopped asking her questions. First about her childhood and how she had grown up, then about how she had felt during her spy training, until he didn't even ask her how she was feeling or what she had done that day.
She had become a stranger to him, because he wouldn't ask and she couldn't tell.
"I still want to know, though," he said. "I just got so scared-" He broke off, looking embarrassed.
"Scared?" she asked, hearing the surprise in her voice. "Scared of what?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Of you," he said softly.
"I'm scary?" She felt confused and uncertain. He thought she was scary? What did that mean? Was this some kind of insecurity he had, something to do with her being a woman with extensive martial arts training and weapons experience? Did he think she would hurt him? She started to pull her hand away from his, needing some distance.
"No, no, you're not scary!" he said, quickly grabbing her hand and holding on tight. "But I was scared of you. There's a difference."
"I don't understand, Chuck," she said, feeling those old urges to flee, to run away and hide.
"I was scared of you, not because of anything you've done," he explained, his words coming in a rush. "But I was scared of what would happen if I kept asking you questions, kept pushing you. If you'd get tired of it and just . . ." He looked at her, his eyes wide and frantic. "If you'd decide that it was more than you could handle and you'd leave. Go off and be this amazing woman in amazing places and I'd be alone and-" He swallowed, his voice choked. "Alone and miserable."
In the past, she had been accused of being an ice queen, of having no feelings. It wasn't true. She had plenty of feelings; she had just learned how not to show them, how to hold back until she was alone and safe. But between the weeks of soul-searching and regrets and now Chuck's sweet, honest admission, it was all too much. Her walls couldn't deal with this.
It wasn't just her own behavior that made her feel like she could cry. It was bad enough that she'd been so closed off that he'd been scared of talking to her. But it was also realizing that Chuck had his own insecurities and fears, ones that were strong and hard to overcome like her own. It changed her perspective on him, to see just how deeply his parents had affected him, how their actions had shaped him just as her father's had changed her.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to keep the tears away. "W-why would you think I'd leave?"
Chuck gripped her hand. "As long as I didn't ask, as long as I didn't push you, I could pretend that everything was fine, that we were fine. That you were happy with me."
The words 'That's crazy' were nearly out of her mouth before she realized how that might make him feel. Instead, she only asked, "But isn't the not knowing worse than knowing, one way or another?"
He gave her a small, lopsided smile. "Not when you're doing a really good ostrich impression."
She did her best to smile back at him, then rubbed her thumb against his hand. "You don't have to do that. Be an ostrich, I mean." She looked at him for a moment. "It's really hard for me to talk about myself. To share." Squaring her shoulders, she continued. "I was an only child and it was just me and my dad for most of my life."
Letting go of her hand, Chuck moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her. She leaned into him as she continued speaking, feeling herself grow stronger as she kept speaking. "It was always about me doing what he asked and not complaining. Sticking to the plan. So I learned that it was better to keep my opinions, my feelings, to myself."
There seemed to be several questions he was fighting not to ask. Sarah nodded to him, encouraging him to speak. He shook his head. "No-keep talking."
She couldn't help smiling a little. "I was getting to that. I don't mind you asking me questions. Trying to make me talk. Because . . . because I know you wouldn't hurt me. You're not trying to find out in order to use what you learn against me. You just want to know about me." She hesitated as she felt a pinprick of doubt. "Right?"
He nodded emphatically. "Yes, right. You're just so-you're like this mystery, Sarah. I want to know everything about you, discover all I can, because I-" Chuck's jaws practically clicked together, he closed his mouth so hard. She looked at him curiously, wondering what he was holding back. He only gave her a small, sheepish grin before speaking again. "Can I ask why you and your dad always moved around?"
This was it. This was when she revealed one of her deepest, darkest secrets. Yet it didn't feel nearly as hard as she used to think it would. Of course, she was still a little worried about his reaction, but that was all-worry, not fear.
Still, it took her a moment to find the right words. "My dad was-well, is, actually-he's a con artist. When I was growing up, I'd help him. Be the distraction, the nice little girl who drew everyone's attention while he lifted the bags of money from the armored car." She paused and looked at him. "He's in prison now. He was arrested right before I got recruited."
