xxxXXXxxx
"It's true, Chuck."
"What's that?"
"Anything you want, you can have." She laid her hand on his back and gently pulled him close to her.
The two kissed, slow and soft, paused, looked into each other's eyes and shared smiles, then kissed again. And again. The grimness of their situation would wait until tomorrow.
~o~o~O~o~o~
Slow became fast. Soft became firm. Sarah wrapped her other arm around Chuck and pressed him against her. He placed one hand in the small of her back and the other on the mattress, lifting her from the bed. They kissed like never before, save once, and then even that kiss was eclipsed. Her hands wanted to know every inch of him and roamed freely; his hand against her back did not budge, keeping their bodies fused and the kiss ongoing.
Chuck was dizzy, having unconsciously held his breath. He did not want to, but he finally had to break the kiss, gasp in the needed air. With the physical frenzy momentarily subsiding and their faces only inches apart, his eyes focused on Sarah's as hers reciprocated. Each looked at the other as though they were beholding a wonder. Sarah's exploring hands came up to his face and then slid into his hair, entwining her fingers with it. A grin slowly formed on her face and she oh-so-slightly arched one eyebrow. Chuck's eyes grew large and asked, Are we… Are we about to…? Sarah's eyes, ablaze with blue fire, responded, Yes. Oh, yes.
Chuck fought with the blankets that had twisted around the two of them, and wrestled with Sarah's legs that had a vise grip on his waist and were reluctant to let go.
"Don't move. Don't move," he said.
She propped herself up on her elbows. "Okay."
"Don't breathe. Don't-move-don't-breathe." Finally free, Chuck hopped from the bed. "Don't move. Just stay there. Stay there. Stay. Stay." He scooped up his pants as he scampered to the bathroom.
Chuck closed the door. Part of him knew it was silly to have run into the bathroom, but a larger part of him was gripped with rising panic. It had been so long for him, and Sarah was such a beautiful and confident woman, that he was not feeling very, well, cocksure that he could put protection on under her gaze. But he could take care of it in the bathroom and head right back to her. He had his wallet out and fished with a finger in one of its pockets. There it was, the square he was looking for, yet it felt odd as he pulled it free. He held a wrapped condom that had a piece of paper he did not recognize folded around it. Baffled, he opened the paper and saw writing.
You Got This!
Just Don't Think About Jill.
Your Pal, Morgan
Chuck stared at the note for a long moment. With a shake of his head, he crumpled the slip of paper and tossed it into the small waste bin. He started, distractedly, working at the condom wrapper's corner.
Why is Morgan in my wallet and leaving notes? And when? 'Don't think about Jill.' Why would he write that? Is that supposed to be a pep talk? It's a HORRIBLE pep talk. I wasn't going to think about Jill. She was the furthest thing from my mind. But now I'm thinking of–
The square slipped from his fingertips and tumbled away.
*splink*
No! Chuck watched the wrapped condom sink towards the bottom of the toilet bowl, and then some trick of the wrapper's aquadynamics sent it scooting into the outlet cavity, as if swimming for an escape. NO! Chuck fell to his knees and stared into the bowl. Motel toilet water stood between him and… he glanced at the bathroom wall in the direction of the bed. Teeth gritted, he plunged his hand into the toilet, letting his fingers grope deeply into the bend. Please, please, please let me only find the condom. He twisted his wrist, contorted his body, and splashed some. Yes! He withdrew his hand, the wrapped condom in his grasp. "Ah hah! Come to papa."
Chuck froze. He was not alone. Still kneeling, his face flush with embarrassment, he slowly turned his head to stare at Sarah standing in the bathroom doorway.
Sarah was also frozen, her eyebrows high and mouth agape as she stared at him. "I, um, thought I heard a struggle in here."
