The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: I haven't been fit for anything constructive or whatever for months. Sorry I haven't updated anything. Hope this one is worth the wait though. Thanks for the reviews.
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 stared down at his phone as he held it secretly below the table in his lap, the screen showing the Google search page, his finger hovering over the 'S'. It would be so easy to type her name in, hit enter, and read everything there was to know about the woman he hadn't been able to get out of his mind for weeks now.
Where was she born? When was she born? How had her career started? When? What other charities were important to her? What else was important to her?
But he shut down the screen of his phone altogether and shoved it back in his pocket instead, looking up at his chief engineer as he gave a rudimentary presentation on their next potential product. He'd missed most of it, but he'd had a meeting with Matt yesterday about the same thing.
He just couldn't get himself to concentrate today.
It had been six days since he'd gone to the charity benefit at Norm Alston's hilltop mansion and was knocked right onto his ass by the host announcing Sarah Walker as their main speaker for the night. Six days since he stood there, watching her as she spoke with sincere passion, each of her words hitting him right in the chest, leaving him breathless.
Maybe it was nuts after only seeing her a handful of times by chance here and there, but he was more drawn to her than he'd ever been to anyone else in his life.
And he wanted to know everything about her, which was why he kept pulling Google up on his phone, his tablets, his laptop… even during this damn meeting.
But then he shut it down again every single time before he got a chance to even type her name in. The idea of learning about her through some website instead of just talking to her like a non-celebrity might talk to another non-celebrity, left him feeling empty inside.
He didn't want the other night to be the last time he ever saw her. Chuck wasn't satisfied with that.
There was another thing, too.
He'd inadvertently been keeping her to himself. He hadn't told anyone that there was a woman he kept bumping into, a woman who stole his breath and made him feel at ease all at once, a woman who made his blood rush and burn at the same time, a woman who had life bursting out of her, catching him up in its clutches and making him feel so good. And he definitely hadn't told anyone her name was Sarah Walker.
Just because he hadn't caught on to who she was at first, didn't mean Ellie and Morgan wouldn't.
But there was just something magical about their handful of meetings (was it 3 now?) that made him want to keep her for himself. A touch of something so special he didn't want to share it with anyone. He wanted to protect it, hug it close to his chest, and think about her at night when he was lying in his bed in the dark trying to fall asleep.
And then again in the morning when he woke up.
And a few times throughout the day.
Was he going nuts? Maybe.
But she was worth going nuts over.
God, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life, which made sense because she was apparently a big freaking deal in the modeling industry. But then she was also so funny, quick to smile, and sometimes there was an almost mischievous tint to it that made his heart race.
She'd also opened up for him that night last week, after they'd gotten some teasing—or maybe flirtation—over with. And she'd told him about the trials she had with her life in the spotlight, even as she insisted she chose to stay in that life because she loved what she did, and that she'd take the consequences to get to keep doing what she was doing. He believed her without a doubt. She was probably incredible at what she did, because she'd been incredible at doing what he'd seen that night. But that didn't mean that primal and possibly outdated need in his chest to wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe hadn't reared its head.
He tried to ignore that need. She didn't require a tech CEO savior to swoop in and rescue her from the life she chose. But God, he wanted to do something about the wan exhaustion. He'd meant what he said about finding time to take a break for herself.
If only he could find a way to follow that rule himself.
Suddenly, he felt a stinging sensation in his hand and looked down to see a rubber band sitting on the table beside it. Frowning, he looked back up to see his best friend sitting across the table from him, his brow furrowed in consternation. It wasn't sincere consternation at least. He mouthed 'what the fuck' at his bearded company sales manager and got another look for that.
He knew he wasn't paying attention like he should be, but still, shooting a rubber band at him? The little troll.
"So is this something you can sell?" Matt asked Morgan Grimes then, turning off the powerpoint and leaning against the wall next to the screen.
"Oh, definitely. There's a big market for inexpensive handheld devices with apps and video games capabilities. The problem will be differentiating it from a smartphone. Everybody does everything on their phones now."
"Right, but this will primarily be for kids who aren't at that cell phone age just yet. And this is just for our own apps and games. No phone calls or anything."
Chuck tried his best to pay attention for the next 5 minutes as the conversation moved around the table, and when the meeting ended, Chuck made sure to thump his engineer on the back with a "Good job, Matt. Send me the schematics as you get them drawn up."
And he left the room along with the rest of his employees.
Morgan caught up with him in the hallway. "Hey, where is your brain at, buddy?" the shorter man asked him, his hand on his shoulder. "You were practically on another planet through the whole meeting."
"Sorry. I know. I should've been all there."
Morgan shrugged. "You know, you work your ass off, Chuck. And we all know you work your ass off. You're no criminal real estate mogul with an overblown ego letting everybody else do the work while you kick your feet up and play with your dingdong."
"What?" Chuck laughed, sending his friend a 'what the fuck' look.
"I'm just saying, it's okay. It's okay that you check out every so often."
"Oh is it? Is that why you shot me with a rubber band across the table?"
