Summary: Down on her luck, America's Sweetheart Sarah Walker flies to Chicago for a job interview. When she meets a charming, bumbling nerd on the same flight, her life takes an unexpected turn.
Author's Note: This chapter took me a lot longer to write than anticipated, but I'm finally satisfied with the result. I also wanted to have my next chapter sorted before posting this one, so I apologize for the wait but I hope it's worth it!
As always, thank you so much for your kind words!
Disclaimer: I have nothing against Picasso. I just happened to see one of his paintings recently and witness how a group of Spaniards were debating what it was they were actually seeing. Naturally, I decided to incorporate some of that in this chapter. All of this to say: I don't own Chuck.
Chuck didn't understand what had happened for Sarah to change her mood so suddenly. With the way she was now moving quickly and determinedly towards the other side of the mansion, however, he decided it best not to ask any more questions and simply follow.
If he was being honest, he had been really enjoying himself before she'd so abruptly let go of him. He'd just managed to let go of some of his insecurities, and let the music sway him. He had let her sway him. And then, he had felt her soft fingers nudge his chin upwards, and he had been mesmerized by the sight of her. As if by a magical force, he had felt a pull deep inside of his stomach. Her eyes drawing him in.
And then, when his eyes had drifted to her lips, something had snapped, and the moment had been broken. She had let go of him, and without warning, he had found himself standing alone in the middle of the prettiest ballroom he had ever seen, filled with the richest people he'd ever meet. It hadn't taken long for him to locate her; she was hard to miss. She was the most beautiful woman in the room after all. The entire world, if he was being honest.
Once he had caught up with her, she had seemed distant, unfocused. But then something had shifted. She had seemed to have pulled herself together again; the woman who'd been joking with him minutes earlier, teasing him as she danced around him with the greatest ease, was gone. Instead she had become all business. She'd become closer to the Sarah Walker he'd met in one of the supply closets at Chicago O' Hare International airport one week earlier. And while it frightened him slightly, the biggest question on his mind was why.
What had happened for her to suddenly retreat back into herself? He'd seen it before too. When they'd left the supply closet, when she had offered him her "services." On the way to the airplane, he had seen how she'd hardened. How a mask had overtaken her normally soft features. Come to think of it, it had happened too when they'd entered the plane the second time. When he'd been invited into the cockpit, and he'd met Montgomery.
Right before they had entered, she'd been comforting him. She had asked him to trust her, and then, to make him forget about his worries and his lingering fear of heights, she had teased him. Joked around with him, and if this Bryce character hadn't existed, he'd been sure she had been flirting with him. But then, Montgomery had been there, and while Sarah remained her charming, funny self, he had noted how she had become a little more guarded. A little more reserved.
As Chuck kept ruminating over what he could have possibly done for Sarah to retreat so much, Sarah had successfully navigated them into a secluded hallway far away from all the chatting and laughter of the party. Having paid no attention, Chuck now bumped into her back, as Sarah had come to a stop by a mean looking bust of a Roman figure.
"Shit, sorry," Chuck whispered over Sarah's shoulder.
"It's ok," he heard her respond. He looked around now, taking in the various expensive looking paintings hanging from the walls. Was that a Picasso, he wondered, noticing a rather ugly painting of a woman's body. More like an elephant, he mused.
"Ok, Chuck. The security room should be on the other side of this hallway behind that door on the left. D'you think you could access their security feed from here?"
"I could try," Chuck said, taking out his phone. Given that Chuck wasn't a spy in the least, and he didn't think it wise to distract a bunch of professionally trained security people to get into a security room, Chuck had created an application on his phone that could tap into any surveillance system if he were close enough to it. Since it was still a prototype, however, he wasn't too sure what "close enough" meant just yet.
It took him only a few seconds for the app to boot, but as expected, he was still too far to gain access. He said as much to Sarah, who nodded and peered around for options.
"Ok, how about that door across from them? See if you can get in. It's closer by, and you can install it without drawing too much attention to yourself."
"And what about you?" Chuck asked, worry now trickling in his voice. While he asked about her, it was him that he was worried about. He'd done his previous assignment alone, and look where it'd landed him. Right in the arms of a security guy.
"Chuck?" Sarah turned around, searching for Chuck's eyes, her hand calmingly on his wrist.