Chuck tried to brighten his expression, but the attempt was feeble. The wrapped condom was pinched between the thumbs and index fingers of his hands, and he held it out towards her like an offering, "It's still good. It's, uh, it's sealed." He drew it close to his face, peered at it and saw the tear that ran about a third of the wrapper's length. "Well, mostly."
Chuck's shoulders slumped and his face fell. With a dejected huff he tossed the compromised package into the waste bin to join that infernal note. He looked back at Sarah. Her face was twisted up. She snorted out a laugh and again screwed up her face in an attempt to hold back laughter. Failing, the giggles came unchecked.
With a shake of his head Chuck joined in, and through his chuckling said to no one, "I'm going to kill you, Morgan."
Sarah cocked her head. Chuck asked, "If I told you this was Morgan's fault would you believe me?"
As her laughter tapered off, Sarah replied, "Yes, strangely, I would." She reached a hand out to him. "How about you get off the floor and come back to bed with me, it's okay."
Chuck offered hopefully, "I could run out to a gas station or something."
Sarah's eyes were twinkling and there was a slight lilt in her voice, "No, I mean it's okay, the CIA encourages its female field agents to take precautions."
"Oh. Yeah?"
"Yeah." Sarah, her smile widening, extended her other hand to Chuck, beckoning. His smile matching hers, he raised a finger to silently ask for a moment before pushing himself up and going to the sink to wash his hands. Finished, he finally took both of her hands and leaned in to give her a quick kiss.
Chuck asked, "So why didn't you stop me from running in here?"
"You were too adorable to stop. Plus I needed to catch my breath."
"You needed to catch your breath?"
"Oh yeah."
The two made their way to the bed and joined under its covers.
~oOo~
Exhilaration. Exhaustion. Eventually, sleep.
~oOo~
Chuck stirred. A tiny corner of his brain was saying something about danger, about needing to get on the move, but his mind was awash with such swollen contentment that the warning message could not rise above a murmur.
A scent filled his nostrils. He knew that scent, he often dreamt of it, but as his deep slumber slowly receded the scent uncharacteristically remained, unlike a dream. He felt fingertips that were not his softly stroking the back of his hand. He was on his side and there was a corporeal warmth that touched his chest. His eyes still closed, he stirred again and the warmth responded by pressing firmly into him, molding itself to his every angle, running nearly the length of his body.
Sarah.
He opened his eyes and carefully lifted his head to take in the scene as memories of last night rushed back. The two of them were spooned together, his arm draped on her side with her arm then on top of his. Their fingers slowly interlaced, and he laid his head back down, his nose nuzzling her hair and again drawing in her scent. He shifted and she responded by moving her legs.
Eep!
Chuck quietly said, "Sarah." Nothing. Slightly raising his volume he spoke again. "Sarah Walker."
Sarah hummed a vague acknowledgement of her name, her eyes only half open.
"I've found your one imperfection."
"Oh?"
"Your feet are cold."
Sarah rubbed her feet against his. "I can take them away."
"Over my dead body." His intended levity fizzled. The whisper of warning in his head became a sobering shout.
The two despooned as Sarah rolled over to face him. They exchanged wan smiles and then he nodded, a silent acknowledgement that he knew they needed to get to work. They both sat up in bed.
Chuck asked, "What can I do?"
"Can the laptop you brought get online? I want to plan our route and some alternatives in case we need them."
"I'll see if the wireless modem has any luck picking up a signal. You can use the bathroom first if you want."
Sarah slid out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes. As she entered the bathroom Chuck asked, "Could you toss me my pants?" She leaned out and lobbed his balled up pants to him, then disappeared back into the bathroom. Chuck stood, put on the pants and stretched his arms, then moved towards the window to take in a moment of the early morning sunlight.
~.~.~
Casey lowered the binoculars. The license plate was a match. With the cell tower information and the early morning satellite images, the Castle's computers were able to transmit a short list of possible matches ordered by the computer algorithms' level of confidence. Ryker had driven to check on the top match while Casey had gone to check on the next match down. He had parked the SUV a few hundred feet away at a small gas station, using a pickup truck there to partially block his vehicle from the view of anyone who might be looking from the motel where sat what he now knew was Sarah's car, yet still give him a clean line of sight to each motel room door.
