The Model Agent

By SarahsSupplyCloset

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you like this next chapter. And plants, I guess. Lots of plants.

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.


"So what was that?"

Sarah looked up from her lap, a massive grin still plastered on her face. She met Casey's look in the rearview mirror and realized she must look like an idiot, so she controlled her features and shrugged. "What?"

"You know what."

She did. And she pretended she didn't. "The paps pushed in past the doorman because they got wind I'd be leaving a little early. They were going to try to eat my soul like the vicious creatures they are, so I found a back way out of there."

"That's great. I wasn't talking about that. Who was that?"

"Oh, you said what so I just assumed you meant what," she said listlessly, trying to deflect.

"You know exactly what I mean," he grumbled. "The guy."

"What guy?"

"The guy at the door when I pulled up, Walker."

"Oh, the guy."

"Yeah, the guy. Did you hit your head?"

"No, why would you say that?"

"God damn it, you're such a pain in the ass."

She trusted he was keeping his eyes faced front as she grabbed the duffel from the floor and started to change out of the gown and into the black pants and matching thermal.

"I know. Ain't I a stinker?" She tugged the pants up her long legs, grunting as she yanked them up over her backside, having to sling her legs longways over the seat to be able to zip up and button the pants.

"You gonna answer?" She rolled her eyes. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"I'm changing! Are you looking back here?"

"No, you just roll your eyes loudly, you brat."

"You're such an asshole."

"Thank you. Now answer."

"Oh my God. Okay, Grandpa. He's just a friend who was at the party. Helped me find a side way out."

He grunted. "Do you kiss all your friends like that?"

Damn it.

She pulled the thermal down over her bra and rolled her eyes again. Let him hear that. "If I do, it's none of your God damn business."

"Eh. That's true. Except I'm detailed with making sure your prissy ass stays alive. So if you're swinging around at these charity shindigs—"

"Shindigs?" she tried, but he kept going, ignoring her glibness.

"Mackin' on rich heirs and legacy inheritance manwhores, I need to know what the hell is goin' on so that I don't murder some slick bastard trying to sneak into your one of your many homes, THE Sarah Walker, only to find out he's one of your boy toys."

Sarah grit her teeth and pushed herself off of the seat to come up to the window she typically kept open unless she needed some quiet or meditation time during drives. Right up on his shoulder, she snapped, "Don't talk about me like that. I know you don't mean it, Casey, but don't. Not even in jest."

He had the decency to look contrite at least. "Hn. Sorry. You're right. That ain't how you do things. I know." He shrugged. "I still need to make sure I don't shank some guy thinking he's someone from our other life, or worse, a stalker, only to find out you invited him."

Sarah sighed and pulled her claws in, sitting back on her seat. "I'm going to see him again," was all she felt safe saying.

"Okay, do what the fuck you want, kid. But be careful, whoever he is." He paused then, and then finally spoke up again. "Who is he?"

"He's not an heir. He didn't inherit anything. He built his company himself, from the ground up. I'm pretty sure. And he's honest."

"He might kiss honest, but that don't mean nothin'."

"What do you think, I just randomly kissed some guy who helped me find the back door? I've talked to him. I know he's honest." And he was a good guy. And now that she had a moment to reflect, as short as that kiss had been, it had felt pretty nice, so he was also a good kisser.

"Well, he definitely ain't a model," Casey snickered. She frowned darkly at him and he shrugged. "What? It's obvious."

"You're such a jerk. He's very cute."

"Don't mean he's a model," he snickered again. "So what company?"

"It's a tech company."

Casey laughed for a solid minute, long and loud enough that she nearly missed the jingling of her phone going off. When Casey didn't seem like he'd stop laughing anytime soon, she pushed the button to raise the soundproof partition between them and grabbed her phone.

It was a number she didn't recognize, but it had an LA area code. Biting her lip, her heart racing, she answered. "Hello?"

"Oh. Hi."

A grin exploded onto her face.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is…irregular maybe. I'm literally still sitting on the staircase in this…whatever…laundry room looking basement place. I gave this absolutely no time whatsoever. I just… Well? Hi."

"Hi," she said, giggling. "You don't mess around, do you, Mr Bartowski?"

"Is that bad?"

She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of the car and beamed hard. "Not from where I'm sitting."

"Oh, good," he said warmly, relief in his tone. She found she really liked the sound of his voice over the phone. It made her feel a weird sense of comfort. "See, I'm in New York for a few days. I don't—I don't know if you had to rush off to catch a plane or what, but um…Well, I thought if you're going to be in the city for a bit longer, we could…see each other. Again. No benefits or galas. Just us…hangin' out."

Now her heart was really hammering against her chest. "Yes," she said immediately. "I'd love that."

"You would?" he asked. "Yeah? So you didn't rush off to catch a plane…"

"No. I didn't. I have…another engagement." She had an office to sneak into, and a computer to break into.

"Oh. Gotcha. Busy busy."

"Yep! Busy busy." She widened her eyes.

"Well, um…I have one last meeting in the morning… How is tomorrow night looking?" He really didn't mess around and she loved it.

"Tomorrow night is looking free." Casey was lowering the window, apparently unaware she was on the phone, so she slammed her finger on the button to put it back up again, glaring at him as he laughed.

"That's…That's great. Want to get dinner or…?"

