A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: General Beckman orders Chuck and Sarah to take care of their cover marriage and spend Friday afternoon at the beach. After Sarah's bikini fashion show in their hotel room, it is finally time for some cover-fun at the beach.
A/N (2) This chapter describes a fluffy situation. You may consult Dr. Carner before proceeding.
Girls goin' swimming,
Girls in bikinis,
A walkin' and wigglin' by, yay, yay, yay
Girls on the beaches,
Girls, oh, what peaches,
So pretty, Lord, I could cry.
"Girls! Girls! Girls!" (Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller)
Chapter 21: Chuck vs. The Bikini
Sarah waded into the surf, dragging Chuck after her. She exuberantly skipped ahead. While it was not her intention, she was the epitome of the happy-go-lucky alluring beach girl, evoking a kaleidoscope of emotions in Chuck. Being himself, he saw much further than the generous amount of skin she displayed. She was a ravishing beauty, but he also felt a tremendous elation over how she enjoyed herself. It was a rare treat to see Agent Walker so carefree.
Being deep in thought and running along the beach weren't the best activities to combine. Consequently, Chuck lost his footing when Sarah dodged a brunette girl just coming back to the beach with a slight move to the left and then again to the right to take up the course again to wherever she wanted to go.
It's just a jump to the left, and then a step to the right, but ah, what these are doing to her frame.
Trying not to ogle her sealed his fate. He stumbled into the ankle-deep water and fell to his knees. She turned back as she lost his hand, offering him an innocent laugh and the zealous beam of her eyes as she realized that she, the unfunny non-cannibal, could deliver a jolly quip.
"You don't need to propose - we're already married!"
He remained where he was, featuring a faux accusing expression.
"Charles, this follows the same rules as on solid ground – watch your step!"
She helped him up. He somberly gazed at her. "I did."
"What happened?"
"This happened," he explained with a vaguely semi-circular gesture that seemed to point at her behind. "Was that necessary?"
She enjoyed their game very much and was elated that he took up some of the flirting too. She twisted back and looked down at herself. "My ass happened?"
"Look, Sa-, anyway, look. I'm trying hard to play my role as the happy husband, but I'm only human," he said with a hardly concealed grin. "I wasn't prepared for you to get all flirty. Again. Not to bore you with my feelings, but when you turned over onto your tummy and asked me to put that sunscreen on your back and undid your top and then said I should take care of all of your backside… sorry, it got that hot I needed some healing ointment to take care of the blisters on my fingers..."
Sarah looked very pleased with herself, although she had to admit - to herself only - that she was getting rather fidgety when he followed her wish and took care of her back. My luck that I could hide my face putting it on my arms! His hands touching me were... were... I don't know... I just want more...
"And did you have to moan when I applied the lotion on your legs? At least it was low enough that we didn't pick up an audience."
You don't know what you're doing to me, Sarah, Chuck thought, enjoying it in a strange way. You really don't know. I know we're playing, but playing with you is playing with fire, and I admit you play so much better... oh, ah, just a sec... you know what you're doing to me and you're enjoying it!
Sarah also looked enchanted that he had loosened up a bit and reciprocated to her flirting, although he seemed to have some breathing issues now and then. He took a deep one now as he obviously wanted to touch a delicate issue. With his words, not with his hands.
"When you put that thing on-"
"It's called a thong-"
"-and it's still a thing. When you put that on up in our room, I didn't see the backside due to the beach shirt. I thought that there would be more fabric on the back than on the front, but as I see now, there is nothing but the string, so, all of your, I mean, nothing of your, I mean…"
Tickled pink that she only needed to be herself to make him dizzy - no acting, no pretending, no lies, no seducing - she helped him up.
"So, you can see my ass," she matter-of-factly said, then changing her voice to a mixture of flirt and you-better-watch-what-you-say-next. "Is something wrong with it? Too fat? Too flat? There are thousands of heinies like mine around today."
He looked at her like he had seen a ghost. Like a demon-possessed Sigourney Weaver in "Ghostbusters".
She has to know that she is pretty by usual standards, but she obviously isn't aware of how out-of-this-world pretty she is.
