A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: When Chuck and Sarah retreat to their room to discuss matters with the rest of the team, Chuck flashes on a spy cam mounted there, realizing that they are now under observation by an unknown enemy. Things seem to become even more complicated when Sarah checks out the situation - we closed the previous chapter with these words:

Sarah's inspection of their room yielded nothing suspicious besides the camera, but unobtrusively checking the dark night-time terrace instantly changed her mind. She stopped moving and firmly held Chuck in place.

"Don't freak out, Chuck."

Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through.
Somebody's gonna come undone; there's nothin' we can do.
Everybody wants to touch somebody, if it takes all night.
Everybody wants to take a little chance, make it come out right.
There's gonna be a heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know,
There's gonna be a heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know, Lord, I know.
"Heartache Tonight" (Glenn Frey, Don Henley, Bob Seger & John David Souther)

Chapter 13: Chuck & Sarah vs. The Honeymoon Suite (2)

Sarah kept on holding Chuck close to her while she whispered to Casey listening to their microphones.

"Casey, can you understand me whispering?"

"Over the mic in your watch, yes. What's the matter?"

Her low voice was as calm as if she ordered another bottle of Champagne.

"I see at least four people hiding behind the hedgerows that run around our terrace. They don't seem to be in a hurry. Like they're waiting for something. I see only silhouettes behind the hedges, but I can identify one weapon, a Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun."

"That's a mean baby. You sure about that?" Casey asked.

"Positive," she replied, looking into Chuck's eyes soothingly to keep him calm. "It's nestled into the hedge and pointed straight at us. If I hadn't seen the silhouette of the man holding it, I wouldn't have noticed it. "

Casey was all business. "Move out of its way, then. Or… is that a glass front to the outside I see?"

"Yup. We can't move out of sight. Well, not longer than using the bathroom. We are the roast ready for carving right now."

Casey grunted. "Four is too many under the circumstances, Walker."

"Yes, Sarah, that's too many," Chuck supported. "Wait – under the circumstances, does that mean me?"

"No need to tell me," Sarah answered Casey. "Besides, we would compromise our cover – and the mission. If we run and escape, we would end up in the same predicament. Nobody will believe us if we leave our room, well, even, leave our bed, before tomorrow - after the show we put on downstairs. Can I get at least Chuck out?"

"No!" came from both men simultaneously, and Casey vociferated: "What kind of stupid idea is that? You're Samantha Lisa Carmichael, and you'd be better good at that role, as your cover might be the only reason you're still alive. And Charles Carmichael is the key factor selling that cover."

Sarah remained silent, feeling chastised. Casey was talking between the lines about their ongoing argument if she was compromised or not. He evaded calling her out on it literally. Certainly not to spare her feelings, but not to add to Chuck's growing anxiety. So far, this could be interpreted as a young husband's excitement to be alone with his sexy wife, but Casey was right - there was no way to send Chuck away into safety without both of them becoming worthless for the mission.

"So what are we going to do? We only have one bottle of Champagne!" Chuck inquired with a funny sense of practical logic.

"Walker, Bartowski, hang tough. The only good fact I think we can be pretty safe about is, because I can see the people surveilling you, that there doesn't seem to be any other bug in your room. Stay in cover for a while longer. Drink Champagne, or do whatever honeymooners do, without making me barf!" Casey recommended.

"I'm here too," Carina reported.

"Hello, Carina," Chuck politely greeted, to which Sarah rolled her eyes. "How did you get in?"

"No problem. I couldn't enter the banquet hall, but I could come up to Casey's room without problems. We could request support from other agents in the house. Another couple is at 521, FBI. I'm sure we could clean your terrace, but we need a bit more intel what we're facing. Casey's also calling General Beckman now."

"Ok," Sarah confirmed. "We wait… and drink Champagne in the meanwhile."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do either, Walker!" Carina admonished.

"I'm not that type of girl, you know that!" Sarah replied.

"What would Carina do?" Chuck inquired curiously. On second thought, he was glad that his question was ignored.

"C'mon, Charles," Sarah said aloud. "Pour your wife another glass!"

"Certainly, Samantha, certainly. Heeeere you go."

As she held up her glass and he poured, she could see his hand shaking - and her own hand trembled ever so slightly. The long evening of repeatedly being reminded of her former self, Samantha Lisa, and her execrable past, had taken its toll on her as well. She took a small sip and calmingly rested her other hand on his chest. "Don't be nervous. All will be OK. Don't look out onto the terrace, stay close to me, and talk to me loud enough to bolster up the cover."

