A/N: Second to last for this one. A little late because we had a busy day today. This finishes on Thursday. Final Exam chapter this weekend, though I can't promise I won't write a happy, quick one-shot to counteract that misery-fest. We'll see. Thanks for your support of this story.
Work Number Six: Feed the Hungry
I wake to a soft, wet tongue licking my face. I open my eyes to see Barney, his chin on the bed at eye level with me. He is wiggling with glee, his tail wagging furiously. The light in the room tells me it's still morning, but later. I feel rested, comfortable, feeling Chuck beside me, tucked behind me, the large spoon. I giggle at how adorable the dog is.
"Someone has to go out," Chuck says, his voice scratchy from sleep, close to my ear.
I feel the space as Chuck climbs out of bed. I turn to watch him as he moves, naked, across the room to his dresser. He is comfortable, relaxed with me, ignoring his state of undress. My body aches as I gaze at him, how beautiful the lines of his body are. He dresses quickly, then turns and tosses clothing on the bed next to me. A pair of his boxer shorts and an old sweatshirt. "Come on," he whispers, winking at me and motioning to the dog.
I dress in his clothes, sighing at the delicious way they smell of him. The shorts fit me comfortably, and I swim in his sweatshirt, but it's nice. One of my bare shoulders peeks out as the wide neckline dips down.
I follow Chuck out into the kitchen, then down the stairs to the lower level, as he walks with the dog. Once we are outside, Barney takes off running at full speed, his furry legs a blur as he charges toward the ocean.
The air is cool, but comfortable for this summer morning. My bare legs aren't cold, even as the breeze skims by us from the ocean. Chuck takes my hand, threading his fingers into mine. I laugh as I watch Barney, flapping in the water playfully.
It feels natural to laugh, though honestly I can't remember the last time I have. It's been years and years. It had never occurred to me before, what a tragedy that is, to not remember the last time I laughed.
"I love your laugh," Chuck sighs. It only exists, here at this moment, because of him.
"The water is freezing! He's just romping around like it's nothing!"
"He's a lab. He has a layer of fat under his fur. He doesn't even feel it." Chuck smiles. "They're hunting dogs, you know, going after game or whatever. He loves the water. He loves the rain, the snow…I can't keep him away from it."
My hand is still attached to his and he pulls me closer, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the top of my head. I tilt my head up and kiss his lips. I feel an unfamiliar tenderness between my legs, along with a throbbing desire I can't deny.
I don't have any plans, no deadlines, nothing. It's never been this way for me. It's like we exist out of time, for it doesn't bother me in the slightest how loose everything has become. I feel free…finally free, for the first time in my life.
"Take me back to your bed and make love to me again," I whisper against his lips. It sounds louder than I intend, against the swishing of the waves on the beach behind us.
He hums pleasantly, pulling me closer. "When Barney's done swimming…I'm all yours."
He continues kissing me, and his hand slides from my back, down my ass and to my thigh. He slides his hand under the hem of his boxer shorts that I wear, touching me intimately, though his fingers are so gentle, like he is wary of my potential tenderness. He massages me perfectly, sliding his finger inside me as I come, leaning against him for stability.
I wonder if the dog can sense how impatient we are, because he dashes by us, streaming water as he goes. The dog stays on the lower level, effortlessly understanding that he is wet and not allowed upstairs. The pathway from the stairs all the way to his bed becomes a walking bout of foreplay. We are naked by the time we are standing in his bedroom and I fall with him onto his bed, straddling him.
He lets me be in control this time. I am impatient, aching for him. He holds my hips as I slide down on him, sighing with pleasure as he fills me completely.
"I love this view," he says, chuckling, though his voice is tight from desire. "God, you're beautiful. Did I tell you that?"
I lean forward on his chest to kiss him. I rock back and forth, up and down, a circular rhythm that he enhances with his own movements. His hands and his mouth are all over me, something I already know I love about how he is with me, how much more I want.
This is the position in which I have always had sex before, but it is different with him. He craves my pleasure, gasping as he feels me contracting around him as I climax. "Take as much as you need," he gasps, encouraging me to continue. Two more times, and I'm moaning loudly, so wet the sound of him thrusting is audible.
"Come inside me," I direct him, utterly satiated and wanting to share in his pleasure again. I have never felt this way, about anyone. I love him so much, and I tell him as he finishes, filling me with his warmth.
I lay in his arms afterward, slowly catching my breath. I could spend all day like this, making love until we are exhausted again. But this time bubble won't last forever. "What are we doing today?" I ask finally.
"We need to have breakfast. And then we need to go shopping, at the store for sundries, and online, considering you only have the clothes you wore here last night." His hand caresses my back. "I'm sure they've towed your car away from the beach parking lot by now."
I stiffen, but he taps my nose gently. "It's fine. In no way traceable to you."
"You said Graham thinks I'm in New Jersey." He nods. "So…what do we do now?"
"We shower and then eat breakfast." He is so calm, so nonchalant. "Don't worry, Sarah. I promise. I have a plan. You're safe."
All of me is safe. My body, my heart. Everything has changed, in less than a day.
We make love again in the shower and then I am ravenously hungry. He makes me a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. We sit at his table together, side by side instead of across from each other. I giggle at how I need to be so close, but he agrees.
