The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: What's weird to me is that while this is a spy story, and there is/will be a lot more spying in it, it's mostly about two people from very different backgrounds in two different worlds finding each other and trying to make it work. So yes, a lot of the chapters will be about them making discoveries, emotionally, mentally, but also physically. It won't always be a walk in the park... they can't walk in the park, a paparazzi might see them and all hell will break loose. ;-) Anyways I hope you all have had a good 2023 so far. Enjoy this chapter!
Summary: Sarah Walker's modeling career is in its budding stages when the CIA recruits her into their ranks at 16. 10 years later, she's balancing being a world famous supermodel and actress with spying for the CIA. Her existence is fraught with danger and she's constantly on the go, until she meets a disarmingly sincere man on the beach...and her life is changed forever.
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I am not making any money writing this story.
Sarah turned her face into the pillow to hide just how hard she was grinning as Chuck Bartowski let his fingertips dance oh so lightly along her back. She felt them like a feather's touch, trailing down her spine, along the rounded edge of a rib and back, down to the valley of her lower back, just shy of letting himself explore even lower than that, before moving up to her shoulders and upper back.
And then he tenderly shifted her hair aside and let his feather's touch play at her neck, right under where her hairline started.
His actions felt so tender. Everything just felt SO tender.
Even when the sex had proceeded and things had become more passionate, heated, even a little wild at certain moments, there was so much tenderness.
She felt herself falling into it, too, even. Instead of grabbing him and going to town the way she wanted to, she felt the need to savor, to let HIM savor, touching and kissing his body with a certain reverence. The need to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her.
For the time being, they were resting. She'd ended up plopped on her stomach on the bed beside him, her face turned away from him so that she could make the awestruck, blissful, overjoyed faces she wasn't so sure she'd be able to hide, even with her acting and spy experience.
Chuck had since rolled onto his side and he was lightly stroking her, sending wondrous shivers through her. She wondered if he could feel how much she was loving being under his fingertips. They traversed the small bumps of her spine with the lightest touch, before moving back up to the nape of her neck and rubbing gently. It felt reverent, but leisurely too.
"Are you asleep?" she heard him whisper tentatively.
She giggled, keeping her eyes shut. "Mm no. Just very, very comfortable."
"Ah. Good." There was a pause. "Me too."
Sarah grinned hard, and when it finally dimmed enough that he wouldn't hear it in her voice, she spoke up again. "You are really good at this whole hospitality thing, Chuck Bartowski. It has to be said."
She felt him shift on the bed and his chuckle sounded closer, like he'd scooted nearer to her. "Um, I assure you I'm not this hospitable with everyone who shows up here, especially at 11 at night."
Sarah winced, finally turning onto her back to look at him. She discovered as she did that he'd moved to lean over her, so that when she moved onto her back, she rolled herself right under him, and he took advantage, lowering his chest onto hers and leaning down to press an exciting kiss to her neck. A shiver went through her again as she giggled. "I'm sorry I showed up so late like this."
"Oh, that's totally fine. Show up at 11, at 2 in the morning, 4, 6, whenever you want." There was something so pure and new about the way Chuck let her see how much he liked her, not guarding himself at all, just showing her his cards, his eagerness to be with her. It made her feel almost overwhelmed by him.
"Careful." She raised her eyebrows teasingly. "I might take you up on that."
"Teasing aside, I wouldn't be at all upset about it." He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, a slow one that made something flutter in her chest. "And you can count on me being this hospitable every single time."
Sarah hummed, her voice crackling in all the right ways. "You promise?"
"Oh, definitely." He paused then, wincing. "Although, it might be good practice to just check and make sure I'm here first. Before you come over, I mean. Not that you aren't invited whenever," he rushed out when she raised one eyebrow in curiosity. "It's just that we're…keeping this a secret. You know? That whole thing where we swore secrecy about this rel…um, this…us." He squirmed in discomfort. "You standing out in the hallway waiting for me to answer the door when I'm not home because I'm working late or gaming with my employees/Morgan or with my sister or something, that seems like we're inviting someone to catch you here. And that would kind of ruin the whole secret part of this. And that seems…important to you for right now."
She pursed her lips. "You're right. Maybe spontaneous decisions to show up unannounced like tonight aren't a great idea. Noted."
"But don't think that means I'm unhappy about tonight. I-I mean, you showing up like this without texting or calling me. I'm so glad you're here." He narrowed his eyes tentatively. "Can I say that? Is that okay?"
"Yes," she said quietly, and then she sighed, playing with the hair on his chest. She felt him shiver against her. She frowned then, catching his curious gaze, reveling in how golden his eyes were in this lighting. "Yet another thing that keeps this…connection between us from being normal. Or, I guess, that keeps us from enjoying this the way most people get to." She smirked wryly. "Showing up whenever we want at one another's places, without checking first."
"Spontaneity?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She furrowed her own brow. "Is that what you're looking for? A little spontaneity in this, how'd you label it? Connection?"
She inwardly winced. The whole label thing was still not something she was all too sure of. And he'd just called her out on it. Maybe he was calling them both out. It made her respect him all the more, and at the same time, she was still afraid to really take any sort of step in labeling any of this. She just wanted to enjoy the hell out of it. Out of him. Them.
"What?" she asked dubiously when he got a certain sparkle in his eye. And then he pushed himself up onto his knees, and his grin was so big it wrinkled his nose. "What are you do—?" She broke into a fit of giggles then as he surged up to his feet, standing on the bed, and he began to jump, making her squeal and laugh uproariously.
He bounced on the mattress to her right, a safe distance away from where she laid, letting out a "WHEEEEE!" She couldn't even stand it. He was too much for her. He filled her with the purest and brightest light. Happiness overtook her in its most basic and beautiful form, and she laughed again, grinning so hard up at him as he finally stopped jumping. Then he reached down towards her. "Come on. Try it."
