Chapter 3:

Sarah sat at the table, file after file covering the wood surface—the most recent one of which sat open underneath her hand.

Damn it, she was supposed to finish this report over an hour ago, but all she could do was stare at the blank lined paper. She gripped the pen a little tighter in her hand, resolving to start and finish at least a sentence. But from the moment she considered what she was about to say, her hand began to shake.

This was the end. Writing this report, her last report, would sever all ties and obligations to her asset. Not asset, she corrected mentally. Not really. It wouldn't be fair to him to say that the last five years had been just work for her.

God, why is this so hard? She threw the pen down and buried her face in her hands. She hadn't been able to sleep for days. His smile, those warm brown eyes; they haunted her. She had been foolish to think that she could relax after the operation. The days he spent unconscious had been unbearable. The thought of losing him had nearly killed her.

And then he'd listened to pleas and returned to her.

When he first woke up, her greatest fear was that the operation had failed. Then he looked at her with those eyes and she knew in an instant that it was over. When they didn't warm at the sight of her or flicker with any hint of recognition, she knew she had been afraid of the wrong thing. The realization that every moment between them, every word spoken, every kiss shared, was somehow erased; she hadn't prepared herself for that kind of pain. She was grateful to have shed only a few tears and not fallen apart at his bedside.

Then when he asked her who she was, she froze. She knew her response would affect her for the rest of her life. She'd been asked to make some difficult judgment calls in her time at the agency, but nothing like this. This was like choosing between death by different kinds of torture.

Sarah took a deep breath and picked up the file again. A headshot of Chuck was paper-clipped to the corner. She remembered taking the picture a year ago. He had asked if he should make a sign with his name and ID number to hold up; 'make it look more authentic' had been his reasoning. She had frowned of course and told him to look natural, to which he responded 'natural like this?' mimicking Casey's mirthless expression with surprising authenticity 'or this?' and flashing his mega-watt smile. She had taken the photo in the middle, so while his eyes were full of life his lips only revealed a fraction of the smile he was capable of. She was glad of it. She didn't want to share that smile with anyone else.

When Chuck asked her the question, Sarah had almost said something else. But then she would be throwing everything away. The operation had offered her the cleanest break, the easiest exit. Chuck was safe. He could be reintroduced back to his civilian life and she could be reassigned without the fear of him waiting or worse, searching for her.

The door suddenly opened and Sarah threw the file down on the table, causing loose sheets to fly. She grabbed the pen in her hand but the empty page betrayed her.

Casey missed nothing. He smirked and closed the door behind him. "Still not done with that report, Walker?" he asked.

Sarah stared down at the paper. She swore wearing the doctor's coat made Casey even more smug than usual.

"I'm working on it," she said, knowing she was being short with him.

Much to her disappointment, Casey took a seat opposite her. "He'll be discharged soon. They've arranged the plane tickets and everything."

Sarah nodded, feeling her entire body tense up.

"They've fed him a pretty good story. He thinks he was on a business trip, slipped on the ice and took a nasty fall."

Sarah took a deep breath. Casey was waiting for her to say something, but her throat had already closed up. Good, this is all very good, she repeated to herself. Everything was going as planned.

"He's called his sister. She'll be picking him up at the airport."

Sarah was supposed to return with him. That's what they'd planned; the start of the rest of their lives together.

Stop it! she yelled. She had always been so good at being objective, seeing things through, getting the big picture. Focus!

Casey folded his hands on the table. "Look, Walker…"

Oh God. She was going to be lectured by Casey of all people.

"The operation was a success. He doesn't remember anything to do with the Intersect." He stared at her, willing her to look up but Sarah couldn't. All she could do was stare at the picture of Chuck in front of her, her Chuck.

"I know," she said. "But sometimes it's hard to say goodbye."

She looked up at Casey, ready to face the firing squad. He surprised her though by looking anything but smug.

"Yeah."

_

Six hours later, the report was finished and the files put away. Sarah packed her things, tossing her clothes carelessly into the lone suitcase. It was hard to imagine that she had lived out of it for the past two weeks. Not since the day they came together had she been able to separate the periods of watchful waiting into separate distinctive days.

Sarah was just about to slip her phone into her carry-on bag when she caught the background display. It made her pause and she stood staring at the picture, trying to remember everything about that evening.

They had been at a restaurant celebrating Devon and Ellie's first year anniversary. He was wearing a green striped shirt underneath his suit, she was wearing a dark green dress; they hadn't even intended to match one another. Just a coincidence, she told herself, nothing more.

He was telling her a funny story and she gave him her whole attention, like there was no one else in the room but him. And then, just before he could tell her the punch line, she heard a distinct click.

