The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Thanks for all the support on this story. Still working on the other two. I appreciate all of the offers from people to help with Trapped Assassin, but I'll handle it in good time. Life's slowed down my writing but I'm getting back into it so it'll be back up soon, as well as this one and Spying in Chocolate. Enough about me though. Back to The Model Agent.
Summary: Sarah Walker's modeling career is in its budding stages when the CIA recruits her into their ranks at 16. 10 years later, she's balancing being a world famous supermodel and actress with spying for the CIA. Her existence is fraught with danger and she's constantly on the go, until she meets a disarmingly sincere man on the beach...and her life is changed forever.
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK. I am not making any money from this.
He felt her thumb and forefinger close around his ear and smoothly rub around the rim of it down to his earlobe. His entire body shivered. He didn't understand how that felt so intensely good, something so simple, just a light touch, and his whole body came to life.
He blinked his eyes open and looked into her face, a smile immediately stretching over his lips.
She was lying on her side, her front pressed close to his, their legs tangled under the covers, and her face was mere inches away from his own. That face. A face that would definitely knock Helen of Troy down a peg or two. Her blue eyes were so mesmerizing…and alert, he realized. Too alert for whatever hour it was, sometime in the very early morning he thought. But time meant nothing.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, making an oops face. "Were you trying to fall back asleep?"
Chuck shook his head. "Mmm. No."
Her fingers fell to his neck and she took a deep breath, turning her face into the pillow, her eyes drifting shut, a smile on her face. He let the comfortable silence exist between them, just watching her, taking her in.
They'd spent a long time tangled together on that couch the night before, neither of them wanting to stop long enough even to just get back to the bedroom where it would be easier and more comfortable.
And then late late at night, after he'd given her a t-shirt and boxers of his to wear so that she'd be more comfortable and warmer than just wearing his oversized robe, he'd gotten the feeling that she was trying to decide whether to call it a night or not. A tension in the air, an unsure look on her face as she looked at him across the table, her empty wine glass in front of her.
And then she announced she should "probably get back". He'd agreed, said he understood.
Before she could find her phone and call her driver, gathering up her dress that she'd worn when she arrived to put it on, he'd stopped her with a gentle hand around hers, and he'd asked her if she wanted to stay.
He hadn't been able to read the look on her face as she widened her eyes and looked up at him, and then there was some shyness there, and she'd nodded oh so slowly.
They'd fallen back into bed again, but hadn't done more than heavy making out before falling asleep.
Then at some point early in the morning, Chuck had found himself waking up to the feeling of warm fingers making soft patterns against his hipbone under the waistband of his boxers, her body curled around him, spooning him, and he'd turned over to face her, his body fully awake and ready.
He wasn't sure what any of this was, the constant pull between them, the way they kept springing together, the endless passion and intimacy. And sure, there was electricity in the air those nights they randomly ended up at the same events, wandering off together to talk. The magnetism had been there even out on the beach that fateful day. But he really hadn't been prepared for this. Whatever this was. Was it a beginning? God, he wanted it to be a beginning so bad. But he also didn't want to think too hard about it, or anything else for that matter.
So he purposely didn't look at the clock on the nightstand and he lost himself in her as the sky outside of the window went from pitch black to a dark blue, and started lightening a little more. The morning seemed like it'd be overcast, as the room was still shrouded in darkness now.
Neither of them had gone back to sleep since they woke up hungry for more, and they hadn't stopped until their desire was at least somewhat sated.
Now she was here, back in his shirt and boxers, the sheets having fallen to their hips. He didn't quite know how he wasn't more tired than this. He refused to acknowledge time, but if he did, he'd assume he got no more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep at the most.
And he had an ache deep, deep inside of him, but it wasn't in his limbs he'd been using pretty frequently over the last 15 hours. It was an ache in his soul to stay right here in this bed, in this moment, with her, for as long as he possibly could.
It just felt so good, being with her. In her presence. He felt like an unseen weight was lifted off of him. Like whatever mess existed in his chest had been cleared out. He felt refreshed, new, different.
"Are you tired?" she asked, her voice quiet even as it crackled in that delicious early morning way.
"Nnnnnope." She giggled. "Are you?" She shook her head no. "Honestly I'm stuffed to the gills with adrenaline."
"To the gills?" she asked, her chest close enough to his that he felt it bounce against him as she laughed.
"Yep. That's right. I made a fish reference. Glub glub, Ms Walker."
That had the desired response and she laughed so hard she had to roll onto her back, covering her forehead with her hand. Once her laughter subsided enough for her to speak, she turned wet with mirth eyes to him while wiping at her cheeks, and said, "I can't believe I'm this attracted to a man who says glub glub with a serious face."
"Oh, thanks!" he chuckled, shaking his head. "Geez… Sorry my marine vocab is so offensive to you."
She giggled and turned onto her side again, folding her arm under her head and just peering at him, her blue eyes shining in the low light that was very slowly starting to sneak into his bedroom. "Nothing about marine anything is offensive to me, I'll have you know."
"Oh?" He tilted his head in curiosity as best he could in this position. "Fan of the ocean?"
She got quiet then, and her hand landed on his bare chest, playing with the hair between his pecks. "Maybe I am."
"Well, I did see you riding those waves like a bodacious female version of Poseidon that day at the beach," he said, making her laugh again, "dominating the wrath of the sea like a full-on badass."
"Well, she paid me back by putting you in my path and nearly making me a murderer."
"You brought it up this time! It wasn't me for once!" he yelled and she cracked up, shoving at his chest even as he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from escaping.
"Shut up!" she laughed, and they wrestled for a few moments, before they settled onto their sides again, only this time much closer, he noticed.
He slid his hand over her hip, sneaking his fingers under his shirt she was wearing and feeling her intoxicatingly smooth skin just above her hipbone.
She sighed and watched him closely. He let her, feasting on her goddess-given natural beauty, even at this hour of the morning, when he knew he probably looked a complete mess.
And then she finally spoke up.
"Can I tell you something, Chuck?" She looked shy again.
"Of course you can."
Sarah smiled mutely. She sighed. And she continued. "Before all of this, the modeling agency and getting discovered, like when I was really little, I wanted to be a marine biologist. Not that I really knew it was called that. We're talking REALLY little."
