A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: Chuck and Sarah, as the newlywed Carmichaels, attend a posh dinner in a hotel in Santa Monica. They join the Governor of California and his family, trying to find out if any one of them is involved in the a-bomb threat they are investigating.
Wouldn't it be nice,
If every eye could be so blue?
If every smile could be so true,
Wouldn't it be nice?
Wouldn't it be nice,
If you could wear my ring someday?
And we would hear the people say,
Wouldn't it be nice?
"Wouldn't It Be Nice" (Johnny Rutter aka Johnny Rhythm)
Chapter 10: Chuck & Sarah vs. The Killer Tomatoes
Sarah's moan was low, but it wouldn't be an unusual sound for newlyweds exploring their fresh and exciting marriage. Her eyes rolled back into her head in pleasure until Chuck pulled his hand away. She opened her half-closed eyes and was about to tell him not to stop when she realized everyone was staring at her.
Governor Kowalski was the first to chuckle, which elicited laughs from everyone else at the round table. "I'm pretty sure Charles is a pretty lucky fellow," Ginger was the first to find her voice. "Bastard. Lucky bastard," Gene corrected. Sarah did not need to force herself to blush. "I certainly am," Chuck rushed to her help.
•••••••••••••••••••
Returning to their table after the intermezzo of the wanna-be and impeded Casanova, she found Chuck in deep conversation with the Wodsons. As it turned out, he had not talked much with anyone else and found out even less.
As Ginger predicted, the talk at the table had been business for most of the time. That was to no small part owed to the fact that the Governor had a long series of visits from international business people and politicians. The unassuming but lively backdrop the Carmichaels provided contributed considerably to the first tentative efforts at small talk running smoothly. Their obvious infatuation with each other caused knowing winks and jovially raised eyebrows between the Governor and his guests. Chuck flashed numerous times, but he never gave any sign that it was anything significant.
In between, Casey reported to their earbuds that both he and Carina had moved into his command center in room 203.
The latter, after having been briefed by Sarah the moment Gene Kowalski had left her for her call to her parents, actually found the haggard man leaving Gene Kowalski's room.
After applying VIP treatment to the man for less than a minute, he invited Carina to his room, boasting that he and Gene had a very profit-yielding under-the-hand trade of Cuban cigars running. It was so successful that they smuggled the cigars by the suitcase, using Kowalski's enormous photo equipment as a means. The moment the secret was revealed, Carina's hand slipped from the man's neck. She told him she remembered that she had to clip her nails and left him high and dry.
As Casey reported all that in a voice as emotionless as a barrack's cleaning report from a Marine training camp, all Sarah and Chuck could do was to put their foreheads together and snicker.
"So, the movie has been proven wrong," Chuck whispered, "Swedish chicks don't dig terrorists." Sarah's eyes showed amusement. She had no idea what movie he was talking about, but his never-ending supply of movie quotes had caught up with her. Sometime in the past year, she began to like it – unless he rushed out with a quote in the most inappropriate moment.
Olivia Wodson shook her head in amusement and patted her husband's hand. "We had once been like that, snickering about secret things only we could understand." Samuel gave her a surprised look. "Why, Olivia, we still do, but nowadays, we don't understand what we laugh about ourselves."
Everyone was saved from commenting on that quip when dessert was finally served.
"Oooh, mousse au chocolat, I love that. My hips don't!" Sarah whispered to Chuck, which earned her a mysterious grin. Loving mate that he was, he fed Sarah with a spoonful.
•••••••••••••••••••
That was the moment when she moaned from the sensation of the mousse that turned out to be of chocolate, coffee, and Rye whiskey. The ground coffee beans took some of the sweetness from the chocolate, and the Rye added a distinctly fruity and dry flavor. She knew she had been played by Chuck, and that he had followed up on her Rye choice at the beginning of the evening, apparently convincing the Chef de Maison to alter tonight's dessert on the fly. Sitting at the Governor's table had its perks.