"Try what? Jumping on the bed? Nope." She clutched the sheet tighter to her chest. "No."
"Being spontaneous!" he corrected.
"Kay, I'll spontaneously say no then. Ta daaa. I did it. Just then. Spontaneity!" She did her best spirit fingers that she could muster.
"Jump with me. Come on. It's so fun."
"We'll break your bed, first of all, and—"
"This bed has already handled quite a bit tonight, Sarah Walker, I think it'll be fine with a little measured jumping."
Her jaw fell open and she slid her gaze down his body and back up again to his face, seduction in her features. "Wow, that was pretty balsy there, nerd."
"Hey." He pointed down at her and tilted his head. "You initiated that whole thing. Initially." He made a face as though he'd just heard that.
"I initiated it initially, huh?" she teased.
"Yes. Shut up," he giggled, shaking his head at her as she grinned harder at him.
She gasped. "You tell THE Tabitha Rook to shut up? THE Lucy Stone?"
Chuck put his hands on his hips and leaned down so that he was face to face with her as she sat up, a daring look in her face. "Well, it just so happens I don't know who either of them even are, let alone having met them."
Sarah clenched her jaw, a delicious shiver going through her as she reached up and combed her fingers through his curls. "I'm maybe in need of some therapy for this, but that's most likely the sexiest thing anyone's ever said to me."
He snorted. "Man, you're easy."
"Hey!" She cracked up and gave his arm a smack, making him chuckle. "Maybe you think I'm easy for it, but when you get roles like that and then every man you date afterwards sees you as some…fuckin' warrior tomb raider or intrepid reporter or whatever, spending time with someone who has never seen a Stone or Rook film is a relief. A massive one. Seriously."
His handsome face softened. "Makes sense. And I'm glad I can be that for you. Some momentary relief."
"Oh…" She smirked salaciously. "It's much, much longer than merely momentary, hot stuff."
Chuck's mouth fell open.
"What I was GOING to say is that unlike YOU, I didn't put my bra or underwear back on after we…" She felt and heard her voice crack. "And you did put those boxers on. So no, I'm not jumping on the bed totally naked."
"Okay, your loss." He hopped a few more times, looking like a little kid, and then he stopped and tilted his head thoughtfully. "Or I guess more like my loss, really."
She cackled. "Gross. That's your one gross dude comment for the night. You only get one before this girl DOES put on her bra, underwear, and the rest of her clothes, and hightails it out of here," she teased, winking just to make sure he didn't take her seriously.
Like hell was she going anywhere. She was having fun for the first time in what now felt like a long time.
"I only get one?" She shrugged. "Tough break," he muttered, crawling down to kneel next to her on the bed, crossing his arms at his chest. It did kind of magnificent things to his shoulders and biceps, she couldn't help noticing. It had been too long since she'd had that under her hands. "Lest you forget, Sarah Walker, this boy IS a man." Oh she wasn't forgetting that anytime soon, she decided as she smirked coyly at him. "And I come complete with SOME of the frailties and faults of manhood."
"Is spontaneity one of them?"
He laughed and she grinned at him, loving how it felt to hear him laugh, knowing she put that big grin there and got the laugh out of him. "Wow okay. So no jumping on the bed then…"
"It's YOUR bed. You can jump on it if you want to. Not gonna lie, it was pretty adorable."
"Just trying to prove a point," he said, smiling a little as he shifted his legs and plopped down onto his ass with a grunt, crossing his legs in front of him.
"Which is…?"
"That we can still find little moments of normalcy, things that, erm, NORMAL" he did bunny ears "people do when they first start going out on dates. Or staying in on dates. As the case may be." He made an oops face. "We're learning more about each other, for instance. I have a fear of flying. There. You learned something else."
Sarah gawked at him. "Nooo. Really? A fear of flying? But don't you always have to fly as CEO of Nerd Tech?" He made a miserable face and nodded. "Awww," she giggled, reaching over to put a hand on his bare calf and rubbing. "That must be terrible. I'm sorry."
He shrugged and smiled. "Just something I have to do, so I've found ways to get myself on the plane, get through the flight, and back off the plane. That's the easiest part. Leaving the plane."
She giggled. "I can imagine." She squeezed his calf again. "But I get your point you're making and I think it's sweet."
"Think we can do it? Be like normal, erm, I guess normal people who are first, erm, starting to see each other?"
Apparently he was deciding to be awkward about labeling this too. At least they were on the same page with that.
"In our own way," she said, shrugging, "Sure." She gave him a naughty look. "Not sure if they jump on the bed…"
"Hey. I was being spontaneous."
She really liked him. She really, really liked him. And she reached out for him, curling a finger for him to come nearer. A giant smile spread over his face and he crawled towards her eagerly, letting her grab him and pull him down on top of her. "Does this count as spontaneous?" she asked, hugging him tight as he burrowed his face in her neck and let out a happy hum.
"Yes."
And she realized that she had also missed him. She had really missed him. And she'd dwelled a lot on the way their last date had gone down. Mostly because the CIA had gone pretty radio silent on her, and Casey was off on assignment still, and that phone call had really pissed her off once she had the space to think about it. She wished it hadn't come in the middle of what had the potential to be a fantastic date with a fantastic man.
"Chuck?"
"Hm…"
"I'm sorry about that last date. I feel like I should apologize again. It got cut short and I wasn't the greatest company after that call. I'm sorry." He pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at her, his brow furrowed, like he wanted to argue with her about whether the apology was even necessary, but she reached up to gently press her finger to his lips. "Wait. I know. You're gonna say it's okay, no apology necessary. But it is necessary. And I could promise you that it won't happen again when we're spending time together, but I'd be lying through my teeth. I don't know that it won't happen again. It's kind of the way things go with me." She shifted her finger up to play with his curls she'd messed up while they'd had sex earlier. "I feel like I have to keep telling you that just in case. So you know, and remember." She winced. "I don't know. My life is a lot."
