The Trapped Assassin
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: If ANY of you are left after this long hiatus, thank you. Seriously. Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. And to those of you sending me PMs, I appreciate all of the conversations. Keeps my brain going!
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I'm not making any money.
The sun felt almost hot on her back as she sat astride her board, swaying with the soft, small waves as she waited for a big one to ride back into the beach. She'd been out here for over an hour now and had only really caught a scant few good waves. It was just one of those mornings, she supposed, as she glanced over her shoulder towards the shore.
It was then that she spotted him.
A man was paddling out to her, lying on top of his board, a smirk on his face.
And as he neared, he pushed himself to sit like her, skillfully turning his board so that he was facing her. "Speak English?" he asked. He was an American, with dark, semi-long black hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head, and he was built well, with an attractive face.
For a a few seconds, Sarah contemplated speaking German and pretending she didn't know English. But then she thought maybe that was a little mean. So she shrugged. "Yeah."
"Oh! American? Lucky me." He smiled. "Catch any good ones?"
"Not enough."
"Not the best day for us surfers. But it's nice out."
She merely nodded.
"I'm Phil." He stretched his hand out and she took it, meeting his strong grip with one of her own. He seemed impressed by it and nodded towards shore. "Vacationing? Or do you live here? Let me guess. You live here and give surf lessons."
She let out an amused huff. "Vacationing."
"So I was wrong," he said with a charming grin and a shrug. "I'm sorry, I, uh…didn't catch your name."
There was nothing pushy about the way he said it. And she appreciated that. For a split second, she struggled over which name to give him. She'd been a Rose once. Another time, she was Wendy. Penelope. Brittany. It was while she was scrounging for another name that her mouth opened and "Sarah" came out.
As he repeated the name back to her and said something else, she realized how natural it had felt to call herself Sarah. No other name that she'd ever used in her entire life had felt quite so good. The name Sarah felt…right. It felt like home in a way that no other name ever had. And she'd had some names for months before. In at least one case, for more than a year. She'd only been Sarah for less than 3 weeks.
Was it because she hadn't done anything officially for the CIA in over a week? Or was it something else? Someone else? Maybe it was all of the above? Or maybe…maybe she was seeking something to cling to. She always had to leave everything behind. Friends. Family. Identities. Apartments. Hotels. Souvenirs. Maybe, she reasoned, it was that she was tired of always leaving things behind. Maybe she wanted to keep something with her for once. Maybe she didn't want to leave Sarah behind…
"Sarah?"
She shook her head. "Sorry. I've, uh…been out in the sun too long, maybe."
Phil laughed. "Oh. I thought that it was just that you didn't want to hurt my feelings by saying no."
"What?"
He paused. "You really didn't hear a word I said, did you?"
"I'm afraid not. A lot on my mind."
"Can I help you with any of it?"She suddenly felt a little less comfortable with the situation as it was. And it wasn't that she wasn't in the mood for company, or anything like that. It was just that she'd already met a cute American who was on vacation in Nice, just like this cute American was. Except…that cute American was more than just a cute American. And the longer she talked to this one, the more she wanted to go back to shore now instead of waiting to ride a wave in.
"No. But thank you," she said.
"So…" Phil cleared his throat, fixing the St. Christopher he wore around his neck. "What I said was, uh…I just got here yesterday. Don't know the town too well. Think we could ride in together and I could take you to lunch somewhere?"
Sarah didn't even have to think about it. She shook her head and pressed her lips together. "I'm actually seeing someone."
His eyes looked genuinely disappointed as he rocked his head back with a large grin. "Aw mannn. Of course. Guy back home?" In spite of Sarah saying she was seeing someone, he leaned in a little closer and she subtly paddled her feet to get her board a few inches further away from him.
"No, uh…Here. Actually."
"Women and French men." He raised his hands up beside his face and shook his head, still grinning. "I can't compete."
Sarah smiled politely. He had no idea that the man he couldn't compete with wasn't a Frenchman at all. Chuck was an American, just like him. Maybe his chest wasn't all ripped and sculpted, or shaved and gleaming like Phil's. And he didn't have that little dimple in his chin that Phil had. But she'd felt Chuck's strength firsthand numerous times now, and she'd seen his passion. He had better hair and a more pleasing face. Certainly a better smile. In fact, she decided it was unfair to Chuck to be sizing him up against this guy.
