AN: I'm kind of rethinking the whole unhappy ending thing, but I can't seem to find the right songs. Hmm..we will see.

Relationship Speedwagon: Take it on the Run

Sarah and I moved in together a month after that night in my apartment. We thought about looking for a place, but decided that her suite at the hotel was sufficient. Living together was strange. I'd never done it with anyone that I dated. Sarah had some experience in the matter, although she refused to give specifics. We essentially fumbled our way through the growing pains. I learned to either take a two minute shower or let Sarah go first. She is not a morning person.

Our second night together was particularly humorous. Well, I was actually petrified at the time, but looking back, it's a story to tell the grandkids. Sarah's a very stationary sleeper, while I'm the type who flails around on the mattress. Not being used to having someone else in her bed, Sarah had the same reaction that any agent would to a hand hitting them in the face. She assaulted me. Quicker than I could blink, she had me in a headlock, with a knife poised above the arteries in my neck. In a rather high pitch voice, I identified myself as her affable boyfriend who meant no harm. She pulled her night mask off and gave me a sheepish grin. The knife was still touching skin so I refrained from any anger or humor.

The weeks went by and we were able to settle into comfortable routines. One of those was that I could not spend every waking moment in the apartment playing video games. Although Sarah was relatively understanding about the times that I did play in the apartment, I ended up going over Morgan's place a lot. We would have our mindless conversation and pig out on junk food. It was a happy medium.

The last time I visited my height challenged friend was two weeks ago. It was not a fun night. We were in the middle of Guitar Hero when he nonchalantly swears that he saw what looked like Sarah and Bryce Larkin making out in her Porsche. I laughed and told him that Bryce Larkin was dead. He then told me about a doppelganger he met who went to University of Pennsylvania. I could tell his mind wasn't really into our conversation so I let it drop. By they end of the night, I was bursting with questions and scenarios. Even though he mentioned it as a funny occurrence, he answered them all and tried to remember as much as possible about the five W's.

After that night, I cashed in all of the inadvertent training that my government agent protectors had bestowed upon me. As casually as possible, I enquired as to where Sarah went and made mental notes about her time tables. She'd usually tell me on the weekends that she was going to meet with Casey or do reconnaissance. Calls to Casey quickly confirmed that he had no plans with my girlfriend.

I confronted him one afternoon.

"She's seeing someone else isn't she," I said, entering his apartment.

"Don't you every knock," he replied, ignoring my accusation.

I sank down on his sofa, putting my head in my hands. Looking into his eyes, I pleaded. I essentially begged the hardened agent to give me the truth. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and pulled a folder from his cabinet. Tossing it on the coffee table, he flipped it open and spread the contents across the wooden surface. They were pictures of Sarah, of Bryce, and of the two of them together in some fairly compromising positions. I kicked the table in anger.

"How long?" I needed to know how pissed off I should be. Was the whole thing a lie?

"I figured it out about two months ago," he said, before pausing to look me in the eyes, "Shortly after you two moved in together."

I let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a growl. "Was this all part of her assignment, to get close to me?"

Casey shook his head. "Not that I knew. If it was, it was a CIA only gig."

A few minutes of silence followed his answer and I came to a decision. "Can I borrow a few of these," I asked, pointing to the picture. He nodded his head. I grabbed the one I wanted an left the apartment in a hurry.

Sarah was already home when I get to the apartment. She was getting dressed so I sat on the bed, hiding the pictures under the blankets. Leaning against the headboard, I ran through the things that I wanted to say. She came out of the closet. Her hands were in the air, as she tried to fix her hair. She gave me a smile before turning her attention to the mirror. I forced out a grin, but I'm sure it looked more like I was about to be sick. Grabbing her purse and jacket, Sarah gave me a peck on the lips, saying something about being home later.

"Where are you going," I questioned, starting the ball rolling.

"Casey's. We've got a meeting with the heads and then we need to go over some files," she lied.

"Really? That's strange because I talked to him and he said you guys didn't have to work tonight."

Sarah looked at me in shock. I don't think I'd ever not taken her word about something. She recovered quickly. "It just came up. You must have talked to him before we got the call."

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I was over his apartment twenty minutes ago looking at some troubling photos," I revealed, tossing the pictures at her feet.

She looked at the photos and back to my face several times. I saw sorrow, guilt, and anger reflected in her gaze. To my complete astonishment, she moved towards the door, placing her hand on the knob. My voice cut through the silence.

"Where in the world are you going," I yelled.

She turned back toward me. Her face was anguished. "Chuck, I can't do this right now."

I saw red. "Do what? Explain why you've been screwing Bryce behind my back for the last few months. Hell, maybe you never stopped. It would be just like me to fall for another slut."

I regretted the words once they escaped, even though they were mostly true. However, I refused to take them back. She had a lot for which to answer. I think I was as upset with myself as I was with her. I was so blinded that I didn't notice her strange behavior and lies.

Her eyes widened in shock, but she gave no other reaction. I then noticed her hand tighten on the doorknob. She was going to leave without any kind of explanation. I couldn't believe it.

"If you leave tonight, that's it. You can take your affair and run. I'm through."

At my ultimatum, she released the door handle, sank to the floor, and muttered the words 'I'm sorry' over and over. I had no idea how to react.