Chuck had not missed that she was not as icily cold as usual. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Sarah lied, knowing quite well what made her unbalanced. She prepared to tell him that it was none of his business as everything related to Samantha Lisa was buried deep in her past, but their earbuds came alive again:

"I can't get the agents in 521 to answer. I'm going up checking their room. In the meanwhile, be a good girl, Sarah!" Carina signed off for the time being.

Chuck felt her tense. "What is it, Samantha?" he asked.

She lied again in answer to his question. "Nothing. I'm contemplating how we can get you out of here if it becomes necessary," and aloud, she replied: "The bubbles tickle my nose."

"Aw, poor girl. Let me kiss the tickle away!" he said and moved closer.

"Hey, my makeup. I'm still wearing my best mask!" Sarah protested and bent her head away from him.

"You never put down your mask, do you?" he asked both as Chuck and as Charles and closed the distance altogether.

"Don't you dare to lick my nose!" Sarah warned with a light laugh, ignoring the underlying meaning in his words.

He made a slurping sound: "How did you know I wanted-"

"You had that impish look on your face, I know that look, don't deny it!" she still laughed.

"Guilty as charged," he grinned.

Why was it so easy to talk nonsense with him and have fun? She wasn't the person to fool around on a mission. Chuck broke down her defenses so smoothly it frightened her. It was innocent bliss to act like that, but it was dangerous. While it was suitable for the mission, it was not so beneficial for herself, because she incarnated her nickname, The Ice Queen, in all aspects of her life, including her personal one. Leaving that trusted path produced unrest in her that could quickly worsen and threaten all she was.

"Walker!" Casey was back. "I'm cycling through all cams to see if anywhere something's going on."

"Guys," came Carina's voice. "I'm in 521. There was a fight. The female agent is dead; 10mm caliber, I guess. The male agent was obviously kidnapped. There are drag marks of heels on the carpet, and I think of a laundry cart," she added after a pause.

"Beckman says to keep the cover going for a couple of minutes more. If they see you holding hands, sipping Champagne and talking your silly nonsense, they'll buy the deception and leave you alone sometime soon, hopefully anyway. She said she's aware of the Intersect being in danger, but pulling him out now by an escape from the room or trying to remove the folks on your terrace forcefully would make Walker useless for the rest of the mission," Casey reported.

"I see a pattern here," Chuck murmured, and Sarah could hear the growing worry in his voice. "Three male agents are missing, the female partner of two of them killed. They are going for the male agents and don't care about the women."

"Could they be looking for the seller's stooge?" Carina interjected. "Or did we run into something completely different? You two better sell your cover well until we know more."

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Chuck began to understand his own words. "If that's the pattern, then they will kidnap me and try to kill Sarah. What are we gonna do? We can't risk that, we need to do something quick, but what? Do we run as fast as we can out of the room? What?"

This time, there was no doubt that he was spiraling in great alarm.

"Shit," Casey simply bellowed into their ears.

"What is it? What, Casey?" Chuck asked nervously immediately.

An unhappy growl preceded Casey's next words. "There is another hotel room that is set up as an observation room. One of the places the CIA bugged, just on suspicion, is a suite booked by a syndicate from Ukraine."

"Where would they get the money to buy an atom bomb?" Carina wondered. "They are chronically bankrupt."

"From the European Union," Casey growled. "They are pumping in money like there's no tomorrow to keep the Russians out."

"That won't work," Carina stated. "If the Russian Bear wants to get a foot into someone's door, he will."

"Folks, can we stop this nonetheless fascinating discussion and Casey, tell us what they observe in that suite, please," Chuck reminded everyone. He was a bit jumpy. Casey's next word had the impact of a hand grenade going off.

"You!"

"What?" Chuck hissed and would have spilled some champagne if Sarah hadn't steadied his hand.

"I can see two monitors. I see both of you and hear you if you talk loud enough. On the other monitor, there's another room, and the two I see there look like one the FBI couples I identified earlier."

There were a few long moments of heavily loaded silence.

"You know what's strange – these guys in the Ukrainian suite are all American. I can understand them. They speak without any accent. Hold on … they are talking about you guys!"

Sarah felt Chuck tense up and put a hand on the back of his neck, drawing him closer, while feeling quite uneasy herself. Chuck would have shivered at her touch, but the situation was anything but romantic.

"They are wondering when you two will… well, consummate your marriage."