"I'm just testing my aim. You know I've been practicing. I'm getting pretty good." He grinned toothily.
"Yeah, I know. It hurt." He chuckled and led Morgan into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor where both of their offices were.
"Really, what's going on, though, pal? You've been kind of distracted the past few weeks, this last week in particular. Don't worry, dude, we've been best best best best friends since we were li'l tikes, I'm sure I'm the only one who's noticed." He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and Chuck let out a breath nodding. "What's up? Talk to me, bud."
"I'm sorry, Morgan. I've just got a lot buzzing around in my brain."
"Is it a girl?"
He made a face. "What?"
"A girl. You really lose your whole shit when you meet a girl. Not just meet a girl, but like when you really meet a girl, you get all lost in it. Space cadet." Chuck glared and Morgan shrugged again. "It's true. Ask Ellie."
"I don't wanna ask Ellie. And no, nah. No girl. When do I fuckin' have time for that?" he groused in a flat voice.
"Listen, my dude, if you made time for fuckin' you'd probably be a lot—What?!" he asked defensively as Chuck shoved him back into the elevator as he stepped out, laughing at the way Morgan had done bunny ears at fuckin'.
"Look who's talking," Chuck exclaimed, Morgan still nipping at his heels. "I've got work to do, buddy. And so do you."
"I know, I know. Fine, so it's not a girl. But you need a break, Chuck. I say this as someone who loves you."
"I know, Morgan. Thank you. I love you too." And then he stopped and turned to eye his best friend. "Really. Thanks. I'm taking it into consideration."
"Good." Morgan thumped him on the shoulder. "Listen, games at my place tonight. Benny's bringing the beer. Be there or be square."
"What time?"
"9 sharp."
"Alright. 9 sharp."
He saluted the bearded man and ducked into his office. He'd given his assistant Mara the day off for her son's birthday party and walked past her empty desk into his large corner office, shutting the door behind him and looking out into the late afternoon sunset through his massive floor to ceiling windows. He could see the Pacific from his desk, and that had been his goal when they'd built this skyscraper. He wanted his employees in their offices and at their desks to be able to find a westward facing window no matter what floor they were on and see the ocean so that they'd know what limitless possibilities looked like.
He thought it was sappy at the time, and he'd said as much in an interview with Forbes once NTI became a multi-million dollar operation and he made their Millionaires Under 30 list, and the quote had taken off. It had gone viral. He was dubbed the only tech mogul who gave a crap about his employees at every level of his company. And he knew that wasn't true, but his company had some good stock market days after that, so he'd take it.
And yet, he was still a sap.
Because that image of the ocean outside of his window reminded him of that hill he stood on 6 nights ago, the moon above him, a nice breeze wafting past him, and Sarah Walker standing next to him in comfortable silence.
He'd understood when she'd had to race off, but then he'd realized way too late that he hadn't gotten her phone number, or given her his.
He'd just let her go.
Damn it.
He still regretted that. He wanted that moment back.
She'd been everything he'd ever needed those 2 nights at those benefits. And it wasn't that he disliked the people who invited him. The causes were good, important. And he had no qualms about giving his money where it would do people genuine good. But he just didn't fit into that landscape.
He wasn't a celebrity. He didn't act. He didn't model. They took his picture for a few magazines where there were articles about him but it had made him a little uncomfortable and he'd just had to put up with it. He didn't have a massive inheritance and a reality show. He wasn't on Big Brother.
He liked computers. He liked video games.
He liked hiding his head in electronics, getting lost in code-land, talking schematics with his employees over a few rounds of Call of Duty.
But he also really liked being rich. It had solved a lot of his problems. And it had helped him get Ellie her dream as well. Her much deserved dream after she'd practically raised him and herself at the same time once their parents left them.
Then again, what was the use of his money if he didn't use it to lift others up with him? And that had become a large part of what he did with his money and time now.
He was exceptionally glad of it especially now that he'd met Sarah Walker at two of those benefits.
And now, he decided, he would happily accept invitations to just about every benefit or charity event or gala or whatever else that came his way. If only to bump into her at one again.
+ —
He'd gone to so many events over the past month that his head was practically spinning. He'd even gone to London for one of them. And like a damn stalker, he'd looked for her every single time.
To no avail.
Chuck Bartowski managed to do 2 things at once, just like he'd told Sarah Walker to do that night in Los Angeles. He'd worked hard at getting a prototype approved for Matt's device, going through every last bit of it with his engineers, his artists, the management staff at his factories in Central California. It was almost ready to introduce and promote on the international stage. In a few months, he would be standing on a stage pointing at a promotional video with some cool music or something, telling everyone how excited he was about it. That was how this went.
But at the same time, he'd kept thinking about Sarah Walker, wondering where she was, what she was doing. Was she thinking about him too? Had she looked him up?
He still had yet to Google her. He still hadn't told anyone he'd met Sarah Walker on numerous occasions now and would really like to meet her again. And again. And again. And maybe he'd have the guts to exchange numbers for fucks sake.
