A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: Sarah just told Chuck the bloody, horrifying story of how she earned the nickname 'The Enforcer'. We now take a look at how they are dealing with it. For everyone who skipped the previous chapter because Sarah went on an ugly killing spree to save her life, here's a summary of what happened years before she met Chuck:

Sent to Miami by Graham to steal some data from Mr. X, the boss of a local crime family, Sarah Walker, still a young agent, closes the mission successfully, but is ordered to, according to her cover role, stay one more night. She is invited to a romantic dinner by a restaurant owner named Tony, but the evening takes an abrupt ending before any romance could occur as both she and Tony are drugged at his loft by something in the Champagne they drank. Tony, who repeatedly had delivered catering for Mr. X, had stolen from him, and Mr. X and half-a-dozen of his thugs showed up. Tony is shot, while the seven criminals plan to rape Sarah and then kill her and get rid of the body. Sarah thwarts their plan and goes to war. In a fierce fight that ends in a bloodbath, she wrecks, according to her musings, "revenge on these men in place for every woman who ever got raped." In the end, she kills all seven men with her bare hands extended by three knives. Agent Walker becomes The Enforcer in an epic, extraordinary, terrifying fight but with an equally terrifying background, we still have to learn about.

Rape, murder, it's just a shot away.
It's just a shot away.
Rape, murder, yeah, it's just a shot away.
It's just a shot away.
Rape, murder, it's just a shot away.
It's just a shot away.
"Gimme Shelter" (Mick Jagger & Keith Richards)

Chapter 36: Sarah vs. The Declaration Of Love

Lord Voldemort would have looked outrageously sun-tanned compared to Chuck, but the nerd was far from making any nerdy comments. Though Sarah had closed her tale, his mind was occupied processing the terrible memories she had shared. Sarah waited long seconds with shallow breath before she could not bear it any longer. She had stared down patiently the most dangerous criminals on the planet, remaining as cool as the dark side of the moon, but she could not wait any moment longer for the verdict of the most loved man on earth - because she was absolutely positive that no man ever was loved as much as she loved Chuck Bartowski.

"I told you I have a lot of baggage," she whispered and tried herself at self-deprecating humor. "More than a 747 can carry."

Her words brought him back to reality. She had never stopped talking as he beckoned her to continue every time she didn't know if she should proceed. But as shocked as he was and never tried to hide it, he also did not conceal that he was committed to hearing all of it. Sarah finally understood that Chuck's quest to find out more about her had not been nosiness. His curiosity stemmed from the sincere yearning to learn as much about the woman he loved to be a better partner for her. And possibly tease her a little about idiosyncrasies that eventually would make him fall even harder for her. Being inquisitive towards her was an attitude that, so far, she had blocked from anyone, simply straight out of professional instinct. Don't ever give anything about you away – it could be to your disadvantage, and in her job, disadvantage involved a wide array of troubles that included violent death.

Sarah could see how he came back from Miami and the bloodbath there so long ago. His face remained tense and pale, a mask failing to hide the emotions tearing at his heart.

Chuck wholeheartedly disapproved of forced sex, induced either violently or by other means like blackmail, but it had been mere theory for him until now. Rape had been something that Chuck knew from the news, but it had never become personal. Suddenly it was, and Chuck began to comprehend - a little bit at least - what it meant.

While humiliated, Sarah had been spared from the worst by going on a killing spree. It didn't make the fact that she had been almost raped easier. Chuck had seen the Miami drama unfold in his inner vision. The men were faceless thugs aside from what little description Sarah gave. But only a short time ago, he had held her sleek and flexible body in her arms, and all of it had been joyfully warm and willing.

Chuck experienced physical pain in his chest to hear how the evening unfolded and how the woman he loved so much was almost killed, saving herself by literally bathing in the blood of her enemies. Like Sigurd bathing in the blood of the dragon he killed, she had gained an indestructibilty that made her the best of her grisly profession. But she had a vulnerable spot just like the legendary warrior - her heart, which she kept hidden and protected. Almost like Sigurd had his cloaking device, the tarnkappe, Sarah had her ability to turn into the Ice Queen and let no one see even the tiniest bit of herself. And so far no one had come up who would be her personal Hagen of Tronje.

