Okay, boys and girls. I'm so sorry for the long layoff. Like I've mentioned, life the past two months has been tough. Only recently have I had the time and energy to resume writing.
I want to thank everyone who inquired about the status of this fic. And I'd doubly like to thank all those who've reviewed it. Please, be kind, and keep up the wonderful reviews.
At long last, the promised Sarah/Rachel smackdown. Most of you know I tend to write Sarah differently than the one portrayed in other fics and even the TV show. I write her darker and more tortured. Be warned, that's the Sarah you'll see here.
As always, any errors in grammar, format, or continuity are strictly the fault of BillAtWork... (Kidding. Mostly.)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE PREACHER'S DAUGHTER
"Where are they?" Casey demanded as he burst into the apartment.
Devon was still a little bleary eyed, having only woken ten minutes before. But ten minutes was long enough to figure out his fiancée wasn't home.
"I don't know," Devon said.
"Don't lie to me, frat boy," was Casey's sharp response.
"I don't know," Devon repeated strongly. "I went to bed and she was here. I woke up and she wasn't."
Casey held up a single finger of warning. If I find out you're lying...
He almost immediately found two cell phones on the kitchen counter. Quick examination revealed them to belong to Sarah and Ellie.
He proceeded to turn the apartment inside out, starting with the living room. Devon simply followed behind, unsure whether he should be helping to find some clue that would disclose Ellie's location, or doing everything he could to stop the irate NSA agent.
Both he and Casey felt a little stupid for missing the obvious note on the bedroom nightstand on the first pass. Casey read the note and grunted.
"Son of a bitch. She's finally gone off the reservation."
He slapped the note roughly into Devon's chest as he walked past. "Pack your bags. We're hitting the road."
Devon scanned the note: Babe – We've gone to Vegas to find Chuck. I love you, E.
-----------
"Well, I'm running down the road
tryin' to loosen my load
I've got seven women on
my mind,
Four that wanna own me,
Two that wanna stone me,
One says she's a friend of mine"
It was tasked to Sarah to "requisition" a new vehicle for the trip. She chose a 1996 Red Jeep Grand Cherokee. When she arrived back at the motel, Ellie was ready with the supplies she'd bought from the Wal-Mart down the street.
As the two women packed in tense silence, sparing awkward glances at each other, Chuck helped Rachel to the car.
"Know the worst part of suffering a shoulder wound?" Rachel asked him. "I can't wear anything strapless for awhile. Which royally sucks, because I have fantastic shoulders."
Chuck tried to hide his blush, but Rachel caught it.
"Ha! I knew it! You did notice when you were taking care of me!"
"Kinda hard not to," Chuck defended. "But it was purely professional."
"I bet it was hard," she teased.
Sarah quietly fumed at their flirtations, though her anger didn't go unnoticed by the elder Bartowski. Sarah slammed the rear hatch harder than necessary.
"Load up," she snapped. "We're leaving in five."
"Take it easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
don't even try to understand
Just find a place to make your stand
and take it easy"
They broke the drive into two-hour shifts. They stopped only to refuel, take a leak, and stop at drive-thrus.
Two people up front, two in the middle seat. Just about every combination invoked some sort of awkwardness or tension. Ellie struggled dealing with either agent for the obvious myriad of reasons. Rachel struggled with Ellie for those very reasons. Rachel and Sarah seemed to be having some sort of pissing match with Chuck as the prize. There was still a palpable tension between Sarah and Chuck, the former wondering what the hell she was doing on this trip, the latter wondering if the former would change her mind at any moment.
"Well, I'm a standing on a corner
in Winslow, Arizona
and such a fine sight to see
It's a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed
Ford slowin' down to take a look at me
Come on, baby, don't say maybe
I gotta know if your sweet love is
gonna save me"
The only combinations that seemed to be tension free were Chuck/Ellie and Chuck/Rachel. The latter pair currently occupied the front seats, Rachel driving. Both she and Chuck were content to belt out Eagles lyrics.
"We may lose and we may win though
we will never be here again
so open up, I'm climbin' in,
so take it easy"
Sarah continued to fume. He seemed more comfortable with the woman who kidnapped him that he was with her, the woman who's saved his ass more times than she could count.