Especially right at that moment, it was a whole lot. He nodded. "I don't need you to promise that it won't happen again. It might happen again, but I hope it doesn't, just because it seemed like it wasn't a good call for you. If it does, though, we'll just try again later." His smile lifted her out of the muck in a way few things in her life had and she smiled back. "Thanks for being honest with me about being upset and not playing it off."
"I had every intention of trying to play it off but you were honest first."
"I was…maybe a little blunt." He winced.
"You were, but it was what I needed. I needed to be held accountable. And I'm grateful you give enough of a shit that you called me out like that."
His smile became softer. "I do give a shit. Many shits. All the shits, really." She laughed, completely enamored with him. "And I appreciate the apology about the other night, but I'm not upset. My life isn't exactly calm, even if it isn't as nuts as yours is." He sighed. "This isn't gonna be very easy, is it?"
Sarah raised her eyebrows and sighed as well. "No. I don't think it is. But it never is with me. There's your warning."
Chuck crawled under the covers with her and scooted over so that he was fully on top of her, pressing her down into the bed with his weight, his front flush against hers so that she could feel the bump under his boxers. Still, it seemed they were on the same page.
And then he bit his lip, giving her a look that made her feel a certain fire between her legs. "I didn't walk into every single party, gala, banquet, soiree, hullabaloo, what have you," she giggled at him for the hullabaloo part, "for weeks on end looking all over the room for you pretty much the entire night, every single time, because I wanted easy." Sarah melted at that, rounding his shoulders with her arms and smiling softly. "I did it because I was drawn to you, because you're fascinating, and smart, and witty, and kind, and incredibly cool, and easily the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life. Whether seeing you again would be easy or not wasn't anywhere on my radar. And it still isn't."
Sarah sucked in a deep breath when his hand landed on her thigh, pulling her leg so that she bent it at his hip. "Well I can't promise it won't get harder," she replied. "What I can promise is that I'm going to do whatever I can to make the difficulty worth it." She arched her hips up against his in a thrust, loving the way the soft cotton of his boxers contrasted with the hardening bump under them as both rubbed against her sex.
Chuck groaned. "Oh you do. You do." And his mouth covered hers.
She felt the hunger spilling through her and she knew she'd never wanted a man the way she wanted him. So much so that she felt a desperation in her as she thrusted into him again, even as she shoved at the waistband of his boxers, trying to get rid of that last barrier.
They worked together, and when his boxers were buried somewhere by their feet, Sarah slipped her hand over his ass and gave him a tug, making him whimper, and in moments, she felt him line himself up and gently enter her.
Sarah threw her head back and gasped, squeezing his ass and pulling him in as deep as possible. She bent both legs at his hips and braced her heels in the mattress, thrusting up against him, and he began his long, deep strokes to meet her.
She wrapped her other arm around his shoulders and clung to him, keeping their chests pressed together, his weight sinking them both down deep into the mattress, warmth surrounding them. She dug her fingers into the muscles of his ass, making him gasp against her temple, but he didn't make his thrusts harder like she'd expected him to. Instead, she felt his hand grasp onto her thigh tightly, and he oh so slowly lifted her leg, bending it at the knee, not stopping until her knee was lined up with her chest, her upper calf propped on his shoulder.
"Oh my God," she whimpered, throwing her head back. That directed the head of his cock right up against that incredible spot inside of her, and with each powerful stroke, she felt him push that button, over and over and over and over again.
All Sarah could do was shut her eyes and bury her face in his neck, gasping with every thrust, every movement of his sex pressing into her g-spot, feeling the fast build-up of tightness between her legs. It was approaching at a rapid pace. She was teetering on the edge.
And when Chuck gave a particular thrust, hard, his hips making almost a scooping motion that caused him to grind against the deepest, most sensitive spots inside of her, she tipped over the edge and she fell, crying out loudly, reaching up to slap her palm against the headboard and cling, her body shivering under his with release.
He whimpered, probably feeling it too, and he held onto her tightly, lowering her leg back to the mattress finally and thrusting his arms underneath her to hug her against his chest.
It was almost embarrassing, how ragged her breaths were as she just clung back, turning her face into his hair. But he somehow managed to find new ways to send her to new heights, and with the slightest tweaks, observing and learning. She needed to make a more concerted effort to do the same, or she feared this would get pretty one-sided very quickly.
+ —
He'd lost count.
And numbers were kind of his thing. His thoughts were formed in numbers, his dreams and sometimes even his nightmares were in numbers. His whole career had been based on numbers. His successes, his failures, and his eventual fortune, was based on numbers.
And still, he'd lost count.
It was strange, and he knew it, which was why he'd never tell anyone out loud, not even to Morgan who was his go to for lengthy conversations about sexual things. The things he'd learned about his best friend and vice versa, during late night gaming sessions. But not even Morgan would know about the way he counted things when he was having sex. He counted gasps, sighs, whimpers. And he counted climaxes.
It wasn't a pride thing. It wasn't about ego. If it had been about that, there were some experiences he'd had in bed where it might've potentially done outright DAMAGE to his ego, if he was honest with himself. So it wasn't that. It was more of a way of concentrating, a way to keep himself present and grounded.