Chuck grinned slowly, his chest filling with light. "Did you really?"
"Yeah. Kinda dorky, I know."
"It's cool as hell is what it is. I can totally see it too. At the helm of a boat, going out to some coral reef somewhere between Hawaii and Australia to collect samples. Or…oohhhhh I can absolutely see you piloting one of those deep sea rovers that buzz around in the scary trenches with the little flashlight and cameras."
She giggled, shaking her head. "You're good with the imagery."
"Thank you. I've seen a lot of movies."
"Oh? But apparently not mine."
"Ooohhhhhhh daaaaammmnnnnnn," he groaned and she cackled, following him as he rolled onto his back and covered his face with both hands. She draped half of her body over his, still laughing. "You got me. Wow. Yep. Listen, I'm not proud of that," he said, uncovering his face and wincing.
"I'm just teasing you. I like that you haven't seen my work. Actually, I really like it. Not that I'm ashamed of the Lucy Stone series, or the Tabitha Rook series." Chuck slotted those titles into his brain. They'd made a pact about not googling one another, and he was going to take that seriously, but he still wanted to know about these movies she was in. "It isn't like I don't want you to see them because I'm embarrassed or anything. I worked hard on those films, a lot of us did, and women-led, women-helmed action blockbusters are…" She cleared her throat then, blushing. "That's beside the point. I-I just…dated a guy once who thought he was dating Lucy Stone instead of Sarah Walker, and it didn't take him long to realize I'm nothing like her. Suffice to say, that was that."
"Do people just not understand the concept of acting, or what?"
She giggled. "You'd be surprised how many people don't."
"Well you don't have to worry about that with me because I haven't met Lucy Stone or Tabitha…"
"Rook," she supplied.
"Rook. I've met Sarah Walker though and she is…" He smiled slowly, a dreamy look on his face. "Pretty great."
She gave him a closed mouth smile and shrugged. "Do you always say the right thing exactly when a girl needs to hear it?"
"I…am not sure if I do or not." She laughed. "But if I just did that, I'm glad."
"You did." Sarah bit her lip. "Truth be told, Chuck, I didn't really see myself piloting a deep sea rover or whatever. I wanted to study sharks. I think sharks must be the coolest creatures ever. Cooler than anything."
"Nooooooo! You're a shark enthusiast?" He didn't know why that was the most awesome thing ever, but it was.
"I am." And then she winked, biting her lip. "And that, Nerd Company Guy, is something you will not find if you type Sarah Walker in the google search bar. Not anywhere."
He laughed at Nerd Company Guy, but then he stopped, realizing what she'd just said. "Wait, really? I wouldn't find that anywhere?"
"Nope. That isn't something I've told…" She made a thoughtful face, and then she frowned a little, as if she was realizing something herself. "Anyone."
"Not even that you love sharks?"
"Well, maybe my grandma knew. And my parents probably knew at some point that I liked reading about sharks and watching Shark Week and the TV shows about the ocean wildlife blah blah, but I doubt my parents would even remember that about me at this point, and that's if they'd even paid attention then," she said wryly, rolling her eyes.
He got a feeling there was tension there, with Sarah and her parents. Like they weren't as close as one might expect. As if they didn't see eye to eye, or they didn't have the same priorities, maybe. This was the second time he'd gotten that feeling from her.
Maybe they wouldn't remember, but he was going to. He was slotting it away.
"Okay, so we'll toss out the deep sea rover, even though those things are super awesome, and instead we'll put you in a shark cage. With hammerheads swirling around you, looking at you out of the sides of their heads like this." He shifted his body and peered at her off to the side, making her laugh again and lean in to kiss his cheekbone nearest her.
"You're determined to be the cutest guy on the planet, I can tell."
"It has less to do with determination and more that I am not great at filtering myself in NORMAL times, but especially not in the early hours of the morning when I'm sleep deprived. You get what you see, unfortunately," he drawled, smiling self-deprecatingly.
"There's nothing unfortunate about it." And then she pushed herself up onto her elbow and smiled hard down at him, putting her opposite hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "I happen to like what I see."
Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Really? I should tell my sister's boyfriend that those workouts he forces me to participate in are doing their job."
Sarah laughed again, burying herself in his chest, her arms wrapping around him. She lifted her leg and swung that over him too, just clinging to him.
He couldn't help noticing just how perfectly their bodies fit together. It was weird to think, but it felt like when you're searching for that one freaking piece of the puzzle that you know will be the key to finding a slew of other pieces if you could just find it, and then when you do find it and it just slots so perfectly in, and everything else follows, an avalanche of pieces falling into place.
That was how this felt, being in her arms.
He was most likely being intense thinking like that, but he wasn't going to say it out loud or anything.
Instead he just basked in her existence, and the fact that out of all of the places in the world she could be, Sarah Walker was here with him.
+ —
She didn't know when, but she'd fallen asleep again at some point early in the morning, before the sun had even thought about cresting the NYC horizon, wherever it was behind all these tall buildings.
And she had no idea what time it was when she blinked her eyes open, smothering a yawn into her palm and rolling onto her back, pushing her hands through her hair.
She glanced to the side and saw he had fallen asleep too, and was still sleeping, on his stomach, with one hand bridging the space between them, as if he was reaching for her. Sarah blushed at the implication, knowing she was probably just overthinking it. He probably always slept like this, with his hand outstretched. It was just that she happened to be here this time.
It was overcast outside but the light was still flooding the bedroom in a way it hadn't been when she'd first awoken earlier. Her face had been pressed against his back, her arm slung over his body, that fist curled up against his chest, her leg trapped between both of his.
She hadn't seen his face, or any part of him really in the bad lighting, and anyway, the moment he woke up and turned over to look at her, they'd snapped together like a rubber band being stretched and let go. And she didn't think she'd stopped devouring him for hours.
But what was time anyways?
She didn't get a chance to see Chuck sleeping earlier, so she took him in now. In the mid morning light streaming in even though there were clouds out there. He looked younger, so disheveled…and she spotted a few faded but still there red marks on his back and sides from where she'd scratched him while they had sex.
