A/N: Aha! So! We meet again! Many of you have expressed concerns about certain characters not yet appearing in Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles. I understand your concern. Really, I do. Which is why more characters are being introduced as the chapters putter along.

I just hope you all enjoy this chapter. (monocle wink!)

You've all been tremendous with your reviews and I really cannot thank you enough! It keeps the story percolating in my noggin like nothing else! So thank you!

Summary: In 1776, George Washington declared himself King of the United States of America and began turning a new nation into the United States Empire: expanding to the west, amassing colonies and gaining power. Over one hundred years later, the government's secrets are at risk and a new way to keep them safe must be created. When those secrets are accidentally brought to inventor and toy maker Chuck Bartowski's doorstep, his future becomes uncertain as his life fills with adventures, hardships, and even a bit of romance.

Disclaimer: "Chuck" is not mine. Its characters are not mine. Though they might as well be, considering how often I think about them.

(puts on conductor hat) Next stop: Atlanta, Georgia! Toot toot!

Bryce hoisted himself onto the roof of the warehouse and knelt behind the chimney spewing black filth into the polluted, gray sky. He peered around the metal tube and pulled his short top hat lower to cover the tops of his ears.

He scratched at the scraggly beginnings of a beard on his chin and looked out over the landscape of warehouse roofs, factory smokestacks, and abandoned, dilapidated buildings. Finding her would be close to impossible in this mess of a city, but he needed her help. It was an outright pain having to ask her for anything, and he wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't just shoot him on sight. But she was his only hope.

She would help him.

She would have to. He had seen to that ahead of time.

A loud humming pervaded the air, though it was not quite loud enough to drown out the clattering machinery of the factory next door.

Bryce turned his head and spotted the oncoming airship floating menacingly through the thick soot clouds that hung over the ghost city. The smoke layer was thick here. Thicker than most places he had been to.

The words Atlanta Air Patrol were faded on the underbelly of the clunky ship floating above, mud and coal caking the frame, the epitome of an aircraft on its last leg due to negligence. It looked as though it were made by shoddy engineers who stuck pieces of stripped metal and iron bars together, attached steam engines at the bottom, and called it a day. These weren't real patrolmen, but poachers looking for intruders in their territory. Intruders meant an easy and only partially illegal take. And less chance of being caught out by the royal patrol.

Bryce made a mocking sound at the back of his throat and stealthily skirted the side of the roof, using the gutter pipe to drop down to the rickety fire escape at the side of the building. He huddled close to the wall, unseen as the ship chugged past. A man stood on a small platform along the side of the ship, his eyes hidden by dark goggles, a flyer helmet pulled over his head, and a long trench coat wrapped around his tall, lithe form.

Behind those goggles were eyes scanning the rows of abandoned buildings, Bryce knew. And so he pressed himself even closer to the wall, shrouding himself in the shadows.

The airship passed and the humming faded until it was nonexistent. Only then did the IEL agent slip out of the darkness and clamor back up to the roof.

But upon climbing up, he found a fist connecting directly with his jaw.

He flew backwards and almost fell from the roof, but he caught himself against the railing. Holding his jaw, he looked up at his assailant.

Covered head to toe in dark clothing, posed as though ready for a fight, the man who attacked him flashed dangerous blue eyes and surged forward, his fist flying at Bryce's head again, but this time with a knife clutched in his fingers.

Bryce caught his hand and twisted so that his attacker's body was trapped against his. "Now who are you?" Bryce ground out, attempting to hold his assailant tighter as he struggled.

Without responding, the dark man flipped Bryce over his shoulder and slammed him down against the roof. Bryce groaned and turned over, pushing himself to his feet. "A fight, is it?" he murmured, getting into position before lunging forward to elbow the mystery man in the face.

The dark figure twisted away from him and slammed his own elbow into the back of Bryce's head, sending the spy face first into the roof. Enraged, he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the attacker's arm again, catching the glint of the knife in a small hand.