Big heart that Chuck owned, his sentiment expanded to womanhood in general, slowly beginning to grasp that this was not a singular story by a female agent on dangerous duty. It was something that easily could happen to, roughly speaking, half of the population. It was a tremendously depressing realization.

Chuck could not imagine forcing a woman to have sex. It was outside of his world, and since he'd never been confronted with it as a witness or even from hearsay, Sarah's memories struck brutally. His heart went out to every single girl that had been abused. The comprehension that men took women against their will – hitting hard through that relentless story Sarah told – made his mind stagger. He was ashamed at first and felt hopelessly naïve, only to realize that his sister's upbringing had not only taught him to treat women with respect but also mostly sheltered him from the ugly facts of life.

A full range of emotions from dismay to anger threatened to send him into a loop of confusion about what he would do about it before realizing that he needed to pull himself together. Here was a young woman with a heavy heart within his reach, and there they should begin to heal the wounds that life has beaten.

"No, no, no," he rushed out eventually to assure her that he was not backing away, smilingly floundering if he should alleviate the moment with humor. But he was too rattled for amusing movie quotes.

Sarah's heart melted as she saw nothing but pure love flowing from his eyes towards her.

How can I convey how much her candor means to me and explain to someone whose life philosophy had been not to share that sharing is what couples do?

Chuck shook his head about himself.

No, I am unfair. She may not yet have internalized that she can tell me everything and that we will carry all our burdens together, but she has made an enormous step by telling me about her The Enforcer background.

He felt endlessly clumsy to talk to her, desperately trying to speak sensibly. He was not prepared for conversations like these, but he would do his best.

"Did you get any support from the agency? Some counseling sessions?" he asked and got a blank face.

"Apart from the fact that I killed people everyone preferred dead anyway, the mission was a disaster. That was not how our agency's participation should have gone. The main object, to unearth and sever the terror connection, was not accomplished. The file is classified to this day."

"But how do your colleagues view you? Isn't there talk about the missions, and you hear about theirs, and they hear about yours? So won't they say, 'Damn, that Walker pulled something impossible last week, did you hear that she quelled a revolution only with a fork? How cool is that?' … Some talk like that, Sarah?"

Chuck had proceeded with his monologue even though Sarah had begun to smile, snicker, and eventually reluctantly laugh.

"Sorry, Chuck, you're too funny. Rumors circulate, and I'm in some of them, but missions are classified, and it's not that we put any of them on the bulletin board in the cafeteria for public amusement. Aside from Graham, who was almost euphoric about my killing skills, hardly anyone knew about the incident. What little leaked out ended up as a legend."

"Ok, ok," Chuck admitted. "I got carried away. Still, you must be pretty much well-known and revered for your missions, even if details are withheld, and only rumors are passed around."

She considered her answer as she picked up a fork to play with it.

"Yeah, they know me," she went on after a pause. "But I am not revered. They fear me, and they don't like me."

Chuck was puzzled, trying to comprehend the simple message.

"First point, I'm a dangerous person. My job's hard to accept."

"But-"

Sarah interrupted him lovingly, but firmly.

"No, Chuck. I'm a killer. We had that talk before. Only a tiny fraction of the CIA employees are tasked with such extreme missions. I'm truly thankful that you see me as you do, and I like to think I'm on the good side, but the fact remains that I killed people for a living for a while."

She scrutinized his face and realized that after her Miami tale, it took more to shock him.

"Second point, my so-called colleagues don't like me. A killer is not a likable person, plus a successful person is envied, and I'm a successful female killer, which makes it all worse."

"First point," he began using her enumerating method, "you're the most likable person I ever met. Second point, what's bad about being a female agent?"

She sighed, acknowledging his words with a sad smile. The goodness he carried with him was so admirable, and it made him the single one man who could have saved and had saved her soul.

"Chuck, the CIA is not a place known for gender awareness. Men hold the top positions, and my very existence is intimidating and annoying since I can do better in what they all thought is their tough-guys-domain. You can make friends by being a successful man in our business, but you won't by being a successful woman."

"That's disgraceful, Sarah!" Chuck exclaimed, showing an outrage going from 0 to 100 with the blink of an eye. "This is the 21st century! This-"

The outburst triggered emotions inside her, and she interrupted him.

