The Trapped Assassin

By SarahsSupplyCloset

Author's Note: The story progresses! Thanks to everyone sticking around. Much more to come after this. Much much more.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I'm not making any money from this.

She was grinning like a freaking idiot by the time she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the extra towel folded on the rack. She dried off quickly then rubbed her hair until it was as dry as possible, before she tied the towel back around her body again. She didn't have anything to wear, she'd realized belatedly. That was a problem.

But she left the bathroom anyways, still running her fingers through her hair with one hand and holding the knot in the towel with the other.

As she padded out into the main room, she found him standing out on the balcony, the door wide open, letting the cool sea breeze in.

She halted at the door and leaned against it, careful not to be too out in the open, considering she was in nothing but a towel. She watched Chuck quietly, taking him in, the breeze whipping at his curls. She felt so at peace. Like everything in the world was exactly the way it should be, where it should be. Like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

And then Chuck turned and looked at her. He immediately cast his eyes down at her standing there in a towel, and then he stood up and rushed towards her, gently guiding her back into the room and twisting the shutters closed. She resisted the urge to laugh at him for it. It was just so cute.

But there was something else in his blush. He seemed tentative. Nervous. Embarrassed, even. "I, um…sorry. There were…I mean, people were out there and I didn't want you to…"

Chuck cleared his throat and laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm actually going to hop in the—in the shower. Oh. You need…something to wear, huh? Yeah. I'll get that first. Then I'll take my—Follow me." He led her into the bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt out of the drawer, handing it to her. Then he went into another drawer and gave her a pair of boxers, as well. "You might have to roll them a little. But um…my hips are super narrow for a dude so maybe you'll be okay." He blanched. "Not that there's—Obviously you have really nice hips, they're not particularly wide. I didn't mean that. I've just got freakishly narrow…Jesus. I'm gonna take a shower."

She watched him back towards the shower. "Thanks for the clothes."

"Yeah. Um…" He ran his hands down his shirt. "Please don't go yet? I ordered us dinner."

Sarah tilted her head and gave him a bit of a confused look. "I'll be here."

He disappeared into the shower and she dropped her towel, putting the clothes he'd let her borrow on, wondering what in the hell was up with him all of a sudden.

The food arrived halfway through his shower and she felt bad about it, but she found Chuck's wallet in the nightstand next to his bed and tipped the waiter with it.

Chuck finally walked into the room as she was pouring the five year old bottle of red wine he'd ordered them with their dinner. His wine choice really cemented the fact that he had more money than the average person. How much, she still didn't know. And it wasn't her business to know anyway, whether she was curious or not.

He was quiet as he stood off to the side, watching her pour. And as she stood with both glasses in her hand, ready to give him one, she saw the strained look on his face. Something was off with him. And she needed to get to the bottom of it for her own peace of mind, if nothing else.

But she didn't have to say anything. Instead she just gave him a look—the one that said 'Okay, cut it out and just tell me what's wrong'. He read it well. Because he let out a long sigh and winced.

"Listen, Sarah. I'm sorry if I was…" Chuck cleared his throat and gestured towards the door he'd had her pinned against a little over a half hour earlier. She turned to glance at the door and just barely withheld the urge to grin wickedly. It didn't help that he had yet to put on a shirt. His skin was so tan and glistening from the steam in the bathroom. "It just…" He cleared his throat again. "God, there's just something about you, Sarah. It makes me feel things—physically—that I swear to God I've never felt before. I mean, you make me do things I've never…" His features became pinched as he searched for the right words, and she let him, even as she thought she knew what he was trying to say. "Gah, did I overdo it? You can tell me if I did."

Sarah was torn.

Torn between wanting to laugh at him and wanting to kiss him.

"Did I…" She bit her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "…do anything to make you think I wasn't completely into it? Enjoying it? Because if I did, I didn't mean to. I really didn't mean to."

Chuck blinked.

"Trust me, Chuck. You have nothing to apologize to me for." And just for good measure, the assassin flashed the video game mogul a very satisfied, cheeky grin. He blushed, even as he met her grin with one of his own.

