Chapter 29:
It takes awhile to chase Ellie out of the condo. It's clear she's still suspicious of Chuck and Sarah but as she's no longer able to find any more fissures in their cover story, she has no choice but to relent.
After several promises of a dinner date with her and Devon sometime in the near future, Ellie is satisfied and finally leaves the premises—leaving Sarah and Chuck barely enough time to get ready for the wedding.
It takes some work, but Sarah eventually manages to mask the evidence of the previous day. As she looks herself over in the mirror, she concedes that she couldn't have hoped for better. At the very worst, she'll look a little more haggard than she used to and if she's lucky, her state of appearance will go unnoticed.
She takes out the most conservative dress she brought with her and covers her arms with a sweater just in case. She already knows the wives will disapprove of her lack of fashion sense but she still figures it's better than accidentally revealing a bruise or two...or three.
Chuck gives her an appreciative lookover nevertheless when she declares herself ready to go.
"Wow."
Sarah shrugs, hoping she doesn't give everything away with the telltale blush creeping up to her cheeks.
"Wow what?"
Chuck shrugs, adding to the failing nonchalance. "You look really good…for someone who took a ride through a meat grinder yesterday."
Sarah can't help but smile at that. He doesn't look half bad himself.
"Thanks. I'm good at cover-ups—at least when your sister isn't involved."
Chuck gives her a grim grin in agreement. "She's impossible, isn't she?"
"I'm sorry she thought the worst in you."
He shrugs it off but it's undeniable that the truth hurts. "I've been lying to her pretty much every time I've spoken to her in the last decade. I think I probably deserve the worst."
Sarah sighs. "You deserve so much more; you only seem to get the worst."
Chuck waves her off. "Nah, I had you for a little while." He pauses just long enough for the meaning to truly sink in. "And you were definitely worth the trouble."
Sarah's eyes flit upwards to meet his gaze and she feels her heart flutter at the brief connection. They tread too close though, and Chuck immediately breaks the moment by heading for the door.
She's left wondering if he really means it.
Why else would he say it?
Still, did he truly believe that their brief moments of happiness were worth all the pain she'd caused him?
Chuck and Sarah arrive at the church just in time to mingle with the crowd gathered in the hall. All eyes seem to fixate on them from the moment they enter. It's as if everyone can see right through all the make-up; as if they know exactly what's happening behind the scenes.
Sarah clutches Chuck's arm and sticks close to his side. He looks down at her, alarmed, and pries her fingers gently off of his suit.
"It's okay, Sarah," he soothes. "No one's going to hurt us here."
She stares at him; challenging his easy assurances, but he doesn't seem to catch her meaning. Ever since Ellie's departure she's wanted to ask him exactly what he meant when he said they wouldn't be getting a divorce.
She can't bring herself to though; because even though he's made himself abundantly clear, even though she's promised herself not to forget how much it hurt the first time...it's still not over. She wonders if he still thinks she's worth all this.
She already knows her answer.
Sarah looks carefully around the church. "People are staring at us."
Chuck quirks his eyebrows at her and bestows her with a rare smile of amusement. "They're not staring at us, they're staring at you."
"Me?" Sarah looks down at herself and flushes, suddenly acutely aware that the clothes off her back couldn't afford the sales tax on the dresses of some of the other wives. "Do I look that bad?"
Chuck laughs when he sees her trying to pull her sweater down, forcing it to cover more than it was meant to. "Sarah." He grabs her hand and holds it steady. "You look great. They're just wondering who'd be crazy enough to marry a man like me." He smiles and gives her a chaste peck on the cheek. "I'm going to see where our seats are."
Sarah stiffens at the thought of their impending separation. The reminder that they all think she's crazy doesn't help.
You are crazy.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
Chuck hesitates. He swallows slowly and looks at her, as if waiting for her to say something more.
Do you? he seems to ask.
She makes no confession, and Chuck's unwilling to be the one to put his heart on the line.
He shakes his head. "No. I'll be fine—I'll be right back."
Please don't leave me.
Sarah braves a smile. "You know where to find me," she says, barely able to tease him. He smiles back and wades through the crowd, and suddenly she's alone in a place she never wanted to be.
