A/N: Sorry a bit late again. My real job pays the bills and someone went out on maternity leave 10 weeks early, so we've been scrambling. Anyway, here is the second part of Seduction. Just a few little weird things cleared up. Why couldn't Chuck reach Beckman? Who heard what over the coms was always in question as well. Here goes.
"What the hell is this?" Roan yelled, his voice slurring in his semi-sober state. "A photo shoot for Cosmo?"
Casey spun and growled, almost showing his teeth. "Quit yapping and get ready to go." Casey tucked his phone away and Chuck and I separated. I hated the breeze I could feel against my back once he wasn't holding me any longer.
"Go where? What are you doing at my home?" Roan drunkenly demanded.
"General Beckman recalled you, Montgomery," Casey snipped.
"Diane Beckman?" he piped back in disbelief. "Since when is she authorized to give me orders?"
"Since Graham got blown to bits by Fulcrum," Casey growled. "Did you miss that somewhere in your drunken stupor? Some of us have work to do." Casey's patience had worn completely away.
Finally, Casey got Roan in the car. The ride back was very quiet. Chuck was in the backseat with Roan, with the window rolled down in case Roan got nauseous. I was up front with Casey. Casey was convinced that it would take until the next morning for Roan to possibly be of any use to us, and Casey was right.
Chuck went back to his apartment from Casey's and I went back to my hotel room for the night. I dreamed of the feeling of Chuck's arms around me, the way they had been for the photographs. Holding me like I belonged to him…like we belonged to each other. It was physically painful to feel the way I did about him and have to keep it bottled so tightly inside.
I went back to Casey's first thing in the morning, hoping that Roan had slept off the alcohol. Beckman called right after I arrived. Roan was still out, and we were in the process of telling her that we were unsuccessful in reviving him for duty…when he came downstairs.
He had grabbed one of Casey's nicer suits; luckily Roan and Casey were roughly the same size. He strolled down the stairs looking like a million dollars, no evidence of his intoxication apparent at all. He gave General Beckman a look, a seductive greeting, and she was giddy as a school girl. I was amazed; I had no idea she was capable of displaying any emotion, let alone something so blatant that she was fussing with her hair nervously while she was on camera.
The discussion turned to Sasha Banachek, the purpose of our extraction of him in the first place. The idea of seducing the location of the cipher out of her was the plan. Roan was known to her, and had been the reason why she had been in a Bulgarian prison for seven years. Roan made it clear we needed someone innocuous, someone she wouldn't suspect of being an agent. Casey and Beckman both volunteered Chuck at the same time.
I bristled a bit. I hated the seduction missions I had been sent on, despite the fact that they were few and far between, and even more so since I had been stationed in Burbank. Sending Chuck on a seduction mission was a bad idea, but I was overruled. Perhaps I didn't argue as fervently as I could have, for fear of some other emotion showing through if I did–jealousy, or even my own feelings for him.
I had faith in him, I truly did. He had developed so much in the year that he had been working with us. But even when he became one of the best spies the CIA had at the time, Chuck never played that angle. We found ways so that neither one of us had to do those things once we were together. Chuck was pure hearted, even when he was lying for his job. He never lied about how he felt about anything–he couldn't. That was just one of the things that is so amazing about my husband. He was the only person I have ever known who never changed once faced with the harsh realities of life as a spy. He promised me once he would always be the guy that I met…and he never, ever broke that promise. Even when I broke the most basic of promises to him. But that's for later as well.
"Chuck?" Roan sputtered. "You mean that gangly kid from the backseat?"
"Chuck isn't…gangly," I defended. "He's…lean." I stopped myself before I started gushing. Roan raised an eyebrow at my delivery of that. Then he shifted his expression. "He just might do the trick."
Casey left to go get Chuck at the Buy More.
Casey returned with Chuck, but then had to leave again. Roan and I were supposed to explain the plan to Chuck and coach him for this type of mission. I explained everything to Chuck. He was going to find Sasha at the bar, try to go upstairs to her room to see if he flashed on anything.