And maybe it was unfair to Phil, too. He was probably a nice guy. And she imagined she might have a good time with him.
But Chuck…
She almost smiled to herself just thinking about the self-proclaimed nerd and how he'd been so patient teaching her how to play the best-selling video game he'd created, and how often and hard he made her laugh without even trying.
"I'm actually going to go in," she said, gesturing with her thumb towards the shore, suppressing the smile thoughts of Chuck Bartowski had brought to the forefront.
"Oh. Hey, how about I escort you? Keep you safe from jellyfish?" His grin was a little less charming now that she was growing weary of the encounter.
"That's okay. You just got out here."
"Aw, please. I'm never going to see you again."
Probably not, she thought. And it was for the best. She was certain he'd be out of her mind the moment she set foot on shore again. "It was nice talking to you," she said, ignoring his request. She didn't want to be mean, but if he kept pursuing, she'd have no choice.
Luckily he took that for the dismissal that it was and stayed bobbing in the water, straddling his longboard as she slid onto her belly and paddled back towards the shore. It was easy for her to ride the smaller waves in, finally standing up on dry land, lifting her board under her arm, and heading back up to the rental shack to turn it in.
It was a few minutes later that she got back to her hotel, her wetsuit unzipped to her lower belly, the torso and sleeves hanging at her waist, and her green bikini top on full display.
As she walked past the pool area, she spotted the familiar head of dark, curly hair as he stood up from one of the lounge chairs and gathered the white pool towel he'd been lying on. Chewing on her lip, she walked past the cabana and rounded the pool.
Chuck turned towards her when she was a mere five feet away and his eyebrows shot up, his face lighting up immediately. The grin on his face was such a beautiful sight after her uneventful morning out in the water.
"Sarah! Hey!"
"Hi," she said. "Saw you as I was walking past—What are you staring at?" Sarah raised an eyebrow. His eyes had quickly dropped to take in her bikini, ending at her belly button and sweeping back up to her face.
"Huh—what? What—Oh! No! Sorry! Sorry. You just look…you look so…There's really nothing special going on here—I mean, maybe it's just the combination of the green bikini top with the super tight black wetsuit on the bottom. Or the way it's just kind of unzipped and like…" He mimicked going limp and then stood up straight again, making a sheepish face. "You know what? You look super hot. There. I mean, obviously you look super hot. Otherwise I maybe would've been able to get a sentence out."
Sarah just shook her head and giggled. "Headed upstairs?"
"Yes, actually. I was going to order lunch and have it sent up. Like a true champion of laziness."
"Mmm that sounds really nice."
"Lunch or laziness?"
She giggled. "Both."
His phone buzzed and he held up a finger, digging in the pocket of his maroon trunks. He finally pulled it out. "Ah. Sister. Just a sec." He brought it up to his ear as she smiled patiently. "Hey, El. Sup. Mhm. Oh. No that's totally—No, please. Don't worry about it. Mi shower es su shower. No prob. Kay, talk to you soon." He hung up and sighed dramatically. "Apparently hotel staff let's any riffraff in these days. Maid let my sister into my room so that she could use my shower since Devon is taking an overly long one and they've got to be somewhere soon. The guy is…well, he's awesome. But that goes hand in hand with being high maintenance."
Sarah laughed and shook her head.
"I was going to invite you to my room for lunch and laziness but that's out of the question now." He shrugged.
She didn't even have to think about it. "We'll move it to my place. Come on."
"You sure?" She gave him a flat look over her shoulder and he chuckled. "Guess you're sure."
Sarah grinned a bit to herself. "You'll just have to let me change out of this first."
There was a slight pause as he sped up to walk next to her. "You could stay in that. You know, if you wanted to."
She laughed again, shaking her head. Just as she'd assumed, the American surfer was long gone from her radar. And yet, the small amount of time she'd spent talking to him was what she might experience more often as someone who wasn't tied down to the CIA. Small moments with other human beings who weren't spies. Genuine moments, even if she didn't want to act on them. Without the CIA on her back, whether or not she accepted invitations like Phil's was completely up to her.
