The Model Agent

By SarahsSupplyCloset

Author's Note: I know folks mean well but someone actually came into my private messages to offer "advice" on my writing because I'm "having a hard time" progressing the plot, and I could use some "help with pacing". I wasn't going to call him out, and then I was like "Actually..." Because don't do that. Frankly, if you have 0 stories of your own posted here, and you have the gall to offer ME advice? I wish I had even a tiny % of the confidence you have, dude. I'd take over the world with it. I hope you're embarrassed. I have a job, I'm not on here as a stepping stone into publishing original work. I dgaf about that. I'm just having fun. Get out of my PMs if you're offering "writing advice". Stranger danger! Damn.

Anyway, enjoy these 9000plus words containing Chuck and Sarah lying around, having sex, and not progressing the plot forward!

Summary: Sarah Walker's modeling career is in its budding stages when the CIA recruits her into their ranks at 16. 10 years later, she's balancing being a world famous supermodel and actress with spying for the CIA. Her existence is fraught with danger and she's constantly on the go, until she meets a disarmingly sincere man on the beach...and her life is changed forever.

Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I am not making any money writing this story.

He couldn't feel his left arm, or his right leg. And there was a weight on him. A warm weight.

Chuck Bartowski was only confused for a moment as he woke up, though, and he didn't even have to open his eyes to know where he was, or what—rather WHO—the weight was on him. Because he shifted his right hand and felt her warmth against the pads of his fingers, following the hard swoop of her muscle stretched over bone.

She sighed in her sleep, her breath warm against his neck, and her hair was tickling his collarbone but he did his best to ignore it, not wanting to disturb her, wake her up.

So he kept his eyes shut against the onslaught of the sunlight coming in through the window. He hadn't shut the curtains because he didn't normally sleep in the living room but he sort of wished he'd thought of it before they fell asleep together on the couch.

There was a bright strip of red light falling across his vision, his eyelids only able to do so much to protect his eyes.

His arm was smashed between her hip and the back of the couch, he realized, and that was why it was asleep. And his right leg? He carefully stretched it out to the side and winced. It had fallen over the side of the couch and was draped down onto the wood floors limply. Ouch. The tingles were insane.

His arm would just have to be numb for a little while longer though because he didn't want to wake Sarah Walker up. It was a kindness thing, but he had to admit part of it was selfishness. Something told him that in spite of keeping her promise she made him earlier on in the morning before they fell asleep, about being here when he woke up, once she was awake, she would put her clothes back on and leave.

He wouldn't stop her. She was even more busy than he was, and that was truly saying something. But he would miss her. And who knew when he'd get to see her again?

Like she said, it would be a part of this. And he would have to find ways to be okay with it. He'd have to find ways to cope with this sometimes feeling like a long-distance relationship. On top of it being a secret relationship he couldn't even talk about with Morgan or Ellie. That would be the hardest part.

But he would do it.

He understood her reticence. For now, they could just be, without the 5 million lenses pointed at them. It was like the no Googling pact he'd made with her, right? But a little more intense, that was all. They would learn about one another, just the two of them together, no one else involved. No search engines, no tabloids digging into their lives.

And in spite of understanding, he wanted to walk out of here with her hand clasped in his, dash into a coffee shop, get some coffee whatever time it was, maybe some food, sit in a corner and talk over a torte and a few cups. Maybe somebody might come up and ask for an autograph and it'd be fine. He could share her. Right?

Eventually.

That was the other thing that made him agree with her 100% about this secret thing. The sharing part. Because he could SAY he was okay sharing her with the autographs and pictures people would want if they went out into public together. He could SAY it. But the truth was he didn't want to share her with anyone. He wanted this right here. Just them, cuddled up on his couch, wrapped up together.

He wanted her attention on him, her full attention. Maybe it was the wrong way to feel about this, he wasn't sure. But this was so new, and he was so taken with her.

Maybe that crap he'd said while they were sitting on the counter was a little weird. About her being some kind of lioness.

But she was such an enigma wrapped up in an enigma. And it wasn't like some crappy manic pixie dream girl trope was going on here where he just wanted to solve this mystery that was Sarah Walker and settle her down or whatever. He simply just wanted to be around her. Her—exactly the way she was.

Because she emanated some kind of power that he'd never felt from anyone ever before. It wasn't just a strength of character, and it wasn't just a physical thing, though she did have a powerful Amazonian warrior sort of silhouette to her if he did say so himself, which is probably what made her the perfect choice for action adventure flicks with a female lead. There was something inside of her and he didn't know what it was. But he was so drawn to it, drawn to her.

He didn't even need to know what it was. He just wanted her near him.

All the freaking time.

It wasn't lioness power, it was beautifully human. She was beautifully human. The most beautiful human he'd ever seen in his life. And he'd seen beauty, both human and in the natural world.

Sarah sighed again, shifting her body so that it was more on top of him. The weight on his chest and midsection increased, but she relinquished his arm from where it had been trapped, allowing him to flex his fingers and bend his arm at the elbow to try to get the blood back into it.

But she didn't wake up even as her arms tightened around him, and her hips had lined up with his, their fronts pressed together in a way that made him finally snap his eyes open and tense. Why why why why why was his body betraying him like this? He felt it now that she was pressed snug against him down there. He'd hardened in his sleep, damn it.

He'd had no say in this.

And he was sure the moment she woke up, she would feel it, there, pressed against her. Would she make assumptions about him? Bad ones? Crap, he needed to get himself out from under her and take a cold shower or something maybe.