Chuck let out a long breath and thumped his head against the headrest of his seat, waiting for the limo to pull up to the red carpet. He opened his own door and climbed out, buttoning the button on his tux jacket as he walked past the paparazzi with their flashing cameras.
They were completely ignoring him though, thankfully, instead taking pictures of Georgia Lemming who'd wandered up the carpet after him, posing with her date, whoever he was. No doubt there would be a spotlight on him by the end of tonight, and tomorrow his name would be Mudd. That was how this thing operated, wasn't it?
Chuck was able to move into the room without being bothered much by the men and women with cameras, yelling "Look over here, Georgia!" And he was glad.
He showed his invitation, something others hadn't had to do, as their faces and the legacies that went with them were their invitations (another man might be offended but he wasn't), and then he was led into a massive dining area that was lit up so bright he nearly found himself squinting. Chandeliers were everywhere, and massive, dangling over the round tables with pristine white tablecloths.
And there were so many tables, he had to somehow find his name at one of the place settings. He supposed he'd start at the corner and make his way around the place. And he'd already looked at 6 different tables' name tags before he realized his invitation had a table number on it.
Feeling ridiculous, he sighed and cut through the room looking for the numbers mounted in the centerpiece of each table.
He lamented the fact that he was seated at Table 5, as it immediately inserted the BeeGees into his head, and he just knew it would take weeks to get that out again. Damn.
Crossing to his place setting, he just stood behind his seat awkwardly, one hand on the back of the chair. And he eyeballed the other names at his table. He was glad he didn't recognize them, save for Aaron Grainger. The real estate mogul liked to think he owned New York City in the palm of his hand, Chuck knew, because he read the news enough. But according to Mara who'd been born and raised here—particularly in Manhattan where Grainger pretended to run things—he "didn't own shit" and was hated in the city for as long as she could even remember. That was the only thing keeping him from running for Congress.
It made Chuck smirk. He was interested in what conversation would be like with the man. Would he be intelligent, or dumb as a bag of bricks? He couldn't help but wonder why someone like Aaron Grainger would be invited to an event like this, honoring an iconic activist for civil rights, when the man built his empire by battling against those things.
He spotted a colleague a few paces away, unsurprisingly already clutching a drink in her hand, as she hated these things more than he'd ever even have the guts to, and he caught her eye and grinned, joining her as she waved him over.
+ —
She was only half-listening. And she knew what Frederick Tonkin was saying was incredibly important, the meal was already basically over and she was restless.
Sarah couldn't seem to help casting her gaze along each face in the room, knowing the search was futile, just as it had been the handful of times she'd gone to other events since that night at Norm Alston's home.
It was futile, doing this. It had been over a month now. And she knew beyond all doubt that the 2 times she'd seen him at charity functions were just complete coincidences that wouldn't be repeated for a 3rd time.
She felt stupid for hoping.
And still she hoped, her eyes leaping from face to face. She couldn't even see most of the faces in the room they were all so packed into here. Still she looked.
It wasn't fair that a whole month had gone by and still she found herself thinking about him too much to be healthy. If anybody knew about him, about their 3 meetings, they would probably call her obsessed. But she wasn't obsessed. Not at all.
He'd just made her smile and laugh and feel comfortable. He'd made her feel like a human being instead of like a goddess statue on some pedestal to be ogled at and obsessed over. And maybe she wanted to feel more of that because it was so new and refreshing and felt so good.
That time they spent in Norm's greenhouse, and then the shared experience of nearly being caught by another couple, followed by a conversation that had become a lot deeper and more personal than she'd meant for it to. There was an immeasurable attraction that existed between them. It crackled in the air. And she felt it. It heated her body from the inside out.
She'd spent over an hour outside with him, maybe longer since she'd lost track of time. And before that, they'd chatted for a while outside of another event, hiding out of sight from the glass doors that led out onto the veranda. She'd felt the sparks, the ease with which she spoke to him. And how long it took him to break away from her that night to make his meeting on time.
Was it for the best that they never got a chance to act on that sizzle and spark? They were from 2 completely different worlds even if they were occasionally invited to the same sorts of charity benefits with other people who had a lot of money.
And for her to expect him to be here, at this particular event, all the way on the other side of the country? She felt ridiculous.
He wasn't at the other events she'd attended over the last month either.
She knew that because she'd looked.
Ugh. Was she a loser? She was. She was a sad excuse for a person.
There was a voice in her head that told her over and over that it'd be so easy to just go through his Nerd Tech company and contact him that way. But then what? Would she email him? How completely lame would that be? And what would she even say? "Hi there. Remember me? We keep bumping into each other at charity events and I literally bumped into you with my surfboard before that. Would you mind giving me your phone number?" And what if he wasn't the only one who saw his emails? What if he had an assistant who had access, who cleaned it out for him, and they saw Sarah Walker emailing their boss?
She would be ready to quit the madness of waiting for him to pop up at one of these things again, if she thought she even could. It was easy enough to say she should put him and those scant few hours of time she'd spent with him over the last 2 months out of her mind, but actually doing it was a whole different matter.
