A/N: Oops guys, I got so caught up reading other people's stories i forgot i had one of my own. Here's another light-hearted chapter.

Chapter 12:

Jill had barely caught her breath when the containment room doors burst open. When she saw who it was, her head fell back against the pillow and she stared stoically up at the ceiling, refusing to meet the woman's eyes.

Camille's hips swayed seductively as she sauntered over to Jill's bedside, on stiletto heels no less. She crossed her arms and looked down at the patient, her grin growing wider by the second.

"Still alive?" Camille taunted, a row of sharp canines peeking through blood-red lips. Her eyes made a quick assessment of Jill's current state and once satisfied, she dismissed the medical team with a wave.

Jill winced as the doctor rushed to finish the IV line insertion. Another hastily covered a thick piece of gauze over the fast-growing bruise on her sternum, pressing hard enough to evoke a sharp hiss of pain.

"You're lucky you can feel that," Camille said, her smile tinged with cruelty. "It could have been a headshot."

Jill's eyes darted to the discarded vest lying on the table. She had wasted an entire morning debating whether or not to put it on. A prudent agent would have worn a thicker vest, but her assignment had been too easy.

Bring in Chuck. Bring in a man who had no recollection of her affiliations. A man who once—and could still, love her. Tempting Murphy's Law, she had asked herself, what could possibly go wrong?

"It was a simple assignment," Camille said, almost a reprimand.

Jill narrowed her eyes. No one could have foreseen the chaos that ensued.

"If it was so simple why did you need me?" she asked. When Camille only grunted, Jill managed a weak smile. The unshakable perfectionist had failed while she had succeeded. That must be a difficult pill to swallow.

"You deviated from the plan," Camille accused, refusing to acknowledge Jill's improvisation. "What you did was stupid."

Jill smirked. "If I didn't know better, Camille, you might actually care for my wellbeing." The woman's dark eyes reminded her that it could not be the case. Still, she had expected Camille to appreciate her cleverness. Wearing light armor was stupid, but concealing a unit of blood inbetween the layers? Certainly not. Though it hurt every time she took a breath, Jill knew she had won one of the biggest gambles of her life.

"She could have killed you. You could have lost the subject."

Jill shook her head. The second Sarah had pulled the trigger; she knew she had won. Even if she died, she would have taken Chuck with her. He would never trust Sarah again.

Or would he? Convincing him had proven more difficult than she would like to admit. Up until Sarah's intrusion, Jill still felt like he had his feet planted firmly on the other side of the fence.

You have her to thank then. Jill narrowed her eyes. It was an annoying thought.

"Did you hear me?" Camille prompted. "You could have botched the entire mission."

"But I didn't." Jill stared up at Camille with a certain ounce of defiance. On paper, today would read as a complete success.

Camille lowered her eyes. "No. You did well," the woman finally conceded. "It should be easy to win him over now. They did all the hard work for us, wiping his memories."

And if he doesn't cooperate? What then?

Jill's smile fell. Her chest ached and it had nothing to do with her injury. She could deny to Camille all she wanted, but she could not lie to herself. She had miscalculated Chuck. Her powers of persuasion had waned considerably over the years, and she could see that it would still be a fight to convince him of anything at all.

Jill never imagined Chuck would feel so strongly towards the blond. Strong enough to marry her in fact; amnesia notwithstanding. And when she thought how it could have been her life with Chuck, her past wiped clean, her in the white dress and the house behind the picket fence…it only made chest hurt all the more.

Jill looked pleadingly into the woman's eyes, knowing she was in no position to bargain. "Promise me you won't hurt him." Camille frowned and Jill forced herself to sit up despite every part of her body telling her not to. "He's just a civilian. He's harmless," she reminded. Even more harmless now that he knew absolutely nothing.

Camille smiled cryptically, and like any code, it was impossible to know the true meaning behind it.

"If he does everything we ask; there's no reason to." A pause. "You'll make sure of that, won't you?"

It was so like Camille to hand over the dice and force her to roll. Never one to dirty her manicured hands, Jill understood the woman's intentions all too well. She lowered her eyes and sank back into the bed.

"Of course," she said, for her sake, and for Chuck's.

_

Jill was drifting in and out of sleep when she heard the door buzz and the lock release. She groaned and glanced sideways to see who it was now.

"Chuck?" she rasped, her mouth feeling as swollen and dry as a ball of cotton.