The reality of who she was, what her life was, the limitations of being Sarah Walker, wasn't something she could expect him to understand. So she spoke quietly, sobering up a little. "Um, Chuck…would you mind if we did this at my place maybe? Or-Or yours. Either one. It's just that people…know me, you know? And we won't actually get to be…alone. I'll be recognized if we go out…"

"Oh. God. Shit, of course. I'm stupid." She thought she distantly heard the thunk of his palm hitting his forehead.

"You're not stupid."

Casey had rolled down the window again and she heard him snort with a "Bet he is, though."

Honestly, she might kill him.

"Well, what about my place? I can text you the address. It's not a hotel or anything. It's a private building with condos. I got it for the week. You just take the elevator up and nobody will see you."

"So long as I get on the elevator alone?" she asked.

"I'll make sure of it."

She raised an eyebrow at that. Why did that sound so hot?

"I'll text you the address. I'm free after 3 pm, so 3:30 and after, just let me know when you're downstairs and I'll get you up to my floor." She must have made him think she was unsure with her silence, even though she didn't mean to, because he rushed on. "I promise you, nobody's gonna see. There's a back elevator and I'm the only one who usually uses it since it only goes to certain floors, mine being one of them. Trust me. I'll take care of you."

There was nothing patronizing or overprotective about the way he'd said that. He'd just meant it, and she didn't feel anything presumptuous about it at all.

"Will you now?" she asked flirtatiously. She heard Casey give off a disgusted grunt and the window was rolled back up again. She smirked. But then she felt the car coming to a slow stop and she knew it was showtime. Before Chuck could think of a comeback, she cut in again. "Chuck, I have to go. But I'm looking forward to your text about tomorrow."

"Alright, great! I'll see you tomorrow. I mean, I'll text you now and see you tomorrow."

"Right. Bye."

She hung up and turned off the phone. She'd get his text later, after all of this was done and over with. Casey opened the back door and slid in with her, already taking his pistol out of his back pocket as he shut the door behind him.

"Got the masks?" he asked, sticking the gun in the shoulder holster he was wearing under his driver's jacket.

Sarah pulled the masks out and tossed one to him, pulling the other down over her head and face. "Go time."

"Go time."

+ —

Sarah winced as she slowly sat up and took the ice offered to her.

"You're ridiculous for even trying that shit. Just so you know."

"You told me to run!" she snarled at her partner, snatching the ice and holding it against her upper ribs just below her armpit and adjacent to her right breast. She shivered as the condensation wet the tank top she changed into when they got back from the mission the night before and she fell into the bed after pumping aspirin down her throat and having two shots of whiskey. Per doctor's orders. The doctor being John Casey of the NSA.

"You CIA are nut jobs. I told ya to run, not jump off a two story balcony and land in a planter."

"The tree caught me before I hit the planter," she snapped, pissed that he was laughing.

"Is that what that's from?" He chuckled and pointed at where she was holding the ice.

"I'd prefer this to having bullets in my back, you dick."

That just made him laugh all the more. "Still hurt as bad as last night? Think you broke something in there? I don't wanna have to take Sarah Walker to the hospital. Press will lose it's damn mind."

She shook her head. "No. I don't think it's broken. No hospital. Please. The bruise is awful, though."

"Understandable." He winced. "I saw when you hit the branch and landed. Not pretty."

"Yeah, imagine how it felt." She hissed and shifted the ice, sighing and shaking her head.

At least they'd gotten the intel they needed, and her special access as a high powered personality in the industry had meant proverbially walking them through an open door. Luckily she'd logged out of the computer and erased her activity per the guidance of the analyst she'd spoke with over the earpiece while she'd done it.

But then she'd been spotted by security while she was trying to sneak out. She yelled at Casey in her comms to get the car started. He'd warned her other guards were running towards the building to provide back-up, and he yelled "You need to run!" and she'd heard the "FREEZE!" Before a few gunshots went off, smacking the wall right near her head and the floor at her feet. She had nowhere to go but out onto the balcony. And then she'd leapt over.

One of the first things she knew she should've done was to check where she'd be jumping. But hindsight was 20/20.

And now she was in pain. Granted, less pain than she was in last night.

"Can you get me that aspirin bottle?"

"I think you should get it. You'll heal faster if you get up and do things for yourself. Work past the pain."

"This isn't a fucking cramp during a light jog, Casey. Jesus Christ," she hissed, moving to get up and get the bottle.

"Just sayin'. That's how I always get past my injuries."

"You just walk it off the last time you were shot, Casey? Or did they put your leg up in a sling and force you to take some R&R during which they sent you your own nurse to care for you?" Sarah asked, remembering that situation very well.

He grumbled. "Shut up. I was shot. That's different."

"Okay."

She popped aspirin into her mouth and gulped it down with water. "Good thing I'm taking the next few days off."

"Y'sure about that? When's the last time that worked out?"

"It's going to work out this time because I told Graham if I didn't get these next few days to myself, I'd burn the hell out."

Casey snorted. "Right, and the CIA's never let their agents and spies get burnout before."

"Stop being such a jerk. Please."

"Well, I'm just wondering if you consider what we did last night work because he sprung it on us last minute. You think he won't again?"

"Not if you don't freaking jinx it."