He put the binoculars to his eyes again. The motel was clearly well past its best days, and Casey only saw one other car in its lot, which likely belonged to the motel's clerk. He could probably go to the counter and use the FBI ruse again to find out which–
Movement caught his eye. The curtains in a room window had parted and standing there was a figure. After a couple seconds the figure moved back into the recesses of the room. The glint of the sunlight on the window glass had obscured the person's details, but Casey knew that lanky silhouette. Moron, I taught you better than that. All you were missing was a bullseye on your chest.
Casey pulled out his cellphone and moved his thumb towards Ryker's number to call it. His thumb hovered there, over but not touching the screen. He looked back at the motel, stared for a long moment, then again at the phone and back to the motel.
There was a buzz that snapped his attention back to his phone. He saw the caller ID and braced himself for Ryker before pressing down to accept the call.
"It was a bust here, Major. How about you? You have the car or do we need to move down the list?"
Casey pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's hers. And I have visual confirmation that Bartowski's here."
"I'm maybe ten minutes out, probably less. If they start to move, follow them. Otherwise, wait there for me and together we'll take Walker and take out the target. You can make amends for letting them slip away yesterday." Casey silently bared his teeth as Ryker ended the call.
~.~.~
Chuck finished buttoning his Herd shirt and sat at the table with his messenger bag. The sound of the bathroom sink running was just audible and Chuck's attention drifted. Is she brushing her teeth? I bet she's brushing. Or maybe washing her face. Yeah, it could be that. Or... He pulled himself back. He wanted only to think about Sarah and about the two of them, how something that he feared was unattainable now seemed within reach. But if they did not stay a step ahead of Beckman, Graham and Casey, whatever was happening between the two of them would abruptly, absolutely end.
He slid his hand into his bag for the laptop computer and was surprised to feel it vibrating. Rhythmically vibrating, but it was not the computer. As his fingers wrapped around a familiar rectangular shape he felt dread in the pit of his stomach. It can't be. He withdrew his hand and paled as he stared at his cellphone, a picture of Ellie on the screen identifying her as the caller.
"Sarah." Chuck bounded from his seat towards the bathroom. "Sarah! I don't know how, but my phone!"
Sarah stepped out of the bathroom, buttoning her jeans and wearing an athletic bra. "What?" Seeing the phone that Chuck was holding out she said firmly, "We've got to go, now! Power that down, smash it, pack up every–"
*CRACK!*
The motel room's door slammed violently inward, the deadbolt and security chain splintering free from the molding as an expertly aimed boot finished its breaching kick.
Sarah immediately moved. Immediately tried to move, but Chuck, stunned, stood in her path to the nightstand where her pistol lay. She shouldered past him and was wrapping her fingers around the gun's grip as a spray of splinters erupted inches from her hand, the result of a suppressed round plowing into the nightstand.
Chuck shrieked.
~oOo~
General Beckman and Director Graham strode side-by-side down the corridor. In Beckman's hand was the clamshell case containing the Cipher. Behind them trailed six agents, all in dark suits and wearing heavily tinted sunglasses to protect their eyes from light saturation. When they reached the end she handed the case to one of two technicians wearing white coveralls and gloves.
Beckman and Graham were tense as they waited. The destruction of the first Intersect installation had been a reputational hit for them, especially Graham. Then very recently there was another hit, this time worse for Beckman, when mercenaries were able to steal the Cipher from an NSA lab. Yet all was about to be set right. The new Intersect computer was moments away from receiving the Cipher and producing the first batch of Intersected special agents. They soon would be able to aggressively take the fight to Fulcrum.
Graham opened the door and they all stepped into a large, all white room, nearly featureless except for a pedestal in the center crowned by the Intersect computer terminal.