"No, no, no," he began with utter conviction, "no heinie on this beach or any other coast of this world, regardless if it would be the dayside or the nightside of the planet, is like yours."
She again peeked down at her backside as well as she could, allowing her to obscure the fact that a reddish tinge crept up her cheeks and missing how he blushed himself. Chuck burst out with what he really thought in his unique way, and it was a style of compliments she wasn't used to. Even though he sometimes sounded nerdy, she eventually figured out that he wasn't complimenting her deliberately with a purpose – he was simply putting his heart out there for her.
"Then, what's wrong with it?"
"Nothing's wrong with it! Absolutely nothing!" he pressed out, raising his hands almost like a preacher raising them to heaven. And that is the problem, he didn't dare to say aloud. "It's perfect, like the rest of you, it's totally-"
He cringed as he realized what he was going to say.
"What? Out with it!" she sternly requested.
"… bad-ass?" he offered with a tentative grin. With immense relief, he noted the signs of a big smile on her face that she tried to keep restraint. She began a sassy reply.
"See, I take care of our cover, and if you…"
Sarah trailed off. She had to admit she had been somehow a flirt ever since that morning, but she wasn't flirting consciously.
Well, a little bit I'm enjoying what I'm doing to him. Just a little bit.
A coy joy about simply being with him filled her heart, and it brought the playful side of her out that she thought had been lost forever. She was in a good mood because of him - that was all there was to it, and it showed.
Last night, in addition to everything else she found likable and attractive in him, Chuck had gained a maximum level of her trust no one ever achieved before. Her mind was repeatedly coming back to the events that found them so close. The scenario had given him every option to fulfill any sinful dream he may have about her – yet he chose not to do so.
Instead, he offered consolation when the black cloud that followed her for the past decade yet again caught up, and it started to pour. Before she could drown in fear and depression, his hand had reached out like a sailor to a shipmate that went overboard in heavy seas.
She watched Chuck and saw that he regained his composure. Once more, he looked confidently like someone who finally found the right path.
She changed her mind about retorting cheekily and patiently explained the situation. As expected, the moment they left the hotel and strolled down to the shore, they were under surveillance. A man in a red shirt on a balcony on the fourth floor watched every one of their steps with binoculars. After twenty minutes, Casey and Carina confirmed what Sarah's situational awareness already predicted: No one followed them personally. Apparently, they had already been given low priority by their yet unknown enemy. Assuming that as a fact, it should be child's play to convince whoever they were that it was only Charles and Samantha Lisa Carmichael, honeymooning until their tired bodies would seek sleep.
"We're honeymooners going swimming. Having some harmless fun in the sea. And we better play our roles well. That guy in the red shirt on the balcony is still watching us."
"He's only a redshirt, my dear S dot. He won't survive the episode anyway, you can disregard him," Chuck smart-aleck-ed.
I need to ask the General if there is an Intersect for nerd knowledge. I really could use an upload to understand all the things he is uttering.
"I have not the slightest idea what that means, but we can't disregard him as long as he's watching us. We finally need to get rid of our shadows to accomplish the mission, so they have to decide for good that we're a harmless couple. Hey, let's swim a bit, do a bit of friendly water-splashing, make happy faces, and everything will be fine. And please don't call me S dot. Call me Sam."
He shrugged. "As you say."
"Let's head away from the kids and moms, where it's a bit deeper, hm? Over there?" she suggested.
She didn't wait for his answer but turned around and waded into the waves. When the water was up to her waist, she glided into it and swam away. Chuck admired the muscles in her shoulders working and followed her dutifully. They ended up where the sea was up to her chest.
Sarah turned around and paused for him to come up. Chuck stopped about two yards away, uncertain how to proceed but trustfully watching her. In self-reflection, she pondered what it was in those eyes that magnetically pulled her to him. More physically, she felt the next wave carrying her towards him. It wouldn't bring her up close, so she clandestinely paddled a bit with her feet to make it happen.
