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: Life got busy again, which is nice. That does mean I'm pretty sure I won't make nanowrimo, but that's ok. I'm very proud of myself for getting so far in this current story. When I started out, I didn't imagine it would take me so many words to tell the story, but I guess that's the magic of stories. Anyways, thank you so much for your continued support!

Disclaimer: I am not a pilot, nor a hacker nor a spy. I'm simply a girl with a big imagination who likes to play around with the characters of Chuck. I don't own Chuck, I'm simply an admirer. Also, I'm European and have never been to Chicago. So, basically, blame the internet for any mistakes. Of course, spelling and grammar mistakes are mine.


Everything ached.

She grunted against the pillow as a loud shrieking sound filled the bedroom.

"Carina," she grumbled. She extended an arm; her fingers trailed over soft linen, a blanket, a pillow. No sign of her friend.

With great effort, she opened an eye, and groaned at the brightness of the space momentarily blinding her. After a blink or two, her eye adjusted and the absence of her friend was confirmed. Meanwhile, the horrible sound continued. Why was it screaming, and where the hell was Carina?

Sarah let her body roll over towards the alarm clock, her limbs protesting against the movement. It had been late last night, or better yet, early this morning. The hearing had been anticlimactic. The judge had only taken a few minutes to review their case before she had struck her gavel and announced their separation. A four-year relationship and a six-month marriage had ended with the stroke of a pen, the flick of a wrist.

They'd walked out in silence, neither eager to speak. They'd descended the staircase, sauntered out of the building, and come to a stop at a street corner. Sarah had parked her car in a street to the left, Bryce two streets to the right.

"You wanna go for a drink?" she had heard herself ask. Bryce had been just as surprised as she was. As they'd walked into the nearest pub, and ordered some shots to celebrate their ending, she'd realized that more than anything, she was in dire need of some company.

She didn't regret her divorce, nor did she regret her marriage. It had seemed right at the time. To the extent that anything could have qualified as "right" during that particular period in her life. Sarah could have been asked just about anything then, and she would have done it. Many of the things she had done over the past six months, she'd come to regret.

She had loved Bryce at some point; at least, she had believed she had. He being the first one to ever see her for her. They had been similar in many ways; both their fathers had been celebrated, but absent men throughout their childhood. Everyone had always expected greatness from them, and treated them as such, but truly, they were two incomplete human beings broken beyond repair. And they'd found repair in each other.

At least, that's what she'd thought. Looking back on it now, she realized they were each other's poorly placed bandages, like the ones she used to get as a kid that would come off the second she'd jump back into the pool. They were each other's temporary fixes to kiss away the booboo. But meanwhile, their wounds had continued to ooze, and the bandages had floated away and clogged up the pool's filtering system.

It was only at closing time, when she would be asked to exit the pool, and the wind reminded her of the wounds on her knees, that she'd discover that her bandages were long gone, and the wounds were only slightly less painful than they had been before.

They'd stayed at the bar until a local sport's game and its loud fan base had chased them away. They'd fallen into a cab together, and had hit a club where some of their mutual friends had been. Even though mutual probably wasn't the right term. Once Sarah had been kicked out of the USAFA, she'd realized that most of her friends had truly only been Bryce's friends. It was one of those friends who had ended up in the hospital at Sarah's hands after he'd made some comments about Graham and her dad.

When Bryce had kissed her last night, she'd let him. It had felt inevitable. She had allowed herself to wallow in nostalgia and taste the life she could have led if it weren't for the deaths of her two fatherly figures. Unlike the previous kisses they had shared, this one had felt bland, uninspired, meaningless. The opposite of what her kiss with Chuck had felt like.

As the hours had ticked on, and the percentage of alcohol in her system had gone up, Bryce had at least been so decent to call Carina. She'd been partying in a club next doors and picked up Sarah, but not before giving Bryce a well-deserved blow to the face. At the time, Sarah had come between the two of them, preventing Carina from doing Bryce any more harm.

But as she and Carina had left the club, per a bodyguard's request, they'd fallen against a wall cackling, congratulating each other over the accuracy and cleanliness of the punch. They must have gone home soon after, since that's where most of Sarah's memories stopped before waking up by an alarm clock in Carina's bed.