"Oh. Uh. Good." Chuck laughed at himself and shook his head, somehow managing to endear himself to her even more. "Before I embarrass us both further, I think we should sit down and eat. But first, let me down a couple glasses of wine."

She laughed and handed him his glass.

—

"Interesting concept," Sarah said, scrolling through the Wikipedia article about Y: The Last Man. "But I don't know if I'd be able to read an entire series on it. Or…since it's a comic book, I guess…look at pictures more than read."

"Excuse me," Chuck said from the door as he pushed the cart with the remainder of their feast out into the hallway. "But it's still reading. There are words."

"Yeah, but…come on…it's mostly pictures. I'm not saying that's a good or bad thing!" she rushed on, holding up her free hand placatingly. "Just…it's mostly pictures."

"Okay, let's push that whole thing to the side for a second," Chuck said, shutting the door and walking back to the couch where Sarah was curled up, looking at her phone. "Why don't you think you can read a whole series on it?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, looking up at him as he plopped onto the couch a few feet away. "It seems like the whole thing is about a planet full of women who either want to kill him or shag him. It's like…a teenage boy's wildest fantasy come true."

Chuck's eyes narrowed. "That's a very simplistic take on the entire concept. But I am not going to judge you since all you have is what I assume is a Wikipedia article pulled up on your phone. You aren't going to get the full picture unless you read it."

"But, like, why does every man die except Yorick and his monkey. That makes no sense."

"The Y chromosome."

"But they have the Y chromosome, too."

"They never really say for sure what it is."

"Probably because they don't know themselves. That's too hard, coming up with a reason, so they can go around saying, 'Oh it's a mystery we like our readers to figure out for themselves.' Mmhmmm." She giggled at him as he opened his mouth to say something else, and then reached over to pat his shoulder. "I'm being an asshole now and tearing down your favorite comic book. I'm sorry. It does sound really cool. I just get nervous about dystopian stuff."

"Oh, yeah?" He scooted a little closer and leaned his arm on the back of the couch.

"It's too real. The idea of some plague making everybody into a zombie, or killing everybody…it's just…blegh. Too real."

"It is kind of scary. But if you remember it's fictional, you're okay."

"Weather disaster movies are the worst. Like, floods and earthquakes…"

"Okay, I live in California. So the whole earthquake thing is a big no with me. I don't do the earthquake thing."

She laughed, and then she looked back down at her phone, going through the summary of the plot. "Wait, she dies?!"

"What?! What are you doing?! Are you reading the plot summary?!" He reached out to try to take her phone but she pulled out of reach.

"That's so fucked up! They build this great strong character and just before they get together she—"

"What is wrong with you?!" he cried out, even as he laughed, trying to grab her phone still. She laughed, squealing as he climbed on her. He finally was able to pry the phone from her fingers, turning it off and setting it on the coffee table where she couldn't reach it. "You aren't supposed to read the whole plot on Wikipedia before you read the novels! Come on, Sarah!"

"I told you I'm probably not gonna read it anyway."

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Fine. You're less of a nerd than I thought."

"I told you." She pursed her lips and shifted her legs so that they were framing his hips, lifting them to wrap them around his body and giving him a quick tug so that more of his weight was pressing into her. "That make you like me a little less?"

He met her pout with a furrowed brow that very clearly said "What are you smoking?" and then he shook his head. "Sarah." He sighed, clearly unable to find words, and then he shook his head again. "Let's just leave it at 'no' because I don't even know where to begin with a different answer."

Sarah giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can still kick your ass at video games if you want me to."

"I'm not even going to lie, I would love that."

"Oh, yeah?" She giggled again as he swept in to peck her on the lips. "Because you seemed a little miffed when I killed you five times in a row during Wallace-16 the other day."

He kissed her again. "Unfairly."

"How was it unfair?" she asked, nibbling on his chin, feeling the way he shivered above her.

"Right when I came around the corner, you reached over and sexually assaulted me."

Sarah burst into laughter, her head falling back against the couch. "I sexually assaulted you? Oh my God!"

"You reached over and grabbed me. Not just…my leg or something. Like wrapped your fingers around my junk over my boxers and squeezed. So yeah, of course I died. I was grossly distracted."

