A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: The honeymoon bed finally put to good use, Chuck and Sarah engage in a heart-to-heart talk while Sarah allows him to (her own words, not mine!) "reload his gun". She declared that they are now boyfriend and girlfriend. She told him that Samantha Lisa is her real name. Then they talked about Sarah's panic attack. Chuck wondered if she couldn't talk to Bryce about it. Let's recap the last few lines of the previous chapter to find out how they proceed.

A/N (2) OK, I read all these reviews and PMs, I really do. I hear you. I hear that especially those two-parter chapters are hard to wait for (which gives me the notion that someone enjoys this, which in turn makes me blush). You need to know that I reply to all reviews. I keep on further discussions with a few of you. I like to read and review as well. And, gosh, there is a thing called real life too. So I have kind of a schedule for publishing, although the story is written by now, and even the last modifications are done. But, as I said, I hear you. So, by special request of David Carner, here comes chapter 33 already.

Trust in me in all you do,
Have the faith I have in you.
Love will see us through, if only you trust in me.
"Trust In Me" (Milton Ager, Jean Schwartz, Ned Wever)

Chapter 33: Chuck vs. Saskia Tomaszewski

After a long pause, a suspicion rose within him. "Wait... is Bryce part of the problem?"

Sarah exhaled loudly. This was getting menacingly close. She should have stopped the conversation altogether, but she could not. She did not want to, however she would tie herself into knots.

"Yes and no."

Chuck accepted the answer, albeit his foreboding got worse every second. But Sarah talked, which was essential for her healing, even though she seemed to settle for a default cryptic reply. So he made another mental note and forced himself to a reasonable question.

"But you didn't know Bryce … when you had your first panic attack?"

"No."

Chuck gave his voice the warmest tone he knew so Sarah would not think he criticized her.

"Usually, my questions should bring forward a flurry of monologues from you, not the other way 'round. Have you seen that show, Monk? That guy didn't need one single question. He talked all the time during his counseling sessions. And Deanna Troi, that beautiful counselor from TNG? She also made the people talk and not the other way around, you remember that? Although she didn't have so many lines in the first season anyway. We watched that show together, you remember?"

He is so adorable as he tries to encourage me without pointing out my difficulties in talking and finding the right words. Words don't come easy.

"Yes, I remember," she confirmed with one of those affirmative nods that were so typical of her, raising her head slightly and slowly as if she considered her decision at that moment before nodding swiftly and curtly. "The Next Generation!" she translated proudly. "That bald guy, piccolo, peekaboo, pikachu, or something like that."

He laughed, wringing his hands. "This is gonna be uphill work to cultivate the nerd in you!"

She bestowed him another of those nods, and his heart flipped.

Cuteness, thy name is Sarah Walker!

Sarah checked his friendly expectant face and tried to fill in a few blanks.

"Bryce was not the reason for my panic attacks."

I see you aren't going to tell me who's responsible, Chuck realized. Not today, at least. But you serve me a morsel of the truth – as much as you can manage. I understand.

"I met him later when I was teamed with him. But Bryce knew what triggered these attacks and used it to his advantage."

Chuck exploded into a mess of anger so instantly that they both were shocked, but he could not help himself.

"He – used – it?" he yelled. "That bastard knew and didn't help you … did he … blackmail you about it?" Chuck gasped, remembering how Larkin obviously tried to control her that night before Sarah beat him up. "Were you partners because he knew?"

Sarah, in all honesty, did not understand what he was implying.

"What do you mean, partners, … because he knew? Graham teamed us up."

"I mean, not CIA partners… did he… was he…" he stammered in disgust as his voice rose again. "Were you his girlfriend because he had this knowledge about you?"

Tell me! Don't evade me this time! I have to live with the fact that the woman I thought I loved and the woman I truly love both ended up in the same arms. Fooled by attributes I can not offer. Dashing good looks, smooth moves, and enough masculinity to suffice for a whole troupe of Chippendales.

But look who's got the last laugh now!

Sarah breathed shakily. Chuck served her an opportunity to get out a couple of words about Bryce Larkin finally.