"Yeah," he gulped.
"You've got this. I'll stay in the hallway to make sure no one comes by, and if they do, I'll make sure you have enough time to get it done, alright?"
"Right," he said, his eyes flicking to the door she'd pointed out as if it were some kind of enemy.
"Chuck," she tugged on his arm lightly, noticing how uncertain he still was.
He lowered his eyes to hers again. She gave him an encouraging smile.
"Trust me, you'll be fine. And I'll be right here."
With a final nod, she let go of his wrist, and Chuck turned the corner, making his way to the door with confidence. At least, he tried his best to look confident, not wanting to seem out of place.
Chuck had just disappeared behind the door, when Sarah heard footsteps coming her way. While the hall she was in wasn't off limits per se, it would be quite the odd sight for a lone guest to be wandering around the corridors of the mansion while most other guests were enjoying their time in the ballroom.
For that reason, Sarah stepped towards one of the paintings closest to her, her hand under her chin giving the impression that she was completely enwrapped in the intricacies of… was that an elephant she was seeing? She read the little label under the artwork.
Reclining Nude, 1932. Pablo Picasso.
Ah.
If she squinted her eyes a little bit, she guessed the elephant's eyes could pass for breasts, and its trunk could be her leg. She didn't get much further in her attempt to understand the painting, however, as the footsteps nearing her from the right came to a halt behind her.
"It's interesting how a man can so blatantly cheat on his wife, paint over one hundred paintings of his mistress, and have those paintings sold for over one hundred million dollars a pop 90 years later," the man said as he observed the painting Sarah was still staring at.
For some reason, something in his voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place it. When Sarah didn't respond, the man tried again, his hands reaching out almost touching the side of her waist. His mouth close to her ear, his breath tickling her bare collarbone making her feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sure Picasso would have never cheated if you had been his wife," just as his hand was about to connect with her waist, Sarah grabbed it, turned around and twisted the hand onto the man's back into a tight hold, her lips right beside his ear.
"It's interesting how a man can so blatantly walk up to a woman and expect her to fall for such a sleazy line," she gritted through her teeth furiously.
Having had training in combat and self-defense at the Academy, Sarah was well aware of the pain the man should be in right now. Just a bit more pressure and there'd be a wrist fracture for sure. But instead of the expected sounds of agony, the man was… laughing? Sarah lowered her hold on him slightly, the laughter familiar to her ears.
"If it isn't Sarah Walker," he said, and as he did, she let go of him completely.
"Daniel," Sarah said, taking a step back. What was he doing here?
"Missed me?" he asked, his eyes glinting. A self-satisfied smirk placarded on his face as he massaged his wrist. She'd hurt him. Good.
"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked, a little on edge, hoping honest to god that Chuck would take his sweet time.
"I could ask you the same. Last I heard you were living it up at the USAFA far away from all this glitz and glam?"
She averted her eyes when he said so. She couldn't stand the way he was gloating, because he knew. He absolutely knew. He'd always been like that. The only reason for him to bring up such a thing would be to rub it in as much as he could. And while she'd like to believe that she had changed, that she'd grown as a person, enough at least for her not to be bothered or bated anymore by someone like Daniel Shaw, she came to the crappy realization that he still could. Bate her that is.
"So, what are you here for anyway? Business or pleasure?"
"Pleasure," she said too fast to her own liking.
"Hmm, a shame really. Your dad always spoke so highly of you. We were so certain you'd want to follow in his footsteps. What he would say if he could see you now."
If Shaw would have told her this only two months earlier, Sarah was sure he would have been on his way to the hospital by now with more than a simple wrist fracture. But lucky for Shaw, he was still standing, no hair out of place. It did take Sarah every ounce of willpower not to give in to the fury of hatred that washed over her. Guess she had grown a bit after all.
"I see it has become a we instead of a them. Daddy finally let you sit at the grown-ups' table?" Sarah asked instead. If her response surprised Shaw, it didn't show.
"You could too, you know. We've always made it clear to you that your seat will be waiting for you when you decide to return."
"No, thanks. I think I'll pass."
"Suit yourself. As long as you're happy serving under what's his name again?" he pretended to have trouble remembering his name, but Sarah knew Shaw for too long to forget the little games he liked to play.