Sarah neatly licked the spoon clean of every tiny remnant of the mousse. She noticed with content that Chuck's hand slightly shook before she took a long breath to calm down, enduring the good-natured tease with a sheepish grin.
Then she reciprocated the gesture and fed him, and Chuck had everyone in stitches within moments. He put the back of one hand on his forehead, the other hand just below his neck, wrinkled his brow, and made a production number out of trying to fight to moan like Sarah.
We play well together, she mused. It felt natural to prolong the show by leaning into Chuck and kiss him softly. For an eternal second, her lips tenderly met his. She eventually let go with fluttering eyes, which she didn't have to act. Not wanting to make Chuck and her appear as lewd, she leaned back, licking her lips and almost shyly glancing down at her dessert, picking up a decorating mint leaf.
It gave her a few seconds to realign herself. She enjoyed this mission way too much, and allowed too often that her feelings for Chuck came to the surface. That's not good on a mission. Additionally, those pleasant feelings came with a price – her hideous past, safely stored away in her mind, never digested, never gotten out of her system properly, was breaking free and beginning to influence her self-control and her concentration. Up until now, Agent Walker was still in command. Woefully, the girl who had strong feelings for Chuck and the girl she once had been fought for dominance. But ever since her revelation when fending off Gene Kowalski's advances, she knew that she could not fight herself and that the conflicting voices all were her own.
She eventually raised her eyes again, adding a touch of nervousness as if she was afraid to have gone too juicy with her husband, but everyone except Gene simply smiled with warmth.
To her delight, she noticed that Chuck was struggling to determine where the act ended and reality began. Sarah did not want to think about the ramifications of their cover performance as, for the first time ever, she loved it. But she anticipated that once the cover roles weren't needed anymore, it would be tough on Chuck to go back being the asset. For her, the only drop of bitterness was that, unknown to Chuck, there was a third person with them: Samantha Lisa. For a year now, Sarah's mental dungeon seemed to be ever so slowly decaying under the influence Chuck had on her. Living without emotions had kept the dungeon safe and locked, but the past year, there were moments of weakness when Samantha Lisa could swing her mighty claws and hurt the person outside.
But all too soon, it would be over anyway. The threat dangling over their heads would again determine their thoughts and actions. It was Casey who brought them back to the mission as their earbuds came alive after a long silence.
"Sorry to interrupt your lovey-dovey moment, but I guess you saw the big fellow with the short red hair up on the balcony, on the right side, earlier."
Sarah noticed that there were quite a few people who clandestinely screened the crowd throughout the evening, some of them obviously alphabet soup people, others most probably not. Some did their job better; some were easy to identify. No one had taken action, but it seemed everybody was waiting for someone or something. Sarah had seen the man Casey referred to, but now he was gone.
"He's ATF," Casey explained without waiting for confirmation – they could not start talking with him while sitting at the table anyway. "My liaison there informed me that he's missing. His partner, on the left balcony, also is missing. They were last seen together. They also were here as husband and wife."
Casey had earlier reported that two agents who were sent to take care of the haggard man and his cargo of Cuban cigars were missing as well. Four missing agents were a significant problem, but was it connected to the a-bomb case, and if yes, how?
As the evening seemed to come to an end, and the Governor ordered a nightcap, he directly turned to Sarah.
"Samantha, I want to thank you and your husband for entertaining us all evening long," he began with a bonhomous chuckle, "You might not have noticed, but my guests were very much enthralled by the young couple at my table. It's not a secret to say that doing business successfully is very much about setting people at ease in the first place, and I didn't have to strain myself tonight as you two took over that task."
"Is this when you try to hire them?" Robert interrupted while pointing at both, "Because I'll offer twice what dad offers."
As the merriment died down, the Governor knocked on the table and waited until he had everybody's attention.
"You are so madly in love, and for half of the evening, I wondered how you met. If you don't mind, tell us your story."