She laughed evilly and craned her neck to kiss his jaw, leaned around to capture his earlobe between her teeth. "Grossly? Because I seem to remember you liking it."

"You're a cheater cheater pumpkin eater."

"I won, didn't I?"

His hand slid over her thigh and dragged under his T-shirt that she wore, his fingers cool against her warm skin. She hissed at the feel of it, enjoying it in spite of everything. "Cheaters never prosper."

"Mmmm I don't know about that. I feel like I did prosper. Greatly."

"Okay, fine. Next time we play video games, we'll see who wins."

His hand pushed up even further, teasing her ribs with gentle strokes of his fingers, until his knuckles brushed the underside of her breast.

Sarah bit her bottom lip and sighed. And then she saw his eyes flash, and she met him halfway, kissing him slowly, enjoying his taste, the feel of him lying on top of her, his weight pressing her down and making her feel so safe and warm. She pulled back just enough to where their lips were barely brushing, noses nuzzling. "Even now…" She pecked his lips. "…I prosper."

He chuckled, his chest bouncing against hers.

All her life, she'd been careful to avoid addiction. Alcohol, smoking, drugs…she'd buried herself in the CIA. And before the CIA, it had been violin, languages, books, anything that kept her from being like her dad and his friends. She worked hard to make sure nothing had control over her. Because that was what addiction was, wasn't it? When you lost control.

For so long she had never needed anything or anyone.

And all of that had come crashing down when she met Chuck.

Because she needed him now. She needed him ten times over.

Of course it was physical. Really great sex was like a drug. She hadn't been careful. She'd gotten too much too fast, and now she might be a little hooked.

Or a lot hooked.

He just had this way of touching her. And he was so talented with his lips, as he tasted her neck. She was obsessed with his fascination with her neck. Like he was magnetically drawn to it whenever they were in an intimate situation like this.

She thought she could do it…back away from all of this, leave it behind. She thought she could drop the sensations he brought her, forget the sound of his whimper in her ear.

As addicted as she was, she could quit. She was sure she could.

So she dragged her hands down his back, pulled his shirt up, and dug her fingernails into his skin just above the waistline of his boxers. He let out a whimpering sigh and thrust into her.

Sarah's eyes rolled back and she grinned wildly, turning her head to catch his lips in a sensual kiss.

Maybe she was addicted because she suddenly felt visible.

That had to be it.

She wasn't acting here. Not with Chuck. She wasn't playing a role. She wasn't trying to blend into the crowd. She was just being…real. As real as she knew how to be, at least.

She was visible. To him. He saw her.

It was startling.

So startling that she strove to ignore it for now, instead burying herself in his touch, his kiss, the way she felt him hardening between her legs where he was pushed against her.

Chuck shifted, turning them both so that he was wedged between her and the couch back. And then he giggled into her kiss as she shoved her hand down to squeeze his backside boldly. Sarah threw her weight until he slid down to lie flat on his back with her on top of him.

And then he leaned up and cupped her head in one hand, his lips wreaking havoc on her senses. When his fingers twisted wantonly in her hair, she moaned and moved her hand, straddling him properly so that she could reach down the front of his boxers.

His hips jolted as she felt him under her palm, and she curled her fingers around him and released his cock from their confines, pushed the waistband down and out of the way.

He groaned and held onto her hips, letting his head fall back to the couch with a thump as she pushed herself against his hardness and gyrated a few times.

Her mind refused to quiet, and her body was crying out for the man underneath her, so she listened to her body and willed her mind to shut up.

Sarah lifted herself from his lap to take his length in one hand, stroking him so that his eyes went crossed, and reaching down with her free hand to move the boxers she wore out of the way.

She slowly eased herself down, sinking onto him, pressing her forehead to his temple and exhaling in a whimper. Her mouth reacted without first consulting her brain. "Hnng you feel so good," she gasped out. It still felt so odd to hear herself say things like that. But she went with it. As long as her brain kept quiet.

"Sarah…"

She sat heavily in his lap, wriggled a bit to get into a good position, and then she started to swing her hips back and forth, her strokes long and slow, arching her back. She held onto his shoulders for leverage as she rode him, clenching her jaw, watching him through half closed eyes.

