A/N: Just finished the last chapter to this fic. It's five total. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
Chuck sat on the beach letting out long breath. "You okay?" he heard her ask. He could hear the humor in her voice. "Chuck, it's just a bathing suit."
"Sarah…" Chuck replied, but that's all he managed to get out. "I mean, it is great for spying."
"Why do you say that?" Sarah asked.
"Because I don't think many men will be able to describe your face," Chuck told her. Sarah couldn't help but laugh. Yes, she had worn a black bikini to the beach. Yes, she had asked Chuck to rub suntan lotion on her legs, making them seem to shine. Yes, she felt his hands shake as he rubbed it on her legs.
"Is that because I'm lying on my stomach, and you can only see my legs?" Sarah asked. Chuck started to turn to her, realized how much of her backside he could see with her wearing that bikini, and quickly turned back around. "Hey," she said softly. "We are married."
"I am a lucky man," he muttered, making her laugh again.
She pushed up on her elbows, and looked at him. He turned to look her in the eyes. "I think I would be the lucky one," she told him. Chuck started to argue, but she continued on. "Chuck, again, you're kind of a catch. Hell, not kind of. You are a catch."
"So are STDs, but," Chuck began, but stopped, trying to protect himself, as she flung some of the contents of her water bottle at him. "So, who am I supposed to be watching?"
"There's supposed to be some men that come to this shop regularly," Sarah told him. She grabbed her paperback, into which she had slipped the mission notes, so she could read them without anyone noticing. "They should be here in the next ten minutes or so."
"That shack over there selling frozen ice?" Chuck asked, nodding toward it.
"Yep," Sarah said. "I don't know how to hide the flash."
"Most men will think I just glanced at you, and… well, you know," Chuck said.
She looked at him, confused, and then snorted as it hit her. She sobered quickly and gave him a questioning look. "Wait. Is that… is that how you look when… ?" She burst into laughter at the shocked look on Chuck's face. He shook his head. She reached over and took his hand.
"You are my wife, you should know," he muttered, then quickly wished he hadn't when he thought about what he had just implied. To his surprise, she was laughing again. "Some people might think we're a real couple."
She squeezed his hand. "If at any point during all of this, it gets to be too hard, you need to tell me."
"I'm not touching that line," Chuck muttered, making her laugh again. The laugh died in her throat, and a look of anger crossed her face. Chuck turned to see what she was looking at. As he saw the man Sarah was looking at, the flash took him.
Neil Thurston. Gunrunner. Suspected to be a drug trafficker. Known associates came into Chuck's head, and that lead to a separate flash of many of his associates being arrested. The person responsible for the arrest: Amanda Carter.
"You okay?" she asked. He looked over at her. She was now sitting right beside him. He tried to look her in the eyes. He tried. But his eyes betrayed him, and looked down at the top of her left hip. There, he saw just the slightest bit of skin discoloration. It was white, and led under the bikini. It was where she had been slashed. "Chuck?" she asked softly. The worry for him was gone. The worry on his face… it was different.
"That's Neal Thurston," Chuck said, looking her in the eyes. "He's a gunrunner, possible drug trafficker. He has a whole lot of known associates that were arrested some time back."
"Chuck?" Sarah said again, her face pale. The man walked back past them, having left the stand.
"Please don't follow him," Chuck pleaded.
She stared at him, set her jaw and spoke. "Amanda Carter."
"A mash-up of the character Samantha Carter that was played by Amanda Tapping. She was the science officer on Stargate SG-1," Chuck answered. "Weird you'd ask me that…" The look on his face betrayed him. She knew that he knew what she meant when she asked.
She sat quietly for a second. "Louise Simmons," she said. Chuck didn't answer. "Samantha Lisa Bennett," she said in a low voice.
"Sarah," Chuck began.
"You didn't flash," Sarah said in the same low voice. "Either you don't know, or you've… you've already flashed."
"Sarah," Chuck tried to continue, but she shook her head. He saw the frustration on her face.
"I need you to go back to the room," Sarah told him.
"Sarah," he began again.
"To the room, Chuck."
"Please don't follow him," he said softly. He gathered his things, heading back toward the hotel. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her walk away, thankfully away from the man who had cut her years ago.