"Welcome to the party, Superstar." Melinda appears seemingly out of thin air with two full flutes of champagne. "I was beginning to think you two were going to be a no-show."
Sarah takes the proffered glass and gulps the bubbly down as if it were water.
"Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed that," she says, finishing her glass. Melinda raises a brow but doesn't make mention of her apparent thirst.
"Care for another?" she asks, offering her own full flute.
Caught on the proverbial ledge before a potentially harrowing fall, Sarah quickly declines. One glass was enough. She can't afford any more slip-ups. She's here for Chuck.
"No." Then, in a desperate bid to explain herself, she adds: "Sorry, Melinda, weddings just aren't my thing."
Melinda laughs. "I remember. That's like the only thing I know about you."
Sarah wrinkles her brows but the answer is given easily enough.
"We invited the two of you to our wedding but only Chuck showed." Melinda ribs her playfully with her elbow. Sarah flinches from the pain but manages not to show it.
"Come on, seriously? What can you possibly have against weddings? Did something ruin your day?"
Sarah feels her face flush but she's quick to blame it on the alcohol. "No. No, it was fine."
Wrong adjective to use for only one of the most important days of your life.
Melinda gives her a curious look.
"I was never one of those little girls who dreamed about their wedding day," Sarah quickly explains. "And I hate making a fuss of things."
Melinda laughs at that. "Ah, but what's a wedding without a dash of drama?" She raises her brows and nods in a certain direction.
Sarah follows her gaze, not realizing what the woman means until she sees her husband and a scantily clad woman in very close proximity to one another. Never mind that there were other people around them, the very fact the floozy had her long manicured nails ensnared around Chuck's elbow was enough to make her see red.
Sarah clenches her jaw, allowing only a low rumbling growl to escape her lips.
"What is that woman's name again?"
"Becky Birch," Melinda says, taking a wistful sip of champagne.
From across the room, the statuesque brunette with the obviously fake chest pretends to trip and falls into Chuck's arms. To his credit, Chuck does the only polite thing by catching her before she hit the floor.
"Don't worry. It happens...you have to mark your territory or these hags are going to think he's still up for grabs. And no—a wedding band is just a pretty piece of jewellery here. Wait until the bridesmaids see him…"
Melinda nods her head in the same direction but this time her gaze seems focused on a man standing by himself. Despite being every bit as well dressed, and probably every bit as charming as Chuck, there's isn't a single woman in his vicinity who gave him the time of day.
"Archie was the same way," Melinda says with a rather pleased smile. "Until I set them straight. Perhaps it's time you did a little straightening out of your own."
Sarah smiles but it fails to reach her eyes; all she sees is the harlot in scandalous red and none other.
"Will you excuse me for a moment?" she asks through gritted teeth. Exchanging her empty glass for Melinda's full one, she takes a long sip for courage and crosses the room.
Becky Birch is still clinging to Chuck when she approaches.
"Hey...honey," Sarah greets, her voice oozing with saccharine sweetness. Taking Chuck's other arm, she presses her body close against the side of his body and draws his attention until their eyes meet.
Chuck gulps and looks genuinely taken aback. "Hey...sweetie..." he greets, the endearment tumbling awkwardly from his lips.
She stares into those warm soulful eyes and wonders if she's wagered a bet she has no way of winning.
Chuck recovers quickly enough and when he kisses her full on the lips, Sarah's the one who has to remind herself that this is all for show.
She barely has time to enjoy the moment before it's gone; like candy floss it melts away and all she has is the memory of something so fleeting and sweet.
"Missed me?" he asks with a quirk and a smile.
"Hmm?" She falls into his arms, pressing one ear flat against his chest. It's hard to tell whether the pounding she hears is the rapid beating of his heart or simply all the blood rushing to her head.
It's impossible for two women to share the same space and when Chuck makes the decision to take Sarah in his arms, the other woman has to move aside.
Becky Birch takes a step back, looking like a puppy kicked to the curb.
"I should go..."
Sarah knows it's all for show but she can't help but feel victorious. Clutching Chuck possessively in her hold, she shoots a murderous glare at the brunette.
Back off—he's mine.
Well…I mean…he's certainly not yours anyway.
No words transgress between them but the woman seems to catch the drift. Reluctantly and not without a trace of disappointment, the brunette slinks away to lick her wounded pride.
