The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Thank you!
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 don't own CHUCK. I am not making any money from this.
She heard her phone ringing distantly as she finished up her second shower of the day. She didn't want to get out and run across the bathroom floor and her bedroom dripping everywhere, so she decided to let it go to voicemail.
Her body and hair wrapped up in towels, she finally wandered out a few minutes later and snagged the phone off of her bed.
She had a text from Chuck and a missed call from Tyler. She pulled up the text first, trying not to dwell on if that signaled where her priorities currently lie. "Steelcut oatmeal okay? They have the reg kind but brand is shitty and looks cheap."
Smiling, she typed back, "I prefer steel-cut actually so perf. I dont DO cheap oatmeal thanks very much."
He texted back a laughing emoji and she sat on the edge of her bed, pulling up Tyler's voicemail.
"Hey babe. So here's the deal," he said, and she immediately heard something in his tone. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad. "You have a benefit invite in a little over a week. Next Friday, or I guess next NEXT Friday. That Jessop guy who produces those low-budget indie flicks. Don't know how he has so much money, maybe Russian ties. Or China. Anyway, not for me to speculate if he gives you some work. He might be pliable if you accept the invite. Up to you. Uh, and another thing. You def gotta call me back, luv, seems we been goin' through your fan mail and there's a not-so-happy one. Need you to take a look at it and give me some input. Uh, it's a little…unhinged and has us spooked over here at the agency. So call me. Might be something we forward to coppers, just so they have a heads up 7-up, eh? Talk to ya la'az. Ta."
Sarah frowned as she lowered the phone. Hate mail wasn't new for her. They were part and parcel of being as famous as she was. Not everyone loved her. And plenty of people found reason to even hate her—whatever those reasons were. And she'd even received enough threats to put her on the LAPD's radar as far as keeping an eye out. She'd been stalked before. Harassed. She'd decided to move out of the apartment she'd gotten when she was 19 because a stalker broke into the apartment when she wasn't home (thank god). It had sucked a lot because she'd loved that place.
This was just part of the routine now. Take a look at the hate mail, deem if it needed to be forwarded to the LAPD just in case. Blah blah.
She called Tyler.
"Oh good. You haven't disappeared off the face of the earth like I feared," he answered without so much as a hello.
"I needed a break from my phone." And some quality time with a man who made her feel insanely good but Tyler wasn't going to know that. "So? What's in this letter?"
"First thing's first, Sarah. Shall we accept Jessop's invite to the benefit?"
She didn't want to go but he was right that it might help her make important connections. And she wasn't going to lie, Ty's little aside about Russian or China ties got stuck in her ear. "What do you mean by this Russian-China thing? I ask because I don't think I want to get involved in any of that illegal foreign ties shit, Ty. That's not my brand. I'd like my career to stay as squeaky clean as possible."
"Well, should'a thought about that before you got caught canoodling Curtis Appling. He's the furthest thing from squeaky clean there is," he teased.
She glared straight ahead. "I made out with him the ONE TIME. I was drunk and 21 and stupid AND he isn't that bad. He's just one of those…rocker types."
"Sar, he constantly looks like he's just crawled out from under a dumpster."
"Shut up, I was drunk. And by all accounts, no matter how he looks, he sounds like he's probably not a bad person. He has a charity helping inner city kids, you know…"
"Fine, fine, I'm just pulling ya leg. You never let me have any fun, Blondie."
She rolled her eyes. "Do I have to repeat my question?"
"No, no. I got it the first time, luv. I'm mostly tongue in cheek, but there are questions I have about this guy's finances. He owns a yacht that's docked in Mallorca but his films he produces barely rake in dough, even though they get the Oscar buzz."
"Typical Oscars. Promotes films only, like, two people in the country have access to."
"You ain't wrong, Blondz. Anyway, the guy has hung out in circles with other guys with names that end in like -ov and -sky, so I just tease about the red flags. Probably not bein' nice. Not every guy with an -ov and -sky name is doing illegal shit."
Maybe not. But a lot of them were, especially if they had a lot of money.
"Okay, well…I'll accept the invitation. Email me the details and I'll check it all out tonight. But I make no promises about connecting with this guy if he isn't on the up and up."
"Want me to have my peeps research it?"
Sarah sighed. "No, it's okay. That's silly. If it feels off, I'll just make my usual donation, thank him for the invite, and go home. Right?"
"Exactamondo. Okay, we'll send him a nice note accepting the invite. As for the threatening letter…"
"It WAS threatening then?"
"Aye. Not great. It's a poem."
She made a face. "A poem? That…doesn't sound all that threatening. Unless we're in a communist nation in the 1980s, poetry is kinda nice."
"Wellllll…sure. Yeah."
"What's the poem?"
"It's Emily Dickinson. Only reason I know that is we Googled it. Ahem ahem… Fame is a bee," he started, reading haltingly. "It has a song—It has a sting—Ah, too, it has a wing." He paused. "That's it. That's the poem."
Sarah mulled it over. "Okay, so…? All that poem is saying is that fame is fleeting. Like a bee, it travels flower to flower. Somebody warning that my fame will be fleeting doesn't sound all that bad. Better than the guy who wanted to know what size my bra cup is. THAT was gross. I had to take a shower after that one."