She had been 14 when they'd met. He'd been 16, and she'd fallen for him instantly. She had been young and impressionable back then. And he'd been there. He'd understood what her life was like. He had been able to sympathize, because his life had been like hers. For the most part. For him though, it had been somewhat of a choice. For Sarah, it hadn't.
It hadn't taken long for Sarah to see through him though. To see what he was really like. That they weren't similar after all and never would be. And then when everything with her dad had gone down, she'd been certain she'd never have to see or hear from Shaw again. She was absolutely certain she had left that dark part of her life behind her. Locked and buried six feet under.
But then, she had bumped into the sweetest, most caring man possible. And somehow, the universe had a bad sense of humor and she now found herself right back in the place she'd spent the past six years trying her best to flee from.
"Roan Montgomery, was it? Nice fellow. I bet his weekly schedule is just the amount of exhilaration you were looking for," Shaw blabbered on as Sarah was busy cursing the heavens and what not for making her and Shaw cross paths again.
"I guess you truly took whatever you could get after what they did to you at the Academy. See, Sarah. We'd never do that to you," he took one of her hands, his thumb softly stroking its back, shivers running down Sarah's spine; the bad kind.
Once Chuck had entered the room that turned out to be a small supply closet, his heart rate had normalized and his cool had returned. He was close enough for the app to work, and all he had to do now, was to gain access and take control over the camera feed. A job which was right up his alley. He was in his element now, tapping away on his phone. Setting up the little device that would allow Chuck to monitor and change the footage from wherever he wanted to within a 100-ft. radius.
Once he was absolutely positive the guards wouldn't notice his intrusion, Chuck pocketed his phone and returned into the hallway after having checked that the coast was clear on one of the surveillance cameras. He expected for Sarah to have stayed close to where he'd left her, and he was more than ready for them to move on to the next part of their mission, when he heard voices from around the corner.
One of them was definitely Sarah's; he'd recognize hers anywhere. He was sure of it. The other voice was deeper, a man's voice. He had no idea who it could be, but the ecstasy he had felt after a job well done was short lived. What if some security guard had come across her on their way back to the surveillance room? Technically, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Yet.
Still, Chuck trod with caution as he rounded the corner. What he saw wasn't at all what he was expecting. Sarah was standing with her back to Chuck, so he couldn't make out whether she was in trouble or not. What he could see, however, was a good-looking dark-haired man who was caressing one of her hands as he finished his sentence:
"See, Sarah. We'd never do that to you."
Chuck didn't know what came over him, but next thing he knew, his legs strutted forwards and he swung an arm around Sarah's waist possessively, his gaze never leaving the dark and brooding man's sight, as he said: "Hey, sweetie. Sorry it took so long. I think I ate a bad shrimp. And you are?"
The man let go of Sarah's hand then, a glint of amusement – or was it surprise – as he eyed Chuck up and down and glanced back to Sarah.
"Where are my manners, I'm Daniel. Daniel Shaw," he extended his hand, more as a formality it seemed but Chuck wasn't ready to shake it. Shaw seemed to catch on rather quickly, and lowered his hand as he asked: "And you are?"
"Chuck," Sarah said, before Chuck had even gotten the chance to open his mouth.
Shaw smirked softly before letting out a charming chuckle: "Ah, you must be the Charles Carmichael Sarah's been telling me so much about. It's an absolute pleasure."
While Chuck usually wasn't the jealous type, something about this guy just rubbed him the wrong way. For one, it was the way he kept going over Sarah's figure hungrily, and the fact that he clearly thought Chuck was way beneath him and her. That, and he looked like he was a living breathing Superman.
"And you know Sarah how?" Chuck asked.
"Ah, family friends. Sarah and I go way back. Enough about me, though, tell me all about yourself, Charles. What do you do for a living?"
"I uh- recently sold out of my software company, kind of unemployed right now. The problem is, I'm too young to retire, too rich to work, so, I've been giving a lot back to charity. You know how it is," while Chuck said it, he was groaning at himself on the inside. He'd bumped into an old college friend of his a few months back, Alan Waterman, who'd given him that exact line.
Chuck and Morgan had laughed about it for weeks, and now here Chuck was, retelling the same line just to impress the super hero of a man who'd been caressing Sarah's hand. Chuck had added that last part about charity not to come across as the ultimate jackass, but still, as he said it, he felt a little part of his dignity die inside.
