The Trapped Assassin
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: It has been so long. Forgive me for forsaking you, my people. No, seriously, I am sorry. Real life again. Thanks to those of you continually sending me messages. Thanks to the rest of you who so kindly leave reviews that actually interact with the story and the characters. It's very gratifying and I have enjoyed the short chats I've had with a few of you. Hope you all continue to enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I am not making any money from posting this story.
Chapter 8: Wallace-16
Sarah woke very late in the morning and spent a long time soaking in the bathtub, feeling exactly how she imagined she should feel after a night like last night.
It wasn't until she dressed, dried her hair, and wandered out to find a place to eat a late breakfast that those incessant future thoughts started creeping back into her happily dazed mind.
She still had a decision to make. A very important decision. Her entire existence was riding on whatever that decision was. On Monday. And it was already Wednesday.
She crossed the street and fixed her aviators on her face.
There wasn't even a single cloud in the sky to dull the Mediterranean sun today, and yet she felt like there was a cloud hovering over her head. Just her head. Nobody else's.
Nobody else had to decide whether or not to stay with the CIA. Whether or not to continue along the easier route where she followed orders, stuck to the script, and started the same thing over again. Over and over and over.
Or if she should—could—take a huge chance, cut ties with the agency that had made her who she was today, say goodbye to a life of order, abandon something she was legitimately good at. And for what?
For a real life, that was what.
For an existence that wasn't wrought with danger and sometimes fear. For an existence that meant feeling things…besides the rush of air going past her face as she narrowly missed getting a bullet lodged in her brain. Feeling things like what she'd felt last night. Getting a chance to laugh with someone the way she laughed with Chuck.
She wanted to enjoy things. Really enjoy them.
And she knew that was near to impossible in this life wrought with danger and murder. How could she allow herself to enjoy her own life when she'd just stripped someone else of theirs?
She sat alone in the corner of the cafe with her hash and coffee, munching on a thick slice of toasted sourdough thoughtfully. She reveled in the taste of it all, knowing that while it was possible to taste, smell, feel everything as the CIA's top assassin, she wouldn't be able to enjoy any of it the way she would were she an accountant. Or someone who plugged numbers into Excel spreadsheets all day long.
Did that sound boring as hell? Yes.
But was it worth it if she could walk down the street safely? Was it worth it if she didn't have to wonder who was next on the chopping block? If she didn't have to look over her shoulder every five minutes when she was in public? Or sleep with a knife under her pillow?
God, Chuck had almost stumbled upon the knife when they'd been having sex the other morning. She couldn't afford to have that happen. Not with him. Not with anyone.
But as long as she was an assassin, as long as she had to fear for her life, that was a definite risk. She needed that knife. She needed that protection.
What would it be like to be a woman who didn't need a weapon with her at all times? Even now she had a knife strapped to her thigh beneath her knee length khaki bermuda shorts. She needed it. To keep her safe. She had to be ready for anything.
Maybe she was suspended. But she'd killed a man last week and she didn't know if she was altogether safe still being here.
Maybe that was all Monday's meeting was about. An update on Roland Taft, on what his underlings were doing, how they were handling the situation with the head of their movement cut off now that he was dead. Or maybe it was a summons to come back to Langley. A new mission was on the horizon. Another life had to be snuffed out. Bullet in the brain. Or a fast-acting poison slipped into their whiskey.
She shifted uncomfortably, picking at her food without the gusto she should be eating with after the energy-depleting activities she'd engaged in for most of last night.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she smiled a little. She'd purposefully put her phone in her pocket. Because she didn't want to miss Chuck's call. And she wanted it to be Chuck at the end of the line more than she wanted it to be the director of the CIA.
A small voice in the back of her head told her that meant something.
But she ignored the voice as she scrambled to pull the phone out and answer. "Hello?"
"Oh. Hi. Good."
At the sound of his voice, her appetite came back in full force and she spooned some more hash into her mouth. "What kind of greeting is that?" she asked in amusement once she swallowed.
"I thought it might be 50/50 that you'd given me a fake phone number, so part of me wasn't really expecting you to answer."
"Why the hell would I do that? If I didn't want you to call me, I wouldn't have left my phone number," she giggled.
Did women actually do that? Then she thought of how it could be a defense mechanism…get the guy to leave you alone without making him angry. Give him what he wants and escape without there being a problem. It made total sense if she really thought about it. "Well, here I am."
"Yes. Here you are. Well, I mean, you're not here. I'd like you to be."
Sarah clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. He was damn smooth this morning. "Well…I'm eating so…you're gonna have to wait."
That made him chuckle. She could hear the breeze behind his voice and figured he must be outside somewhere, enjoying the weather. "Late breakfast? Or early lunch? You slept in, didn't you? Are you a sleeper inner?"
"Am I a what?" she teased.
"Just—Nothing. Nevermind." She'd done her job. He sounded very teased. "Where are you eating?"
"You gonna stalk me if I tell you? Like, am I gonna turn around and see you standing at the door?"
He laughed. "No. I'll let you eat your breakfast in peace. I was just gonna ask if you're free tonight."
Yes. Absolutely. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Yes.
"I am," she said slowly.
"Would you like to not be free tonight?" he asked just as slowly.
Sarah pursed her lips thoughtfully, then smirked. "I thought we'd already been through this, Chuck. I'm not free, I'm actually quite expensive."
She smirked harder at the sound of his laughter. Maybe the fact that he was good at making really awful jokes was why he caught onto hers so quickly. "Woooow, okay. I'm going to let you have that one, Miss Walker, but only because I probably would've come up with worse."
She laughed this time. "Shut up."
"So what about it, though?" he asked. "Tonight? Me? You?"
"Okay. What are we doing?"