By the time she'd finished her dinner, the conversation at the table had swept her up, and she was battling against an opponent on political issues, much to the fascination of everyone else at the table. But the conversation was finally cut short by the host's announcement that the dancing part of the evening would commence in the ballroom.
She shook hands with Luke Biggins, the banker who'd started the debate with her, but kept him in the back of her mind for later. She'd definitely try to avoid him in the future.
Her check had already made its way into the host's hand, she thought then as she filed towards the ballroom with the rest of the chattering guests, and she wondered if she could just sneak out now. She'd made her appearance. She was tired. She was taking the next few days to just enjoy some alone time in a New York City loft she'd rented for this occasion. No modeling, no CIA. Just some peace and quiet.
She suddenly ached to get started on that immediately.
But she was like a fish in a raging river, getting pushed towards the ballroom. So she went with the flow and let them take her, and she'd connive a way to leave after everyone settled into the other room, the dancing began, and drinks were poured liberally.
She felt someone's shoulder and entire arm jam against her side then and she staggered to her left. Hands grappled at both her elbow and her opposite arm, keeping her from stepping wrong on her heel, turning an ankle, or pitching over. The man who'd hit her apologized profusely, and he was extra sincere when he caught sight of her face, recognizing her as the Sarah Walker.
"It's alright," she said politely, smiling at him and putting a kind hand on his upper arm.
It wasn't like he really had much choice with the way folks were jostling him on his other side. She felt like she was in a Black Friday stampede to get into a department store.
But then she realized somebody had helped her to keep her from falling and getting trampled, and she whipped around to her own left to thank them.
Her jaw fell open and her eyes about fell out of her skull. She caught herself quickly, even as her heart raced so hard she felt a little dizzy almost. "Sorry," she said with a shrug.
She was highly amused by the unadulterated shock on his face, and then she was struck by the immediately beaming grin on his face. "Oh, no problem. You okay?"
"Yes. Thanks. Good catch."
Suddenly, Chuck Bartowski looked liable to burst into laughter, but he just barely held it in. It intrigued her, the way he turned to the front again as if the conversation was over, as if they were 2 people who'd never met before. She followed suit, until she was jostled up close to him again.
In a voice only he could hear, she asked, "Shall we find a garden or some sort of hidden balcony?"
"Uh, hell yes," he muttered back immediately.
Sarah clamped her teeth down against her bottom lip to keep from cracking up. She felt almost a desperation to get away from all of these people, to somewhere without prying ears or eyes, where it could just be her and Chuck.
That ache she'd just been feeling to get out of here and go back to her rental and hide with a drink and her television was now replaced by a different one.
How often had he thought of her? As much as she'd thought of him?
The ballroom was so crowded once they got inside, people clumping together to dance in the center, that it was easy for them to sneak out of the nearest door onto a side balcony without anyone else noticing. He'd gotten a bit caught up in the heavy curtains as he tried to pull them shut to cover the glass doors, making her giggle almost manically.
She led him to the railing and leaned against it, letting out a rough sigh and grinning out at the city lights.
Chuck leaned next to her and scooted closer. She felt the warmth of him. How in the hell was this still happening? Just when she'd given up seeing him again. Almost like her life was taunting her.
That was okay. It could taunt her as much as it wanted as long as this was the outcome.
She shoved away all of the "you shouldn't be doing this with him" thoughts and decided to take this gift and enjoy it. She'd just had a long and grueling week, including a mission she and Casey hadn't been able to complete, even if it hadn't necessarily been anything either of them had done wrong. And now she was here in the same place as Chuck Bartowski again through sheer coincidence.
"And so this time you're the one who's been run over."
She was caught off guard and laughed, shaking her head and turning to look up at him. He smirked back at her, looking like he was just as happy this had happened as she was. And she loved that he didn't feel the need to suppress that even a little.
"I really was run over, wasn't I? Luckily it was right into you, though."
"You would've been caught in the stampede, no doubt. I would've had to pluck you up into my arms and rescue you from being trampled."
One of her eyebrows shot up. "Mmmhm sure. Any excuse to take me in your arms."
"Maybe."
Sarah hadn't expected that comeback, and so quickly too. She peered up at him with a long look, a slow smile growing on her face. She was so glad to see him. This exciting feeling of being able to talk to him again igniting in her chest.
"Crazy how this keeps happening," he said then, chuckling and shaking his head. "That's 3 times now. I'm just…phew. We're not even in LA this time."
"I know," she drawled, eyes wide. "Have to be honest, I'm maybe starting to buy into this whole kismet fate thing. I mean, unless you stalked me all the way to New York City this time." She winked to let him know she didn't actually think that. Nobody knew her schedule except for her agent and Casey. Mostly Casey, since her agent knew nothing of her career with the CIA.
She'd found ways to keep it that way. Though it was no easy feat, especially at first. And especially not when she was dating a guy. And maybe that was why all those relationships had failed so miserably.
"I did not," he said, and she spotted a blush on his face, a good-natured smirk on his lips. "But I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth because it's so good to see you again."
