Ch. 6

A/N: Another short chapter, but we promise that there are longer ones coming. We're a third of the way through the story, and these two kids aren't married yet. Who's writing this thing? When we left off (yesterday), Sarah had just had a talking to from Roan for trying to misappropriate an NSA satellite to try to capture Chuck/her Secret Admirer.

Sarah had taken to employing counter surveillance techniques when going to and from classes. Nothing had triggered any possibilities as far as any tail. Four days later, Sarah was starting to wonder if this was one of those rare occasions when her gut led her astray. For a few days, her mundane existence had been slightly more exciting.

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Across campus, Chuck dumped his messenger bag on his desk and logged into his laptop to search for Sarah. He questioned his sanity over being concerned about a woman who he'd never met…face-to-face….well, real life, face-to-face. He shook his head at himself. He was totally losing it.

It had been two days of travel and two days of non-stop meetings with the CIA at their headquarters. Acting Director Sommers had just decided to share with him and his father that the Intersect had been destroyed. It had felt like a gut punch to learn that it was his ex-roommate Bryce who had done it. He was still reeling from the follow-on revelation that Bryce had been killed during the strike. Chuck had joined his father for dinner at a diner with Roan Montgomery while before they left, but he was too wrapped up with the death of Bryce and the destruction of the Intersect to pay attention to the two and their conversations.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as his software once again took control of the security cameras and located the mysterious Agent Walker. Moments later he was watching her making her way across the quad. He was reaching for his custom burner phone when he spotted a wayward ultimate frisbee throw on a beeline towards the back of her head. He knew that there was no way he could warn her in time, and that she wouldn't be hurt, but he needed to protect her.

He was struck again, at how he didn't just feel like he should protect her, but needed to. As he was turning on the burner, begging it to hurry, mumbling, "come on, come on," he watched in awe as she somehow knew the frisbee was coming, spun to catch it and in one fluid motion, sent it zooming back to the game. He was glad that there was no one to see the broad smile he was sporting. He looked down at phone in his hand, and his smile grew wider.

}0{

As she walked, Sarah mentally berated herself, realizing belatedly, that she may have drawn some attention to herself with that frisbee stunt. The ultimate players were all still starring at her. Rather than acknowledge them, she focused on the ground while walking faster. Her stride floundered for a split second as her work phone buzzed. Part of her couldn't help but grin at the excitement she felt feeling that buzz. She ignored everything around her as she yanked out the phone to read the message.

*Nice save. You're good enough to go pro.*

She should have been on edge with the confirmation that the first message hadn't been a fluke. Instead, she felt the vestiges of the competitive fire that had compelled her to be the top cadet at The Farm. She didn't even realize the smirk that covered her features as she typed back, *Who is this?*

She realized she was holding her breath as she waited for a response. Even though she didn't expect any truth, or even necessarily a response. But she wanted one.

*Your secret admirer.*

What! No enemy (or friendly) agent would dare mock the Ice Queen like that. But no civilian would be able to cover his or her tracks this well. A smile came across her face unbidden. She had a mystery to solve. And Sarah Walker always came out on top.

What her secret admirer didn't know, is that she had her tech support breach Stanford security again, this time to create a back door that Sarah could use on her own. I've got you now. She checked the logs to see who had accessed the cameras that covered the quad during the "secret admirer " incident, which only listed two police officers who were on duty to monitor the system from the headquarters. Sarah nevertheless ran searches on them, despite being confident that they were not her prey.

}0{

Five days later Sarah still didn't have any solid leads, but was perversely pleased by that fact. He…or she…was good. Impressive, even. A worthy opponent. She was once again by the coffee kiosk at the Student Union when her admirer struck again.

*FYI- the barista just added heavy cream instead of half and half to your Americano.*

When challenged by Sarah, the kid behind the counter admitted to his mistake and prepared her a new coffee. She found herself wondering where her Secret Admirer had been all her life. If the SA could save her coffee, what would they have done when she was in the field, watching her back. She knew she probably should have been creeped out that someone was watching her. But she'd been with the CIA long enough to know to always expect to be under surveillance on a mission.

But then, this isn't a mission. Is it? Was it? In that moment, she trusted her gut. It didn't feel like a mission, it felt…more human, more pure. A mission could get messy physically, but those that were in support, or in the field, they kept things…antiseptic. This didn't feel like that at all. This felt…personal.

}0{

For the next three days she waited patiently. Agent Sarah Walker could outwait anyone, but this…this was akin to torture. It was then, that the SA struck again.