"I was thinking my suite, ordering dinner in, a pay per view movie, video games… Erm, we don't have to do the video games," he added when she was particularly silent. And she chuckled at him as he backtracked. "Just casual laid back things."
He wasn't saying it, but she was thinking it. And sex.
The assassin's mind wasn't usually so firmly ensconced in the gutter, but after everything that had happened between them, the explosion of passion that occurred whenever they were locked behind closed doors…Well, her mind was so far in the gutter it was practically drowning there.
"Sounds nice," she said.
"Okay, so…maybe come over before dinner sometime? 5? 6? 7? I don't know. When you want."
"Deal. I'll see you then."
"Yes, ma'am. 'Til we meet again."
She laughed to herself as she hung up and pocketed the phone again.
Maybe she did have a huge decision to make, but she had time enough to think about all that. And in the meantime, she might as well have some fun with an invigorating and certainly diverting nerd.
—
Sarah pulled her hair up into a messy bun, looked at it from all angles, and took it out again, letting out an annoyed huff.
With years of training and experience under her belt, it should have been easy for her to put together a look that was both casual and enticing. Oversized pajamas weren't a good look for her. Something loose perhaps? Something that showed off her figure but was still comfortable? After all, they'd be lounging, eating, watching movies, drinking champagne…
The smirk on her face died as she realized she still hadn't solved her problem, and she growled to herself in frustration, walking into her bedroom and flopping down onto the bed with a huff. Not just about how to do her hair, or what to wear…but also about the CIA.
It was such a monumental decision.
A monumental decision she didn't want to think about just now.
So she focused on her clothes, what she knew she had. What each pair of pants, each blouse, each dress had to offer and which part of her person it highlighted the best. It was mentally draining, so she settled on a black pair of jeans that weren't so tight around the waist, and a blue button-up blouse. If nothing else, it made her eyes bluer.
Deciding to stop acting like a high schooler getting ready for a first date, and knowing Chuck was the type of guy who wouldn't care in the least what she was wearing, or what her hair looked like, she simply ran her brush through her golden locks and shrugged a black leather jacket on over her blouse. Just in case they changed their plans and went out for dinner or for dessert, or for a casual stroll or something.
She stepped into her pumps and finally left her suite at 5:25.
Arriving at 5 exactly would have been a little desperate, and she didn't want to wait until 6.
And by the time she got to Chuck's room, it was quite nearly 5:30. Perfect.
He answered almost immediately after she knocked, a massive and charming grin on his face. But the grin died immediately as he took in her appearance. "Oh."
Oh was right. He was definitely wearing plaid pajama pants and a nondescript white T-shirt. And he was barefoot and all ruffled and comfortable looking.
"So you meant…casual casual," she said, trying not to laugh at the look on his face. "I didn't pick up on that."
"Crap, no. I'm—Wait, come on. I mean, come in. Come in, please." He stepped back and opened the door for her, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand as she moved inside.
He shut the door behind her, his cheeks a little red. "I'm—This is—Make yourself at home and I'll be right back, okay?"
She blinked as he scrambled towards his room and disappeared inside. Not entirely sure of what to do, Sarah pressed her lips together, raised her eyebrows, and swept her gaze around the room. The sun hadn't gone down all the way yet and wouldn't for another hour and a half or so, and the rays were beaming through the window.
His suite looked the same as it had last night, except that the area around the television looked more cluttered.
She walked closer, checking it out. He had apparently gone out and bought some movies, as well as hooked up his laptop to the TV. Did her hotel suite come with a cable? Could she hook her laptop up to the television, too? Not that she even knew what she would do with that, but it would still be cool to know she had some options.
And video games. Of course there were video games.
If he brought it up, she supposed she'd have no qualms about trying it at least. He didn't seem like the sort of guy who would force her to spend the whole night with a controller in her hand. Although maybe she'd misjudged him.
It wouldn't be the first time she would've misjudged Chuck Bartowski. He was a rare breed of a man.
And unlike anything she'd expected when she spoke to him the first time.
She didn't have a chance to muse further on the subject, though, because she heard the door to his bedroom open. Turning to look over her shoulder, she couldn't help but giggle in utter amusement. He had on brown pants and a light blue button up shirt that he unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
And he'd purposefully leaned against the doorframe, his arm raised up over his head in a hilariously, stereotypically GQ photo shoot fashion. "Heeey," he drawled, pushing his other hand through his hair.
Sarah knew he was putting on a show to make her laugh, and it was working, but she also couldn't help but find the entire production to be pretty hot. Not just because he looked hot, but because he saw what she was wearing and hurried to change so that they were both at the same level of casual. And he was making fun of himself a little in the meantime.
It was almost too charming. But she wasn't complaining.
"Next month's GQ cover, right there," she said, slow clapping for him.
"Yeeeah, well…" He shrugged in faux modesty, lowering his arm and standing up straight, sticking his hands in his pockets to slowly meander a little closer. "Beachy casual sexiness is kinda my…middle name…sooo…"
She snorted. "Beachy casual sexiness is your middle name, huh?"
"Yes. Yes it is."
Then he dropped the act and stood up to his full height, throwing his shoulders back and raising his chin, gesturing to himself. "So? Now we're equally casual. And I don't look like a total bum anymore."
Sarah closed the distance between them and meticulously wrapped her fingers in his shirt, tugging teasingly. "You didn't look half bad before, to be honest. And if I'd picked up on just how casual you meant, I would have put on my PJs. I think you'd like those. A lot."
She let him ponder what she meant by that for a bit.
He seemed to get a lot of enjoyment out of doing just that, a slow smile growing on his lips. "You're making me regret I wasn't more clear. Clearer, rather."
She wrinkled her nose. "Only decision you should regret right now is this shirt being unbuttoned this much." Laughing at his slightly embarrassed look of question, she buttoned his shirt up, leaving just the top two unbuttoned.