Chuck's head had fallen to the arm of the couch, his eyes had shut, and he breathed rapidly through flared nostrils. He whimpered her name and let his jaw fall open in complete awe.

Nobody'd ever allowed themselves to enjoy what she did to them the way Chuck did. Like they were all just as guarded as she was, just as ready for her to stab them in the back as she was ready for them to. And here was Chuck, his eyes shut, just enjoying, letting her have her way with him, not worried at all about the fact that he'd met her maybe a week earlier, not worried that he knew nothing about her.

He was either stupid or he was the most wonderfully trusting person on the planet. Either way, he was definitely a bit naive. She couldn't fault him for it.

And God, she needed to shut her damn brain up. She was having sex, for goodness sake!

Sarah reach back to brace her hands on his knees, then tilted her torso away from his, jerking her hips back and forth instead of the graceful way she'd been riding him before.

Chuck's eyes snapped open and they fell down to where their bodies met, shrouded in the boxers she still wore.

She strove for more and more and more, reaching, reaching, reaching. She heard a distant buzz and thought maybe it was her approaching orgasm. Maybe she was almost there…

But then Chuck's hands grabbed at her hips and held her tightly to him so that she stopped moving. She sat up straight and grabbed his shoulder, meeting his gaze a bit hazily. "What? What is it?" she panted.

"Your phone is ringing."

"What?"

"Your phone."

She frowned, still trying to get a grasp on her senses, and then she glanced over her shoulder at where Chuck had set her phone. She recognized the nondescript picture she gave him for when he called: a row of snapdragons. He'd had some in a vase the first time she'd gone into his office when she was still a teenager. And she'd always remembered how strange it was to see a man like that with flowers in his office.

"You gonna answer?" he asked, breathless. She didn't say anything, blinking at the phone. "You can," he added. "S'okay. I don't mind."

"It's just my boss," she said, not realizing what she'd just told him. She had too many other things going on.

All of which she was determined to ignore. Except for him.

Except for Chuck.

"What if it's importan—?"

She spun back to him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm busy."

"Oh." The wide-eyed look of shock melted into awe, and then that melted even further into sheer pleasure as she started to buck into his lap enthusiastically. She grabbed his head in her hands and pressed her chest against his, burying her lips in his hair and for all intents and purposes, going to town on him until she felt him climax beneath her simultaneously with her own finish.

They shook together, shivering, clinging, grasping…panting…

And then they melted into the couch. Chuck turned them over and scooted up her body, draping himself half over her, tucking his face into her neck as she held him to her, ignoring the way his soft curls tickled her nose.

The satisfaction was overwhelming, the sensations still zooming through her limbs, making her feel unstoppable like little else had before. And they stayed that way for long enough that she wondered if Chuck had dozed off.

She was close to falling into that blissful realm between wakefulness and unconsciousness herself when she spoke, quite out of nowhere. "My boss is gonna be pissed I didn't answer the phone. I don't care," she added as an afterthought. "I'm surprised by just how much I don't care."

Chuck didn't move and she thought maybe he was asleep after all, so she kept going. Because, damn it, she had to. She was going to let it out for once in her life instead of swallowing it down and letting it eat at her from the inside.

"I'm on vacation. That doesn't happen often. I don't often get a chance to enjoy myself away from work and…And I've got nothing to say to him until I get back."

She was struck with numbing melancholy then. 'Until I get back' had slid a knife right through her chest. Because once she was back that meant she wasn't here. This would be over. Not just vacation but…whatever this was between her and Chuck. The overwhelming magnetism, the lust, the sweet bliss of how much she liked life when she was around him.

Sarah was stirred from her upsetting thoughts as Chuck turned his face to kiss her collarbone that stuck out from the neck of her T-shirt. "I bet you're really good at what you do."

So he wasn't asleep. He was simply listening to her.

That, too, was very very new. She was always the one who listened. And observed.

She smiled, feeling the bitterness in it. And she was glad his face was nuzzled into her neck where he couldn't see said bitterness. "No point in my being modest about it. I am really good at what I do."

The best, she silently added. And the bitterness increased.