"Just—Just a minute…" he gasped, still trying to catch his breath and pushing the mystery attacker back a safe distance.

His assailant stopped but kept his knife at the ready. "The Ice Queen."

His attacker reached up and tugged the black mask from her face, revealing golden hair bound by a leather tie at the back of her head, full lips, and perfectly shaped, and now arched, eyebrows. Her blue-gray eyes flashed. "What the devil are you doing here, Bryce Larkin?" she snapped. "We had a deal. You were supposed let me the cuss alone and continue your pointless, law-sucking existence."

"Wasn't really a deal, I'd say. And why'd you attack me?" he snapped back, rolling his aching shoulder and trying to ignore the taste of blood in his mouth.

She kicked his hat across the roof to him and nearly growled, sheathing her knife in a black leather ankle holster. "All I knew was some ass in a hat was encroaching on my mission. I didn't know you were the ass. Although I should have known by your lousy taste in hats. And don't forget the last time we met you tried to put me in cuffs, you bastard."

Bryce glumly picked up the hat and shined it on his coat sleeve. "Aren't you charming, Miss Walker?" he said sarcastically. "So…who's the mark this time? Some industry mogul? Nobody else is here 'cepting crime bosses. Have you fallen so far that you're working for them again?" He regretted his words instantly when she pulled her knife again, fire in her eyes. He cursed himself. Way to start things off on the right foot, numbskull.

"That's none of your concern. Now get out of here before I kill you."

"Ha. Kill me. You're still quite the wit, Sarah."

She tilted her head and looked him up and down with none of the admiration he was hoping for. "And you're still living bottle to bottle, I see. Not much has changed then, I suppose."

Bryce felt a pang of anger but fought it back. He needed her help. And snapping at her wouldn't bring her onboard any faster than if he pointed a gun at her head. "I suppose I won't help you, then."

"I don't need or want your help. I was doing just fine. Now, actually, I'm behind schedule. So thank you." She turned and skulked towards the edge of the building, nonchalantly stepping off.

Bryce hurried to where she had just disappeared and peeked over the edge to see her climbing down the fire escape. "Hold on. Where are you going?"

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Came to look for you, actually. As chance would have it, you found me." He hopped down just as she had and followed her.

"Why were you looking for me? I'm not going to prison. Not again. I told you I'd kill you if I ever saw you again and I meant it." As she reached the ground, she quickly slid the mask back down over her head, obscuring her blonde hair and beautiful features behind the black cloth. Now Bryce could definitely tell she was a woman, and not just any woman—a perfectly built woman. Almost like she was manufactured in a woman factory.

He had allowed himself to forget how incredibly attractive Sarah Walker was over the last few years. He remembered now. Oh, how he remembered.

Although with the deft flick of her wrist that he barely saw and the way her knife pressed into his jugular once his feet touched dirt, Bryce rather forgot again.

"I asked you why you are looking for me." Her tone suggested she knew exactly what was distracting him and did not appreciate it at all.

"Can't a fellow look for his old nemesis without arousing suspicion? Same old Walker."

"Same old Larkin," she shot back without the teasing tone he had used. She was talking through her teeth, which he imagined was never a good sign. "You're still a terrible liar. And you smell."

"Well, in my defense, you never gave me much of a chance—what with the numerous tactics you employed to distract me. And I don't smell, Sarah…" He reached out and took her wrist in his hand, trying to push his fingers up her sleeve to feel her skin. But she whipped her hand away, made a fist with it, and slammed it straight into his gut.

"Don't you touch me. I thought we established that whole mess was a mistake. It is over. It has been over. I got what I needed. You're still alive. You got to keep your job. Just tell me what you want and let me do my job," she growled.

He pondered over how easily she seemed to move past their short-lived, three day affair. He had finally caught up to the skilled confidence-woman after having pursued her for months. It had been like two steam engine locomotions slamming together. And it had ended just as dramatically. With a great deal of casualties, Bryce's pride being the biggest of them, in his personal opinion.