And she found she liked that.
She also liked the way Chuck reached down to delicately play with her fingers as they walked side by side, before he took her hand in his as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
—-
"I think salad is totally underrated in general."
Sarah craned her neck a little to look up at Chuck as he sat at the table by the window while she lay on the end of her bed, her legs hanging over, feet flat on the ground. "That was random."
"Well, I mean, I got the salad. So not entirely random."
"But we finished eating like a half hour ago or more.""It was such a good salad that I'm still thinking about it."
"Do you think about food often, Chuck?"
"What are you, my shrink?"
That made her laugh, a sudden, barking laughter. "You are such a goof."
"Yeeah, well…you like it."
Sarah propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him for a second as he looked back. "Yeah. I do."
"Just for clarification," he said in that way of his, extending his hand out and narrowing his eyes, "you like all goofs, or just me?"
She chuckled and shook her head. "Come here."
Chuck pushed himself up from his chair and rushed at a teasingly fast pace to sit beside her at the end of the bed. She continued laughing as the mattress bounced under his added weight, and even when the laughter drifted off, the wide smile on her face stayed.
The merely stared at one another for a few minutes before Sarah sat up, not pausing for even a second before putting her hand on his neck and going in for a kiss. As his arms wound around her torso to pull her closer, she was glad she'd chosen to shower while Chuck ordered lunch for them. Now she was fresh and clean, her hair wasn't caked in sand and saltwater, and she felt no reservations about swinging her leg over to the other side of his hip and kissing him a lot harder, holding his head by the tight grip she had on his curls.
He groaned softly, his fingers twisting in the material of the light cotton sundress she'd thrown on after her shower.
Sarah dropped her hands to the hem of his t-shirt, starting to lift it up his torso.
Chuck pulled away from the kiss and lifted his arms up over his head, causing her to giggle at how much he looked like a little boy in that moment. She got rid of the shirt and kissed him again, dragging her hands up and down his muscled back.
And as she felt his fingers on her thighs, tucking under the cotton skirt of the dress, teasing the hem, she sighed and rocked into his lap. He groaned and rounded his hands to her backside, tightening his fingers in an invigorating squeeze. Neither of them made a move to take it to the next step, instead just enjoying the moment they were in.
His hands dragged so passionately up to the small of her back, and he fisted the cotton material of her dress, twisting. She rocked into him again, teasing his lips with her tongue until he opened his mouth and whimpered, letting her explore.
Sarah immersed herself in him, letting all of her cares and worries fall away from her mind. And she eased her weight forward. Chuck took it easily, holding her, even cradling her against him.
They made out for what felt like not a lot of time, but was close to half an hour, their hands wandering, lips dragging over cheeks, jaws, necks. For a moment, Sarah worried that she'd have a hicky when Chuck sucked particularly hard on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. But then he'd moved on to much much better things, like sliding his fingers in the waistband of her panties and snapping them teasingly.
She pulled her lips back from his, gasping. "Hey, now…" she warned in a low voice, her arms around his neck and the fingers of one hand buried in his hair.
Chuck nudged her nose with his and then nipped at her lip, giving her a winning grin and bouncing his eyebrows. He snapped her waistband again and she bit her cheek to keep from giggling, shaking her head in silent reprimand.
Sarah used her grip on his hair and tug him back into a heated kiss, rolling her hips and causing him to groan. She could feel the bump under his swim trunks against her crotch and she purposefully pushed herself into it, grinding back and forth a few times.
They both whimpered and Sarah pulled away from the kiss, biting her lip, their foreheads still pressed together. She slid her free hand down his bare chest, pressing against his abdomen with her fingers as she dragged them all the way down to the ties of his trunks. She latched onto the tie and pulled it slowly, painstakingly, until it fell undone. And then she gave one hard yank to pull the velcro fly open.
He chuckled, his eyes wide, his lips turned up in amusement, and the look made her giggle.
They continued to make out, their touch heated and playful at the same time, and Sarah grabbed the skirt of her dress, moving it out of the way as she scooted further into his lap so that she was sitting directly on his cock, her underwear and his boxers the only impediment from full frontal contact.