"Do you know her?" Sarah asks, still staring at the woman's retreating figure.
"Um...who?"
Sarah pulls back, trying to ascertain whether he was serious or simply teasing. By all accounts, Chuck appeared completely sincere in his query.
"Her," Sarah says, jerking a thumb in the direction of the toady social-climber. "Becky Bitch."
"Excuse me?"
Sarah blinks. "What?"
"You just called her a bitch."
The accusation makes her cheeks flush hot with shame. "I did not," she dismisses, cursing the Freudian slip. "Why would I do that?"
"I have no idea, you tell me," Chuck says, persisting to the very end. "I think she's perfectly nice."
The statement makes Sarah want to gnash her teeth together in frustration. "Of course she's nice; she's trying to get in your pants!"
Chuck looks at her in shock. "No, she's not, she's married!"
"Come on, Chuck, she's only interested in you for your money."
"Well of course she is!" Chuck replies without so much as blinking. Sarah's eyes widen in shock.
You know?
Sarah opens her mouth but no words could come forth; her jaw just hung open in shock.
"Her husband's business is going through a really rough time and if he doesn't find an investor he'll probably go bankrupt. Of course Becky's being nice to me and it has nothing to do with my pants." Chuck shakes his head in disappointment. "You know, that's always been your problem, Sarah. You're always so quick to see the bad in people.
"Dick!"
Sarah flinches at the insult. It was a little uncalled for and she was just about to tell him so when Chuck waves someone over to join them.
"Hey, Dick, I want to introduce you to my wife."
That's when she realizes who he really is.
Richard Kipling.
Looks pretty harmless, right?
Kipling is essentially an anti-Hawkins; a man with a tongue of lead rather than silver, who dressed as if his clothes were from the Salvation Army rather than the expensive outfitter he probably frequented. His intentions were likely good but the whole package left more to be desired. In short, Kipling was unassuming which immediately caught Sarah's attention.
Chuck was a pretty unassuming guy too.
"She's here?" the man asks in surprise. "How…" His voice trails off as he realizes who Sarah must be. "Oh, my…"
Sarah's smile wavers. She didn't want to do this with Chuck; she wanted to do this for him. But here he was, sticking his neck out for her, putting himself in the face of danger for her sake.
"Richard Kipling this is my wife, Sarah."
"Hi, Sarah Bartowski," she introduces, extending her hand to be shaken. "I've been dying to meet you."
It's disconcerting that for a second she thinks she may have been slobbered on by a dog—his hand was dripping wet with sweat.
Sarah politely wipes her hand against the back of her dress, all the while continuing to smile.
The words elicit a fit of nervous laughter in the innocuous looking man. "You…you have? Why?" Kipling squeaks.
Sarah's mind races to come up with a suitable explanation, but Chuck doesn't miss a beat. "Well we both attended your talk on the Future of Data Buffering in 3D Rendering Engines and ever since, you're all Sarah can talk about."
"Uh…" Richard looks startled and Sarah wants to balk. Even this lie is more than she can pull off.
"It's nice to finally meet you," Sarah finally manages to say.
"The same… I'm so glad you're here," he says, staring at her and trying not to all at the same time. The end result is a man who looks incredibly distracted.
Sarah's smile momentarily falters. Kipling seems sincere enough in his words but she can so easily take them to mean something else entirely. It's precisely why Chuck and her so often don't see eye to eye. Only this time she feels justified in her suspicions.
"Oh? How come? Did you expect us not to make it?" she asks. Sarah bats her lashes innocently, keeping with the same stupid grin on her face.
Kipling blinks. "Uh, no, not at all...just that we so rarely see the two of you together...so nice to see that you are...and that you're here...uh…Chuck…sorry, I really need to make a phone call. It was nice meeting you!" Kipling waves at them and then turned and practically fled in the other direction.
"Okay, he's definitely up to something." Sarah states. She watches him make his way through the crowd wondering if she should capture him here and now at the wedding and find someplace to interrogate him.
"I don't know." Chuck shakes his head. "Dick's not really the criminal mastermind type."
"But did you see how nervous he was? And did you see how shocked he was that I was here?"