"Oh, Sarah," Chuck said, gazing at her, his voice soft and tender. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "Don't be. He was bound to get caught at some point. Sometimes, I'm a little grateful that it didn't happen sooner, because then I don't know what would have happened to me." She paused, surprised by what she had just realized. "Because . . . because if it wasn't for him, I don't think I would have gotten recruited. I don't think I would have become such a good spy. And that means I wouldn't have met you."
"That is an incredibly romantic, but also incredibly nice way of looking at things," Chuck said, lightly stroking her hair. "Nicer than I could be, if our positions were reversed."
"I don't think so," she said, curling up against him a little. "Look at how you are with your dad. Willing to give him another chance to be part of your life."
"I could also be a glutton for punishment. A genius who's really dumb." He smiled at her, stroking her back lightly.
"Wrong," she said quietly, smiling back at him.
"You seem to have a very high opinion of me," Chuck said, leaning in towards her. But before he could kiss her, his stomach rumbled loudly.
Sarah couldn't help laughing-no, it was actually a giggle. She had never giggled before.
"Right," Chuck said, laughing as well. "Obviously, I'm hungry."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Were there eggs in the kitchen?"
"There were the fake kind," he said. "You know, the little cartons of liquid not-egg."
"I guess that will have to be good enough," Sarah said as she got up. "Come on, I'm going to make you an omelet."
He grinned widely at her. "Like you did in the suburbs?"
Sarah nodded, grinning back. "That was how I learned how to make an omelet. I wanted to make breakfast for you, so I went through two dozen eggs so I could figure out how to make an omelet. After all that work, I'd hate to lose my touch."
"You learned how to make omelets for me?" He sounded shocked, almost awed, even. Like no one had ever done something so nice for him. But it wasn't that nice, was it? Not really . . .
And she had just told him something personal, something that normally would have been embarrassing to admit, something that she never would have told him. It had happened so naturally she hadn't even realized she was doing it.
Maybe this talking thing wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.
XXX
Sarah stood in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the door jamb as she watched Chuck.
He was sitting on the floor, crouched over the safe house's computer as he continued tinkering. When she had asked him yesterday what he was doing, he'd explained so quickly that she wasn't sure what he was doing. She suspected he was working on the computer partly to keep his mind off the fact there was still no sign that Casey had found Stephen Bartowski.
It had been four days since they had arrived at the safe house. In that time, she was pretty sure she had talked more than she had in her entire life. But it felt so natural, talking to Chuck. It was amazing that she once thought talking was hard. Or maybe it was just something about Chuck. He listened so well and always seemed to know when he should let her talk and figure it out for herself and when she needed him to ask her questions and draw her out.
Their conversations had covered so much ground. She'd never realized just how much he was holding back, because she now knew that Chuck loved to talk about anything. When he was happy, when he was confused, when he was upset. He wasn't doing it to hear himself talk; it was how he processed his emotions, how he figured things out. It was such a different process from her own, which was to think and stay quiet until she knew how she felt. By learning how Chuck worked, she was starting to understand her own nature. It was all so eye-opening to realize these things.
After so many months of soul-searching and struggling as she tried to figure out what kind of woman she was, everything now seemed to be falling into place. Chuck had handed her his digital music player and she'd spent a few hours exploring his music collection, learning what kind of songs she liked. She'd tried that before, of course, but it had always felt like a chore. But this way-listening to a song, asking Chuck about it, seeing him light up as he explained why he liked it-it was so much fun. They'd even had a few bantering arguments about songs and bands. And that was fun, too.
It was like the world was suddenly opening up to her, showing her all the different possibilities that existed. She'd traveled all over, visiting new countries and meeting new people, but she'd always been so focused on the mission that she hadn't let those experiences affect her. But she knew now that it didn't have to be like that. She could experience everything and still keep her edge. At least, she hoped she could. But she had seen how Chuck had marveled at new places while getting the job done. So it was possible; she'd just have to learn how to do it for herself.
"Ouch!"