But could he do that without waking her up? If she woke up, she would feel him, she would make assumptions, and she would DEFINITELY leave then.

And then he took some deep, calming breaths, inwardly telling himself to calm the hell down. He was overreacting. She was a grown woman, they were having sex, they were seeing each other. That was the best way he could think of to describe this without perhaps giving it a label she wasn't ready to give it.

He was both trying to enjoy the hell out of this and not allow himself to hope too hard. It was just like his family always said, when he fell for a girl, there was no saving him. And when said girl peeled herself away from him, it ended with him in a deep depression.

It was his lot in life.

He was cursed.

So they were just seeing each other.

And he wasn't going to dwell too hard on it.

Nor was he going to dwell too hard on the discomfort he felt at her being pressed so tightly against his member that was somehow even harder than it had been before.

Because it wasn't discomfort. It felt incredibly good. And that was the problem.

She had to be aware of this biological thing that happened to men sometimes while they were asleep, right? She wouldn't judge him.

Just in case though…

He braced his foot against the floor and oh so slowly eased himself to the right, using his grip on her body to try to carefully shift her off of him as he scooted. But as he did that, he felt her arms tighten around him. And he froze.

Sarah's long fingers spread out against his back and dug into his muscles, and he heard her take a breath, her chest rising and falling against his. And his stupid body. It was reacting to the sensation of her nipples trapped like hard pebbles against his chest with nothing but two of his own thin shirts—the one he wore and the one she wore—between them. If she was awake, and he was pretty sure she was awake, she was definitely feeling him against her. Alert was the least crude way he could think to describe what was going on down there. He was VERY awake.

She sighed then, emitting a quiet hum that crackled deliciously with sleep. That definitely didn't help his…alertness.

"Where you going?" she mumbled with that same crackle, her lips pressed to his collarbone in a way that also wasn't helping. Such soft lips. Warm.

He subtly took a deep breath, but he knew that whatever he did, she'd feel it, she was lying DIRECTLY on top of him, every inch of their bodies lined up perfectly.

Chuck didn't answer, because he didn't know how. He hadn't expected her to be awake. (Though it had to be said, she wasn't as awake as he was.)

And then she shifted on top of him, tilting her head so that her chin was propped on his chest, and two impossibly blue eyes blinked up at him, mischief in them. He saw the mischief plainly and he had a feeling she was letting him see it on purpose.

She gave him the feeling he didn't see anything where she was concerned unless she let him see it. He'd wondered why a handful of times since he met her and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get an answer, but her career had to have something to do with it. Being pursued by paparazzi and fans and everything shining spotlights on her, her life, her behavior, whether it was good or bad.

"You were sneaking away from me," she said then, one side of her mouth tilting up slowly. It was hot. He was in trouble. None of this was helping him get rid of his erection.

"No, I…wasn't."

Idiot. He absolutely was and they both knew it. He winced at the flat look she gave him.

"Okay, I was. I…um, bathroom. I gotta pee. Yeah." That wasn't convincing at all and he wished he'd come up with it 5 minutes ago because then he might've been more convincing. But that was stupid too because where she was a wall of secrecy and keeping things inside, everything shone in his face, came through in his voice. He sucked at poker for this reason. He sighed, then groaned, resigned as he let his head thump back against the couch. They were on the same page and he knew it when she lightly bumped her front against his, her adorable sleepy smirk widening. "You know why," he said.

She gave him an innocent look. "No I don't."

He half groaned half chuckled. "Oh, come on. Now you're just being mean." She grinned and winked. "I'm sorry," he said then, sincerely. "I-I don't really have any control over…that. Erm, what I mean is, I just woke up and it was…I was already…so yeah. But I'm gonna take a cold shower and we'll be good."

Sarah's grin lessened into a small, genuine smile, her eyes sparkling, fully awake now. And then she scooted down just slightly so that his hardness was really pinned between them. He tensed and made an o with his mouth, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "You don't have to apologize to me for something you can't even control, Chuck."

She let go of him and braced her hands on the couch cushions on either side of him, angling her chest away from his. But that only served to press more of her weight down against his erection. He took a calming breath, his eyelids fluttering. This was purposeful now and he had a feeling he was going to enjoy the outcome. When she got to it. He suspected she was having fun getting to it. And he was going to let her have fun. He would let her dictate this.

"And I'm not so ignorant of the ways of the human body, nor am I THAT narcissistic as to think that what I'm feeling down there right now is even about me. It happens to a lot of guys when they wake up, right? Nothing to be ashamed of. You don't have to sneak away," she giggled. "Cute that you tried, though. You're very sweet, Chuck, you know that?" She readjusted her palms against the couch which caused her to move against his hardness in a way that leant even more excitement to this particular position she'd put them in. "Sorry. Didn't mean to do that," she said, wrinkling her nose apologetically.

He wasn't sure if she was teasing him with that or not, but he smiled up at her and shook his head. "S'okay. And, um, if you don't mind me saying so, this time it…might be…a little bit about you." He wrinkled his nose back at her and tilted his head. "Just to be perfectly candid with you."

Sarah raised her eyebrows, and this time, when she gave a slow, languid thrust, it was absolutely on purpose. His breath caught in his chest and he bit back a whimper. "Most honest person I've ever met, you are."

"Yeah. Sometimes it's a curse."

"Not this time," she said immediately, shaking her head. And she thrusted down against him again, slowly dragging herself up and down his hardness. She bit her lip, her eyelids heavy, and she kept going.