She held her breath as she felt a pang under the ice, wincing.

"Still gonna see your tech guru tonight?" Casey snickered. "You gonna play with his little A.I. friend who rolls around doing hard equations and vacuuming?"

"I wouldn't make fun if I were you, Casey, when you still haven't figured out how to do either of those things and you're not A.I." He grunted in annoyance and glared. "Anyways, that sounds kind of fun. Playing with a little robot? I'd be into that."

"Gross, Walker. I don't need to know about your sexual fantasies. Good luck playing that off, though," he said as she groused at him for his crack about sexual fantasies.

She looked down and pulled the shirt up to see her bruise. "Ugh, shit. My date. And I have this. What do I wear?"

"That's my cue to get the fuck outta here."

And Casey was gone just as fast. Good. Maybe that was the best way to get rid of him. But then she sent him a text, because she felt the need to torment him about his cover job.

"You realize you have to drive me to his place, right?"

She waited for a few minutes and got the response. "Ugh. U mean he isnt picking u up in his Tesla?"

Sarah laughed and shook her head, deciding not to even text him back. She'd give him a break for a few hours. But she needed to figure out how she would manage to keep her injury from being spotted by Chuck tonight.

At least it wasn't on her face. She could just wear something that covered it, she supposed. Which meant she just needed to get rid of as much of the pain as possible.

Hobbling over to her couch, she turned on the TV and laid herself out, wedging the ice under her arm, and promptly falling back asleep.

+ —

His phone rang while he was still in the shower. After the meeting from hell, a clear sign that the tech industry wasn't looking to do anything more than the status quo, no matter how much he tried to push, both subtly and otherwise, Chuck needed a shower. A cold one to just get his mind right and to fix the heated mood he was in.

He had to prove that switching up a business model, giving customers better products, making those products accessible, was worth the effort. He had to persuade an entire industry that numbers weren't the most important thing. These next products he put out at more affordable prices would have to make NTI a lot of money. Or nobody else would adopt what he was doing. He didn't want to be the only one. He wanted the industry to change the way people's ideology was changing. They had to keep up, but most importantly, they had to do the right thing.

Thankfully, he'd finished washing his hair and body and was nearly done rinsing off when his phone rang rather than being mid-shampoo.

The meeting had gone long and the NYC subway station he'd tried to use was closed, which meant he'd had to catch a taxi and that had been a pain in the ass too. God, he missed LA and having a car.

Chuck turned off the shower and stumbled out onto his bath rug, drying his hand a little and snagging his phone. He saw it was close to 4:30. Oh no.

He answered, panting. "Hello? Hi. Hi, Sarah?"

"Hi," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Are you…okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, yeah. Totally. Totally fine. Are you okay?"

"I am. I'm waiting out back."

"Out…back…" SHIT. "Of my building?" he asked in a slight panic.

"Um…yes."

"Oh shi-Sure! Okay!" He barely stifled the curse. "A-Are you out on the sidewalk? Are you at the door? Where anybody can see you? Oh no."

"No, no. It's okay. Um, no paparazzi around but I'm not taking my chances. I'm still in the back of my car." There was a pause. "Are you sure you're okay? Are you…not home yet or something? Because it's okay! I should've just called and let you know when I was leaving but…"

"No, I-I told you to tell me when you were here. I, um, yeah…"

"Right."

There was another pause, this one a little more awkward. And then Chuck realized he was totally naked and dripping on the rug. "Let me buzz you in. There's a panel next to the door. You're on the North side of the building, right?"

"I am. I followed your directions to a tee."

Chuck grabbed a towel, trying to dry himself off one-handed. It wasn't working out so he put it on speaker and set the phone on the counter, drying himself off as fast as possible with both hands. "Um. Perfect! Perfect! Okay! I'll…I'll buzz you…in. Just…um…One minute. I hafta…get to the…buzzer thingy…"

"Is it…in a hard to reach place or something?"

"Ha! Haha… Um…no."

"Good. Because I was gonna say you're one of the tallest people I think I've ever met so if you can't reach it, something's wrong."

He laughed genuinely, scrubbing his hair with the towel, snagging his phone, and rushing out into the bedroom of the condo to grab a pair of boxers and pull them on. He smacked his hand on the button to buzz her in. "Okay, come on up."

"Okay. See you soon?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

He heard the click and he sprinted to the suitcase, whipping it open, grabbing jeans, and getting into them as fast as possible, yelling "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!"

And he'd barely gotten them zipped and buttoned when he heard the knock at the door. Grabbing a T-shirt, he called, "Coming!" and put it on as he sprinted out towards the front door. And he just got his belly button covered by the shirt as he opened the door, grinning massively at her. "Hi!"

She raised her eyebrows and smiled, and he was nearly knocked back onto his ass by how gorgeous she was. "Well, hello. You okay?"

"Yeah! Yes. So…so good." And then he saw what she was wearing. Nice black pants, a shimmery silver blouse, and a black blazer. She'd dressed up a little. He looked down at himself and realized his T-shirt had a cartoonish Superman with a knight's helmet that said KryptoKnight… "Shit. I'm…oh. I am not at all dressed…for…" And then he realized she was just standing in the entryway of the condo, and while nobody would be coming to this floor unless they made a mistake, since the floor technically belonged to him for the next couple of days, all they had to do was press the button for this floor and they could potentially see the extra famous supermodel and movie star standing here with him. That was exactly what she made clear she didn't want to have happen. "Come in! I'm so sorry."