"Yes! It's disgraceful!" She almost shouted. Another set of long-time suppressed emotions bubbled to the surface. "I can't tell how much more I have to achieve. I work five times as hard as men do. I aim for perfection from briefing to planning to execution to reporting, and I know that most of my colleagues are not nearly performing at my standards, but still…"

She made a pause that Chuck didn't interrupt because he was taken aback by her outbreak as she gestured over to him at the tabletop in front of him, obviously referring to something underneath. A hot bolt of realization shot painfully through him before she explained.

"I don't have that thing between my legs. I am less by definition."

She could see Chuck tremble with anger, and before he even spoke, she felt her heart overflowing.

"But it is totally irrelevant what gender you are! So you got a pu-" he stopped himself at the last moment. "You got a … you got …"

He was too agitated to negotiate that obstacle. Sarah leaned over and put a tender hand over his left on the table.

"It's pussy, Chuck. And it's all yours. You can say that around me because I know you don't use it derogatorily." She turned matter-of-factly. "If anyone else would bring that term up, I would kick their balls."

Chuck stared at her and then restrainedly laughed when Sarah dropped the serious face and fake-grinned.

"Sarah, you've got great timing and phrasing. You're funnier than a barrel full of…"

He made something she thought was quotation marks in the air, which turned out erratic because his mind registered that there had been a small hot remark sneaked in between her words that only now filtered through.

It's all mine? Heaven help me when we have her mind straightened, and she comes over me unhindered by any past impediments!

"Barrel full of what?" she asked, her emotions overflowing with everything he said or did or even when he simply listened to her. I got it very, very bad.

"Whatever you think is funny, your choice!" he explained.

"Ah," she smiled and completed his sentence: "… barrel full of Chucks."

"I'm that funny?"

She confirmed her words with a dainty little wiggling nod of her head that was so adorable that his wish that time would stop and that he could forever remain in that moment became painfully intense. I got it very, very bad.

But he needed to express his indignation over the stark unfairness she had to endure, so he came back to their conversation. "Anyway, whatever you've got is not of any importance if you get the job done!"

"That was very nice of you to say, but that's not how it works," Sarah said with clenched teeth. "It's a wholesome male system, and we females are welcomed most if we are obliging lovers."

Chuck looked at her, disturbed. What was coming up? He mustered his features as well as he could to be an understanding audience for Sarah. She needed to talk about it.

"The infamous Farm, Chuck, for instance, where we're trained," she began and not for a moment pondered if she should withhold anything. "It's a place of constant debauchery. They get it on on the pool tables in the recreation room, at the office, in parking lots, in cars, in restrooms, in the weapon chambers…" – so far, she displayed no emotions, but it seemed to challenge her to list the next place – "in safe-houses. It is pretty hard to follow who's sleeping with whom at a given time because the next day, partners are swapped, and the game begins anew. Many of them are married, most of them in relationships, but nobody has any problems with that. This is lucky because if the Russians could exploit that, the whole CIA would implode into a heap of philanderers and mistresses. In a way, this explains why the CIA does not really rely on honey traps, although such things occur. "

"Is it that bad? Is that what you're trying to say?" Chuck asked, having no idea where this was leading.

She checked his face.

"No, I don't render a verdict. These are adult people, free to make their own decisions. Also, I don't want to know how many women and men too feel compelled to participate in order to keep their job. But that's not the issue right now."

She looked as if she could say a lot more about exactly that issue but bypassed it casually.

"What I'm driving to is that this is the position, literally, where a woman can get renowned in the agency."

She shrugged, quickly wondering if she could be in another, more comfortable, risk-free, better-paid job at the CIA today if she had gone along with the games the agency people played and had been a willing playmate for her colleagues, trainers, and the management. Some men of higher reporting lines certainly had indicated to her that life as a girl toy for everchanging partners would have its benefits.

"They didn't have much sympathy for me. I was a young brat, inexperienced in every meaning of the word, and not joining their games. The agency is not a sentimental place. Even if you aren't on high profile missions like I am, your life as a field agent can be over very quickly, so" - she sent him a meaningful glance that should remind him of Carina's words - "get your kicks while you can, is the common philosophy."

Chuck eventually skidded with his chair opposite her and grabbed her hands, looking at them in absolute wonder. Sarah knew what he was thinking.