He was leaning against the wall in his apartment, his shirt untucked and his hands in his pocket, slouching a bit so we were at eye level. He couldn't get over his insecurities, wondering why someone like her would allow him to pick her up. He was just a few inches from me, in his disheveled Buy More uniform, and he was so attractive to me it was distracting. There were a thousand things I could have told him that would all have been true. I never got the chance to answer, though.
Roan interrupted, telling Chuck we would coach him to be different. Coach him to be like Roan. He started by instructing Chuck how to drink a martini like a spy. Then he told us to get to work.
He wanted to do a practice run, so he pretended the bar in Ellie's kitchen was an actual bar. Chuck and I sat next to each other on the stools while he acted as the bartender. Roan asked Chuck straight up how he would seduce me, if I were his mark.
He was joking about his bedroom eyes and his eyebrow dance. He did this little thing with his hands, "firing the guns" as he called it. I giggled like a little girl and blushed. He was adorable and sexy at the same time…and he literally had no idea that he was, or that I thought that about him.
Roan got testy, snapping at me not to encourage Chuck. I reacted like I had been scolded by my teacher at school. I don't know why he evoked that kind of response from me, but he did. Then Chuck was serious, and explained how he would try and talk to Sasha, making her laugh or talk about music.
"Be yourself?" Roan said. "Do you think a woman like this," Roan gestured at me, "would ever fall for a guy like you?" He ended by gesturing at Chuck.
Chuck looked at me out of the corner of his eye, the background of our real situation ironic in the moment, something Roan had no idea about right then. I know I blushed furiously at those words, and I faced forward quickly, afraid if I looked at Chuck any longer Roan would see something I didn't want him to. Roan started to put Chuck down, but I jumped to his defense, almost without thinking.
"Passionate and sweet and caring," I said. I heard the words, wondering from what depths inside me they had come from, why I had ordered them the way I did. Passionate…He most certainly was. Passion, not as in romance specifically…but his approach to life. He felt things deeply. Chuck gave me a sweet, dreamy smile after he heard me say that.
Roan put him down again, saying tall, dark and caring in a sarcastic manner. Oh, Roan, you have no idea, I thought to myself. Roan thought I was just like all the other women he had been seducing his entire career, even though I was an agent myself.
I wouldn't let Roan get the last word. I spoke up again. "I didn't mean it like that. He has a lot to offer," I affirmed.
I could see Chuck out of the corner of my eye, how his demeanor changed. He was genuinely surprised when I said that. Just like in the Chinese restaurant when I had told him I thought he was fantastic. He had no idea what I really thought, what I really felt. That knowledge was both comfort and sorrow. I was doing my job, hiding my true feelings from him. But I was hiding my true feelings for him.
Roan then told me to kiss him. I felt feverish almost instantly.
Chuck started rambling, gulping, stuttering that wasn't necessary. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to contain himself if he kissed me. I knew that. Dear Lord, did I know that. I was so warm, so heated, I also didn't care if he couldn't. I wasn't sure I wanted him to contain himself. Even if Roan was watching.
Roan went on about whether or not Chuck found me attractive, how important it would be on the mission for him to be able to kiss Sasha. I interrupted Roan and told Chuck it was ok. I wanted him to kiss me. I was on fire with that desire. I don't think he could tell, but I was. He was so nervous and awkward, he leaned over, looking away, and pecked just the corner of my mouth.
Roan had had it. He flipped out on Chuck, and Chuck then freaked out in general. He was arguing full force with Roan, trying to stop Roan from walking away from us. We both jumped up from our stools and partially followed Roan.
"You really want me to kiss her?!" Chuck shouted at Roan.
"Desperately," Roan teased.
"Fine," Chuck growled through gritted teeth.
Before I knew what was happening, Chuck grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me close to him. I should say, I had been manhandled like that before Chuck did that, and unfortunately again after Chuck did that, but he was just…different. How else could someone grab you like that, and yet be gentle? But he was. He is the only man I have ever known who mastered strength and gentleness simultaneously the way he did.
There was no space between us where I stopped moving forward. Just like that, his hand was on my face…and his lips were on mine…and he kissed me.