She hadn't realized she'd done that. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, turning to look up at the ceiling and just barely resisting an adrenalized giggle.
She didn't want to wake him up.
But she also knew that at some point, they'd both have to wake up and come to terms with the fact that she couldn't just stay here for days on end. She had a place of her own. And no clothes here besides what she'd shown up in the afternoon before.
Sarah pushed that out of her head, though, and oh so carefully slid out of the comfortable bed, stretching her arms up and stifling the moan of satisfaction at the way things popped in her shoulders and back. God, she felt good. Her limbs were loose and relaxed. She didn't even feel all that tired despite the lack of sleep.
Sneaking through the room, she pushed open the door to the bathroom she'd used to shower the night before and stepped inside, carefully shutting the door behind her. After she relieved herself and washed her hands, she did a bad thing. She rummaged through his stuff for toothpaste, rubbed it all over her teeth, and swished with cold water, doing the best she could without an actual toothbrush. She tried to put it all back the way she found it, doing her best not to snoop, the words he'd said to her the night before still sitting lightly in her chest.
He'd actively chosen to fight the urge to look her up, knowing she was famous, that she was a celebrity, that he could find whatever he wanted on her private life. He hadn't done that. And his reason for it, wanting to get to know her the way he'd have to if she was, what'd he say, an accountant? It had her feeling weak in the knees.
She still felt weak in the knees just thinking about it. Granted, the knee weakness might also stem from how much she'd used them in the last 12 plus hours.
Sarah smiled wickedly and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked a fright. Or at least her hair did. And while, yes, her makeup was a little smudged around the eyes especially, as she took a closer look at herself, propping her palms on the counter and leaning in, she saw a Sarah Walker she hadn't seen in so long she couldn't even remember when.
She didn't have to wear a mask of ease and happiness, because that was what she was genuinely feeling as she stood there looking into the mirror. She wasn't playing for cameras, or working her machinations to get information for the CIA. She just felt good. She felt like her worries were far away. Like they couldn't touch her here.
It was more than just that she'd had really amazing sex and felt supremely sated. She wanted to believe it was just that, because that wasn't quite as scary as the fact that something had happened to her yesterday and last night, this morning as well. A switch had gone off. The connection she'd formed with this guy was deeper than the physical, as good as the physical was.
She'd been unbridled in giving herself to him, and not just in her body. Without realizing it, she'd given him more than that. She wasn't sure exactly at what moment, but it happened.
Part of her was unnerved by it. Her lifestyle didn't leave much room for this. Things just happened to line up so perfectly here in NYC, both of them having extra time in the city after that event the other night. But this wasn't the norm. It couldn't be.
And there was also the pull, the way she wanted to tell him things, while she'd always found it so easy to keep things from everyone. Lying, omitting things, keeping secrets was a piece of cake. But she didn't want to do that with this guy.
That was confusing and unsettling.
Sarah couldn't ignore that.
But she also felt better than she had in over a decade.
She tried to comb her fingers through her hair to get some of the tangles out, and she kept her eyes on her face in the mirror as she did so. There was a sparkle in her eyes, her lips turning up in a smile, not the celebrity smile she flashed at big carpet events, and not the smile she flashed at people once she stepped off the runway and did her usual networking, both for her own career, and for the CIA. This was a real smile that felt like it had originated deep inside of her.
Was she glowing? She felt like she was glowing.
Maybe it was just relief. Carina always teased her about needing to get laid because she was too tense and always on edge. Sometimes it was funny, and other times it hit her on the wrong day and it was annoying. But maybe her best friend was right. Maybe getting laid was something she'd absolutely needed. And she did feel relief. That had been more than enough sex to release whatever amount of tension had existed in her before they'd fallen into bed yesterday afternoon after the rooftop garden adventure.
Now here she stood, relieved and happy and momentarily without a care in the world, wearing his shirt and his boxers, her hair a mess, dark rings around her eyes from yesterday's makeup.
She spent a few moments with a damp tissue trying to at least touch that up, and when she felt blissfully human and actually looked the part again, she walked out of the bedroom, flicking off the light behind her.
Chuck was facing her, still on his stomach, only his eyes were open this time, and his mouth stretched into a smile. "Hi."
Sarah smiled back, ruffling her hair a bit. "Good morning. Again." She shrugged her shoulders adorably.
He let out a cute giggle. "Is it still morning?" Pushing himself up with his palms planted firmly on the mattress, he arched his back and stretched like a cat. It was kind of sexy and she knew she'd developed a problem in the last 24 hours. "I have no idea what time it is and I don't even fucking care."
How resolute he was in the way he said it made her grin hard. "Me neither."
"Does that mean we're doing another pact? No looking at the clocks?"
"Or our phones?" she added, arching one eyebrow.
"Deal." He sat on the bed properly and stretched out a hand towards her for her to shake. She closed the rest of the distance and took it, giving it a hearty shake.
But before she could pull away, he gave her a yank. She squeaked in surprise, laughing as she landed on the bed with him, and he rolled her over onto her back, leaning over her with a smile.
"Hungry?" he asked. "More importantly, would you like some coffee?"
She moaned happily. "God yes."
"I've got just the place to get coffee. They make it whichever way you like, even if you're a total weirdo about it," he said, leaping out of the bed, stretching much like she had a few minutes earlier, and going to his suitcase to tug a shirt out. She just watched him quietly, a little uncomfortable as he put the shirt on and ruffled his curls, making them messier than they already were. "They've got a coffee drink with Ethiopian beans, free trade, and wow, it just knocks me on my ass it's so good. The menu's great. You can smell the coffee down the street. I discovered it yesterday, literally just two blocks down."
Sarah smiled at him, and then she bit her lip, knowing what she had to say but not liking it one bit. "That sounds delicious, especially the Ethiopian blend. That part, it sounds really great. I just, um, can't."
He furrowed his brow, looking confused as he stood there in the middle of the bedroom, his long arms dangling on either side of his slim hips. "You can't? Oh. You, um, you have to go huh?" He looked disappointed, and he was so sweet the way he tried to hide it and failed.