"I…"

He stopped. Her hands had been so tender only a short time ago, and then she had told him what they had done in the most terrible night of her life.

"I…"

He halted again. There were no words.

Is she afraid that I won't allow her to touch me again because of what she did? Separate from the fact that she saved herself and that these men were not to be mourned anyway, would she fear that the sheer brutality of her actions could drive me away? Did she refer to Miami when she told me two days ago that she sometimes wondered why her hands did not burn to a cinder from all the things she had done?

Yes, words eluded him. He leaned down and kissed Sarah's hands instead.

She looked down at him with a joyful countenance, not permitting her lips to part, as if she wasn't sure of her interpretation of his gesture. Was he telling her that nothing mattered besides being together?

She still wrecked her mind about it when Chuck sighed from deep within and got up, lifting her as well. As he slowly walked backward to the love seat, pulling her with him with both hands, she knew what was going to happen without the need to ask or check his eyes. Only then she broke into that beaming smile that could light up rooms like the sunlight the earth when breaking through thunderclouds.

Chuck slumped down. As he did not set her hands free, she had to spread her legs and straddle him, which she did with grace. His bathrobe was closed, while hers opened at the crotch as she sat down on his lap. He carefully pulled it close again as good as he could so only her naked legs stuck out and then gingerly pulled her head to his shoulder and cradled it with one large hand.

This was their mutual posture - Sarah sitting on Chuck.

It was a guarantee for love that encompassed the whole spectrum.

That range included hot passionate sex. Equally important, it also contained, like last night, and like right now, the love that united their souls and allowed them to summon up courage and consolation to face what life threw at them. They were connecting once more on a profound emotional basis as they did on that night of her panic attack. They exchanged strength and warmth only by being close to each other, being each other's shelter, and letting their souls communicate. And Chuck finally found words he was eager to speak out.

"I'm so thankful that you exist, Sarah," he whispered with a voice that shook from emotions.

Sarah instinctively cradled the back of his head in her own hand. No one ever had expressed that thought or had assured her that merely being herself could make anyone happy. The message was as clear as the water from a mountain well. Whatever nightmares the tale of her and the seven dead men would give him, he would not back away from her. He grasped, and he accepted what she had done, though his heart bled that she had to go through all this.

I love him so much, she happily thought. He was not one second faltering, not having second thoughts now that he knew that the woman he had made love with could be murderous and deadly like his craziest nightmare could not imagine. It didn't matter.

We are different human beings, but our souls belong to each other. As if we met in an earlier life, loved before - and loved so much that we had to be reunited eons later. Possibly we've been Orpheus and Euridyke. After ages went by, we got another chance. Orpheus could even charm stones with his music, and in this reincarnation, the stone had been my heart, and Chuck finally, this time, was able to save me from my very own Hades, guiding me out of the underworld into a life of love and laughter.

Sarah dropped the mythic associations as quickly as they had surfaced. She was here, and so was Chuck, and their story only had begun.

She felt her heart beating wildly. She could never adequately explain how precious these poignant moments were when the physical contact did not serve lust and passion but love and togetherness. Something that she not only never had experienced, but since her father taught her about deceiving the pitiful people who loved, she also did not expect to exist. Yet there it was, and it filled herself completely.

The lightness that supplanted the echoes of her Miami tale opened her senses for a pronouncedly down-to-earth perception of their nearness. Carnal desire impishly tugged at her heart. Sarah remembered her promise that he could ravish her later, but she was in a much different mood.

Before making him a very, very happy man, I am going to tell him that I love him. I can't hold it back any longer. I have to say it out loud, and I want to make it a monumental moment in our relationship.

Sarah raised her head and looked him into the eye with determination. Chuck caught the expression and held his breath. He wasn't sure what, but something big was coming up.

Sarah couldn't help but smile with happiness. She would say these foolish three little words to Chuck. She would tell a man for the first time in her life, only having felt abhorrence over these words before. One particular man was to blame that she could not say these words. Another man was responsible that she could not wait any longer to speak them out. It was all she could think about, the most crucial message she had to convey to Chuck.

She sinfully circled her crotch over his bathrobe, never taking his eyes from his. The effect was immediate and so rewarding as she saw his lips quiver because he could not decide if he should moan, gasp, whisper sweet things, talk dirty, take charge, or simply await her next move.