Ellie watched curiously. She didn't know what to be more disturbed by, how easily her brother interacted with his kidnapper, or how lovelorn Sarah actually seemed to be.
"Well I'm running down the road trying to loosen
my load, got a world of trouble on my mind
lookin' for a lover who won't blow my
cover, she's so hard to find
Take it easy, take it easy
don't let the sound of your own
wheels make you crazy
come on baby, don't say maybe
I gotta know if your sweet love is
gonna save me, oh oh oh
Oh we got it easy
We oughta take it easy"
That's how things were through Texas. Awkward, quiet, but relatively civil.
Then they crossed the border into Mississippi.
-----------
It was about one in the afternoon. Rachel was driving. In one hand she held a Junior Whopper and was periodically taking bites. The fingers of the other hand drummed along the steering wheel, beating out the rhythm to ZZ Top's My Head's in Mississippi along with the radio.
Next to her sat Sarah. Head in hand, the blond agent propped her elbow on the window seal. Her eyes barely registered the passing scenery.
Rachel spared a glance in the rearview mirror. Both Chuck and Ellie appeared to be asleep. The agent smiled fondly at Chuck's slumbering form. He sat upright, his head resting against the window. Not the most comfortable position, but it allowed for Ellie to stretch out in the seat and rest her head in his lap.
"So, we gonna do this?" she asked Sarah, confident the siblings were asleep.
"Do what?" Sarah replied emotionlessly.
"The Talk."
"You mean The Talk where I inform you just how lucky you are right now NOT to be either in a detention facility or dead because I put a bullet through you?"
Rachel cringed. Maybe a little more blunt than she would have put it...
"Yeah. That talk."
"How 'bout we not?" Sarah snapped.
"Okay," Rachel drawled. The car settled into an uncomfortable silence. When Rachel could no longer take it: "I should still say thank you..."
"And don't," Sarah interrupted, "make the mistake of thinking I'm doing this for you."
Rachel spared another glance in the rearview mirror. "Believe me, I know."
Sarah's blood boiled at the fond smile that graced Rachel's face as she viewed Chuck in the mirror.
"He's quite remarkable, isn't he?" Rachel asked. "I knew it the moment I began to research him. Even managed to pull up a couple mission reports. The things he's done. No formal training. Just thrown into the fire. Remarkable."
"I'm sorry, did I leave you with the impression I was interested in conversation?" Sarah harshly retorted.
Rachel looked briefly to Sarah. "Wow. You are in love with him."
In the backseat, as she continued to feign sleep, Ellie reached the same conclusion.
"Not that I blame you," Rachel continued, very much aware of Sarah's indignant sputtering. "He's smart, sweet, compassionate. Saves your life at the critical moment." After a beat: "Plus, he's got a nice ass, which is always a bonus."
Sarah gritted her teeth. "Swore I said I wasn't interested in conversation."
"Right," Rachel drawled. "I forgot. When the great Sarah Walker isn't interested, the subject's immediately dropped."
Now that caught Sarah's attention. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Rachel breezed right by the explanation. "I wonder how many times you've pulled that on Chuck. Whenever things get too complicated. Which for you is probably every ten seconds."
"And what the hell does that mean?" Sarah demanded.
"It means you have the emotional maturity of a teenage pop star," Rachel snapped back. "Only with lousier history with men."
"First off," Sarah said, extending her pointer finger, "I'm not in love with him."
Two women, one in the driver's seat, the other feigning sleep in back, mentally rolled their eyes at Sarah's assertion.
Extending her middle finger, Sarah continued, "Second, Chuck's a smart guy. He knows we can only be teammates. And third..." Sarah proceeded to retract her pointer finger, leaving only one digit extended, "Screw you."
"Wow," Rachel mocked. "I bet you were on the debate team."
"I repeat my third point," Sarah retorted. Then, she added, "What concern is it of yours anyway?"
Rachel glanced into the rearview mirror again. Smiled fondly at Chuck's slumbering form. "Like I said. He's a remarkable man. A girl would be very lucky to have him." With a quick glance at Sarah, "Something I'm not sure you've realized."