Chuck hardly could control his outrage over the conclusion he made. While he missed the details, he grasped the bigger picture. He was furious about how she had been treated and curious about what was so horrible that someone like Sarah could be manipulated and would suffer from panic attacks.

Sarah immediately understood another aspect of her dilemma. It was not only that she was afraid of the consequences of telling him about her life. It was also because he would be hurting for her – trying in vain to carry the burden of past pain that could not be leveraged by someone else. He would directly empathize with the terror and humiliation she had experienced. She didn't want to do this to him.

As of today, I protect him not only as an agent but as his girlfriend too. Shouldn't that mean I also shield him from the pain my past inflicts?

She pulled him out of bed. There was no way she was going to tell these things in the place that held the most important memories of her life, from the devastating panic attack to the life-changing sex. She looked at the loveseat. No, it wouldn't do. She didn't have a panic attack there, but the sex was fantastic. Eventually, she placed him in the chair where he sat during breakfast, and she did the same, picking up the conversation at his still unanswered question.

No agency training will help me to be as sincere as the question requires and as diplomatic and tactful as I want to be. Diplomatic and tactful! Not necessarily two properties I am known for!

"You mean if I had to sleep with him to keep my problem a secret? No, Chuck. As I said earlier, I fell for him. I didn't know better. I once thought I had something real, but I never was his girlfriend. I merely was his partner-with-benefits. Only since today, I know what something real is."

Sarah saw immediately that she hit the right tone and that he would have objected in case she sugar-coated the issue. Chuck was fascinated that she opened up for the first time they knew each other – more than a short sentence or a dismissive reply or an elusion. It was a pivotal moment, so he managed to stay silent even though he wanted to walk through the door that symbolically opened and ask a myriad of questions. Also, it did undoubted good to hear that he compared favorably to Bryce Larkin.

And if she says a few more things like that, my jawbone will lock, and I'll have to grin like the Cheshire cat until my last day.

"Over the last year, I realized I never loved him. I once told Casey, but never anyone else: Bryce was a mistake. That disc with Fleming we found last year describes him perfectly if you can understand what you see there. You think you saw his best side, protecting you from the spy life as I protect you now - while I pull you into it at the same time."

Sarah paused and sent him an intense gaze to emphasize her words.

"And you saw his worst side at the same time: Destroying your future by deciding for you what was good for you. He had no right whatsoever to do that. You remember his sincere words and honest look, but don't get fooled. He's manipulating everyone all the time. He did it with me too. He's a spy, and he's excellent."

"Oh," Chuck made. "That's why you said that 'lovers always manipulate you' the other day."

Sarah didn't know what to answer because he was correct. He read it in her face, and there was nothing to say about it. Instead of addressing his comment in any way, she matter-of-factly told him about the next milestone in her life.

If he listened long enough to me, it would all tumble out, chaotic, unsorted, urgent, but it would come out, and he will make me help be at peace with myself.

"I was recruited when I was seventeen."

Chuck looked like some Ninja destroyed his computer.

"You were what? Is that legal? That can't be legal. What did your parents say?"

"I don't talk about my parents." Her tone was final, and he had a fine sense today where he could dig deeper and what topics he should let rest.

"Ok, ok. But does that mean that you had your first panic attack after the CIA recruited you?"

She had to give it to him that he was rather persistent about the panic attacks. He wasn't nosing around for any random details of her life – he was targeted at finding out about her troubles with the purpose of helping her.

"Yes. Graham recruited me personally. He made me what I am."

Chuck's features were so full of disagreement that she had a quick notion he would break up with her again if she objected to the words he spoke.

"No, he certainly didn't. He made you the top agent of your agency, but he didn't make the wonderful person I met a year ago. They trained your skills, they taught you habits, but your heart is yours, and you're a diamond beneath all the coal they buried you under."

He didn't mean it that way, but a heavy burden descended on Sarah's shoulders. The issue she refused to reply to last night came back to haunt her as Chuck's words – certainly not his intention – reminded her of his question of how she became the agent she was today.