"No, it's not that. I don't have to—I mean, I really don't want to go yet. I just mean that I can't go to the coffee shop with you. I can't be seen, especially not with you." She winced, inwardly rolling her eyes at herself at his perplexed look. She hoped she hadn't just hurt him. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. It isn't that I don't want people seeing me with you, I-I don't want to be seen with anybody. I can't be seen with anybody. For the same reason I asked if we could make our date a…erm, not so public…situation. Am I making any sense or do I just sound like a total jerk? Shit." She flopped back against the pillows and pushed her hands through her hair in frustration.
"No, no! No you don't. You don't sound like a jerk at all!" He thrust his hand out reassuringly and closed the distance, hopping a little bit as he landed hard on the mattress, bouncing. It was so boyish and adorable she couldn't stop the smile or the giggle. "I get it. I totally forgot." He thunked himself on the forehead with his palm. "Sorry."
"Please don't apologize. And don't…" She sighed. "I don't expect you to know the ins and outs of my existence and the things I can and can't do, you know, because people out there will recognize me. I can typically navigate stuff like getting groceries or coffee or food or going into bookstores, and I can disguise myself well enough that I'm only recognized sometimes. And it isn't that big of a deal if they see me by myself. I take a few photos or wave or whatever, and then I can usually escape quickly enough. But it's too risky for me to be seen with someone else."
Chuck nodded. "Of course. Absolutely of course."
Sarah interrupted the now slightly awkward silence. "I wish I could, though. It sounds really nice, just putting my dress back on and walking down the sidewalk with you out in the open, not caring who sees. Buying coffee, maybe even sitting at the coffee shop and people watching and enjoying drinking it in public." She sighed a bit wistfully. "I just can't. I'm sorry. That's kind of just my life."
And she needed him to know that it would continue to be her life, that this was what it would look like if this apparent connection between them continued past this delicious NYC interlude.
He smiled and put his hand on her thigh, the nearest part of her to him, squeezing. "Well, you don't have to apologize, first of all. Secondly, what do you like in your Ethiopian coffee?"
Sarah Walker was struck silent for a few long seconds, and then she slowly smiled at him, pushing herself to sit up and just looking at him. She liked him so much she didn't even know what to do with herself suddenly.
"Um…" She bit her lip. "I don't know. I guess if they have some sort of chocolate element you can add to it, that sounds amazing right now."
"Got it. Wait!" He looked around the room then. "Where are my pants?"
She laughed. "Your pants? Can't you put another pair on?"
"Oh I can, I just—My phone was in them."
"Oh." She cracked up, then moved to get out of the bed to help him, but he grabbed her by her shoulders and made her stay in bed. "Wha—?"
"No, stay. Stay there. I'll find 'em. You just relax and…" He found them on the other side of the room then, doing a cute little snapping thing with his fingers. "Aha! Jesus, you really threw these." She giggled as he picked them up and rifled through the pocket for his phone. And when he found what he was looking for, he dropped them back onto the floor in a heap. She smirked at that.
"What can I say? When I want something, I want something," she said, her voice dripping with innuendo.
His jaw fell open and he made a quiet "Hnnnng" sound that made her laugh.
Chuck walked back over and sat next to her, showing her his phone. "Look at this." He scrolled through email alerts and text message alerts. There must have been 100 or more of them. "Crazy, right?"
"Jesus, was that just since last night?"
"I didn't touch my phone since you got here, so technically, like, 4ish yesterday." And then he made a gesture with his finger on the screen and they disappeared. "Voila. Like they never existed."
"Chuck… If that's important stuff for your company, or your family or something…"
"No, no, it's good." He shook his head. "Not gonna lie, I felt a spike of stress for a second, but it's gone now. I've moved past it. I'm not—I refuse to do that today. I refuse. I can't. I can't do that today. It feels stupid."
Sarah laughed in disbelief. "Chuck, that's your whole freaking corporation."
"No, I know. I know that. But if I say fuck it for a day or two, it won't fall apart. That's why I hired really good people. They've got this." He let out a huff and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm just—My sister says I'm a workaholic and she's right. If you weren't here, I would answer every single one of these right now. Actually I would've answered them as they came in. I do not know how to step away and I've been sort of getting kind of, um…"
"Worked to death?" she asked, and when he nodded expressively, she groaned and tilted her head back. "Oh my God I relate to that so much."
He smiled at her. And then he sighed and unlocked his phone. "I think I need to just take a break. And you've really helped me do that," he said, a dreamy look on his face. "So thank you."
"You're welcome," she said happily. And she felt more connected to him than she had before somehow. "You know you've really pulled me out of my own mess of…well, let's just leave it at mess…too."
"How do you feel about extending this little break if you will just a bit longer?"
Sarah felt everything in her light up as she nodded, feeling a little shy suddenly. "Uh, yeah. That sounds good."
"Perfect. Do you like breakfast burritos?"
She laughed, not expecting that question at all. "Yeah, I do."
"They've got killer ones at the café. I'll get us some. Sausage, bacon, or no meat?"
"Bacon obviously," she snarked.
He cracked up as he grabbed a clean pair of jeans and stepped into them. "Honestly, every second you somehow manage to get better and better. Always bacon."
"Always. Come on."
He grabbed keys and shoved them and his phone into his pants, then looked around the room with narrowed eyes. "Wallet…"
"Is that it?" she asked, pointing at the dresser across the room.
"Ah! Good eye! Thank you!"
"You're welcome," she giggled, watching him scamper over and shove it in his back pocket.
He stepped into a pair of sneakers and tied them quick, before grabbing a sweatshirt and shrugging it on. Apparently he simply didn't care about the way his hair was still sticking up every which way. She felt a spike of envy over it.
And then he went for the door before he stopped and turned to look at her. She saw the acute yearning in his face, coupled with an unsureness, and she just knew he was trying to decide if he should go to her and kiss her before he left the way he wanted to.
He made a frustrated sound and left her behind instead, and she beamed to herself and flopped back to the pillows, biting back the giddy laugh until she heard the door to the condo shut behind him.
+ —
"So are you just going to keep plying me with amazing food then?" she asked after swallowing the second bite of her burrito.
"Yes. What I'm plying you for remains to be decided, though."