As they devoured one another, she started rocking, sliding her crotch over his length, feeling how hard he was between her legs. Neither of them seemed to want to do anything about the material keeping them from joining properly, as focused as they were on kissing and touching.
Chuck dragged his lips down her neck, licking along her collarbone. She thrusted a little harder and he groaned, his breath hot against her skin. And she gasped as he nipped at her shoulder.
She continued to ride him slowly, arching to make sure they both felt everything.
As she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every last muscle, massaging him, still gyrating into his lap, she felt his breathing against her neck become more and more erratic.
She could also feel the buzz between her legs increase with each thrust. She tightened her body as she rode him, burying her face in his neck and going faster, harder. He whimpered and put a hand over her breast, squeezing her over her dress and bra. But it wasn't until he turned his face and sucked her earlobe between his lips, flicking it with his tongue, that she came.
"Hnng!" Sarah moaned into his hair.
She rocked a few more times, her movements jerky and desperate, before she went limp against him and let him hold all of her weight. He tucked his face into her hair and chuckled softly. She merely shut her eyes and squeezed him tight, letting out a long breath.
Sarah still felt his length pressed against her, and it was very hard, very pronounced, and calling for her attention again. So she slid her hand down between them and ground the heel of her palm up his shaft over his boxers.
"Mmmm, Sarah," he whimpered. And as she started to gyrate against him again, he suddenly grabbed her by her hips and held her still. "Wait, wait," he gasped. She pulled back a little, curious, and maybe a little concerned.
"Sorry," he breathed. "I just…this is all I have to wear right now and um…I don't want to get…anything…on them." He cleared his throat and she nearly laughed.
It made sense. So she shouldn't laugh at him. Especially since he diverted his eyes in an adorably shy sort of way. Instead, she gently kissed him at the corner of his lips, and carefully climbed out of his lap to stand in front of him. And then she lifted her dress up her body and over her head, tossing it off the edge of the mattress, out of the way, before moving to stand before him again.
His brown eyes took her in, heat in his gaze, that same awe and wonderment she saw there every time, and it sent a thrill through her. It was something no other man had made her feel when they looked at her. Not that the others weren't sincere about admiring her body. She knew she was fit. She worked hard for it, and not just to look good, but because her lifestyle meant she needed to be able to run, climb, fight…she needed endurance and strength to do what she did for a living.
But there was always a hunger there, and nothing else. Whereas Chuck's hungry gaze had so much in it. Not just admiration, but awe as well. Like she was giving him a gift standing in front of him like this…his wide eyes asking "For me? Really?"
It made her feel safe. It made her trust him with her body. She knew he would never take this for granted. And it wasn't that she needed and wanted to be cherished or worshipped or anything like that. Maybe it was asking too much to want to be treated with respect, considering the sort of life she led. Whether she deserved it or not, Sarah knew inherently that Chuck would always do it anyways.
He finally snapped to his senses and shook his head, tucking his fingers into the waistband of both his swim trunks and his boxers and standing up to push them down his legs, stepping out of them and kicking them off to the side so that he stood before her completely naked.
When he moved to divest her of her underthings, she took his hands in hers and lowered them to his sides, stepping close and starting to kiss his neck, dotting her lips up to his ear where she sucked on the lobe a little. And then she grazed his ear with her lips and whispered a soft, "Sit down."
She felt him smirk against her cheek and he complied, sitting on the edge of the mattress and smiling up at her. Sarah knew he had no idea what she was about to do to him, and it filled her with a sense of mischief.
Carrying that sense of mischief with her, she stepped up close to him, tucking herself between his legs so that he could lean in and kiss her hard abs. She let him lick her, tease her belly button, nip at one of her ribs mischievously…
And then she lowered herself to her knees, still between his legs and she turned her face to press her lips to his inner thigh. She sucked and gently bit him, moving up his thigh, further and further. She switched to his other thigh, enjoying the sound of him expelling his breath tightly.
"Sarah…" He sounded for a moment like he was going to tell her she didn't have to, but she wanted to so badly, so she did away with the rest of the foreplay she'd planned and gently took his shaft in her fingers, guiding the tip of him into her mouth.