She drifted within his reach. Chuck took her in his arms and, at the same time, didn't take her in his arms. It was a wide, tentative embrace, and actually, only his hands gingerly caught hold of her arms, and he uttered: "Gotcha!"
"A long time ago," she mumbled just above the sounds of the sea against his breast as she leaned her forehead on him. She wanted to put her arms around his waist but wasn't sure if he would think that this was too intimate for the public.
Is my imagination playing tricks on me? What did Sarah say?
His heart somersaulted.
"The wave brought me to you," she murmured as she raised her head to look at him.
"Happiness comes in waves," he smiled. It was such a joyful and open smile that Sarah felt the urge to touch it. It certainly would help the cover, but she didn't think it was advisable. Their only contact was his hands on her arms. It did so inexplicably good to be touched by him, even in that harmless way. Bit by bit, she understood that she also had a strong, non-sexual desire to be close to him, something as wholly new as cuddling in the night.
Sarah looked down into the water and saw that their feet on the ground were very close. She quickly glanced up at him and sucked on her lower lip to hide her pleasant anticipation while he was apparently content with the moment. Carefully, she raised her right foot hardly an inch and stroked his toes as light as she could.
"Gosh, what's that?" he exclaimed as he pulled his foot back, and before she could react, totally surprised her. He grabbed her at her waist and lifted her away, then swung her around in the water while taking two or three quick, forceful steps and eventually let her down gently. Only after that, he examined the floor of the ocean.
"Did you feel that too? There was something that-"
He abruptly stopped because she laughed.
"What's so funny?" he asked while searching for whatever it was that touched him. He finally looked up as he noticed that Sarah's mirth grew, and she laughed uncontrollably, holding her face in her hands and shaking her head, her shoulders bouncing up and down.
She chortled a few seconds more before she had herself somehow under control. Lifting her right leg almost out of the water, she pointed at it. "If you're looking for your sea monster, that's the culprit."
"Oh," he only made and scratched his head. "Oh."
She still chuckled, and her eyes glistened with tears of laughter and the joy to have pulled the prank with much more effect than she had hoped.
"And what was that?" she laboriously asked, not yet done chortling, gesturing around them, meaning his swift move.
"I didn't know what it was down there," he stammered, embarrassed. "I wanted to get you away from it."
She felt like time-traveling – if that's the word, I would have to ask a nearby nerd to be sure – back a year to their first rendezvous when she was momentarily speechless about his offer to be her baggage handler. I certainly have the same expression on my face now.
"That actually was very-"
"Don't say it, please, don't say it," he pleadingly interrupted her.
"What? I was going to say that was very chivalrous," she finished her sentence.
Sarah knew he had awaited the word sweet or cute. But it wasn't. The chances were slim that anything hazardous would tenderly caress his toes, but nonetheless, his spontaneous decision had been to get her into safety. In a dangerous world like hers, that marked the ideal man.
A grin bloomed on his face. That was cute. It was that grin. She watched as it unfolded, curling his lips lopsidedly, and knew it was for her and hers alone. Sarah begrudgingly accepted that she could not forever linger in that moment.
"The redshirt, as you call him, is still watching us. Let's be a bit silly, ok?" she suggested, but her inflection was an invitation.
Chuck looked at Sarah, dumbfounded. "Sorry, what?"
"Who's the big kid here? Don't tell me you never did that!" Sarah ribbed him and skillfully shoved a generous handful of water his way.
"How can you see him anyway from here?" he asked, making sure that she received a fair amount of seawater back.
"I can see the red dot on the balcony. I know where he stood, and it's him. He's still there," Sarah explained.
"But how do you do that? If he's observing us with binoculars, won't he see that you watch him?" he asked curiously, for a moment negligent and receiving the whole nine yards.
"No, Chuck. First, binoculars or not, it's quite a distance, and even if I look straight at him, he couldn't be sure that's what I was doing," she explained as she evaded most of his counterattack. "Second, I don't watch him. I simply have memorized the spot where he was, and as long as I see that red dot there, I know it's him when I turn my head around and take a casual glance over the whole beach."
"Simply? I couldn't do that," he said with genuine respect. She rushed to assure him of the opposite.
