A/N: David here. Some have referred to me as the fluff king. Today, we are all going to school and see exactly how little we all know about fluff. Find something to hold onto, because ain't none of us ready for this. Long live SC.
Disclaimer: We do not own Chuck or its characters.
One of the waves she'd meticulously curled into her long blond hair was wonky. And it was pissing her off. She tried to re-curl it. She tried to wet it again, dry it, and then re-curl it. And she finally gave up and merely pulled some of her other hair over to cover it up as best she could.
And maybe she was getting too far up into her own head, stressing about her appearance to try to pull herself back out of it again. But it only distracted her momentarily. Because her mind kept wandering back to a place where she thought she might grab her phone and cancel this whole thing. He'd be so disappointed. She might be even more disappointed than him.
But as much as he was right about them having earned this night, a night in which they could have fun and be their real selves, just enjoy one another's company without covers or missions, that wasn't the way any of this worked. Just because you earned something, didn't mean you got it. That was life. That was this job. She knew that better than anybody, perhaps.
And then there was the fact that while he'd earned getting to sit at a table across from the woman he wanted, on a real date, without all of the spy shit, she wasn't quite so sure that she'd earned the right to sit across from the man she wanted. It was a quandary. He'd earned it; she hadn't.
But he wouldn't get what he'd earned and wanted if she wasn't there…
And that was maybe the thing that made her pick out this deep purple number that was stretchy and clingy in all the right places. He wanted her. He'd made it clear, in a way that was purely Chuck. Without the bedroom eyes, without the smirk, and without saying it outright.
Instead, it was a jumble of meaningful, warm, and somewhat heartbreaking things that made her feel wanted more acutely than any blatant come-ons ever had.
She studied herself in the mirror and smoothed her hands down her front, fixing the hem of the dress that stopped midway down her thighs. As she stepped into her heels, she glanced over at her drawer where she kept her S&W. Well, one of them. Her favorite one.
No missions, he'd said. No spy gear. Away from the CIA and the NSA. But could she really do that? She went to the drawer and slid it open, looking at her gun. And she took it out, holding it in her hand, staring down at it. It made her feel safe having it with her at all times.
And Chuck needed protection. That was still her highest priority. It was the reason why she was still even in the CIA. She would've been gone by now if it weren't for Operation Bartowski, if it weren't for the Intersect, and Bryce sending it to his old college friend.
And yet here she was going out on a date with Chuck Bartowski. Her asset.
She'd since decided against cancelling. It would hurt him too bad. It would throw him out of whack, affect his emotional and mental state, make the Intersect unusable. Rolling her eyes at herself, she admitted the real reason. She didn't call him to cancel because she wanted this.
Fuck it.
She wanted one damn night when she could just relax, eat food, and enjoy Chuck Bartowski for everything that he was. Without stifling her smile or laughter.
But she was definitely taking the gun. Tonight would be about having fun, but she still had her mission.
There was a knock on her door then and she took another deep breath, looking at her watch. He was right on time. Timeliness was a really good trait for a date to have, she thought to herself with a small smirk, and she went towards the door, preparing to stuff her gun in her bag.
And then she stopped, leaning her hip against the entryway table, looking down at the gun again.
He'd offhandedly said 'no gunfights' as he left, and she hadn't missed the flirtatious glint in his brown eyes when he'd said it. But she also wondered if...if she could really be her full self if she felt the weight of the gun in her bag. Her gun was synonymous with the spy life. And escaping the spy life was what this one night was about, wasn't it?
She put the gun on the table, took a deep breath, settled herself, shut her eyes for a second, and opened them again, fixing a happy look on her face. It wasn't a difficult thing to do, especially once she opened the door and found Chuck on the other side.
His grin stretched over his face and she grinned back. "Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"You ready to go?" he asked and she smiled, nodding, leaving her room behind. Leaving her gun behind. Leaving the spy life behind.
Just for one night.
}o{
"You know, what would be really cool is if we could also leave the Buy More life behind for tonight, along with the spy life. But unfortunately, I don't have a car of my own because I'm a loser, so we're driving to get dinner for our real date in a car that has 'Nerd Herd' slapped on the side of it in really, really big letters."
Sarah snorted, shaking her head at him and giving him a warning look. "Don't do that."
"What?"