"Oh, Sarah," he whispered, sliding his hand around her hip as she thrusted on top of him. He felt her against him, every last bit of her touching him down there, with just the thin cotton of their underthings keeping him from really feeling her. "Sarah, you don't…" He whimpered as she gave a particularly hard thrust. "You don't have to. Just because I…woke up with this." He let out a rough breath and shook his head. "I don't expect…it. Oh my God." He bit his lip, trying to resist the pleasure.

She stopped, the almost haze over her stunning face leaving it for a moment as she looked down at him. "You're serious, aren't you? Like, you sincerely aren't expecting anything from me."

The shower he took would have to be as cold as the fucking Arctic at this point, but he nodded anyway. "There are things I can do to get rid of this, Sarah, and it wouldn't be the first time." She raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit salaciously. He realized how that sounded. "No, not—I mean, cold…really, really cold shower. The coldest shower ever."

He wasn't touching what she insinuated with that look of hers with a 40 foot pole. And yet, he knew she was pretty sure he had. And he knew he had. And that was just the way it went sometimes when you were too busy to date and the need was there.

He shook his head hard. "Cold shower. In fact, I-I think I'll just…do that now if that's…"

But she resisted his attempt to scoot out from under her, moving her hands to his shoulders. There was a sincerity in her face then as she looked down at him, just watching him quietly. "I'd prefer you not do the cold shower thing, actually." She bit her lip shyly. "Unless that's what you wanna do now that I've teased you so much. That'd be exactly what I deserve." She winced, smiling. And then she slid a hand up to the crook of his neck, rubbing him there in a way that made him practically melt into the couch with a quiet moan. "I guess I just expect guys to…expect things. Because they always do." He stared at her, frowning at the implications that went unsaid. "And here you are, genuinely not expecting a thing. Even with last night happening. What KEEPS happening. You seriously are more than okay with getting up from this couch and taking a cold shower."

Chuck blinked. "Yeah."

She let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head, grinning down at him. "I'm going to ask you a question and I want full honesty. Not whatever you think is the Good Guy—TradeMark—thing to say, but complete honesty. The truth."

He swallowed hard and nodded. None of this had eased the tight feeling he had down there. And she was still pressed close against him, a pressure on him that wasn't relenting.

"Do you really want to take a shower right now? …or…" She shifted so that her full weight pressed down into him. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," he rushed out, nodding.

She gave him an amused look, pressing her lips together. "Which one?"

"Oh. Oh, right. That wasn't a yes or no. Um. The second one."

Rocking herself into him, she raised an eyebrow. "This?"

"Yes. Please."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she mumbled, leaning down to lightly stroke her lips over his. "You're not just saying it because you're very perceptive and know that's what I want to hear?"

He laughed, tilting his head back and giving her ample opportunity to latch her lips onto his chin. And then she dotted kisses down his neck too, oh God. "Oh Sarah… You are so good at this whole teasing thing, but since we're doing honesty stuff right now, I think we both know I wasn't just saying it because I know it's what you want to hear."

She laughed against his throat, and then her tongue flicked out to taste him. He just barely bit back a groan. "Well, message received. Loud and clear."

And Sarah thrusted down against him, long and hard, making the groan actually come out from between his lips. He couldn't stop it this time.

"But a-are you sure it's… You aren't just doing it because…? I mean you want this…?" he couldn't help asking. He slid a hand down to her hip and squeezed.

Sarah moved to line her face up with his, shifting her elbows to lean on the couch cushion and cupping his jaw in both hands to get his attention. She had it. She'd had it from the moment he looked up at her from where he splayed out over the packed wet sand, sputtering, his shoulder hurting.

"I've never wanted anything more," she said in a heated tone. "Now can we both shut up and do this?"

This time Chuck received the message loud and clear. He didn't say anything else. Any hesitancy or unsureness he'd had was gone. The need to get up, sneak to the shower, and try to do away with the evidence that he'd woken up with a hard-on was gone too.

And all there was was the woman above him, grinding her hips into him, still cupping his face, her eyes gazing into his.

Something in him snapped, and he grabbed her, lunging up to kiss her under her jaw, wherever his lips made contact first, tasting her, feeling her. And Sarah sighed, throwing her head back.

He had one goal suddenly, and his fingers moved down to accomplish it, tucking into the waistband of his boxers she wore and pushing them down. Even with how she'd rolled them to keep them up on her much slimmer hips, they slid off of her so easily.

Her hands were still on his face as she giggled and leaned down to cover his mouth with hers, her tongue pushing between his lips hungrily. He met her tongue with his own, groaning, stroking his fingers over the smooth skin of her bare ass. She shivered above him, sighing, even as she French kissed him, and he swallowed up her sigh, moving his hands to his own boxers.

She let him do it all himself and he was perfectly fine with that, shoving at the cotton underpants. They got caught on him and it was a little embarrassing how long it took for him to get them down past his hardness, but the moment he got them to his knees, one of Sarah's hands left his face.

And Chuck felt her push that hand between their bodies to curl around him. He groaned, a fantastic chill going through him.

Distantly, he thought he heard some sort of rumbling sound, and he wondered if it was his heart. Or maybe Sarah Walker was some kind of sky goddess who'd come to claim him as her own and the clouds were happy with her success?

Where had the clouds even come from? He'd woken up to sunlight on his face. Had they moved in that quickly?

He was losing his mind.

With the way she was touching him, the varied pressure of her fingers around him. And then she began to pump him, twisting her fist as she did, and he threw his head back hard enough that the pillow didn't do much to soften the thunk of the back of his head knocking into the hard arm of the couch.

She stopped and pulled back from the kiss, hissing out a wince as he grunted. "You oka—?"