In the dim light, she couldn't be sure.

"Chuck?" she whispered again, a little louder this time.

For a moment she thought she was walking into a dream. During her years in captivity, imagining moments with Chuck had been a mind exercise of sorts, a reprieve from the harsh reality.

Now she wondered if she had perfected the skill. He looked so real, almost as if he were really here.

"Hey…" His gentle voice sent shudders through her spine.

She smiled weakly up at him. "It is you," she murmured. As she moved her hand, the line in her arm tugged and she was reminded of the events leading up to her current state.

This was real. Chuck was real.

Jill blinked slowly. Whatever the doctors had put in the bag, it left her drained and disoriented.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, his eyes downcast with worry. "You were in surgery."

Was I? Surgery for what—it's only a bruise—

She stopped herself before she said anything. Chuck thought the wound was real.

She could not believe she nearly revealed that. Jill shook her head, fighting valiantly against the drugs. Camille was a fool for thinking she couldn't be convincing enough lying prone in bed.

"Thank you for holding on," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. He smiled but it was only a fraction of the kind of smile she remembered.

"I did it for you," she whispered. The beatings, the threats, the drugs…she had endured them all for him. For this second chance.

"You're safe now," she soothed.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah," he said. She'd never heard him sound so lifeless before. He looked away but there was no hiding the tears in his eyes.

"Then why are you still so sad?" Jill sighed as she felt his fingers drift from hers. She longed for the warm touch of his skin and wondered when she would have it again.

"If you really don't remember anything, then why is this so hard to believe?" Jill's chest began to ache again but she refused to believe it could be anything but the injury. "Why, Chuck?"

He had no response for her, but his shoulders sagged at the unspoken accusation.

Jill implored him silently to look up at her, to answer her, but he wouldn't. She couldn't help it. Her frustrations began to mount; how could he still have so much faith in her?

"How could you remember Sarah and forget about us?"

Jill realized this was the wrong thing to say. Chuck winced and tell-tale tears began to fall onto the edge of the sheets.

"Chuck?"

The man sniffed back his tears, and then self-consciously cleared his throat. "I didn't forget," he whispered, and finally looked at her again. It was a blank stare, but at this point, Jill was willing to settle for anything.

His words carried more meaning than his eyes. It fed new life into the dim embers of her heart, and she felt so happy it hurt to breathe.

With those three words he had given her all the hope she needed to see the plan through.

"We need your help, Chuck," she said. "Sarah was rogue, just like Bryce. She and several others infiltrated deep inside the agency's network. We've tried to undo some of the damage but we caught on too late."

Chuck swallowed, his face twisting with pain. Jill sucked in a deep breath, wishing she could take back the words.

Damn these drugs. She couldn't think straight.

"Please, Chuck," she whimpered, hitting him at his Achilles' Heel. She saw him hesitate for only a second but it was all she needed. "They were going to use you," she reminded. "We need your help to work against them."

Chuck closed his eyes. Sarah was out of the picture but it wasn't enough. Jill could see she was doing the opposite of what she wanted. The more she mentioned that woman, the more he distanced himself. If Chuck were a burn victim then she was the madwoman running at him with a torch.

Jill gritted her teeth. It was the only way she knew how to play the game. The only way she wanted to play. She was not going to do that woman any favors by singing her praises.

"Don't you see?" she asked, her own dislike for the woman beginning to multiply with each second of Chuck's hesitation. "They've been playing you this whole time. The both of them."

Jill held her breath and waited. It was a necessary evil but she was sorry for it. When she saw the terrible hurt in his eyes, she felt as if she had just slapped him and the sight brought a sharp pang to her chest.

"Don't feel bad, Chuck. She was with him long before she knew you," she soothed, knowing that sometimes a pinch of niceness had the same effect as a dollop of cruelty. "They're well-matched. You can see it, can't you?"

Chuck turned abruptly so that his back was to her. Jill bit her lip. She was so used to playing hardball, but she could see now that he needed to be handled with care. Chuck had always been a sensitive soul.

Enough of this. She wanted to comfort him, to hold him the way he had held her.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said, real tears spilling down her cheeks. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She let out a small sigh of relief. The truth was always easier to tell than the lies.

Chuck sighed too. After a lengthy silence, he turned back to face her, his eyes dark with determination.

"What do you need me to do?"

Reviews are always appreciated. This was even more light-hearted than the last, wouldn't you agree?