Sarah's gaze wandered to Chuck. Chewing on her lower lip, she pondered how to proceed. Chuck had shown no signs of insecurity so far. Actually, the one exception to their flawless performance had been her following Gene Kowalski. She still had some explanations to deliver, which would come anything but easy, but Chuck had not appeared in any way disturbed when she returned. He picked up their game as if she had never left his side. Since at least Robert and Ginger watched them as if they expected a Vaudeville double act, Sarah decided that she should have Chuck improvise the story, and she would follow and support him.
She quickly checked the other faces, but everyone seemed to be comfortable to hear about something other than import, export, jobs, taxes, and economy in general. She scooched over to Chuck.
"You asked for it," she smiled exaggeratedly to no one in particular and patted Chuck's hand. "Where do we start, Sweetie?"
His boyish grin gave away before he spoke that he was about to deliver some utter nonsense, but she didn't stop him and waited like everyone else.
Chuck took a deep breath and proclaimed with a serious voice: "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..."
Robert Kowalski guffawed, and within the blink of an eye, the two men high-fived. The others looked on, amused but clueless. On the other hand, Sarah was well-trained from cover evenings spent movie-watching. She recognized what Chuck was quoting, and shoulder-bumped him, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"My big nerd, you," she cooed. "Is that a hint to wear my metal bikini tonight?"
Robert audibly gulped, his eyes flickering between Sarah and his fiancée. "You've got a Princess Leia outfit and wear it for him?" he gushed without thinking before defensively raising his hand. "I'm sorry, that's quite a rude question. I shouldn't have…"
"Yup," Sarah replied nonetheless, popping the p with relish, innocent mirth contradicting her words, "but usually, not for long."
Robert helplessly glanced at his fiancée, who shrugged her shoulders. "If you don't mind, tell me where you got it, later," she commented, sharing a knowing look with Sarah – men!
The happy wife prodded Chuck, who seemed equally paralyzed by her words. "You might skip the prequel. What do you think, sweetheart?"
"Aren't we here for the whole weekend?" he mockingly complained.
"We four were camping," he began.
"He doesn't tolerate alcohol very well, doesn't he?" Gene teased and, for the umpteenth time, appraised Sarah's body. "Californian wine isn't that strong, Charles, but it seems you're seeing double already."
On Chuck's scale, Gene Kowalski shared a spot with foot fungus, way below being hugged by Jeff after his third six-pack and just slightly above being sucked into a black hole. He could wholeheartedly confirm that he did not like the man but smiled good-naturedly nonetheless.
"No, actually, two and two others, and that.. tadaa! … makes four. There were Samantha Lisa and her boyfriend, and my fiancée, Jill, and me."
•••••••••••••••••••
(Flashback, unknown place and time)
"Samantha Lisa, come over to me!" the man says softly. "Time for your reward!"
"I don't want to," she says, feeling sick. His voice becomes austere.
"Samantha Lisa, you'd better be a good girl. You know what happens if you don't do as you are told!"
Pushed by mindless fear gripping her heart, she obeys and does not pretend that she likes it. It's not so much what happens - it's the memory of what happened a long time ago.
•••••••••••••••••••
If I only could make him stop calling me by my real name all the time, this evening would be so perfect it should be real, Sarah thought. Hm, besides an atom-bomb somewhere.
"Oops!" Robert could be heard. "That sounds frivolous."
"You haven't heard anything yet - not so much frivolity, but drama," Chuck assured. "Jill and I decided to go camping and went to Springville. While I'm not so much the weatherbeaten adventurer, these River Site grounds at the Tule River are beautiful, the river only a few yards from our tent."
"That's near the Sequoia National Forest, right?" the Governor asked, and Chuck nodded with a smile before shortly checking if Sarah was listening.
"The same time, Samantha and her then-boyfriend … Bruce went there too."