But he cut her off, lunging up to capture her lips again. She giggled, a low, lusty sound that sent electricity through him. And the rumble sounded again. It was outside somewhere. Probably. He didn't know. He didn't really care. As long as it wasn't either of their phones, somebody needing their time, their energy. He didn't have time or energy for anything that wasn't about this woman, right now.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whimper, "Now… Please. Please now, Sarah."

Sarah nodded eagerly, her nose knocking against his, and in moments, she'd adjusted her hips, and he was sliding into her. She was slow and methodical at first, easing her weight into his lap, hunching over him, her lips pressed into his cheek as she thrusted.

Chuck let her take full control, his fingers resting lightly on her thighs as he groaned, shutting his eyes tight and feeling, enjoying.

And then he felt an energy coming off of her, like static electricity or something, and it awoke in him some sort of desperation. A need. It was the same need he felt from her. And she began to thrust into his lap harder, faster, and she moved her hand up to grab onto the arm of the couch by his head, tilting her torso away from him.

"Chuck…" she whimpered, and he opened his eyes to look up at her. She'd shut her eyes, her face pinched with pleasure as she moved above him.

Chuck watched as her eyelids snapped back open, and her blue eyes swirling with lust looked down into his awed gaze. Clenching her jaw, she moved to sit up straight in his lap, and he felt her thigh muscles shift under his right hand as she unfolded her leg to brace her foot against the wood floor in front of the couch.

With one hand clutching the back of the couch and the other pressed against his shirt covered chest, she started to swing herself back and forth in his lap, a graceful, sweeping motion that took his breath away.

"Oh my God," he groaned, his jaw falling open. "Oh my God, Sarah!"

He dropped his own leg down then, bracing his foot against the floor, and he began to thrust himself up to meet her, moving his hands to hold onto her hips in a tight grip. As her pace became more frenetic, so did his, and they bucked against one another, not letting up.

He didn't know how long it continued. It didn't matter. His muscles cried out and he kept going, and when her flashing eyes caught his, they moved even faster, even harder against one another.

And then Sarah let go of the back of the couch finally and dropped her hand back to press against his thigh, grabbing squeezing his muscle there tight between her fingers. Her other hand twisted in his shirt he still wore and pulled it up in front of her in her grip, holding on tight. She began to jerk herself on him, her hips moving so fast he couldn't even keep up, and he lowered his ass back to the couch with a loud groan.

He twisted his own fists in the material of his shirt she was still wearing, lifting it up so that he could tilt his head and watch where their bodies met. "Sarah!" he gasped out. It felt so good he was losing any semblance of control, and he was so glad she was taking the reins. Literally with the way she was pulling at his shirt.

He was so lost in the sensations of being inside of her, what she was doing to him, that her finish seemed to come suddenly, her body tensing over his, his name on her lips as she shuddered, her hips surging against his.

Chuck grabbed at her waist, the shirt still clutched between his fingers, and he held her, supported her as he watched it all happen on her incredibly beautiful features.

She stilled for only a moment, her gaze crackling with heat as it met his, and then she let go of his leg and shirt, grappling at his shoulders and giving him a pointed yank up towards her.

He complied with Sarah's request and sat up. She immediately snagged his shirt in a tight grip and pulled it up his torso, pawing at it to get it off of him. And even as they worked together to get it off of him, she began to rock her hips into his again.

Chuck groaned, throwing his shirt onto the floor. Before he could respond, she yanked the shirt she wore off too, throwing it to join what she'd just taken off of him.

It felt right, wrapping his arms around her torso and hugging her close as they both sat on the couch like this, with her in his lap, one leg wrapped around his back and the other hanging over the edge of the couch, her heel bracing against the floor. She stopped thrusting and stayed still, hugging him back.

She buried her face in his hair and he nuzzled her under her chin with his nose, kissing her skin there and feeling her shiver. He distantly heard the rumble again, and the air seemed to buzz with something spectacular.

How long did he sit there with her, their arms wrapped around one another, joined, pressed so close the only way they could be closer would be if they were one person, he didn't know. All he knew was that it was the best moment of his life up until that point.

It was too much for him to voice, especially this soon. He got nerves just thinking it. He slid his hand up her back, his fingers feeling every last bump and valley of her spine as he went, cresting the muscles in her upper back and shoulders, rubbing the back of her neck, and twisting his fingers in her hair, pushing it back from her face, then pulling his own face away to look into her eyes.

Chuck Bartowski knew he'd never experienced anything so bristling with equal parts eroticism and intimacy as the moment when she began to gyrate against him, never once breaking his gaze.

Sarah's right arm wrapped around his shoulders the way her right leg was wrapped around his lower back, and her other hand pushed into his hair, her fingers mowing a pattern in his curls. And when she tightened her grip, still grinding in his lap, Chuck nearly tipped over the edge.

He just barely caught himself, having to let go of her with one hand and smack it down on the edge of the couch cushion they were sharing. She whimpered as he used his foot still resting flat on the floor in front of the couch to begin meeting her thrusts again.

Sarah threw her head back and moved her arm wrapped around him to grab onto his shoulder. She seemed to almost hold onto him for dear life as she started to bounce on his cock.

Chuck let out a groan that covered up yet another crash outside, just holding on and letting her have whatever the hell she wanted.

She came again, grabbing onto his shoulders in both hands and moaning, rolling her hips. He dove down to capture one of her nipples between his lips, gathering her up in his arms to pull her in even closer.