His protestation became a soft and strangled cry, his body jolting. And it seemed he didn't have much he could say after that, for Sarah began stroking her fingers up and down his length as she used her tongue and lips to stimulate his tip, sucking gently.
Chuck's knuckles were white as he clung to the edge of the mattress, looking down at her with a look of absolute wonderment on his handsome face. And the soft moans of pleasure were half driving her mad.
She pulled her lips away and curled her fist around his hardness, jerking up and down quickly as he let his head fall back with a groan of her name. Wanting more, she leaned in and licked up the underside of his cock a few times, spending extra effort at the tip each time, and then she shifted and took him all the way in her mouth, pushing it deeper and deeper, before she began to bob her head up and down.
"God, that's so good," he panted. And he let go of the bed, tenderly swiping her hair away from her face without grabbing her head and pulling her or guiding her. He let her do whatever she wanted, he let her dictate the pace and depth. It bespoke of a great amount of trust. And that more than anything was what made her double down on her efforts.
"Ah!" he yelped, and it turned into a chuckle of awe and pleasure. "Holy…God! Sarah!"
She sank her lips lower and lower, and then swallowed, fighting back the gag reflex as he brushed the soft skin of her throat. He groaned loudly and let out a whimpered, "oh my god".
And then she pulled up so that just his tip was in her mouth and she sucked him a few times.
She rounded his length with her fingers and started pumping him again. She continued for awhile, varying between licking and sucking, using her fingers to stimulate the base of his cock and sometimes his balls, until she felt how thick and hard he was, the muscles in his abdomen twitching.
"So close," he panted, and as she peeked up at him, she saw how tense he was, his cheeks tinged with pink.
Sarah pulled her lips away and pumped him in her hand some more, quick and hard. He gasped in encouragement, repeating her name over and over, and as she covered him with her mouth again, sliding her lips down and giving him one last hard suck, he came.
Chuck cried out, gently gyrating his hips against her to empty himself, and then he fell back against the mattress and breathed hard, his chest heaving as he covered his face with his hands.
She spent a few more minutes down there, licking him, making sure she got every last drop, and then she eased him out of her mouth and crawled onto the bed, sidling up to him and propping herself up to look down at him, setting her hand that wasn't holding her head up on his chest and playing with the hair there. "Okay?" she asked quietly.
"Hnnnng," was all he was capable of, and then the dreamy look on his face collapsed into a lusty chuckle, his grin wide as he turned his face into her arm and nuzzled her with his nose.
"I'll take that as a yes," she said, amusement crackling in her voice.
—-
She changed into nice tan shorts and a white blouse while Chuck went up to his suite to shower. It was another hour and a half before Sarah wandered down to the lobby to meet him. And she slowed down to a halt as she spotted him perusing a stand with brochures next to the concierge desk.
He was in jeans and a short sleeve button up, his hair not as messy as usual, meaning he'd taken care to fix it. And she stopped herself there. Because why was she already having thoughts about him like she'd known him for years? She didn't know what he did and didn't do with his hair. She just knew it was soft. And that it was one of the things that made him so attractive.
As she closed the distance, he turned his head a little and caught sight of her, smiling in greeting for just a split second before he thrust one of the brochures at her. "Look at this! Nightlife!"
Eyes wide, she took the brochure and turned it in her hands, peering down at it. "Huh. Cool. And…?"
"And we should check some of that out for tonight."
Sarah gave him a long teasing look. And he immediately backtracked, apparently having missed the teasing part.
"I basically just made your plans for you for tonight, didn't I? Yeeeah. Sorry. If you have other stuff going on, we can do some of this another night. When you're free."
She let out a soft huff of amusement and shook her head. "Chuck, it's okay. I don't have plans tonight. I'm on vacation alone, remember? More often than not, I'm going to be pretty much completely free all the time."
"Oh." That slow smile was just so deadly. And she should know…she was also deadly. But in a completely different way, it had to be said. "So…tonight?"
"Sure," she said with a shrug. "But what are we gonna do? There's a Riviera nightclub crawl. Just pop in and out of each one."