But that was years ago now. It had been a bit harder for him to move on after he let her go. Perhaps a part of him still hadn't. She had quite a few fine qualities he couldn't quite forget.

"Fine, fine…" He clutched at his stomach and stood up with a wince. "Damn it, Walker. Still pack a mean fist."

"That's not the only thing I'm packing," she warned, twisting the knife in her palm so that light glinted off the blade. As always. "Quit with the boat-licking and talk."

"Alright!" He held his hands up in surrender. "I need your help."

"My help? We don't exactly work on the same side of the law." She rolled her eyes when he didn't answer. "With what? A mission? Don't you have a partner or something? Someone being paid by Her Majesty to mow over the helpless and needy in the name of the Empire?"

He wanted to laugh. Since when did the Ice Queen care about the helpless and needy? As she traveled through America's cities, stuffing her purse full of stolen goodies. Sure. The helpless and the needy.

"No. I don't. And it isn't a mission. At least, it's nothing that the Imperial Espionage League knows about."

She stopped her stalking and turned from where she was pressed against the wall. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he spied some curiosity. It was definitely there. He had her. "Something personal? I'm not sure what that might be, but I don't much give a clump of horse crud, either way. I think I should just kill you now."

"Please, Sarah. Just listen to me. Give me a minute. One minute." She just stared at him for a long moment, then sighed and dropped her shoulders. He smiled gratefully and crossed his arms. He explained to her about Chuck, about the Intersect and how he thought his old friend had inadvertently absorbed all of the government's best-guarded secrets and information on foreign intelligence operations. She was a thief, a fraud, the most enigmatic being on the face of this planet, and almost definitely a ruthless murderess, but he had no choice but to trust her with this. He knew he was taking a risk based on a few measly days of passion, and even those seemed questionable in light of this situation, but she was his only option. Bryce Larkin wasn't the type of man who made friends easily, and Sarah Walker was the only person he knew of whom he had dirt on. She was it. Or no one.

At least, until Bryce could find a better way out of this unholy mess.

"Are you telling me that some man who plays with toys for a living has the government's filthiest secrets in his head?" she whispered. Despite not being a government agent, she obviously knew enough to speak in low tones when discussing something this sensitive.

"I believe so, yes. And they think I have it instead."

"Because you brought P534 in?"

"Yes. And as long as they think I am the Intersect, Chuck is safe."

"Why are you telling me any of this? I don't need to know. I don't want to know. This is the kind of mess that could get me killed…finally." Bryce wished he could see her face again. He almost answered, but she continued, her eyes pointing somewhere over his shoulder. "Don't you think that it's rather important that the IEL knows about…this…Chuck fellow? I mean, this sounds just slightly important. Maybe you can take him to your secret spy headquarters where he belongs. Then I can continue on my merry way and pretend I never heard any of this." There she was again, thinking about herself. It was a constant theme with this woman. He still wondered how he had ever escaped their torrid affair without her murdering him in his sleep. Especially because he knew her real name. Or at least…she gave him a name. A name besides the Ice Queen.

But she didn't know Chuck. She didn't know how important it was for Chuck to…stay the way he was. Perhaps if she met him, she would understand. She was observant enough. And brilliant at reading people.

What he wasn't sure of was whether or not Sarah Walker still had a heart. It was a cruel thing for him to ponder over, but she was more barb than anything else. And he had heard things about her since the last time he saw her. Things that weren't exactly complimentary.

"That's exactly what I don't want, Sarah. I need to keep him away from the government. Away from the directors. Away from the bosses. The damned scientists and doctors. Away from our illustrious Queen's grasp."