Sarah snorted derisively. "What I hadn't realized is how well you know us."
"Chuck's easy," Rachel shrugged. "What you see is what you get. Smart, kind, funny, brave, loyal. All wrapped up in a very delicious package. And you... you're still the preacher's daughter."
Sarah blinked, confused. If she hadn't been feigning sleep, Ellie would have too.
"Huh?" Sarah finally asked.
"Beautiful. Likes to play the good girl, hut has a wild streak she hides from daddy. And that effervescent charm that brings the boys around like a moth to a flame. At day's end, while you may tease and flirt a bit, you're ultimately untouchable. The preacher's daughter."
"That's crap," Sarah declared.
"Is it? When have you ever let a man truly know you?"
"James..." Sarah began, but Rachel cut her off.
"No, you told James nothing. Everything he knew about you he discovered through your personnel file and a little research."
"Bryce..." Sarah tried again.
"Bryce didn't even know your real birthday."
"We're CIA operatives," Sarah explained. "It's not like we can spill everything to the first pretty face."
"I'm not talking about the first pretty face. I'm talking about the right pretty face. The one guy in all the world who can make a hardened CIA operative reconsider everything."
"What do you know about it?" Sarah shot back.
"A hell of a lot more than you," was Rachel's sharp reply. "I've been in love. Revealed parts of myself I swore I would hide until my death. And I've felt complete acceptance in return. Which is more than you can claim." Then, softer, "Because you always screw things up."
Incredulously, Sarah asked, "How do I screw things up?"
"How do you not?" was the reply. "With James, with Bryce. Yeah, you're beautiful and engaging and charming. But you give nothing. Hell, I know nothing about you and we've been friends what? Nine years?"
"In this job we can't give anything away."
"Bullshit. Even I've disclosed a few personal items to you. My first concert, my first boyfriend, my favorite book and movie. Sure, they're little things, but relationships are built on the little things."
Sarah simply shook her head and turned away, gazing out the window at the passing scenery. The gesture irritated Rachel.
"Of course, you're not interested. Big surprise. Just turn away and pretend you can ignore me."
"Like you're an expert on healthy, long lasting relationships."
Soon as the words escaped her lips, Sarah felt a wave of regret. Rachel's gaze frosted over. Her voice was downright chilly.
"At least I've put my heart on the line. You're too much of a coward to ever try." On instinct, Rachel's eyes again flittered towards the rearview mirror. The sight of Chuck's slumbering form did wonders to ease the tension in her body.
"That night in the hotel when the four of us got together. I watched you and Chuck. I could see the devotion in his eyes whenever he gazed upon you. I could hear it in his voice. He's in love with you." With a look to Sarah: "And you're not gonna do a damn thing about it. Wonderful man like him and you're just gonna be a chickenshit."
Then, after a few moments of thought, Rachel said, "Maybe it's for the best. Chances are you'd just screw up a relationship anyway. You're so damn maladjusted."
"Whatever," Sarah muttered.
Angered that she still wasn't reaching her, Rachel tried to think of another tact. A wicked smile appeared on her face as it came to her.
"Of course, if you're too scared to make a play for him..."
Rachel let the thought hang. Just as she hoped, Sarah slowly turned to face her, a cold expression on her face. "Excuse me?"
"Hey, if you're not gonna call dibs..."
"He isn't Heinrich, Rachel. There's no need to manipulate him into playing your lost love."
"Believe me, at first my fascination with Chuck was that. He reminded me so much of Heinrich. But now... he's a different man than Heinrich, but no less wonderful. With Heinrich it was a struggle. I had to learn how to open up. But with Chuck, I could be that for him." With a smirk at Sarah: "He might appreciate that in a woman for a change."
"If you so much as touch him..."
"You'll what? Declare your indifference? If you're not gonna fight for him, I will. Hell, after another rejection or two from you he may just come to me anyway. Lord knows he wouldn't be the first of your men to do so after you broke their heart."
Sarah tried to wrap her mind around the implication. Rachel loved that she was off balance.