"You guys look so cute together," Ellie said, smiling broadly at them. She handed the phone back to her. Sarah blushed. She had let her guard down, as she did more and more frequently when she was around Chuck. It alarmed her that she would fail to notice something so obvious. What else had she failed to notice?

Sarah snapped out of it. She had betrayed herself by revealing so much of her emotions but the look on her face. She stared at the picture one last time. Sarah wouldn't have believed it if she didn't see it with her own eyes. It was the look of a woman in love.

Her thumb moved deftly across the screen, and within seconds the picture was gone forever. Just like every other memory of their time together.

One more day, and then this will all be over. She knew she was only lying to herself, and not very successfully at that.

Sarah left her small rest space and walked out into the hall. Tomorrow the facility would be dismantled, and by evening it would be nothing more than an unused office building.

Even that thought filled her with melancholy.

Without realizing it, Sarah's feet led her to Chuck's room. She stood at the threshold like an idiot, debating with herself whether or not she should see him one last time. Objectively, there was no reason to. But…but…

She tread carefully into the room, trying not to make any noise. There was still time for her to reconsider. Still time to run away. She held her breath as she took a fold of the curtain and pulled back.

Chuck was asleep. The IV's had been removed, the machines turned off and pushed to the corner. He looked no different than if he were sleeping in his own bed.

She let out a sigh of relief.

There. You've seen him. Now turn back and leave. There was still time, he would never have to know. Sarah took a step back, fighting with her body every inch of the way. Leave! Go!

Chuck rustled in his sleep and she froze. He turned his head to face her, but his eyes remained closed. He looked so peaceful.

Sarah couldn't help herself. She walked back to his bedside and pulled the blanket over his arms, tucking him in. She could feel his warmth underneath the blanket, could almost remember the way it felt to sleep wrapped in those arms.

Her hands lingered over the blanket even after she had smoothed the same place over and over.

"Chuck," she heard herself whisper. Her hands reached up to those perfect brown curls and she had to fight with herself not to wrap her fingers around them.

One kiss…just one last kiss…she begged with herself. She already knew the answer. The agent in her disapproved. The agent in her was still reprimanding her for everything that had happened in the last five years.

Fine. One kiss, and then you leave. That was the deal.

"Okay," she said aloud and nodded with conviction. One kiss, and then never again.

She pushed back her tears. There would be plenty of days for them, but not now, not in this last moment. Sarah leaned forwards, putting to memory this very sight of him. She wanted to remember every freckle, every wrinkle, knowing it would be the last she saw of him.

She leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his temple, afraid a kiss on the lips was asking for too much.

"Sarah?"

Sarah jumped back, blood draining so quickly from her head she felt faint.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed, trying to control the pitch of her voice to little avail. She flushed with embarrassment. She was one of the agency's best and she couldn't even sense him waking.

Chuck sat up in bed, casting a suspicious look at her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to fall back into her role. "I came in to check on you. I was just making sure the bandage was secure."

Chuck absent-mindedly brushed his hand over the incision along his hairline. His wariness faded but Sarah could tell he didn't fully believe her.

"Thank you," he said, staring at her with those big brown eyes.

Oh Chuck, if only you knew. Sarah felt tears suddenly rise to her eyes again. Why was she such a mess? When had having a handle on her emotions become so difficult?

"I'm sorry."

Sarah shook her head. "For what?" she asked.

"For making you so upset. I'm sorry I can't remember anything."

She looked at him in disbelief. Even now he was still putting her needs before his own.

"Oh Chuck," she whispered. If only he knew the truth. He would hate her.

An awkward pause descended upon the room and Sarah knew she should leave.

"Try to get some sleep, Chuck. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow." With great reluctance she turned around and parted the curtain.

"Sarah?"

She couldn't help herself. Sarah turned, holding her breath. She looked expectantly at Chuck, a small part of her wishing he had remembered something. Anything.

"Yeah, Chuck?"

He wrinkled his brows. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Sarah held her breath. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "It's stupid, I know," he said, laughing shyly. "But I just feel like we've met before. Before this I mean…because obviously we know each other now…and you obviously knew me while I was knocked out…before I really knew you…"

She smiled. He had a habit of rambling when he was nervous.

"So…have we?"

Sarah stirred from her thoughts only to realize he was now staring at her. "Have we what?" she repeated.

"Met. Before the accident."

The woman clamped down on her mouth before she could blurt something without thinking. Not this again. Don't make me do this again.

Sarah looked down at her feet trying to collect herself, and then raised her eyes to look him straight. She had to, if she was going to sell it. "No, I'm afraid not," she said, struggling not to let the tremors that coursed through her body affect her.

Chuck didn't look too disappointed. He smiled at her, his eyes bright with amusement. "I didn't think so," he said. "You would be impossible to forget."

Sarah laughed a little, knowing he was just being nice and that it was just a joke, but the irony of his words cut her like a knife.