He felt her frown behind her mask. "Bryce, this is more important than your connection to your…boon companion. If the Intersect is found by one of the numerous terrorist groups that threaten the queen's reign, that threaten the stability of this country's survival in a world that is, as we speak, being torn apart by war…everything will change. This whole world might be lost under the tyrannical reign of some bastard with an affinity for death and destruction." Well she certainly had imagination. He would give her that much. "And you want to protect one person? The lives of millions are on the line here, including mine, thank you," she argued, seeming confused that he was even considering anything else.

Bryce was becoming less impressed by the second. Her selfishness wasn't particularly shocking. But it was still depressing. The Ice Queen's words were nothing if not true, though. He had to admit.

The Intersect falling into the wrong hands could mean the end of everything. The end of the world, even. As incredibly melodramatic as it sounded, it was true. But Chuck would be safest if he were hidden not just from terrorists, but the government who would have no qualms about using the Intersect for its own devices, whether it was ethical or not.

The young spy had learned long ago that ethics were ambiguous anyway, especially these days when a government preached morality publicly, while privately massacring the citizens in a colony thousands of miles away. He had seen it done by other nations, other empires, and he lived in fear of the day when he would be the one doing it for his own empire.

And yet, he was desperate to protect Chuck. And if Chuck was safe, the Intersect was safe. He had to make Sarah see it, and if he couldn't do that, then he would move on to his last resort. And there was a chance he might be killed in the process.

Bryce made an attempt at appealing to her humanity. If she had any left. She hadn't killed him yet so that was something.

"He saved me. And he was my only friend—is my only friend. Hell, he's almost a brother. Sarah, you don't understand. They'll change him. They'll make him into some…some machine that follows orders—like me!" He threw his arms out and looked down at himself. "And look how I turned out, huh?" Bryce didn't see any of the sympathy or pity he was looking for in her pretty eyes. She was a blank canvas…as always. And not for the first time, he wondered what her story was. How she got to be this way. It wasn't surprising that Sarah Walker was a criminal. Many ended up as criminals. Especially when you were born into poverty. It was crime or starvation with no in between. Black and white with no gray area.

She was lucky in that she got to be in a position, for the most part, where she was her own boss. Bryce had no idea what she had to do to get there, and that was the part that made him feel more than a little unsettled in her company. Even when they had been intimate. He had been young and stupid. Very stupid. But perhaps now he could use it to his advantage—to Chuck's advantage.

"He's not made out to be a spy," Bryce continued. "He's—He's a genuinely good person. And you know how rare that is these days."

"Bryce, you—"

"Sarah, the further away from this life he is, the happier he'll be—the longer he'll stay alive! Chuck won't last out here. He won't last outside of his Buy More bubble. He's incapable of it. He's weak."

She snorted a little. "And this is how you speak of your brother? Precious."

"It's the truth. He's been sheltered. He knows nothing of the world we live in."

"Oh, shove it, you bastard. You don't know me or my life. Don't clump us together in the same category, as though you understand where I came from and what I'm doing here," she snapped. Her temper was shortening by the moment, he could see. That was not a great sign.

"And anyways, he won't be that way for long," she continued. "There is no hiding from reality, Agent Larkin. No hiding from the harsh truths of life. A time will come when he will be forced to come to terms with the ways of the world. Whether he's pulled into it by the government…or by you. This damnable planet we live on takes no prisoners. You know that better than most people, Bryce. Isn't that the reason why you're always drowning in drink? Why most people are?" Her eyes narrowed and a flash of pain was there, for only a moment, not long enough for Bryce to notice it. And if he had, he would assume that pain was sympathy, sympathy for his plight, for his malady. But he would be wrong. "He has to get used to it, just like the rest of us. He will assimilate, and learn to do whatever he has to to survive," she said with no amount of spite in her words. It was the way it was. And he suspected she had come to terms with it long ago, just as he had. And maybe that was why he still felt that connection to her, slight as it was. She understood what it was to be depressingly alone. Did it bother her as much as it did him?