"April 2006. Bryce told me all about the fight you guys had in Rio. It was a heavy burden, but I only saw fit to comfort him... again and again and again. By the end of the week I couldn't walk straight because of all the...comfort...I offered him."
Rachel glanced down at Sarah's hands. She was clutching the passenger's door handle fiercely. Rachel smirked. Now it was time for the kill.
"Oh, and James..." Sarah's head snapped around so fast Rachel thought she might get whiplash. "Right after you decided you didn't need him anymore... I don't know how you cast him aside. There is something to be said about a man with experience."
"You're lying," Sarah insisted.
"Am I? Then how do I know about that little scar just above his...?"
"Pull over."
"What's that, Sarah?"
Sarah didn't ask a second time. She grabbed the steering wheel and jerked.
In the backseat, the Bartowski siblings jerked awake. "What the hell?" little brother cried out.
The Grand Cherokee turned violently into the parking lot of a backwater gas station. Rachel slammed the brakes, tossing the siblings into the seats before them.
In an instant, Sarah leapt from the car and marched around to the driver's side. She yanked open the door, grabbed Rachel by the left wrist and jerked her out the car. The motion aggravated Rachel's bullet wound, and the peroxide blonde cried out in pain.
Sarah didn't care in the least. She slung Rachel hard into the dusty ground, which only served to damage the injured shoulder further.
"I said no conversation!"
In moments Sarah was standing over Rachel. She bent down to grab of fistful of hair— Suddenly Rachel's boot came crashing up into Sarah's
groin. The blow stunned her momentarily, long enough for Rachel to send another boot into her belly. The wounded agent flipped to her feet.
"One of these days, Sarah, you're gonna hafta pull your head out of your ass."
With a grunt, Sarah steadied on her feet. "One of these days, Rachel, you're gonna learn to keep your nose out of my business."
"Somebody's gotta knock some sense into your thick skull."
"Well you're about to get something beat into yours."
Sarah swung with a hard right. Rachel blocked with her left, then viciously headbutted Sarah in turn. Sarah stumbled back a few steps, regrouped, then executed a spinning kick that caught Rachel square in the jaw.
It was that moment when Chuck and Ellie climbed from the car. Chuck was horrified to find the two agents slugging it out.
"I gotta stop them!" he declared, intent on rushing in. His sister caught him by the wrist, her eyes telling him something quite different.
"Leave them be, Chuck. They need to work things out."
"What the hell is worth killing each other for?"
Ellie looked Chuck over and marveled how her usually intelligent brother could be so dense. "Someday you'll figure it out."
Just then, Sarah delivered a roundhouse punch and followed up with a kick to the gut, sending Rachel crashing into a soda machine.
"Sarah! Don't hurt her!" Chuck cried. "She just got shot!"
Rachel wiped away a trickle of blood oozing from her lips, a wicked smile on her face. "Yeah, Sarah, don't hurt me."
Her blood boiled. She launched a straight right at Rachel's head, but the other agent dodged at the last moment, leaving Sarah's hand to smack hard against the plastic soda machine.
Sarah howled in pain, first from her possibly broken hand, then again from the left hook to her kidney.
Rachel pressed the advantage, delivering a series of body shots. Sarah did her best to cover up, trying to recoup from the kidney blow. "Whatsa matter, Sarah?" she grunted between blows. "Don't like other children playing with your toys?"
Rachel threw a left, aimed at Sarah's head. Sarah caught her wrist with her right hand, then quickly slammed her left elbow into Rachel's shoulder, directly over the bullet wound.
Rachel screamed and fell to her knees. The pain was amplified as Sarah slapped on an arm bar, wrenching the appendage, milking every last bit of suffering.
"This isn't a game. Chuck isn't some prize to be won."
"Then you're a moron. Because that boy's worth fighting over." Sarah twisted her arm, eliciting a fresh scream. After the initial sharp pain subsided, Rachel looked up at Sarah, gasping for breath. "Look at you. Do you even have a clue why you're fighting?"
Sarah hesitated, which was enough for Rachel to execute a leg sweep. Sarah hit the ground hard. An instant later, Rachel was straddling her hips and pinning her wrists down.