Chuck's voice drew her out of her thoughts. "What happened?" she asked, walking over and kneeling beside him.
He sucked on his finger for a moment, sending a flutter through her stomach. They'd gotten closer physically as they had opened up to each other, yet they both seemed to be holding back a little. They hadn't followed up on their encounter the first morning in the safe house or even talked about it yet.
"I caught my finger on something inside the case," Chuck said, pulling his finger out of his mouth. He took a look and nodded. "It's not the first time, but it always hurts." He gave her a lopsided grin.
She smiled back at him and took his finger, looking it over. He was right; she couldn't see anything. But giving in to a sudden instinct, she lightly kissed the tip of his finger. "There."
His ears were a light pink as Chuck nodded, looking a bit flustered. "Yeah. Um, hi."
"Hi, yourself," she said, shifting to sit next to him. "Any luck with the computer?"
He shrugged. "I'm just . . ." He paused before speaking again. "I guess I'm just trying to stay busy."
"I know," she said softly, taking his hand. "Casey will contact us when he has any info. He said yesterday that he should know more within the next two days."
Running a hand through his hair, he nodded. "I remember. I'm going a little stir-crazy, I think. Being here, not being able to help Casey, not knowing how my dad is . . ."
She squeezed his hand. "Don't freak out on me, Chuck. It's going to be okay."
"I am freaking out a little," he admitted, looking at her. "But . . . but if you weren't here, I'd be a real basket case." He tugged on her hand and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you for helping me," he said softly.
Her eyes stung as she felt the prick of tears. "You've helped me a lot, too," she said, keeping her voice just as low as his. "More than you know, I think."
His hand lightly stroked her hair. Sarah closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Just as much as their conversations, being physical with each other had helped bridge the gap between them. Not feeling hesitant about holding his hand or kissing his cheek . . . she now understood why Chuck had wanted them to be out in the open about their relationship. Because those little physical touches made her feel closer to Chuck. Made it easier to talk and share with him.
She couldn't go back to how things had been when they were in Rome, keeping their relationship hidden. She wanted the whole world to know how she felt about Chuck.
Sarah flushed, feeling her heart rate increase. Over the last few days, she had spent a lot of time thinking about her feelings. About what she wanted. Ever since Chuck had admitted his worries about not knowing how she felt and how those fears had lead him to stop talking to her, she had been asking herself if she knew what kind of relationship they could have. If this was more than just dating, if it could be more.
The answer to all those questions was on the tip of her tongue, but she still didn't feel one hundred percent ready. She was almost there, she just-
Chuck's hand running over her back distracted her. She let out a soft sigh and nuzzled his neck. "You know," she said softly, "there's lots of ways to stay busy."
His hand stopped moving on her back and he shifted, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. "Wh-what?"
She was tired of thinking. They had spent so much time talking and now she felt so close to him and she knew there were words she needed to say, but she was ready for her actions to do the talking, at least for a little while.
Reaching out, she cupped his face in her hands, lightly stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. She gazed at him, taking in his handsome, expressive, utterly perfect face, then leaned in and kissed him slowly.
It felt so good to kiss him. More than good, really, but there wasn't a word that summed up how it felt to kiss Chuck and have him respond by pressing his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her, feeling his skin rub against hers and get warmer as they touched.
Sarah slid her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as she looked at him. "I-I don't think we're jumping the gun anymore," she said, quoting his words from their first morning in the safe house.
He looked so dazed and befuddled. She always found that look particularly adorable on him. She couldn't help pressing a soft kiss to his lips, then kissing along his jaw as she waited for his answer.
"No . . . yes!"
"What?" she said, pulling back in surprise.
Chuck was breathing hard, his eyes almost comically wide. "I mean, no, we're not jumping the gun now, there's just one more thing to talk about first," he said, almost babbling. "Something I need to tell you-well, not so much need as want. Because I want to tell you something and I hope you'll want to hear it."
She swallowed, feeling strangely nervous as she pulled her arms away from his neck. But she did her best to smile encouragingly at him. "Okay, Chuck."
"It's nothing bad," he said. "At least I don't think it's bad. I'm hoping it's not. I just-I want to know what would happen if I said something."