The Enforcer. Graham's Wildcard. The Ice Queen.

The conversation they were having was as if they together removed layers of dirt from her. She smelled the sweet scent of freedom for her soul, but she still feared that there inevitably was a price to pay: Those mountains of filth could be too much for Chuck. His kindness and his affection would set her free but also could drive him away in case he could not accept – and she knew nobody could – some parts of her past, try as he might. But she was not ready to give up yet and tried to explain her worries.

"It feels so good to talk, to tell someone about it finally, but I'm scared you will be so rattled and shocked about the things I did…"

She should have foreseen that Chuck was unstoppable. He still was at an all-time high after making love to her and – she did not make a secret out of it – literally pushing her to heights she thought she would never climb. Whatever hang-ups he had, she had unmistakably let him know that his craftsmanship as a lover was stellar enough to evoke a tingle all over her if only she thought about it. Chuck certainly thought he could give all the great lovers in history a lesson on how to satisfy a woman - and if that woman's name was Sarah Walker, he was right. It was no wonder that he felt invincible and tall enough to pick the sun from the sky to give it to her as a gift or bravely face the storms of her mind.

Would he sail through my nightmare and make it to the end of the dreadful passage, or would he drown in the abyss of my past? Especially as I love him so much, do I have the right to administer so much pain?

"Get it out. Get it out of your system. I can handle it," he stubbornly requested.

Sarah desperately threw her arms up in the air. Will the man finally understand!

"Chuck, I can't handle it myself!"

He was unwavering. As reliable as he had been to accompany her through her night of utter anxiety. As steadfast as he had been to make her satisfaction his primary aspiration when they made love.

"Bring it on! If we managed to get out on top of last night, shouldn't we try the next mountain together too?"

Chuck bent over the corner of the table where they were sitting and gave her a little awkward hug, to which she responded thankfully.

Girlfriend and boyfriend, supporting each other. Is the formula that easy, Walker?

She admired him for blindly stumbling into the second-worst nightmare of her life, firmly helping her to find peace. His optimism sparked a hope in her that the two of them together possibly could master everything. So she gave in, against her better judgment.

"The mission details are still classified, so I have to be vague about most things."

She looked quizzically at him again, but Chuck returned a reassuring smile.

"It happened in Miami, after the CAT Squad missions, and before I went solo for good, and before I was teamed up with Bryce. Graham had assigned me medium tasks, sometimes as a backup, sometimes with temporary partners, sometimes already solo. There wasn't any wet work involved. Graham said he saw huge potential in me and wanted to build me up slowly. I got one or two more important missions, where I was responsible for the mission goals. I was rather inexperienced these days."

She looked at him— last chance to back out.

"They sent me to Miami to get…"

She paused, preparing an anonymized rendition of her memories.

"…to get incriminating evidence on one of the leading crime families of Miami. They extended their business to the near east and cooperated with the… with some terrorists there, which was why the CIA came in. I should steal that evidence from the posh penthouse of … let's call him Mr. X."

"Is anything you tell me true at all?" he kidded.

Sarah gave him a look.

Yeah, have fun, because this won't last.

"Remember lesson one."

"Yes, close, but not too close." Chuck waved it away like an old pro, and she was close to bitterly chuckling.

He is so endearing, and I risk destroying him to save my soul. I can't do that.

"I think I can't do that. I can't expect you to stomach my story. We need a working Intersect and not a horrified civilian who shivers every time he sees me."

The look she got was so incredulous Sarah thought she needed to repeat her words, but before she could, he admonished her with mild disappointment.

"I think we're past this stage. Don't give me any Because-Of-The-Intersect excuses anymore. If you don't want to talk, for whatever reason, simply say so, and I'll accept it. But don't give me that Intersect… crap."

Her mouth opened to snap something back immediately but then just remained open as she stared at him. I can't say, 'because I love you', because if it's really love, we can master everything together, but if I tell you, we would not be together as you would run away, and then there would be no 'together' to master these challenges… I am spiraling like Chuck.

"Don't freak out," he said.