She continued again because he was here, because she knew in her heart of hearts that it wouldn't really matter what she said here. He was harmless. He was listening. She would be gone soon. He would forget about her. And about everything she'd ever said to him.

"I just feel so torn sometimes," she said quietly. "It's like…they don't need any of their other employees as much as they need me. And at the same time it's like I—I feel like I work in the shadows. Like they keep me in the shadows on purpose. Like…" She swallowed thickly, knowing he wouldn't take it as literally as she meant it, but still feeling uncomfortable saying it. "Like I'm their secret weapon."

Chuck was silent for a moment and then he moved, propping himself up over her, his head in his palm, his other hand curling around her opposite hip. She tried her best to keep her heart rate down. She was giving him a lot. She really didn't mean to give him this much. But he thought she was talking about her job as a translator. He'd never imagine in his wildest dreams that she was an assassin with the CIA. Nobody would guess that. If she told him that straight to his face, he'd probably chuckle and think she was teasing.

"You don't get much acknowledgement from the brass, huh?"

Sarah knew he didn't mean brass literally. He wasn't using it in the military sense that it was meant to be used in. He was simply being cute. But it still left her a little unsettled at how accurate his words were.

She shrugged. "I don't need them to pat me on the back. I don't need awards or a placard on an office wall that says 'Employee of the Month' or anything like that. That's not how I roll," she added to make him smile. It had it's desired effect and something deep inside of her fluttered.

He paused, his thumb drawing distracting circles on her hip bone. For the first time, she recognized that he had a certain face he made when he was thinking. His brow furrowed, his lips pursed. And she could almost see the gears inside of his head cranking. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. She'd seen the face before. And she decided she really liked that face a lot.

"You…" He paused again. "You feel like they're taking advantage of you. Like they take your work and your loyalty for granted." He sighed and moved a little closer, reaching up to push a bit of hair from her face. "They expect you to be there. They expect you to kick ass. And people who aren't as good as what you do get a blue ribbon just for showing up."

She pulled her face back a bit and narrowed her eyes. Because he'd hit the nail on the head. Bullseye. "I guess so. Kind of specific, though. Are you speaking from experience?"

He smiled. "No, not me. Ellie went through something like that at the hospital she was at before the one she's at now. She needed extra shifts, so whenever they called to ask if she could take a shift, she showed up. But then it got to the point where they took her for granted. She'd say no and they'd treat her like shit for it, even though she wasn't obligated."

"That's gross," she said.

"Yeah. S'why she's not there anymore."

"Good for her."

He smiled again and stroked the side of her face with the backs of his fingers. It was such a familiar, intimate thing for him to do and she fought to keep herself from seizing up. "I'm sorry you're being treated that way, Sarah. You deserve better."

And then Chuck curled his hand around hers and lifted both to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. This was also incredibly familiar, and oh so intimate.

It made her want to run in the other direction—mostly because it felt so good, because a massive part of her wanted him to keep doing things like that.

She couldn't run. Not now. She wouldn't.

So instead, she let her body take control again.

"Chuck?"

"Hm."

"Will you do something for me?"

His mouth stretched into a small, crooked smile. "Of course."

She wrapped her hand around his bicep that was surrounding her body and squeezed. "Will you take me to your bed and make me forget about all of this bullshit with my work?" She let out a sigh. "Everything." She paused. "If only for awhile."

It wasn't anything she'd ever asked from anyone before. She'd never sought comfort or even distraction from another person—she'd especially never verbalized that need.

But Chuck did exactly what she needed him to do in that moment.

He brought his hand up to his forehead and saluted her like a huge dork, a big ol' grin on his handsome face. And then he less-than-gracefully pushed his boxers off, got rid of his shirt, and did the same with what she was wearing.

She laughed at him, yelping when he tugged her to sit up and stripped her of his T-shirt. When they were both buck naked, he hoisted her into his arms and grandly stepped around the couch, marching to the bedroom of the suite like a soldier doing his duty.

Sarah let her glee spill out of her, so glad he'd made a game of it instead of making her feel vulnerable and raw. It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And the moment he climbed under the covers of his bed beside her, they joined. There was no foreplay, no kissing and touching, no whispered words of encouragement or desire.