Now she was really feeling nervous. Chuck's hesitation wasn't out of place, but it did highlight that whatever he wanted to say, it was important. Really, really important.
It took Chuck a moment to gather his thoughts. Sarah waited, trying to stay calm.
"I kinda talked about this before, but . . . but I think we need to talk about where this is going," he said, his hand gesturing between the two of them. He looked at her and she could see he was trying to stay calm and not babble. "We've been dating a while and it's not been your normal relationship, not that I'm saying I want normal in the traditional sense," Chuck said quickly. "Our relationship is normal to us-normal is what we make it. But . . . but I was wondering what you think."
Yet again, Chuck seemed to read her mind. How did he do that? How did he know what she was thinking about and find a way to ask her to talk to him? It was uncanny. And she was using this tangent to put off thinking about Chuck's question and coming up with an answer.
For the longest time, she hadn't thought much about what would come next for them. Part of that was her spy training, which didn't really promote long-term planning. But a lot of it was her own worries about just how long Chuck would want to stay with her, someone who barely knew herself and wasn't all that interesting. At least, she had started to identify that as one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to think about their relationship.
But this time with Chuck, all these conversations . . . she knew what she wanted. Now she just needed to find a way to say it.
"Until the last few days, I never really thought about it," she said, her voice soft. She sounded vulnerable, she realized, but she took a breath and pressed on. "Now . . . now I know what I want." She looked at him, searching his face and trying to be brave. To show him how much she trusted him.
"And-and what do you want, Sarah?" he asked quietly. He was trying to stay calm, she knew. To not push her. But as hard as he tried, his eyes gave him away. Because she could see all his hopes and dreams, waiting for her as he gazed at her.
"I-I don't want to hide anymore," she said, stumbling a little over her words. "I want to be with you and I don't care if Casey knows, if our bosses know. I'm tired of missing you and not being close because of work. And it's not just work." She paused and acting on instinct, grabbed his hand because she needed to be connected to him at this moment. "I don't want to hide myself from you because I'm scared or nervous or-or because I don't feel like I deserve you."
Chuck blinked. "What?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than normal. "You think you don't deserve me?"
She nodded. "You're wonderful. Smart and handsome and funny and-and you've got friends and hobbies and all these different experiences and I'm not like that at all. Until I met you, I was just a spy. And now I don't want to be just Agent Sarah Walker, but it's hard work figuring yourself out and until lately I thought I'd never be able to do it. At least not before you finally realized how I'm only my job and you'd . . . you'd decide you could do better."
"I must be in some kind of bizarro world," Chuck said slowly. "Because you seem to think I could do better than you."
Sarah bit her lower lip. "I know that must make me sound really, really insecure. I don't always think like that. But . . . but sometimes, that's how I feel. And I usually felt like that whenever I thought about us."
"Sarah-" he said, breaking off and running his hands through his hair. "You are-wow. I had no idea, which makes me feel like a bad boyfriend for not figuring this out. But now I know and I'm not going to let you keep feeling this way." He looked at her, then reached out and cupped her face. "I'm never going to think I could do better than you. Because you, Sarah Walker, are the best person I've ever met."
His voice rang with sincerity, his eyes shone with the truth of his words. She felt a strange fluttering sensation around her heart, something she'd never really felt before. But whatever it was, it filled her up and made her feel like the sun was shining after a month of rain.
She opened her mouth to say something-not that she knew what she was going to say-but Chuck brushed his thumb over her lips. "I know I can't make all your insecurities go away. I get that. But . . . but you never have to worry about me, Sarah." He gazed at her for a moment. "I love you."
What?
He loved her?
"Ex-excuse me?" she said, staring at him dumbly. She couldn't have heard him right, not if she was thinking he said "I love you." But why would she imagine that?
And suddenly, that strange emotion she had been feeling, the one that made her feel whole, it started making sense. She knew what it was.
Chuck's smile was soft and happy and hopeful. "I said I love you. It's nice to say. I love you, Sarah. I think I've known for a while but I just wasn't ready to say the words, not until I got past my own hang-ups so I could tell you that I love you."