"Was it too Fabio?"
"A little," she said with a wince. "But it was also pretty freakin' cute."
He blushed which only made him that much cuter.
"Yes, well…I was going for suave and I ended up with cute, so that's kind of the story of my life."
"Oh, stop. Such a martyr," she chuckled. "You know, sometimes suavity isn't all it's cracked up to be, Chuck." She paused for a moment, sobering just a little without meaning to. "It tends to be a little insincere. Trust me, I know."
He stuffed his hands back into his pockets a little shyly. "Have some bad experiences with suave guys? You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."
Sarah loved that he tacked that on at the end without even having to think about it. Consistently thoughtful and sweet, this one was.
She smiled and shrugged. "There's not much to say. I've known enough suave guys to know that they aren't all that great. On the other hand, guys who are cute and sincere? They're a little more rare, but those are the really good ones."
That made him smile slowly and she felt for a moment like she was standing on hot coals. Or in a giant oven. She just felt warm suddenly.
"Well, I don't think you're going to have to worry all that much about me being suave." There was some self-deprecation in the crooked, closed-mouth smile and she wanted to stamp it out.
"Chuck, you should know…being suave isn't the same thing as being charming. What I mean is, you don't need to be suave to charm me. You've been doing a pretty good job without it so far."
"Have I been?" He made a 'huh' face, then smiled down at her affectionately. "You're sweet, Sarah. Thanks."
And there was that sincerity, making her feel a little lightheaded. She decided to steer the conversation away from the schmaltz now, and grabbed his hand. "I'm hungry. What are we doing for eats?"
"For eats?" He laughed. "Speaking of cute."
She giggled, looking down to hide her slight blush. Being with him made her innately playful, and too many out of character dorky things had come out of her mouth as of late. "Shut up. I'm serious. I only had a cheese plate for lunch. And a banana. I'm hungry. Oh, and a piña colada. But that doesn't count."
"Depends. How big was the piña colada?"
"Oh like…" She held her fingers up a few inches apart. "And…" She showed him the height of the drink.
He wrinkled his nose in amusement, then hurried around her to the coffee table, picking up a menu and thrusting it out for her to take. "Order whatever you want off of here. I'm putting it all on my bill."
"What? No! You've definitely been paying for more stuff than me during this whole…" What was this? A relationship? They hadn't classified it as anything yet. They weren't really dating. There was a permanence to that word…or at least more permanence than Sarah was prepared for. They were having sex. "…thing," she finally settled on. She nearly winced at how it sounded.
But Chuck didn't seem to notice. "So what?"
"So that's not fair."
"We'll even it out eventually. Don't worry about it." He was so completely not bothered by it that she sighed and relented. She really didn't know how well his business was doing, and if it wasn't doing all that well, she didn't like the idea of him spending a bunch of money on her. She wasn't worth it. Especially considering she'd be a non-factor in his life after all of this. And because that wasn't a particularly jolly thought, she shoved it to the back of her mind and sat on the arm of the couch, her eyes roving over the room service menu.
"I've been told by my sister and her fiancé that the room service food is, to quote Devon, 'Awesome!' So I think that no matter what you get, it'll be a safe bet." Chuck shrugged and moved to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder. She loved the feeling of his body pressed against her back.
She settled her mind as best she could and decided to just enjoy. Salmon with capers. Vegetables. Salad. A basket of bread. Roasted tomato pasta.
For now, those were topmost on her thoughts.
—
"Okay, but…just think about it, though, it—"
"I don't want to think about it. I want to watch this movie."
"I—But—"
Sarah reached out and gently put her pointer finger against his lips, smirking at the flat look he sent her. "Shhh. Movie."
He held up his hands in surrender and she melted back into the couch cushions, her legs curled underneath her as she watched the romance unfold on the screen. They were about an hour into their first movie, the cart with all of their dirty dishes from dinner pushed out into the hallway.
They kept the champagne, however.
Sarah leaned forward to pick up her champagne flute, sipping from it and setting it back down again.
Chuck sat about a foot away, staring at the screen, looking less relaxed than she felt, she suddenly realized. He didn't look anxious or anything like that. Just a little…rigid. As though he wasn't comfortable.
Ignoring the movie, she pursed her lips and reached out to nudge his arm with her fist. "You okay?"
He turned to look at her. "Yes. Yes I am. I'm just dandy. Why? What's up?"
"Nothing. I just noticed you don't look very…comfortable."
"Nahh, no. I'm totally—totes. I'm totes comfy."
She snorted and shook her head, turning to face him directly and resting her cheek on the arm she had propped on the back of the couch. "Is it me?"
"What? No, not at all!" He relaxed into the couch and smiled. "See? I'm relaxed."
"Chuck. I'm really good at being able to tell when a person is lying or deflecting. It's part of my job."
When he frowned curiously, she realized the mistake she'd just made and she did her best not to show her terror on her face. "A translator has to know when people are lying?"
"No, that's—that's not what I meant. It's just that I watch body language all day long with a job like that. I've gotten really good at reading body language." She shrugged nonchalantly. "And I can tell you're uncomfortable right now, in this moment," she rushed on, trying to change the trajectory of the conversation.
"Well it isn't you," he said immediately. "It's me."
She frowned. "I thought people only tried that one in bad TV shows."
"No! No, no. I'm sorry!" He twisted to face her, putting his right leg up on the couch so that he could look at her easier. "I just haven't done anything like this in forever. Had a woman over. And this—this is an unconventional situation. And even if it were conventional, I wouldn't really know—it's like, do I put my arm around you? Do we lean together? Or do we just sit and stare at the TV like this?" He gestured between them. "You know what I mean?"