Chuck made sure he slipped in the same tiny pause Sarah made when she mentioned a false name for Bryce on their first date at the Mexican restaurant. After Carina had told him about Bryce and Sarah about a year ago, he quickly understood that Sarah had lied about the name of her ex.
Sarah shot him a wild look. What are you doing? I can't erase Bryce from my past. Actually, I don't want to. Fate gave me Bryce, so I recognize true love when it comes my way later. Now fate only needs to provide me with the courage to tell Chuck I love him.
She imitated Casey and grunted. "I'm an outdoor girl, but like Charles, … Bruce wasn't really the type."
"You need to work on your grunting. I've heard more impressive ones," Chuck sneaked in nonchalantly. "I met Samantha Lisa in the afternoon, well, to be correct, first, I met her tomatoes."
He bounced his eyebrows at her invitingly. Sarah couldn't believe it. She gave him the approval to tell the story on his own, but he invited her to develop a story none of them knew on the fly together. That was quite a challenge. Well, buster, you asked for it, she thought and honestly grinned at him.
"I prepared dinner for the campfire in the evening. The caveman took care of the meat, and I had a basket full of vegetables."
"Bruce!" Chuck interjected as some eyebrows turned into question marks at the word caveman. Sarah's expression said, who else, and she carried on.
"I put the cocktail tomatoes in a plastic bowl on a camping table. There was this ugly fat horsefly that was circling my vegetables. I put the zucchinis on the table, a cucumber, red peppers, well, vegetables."
"Anything except olives," Chuck added.
Sarah shot a piercing look at him. Remember, Charles Carmichael, what I told you about a cover personality - easy to maintain, close but not too close to the truth. You make me nervous, Chuck. Flying too close to the sun might melt your wings, and you may slip and mix up real life and cover story!
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"That big fly kept pestering me. I was a bit enervated when I saw it landing at the other end of the table."
Samuel Wodson, who had rested his chin comfortably on his right hand, moved that hand to cover his eyes but glanced between his fingers at Sarah, while he slightly shook his head as if to express I-know-what's-coming. Sarah nodded so vigorously that her hair was flying, and strands came loose and danced in front of her face.
"Yup, with oomph and gusto! I took off one of my sandals and smashed it with both hands on the edge of the, as I should mention, rather frail-looking table as hard as I could."
She mimicked holding something in both hands and hitting it on the table.
God, is she good, Chuck thought. She has beauty and grace, she is funny no matter what she claims, got fabulous timing… is there anything Sarah can't do? Every minute I'm with her, I could fall in love anew.
He sighed in admiration and despair simultaneously.
To be honest, I already do, but it's a pretty one-sided love-affair.
"Like a catapult, the collapsing table sent all my vegetables airborne with amazing force, exactly when Charles strolled along," Sarah merrily snickered, her arms moving wildly in the air above her. Then she froze in rapt silence as Chuck began to sing.
Heaven, what is he doing now?
"I was walking along, minding my business, when out of an orange-colored sky, flash, bam, alakazam, a tomato hit my eye," he sang with an inexperienced yet pleasant baritone.
Olivia Wodson gasped in surprise. "Sam, such a young man, and he would know Nat Cole!" she was enthralled. Chuck smiled sheepishly and admitted, "I know that this was Nat King Cole, now, but to be truthful, I learned that song from the Muppet Show."
Before anyone could make a quip about Sarah, who was gazing at him like she had an epiphany, Chuck gently brought her still raised arms down and continued.
"Unless you want to applaud, you can put down those hands," he said. "Anyway, it was a veggie artillery attack. One tomato hit me on the chin, two on the chest, another one swished past my right ear, a zucchini landed right in front of my feet, and some other healthy stuff filled the air."
Sarah waited until the snickering died down.
"I saw all that happening in slow motion."
She couldn't suppress a chuckle that betrayed her words. "I was so horrified!"
She gave up fighting the laughter and shook her head, reliving the moment that had never happened. "Actually, it was pretty hilarious."