She laughed without joy. "That's actually my line, Chuck."

"Mr. X lived in High Pines, but the penthouse where he ran his business was in the Brickell area. He hosted parties there repeatedly, but it was tough to get in. If you weren't a friend or business associate – these weren't parties where you invited grandma – you could be there only if the catering company employed you, but it wasn't the same company every time. We saw no way to timely find out which caterer he would use so I could land a job there in time."

"Couldn't you burglarize-"

Sarah interrupted him with a melancholy look as the memory began to flood back.

"No way, Chuck. Penthouse, top floor, one main entrance, one emergency exit, two elevators, guarded twenty-four-seven. We could storm it with an army, but we needed to get our hands on the material without him knowing. At least that was our intention before the whole thing blew up."

"I see. No other way you could get in?" he asked simply to say something.

"If you were invited, you could bring a friend, and our research showed that this usually meant some high-class escort."

Chuck felt a cold hand clutching at his heart, but he forced himself to remain calm. Sarah was talking about a pivotal moment in her life. There was no question that the first boyfriend she ever had would listen.

"The AIC thought that I could be transformed into such a high-class prostitute for the mission, but Graham was against it. They had a heated discussion. She said – a woman was leading the team – that I was perfect material for a honey trap. If I was used right, I could be worth a billion dollars for the CIA simply by getting information via bedrooms all over the world."

"Used!" Chuck exclaimed.

He was having second thoughts if he wanted to hear the story. But it was not a question of what he wanted. Sarah sought his help, and all he had to do was listen without freaking out. If the pain would gnaw away half of his heart, so what? He didn't need a heart anyway other than for Sarah Walker. He was there for her. His head was swimming, but he could do that. Had to do that. Wanted to do that.

He had made a pledge.

"We still can skip all that, Chuck. I can confirm that I earned my nickname, The Enforcer, that night in Miami and leave it at that."

He grabbed the hands she had placed at the table. His voice was warm but determined.

"And you still carry it around, and nobody helps you to carry that weight? Who do you think I am, Sarah? I told you a year ago that I could be your baggage handler. I don't know how you look back at that night, but I meant every word as I said it, and I stay true to my words, as mushy as they were."

He applied her a not-so-serious double-dare-you look.

"Don't look so harsh at me, Chuck. I need a friendly face for this."

He let go of her hands and leaned back again.

"I wanted to make clear that I am here to listen and to support you, no matter what."

"Thank you," she simply said. For a moment, Chuck thought she would lay her head on the table in despair.

"Graham, of course, won the argument. He was her boss anyway. He said he had more important plans for me, grooming me for a special unit, and that there was no place for sex worker tasks."

"Good Graham!" Chuck exclaimed, not able to hide his relief.

A wisp of sadness played around her lips and disappeared again, like the smoke of a cigarette on a windy day before it dissolved into the air.

What was that? He thought and made yet another mental note.

"So they sent me there. The team and I went over hundreds of pages of dossiers on how we could gain entrance."

"That sounds pretty boring. How did you get in?"

"If I bore you, we can stop anytime well," Sarah retorted, but like his speech before, her eyes wholly tempered whatever asperity he might hear in her words.

"No, go ahead. Nothing more thrilling than to have the most beautiful woman of this and all possible parallel universes telling how she kicked the ass of some scumbag. That's better than foreplay."l

She was quick with a response as she was glad about everything that delayed her speech.

"I spill my guts to you, and all you can think of is sex?"

Chuck bent his head and shoulders away from her and raised a hand in defense.

"Please, Ms. Walker, keep your countenance and simply tell us your story. We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files, and we'd like to help you learn to help yourself. So, please, go ahead."

Sarah blinked. He certainly was, for the billionth time, quoting something. If there was one thing she learned in the year, then it was the fact that it would take a lifetime to catch up on his accumulated treasure trove of useless knowledge.

A lifetime?

She looked sternly at him, once more failing to appear serious about it.

"I started to hang out at a few places they used for catering, including Antonios' Sicilian Ristorante. It is… it was an excellent Italian restaurant. The CIA wanted the information from Mr. X. They didn't care if I would spend my evenings sampling some high-brow restaurants."