*'Dead drop' sounds maudlin. There's a live drop at your favorite library corral.*

She stared at her phone, one part amused, one part intrigued, one part wondering if this person was for real. Seriously, who the f #! was this? And, who renames a dead drop? That thought took a back seat, although it did reinforce the idea of how this was more human, and probably not anyone in the CIA…at least anyone she had ever heard of. But the thing that sparked her curiosity, was what could be waiting for her at the dead…live drop.

Sarah dropped what she was doing and headed to the library to check. She was positive she was being watched, part of her brain told her, this was a trap, but only a small part. Because the other part…the other part found herself wanting to know what was there, from the person that had renamed a dead drop to… 'Live drop'. What is the deal here? She didn't realize that she was grinning like a fool.

Taped to the bottom of the corral she often used (as it provided the best view of any approaches while leaving a concrete wall at her back) was a box containing blue light glasses and a sheet of paper: "With all of the time that you spend staring at your tablet and phone, you'll start getting headaches. The lenses are 0.0 as I've never seen you with glasses."

She stared at the glasses, and then tried them on. She halfway wondered if there wouldn't be some video or something in the lenses, given the way she was being monitored and the way the SA had avoided all means of being tracked. She found herself a little disappointed that they were just regular glasses. She slipped them off and resumed what she had been doing before the message had been sent to her.

She figured it would be a waste of time, but she sent the box and paper to Technical Services to have any prints run. The glasses she kept. They did make her eye strain better, plus she decided that they looked good on her. She was not surprised when the report from Technical Services came back a few days later with no prints found.

She told herself to give it 24 hours before she responded; she barely made it ten. The first thing she did the next morning was send out a text. In the back of her mind, she wondered what had happened to the agent that could wait out anyone…had the patience to wait over twenty hours in a sniper perch? As the back of her mind asked these questions, Sarah Walker hit send on the text.

*Geek chic? Going for the sexy librarian look?*

Right away she saw that a response was being typed. She realized that she was holding her breath, but no text came through. What was going on? A moment later she could see that more typing was taking place. Her frustration grew as she waited for her admirer to reply. Nothing. Then finally:

*Nerd. The preferred term is nerd. But you don't have to wear them if you don't like them. Sorry. I'm just…well, sorry.*

She starred at the screen trying to make sense of what had just happened. The first thing that struck her was that she had flirted, actually had been flirting. Sarah tried and tried to recall the last time that she flirted just for fun. She really wasn't sure. There was a bartender in Dresden, but was she really flirting, or was she just half-drunk? When was the last time she actively flirted, and it wasn't for a mission. When had she done it because…she wanted to?

She stared down back at her phone, disappointed in herself. Considering the fact that he or she apologized, apparently, she wasn't doing a very good job of it. She had always heard that you can't be good at anything you've never tried before outside of work. Apparently that was correct. She wondered how disappointed Roan would have been with what she just tried.

She was stumped. She was out of her league, but there wasn't a chance in hell that she was getting rid of the glasses. They were hers, and they helped, and damn it…she liked the way they looked on her.

She sighed, not sure what to do. The "sorry" haunted her. She wasn't remotely upset, at all, but apparently her secret admirer didn't realize that. Sarah didn't like the fact that her failed effort at flirtation had spoiled the moment. She wasn't sure what to do. She was out of her depth. What she needed was a class. Not from Roan. No, this one had to be done off books.

She knew, she knew exactly who she could get to help her, and do so off books. Hell, she'd never even know what Sarah was doing. She knew of no one that could flirt better than her…even if it meant she had to deal with the lunacy that accompanied her. Sarah scrolled down to one of the few numbers that were actually in her phone.

She started to type, but then erased it, grinning. She retyped it in Polish. What the hell was she doing? She was beginning to have fun. Was this smart? Would Carina notice her having this much fun and suspect something? If pressed, Sarah would tell her that she was trying to blend in and that's why she wanted Carina here. She pressed send.

*Zostałem usunięty z widoku publicznego. Przyjdź do mnie, jestem na kampusie uniwersyteckim.*

(I've been taken out of the public eye. Come see me, I'm on a college campus.)

A second later she got a reply. *Jak tylko będę mógł* (Soon as I can.)

Sarah nodded. She was going to figure out who this secret admirer was. She grinned at the thought.

A/N 2: This is supposed to be a fluffy, fuzzy Christmas story. Who invited Carina to the party? (Checks notes). Never mind. Makes perfect sense for Carina to lend a helping hand. Right? What could go wrong? Everything's fine. The Intersect was destroyed so that is out of the way until Piranha and Orion team up to build a newer, better one. Sarah got a thoughtful, if not terribly romantic gift from her secret admirer. Nothing to worry about. This is the perfect spot for a 48 hour pause in posting. Oh wait, Carina's coming to town…