"You're not a loser, Chuck. We're not doing that tonight. You aren't going to spend our real date dunking on yourself."
That made him laugh and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Sorry," he said, holding a hand up and smothering his laugh a bit. "Dunking on myself. That was legendary, Sarah Walker."
She giggled, trying not to let him see her blush. Sure, she was lowering some of the walls for tonight, but she wasn't letting him see everything. And of course, that thought made her blush harder. Her brain hadn't gotten the memo.
"But you're right," he amended with a nod. "That's not fun at all and tonight is about fun!"
"Let's not go overboard with this fun thing, okay, Chuck? Like, if a ball pit is anywhere in your itinerary for tonight, just cross that of the list right now." She grinned at how hard he laughed.
"Damn it." He took one hand off the steering wheel and pretending to strike something off of a list. "Ball pit's a no go. Well, that just leaves the bouncy castle and the clown, I guess."
"Eww!" Sarah cracked up, shivering in spite of the joke. "That's awful."
"I know," he said. "I didn't even like that shit when I was a kid. I don't mean the bouncy castles, I mean the clowns. Just to...make myself clear. Bouncy castles were the shit."
Sarah just smiled at him and shrugged, looking forward.
"What?" he prompted. And maybe she should keep a few walls up. At least a little bit. Because he'd seen right through her just then. And in the darkness of the car, too.
"Hm? Oh. Nothing." She could see by the look he sent her that he'd seen right through her again and she sighed. "It's...stupid."
"Uh, I'm sure it's not. You don't do stupid, Agent—Wait. Wait, wait." She'd sent him a critical look at that. "Sorry. Sarah Walker. Miss Sarah Walker. You don't do stupid. Just tell me."
She felt herself smiling a little at his kindness. And then she shrugged. "Ball pits, bouncy castles… I didn't really...do that, as a kid."
"What? No birthday parties? No Chuck E. Cheese?"
"Uh, no." She ducked her head shyly and played with the clip on her purse. "I was never stationary long enough to get invited to birthday parties, believe it or not. So no bouncy castles. No Chuck E. Cheese ball pits."
"I see." He nodded quietly, and she could see there was a lot going through his head as he stopped at a red light. "Well, think of it as kind of a positive, you know? Those things were probably crawling with germs and bacteria. That's what you missed out on."
Sarah chuckled, not expecting that, and she shook her head at him. "You're so weird."
"Hey, I don't get to dunk on myself, but you get to dunk on me? What's that about?" he teased.
"I didn't say I don't like it," she answered, accidentally letting him hear the warm honey dripping from her voice. Or maybe she hadn't just flirted accidentally. Maybe she'd done it on purpose. Either way, she'd done it.
Chuck seemed to not know what to say to that. He just stared.
"Green light."
"Oh! Right, right. Green means go. Yes." He cleared his throat and kept driving. But she'd thrown him off, she could see. And she had to admit, she was having fun already. "Well, if you like weird so much, I'm just gonna have to be extra weird tonight. So prepare yourself." He made a face like he'd just said the stupidest thing ever. "Or not. Just kidding. See? I'm not even trying and here comes the weird. Like a tidal wave."
She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, take some deep breaths, Chuck."
He just shook his head and chuckled, blushing. "You wanted real Chuck, you're getting real Chuck."
Sarah watched him for a few moments, not saying anything, just taking him in. Real Chuck. She knew full well that he gave her real Chuck most of the time. If not all of the time. There weren't a lot of people in the world who were like that, she knew. Fully themselves.
"Good," she said quietly. "I will try to respond in kind. As best I can."
He was silent for a few moments as he drove them through the streets of Downtown LA. And then he glanced at her. "I appreciate that. A lot. And don't worry, I do not expect you to...Well, I have no expectations. What I mean to say is...be as much yourself as...you need to be? I'm not making sense."
She squeezed his arm, staring at him with a warm smile. "I think I get what you're saying. And thank you."
"Oh, good. That makes one of us." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I just want you to feel comfortable and...I dunno, safe. Tonight. I don't want ya to feel like you have to be anyone other than who you wanna be. Or do anything you don't wanna do. No wigs, no masks, no...accents."
She raised her eyebrows. "Not even zee Sveeedish accent?"
He barked out a laugh and pulled into a parking structure. "You are seriously so charming when you're a dork. I don't even know what to do with myself."