Sarah slowly opened his bathrobe, making sure her fingers made fleeting contact with his skin. Remembering the first time they made love, she decided it was payback time, looked down enchanted, and sighed, "Exquisitely beautiful."

Chuck was near to fainting and trying to grasp what was going on. He could see on her face that she wasn't merely persuading him to another round of lovemaking. There was something huge looming on the horizon other than what she just had uncovered, and his heart pounded frantically in anticipation.

Sarah pulled on the belt that kept her bathrobe together as she raised her torso. The robe fell open to his eyes widening as he saw the most beautiful female that ever reflected on a male retina. It was not for the first time he saw her bare skin today, but there was a notion in him that told him that he would never get tired of the sight.

"Wow,... just wow…" he breathed.

"What?" she asked, having an idea about it but wanting to hear it.

"You're beyond beautiful," he hoarsely said.

Her mouth opened to a jubilant smile. She felt appreciated, desired, and loved. The formula was so simple. The words were as old as language itself. They were as straight as it could get. Spoken by the right man, they were - as he had foretold - magic.

She lifted herself just enough, reached down between them, and grasped him with a naturalness that made his mouth dry. He didn't dare to speak, to utter one syllable, not even to breathe.

Sarah guided him right to the gates of Xanadu and then firmly locked her eyes with him. She knew what she was going to do, and she burst with happiness and joy and longing.

She would breathe, 'I love you, Chuck Bartowski'.

Then she would glide down and make them one and enjoy their love slowly and romantically. She wanted it to be a moment they would remember for the rest of their lives. Sarah was ecstatic that the words would finally leave her mouth and hardly could contain herself. Her eyes glittered and gleamed in anticipation. If there had been a disco ball, their beams would have reflected a myriad of sparks in the room.

With the slightest nudge of her hips, she made him thrillingly aware of how ready she was for him, then opened her mouth to speak those magical words that had eluded her so harshly in her 26 years.

I love you, Chuck Bartowski, she rehearsed in her thoughts and then opened her mouth.

"I-"

The scourge of the 21st century ruthlessly cut in – her mobile rang.

She pondered killing it with one of her knives or smashing it against the wall, but it had ruined the moment for sure. They had had long hours for themselves, and she had savored every minute, even retelling her gory story of The Enforcer, but it had to come to an end. Still. Had it to be right now?

Sarah dropped her head on his chest and loudly groaned in frustration before leaving her favorite place in the world and kind of droopily walking over to the nightstand and picking up her phone. She raised her shoulders apologetically to Chuck as she saw the caller's name and knew she had to pick it up.

"Hello, Casey! ... I'm doing much better, thank you. … Hm-m, Chuck took good care of me," she assured, conspiratorially smiling at her boyfriend as she sat down next to him. "Yeah, he gave me some drops out of the Bartowski home medicine chest that did a lot of good," she said with a double-entendre that didn't escape Chuck, "and I feel just fine now. … Yes, I'll be OK tonight. … I understand. Give us a few minutes to freshen up."

Sarah put the phone away and turned to Chuck with the most regretful expression he ever saw on anyone, and that included Casey being kept from shooting some bad guys and instead having to handcuff them.

"Hey, don't be disappointed-" he began, but she didn't let him finish.

"I am," she said, not telling him that the chagrin went further than not having made love but missing to declare her love.

"Look around," he reasoned. "At the end of a day full of love, the bed should be disheveled, the linens mussed, blankets and pillows scattered on the floor, your hair should be messy, your eyes should be sparkling, and your heart should be full."

"There's a poet in the nerd," Sarah grinned, not wanting to stick to her disappointment when he was solacing her so charmingly. She was determined anyway that she would pick up this moment later precisely where they had been disturbed. She nodded to a piece of furniture.

"We accomplished all that though you forgot to mention this leather chair that mysteriously has moved a few yards through the room."

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (2) The CIA, the Farm, the sex, honey traps: I'm sorry I have not noted the exact source, but Sarah's words are based on an article by Reuel Marc Gerecht (American writer and political analyst who was a CIA officer early in his career, writing regularly for The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and The Washington Post). I only copied the text and the author's name quickly back then and failed to write down the newspaper or magazine where and when it was published.

A/N (3) You don't need to write to The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, or The Washington Post. You can leave your review right here. Thank you.