Chuck slung her left leg over his arm and bent it back as he moved inside of her, panting into her hair, groaning. Sarah clung with everything in her, memorizing every sensation, from the hair on his chest gliding over her hard nipples, to the way he felt so hard and hot inside of her, the way his finding her g-spot made her whole body feel that explosion of tingles that happened in your arm when you hit your funny bone. The churning of his back muscles under her fingers that grappled for some part of him that she could hold onto. The softness of his hair between her fingers as she finally did find something she could hold onto.

He did what she asked him to do.

She forgot about everything but him. The CIA, her future, her past…everything faded away and all there was left was this.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Harder! Please, harder!"

Chuck came in at a different angle, shifting his body over hers, bending her leg back even further and thrusting his other arm under her shoulders. He drove into her harder and she let out a soft scream, reaching up to smash her fist into the headboard and shutting her eyes tight.

He groaned loudly and quickened his pace, not stopping until another climax spilled over her. But she pulled him in tightly and told him to keep going, rocking herself up into his thrusts this time.

They continued for a long time, relentless, rolling to and fro on the bed, the sheets and duvet eventually ending up on the floor, until finally Chuck was asleep facedown on his bed, his cheek smushed into the pillow.

She studied his face in the darkness and smiled a little, and then she finally got up, certain she'd worn him out.

It was just that she couldn't ignore the phone any longer. Graham was absolutely going to be pissed off that she didn't answer, nor did she call him back. And she wasn't going to now.

But as she picked up the phone and leaned against the arm of the couch, still completely naked, she saw he'd left a voicemail. She said a silent prayer as she lifted the phone to her ear to listen to it.

"Jenny, it's George," Langston Graham's voice said in the message. He was using names she'd recognize but no one else would, in case she'd been compromised and someone had her burner. They wouldn't be able to pin her to the CIA this way. "I'm sure you must be upset, being sidelined, suspended for the last week. I know you know what's best for you—you always have known what's best for you. And that means you won't disappear, will you? If this is you going off-grid, Jenny…" He warned in a clipped voice. "…It isn't going to be easy for you. Project notes were sent to your work email," he added. "If you don't show up for the project on Monday, you'll be considered…what is it the military call it? AWOL?" There was a loud click and the message ended.

She was right. He was pissed that she didn't answer. And she heard something else in his voice. Was it worry? Was he worried for her if she'd gone AWOL? Or was he worried about what that might mean for him with his superiors? Probably the latter.

He wouldn't expect her to call back. He just wanted her to show up on Monday.

And she would. She was going to show up on Monday. Her instructions for where to go to meet her contact were apparently sitting in her email now.

Sarah listened to the message again, listening carefully to his tone. Had she ever ignored his call before when she wasn't specifically in the middle of a mission and couldn't talk due to her surroundings? She didn't think she had. No wonder he was fretting about whether or not she went AWOL. But she didn't much appreciate the threat.

Anyways, if she had gone AWOL, she would've ditched this phone by now. He knew that. And maybe he had the threat in there in case she still had the phone, listened to the message, and was considering disappearing off the grid.

She listened one last time and as she lowered her phone to her side, mixed emotions broiling in her chest, she heard Chuck's feet shuffle against the floor behind her. She turned to see him standing in the doorway. He must've discovered she wasn't in bed and pulled on another pair of boxers to come out and investigate. And here she was totally naked, with nothing but a phone in hand.

Chuck blinked sleepily, his eyes quickly running down her body, before he pasted them blatantly to her face again. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"No, it's okay. We, uh, tired each other out." She blushed and walked to the couch, peeking underneath to find the boxers she'd borrowed. "Mind if I…?"

"Oh! No. Of course not."

"Thanks." She slid them on, then pulled the T-shirt on as well.

"Was that your boss? I mean, did he leave a message? He mad at you?" He finished his question with a wide yawn.

"Uh, yeah. But I can handle it." She shrugged and started gathering her running clothes from where she'd left them on the floor.

"I'm sure you can."

That earned him a smile. When she stood up straight, everything in hand, he walked into the room a bit further.

"You going back to your room?"