She'd fallen asleep again. When she awoke some time later, it was by another sound that reached her eardrums. This time it was quieter, more gentle, she thought. That's my phone, she realized belatedly. She shot up, immediately regretting the movement, her head pounding, as her fingers blindly searched for her phone.

It took her another minute to locate the device, the buzzing had since long stopped.

7 missed calls – Chuck

Shit.

She had completely forgotten about Chuck after she and Bryce had left for the courthouse. She'd been too busy drinking away her feelings, numbing her senses, that she'd completely forgotten about the man who had made her feel more in a single moment than she'd felt during most of her life time.

Slowly, Sarah got up from the bed, and shuffled towards the bathroom, her thumb scrolling over the multiple missed calls and the various left messages.

The first one was timestamped 9:30 pm yesterday. She and Bryce had just exited the courtroom, and her phone had still been on silent then. Sarah pressed play as she turned on the faucet to allow the shower some time to heat up.

"Uh, hi Sarah. It's Chuck," he sounded different. Not his usual optimistic self. As the voice message played on, images of yesterday evening entered her mind. A rose, a bottle of wine, a white dinner jacket. His warmest smile turned into a frown as his eyes had landed on her half-buttoned shirt.

She hadn't expected for Chuck to be the one standing in front of her door when she had hurried over to open it. They were late as is, their talk with the lawyers concerning money and her father's inheritance having run out, forcing Sarah to change last minute for their appointment at the courthouse.

Thinking back on it, even if someone else had been at the door, it still would have been wiser if she'd gotten dressed first before actually answering the door. She could have sent out Bryce for all she cared; he only had a tie to knot. Anything had been better really to her opening the door the way she did.

She wished she hadn't been running late. If it weren't for the forty-minute drive still ahead of her for an appointment that was in twenty minutes, she would have driven after Chuck, or – less dramatically – she would have picked up her phone to explain to Chuck what he'd just walked in on.

But she hadn't had time, and she'd left Chuck to think the worse, making him leave her 7 voicemails, which she definitely should be paying attention to. The first one had already ended, and given way to the second one.

"Sarah, I really need you. I'm booking a flight right now, the Delta 12788A to Chicago should get us there on time. It'll only cost us – shit," he cursed, and the message cut off. Whatever it was that got Chuck so desperate, it was serious since she'd never heard him curse before. More importantly, why was he talking about a flight to Chicago? She quickly pressed the following message, ignoring the shower that had long turned hot and was now spilling unnecessarily.

Shit.


"This is the final boarding call for flight Delta 12788A to Chicago, all passengers are kindly requested to please proceed to gate 18B. I repeat, this is the final boarding call for-"

Sarah ran as fast as she could, ignoring the angry family who had jumped aside to let her pass. She saw her gate in the distance, and as her legs kept moving, she wished she hadn't drunk as much as she had the previous night. The movement made her stomach churn, and before she knew it, she retched.

Just in time, she fell onto her knees by the side of a trashcan and emptied the two bites of breakfast she'd forced herself to take before speeding to the airport. A few people close to her looked up in disgust, but she didn't care as some more made its way out. Then, their chattering changed, and their disgust morphed into excited whispers and two smartphones were shoved in her face.

"Dude, you're Sarah Walker," the "dude" said, completely disregarding Sarah's privacy or personal space.

Her name seemed to set off a chain reaction, because suddenly, she was surrounded by a crowd of more than twenty twenty-something dudes who, if Sarah didn't know any better, were part of the same fraternity at UCLA – their matching sweaters being the dead giveaway. She didn't have time for this though.

She got up from the ground, wiped away the remnants of her breakfast, and pushed through the group of men who were now fighting amongst themselves over whether or not she was in fact Sarah Walker.

"Nah, it's not her, Mark. Sarah Walker is way hotter than this chick," she heard one of them say. Gee, thanks, she muttered to herself.

Momentarily forgotten why she was here in the first place, her eyes caught sight of a tall, dark and handsome man in the distance, and it all came back to her. For a split-second, she thought it was Chuck, but when he turned around, she realized he wasn't. Nonetheless, she was reminded why she'd been running, and with some newfound adrenaline, she ran the final stretch, where her friend Zondra was just about to close the line to her gate.

"Walker, what are you doing here?" the woman asked in surprise.

"Hey, Rizzo. Think you can let me hop on this flight?"