"That was so sickening, yeah. But no, it's uhhhh…well, lemme text you the drawing under it."
Oh. There was a drawing too?
She put him on speaker and waited for his text to come through. She pulled it up. He'd snapped a picture of the drawing. A tall, muscled man was sloppily drawn holding a chainsaw with blood dripping from it, and kneeling below him in a position of fear and weakness was a blond woman with large bat like wings erupting from her back. The man with the chainsaw was viciously sawing off the wings as she screamed, reaching up towards him as if begging for mercy. It was crude, but its crudeness somehow made it more gory, more frightening.
"Fuck," she breathed.
"Yeah, it uh…made us pretty fuckin' creeped out when we saw it."
"What kind of a sociopath…?" She stopped, swallowing hard. A deep chill cut through her.
"Exactly it. This is a sociopath. I have an address, though I doubt it's a real one. But want me to forward it to the coppers?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding slowly, still staring at the gory threatening drawing. "Please. Um, I'm not leaving my house for a bit. That's…startlingly frightening."
"Yeah. I'm sorry, luv. I dinnit mean ta ruin your day."
"No, no. It's okay. It's important we catch this crap when it comes in. Thank, um, your interns who go through this fan mail for me, huh? I'm sure it wasn't fun to come across that one."
"Right. Some of these are bad enough I'll be offering these interns more than just a paycheck and benefits. Might need to talk on paying for therapy."
"Uh yeah. That's for sure. Thanks, Ty. I'm gonna go."
"Alright, you. Stay chipper, huh? Nobody's gonna come near you while you've got ol' Ty around. Need me to send someone to the house? I know Case is on vacation."
"No, I'm good. Thanks."
"Lemme know if you change your mind."
"Will do."
She hung up and sat still for a while. That had legitimately chilled her. As Graham's masked Ice Queen, she'd gone up against some of the cruelest arms dealers on the planet, and they hadn't creeped her out as much as that drawing.
She had just finished drying her hair when she heard the sound of the buzzer for her garage. She hurried over to her phone and pulled up the security camera she had on the entrances of her home just in case. Especially after the threatening hate mail she'd just seen, she knew there was no such thing as too careful.
There was Chuck his car angled down towards the garage, bobbing his head to whatever music he was listening to. She smiled as she opened the garage door for him, relief and 10 million other things assailing her, and she stepped into her yoga pants, tugged a sweatshirt on, and rushed down the side staircase to meet him.
After that phone call with Tyler, she was endlessly glad she wasn't here alone. In spite of knowing she could handle herself. It was the creep factor of it all. How did she anger someone that much that they did that freaky drawing threatening her? What had she even done to deserve that? It was chilling.
Sarah Walker, CIA agent and spy, didn't need PROTECTION. But she didn't want to be alone. She couldn't explain the sensation if she tried.
And as she popped open the door into the garage, Chuck turned off his car and climbed out from behind the wheel. "Oh, I cannot wait to show you what I got. Here, c'mere." Grinning at him, she followed him to his trunk, watching as he reached down to wrench it up, pushing it all the way open. He reached in (and she noticed for the first time that he'd put jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie on when he went home), and emerged again with a large cake in a domed, clear container in his hands. "It's a chocolate turtle bundt!" She stared at it, eyes wide. His smile dimmed a little and he shifted his weight awkwardly. "It's…it's a cake."
She giggled. "Yes, I'm aware. Chuck, I don't think I had that on my list…"
"Oh. No, you didn't. But I kind of…strayed off of your list a little bit here and there." She raised an eyebrow and he held up a hand. "I got everything you wanted, everything on the list is here. But I might've gotten…some extra…things." He gave her a toothy grin, his nose wrinkled.
"Oh God," she groused teasingly. "You do realize I'm only one person, right? And I don't spend much time in one place with the way my career is. If I'm not here, I'm at my apartment or my other condo or the…other properties I frequent. Or I'm not in California at all, or even in the country. I can't possibly eat a whole car full of food."
"I didn't get enough to feed a village, Sarah, geez." He forced the cake into her hands. "Here, take that. I'll get the charcuterie plate."
"The what?"
He emerged again with a large platter of meats, cheeses, and other goodies. "Yeeeeaahhhh," he sang, doing a dorky dance. "We can snack on these and maybe have some…waaaaait for it…" He went back into the trunk and came back out again with a bag in one arm. He tilted it just enough to show her the bottle inside, safely sandwiched by a few other things. "Wiiiiiine."
"You're something else, you know that?" she laughed. "Here. Let me help you carry this stuff in, you goofball." As they loaded their arms she sent him a grateful look over her shoulder, leading the way up into the house. "Thank you so much for doing this, Chuck. Really. Totally saved me from making a trip into public. Sometimes it's downright exhausting."
"Oh, I'm sure. I got a little taste of it myself at the store." She sent him a look and he shrugged, a teasingly faux-modest look on his face. "Yeeeeeah, you know, I'm, uh, kind of a big deal…amongst the nerd set."