"Eh…I stopped crawling once I learned how to walk." Sarah gave him a different long look and he cracked a smile, which turned a little sheepish. "Sorry," he added. "It sounded funny in my head."
She snorted and shook her head, sweeping her gaze down the brochure. "Dinner and dancing in a few of these. Or we could do dinner somewhere. Then dessert at another place…"
"And find someplace more quiet and intimate to dance."
"What, like a jazz club?"
He nodded. There was a particular glint in his eye that made her smile a little. "Are you thinking about our first date, Chuck?"
"How did you know?" he drawled, shifting his weight and stuffing his hands in his pockets, smiling slowly.
Sarah shrugged and bit her lip. That had been intoxicating, dancing with him in such a small and intimate setting, the moonlight on them.
"It's been awhile since we danced. Like…a couple of days."
That made her laugh as she slid the brochure into her purse for later and turned towards the lobby doors, forcing him to turn with her as she clung to his arm. "Ohh yeah, wow. A couple of days."
He'd obviously been joking, but it reminded her that they hadn't actually known each other for a full week yet. She'd met him a mere couple of days ago. And he was already tucked deep, deep under her skin. She was more comfortable with him than she'd ever been with anyone. It was so dangerous, but not at the same time. Because she knew he'd never do anything to hurt her—the thing that worried her was what she was capable of doing to him.
She saw the way he looked at her as he took her hand, leading her across the road and into the streets of Nice to begin exploring. He was just as taken with her as she was with him. And why shouldn't he be considering the instantaneous, electrifying connection they had. He thought she was just a government worker, a translator, on vacation from her work and life. He had no knowledge of just how involved with the government she was. That she was practically a ghost, existing only in the form of names that weren't real. She could disappear better than anyone else in the world.
Chuck Bartowski had no idea that the woman he'd taken up with was the most dangerous woman on the planet. She lowered her head at that thought, wondering what he would say if he knew the truth.
He was the most complete person she'd ever met. Kind, thoughtful, understanding, fun, smart, unassuming, attractive, sexy…
But he wouldn't look kindly upon a murderess. She knew he wouldn't. Nobody would.
"Hey…"
She perked up and immediately turned to look at him, forcing a smile on her face.
His brow was furrowed in concern. "You okay? You looked pretty upset there for a second."
They stopped walking and he pulled her to the side under a shop's awning, nestling them in a small little brick nook carved into the building.
The way he was unconsciously rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, comforting and reassuring, nearly broke her. Instead of letting it, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm actually okay. I just let a dark thought get in my head, I guess."
"Dark thought? That sounds pretty intense. No dark thoughts on vacation, Sarah Walker." He smiled, nudging her hip with their interwoven hands.
She giggled. "No, no. Nothing intense. Just, uh…work stuff again."
Chuck raised his eyebrows and then nodded. "Well, you're on vacation. And work can't get you here."
God, how wrong he was about that.
But she smiled at him anyways. "You're right. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. And, you know, if you need to chat about it, you've got me. If you need to. I won't force you to, obviously." He held up his free hand and then let it fall back to his side.
Taking a moment to look at him, she finally pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss. "You're so sweet."
He just smiled silently, his eyes bright and pleased.
"Shall we adventure?" she asked, fighting back the gloom.
"Adventure awaits!" he bellowed, causing passersby to give him looks, some in shock and others in amusement. "Oops." He folded into himself and caused her to laugh as she tugged him back down the street.
They found crepes that didn't have a long line out the shop door and indulged, and then they stumbled into a marketplace with too many vendors for them to even handle in one day. However, they did their best, making a weaving pattern through the vendors per Sarah's instruction.
Chuck bought her a fresh red apple and she bought him a watermelon, making him laugh as she walked up to him with it shoved under her arm. She'd grown to regret the decision the longer they stayed in the marketplace, however. Because the damn thing got heavier and heavier, and it suddenly wasn't even worth the joke. Even though Chuck was the one carrying it, she could see the way he'd started switching back and forth after almost two hours of exploration.
The couple had no way of eating the watermelon unless they bought themselves a massive knife. And then what would they do with that once they finished with it? Walk around with a knife? That would go down really well with the local authorities.
