A/N: Part three! Yeah! It's a little…okay a lot longer than the other parts, but it had a lot of stuff I wanted to cover. Oh, and it's also a little darker. Try as I might I just can't make Shaw's death cheerful. Anyway. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Chuck=Not Mine.

When I was younger, before I was a spy, I had always wanted to see Paris. Daddy and I had conned our way through most of Europe when I was thirteen, but we had never been to Paris. It was a shame, really.

I hate Paris now. As Shaw and I exit the plane, I can see the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. The night is perfect, quiet.

Chuck had wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. He'd told me about it more than once. I really wish he was here.

It's just one more mission. I keep telling myself that. I can have Chuck when I finish just one more mission.

Shaw is quiet. We didn't talk much on the flight out. I glance over at him. His face is impassive. His eyes are dark.

I pull my coat tighter. The streets are empty. Daniel insists he knows the way. He links his arm through mine. I comply, but lean a little away. I miss Chuck.

The city is vaguely familiar. I went here once with Bryce a long time ago. Then, before that for…my red test. The worst day of my life. I look at Shaw. He isn't looking at me.

I can hear the soft splash of the canals and the faint rumbling of cars. We walk to a corner. It would be unremarkable to most people. I drop Shaw's arm.

A sense of dread suddenly captures me. Then, all at once, I realize something's unmistakably wrong. I've been here before.

"Something is off." I survey the corner before looking back at my partner.

"What is it?" His voice is oddly husky. His eyes are rimmed with red.

Suddenly, I'm terrified. I can feel the gun in my hand. I can see her body turn away from me and fall onto the cold pavement.

"Why did you bring me here?" I'm angry. Angry at Shaw but mostly angry at myself for trusting him and not listening to Chuck.

"What do you mean?" His hands are in his pockets. His voice is low and filled with some emotion I don't recognize.

The gun is in my hands before I realize it. I point it at him, trying not to shake with fear. Just one more mission, a voice in my head says, just one more.

"You led me here." My voice is steady even if my body isn't. I feel numb all over. "Come on. This is where I shot her. Is this some kind of a trap?"

"Sarah…" He almost smiles as he says my name. I can't feel anything. "You killed my wife." His face becomes dark, threatening. "Did you really think that I'd be okay with that?"

I swallow, I grip the gun tighter. I feel so stupid. I feel so betrayed. "But you said that…" I hear the tears in my voice. I'm scared.

"I told you a lot of things to get you here." He's almost smiling again. I feel limp, dead. "Gun's getting heavy, isn't it?"

The world is a blur. I see the dart in my shoulder, but I can't feel it. The cold metal falls from my hand.

I close my eyes for a second. There's no Casey here to watch my back, no Chuck to save the day. I'm not surprised when I see the Ring Director. I'm not even scared. I'm just sad.

I'm sorry Chuck. I whisper noiselessly as they carry me away.

The night seems dimmer now, like its foggy or something. I assume that it's the drugs doing it. I listen to Shaw and the Director. They talk at me, not to me. I know I'm going to die.

Inside I'm screaming. I want to attack them, to just shoot the bastards. But I can't. Everything is all blurs and echoes. I can barely blink, let alone kill anyone.

Shaw's voice suddenly cuts through the haze like a knife. "Almost time to go."

I look past him. And, for a moment, everything is absolutely perfect. Because there's Chuck.

My Chuck.

I see the gun in his hand. It looks so utterly wrong there. He holds with a distaste bordering on disgust.

But the look in his eyes when he sees me slouched there, alone and helpless, is almost too much to bear. He looks simultaneously enraged and terrified. Then his eyes find Shaw. I've never seen so much hatred in my Chuck's eyes. I can barely recognize him.

I can't hear what they're saying. I can't move, I can't breath. Even without the drugs, I would be paralyzed. He came to save me. Like he always did. It didn't matter if I lived or died. This was more than I had ever expected him to do. This was more than an air strike, more than a tank.

"You're under arrest." Chuck's voice is quiet, controlled. He hates this, what he's doing. He hates the gun in his hands. I can tell. "Now stand up."

"Less smart, Chuck." Shaw's voice is just as controlled. He hates this too. He doesn't want Chuck's blood on his hands. I can tell. "You should pull the trigger, now. Kill me."

I gasp in a breath. For a second, I think he'll do it. But, he doesn't. I want to cry or laugh or scream or something. But I just sit there, motionless.

"I wouldn't do that." His voice is less controlled. I can hear his panic slipping through the cracks.

A gunshot. I register it. It must be Casey. Chuck confirms it. Shaw's voice is still controlled, still cool and emotionless. "And you've got me?"

"Stand…up." More emotion slips through the cracks. I'm afraid. Not for myself, but for my Chuck. I can't let anything happen to him.

"I guess the gun was his idea. Good."

The fight is over fast. I can't see most of it. But soon, very soon, Shaw is pulling me up onto my feet. I'm limp in his arms.

"No, Shaw, don't do this." Chuck pants. I can see his lanky figure huddled on the ground. It's blurry in my drug-induced haze. Is he hurt? I can't tell and I begin to panic. I'm not scared for myself anymore. I just want Chuck to be okay.

