NoMoreNextTimes20

A/N: Sorry for the length. Trying to get this done and do some serious fishing. Nicole's getting frantic with the pace of the nups and that damned 'event planner' keeps interrupting our lives. She just left for NO for the final month of teaching and then her dis/def and I'm finishing this up, doing a little financial stuff and enjoying the weather. APR

Marathon Air/Sea Training Center – Dispensary
10pm

Chuck got out of the bed and cursed Mako Madison with horrible things when he realized she'd drugged him and kept him until the Agency's 'enforcers' could arrive and take him into custody. He'd asked for medical help but not anesthesia.

He noted new dressings, a tightness underneath several of them and reduced swelling in the calf. OK, she'd done exactly what he'd asked and he'd just given her the opportunity to follow her orders.

He used the lavatory and then faced a decision. Leave or stay. Escape to fight and die or stay to explain and be entombed, dying a little each day. He made a much simpler decision first.

"Sam? Sam?" He didn't want to wake her but he could only imagine how her neck would feel in the morning twisted like it was. Something bad must have happened. Her lap and the floor around her were littered with tissues and she'd obviously been crying unless her new eye makeup called for vertical mascara and eyeliner stripes.

She wasn't as heavy now as she'd been in Burbank or he'd gotten stronger. He picked her up from the chair and bent to put her down on the bed when he heard her whisper " Please, Chuck, don't let me go. Not again. Hold on this time. Don't let me go, please?" He was so startled by her tone of voice that carried something he'd never heard from her, pleading, that he almost dropped her. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

He sat on the bed, still holding her, and she took her arms from around his neck and snaked them around his bare back, snuggling against his bare chest, her head tucked under his chin.

"What's got you so upset, Sam? Has something happened to Daniel?" Why else would she be crying?

"Not Sam, Chuck. Not Sam again, ever. I'm Sarah, Chuck. Your Sarah. I'm so sorry for…"

"No. Stop. Don't 'handle' me, Agent Walker. I'm a big boy now. I won't be 'handled'. Just tell me why you're here. In Marathon. In this room."

She sighed and loosened her hold on him. She'd lost him now. He wouldn't believe anything she said and she couldn't blame him.

"Beckman told me you were dead, killed in the harbor here at Marathon. I'd already made a deal with her to get back on the team but she told me I had to earn my way and she wanted the dirt on Shaw. So she sent me away with him but called me back the next evening. She told me you were dead."

"Why would…" She put her hand to his lips.

"Shhh, Chuck. I've spent the whole day listening to your story, now spend a few minutes listening to mine."

" The morning you left for training I realized that I loved you, the 'until death do us part' love you, and that Shaw had been a mistake, a horrible mistake on my part. I threw him out and went to the briefing and was told the team was gone and that Shaw and I were to return to DC. No one would tell me what had become of you until I met with Beckman the next day."

"Chuck, look." She held out the arm wearing the bracelet. "It's never been off since Burbank. I wore it to the briefing that morning hoping you'd see it and talk with me but you were gone."

"I told Beckman that I was in love with you and that I wasn't 25 any more and I wanted a life but she told me you were just starting a career and then she assigned you and Rico as partners. She sent me off with Shaw telling me that the sooner I got the goods on him the sooner she'd consider me on your team again. And then…you were dead."

She started to cry again. He just held her and rocked her until she could speak coherently again. Chuck had no idea how long that was and didn't care. He needed to hear what she had to say even if he didn't believe a word of it.

"Sorry. I get so upset lately. I cry over silly things. When I was in London Casey ordered me to DC but Shaw got us assigned as CIA liaisons and I ran into Cole Barker. He told me you were alive and I…I had a panic attack and passed out."

"Shhh. Don't get upset now. Tell me the rest, Sam."

She sighed. "Damn it, Bartowski, quit being a horse's ass. I fucked up, OK? I was so lost and I just had to have…I don't know. You left me in Prague, you came back and…and I… Oh, Chuck, I love you more than anything and I'll die if you don't love me back. I never meant to hurt you. You were with Hannah and…"

"Shhh. Calm down. I have questions I need answers to and I want the truth not some Agency bullshit. Are you and Shaw together?"

"No. I wouldn't let him near me after DC. I…"

"Are you working for the Ring? I'll let you go if you are, so don't worry. I'll let you run but I have to know, Sam, I have to know before anything else, so tell me. Are you a Ring operative?"

"You'll let me go? You won't have me arrested? Why not? Why let me go?"

"Because I love you. Not some adolescent crush like at first, not some hormone-laden love like with Jill, no, real love. The kind where the other person's more important than anything or anyone, the first face you want to see in the morning and the last face at night. So, I'll let you go, tell them lies, anything to protect you. I'm a shitty agent, Sam, because I came compromised, I just refused to acknowledge it."