At this moment in Chuck's life, the biggest mystery surrounding Sarah Walker was the question why she was a CIA agent. That directly led to an equally prodding brain-twister: Why was someone with her boundless talents not the brightest star on the silver screen, collecting Academy Awards instead of knives?
Chuck again took over their fabricated love story as if they had a script.
"I crouched down to pick up the missiles, and as my other hand slowly filled with vegetables, a shadow fell over me."
Sarah earnestly smiled at him. She knew for sure that she never enjoyed any part of a mission so much. If only Chuck was a real agent, a real partner – like Bryce never had been. We could have so much fun. Her mind wandered to the yet unused honeymoon suite as fleeting thoughts of other fun occupied her imagination. She shook herself clear of the vision. Whoa, Walker, slow, the man has no clue that you have no clue how to tell him that you want him.
Chuck had noticed her short absent-mindedness and continued.
"I searched for vegetables when suddenly two naked feet came into my view, one with, one without a sandal. Then my gaze fell on enticing ankles and endless legs, the latter clad in tight black jeans. As I slowly raised my eyes even higher, I realized that I was looking at a very female example of the human species and that I really, really, shouldn't gawk at every single inch. So I quickly brought my eyes up all of those, as I know now, five feet nine. She had the sun in her back, so her face was kind of darkened."
Having spoken lively to the other people at the table, Chuck now turned to Sarah. Something in his eyes that she could not decipher was making her alert. All at once, she anxiously waited for him to proceed.
"But what I saw was blonde hair that, from the sun behind her, shone like gold, like a princess in a fairytale."
Sarah fought hard to keep a vulnerable expression from her features.
How cruel is that? How do you know that, once upon a time, there was a girl named Sam that wanted to be treated like a princess?
She stared at him as if he could hear her thoughts.
But it's too late. I exorcised her a long time ago. What remains of Samantha Lisa is following me like a zombie, trying to catch me and pull me down into the abyss of my former life.
She shivered inwardly. Samantha Lisa had been buried for good, and now she was back from the dead like a mummy that patiently awaited her reawakening in her tomb. Revived by Sarah's own fault when she let her heart thaw, when she allowed herself into the beautiful, frightening world of emotions – emotions caused by a guy who didn't even sense how deeply she was affected.
Was it you, my sweet nerd, who set Samantha Lisa free? Was it you whom I thought to be my rescue who turns into my doom?
Chuck slowed down his speech, and his voice turned tender. Sarah knew that something was about to happen. The nervous energy inside her, produced by the mission, by being with Chuck, and by fighting the memories of past years, reached a new peak. She breathlessly listened to what he said.
"And there, gazing down at me with barely concealed glee, were the most radiant, alluring eyes I've ever looked into. I saw innumerable and unnamed hues of blue, sparkling like they were powered by the sun itself, and… and… and… my mind locked up. Like a broken record that repeats the same line of music, again and again, all I could think of were those eyes, becoming the whole universe for me, completely engulfing me - the alpha and omega of my life irrevocably changed in that instant. I couldn't look away from her. I thought if I did, I would suffocate because I needed those eyes to live just like I need the air that I breathe."
Sarah didn't dare to look at anyone else at the table as she comprehended what she couldn't decipher earlier. It was not Charles Carmichael talking, it was Chuck Bartowski, and he did so deliberately. He selected that moment to declare his love when Agent Walker could not push him back, ignore him or keep him in his place with a non-committal answer. It was a pretty shrewd move, worthy of an agent.
Still, he was a gentleman through and through and selected a moment in their imaginary love story when both had been with someone else, when she, Samantha Lisa, was with Bruce, when Charles Carmichael was with Jill. He gave her the freedom to guide the story away from that moment, and from his words especially, without acknowledging it. While their fairytale had to have a happy ending – they wouldn't be able to tell the story otherwise – he offered her to ignore him and to sketch out the journey leading to their marriage differently, not too close for comfort.
Sarah returned his gaze.