But he'd lost count. For the first time since HIS first time, he'd melted into her, his brain had clicked off, and the pleasure had been so overwhelming that the numbers had halted, and instead, all there was was the feeling of her soft skin under his hands, the tightness around his hips as she squeezed him between her thighs, the feeling of her harsh breathing against his curls, her fingers and nails at times digging into his muscle in his shoulders, back, hips, even his ass. And then there was the bright blue of her eyes, swirling with lust and awe, the way her gorgeous features twisted up in ecstasy, the way her hair smelled like clean, fresh linens, and the way she said his name over and over and over, dripping with pleasure, surprise, utterly delicious desire.
He lost himself in how it felt to be inside of her.
The numbers stopped.
And he didn't even know how many times HE'D found his finish in the last however many hours they'd been rolling around on the bed, exploring and discovering. All he knew was that it was more than once, more than twice, more than three times even. But past that, he had no damn clue.
He was still trying to recover both from just how physical the last few hours had been, how long it had lasted, how relentless they'd both been, and he was also trying to recover from the realization that he'd. LOST. COUNT.
Chuck was still trying to regulate his breathing, his limbs splayed on the bed, limp, still buzzing and throbbing with a delicious ache from what he had a feeling was overuse—a fantastic feeling if he did say so himself. He was sort of on his side, sort of on his stomach, his face pressed into the pillow, and he was only breathing out of one nostril, the other one smashed shut by the way his face was positioned.
Maybe that was why he was having a hard time catching his breath still.
Or it was all the sex.
Perhaps both.
"Sleeping?"
He heard her quiet voice, almost a whisper, drift over from the side of the bed she'd since commandeered after they finally reached their limit. Well, he'd reached his limit. They'd finished together, fireworks exploding in the room with them, their voices carrying, and then he'd rolled over onto the side he typically fell asleep on, going limp like a rag doll.
So she HADN'T fallen asleep, which he thought she might've.
He shook his head a bit, then realized she might not be looking at him, and he breathed, "Nope."
"Oh," she said in a regular volume again, as if aware she no longer had to worry about waking him up. "Good. I wasn't sure. You're…very still."
"That's a good indication that I'm NOT sleeping, when I'm super still," he mumbled, still not moving, his voice a little muffled by the pillow. "I'm a bit of a restless sleeper."
She giggled, one note, and she took a deep breath he could hear. He wondered if she was also finding it an uphill battle trying to recuperate from what they'd just done. "I'm a light sleeper. It's a curse."
"Especially living in the middle of cities, yeah?" He finally shifted onto his back, and as he flopped over with a grunt, his arm landed a little on top of hers. "Oops. Sorry."
"S'okay," she giggled, and her fingers closed around his, holding his hand tightly and pulling it over to her stomach. She laid their interlocked fingers on her skin and just left it there above her bellybutton. He felt her thumb stroke along the back of his hand and he smiled up at the ceiling, his eyes drifting shut. "Um, it's…probably late. Or…early?" Panic immediately assailed him and his eyes surged open, turning his head to look at her. Don't. Don't go, his mind pleaded. But she kept her gaze on the ceiling, her cheeks still red from the earlier exertion, lips pursed thoughtfully. "I should probably head home and let you sleep."
"Totally not necessary," he said immediately. She turned wide eyes on him. "Unless it's necessary for YOU, if that's the case, that's okay, I get it. I just mean, for me, I'd," he took a deep breath, "I'd rather you not head home. If that's okay." She smiled a little at him and he shrugged lamely. "I don't need sleep."
I need you, he wanted to add. But he didn't. He clamped his teeth down on his lips to keep himself from saying it.
"You actually might need sleep," she giggled. "But I won't tell you what to do. I guess I said that, about going home, because I get sort of…ravenous in the middle of the night when I'm still awake, especially after, um, exercise. And it's sort of embarrassing." She winced.
"Why are you embarrassed for being hungry? Shit, I'm pretty hungry myself. Modesty aside, I worked up a hell of an appetite."
She seemed to enjoy his cheeky smirk as she beamed at him. "Good. What do you have in your fridge?"
"Well, I—" He stopped, frowning. "I don't know, actually. Hopefully something."
Sarah pushed herself to sit up, having way more energy than he did. He sat up a lot more slowly, biting back a groan as his body protested moving so soon after he'd been in constant movement, soaring, using-muscles-he-hadn't-used-before sort of moment.
"Where you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to look," Sarah said with a DUH shrug, and she swung her legs to the side, standing up. She winced and hunched over just a little with an "ouch" and gave him an appreciative look that made him turn very red. "Damn near took me out of commission, Mr. Bartowski," she practically purred.
"You? I don't even know how you got out of bed like that. Everything is throbbing."
"Well, you're welcome," she said teasingly, arching her brow. "Stay there. I'll handle the food for once." She stopped halfway to the door, then turned back, completely naked head to toe, looking so beautiful and spent and wonderfully glistening that he honestly lost his breath altogether. "Mind if I rinse off quick in your shower first?" she asked tentatively.
"No, of course I don't mind!" Chuck rushed. He moved to get out of the bed and she hurried to him, putting her hands on his shoulders to keep him there.
"Stay. Just tell me where I can find a towel and maybe a shirt I can wear. I'll literally be 5 minutes if that."
5 minutes. Her flat, muscled stomach was right in front of him, and he knew it felt like silk against his fingers, against his lips and tongue. Like cool silk. And she had a taste that was all her own, and he decided he wanted to experience it again. So he put his hands on her hips and pulled her in, pressing his lips and tongue both to her belly.
She gasped, her fingers immediately tangling in his curls, but then she made a reluctant sound and pushed him away gently, taking a protective step back, and as if for good measure, a second step. "Easy there, nerd. It's a shower I'm after, as much as I wouldn't mind more of that."
God even her voice was like silk.
He nodded jerkily. "Right. Sorry. Um. Towels under the sink. Take anything of mine out of the closet or top drawer of that dresser. I've got boxers but you're thinner than me so you might not fit too well in them. Feel free to try," he hadn't meant to growl while saying that last part. But there was a delicious flash in her eyes as she walked over to the dresser.