"Oh, that?" Chuck smiles and waves it off. "Don't mind that, Dick's always like that around women. He's brilliant, but he's terrified of women."
"What?" Sarah swivels around to face Chuck again. "That's preposterous." She had done her best to appear as approachable and harmless as possible.
Chuck shrugs. "You hang around in this business long enough and trust me, you meet all kinds." He nods in the direction of Sarah's arch nemesis. "So what had you so uptight about Becky? Is she on your big list of criminal suspects too?"
"Chuck, this isn't a game," Sarah whispers, glancing around them.
"I know, but these people are my friends and colleagues. You need to be nice to them. Becky's husband is a good guy and Becky, well I mean she has her moments, but she's always been nice to me."
Because she's trying to get in your pants!
"Besides…you have nothing to be jealous about. You're a million times prettier than Becky Birch." Chuck reaches out and gives her arm a reassuring squeeze and Sarah's reminded of how absolutely dreadful she must look. Her face burns with embarrassment.
"I wasn't jealous," she flatly denies.
Chuck's ensuing laughter was if nothing else, light-hearted. "I've seen the green eyed monster rear enough times to know when you're jealous, Sarah.
"I didn't know you still cared."
Sarah fidgets nervously beside Chuck. This was it, it was now or never. "Chuck, I…"
"Hey, well if it isn't the elusive couple!" A man Sarah can only deduce as Archibald Watts appears and wraps his arm around Chuck, breaking them apart. His wife Melinda follows behind, bestowing Sarah with an approving wink and grin.
"This is so much easier when it isn't you, right? Man, I was a mess on my wedding day." Archibald laughs nervously as he runs his hand carelessly through his hair. "You remember, right Mellie?"
Melinda raised her brows in question but kept silent, almost as if she didn't want to remember. "Oh, were you there? I don't really remember..." Melinda jokes, getting a small laugh from the quartet.
"I know what you mean. I was a mess too," Chuck confesses.
Sarah nearly chokes on room air. "What?" she exclaims and looks at him, unsure whether they were still speaking for their covers or speaking the truth.
Chuck blushes and refuses to meet her eyes. "I was..." he says.
She shakes her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The way she remembers it, he'd been as solid as a pillar and she'd been the one on the verge of a mental breakdown.
"You know...you never did get around to telling me about your wedding day," Melinda reminds, prompting her to take a trip down memory lane.
Sarah swallows nervously. Sometimes she really hated her job.
She barely knew these two and they expected her to share this unimaginably private moment with them?
Chuck wraps his arm around her waist. "It was a quiet affair," he says, sparing her the discomfort. "A private wedding with just family and friends."
Even Chuck's sparse on the details, and Sarah doesn't blame him.
The past is all the more painful given their present.
Archibald and Melinda smile approvingly. "We wouldn't expect any less from two of the most private people I know," Melinda teases, and raises her glass to them. "Hope it was memorable—you only get one, right?"
Sarah takes a deep breath...then another...and another but it's just not working. Adrenaline is coursing through her body and even though she's hardly had more than an hour of sleep last night, she feels ready to leap out of her chair and run out of the room—wedding dress and all.
She doesn't recognize the person in the reflection. Who is the frightened little girl staring back and what has she done with Agent Sarah Walker?
This is a mistake. For the millionth time she thinks of just taking off and only the thought of Chuck's crushed expression pushes her back down and forces her to sit tight.
For once in your life, just do the right thing. She's lived the life of a coward long enough. She can do this. Sophie did it—why couldn't she?
"No. You can't see her. It's bad luck to see the bride."
Sarah turns to the door, suddenly aware that she was no longer alone. She recognizes the voice instantly as that of her friend and confidante and the other—
"Just one minute. I promise. I'll even close my eyes."
"No. You've waited this long to get married, you can wait a few minutes more to see your bride."
"But—"
"No buts! It's bad luck!"
Sarah jumps out of the chair and runs to the door in the completely impractical ensemble. She yanks the door open, afraid she'll miss her chance and runs out—but he's still there.
Chuck's eyes brighten at the sight of her and his mouth hangs open in a dazed smile.
Sarah drops the folds of her long white gown and just stares, completely forgetting what she's come to say.