Sarah set down the bags on the counter and slapped the countertop next to the bags for him to do the same with his bags. "Oh, I know you are."
"Aaaannndd I might've been recognized by the cashier. No biggie. Asked me about the next Nerd Model 5X, told me he was a big fan. 'In OUR house, Mr. Bartowski, we only have NTI products', he said. Sooooo, you know, fans fans everywhere fans, eh?"
Giggling, she followed him back down to his car to grab more bags and haul them up. "That's pretty cute, actually. Joking aside."
"He was nice," he said, grinning. "But pointing me out to everyone around us didn't seem to attract the throngs of fans." He wrinkled his nose cutely and handed her some bags. He grabbed the last two and closed his trunk. "Also, it might've helped him recognize me that he was putting your food into NTI totes." He gestured down at the big NTI symbol on the bags they were holding.
She giggled. "I didn't even notice that. But c'mon. You sell those, or…give them out or whatever you do with them. I'm sure lots of people have NTI totes. He recognized YOU, not your bags."
"Oh, I'm just teasing. I'm not actually—"
"I know," she chuckled, pushing through the door and heading towards the kitchen again.
"His eyes got crazy big when he saw feminine products, though. And he got all nervous and shifty." Chuck giggled. "Luckily if he tips off TMZ that he saw THE Charles Bartowski buying woman things and probably has a girlfriend, they'd go 'Who's Charles Bartowski?', so phew!"
Sarah put the bags down on the opposite counter and turned to snort at him. "Oh, what, you end up getting me some flowery shampoo or something?"
"Volumizing, like you wrote down. But I meant the tampons."
Sarah froze. Oh. Oh God. She'd grabbed the shopping list she'd already been working on a few days ago and hadn't thought to check it, instead just adding to the bottom for Chuck, and that meant… "You…bought me tampons?"
Chuck pursed his lips, then shrugged. "They were on the list. Pretty sure I got the right kind, 'cuz you specified on there. Which I appreciate because I…don't have the experience needed to know what works for every different woman. That'd…be weird." He dug in a few of the bags, then made a little AHA sound, pulling the box out. "Is this what you needed?"
"I… I mean, yeah, good job, that's the right kind. Thanks. I just…" She felt stupid, blushing. But nobody had ever bought anything like that for her except for her. Definitely not guys she was seeing, but not even female roommates or her mom. It was always something she got for herself. She wasn't sure how to feel about it, except for the shock. Because he didn't seem at all weirded out or uncomfortable as he set the box down on the counter with a triumphant fist punch.
"What?" he asked. "It…was on the list."
Sarah quickly waved her hand through the air and chuckled breathily, smiling at him. "Sorry. No, you didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't realize I had those on my list and I probably would've written up a totally new one that didn't have those on it if I'd been observant enough to catch that." Ugh, why was she blushing? This was a part of life. He obviously understood that but… "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to send you out to get me some freakin' tampons. That's so rude and weird. Sorry."
He made a face. "I don't think it's rude or weird. You need what you need. What, you're gonna make a special trip just for these? Kinda defeats the purpose of me going." Chuck shrugged, seeming totally unbothered. "Oh. 'Cuz I'm a dude, right? Am I s'posed to be grossed out or weird about this? It was just me and my sister for so long and grocery shopping was something I handled a lot of the time because she did a lot of the cooking. It was a change-off situation. I bought this stuff for my sister all the time. Still don't…really know what I'm doing unless I get clear notes about what kind to grab. Like I'm definitely not AT HOME in that aisle," he said with a self-deprecating scoff. "But I don't really care. You need what you need."
Sarah gawked at him. "Oh. Yeah, I just… didn't intend to make you do that for me. But thank you. I appreciate it."
She supposed they could just…move on from that now. It wasn't that she didn't want him getting that stuff for her, because apparently he could handle it, and he got the right kind. But… She didn't know. It was different. Highly irregular.
And she was a little gobsmacked.
"I'm not…in trouble for it, am I?" he asked, wincing.
"You're not," she said adamantly, crossing to him. "You're just the first person ever to buy my tampons for me, besides…well me. And maybe my mom when I, like, FIRST got my period at 12. So I'm a little thrown off."
"Oh. Wow. I'm honored…?" She raised her eyebrows and he winced harder. "I made that really weird, didn't I?"
Laughing, she moved up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I like you a lot. And you're a really good errand boy, by the way. Didn't realize how hungry I was for a whole platter of fancy meats and cheeses until I saw you bought one."
"Score!"
She laughed harder and they got to emptying the bags and putting away the groceries, Sarah directing Chuck around the kitchen since he didn't know where anything went. All the while, she watched him, the way he moved, the faces he made when he thought she wasn't watching. So expressive and sincere and cute. And she felt that nervous tingle in her chest ever since speaking to Tyler start to ease just a little bit.
+ —
They picked at the food he'd bought at the store, crackers, meat, cheese, and she'd sliced up some fruit as well. He'd opened the bottle of wine he bought and they sipped that as well. They stood with their hips leaning against the counter, and he noticed a quietness in her.
Was it about the fact that he bought her feminine products for her, still? Had that shocked her that much? It was interesting, he silently admitted to himself, that she'd been the one to get kind of weird about the whole thing and not him.