"So you landed a job at one of those places nevertheless – Antonios', I assume?" Chuck reasoned.

The only way to make him shut up and listen without interrupting would be to kiss him soundly, she pondered as she did not reply immediately. All of it was in the past long before he came into her life. She certainly wasn't ashamed of it, but that was only one side of the coin. The critical question was how he would take it?

"No," she simply replied. "Tony, the owner, was a charming and good-looking man. He was there almost every night, taking care of his place. He didn't approach me the first night, but he served my pasta himself the second night. To make a long story short, I invited him to sit with me, and I went there almost every night for a week, getting to know him. Then one evening, he asked me to be his plus-one at a party the next night, where he was invited as the caterer."

"A party at Mr. X's penthouse!" Chuck guessed, and Sarah nodded.

"What happened, Sarah? Did you get in?"

"Yes, I got to the party with Tony, as Saskia Tomaszewski, a girl who immigrated from Poland recently, about to leave Miami a day after the party, going back to Washington."

Chuck made an intrigued face as if she was talking about a third person.

"Saskia? That sounds sassy."

"Chuck, that's what Tony said too. He even called me Sassy."

"Anyway. I made it to the party, I broke the safe, got the data, and got out safely, undetected without a trace of suspicion. I excused myself after the party, being too tired. Tony was disappointed but took it in stride. He made me promise that I would spend my last night in Miami at his ristorante. He would cook himself for me, and we would have it all for our own as it was closed that day."

Chuck whistled.

"Such a casanova! But you left the same night, mission accomplished?"

Sarah sighed.

"No, Chuck. I planned to leave, but when reporting to Graham, he said I should stay in Miami exactly as my cover story was set up and leave for D.C. as scheduled. In case Mr. X found out that there had been a thief, my cover story should be perfect until the last minute. I disagreed, but he was the boss."

"So you had a day and night to kill. What did you do?"

As Sarah saw it, the plot developed like in Greek tragedy. Everyone could see what was going to happen, and nobody was able to do anything about it. But possibly, she thought, that was only in hindsight.

"Chuck, I went to Antonio's. I informed Graham about the invitation, and he told me to go ahead with it."

She called him by his name much too often, he thought. Chuck blinked and seemed to try to wrap his mind around something.

"So he did order you to go out with this man and spend the evening with him?"

For a change, Sarah had no idea what he was thinking. She evaded to reply and immediately continued with her tale.

"Tony was not a mark. He had been screened. He was only someone Mr. X repeatedly booked for his catering, so Graham deemed it was safe to have that dinner, and how it would nicely fit the cover story after we've been to the party together. Graham was adamant that I act out my cover to the last day of Saskia's vacation, so no suspicion would fall on her if ever the CIA needed Saskia to reappear in Miami."

Chuck's gaze was making her slightly nervous. She looked at her hands at the table.

"So Tony cooked for me, and we had a pleasant evening. After dessert, Tony showed me around, and I got the backstage tour to the restaurant's kitchen and everything."

With a sudden suspicion, Chuck asked: "And everything?"

Sarah closed her eyes. Here it comes. She knew how sensitive Chuck was.

"Chuck, I liked him."

There was no way to escape this. She opened her eyes again and was not disappointed. He was as lovingly expectant as before.

"His loft was right above his restaurant, and when he invited me up, I accepted."

Chuck didn't say a word as she paused. As she waited for any reaction from him, she got angry.

"And you know, Chuck, that's exactly where Carina's crap comes in. Booze and boys, one-night-stands. Bah! In ten years of service, I hardly had one single day off. I have to look up my own address the few times I am in D.C., so the taxi driver knows where to drop me. So whatever company I could get was not from someone waiting for me. I was on my own and alone."

She wanted to acknowledge the changes that had happened. That made this conversation possible in the first place.