"Oh Chuck, yes," she breathed as he switched to the other nipple. He was drowning in the sensations, the way she kept repeating his name over and over, clinging to him.

He leaned her back at an angle, cradling her in his arms, moving his mouth to taste the soft skin that ran along her collarbone. He followed it down to the spot between her breasts, hearing her whimper, feeling the way her chest rose as she took in a quick, deep breath.

She sat up straight again, wrapping him up in her arms, pressing her lips to his ear. She began to ride him with a talent that was impossible to even imagine. He'd think this was a dream if he wasn't here, experiencing it, feeling her hot breath against his temple, the heat of her surrounding him. It was the way she moved, with a grace, but also a determination and need that was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

"Sarah!" He gasped out her name, hugging her close, wanting her so badly that it was flooding him, an unending heat just washing over him from head to toe.

He felt Sarah find her climax again, her body quaking, a high-pitched whimper coming from between her lips. She bit down on his ear, and he almost finished right then and there but just barely fought it off.

It passed and she began to bounce again. He groaned, letting his arms loosely rest around her lower back, just looking up into her face. Her jaw dropped, features pinched in ecstasy, and she met his eyes, letting him see how good this was making her feel. There was a flash outside, and it crashed through the room for a split second, lighting Sarah like a goddess for just as long.

And then her hands were on his chest, pushing him to lie back down, grinding into his lap with quick, shallow thrusts.

She kept her hands on his pecks, bracing herself on him, and she rode him, whipping her head back and to the side to get her hair out of her face and just going to town.

Chuck's hands fell up to rest on the cushion by his head, totally and completely defenseless. This felt better than anything ever had. There was another flash that filled the room, and a few seconds later, another rumble, and the electricity in the living room, between them especially, seeped into his limbs, into his soul, and he heard himself grind out, "Harder. Harder, Sarah… Come on."

He almost apologized, but then the look in her face told him he had absolutely nothing to apologize for. One side of her mouth was pulled into a crooked grin, awe in her face, and she reached up to grab the back of the couch, her other hand curling around his bicep, before she began to ride him hard. So much harder.

And she went hard until he found he could barely hold on. He was close, so close. And as he grabbed her hip in one hand, his other clasping onto her ass and squeezing, he felt her let go of his bicep and then her fingers slid between them and were pressing into him at the base of his manhood.

"S-Sarah! Ah!"

He came, blinking rapidly, holding onto her for dear life as the most glorious climax spilled through his entire body, a buzzing filling his head, humming in his ears. He snapped out her name again through his teeth and he felt her buck one more time in his lap before he felt her squeeze him, a breathy yelp at her lips. And she shook above him again.

They'd found climax together.

And when she plopped down onto his chest, he clung to her tightly, breathing hard, gasping for breath, shutting his eyes tight against the stars dancing across his vision.

+ —

She hazily became aware of the pleasant whoosh sounds outside of the window, a sound she knew well. Cars, cabs, buses driving through puddle filled streets.

It was raining.

She distantly heard a soft putt putt putt putt sound, a rain gutter with rain water dripping down it.

When had rain happened? She hadn't seen anything about rain in the weather reports.

Sighing, she turned her face to nuzzle his chest where it had landed after her climax had her teetering forward onto him. "It's raining," she mumbled, still sort of panting.

"Oh." His voice was gruff, and she could hear how breathless he still was too.

That had been so damn fantastic. Just brimming with intensity. It was erotic. And full-on eroticism wasn't exactly a feature of the sex she'd had before this man. It wasn't like she hadn't had good sex before, but this had an extra thrill of eroticism that she'd never experienced before she met Chuck Bartowski on the beach down from Carina's house.

It was the heady combination of deep, DEEP connection beneath the physical, maybe. The way he looked into her eyes, how he touched and cradled her, not like she needed protection, or like she was made of papier-mâché. But like something was happening to him, something he couldn't control, and he was relinquishing the control to her, handing it over, willingly. There was something extremely deep happening here.

Fathomless.

He was drowning maybe, and so was she. Oh God, so was she.

In New York, it had felt good, comforting, relaxing, and a little scary if she was honest with herself. How quickly they'd connected, how good the sex was, yes, but mostly how quickly they'd connected.

And now?

She was realizing it hadn't just been a quick connection. It had become deep, too.

A large part of her worried she'd gotten in too deep, too fast.

But right now she just wanted to listen to the thumping of his heart racing in his chest under her ear, and the comforting sound of the rain outside.

"I thought I heard thunder but I was a little…too busy to think too hard about what it might be…" he panted. "And…lightning. Jesus Christ, I can't even breathe, that was so amazing."

Sarah giggled breathlessly, hugging him with her thighs. "Y'okay?"

"GOD YES."

She jumped he said it so loud and suddenly. And then she cracked up, pushing herself up at an angle, eyes wide. "Tell me how you REALLY feel, Nerd Company Guy."

The massive grin on his face was so sweet, she couldn't stop herself from giggling again. But then he wrapped his arms around her and swung them both towards the back of the couch, pinning her under him as she squealed and barked out a laugh. He chuckled and teasingly bit her jaw, before he pushed himself up and got off of her and the couch altogether.

He tugged his boxers up and she watched them crest and then cover his ass, inwardly pouting at the loss. Then he moved over to the window and unlocked it, popping it open.

A sweet smell drifted in through the window and she scooted up to pillow her head against the arm of the couch, just watching him take a deep breath with his face pressed close to the screen.

It was the way he seemed to find enjoyment in life's smallest moments. The way his shoulders eased, his body getting looser, as he took a deep breath.

"Smell that? Jasmine."