"I'm impressed, Charles," Shaw said, not noticing the energy it took for Chuck to lie.
Shaw's watch beeped then, and he looked down with an exaggerated sigh. His fingers moving over the screen, a smirk now marking his features, as he looked up at the both of them.
"I'd love to chat more with the both of you, especially you, Charles. I wanna know all about that software company of yours, but I'm afraid duty calls. Some of us still gotta work for a living," he winked at Chuck when he said that last part.
"Oh no, you gotta leave so soon," Chuck pretended, counting down the seconds for the man to finally leave.
"Stay away from the shrimps, Charles," Shaw slapped Chuck on the shoulder quite harshly before moving on to Sarah who'd been remarkably quiet throughout the whole encounter.
"Hah, right, I will," Chuck mumbled, wincing slightly in the aftershock of Shaw's slap.
"Sarah, it was lovely to see you, as always. Remember, our offer still stands," he kissed her on the cheek, and with that, he left in the direction of the ballroom.
Once he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, Chuck let go of his arm around Sarah's waist, and a quietness came over the hallway. Eventually Chuck broke it with an awkward laugh, trying his best to break the tension and get rid of the jealousy that still reverberated, as he said: "Well, what an interesting man."
"Uhu," Sarah said absentmindedly, clearly still lost in thought.
"What did he uh- mean by the um- offer still stands?" he asked noticing the frown that had appeared on Sarah's forehead. He tried his best to read her expression, decode the hint of cloudiness in her otherwise sky blue eyes, but he realized that he couldn't.
"Sarah?" he tried again.
"Hmm?" She looked up, her eyes blinking as if she'd just been woken from a deep slumber.
"I –uh," Chuck stopped talking as a security guy passed them with a radio transmitter in hand, reminding both Sarah and Chuck of why they were there in the first place. Both their gazes followed the man disappearing behind the same corner Shaw had, and once he had vanished and they were alone in the hallway again, Sarah looked back to Chuck and asked:
"So, did you manage to get in?"
She looked at him tentatively, as if silently pleading Chuck to drop the Shaw subject. So he did.
"It went great." Sarah's shoulders lowered slightly in relief.
"That's good," she said more to herself.
"So, we're all set?"
"I think so," he smiled at her sheepishly, a little nervous.
"Great, let's not waste any more time standing next to that creepy elephant, and let's go steal ourselves a diamond," she said, grabbing Chuck's hand and pulling him towards the staircase at the end of the hallway.
Chuck let out a small laugh, looking back over his shoulder at the Picasso painting one last time, before following Sarah up the narrow stairs. Once they reached the landing on the next floor, Sarah halted briefly to look back at him, an eyebrow raised:
"Sold out of your company now, did ya?"
"What can I say, Charles Carmichael has style," his response seemed to amuse her as her eyes twinkled, and then she motioned him to quiet down as they had arrived on the floor of their mission.
It wasn't hard getting into the master bedroom. Having the security feed on his phone gave them an edge as to the layout of the mansion, and they soon made their way inside of a grand burgundy-colored suite. Chuck had tapped a few buttons, put the camera feed of the room on repeat to trick the security team into believing that no one was up there. For good measure, he had looped the hallway cameras too.
"Alright, so what are we looking for exactly, Chuck?" Sarah asked as she stepped towards the left of the four-poster bed, while Chuck went to the right of the bed towards the windows and glass door that led out to a big balcony.
"The report said it should be in a safe in this bedroom, size should be around 20 by 20 give or take. So anywhere where they can hide it, I suppose," Chuck said as his eyes drifted towards the stunning view of the city of stars in the distance.
It was truly remarkable. He had lived in the city his entire life, yet, he'd never seen it from such an altitude before. The view was a sight to behold. Millions of twinkling bright lights, million individual lives happening at the same time, right in front of his eyes. He could make out the red lights of cars stuck in the famous L.A. traffic. He'd like to imagine Captain Awesome probably being one of them, on his way home from work, on his way to Chuck's sister.
Somewhere out there, the last Buymorons were closing shop. Morgan had probably biked home by now, as his sister had most likely kicked him out. He was probably either playing call of duty or halo. Chuck would have too if it weren't for the email that'd so abruptly changed his life.