"And I owe you an apology, Sam. I understand about the kiss at the bomb in the very beginning, about Bryce and Cole and even Shaw. After the shitstorm at Desert One I'd have had sex with Rico among the bodies, I just… I'm sorry for being an ass. I understand the need to reconnect with life now. So, tell me, Sam. Are you a Ring agent?"

"The Chuck I know would never lie. You'd let me go, honest?"

"Yeah, honest. Are you a Ring agent? Did Shaw turn you?" Too many questions from her. Too much indecision for a simple yes or no answer.

"Chuck, I – I –"

He put her back down in the chair where he'd found her when he'd awakened.

"Just go, Sam. I've got your Porsche. The keys are in my pants. I'll tell Beckman something to give you time to get lost, get back with the Ring. Just…just go, Sam, and please be careful." He fumbled around looking for his pants. He needed a cigarette and he needed…he had what he needed right there but…

"I have the keys if that's what you're looking for. Maureen wanted someone to take care of your 'ride'. You have good taste in cars, Bartowski, and I see you've learned not to ride the clutch."

She debated. Was he telling the truth? Did he mean what he said? Or was he really the quintessential agent she'd been hearing about? Would he just let her go on her way without trying to stop her? A leap of faith.

"I trust you, Chuck. I trust you to keep your word. So I'll tell you the truth."

"Ahhh, here they are." He stood up, his back to her, and fumbled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. He'd kept the silencer on his weapon and had put it on the bedside table and laid his pants over it when he'd first sat down on the bed with the medic. If Walker was a Ring agent, he'd let her go and pray he never ran across her again. He knew she was the consummate agent, even as a Ring traitor, and that she'd put personal feelings aside and kill him if the situation warranted.

"Yes, Chuck. I work for the Ring now."

He was glad his back was to her. "Then get out, Sam. Get out now! The next time I see you, I'll try to take you out, kill you and I will, Sam, just like you'll have to. It's all we're good for now. I meant what I said. I love you more than anything. So please, please go now." He could feel the pressure building behind his eyes and the beginnings of tears.

"Chuck…"

"Please… Sam, please, run, hide, don't let them find you."

"Look at me, Chuck Bartowski. Turn around and look at me!"

He slipped the safety off the pistol and turned toward her. She gasped as she saw first the pistol he held and then his face, so cold and emotionless and yet…there were tears in his eyes.

She touched his face, letting her fingertips trail down his chest.

"I had to know, Chuck. I had to know if you really loved me and you do. I could never work for the Ring, not knowing they were trying to kill the man I love. So lying about the Ring was a leap of faith for me. Please, don't be mad."

"You – it was a test? I could have killed you, you idiot! Where the hell are your brains, Sam!"

"God damn you, it's SARAH!! Forget Sam. Forget I ever said it. It's always going to be Sarah so get used to it. You'll be using it for the next 50 damned years or so." She looked so tired, worn, world-weary. He could see that whatever had happened today had taken a toll on her physically.

"Get in the bed, Sam…shit, Sarah. I've trained myself to use 'Sam'; somehow it distanced me from…from the pain of you fucking Shaw. I could pretend it wasn't my Sarah he was banging, that my Sarah was still…"

"Stop torturing yourself, Chuck. I said goodbye to 'Sam' the moment I knew you were alive, even before that. We both were stupid so let's agree on that and then move on. I'm tired, Chuck, and I'm recovering from surgery. I'm on convalescent leave and…can I stay here, with you, please? I've got a room at the VOQ and I can use it if you don't…"

"This bed stinks like pain, fear and worry. Let's use your VOQ. I don't feel up to anything and now I know you're not up for anything in the near future so let's use this time for…becoming the couple we always should have been: Chuck and Sarah, OK?"

"Yes. But get dressed. Please. At least put on pants. And a shirt. I didn't realize you were…naked under the sheet until you stood to get the keys. Clothes, please? I never thought I'd be telling you to get dressed, not in my wildest dreams."

"Yeah, the corpsman's work does detract from the manly image, doesn't it?"

"That isn't it at all and you damned well know it. It's been 8 months without you and now, the timing couldn't be worse. I had a benign fibroid tumor removed. I'll be fine but…"

"So this trip has been hard on you?"

"You have no idea. I've been in such mental anguish, Chuck, but you made it all go away. I was terrified of learning your story. At first when Casey approached me in the airport I thought it was to tell me you were dead, then as he explained things, that they'd lost you somehow and wanted me to find you, then that you were killed in Savannah and finally that you'd turned up here. The anticipation of seeing you again was almost painful and I was so afraid you were going to reject me. It was all mental pain but I am tired."

Chuck got dressed and then started to laugh.

"Share the joke, Chuck?"

"Casey and Mako are going to flip out when they come in here and we're gone."

"Mako?"

"Maureen 'Mako' Madison, Master Chief and all around ball-buster. They call her that because…hell, ask her yourself."