She smacked his arm and cracked up. "Shut up. I am no dork."
"Ehhh, kinda. Just a little. Sometimes."
"Now who's dunking on whom?" she giggled.
"I didn't say I don't like it."
They shared a look and she drawled, "Touché."
Chuck parked and turned off the Herder, but when she moved to open the passenger door and get out, he grabbed her arm, surprising her. "No, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait waitwaitwait…" He scrambled out of the car, shut his door, and sprinted around to her side, opening her door for her and leaning down with his hand outstretched towards her. "Sorry. I know this is somewhat old-fashioned. And obviously I know you can open your own door and handle those killer sexy heels like a boss because you have the strength of an elephant and the grace of a swan, but I wanted to do something for you that was real date-ish. So here we are."
Sarah laughed and took his hand, letting him help her out of the car and shut her door for her as she shifted out of the way. "I'll let you off with a warning."
He straightened to his full height, then glanced around, first to the right, then to the left. "I don't believe I received any warning…"
Sarah wordlessly stepped closer to him, their fronts nearly brushing, and she moved to her tiptoes, giving him heavy-lidded eyes. He froze, going perfectly rigid. And then she reached up and tugged on one of the curls that escaped his attempt at controlling his hair with product.
"Ow!"
She moved away from him, laughing. "Well? Where's this great place you wanted me to try then?"
"I'm sufficiently warned, I think," he murmured, wincing as he rubbed his head where she'd pulled his head, but grinning wildly at her all the same. He walked up to her and gestured out of the structure with a flick of his head. "Follow me, miss."
She wasn't sure if it was habit because of their cover, or if it was habit because she wanted the physical connection with him, because those two things seemed to go hand in hand at this point, but she wrapped her hands around his arm nearest her and moved in close, walking beside him down the sidewalk. "It's beautiful out tonight," she murmured.
"You're beautiful out tonight," he shot back immediately.
Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Wow. Okay. Thanks. Really coming in hot with the compliments, huh?"
"Oh, the hottest." That made her laugh again. "And come on, isn't that what you do on real dates? Compliment each other? I mean, it's not the only thing obviously. But it's...a thing. Right?" He shrugged. "Unless I've been doing this wrong since my first ever date. Her name was Ashley Wong. We were fourteen. And I think I might've cried at one point?"
Sarah held onto him tighter and rocked forward with laughter. "Why did you cry?"
"I don't even remember at this point. I think she probably made fun of Star Wars or something." He cracked up with her as they continued the stroll to their destination. She was usually annoyed by how hard it was to park in LA, especially downtown. But at the moment, she was okay with it. "But the important part of my even bringing that up is that I told her I really liked her headband."
"Oh. My God." She feigned an impressed look.
"I know, right? Such a charmer."
"Marriage material."
He threw his head back in laughter and Sarah used the distraction to ponder exactly what real dates were supposed to be like. Were they really supposed to be like anything? Was she putting weird expectations onto herself, onto this date, where she shouldn't be? It was just that she didn't know. She'd never been on a date like this. Besides the trip to the skating rink Chuck had set-up… But that didn't count. It had been a mission. Well, she thought it was a mission; he'd made her think it was a mission. So it didn't count.
Sarah wondered if real dates included pulling the other person into a narrow alley and kissing them. If he wanted the version of Sarah Walker without the walls she'd erected around herself, that was what that Sarah wanted to do at the moment. Lipstick be damned.
She didn't. She just squeezed his arm and grinned up at him, waiting for his laughter to die down. "Hey, do real dates include street tacos?" He sent her a doubtful look as they passed a street taco vendor on the sidewalk. "Can they include street tacos?"
He chuckled. "No. At least not this one. Or, I guess it could. If you really want to."
Shaking her head, she beamed. "No, I'm kidding. Take me to wherever it is you planned to take me."
"We are here! Best dumplings in LA." They stopped at the door of a restaurant that touted "Asian cousine" on the window and he opened the door for her. "Trust."
"Oh, I do." She winked.
They were seated immediately, which was kind of disconcerting, Sarah thought. How at this time of the night did a place that apparently had the "best dumplings in LA" not have every table full? She'd expect at least a ten minute wait for a table.
Chuck must have read the dubious look on her face because he wrapped his fingers around her hand and squeezed gently. "Trust me," he said quietly. She did.