"You can absolutely do such things. I saw you scanning program code. When you search for something, you almost see it before it's on the screen, I swear," she said as she remembered the impressive display of his skills when the mission began. She briefly pondered that possibly the CIA would hire him as a computer specialist, thus closing the undeserving asset chapter. "You're really good at that. So watching red shirts and browsing code isn't all that different."
He stopped their game and snickered, trying to think about something else than to imagine how it would be to kiss all those salty drops of ocean from her skin. "I admit I find it kind of sexy to hear you use that term so casually."
"What term?" What did I say now?
"Redshirt."
"I picked it up from you, and I still don't know what it means." She gifted him a beguiling glance, topped with inculpable playfulness that took the edge of seduction from her eyes. "But I am glad to hear it turns you on. Care to explain what this is about?"
Chuck made a funny, shrewd face. "What if it's a secret? As a spy, you will understand I couldn't tell you."
Don't start spy games with a spy, my nerd, Sarah thought. "As a spy, I would find ways to torture you until you spill it."
Chuck made big and astonished eyes. "Torture me? Here? You got no weapons with you. How?"
Amused, Sarah looked around at the endless ocean. "Waterboarding?"
Then she taunted him with a mockingly earnest expression. "And what makes you think I don't have any weapons on me?"
While Chuck wasn't sure if she was serious and how he could find those weapons without examining every inch of her, Sarah noticed with impatience that the redshirt from the balcony was still on guard.
How long will he watch us? Haven't we done enough to pass as a happy couple? When can we have a lovely afternoon, just two friends… or whatever we are becoming?
She waded close to Chuck.
"I really want to get rid of that fellow on the balcony. It seems we aren't doing enough to convince him," Sarah said with a tone of apology.
He knew that tone. Harsh mission life was back. He had viewed the man in red as a conversational piece. Her words reminded him that he was real and that he was surveilling them. This was not the moment to pout. It was an occasion to prove his newfound determination and pursue his plan to make her happy – or, this time, at least, the agent.
"What can we do?" he asked, stumped about the insistence of the binoculars. If I would have observed ourselves, I had filed us away under silly lovebirds a long time ago.
Sarah closed the distance between herself and Chuck, looking a bit sad suddenly.
"We run out of options," she began. "Even I would believe in us by now."
"I'm glad to hear that," he seconded.
Her mind was working. The possibility existed that the man on the balcony would remain there as long as they were in sight. But what Casey surveyed last night and how they, whoever they were, reacted to their successfully faked love indicated that they would quit watching as soon as they were convinced. Their resources could not be endless. It was not only worth it, no, it was also imperative to test that.
Though she and Chuck had known that they were under watch, they had not acted. They were only a man – okay, an endearing yet slightly goofy nerd - and a woman – okay, a tough yet troubled super-agent – enjoying each other's company. Sarah recognized she needed to tell him that before whatever they would come up with.
"I really enjoy this afternoon… with you," she carefully began. "I never forgot that we are being watched, but I didn't do anything I wouldn't have done if that man weren't there. Nothing was for the cover, all was real."
Please believe me!
She knew if he didn't believe her, then their time together would bear a much different meaning. Then he'd ask himself again if he only had been a pawn in one of her countless spy games, then he would self-tormentingly wonder if she were only the mission-obsessed agent that would spend such time with anyone to be successful - like Bryce Larkin. Sarah wanted him to understand that whatever reality and whatever deception happened today, it was only about Chuck and Sarah.
"I know, and me too," he simply said.
I've been here with you, Sarah. I've seen you play and flirt and laugh and enjoy yourself like never before. Even you can't act that. If that happened a year ago, I'd be totally over the moon about how great we are together. I still am, but I am on my mission to make you happy no matter what, so spill what I anticipate is the next escalation in this spiel that suddenly is a spy game again.
"I think it's wrong that we need to raise the stakes, but I considered everything and think we have to."
Why did she consider it wrong? Chuck wondered. It was a logical move a civilian understood as well.
Wow! Sarah thinks it's wrong because of us, it dawned on him. I'm her asset, I'm her cover, but right now, she put Sarah and Chuck above the mission!