}o{
She walked along the beach, her arms wrapped around her. Not because she was cold, but because she needed the security of the only person she trusted right now. And God, did she even trust herself? Tears threatened to come to her eyes, but she refused to cry. Not even angry cry. No, not angry. Furious. She thought he was different. She thought he was the one good man she could trust, and what did he do? He did exactly what she feared. He learned about her past, and now, this… stunt he pulled, it made all the sense in the world.
He didn't want her to have a choice, he wanted her to leave, because… because he was frightened of her? Sickened by her? Repulsed by her? All of the above? Hell, she really couldn't blame him, because until she met him, that's how she felt about herself.
And then she met him, and he had chipped all that hatred, loathing, and disgust of her away. She wasn't proud of some of the things she did. The men she had killed. The women she had killed. But she had done it because if she hadn't… there is no telling what other crimes those people would have committed. She gave a derisive snort. She knew he wouldn't believe it, but there was every chance she had saved the world. And no one could know, because she wasn't officially there.
When she came to Burbank, this was supposed to be an easy job. This was supposed to be something to give her a break, while still working.
What a load of shit that was.
She had fought off warlords, a ship full of lunatics, stopped a revolution with a fork. She had saved a child from the Ten' ruki Bratva. She had to kill every member of that last group that held the child, or today would be on the run for the rest of her life.
When she met him, he was amazed by her. He didn't know a fraction of the things she had done. She was sure he would freak out to know that she had some secret service protection under her belt. All the late nights during stakeouts or just them hanging out to protect the cover, and them talking. She found herself sharing things that weren't top secret with him, and the pride on his face as she talked, or the look in his eyes… they made her think that she wasn't this repulsive killing machine. They made her think she was worthy of the other looks he gave her. The ones that he tried to hide, but a blind woman could see.
She knew he cared for her… at least she thought he did. Damn it, she wasn't being fair. He had learned about that last trip to Miami, and hadn't known all the killing. All the fighting. She remembered how scared he was when, early on, he learned about France. How he had freaked out. Why should this be any different?
Why? Because he had made her believe. He had made her believe she was worthy of those looks… those looks of love. The sudden insistence that she get her choice. It all made sense now. She frightened him. He was frightened, but couldn't tell her. He treated her like everyone else that knew about her.
He treated her like Wayne, her first boyfriend after she joined the CIA. The computer analyst that she had dated, who had looked up her record on a whim, and suddenly wouldn't return her calls. She had never known him to be like that, became worried, and tracked him down.
She still couldn't get over how a smart guy like him didn't think a CIA agent could find him. He admitted to her, that while he liked her, she was too much for him.
That had hurt. A lot.
She had told Carina, and the redhead told her that's why she treated men like underwear. Some of them look pretty, some of them made her feel good, some of them were ratty but did the job. But in the end, they all needed to be tossed in the laundry.
Of all Carina's weird analogies, that one might have made the most sense.
"What's a beautiful woman like you doing all alone," she heard a voice behind her.
She rolled her eyes to the heavens. In what world would a man see a woman, with a look on her face that clearly said she wasn't in the mood, crossed arms and just giving off a don't fuck with me vibe, think that she wanted to talk to someone, much less be catcalled.
"Don't," she said softly, but loud enough where she thought he could hear her.
"Don't be that way, baby," the voice said behind her. She slowly turned and saw the man standing there. "I don't know who made you look this mad, but I can make that frown turn upside down."
She was silent for a moment, and he began to speak again. She shook her head quickly, and violently. He didn't speak.
"I am very angry right this moment," she said as calmly as she could. "If you speak to me again, if you move toward me, if you even think of some dumb ass sexual innuendo, I will hurt you. Are we clear?"
"I'm okay with a little pain," the guy said, a shit-eating grin on his face. Sarah sighed, holding out her hand. His grin grew as he reached toward her. Two seconds later found him having been flipped in mid-air, landing on his back side, her foot on his throat. Her hands then twisted his wrist, making him turn, trapping his other hand under him.
"You're lucky. I am so mad at him right now. But then again, if I hurt you because of that, he would be upset with me. As mad as I am with him, I don't want him to be upset. So, I'm going to ask this once." The man gurgled, and Sarah eased up the pressure on his throat. "Are you done?"
"Yep!" the man squeaked. She shoved his arm down and moved her foot off his throat. He gasped and rolled over on his back. "You're crazy," he muttered. She jerked her body like she was moving toward him, and he screamed, backing away on his hands and feet as quick as he could. Turning, he ran off.