Shaw's voice is rough and intense beside my ear. "You can't flash, can you?" The lanky figure swims into clearer focus. I see his face, Chuck's face, contorted with fear. He's afraid for me. "Those emotions get you into trouble."

I close my eyes. I'm cold. I'm numb. I can hear Shaw's heavy breathing in my ears. His voice is still cool, even. I hate him. "Now, just stay here. I don't want to hurt you." I hear him pause, a tiny bit of regret creeping into his tone. "None of this was your fault. I haven't told them your secret. But if you follow me…I will kill you."

Part of me, most of me really, wants Chuck to run, to be safe. I just want my Chuck to be safe. But, I know he won't. He's too good, too brave. He's so much more than I could ever deserve.

"Sarah!" his voice rings out along the lonely Paris street.

I try to pull away from Shaw, to go back to my Chuck. But I can't. So we continue on through the hazy night. I hear the splashing of water growing stronger. Shaw pulls me along. I begin to cry soundlessly, tears running along my cheeks.

This isn't fair. I thought it was all done. All the lies, all the secrets, all the pain. I thought it was going to be better. Just me and my Chuck. The way it was always supposed to. I loved him. He loved me.

The water is black beneath me. "The drug will dull the pain." Shaw's voice is unruffled, calm. Like the water. "You won't feel a thing."

I try to tell him that I will. I try to tell him that separating me and Chuck now would be worse that torture. I want to make him feel some tiny piece of what I was feeling.

But I just don't have the words.

"Stop!" I can't move. I can't look to see him. But I know he's there. I can see the water. I can see the yellow glow of the city. But I can't turn to see the man I love.

"I warned you." I hear the displeasure in Shaw's voice. I fight with everything I have to turn my head. I can see him, just barely now. Chuck.

There is no distaste in his expression as he clutches the gun. Just determination. I want to call out to him. I want to stop this. But I can't.

"Please…" His voice is earnest, pleading. "It doesn't have to be like this. This isn't you Shaw. You can't do this."

I close my eyes. Chuck has talked his way into so many things using that same voice. He's turned rouge spies, captured FULCRUM agents, talked people down from the edge. I want it to work. I want Shaw to drop the gun. I want everything to go back to the way it was before.

Apparently, Shaw doesn't. "No, Chuck, I can." I feel my heart begin to race, feel my blood pound in my ears. "You can't."

I hear the gun cock.

I feel my breath stop.

Then…bang, bang BANG!

And my world…

goes dark.

Everything is warm. I open my eyes. And yellow. I like yellow. Yellow is a homey, family sort of color.

I'm in a bed. I turn a little this way and then a little that way. I can move. I almost laugh. But something seems…off. Wrong. I'm worried about something. I can't remember…

I hear the familiar clack of keys. A computer. Chuck.

"Hey." The tapping stops. Suddenly, he's right beside me. His face is tired. There are dark shadows under his eyes. "How you feeling?"

I pull myself up a little. "Mmm…" The room is nice, warm. "What happened?"

He takes a breath and looks away before answering. "Everything's okay now." His voice is sad. I'm confused. Last night seems hazy, unreal. It feels like I'm trying to do a jigsaw puzzle with blank pieces.

"What about Shaw?" I know he was there last night…I can see his face…a street…something dark…cold…

Chuck's face is sad, pained. I've never seen him like this. Not once. Not even after Bryce died the second time, not after Jill betrayed him…never. I want to hug him, to make it better.

"He's dead." The words make the yellow room colder, more real. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, my God, we…" I try to sort out the hazy memories that are filtering through my mind. "There was a…there was a café and…and he tried to kill me and…" The realization of what must have happened hit me all at once. There was only one way Chuck and I could still be alive.

"Oh, my God you shot him." I force the words past my lips. I can't believe it…

"I couldn't let him hurt you, Sarah. Trust me, I did what I had to do. But I'm still the same guy. I'm still Chuck. I promise." He's rambling like always. And it suddenly occurs to me that he was afraid to tell me this. Afraid that I might not like him anymore, might not love him. It makes me want to cry. How could he think that, after all he's done for me, after all the times he's saved me, I would let this change anything?

I search for the right words. I try to think what the perfect thing to say would be. I can't think of it. But I try anyway.

"You saved me." And I kiss him, just to show him how much it meant. I might not call in a tank, but I like to think that, sometimes, I save him too.

He pulls back and smiles at me. His smile is like the sun. I'm always afraid I'll burn my eyes if I look to long. So I kiss him again. And we're really getting into it when…beep, beep, beep!

Apparently, Beckman wants us back in Burbank. Apparently, Chuck is just not having that.

"I don't…" he starts to ramble.

"Shut up and kiss me." I say it like I've always wanted to. And, it's funny, but all the sudden I really don't hate Paris anymore. Actually, I think I kind of love it. Because, for the first time, there's no missions, no covers, no codenames. There's just me and my Chuck.

And that's absolutely, completely perfect.

A/N: The end! Hope you liked it! Review and stuff.