"Is that something you think you'd enjoy?"
Chuck carefully didn't answer that as she giggled at his non-response, going into his drawer, grabbing a pair of boxes and a black shirt, wiggling them in the air with one hand as the other hand shut the drawer, and then she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving it open a crack.
He wanted to follow, but that felt like an invasion of privacy even if she hadn't shut the door all the way. Instead, he fell back against the mattress, akimbo on the bed, and let out a breathy laugh, pushing his fingers through his hair.
True to her word, she took a very quick shower, emerging with her hair up in a knot, a pair of his rolled boxers poking out from under an AC/DC t-shirt that went part of the way down her thighs. How she got her hair into that knot without a hair tie, at least none that he'd seen, he had no idea, but she reached up, tugged at the bun on top of her head, and the long, blond locks fluttered back down, loose, like magic.
He didn't understand how she was even real. Was that a model trick? What the hell?
"What?" she asked.
"You're so beautiful it kind of hurts my insides," he breathed dreamily, incapable of filtering himself.
Sarah Walker smiled, a sparkle in her blue eyes. "I'd come over there to kiss you for that, but I'm afraid if I get close again, I'm going to end up falling back into bed with you and neither of us will get the food we both just said we needed a few minutes ago."
"Smart woman," he practically sang in a deep voice. "Let me come help you," he added as she smiled harder and moved towards his bedroom door to head for the kitchen.
"No. I said you stay, you stay," she shot over her shoulder, winking at him. Seeing her do that while wearing his shirt and boxers made him feel a little nuts, the want blossoming in his lower belly.
But as much as it felt good just lying there, hearing her rummaging in his kitchen as he nearly drifted off to sleep, he only waited long enough to be relatively sure he wouldn't get in trouble for not listening, before he finally rolled out of bed and sort of hobbled over to wear clean pajama pants and a t-shirt that fit him much better than it did her.
As he swung into the kitchen, he straightened up and walked as normally as he could over to where she stood at the counter, a loaf of bread in her hand.
"I thought I told you to stay in bed, cowboy," she mumbled as he came in close to see what she was doing.
"Cowboy?"
"You're kind of doing the whole cowboy walk thing where you've been riding a horse for too long and your nuts are hurting," she said bluntly, turning to look up at him.
Chuck blinked. "Uhhh."
Sarah broke into laughter and moved to her toes to rise up and kiss his jaw. "God, you're adorable. There's no shame in it, Chuck. I'm walking a bit like that myself. And I'm DEFINITELY not ashamed." Help him the smoldering look she sent at that.
"You're TRYING to destroy me aren't you?"
She laughed and moved away from the counter to the stove where she already had a pan it looked like, butter sizzling in it.
"What are you doing?"
"Egg in toast."
"Oh, eggs. Perfect middle of the night food. You're a genius. An egg and toast? Want me to make the toast?"
"No," she said, giving him an affronted look. "Not egg AND toast. Egg IN toast." He frowned, confused. "Wait, you've never had that? Mr. Travels a Lot?"
"I haven't traveled THAT much. What's that mean?"
"Maybe I'm just going to show you." She winked again and gently guided him back a few feet, out of her way.
He stood there for nearly 10 minutes, just watching her walk back and forth, toasting 2 slices of bread, buttering both sides, and cutting a hole out of the centers of each piece. She sauntered up to him, with her long long legs and gorgeous half-lidded eyes, slowly feeding him the round middle bit she'd removed, and then she went back and ate her own, before throwing the 2 pieces of toast into the pan.
"Holes? Holes in the bread?" he asked after he chewed and swallowed.
She held up a finger, raising her eyebrows. "Ah. Just wait." And then she reached over to pick up on of the eggs he hadn't noticed before and cracked it into the middle of the bread where she'd cut. He gasped, putting his hands on his head and watching as she did the same with the other egg in the other piece of bread.
"OH MY GOD YOU'RE COOKING THE EGG IN THE TOAST."
"Hence, egg in toast? Yeah, Chuck." She giggled at his exuberance.
"This is blowing my mind," he exclaimed. "My mind is BLOWN. I'm telling Ellie about this." She gave him a look and he winced. "I'll leave out the, um, part about you showing me. Don't worry."
Oops.
+ —
"It's okay," she chuckled, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. "She might actually know what it is if she cooks a lot. They also call it egg in a basket." She felt him freeze and she slowly turned to look at him. "What? Did I…say something?"
"This is called egg in a basket?"
"Yeah…"
"You call it egg in toast when you COULD call it egg in a basket, which is WAY more fun?"
Sarah cracked up. "I call it what I call it."
"I know, I know. It's just that you have the opportunity to call it egg in a basket and you choose egg in toast. That's your choice, that's your choice," he said, holding his hands up.
Giving him a shove, chuckling, she went back to it, shaking her head. "Look, my grandma used to make me EGG IN TOAST and that's what she called it so it stuck."
He turned to lean back against the counter, facing her, and made a half wincing half pouting face. "Your grandma? Okay now I'm an asshole. Dissing somebody's grandma."
Sarah laughed, taking the lid off of the pan and scooting the pieces of bread to try to discern if the bottoms were cooked. "You're fine, I'm not offended." And she nearly opened her mouth to tell him more about her grandma. She wasn't ready to open up like that about her family, though. She'd managed to keep a lot about her family off of her Wikipedia page. And it wasn't that she was ashamed of them or anything, but it wasn't the most functional part of her existence.
It had been a while since she'd called her mom, and her dad… Well, he existed. He was always a reminder of why she was where she was. Why she was trapped between two worlds, between two lives. Why she'd never be a regular girl. She'd have a chance if it was just the modeling career. But modeling and being a secret agent? She had no chance.