He would have been one of the million individuals down there, minding his own business. His biggest worries being how best to avoid Harry Tang at work, and how to hide from the disappointment and pitiful glares his sister and Captain Awesome would send him from time to time.
But he wasn't. Instead, he was here. His sister and her boyfriend continued to throw him worried glances, unaware that anything had changed. Because how would they know? How were they supposed to know that Chuck's life had done a 180? How were they supposed to know that aside from his mediocre job at the Buy More, he now ran around with a once celebrity turned commercial airplane pilot to steal from rich people in Malibu mansions?
How could they possibly know that aside from the constant worrying about his sister and his own livelihood, that same pilot had become the subject of all his dreams as of late? That she was more on his mind than any of the assignments that had been and would be send his way? That he couldn't get over the fact that despite her being married, he was so truly mesmerized by her.
They didn't know, and they could never know. To them, Chuck was currently on a date with an extraordinary woman who was so far out of his league that they were more likely to be playing in different sports all together. And Ellie and Devon would have to go on believing that Sarah was his date, even though she'd never be. Because that was the only way Chuck could keep them safe. And so, Chuck would have to learn how to live with that reality. No matter how painful it was.
"Hey Chuck?" he heard from behind, and he realized he'd been staring out the window for far longer than he had planned to.
"Hm, yeah?" he said, giving the city one last glance before turning his back on it.
Sarah was on the other side of the bedroom, observing another Picasso painting. Truly, what was up with this house and Picasso?
"Think this might be it?" she asked, as Chuck made his way over. The painting definitely had the right size for the safe to be hidden behind it.
"Looks like it. Let's see," he said, his tongue half sticking out as he carefully started to lift the frame. But as he did, they heard footsteps coming from the hallway.
In unison, Sarah and Chuck spun their heads towards the door. Lucky for them, they had been clever enough to close it after entering. That would at least buy them a few more seconds to hide, given that the footsteps were definitely headed their way. Sarah and Chuck turned back to each other, panic in their eyes.
"I thought you said you had tapped into their security system?" Sarah hissed under her breath while looking around for a hiding spot.
"I did but I looped the hallway too and forgot to look if anyone else's up here," he whispered back, his fingers still on the painting's frame, his body seemingly unable to move.
"You did what?" she released one of the drapes that hung as decoration in the corner.
"I-," but he didn't get any further as the door opened, and Chuck was pulled behind said curtain by the front of his dress shirt. He stumbled into Sarah, who grunted as the momentum of her pull on him pushed her against the wall behind her. Then, everything went dark as the curtains enclosed them, and two low voices entered the room.
"How close are we to finding a replacement?" a strong male Russian accent filled the room.
"We're still working on our silver fox, but the man has suddenly grown a conscious and is much harder to persuade than he once was," the other man said. American, Chuck guessed, but he wasn't too sure since he was more worried about the fact that his loudly thumping heart was about to scream to the two men that hello, there were two people hiding behind the curtains!
It also didn't help his still faster beating heart that he was so close to Sarah now that he could smell her lavender shampoo, and he could feel the curves of her body against his. He swallowed deeply, trying to think of anything but the woman he was currently pushing against the wall, and instead tried to focus more intensely on the vague conversation that was being held only 6 ft. away from where they were hiding.
"I told you I don't want to work with him. As long as Diane's around, he won't budge. What about the new asset? Any word on him?" the Russian's voice becoming impatient.
They were now right in front of the painting Chuck and Sarah had been inspecting only minutes earlier. Chuck heard how it was slid to the side, followed by a combination of 6 numbers being pressed before the tell-tale clicking of a safe opening. There was some shuffling, a loud clunk and then it closed again.
"Actually, I think you'll be happy to learn that our new asset bumped into an old colleague of ours. Apparently, she's been teaching him the ropes," the footsteps that were retreating towards the bedroom door halted briefly, as the Russian man scoffed unconvinced: "That's impossible."
"Listen, Alexei. We all know how much you trusted your buddy, but it seems like it's the asset who'll finally bring our ice queen home," the man laughed then, and the two men left the room. The door closing behind them.
"Oof, that was close," Chuck breathed out a minute later, after having made sure they wouldn't return. As he said so, he took a big step back creating some much needed space between him and Sarah.