He ran through a list of the things he knew were good and let her pick from there, then placed the order for both of them.
"Okay, I have a serious question."
She raised her eyebrow. "You really like asking serious questions on dates, don't you?"
"Are you referring to our first first date?" Giggling, she nodded. "I guess I do, yeah. That okay?"
"Sure," she said, smiling, sipping her water. "Go right ahead."
"Palm trees. Necessary? Or pointless?"
Sarah giggled, shaking her head. "God. You always do this."
"I know. I'm annoying. I legit wanna hear your opinion on this. I've asked other people before but there's no one's opinion I care about more than yours so…" That slow smile that wrinkled his nose and the corners of his eyes stretched over his face and she thought he must've been so pleased with himself. She couldn't blame him much. She was pleased with him, too. She didn't think anyone had ever said anything quite so sweet to her in her entire life.
And she thought that for the rest of her existence in this world, however long that was, whoever walked in and out of it, she would always remember the way Chuck Bartowski looked in this moment as he told her that he cared about her opinion more than he cared about anyone else's. It didn't matter how many people called her pretty. This right here would always make her heart race. God, and he'd asked a question about freaking trees. How was he even real? And then she thought no one had ever been quite this real, no one would ever be—
"...Sarah?"
She shook herself a little. "Well, you asked me a really difficult question," she explained, "and I had to think about it."
"Oh, fair enough. Fair enough," he assented with a nod. They smiled at each other over their drinks. But he kept staring expectantly.
"You're really making me answer this…"
"I'm really making you answer this. Yes."
Sarah shook her head and then sighed and nodded. "Okay, well...I think labeling any part of nature as 'pointless' is destructive and illogical. Everything in nature serves a purpose."
He looked at her with a quiet smile on his face. "Okay. I respect your answer. It's a good one. What do you say to the people who argue that palm trees—at least our trees here in SoCal—don't provide any edible fruit, and also don't provide appropriate levels of shade?"
"That's dumb. Just because humans don't get anything out of this tree, doesn't mean there aren't other creatures who find them useful. Birds, other creatures, have use for palm trees. Maybe not everything is about the human species all the time," she said, shrugging. "We act like our Earth exists just to fulfill our needs and our needs alone but that's conceited and stupid."
He let out a chuckle and disarmed her with a deeply warm smile. "I like your answer a lot. I'm going to start saying that when people from Colorado or a Carolina or something start saying shit about our palm trees." She giggled and shook her head. "See? This is why I value your opinion so much."
"Because I get heated over human arrogance?" she asked.
"I mean, I'll be real with you. I'm super into that." She raised her eyebrow at him, not sure what to say to that. "But also, you don't pull punches. And also, I just like you a lot in general. So there ya go."
She wondered if the whole date was going to be like this, if Chuck was going to spend all night saying things that made her chest flood with warmth. If that was his plan, she was going to have to stick her head under the faucet in the bathroom and run cold water onto it more than once. Which was weird but...apparently she liked weird. She also imagined a different way this night could potentially end. She was going to let herself imagine. And, she thought, she probably wouldn't stop herself if that ended up being where this night headed.
She would. Of course she would stop herself. But maybe...maybe she wouldn't.
She tried to shove the confusing contradictions out of her head. "I like you too, Chuck. But...you know that. At least I hope you do," she admitted quietly, meeting his gaze over her drink before taking a slow sip.
"I would not have marched into your yogurt shop like a man on a mission today to ask you out on a date if I didn't know that at least on some level," he said, chuckling.
"Is that what a man on a mission looks like? Terrified?"
"What?!" She laughed at his affronted look, the way he banged on the tabletop with his open palm. "I was not terrified!" He laughed as well. "Oh my God. How dare you? I was cool and collected, not to mention super smooth. I Can't Believe It's Not Butter smooth. Okay?"
"Is that smooth? Okay." She giggled and leaned in. "I'm kidding. You were very brave. Like a knight on his way to slay a dragon."
"Okay, that's enough," he drawled, snorting and shaking his head, half embarrassed and half amused, she thought. He was so much fun to tease, not because he didn't let it get under his skin the way Bryce and her dad did, but because he seemed to almost enjoy it when she did it. On the rare occasion she'd tried to tease Bryce, he hadn't taken it as well. She'd even gotten the silent treatment once. It was the same story with her dad. There was a certain level of ego and machismo that this man sitting in front of her simply seemed not to have. "And anyway, it isn't easy for me to ask...any ol' girl out on a date, let alone you. So go easy on me."