Sarah couldn't help it. She had to laugh at him. But then she felt bad when he turned red as a tomato. "Oh no. No, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel bad," she said, scooting closer and putting a hand on his arm. "I've just never met anybody like you before."
"Woefully inexperienced?" he gaped at him for a second. "Hold on. You actually think you're woefully inexperienced?"
"Is this little scene that I caused right here not evidence of that?" he asked in a droll voice.
"No. I don't think it is." If anyone was woefully inexperienced, it was Sarah. At least when it came to relationships. Whether they were romantic or not. And she could keep telling herself that this wasn't a full-fledged romance. But the more she allowed herself to stop freaking out about it, the more she realized this was already the most romance-y relationship she'd ever been in. After just a few days. And she had no clue how to handle that.
"Chuck, your little problem with not knowing how we should sit on the couch while watching a movie together is perfectly normal. I think. Not that I'm experienced at all," she felt the need to emphasize.
He obviously didn't believe her. And she found at least one fault with this man. While he was obviously drawn to her for reasons other than just her physical appearance, he still fell prey to the stereotype that a beautiful woman must have many lovers and a lot of experience.
It was simply untrue. She was proof of that.
Granted, the life she lived was very unconventional.
"I'm not just saying that," she said pointedly, giving him a look. "Chuck, my job has taken up so much of my life—my whole life, actually—I really don't have time for anything else. I finish an assignment, I jet off to another assignment, and then another and another…This is the first time in years I've not been assigned to anything for an extended period of time." She shrugged. "So I'm not experienced. If you noticed, I'm sitting all the way over here."
"I feel like this whole conversation is super high school," he said quietly, wincing.
"It really is."
And just as she finished getting the last word out, Chuck scooted closer to her, grabbing her arm and tugging her into his body, gently cupping her face as he kissed her. It wasn't a hard kiss or particularly heated. It was passionate, sweet. It was exactly what they'd needed to break the ice this whole time.
Without places to go and things to do, without the buzz of too much wine or the invigorating night air and a nearby bed to leap into together, it seemed they'd both been unsure. Once dinner was over, they had both turned into shy teenagers without even realizing it.
Once Sarah did realize it, as they pulled back from the kiss and looked into one another's eyes, she decided this was one of the sweetest things that had ever happened to her. Nothing—nobody—had ever reduced Sarah Walker to feeling like a teenager. She'd never felt like a teenager even when she was an actual teenager, for God's sake.
She'd never been allowed. Rather, she'd never allowed herself. She was partly to blame for it.
But this moment right here, as she let a short giggle bubble up from her chest, was one of the most normal things she'd ever experienced. Even as it was extraordinary. It was extraordinarily normal.
She scooted even closer and turned to tuck herself into his side, molding into his body and reaching up to take his arm and drape it around her shoulders. "How's this?" she asked.
There was a short pause, and then a soft, "This is good."
And they stayed that was for the rest of the film, as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. It wasn't until the movie was finished that they realized the entire suite was dark, nothing but moonlight.
They both stood up and started turning on various lamps around the room until Sarah found herself stuck at the window, looking out at the beautiful sight that stretched before her. Her own suite gave her a slightly different angle of the French Riviera, a lower angle. But it wasn't any less beautiful.
She felt him behind her, his reflection faint against the glass in front of her as he folded his arms and stared out at the view.
"I know. Every single night. This is honestly the most beautiful place I've ever been to in my life."
Sarah didn't know the most beautiful place she'd ever been to. She'd never really stopped to look. And suddenly she was filled with melancholy. "This is the first time I've ever had the time to see a place. Really see it."
"Man, you are a workaholic, huh?"
She smiled a little, careful not to let him see the hint of sadness. Missed opportunities. She'd been to places some people would never get to see in their lifetime. She'd seen wonders. But she'd never actually taken the chance to wonder at them.
There was no way in hell she was letting this place pass her by, though.
She decided then and there. In that very moment, standing at the window with Chuck behind her.
No matter what her decision was come Monday, it was ending here. She would enjoy this beautiful city. She would enjoy the beach. She would enjoy the man she'd inadvertently begun to share it all with.
"I was, yeah. Before this."
"Has Nice made you into a changed woman?"
She smirked. "Well, it's made me try new things, that's for sure."
"Like what? For instance."
"Picking up nerds on the beach, for instance."
Sarah laughed happily when he playfully wrapped his arms around her and tickled her, stopping before she had time to retaliate.
"Well, I've never been picked up on a beach," he said. "By anyone. Let alone by a stunning, modeling-contract-worthy blonde who knows 11 languages."
She just smiled, deciding to keep to herself just how many firsts she'd experienced just with him in these last few days. The things she'd told him, the ways she'd let him in where she'd never let anyone in before. The way sex had somehow morphed into something deeper, something so much better, when she was in his arms.
"Hey. So. Idea."
She turned her head to look up at him and let him know she was listening.
"We should play a video game. You don't have to!" he said quickly, squeezing her with his arms a little to emphasize what he was saying. Then he let go and stepped around her, leaning back against the wall. "But I think you'd like it. You seem like the competitive type."
Sarah's jaw dropped. "I seem like the competitive type? Or I could kick your ass!" she said, unable to keep from smiling.
He laughed and shook his head. "I didn't mean it as a bad thing, geeeez! I like that in a woman!" Chuck had his fingers wrapped around her wrists then, pulling her closer. "Fiery!"
She glared a little and then grinned. "Fine. We'll play your silly video games. And I'll destroy you."
"That's the spirit!" he said, laughing as he snuck out from where she had him pinned to the wall. "Right, so… Fighting game? RPG? Shooter? Sports?"
Sarah twisted her lips to the side, looking up at the ceiling and squinting thoughtfully. She thought maybe she'd be pretty good at a shooter. Real life experience and all that. So she shrugged. "Shooter."
