Chapter 8 – Sarah Takes a Breath
A.N.: Disclaimers in Chapter 1. How is Sarah doing as a bridesmaid?
Just wanted to take a minute to thank my faithful reviewers for their kindness and their support. It's always gratifying to know you have an audience, and even more so when they're just so…awesome. ;) We're closing in on the end of the episode, but trust me, a lot can happen between now and then. I'm thinking about four more full chapters, and three or four segments to the epilogue. :) Thanks again, and enjoy…
Sarah smiles and shakes hands with the parade of well-wishers in the receiving line, heaving a sigh of relief as the last guests disburse. (If I had to smile or shake hands for another minute, I might have had to kill someone.) She catches sight of Chuck turning away to approach Morgan and sighs again. (Damn it. I have to go with the bridesmaids...)
On cue, Bridesmaid #1 (Marcy?) calls after her. "Sarah, come on!"
(Damn it.) "Coming!" She hikes up the dress to slog through the sand to the waiting limo. (And here we go...) She enters with a smile and settles in on the sideways facing seat, kicking off her shoes as the other women had. (Oh, that feels so good...) She wiggles her toes in gratitude and does a couple of neck rolls.
"Limbering up for the bouquet?" teases #2 (Annie?). "Got plans for Chuckles?"
Sarah fights off the low growl, and summons a smile instead. "You mean Chuck?"
"Oh, whatever, it's just a nickname," she giggles in response.
#3 (April, I'm pretty sure of that one) obviously has more sense than #2 and jumps in. "Annie is just teasing, Sarah. We were just wondering, that's all." It's said with a smile, helping Sarah to stand down a bit.
(These are Ellie's friends, Walker. You can't kill them. And look at you, addressing yourself as Walker. Good thing this is you in your own head...) She smiles sheepishly. (That ought to help.) "Well, it's...complicated." (Oh, how original. At least when they talk to Ellie, it'll be a consistent answer.)
April looks at her questioningly. "Really? Because the looks you two were giving each other didn't seem complicated at all..." She smiles at Sarah again as Marcy and Annie giggle and nod.
Sarah takes a deep breath and registers, to her alarm, (I'm blushing! Damn it, Walker! You do not blush!)
The laughter of the other bridesmaids brings Sarah back to herself even as it confirms her fear. (Well, at least they aren't-)
"Blushing isn't an answer!" Annie adds in a singsongy voice, "Chuck and Sarah, sitting in a tree..."
The other two join her, serenading Sarah through their laughter. Her blush obviously grows as they cackle with laughter barely through the first verse. "Wow, you've got it bad," Marcy says knowingly.
(You have no idea.) Sarah smiles and ducks her head to hide the blush, which somehow satisfies them.
"Anyway, did you see Devon's frat brothers? Break me off a piece of, hell, any of them!" laughs Annie. The other bridesmaids are happy to discuss the merits of the groomsmen, leaving Sarah to her thoughts.
(A little too late for regrets there, Walker, don't you think?) She leans her head back and notices in her periphery an open bottle of champagne. (Ah...a little bubbly goes a long way with these girls, I'm guessing.) She examines them more assessingly. (Yeah, it all fits their behavior. Well, that's helpful.) She snags a glass and the bottle and helps herself, barely restraining herself from gulping the contents of her flute down like a shot.
(Can I really do this? Am I ready for life without the CIA?) She looks at the bridesmaids, chatting cheerfully about absolutely nothing more serious than reality TV. (Essentially more than ten years of your life spent with the agency, and you're throwing it away for a computer geek?) Her brows furrow as she realizes the voice of doubt sounds alarmingly like her own.
(No, not just a computer geek, and it's nerd, actually.) She sips slowly and closes her eyes. (It's Chuck, the unlikely hero, the guy who remembers to say no olives every single time when I didn't even tell him once, the only guy I've ever known who can make me want him by making me laugh.) She doesn't register the silence in the limo immediately, but her eyes pop open as soon as she does. (Damn it!)
All three bridesmaids are looking at her with knowing smiles.