His decisions had given her a comfortable existence growing up, in spite of the fights and silent treatments and passive aggressiveness. But they'd also caused her to lose a good chunk of her freedom.
Her grandma had always just been in the middle of things, wavering between hot and cold, like she'd done with her own daughter, Sarah's mom, when raising her. Now that she was an adult, Sarah had hindsight about her grandma. Her grandma Jessica had a sixth sense about when her granddaughter needed her to step in, she would appear, take her away from her toxic household, and keep her in her own large home for a weekend, sometimes a week if Emma allowed it. Her staff would take care of Sarah, but sometimes she would sweep into the room and be like a grandma.
Egg in toast was one of the things she made with Sarah, teaching her the best techniques. She was also Sarah's Thai chi influence. She'd taught it to Sarah at a very young age, and when things became too loud, tumultuous, angry in the Walker home, Sarah would find her peace in Thai chi.
It came in handy once she began her training with the CIA. The focus and concentration, the peace of mind, the meditation and ability to clear toxicity out of your head and heart. Her knife skills especially benefited from her start in Thai chi.
And she'd really nearly talked to this man she really didn't know at all about a woman who'd been a large part of her life without even really meaning to, kindness and caring not exactly second nature to her. It wasn't anything she liked to talk about with her parents even, or maybe especially. But she missed Jessica Muller, heiress to Muller sausages, millionaire who tried to warn her daughter not to marry another millionaire.
Still, Emma Muller had met Jack Walker and damn her father was a lot of things, but the thing he was best at? Being charming. That first impression he left was a doozy.
She'd loved her dad so damn much until she was old enough to figure out that he was a grifter, a swindler. A self-made man, they said. She knew now he was a cheater, a bamboozler.
Shaking herself a little, Sarah skillfully flipped each piece of toast, smiling at the perfection of the undersides. If she did say so herself. And then she peeked up at Chuck who'd fixed his gaze off to the side, a small smile on his face.
Without meaning to, she thought that if Jessica Muller were still here, still alive and here, in this very kitchen, she might genuinely like Chuck when she met him.
Unlike Jack Walker, Charles Bartowski was an ACTUAL self-made man who'd made what she suspected were hundreds of millions of dollars from a company he started himself, a company she imagined was as successful as it was because it gave its customers exactly what they'd bargained for. This man wasn't a fraudster, a cheat, a swindler. He was honest and he didn't make his money off of other people's backs. AND he was a millionaire.
Like her grandma's grandfather, Chuck had made himself an empire starting from nothing.
She assumed. She still hadn't Googled him, nor did she know anything about his family except that he'd mentioned a sister at some point. So maybe she was just making a whole lot of stuff up about Nerd Tech Inc and its CEO and founder.
She didn't know much except what he'd told her, which wasn't a lot, and what she'd heard from others in passing, unprompted. Strange, that. How she'd never heard of him before even if she vaguely knew there was a tech company with Nerd in its name, and then she'd met him, and suddenly people were really chatty about Charles Bartowski and his company and his generosity.
It was bizarre the way life worked.
Grandma Jessica would've looked at him for a long time if Sarah had brought this man home, her pretty blue eyes Sarah had inherited squinted, her jaw hard, and then she would've asked him a million questions. She did know Chuck well enough to know he's most likely pass with flying colors, and her grandma would've liked him.
Emma and Jack Walker? That, she couldn't predict.
And it would embarrass her if they didn't like him, because it would show her background, her family, as the garbage that she'd always felt like it was. And Chuck would wonder what sort of a person it was he got tangled up with.
What kind of monster did you have to be not to like Chuck Bartowski?
"Where are your plates, and, um, silverware actually?" she asked, turning off the burner and spinning on her heel to look around his kitchen.
"Oh, that's something I can do." He squeezed her shoulder with a grin and grabbed plates, knives, and forks. She quietly watched, smiling to herself as he moved towards the roll of paper towels, then stopped, snapped his fingers, and instead went into a cupboard to get proper paper napkins.
She giggled as he turned and fixed her with a wink. "You don't make THE Sarah Walker use a paper towel for a napkin. She gets a NAPKIN napkin."
"Oh God. I'm perfectly capable of wiping my mouth with a paper towel."
"Of course you are. But if I'm nothing else at all while you're here in my home, I'm at least going to be a really good host." He set the plates down on the counter next to the stove.
"You're a lot more than just a good host. Just to put the first part of that to rest." She emphasized that by moving up onto her tiptoes and kissing his chin, humming happily.
Chuck grinned at her, his nose wrinkling cutely. "I'm glad. Um, hey…" He squirmed, looking almost uncomfortable. She gave him a curious look as she set down the turner she'd been holding to plate their food. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Why? Have I seemed…not okay?"
He shook his head. "No, no. No. You just went really quiet there for a bit when we were standing here and the food was cooking and I didn't want to interrupt, but you looked like you were deep in your head. I-I'm just making sure. Is it the…same thing as before? The phone call?"
Sarah sighed, forcing a smile. God this guy was observant. And she wondered if that was just him, or if he was like this with her only? Because he cared? Either way, she needed to be careful apparently. She'd become too comfortable, letting him see things she didn't mean for him to see.
And it wasn't that she didn't want to be candid with him, it was that she needed to be careful. She had things that absolutely needed to be hidden from him. Massive things that could affect her safety, or more importantly, HIS safety. If any of that slipped, a whole lot was at stake.
"No, that's…Well, it is what it is. I didn't bring it here, though, I made a point not to because it," she sighed, "infected our date at my house the other night and I didn't want it infecting this too." He furrowed his brow. "No, I think my brain just recognized what time it is and reminded me that I have gotten no sleep at all tonight and it kind of went blank. You know? Like, at sleepovers when you were a teenager and everyone made the pact to stay awake all night and you hit that special hour in the early morning where it gets super quiet because..." She drifted off as she realized she was rambling out an excuse, but he seemed to buy it, chuckling.