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from beaming too intensely, aware of the fact that she was doing the opposite of what she'd admired him for just a few moments earlier. Suppressing.
"No looking a gift horse in the mouth. Agree," she said, turning to look out over the city. And then she snuck a glance at him, sweeping her gaze up and down. There were no ifs ands or buts about it, there was something exceptionally sexy about him tonight. His tuxedo was a metallic dark blue with black lapels on the jacket and a black button-up underneath. And it fit him really, really well. It somehow made him look taller even as he stooped forward a bit to lean his elbows on the railing. "I haven't seen you in blue yet. Adventurous." She smirked as he sent her a dubious look. "Are vibrant suits something you save for New York City only?"
He laughed. "No, I just thought I'd switch it up." He straightened and faced her, thrusting his hands out to the sides so that she could get a better look. And look she did. "You like it?"
"Mhm. Makes you kinda stand out. In a good way."
"Ah mannnn I don't wanna stand out. I knew I should've just stuck with black," he teased, and she giggled. But then she caught his eyes wandering down and then back up again. Before he turned and looked out at the city view instead. "You look beautiful tonight."
"You sure it isn't just that you missed me?"
"Can it be both?"
He was really good at catching her off guard. She bit her lip and shrugged. "Sure." And then she smiled. "Thank you." She cleared her throat, aware of her own blush at how charming all of that had been. Genuinely charming. "I'm still not convinced you didn't know I'd be here and finagled your way onto the guest list by tossing around your Nerd Tech Inc credentials."
Chuck laughed. "You think I'd waste the gas in my private plane to come all the way across the country for that? Not that you aren't fantastic."
She laughed with him, and then she realized what he'd just said, turning to eye him. "Private plane, huh? You use that line with all the supermodels you're trying to seduce?" When his eyes widened, she continued. "And does it usually work?"
He seemed a little at loss for words. "I, uh, I've never been called out like that." Then he made a teasing car-screeching sound. "Hold on, back up. That's not true. I haven't been called out like that since Nerd Tech Inc started pulling." She gave him a look and he must have realized how that sounded. "Money!" he rushed out as she laughed at him. "Oh my God, I didn't mean to sound like such a douchebag. I don't mean pulling, like, women. Jesus Christ…" Chuck pushed his hands against his forehead and groaned.
"No, you're in a safe space here, it's fine. Tell me about all of your conquests," she teased, making him turn red. She could still see it clearly in spite of the lack of light where they were standing.
"Oh my God, please stop." He laughed and shook his head, so obviously embarrassed. "And for the record, I was teasing about the private plane. That's not something I like to drop seriously into conversation."
The way he phrased that, though. "…But you do have one?"
He winced. "Sort of? It's a company plane. And we only use it when we have to."
"Did you take it here?"
"Yes, if you must know. But only because they cancelled the flight I planned on taking."
"Mmmmhm," she hummed, and then she giggled and put a hand on his arm. "I'm teasing you, Chuck. Out of all of the people in the world to mock you for being rich, I'm probably, like, the worst candidate. I'm not exactly poor." She shrugged. "I've never been poor even before I was discovered and all this took off."
He nodded. "I'm not gonna dig on you for that. In fact, I can't think of any reason why I'd dig on you, Sarah Walker."
"None? Oh, come on," she giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. "I'm a celebrity model and actress. Pick up literally any tabloid and you'd find something."
"They're lying assholes, though. That doesn't count. Like, sure, I could lie too. That Sarah Walker? Oh, she sucks. She's not funny at all. Like, terrible sense of humor." She began to laugh at his antics. "She's so mean. She hit me in the shoulder with her surfboard and you know what she did instead of apologizing?"
"What did she do?" she asked, playing along, absolutely tickled.
"She said, 'Sucks for you, asshole. Go cry to your mommy.' In those exact words."
Sarah cracked up, leaning over the railing as she shook her head at him.
"And she isn't…the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my entire life, either. Nnnnope," he said softly as she sobered up a bit.
She watched him closely for a few moments, taking him in as he did the same with her, and she finally asked quietly, "She isn't?"
"No," he said just as quietly. "She's got green eyes, black hair, and a big hunch right here—"
"Stop," she laughed, play shoving him.
"My point is," he chuckled, "Tabloids are full of lies. They make bullshit up to sell their magazines. Get clicks on their websites. Not gonna drag you based on that crap."
She raised her eyebrows. "Well, not all of it is lies. Some of it has been true," she admitted, and then she watched subtly to see his reaction.
"Yeah, well… In that case, Sarah, whether you did some of the stuff they say you did or not, it's your own business and they should leave you the hell alone and stop putting you in their trashy rags." His nod said "so there" as he looked out over NYC's sky scape. "I'm still not gonna dig on you for any of that."
"Very big of you," she said formally.
"I can be big. I have my big moments," he played along.
"Oh, clearly." And she ran her eyes down to his feet and back up again, smirking.
He went red. "Yes, I know. I'm tall."