From that point of view, of course, it was wrong to shatter the wonderfully poignant day by relegating them back to the roles others had applied them. Chuck didn't say anything, occupied by processing his insight. The look in his eyes was friendly, reassuring, and – knowing.
He knows, Sarah thought with a sobering feeling, or at least guesses.
Feeling timid to destroy the dainty exhilarating connection they had, she made sure that she didn't touch him but came as close as possible.
"I know how much you hate PDA, but can I ask you for a sacrifice?"
To her surprise, he opened his arms, also not touching her, but with the same speck of sadness in the corner of his eyes. His voice was not firm, but his gaze was.
"You want to make out for our audience, put on a show, kiss me, and so forth."
Something is different about him, she speculated. Dear God, no 'and so forth'!
"Really?"
"Yeah, whatever you want, go ahead. I understand."
He's making it easier for me, I can't believe it. This is not the Chuck I knew only yesterday!
"I can understand in case you don't want-" she felt the urge to give him a choice once more. Actually, she wanted him to object.
"It's OK."
It's OK, just like that? What's going on? Or did he turn monosyllabic because he didn't like to fake it again but was clever enough to see the need for it?
She also wanted to keep that wonderful spirit in their afternoon, and intimacy had not played a role in her plans today.
The symbolic beach ball was on her side of the wave, and she knew to follow up their words was the wisest thing to do. She made the final step into his embrace. His arms encompassed her awkwardly. He put a hand on her back, simultaneously trying not to pull her to his chest. It was apparent he did not want to touch her under these circumstances. If she was sincere to herself, and she was today, she didn't want either and felt disgusted about the situation. Annoyed at herself that she had to bring in Sam and Charles when it had been so exciting to be Sarah and Chuck. Why did she have to do this to him? … To us?... No, I won't!
This clumsy embrace or weak excuse for an embrace will have to do, she decided. Chuck's feelings had become vital for her, but she couldn't say when that happened. She didn't want to hurt him anymore and was going to spare him these faked intimate moments. She comprehended that last night had not been an easy one for him as well, but he had put her first.
Good, amiable, Chuck.
Now it was her time to show him that while real romance might be a while away, there would be no faked intimacy between them anymore. Entwining her arms around his neck, she didn't know why she reassuringly whispered in his left ear. "Don't freak out, we'll manage that. Since you've got your back to him, he'll think I am kissing you. But we won't do anything except standing here and only give the impression that the Carmichaels are smooching."
She brought her face to his and looked him in the eyes, then leaned in so close that their noses and lips and cheeks almost touched. Something was off about him, but other things thankfully had not changed. She saw that her nearness confused and mesmerized him as it always did, and she felt the same happy tangle of emotions.
This is not real, she mentally repeated until she could not resist the look in his eyes anymore. As she was about to move the final fraction of an inch so their lips would meet, she willed her eyes to close. His loving gaze invisible, she found the strength to remain where she was, and their supposed kiss did not turn into a real one. To support the illusion, she placed a hand on his nape, making sure she did not lustfully roam her fingers through his curls. As if answering, his arm on her back moved up. He grabbed the bow that held the strings of her bikini top together.
Sarah trusted Chuck never would take the second to last piece of clothing from her. Still, the gesture initiated the idea of him doing so and exploded in a series of erotic fantasies inside her mind. Her breath hitched. She needed to stop those dreams, needed to get away from him before he would notice the arousal that threatened to wash over her that the thin fabric of her bikini top could never disguise.
"Is he gone finally?" Chuck asked, perfectly timed.
Thank you! Thank you for bringing me back to the mission! Sweet, lovable nerd, saving me from kissing you! Saving me from a kiss that would be real to me but fake to you! I want your kiss, but not today and not that way. I need time to arrive there.
She opened her eyes and moved her head. The balcony was empty. "Yup," she squeezed out happily.
The rest of the afternoon could begin, and she was determined to pick up where they left off – innocent fun. The rest of her life was in the planning stages, but she reminded herself, one mission at a time. Glad to have mastered another obstacle without damaging the sweet emotions between them, her prankish mood returned in full force.