Remember the other kiss? Well, I learned here, every time Chuck kissed me, he kissed me like it was the last thing he was ever going to do in his life. Passionate…yes, that is my Chuck. His other hand was on my back, holding me against him. My hand was on the back of his head, his curls soft under my fingers. He opened his mouth and I could taste him. He tasted the same as he had before, as he did in my dreams. I forgot Roan was there. I forget everything except his mouth on mine, and the throbbing of my pulse between my legs.
Chuck was the one who sort of came to in that moment, realized what we were actually doing. He stopped kissing me and slowly pulled away. I didn't want him to stop. I almost whimpered, but I swallowed it down. I felt Roan staring at us. Had he seen too much? Damn it, what did I just do? I thought.
Roan congratulated Chuck, I think. All I know is I excused myself as quickly as I could, giving some line about fixing my lipstick. I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. My legs couldn't hold me, they were trembling so badly. I had to sit on the toilet seat to catch my breath. I know I was in there a long time, too long to just be fixing my lipstick, but I was afraid if I couldn't collect myself I would kiss him again. That would open the floodgates, and I wasn't prepared for the flood, not here, not like this.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Roan and Chuck were finalizing the plans for the evening's mission. Roan left to go back to Casey's. I said goodbye to Chuck too quickly, rushing out the door to follow Roan. Chuck looked confused, but he just let me go. I wondered if he thought I regretted the kiss. I did, but only because I knew how dangerous it was. If I hadn't left right then, I would have been alone with Chuck in his apartment…with the taste of him still on my lips.
Kissing him again would have ended in his bedroom, in his bed, which would have been an utter disaster. I only realized afterward that Casey had heard that whole exchange on the surveillance feed. And, while I was out of the room, Roan apparently commented to Chuck that a kiss like that seemed like it had happened before. Casey already knew from listening to my video log, but another reminder only hurt my cause.
I went back to my hotel to get ready for the mission. I needed a cold shower, I told myself, before I went on the mission as distracted as I was. I needed relief, and I ended up on my bed with my vibrator pulsing inside me until I orgasmed, wishing with all my might it was Chuck inside me. The pressure was gone, but as always, I was only partially satisfied. I showered, but let the water run cold at the end, trying to reset my body.
Chuck was still on my mind while I was getting dressed. Not only thinking about him, but thinking about his mission. I started to worry.
I had never seen Chuck kiss anyone before, although I'm sure he kissed Lou on their date. I would later see him kiss Jill, his ex-girlfriend, once, but that was it. Everyone I had ever kissed, Bryce, Cole, and Shaw, even Manoosh…almost every other kiss I'd had, Chuck saw up close, although I found out he had seen me kiss Cole much later than it happened. Those situations were uncomfortable, painful…like torture.
I didn't know that would be how I felt here, but I was worried just the same.
Once night had fallen, we were back in Casey's apartment, getting Chuck ready for the mission. Casey and Roan had procured a dark, three piece suit and a dark shirt for Chuck. He looked amazing dressed like that anyway, and the dark tones complimented his coloring. I think Roan had personally doused Chuck with cologne, so his overall aura was thicker with it, dizzying and almost hypnotizing. We made sure he was ready, and outfitted him with an earwig.
Chuck did much better this time, pretending that the kiss earlier never happened, or wasn't real, wasn't what it had really been. I don't blame him; the last time he had tried to attribute more meaning to a kiss like that had been a few weeks of tension and trouble. He had learned to keep it to himself.
I was the opposite. The more I kissed him, the harder it was to ignore it, or pretend. I don't know what he saw on my face, but I could see that smoldering heat in his eyes when he looked at me. I struggled to keep calm and neutral, the heat inside me from before threatening to return.
Chuck was trying to lighten the mood. He commented about our relationship, his and mine. How it might not have been steamy, but it was strange. I quickly made a joke about Morgan to aid in the mood lightening, but…the truth was, it upset me a little. Being strange, abnormal, was a curse, part of what I had always accepted about myself from before, however reluctantly. Being with Chuck had made me think that normal…whatever that looked like, was at least possible. Whenever he said things like that, it made me question, made me think I was deluding myself.