She hurriedly stepped inside and he shut the door quickly, locking it. "Thank you."

"Of course. I'm…I'm going to put something on that's more appropriate."

"You don't have to do that," she chuckled. "I don't care. The shirt is pretty cute actually. KryptoKnight. It's funny. I just didn't…know if… I mean…" She gestured to her outfit. God, she was beautiful.

"Right, no. I didn't—Neither of us specified how the…um…" He gestured to his clothes, and then to hers. "I'm going to feel so stupid if I don't change. Honestly."

"Well, I don't want that. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've gone a little more casual? Since we aren't technically going out somewhere."

"Listen, it's been…a hot minute since I've gone on a date, so I'm very rusty. As you can see." He sighed. "Feel free to set down your purse, take your heels off if you want to, YOU DON'T HAVE TO," she widened her eyes at his rushed talking, "and I-I can get you something to drink in the meantime? While I change?"

"Were you in the shower when I called just now?" she asked, amusement on her pretty face. He opened his mouth to dispute it but decided not to when she gave him a knowing look.

He smirked. "Yeah, I, um, I was in the shower when you called. The meeting went later than I expected it to. I misjudged time. Subway station was closed. Taxis were impossible to find. Annnnd I fucked up."

"I knew I shouldn't have rushed over here, like, right at the time you told me you'd be done with your meeting," she said wryly. "I should've given you a few hours."

"No, no! No, it's okay! You came later than I said by, like, an hour anyways! It's not on you. It's on me. But it's fine. It's totally good. I'm clean. A little, erm…damp." He ruffled his damp curls, knowing they stuck up all over the place. "So this is probably the worst you've seen my hair. Apologies for that."

She laughed. "You do realize I saw you half-drowned on the beach the first time we met, right?"

"Oh fair." He laughed with her. "I guess no matter what, I'm never gonna look worse than that."

"Oh shut up," she giggled.

"Drink?" he asked after they shared a smile. He rubbed his hands together. "Water? Soda? Or would you like alcohol?"

"Is it too early for that?"

"Never."

She snorted. "Water for now but I'll change my mind about that at some point."

"Good. Let me get you some water and then you can…make yourself at home, have a seat wherever, and I'm getting out of this stupid T-shirt and these jeans."

Chuck wasn't sure if he was imagining things, but there was a glint in her eye as she shrugged her purse off and set it on the small table by the door, stepping out of her heels and losing a few inches of height. And still, she was the tallest woman he'd ever been on a date with.

When she'd kissed him in that alleyway the night before, he hadn't had to stoop the way he always had to and it had felt pretty good. Granted, that hadn't been the best part, not even close.

And he needed to push that out of the forefront of his thoughts because that wasn't what he needed to be thinking about right now.

He came back with a glass of ice water and handed it to her as she wandered over to the window, peering out over NYC. "Not a bad view, huh?"

"Not at all. Wow." She took the glass from him, their fingers brushing. "Thank you."

"Welcome." He smiled at her, then shook himself a little. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to try to look a little nicer."

"I think you look pretty nice already, for the record."

"Thanks." He blushed. "But I'm gonna—"

"Do what makes you feel comfortable, Chuck. I'm fine here. Take your time."

"Okay. I mean it, make yourself at home."

She nodded and he rushed back into the bedroom, rolling his eyes at himself. Of course she showed up dressed for a date BECAUSE THIS WAS A DATE.

Was he fucking stupid? Was he really this much of a loser?

Almost angry with himself, he hurriedly changed into nice slacks and a dark blue button-up, ducking into the bathroom to try to towel dry his hair and comb sense into it. Sighing, he decided it was the best he could do and straightened himself out a bit, taking yet another deep breath, collecting himself in a way he wasn't able to when she first arrived, and finally going back out to join her.

She was still standing at the large window, looking out at the city in the afternoon sun, her profile lit with light. And he took a moment to just take her in. She was incredible. It was unreal just how gorgeous she was, he thought to himself as she took a sip of her water. The sun played over her golden hair in a way that made her look like she'd been created by a master painter.

And then at the same time, she was the realest person he'd ever met.

Which was crazy, considering she was a model and actress.

Not that they were inherently FAKE, but pretending was a big part of those jobs. Literally.

"You just gonna stand there all afternoon?" she asked, not taking her gaze off of the view outside of the window, a small smile on her face. He didn't know how to answer that, ashamed she'd caught him staring, and when he didn't say anything at first, she turned to look at him, her blue eyes sparkling in mirth. She grinned then. "I'm teasing you." And then her eyes slid down to his bare feet and back up again. "So this is Chuck Bartowski on a date."

He thrusted his arms out to the side as if to say Here I Am. "Um…yep. I definitely feel a lot better now that we sort of match in…fanciness."

Giggling, she moved away from the window and closed the distance between them. "Hello for real?" She gave him a cute shrug, raising her eyebrows and coming up to stand close to him, setting her water down on the table.