"You've got to be thinking about Chuck," teases April, "because your smile puts the Cheshire cat to shame."
(Oh crap. Oh crap? Seriously? Your internal monologue even sounds like Chuck!) She shakes her head slowly. (If ever there was a moment...it's what they want to hear anyway...) "Okay, fine! I'm hopelessly head over heels."
(Holy crap you just said that out loud!)
Sarah takes a deep shaky breath. (Whoa. That felt…good.) This time she does gulp down the champagne.
(But you still need to say it to the one who needs to hear it.)
Right on cue again, the limo arrives at Casa Bartowski. (There's really no turning back once you tell him, you know...)
At that thought, Sarah steps out of the limo with another Cheshire cat smile. (In the words of the groom...awesome.)
She walks into the courtyard and slowly grinds to a halt. (Wow.) White Christmas lights criss-cross the courtyard, paper lanterns hanging at various intervals between. (It looks like a fairy tale…Oh, Chuck…) Smooth jazz seems to drift in from all directions as people mingle with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Sarah forgets all about the cover, the CIA, and the complications as she walks further into the casual wonderland Chuck arranged.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comes a voice from the shadows on her right.
(Damn it! You totally lost yourself right there.) She turns and schools her features into a smile as she watches Stephen Bartowski approach. "Hi, I didn't see you there."
"I know," he replies with a smile. He hands her a champagne flute and clinks his own lightly against it before he sips. "That was the point."
(Okay…?) "Did you enjoy the ceremony?" she asks, sipping from her own in return.
"Which, the first one, or the second?" He laughs. "The second one was definitely better than the first, I'm getting kind of tired of the intrigue, if you'll allow an old man his faults."
(Doing a bit of digging, Orion?) Sarah raises an eyebrow as she replies, "And why would you say it's a fault?"
"Oh, come now, Sarah, you're," he pauses to glance around the courtyard and assure himself no one is listening, "an agent, intrigue is your bread and butter. Or cereal and milk, in the case of my Charles. It's what you thrive on."
(Are you goading me or do you still not trust me?) She smiles tightly, "Things can change, people change constantly."
"Hmm, some, certainly, but then there are the ones who are just too pure for their own good," he replies, his eyes drifting towards the Morgan Door. "There are some who believe so wholeheartedly in the goodness of the world, and of people, that they can blind themselves to the bad. To the things…and people…who would hurt them." He sips again, smiling blandly.
(If you weren't Chuck's father, I swear…) "And then there are the people who, even seeing the worst parts of humanity, still believe in the best of humanity. They're the best of all of us." Sarah meets Stephen's gaze steadily. (Satisfied?)
He relaxes visibly and smiles genuinely. "That they are, my dear. And thank you for that reminder." He clinks his glass against hers again, "Cheers, Sarah."
(Thank goodness.) She lets her shoulders drop as she too relaxes. "Cheers, to the best of us." She finishes her champagne as she hears a car door slam, followed by familiar voices. Stephen pulls her back with him into the shadows as Chuck walks by, scanning the courtyard as he enters the apartment.
(Huh?) "Um, I'm sorry, is there some reason you pulled me back here?"
"Oh, that's obvious, Sarah," Stephen says, smoothly exchanging their now empty champagne glasses for full ones. "It's going to take a few more of these to get your guard down enough for you to not hurt my son."
(What?!) She frowns and absently gulps her champagne.
As though hearing the question, he continues. "You haven't completely made your mind up yet, or you would've contacted Beckman."
(What?!) "Excuse me?" she sputters. (How the hell would you...Orion, of course. Obviously. Damn it.)
He smiles as he waits for her to to catch up, and seeing the comprehension, continues again. "I'm just getting you to think as a person, not an agent, so you can figure it out." He clinks his glass against hers yet again, and walks away.
(Damn perceptive Bartowski men.) She drains her glass.
A.N.: The joy of having just enough PapaB in the show is we can all have a little fun with his real personality. Mine's kind of a troublemaker, but someone has to kick Sarah in the ass a little, right? ;) No? I know how you can weigh in -- review! :)