"Yeah," Sarah mumbled, her back still against the wall, her eyes a little unfocused.
"You've got any idea what they were talking about?" Chuck asked over his shoulder as he moved out of their hiding place, checking the security feed on his phone to make sure that they were in fact alone now, and no one else was going to barge in anytime soon.
"Um, no. Why would I?" Sarah came to stand beside Chuck who was moving the painting to the side to reveal a silver safe. Just like in the movies, Chuck thought to himself.
"Why do you ask?" she asked matter-of-factly, her face moving closer to the safe.
"I- uh," but Chuck didn't get any further as Sarah started to punch in a series of digits.
"Sarah, what are you doing?" his voice high, his hand reaching out to try and stop her, but before he could, Sarah had entered the final number and the safe opened with a click.
"Relax, I have perfect pitch. I wouldn't go and push random numbers without knowing what I'm doing," she said as she moved a little to the side so Chuck could see the content of the safe. In it, there were piles and piles of cash, a Glock, a few bracelets, a robust ring with an emerald stone at its center, and one diamond.
"Wow," was the only thing Chuck could say.
"You can say that again," Sarah chuckled as she carefully lifted the diamond out of the safe.
"Oh, I uh-," Chuck's cheeks reddened as Sarah glanced at him in curiosity. "I wasn't talking about the –um diamond. I mean, yes. That too, just wow. But um, I was actually commenting on the fact that you've got perfect pitch. I was just beginning to wrap my brain around how awesome you are and then you go and spring this new piece of information on me like it's nothing, and I guess my head couldn't handle it and just went boom," he mimicked his head exploding.
"Now I've gotta start all over again," he shrugged sheepishly, closing the safe and moving the painting in front of it once again. Throughout his movements, Sarah just gaped at him, the blood rising to her cheeks, Chuck clearly unaware of the effect his words were having on her.
"Alright, looks like we're done here. Let's go, Sarah. If we stay out too late, I'll have to deal with a very excited Ellie, and given that you've now met her, trust me, it's best to be avoided," he checked the surveillance footage one last time, before exiting the master bedroom.
Sarah shook her head in awe, stowing away the diamond in her clutch before following Chuck out into the hallway as she muttered: "You're something else, Bartowski. I'll tell you that."
The car ride back went smoothly. After having stolen the diamond, neither of them had felt like staying much longer, and they'd soon left the mansion getting Sarah's Porsche back from the British looking butler. Per instruction, they had dropped off the diamond in the same location where Chuck had left the previous device. After that, Sarah had driven Chuck home.
They were now walking towards Chuck's apartment, the fountain still babbling on in the background. Once they were in front of his door, they came to a halt and Chuck turned around to face Sarah, his hands in his pockets.
"Thanks for helping me out," he said, his heart for the umpteenth time that evening quickening at the sight of Sarah's smile as she tucked a golden lock behind her left ear.
"I truly don't know where I'd have been without you. I mean I-"
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Sarah interrupted, her hand reaching out to remove an invisible piece of string off Chuck's suit, his eyes following her movement in surprise.
"Um, what are you doing, Sarah?" he asked as she stepped closer to adjust the lapels of his suit.
"Your sister's watching through the window, and since I don't think your blackmailers will let you off the hook anytime soon, I at least have to give your sister the impression that we wanna do this again," she smiled up at him through her eyelashes. Even with her heels on, and her being tall and all, he still had a few inches on her.
"Right, um, thanks," he said a little nervously.
"But what I wanted to say, Chuck, is that most of it was you tonight. I mean, I don't think they would have let you in if you would have arrived in that car of yours," they both chuckled at that," but apart from my car? It was you who put us on the list, you who came up with the names, and you who tapped into the security system. You shouldn't sell yourself short," she concluded with a final tuck on his tie before letting go of him.
He missed the physical contact immediately; her words only half rendering as he had been more focused on how her hand had softly touched his skin in the process of straightening his bow tie. When her generous words did reach him, he returned her in kind with a smile.
"I'm not so sure about that, but thanks. And hey, good thing we used those names after all. I mean, I know you knew the guy, but if I'm being completely honest, I'm kinda glad he didn't stick around for too long, and I'd like to believe that our names were part of the reason," the sparkling in Sarah's eyes died down at that.