Sarah let go of him, his arms set her free, and she glided out of his embrace, with a quick move pushing him under the surface. When he came up spouting water, she was laughing hysterically over his expression. He certainly had not expected that. His face, water dripping down from his curls, showed that in the most comical way.
"So if this is what you want…" he trailed off before grabbing at her. Also, in the ocean, she was too nimble for him, and he missed her. Instead, she used his momentum to push him under the surface a second time.
Coming up again, he mimicked spouting out water like a fountain and leisurely wringing out his curls to make her laugh even more, before launching himself at her. He came closer this time, but her lissom figure still evaded his grasp. He scraped past her, their bodies touched, but he found himself under again. Both felt that contact much more thrillingly than the forced act they staged seconds before. A few times more, they played the game, and he enjoyed experiencing the power her slender body possessed like an overdose of oxygen.
Ambition took the better of him. As usual, he was finding himself under the surface, and he took a moment to open his eyes. He watched Sarah's legs, ready in a fighter's stance, to see where she was, then he exaggeratedly shot up like a cork out of a bottle of Champagne, going straight into her direction. This time she let out a laughing gasp as he achieved to at least touch her with the tips of his fingers before she sent him down again. But encouraged by the progress he made, he peeked again where she was from underwater and then breached the surface once more with all his might.
He could grab her this time. His arms were around her waist, and he held on for dear life as she squealed with delight. In a moment like a flash, he noticed an elegantly curved shoulder, a fair neck, an open and wildly grinning mouth with perfect teeth, a pair of gorgeous blue eyes that sparkled brighter than the sun and put the blue of the sky to shame.
God, right now, we're just a girl and a boy enjoying life. All that is important in life is condensed into this our moment of happiness clowning around.
The initial feeling of triumph vanished quickly. Sarah was too flexible, too agile – and admittedly too strong. Chuck had no clue how she managed, but like a mermaid, she wangled herself through his arms. One moment he felt her waist and could not help to register her perfect curvy figure. The next moment his arms were around her hips. He pressed tighter, knowing that Sarah Walker was no fragile poppet, to thwart her escape, and for a few split seconds, he seemed to succeed. He noted the strings of her bikini bottom on the inside of his arms, and as they remained there for a wink, he thought he had her caught firmly. But then the marginal contact with her thong was gone. He sensed losing his stance. Hips, thighs, calves, feet slipped through his clutch, water sloshing around him.
He abruptly understood that there was an erotic undertone to their frisky struggle. The short distraction that perception brought was his undoing. The last thing he saw before he was down under again was one of her feet, and the last thing he heard was her tittering. He knew with absolute certainty that he never saw her so carefree as he came up, once more empty-handed.
Or not so empty-handed exactly. He glanced down into the water on his right hand, where he felt something, first thinking it must be some debris unreasonable tourists had left. On second thought, it looked suspiciously like Sarah's bikini bottom. She escaped his grip, but the wild wrestle had peeled off the garment and left it almost in his hand. He swiftly grabbed it and hid it behind his back.
Turning to her, out of breath, he realized that she was unaffected by the fun fight. The only thing that made her breathing harder was the fact that she still doubled over with laughter. He was thrilled to see her that way. Her whole body shook. He realized when Sarah Walker laughed from the heart, all of her was committed to it. It was a wonderful, guileless sight until he searched her gaze and held his breath. There in her eyes was the same smoldering carnal fire he felt simmering, still controlled, but trying to break free.
"Will you give up?" she taunted. "You'll never catch me!"
Chuck tried not to watch her too inquiringly. Did she ignore that she missed half of her bikini, or hadn't she noticed in all the clowning around?
He raised his free hand in defeat.
"You win! I give up!" he declared. "I promise," he added when she looked at him doubtfully.
"I think I'm ready for the beach," she said, tilting her head to the side in an unspoken question if he agreed with her.
"I ain't so sure if the beach is ready for you!" he retorted.
She frowned in amusement. "Thank you, Chuck, very nice of you to say, but-" she raised an arm and ran a hand through her hair "-I'm pretty sure I have to freshen up myself a bit to become representable again."