Chuck grinned at her. "Hello for real." And then he blushed and winced. "I'm sorry I was such a mess when you first got here, Sarah. I'm not usually…" Then he paused and rolled his eyes. "Okay, I was gonna say I'm not usually this much of a mess, but that's a lie and I don't want to start things off on a lying foot. I am actually kind of a mess when it comes to this sort of thing." He shrugged lamely. "Sit me at a computer, I'll kick ass. Dating? Noooot so much."

She giggled. "Your honesty is refreshing. I'll meet it with a little of my own. Real dating? Like, being on an honest to goodness date without flashbulbs going off in my face? Not something I'm old hat at. So you're in good company."

"So what you're saying is no pressure."

Giggling again, she reached up to smooth a hand down the front of his shirt. Her touch was invigorating. "What I'm saying is no pressure."

And in spite of her saying that, he did feel pressure. Because this was Sarah Walker, and even though the full impact of that was lost on him since he hadn't known about her before she told him who she actually was, the influence she had, knowing now that she was a big fucking deal, paparazzi following her around and all that, he felt an immense amount of pressure not to suck. He felt like he had to do a lot to impress someone who must have dated guys who were also models, actors, guys who looked like art or something.

What he lacked in the looks and crazy sculpted body department, he would have to make up for in providing an exceptional date experience.

He was maybe a little screwed.

Chuck nodded at her, smiling. "Well, then… How hungry are you from a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the hungriest?"

She smiled back, then narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "Well, I had lunch. I'm not exactly at a point where I want dinner. But I guess I'm peckish?"

"I need a number, Miss Walker."

"Okay okay," she laughed. "Um…6."

"Perfect." He stepped back from her and moved to the kitchen, popping open the fridge and grabbing the things he'd bought at the farmer's market before his meeting that morning.

He swung around to put the assorted cheeses and fruits on the counter but found Sarah had followed him. He ran right into her and they both yelped as he barely halted in time not to literally knock her over, instead just bumping into her and jamming a wedge of brie into her arm.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," he rushed out and she burst into laughter.

"Serves me right for stalking you, I guess," she giggled, sliding her hands around his elbows and squeezing. "It's okay. I'm fine."

""Whaddyou mean it's okay? I nearly murdered you with cheese!" he laughed.

She cracked up. "It's not as serious as all that. Anyway, maybe this makes us even after I slammed into you with my board."

Chuckling, he sighed wistfully, reaching around her to put everything on the counter. She shifted out of the way and he lamented the loss of her warmth being pressed near him. "That fateful day." But then he made a face. "Hey, wait a minute. No we are not even. I had a bruise on my shoulder for, like, a week. Do you have a brie-shaped bruise now?" he asked dubiously.

Sarah pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, peering up at him flirtatiously. "I could lift my shirt up for you to check, but you gotta at least feed me first."

The tech CEO felt his breath leave his body and he made a quiet choking sound, trying to recover as fast as he could as she giggled at him, pleasure in her pretty face. "I, uh, I'm…feeding you now." And then he shook his head, furrowing his brow. "I mean, not so…I can see what's under your shirt. I intended on feeding you anyways. Um… phew, wow. I'm gonna shut up now and cut the fruit. How about that?"

Sarah laughed, following him to the counter. "Got another knife?" she asked as he grabbed a cutting knife from the drawer and started slicing the apple. "I can help," she added.

"Yeah. Yeah sure! But you don't hafta."

"It's no problem."

He got her a knife and watched as she worked, her movements deft and clean. Maybe he was a jerk for assuming someone with this much celebrity and fame and success might have people who did this stuff for her, that she wouldn't know how to work a knife or have a driver's license, or…

Yeah, he was a jerk. Definitely.

And why was her skill with a knife so sexy to him?

She slowly lifted her blue eyes to his brown ones. "Are you… okay?" she asked haltingly.

"Uh! Sorry. Yes. I'm cutting…fruit. Yep. You're just really good with that knife."

Chuck saw something significant cross her face, almost a soberness, and then her eyes widened a little and she turned to focus on her work quickly. "Oh. Yeah, I'm okay at it."

He decided to drop it and finish up with the fruit.

They dumped the two kinds of cheese, the apple and pear slices, and strawberries, onto a platter Chuck found deep in the back of one of the cupboards and washed thoroughly.

He carried it over to the nice sitting area near the TV and set it on the coffee table. And as he sat on the settee, he looked up to see her sit right next to him instead of in one of the chairs, in spite of it not being a full-sized couch.

Their arms touching, they both reached over to take their chosen snacks. But they both went for the same strawberry, their fingers bumping.

"Oh come on!" he laughed. "Out of everything on here? Get your own strawberry!"

"I'm the guest," she groused, beaming in amusement. "That strawberry should be mine."

Chuck made a face. "Damn it. You're right. Alright, guest. Have at it," he said with a teasing pout.

She took it and bit into it, chewing with an Mmmmm, making him laugh. But then he found the rest of the strawberry being popped into his mouth. He closed his lips around her finger in his surprise. And she was slow to pull it back out again, her lips pursed and her eyebrow raised.

"Good strawberry," she said quietly, her gaze fastened on his.

"Um…ahem, yeah. Delicious. I think they picked 'em today. Yay farmer's markets, huh?"

She smiled as she chewed on a piece of brie cheese. "So you're a farmer's market man?"

"Definitely."