"Anything for you, girlie. We need to hurry though. This dude has already kept us waiting longer than necessary. Real romantic type, too, a little desperate if you ask me. He kept calling this girl named Sa- oh," she said as they walked down the bridge towards the plane, giving Sarah a shocked look that then morphed into a smirk.

Sarah blushed slightly, and quickened her pace before Rizzo could begin her teasing. And as Sarah entered the plane, she hadn't even realized she hadn't greeted the lady in the sky, something she had never failed to do since the first time she'd ever set foot at an airport.


Chuck had just successfully cramped his legs into the seat, when the flight attendant from earlier appeared at his side.

"Mr. Carmichael?" she asked, which made Chuck's head bop upwards. How did she know about that? He had used his own information when booking the flight, emptying his bank account while he was at it. Along with the realization that he'd been neglecting his friends and family for the past few weeks, he'd also become ashamed over how he'd gotten too comfortable doing things illegally.

When he had been leaving Sarah one of his many messages, his fingers had already started the process of hacking into the airline, before he reminded himself that he would be honest from now on. As honest as he could be, given the "profession" he was forced into. No more hacking to arrange flight tickets, no more hacking to change unassuming flight attendants' schedules.

That would have to be his burden to bear. For all the misery he'd caused others, he would punish himself by taking money out of his own pocket. That's the least he could do to pay back his dues to society.

"Um, yes?" he replied a little wary.

"You said you were waiting for another passenger? A Sarah?" she asked, her face straight.

"How-," his voice trailed off as the woman in question appeared behind the flight attendant with a cautious smile and a shy wave.

"Sarah," he breathed out. He'd been so troubled by first finding her with her husband, and then the new mission that was simply impossible, that he'd forgotten just how much a mere smile from her could affect him.

"Hi, Chuck," she sighed, relieved that he didn't appear too angry. At least, not yet, she mused.


The seatbelt signs had just turned off, and the flight attendants were back to circling the cabin to help passengers with possible queries. Since Sarah didn't have a seat, she and Chuck had moved into the plane's galley, per Zondra's suggestion.

"That's Zondra?" he had mouthed to Sarah as they'd followed her down the aisle. As she had nodded, Chuck had widened his eyes dramatically, causing Sarah to giggle, which in turn led to some curious glances from Zondra.

"You ok?" Chuck now asked noticing how Sarah had looked pale for most of the plane's ascend.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she responded unconvincingly which earned her a skeptical glare from Chuck.

"Ok fine, I've honestly felt better. If you really want to know, I um- had a bit too much to drink last night," she said evading Chuck's eyes which wasn't all too hard since they were seated next to each other on two rather uncomfortable foldable seats.

While Chuck couldn't say he missed the lack of leg space of his previous seat, his back was already starting to bother him. At least, he was glad to have Sarah by his side. As the silence between them grew, however, he wasn't too sure he was that glad after all. Now that he had gotten over his anxiety of having to do the mission alone, the feelings he had put on the backburner last night, came flooding back to him.

"Look-"

"Look, I'm-"

They both chuckled a little embarrassedly, their eyes briefly meeting, before Sarah's returned to the safety instruction manual on the panel in front of them.

"Look, Sarah. I uh- think we both know how I feel about you so I'm just going to shoot straight. First of all, I shouldn't have kissed you yesterday morning, it was wr-"

"Chuck-,"

"No, Sarah. Please, let me finish. You're a married woman, to a great guy it seems. I mean, the man could be a model for all I know, I-, the point is. Even if you are getting a divorce, it was wrong for me to assume that it would be ok to pursue you. I don't go after married women, Sarah, that isn't me. I'm sorry I let my emotions get the better of me. It won't happen again."

"Chuck, what you saw yesterday-"

"No, it's ok, Sarah. I don't need to know, and you don't need to tell me. I showed up unannounced to try and woo you, and that was wrong of me. You shouldn't have to feel the need to explain yourself. Not to me, not to anyone."

Oh, Chuck, she thought to herself. If she wasn't absolutely terrified of having this conversation, she would have thrown her hands around him, embraced him, comforted him and shouted at the top of her lungs how wrong everything he'd just said was. But she didn't. Instead, she sighed loudly, frustrated at herself for her incompetence to just tell him how she really felt.