Sarah was pretty sure she was trembling. She wasn't sure, because she seemed to have lost all her senses except her hearing and her sight. All she could hear and see was Chuck. And he was waiting for her. Not pressing for an answer, not expecting to hear his feelings returned. Just waiting for her to say something.
In a moment like this, she'd expect it to be difficult to talk. To open up and say what she was feeling. But Sarah found that it wasn't hard at all.
"I love you, too," she said, hearing the wonder in her voice. Because it was pretty amazing. She had thought she was just a spy, but she wasn't. She was more. And Chuck loved her.
His face lit up, a huge happy smile spreading across his face before he leaned in and kissed her slowly. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him back, to wrap her arms around him, to get as close as possible to him.
There was nothing to hold them back now. No interruptions like Morgan or a mission or even a lack of condoms. It was just Chuck and Sarah.
As they moved to the bed and slowly undressed each other, Sarah knew she was smiling nearly as brightly as Chuck. She was so incredibly happy. She'd never felt like this before and it was new and a little scary, but she didn't care because right now she was nearly drunk on euphoria. Not even Chuck pulling away and saying "Condom!" before dashing off could break this spell. And when he came back, carrying just one condom instead of bringing the whole box like any other man would, she couldn't help giggling and pulling him down into a kiss.
Each touch felt magnified, each kiss felt sweeter and hotter than the last. She didn't know if it was because of how long it'd been since they were together or if it was their emotions that made everything better. She guessed it was the emotions, but as Chuck looked into her eyes just before they became one, she knew she'd think about it later. Because now was about feeling.
XXX
An unexpected yet familiar noise jerked Sarah from sleep. Her well-trained instincts made her come to a sitting position, one of her throwing knives already in her hand by the time her eyes were open and her mind was fully awake.
Casey was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. It must have been one of his trademark grunts that woke her. There was a strange look on his face. She'd say it was disgust, but there was something else there, too. Something that almost looked like satisfaction.
Realizing that the covers were slipping enough that Casey was about to get an eyeful, she quickly wrapped one arm over her chest, holding the sheets in place. "Casey? What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound professional. But she knew the jig was up, since it was pretty clear what Chuck and she had been doing.
Chuck, who had been fast asleep next to her, woke up with a snort. "Casey?" He looked at Sarah and grinned. "Not the name I expected to hear first thing in the morn-Casey!" Chuck yelped as he sat up and pulled the bed covers up to his chin.
Casey let out a noise that was half-grunt, half-chuckle. "Finally."
Sarah couldn't help a small, rueful smile. "Yeah," she said, looking over at Chuck. He still looked embarrassed at having been caught in bed naked by the third member of their team, but he did his best to smile, too.
"Not that I ever need to see this, ever again," Casey said, gesturing to the two of them. "So put some clothes on and I'll be in the kitchen." With a nod, he turned and left the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
Laughing softly, Sarah flopped back on the bed. "That wasn't how I planned to tell Casey that we are officially together."
"I was kind of hoping we wouldn't have to tell him officially," Chuck said, mimicking her action by laying back down.
She raised an eyebrow. "No?"
Chuck shrugged. "I just thought we'd start holding hands or something and he'd get the message."
"Very spy-like of you," she said, grinning. She kissed his cheek, then got out of bed and started getting dressed.
"Hey, Casey is not the person I want to talk to about my romantic relationship," Chuck said, getting up and stretching.
Sarah smiled even as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Good point." She smoothed down her t-shirt and sat down on the bed to pull on her boots. "But we're not worrying about keeping this a secret anymore." She paused and looked up at him. "Right?"
"Right," he said, zipping up his jeans and leaning down to kiss her quickly. "No secrets."
His words were a relief. It was one thing to get discovered by Casey; it was another to work with him now that their relationship was a known fact. Knowing that Chuck wasn't freaking out about this was reassuring.
She waited until he had pulled on a button-down and put on his sneakers, then she held her hand out to him. He smiled at her softly and they walked out of the bedroom hand-in-hand.
End, Chapter 12