He saw the tampons on the list when he was at the store and paused for just a moment, before he shrugged and headed for the right aisle, glad she'd written down the exact type she needed. He wasn't just posturing with her, either, he'd really bought more boxes of tampons and bags of pads than he could remember or count. Apparently that was a super foreign concept to Sarah, and he wondered how someone who lived what might've easily been a pampered life with the fame and the fortune, who had agents and assistants and bodyguards and people doing things for her, never had anyone buy something like that for her. He had so many questions.
But he wasn't comfortable enough to ask them. He just had a feeling they weren't there yet.
So instead, he reached over and gently tucked some of her hair back behind her ear, away from her face as she chewed the cracker and salami she just put in her mouth. Her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled a little. She swallowed, licking her lips, and wiped her fingers on the napkin she'd set on the counter beside her hip.
"What?" she asked.
He couldn't help it. "Is everything okay with you?"
She raised her eyebrows. "You mean like…in general? Or right now?"
"I…don't know. " He pinched his features in confusion. "You're just being sort of quiet. Like you're in your head. I'm just making sure nothing's wrong."
"You gonna fix it for me, Tech Genius?"
She was flirting, and he loved it, but he was also being serious. He smiled at her, giving one of the drawstrings on her sweatshirt hood a teasing tug. "If I can, I'd love to do that. Not that you can't handle anything life throws your way on your own, because I'm sure you can and do. But I guess it's nice sometimes knowing you don't really always…have to do it on your own."
Sarah took a sip of her wine and bit her lip, looking down at the platter they'd made significant in-roads on. "You see everything, don't you? It's crazy, I'm usually really good at not letting stuff show." She raised her gaze to his. "I'm wondering if it's just that nobody else has ever cared enough to look that hard. Which kind of sucks. Not-Not that you caring sucks, but that…nobody else did. I don't know what I'm even saying."
"I don't know why I see stuff, I just do. So…what is it? If…it's something you wanna talk about," he rushed out, and he squeezed her arm comfortingly. "You don't have to tell me. I get it if it's a private thing."
"No, it's just…the usual shit fame brings. My agent called while you were gone and told me about an invite to another benefit but he also had to report a piece of hate mail to the authorities." Chuck immediately straightened at that, feeling his body go rigid, a protectiveness shoot through him so hard it almost felt like getting a shot of adrenaline pumped into his muscles, making them tight and ready for anything. "Tyler and his interns go through the fan mail his clients get, which is a super helpful service because some of them I really do want to reply to because they're important, and sometimes you just don't wanna see…the shitty stuff. And there's plenty of that. But I guess this one warranted being sent to the cops. I'm maybe a little…creeped out, that's all."
"It had to be reported to the police?" he asked, stepping in a little closer. "What the fuck could it have said that it warranted that?"
Sarah raised her eyebrows. "He…didn't tell me," she said haltingly. "It's happened before, nothing came of it. It's fine. It just kind of grosses me out for a bit, knowing someone out there hates me enough they send stuff like that. And sign it, with an address and everything." She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Where's your agent's office? I'd like to see this person's address," he said, gritting his teeth. "I will make sure they never send you anything like that again. Or anyone else, for that matter."
She snorted and put her hand on his chest. "This protective mode nerd thing is actually cuter than I expected, it's almost even hot, but don't worry. Okay?"
"Some asshole sends you, what, like…a threat?" She nodded and he felt heat rise from his collar. "They send you a threat and I'm not supposed to worry about you? And your bodyguard John isn't around right now, on top of all of that."
"Chuck, it's okay." She stepped in close, both of her hands settling on his chest. "I didn't tell you to make you get super concerned and get all V for Vendetta on this person who sent the threat."
He blinked. "Okay, first of all, that was an insanely sexy and surprising reference you just made there and I'm a little turned on, which is shameful considering the seriousness of this situation right now." She giggled at that, affection in her face. "But somebody threatens you and I'm not supposed to be concerned about your safety?"
"It's just cowardly bullshit. None of these guys ever do anything. It's creepy, but that's all it is. It blows over, maybe the cops find him and scare him enough he doesn't ever do it again. And it's done." She shrugged.
Chuck frowned deeply. "I swear I'm not trying to be all Macho Protector, Sarah. But I just…" He cleared his throat. "The thought of someone sending you something like that gets me heated. Like, it pisses me off to think anyone would get threatening letters from people who don't even fucking know them, but you? Especially you, I'm…I wanna jam my fist down their throat, honestly."
She sighed, a small smile on her face. "Thank you for caring. That feels good." She sighed again and slid her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, squeezing hard, trying his best to envelope her in his embrace, but it was frustrating that he only had two arms. If he had a few more, he could really wrap her up, make her feel better, less scared.