"Jasmine?" she asked.

"Yeah. Sometimes during this time of the year, if the breeze is strong enough, or if there's a nice rain falling outside…not a drenching rain but just a nice steady rain…you can smell the jasmine from the garden over there." He pointed off to the side and looked at the garden only he could see. "It's a rooftop garden. I'm afraid I can't take you to that one though. It's private."

"Bummer." She smirked at him and took a deep breath. "I can smell the jasmine. And the rain. God, I love that smell."

"Me, too. It's comforting."

Sarah pushed herself to sit up, reaching up to snag the small blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch and standing up, wrapping it around her, too comfortable and maybe even lazy to actually put some article of clothing on. She joined him at the window, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

"It reminds me that the world is working as it always does. No matter what…" She sighed. "…fucked up thing is happening in my life, no matter what they say about me, whether I get a job I want or not, when I field yet another sexist bullshit question from yet another reporter, the world is still turning. And the rain is still falling. And it still smells…" She took a deeper sniff and sighed happily. "So good. I do love that jasmine."

"Isn't it nice?"

"You struck gold with this place."

He nodded. "I like it."

She did too, she decided. It absolutely had to cost an insane amount of money, and she imagined he didn't rent it, that he owned it outright. But even with the fortune it cost him to live in this area of the city, with this view, and this massive space, it was so comfortable and almost homey.

It felt like a home.

Lived in and real. Like he'd built a home in it, with his own tastes. He really lived here, unlike some of the spaces she'd been in that belonged to other people with lots of money. Everything strange and modern and staid and lacking personality.

This condo was flooded with personality, specifically CHUCK'S personality. And she really liked it.

She turned to glance outside and smiled, pulling the blanket tighter around her naked form. "I can't put my finger on you, Chuck," she finally said, quietly.

She felt him looking at her for a long time. "Sarah, you've put a lot more than just a finger on me."

Cracking up, she reached out to give him a shove, making him stagger back, chuckling. "You know exactly what I mean," she admonished and he nodded, his golden eyes sparkling handsomely. "You've got all this money, success, a full head of this beautiful hair," she teased, reaching up to ruffle his curls, making him giggle. It made warmth spread through her chest. "And you're also such a…" She didn't know how to finish that.

"Giant nerd?"

"No. Stop it," she laughed. "You make me feel so comfortable. I mean, being around you, I feel comfortable. And that's weird. It's rare, I'll say that. For me specifically and I think just in general. People with lots of money are usually so out of touch and hard to get along with." She snorted. "I realize I need to look in the mirror. I also have lots of money, but…you know what I mean." She winced then, peeking up at him through her eyelashes. "Right?"

He smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall next to the window. It did nice things to his shoulders. And his biceps, actually. "No, I get what you're saying. Uber rich dudes are usually total pricks."

She winced. "I wasn't going to say it like that."

"I'll say it for you because it's true. We are."

"You're not."

He shrugged. "I have my prickly days." She giggled at his choice of words and he seemed to derive a lot of joy from that, which was sweet. "And at the end of the day, I am still way too rich than is necessary for one person and I haven't done enough to make that not the case."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know. These people who are billionaires and they give so much to charity they become millionaires. Not that a lot of people have done that. Not many. I guess I like my money along with the rest of 'em."

Sarah wondered if she could read into that that he was a billionaire then, rather than simply a millionaire. That was kind of intense if so. She knew he was richer than she was. He had to be. But THAT much richer?

"Well sure, don't we all? I don't know that you're being fair, Chuck. You give more than anybody else I've met. And that's just the stuff I've seen you do. I haven't known you for long so I'm sure there's a shit ton of other charitable efforts that I don't even know about."

"Yeah, more than the other guys but that's not saying much when the other guys don't do shit."

"Point taken," she muttered, sighing. "But my whole point was that you're easy to be around and I like you a whole lot more than I have any business liking an uber rich tech CEO."

That made him smile, a beaming smile that nearly knocked her on her ass. "Okay, well I will take it. And speaking of having no business, I really don't know how I managed to get you liking me that much. I feel like I have no business having a woman like you wanting to hang around me."

"Bullshit," she groused, making him laugh. "I'm the one causing all the problems, not you. I'm being so fucking difficult. You've been extremely patient. That shit I pulled the other night when we were supposed to be on a date?"

He shook his head and frowned. "Hey, no. Don't. You're here now. I feel like we've more than made up for the interrupted second date." The look he gave her was downright smug and it felt good.

"I think you might be right." She arched an eyebrow, then looked outside again. "This is kind of nuts. It's raining even harder now. I didn't even know it was supposed to rain."

"Yeah this is lasting longer than the cloudburst I thought it was gonna be." He seemed tentative then as he pushed off from the wall, his arms falling to his sides. "You, um, you don't have to be on the road in this do you? I mean you're not…leaving?"

She pursed her lips and crossed HER arms this time. Was she leaving? Did he want her to leave? Or was he hinting for her to stay? That line about having to be out on the road in the rain felt like he was attempting to use the weather as a reason for her to stay.

It was cute but unnecessary.

"I don't have…anything on the schedule…for today," she said haltingly. "But if you've got plans—"

"I don't have anything. Nope," he rushed. "Free as a bird. All day. That," he winced, "was a stupid thing to say. Free as a bird. I don't know…" He shook himself, giving her a self-deprecating look. She grinned at him. "Will you stay? At least for a little while? We can figure out brunch. Since we kinda had breakfast at 4 in the morning."

"We did."

"It was amazing."