She raised her eyebrows at him, peering at him from over her burrito. "Is that so? Are there different options you're deciding between?"
"Um."
Sarah laughed. "I see you didn't think that part through. That's okay, Chuck. You can't win 'em all."
This time he laughed, taking a massive bite out of his burrito. And speaking of massive, these were the biggest egg burritos she'd ever met in her life. Well, second biggest. There was a Mexican market near her house in Beverly Hills with bigger ones.
"So um, when do you think you'll be heading back to LA then?" he asked, picking up his coffee and taking a sip to wash his burrito down.
She took a moment to answer, sipping her own drink. He was right about the coffee. He'd gotten her some type of hot mocha type of coffee drink and it tasted like absolute Heaven. "Probably Wednesday morning. It depends on when my agent decides he's done with this little 'break' of mine," she said, throwing the bunny ears as best she could around her burrito and coffee cup.
"Oh wow you have an agent."
She giggled, giving him a look. "Yeah of course I do. That's the business. I'd have ended up in the dumpster of broken modeling careers by now if it weren't for that guy."
"Oh duh. Of course." He frowned. "I mean, not of course to the last thing you said. Just to…you having an agent. Of course you have an agent. But I don't know that your career would be over without said agent. I haven't seen your acting…stuff. Or actually the modeling, but I have seen you and you're…easily the most beautiful…I'm shutting up."
Laughing at him, she set her both her coffee and burrito down and reached over to squeeze his arm. "You don't have to spiral every time you think you've said something wrong, Chuck, because so far you've yet to offend me, and even if you did, I've got tougher skin than you'd think."
The kind of skin that bullets bounced off of, she neglected to say.
He nodded, smiling warmly at her. "I'll do my best."
"Good."
"So Wednesday, huh?" He nibbled on his lip thoughtfully.
"Why? When you heading back to the grind?"
"Monday." That was kind of a bummer, she realized. She didn't know why it made that much of a difference. "Yeah. I gotta go back Monday. I'll be hopping on a nighttime flight, getting back to LA in the early morning, catch a few hours of sleep, and then up and at 'em for a meeting Tuesday."
"Oh my God, that's torture. Why do you do that to yourself?"
"I…need this extra time. Like I said, I was…" He sighed. "Honestly, I was at my wit's end. Things just coming to a head all at once and I think, you know, my heads and managers kind of all came together for this sort of intervention type situation." She raised her eyebrows. "I know. It was kind of…well, very unexpected." He chuckled, shaking his head. "They told me I needed to step back and take some time for myself because I was going to snap and they didn't want to catch the brunt of it."
"They sound like good people."
"They're jerks," he teased, and he grinned with his teeth showing. "But I love 'em. And they were right which is why I'm here. Just…don't tell them I was at that benefit, hm? I'll be in trouble."
She laughed. "Wow. Sneaking in something for work when you're supposed to be on vacation? You do have a problem."
Chuck laughed with her. "They actually did know about the benefit and they told me to take extra time around it to just chill. Be alone. Not think about NTI. Which is impossible. But…Well, I guess it isn't entirely impossible, considering I've really not thought about NTI at all in the last 20 hours."
Sarah smiled at him, that lovely sensation back in her chest. "I'm glad I could do that for you."
"Oh, you did so much more than just that." His chuckle stopped dead when she raised her eyebrows and he cleared his throat. "I-I mean…"
Snorting, she squeezed his wrist this time. "You're so cute."
They finished their burritos and took their time with the coffee, the conversation light.
Chuck eventually grabbed their trash and took it down to the dumpsters in the underground garage beneath the building, and Sarah found herself wondering if she should go finally. It was nearing noon and she was still wearing his clothes, her dress and underwear draped over one of the chairs in his room, her heels on their sides on the seat of the same chair.
She could go and change while he was down there, and that would in a sense force her to have to leave. No more waffling about whether or not to go, only to drag her feet and stay for another however many hours.
This was getting ridiculous.
And at the same time, it just felt so good being here with him, cut off from all of the modeling bullshit and the CIA bullshit.
She took too long deciding though, and Chuck eventually came back in, smiling when he saw her standing at the window and peering out at the cityscape.
"Good view, huh?" he asked as he shut and locked the door behind him. He ruffled his curls and walked over to join her, stepping out of the flip flops he tossed on his feet to take the trash out.
"It's beautiful. New York is a really gorgeous place."
"Mhm. I've thought about maybe getting a place here. In the city. Just so that I don't have to keep renting some condo for a week or three days, or staying in some hotel or something. I'd have my own space that's mine and it's always just…here for me when I need it. But I just…" He shrugged and sidled up next to her, peering out through the glass with her. "I don't think I'd come here enough to warrant it, you know? I'd have to split my time between here and LA and I don't want to. I just love my home too much. I love LA too much. My sister, you know? My family? My friends?"
She smiled at him and crossed her arms, leaning back against the window with her shoulder. "You know a lot of people with your kind of financial stability tend to just buy places wherever they can just for the clout. And here you are being sensible."
"What can I say? Money hasn't made me less sensible, I guess."
"It's impressive."
"Naaah, not really." He shook his head. "I had to build my career brick by brick, you know? Or whatever the phrase is." He rolled his eyes at himself. "I try to make sure I never have what it was like before NTI was successful too far from my mind."
"And yet still more impressive. Can you slow down there, pal? It's getting so a girl can't even keep up."
He laughed, blushing. "Ooookay, I get it."
"What?" she asked, chuckling, wrapping her hand around his bicep.
"I'm being annoyingly modest, I can feel it."
"You aren't!" she said quickly, squeezing his arm. "I'm not annoyed. You're a good man. I'm genuinely impressed. I'm not teasing you. I'm being sincere." She tugged on his shirt. "If there were more Chuck Bartowskis in more industries than just the tech industry, the world would be a better place."
"Well, if there were more Chuck Bartowskis in more industries than just the tech industry, there'd be a whole lot more nerds around."
She giggled. "Stop. You're admirable, Chuck. I've heard stories about you. No googling necessary," she insisted, holding up two fingers. "Scout's honor, I didn't google. I just heard the way people talk about you at those galas. You're not just a good guy. You're a fantastic CEO, and boss."