~oOo~
"Freeze, Walker!" Casey's voice boomed louder than the shot he had just fired. "Place the gun back down and slowly turn around with your hands where I can see them."
Sarah had her gun in hand, her back to Casey. She slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder. "I do that and then what? You shoot us both?"
"Graham would prefer to get you back alive rather than in a bodybag. Now put it down." Casey's voice took on a warning tone as he regripped his silencer equipped pistol and aimed it squarely at Sarah. "Walker, do it."
Chuck had instinctively raised his hands out to his sides showing his palms to Casey. Sarah, however, did not budge. Chuck's eyes darted between Casey and Sarah and alarm bells went off in his head. She was about to make a desperate attempt to stop Casey, Chuck could sense it. "Sarah, please do what he wants."
"If I do that, Chuck, you're…" Sarah's voice trailed off.
Chuck looked at Casey pleadingly. "You promise that Sarah won't be harmed if we don't resist? You swear it on… on the memory of Ronald Reagan?"
"Yes."
"On the Gipper, Casey?"
"Yes, moron, I swear it!"
Chuck kept his hands up and moved slowly toward Sarah. "I'm taking Sarah's gun. I'm going to slowly turn and toss it to you. You know you don't have anything to worry about from me." As he reached her side he could feel anguish rolling off her. She looked at him and shook her head slightly, implored Chuck with her eyes to let her try something. Chuck pictured her exchanging gunfire with Casey. She could not outduel Casey from this position, but maybe she believed she could match him, neutralize him at the price of her life.
Chuck had found his composure and was determined to not let her sacrifice herself. He calmly brought his hands down, placed one on top of the pistol and withdrew it from her grip. Very slowly he turned back around and lobbed the pistol, a smidge too energetically. It landed beyond Casey's feet and skidded to the doorway. Chuck grimaced. Casey's eyes –and his pistol's barrel– remained aimed at Sarah.
"Dammit, Casey!" Sarah, who had turned and was facing him, yelled. "Why are you doing this?"
Casey barked back, "I'm finishing the mission!"
"The mission was to keep Chuck safe! Have you forgotten that?"
"The mission is to safeguard the Intersect and keep it out of our enemies' hands. I'm not the one who forgot that. Bartowski's days as the Intersect…" Casey looked at Chuck and swallowed uncomfortably. "Are over."
Casey's breathing quickened and his voice softened, sounding uncharacteristically convictionless. "I'm sorry, Chuck. The Greater Good. My orders." Casey swivelled slightly at the waist and levelled his gun at Chuck. It trembled slightly.
Sarah's defiance collapsed. "Casey, please, no." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Without Chuck, I'm nobody. I'm nothing but a spy." She let out a strangled sob. "He loves me."
Major John Casey blinked.
"Did you hear me, John?"
Lieutenant Alexander Coburn blinked. What seemed a lifetime ago.
"Did you hear me, Alex?"
Alex was staring, the bustle of the Buffalo bus station surrounding him forgotten, marveling at how lovely –in every way imaginable– the woman before him was. He nervously clenched and unclenched the filled hand he had in his jacket pocket. "Sorry, Kathleen. I was lost in thought."
"I said, without you, I'm nobody. Nothing more than a lonely girl pining for her man." Kathleen smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.
"Kathleen, don't say that." He shuffled his feet. "You know I'm not good with this… mushy stuff. But I'm the nobody. I mean I was that before you. I… You…" Alex pulled his closed hand from his coat pocket and thrusted it towards her, his fingers uncurling to reveal a simple yet elegant engagement ring. "Please be my wife."
Kathleen's breath caught. Eyes moist and her face aglow with happiness, she said, "Yes, of course!" She stepped in close and raised up on her toes to give him a long kiss. When the kiss ended she looked at him, still smiling, but her eyes tinged with sadness. "I wish you didn't have to go."