She liked the way the good-natured smile on his face looked. It was so genuine. She smiled back at him. "You're right. And I gotta hand it to ya. You really gave the rules a big ol' middle finger asking me out on a date. Your handler."
"Because I don't see you as my handler, Sarah."
Sarah propped her chin on her palm and leaned her elbow on the table. "You don't?" He shook his head. "What do you see me as?"
"A girl who, 'til just recently, made pretty good corndogs...annnnd also kicked bad guy ass on the side, while maintaining a kind and compassionate interior, and who managed to keep me from going off the deep end more times than I could count in the last couple of months. Not because it was her job, but because that's just...who she is." He shrugged as if he hadn't just said...that.
She just barely caught herself gaping and smiled down at the folded napkin in front of her. "Oh."
Inwardly rolling her eyes at herself, she wondered how that was really the only thing she could think to say to his incredibly meaningful words about her. "You know, that is...sort of my job. I mean, the…" She leaned in close and lowered her voice. "The Intersect wouldn't work too great if you went off the deep end, Chuck."
"Mhm. Keep telling yourself that, Sarah."
Sarah glared, but she didn't have it in her to hold it, and it broke into a soft snort and smirk. "Fine. Whatever. Believe what you wanna believe, nerd."
"Oh, I will. Know why? That's my whole life motto." He stretched his arms out to the sides in a this is me, take it or leave it sort of way and she giggled, watching as their food finally arrived.
She dug in after the waiter left and let out a long, "Mmmmmmm!" She glanced up at him, impressed. "I love noodles. I take noodles very seriously. That's something about me I think you should know."
"Noted." He tapped his temple, then dug into his own noodles.
"These are really fuckin' good noodles, Chuck. Mmmm." She shoveled more into her mouth and just let herself savor it for a few minutes. Los Angeles really was so good at food, she decided. And her current date was good at finding said food.
"My thing with these noodles is—hear me out—they have to be a little al dente, know what I mean? Not like...super hard al dente. But just a little harder than you'd cook, say, spaghetti. And the way the noodles just like...sop up the spices like they're little stringy sponges. Om nom nom."
Sarah giggled happily. "You're a goof."
"A goof who knows his shit," he corrected.
She nodded solemnly in agreement. "A goof who knows his shit. Yes." Then she fixed him with a long look and shrugged. She was going to do this because...well, fuck it. "I've never seen you wear that color before."
He stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows, swallowing slowly. "Oh. Uh...yeah." He glanced down at his shirt and tugged at it. "It's...yeah. I don't know. With my coloring, dark tends to...ahem. I always wear that white Nerd Herd button-up, you know, and it makes me look different than when I wear dark colors."
"You look good in dark blue."
He swallowed again and smiled a little. "Thanks. You doing the date complimenting thing?" She giggled. "Well, thanks. I, um, just grabbed this outta the closet and put it on." She had a feeling that wasn't the case, what with the way he'd gone out of his way to tell her that. Then he winced and shook his head. "That's a total lie. I tried on seven different shirts and was this close to making Ellie get up off the couch after her twelve hour shift to help me." She laughed, wondering if there was a word for how charmed she was by his incredibly disarming honesty. "However, I prevailed without bothering my sister. So...points for Chuck."
"Major points for Chuck." She giggled. And maybe it was a character failing, but she wasn't nearly as confident in admitting how many different outfits she'd tried on before settling on this dress, so she kept her mouth shut on that. "And for the record, you can wear dark button-ups like that outside of work whenever you want. That isn't cover girlfriend talking, either. That's first date real Sarah talking."
Chuck was still trying to clear his air passage when the rest of their food came. She pretended she wasn't quite noticing him guzzle water, thanking their waiter. And when he finally got back to normal, she bit into a dumpling and groaned again. "This food is really good. How'd you hear about this place, anyway?"
Chuck shoved a dumpling in his mouth with his chopsticks and sat up straighter. "Morgan, as a matter of fact." Sarah raised her eyebrows. "The man has a blackbelt in dumplings. I trust any recommendation he gives me for food items less than ten dollars."