"You heard all that?"
"I did. Yes."
"Whoa. I didn't realize that many people talk about me."
"It's funny, I'd never heard about you before and then all of a sudden I run you over with my surfboard and you're on everyone's lips."
Chuck grinned at her and chuckled, looking embarrassed. "I don't really know what to say to that."
Sarah took his hand then and held it, just smiling at him. She had so much going on in her life, so much she had to be grateful for, but also a lot of things she couldn't talk about, difficult things, things that weighed heavily on her. And she wanted to share all of it with this guy who apparently had an entire tech empire at the tips of his fingers.
"Hey."
"Hey what?"
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
Sarah ducked her head, blushing a little. "Nothing important." She sighed then, knowing she had to at least try to broach the topic. "You know. I can't wear your clothes forever, Chuck. I have to get back to where I'm staying at some point."
He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip, looking pained, but then he grinned and nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I know. It's okay. I knew that was coming. Eventually."
"I don't really want to, for what it's worth." She tugged on his hand. "I just want to be able to shower and wear, like, clothes again. That belong to me. As comfortable as this has been." She tugged on the boxers he let her borrow.
"I understand." He looked almost shy then. "Can I take you home?"
God, she melted. He was adorable. "You have no idea how much I wish that was possible. But…"
"I know, I know. Gotta do things the clandestine way."
"Exactly." She raised her eyebrows and sighed again.
"Where you staying?"
"The London on Fifth Avenue," she said easily, trusting him with that information by now.
"Oh! Cool. Nice place. What room?"
"Executive suite, 25th floor. Why?" she asked, giving him a teasingly dubious look.
He pursed his lips. "No reason."
"Mmhmmmm, sure. I'm going to go get my dress back on." She giggled, stepping away from him, but squeezing his hand one more time before pulling back and heading into his bedroom.
They'd had a lot of sex in the last 20 hours or so, a little bit of sleeping, a lot of food, but she'd been naked in front of him, fully naked, his lips gracing most of her body…and still she stepped into the bathroom to change just in case he came into his room while she was changing.
She didn't know why. She'd done nude photoshoots with tastefully placed products she was promoting before.
But she changed fast, away from where he could see her, and she emerged to find him sitting on the end of the unmade bed, sheets practically on the floor. That made her almost blush as she remembered how they'd gotten there.
Chuck was pulling his socks on, stepping into sneakers and tying them quickly. "I just want to walk you down to make sure you aren't spotted," he said when he saw her eyeing him.
"So instead they see me with you?" she asked, an amused look on her face.
He laughed. "That's a good point, but I have a plan."
"Do you?"
He stood up and went over to his suitcase, rifling through it and then pulling out a dark blue zip up hoodie. "Doesn't match your dress super well, but that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things."
Chuck walked up to her and helped her put it on, stepping back to survey her with a critical eye, pinching his chin, as she zipped it up and giggled. "You look gorgeous like this. Truly. But the finishing touch…" He stepped close again and flipped the hood up over her head. It was so large that it covered her whole forehead.
"See? Look at that. Perfect."
Sarah laughed. "I can't take your sweatshirt, you've already been letting me wear your clothes this whole time." Speaking of which, she went into the bathroom to grab the shirt and boxers she'd been wearing and brought it up to him, handing it to him. He unceremoniously and distractedly dropped them on the end of the bed.
"Well, you need something to cover you up a bit more in case anyone spots you. And I trust you'll find a way to get it back to me sooner or later."
He smiled slowly and she felt warmth go through her chest. She knew he was genuinely trying to help, giving her something of a disguise. This sweatshirt would hide her figure, her hair, and a lot of her face. But she also wondered if this wasn't his subtle way to make sure he saw her again.
Chuck grabbed her heels and gave them to her as she sat on the bed to slip them on. "I feel silly in these heels and this giant freaking sweatshirt," she giggled, standing up and looking down.
"Well it's only for a minute."
She winced. "Longer than a minute. I never called my driver."
Chuck puffed his cheeks out and lifted a finger. "Oh. That's important."
They laughed together and they walked down the hallway to where she'd left her purse. She grabbed her phone, turned it on, and called Casey.
He answered with his mouth full. "What."
"What are you eating?" she asked.
"Meat lover's pizza. What's it to you?"
"I need a ride."
"Oh really? Finally tired of the bachelor's pad, huh?"
"Stop. Can you meet me downstairs soon? At that side entrance again?"
"Ugh. Fine. Half hour. I'm enjoying my pizza."
"Okay. See you then."
He just grunted and hung up.
Sarah turned to look at Chuck and shrugged. "It'll take him 30 minutes after all."
"Oh. Good. That gives me a bit of time."
"A bit of time for w—"
He closed the distance and grabbed her by her waist, his lips crashing onto hers. And they stayed with her pinned up against the door like that, their lips battling for control, hands wandering, for most of the time it took Casey to get to the building and call her phone to let her know he was there.
+ —
Chuck Bartowski spent the rest of that day, and into the night, telling himself to chill the hell out. Out loud.
He wanted to text her. He wanted to call her. He wanted to go to that hotel, to that 25th floor executive suite, and see her smile again, hear her laugh.
The nerd absolutely knew he was being a lot. Again. Ellie was right when she'd warned him back in his college days that he went a little overboard sometimes when he really liked someone. That he got lost and couldn't see the whole picture, that he got blinders on.
She was so right.
And he wanted to see Sarah Walker again so badly anyways.
As toe curlingly good as the sex had been, earth shaking honestly, it wasn't just physical. Those 20 hours or so they'd spent together had made his insides feel like they were singing and dancing.
And at the same time, he'd felt so comfortable around her, like he could share anything with her and not worry about judgment. He was leaving NYC in 40 something hours, and he wasn't sure if he could go that long without seeing her again. Especially knowing that they were each just sitting in her suite and his condo, both of them having needed this break from their respective busy lives. And he'd be tortured by the fact that they could be doing the same thing but together.
He was driving himself nuts.
He finally fell asleep and got a full night's rest, he ate his breakfast, had his coffee, and wandered up to the garden again. It was overcast just like yesterday morning had been. And the cool air felt good biting against his skin.