"Yeah, I am," she muttered. "Crazy that anyone could love me." She turned and continued her walk. She thought back, remembering that after Wayne, there was no one for a while. Then, she decided to try again, this time with Dan. They had fun. She never talked about her work. She constantly steered the direction of conversation away from what she did. It was going great. She wasn't in love, but she was happy. She felt like a real girl. And then, one night, she had to miss dinner because of an urgent situation. For five days she was off the grid for the mission, code named Ocelot. When she returned, he was furious.
She refused to tell him where she had been, only that it was for work, and he had to trust her. She told him she was in the CIA. He didn't believe it. He refused, and broke up with her. She had literally saved the world, and lost her boyfriend in the process. At the end of the day, he wasn't a huge loss. She had simply lost the belief that she could ever have a normal relationship with anyone.
"Which led to Bryce," she muttered. She and Bryce… God, what a recipe for disaster. A relationship consisting of convenience, and her belief that someone like him was the best she could do. Someone who knew who she was, what she was, but even then… even then, she made him feel threatened. He knew she was the best at her job. A job very few in the world could do.
Chuck had once told her that while he hated working at the Buy More, there were few people who could do what he did. Most would have gone crazy with the antics of that crew. Most would have just mailed it in, but he was determined to help people. He wanted more in life, but he was good at what he did.
Sarah understood. She was damn good at her job. Infiltration, sabotage, recovery, reconnaissance… killing. She hated the last part. She didn't think she had ever killed anyone who hadn't deserved it, but she didn't like it.
In fact, she hated it.
She understood Chuck being afraid of her, or disgusted, or whatever his issue. But what hurt the most – the part she found almost unforgivable – was that he hadn't had the guts to tell her.
She sat on the beach and stared out over the water. "But to be honest," she said softly to herself, "I haven't really admitted I feel the same way about me."
}o{
He was pacing. He had unpacked, rearranged the drawers that his clothes were in. Went and got ice. Went and got ice again, because he drank cold water. Went to the bathroom several times, because of the water and the nerves. Then started the whole cycle over.
He was mentally kicking himself. He was going to tell her that he knew everything if she had decided to stay. He wasn't going to tell her before because he was afraid it might influence her decision. That's the last thing he wanted. Everything she had done in her life had been because some man had basically forced her. Her father, Langston Graham, Bryce… the hell if he was going to be that guy.
But what he could not have foreseen was the moment on the beach. He grabbed the ice bucket and moved to the door, opening it before jumping back, shocked that she was standing there looking for her key card.
"Hey," he said. She nodded as he backed up, and she came in. She grabbed her bag and walked into the bathroom. He shut the door, laying his head against the cool wood. "Of all the screw ups you've had in your life, this might be the biggest," he muttered to himself.
The door opened, and she walked back into the room, having changed out of the bikini into shorts and a tee shirt. She dropped the bag on the floor, which he took to be a good sign. "Sit," she said, pointing to the bed. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, please sit. We need to talk."
"Okay, but what if we sit at the table with the chairs?" Chuck asked. She looked over at the table, and he saw a questioning look on her face. "To answer the question you may have," he began as she turned back to look at him, "I have no idea why a table and chairs are in a honeymoon suite… but I have cleaned it off three separate times with disinfectant." She didn't smile, but the corner of her lip twitched for just a moment.
He took it as an internal victory.
She nodded, and he moved over to the chair furthest from her. She sat across from him.
"I need to get all of this out, okay?" He nodded. "I get it, Chuck. I get that I am not the best person." He wanted to disagree, but he kept his word… as hard as it was. "I get that I have done some terrible and sickening stuff. I get all that and why you don't want to be around me. And I will go. I will let you have your freedom from me, but do you know what hurts the worst? I thought… I thought we were friends… were close. I know we're not supposed to be. Hell, everything we've done we probably shouldn't be doing. But I thought you could at least be honest with me. I thought you could tell me. And I get it, maybe you were scared. Maybe you didn't want to hurt me, or were frightened by the thought of what I might do if you rejected me. I get it. I know I'm not worthy of being with someone-"
"Hold the hell on," he interrupted. He wasn't loud, but he was intense. "Now I'm not sure what you're thinking. I'm okay you think bad things about me, but you don't get to do that to you." She pulled her head back, confused. "You're not worthy of being with someone? You? You, Sarah Walker? Hell, there's probably no man, or woman, for that matter, worthy of being with you."