"So, um, you went out for drinks?" he asked after a moment in which she'd stayed terribly mute.

"Yeah, Bryce was there too," she winced. That she could say? But not, please Chuck, I don't care about Bryce at all. It's you I want, you are all I need.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I thought I could do this, that I could just turn it off and be your friend instead, but I can't. It's too soon," he got up from his seat and started pacing the small hallway. Come on, Sarah. Look at what you're doing to him. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"Chuck, please stop," she finally said. He looked up at her then, his raw emotions perfectly clear on his handsome features.

"What do you want from me, Sarah?" he asked.

Everything.

"I want you," her voice was small, and he had barely caught it over the loudness of the airplane.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his heart beating quicker in his chest.

"Chuck," she said, her brows furrowed. How could she tell him? He obviously didn't deserve any of this. She might be divorced now, yes, but her baggage remained. She was still the person who'd basically "conned" hundreds of people into a job that was currently destroying Chuck's character. She still was the woman who knowingly ruined other people's lives, who lied to Chuck when he asked if she knew who was behind it all. And, yet, she wanted him. Did that make her an awful person? Did that make her selfish?

Whatever it was she was trying to tell him, it was clear to Chuck how much effort it cost the pilot to do so. He returned to his seat, his eyes trained on her blue eyes, his hand reaching out to her wrist on instinct.

Her eyes lowered to his hand, and she let out a sigh.

When her eyes returned to meet his, they were slightly watery.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Don't worry about me, Sarah. I'll be fine," he said with all the conviction he could muster, while he was breaking on the inside. He wrapped an arm around her, and to his surprise, she didn't shrink away, but instead, melted into his touch.

"Chuck, ask me about my marriage," she finally said.

"Your marriage?" he breathed out against her hair, the sweet scent of grapefruit filling his nostrils.

"Um, are you still married?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm not," she whispered. She could hear him take a deep breath, and as he remained quiet, she finally felt comfortable enough to speak.

"I'm not married anymore, Chuck. When you showed up at Carina's house yesterday, we were just on our way to the courthouse."

"So, you and Bryce…?" he ventured.

"We're over. Officially divorced," that came easier than she'd expected.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. Are you, though, she thought to herself.

"I'm not. It was inevitable really."

"Oh, ok," his fingers were making soft circles on the back of her hand. She didn't know when it had started, but she didn't mind the feeling.

"Just to get my facts straight, why were you um- "

"Only half dressed?" She snorted, and he joined in, the tension of their conversation dissipating slowly.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," his voice was lighter than it had been before.

"What you saw yesterday. I was getting ready for court. We had some lawyers over who took longer than expected and we were running late for our appointment. Going in my uniform didn't seem fitting somehow. So yeah, I was changing when you showed up."

She felt the corners of Chuck's mouth raise against her temple.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked after a moment.

"Of course, anything," he replied instantly, his breath hot against her skin.

"What was up with that white dinner jacket?" she grinned as Chuck lifted his head, a blush coloring his cheeks.

"Uh right that…"

"Is it yours?" she noticed he started to rub his hands over his jeans nervously. She could just tell him to relax, end this line of teasing, but she realized she didn't want to, enjoying this far more.

"No hah, I went to a place to rent it out. Roan…"

"Of course," she snorted," I should have known. He told me he's got a move named after him. He just never told me what it entailed exactly. I'd say it's very effective, don't you? Although I would have preferred the Bartowski, if I'm being completely honest," she looked up through her eyelashes, and was satisfied to see Chuck's face turn red, and his breath turn shallow.

"Uh, hah, and what would that be?"

"I don't know. Why don't you show me?" she held in a breath, as her eyes lowered to his lips. While it took Chuck more than a second to catch on to her meaning, it took him less than one to act.

She had already closed her eyes by the time she felt his lips touch hers softly. The kiss was gentle, nothing like the one they had shared yesterday morning in the hotel room in Queens. They'd been acting on pure impulse and lust back then, the dams of their two-weeks' worth of tension finally breaking.

Now, it was cautious, tender. A little too hesitant maybe, but Sarah made sure to right that wrong. With her tongue, she asked for entry, and Chuck abided.

"Ahum," both their heads shot up at the same time, Chuck's eyes still closed, when Zondra entered the little space to get some more drinks out of one of the cupboards.