"He won't. Look, the man has a hard time killing spiders that crawl into his room. He slips them onto a tray and takes them outside. Imagine how easily he would be killed in the field, where a moment's hesitation on his part would give an enemy ample opportunity to put a bullet through his brain."

"He—"

"He saved my life once. Now it's my turn to save his."

Sarah sighed. "I don't owe you anything except a blade in your back once and for all…but…I might be somewhat curious as to what you expect me to do with all of this information."

He watched her eyes, since they were the only part of her he could see. They had softened in spite of everything. He couldn't read her, even after everything they'd been through. But he hoped perhaps that she may have been warmed by his affection for his friend. Then again, this was Sarah Walker…and not much warmed the infamous Ice Queen.

"I want you to protect him."

"Pardon?"

"Please, Sarah. I've seen you fight. I've seen you handle a sword. Weapons in general. And you are a professional at blending into any situation."

"I'm a con artist. It's part of the job," she said softly, her eyes wide with shock. She shook her head a little and the anger returned. "I have plenty of other ways to spend my time instead of babysitting a grown man who plays with toys, thank you." She wasn't moved by his praise at all. Obviously.

"Like swindling and otherwise bamboozling grown men?"

"Maybe." Her eyes brimmed with a smirk. "I have a potential mark in Louisiana. A widower. Easy take. Safe. And I do not particularly relish missing it."

"Damn it, Sarah. Will you think about someone besides yourself for once?"

She took a step closer to him, her eyes flashing angrily, then she whipped off her mask again. "No! No, I will not!" she whispered harshly. "Because if I don't think about myself, no one else will. It means I've let my guard down. And the last time that happened, I ended up in a prison cell for three months. So, no."

"That's a dismal way to look at life."

"Yes, well…life is dismal, isn't it? If it wasn't, I would be in a damned palace somewhere licking pomegranate juice from my fingers and drinking champagne." She slipped the mask over her head again with an angry tug and turned away, leaning forward to peek around the corner.

"You seem stressed. I mean, more than usual. It seems to me you would do well to take a bit of a vacation, Walker. That's all I'm offering you. A vacation."

"Stop it, Larkin. I'm in no mood for games. I still know over two hundred ways to kill you with my bare hands."

"If you do this, if you protect Chuck, I will make sure you are compensated. Well. More than if you hornswoggle that Louisiana widower you told me about. You will get paid, Chuck will be safe. It's a win-win situation."

"That's just fine, Agent Larkin. But I will be stuck in Los Angeles protecting a toymaker from an incredibly well-stacked government agency. One person against a slew of Factory-trained agents. That's asking for death. I've asked for plenty of things in my time, but not death. Never death. I am not doing it. They find out Sarah Walker is the Ice Queen and I will be put in prison for life, if not tortured and killed."

"Sarah, you're Chuck's only hope!"

"Oh, please." She strode away from him down the alleyway and into the road, looking both ways before trotting around the corner and halting again, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the street in front of her.

Bryce followed close behind, realizing he hadn't been successful. This wasn't something he really wanted to do, but to save Chuck…

He took a deep breath and stole himself.

"I know about your father."

She stopped as though she had just run into an invisible wall and turned on him. Very slowly. Her eyes were dark swirling pools of cobalt blue. There was legitimate hatred there, and something much more frightening and dangerous—a tinge of fear that she covered quickly. He watched her fingers twitch towards the knife against her thigh. "What did you just say?"

"Your father. I know what happened in Argentina." He fought to keep from gulping, feeling sweat begin to drip down his back. What had he just done? He watched her eyes widen, then narrow menacingly. He stood ramrod straight, trying in vain to fight off his nerves.

"Are you blackmailing me?" Her voice was slow…deep…dangerous. Her knife slowly slid from the holster and she held it at her side.