Her mouth dropped.
"I know, I love superheroes. But never, and by God, I mean NEVER – and trust me, I have a wild imagination – Did I think, not only would I meet one, but they would surpass every dream I had of a superhero," he went on.
She pointed at herself, unable to speak.
"Hell yes, you!" He slapped the table with his hand to emphasize his point. He winced and shook it, then continued. "The things you have done, the people you have saved-"
"The lives I've taken, you mean," she interjected. "There's so much you don't-"
"Ocelot," Chuck countered, his voice low and intense. She stared at him, speechless. "You saved the frakking world, and no one knows."
"I think that's a little blown out of proportion," Sarah said, still taken aback.
"Oh, you mean that you snuck aboard a ship that had been disguised as an American Aircraft carrier, took on twenty-five mercenaries-"
"I said it was twenty," Sarah muttered.
"The official report said twenty-five," Chuck countered. She shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "After you had picked off several, they began to notice no one was responding to the radio, and found some bodies-"
"I'm telling you, I thought I had hid them all, but all I can figure is some blood came out of one that was in a locker. That's the only way I can imagine they found them," Sarah said, defending herself.
"Well, it's real life, not a video game. Stuff happens," Chuck said. "Anyway, they set the timer on the bomb, and began to flee the boat. You shot the guy trying to escape in the helicopter, commandeered said helicopter, and shot those in boats. And then…" He paused, looking at her. "Why don't you share the rest with the class?"
She stared at him, sighed, and began to speak. "I landed the helicopter, turned the ship around so that it wouldn't go into Russian waters," she began.
"And why did you do that?" Chuck asked.
"Because if that nuke had gone off in Russian waters, it would have started… I don't know," Sarah said.
"It would have started a war, Sarah," Chuck said. "Possibly a World War."
"Maybe," she said with a shrug. Reaching across, he put his hand on her hand that had enclosed the other. She looked up at him, in his eyes. "Okay, probably," she admitted. He nodded, and she continued. "Once I was sure it was out of Russian waters, I got back on the helicopter, and launched an Exocet at the boat, causing it to sink. I flew out of there, and the weapon exploded underwater, where no life was lost. Excuse me, no human life. A lot of fish…?" She shrugged.
"You stopped World War III, and it's not even in your official file," Chuck said. "You are a superhero."
"And you're scared of me," Sarah said, leaning toward him.
"Yes," Chuck said. "You are the most bad-ass, amazing woman I have ever met. You have a giant heart, a beautiful soul. You are funny, witty, and just an amazing person, so yes. I'm a little scared of you."
"I'm a ruthless killer," Sarah countered.
"That baby with your mother doesn't think so," Chuck retorted. She was silent at that. Straightening, she took a deep breath, put her forearms on the table, and leaned toward him.
"Then why are you trying to get rid of me?" Sarah asked.
"I'm not," Chuck argued.
"Chuck, the only thing that makes sense in this entire situation is that you flashed on my past, became scared and are trying to get rid of me," Sarah said. "And if so, fine. I understand." She paused, and when she continued, she looked him in the eye. "Just be honest with me."
"Sarah, I'm not, I promise," he replied.
"Then this makes no sense," she said, leaning back, shaking her head. "Just tell me what is going on. It's me, Chuck." Chuck looked conflicted, then rolled her eyes and sat back. "God, is this what it's like for you?" He looked at her, confused. "Everything is trust me, trust me, and when you ask for the same…" She blew out a rough breath.
"I think we both know this is a little different," Chuck countered. "I think we both know when it comes to trust, you're talking about you have my back and my life, no questions asked."
"What's more important than that?" Sarah asked.
"You sure you want me to answer that?" Chuck asked. She nodded. "Your heart." She looked away. "You're mad at me because you think I'm scared to talk to you about not wanting you around. I do want you around, but you must decide what's best for you."
"I can't decide if I don't have all the facts," she said, exasperated.
"Well, if I tell you, I'll be just like them!" he replied. He realized what he had said, and cursed himself.
"Wait, what?" Sarah said, sitting back up. "What do you mean you'll be… you know everything, don't you?"
"Sarah," Chuck said, and then couldn't continue.
"You know everything that is in my file," Sarah told him.
