Title: Chuck vs. the Wildcat 12/12
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: It's the 1870s in the American Southwest. Charles "Chuck" Bartowski, after avenging the death of his sister, has fallen in with gunslinger John Casey. There's a range war in El Dorado, and Chuck finds himself on one side of the war. And on that side is a woman named Sarah Walker.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or El Dorado. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: At the end of the story this time. I finished this epilogue faster than I thought I would, so I decided to share it with you today, as a birthday gift from me to all of you!
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Epilogue: If You Seek for Eldorado!
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Dear Devon,
I'm not much of a correspondent, yet it's comforting with all your talents that you're an even worse one. Since I haven't gotten a reply to my last letter, I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. Of course, in all the time I've known you, you've never been in bad spirits, but you know what I mean.
In my last letter, I wrote to you about a woman I had met named Sarah Walker. Since then, my feelings for Sarah have deepened, and thanks to some quirk of luck, she has also discovered feelings for me.
I'm proud to announce that Sarah and I were married last week, in a small ceremony in El Dorado. It was a beautiful wedding, with most of the town turning out to enjoy the celebration. My new friend Morgan stood up as my best man, and Sarah was given away by her father. She surprised me by wearing a dress for the ceremony; to be honest, I half-expected her to wear pants to her own wedding! Not that I would have complained about this, since I think she's the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what she wears.
Once again, I want to thank you for letting me take Ellie's locket when I left California. Your generosity has always been a quality I've tried to imitate. I have given her locket to Sarah, who wears it on a chain she received from her mother. The woman I love has a memento from the woman who was sister and mother to me: that seems very fitting.
Sarah's father has been very generous to us, providing us with a large parcel of land and thirty cattle, as well as a gift of gold. I still think El Dorado is the place for me, yet it remains to be seen if we'll settle there permanently. Sarah has always wanted to travel, and with the money from her father (part dowry, part wages for Sarah's years of work for him), we intend to spend the next year on an extended wedding trip.
Tonight, I write you from the train to New Orleans, which is the first city we will visit on our holiday. Then, we will travel to Chicago, and then-California! And that, Devon, is where you come in. I want nothing more than to introduce my wife to you, the man who is the closest I've ever come to having a brother.
We will be in New Orleans for a month, and then will head to Chicago. You can write me there, care of the Hyde Park House, 53rd Street. Please write to me, Devon, so we can continue our trip to California with the anticipation of visiting you.
"Chuck?"
"I'm nearly done, Sarah," he said, keeping his head down as he wrote each word carefully. With the jostling of the train, it was difficult to keep his penmanship legible.
His wife-and it was very strange and very wonderful to call Sarah that-sighed softly.
"I promise, give me one more minute-" Chuck glanced at her, an apologetic look on his face, only to freeze.
In the week that they had been married, he had already learned many things about Sarah Bartowski. Her favorite beverage was milk with chocolate stirred into it until the two ingredients melded into a rich, creamy drink. She didn't like mornings, even with all her years of getting up at the dawn. And she had a soft side that she kept hidden from everyone but him.
She also delighted in making him gawp like a fish at her beauty and wit. That was the only explanation for the sight of Sarah in a long white silk nightdress. One that hugged her curves and left her arms completely bare. One with a plunging neckline, revealing the heart-shaped locket resting near the gentle swells of her cleavage.
Her smile was soft, loving, and completely devilish. "Do you like my nightgown?"
Chuck could only nod dumbly. Her smile widened. "Gertrude gave it to me. She said it'd be useful to have somethin' like this when my husband thought he was too busy for me." Her cheeks turned pink when she spoke the word "husband"; they were both still getting used to their new status.
Swallowing, Chuck set down his pen and stood up. "You know I'm never too busy for you."
"Mmm, good answer, Chuck." Sarah sauntered over to him, swinging her hips-how had she figured out such movement turned him to jelly?-and leaned up to kiss him softly.
He sighed against her lips. "Sarah . . ."
She brushed her nose against his. "Come to bed, Chuck. The letter can wait."
"I need to give Devon plenty of time to respond, or else we'll arrive in Chicago and spend weeks needlessly waiting for word about whether he can see us when we visit California . . ." Chuck protested.
Sarah arched an eyebrow at him. "One day's wait on this letter is gonna mean weeks of waitin' for us?"
"It could," he said weakly, something in him not ready to give in to her. Not just yet. Not without making her feel a little of what he was feeling now. This tingling, exciting anticipation of what was to come.
The snicker that Sarah let out was rich with amusement. "Uh-huh." She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, and sighed heavily and dramatically. "I suppose I'll just hafta find somethin' to do while you finish your letter."
Alarm bells went off in Chuck's head. This could go very badly. "Like . . . what?"
"Oh, I dunno. Maybe put on a robe and go down to that glassed-in observation car. Take in the landscape in the moonlight. Bet that would be real nice."
The challenge in her voice made Chuck smile slowly. That was the last thing she wanted, he knew-and she knew that he knew that. She was baiting him, and he loved it.