Sarah laughed. "I actually meant Nerd Tech Inc., being a hugely successful tech corporation owner. But sure, you're really tall, too."
Chuck blushed harder. "Oh. Um…"
"I like it."
She hadn't really meant to say it, or to be so bold. And she bit the inside of her cheek, turning to watch the city lights flicker as she felt his gaze on the side of her face.
"Have a thing for giants then?"
She cracked up and shook her head. "You're such a moment ruiner."
"I know. It's my curse."
"At the moment, it's mine too. Considering you keep being a complete and utter moment ruiner."
He laughed, thrusting his hands out with a shrug as if he couldn't help it. But then he moved in close to her, their sides touching and they stood there in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company.
She felt him slowly turned to look at her, as if he was feasting on her profile with his eyes, and she just let him, feeling herself blushing a little. She didn't know how that continued to happen with him when her entire existence as a model consisted of people announcing how gorgeous she was at every waking moment.
He wasn't like the rest of them. He made her shiver in the best way.
"Do you kind of wish there was a staircase at the end of this balcony so that we could just sneak out of here without anyone knowing and…I don't know, get some drinks? Or just…" He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "We keep meeting at these places, these events, where we have to…actually stick around and do stuff. Am I the only one who finds that frustrating?"
Relief spilled through her. "No. You aren't. We're on the same page," she admitted, turning to look at him. She felt want inside of her. And it wasn't necessarily sexual, though she couldn't help wanting that too. The spark between them seemed to have kindled a fire. And she didn't think it was safe to act on it here.
Maybe…that was what he meant?
"This atmosphere isn't…conducive to…"
"Talking freely?" he offered.
Sucking face. Though that was kind of gross and crude. She just wanted to kiss him. Last time, she wanted to just hold onto him, feel his arms around her. This time, she wanted his lips on hers.
But all it took was someone coming out through the door they'd found behind the curtains and they'd be busted. Sarah Walker kissing some mystery man. It'd be EVERYWHERE. IMMEDIATELY.
"Gah," he emitted, bracing his hands on the railing and letting his head fall forward in frustration. He squeezed so hard she saw his knuckles going white. She understood the sentiment more than she was comfortable admitting. "I can't explain it, Sarah. It just feels like…magic. Doesn't it?"
Sarah bit her lip. "I'm not sure I believe in magic. Not to be a party pooper," she added, realizing how cynical that sounded.
"So you think it's just a series of coincidences that we keep meeting like this?"
She shrugged, unsure. At least he seemed curious instead of upset. "I don't know. It's significant."
"And magical," he added, doing some weird thing with his hands fanning out and making fireworks sounds with his mouth. She laughed at him. "I don't know what kind of magic that was, but work with me here, Sarah, okay?"
"Okay, okay. I'm working with you. It's magic."
"Thank you," he chuckled. "Honestly, I'm just being my usual nerdy self saying shit like that. Like this is some fantastical wondrous thing that some magical higher power keeps setting up. But the truth is that it's been a long time since I've felt so grounded and solid and…real."
Sarah felt her eyes widening, and that urge to grab him and kiss him increased tenfold. She bit her lip instead, just staring into his eyes. "And human?" she asked.
"And human, yeah. You get it. I'm not the only one, am I? Am I going nuts here? Crossing a line? Intense?"
She giggled. "You're one of the most intense people I've ever met, Nerd Company Guy." The nickname made him chuckle, pleasure in his face. "But not in an off-putting way."
"Oh great thanks."
She grabbed his arm, trying to placate him. "No, seriously!" she tried, beaming at him. "You're overwhelming, but in a really good way. It's just that you say stuff I've never heard before, especially not ever since I started being successful and well-known. And you're…sincere. It's new. And I guess that's why it seems intense. I'm not used to it."
"Sorry," he muttered, his face soft as he looked down at her.
"I'm not."
There was something delicious in the way he bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, like he wanted to dive into her and never come up for air again. It made her heart race, her breath catch.
But he gave a small shake of the head and turned back to look out at the cityscape, letting out a slow breath and holding onto the railing again. She wondered if he was resisting for the same reason she was.
He let out a quiet breath in amusement then, give his head a good shake this time, smirking.
"What?" she asked, bumping him with her hip.
Chuck glanced at her and smiled. "Just thinking about what folks would say if they knew I'd been having these clandestine and totally random, accidental meetings with Sarah Walker, model and actress. I assume you end up on the covers of magazines a lot?" She shrugged modestly. "Yeah, of course you do." The way he said it felt like pure kindness and she grinned at him for it. "I can think of a few people who'd lose their minds."
And then what he said hit her and she knit her brow in question. "Wait, so you…haven't talked to anyone about this?"
"No, of course not," he said, and he looked like he wondered if maybe he'd said the wrong thing.
"Of course not?" she prompted, curious. She had her own reasons for not talking about Chuck to anyone, not even Casey. Maybe especially not Casey. He'd surely have some shit to say about it. He'd remind her of the catastrophes that came upon them whenever she fell in with a guy.