"I really liked it." She shrugged, beaming at him because she couldn't stop herself if she tried. "But the company was pretty good so…"

"Charmer," he teased and she laughed. "I have an idea for brunch. I've got a place nearby, it's this little café. They have the best eggs Benedict, and we can get some coffee, and… What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

She winced hard at him and he caught it. Sarah knew that this was going to be the hardest part of what they were doing here, seeing each other, being together. He would keep forgetting that they couldn't go out together, that they couldn't be seen together. And that meant not going to sweet little cafés and sitting at the table to have eggs Benedict and coffee together. A disguise wouldn't cut it. She'd tried it on her own and they always found her. She always was recognized by SOMEONE, even if a lot of them were polite about it. It was the impolite ones she was worried about. The attention it drew.

And then Chuck would be plastered over every tabloid: WHO IS SARAH WALKER'S NEW MYSTERY MAN?

It would change his whole life, and she was positive he wasn't ready for that. Especially not this early on in this relationship, if that's what it was.

She still wasn't sure where he stood on that. She could talk to him, ask. But no. Instead she breathed, "Chuck, I'm sorry. I…can't sit in a café, even on a rainy day like this. I mean, not both of us there together."

Sarah was ready for the disappointed look that would surely cross his features and she would feel like shit for being the one to put it there. But he didn't give her a disappointed look. He merely gave her a small smile and nodded.

"I know that. I didn't mean to insinuate we'd go sit in it together. But I've got an in with the cook. I gave his daughter a job at NTI when she graduated with an engineering degree from Cal State Long Beach. Not a nepotism thing, or even a favor, she deserved the job and she's been kicking ass in the role ever since." She loved that he added that. "All I have to do is sneak in the back door, hand him good money, and I'll be leaving with two full eggs Benedict breakfasts and coffee to go in 15 minutes flat."

She melted, feeling a smile stretch over her face as she peered at him. "15 minutes flat, huh?"

"Yup. What d'you say? It will mean I have to put clothes on so I guess that's a bummer." He wrinkled up his face in a disgruntled scowl and she giggled.

"Oh no, not clothes." She pouted, sidling up close to his chest and wrapping him up in the blanket, pressing her nakedness to his front. "I say it's a good idea," she hummed, purposely dragging her breasts over his chest so he could feel her. "But is there a way you can call it in first and pick it up when it's ready?"

"I've got Remus's number, but I dunno that he'll answer right now. Why?" She gave him a flat look and his eyes snapped open. "Oh. Ohhhh." She giggled at him as the lightbulb went off. "It might be 30 minutes instead of 15 if that's the case."

"I can handle it."

"Well then I'm sure as hell gonna try."

He was on his phone in seconds flat, and after he placed the order with his cook friend, he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her back to the bedroom as she howled with laughter.

+ —

The hot water pounded against her back gloriously, nearly making her moan. A different kind of moan from the one Chuck made her emit when they were in bed a few minutes ago.

That man sure paid attention.

A smug grin crossed her face as she turned to let the jet of hot water smack into her front.

She wished they'd both been a little more like regular adults. If he would've just asked her to stay, using his words, she would've said yes. And she could've easily asked him if she could stay, if he wanted her to stay. HE would've said yes to that.

Instead, they both cowered behind the rain excuse, even as they were both well aware it had nothing to do with the rain and more to do with how badly they didn't want this beautiful interlude to end. Even if they could just call each other and do it again when their schedules lined up.

And that was it, wasn't it? Every time she was with Chuck Bartowski, it felt like an interlude, like she was stepping out of the insane stresses and dangers of her life into this pod of insanely fantastic sex and emotional connection and comfort. Where she could be herself, even as she continued to guard her biggest secrets.

Like how people put those headsets on and went into some sort of virtual reality, the beach or wherever it was they went with those things.

But this wasn't virtual, it was real. He was real. The way he looked up into her face when she was on top of him, his fingers clutching her hips in a tight, wanton grip…God that was so real.

His lips against her skin, his tongue tasting her hip bone? Real. His mouth lowering onto her there? The realest thing in her life probably.

She shivered and stepped all the way under the jet, letting it beat down on her head, water pouring down her face.

Chuck was picking up their "brunch" now, and he said it'd be a bit because it took 10 minutes to drive there, especially in the rain, and 10 minutes back once he found parking and got to the back door of the kitchen, another 5 minutes or more depending on if the curbs were packed over there.

And that was fine, even if a pitiful part of her sort of missed him. An incredibly pitiful part of her. But this gave her time to think. Not just about him, and how good it all felt. And how much better this was with no one freaking knowing about it. How she could keep this and him all to herself. No sharing. Just them.

This also gave her time to think about the fucking CIA. When Chuck was near, she could think of anything but that. She did think of anything but that. Who was she kidding? When he was near, when she was with him, she didn't think about anything but him. And how he made her feel. He was almost like a drug in that way.

And it was the complete opposite from the toxicity that had been a part of her obsessive flash-in-the-pan affairs she'd had before. She felt a happiness that had seemed unattainable for way too long. It wasn't just an obsessive thread of anxious need like the others had been, a sensation that quickly faded. There was peace and warmth here.

Shaking herself, she pushed Chuck and everything that came with him out of her head and instead focused on the thing that had a tendency to swing towards toxicity every so often. And she was stuck with it, for at least the foreseeable future. Thanks to a decision she made when she was practically still a kid.

And she'd make it again if she could go back.

Sighing, she pushed her wet hair back from her face and leaned her head back to blink at the ceiling, letting the jet pound against her neck and chest.