She didn't dwell too much on the fact that she had two knives tucked into the lining of her purse, as well as a small pistol.
After awhile, they found themselves at a vendor that was selling freshly baked baguettes and rolls. Chuck pulled her to a stop and handed her the watermelon, before buying them two baguettes that were probably three feet tall each. After hitting a few more vendors, he ended up with a large sack with bread, cheeses, some fruit, and two bottles of red wine.
It was after they'd stepped away with their haul that Sarah decided they needed to do something about the watermelon.
She knew hunger. She'd been on missions in which she hadn't been able to eat for days because she was keeping an eye on a mark. She also hadn't been able to go to the bathroom which…was a different story altogether.
Wasted food was a huge no-no.
But then she spotted a homeless man sitting on the steps behind the vendors. He had a small cup of coffee that someone had probably bought for him. She supposed being homeless in Nice wasn't quite as bad as being homeless in a place with frigid winters. But homeless was homeless.
Pursing her lips, she put a hand on Chuck's arm, stopping him. "Can you give me a minute before we head back? Just wanna do something real quick."
He blinked then raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, of course!"
Sarah smiled and then went back to the bread vendor, ordering one of their sandwiches that they sold. It had turkey and veggies, was smothered in balsamic and oil, and it was fresh and hot. In fact, it had her stomach she didn't take a bite out of like she wanted to. Instead, she stepped around Chuck, hoisted the watermelon under her arm a little more comfortably, and walked up to the man on the step. He eyed her with a smidgeon of confusion for a second, but when she offered him the sandwich, telling him in French to enjoy a nice lunch on her, the confusion was gone. In its place was a tentative smile as he reached up to take it. When she set the watermelon down in front of him, he laughed at it, then took a knife out of his boot, stabbing it into the watermelon. He nodded his thanks with a gruff "merci" and she left him with his meal, heading back to Chuck's side.
He was looking at her funny, she realized as she approached. "…What?"
He shrugged and answered with a strangely quiet, "Nothin'."
And as they walked back, Chuck shifted the bag so that he could hold it with one arm, purposefully taking her hand and not letting go of it until they got back to his suite.
"For the record, this mess isn't really me," he was quick to assure her as they walked into the sitting room. "What I mean is…I'm not a messy kind of person. I'm usually super neat. I just had a particularly…um…lazy day."
Honestly, while there were papers strewn about the desk by the window, shoes on the floor by the couch, and video game controllers on the coffee table, nothing else looked all that messy. So she shot him a flat look. "If this is messy, I can handle messy."
He chuckled and set down the bag of food on the table, doing his best to straighten out the papers. "Fair enough. All of these stupid forms I have to fill out while I'm on vacation." He held them up for her to see and sighed, giving her a tired look. "The bureaucracy I have to go through to have my own company…makes me crazy sometimes."
Sarah just smiled, digging into the bag and grabbing their food.
They ate in companionable silence, jokingly fighting over a particularly luscious strawberry. Chuck eventually won and got to eat the strawberry, but Sarah also considered herself a winner in the battle, as she ended up sitting in his lap and tasting it anyways as their wrestling turned into a heated make out session.
Eventually she got back to her room and splayed herself out on her bed, staring at the ceiling and dozing. A few hours went by and her phone alarm buzzed at her. So she pulled herself up from her bed and took another shower.
Chuck's eagerness for the Nice nightlife made her dig deep into her arsenal of formal wear. It was a black dress, strapless, that hugged her figure all the way down to a few inches above her knees. And her black pumps with the massive heels. But she kept her hair down, flowing past her shoulders in waves.
As she put on her last earring, she heard her phone ringing in the bedroom. Figuring it was Chuck telling her he was heading up, she rushed to grab it, her stomach doing a flip as she saw Graham's number instead of Chuck's.
"Shit," she breathed, having actually forgotten completely about him, and about the huge decision she still had to make. She licked her lips and swiped to answer, holding it to her ear. "Walker. Clear."
"Agent." She held back a sigh and slumped down to sit on the edge of her bed. "How is your extended vacation going? Doing anything fun?"