"I'm really not trying to patronize you, Chuck. That isn't my intention at all." She pulled back just a little so that she could look up into his face as he furrowed his brow in curiosity. That was an interesting way to start a statement. "You live a very different existence from mine, and for me, this kind of crap is…part of having my face and…well, my body frankly…plastered everywhere. I'm on a massive billboard over the 10 freeway with a bottle of perfume and it's…let's say suggestive." Really? Had he missed that somehow? "Millions of people drive by it every single morning, and then they drive by it again going in the other direction later that evening. When you have the kind of exposure that I have, people get…creepy, freaky. I get lonely middle aged men feeling entitled to me, creeping around my private life, and if they don't get enough of what they want from me, if they see pictures of me with some guy I make out with at a party, or somebody I date for a hot second, they flip their shit and send threats or creepy shit and that's just…part of this. I don't like it. I hate it, but you… This is a very new thing for you, you haven't been exposed to this. I understand why it's got you…"
"Rattled?" he provided. "I'm feeling pretty rattled. And concerned."
"Yeah." She pouted a little. "It's sweet." She winced. "I hear the patronizing in that. I don't mean to—"
"No, no. Hey. Listen. You're right. I don't understand. I don't feel patronized by you saying that. You're 100 percent right."
"I'm not upset with you for feeling concerned and maybe…protective?" He twisted up his face and nodded, admitting it. She giggled quietly, rubbing his shoulders and his biceps under her strong hands. "I'm telling you all this so you know the outcomes are usually all the same. They're cowards. They're not gonna actually act on this shit they send. They never do. They…usually never do." He sent her a particular look and she winced again. "I don't want you to feel stress over it. That's all. That's why I'm saying this. I don't want these frown lines between your eyebrows…" She reached up to gently poke him there. "To become permanent. And I don't want your insides all twisted up in concern or worry."
"Lookin' out for me, are ya?" he asked softly.
"Yeah, actually. You look out for me, I look out for you."
"Seems like an even exchange."
She snorted and pulled out of his arms, starting to pack away the food, cleaning up. "Not that even, though. I won't be going grocery shopping for you anytime soon."
"I wouldn't want you going into the fray like that for me. BUT you do other things for me."
"Oh yeah? What do I do for you?" She sent him a dubious smirk, grabbing a damp cloth and starting to wipe up the crumbs from the counter, reaching across the bar to rinse it from behind the sink.
"Where do I even begin?"
She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Sarah, my happiness meter is, like…bursting. Exploding. I can't remember the last time I felt so damn good."
She stopped, tossed the cloth in the sink, and turned to look at him. "So we're going with super sweet this afternoon, then?"
Chuck ducked his head shyly. "I guess so. Did you want me to go in a raunchier direction? I could talk about what you do for my sex life. It was down here…" He lowered his hand and flattened it by his knees. "And you shot it up to the moon practically." He made a silly rocket sound and whooshed his hand up over his head into space.
Sarah cracked up and shook her head. "Why do you do that? You're always bringing up how bad dating's been for you and it's really difficult for me to believe that's true."
"Why?" he chuckled. "I'm super, super busy, like, all the time. I've got work piled up in all directions around me. Admittedly, burying myself in work to avoid that part of life hasn't, ummmm, been off the table really. Like, I'll admit I did that sometimes. Sorry, Ellie, can't go on a date with your nurse friend. I've got a convention coming up soon and I haven't even STARTED on my slideshow."
Giggling, Sarah shook her head. "You work to avoid dating?" She paused thoughtfully. "In the past, I would date to avoid working. I mean, not a lot, but… Enough, I guess to make me sort of a, um, popular figure with the paparazzi. They still haven't let go of that, either. I dug my own grave maybe."
Chuck leaned against the counter again. "What's that mean?" He thought he knew what she meant, and maybe he didn't want to hear all that much about her dating life in the past, especially not her sex life. He was human, and he was overwhelmingly nuts about her, and while he'd never hold any of it against her or begrudge her whatever she got up to with other men before he met her on the beach that day a few months ago, he still felt that twinge of jealousy.
"Um…" She reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear. "I gave them a whole lot to work with, I guess. Lots of guys, some of them pretty nice, pretty great guys, some of them…eh. But I had a lot I was trying to work out. About myself. My…family. Career." She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, almost as if it was a protective gesture, a way to cover up some vulnerabilities. "It was fun most of the time. And paparazzi loved it. Shot me into the stars. I was all over, on everything. My face, my…exploits. And I've matured since I was 20, 21. Like, that was 5, 6 years ago and I've matured a lot. But they still cover me like I'm the way I was back then." She rolled her eyes. "I get a new guy and there's a chart comparing all of the men I've been seen with, 'dated'," she said, doing bunny ears with her fingers. "It's such utter crap. Like, yeah…I admit I dated Erik Brubaker for maybe two days around my 21st birthday, and then I sobered up and was like, yeah that's over sorry."
Chuck couldn't help the way his jaw fell open. She blushed and rolled her eyes. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm not—No judging. I'm not judging. But Erik Brubaker, the lead singer from…Glass Smash? Was he out of jail for long enough for you to date him for that many days?"
Sarah laughed and shook her head. "I think part of it he'd gone back in."
"You broke it off with him when he was in jail? Damn Sarah. Cold."
She laughed harder. "Shut up. I'm not proud of that but I was…drunk and going through some shit and I knew it would drive people crazy if I did it. He knew why and was totally fine with it. So credit to him." She sent Chuck a sidelong glance then. "I didn't have sex with him, if that's what you're wondering."