I tried to put him at ease, telling him to not listen to Roan about his ability to charm this woman. He looked so…unsure, so down on himself. I reached for his tie, smoothed it down, almost before I could stop my hand. That craving to touch him was too much. I don't know if he ever realized that was why I always did that, or if he just thought his tie was always crooked. I did tell him his charm worked on me, because it did. I don't know if that was the right thing to say, the spy-handler thing to say, but it was true. And I thought he needed to hear that.
Roan appeared and started to talk about the dangerousness of the situation. That Chuck needed a gun, that his mark was dangerous. Chuck was alarmed. I felt like kicking myself. What was wrong with me?
We were sending him on a mission, a dangerous mission, and there I was, trying to make him feel better about his charm. Interjecting my own feelings, when I should have been preparing him to do his job. Every time I let myself feel better about us, something like this reminded me why we couldn't work as a couple, not in the situation we were in. Like soaring towards the sky, but on a tether, then crashing back to the ground. It happened a lot before we were finally together.
We drove to the hotel. Roan and I stayed behind in the van and Casey was set up as the bartender. Casey usually ate in the van when we were holed up in there–Roan was drinking. I found it a bit unprofessional, to tell the truth. Who brings a martini glass and a shaker on a surveillance op? A raging alcoholic, apparently, which Roan was at this point in his life. We had witnessed the bender first hand, but I don't think we saw the full extent of it, how he had ended up off the radar to the point that we needed to extract him the way we did.
Roan was mumbling about Chuck not surviving the night as we watched Chuck make silly gestures in a mirror in the hotel lobby. I had to remind Roan that Chuck could hear him, then I had to reassure Chuck that everything was going to be fine. Roan continued to coach Chuck. Of course, it failed at first. Roan's go-to was alcohol, surprise surprise, and Miss Banachek no longer partook. Chuck recovered fairly quickly, all things considered. Talking, actually conversing, was Chuck's strong suit. He could really talk to you and make you think it was just small talk. When he wasn't nervously rambling, he was devastatingly charming, funny, and witty.
After Sasha had walked away from him, Roan coached him again. His advice this time was to go back after her, take control. That every woman wanted to be rescued. Now that was an old-fashioned load of shit, I'm sure something he had convinced himself of long ago. I think it was more like he wanted to be the one who was seen as the rescuer, convincing the woman (or the mark) that she wanted to be rescued, even if she didn't.
I told Chuck straight out on his mic that some women preferred a gentleman who could take a back seat. I said that because I was trying to put him at ease. His swashbuckling side was very underdeveloped here. It grew as he grew as a spy. That was his general nature, his heroism, his innate goodness that gave him strength he wouldn't have otherwise had, but he was still honing it.
Roan made some stupid comment about not meaning me. Like he knew anything about me. He didn't. Although, I found out later, he saw through my façade and realized my feelings for Chuck were real. That didn't take a lot of spy work, though. Everyone knew that–Ellie, Devon, Morgan, Casey, even Diane Beckman…and Jeff Barnes, for god's sake. Graham had known.
To be fair, Roan was sort of right. I was no damsel in distress, and I never wanted to be handled as such. I could take care of myself, and I always had, since way before I should ever have had to. I thought about the relationships I'd had in the past, what passed for relationships in my past, anyway. Sam was different, because he was my first; he had control in our quasi-relationship. Being with him made me realize that wasn't how I wanted to be with a man, helpless like that. So with Bryce, I needed to be in control. When we had sex, my pleasure was up to me, not him. I never relinquished that control, even when I had been aware that it could have enhanced my pleasure during those encounters.
Chuck changed that, but, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, he changed everything. Not just for me, but everyone he interacted with.
We were back at listening to Chuck interact with Sasha. Roan coached him, but his intel was out of date. I had to scramble to get him the correct information, but once I did, Chuck did excellently. He broke through and was drinking with her.
Unprofessional again, Roan started to ask me personal questions, while we were still in Chuck's ear and he was trying to get to Sasha's room. He called out my feelings…with Chuck listening. I did my best to do damage control, explaining my reactions towards Chuck as me being protective of him as an asset. Then Roan dumped his martini on the soundboard and shorted it out, leaving Chuck with no back up. I scrambled to get the audio back up as quickly as I could.