"Yes. I am." He paused. "You go to Los Angeles and protect Chuck, or the bosses will have a telegram on their desks in three days detailing your father's whereabouts in Europe, with the name Sarah Walker scrawled in pretty letters at the bottom. The true identity of the Ice Queen…imagine what it will mean to them."

The knife was at his cheek and in less time than that, she spun him so that his front was pressed against the wall, his arm twisted painfully behind his back. "Or I could kill you, Agent Larkin, like I should have years ago."

"You can't," he ground out, tasting the grime of the wall as she pressed his face into it. He could feel the weight of his pistol in his jacket. If he could just get to it without her knowing…

"Can't I?" A drop of blood from where her knife pierced his tender skin ran down into his shirt collar. "Just an inch deeper and your pretty face won't be so pretty anymore. Are you sure you would like to take that risk?"

"Sarah, you won't kill me."

"Who says I won't?"

"You care about me. I can see it." He couldn't see it. Nor could he feel it as she twisted his arm roughly. Wrong thing to say, he realized belatedly.

"You sack of horse shit—"

"Sarah, please. Please." He almost had his fingers around the pistol…

"You know about my father. About me. You are a liability. And you know what I do to liabilities."

"You kill a royal agent and your crimes as the Ice Queen won't be the only things held over your head by the government."

"That's only if they find your body, you lousy piss pot. Even if I don't kill you, you tell them who I am and they won't believe you. People have been turning innocent women in as the Ice Queen from the very beginning."

"Sarah, you broke your father out of an Argentine prison. You'll be put in jail, and no one will be able to get you out this time. Maybe with good behavior…if you try to stay out of those prison fights. But then again, you are the Ice Queen…so perhaps not. I'm imagining someone with your record would be locked away in isolation."

His hand was around the gun, but he stayed still. There was a chance he wouldn't need to use it. A small chance. A microscopic chance. But it was there. Hopefully.

She was silent, her beautiful blue eyes cloudy and full of anger. "What if I fail? What if he dies?"

"The letter will be on Graham's desk in a matter of days."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed again.

"You will regret this," she said in a low, dangerous voice. Bryce was well-aware of what the Ice Queen was capable of. Many a dead body had been left in her wake. But Sarah Walker would do anything to survive. And for now, her survival depended on Chuck's. He had never seen her murder anyone, but he knew she had. He had too, but he had the law on his side.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said in relief as she stepped back and let him turn to face her. Just as his fingers slipped away from his gun, her fist swung in a beautiful arc and slammed into his jaw. He staggered back but didn't fall, instead holding his face in surprise and pain.

"I'm not doing this for you," she said in an acidic voice. "I'm doing it for the money. And there better be a lot of it. In fact, I'd like to see some of it now if it wouldn't be too much trouble. You'll pardon me if I don't trust you after you've just blackmailed me with mine and my father's freedom."

"Now?"

Her knife was out again and he almost rolled his eyes. "A show of good faith, as it were."

Bryce went into his coat pocket and pulled half of the wad out, keeping the rest safely tucked away inside where she couldn't get at it. "This should be enough for now. You can trust me, Sarah. All I want is for my friend to be alright. I know you don't believe me. But you can trust me."

Sarah tentatively reached out to take the wad of bills, sheathing her knife before putting away her payment.

"You aren't going to check to see how much is there?" he asked.

"No. I'm not. That's my show of good faith. I suppose it goes both ways. Even though you're a blackmailing son of a bitch." She eyed him in slight disgust.

Bryce wondered if he was making a mistake, but he shook the thought off. Nothing was more important to the Ice Queen than her freedom and survival. He held both of those over her head. She had no choice but to comply. When she met Chuck, she would see why he was worth protecting. Anyone like him, like Ellie even, as both of the Bartowskis were such a rare and special breed, needed to be safeguarded from the evils of the world.

There was no one more capable of doing just that than Sarah Walker. Even though she was one of those evils, a voice in Bryce's head informed him. He shook that thought off. She wouldn't hurt Chuck. Perhaps Sarah Walker might have a frozen heart, but she had a fully functioning brain. And she knew how important it was to keep the Intersect hidden.