Ravenous is not the word. I realize I had gone an entire day without eating a bite, agonizing about what I needed to do. I've gobbled down everything and I could eat more. I steal the last bite from his plate and he offers to make more, but instead I grab a peach from the bowl on his counter. It's plump and juicy, the fuzz slightly prickling which tells me this is local, not from a supermarket. I don't just bite it, I suckle it, as the juice runs down my chin. I reach for a napkin, but he leans forward and kisses the juice trail.
I think of hunger, the nature of it, and its profound. The lack of food went unnoticed in my quiet desperation. Hunger is something made worse when it is focused on. I know the truth–I have been hungry for all sorts of things, starving all my life, slowly emaciated, malnourished. Hungry for affection, hungry for attention, hungry for salvation…hungry for love.
Chuck has fed me breakfast, eggs and fruit. He has nourished me with his love, his understanding, his acceptance of me the way I am. I am enough for him. He has filled me up, every need I had never been aware of now satisfied.
I hear a noise, like a phone is ringing, but the sound is not quite familiar. Chuck stands and opens a drawer in the kitchen island. He smiles at the screen, then motions for me to come closer as he answers it. He activates the speaker phone.
"Hi, El," Chuck says lightly.
My eyes almost bulge. How is he so casually interacting with his sister like that? He has shown me he is impervious to surveillance, but I'm still frightened.
He whispers to me, holding the phone away. "It's encrypted. Not traceable."
I cannot forget he is still the Piranha. What does he mean? He has constructed a network of his own, through the computer, probably hacking into a communication satellite for the duration of the call.
"Chuck, is everything alright?" I hear Ellie ask. She's worried. "You said you would call and…"
He blushes and it's the sweetest thing imaginable. "I'm sorry, El. I got…distracted."
"Well, what happened? Did you—"
Chuck cuts her off, smiling at me. "Hold on. Before you say anything else, I'm not alone."
Ellie gasps. "Sarah?"
I'm shaking, suddenly nervous, knowing what she knows. I am an assassin, sent to kill her brother. She means everything to Chuck; what she thinks of me matters. I cannot start on the wrong foot. I'm flustered, not sure what to say.
But, wait. I remind myself Chuck did this, led me here and told me the truth, because his sister knew from speaking to him that he had feelings for me…just from reading my file and watching me while I was watching him. She told him to find out for real.
"Hi, Ellie," I say softly.
"Chuck?" I hear her breathing heavily, needing to know more.
"It's alright, Sis. I promise. I followed your advice." His voice wavers as he tears up. "It turns out…she felt the same. You were right, about everything."
Ellie squeals unbelievably loudly. "Oh, Chuck. That's…that's…what happens now?"
She sounds so happy, it boggles my mind. I can't resist speaking up. "You're really ok with this, Ellie?"
"I wouldn't try to explain it to anyone, only because it sounds crazy to people who don't understand." Her voice softens, sweetens. "But I know my brother. Better than anyone. And he was…transformed…whenever he talked about you. He's never been that way about anyone before."
"Even though he never met me?" I believe it, my feelings undeniably strong, but to the outside world it is quite strange.
"He was convinced you were a good person. He trusted his impression of you. He was willing to do anything to keep you safe. Anything."
"The fact that she felt the same…that was just a miracle." He sighs, his eyes dreamy as he looks at me.
"So are you done? Is it over?" Ellie asks. What does she mean?
Chuck's face becomes serious. He exchanges a look with me, a look that lets me know he's talking to both of us.
"Now that she's here with me, I can knock over the first domino. It's almost over, Ellie."
She's crying when she continues. "So you can come back to California?"
"If my girlfriend doesn't mind." He's smiling at me. His girlfriend. It's meaningful, but at the same time, not enough. He is my heart. And I am his.
His future wife, the future mother of his children…his love. I am all of these, and more. His love has no bounds, no conditions.
"I've never had a home. Until I found Chuck."
He blinks slowly, his eyes misty, and Ellie squeals again, only softer.
"Be safe," she pleads. "And I'll see you soon." Hope.
It's contagious, airborne now. It's beautiful.
When I can speak, I ask, "What was that about?"
Chuck smirks, his eyes glittering. "Graham's just desserts."
I have lived in fear of the man for as long as I can remember. Chuck has freed me of him, but could it be, all along, Chuck has been waiting to strike? The Piranha finally showing his teeth?
"All of the information he never wanted me to see. I can release it to the public. You're under my digital umbrella. That was all I was waiting for."
Everything? The news would blow up the internet, blow up the world.
"I have everything. The information about Bryce is enough to do him in. The CIA devours their own, don't they?"
Proof that Graham tortured and killed one of his own agents, because that agent was protecting a civilian…
Graham would be disappeared so quickly he wouldn't have time to react. Or to know who it was who took him down.
I'd seen it before. A press release, a stepping down, maybe a fabricated scandal…and no more Graham. No one would ever know the truth.
But Chuck and his family would be free.
"Are you ready?" Chuck asks me. He's about to digitally slit Graham's throat.
He waited to make sure I was safe before dealing the death blow.
I take him in my arms, kissing his cheek. "He did that to himself, Chuck. He caused it. His depravity was a choice." I don't want him to feel guilt for exposing Graham.
"I know."
I see it, hear it. He knows, but he is so kind, so gentle…he hates causing harm, even to someone as evil as Graham. He abhors it, but he does it because it's necessary to protect his family. To protect me.
I realize with a start—there is no distinction any longer. I am his family too.
"I love you," I whisper against his ear.
"And I love you," he answers.