Pursing her lips, she nodded. "I can't really go to any sort of market unless I wear, like, one of those winter hats with the flaps that cover, like, 80% of your face. And big giant sunglasses."

He took a bite out of a slice of apple. "Would you get swarmed by fans?"

She widened her eyes. "Modesty aside since it's pointless at this point, yup." She sighed. "Honestly, it isn't their fault. And I don't blame them, even if it's a lot. Some days I'm better able to deal with it than others. But I try to…keep smiling."

"Do you go out in disguises often?"

"It's the only way to go into public when your face is as famous as mine," she giggled. And then she shrugged, licking her own fingers this time after eating some of the juicy pear. "And luckily, so many of us live out here that locals mostly ignore folks in baseball caps and sunglasses because who even cares anymore?"

"I love that about this city," he chuckled. "Not that it's ever been a problem for me. If I go to Comic-Con, even, they don't really know my face even if they know my company and my products. But at tech conventions?" He made a scared face, making her laugh. "You ever get annoyed by all of it?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course. But it's just my existence."

"You weren't…" He frowned. "Followed here, were you?"

Raising her eyebrows, she shook her head. "No. Nobody knows the car here. I can get around relatively unscathed and unstalked." She smirked. "Don't worry, you can trust me. I'll keep you safe." She winked.

Chuck snorted. "Oh, I don't care about myself. Let them find me. They'd be like 'Wait, who's this guy? Whatever. Let's go home'."

Sarah threw her head back with a laugh. "Oh come on! That's not true."

"I'm not Brad Pitt."

"Nobody's Brad Pitt but Brad Pitt."

He narrowed his eyes. "You ever meet him?"

"Brad Pitt?"

"Yeah."

"Nah." She shook her head. "Never had the pleasure. We run in, erm, different circles," she giggled.

And then he realized what he was doing and he shook his head, a self-deprecating look on his face. "God, I'm sorry. I'm veering the conversation into the annoying bullshit you probably always get asked by people now."

"No, it's okay," she giggled.

"No it isn't. It isn't. I'm trying to make this like…a break from what you always have to talk about and be around, same stuff you're always having to think about." She gave him a curious look, narrowing her eyes. "It just seemed like you wanted to get away from all of that for a bit when you asked if we could keep out of the public eye for our, um, date. Did I…misread that?"

She gave him a long look. "You didn't," she said quietly. "Are you always so thoughtful, Chuck Bartowski? Or am I just lucky?"

He pressed his mouth with his fingers. "Um. I dunno."

Giggling, she popped a piece of cheese between her lips. "I like you, Chuck," she said once she finished chewing and swallowed. "A lot."

A slow smile grew over his face. "I like you a lot too, Sarah."

+ —

True to his word, the disarming Nerd Company Guy spent the next hour regaling her with stories of his employees at his company, with weird encounters at tech conventions, his run-ins with cult TV show actors and how badly he embarrassed himself.

Sarah Walker discovered that the name of his company was no coincidence. This guy was every bit the nerd the NTI name implied he might be.

She was totally honest with him, admitting complete and utter ignorance of every single comic book thing he brought up, to the point where he finally transitioned into talking about something else. He was impressively subtle and kind about it, without making her feel like she was stupid or anything, without judgment. But she noticed it anyway.

In spite of not having much in common as far as that kind of thing, she could feel how easy the conversation was between them. It felt so comfortable, the air between them both soft and filled with electricity. She'd since shifted on the settee so that she had one leg up on the cushion, her knee pressed against his thigh, facing him better, propping her head in her palm, her elbow on the back of the seat.

She felt like a smile was just permanently fastened on her face, listening to him tell his stories, the way he told them even. He was funny, sometimes downright silly, goofy, and he had no shame about it, letting her see all of him. He was the most genuine person she thought she'd ever met.

And he made her laugh more than she'd laughed in probably the last few years of her life put together.

She even felt comfortable enough to tell him about making the Tabitha Rook series. Her costars and their shenanigans, the director actually showing her respect, and the horror stories she'd heard from other models who'd been recruited into Hollywood for TV and movies.

The way he listened to her.

He paid attention, asked questions. He let out unbridled laughter, filling her chest with warmth.

And as the conversation finally lulled a bit, the platter empty, he clapped his hands together and nodded. "Okay, I know you don't wanna go out into public, and I am completely onboard with that. But how do you feel about rooftop gardens?"

Sarah blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Rooftop gardens. Like a garden on the roof." She tilted her head in confusion. "Okay, don't think I'm nuts. But two days ago when I first checked into this place and 'moved in'" he did bunny ears in the air, "I saw there was a staircase off to the side behind a door next to my elevator so I went through the door and found out that it goes up to the roof. And there's a full-blown garden up there. With weather resistant furniture and, like, oh my god, so much greenery. I thought it'd be this boring grey rooftop with a great view. But it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen and I want to show it to you. If you're game."

A grin grew on her face. She let out a soft breath. "Yeah, okay. Sounds nice."

"Just know, it is a shared rooftop, I'm pretty sure. But I've gone up there a handful of times now and I've yet to see anyone. I even brought my laptop up there yesterday morning to check my email and have my coffee."