God, that expression in his eyes. It is… how can I say "it is"... it must be… no, I can't say "it must be" either, how should I know how it looks, I never saw it before … it could be love. And there is… there is the fear of rejection. He tries to hide it, but he fails. It is upon me how to deal with it on multiple levels – him, myself, the audience we got.
A few days ago, on their ill-fated Colt-interrupted date, she was about to seduce him and take him up to her room. It never happened, but she remembered the soft determination she felt back then. Why was it suddenly so hard to reply with a heartfelt sentiment to his words?
Sarah knew the answer. She was infamously bad with honest words. It was an alarm signal that it happened on a mission. Honesty and spy work weren't meant to match. She should ignore his declaration of love, push the story along, and try to find out what little they could find out in the last minutes of the evening. Instead, she firmly locked eyes with him.
"I looked down at this guy. He didn't speak one single word, and his mouth was wide open, so I realized it would probably take some time until he would find his voice again."
"As you probably can guess, I made a hell of a first impression, crouched at her feet, looking like an idiot and probably drooling from the mouth," Chuck inserted self-deprecatingly. Sarah shook her head but otherwise ignored his words.
"I don't know for how long, probably only seconds, but I was happier than ever in my life, sinking deep into his magnificent brown eyes like he hypnotized me. It wasn't the moment, the place, or the time. It could have been anywhere, anytime. What was important was him. I just could have walked into a cheap electronics store, like, a Buy More, and ran into him - I would have been caught as well. I stood there and had trouble speaking myself, but the funny situation eventually made me come to my senses."
She forced herself to check the faces of the Kowalski clan to be sure they had their attention. Doing so, she missed Chuck's eyes growing wide over her words. Did she really…? he wondered nervously. Suddenly he surmised how risky this game was, his mind drifting between their cover identities and their real lives. That's why she is a different person when she is on a mission.
But he hadn't missed her reference to the Buy More. His mouth went dry as he assumed that she figured his little speech out – and that she replied in the same double-layered way. He watched her closely, but she acted the excited young wife perfectly and did not give him any additional hints about her words.
"I reached out my hand, put a finger under his chin, and closed his mouth. Then I applied a little pressure, and he jumped up as swiftly as a dolphin jumps out of the water at San Diego's Sea World."
Chuck finally had found his voice again.
"Though not as elegantly, as I almost dropped what I had collected. I could feel the touch of Samantha's finger on my chin for hours. I finally managed to say something, but the first words we exchanged weren't for the history books."
Ginger bubbled merrily, "Now, what did you say?"
Chuck preceded his next words with a self-mocking shrug.
"I asked, These are your killer tomatoes?, and she chuckled, Yes, they are, but did you possibly see a zucchini flying by?"
Ginger couldn't hold back her laughter anymore.
"You two are so cute I can't wait to hear the rest of the story."
Chuck was taken aback by her words as he realized how easily he could envision the scene they invented. He breathed through the nose and pursued the plot again.
"I picked up all I could find, including the sandal she used as a weapon, and handed everything over to her, reminding her not to put the sandal on the grill."
•••••••••••••••••••
A/N (2) Swedish chicks dig terrorists: Quote from the movie "Gotcha!" (1985)
A/N (3) Tule River camp sites: If anyone knows these, bear with me as I've never been there and took some liberties in this and the next chapter.
A/N (4) Orange Colored Sky: A popular song, written by Milton DeLugg and Willie Stein. The best-known version of the song was recorded by Nat King Cole in 1950, but as Chuck explains, as sung by Lynda Carter, it also made The Muppet Show, and you can find both versions on YouTube. But, of course, neither singer was hit by tomatoes.
A/N (5) Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: American parody film (1978), that, while intended as a spoof of B movies, is so bad that it achieved cult status and the dubious honor of being one of the worst movies of all time.
A/N (6) Well, you know it by now. If you have something to say, write a review. Don't send it to NBC, send it to me.