"Oh God, yeah. It was always between 4 and 5 for me. My brain would get foggy."
"Or everyone would get super giggly."
"Like we were drunk?"
She laughed. "Yeah, exactly. I think I hit that quiet spot for a second there." Sarah spotted the watch he'd put back on and reached out to pick up his wrist, pulling it up to her face to read. She realized it wasn't a Blancpain or Piaget. It was just a watch with intricate gears inside that made it look cool, maybe $150-$200. That was kind of refreshing. What wasn't as refreshing was that it was 3:57 am. "See, we're almost at 4 am. Are you going to get foggy soon? Is that something I have to watch out for?"
"Mmmm, nope. Don't think so. 1, I'm not 15 anymore. 2, you're much more fascinating and able to keep me occupied than a group of 15 year old boys." He stopped and frowned. "That sounded really horrible out of context." She laughed so hard her egg in toast nearly flipped off of her plate as she tried to slip it onto it from the pan.
Chuckling, he just barely was able to save it by scooting the plate. "Uh, I was gonna say, if that hit the floor, that one's yours!"
She laughed harder, hunching forward. "God, how are you so freaking funny? I feel like I laugh more with you than I have, like, my whole life put together."
"Well, I'm kinda funny lookin' and you hang around a lot of exceptionally sexy models. So it makes sense." He stuck his tongue out and wrinkled up his face, and she just gave him a flat look.
"That? Less funny," she admonished and he gave her a cute, toothy grin at that, taking both of their plates and moving to leave the kitchen. But she caught him before he could go. "Mm mm. Wait. No fancy table eating. At best, we do bar seating. It's 4 am, Chuck. This is 4 am face-stuffing, not a proper meal. So…no table."
"Hm. Fair point." He looked around his apartment then, thoughtful. "Countertop?"
"Perfect," she giggled, and he grandly guided her across the kitchen to his granite countertops. They both hopped up to sit next to each other, side by side, and she picked up her piece of toast like it didn't have an egg in the middle. Then she took a large bite.
He shrugged and followed suit, his face melting in ecstasy. "Oh my God. Is this magic? Where'd the syrup taste come from?"
"You didn't see me put a drizzle of syrup on it?"
"No, I didn't! Oh my God." He hummed happily, chewing. "It's like French toast almost but you're wasting less food."
She gasped. He was kind of a genius. "You're right. You know, you're the smartest person I know," she said diplomatically.
"Oh, thanks. You're the coolest person I know."
"Mm." She took another bite and savored it for a few moments, swallowing, and then continuing. "I noticed you didn't say I'm the smartest person you know too." She laughed and nudged him when he spun to look at her with wide eyes, the toast still clamped between his teeth. "I'm just teasing you!" she exclaimed, the look on his face, the absolute TERROR there, giving her a fit of the giggles.
"Wait, no! Wait, it's just that… No, when I said you're the coolest person I know, that's all encapsulating, Sarah," he said once he chewed and swallowed. His tongue swiped over his lips, invitingly she thought. "The coolest. That includes not just how smart you are, but how hot you are, like…objectively the hottest…" She blushed, still giggling a little. "And how nice you are, and chill, and fun to be around. With this incredible laugh that fills my chest up with really…good feelings."
Oh. Wow. That hit her in just the right spot, and her giggles subsided as she merely stared at him. He went quiet for a moment as he stared back.
"And you've got this swagger that fascinates me to my core. I just wanna…be around it. It's part that you're funny, part that you're constantly emitting this…I dunno, this lioness energy that absolutely draws me to you. And it's so powerful, it almost makes me a little crazy."
He finished that almost breathlessly.
Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before. Not even close. And she'd gone on a date with a writer once. But he'd talked more about himself than anything else. And the juxtaposition of this and that and the diaspora of blah blah.
This guy whose head was probably more numbers than words with how his whole career was in technology and programming and computers and whatever else? The most beautiful, powerful thing anyone had ever said to her. Especially about her.
And instead of it making her want to set down their plates and climb into his lap to devour him for what he said to her, which would've probably been a normal reaction to a guy saying something so wonderful and intense, she focused on the intensity and not the wonder. And she just ate her food harder.
She nodded, her mouth full. "Thanks," she said around the toast and egg.
Why was she so damn broken? She didn't know.
But this guy had all the makings of someone she might start to believe in, specifically start to believe that he could fix her brokenness. And that wasn't fair to him. Heaping all of that on his shoulders. Not only that, it was a really good way to ensure she ended up even more broken when he didn't fix her, when he discovered what being with her really meant and he left.
Sarah Walker shook herself, finishing her food and setting her plate aside, grabbing her NAPKIN napkin and wiping her fingers. "Thank you for saying all of that," she said, being as meticulous as possible about making sure her fingers were exceptionally clean.
"Sure!" he said, nodding, and he finished his own food. "And for what it's worth, since I didn't say it, this is easily my new favorite breakfast food. Egg in toast."
She found she didn't even mind that he talked with his mouth full. It was somehow actually kind of cute this time, looking all tired and bedraggled, his curls sticking up everywhere, kindness all over his face and in his eyes.
"You mean egg in a basket, don't you?"
"Eh." He wrinkled up his face. "I'm gonna use egg in toast, I think. It's a Sarah Walker's Grandma original."
She absolutely melted. And she leaned over to press her lips to his cheek. Softly. She didn't pull all the way back, just enough that she could look up into his face, and she breathed, "You really are so sweet."
Chuck smiled slowly, a pleased look on his face, and then he nodded, licking his lips. "I just had some syrup, so probably." He smacked his lips this time.