She wondered what would happen if they went up and somebody was actually there. After all who took care of the rooftop garden? What time of the day? She'd gone through a gardening kick for a little while, never actually having a garden, never having the time, never quite being in one place for long enough to justify it. She knew they'd die. She'd come home after a shoot in London or a mission in Paraguay, and she'd find brown dead wilted plants all over, dead fruits and vegetables, whatever.

So she knew for a fact that someone had to water them. Somebody had to go up there and prune or whatever. And they probably did it at least once a day if not twice.

"Are you…sure no one is gonna be up there?" she asked.

He gave her a thoughtful look, and she was pleased by the lack of frustration or impatience in his features as if he thought she was being overly paranoid. There wasn't even a hint of that. He was taking her concerns seriously, which…for someone who had almost no insight whatsoever into her world, felt really good for a change.

"Got it." He snapped his fingers. "I'll go up first. I'll scope it out to make sure it's all clear. And then I'll come and get you."

"Deal," she said, smiling.

"Good." He stood up and grabbed the large dish he'd put their snacks on, taking it into the kitchen and sliding it into the sink. She heard the water run for a moment and she got up as well, slowly following him and watching as he carefully put the clean dish in the drying rack. "Okay, be right b—Wait." He looked down. "Shoes. Duh."

She laughed. "Might be helpful."

"Might be." He cleared his throat and giggled sheepishly, gesturing over his shoulder. "I'll go grab my kicks."

Sarah made a face as she watched him dash off, scampering out of view almost like a cartoon character. And when was the last time she'd thought about cartoons? She hadn't watched one of those for over two decades now. She'd been forced to grow up too fast to watch cartoons once she hit a certain age. Before she was 10 even.

And here she'd just talked about something like cartoons, Chuck's comic books, and that anime stuff… And then she'd just thought Chuck was like a cartoon character.

She nibbled on the inside of her cheek, smiling to herself, and she schooled her features quickly as he came back, still tying the sneakers he'd tossed on his feet.

"Okay, sneaks on."

"Sneaks?" she asked.

"Yeah! Sneaks. Sneakers. Kicks. …Shoes." He blushed a little. "Sorry, I'm being—"

"Adorable," she cut in easily, smiling at him. It was almost offensive how adorable he was being. And she didn't want him to be embarrassed for being so unabashedly himself. She wanted him to be himself. She wanted to get to know Chuck Bartowski the man, not the person he assumed she wanted him to be.

He smiled happily at her. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," she giggled. But before he got to the door, she called to him. "Chuck…" He turned on his heel and leaned back against the door smoothly, crossing his arms, his eyebrows raised in question. "Thank you. For humoring me. I mean, for…understanding."

Chuck gave her a quiet smile, his eyes warm. "Of course."

With a wink, he ducked out of the condo, shutting the door behind him.

+ —

She'd never seen anything like this before. Ever. In her entire life.

And she'd seen a lot, especially ever since the CIA press-ganged her into their ranks.

Plants of every sort implanted into pots of all shapes and sizes covered the edges of the roof, stacked against the wall, growing up the water pipes, and there was an atrium type of structure at the end of the roof with vines crawling all over it.

Hopefully the comfortable looking furniture in there was weather proof. She imagined sitting on a non-weather proof couch after heavy storms wouldn't be very pleasant. And New York had enough of that kind of weather to make it questionable.

She shook herself of that thought and instead just quietly inspected the place, stooping to smell flowers, furrowing her brow at strange looking plants. And Chuck just quietly walked around the other side so that they came around and met at the end.

"What do you think? Kind of awesome, right?"

"Who did this?" she asked. "Or I guess who is doing this, because I'm sure it takes a ridiculous amount of work to keep this up."

"It has to," he said, nodding sagely, folding his hands together behind his back. "I don't know who it was. Has to be someone in the building. But since I'm only here for a bit, I don't know much of the goings on here. I just snuck up here one night to sit on the roof and have some quiet time and saw all of this and was just…"

"Floored?" she finished for him.

"Yeah." He sighed, eyes wide. "Floored is a good way to put it. Mesmerized. I don't know a thing about plants," he admitted then, and Sarah stayed quiet, just smiling at him as he moved to one of the potted plants. He gestured to the long strings of different colored flowers coming up from the greenery grandly. "See this? The rainbow flower. The…rainbow stripe flower." He ran his fingers up each row of different colored flower.

She giggled, knowing for a fact that they were hollyhock.

"And this bush is called Sideshow Bob," he said, pointing to a large bush with bright red berries and stems. It looked like an explosion of red. She was pretty sure as she stooped to get a closer look that it was a barberry shrub.

"And this is…" He paused, stepping up to a fern. "Well, it's just a fern, let's move on."

Sarah laughed, charmed out of her mind by his antics. She was enjoying herself so much she didn't even stop to think about how much.

"Oh, and of course, the beloved Oompa Loompa flower."

This time she burst into laughter, grabbing his arm to keep from tipping over. She felt his eyes on her face, the warmth from his gaze, and she blushed just a little bit, crouching slightly, still holding onto him, and inspecting the flowers up close, with their petals of yellow lining a deep reddish orange. "Marigolds," she said quietly.

There was silence for a moment. "What?" he asked then.

"These are marigolds."

"Ooooohhhh, so not Oompa Loompas."

She giggled. "Nope." And then she used his arm again to pull herself up to her full height. "They look nice up against the backdrop of the astilbe."