"I am not alone anymore, just you know. But I don't like how Carina, of all people, points out my past to you with that damn sneer of hers. Whatever way of life I chose, I'm a human being and a woman. I expect to be treated that way. And the person that tells you about my past - it should be me. I'm not ashamed to tell you -" hopefully you can keep that thought up, Walker "- but it's my life, and if anyone gives you the lowdown on it - it should be me."

She bestowed him a sudden fond smile wanting to ascertain that her ire was not directed at him. The gaze he returned was firm and warm. There was no hurt, no accusation, no judgment. She almost sighed in relief.

"You've got a lonely job," he calmly said, and if she didn't know him so well, she had not noticed that he was nervous too, but sincere nonetheless. "It must be hard to find affection in a world like yours."

Chuck, affection? What a respectful guy you are! Momentarily speechless from the insight and affection he offered, she found it easier to continue after a few seconds.

"You know what I'm saying?" she asked to be sure he understood what she was trying to express.

He shrugged.

That wonderful specimen of a man simply shrugs it off. All those other dirty hypocrites…. aw shucks, what do I care about them anyway?

"You went to the party of a dangerous criminal with a guy unconnected to whatever crime your mission was about, you were interested and considered maybe, uhm, taking the next step. I went to frat parties, met girls I was interested in, and hoped to deepen that interest, mutually physically. Aside from the fact that my life wasn't in danger unless I drank too much self-made punch while yours was, where's the difference?"

Sarah intently stared at him. Chuck showed neither moral judgment nor patronizing pity over her lifestyle. He took it in stride, no, actually, he thought it was natural.

Was it possible that he would accept the worst parts of my life the same way?

"I grasped Graham's angle, there was something to it, but I wasn't comfortable about it. The analysts assumed that Tony's connection to X was strictly business. He was nice, and I could use the company."

Sarah didn't know how to word it. She was not ashamed of anything in her past except for one single thing, and that was not Tony from Miami.

"To be truthful, I didn't know what would happen. I wasn't specifically going up to..., but I was…"

"…in a sympathetic mood to have breakfast at the loft the next morning," Chuck finished the sentence for her.

Sympathetic mood? How does he make these things up?

Where was the naïve, nervous young man? Chuck seemed so mature.

Was it me? Are my problems already changing him? I like it so far, but is this only the first step to a process where he turns away in horror and disgust once he knows everything about me?

She wondered if she was sending him on a one-way road that eventually would lead him from loving her to leaving her.

"Sarah, you're dithering. Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you? Because you should get relief from talking about it, not tie yourself into knots."

From one moment to the other, she was proud of Chuck and proud of herself that she finally had sealed the deal with him.

He tries hard sometimes to hide it, but he is a man in the truest sense of the word. God, I love him so much.

"We went up, he opened a bottle of Champagne, and we sat in his living room. He was telling me how he started as a cook when I noticed that my eyelids got heavy and I got drowsy pretty fast."

"Oh no," Chuck squealed. "He put something in your glass!"

"No, he didn't. I wasn't on duty, but I was still cautious. He took a fresh bottle out of the fridge, I stood next to him while he opened it, and I made sure he had no chance to slip anything in my glass. And we drank together."

"So the glass was primed!" he exclaimed.

Sarah looked at him through her eyelashes.

"Chuck, I was younger and didn't have so much experience, but I was no fool. I took the glasses from him to carry them into the living room and switched them."

He nodded, impressed. "My bad-ass CIA cover-wife."

She ignored for the moment what the first and last word in his quip did to her.

"Still, it didn't help me. CIA training included being able to recover from drugs sooner than normal people and even withstand some drugs. … No, you don't want to know how that's done exactly. It is a fine line between tolerance and addiction. Anyway, I had taken a few good slugs of Champagne while he only sipped from his glass, busy with his story. The last thing I remember is that I saw Tony looking tired as well. I wanted to get up. Then everything went dark."

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (3) We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files: With this and the next line, Chuck, of course, is quoting "Mrs. Robinson," written by Paul Simon, and performed by Simon & Garfunkel, giving them their second #1 hit in June 1968 as well as two Grammy Awards.

A/N (4) I'd like to know a little bit about this chapter for our files: A quick review would do.