I didn't know how much Chuck had heard and what was cut off.
I found out later that my voice cut back in when I was angrily repeating to Roan that Chuck was just an asset. Not true of course, not true in the slightest. If Chuck had heard our entire exchange, he might have realized how exaggeratedly I was arguing. He was very tuned in to how I felt, even when I was trying to hide it from him. But that line, shouted the way I did, hurt him like nothing I had ever said to him before…and I didn't even realize it. When he finally talked to me about it, he told me it felt like I had kicked him in the stomach.
Casey was quick to declare the mission failed. I never got confirmation if Chuck could hear us again…but I blurted out my reservations in an even angrier voice. I yelled at Roan that I told him Chuck was an analyst, not a spy. Talk about making a bad situation worse.
Hindsight is always 20/20, though, right? Chuck was still smarting from that comment I made to him about Bryce in the Orange Orange about Chuck not being a spy as the reason why we couldn't be together. What I had just shouted was like rubbing salt in an open wound after twisting the knife inside it.
It made him angry enough that he disregarded our call for abortion of the mission. He charged after Sasha before Casey and I could get into position. Apparently, Roan coached him to be a bastard, which I guess he did fairly well. He was fuming mad, so I can see that.
Casey and I caught up to Chuck as he was entering the elevator with Banachek. She was kissing him passionately. He was…awkward. His eyes were open and he was looking at us. But he kissed her back, just as the doors were closing.
Something inside me snapped. My blood was rushing through me, my envy almost overtaking me. Random thoughts were in my head. Did he look like that when he kissed me? Was he kissing her the same way he had kissed me, both times we had?
I was dangerously distracted, and Casey knew it. He didn't say it explicitly, but he knew I was off my game after seeing that. We were in the stairwell when I reminded Chuck to see if he flashed on anything in her room, which was the original goal of the mission. I think he was looking, maybe even found something…because he panicked.
We were caught by Banachek's men outside her hotel room door. The last thing I heard before we lost contact with Chuck was the fact that Sasha figured out Chuck was working with Roan. I heard her say "Don't beg for your life, Mr. Carmichael."
But then…nothing.
We were disarmed and shackled and Sasha brought us into her hotel room. She took my earwig. Apparently Chuck thought he was speaking to us, but she alone heard him. He had to have gotten the cipher away from her, which was amazing…but she was using it as a ransom to get the cipher back. And Roan was nowhere to be seen.
Casey and I were held at gunpoint and ordered not to talk to each other. We were being watched far too closely to escape our bonds. Any sudden action by us would have been met with lethal force. Our chances of getting out this alive had diminished rapidly. I hoped Chuck could get help from Beckman. That was our only shot. Roan seemed to have abandoned the ship.
While we were held captive, I do know that Roan went back to Echo Park to reconnoiter with Chuck. When we were sitting on the beach, after Chuck had found me once I told him I needed to be alone to think, he told me this part of our story, part I had never known the first time around. Roan actually made Chuck face the fact, for the very first time, that he was in love with me. Ellie had mentioned it to him before, but her reasoning was his apparent spacing out on their plans, and while she may have been right, he didn't accept it for real until this moment.
Chuck also gave Roan a wake up call during that conversation, about his sorry state. Turns out, that backhanded pep talk was what put Roan back on the right track for good. Chuck at his best, once again, saving the world, or Roan this time, in one two minute conversation.
Roan asked him if I was worth dying for.
He said yes. And he meant it.
He would prove that to me over and over again. He knew that when Zarnow tranq'd me and shoved me in his trunk over a year ago. The direct question made him realize it once and for all.
We were up all night, uncomfortable and tense. We were hooded and shoved in a van, then in another car. I had no idea where we were. It was a very helpless feeling. I was exhausted, starving…and afraid. Not so much of dying, not really. My life had been forfeit for the greater good long ago. I think what I feared most was what Chuck said to me he felt when he was dropped off the roof.