"I know, but I need to do this. I'm going to make Spec Ops and prove to you that you're not making a mistake betting on me."
"You don't need to prove anything to me. I already know you're a good man. I certainly don't need the Marines to tell me that. I'm saying 'Yes' because I know I can count on you to do the right thing, always." Kathleen's smile broadened, the sadness gone from her eyes, and she reached out to cup his face. "You're good to your core, Alex. Don't forget that. Come back to me in one piece, okay? I love you."
John Casey's eyes opened.
His gaze went to Sarah, lingered there for several heartbeats, transfixed by the look on her face. He pulled his eyes away and tried to sight along his pistol again, but seeing Chuck at the end of the barrel caused his stomach to clench and his hands to once again tremble. I gave up what I had with Kathleen… to do this? To Chuck? He glanced at Sarah. To Walker? Am I sacrificing my honor, too? His stance softened and his outstretched arms began to drop, bringing the aim of his gun away from Chuck.
There was a flicker of relaxation from Sarah, then she stiffened. Her eyes, growing wide, looked past Casey. Casey turned, but he already knew: Kieran Ryker had arrived.
Ryker was just inside the doorway, coming out of a crouch with his pistol in one hand and Sarah's pistol now in his other. His glare covered all three as he kicked the door closed with his heel.
xxxXXXxxx
A/N: Please consider reviewing, Chicago-style: Early and Often. :-)
Thanks again to my betas/motivators, David Carner, SmatterChoo, WillieGarvin and Zettel. A special thank you to Zettel who gave extensive feedback on this chapter that helped me make a bunch of refinements to it.
The dialog from "Don't move" to "Stay. Stay." is lifted verbatim from S2:E21 "Chuck vs. the Colonel." "I'm going to kill you, Morgan" is also taken from that episode, although used somewhat differently in this alternate version of the scene.
Sarah's line pleading with Casey is a close paraphrasing of what Sarah said to a catatonic Chuck in S4:E9 "Chuck vs. the Phase Three." (Exact show quote is: "Without you I'm nobody. I'm nothing but a spy.") A great line from a great scene from a great episode, and one of my most favorite scenes from the series.
Casey's story to Chuck in S4:E11 "Chuck vs the Balcony" about Casey's (then Alex Coburn's) proposal at the bus stop is perhaps my favorite Casey-has-a-heart moment of the series. Certainly one of three that immediately come to mind when I ponder that. And almost certainly has to be Casey's longest uninterrupted monologue. Imagining that proposal and writing it here was a lot of fun.
There are a lot of reasons I immensely enjoy WillieGarvin's novel-plus length story "Chuck vs A New Day." One of them is the thorough research he does to bring as much historical and technical accuracy to his story as the "Chuck" universe he is working in will allow. When he beta'd this chapter he shared the following interesting tidbit, which I am now sharing with you, describing how "Chuck" canon (and thus my story, which is following canon) took liberties with Casey's military past:
"So here's the deal on spec ops. The regular military always hated them. They stole the best guys and equipment. They got the glory. They didn't do important things like holding the Fulda Gap against the Soviets (like a tank battalion would). So they were always treated like sh!t by the regular military.
"So they fought back against the regular military in a totally spec ops kind of way. They went to Congress and got Congress to reorganize the military. In 1987 Congress created the Special Operations Command (SOCCOM) to take command of all the spec ops forces. Green Berets, Delta, Navy Seals, Rangers, etc.
"But no Marines. The Marines took the position, we don't need this sh!t. We are all special. You guys go do what you want.
"And that worked fine for everyone, until after 9-11. At that point Rumsfeld started to give all the cool jobs to SOCCOM. The Marines kept raising their hands to volunteer and never got picked. So finally they said f*ck it. We better get some guys in SOCCOM. So they stood up a spec ops unit in 2005 and got to play with the cool kids.
"Casey could not have been in a Marine spec ops unit in the 80's or 90's."
Thanks, WG!