Not that I would care what other people think as long as Chuck finds me pretty.
Chuck still had not decided when to tell her.
"What about the red shirt?" he asked.
"He never came back," she said.
"You had the time to check that during all the frolicking?" he marveled, mightily impressed. "I didn't have one jiffy to care about that!"
"Uhm, that's why I'm a professional agent, and you're a professional nerd," she snickered.
He eyed her mysteriously. "I let that slip," he couldn't resist quipping.
"I really wouldn't mind now going back to our blankets," she repeated her wish, ignoring his somewhat cryptic words and intonation.
"I dare to say I would mind, even as your cover husband only," he answered her once more in a way that left her wondering.
"Your gibbering makes no sense," she stated, turned around, and started to take the first steps towards the beach.
"Sam, please!" he shouted as he understood that she would only need a few moments more to reach the shallow water. "Sam, stop!"
Sarah turned, saw that he hadn't moved, and was a good couple of yards away.
"Do I miss something here?" she asked.
"Uhm, absolutely, you got it finally."
"Don't speak in riddles!" she admonished, curious where this was leading, and rested her hands on her hips. As she waited for Chuck to explain, a funny feeling overcame her eventually. She looked down into the clear water and saw her well-trained tummy, her long shapely legs looking contorted through the water surface, even her feet on the ground – and nothing else.
"Charles Carmichael!" she exclaimed as she covered herself with her hands. All she could spot was his hand holding her bikini bottom. The rest of the world blanked out as she realized that she was only seconds away from strolling onto the beach bottom-less.
"How did you pull that trick?" she wondered, not knowing if she should be amused or annoyed, two emotions swiftly replaced by a third one surfacing. So before Chuck could reply, she continued, a bit desperate, a tiny bit indignant.
"Alright, alright, now you know that I shave it to a small strip, I hope you enjoyed the view, now gimme that thing!"
"Gimme that, gimme that, gimme that thing!" he sang in falsetto before he stammered in the realization of what she said.
"Uhm, I… I… didn't, I emphasize, did not know that detail about your… about your… " – please don't say landing strip now – "…about you, I mean, and it is not that I don't appreciate telling me. It expresses a certain trust, and… and that's something that's pretty pretty hard for you, I know. So thank you for that, and I won't tell anyone even if they torture me, but I didn't see anything because my eyes… my eyes are closed. If you get your thing, I promise I will not look."
She checked his face in disbelief. True to his words, his eyes were closed so firmly that he looked quite tense. Suddenly intensely crimson-red about what she disclosed unnecessarily, she made her way to him.
"You're absolutely unique," she said with warmth in her voice as she finally took the fabric from him. "How did that happen?"
"The last time I tried to catch you. I thought I had you, but you wrangled yourself out of my arms, and somehow that thing came off."
"Thong," she corrected him and saw at a glance why she lost it. Both side string ties of the bikini bottom had come undone when they frolicked in the water. He didn't actually pull it off of her – she would have noticed that – they came loose in their joyful struggle and then drifted away. She tied it safely again, making a mental note to wear something else next time. The other option would be not to play with him, and that was out of the question. Next time? Are we making plans?
Heading once more to the beach, she glanced at him with a real giggle – and Sarah Walker was as little a giggler as she was a cuddler. Or had been. Things change.
"You can open your eyes now before you go in the wrong direction, and I have to save you from drowning."
Not blabbering or spiraling, his retort was short and to the point, and she had nothing funny to offer against it.
"Says the woman who loses her bikini bottom in the Pacific and doesn't even notice it."
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A/N (3) "Coming up again, he mimicked to spout out water like a fountain….": Their playful fight in that part of the chapter is a reference and bow to "The Detective And The Tech Guy" by , a mind-blowingly brilliant story – too bad FF does not allow me to include the link and send you there right away. But you can find the way yourself. The author is listed as "thecharleses". And probably this chapter is also a view back into everyone's carefree youth.
A/N (4) Once more, I extend my sincere gratitude to all of you reading, reviewing, in general, sticking with me.