"Don't mind me, just doing my job," she grinned loudly. A second later, she was gone again, but not before shooting Sarah an approving glance.

"We really need to work on our timing," Chuck chuckled looking over his shoulder to make sure they were in fact alone again.

"Yeah, you're right. I uh-," she halted as Chuck's face was close to hers again. She let her hands reach up to his soft curls, his eyes following her movement. He let out a sigh in contentment, his eyes closing under her touch. He looked so peaceful as her fingers brushed his forehead.

She could stay in this moment forever, she realized. If only there wasn't a mission awaiting them as soon as they landed. If only she wasn't still lying to him, another voice added. She pushed that sentiment down for now, as there were more pressing matters demanding her attention. Still, it was with a heavy heart that she eventually let go of his hair, and said:

"I do think we should focus on our mission now."


Chuck was shivering as he kept an eye out for any potential guards. They were at a small seaplane base near Chicago that Sarah had told Chuck about during their planning on the flight over. If they wanted to get to the island on time – without getting caught – she had added, then a seaplane was probably going to be their best bet.

Having grown up with her mother in Chicago, her father had often taken Sarah on trips around the big lakes. It was for that reason that Sarah knew her way around the area, and that she knew where to take Chuck to find their wanted means of transportation.

It was one of the bases she and her dad had visited on a regular basis as a child, that they were now breaking into.

"You sure about this?" he whispered to Sarah who was crouched on the ground picking her way through the hangar's lock.

"I've almost got it," she responded, her breath turning into white clouds against the Chicago cold. With a soft click, the lock opened, and she came to stand next to Chuck.

"You ok?" she asked, noting he looked a bit squeamish.

"Yeah, I just… I wish you didn't have to do this, Sarah," he said, his eyes focused on the lock on the ground.

"Hey, we've been over this, Chuck," she said kindly, reaching out to his hands, forcing him to raise his eyes to meet hers.

"I'm in this. I'm not going anywhere. Also, you could have told me before I had to go and pick that lock," she nudged him playfully, hoping it would get him out of his head. She was half successful, seeing as he did let out a laugh. But she could sense he was still more than a little tense when she pulled him into the hangar and asked him to roll the doors to the sides.

Meanwhile, she inspected the various gear that hung on the walls, and unclasped a rope, climbing harnesses, a knife, and some bolts. You never knew when such things could come in handy. Satisfied with her newly acquired equipment, she moved on to the aircraft to check its tank, and the other steps required prior to departure.

"Everything in order?" Chuck asked, coming to stand next to her.

"I believe so," she gave him a quick smile, before opening the plane's door and climbing inside. Given Chuck's height and lack of elegance, it took him a little longer to get in, but eventually, he was able to join her in the double front seat and close the little windowed door behind him.

"You ready for your first flying lesson of a seaplane, Chuck?" She asked right before she started the plane, and the engine sprung to life.


The island wasn't on any of the maps Chuck and Sarah had looked on. The only way to know of its existence, it seemed, was if you were so "lucky" to have the coordinates and the ground plan sent to you. After a half hour in the air, Sarah started their descent. They had planned to reach the water earlier and then steer the plane to shore, to not alert any of the possible people present on the island.

Apart from a map on which the layout of the island and its multiple cameras where outlined, Chuck and Sarah knew next to nothing about it. They knew a certain now deceased high government official used to vacation there in their down time, and that the island consisted of mostly rock formation with the house and a boating dock on one side, and a forest with a small beach on the other side. It was on said beach, that they had decided it best to stow their plane.

The propeller of the small aircraft came to a halt, right as its floats reached a rocky shore, trees surrounding them on all sides. Lucky for them, it was a full moon that night, and they wouldn't need any flashlights. As Sarah attached the plane to one of the more solid looking trees, Chuck scouted a bit of the area in order to find the quickest way towards the house.

"This way," he said in a lowered voice, once Sarah was certain the aircraft was securely fastened. They stayed close to one other, as they moved through the dense forest. Every now and then, Chuck would halt and signal they were approaching a camera.

After the first use of his new application at the mansion a week ago, Chuck had tweaked its inner workings. Learning from his mistakes, he had now made the device as such that it would cause a disturbance with any electrical device it came near to when manually activated by Chuck. It would then reboot the system and cause the camera to replay an older recording until it was either detected by someone of the surveillance team and overridden, or when it was deactivated again by Chuck.