"Oh for goodness sakes!" Sophie admonishes. "Do you two have no sense of the moment? You can moon over each other with your love-sick sighs all you want when this is over." She turns to Chuck, stern as a spinster. "Now shoo—it's bad luck—"
"I don't believe in that stuff," Sarah dismisses. Her whole life has been about a series of bad luck and unfortunate events; meeting Chuck's the best thing that's ever happened to her. "He can stay."
Sophie grumbles, "I don't even know why you made me a bridesmaid if you aren't going to listen to me," but she does disappear back into the bridal suite.
Sarah holds out her hand and he takes it gingerly, the pads of his fingers slick with sweat.
"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice breaking at the simple query.
Sarah's stomach twists into a knot and she nods, unable to put to words what she's thinking.
He's finally figured out he's making a mistake.
The thought ought to fill her with relief, but it doesn't.
They enter her dressing room inside the bridal suite and Sophie shoots them both an annoyed look. "I'm not fixing your make-up again!" she warns after them. Sarah shuts the door; shuts her out.
"Sarah." He clasps her hands in both of his, and they're literally a breath's distance from another.
This is it.
Her lips are trembling and she suddenly realizes how faint she feels. What a spectacle that would make; passing out on her own wedding day.
"Sarah, are you sure about this?"
Sarah balks. "What?" She understands what Chuck's just asked her; what she really means is why he would do this to her. Didn't he already know that she's a complete mess? Doesn't he have the sense to tell that she's teetering on the edge?
"I want you to be sure." He stares at her, all his hopes and dreams reflecting on the surface of those bright eyes. He's putting everything on the line for her, his heart on his sleeve, his soul laid bare—and worst of all; he's giving her the chance to take it all away from him.
"It's not too late," he says, as if reading her mind. "Even if we are at the end of the aisle and the minister asks us if we do, it's still not too late. If this isn't what you want, I don't want you to do it."
Sarah feels tears suddenly brim at the surface. He's always put her needs ahead of his own but it still comes as something unexpected.
People just don't think like Chuck; they use their heads not their hearts.
"Why? Are you having second thoughts?"
He shakes his head. "No." A pause. "Are you?"
She can't find it in her to be the first to admit something if he won't.
She's perfected the art of deception but they both know he's not the one holding them back.
"Chuck," she sighs, her voice quivering on the single syllable. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. But I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be your wife. Is it weird that I'm scared to want that?"
"Why would you be scared?"
Wasn't it obvious? "What if it doesn't work out for us?"
"Hey…what could go wrong?" Chuck gives her a goofy smile and Sarah's gone. There's no stopping her now; she's long since lost the ability to say no to anything when he looks at her like that.
Chuck hugs her close. Ellie and Sophie would both have a fit if they saw his chin resting atop her perfectly coiffed hair but she didn't care. She takes a deep breath, filling herself with his scent.
She didn't need any of this—the church, the dress, the rings, the paper; none of it. She just needed him. His secure embrace, his loving eyes, his easy smile—
"I'll understand if you don't..." Chuck says, his voice trailing off. He cups his palms against her face, his hands serving as a frame for her nervous expression. "It's okay..."
Sarah swallows. No, it wasn't.
Didn't he see? If she retreated now, she'll lose him forever.
The concept of time never seems as infinite as when she realizes what it truly means. A day without seeing Chuck made her heart sink like a lead weight but a month? a year?...never ever again?
Sarah shakes her head. "I'm sure, Chuck," she says. "I want to be with you." Today, tomorrow, the day after...forever and ever.
Chuck stares at her, his eyes growing wider and wider. His face explodes into an exuberant smile and he looks happier than the day she first agreed to his impromptu proposal.
Their lips crash together and even though they're about to make the promise to spend the rest of their days together, the urgency and fear that this will all end still hangs over them.
"I love you, Sarah," he says, and she doesn't doubt him, not even for a fraction of a second.
Sarah closes her eyes and holds him tight, wishing she could keep this moment with her forever. She doesn't care about the rings or the ceremony; all she wants is to feel this way for the rest of her life.
And if she didn't know better, she'd be sure she'd just gotten married right here in her dressing room.
Do you...a) forgive Sarah? b) hold a grudge against Sarah? c) not understand Sarah at all? d) want to leave a review for me?