Chuck heaved a sigh. Before he could start to babble, Casey was on again, obviously checking on the other "Ukrainian" monitor what was going on as well.

"Yeah, it's the FBI. The couple dropped their cover and currently discuss an uneventful evening. He… just a sec… one of the Ukrainian observers calls someone via phone and is reporting. I can clearly hear him say that the couple in room 704 are enemy agents…"

The tension heightened. Chuck had a vague premonition he did not like.

"Can you reach them?" he asked, but the reply was a pained grunt.

"Where are you, Carina?" Casey inquired. "The guy on the phone said to go in, get the man out, and make sure the woman won't be able to talk about it."

"I'm on my way, but I'm coming from 521, and it's two floors up."

For a few seconds, they heard Carina pant and obviously taking giant, hurried leaps upstairs. But things developed much faster than they could react. They heard Casey draw in his breath sharply.

"Five masked men stormed the room," he reported.

"So, they waited just as they are waiting outside our room?" Chuck asked, almost too loud. "Where did they come in from? They couldn't have waited in the hallway, all armed? Is there a balcony? Casey?"

Casey disregarded him. "Carina? They could use support. The fight is quite uneven."

"I'm on the seventh, I'm almost there."

The ensuing silence was filled only by Carina's quick breathing. Then Casey's voice sharply came back on the air.

"Carina, stay back, stay back! The FBI girl is dead, stabbed. Didn't have a chance. They obviously tranqued the guy and are going out the window with him. The camera doesn't give me a view there, but I see hooks. They probably rappel down. Holy fuck, what kind of operation is this? That puts us to shame."

"What should we do now?" Chuck spoke under his breath, now visibly trembling. "And where's that damn car?"

"What car?" Sarah exasperatedly asked.

"The car I should stay in whenever it gets dangerous!"

She did not even waste an eye-roll on his words.

"Casey, they must have been in a room nearby. There is no other explanation of how they got to the FBI pair so fast in combat gear. Whatever they are looking for, we need to get the Chuck out!" Sarah urgingly said. "I'll handle it somehow."

"Negative," Casey came back as Chuck whispered a stern, "No!"

Before a discussion started, Casey continued his disheartening report.

"They're turning their attention to you again… the man with the phone is talking to someone. He says… shit, they're laughing… he says that it's suspicious that you still stand there sipping Champagne… shit… " – it was becoming Casey's favorite word quickly – ".. that you're not… uhm… having sex after being too horny to attend the rest of the evening."

"I knew we'd been watched. But there were so many eyes tonight that it was impossible to sort it all out," Sarah sighed defeatedly.

"The thug on the phone is listening to someone… ok, call ended, he put his phone away. Now he turns to his own speaker set… he tells someone to stay in position and wait for his orders."

"Oh my God, these must be the people out there!" Chuck whispered.

"He says to be prepared that if you're not making whoopee anytime soon, they would have to repeat the procedure – get the man out, and the girl mustn't be able to report what happened."

"Oh no, oh no, no, no, no," Chuck fired out a series of breathed "No's".

"We can't let that happen! What should we do now?" Then he added with amazement: "He said making whoopee?"

"Moron, you better get into bed and play the charade. Maybe they will stop surveillance if you're going to bed together," he said without much conviction, and added: "Hurry up, these guys are impatient."

"Samantha Lisa," Chuck reluctantly took the initiative with an edgy, uneasy undertone, grasping her glass and putting it on the tea wagon, as well as his own. "Will you be a good girl now and follow your husband – I have a promise to keep to the Governor!"

She looked up at him, strangely confused and disturbed. And angry at no one in particular, possibly mostly herself, for slowly losing control over her emotions.

What is going on with me? What's going on with Samantha Lisa? Sarah cursed. Get your act together, Walker! Chuck needs to survive, and the mission is too critical to abandon. And it's Chuck, your Chuck. Your Chuck? Get your act together before you dream about towels embroidered with "his" and "hers".

She distinctively discerned that she had put Chuck first and not the mission.

As Sarah looked into his eyes, she anticipated that whoever was threatening them would not stop his observation if they lamely lay in bed next to each other. Will I be forced to sleep with him for the cover and for the mission? That will most probably save the Carmichaels but destroy all hope for Chuck and me.

"Fuck!" she muttered under her breath.

"Exactly!" Carina exuberantly confirmed.

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (2) Whether you share Sarah's or Carina's outlook on the things to come, you are free to leave a review.