And if that meant Chuck was safe for the time being, Bryce was satisfied.

"As long as Chuck is alive, I'll have no regrets," he finally said resolutely.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "You had better hope not."

}o{

Two days later, Sarah Walker, criminal mastermind con-woman extraordinaire, skilled in the art of acting and just about any type of fighting, knife-wielding, and shooting, watched as Bryce Larkin, her once nemesis and lover (both at the same time), boarded the zeppelin S.S. Imelda bound for New York, where it would pick up more passengers and thereafter head to France.

She gripped at her skirts as she ran, her free hand clutching onto her pistol when she turned into a hallway that stopped at a dead end. She tried the door on her right but it was locked. The door on her left was locked as well. So she turned to face the window at the end of the hall and darted towards it, pulling back the curtain.

Moonlight flooded in, battling against the shadows cast over the mahogany floors beneath her boots. Her feet ached, but she couldn't stop. Not now.

Not when he had her right where he wanted her.

"Well, well, Sarah Walker," she heard him goad from behind her. He was trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath, but she knew better, and she smirked to herself even though she was in a dangerous predicament.

"Who's Sarah Walker? I'm Lara Tallis," she chirped.

"Drop the act, Sarah."

She turned and pointed her gun at his head, knowing full well that he already had his own gun leveled at her. "What act, Bryce?"

"I didn't wanna hurt you, but you left me no choice." His eyes shone in sincerity but she scoffed at him, shaking her head and tightening her grip on the pistol.

"You are an idiot, aren't you? I bet you have, what, six…seven IEL operatives in this building right now, combing each floor to find me. That is why you're here, right? A delay tactic until they come to arrest me?" She clenched her jaw and raised an eyebrow. "And you really think I will make it that easy? When I get out of here, if I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

"I tricked you and you're sore, aren't you?" His smirk was infuriating.

"Not as sore as you're gonna be when I'm through with you, you son of a bi—" A crash sounded on the floor below, a door being kicked in perhaps. Sarah looked down the hallway behind Bryce and bit her lip. For a moment, she pondered what it would be like in a windowless room with nothing but four walls for the rest of what would be her short life. If she wasn't immediately hanged or shot. Or worse…they had a poison they might inject—

Her thoughts stilled as Bryce lowered the gun.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, her brow furrowed in confusion.

He tilted his head at her. There was amusement there, and a sparkle of something else, something she couldn't read.

"What?" she asked through her teeth, a little breathless. She kept the gun trained on him just as steadily as before, though…just in case.

"Go."

"Are you mad?" she whispered savagely.

"The world is a more exciting place for a fellow like me when women like you are loose." He holstered his pistol and shrugged. "I will catch you again, though, make no mistake, Miss Walker."

"You let me go out that window and I owe you nothing, you hear me?"

He only shrugged again.

"You crazy bastard." She heard thumping on the stairs and didn't look back as she wrapped her fist in material from her dress and shattered the window with a quick punch. She swung through it and clamored up the drain pipe into the shadows. To freedom.

As the zeppelin rose into the sky and slowly moved east across the barren southern landscape, Sarah felt strange. It was not anything she could explain—just a sort of feeling that meant something was changing.

Her life as she knew it was changing.

She would be bound for Los Angeles within the hour, and would be rid of the industrial, polluted city of Atlanta, along with its rebel leaders and tyrant crime lords.

At least her mark would be easy.

A toymaker.

She scoffed to herself and turned away, not bothering to look at the S.S. Imelda again. She had a long journey ahead of her and she had preparations to make.

A/N: Ahhh, you can all breathe easy now. She's here. All I can say is I really and sincerely hope that this was worth the wait for you lovely readers.

Let me know and review!

Because, you know, that would be grand and all that...