"Good choice! Do you want to play one of the super popular shooters like Call of Duty or HALO? Or do you want to play mine?" He backed away from her towards the television where his game console was.
"Yours?" She followed him slowly. "Like, do you mean it's a game you made?"
"Me and my people. They used my plans, my art concepts, my general plot concept, and we all worked together—You know, just to make this easy, I'll say my company made it. Yeah. That's better." He smiled and reached down to pick it up, walking over and thrusting it out in front of her.
"Wallace-16?" She quirked an eyebrow up at him.
"Yeah, it's a multiplayer shooter. You can play online with other people. Or not. There's a storyline, too. But I can start you off with just the two of us on a simple map so that you can get the hang of the controls."
"You just said a whole bunch of stuff that made very little sense to me. But sure. I'll follow your lead."
He chuckled and knelt down to set it up. Sarah's gaze dragged from his curly hair, down his back, and landed on his backside. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.
She mused so long on how much she liked said backside that he nearly caught her staring as he looked at her over his shoulder. Thankfully, she caught his eye quickly and he seemed none the wiser.
"So. There are 16 characters to choose from," he said as the game started.
"Hence the 16 part of the title?"
"Exactly! Boy, you catch on fast." She gave him a flat look and he laughed again.
"What about the Wallace part? What's that?"
"Oh. Right. That. Well." He took a deep breath. "I had a buddy I was close with at Stanford. He was really big on shooters and video games in general, but mostly shooters. And he had this whole idea about a video game of soldiers…warriors, really…who are taken from different parts of the world and sent off to other planets to basically compete in these deadly battles that will eventually avert the annihilation of humankind as we know it. Anyways, that was gonna be the first game we made. But he had a driving accident the summer after I graduated."
Sarah's stomach dropped and the small smile on her face from listening to him talk about the video game faded quickly. "Oh, God," she said quietly. "Chuck, I'm so sorry."
"Nahhh, I mean…it was awhile ago now. Over five years. We all sort of moved on, but this game was his idea. It was his baby. He talked about it to everyone even if they didn't want to hear it." He chuckled as he stood up and looked down at the case. "Made him a little unpopular at parties sometimes."
Sarah giggled at that. "His name was Wallace, huh?"
"Phil Wallace. Thus…Wallace-16."
She didn't really know what else to say. He didn't look like he needed comforting or anything, which meant he probably had made peace with the loss of his friend. Or at least he'd learned to live with it.
"Well, crank it up."
"It's crankin'!"
He grabbed the two controllers and hopped over the coffee table, landing on the couch with a grunt and turned to face the television as he offered her one.
She took it and watched as an emblem slowly appeared on the screen. "SOLO?" she asked. "Is that your company?"
"Yup. Like Han."
She furrowed her brow. "I mean, I know that's a Star thing. Those movies from the 70s. With Harrison Ford and whatnot. But you made that your company name?"
"Yeah. I always told myself I would never name my company after myself. Not my style. So I chose my hero's name. And anyways, it's kinda catchy, don't you think? SOLO Games."
She wasn't that surprised he hadn't named his company after himself.
"You named your video game company after Han Solo." She chuckled and shook her head. "God, you're a nerd."
"I'm not even gonna deny it. You don't even know the full extent yet, and I'm gonna shut up while I'm behind, huh?" He winced and shook his head as the start menu came up.
"You're not behind," she said, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. "Hey, look! Women! Is this one of those games you put female characters in to be more inclusive of women gamers?"
Chuck turned to stare at her for a long moment. "You were actually listening to me when I was rambling about that…?"
"Of course I was. I told you it was interesting. I may not know anything about video games, but I'm a good listener. And I have a memory like a trap. That's also part of the job."
"11 languages," he said, smiling.
"11 languages."
He turned back to set up 2-player Versus Mode. And he chose his character first, a man who looked a little bit like him, except with more facial hair. And maybe more muscle definition. It was a video game, after all. She assumed there weren't very many realistic proportions with these characters. If people get to choose who they play a game as, they're always going to go for the character they want to be the most like. Men choose the muscle-bound manly men. Women…Well, thanks to Chuck, she had seven women to choose from. They all were different heights, had different hair colors. Their was a woman from Japan, a woman from Russia, a woman from Ghana, an American, a Brazilian, a Norwegian, and a New Zealander. They all had different symbols on their armor, epic names, and even cooler helmets they were holding under their arms. She chose
Sarah scrolled to the Norwegian character because of the woman's blond hair and slim build. It helped that she had a lion holding an ax on her helmet. She said that part out loud as she picked the character and watched the screen switch to level settings.
But when Chuck didn't do anything for a few moments, she frowned and turned to look at him.
He was staring, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"What?" she asked, tilting her head.
"No, uh…nothing. You're just…This is going to sound really—You know what, Chuck? Then don't say it. Nothing, never mind."
"Well, now you have t—"
"You're so hot."
She blinked. "…Because I chose the girl who looks like me? You chose the guy who looks like you."
"No, just…The whole lion with the ax thing. I created this character and specifically made her Norwegian because their royal standard is a lion standing on its hind legs holding an ax. I thought it was so tight and I wanted her to be super enveloped in her own culture and super proud of Norway. But also a bad ass. I mean, they're all bad asses. They're warriors going off to another planet to kick alien warrior ass. God, I am a nerd. You're just really hot, that's all. That was the point I was trying to make. You're hot for liking the lion with the ax."
Sometimes she had so much trouble pegging him. Just in general.
"Sorry, it's just—it's bad ass that you like something so…bad ass. And bad ass is hot." He cleared his throat and looked back at the screen. "My sister always picks Serwa, the one from Ghana, because Serwa is also a doctor."