After a twenty-minute hike up the hill, the house – or better yet - the small mansion became visible in the near distance. To both of their surprise, the house was glowing from each room, and music and soft chattering could be heard all the way up to where they were hiding in between the trees. They looked at each other alarmed as they moved closer.

Nothing in the report had mentioned that the place was still actively being used. It was supposed to be a vacation home. Seeing as the owner of the house was dead, they imagined the hardest obstacle they would have to face would be the cameras, which had been a piece of cake thanks to Chuck and his updated application.

"What do we do now?" Chuck asked in mild panic, as he saw a group of sophisticatedly dressed people walk up the right side of the mansion, escorted by well-polished servants.

"We stick to the plan," unlike Chuck, Sarah had continued walking, and was now positioning herself behind a tree close to the left flank of the two-story mansion that gave out on the lake.

"What about all those people," he hissed, doing his best to keep low as he joined Sarah at her side.

"Look at the way they're dressed, Chuck," she pointed to the nearest couple that stood by the mansion's entryway. The woman was wearing a ball gown, and was currently trying to locate what Chuck guessed to be their invitation. The man accompanying her was wearing a shiny silver tuxedo and seemed rather impatient as he sighed loudly and looked around at some of the décor surrounding the mansion.

"Um, the only thing I can see is that we are way underdressed if we're supposed to blend in like we did last time," he whispered close to her ear, which made her grin and briefly lose focus.

"No, they're wearing ball gowns, Chuck. That means they're here for some kind of dance, which, if I'm not mistaken, takes place in the ballroom on the first floor," she pointed towards the large windows behind which – Chuck now noticed – a bunch of similarly dressed people were waltzing about.

"If we're lucky, they'll stay there while we search for the files on the second floor. All we have to do is proceed with our plan by climbing up that wall, locating this man's computer, you'll do your thing and we'll be out of here in no time," she concluded, while reaching for the bag they had strapped onto Chuck's back with all their equipment inside.

"Right, about that whole idea of climbing the wall, I don't think it's the wisest idea after all," Chuck said glancing at the wall they were currently talking about. When they'd been plotting their route on the plane, they had only worked with an overhead view of the place. While they'd already figured the mansion was close to the water side, they hadn't imagined for the mansion to be on a giant cliff separating itself from the water.

"Do you see a better option?" Sarah asked as she was strapping on the climbing harnesses, and forcing Chuck into one as well.

"Right, didn't think so. I know it looks daunting, but I will go first and then attach one of the bolts to the window. So, even if you do end up falling, which you won't, you're strapped in and I can even pull you up if need be," she explained, stowing the backpack behind a dead tree trunk. Then she came to stand next to Chuck again, who still looked less than assured by the situation.

"Hey, Chuck," she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Don't freak out."


Never in his wildest dreams had Chuck ever imagined himself climbing up a mansion on an undisclosed island somewhere in Lake Michigan with the woman of his dreams waiting for him on the other side of a window pane. Yet, here he was. While Sarah had climbed up the length way faster than he had, Chuck was still surprised at the ease with which he had moved upwards. He guessed his height did help him out quite a bit, and the bolts Sarah had placed to secure him had calmed down his nerves significantly. Still, who'd have thought?

"You good?" Sarah asked once Chuck's final leg was safely over the threshold and into the office, and she could begin to detach him from the ropes.

"That was amazing," he said, momentarily forgetting they needed to be quiet in order for their mission to actually work. But he was too excited, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Did you see that, Sarah? I climbed that wall? Me? Without even breaking a sweat. Ok, that's a lie. I am sweating a little bi-," he was interrupted as Sarah's lips were suddenly on his. He melted immediately into her touch and was about to deepen the kiss when she moved backwards leaving him to kiss the air.

"It seemed like the only way I could shut you up without alerting everyone even more of our presence," she shrugged.

"Hah, right," he whispered having taken the hint.

"Feel free to interrupt me like that anytime you like," he said more to himself as Sarah had already moved further into the office towards the desk. On there, a desktop was illuminated by the moon that shone through the window they'd just broken into.

"Noted," he heard her reply, which caused his stomach to summersault.