"I-I just mean that…erm… Well, like I said before with the magic. I dunno, it feels like there's this…spelled bubble or something that surrounds us here that just lets me…relax and be…myself. Really be myself. You know? And it's just me and you here, nobody else. Nobody else even knows about it. It feels like maybe the bubble will pop if anyone else knows." He swallowed hard, furrowing his brow and meeting her awestruck gaze. "Or maybe it's just that I…don't wanna share this with anybody. I want this time with you for myself." He tilted his head and winced. "Was that intense again?"
"Yeah. It was."
"Did I go too far?"
"No. God no." She couldn't help letting her fingers run down the silky black lapel of his dark blue suit, setting the fingers of her other hand to his tie and playing with it. She was shivering and it wasn't exactly the cold New York City air. How did she feel both supremely comfortable and seriously turned on at the same time?
They were high up on this balcony, with no way out of the this situation but to go back through the party. And if they did that together, what Chuck said about the bubble felt so real, it would pop.
She wanted him to herself too. She totally felt that down to her deepest core.
But before she could say fuck it and just kiss him, they heard a sound behind them. She acted on instinct, her training coming into play, and she grabbed Chuck, yanking him to the back of the balcony and pulling him behind the corner to the other wing of the building, into the shadows.
Two women stepped out onto the balcony, giggling as they lit cigarettes. And now they were trapped until those cigarettes were finished.
Sarah sighed and turned so that her back was pressed to the cool cement wall, and she shut her eyes, angling her head back. She glanced to the side at Chuck as he snuck a peek around the corner and quickly pulled back again, rolling his eyes at her.
They couldn't talk here as they waited for the women sneaking cigarettes to finish and go back inside. They'd be heard. The balcony was large and it was a little windy so far up, but they'd still be heard if they tried to continue their conversation. So instead she just inched closer to him and let her arm press against his, gleaning warmth from him, turning her head so that she could look up into his face. They smiled quietly at one another and just kept staring.
+ —
Chuck Bartowski couldn't help himself, every so often looking across the ballroom to seek Sarah Walker out. And when he found her, he'd smile to himself, before quickly turning away again.
A handful of times, they caught one another looking, they'd share knowing smirks, and look away.
It had filled him with complete and utter glee, knowing he wasn't alone in this.
After the smokers went back inside, only 10 minutes of hiding with Sarah pressed against him, motioning to another another and making faces in an attempt to converse without audible sounds, they decided they should probably not chance it and get back inside instead of continuing things like before.
First she'd gone back in and he'd followed a few minutes later, after biting his fist and letting out a few long breaths to calm his…everything.
She really set him on fire. And he didn't necessarily mean only in his nether region. She made his heart erupt into flames, and his brain as well. His skin tingled, his face overheated.
And more than anything, he just couldn't stop wanting to be around her.
Which was why he'd now spent an hour and a half doing this middle school style meeting eyes across the room and looking away smiling and blushing shit with her.
But it was just as he was finishing up a conversation about the differences between 4G and 5G that he spotted Sarah trying to get his attention from the corner of the ballroom. She mouthed something.
Oh.
She was leaving.
He saw her give him a small wave, just a wiggle of her fingers at her hip, but he understood well enough.
Shit, no. No, he couldn't let her leave like this. With one last smile sent his way, she turned on her heel and disappeared.
Oh God no.
Not again.
He gulped and thanked his host for the conversation, stepping away from the other guests and he snuck around the room down a side hallway. He had to beat her to the lobby of the building and catch her somehow.
He had to have some damn courage and do what he should've done that day on the beach, instead of letting her leave without…doing something. Something that meant he'd see her again.
Fate intervened that time. And then again. And again. And again.
As he raced down the stairs towards the lobby, he realized how stupid this was. That he was on the 11th floor for fucks sake and there was no way he wouldn't die trying to clear the last 11 flights trying to get down there before she did.
So he raced out of the stairwell and slid to a stop at the elevators, pressing the button to call the elevator. "C'mon c'mon c'mon," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Hurry up…"
DING!
"Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes!"
The doors opened and he leapt inside, making the small round man already in the elevator jump in shock. Chuck hit the close button 10 times before the doors finally shut and he fidgeted nervously.
Crap, what if she was already gone because his panic made him head for the stairs. Why was he such a fucking idiot?
Finally, the doors opened in the lobby and he leapt back out again, spinning on his heels to look first one way, then the other, trying to see if he could spot her. But that was when he saw paparazzi breaking through the lobby doors, pushing inside in spite of the doorman trying to keep them out.
Shit.
Did they spirit Sarah Walker out some side entrance to keep these assholes from preying on her? In spite of it meaning he'd lost his chance, he hoped they did. These guys were insane. It filled him with a deep annoyance to see them pawing at each other to try to get in and catch photos of THE Sarah Walker.
Chuck slid into a side hallway and frowned, wondering where she was. He heard the elevator ding and went back to the lobby, peeking around the corner.
She was there. But nobody had noticed her yet. Her eyes widened as she stepped off of the elevator and she froze for a moment.