"Ahh yes," Sarah said, smiling. "Your sister would choose the doctor. As she is a doctor."
"Exactly. She's very predictable that way. Okay, ready?"
They started the game and Sarah was a little thrown off by the way the screen split. "Which one am I?" she asked. She couldn't tell because it was first person point of view. All she could see were metallic, gray buildings, dirt ground, some crates, and two hands wrapped around a semi-automatic weapon.
"You're on the bottom. I'm on the top."
"Hmmm…" She smirked, giving him a seductive side-eye. "I prefer being on top."
He choked a little and she felt that satisfaction from winning begin to trickle through her body, but then he gave her a heated look and responded with a deep, "I prefer you on top, too, but unfortunately that's not how the game works."
Could they just skip the video games now and…?
No, she told him she was going to play this video game with him. But God, he basically just told her outright that he liked her on top and if that wasn't the sexiest thing any man had ever said to her, she'd swan dive off of her balcony right now.
"Sarah…Hey…Silje."
She shook her head a little and smirked. He'd called her by her character's name to get her attention. It was cute. "Yes, Remo?" His character was Greek. And she couldn't help but think Chuck himself looked a little Greek. That soft, curly dark hair and brown eyes that went goldish green when he was inside of her.
"The buttons."
She shook herself again. "Right, right. The buttons."
He seemed altogether too pleased with himself for his comeback and the reaction it got from her. She'd let him have it, she supposed, paying attention very closely as he showed her how to shoot, how to switch weapons, how to hit the opponent in what he called "melee attack". He showed her how to jump, run, duck, aim, climb.
And as they got going, he even made himself an easy target for her so that she could take him out. It was sweet how he tried to pretend he wasn't doing it on purpose. But he created this game. He had to be amazing at it.
That wasn't to say he didn't sneak around and knife her in the back a few times, for which he received a beating of his own. He just laughed and threw his hands up to defend himself.
He finally deemed her ready to "go it alone", and signed her in on his own account. She didn't want to fuss with making her own character and her own account. At least that was what she said outwardly.
But Sarah knew if she created her own character and her own account, it would be on his system forever. Or at least until he deleted it. And she wasn't sure she wanted this extraordinary man to cling to the memory of some woman he met during a long vacation in Nice. Not when he could find someone who wasn't an assassin, someone who could settle down. Someone with an actual name that she was actually born with…a birth certificate and an identity. Someone normal and just as good as he was.
So she opted out and instead used his account.
"You sure you don't mind?" she asked for the third time as he talked her through joining an ongoing, open game. "Like, are people gonna recognize who you are and see that you're sucking and your company gets horrible PR? Or what if I mess with your stats or something?"
He simply chuckled and made a face, shaking his head. "I don't give a shit about my stats. You can die 100 times in a row for all I care. I mean, you won't. You're actually super good for only having been playing this for an hour."
"Yeah, but I was only playing against you and you were letting me win. There are like, what, 15 people in here?"
"But it's also a bigger map. And I'm right here next to you. I've got your back. I'll tell you what to do." She sent him a look and he held his hands up in surrender. "If you need me to!" he hurried. "Only if you need me to."
Sarah died immediately and gave him a closed-mouth smile. "Apparently I need you to."
"Nah, that guy is a giant turd. I've gone up against him before. He has pwn and n00bs with zeros instead of o's in his name. That's how you know someone is a douche." That made her laugh, even though she had no idea what the hell any of that meant. "Oh! Hey! See that? You can see his head moving just over the crate."
"I see him."
"Weapon #3. It has a scope."
She followed his advice, aimed, and put a bullet through the Colombian character's helmet. "I did it! I killed him!"
Chuck threw his arms up in celebration. "See? Now don't kill this guy. He's on your team."
"Hey, it's Remo!" She paused. "Wait, aren't you Remo?"
"Well, there are only 16 characters. And you can customize Remo's armor and stuff. So usually all the Remo's have the same face and body and voice, but different armor."
"That makes sense."
She kept playing, ending up killing 6 players on the other team and dying only once. Chuck helped her out, showing her tactics, secret passage ways, how to get up on top of buildings and throw some sort of energy alien grenade down on the enemy below, and then hurrying back down off the roof before the enemy sniper could pick her off.
Just as she was really starting to enjoy it, Chuck's phone rang where it sat on the coffee table. Because she didn't feel entirely comfortable playing without him watching and helping, and because she sincerely didn't want to screw up his stats just in case people knew he was the creator, Sarah figured out how to pull herself out of the game for the time being.
"You don't have to do that," he said, leaning forward to grab his phone. "You can keep playing."
"Um, no. That's fine."
He smirked and she knew he saw right through her nonchalant display. And then he had the phone pressed to his ear. "Hey, El! How's it goin'?"
She heard a feminine voice but couldn't tell what she was saying. El. His sister. She was admittedly curious about the woman who seemed to mean so much to Chuck, who for all intents and purposes had a huge hand in making Chuck the man he was today.
And what a man.
"Mhm. Well, that sounds fun. Tell Awesome I said not to get into another dance off. He almost hurt somebody last time."
Sarah heard an annoyed growl and Chuck giggled, making her smile.
"Uh…noooo, no. Thanks for the invite but, um, I'm good… Because, Ellie. …I don't want to go out to a club as a third wheel. …Ellie, I don't want to meet some random woman at a club. I don't care if she is French." He rolled his eyes dramatically at Sarah and she smiled wider. "Seriously. Sis. Don't worry about me. I'm actually having the time of my life," he said as he looked at her with more meaning than Sarah was altogether prepared for. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest.
Then he paused and his eyes got a lot wider. "Whaaaat? Noooo," he drawled unconvincingly. "I'm not playing video games."