"Yeah. I'm exhausted." She smoothed a hand down her front. "You don't mind if I return these to you later?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I don't mind. If we were in college, this might be kind of like a walk of shame."

Sarah closed the distance between them with a soft giggle, then moved in to kiss his lips slowly. "Except that I'm not ashamed."

He hummed and gave her a derpy closed-mouth smile. "Mmm you should be."

With one last quick giggle and a grin, she pecked him on the lips and pat his chest, before walking out of his suite with a skip in her step.

It took a little longer to get back to her room because she took the stairs. She wasn't as exhausted as she told Chuck she was. But she wanted to be alone.

She filled the tub in her bathroom and slid into it, a few minutes later, letting her body and her thoughts soak for a little while.

Graham's voice was ringing in her ears. The way it'd sounded so sharp, so brittle. There was a lot at stake. He knew it. And maybe he wasn't quite as confident anymore in what her decision might be come Monday. She didn't even know, did she? All she knew was that she had to be there.

If she showed up on Monday and chose not to continue with the CIA, that would be that. But if she didn't meet her contact in two days, she would be chased down like she was a criminal. The CIA didn't take AWOL quite as well as the military did. And the military didn't treat AWOL soldiers all that well.

And like every decision she'd ever made in her life, she had to make this one alone.

When the courts gave her the decision between her mother and father, she'd been too young for that kind of responsibility. But she'd done it. For better or for worse.

She'd have to choose on her own again this time. The CIA, or a life on her own. The worst part was that there was no guarantee that life would be as normal as she pictured it. An apartment with her things, being stationary, having a job at a desk…

God, could she even do that? Could she sit at a desk for 9 hours a day? She wasn't sure she could. In fact, she pretty much knew she couldn't. But there were other jobs, right? The job she told Chuck she had wasn't the type of job that had a person sitting at a desk all day. She would get to travel, meet people.

But she would need a degree, a resume. Neither of which she had. And again, she thought about the degree she did have, but under a different name. If she used that name, she would have to abandon Sarah Walker.

She liked Sarah Walker.

She liked being Sarah Walker.

She felt at home as Sarah Walker.

When she crawled into bed an hour later, her mind was no more made up than it had been days earlier. It didn't matter how much time she spent thinking about it, or how much time she spent distracting herself in the arms of a warm and charming man with undeniable talent in the bedroom.

Two more days. Three more nights.

She didn't even look at the email. She'd do that , she stared at her ceiling until she couldn't stand the sight anymore, and she threw her duvet over her head.

One thing she didn't regret, even though she knew she probably should, was letting off her chest some of what she'd been bottling up inside of her for…years, probably. Chuck didn't know where she actually worked, or what she actually did. But he stayed there and listened to her tell him why she was dissatisfied with her job. He understood. He reassured her.

She couldn't remember the last time something had normalized her existence quite like hearing Chuck talk about how his sister's old hospital had treated her. She'd been undervalued in spite of her hard work. They'd taken her for granted. They'd grown to expect more out of her than anyone else, taking advantage of her loyalty.

That was something normal people with normal jobs experienced from their employers.

Sarah had something in common with a regular woman. Someone who didn't travel the globe stalking criminals, taking out tyrants with bullets or poison.

It felt good talking to Chuck. It felt good having someone listen to her without interrupting, without telling her what to do. He hadn't even given advice. He'd just listened, soaked it in, let her get it out, and then he'd made her feel good.

The way he'd kissed her hand. How genuinely positive he was that she deserved a better lot than what she was given.

If only he knew the truth. Maybe he'd change his mind about what she did and didn't deserve. That thought made her feel a little ill.

But Chuck did know some of the truth. She had been more herself this past week with him than she had been ever in her life. Except perhaps when she was a child. She'd let her mask fall. She'd let him see…so much. She'd told him more than she'd ever told anyone.

He knew her true self. Beneath the job. Beneath the CIA. Beneath the Ice Queen. He saw her.

And what he saw made him say that. Made him say that she deserved better.

And in that moment, as she threw her duvet back off of her head and blinked away the beginning of tears, his words, the way he said them…It was everything to her.

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SarahsSupplyCloset