"Alright, Chuck. It's all yours," she said as she moved to the side, allowing him the space to activate the computer and search for what they'd come for in the first place. As he had expected, the computer was firewall protected, and he needed to bring out his big guns to circumvent the protection in place, before he could retrieve the files.

"This might take a while," he said, cracking his fingers as he went to work.

Seeing as she didn't understand in the slightest what it was that Chuck was currently doing behind the computer, Sarah's eyes wandered and took in the office before her. It was relatively small compared to the size of the building it was in, but she imagined if it was supposed to be a vacation home, they wouldn't really need an office space to work in to begin with.

Still, for its size, the room had a remarkably large book collection which was nicely organized in robust, dark wooden bookcases on either side of the room. Behind the desk where Chuck was still tapping away, there were various frames in all shapes and sizes. Some were filled with pictures; others were filled with official looking documents. Diplomas of some sorts, it seemed.

It was one of the pictures that caught her eye, and first alerted her that something was off.

"Chuck," she said, moving closer to the picture but she lost visibility immediately as her body blocked off her light source. She reached for her phone instead to use her flashlight, and she almost dropped it as she recognized the man staring back at her. He might look younger in the picture from how she remembered him, but without a doubt, it was her old professor and mentor, Langston Graham, who was staring back at her.

Her heart stopped beating for a second, as her eyes widened and took in the various diplomas she had been ready to dismiss. On them it clearly read the name Langston Graham. There were his diplomas from when he graduated from the USAFA himself, there were his accolades from when he'd served in the Air Force afterwards, trophies, more accolades. The biggest question on her mind was why she was in the office of her recently deceased mentor, and why the hell the Ring needed Chuck to steal from him?

Sarah was so rooted in place from shock, that she barely noticed when Chuck called out her name.

"Sarah," she heard again, his voice now becoming clearer as if someone had decided to turn the radio louder again after having turned it off completely just seconds earlier.

"What it is, Chuck?" she kept his back to him, not knowing where to go from here. Should she tell him, and if so how? What even would she tell him, how was he supposed to understand the significance of it all if she herself was at such a loss?

"For some reason, my name's on this list and… Why is your name on it too?" That made her turn around. Chuck's eyes were still peeled to the screen where a large document of names was glaring back at them. Cautiously, she moved closer.

She recognized the list. She had seen lists like that before. Her dad used to have similar ones every month. On there, there would be new potential assets, as the Ring liked to call them. And every time Sarah would do a good job, she would be allowed to tick them off, one by one.

She had never seen this particular list before though, but as her eyes scanned the names, she began to feel sick as she recognized most of them. They had all either shared classes with her, or walked the same halls as she had when at the USAFA. Some of them, she noted had little crosses next to them. Others were still vacant. The name Chuck was still staring at was hers, and it had a big question mark next to it.

"Chuck," her voice barely a whisper. Without wanting to, her eyes filled with tears and the names in front of her became a blur. How could he? The only man she had ever dared to trust, had been one of them after all. It made sense now, why they'd let her go so easily the first time. That they'd allowed her to stop working for her dad and go study to become a pilot.

They had one of their top recruiters working at the school, personally grooming her, training her, making her even more field ready when she'd inevitably return to the Ring. And Graham would probably be rewarded for his deeds. It was probably how he was even able to afford this mansion on an island in the first place. By recruiting new pilots and assets to the Ring like they were pigs for slaughter.

She was going to vomit; she could feel it. Her legs were shaking, and she barely noticed how two arms were gripping hers tightly, shaking her out of her daze.

"Sarah, are you ok?" Chuck asked, his face becoming clearer again. He looked worried, his eyes big.

"Sarah, you're crying," his thumb reached out to her cheek, wiping away one of the many tears that were bound to fall.

"Chuck, I-," there were sudden noises coming from the hallway.

"What's that?" Sarah asked without thinking, knowing fully well what that was. Footsteps, loud footsteps headed their way. They needed to leave, now.

"Something in the firewall system must have alerted them. I'm sorry, Sarah. I should have caught it, but I got curious, and then our names distracted me," Chuck said, dropping back behind the computer to write some new code into a bar.

"That's ok, Chuck. But we need to go. Now," she was done with the whispering. If they, whoever they were, were running towards the office, they knew there were intruders and there was no further use in being quiet.

"Just another second. We need those files," his voice got higher as well.