Sarah had to cover her mouth quickly to keep from his sister hearing her laughter and she ended up with a pillow in her face. When she sat up again, she glared dangerously.
Maybe she was fighting with fire, but she was in a playful mood after doing relatively well at Wallace-16, and the champagne hadn't hurt…So she slid up close to him and started tickling his sides, then up under his arms.
He looked terrified for a split second and did his best to fight her off one-handed.
She was a trained killer, though, and a one-handed, sweet-natured, non-violent man had absolutely no defense against her. She was verging on relentless as he tried to continue his conversation with his sister.
"STOP IT," he mouthed, before saying, "Yes well…you two have fun out there on the dance floor."
Sarah continued her tickling as he squirmed and she found a foot pressed against her chest, trying to push her away as he fell onto his back.
"What? Uh, nothing. Just trying to, uh, change my pants. While talking to you. Yeeaah, I've never really been that great at multitas—" He broke off to giggle as Sarah apparently met with his ticklish spot. She would store that knowledge away for future use. "No, no. I'm just laughing because I fell over. …Yeah, yeah, maybe I should hang up so I can get my pants on without killing myself."
Sarah crawled on top of him and mouthed, "Pants off", causing him to press his lips together in warning, his eyes bulging again.
"Okay have fun bye!"
He hung up and tossed his phone onto the table. The only warning Sarah had for what was coming was a quick flash of vengeance in his brown eyes, and then he flipped them over, ending up on top of her, his weight pressing her into the corner of the couch. His fingers were up her shirt and against her bare skin immediately, tickling her without even an ounce of restraint.
"No!" she yelped, laughing hard and throwing her head back.
She hated even the concept of being tickled. And yes, she'd just done it to Chuck, but…that was different.
She locked her legs around his waist and quickly got a stronghold on both of his wrists, forcing his arms behind his back and holding them there.
Chuck's eyes widened and he glanced back a little before peering down at her. "How the hell are you—Wait I'm gonna sneeze!"
Sarah gasped and let go of him, covering her face to keep from being sneezed on, but she felt his fingers wiggle against her torso relentlessly instead.
"You jerk!" she squealed, laughing uproariously.
"No mercy!" he called out, his grin wild.
As much as she enjoyed feeling his weight on top of her, his hips wriggling against hers, she needed the tickling to stop.
It took her less than two seconds to get him pinned face down to the couch, twisting one of his arms behind his back, a knee pressing into his backside as she leaned over him. She eased up on him immediately, since he wasn't an actual attacker.
A spike of worry went through her. She'd definitely overdone it. He'd think she was insane. He'd be afraid of her.
But then he began to laugh in absolute awe, his cheek was smashed up against the couch cushion. And to think she'd been terrified of his reaction.
Sure, she didn't do anything that could hurt him, but showing her cards like that, showing him what she was capable of…
And here he was laughing. "Holy crap! You're a ninja, too?!"
She eased off of him and let his arm go, letting him turn over and gape up at her as she sat on his legs with a look of satisfaction on her face that she didn't entirely feel. "I'm not a ninja. I've taken a few self-defense classes."
"Well, that was some straight-up ninja shit. And super impressive," he said, rubbing his arm. "Can you show me another one?"
The look on his face was verging on seductive, and she honestly didn't understand this man and the things that seemed to turn him on. Picking video game characters? Getting his ass kicked?
"Try to tickle me ever again, and I'll have no choice."
He surged up, his hands out in front of him, but she'd seen it coming a mile away. She'd practically invited it. So she quickly leapt over his head completely, bracing her hand against his shoulder to turn in the air, then brought her arm around his neck, catching him in a gentle chokehold as she landed on her knees on the other side of him.
"Hckkkk! Wow, okay," he wheezed, but then he struggled against her, laughing and turning to try to pin her. He was adorable but so bad at this. Granted, he was much stronger than she had anticipated and was putting up a good fight.
They were tangled together on the couch for a few minutes, wrestling and laughing.
She would end up on top, sitting on his chest, and then he would flip her to the other end of the couch and scramble over to pin her down, holding her arms above her head.
Sarah laughed, squirming against him to get more comfortable on the couch. "You think I can't get out of this?"
"Ten minutes ago I would've said no, but now I'm pretty sure ya can," he said, and she could feel him breathing, his chest heaving as he rested his weight on her.
"That's a pretty safe answer, there, Chuck."
"Well, I'm a pretty safe guy."
There was something underneath that, whether he knew it or not. He was safe. But not in a bad way. Chuck Bartowski had proven himself to be an incredibly thoughtful, selfless guy. Warm. Kind. Caring. Giving. All of the components to make a girl feel safe with him. And Sarah did feel safe with him, even if the things he was making her feel were potentially dangerous.
She couldn't allow herself to get buried in his charms. He just had so many charms. More than all the men she'd known before him put together. And then some. But if she lost herself in this, if she allowed for thoughts of a potential future to sneak in, it would cloud her judgment. She couldn't let that happen.
It might ruin both their lives.
And yet, she wouldn't stop this. She couldn't. The right thing would be to get out of here while she still had the strength, hide from him for the next few days, meet Graham's informant, and disappear. But she couldn't do it.
Maybe she could.
And it was simply that she didn't want to.
Instead, she wanted to feel him against her, she wanted the laughter, she wanted to play video games with him hovering over her shoulder and pointing out the bad guys, and she wanted to keep seeing that smile he gave her in quiet moments. A real, sincere smile without the bells and whistles of the spy game.
Was she selfish? Yes.
And as she started to struggle against him, trying to loosen his grip on her wrists, she found she didn't care all that much.
All it took was a quick swivel of her hips, a leg wrapped over him, and a powerful throw of her weight, before he was the one yelping and ending up on his back.