This trip had been so good for him. He'd learned so much about himself. He'd risen to the occasion, having the confidence and the guts to ask a supermodel out on a date.
That wasn't fair, he reminded himself. Because she wasn't just a supermodel. Any guy with the billions of dollars he had in the bank and lived the same life of privilege that Chuck Bartowski lived would have a pretty easy time of it asking a woman beautiful enough to be a supermodel out on a date. Whether she'd accept or not was a different story, but the asking was a slam-dunk.
But Sarah Walker was a lot more than a supermodel. She was an actress too, sure. But mostly, she was incredibly cool, warm, sweet, funny, brilliant, a sincere philanthropist who was well-versed in the issues she cared the most about. He'd asked that woman out on a date. That was a big fucking deal.
And he knew it was.
And then she'd agreed to the date.
And it had taken about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, for them to fall into bed together, which had been when Chuck also discovered that Sarah Walker was also dynamite in the sheets.
On top of everything else.
He just didn't get how it was possible that he'd actually managed to have the courage to ask a woman like her out on a date in the first place, even if they had connected a handful of times.
If it were possible for him to go back in time and tell his 16 year old self that in 10 years time, he'd be one of the richest men on the planet, he'd probably think it was totally possible and seriously cool. If he went back and told his 16 year old self that he'd have the gall to ask one of the most famous supermodels in the world, the nicest, coolest, smartest, most beautiful supermodel in the world, out on a date, he'd laugh at himself until he choked.
And now he wanted to go see her again. It hadn't even been a full day.
Chuck sighed and looked at his watch. It was a little after 9 in the morning. Would she even be awake at this hour?
He took his phone out of his pocket and peered down at it. He had a text from Ellie. "How's Mr Ignore Everyone doing? Or are you going to pretend you didn't get this text either? ;P"
Rolling his eyes, he nearly called her. But then he stopped himself, because Ellie Bartowski was the most perceptive and observant person in his life. She picked out when things were bothering him, if he was happy, if he was pissed, when he was lying even. Being with Sarah had made him feel way too good and she'd hear it in his voice even if he tried to disguise it, and she'd end up asking him something that made her sound clairvoyant like "So what's her naaaame?"
So instead of calling her, he texted back.
Because his sister couldn't know about Sarah Walker. He just had this inherent, gut feeling that Sarah wouldn't appreciate it if she knew he'd told someone that they had hung out, that they'd slept together especially. The way she asked if they could have their date out of the public, the way she snuck up to his place so as not to be seen, and the way he'd gone to get their coffee and burritos by himself 24 hours ago because she couldn't be seen in public with him.
"Hey, El. Sorry. Turned off the phone to keep from doing work. You know how I am. Just watched TV, read some comics, ate food, and farted around."
"Ha, there has to be a better way to phrase that, brother," she texted back. He chuckled. She was typing again and he watched the response pop up. "How was that event? Good?"
"Great! A really important cause made a lot of money. Got to chat with Marco Novaro, now equipping his shops with NTI products."
"Go get em, Chuck! Gonna do some sightseeing?"
"Maybe!"
"Good! Love you! Late for my shift. Just wanted to say hello. See you in a few days?"
"Absolutely. Love you too sis."
Chuck put his phone back in his pocket and felt bad. He hadn't wanted to lie to her, and technically he hadn't. He'd just omitted things. He'd told her he watched TV, read comics, ate food, and farted around. He had done all those things at some point. But he'd also spent an extended amount of time laughing, talking, cuddling, and making love to an incredible woman.
Damn it, he could do this. He could keep from telling her about Sarah. And he could keep from telling Morgan about her. For now, he could. If it meant he got to see her again.
The executive suite on the 25th floor of the London on Fifth Avenue.
Biting his lip, Chuck left the rooftop garden, grinning to himself as he looked over at the place where they'd hidden for a few minutes to keep the gardener from spotting them until they could escape.
He'd probably think about this garden for the rest of his life.
Blinking at that intense thought, he hurried down to his condo and went inside, grabbing his laptop and finding a flower shop as close to Fifth Avenue as he could get.
Chuck was going out on a limb.
He just hoped the thing didn't snap under his weight.
+ —
She waited as patiently as she could, standing out on her balcony, tapping her foot as she held the phone to her ear.
Tyler came back finally with an "Oy! Right, we're a go for Friday. Casey available to drive you to the Barbs?"
"Tyler, can you please call things by their right name? The Barbs is the worst possible nickname for Santa Barbara. You make it sound like a prison."
"Well, Blondie, for a lot of people, it is like a prison."
"Okay," she groused, rolling her eyes. "So who am I meeting with?"
"Bernard Luhl himself. That was the whole point of this, wasn't it?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Damn, Ty. Okay. I'm sorry for doubting you."
"As you should be!" She sniffed in amusement and shook her head. "I'll send you deets when it's all worked out, ya?"
"Sounds good."
"Good girl. A'right, I'll see ya when you get home, gorgeous. Muah muah kisses an' all 'at."
He hung up on her then and she let her head roll back, before she also rolled her shoulders. Tyler Martin was such a pain in her ass but he was also an incredibly good agent. Most importantly, while he took care of her personal life as well as he did her career, he didn't actually dig into her personal life. He made her money and didn't ask questions. They'd built up a repertoire ever since she'd hired him when she was 18.
She remembered her mom had given her crap about that, too. Hiring an agent who was in his early 30s when she was 18, and knowing he'd been in a rock band in his 20s before hopping careers. Emma thought her daughter would be preyed upon, and instead, Tyler had catapulted her to the stars. Well, she'd done most of the work, but he was good at picking out which jobs to take, which roles to take, and which interviews to take.
And now she had an interview with one of VOGUE's best respected journalists about her activism in getting rid of sex trafficking in less than a week.
She pushed open the balcony door and stepped inside, sliding it shut and locking it, glad she was high up enough that nobody could see onto her small terrace. Trellises were erected on either side of the terrace with plants covering the thing, forming yet another barrier of privacy in case whoever stayed in the rooms with the other terraces came outside and spotted super famous Sarah Walker.
It was the perfect spot for her to get fresh air and sunlight (when it came out) without having to worry about fans or paparazzi or lookie loos, and she wished every hotel she stayed in had them.