"I wasn't. I'm not," he said quickly. She seemed to see through his lie but was kind enough not to call him out on it.
"They treat me like the Sarah Walker who dated Erik Brubaker for two days. Still. 5 years later. It is what it is." She shrugged. "I still get really good work in the industry. It hasn't made me a pariah or anything. But it does color the way men…approach me." She sent him a shy, tentative look then and he wanted to hug her tight. "Can I tell you something? Kind of an admission. I don't want you to take it the wrong way, though."
"Tell me," he said, a little nervous about what this something might be.
She sighed. "I think one of the things that drew me to you so intensely was that you didn't recognize me at all. Like, not even a little. And you don't have paparazzi snapshots or magazine articles or billboard ads of me with perfume or…my movies, especially my movies maybe, in your head. You don't see any of that stuff when you look at me. You just see me. And that alone was almost like a drug for me. Being around someone who just sees a woman standing in front of them, and not…a movie star, a supermodel, the giant double-spread with nothing but a white bed sheet positioned perfectly to cover my private parts as I hold up my arm wearing a fancy watch I'm promoting," she said with a giggle. "Ridiculous. But it's the job." She shrugged. "You don't have that in your mind when we're together. All you have is what you've learned from being around me, talking with me…sleeping with me." She bit her lip, meeting his gaze. "You have no idea how much of a recharge it is for me, being with you."
"I can see that," he said quietly, not really sure how to take it.
"I don't want you to think that's the ONLY thing that draws me to you. It definitely isn't. But I mean it when I say it's kind of like a drug. I'm sort of addicted to it. It's so different from what I'm used to."
Chuck narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "So when I told you I made a pact with myself not to Google you so that I could get to know you more organically, that was probably like…needle straight into the vein, huh?"
Sarah burst into laughter and nodded. "Oh God yeah. Sexiest shit anyone's ever said to me." She moved to grab the leftover food they hadn't finished, heading to her fridge to put it away. He helped, handing it off to her. "I know I make for a pitiful character in some ways. I'm so not used to people just wanting to know ME, instead of just assuming I'm Tabitha Rook or Lucy Stone. Or assuming I'm down to party all the time and want to attach my face to someone else's face because all those PICTURES of me with my tongue down a different guy's throat. ExCUSE me for liking kissing."
Chuck raised his eyebrows. Were there THAT many pictures of her kissing different guys? He found he couldn't really blame her at all, not even a little. Kissing was pretty awesome. He loved it.
"You like kissing that much?" he asked. "I hadn't noticed…"
Sarah froze, and she stood up slowly, closing the fridge just as slowly. She turned to face him, a smirk making its way over her lips. "Have I been slacking with you, Mr Bartowski?"
"Noooo, no. I wouldn't say slacking. No," he teased, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose. "Just that I didn't really notice you were such a fan of kissing."
"Is that a hint?" She seemed to be taking it in the spirit of fun with which he meant it. Yet another reason why he was so crazy about this woman. Her sense of humor was top notch.
"Noooooooo." He shook his head, purposely lying horribly.
Sarah bit her lip and stepped in closer. "Well, I do really like kissing. It's one of my favorite things."
"Interesting. I'm a pretty big fan of it, too. Kissing, I mean."
"So we have that in common, then… But if you're still not convinced by my insistence that I like it so much, it sounds like maybe I have some work to do." He tilted his head with a cute shrug and she giggled, moving up on her tiptoes to peck his lips quickly. "There ya go."
His jaw fell open and then his knees buckled as he hunched forward to burst into loud laughter. He heard her laugh with him, her hand falling to his curls and combing her fingers through them as he got it all out. Standing up, glee still spilling out of him, he shook his head. "You got me. You really got me with that."
Grinning smugly, she dove in and kissed him properly. He was immediately awash with need, and he kissed her back, his mouth ravenous against hers as he clutched her tightly to him. She hummed deliciously, clutching him back.
When they broke for air, he made a quiet growling sound, biting his lip, their noses and foreheads still pressed together. He kept his eyes shut, just soaking it all in. "That's more like it…"
She giggled and he swallowed it with another searing kiss.
He couldn't help letting this all get to him and break his filter completely. It was just so good, so hot, unlike anything he'd ever felt in his life. "I've never liked kissing THIS much, though," he said in a deep, husky voice. She was really getting to him good. He felt her under his skin like fire. "This, right now, with you. It's unlike anything else I've ever experienced."
Sarah kissed him again, her mouth opening under his, her tongue seeking entrance. He met her eagerly, whimpering, tilting his head to really taste her. She whimpered back and her fingers dug into his back hard enough that he wondered if it could potentially bruise. Worth it.
They broke to suck in a bit more air and he panted, "I don't want to do this with anybody but you." He shook his head minutely and opened his eyes. Her blue eyes were looking right into his brown eyes. "Nobody but you, Sarah."
There was only a slight pause. "You better not even think about doing this with anybody else," she responded, not breaking their gaze for a moment, not even to blink.