"Are you pissed because I slept with Bryce and James? Why? You may have been with them, but you were never with them. Not in any way that mattered. Or are you simply pissed they were able to move on when the Golden Girl cast them aside?"
"Don't flatter yourself. If anything, the recurring theme here is you continue to be second best."
Rachel flinched, hurt by the comment. But she pushed it aside. "Maybe so. But I accept that. I'll never be you. Of course, why would I want to be? I know who I am. I'm a woman capable of love. Of putting her heart on the line."
"Look where that got you," Sarah snapped back. "Disowned by the CIA, the only life you've known. Hunted by people who used to be your friends. Was falling in love really worth it?"
"Absolutely," Rachel said with conviction. "If I could go back in time and relive it all, even knowing how it ended, I would. Being with Heinrich I felt for the first time that life was actually worth living. For the first time, I knew that someone actually loved me. My God! Sarah! Can you imagine how glorious that feels?" Then, colder, matter-of-factly, "Of course not. You won't let yourself."
Rachel closed her eyes, lost in her thoughts. "Chuck... He evokes so many of those feelings I experienced when I first met Heinrich. And let me tell you, Sarah, love... it's like a drug. Once you feel it, you're hooked." With a grin: "I wouldn't mind having Chuck's hooks in me, among other things."
With a harsh grunt, Sarah drove her knee into Rachel's ribs. The other agent loosened her grip and Sarah flipped them over so that she was atop Rachel. She then clocked the rogue agent across the jaw. Whatever reaction she expected, it wasn't delighted laughter.
"Guess I know why you're fighting me. I told you he was worth it."
"Keep away from him," Sarah hissed.
"I'll do as I please," Rachel shot back. With another smirk, "And if he asks nicely, I'll do as he pleases, too."
Sarah drove another punch across her jaw. It only stunned Rachel for a moment, for the next she monkey flipped Sarah away.
The combatants stumbled to their feet. They only hesitated long enough to catch a quick breath before resuming the fight.
Usually Sarah would use her athletic prowess and quickness to her advantage. But she was so enraged she willingly dropped her martial arts style for a brawler's mentality, which fit right into Rachel's hands.
Rachel was easily the larger of the pair. Two inches taller and nearly twenty pounds heavier, Rachel much preferred to get close and do damage. In a fight like this, Rachel would normally be favored.
But the bullet wound to her shoulder basically left Rachel to fight one handed. And while Sarah's hand was injured from punching the soda machine, it'd numbed up enough for her to continue using it.
So the women moved in close, like heavyweights of yesterday, and began to batter away. Rachel turned southpaw, using her right jab to keep Sarah at bay. Sarah meanwhile attempted to duck inside, to neutralize Rachel's more powerful punches and land some body shots of her own.
As the fighters clashed on the dusty parking lot, an audience began to develop. People slowly approached, trickling out the small convenience store or from the pumps as they filled with gas. Some were even waving around money, obviously taking bets on which of the two beautiful blondes would emerge victorious.
"Just say it, Sarah," Rachel grunted. Sarah managed another sharp hook to her belly.
"Go to hell," Sarah spat.
Despite the pain it inflicted upon her, Rachel lashed out with a left cross to Sarah's jaw.
"Man up, babe. Say the words."
Another fierce combination from Sarah. Rachel reeled, blood oozing from her mouth and nose. With the bullet wound, she wasn't near 100 percent when the fight began.
"You're gonna do it again," she continued to taunt, despite the beating. "You're gonna let another man slip through your fingers. Just because you refuse to grow a set of balls."
Rachel couldn't cover up fast enough. A straight left weaved between her hands and impacted just about her right eye. It was followed by a right cross that hit the "night-night" button on her jaw. She collapsed in a heap.
On the ground, in a place beyond exhaustion, Rachel stared up in a daze at the bright blue sky. She spat up a bit of blood. Despite it all, she continued to chuckle.
"Coward. You can't say it. And that's why you're gonna lose him. It's why you lost all of them."
Sarah stared at her fallen foe. Wiped away a trail of blood oozing from her own nose. "Why does it matter to you?"