The way he just admitted that… He wasn't splurging on some insanely fancy expensive restaurant that was fifty dollars a plate. Instead, he chose someplace Morgan recommended, someplace with good food, less crowded, more laidback. It was...very different from what she expected from grown men. And not exactly in a bad way.
But she still gave him a look, stopping her chewing for the time being. "So our first date is a Morgan recommendation?" she asked.
"Wowwww! Wow, Sarah, okay. No faith in the little bearded man, huh?" She giggled as he finished chewing and swallowed. "I feel like you need to know that Morgan has always been supportive of our fake relationship. Right from the very beginning."
Sarah felt something building in the way he'd just phrased that. She felt it in her lower stomach. And she slowly lifted her eyes from the bowl she held in her hand to look right at him. "Everybody's been supportive of our fake relationship. Except for Harry Tang. But I don't think he's supportive of anything positive."
He chuckled. "Uh, no. But I don't—I just mean, you know. Morgan's never found it remotely unbelievable that a guy like me could be dating a…" He cleared his throat as she oh so delicately lifted noodles from her bowl with her chopsticks and let them drop into her mouth, keeping her gaze on him. He squirmed uncomfortably, then got a bit of a look on his face, like he maybe knew what she was doing, eating her noodles like that. "You know." He dug into his food again.
Sarah glanced up at him, picking at her noodles nonchalantly with her chopsticks. "What?"
She knew what. She absolutely knew what. But the delicious food and the warmth that had settled between them, the way things felt so comfortable in this moment, had overtaken her. And she was feeling a little mischievous. Flirtatious even.
Chuck chewed for a second. "Oh." He shrugged. "You know. You."
As if that explained everything. She knew what he was getting at. And while it wasn't exactly dunking on himself, at least not blatantly, she didn't appreciate the implication that they were in different leagues. It was bullshit. He couldn't even begin to understand just how bullshit it was.
She picked up some noodles from her bowl, holding it close to her face, leaning her elbows on the table with a bit of a flirty head tilt. "What about me?" she prompted, slowly sticking the noodles in her mouth. Her tongue darted out to pull a stray noodle back between her lips and she chewed, her lips pursed in a bit of a smirk.
He sniffed in amusement, grinning as he looked down at his own bowl. And then he lifted his gaze to hers and sat up straighter. "You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?"
She gave a cute one shoulder shrug, tilting her head, smiling at him, and finally putting her bowl down.
"Wow," he drawled. "Okay. Fine. All right. We'll play it your way." She gave him an amused, closed-mouth grin. "A girl like you," he said, and there was something in his tone, a sense of gravity, that made her lose the teasing smile as she looked up at him and just watched closely.
Warmth spread through her at the way his...everything...just softened. His eyes, his mouth, his posture...the way his eyebrows tilted just the right way.
"Or more appropriately, a woman like you." The warmth became something different just as quickly, and she lowered her chin slightly, looking up through her eyelashes just a bit. "A woman like you who can kick the ass of everyone in this joint," he said, pausing as he swallowed, setting his bowl down and just looking at her, "and a smart woman, at that. Brilliant, even. And easily the coolest person I have ever met," he chuckled a bit, seemingly in awe of her, and she felt like she was sitting directly in the middle of a bonfire or something, the flames licking at her body. "Not to mention, funny. Warm. Compassionate...but I already said that before." He had and she didn't care. She was losing her footing fast. "And…" He took a deep breath, his features somehow getting even softer, a dreamlike look coming over his handsome face as he took her in. "...extremely beautiful," he breathed, shaking his head in awe. "And-And you can stop me anytime," he chuckled, making her duck her head, beaming, blushing, feeling how shy she probably seemed at the moment and not really minding, "with the compliments, if they're becoming, you know—"
"No," she interrupted, her own voice sounding breathless as she half-laughed to try to disguise it. "No, Chuck. That was, uh...very sweet." She lifted her eyes to his and smiled gratefully. It felt like it wasn't enough even as she said it, but she couldn't let him hear or see what his words had really meant to her.
But he pulled his lips back between his teeth and narrowed his eyes, then winced a bit. "Sweet. Golly gee. Thanks for makin' me feel like I'm eight."
She giggled, blushing again. She didn't know what else to say, how else to express herself. Genuinely, she was at a loss. So she just shrugged it off and kept smiling, distracting herself by playing with her food. "Well, you're not so bad yourself."