"Why has it taken you this long to get in contact with me?" she asked, bypassing his snarkiness. He did this all the time with her, but she really didn't have the time for it right now.
"I'm the director of the CIA, Sarah." It felt weird hearing him call her that. Even though he usually tended to call her by whatever the last name she used on a mission happened to be. "I have a lot going on."
"I'm sure you do. But I've been wandering around Nice wondering what the hell is going on. And then you sent that douche bag Edison to tell me about the rendezvous. Can you just tell me my orders and we can bypass all of this nonsense?"
"It's not that easy, Sarah."
"Why?"
"Because we aren't entirely sure what to do with you yet."
She felt a chill go down her spine. "Sir…What does that mean?"
"My personal feelings on your performance lately make me question your commitment to this job. To this lifestyle. Sometimes I wonder if your heart is still in it."
Sarah nearly scoffed at that. She could hear a tinge of mockery in his voice. He was well aware of the way he'd plucked her out of her life—which, granted, hadn't been a great one—and made her into a killing machine. When she was still almost a kid.
When the hell was her heart in anything over the last ten years? He'd done his best to make sure her heart was buried under reams and reams of duty and death. The bodies she'd left in her wake…
And yet, he was probably somewhat serious when he said her heart wasn't in it. He knew enough about her, he'd known her better than anyone else ever had…and he could probably tell how much the last few assassinations had affected her. They'd all left such a bitter taste in her mouth. More than before, certainly. She thought she'd improved as far as hiding it behind a mask of professionalism, but maybe Graham saw through that.
She'd questioned him, talked back to him, a few times. Something she'd never done before.
She was changing. And he wanted her to stay the way she was. A machine. IQ.
"What makes you say that?" she asked.
"A lot of things. Which means you have a decision you need to make. Either you're in. Or you're out. If you're in, you're going deep in. I'm going to bury you in this stuff until the only thing you see is what's at the end of your rifle's muzzle. I know you." He paused. "You don't know anything but what I've given you. This existence. You need to find that again. You'll get more details on the mission Monday when you rendezvous with my guy."
Another long pause. "And if you're out, Walker…Well…Then you're out for good. There's no getting back in. You have to know, I'm not saying this to be cruel. You're my best agent. Nobody else in the world can do what you do. I value you for that." He sighed. "There's no possible way a person like you can make a life outside of this. Outside of what you do for us every day. You're in too deep, Sarah. Just like I am. Just like so many of us are."
It was so easy for him to say that. He had a family. He was the director of the CIA. He had a face that was in public. He was the puppet master who got all of the credit for their successes. (Granted, he also got credit for their failures. And he did that part of the job honorably.) He regularly dined with the president in the White House, shook hands with Congressmen and women, knew their spouses and their children, their dogs' names.
Langston Graham had a regular life when he walked away from Langley at the end of the night.
She didn't. So many of the agents didn't. They were ghosts like she was. Apparitions. But she also knew no one was quite as disconnected from the real world.
None of this made what he'd just said to her any less right.
Too deep.
Sarah clamped her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering.
"You probably already know where I stand," she said.
"I'm at about a 98%," he answered, and she could almost see his nonchalant shrug.
She heard Chuck's shuffling feet outside of the door and decided to cut this call off before Graham heard the knock. "Monday, then," she said.
And she hung up.
The knock sounded just as she put her phone down.
Sarah took a moment to gather herself, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose to keep from crying.
The ache in her chest she could handle. But she didn't want to cry in front of Chuck. He would be concerned, and she'd just have to make up another lie.
She was tired of making up lies to tell him. She was so tired of it.
The implications of the phone call with Graham sat like an anvil in her stomach for the rest of the night, even as she enjoyed the food and the dancing. And by the end of the night, as much as she wanted to bury herself in Chuck's arms, feel something else—something infinitely more pleasurable than the heaviness she'd been feeling all night—she opted to go to sleep alone, citing tiredness from the day.
He hadn't been put out or confused. There were no tinges of disappointment in his warm gaze.
Instead, Chuck cupped her face, kissed her, said goodnight, and left with a smile on his face.
In spite of everything churning inside of her, Sarah found herself smiling too as she shut the door behind him.
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