"Because I never told Heinrich."
Suddenly every bit of anger Sarah felt melted away. Rachel's voice was so thick with emotion.
"I'm almost positive he knew. But if I'd just said the words, I wouldn't live everyday with this doubt and regret."
Sarah stared down into the dirt. Tears threatened to spill at Rachel's confession. Yet she still couldn't bring herself to say the words Rachel pushed her to say. Rachel saw this and chuckled again. But this time, there was absolutely no humor to it.
"Damn, Sarah. You still can't say it. You really are gutless."
Sarah looked over to Chuck. He continued to stand by the Cherokee with his sister. He stared in horror at the scene before him. Like a stab to her gut, Sarah noticed his eyes were fixed upon Rachel. He obviously ached to check on his former captor.
"What does it matter? I don't think he has eyes for me anymore."
"If you honestly believe that then you're a moron."
Sarah stared in Rachel's direction, but wasn't truly looking at her. The other agent used her tank top to wipe blood from her nose. Then suddenly, quietly, Sarah asked:
"How do I know?"
For a moment, Rachel stopped dabbing at the blood and looked to Sarah, unsure if she actually heard anything. Sarah seemed to realize this.
"How do I know...if what I feel is real?"
A genuine smile graced Rachel's bloody features. "Damn. Look at you. Maybe not completely hopeless." She extended a hand. "Help me up. We'll discuss it over beer."
Sarah nodded vaguely and helped Rachel to her feet.
-------------
Ten minutes later, Rachel and Sarah sat outside the gas station, backs against the ice cooler. The purchased a bag of ice and some Ziplocs and were currently icing their wounds. Between them were two six-packs of Guinness, one for each agent. Both women had just started their second beer.
"I had so many chances," Rachel mused. "So many nights we shared together." Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "He said it so many times. And he said it so easily. But I knew with absolute certainty that he meant it every time. Why couldn't I...?"
Rachel took a deep slug off her beer, draining half of it. Sarah did the same, though for different reasons.
"Was it worth it?" Sarah asked. "The way it ended..."
"I told you my one and only regret," Rachel replied with conviction. "Looking back, I can honestly say the only time in my life that I've truly been happy are those few months I spent with Heinrich." Taking another pull of beer, she derisively added: "Which speaks to how badly the rest of my life has sucked."
"But... I just can't..." Sarah insisted.
"Why? Because of the job? You know something, Sarah? Screw the job. Because the job will screw you the first chance it gets. Believe me, I know."
"What do you suggest I do?"
"My advice? Buy a pack of Trojans, wear something slutty and easily removable, and give the boy a ride. He'll be yours forever."
Sarah managed a dry laugh. "I thought we were talking about love."
"Hey, just because it's love doesn't mean it can't be dirty, too." For a moment, Rachel became lost in the moment. "Beautiful, filthy love." She snapped back to reality. "Believe me, I know."
The pair sat a few moments in almost companionable silence. Then Sarah said: "I don't like how you look at him."
"Tough. You don't own him. Yet."
Sarah glared. For a moment, Rachel thought she might react violently. Thankfully, Sarah was too damn exhausted to act.
"We should probably get going," was all Sarah offered.
"Probably," Rachel agreed. It took considerable effort, but both women made it to their feet. Clutching their packs of beer, they slowly strode back to the car. "Hey, you think we can stop at a Wal-Mart or something? We're gonna need a few gallons of concealor to cover these bruises."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
"And a box of red hair dye. No offense, but I've had enough of blonde. I always love your hair. What brand do you use?"
Sarah's back went stiff. "I don't know what you mean. This is my natural color."
"Right," Rachel drawled. "Those eyebrows say different."
Sarah would have summoned the energy to smack her except they were now in range of Chuck.
"Are you okay?!" his desperate voice sounded.
"Yeah, I'm fine..." Sarah started, only to have her heart break when Chuck immediately went to check on Rachel. She barely noticed when Ellie stepped forward and took her injured hand.
She watched as Chuck's fingers gently caressed Rachel's face, checking her swollen lips and bloody nose. She watched as Rachel closed her eyes, a soft smile upon her face as she gently leaned into Chuck's touch.