"Please." He gave a faux-confident shrug and joked, "I'm fantastic."
Sarah heard the tone in his voice. It was that self-deprecating humor of his, jokingly patting himself on the back. She dropped all pretenses, looked him right in his face, and said with utmost sincerity, "Yeah. You are."
She didn't break his gaze even as his teasing smile dimmed and he just gazed at her. Bulls-eye. He finished chewing and swallowed, a slow smile building on his face. That slow smile that genuinely sent an ache of longing through her. She nodded at him just once, so he knew she meant it. He'd probably be scared if he knew just how much she meant it. She was scared. She was damn scared.
Because she had to, she finally looked away and grabbed her water, taking a sip. She needed to do something as she felt that soft gaze on her. She was supposed to last an entire night with this happening? And yet, it felt so good. So natural and real.
He finally cleared his throat quietly. "What would Casey think if he walked into this restaurant right now?" he asked.
She snorted. "It would probably kill him." Then she shrugged. "Realistically, he'd have some stupid innuendo shit he'd say using condiments or something."
Chuck laughed as she picked up her tea and took a careful sip now that it had cooled enough to drink. "You know? You're probably right about that. He's unnervingly good at it."
"Don't give him that much credit, Chuck." She smirked. "Then again, someday all of this is gonna end. This operation. The Intersect. And he's going to miss having targets for his weird peanut butter and chocolate metaphors."
"He's gonna miss us in general, I think," he responded, pushing his empty bowl away from him and taking a drink.
"We all make a pretty good team. Doubt he'll ever find anything this good again," she drawled, leaning her elbows on the table again and moving a bit closer. "But that's been put off again anyway," she said. "In spite of us getting the cipher, the next Intersect almost completed, they're not letting you go just yet."
She felt the bitterness in the way she said it, she heard it dripping from each word.
"Yeah. Well." Something came over his face then. Regret? Guilt? And then she saw his brow furrow, as if in determination. And she was struck again by the way this man seemed to always make the best of whatever situation he was put into. She wanted to hug him so tight and so long that her arms fell off. "I feel like...it's important to...you know, if I can still be of use to you guys, if I can help protect innocent people, it's...my duty to do that. It's my duty to help you. I-I want to help you, Sarah."
Sarah couldn't help shaking her head in awe at him, smiling quietly. "You're really something else, Chuck. You know that? You make the best out of the worst circumstances."
"It could be a lot worse," he said as the waiter came to clear their plates and bring the check. He brought them some fortune cookies as well and she unconsciously reached out to snag one of them. "I mean, I'm sitting here with you right now. On a real date with an incredible person." She smiled at that, ducking her head a little and playing with the cookie between her fingers. "I'm all right with this."
"So am I." She felt the cookie crack between her fingers and she glanced down, surprised, but playing it off like she'd meant to break open the cookie and read her fortune, instead of what had really happened. She'd unconsciously squeezed it between her fingers as she met Chuck's gaze for too long. He was getting to her in a big way. In a bad way.
She was still his handler. The squirming she was having to do in her seat was not appropriate. Neither were most of the feelings she experienced around him, though. And it had been going on for a while, hadn't it?
Sarah pulled her fortune out and read it. It said something about how she brought light to the people in her life. Not really a fortune, was it?
"So what's it say? Something about your future? Tell you if you'll ever get out of Burbank or if you're stuck with me forever?" He leaned his elbows on the table jauntily. And she noticed he wasn't seeming like he'd be opening his own cookie.
"It's actually our next mission," she said with a straight face.
The humor in his features dropped and he gaped. "Wait. What? Really?"
"No," she said, making a face. He snorted and rolled his eyes, at her or at himself, she wasn't sure. "Not really. I...don't really know what the future is going to be. Same thing we're doing now I assume. Don't know what the other Intersect is going to bring, or how it will change things, if it even does. I haven't gotten any details."
And she realized glumly that they'd said they wouldn't bring spy stuff to this real date and here they were doing it anyway. It was a freaking plague sometimes, the spy life.
"It doesn't matter anyway. I'm still your handler, you're still my asset. I'm here to protect you until further notice. This date aside." She lifted her shoulders and gazed at him.