I didn't want to die before I had the chance to tell him how I felt about him. Specifically now, knowing what he thought. I wanted to tell him he was not just my asset. He wasn't just anything. He was everything. Sun, moon, stars…and everything in between.
I know Chuck tried for hours to get in touch with Beckman, but she was indisposed, which was unusual. He was on his own, and his plan, without Roan's help, would have gotten us all killed. Fortunately, that talk worked, because it sobered Roan up, literally, and got him involved in the rescue plan.
The next evening, we were relocated again. Casey and I were sitting outside, shackled with our hands in front of us, waiting for Chuck. I was hoping there was some kind of plan involved, and secretly hoping that it wasn't just Chuck who had done the planning. Someone showed up with a phone in a sealed package. Casey and I were surprised. Banachek was instructed to take us to the Buy More in Burbank. I felt instantly better. There was a rescue plan in place, however mish-mashed it could be.
Banachek and her men brought Casey and me inside the Buy More, now closed for business due to the hour. Once we were inside, Chuck showed up on the video monitors. One of her men surprised Chuck while he was talking. I don't know what was part of the plan and what was improvised, but Chuck took off running and eventually ended up trapped on the roof of the Buy More.
When Banachek was about to eliminate us, Roan made his presence known, and held his gun to her head. There was a melee, fists and guns flying. Casey gained the advantage, and Roan actually never lost his, but Sasha grabbed me around the neck and held a gun to my head, using me as a hostage. Roan was talking to Chuck as Sasha was backing me out of the store. I don't know what he said, or what it was supposed to mean, but Roan was telling Chuck what he needed to do to save me. I heard him tell Chuck, "It's time to be a spy."
She was about to pull me back into her limousine when I heard Chuck's voice. He had tied the assistant manager banner to his waist and jumped off the roof. Banachek was just stunned enough that I was able to push away from her moments before Chuck literally swash buckled into her and knocked her out.
He ended up on his back on the sidewalk. I ran to him, terrified. He was unconscious, dazed I think. I grabbed his face, shaking him gently. I know I called his name, perhaps too desperately, but I needed to know he was alright. He had just saved my life…perhaps in the most dramatic way yet. He was ok. I couldn't take my hands away from him, couldn't stop touching him. If Roan hadn't been standing over my shoulder, I would have kissed him for all he was worth.
In the morning, we had our briefing with Beckman. She apologized for being unavailable the day before, blaming an aide who was no longer employed by the NSA for not following proper procedure. Apparently, Operation Bartowski was a code red with the agency, meaning short of pulling her out of active surgery, she was to be informed and interrupted at all times when a call came from one of us. She did blame the lack of familiarity on the switchover and lack of leadership at the CIA. She made it a point to congratulate Chuck on recovering the cipher.
Most importantly, Casey made it a point of commending Chuck in front of Beckman. It didn't register at the time, but I know now he did that because he knew the cipher in possession of the government again would mean Chuck's life had a new expiration date. Like I said, it was never an issue again once Graham was dead, but he said that here to be certain.
Before we signed off, Chuck asked the general to help him with a project for his sister. Devon had wanted to do something romantic for Ellie, but didn't have the time. Chuck was so sweet, so thoughtful, as always. He asked the CIA to help set up his apartment in the way Devon had wanted to do for Ellie but hadn't had time.
We were back at Echo Park just in time to see Ellie's reaction to the elaborate setting. Devon was stunned, but I know he thought Chuck did that to help him. That's what Chuck always did.
The mood between us was light, upbeat. I thanked him for saving my life. He said, with emphasis, that he knew he was just an asset, which keyed me in to what he'd actually heard and what he thought. He was teasing, but he asked me if I had ever seen anything like what he had done.
I could feel the electricity between us. "I think it's safe to say, Chuck, that I've never seen anyone quite like you," I told him, knowing my emotion was showing on my face, but not caring right at that moment.
Roan interrupted us as he came out of Casey's apartment. I said goodbye to him, and then more reluctantly, to Chuck.
I went back to my hotel room to find the door unlocked, a way I would never have left it. I drew my gun, making sure I was alone in the hallway. I bumped the door with the gun…only to be grabbed from the side…by Bryce Larkin.