"Did you tear your stitches?"
"Hmm?" Rachel hummed, not quite listening to his words, merely listening to his soothing tone as his gently fingers roamed her bruised body.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
The women all jolted at Chuck's suddenly angry tone. To everyone's immense surprise, his gaze was fixed on Sarah.
"For God's sake, she was just shot a couple days ago! And you! With the whole twisting of her arm and aggravating her injury! What the hell, Sarah?"
If Sarah wasn't feeling rotten before, she certainly was now. She couldn't look Chuck in the eyes. Very softly she said, "I'm sorry."
"Chuck, don't be upset with her," Rachel injected. "The second rule of being a secret agent: only losers fight fair."
The answer didn't appease Chuck in the least. "What the hell was that about anyway?! Look, I get you both are highly successful kung-fuey secret agents, but I suggest you both lose the alpha female attitudes and focus on the problem at hand! Or have we forgotten about the job at hand? You know, saving a little girl from the evil Nazi guys?"
"We're sorry," Sarah and Rachel said together.
"And you!" Chuck shouted, suddenly turning on Rachel. "I've gotten to know you and I bet you picked this fight with my girlfriend, didn't you?"
Everyone but Chuck seemed cognizant of his use of "girlfriend". The word seemed to damage Rachel worse than any punch Sarah delivered. Sarah, meanwhile, couldn't help the slight smile from gracing her face. Something Ellie noticed from up close as she continued her examination.
Having expelled some of his fury, he finally turned to Sarah with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Sarah said, suddenly feeling like a million bucks. "Nothing some Tylenol and a bucket of makeup can't fix."
Ellie stepped aside so Chuck could begin his own examination of Sarah. While the doctor moved over to Rachel, Chuck's fingers slowly traced over Sarah's face, checking over her bruises. Like Rachel before her, Sarah leaned into the touch. Only she fixed her gaze on her fellow agent, her eyes saying "Nah nah".
"Is her hand broken?"
Ellie shook her head. She continued to watch the interaction between the two agents. She didn't fail to notice how Rachel bristled with tension. Ellie seriously doubted it was due to her own examination of the agent. Rather it was the sight of the other pair that evoked this response.
She never knew her brother had it in him.
Chuck nodded. Very gently he lifted her hand and examined it. In a soothing voice, "We'll find a place to stop. Put some ice on it." Then, sternly, he spoke to both agents. "Get in the truck. I don't want to hear a peep from either of you until we next stop."
Chuck yanked open the rear door. Very obediently and contritely, the agents slipped into the car. Despite the lingering tension between the agents, Rachel whispered to Sarah:
"It's kinda hot when he asserts himself."
"Yeah," Sarah agreed. Then with a sharp glance at Rachel. "Stop talking about him like that."
"Bite me," Rachel replied as Chuck climbed into the driver's seat. The younger Bartowski glared at them in the rearview mirror.
"Do I need to separate you two?"
"No," the agents declared.
Chuck nodded firmly. He twisted the key and fired the ignition. After a few moments of driving, Rachel's voice sounded from the backseat.
"Can you turn on the radio?"
"No."
Rachel settled back against the seat and sighed happily. "So hot," she breathed, loud enough for only Sarah to hear. Her counterpart glared, but did nothing.
About a mile further down the highway, Ellie suddenly asked: "What's the first rule?" Three sets of eyes turned on her in confusion. Clarifying, "Rachel said the second rule of being an agent is only losers fight fair. What's the first rule?"
"Ask Sarah," Rachel responded. "She's the one who follows the rules. A regular girl scout."
Sarah just watched the Mississippi landscape fly by, barely reacting to Rachel's verbal jab. Though the answer to Ellie's question was running through her mind.
Likewise, Chuck barely reacted to yet another knife wound through his heart. He couldn't decide which hurt worse: Rachel's comment, the implications of which had long been his fear, or Sarah's lack of response to it. Either way, he felt the fires of hope inside dim once more.
And Ellie... she was left without an answer. Baffled by the reactions of the others, Ellie simply remained silent, letting her question slide into oblivion.
END PART