"The…astilbe?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, those purple flowers coming up from the stalks right there, kind of look like candles?" He looked and nodded. "That's actually part of its name. Purple candles. Astilbe purple candles. It's a kind of perennial. Makes sense they'd have a lot of perennial up here and ferns and stuff like that. Since this probably isn't a very forgiving climate for growing things all the way up here, and on concrete to boot."

She realized he was staring at her finally and she pried her gaze from the plants, looking at him innocently. "What?"

"You, uh, know a lot about plants."

Sarah realized she'd showed her cards without even realizing it. And she was actively embarrassed. "Oh, I, um, I've just read stuff. That's all." The look he gave her was curious, a bit dubious even, as though he wasn't sure if he should ask further, push for a legitimate answer.

She sighed and shrugged. "Okay, fine. This is…embarrassing. So don't make fun of me. Please."

"I won't," he said, furrowing his brow, and she believed him with the way he was looking at her.

"I went through this crazy phase when I was growing up. I don't really know why, but I really just wanted to know everything there was to know about plants and flowers and stuff. So I, um, got my hands on all sorts of books and stuff." She shrugged modestly. "Guess it stuck in my head all these years later. I've already donated all of those books by now, but the words are still here." She tapped her forehead with her pointer finger.

She wouldn't tell him that her mom had scoffed at spending all that money on "flower books" or that when she tried to talk about it with her dad, she got the usual, "Uh, that's great, darlin'…" over the phone. Or that her mom didn't want her messing with any part of the grounds for her little garden, so she planned on escaping when she had enough money to live on her own. And when she did get that money, when she did finally move into her own place with the help of the CIA as well at 18, a place that put some distance between herself and her parents, if only a little, Sarah was too busy for a garden. She was always jet-setting all over the world, if not for her career in the modeling industry, her face and name gaining real traction, then on missions for the CIA. Any plants she might try to grow would die if she was gone for more than a handful of days.

So she'd tabled that trivial little piece of normalcy.

"Okay well… what's this?" he asked, and she saw excitement in his face as he dashed over to a clump of beautiful multicolored flowers with long petals and shoots coming up from the pistil.

"Corona Star," she said easily. "Or I guess you could call it a daylily, too."

"What! Are you just makin' it up? Or do you really know that?" She gave him an affronted look and he held his hands up. "No, you're right, you're right. I'm the idiot who was walking around here calling stuff Oompa Loompa and rainbow stripe."

She giggled as he dashed to another one and pointed, his excitement infectious. She made an awwww sound and drawled, "Cottoneasterrrrrr. I've never seen it in person. Aw, it's beautifulllll." She beamed, looking at it closer. "It's so pretty in person."

"Can you eat those berries?" She shook her head. "Well, then what's the point of 'em?"

Laughing, she rolled her eyes, standing to her full height again next to him. "I don't have the answer to that. Sorry."

Then he pointed again. "Those are pretty. You know what they are?"

"Mhm. Torenias. I think. Hold on, let me look closer." She walked around some pots and felt him close on her heels. They were hanging down from the atrium type structure in a pot. "Oh yeah. It's torenia. See how it kind of comes up like a claw?" She held her arm up and made her hand into a claw.

"Looks like a zombie breaking through the ground." He made a grotesque sound and his arm and hand burst up from his side at her.

She squeaked and took a step back, narrowing her eyes at him, trying not to laugh and encourage him. "Cute. Well, you ruined that, you nerd."

Chuck cracked up. "Okay, that's fair. Sorry. It's just how my mind works."

"Yeah, I know that now," she chuckled. "Weirdo."

"I'm just in awe, though, seriously. That you know so much about plants and flowers. That's amazing." He stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned at her. "I mean, you get more and more impressive the longer this date goes on."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh so this is a date?"

He jolted, looking panicked. "Oh. Um. I didn't—What I mean is…if you don't want it to b—"

Sarah interrupted him with a laugh and grabbed his hand. "I'm teasing," she informed him, and he gave her a self-deprecating look, the tension in him easing. "This better be a da—"

But he cut her off. He leaned in, their hands still folded together, and he pressed his lips against hers. She was so unprepared, she didn't even get a chance to kiss him back or even close her eyes before he pulled back. He looked unsure, as if he didn't know if he should've done that or not…

She wasn't having that. So she slid a hand up to his face and went onto her tiptoes, kissing him this time. He kissed back faster than she'd been able to a moment earlier, and she felt his other hand slide around the small of her back and pull her in closer.

Sarah liked that initiative, even as he demanded nothing from her, his grip gentle, his fingers even playing with hers as they kissed.

She didn't quite know why that in particular did something to her, and she felt a thrill in her chest, a heat pool in her stomach, but the soft tickle of his fingers against hers lit a flame deep inside of her.

Sarah slid her arm around his shoulders then and moved in closer, their fronts pressed together. A headiness awakened in her but before she could kiss him harder and explore the heat that was rising between them, she heard a loud clanging sound from the door that led onto the roof. And then a squeak. A door hinge.

Oh fuck.


Ferns are the plant world's version of Arrested Development's "Her/Egg", let's just be honest. Who's on the roof with them? I'll try to finish the next chapter and finish it when I can. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review or send me a message if that's more comfortable for you. Thank you!

SarahsSupplyCloset