"Oh God, that was awful," she laughed, slipping off of the counter altogether.
"Where you goin'?"
"I'm not sitting next to you anymore, that was so bad."
He threw his head back with a laugh, letting her take his plate over to the sink. She moved to turn on the water, then, ready to clean up after herself, but she heard him hop down with an, "Ah ah! Nope! No!"
Reaching around her, he turned off the water, grabbed her by her arms, and turned her to face him, away from the sink. "I'm just clea—"
"No cleaning. First of all, you're a guest. Secondly, you cooked all of this. I'll clean it. But later."
"You're just gonna let stuff caked with oil and syrup sit here?"
"Yes," he said easily. "I am. And you're gonna let me."
Sarah raised both eyebrows. "Oh am I?"
But then he surprised her, hoisting her up into his arms, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and he turned, carrying her out of the kitchen. She thought they were going back to the bedroom, a development she was more than okay with, because it was a good way to block out everything else, just losing herself in his touch, how he made her feel physically so that she'd stop obsessing over how he made her feel emotionally.
He surprised her again, though, by not turning towards the bedroom, instead carrying her towards the living room. She squeaked, laughing as he carried her to the couch, then leapt up, landing on his back. She got her legs out of the way just in time, but it also meant her knee jammed into his ribcage, making him grunt in pain.
"Are you okay?" she asked, giggling maniacally. "I'm sorry!"
"No, no," he chuckled, wincing as he grabbed her knee and manually shifted it out of his side. "That was my fault. That was a stupid thing to do."
"A little," she said through her giggles.
"Thanks for moving your legs out of the way. I really don't want to be the guy who broke Sarah Walker's legs."
She burst into even louder giggles and buried her face in his chest, tears of laughter wetting his shirt. She pulled back, not sure if she'd ever felt so good before as she did in this moment, and she looked down at him, gently shifting a curl out of his face. "Sorry, I think I've reached that giggle fit point of the sleepover."
He chuckled. "That's adorable. Please don't apologize. I meant what I said about your laugh."
Sarah felt herself blushing, and as he scooted up to sit up more against the armrest and corner of the couch, she turned over to press her back to his chest and let him wrap his arms around her, hugging her close.
It felt good. And maybe THIS was the best she'd felt in a long time. She looked through the open window at the sky that would start to lighten soon as the sun neared their part of the world.
And she felt him yawn, his breath against her hair, his chest rising under back. She quietly hummed in amusement and draped her hands over his. "Tired?"
"So exhausted and it feels fucking amazing," he half-groaned.
She chuckled and broke his hold just long enough to turn herself over, accidentally sticking her elbow in his ribcage this time and earning another wince and grunt. "Sorry," she chuckled, wincing with him. "I'm a klutz when I'm lacking sleep."
"Oh, I'll survive. I've got a GIANT mouth when I'm lacking sleep. Like massive. I've got a klutzy mouth. So beware."
She snuggled herself into his chest with a laugh and wrapped her arms around his back, sneaking them into the triangle of space between his back and the couch and squeezing him tight. "Do your worst, Chuck."
"Don't even say that. You'll regret it," he finished with another yawn.
"You ARE tired. Why don't you sleep?"
"Mm no."
"Why no?" She lifted her head and lined her face up with his.
Chuck fixed her with his soft, tired brown eyes and tucked her hair behind her ear. "At the risk of sounding really cheesy and my tired mouth acting up, I'm not gonna say."
"Oh come on," she laughed. "You can't do that. Now I really wanna know."
He laughed with her. "Okay fine. Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." She waited patiently, fixing him with a smile. "Guess I just don't really want this night to end. I fall asleep now, the sun's gonna come up while I'm sleeping, and maybe I'll wake up and you'll be gone and all of this will have been a dream. The last few weeks, New York, you. All a dream."
There almost seemed to be more to it than just a guy saying some dreamy thing to make the girl he was with swoon. An extra meaning he maybe didn't mean for Sarah to spot in the almost sad look in his eyes.
But before she could feed her curiosity, he continued.
"Told you. I'm a mouthy sap and I make no sense when I haven't gotten enough sleep," he chuckled, giving her a self-deprecating roll of his eyes.
Sarah shook her head. "No. What you said made sense. But the last few weeks happened. New York happened. I happened, and I'm real." At least, she was flesh and blood. At this point, she wasn't exactly sure how much of HER was real or not, or was it an act? Had the CIA agent taken over the real girl? Was she ever actually a real girl? Who even knew at this point?
"That's good news."
She giggled, ruffling his curls. "And what's more, you fall asleep right here, on this couch, like this, with me, I'll be here when you wake up. You're not gonna be alone." She was determined her stupid phone didn't make a liar out of her. If it rang, she would ignore it. Because fuck them, that was why.
"Thanks. But I'm not falling asleep. I don't want to miss even a second of this."
"That's cute as hell," she said, smirking at him. And then she laid her head back down on his shoulder, burying her face under his chin and nuzzling him, squeezing him tight. "Sleep, Chuck. I've got you."
She didn't know why she said that, but something inside of her told her to, like he needed to hear it for some reason. It was just a gut feeling.
He held onto her even tighter, squeezing hard enough that she felt a few delicious pop in her back and shoulders. And she just let herself go limp on his body, letting him hold her, just giving herself a moment in which her brain might finally shut the fuck up.
And then she heard his voice waft down to her ears. "And I've got you, Sarah Walker."
But his voice was quiet, hazy…
And she felt when his breathing evened out under her chest. It took a little longer for her to follow suit, a million things rushing through her brain. But she eventually met her limit as well, and she drifted off into a deep, comfortable sleep, dreamless, and without nightmares.
Reviews are fun! Thanks!
SarahsSupplyCloset