Stretching her arms over her head, Sarah fluffed her hair a bit and walked into the kitchen area of the suite, pouring herself the last of the coffee she'd brewed. It wasn't exactly the Ethiopian blend with the mocha twist that she'd admittedly craved really badly right when she woke up this morning.
But she was too lazy to go all the way across the city to get that, and Casey would probably throw some kind of fit about having to wake up early to drive her, so this would do.
She'd been waiting for Luhl to look in her direction ever since he wrote up an exquisite many-page interview of the then up-and-coming period piece actress Rachel Lillith who was now an A-Lister. It wasn't exactly that Sarah wanted Bernard Luhl to catapult her into the A-List in Hollywood. With the types of movies she tended to gallivant around in, she'd probably never get to the level of a Kate Winslet for instance. And that wasn't her goal, anyway. She loved that feeling of walking down the runway, the flashes, the feeling of the cloth she wore swishing against her body. Even as an introvert, that was the one thing that made her feel like she could come out of her shell—cameras and clothes. Acting in commercials and TV and films was really fun and definitely a challenge, and she didn't want to stop doing that, but she wasn't angling towards being Oscar or Emmy bait.
She wanted stunts. She wanted green screen monsters coming after her. Being swung around on cables and dropped into pools of water. It was so much fun.
Really, she just wanted to see Bernard Luhl's genius on the page applied to her, her own story. Not the shit in the tabloids. Sure, she wouldn't give him too much personal detail. She was good at giving just enough to satisfy without revealing the truth. It could be the CIA training, but she suspected that it was really just her.
What sorts of questions would he ask, she wondered?
There was a knock on her door then. Furrowing her brow, wondering if Casey was showing up with some freaking urgent mission again, something only they could accomplish. She rolled her eyes and went to the door, peeking out into the hallway.
That was strange.
Nobody was there.
Had someone delivered a package maybe? But at this time of the morning? And who even knew she was here?
Sarah went back to her bed and slipped the knife she slept with under her pillow every night into her palm, holding tight to the hilt and taking a deep breath. She let her robe that covered the cami and panties she usually wore to sleep hang open. It was easier to whip it off and get it out of the way so that she could actually use her limbs if someone was here to try to bump her off.
She never knew for sure anymore if there wasn't somebody out there over the years who'd figured out what her role was with the CIA, that she was more than just a supermodel, sometimes actress.
Sarah unlocked the various locks on the suite's main door and cracked it open, adjusting her grip on the knife. Maybe she should've opted for her gun. Too late now.
But nobody kicked in the door, nobody pushed their shoulder into it to throw her off balance and attack.
There was nobody at all.
What…?
She dropped her gaze then, looking for a package, only to find a cardboard cup with steam coming up from the lid, and next to it a bouquet of roses. She blinked. What was this?
Taking a full step out into the hallway, she was careful to hide her knife behind her back as she looked first one way down the hall, then down in the other direction.
Nothing was there. Nobody was… Wait.
Sarah smirked when she saw it, and the smirk became a massive smile as she stooped to pick up the roses and what she knew now to be coffee. A certain coffee she'd been yearning for this morning.
She could smell it now. That strong coffee smell with the hint of cocoa…
Why did he run away and hide, though? What a freaking dork.
An adorable freaking dork.
Sarah went back into her suite and shut the door behind her, shaking her head as she looked down at what was in her hands. She realized belatedly that she also still had that knife in her hands and her eyes widened.
Oh no.
She had a feeling he hadn't just come to deliver coffee and roses, which meant he'd show up any moment now. Sarah hurriedly put the roses and coffee down on the nearest flat surface, then dashed into the bedroom.
The spy nearly put the knife back under the pillow where she'd gotten it, but then she thought maybe that wasn't … the best place. She bit her lip rather salaciously as she instead shoved it into her suitcase under her clothes. It was safe there.
That was when she heard the knock.
Beaming inside and out, she went to her mirror and took a deep breath, tying the silk robe shut even though it only went halfway down her thighs, fluffing her hair a bit, while simultaneously trying to smooth it down.
And then she dashed back out of the bedroom and lightened her step so that he didn't hear her practically stampeding for the door, taking another deep, calming breath… and opening the door.
And there he was, in all his sunlight-bringing splendor, in his black jeans and Terminator t-shirt. And his beat-up black Chuck Taylors high tops. Warmth and relief went through her in equal measure.
But he had a sheepish look on his face, then, especially when his brown eyes drifted down to take her in before hurrying back up to meet her blue eyes. "H-Hi. I know it's probably…ehhhh…"
She didn't care.
She reached out into the hallway, peeking each way just to make sure he wasn't seen, and she grabbed him by Arnold Schwarzenegger's face, hurriedly swinging him into her suite and slamming the door shut behind them, locking it just as quickly.
Before he could say anything else except for a surprised "Whoa", Sarah grabbed him by his face and yanked him in for a hard kiss. He froze for a solid ten seconds, and then he melted against her, his hands clutching onto her waist as he kissed her back.
Oh, there he was.
She smiled against his mouth.
But then he broke the kiss, panting even as he pressed his forehead to hers and nuzzled her nose. "Bu—I mean, I'm—I know it's nuts I jus—"
"Chuck."
"Hm?"
She did her best to suppress a beaming grin, instead feeling her lips slowly form a small smirk. "Shut up and kiss me."
Chuck looked surprised for a moment, and then he tilted his head with a slow grin, and he drove in to kiss her. She giggled against his lips and pushed him towards the bedroom, not even bothering to apologize when she accidentally backed him into the doorframe as he giggled and lifted her into his arms, stumbling the rest of the way to the bed.
Eternally grateful for the marine biology camp I went to when I was 10 because my parents didn't want to have to deal with depressed little 10 yo me for a whole summer. I learned so much there. But the number 1 thing I learned was that I never want to go INTO the ocean past like the first two rows of waves EVER. Because the ocean is terrifying. I'll leave that to an alternate universe version of Model Agent Sarah who went into marine biology instead of becoming a model. Because not for me! Nope!
Thanks for reviewing. :-)
SarahsSupplyCloset