Slowly, he leaned down and started kissing along her jaw. "Not that nice. Not when you're all alone." He reached the spot just under her ear, the one that made her melt against him whenever he kissed it. He wasted no time in pressing an open-mouthed kiss to that very spot.
Sarah let out a breathy moan, and her hands reached out to grip his shoulders. "You could come with me . . . it'd be nice an' romantic."
"Mmm, you're right, Mrs. Bartowski," he said, nuzzling her neck.
"Finest words in all of the English language," Sarah murmured, her body swaying against his.
Chuck lifted his head and looked at her with a smile. "'You're right', I guess?"
Sarah shook her head and gazed up at him. "No. 'Mrs. Bartowski'."
He felt a wave of pure, uncontained love for her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close to him and rested his forehead against hers. "Now who's the one being sweet?"
"You keep findin' ways to rub off on me," Sarah said, her voice a soft whisper, but with a hint of something darker and richer. Hinting at the secret pleasures they had discovered with each other.
A response that was frankly quite dirty and unexpected leaped into his mind. He opened his mouth to risk saying it, then stopped and grinned at her. Sliding his hand into her hair and cupping the back of her head, he kissed her slowly and deeply, letting his body say what he was still a touch too shy to say with words.
As always, Sarah responded with fire, pulling him in against her and wrapping her arms around his neck. She took a step backwards and tugged on him, navigating them both towards the bed without breaking the kiss. He went with her, his free hand sliding up and down her side, feeling the silk move against her skin.
Just as he was ready to lower her to the bed, a staccato knock on the door interrupted them. A brisk, cheerful voice called out, "Mail call! Any letters to be posted at the next station, please. Mail call!"
Sarah looked up at him, her eyes dark blue pools. "Don't you wanna make mail call, Chuck?" she asked softly, her fingers playing with the curls on the back of his neck.
He gazed at her, marveling yet again at this beautiful, strong, amazing woman. The woman that he had in his arms, the woman who seemed so thrilled to be there. Nothing else could match her appeal. It was time to show her that, once again.
"Waiting a day won't hurt," he said before he kissed her slowly. She held him tightly as she responded, her mouth warm and soft against his. Gently, he lowered them both to the bed, his hands starting to roam over her body.
She broke away with a gasp, taking a deep breath. "You sure 'bout that? Just imagine all that waitin' in Chicago . . ."
"We'll find something to do," he said, grinning at her.
Sarah let out a soft, tiny giggle as she flushed. No one would ever believe that the Wildcat giggled like a schoolgirl. But Chuck knew that she did, and he knew he could make that happen. But her giggle didn't compare to other sounds she could make, so Chuck decided to forget about the letter for now and focus on eliciting each of the wonderful noises he knew could be drawn from his wife.
XXX
If you couldn't guess by the change in my handwriting, Devon, I had to interrupt this letter mid-stream. This interruption has only hardened my resolve to see you again. It's been too long since we saw each other or had any real contact. I don't know whether the distance between us is because of my pursuit of Ellie's killers, but I'd like us to resolve whatever has created this lack of communication between us.
And I want you to meet my wife and see how wonderful she is. If nothing else, I want you to be able to gloat over how right you were, when you used to speak about how someday I'd meet the right woman and everything I found so distasteful when it was you courting Ellie would suddenly become very interesting.
Please respond as quickly as you're able, Devon. I look forward to your reply.
With great affection, I remain
Your almost-brother, Charles Bartowski
Chuck finished the letter with a flourish and wrapped it in another sheet of paper as its envelope. He carefully wrote Devon's address on the front and sealed the envelope with a blob of sealing wax, before setting the letter down carefully on the desk.
Turning in his chair, he looked over towards the bed, its sheets tumbled and dragging onto the floor. Sarah was spread out across it, the soft gas light flickering over her skin. Smiling slowly, Chuck stood and walked over to the bed, carefully shifting her body to allow him to slide back into the bed. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, drawing her close to him.
"Mmmm . . ." she murmured softly.
"Go back to sleep, Sarah," he whispered, cuddling her.
She relaxed against him, her body softening as she slipped back into her slumber. Chuck smiled and closed his eyes, resting his face against her hair.
They had their whole lives ahead of them, but for now, life was this bed. He couldn't think of a better place to be than right here.
Lulled by the gentle rocking of the train, Chuck let himself drift off to sleep, looking forward to what happy dreams he might have. Dreams that all centered about his wildcat, his wife, his Sarah.
End.
Author's Note 2: Well, this is the end. The story that I originally thought would just be a couple of chapters morphed into something bigger, but I love how this story turned out. Even with the continuity errors that crept in at places-errors that I will be fixing soon, I promise!
I want to thank everyone who's been reading this story, left reviews or recommended it. Your enjoyment has kept me going when the going got tough, and I'm so glad to have shared this story with all of you!
If you're a fan of my story Discovering Omaha, I'm happy to say that the first chapter of the sequel, Building Rome, will be appearing sometime in the next few weeks. I'm really excited to continue that story!
Will there be a sequel to Chuck vs. the Wildcat? I don't know. I never say never, but I do like how I've wrapped up this story. So we'll see, but I think Building Rome has precedence over any other plot bunnies. Thanks again for reading!