He laughed, shaking his head with an impressed look on his face. "You seriously are the sexiest woman I've ever known. Hot damn."
"Did you just say 'hot damn' to me?" she asked, cracking up. She sat up at the end of the couch and put a hand on her chest as she continued to laugh.
"Shut up, it's a compliment."
"I know, I'm sorry," she said through her laughter, reaching out to put a hand on his shin and squeeze. "I just haven't heard anyone say hot damn…ever. At least not since the nineties."
He gave her a flat look and sat up to face her. Again, she got a brief flash of warning when his eyes turned mischievous for a split second before he pounced on her, tugging her down to lie beneath him on the couch as he worked to pin her arms to her sides.
She let him, even though she could've employed numerous tactics to get him on his back again. They stayed that way, his hands holding her wrists to her sides, his weight causing her to sink into the cushions comfortably, their legs tangled together.
As she looked up at him, the air felt like it was charged with more than just playfulness or competition. It was an immediate heat that spilled over her, and he must have felt it, too, because he met her halfway when she leaned up to kiss him.
They came together hard and fast, and when he let go of her arms, she buried a hand in his hair and rounded his shoulders with her other arm.
Their playful wrestling session would turn into sex. Like a typical romantic comedy. But she didn't care, not with the way his hand snuck between their bodies and cupped her breast over her shirt and bra. And when his tongue licked over her lips, she sighed and opened her mouth to him, rocking her hips against his.
It took him a bit of time to get her shirt unbuttoned, as he seemed to be taking care of it for some odd reason. Or maybe he was purposefully slowing things down. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the painstaking path his lips were making down her chest and abdomen as he undid each button from top to bottom. And then he opened his mouth at her belly button and licked over her skin, earning a heady whimper at the sensations.
Sarah took things in her own hands, then, sitting up slightly to shrug her shirt off and immediately unclasping her bra to toss that to the side as well, leaving her totally naked from the waist up. And then she set her fingers to his shirt, undoing the buttons she'd just done up a few hours ago when she first arrived and he came out looking like a 1980s sex symbol.
As she worked at undressing him, he dove forward and captured her breast in his mouth. Sarah's head tilted back with a sigh and a wide grin, still trying to push his shirt over his shoulders to rid him of it.
But he was just too good with his mouth and she gave up on the shirt, leaving it still clinging to his biceps as he pulled her body to his, opening his mouth even further and flicking her nipple with his tongue.
She whimpered and hugged his head closer, shutting her eyes and enjoying the way his hands gripped the muscles in her back.
Chuck lowered her to lie back against the couch cushions again, stripping himself of the shirt and immediately undoing the front of her jeans. That sound of the zipper sliding down so slowly, the feeling of his mouth just on the waistline of her panties…She felt a bit of wildness deep down inside of her begin to come out.
She arched her hips as he snuck his fingers under the waistband.
He peeled her jeans and panties down her legs, dropping them to the floor next to the couch, before standing up to push his own pants down and step out of them.
Sarah stared at him, taking the time to run her blue eyes over ever last curve of muscle and warm, tan skin, the hair on his body, watching as he climbed back over her, a pillow in his hand. He gently lifted her head and pushed the pillow beneath it, raising his eyebrows in question and seeming satisfied with her nod.
Then his weight was against her again, the heat of his naked body melding with her own, their chests pressing together as her nipples hardened to points against his pecks. He pressed his hand between them and stroked his fingers down her front, sliding them over her entrance, probably to get her wet.
It wasn't necessary.
She was practically on fire for him the moment he started undressing her.
He pulled his hand away and kissed her.
This time when he entered her, he was propped up on his elbows, peering down into her face, letting out a soft sigh of satisfaction as he gently pushed deeper and deeper.
Sarah whimpered and bent her legs a little at his waist, dragging her hands down his back and clinging to him at the delicious curve right above his ass. "That's it," she whispered, moaning his name.
He moved slowly, and she was easily able to match his rhythm with gentle strokes of her own. Arching his back, he kissed her, and neither of them felt the need to pull away for quite some time as they thrusted together.
Sarah's hand slipped down of its own volition to grab his ass, kneading it in time with his thrusts, and he whimpered into the kiss. He pulled his face away from hers and propped himself up again.
And when he reached down to grab her leg that wasn't pressed against the couch back, wrapping his arm behind her knee and bending it back so that her thigh was pressed against her torso, she felt his cock slide deeper inside of her.
"Oh yes!" she gasped. She knew she must look ridiculous as she opened her mouth wide in ecstasy and whimpered his name, but she didn't care. It just felt so amazing.
Then he shifted to press his right foot against the floor next to the couch, turning her body so that her ass was on the edge of the cushion, still holding her leg up, and he started making his thrusts harder. "Ah! Sarah!"
She whined his name, reaching up with one hand to twist her fingers in the pillow under her head, and grabbing at Chuck's bicep with the other.
All she could do was hold on as he started pounding into her, squirming in absolute bliss, biting her lip and whimpering.
With such a quick and powerful pace, Sarah was quick to reach her climax, crying out and slamming her fist against the arm of the couch behind her head when it crashed over her.
He stroked her body and kissed the swell of her breasts over and over, easing her down from her climax before pulling himself out of her and slumping to his knees next to the couch, letting her leg down and resting his forehead against her thigh.
"Ooooh, shit," she breathed, covering her face with her hands. Sarah peered down at Chuck and pushed a hand through his hair, smiling to herself at the deliciously pleased look on his face. She just wanted to stay like this forever. Stay with him forever.
But that thought was too dangerous, and in highly pleasurable, physical moments like this, it was best to avoid dangerous thoughts.
Thanks for reading! Next chapter continues very soon after this one ends, so stay tuned!
Please review. I appreciate it!
SarahsSupplyCloset