Chuck wrapped his arms around the small of her back and pulled her in tightly, kissing her again, and she draped her arms over his shoulders, propping her elbows there, her fingers falling into his hair. He pulled back then, just enough to ask, "Is this us making this whole thing exclusive? Like exclusive exclusive?"
Sarah nodded eagerly. "Yes. Please. Now can we please go make out on my couch for a while?"
He groaned. "God yes."
She giggled as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen.
+ —
Exclusive.
He'd used it and she'd agreed to it. And sure, it was in the heat of the moment. And she made a rule of not doing big things in the heat of the moment. But Chuck had been an exception when it came to so many things, she thought she'd make an exception for him here, too.
They were exclusive.
Which meant they weren't just "dating" the way she had with…a lot of men. Not that she was ashamed of that. She could do whatever the hell she wanted.
But this was a relationship now. A real one. Which meant she had a…partner? Significant other? Boyfriend? She'd taken this step with Chuck, and she didn't quite get why it felt bigger here than it had with men she'd taken this step with a lot sooner.
Maybe because she'd never wanted anyone to be hers as much as she wanted Chuck to be hers. So she'd tiptoed around this, because wanting something this bad WAS sort of scary.
Maybe this wasn't THAT big of a deal though. Exclusive was already what was happening. Not in ANY universe, alternate or otherwise, would she have dreamed of even looking a certain way at another man let alone dating and/or sleeping with him… not after that night when Chuck first put his lips on hers, when he touched her, the way she felt in his arms, the way he buzzed underneath her. More than all of that, though, she wasn't interested in anyone else after she met him. She didn't know how she could ever want to date someone else after experiencing firsthand how sweet and disarmingly thoughtful the tech CEO was.
She wanted him so bad. Nobody else would do.
So of course they'd already been exclusive. Had he…? She inwardly shook herself. Of course he hadn't been with other women in this time. He'd brought up how bad he was at dating, how little time he had for it, multiple times now. Earning her eye roll every time.
She was sure he'd dated plenty, been through the ups and downs of good and bad relationships.
That aside, Chuck Bartowski seemed like an inherently loyal kind of guy. Trustworthy, steadfast. The type of guy you didn't have to ask, he'd be right there by your side and wouldn't waver in his support.
No way would he have dated another woman the past few months while they explored…this. Whatever this was.
She still wasn't sure even after both of them said they were exclusive now.
But exclusive wasn't a big deal, right? It was a baby step.
She didn't have to be so scared.
Who was she kidding? She wasn't scared that they were exclusive, it was everything she was feeling that went along with it. He made her insides SING.
When she wasn't with him, she wanted to be. She wanted to be with him so bad that it had the potential to be a sort of distraction.
And maybe the cure was to stick around him as much as possible?
She smirked and rolled over a little bit to cuddle in closer to him. With them lying on her couch, there hadn't been much space between them anyway.
Chuck tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her temple. "Okay?"
"Mhm," she hummed, shutting her eyes and clinging to him. "Even though you're making me watch some weird cartoon."
"This isn't some weird cartoon, Sarah. It's—You know what? Never mind. I've got a better idea." He began squirming oddly against her, maybe trying to get up from the couch? She didn't know but it struck her as funny and she laughed. "Stop la—I'm trying to get up without knocking you off the couch."
"You could just ask me to let you up, you know?" she chuckled, beaming at him as she sat up and let him do the same behind her.
"I—Forget it." He smirked, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. "I need to go get something out of my car."
"Oh. Ooookay." She gave him a funny look and he chuckled.
"It's just something I brought from my condo. Don't worry, nothing crazy." He made a face. "Maybe a little crazy. You're gonna laugh at me maybe. But still… be right back."
He went towards the doorway leading in the opposite direction of where she figured he was trying to go since he said he was getting something out of his car. So she cleared her throat. "Uh. Chuck?"
"Yeah?" He spun on his heel to face her, his hand on the door frame.
"If you're going to the garage it's that way." She pointed at the other doorway. "Down the hall, turn right, staircase down to the garage."
He blinked, peeked into the next room over where he'd been headed, then blushed, turning to go in the right direction. "Right, right. Right. Got it. Cool. Down the hallway. Then to the right. Stairs. Okay. Ahem. This place is…sprawling. I'm…an idiot. Heh. Okay bye."
He was gone then, leaving her giggling, still sitting on the couch. Pursing her lips, she narrowed her eyes and climbed up to stand next to the couch. And with a mischievous glint in her eye, Sarah Walker followed silently.
+ —
Chuck was rattled as he leaned down to grab his backpack from the floor where he'd stuck it when he got in after showering and changing his clothes. Sure, maybe grabbing extra stuff was a little…too much? Presumptuous? But she didn't need to see any of this.
It wasn't weird to bring things they could use to entertain themselves, something for them to do while they hung out together. Not at all. Sure, maybe bringing the entire case of hundreds of DVDs was a bit much. But what was he going to do, take some of them out and dangerously toss them in a bag all haphazardly so they could break? Of course not. So he brought the whole case. It just meant they had options.
He unzipped the backpack and realized he'd stuck his pajamas and extra boxers and the rest of the clothes he'd packed on top of the case, which meant he needed to take those out to get to the DVD case.