"I need my laptop and suitcase out of the car, Sarah, and then I'm ready to become your pillow for the night. I have work to do. You can watch or sleep."

"Chuck, I'm sorry about not being able to y'know... I mean…"

"Shhh. I haven't exactly been a monk." He waited for the explosion but was surprised by her response.

"How long did it take Rico to get in your pants, Chuck?" She was grinning. "I'll bet it didn't take long."

"Eight months and 12 days. It was in London. And not because she wasn't happy with…things." Did she hear a whisper of regret in his voice? Sad not to have had more intimate time with his dead partner?

Sarah sensed that she'd stepped in it. His response was not what she'd expected and it surprised her. "I wasn't being catty, Chuck. She was beautiful and she could be everything to you as an agent that I couldn't be as a handler. I'm surprised you held out that long."

"So am I." There was that look on his face again. The one that made her want to just grab him and hold him close and never let him be hurt again.

She fell asleep as soon as she'd curled up against him. He set his laptop on his stomach and began reading and occasionally making notes in a pop-up window. The laptop chimed a conference request and he hit the 'accept' button without thinking.

"Ah, the elusive Agent Drake. How is Mako treating you? Have Casey and Walker arrived yet?"

He gave a very guarded response. "Yes, General, they're in the VOQ."

"And you're in the dispensary shaking off the effects of the sedative, no doubt. I'm sorry to have resorted to such deception but it was vital that we evaluate your situation and physical condition…"

"You mean find out if I've lost my mind, don't you, General? I see you sent the honey trap expert as a foil to the Colonel's usual brevity and heavy handedness."

Beckman seemed momentarily distressed and then grew pensive. She made a few keystrokes and he saw a request pending to accept a downloaded file.

"I'm sending you something I'm not very proud of. As you pointed out, I frequently do the right things for the morally wrong reasons. Look at the file I sent you and you may reevaluate your position. Considering that Agent Walker is currently using you as a pillow I'm sure you'll reconsider your 'bunker demand' as well. I'll speak with you again in the morning. Sleep well, Agent Drake."

It was a large file and took several minutes to load. He was momentarily distracted when Sarah murmured in her sleep and changed position, turning on her side and moving a leg over his and letting her hand slip down under the sheet until it was almost in danger of upsetting - the laptop. He lost his train of thought as she began to quietly snore and run her fingertips across his abdomen in an unpredictable pattern.

The file finished loading and executed. It was a surveillance file from Beckman's office. He saw General Beckman and a tired looking Sam Walker. And Daniel Shaw. He turned down the volume.

He saw Shaw grimace at the General and go leaving Beckman and Walker alone.

"Agent Walker, your conduct in the past few months has been under close review and scrutiny. I thought that after the 49-B assessment and its aftermath your relationship with the asset might have been more supportive and beneficial. He's quite special, Agent, and he needs a special person beside him to guide him and support him. Do you think you're still that special person, the one he thought you were until…Shaw wormed his way into the mix? An honest answer, please. Time is short and I have a very full schedule."

"What difference does it make, General? I'm here, he's there. And Shaw seems to be my new partner. So, what difference does it make if I still feel he's the one…I mean, that I can be what he needs to accomplish the missions?"

"You're wearing Natalie's bracelet. Do you know what it means, Agent Walker? It's more than just a pretty thing, you know. Steve gave it to her and together they added charms to celebrate and mark events in their lives. If you're not the one, then why are you wearing it?"

"It's a symbol, a token, a promise. There was supposed to be some much more but he just had to download the damned 2.0 and be the hero he thought I needed. It all went to shit after that. He wouldn't run with me. He flunked spy school. He was all I ever wanted but now…I just don't know anymore, General. I'm sorry if that's the wrong answer but it's the truth. He taught me that. The truth."

"I see. Well, that is all. Good luck on your new assignment, Agent. Things have a way of working out and what should be – usually is."

He saw Sam Walker turn and start to leave and almost heard her ragged sigh.

"I love Charles Bartowski, General. But I made mistakes. He made mistakes. We made mistakes. I tried to do my duty. I drove him away time after time and still he managed to get by all my defenses and he loved me, General, after all I did. And I betrayed that unconditional love and trust with one word, General, just one word."

Beckman looked at her expectantly.

"I want back on the Team, General. Please. I'll do anything to get back to the Team and him. I'll even put up with Shaw until you find a suitable replacement but please, reconsider this assignment."

"That'll be all, Agent. Good day."

And Chuck knew the truth. And the truth does set ye free.

He closed the laptop and set it aside, succumbing to the call of nature. He slipped on boxers, took care of business and then walked out the back door and sat on the stoop and smoked a cigarette. He needed to rethink his plan.

He needed a new module in his scenario. He was running out of time. The bunker had been a red herring only for Casey, something to throw him off the scent in the short term. Ever since his physical, he created 'issues' to distract them.

A/N: All is not well. Don't assume.