"About that, I'm sorry you got to meet him. He is," she sighed, her eyes lowering," seeing Shaw again… Let's just say he's part of a past I don't really like to think about."
"Hey, that's ok," Chuck said hurriedly, cursing himself from bringing him up and ruining the light spark of flirtation that had been in the air. "We've all got those kind of people in our lives. I wouldn't like to bump into some people from Stanford either. So, don't worry about it. You're good and we're good, Sarah," she met his eyes again. While hers still looked a little troubled, her shoulders lowered slightly, and some of her visibile tension dissipated.
"Hey, uh, I know this wasn't a real date and I appreciate you keeping up the cover for my nosey, prying sister, but I just wanted to let you know, fake or not, this has been one of the best I've ever been on," her eyes widened a little in surprise.
"Oh really? I must not have a lot to compete with then," she teased.
"Ouch, you hurt me, Walker. And straight through the heart too," Chuck mimicked an arrow piercing his heart, to which she laughed loudly, encouraging Chuck to continue.
"I always thought you'd just take me up on one of your many planes and push me, oh I don't know, out of the plane somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, but ok no, now I know. Will stab you through the heart," he said jotting it down on an invisible piece of paper.
"Oh, shut it," she said, jokingly shoving his writing arm a little to the side, both laughing.
When they both caught their breath a little bit, Sarah cleared her throat before she asked a little shyly:" So... One of the best, huh?"
Her question caught Chuck off guard. He knew admitting he had enjoyed himself so much was a little on the intense side, and it was for that reason that he had joked around, allowing her an out. A way to move on from the intensity, to reach lighter ground. But no, instead, she had brought it back up again herself.
While the energy surrounding them had been a little electric, they now seemed to move into new territory altogether. Chuck suddenly became very aware of his own physicality, and her proximity to him. While voices of her being married had haunted him all night, his brain had finally fallen silent. Chuck wasn't a person to go after women who were taken, even less so after those who were married. If it weren't for the look she was giving him now though, the pure vulnerability in her voice as she repeated his words back to him... Deciding it was now or never, he took his chances as he said:
"You know, if we were really dating, this would be the part where I'd be forced to kiss you goodnight," and as he said so, his legs moved closer to hers on their own accord, while his eyes lowered to her lips.
"Forced?" she responded, a little breathless.
"Would it be so bad?" she then asked, their eyes meeting with an intensity Chuck had never experienced before.
"I'm sure I could suffer through it," they inched a little closer.
"Me too," she said as they both moved in at the same time. He could feel her breath on his lips.
Triiing.
The moment was broken. Their eyes sprung open, and both looked down at the clutch in Sarah's hand.
Even if he'd try, Chuck knew the moment was over before it'd started. Sarah took a step backwards. She looked a little flustered as her hand searched for the damned device that had just ruined their moment. When her eyes read the name on the screen, her expression hardened, and Chuck knew the evening was over.
"I-uh," she looked up at him shortly, a hint of an apology in her eyes.
"Hey, don't let me keep you. I'll see you when I see you, right?"
She was distracted, not mentally there anymore. She looked at him again quickly, a small smile that didn't reach up to her eyes.
"Thanks Chuck, see you later," and with that, she left.
"Goodnight, Sarah," he muttered.
Chuck remained standing in the courtyard much longer than it took for the echoing of her heels to dissipate. Eventually, he let out a loud, deep breath before entering his apartment. The moment he stepped inside, he was jumped on by his sister who yelled out in excitement, followed by a "calm down, babe. Think about the neighbors. Good job by the way, Chuck," from Devon.
It would take another thirty minutes for Chuck to finally escape from Ellie's interrogations and Devon's occasional comments, and he was more than relieved when his head finally met his pillow. He turned onto his side, and grabbed his phone, not really knowing what he was expecting. There was this little part of him that hoped that she might have sent him something, even if it was only to say that what had almost happened tonight should never ever happen again, but his phone remained blank. Eventually he turned off his phone, pulled his blankets up to right under his chin, and he tried his best to let the sleep take over from him.
A/N: Poor Chuck. At least, the plot and tension thickens... dumdumduuuh.
Next on Chuck vs the Pilot: You'll get to be on a plane again yay, and get some more insights on what's going on in Sarah's head these days, because I have a feeling it's a lot.
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