"This date aside? Are you not protecting me right now? Am I in danger?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Haaa," she drawled sarcastically. He grinned, his nose wrinkling. They'd somehow ended up leaning even closer, though she didn't really notice. "I'm definitely not supposed to be here, doing this. Especially not anything...real."
"But this is real."
She paused, squirming a little, but still looking at him. "Yeah."
"We're real. Alive. Here."
"Yes to all three things," she said slowly, her voice crackling. "But that doesn't change the fact that I could get into some trouble agreeing to this tonight. If they found out." But she wasn't budging. And he had to know that. She could see it in his face.
"What kind o' trouble are we talkin' here?"
"They could take me off of this mission altogether. Give me a new cover and most likely send me as far away from here as possible." She felt a pain stab through her chest at the thought of that happening. The stakes were high with this date, and she probably should've put more thought into agreeing to come out with him tonight. But God, she wanted this so bad it hurt.
She missed the look on his face as she played with a shard of the fortune cookie, not wanting him to see the abject sadness that suddenly arose in her. "What if they didn't?" he asked in a quiet, deep voice.
Sarah looked at him again. "Chuck, a CIA officer doesn't get to choose. Especially when she gets in trouble for being compromised by her asset."
"Does this count as you being compromised?" he asked, his voice still deep. It had been way too long since a man had spoken to her like this, and yet this had a lot more power than anything she could recall from before Chuck Bartowski.
"Yes," she said immediately. And she realized belatedly how that sounded, so she added, "To them."
Chuck swallowed, and this time she did notice how much closer he was leaning, they were both leaning. "I see. Y-You know, I've still got quite a bit to offer you." She felt a twinge behind her bellybutton. "The CIA, NSA." Thank God he'd clarified, but her body was having a hard time moving on from that first part. "I've got a lot of secrets still lodged in my head. The Lindberg baby...the formula for new coke..."
They were very close now, inches away. But she wasn't moving, either closer or further away. "Yeah? Well...that's why I'm here, isn't it? To protect those secrets...you."
She noticed acutely how his tongue snuck out to wet his lips before disappearing again. Oh, damn it.
"And...if that barrier was removed?" She raised an eyebrow slowly. "If you weren't my handler anymore? Would they still consider this...you...compromised?"
"I don't know." She couldn't breathe. "I...guess not. Maybe not." She paused. "What are you getting at, Chuck?" Sarah was aware of the way her eyes kept dropping to his lips. He had to see it, he had to know, because he was doing the same thing to hers. She could feel it. It was going to happen. They were going to do this, seriously. She should stop it. She had to stop it.
"Something I've been wanting, Sarah...for a long time."
This was it. She was going to do it. She was going to lean in and kiss him. Her muscles twitched to do it. To lean forward, just a few inches…
But then she saw something overcome him, a reluctance and frustration that cascaded over his features. And he brought his hands up to cover his forehead for a second, dragging them over his face and planting his palms on the tabletop.
Sarah froze. "What? What is it, Chuck? Did you—" She leaned in. "Did you flash?"
"No," he muttered, miserably. Well, if he didn't flash… Why? Why hadn't he gone through with it? Why hadn't he kissed her when they were both so clearly ready for it in that moment? Why'd he burst the bubble they were in, damn it?
"Sarah, I need to tell you something. I need you to know about something I've done."
What?
"Something...you've done?"
"I made a choice. And I need you to know about it before we…" He huffed. "I mean before anything else happens. I need you in on this. I've...needed you in on this, and the opportunity just never… I should've. I just didn't. Couldn't. I didn't want to… I don't know."
She felt the need that had been coursing through her dissipate suddenly, and it was replaced by an unpleasant tingling in her nerve-endings instead. "What are you talking about? What choice?"
A steely look came over him, one of resolve, determination. It was harder than anything she'd ever seen on his face before. It made her unsettled. "I was given...the choice...General Beckman gave me a choice, Sarah. She asked me to join the NSA, to let them train me, bring me into the fold. ...I accepted."
The chair she sat on felt like it had been yanked out from under her and she was falling.
Falling.
With no ground in sight.
A/N: PPPPHHHEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW (tips over) ... That is a literal note from our google doc where we write and I don't know which of us wrote it but it felt appropriate to just paste it here. -SC
Send us reviews. Next chapter coming soon. Thanks for reading!
-SC and DC