"Forget the files, we don't have time for this, Chuck," she shouted as she already ran back towards the window, attaching her harness to the ropes.

"I can't Sarah. If I don't have them, they will hurt Ellie."

"Chuck," she pleaded again, as the people had reached the door and were now struggling to open it. Good thinking on her part to lock it before starting their hacking.

"Ok, done," Chuck raised both his hands, a flash drive in the left one.

"Ok, good. Come on, let's go," she motioned him as angry shouts could be heard from the other side of the door followed by a loud bang. Three men dressed in black entered the room, a side table in their hands which they had used to bust the door open.

No more time to waste, Sarah attached Chuck to the rope and pushed him out of the window without warning. She heard him yelp, but didn't think any more, as she joined him and jumped out of the window as well.

"Follow them," she heard one of them shout behind her. On the ground, she disconnected herself from the rope, and was happy to see Chuck had already ran to retrieve their bag they'd stowed behind one of the trees. Unlucky for them, their infiltration hadn't gone unnoticed as some more guards on the ground floor ran out of the building in pursuit of them.

"Run," Sarah shouted as she pulled Chuck with her through the woods, back towards their plane. They should have parked closer by, she now thought as as many as six men were running behind them. As if it couldn't get any worse, shots were fired, forcing them into an even higher gear.

While it had taken them twenty minutes to reach the house, the way back seemed to be over in a flash.

"Chuck, get into the plane. I'll loosen the rope," Sarah shouted as she reached for the knife she had strapped to her calf.

"No, I'm not going anywhere without you," Chuck halted, choosing that exact moment to become a stubborn pain in the ass.

"Chuck, this isn't the time for discussion. Why are you so stubborn?" her fingers were shaking slightly as she started cutting the rope. Meanwhile, the shots in the distance grew nearer.

"Actually, I consider this a rare moment of courage. I don't know where it's coming from, but I guess you just bring out the worst in me," he reacted. Really, Chuck, really?

"And you in m-," the pain was blinding. She slumped a little as the bullet hit her shoulder, and unlike what she'd expected it to feel like, the pain was intense and immediate.

"Sarah," she heard Chuck yell, but she couldn't think straight anymore. They were right behind her, and she had just been shot. Before her legs could give out beneath her, she was picked up by two large hands and the leaves and stars blended together as someone transported her out of there.

She was losing consciousness quickly, as loud blasts kept filling her ear, and shouting or sobbing, she wasn't sure which was which anymore.

"Sarah, how do I do this?" she heard in a moment of clarity. She was in a seaplane; Chuck was sitting next to her looking paler than she'd ever seen him. His hands clutching the steering wheel in front of them. Four men on the rocks, trying to climb onto the plane as well.

"Just turn that button, Chuck," she said, as she suddenly noticed something sticky on her right arm. As she reached out with her left hand, she realized what she was touching was blood.

"Hey, Chuck? I'm bleeding."

BANG

The window shattered as another shot was fired.


Shit shit shit.

"Come on, stay with me, Sarah," Chuck yelled out over the loudness of the wind and the roaring beat of the plane's propeller. It was dark out. Chuck was freezing as the wind wheezed through the shattered window of the aircraft. His hands were warm and sticky, his knuckles blanched white, as he painfully gripped onto the steering wheel. How he had done it, he didn't know, but he had managed to get them off the island, leaving the guards behind them as he'd flown away.

"Sarah!" he screamed louder, not daring to glance sideways, his eyes on the vast blackness in front of him. Little shimmering lights popped up in the far distance. Chicago was only ten more minutes away. They'd make it, they had to.

His heart had never beat so fast in his chest before. If he'd just been quicker, if he'd just been less him and listened to her. Why was he always so compelled to dig into things, why couldn't he deny his own curiosity for once, and just do what he was asked to do? Retrieve the files, not read the files, and get caught and have your girl-, your friend shot. Who cared about a stupid list on some dead man's computer? Who cared about any of it while she was bleeding out? How was his apartment and his sister's scholarship more important than Sarah's life? It wasn't.

"Come on, Sarah. Stay with me," he repeated.

"Stay with me."


A/N: Ooof, well that just got ugly...

Next on Chuck vs the Pilot: You'll read the next update of this story. Sorry, no spoilers this time.

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