Rolling his eyes at himself for his lack of planning, he pulled out the stack of clothes and set them on the seat next to the backpack, and then he hoisted the case out and stuck THAT on the floor in front of the seat, before he snatched the clothes back up and—
"I probably shouldn't make any assumptions about why you have extra pajamas, should I?"
Chuck's eyes popped and he froze.
She'd followed him. Oh shoot. Oh no. Ooooh no.
She was going to think terrible things about him now.
Clearing his throat, he pulled out of the front seat of his car carefully, watching his head to make sure he didn' bump it, and he turned around to look at her. He realized then that he took his pajama pants with him, still clutching them in his fist. "Um."
He shoved them back into the car, not really knowing where they landed.
She gave him an amused, expectant look, leaning back a bit jauntily against the nearby pillar.
"I didn't hear you…come down here." That was the dumbest thing he could've said. It made this worse.
A smirk widened on her gorgeous face. "I'm barefoot. And I've been walking down catwalks since I was, like, 15. There was no way you were gonna hear me coming. So PJs, huh?" She raised her eyebrows.
How was he so embarrassed, and still so insanely attracted to her, all at the same time? Was this witchcraft?
And that thought suddenly made a chuckle burst out of him. He ducked his head, then shook it, blushing. He knew he was bright red as he looked up at her, twisting his face up in embarrassment.
"So…about that. Um… That's a backpack."
"Yeah, I saw it. Looks like a backpack to me."
Could he successfully lie to her and tell her he kept this in his car all the time due to late night meetings at work or times he'd gotten caught in weather storms and needed to find a hotel? This was Los Angeles. There was no getting caught in a weather storm here. That was stupid. And it was stupid to try to lie to her about something like this. It was stupid to lie to her about anything at all.
"Okay, so… I just thought I'd have them in case…you…"
"Have some expectations about tonight, nerd?" She was absolutely teasing him. And that felt like a good sign. She wasn't upset with him for this, at least. But it was still pretty embarrassing, getting caught out like this.
"Not expectations, no. I'm—I must seem super presumptuous. But I didn't mean it like that. I didn't just ASSUME I'd be staying. But I thought I'd have extra stuff handy, you know, in case… Well, in case. In the far-off chance you asked me…to stay. Again. I just wanted to be prepared."
"You really did not enjoy the experience of wearing John's clothes, did you?" she asked, her voice crackling with glee.
"Not really, no. It's…kind of weird."
She giggled, grinning at him. "That's fair."
He groaned quietly and turned back, reaching in to grab the PJ pants and glancing down at the red and black plaid cotton. "Sorry. I really wasn't trying to be presumptuous."
"Just prepared," she added, nodding. "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about."
"No, I know. I can tell. Still, I'm a little…uh, humbled."
She pouted and pushed off of the pillar, quickly closing the distance and putting her hands on his chest, moving in close. "No, I didn't mean to make you feel humbled. That wasn't what I meant to do. I'm just teasing." He nodded as she paused, her gaze darting to the side. "I can handle myself. You know that, right? I mean this thing with the jerk sending the letter. I'm totally capable of taking care of myself. Defending myself. I took a lot of fighting classes, did a lot of training, while I was making those Rook and Stone movies."
"That's extremely hot," he couldn't help saying, earning another giggle. "But even without that knowledge, I'm positive you could kick just about anybody's ass. So yeah, I know you can handle yourself." Something occurred to him then and his eyes widened. "That isn't why I brought extra clothes!"
"I know, I know." She rubbed his chest under her hands. "All of that was to say…" She looked shy suddenly as she glanced to the side again. "I'm not afraid for my life or anything. But I also wouldn't mind not having to sit around alone with my thoughts going…haywire in my brain." She said it quietly, and he wanted to embrace her so hard he felt almost crazy with it. "What I mean to say is…Chuck, I would like it if you did stay. Not just to distract me or keep me from being alone with my thoughts, but just because I like having you around. So if you'd like to make good on…uh, these…" She snagged the PJ pants in her fingers and tugged cutely. "You're invited. I'm inviting you. I'd actually really like it if you did stay over again. If that isn't too…" She bit her lip and tilted her head, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Intense? Spending the night two nights in a row…?"
"Invitation accepted," he said adamantly. "Yes, please. Yes. I want to. Please. Yes." Her giggle was heady as he dove in to wrap her up in his arms, pressing his lips to her neck. "Mmmm," he hummed, dotting kisses up and down her neck, to her throat and back again. "I can find…" He kissed her jaw. "So many ways…" He kissed her chin. "To distract you from your…" He pulled back and looked into her sizzling blue eyes. "Thoughts."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Definitely," he said, his voice deep, almost even a little dangerous.
He felt her shiver in his arms.
"Then I have one question for you…" she whispered, moving up onto her toes and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his chin.
"What's that?" he asked lightly, his voice quivering with need.
"What's in that black case?"
He keeled over in laughter, wondering if Sarah Walker had been spending WAY too much time with him to crack a bubble-bursting line like that, and wondering how he could ever not want to spend every single moment in her presence from here on out.
Appreciate the readership. I'd love a review if you can.
SarahsSupplyCloset