"Psst! Sarah! Hey!" he hissed. "Hey!" He waved frantically at her and she furrowed her brow in confusion, her eyes flicking over to him. "C'mere!" He glanced over his shoulder towards the paparazzi. The glorious doorman was holding their attention still, the damned hero. "Hurry!" He waved for her to join him again.
Sarah acted fast, rushing towards his hallway, and when she got close enough, he lost any semblance of boundaries and grabbed her by her arm, yanking her to safety and slipping his hand into hers, pulling her down the hallway.
"Chuck, how'd you get down here so fast?" she asked, panting a little.
"Ran 4 flights, took the elevator down the rest of the way," he said over his shoulder, headed for the corner. Once they cleared the corner, they'd be safe enough. At least for a moment.
"What?" she giggled, sounding a little manic.
He didn't respond until he got around the corner, pulling her with him, and then he had her with her back against the wall. He put at least a little space between them. "Hi. Sorry. The paparazzi just, like, flooded in and I thought…" He took a deep breath, catching sight of a door that was ajar that led into what looked like an ice room or something. "In here. C'mon."
She went with him to the door, ducking inside first as he followed, and then he shut it again behind them. "Okay. Hi," he said again, totally breathless.
"Hi," she breathed, a grin threatening to break on her face. She just watched him expectantly.
"I'm gonna get you out of here," he said then, nodding.
"Are you?" she asked, a teasing look on her face now.
Chuck gave her a self-deprecating smirk and shrugged. And then he realized this was his moment. Now or never. "Listen, we keep meeting up at these functions accidentally. And whether it's magic or fate or a coincidence, just because it keeps happening over and over again doesn't mean that it's gonna keep happening. I'm not gonna depend on magic or fate or coincidence. I want to see you again, for sure, without wondering if we'll show up at the same charity benefit in…shit, Barcelona the next time." She giggled quietly, still just peering up at him prettily. "So is it okay if I get your phone number?"
Her eyes widened and a sparkle lit in them. She looked almost shy as she looked up through her eyelashes at him. "Taking things into your own hands, Nerd Company Guy?"
"Yes," he said plainly. And he supposed she was expecting him to keep up the flirtation.
A slow smile grew over her face when he didn't. "Well, thank God one of us had the guts. Gimme your phone." He grinned hard at that. And he just stared at her long enough that she giggled and raised her eyebrows like hello? He jumped and shook himself, then he went into his pocket to snag his phone, unlocking it and handing it to her. "There it is," she giggled. And then she looked down at it. "The hell is this contraption?"
"My phone. I built it myself." She sent him a look. "I'm…Ahem, I'll just…" He peeled the phone back out of her hand. "If you want to just tell me, I can…save us some time."
She gave him a dubious look, then gave him her number. For some reason, he didn't want to put "Sarah Walker" into his phone, so instead he saved her under Surfboard Sarah. When she saw it she laughed. "I like that," she said, smiling big at him. And then he heard a buzz coming from her purse. Her face sobered quickly. "Shit, I-I have to go. But please use that."
"Oh, trust me I will."
And she grinned, going for the door. But as she turned to go back towards the lobby, Chuck dashed after her, catching her hand. "Wait. That way lies danger." She gave him a look. "Paparazzi," he said.
"Ohhhh." Then she paused. "Oh. Shit. Of course."
"There's a back door and I think I can get you to it if we go this way." She paused for only a second, and then she nodded. "Good, follow me."
This time, she took his hand. And he led her through the hallway and towards the back of the building as he heard her call her driver and tell them to pull the car around to the back. All she had to tell them was that the paparazzi had gotten in and it sounded like the driver had gotten the gist with how quickly she hung up then.
"Are you sure?" she asked after a minute of wandering. Aimed wandering.
"Yep," he chirped, and it took less than 30 seconds for them to sneak down some stairs that were apparently for employees only, ducking into a laundry room of sorts, sneaking through the vacant area thank goodness, and back up another flight of stairs.
Chuck shoved the door open and was hit by a gust of cold NYC air directly to his face. "Eureka!"
There were no paparazzi, just an unmarked black car slowly making the turn around the opposite end of the building. He assumed it was hers.
"You absolute hero, Chuck Bartowski," Sarah breathed at his ear. She squeezed his hand and let go. "That's Casey." He moved so that she could go to her car as it pulled up, but she stopped and turned to face him. She closed the distance again and put a hand on the side of his face, moving up to her tiptoes and kissing him. It was a quick kiss, but she kissed him hard, their lips coming apart with a smack. "Thanks, Chuck."
"You—You're welcome," he muttered to himself, as she was already at the car, whipping the back door open and diving inside. He watched the car peel away before she'd even gotten the door shut, and as it burst around the corner and onto the street, out of sight, people with cameras ran after it, yelling.
Chuck ducked back into the room so fast, slamming the door shut that he almost fell back down the stairs. He caught himself by sitting down, and then he took his phone out and looked down at it, pulling her number up again.
He was fucking insane for it, he knew, but he hit the CALL button anyway.
Thanks for reading.
SarahsSupplyCloset