And because she was relatively sure Chuck was still gone, as it had only been maybe 10 minutes since he left and gave her permission to use his shower, she groaned out a loud, "Fuckkkkkk!"

It felt good so she did it again, only a little louder. And then she shut her eyes and took a deep, steamy breath, letting it out slowly.

Graham hadn't formalized a suspension or anything like that. And he hadn't CALLED it a suspension, but it felt like one. It felt like a demotion, actually, which was worse.

The missions would be more rudimentary, more about getting in close with bad players while at parties and premieres. Those missions were difficult, even more difficult, for her. Not because they were physically hard, but because one of them had ended a short relationship that had been fledgling, but had some potential. Back when she was 21. Wes had been a good guy and she'd liked him a lot, but paparazzi had taken a picture of Sarah with her arm around Georges Bozette, and his lips on her neck at a fashion show's after party. She'd come away with the keys to his safe, which she'd replaced late that night while he slept, another woman—definitely the fuck NOT her—in his bed. And the CIA had access to a drive that held some of Bozette's deepest, darkest secrets. They'd toppled his empire slowly and meticulously because of her work.

But Wes had bailed, cut his losses and skedaddled.

And it had hurt.

She didn't want that to be the only thing she did with the CIA. She didn't want a bunch of missions that could potentially backfire like that, in a way that might fuck up her personal life.

Now that she'd made the decision to try whatever was going on here with Chuck, this blossoming romance that felt better than anything else in her life right now, she didn't want him to see shit in a tabloid or on the Internet that made him feel like she was an unfaithful fashion dilletante.

She didn't want to hurt him the way Wes had been hurt. That had sucked. This would suck so much worse. She knew Wes was married to a fellow model and they even had a baby now. Good for him. But hurting and losing Chuck, even with them only having been on 2 dates in LA so far and then this…3rd date? Maybe? Hurting and losing Chuck, she knew, would wreck her.

And maybe this whole thing had been crazy to try.

If the CIA hadn't been involved in her life, sure, no harm no foul.

But it WAS involved in her life. The capacity to which it was involved, she didn't know now. That might change.

Still, she didn't want the CIA fucking this up for her.

Dangerous late night missions with Casey, even if she came out of it with cuts, bumps, bruises, contusions, and that one time she ended up with a concussion, having to find ways to cover up the blemishes and if she couldn't, bow out of appointments and photoshoots by taking sick days (a rare necessity but it had happened). That was something she could handle. She was used to handling it. She'd been handling it for over a decade now. Tyler had been a good asset as her agent, too. He was good at charming the people she'd put off to get her another chance, and then she handled the rest.

She'd rather be shot at than having yet another picture taken of her next to yet another gluttonous, white collar, weapon smuggling, grifting piece of shit with their tendrils in the "business" industry.

Business in WHAT EXACTLY… And that was the point.

But that was the kind of work that was SAFER according to her superiors in the agency, so they would be relegating her to that kind of work. When she was capable of so much more.

But first, this forced period of R&R. While Casey was out there risking life and limb on his own. Her partner.

For now.

She was thoroughly depressed as she finally stepped out of the shower, feeling useless and angry and hurt. They'd dock her clearance level. That was the next thing, she knew. What would she be able to access with her ID on Casey's Castle computers in the base under his house? Probably nothing. Even before this, she knew there were locks on her clearance that Casey didn't have.

Things he could access that she couldn't.

It'd be even worse now.

And all because she'd completed a mission successfully, retrieving what she needed to retrieve, even when she'd been caught in the act and pursued.

She was being punished for something she didn't even know was her fault.

For her own safety.

Bullshit.

She dried off with a towel she found in the cabinet under the sink, wrapped it around her and tied it, and stepped out of his bathroom. She hadn't realized how long she'd spent taking a shower until she heard whistling drift into his bedroom from down the hallway.

Oops.

Her hair tied up in a wet knot on top of her head, she meekly made her way towards the kitchen and found Chuck unloading the food from the wet bags, still clad in his coat that had droplets cascading down it. His hair was wet too.

"Hey."

Chuck jumped, a hand over his heart as he spun. "Oh shit. Oh my God."

She laughed, holding her hand out. "I'm sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You move like a tiger. Jesus," he said with a snort. But then his eyes dropped to her toes and slowly climbed back up to her face. She watched his Adam's apple bob. "Have a good shower?"

"It was fantastic, thank you." That was kind of a lie. The physical sensations from the shower were great, but she'd gotten way too lost in her head and she was still trying to shake off the disillusionment and general bad feelings she'd gotten from thinking about that conversation with Director Graham a few days ago.

"Want something clean to wear?" he asked.

Sarah smirked. "This rain keeps on, I'll be using up all your clean boxers and t-shirts."

"Worth it," he said, moving across the kitchen to open a cabinet and taking plates down. "I'll get the food set to eat, and you go put something on."

"Oh." She shifted her weight. "Um…I don't know if I wanna go digging through your stuff."

Chuck shrugged, furrowing his brow as he popped open the to-go containers. "I've got nothing to hide. You saw where I got the boxers and shirts, right?" She nodded and he smiled. "I mean, don't look TOO closely at my comics collection because you'll find some embarrassing stuff in there."

She giggled and shook her head. "Okay, I'll be right back. Thanks."

And she left him behind, frowning on her way down the hallway to his room, aware of how one-sided this trust was. Because there was no damn way she'd ever let Chuck go digging unaccompanied in her own bedroom. Not for any reason.

And what did that say about her?

More soon! I promise! Please review. Thanks!

SarahsSupplyCloset