"It wasn't on purpose," Chuck blurted out. "It was… it was after Awesome's ring fiasco, and I invited you in. You said it was only for family, and… Sarah, you're family." He searched her face for any clue, but it was a mask. "Damn it, I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be another man in your life controlling you."
"Telling me you want me to stay in controlling me?" Sarah asked, confused.
"Another man getting from you what they wanted," Chuck corrected. "The two most important men in your life have used you to get things that best suit them. How can I love someone, and do the same to them? How can I want what's best for you, if I only use my influence on what's best for me? When do you get to decide what you want to do, Sarah?"
"How is you deciding not to tell me these things not making a choice for me?" Sarah countered. Chuck started to answer, thought about what she said, and blinked. He looked at her, horror coming over his face. "It's okay. Now please, tell me the truth."
"I've been having flashes about you ever since Longshore… Casey as well," Chuck said.
"Why?" Sarah asked.
"I'm not sure," Chuck said. "I think it has to do with emotion. I think I've realized some things and…" He trailed off, not able to look her in the eyes.
She reached over and took his hand. He looked at her. "That someone does care for you?" she asked. He nodded. "What if that someone leaves, doesn't that screw up the Intersect?"
"First, I don't care," he began. She smiled at that. "Second… just because she left, doesn't mean she doesn't still care. Sometimes… sometimes things don't work." She nodded. He cleared his throat and continued. "It started out about small things. I was thinking about the dumpster, and how much you hated it, and then I flashed on a leech that attached to you."
"Oh, God, I had tried to forget about that," Sarah said.
"After that… well, they all started coming, one after another. And to see everything you had been through…" He shook his head. "You know what, I said I wasn't going to say anything to keep you here, to leave the decision up to you, but after hearing what you said earlier, I think you need to hear something." He paused. "And hell, for all I know it may make you want to leave even more."
"I doubt it," she said softly.
"How could I not love you for being the person you are," Chuck said to her. "How could I not want the most amazing person I've ever met not to live their dreams, fulfill their aspirations, to do everything that they want to do?"
"That's twice you've used that word," Sarah said.
"Is that your way of saying not to use it again?" Chuck asked. She was silent, then shook her head. "Sarah, I've seen it all. I've seen every report… at least I think I have." He chuckled. "There were a lot."
She raised her eyebrows as she nodded. "I'm good at what I do," she said with a shrug.
"No, Sarah, you are the best," Chuck told her. "And you don't get to be the best while you're here. You guard me, and you're the best at that, as well. But what does the world need? What does Sarah Walker need?"
"She doesn't really exist," Sarah said with a shrug.
"Yes, she does," Chuck argued. "I've noticed you've kept being Sarah." She shrugged. "I think you like something about it."
"I don't know that I did before, but I do now," Sarah said. She looked him in the eye. "It's who I was when I met you."
"You care for me, and I care for you. We both want each other to be happy," Chuck said.
"I don't know what to do, Chuck," Sarah admitted. "This is the hardest assignment I've ever been on."
"Because of me," Chuck said.
"Yeah," Sarah said, nodding. "And I wouldn't change it for the world, but if I stay…"
"If you stay, you might be stuck here forever, and if something…" he trailed off.
"If something were to happen, and it doesn't work, I'd still be here watching you try to have a relationship with someone else. Or you watch me try to have a relationship with someone else," Sarah said.
"I don't want to influence you," Chuck began.
"Tell me the truth," Sarah said, looking him in the eye. He looked at her, confused. "About what you said."
"What I said twice?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded. "Sarah Walker, I love you."
She sat there, took a deep breath, began to reply, when there was a familiar knock on the door. "He's got some great damn timing," Chuck grumbled. Sarah nodded. Chuck got up, walked over, and opened the door to let Casey in.
"Don't know what happened to your two ear buds," Casey said, walking in, holding a microcard in his hand. He snapped it, dropped it on the ground and smashed it. Sarah and Chuck's eyes went wide. She reached up to her ear, and felt it in. She pressed a button turning it off. Chuck scrambled to the table that was by the bed where he had put it after returning to the room, and turned it off as well. "Made a bunch of weird noises, and then just couldn't understand anything."
Casey looked at Sarah, and she nodded. He turned to Chuck, and Chuck nodded. "Thanks, Casey," Chuck said.
"Don't mention it… ever," Casey replied. "We're still good for the mission?" He looked at both, who nodded. "Great." He walked to the door, then paused. "So, anything anyone thought they heard, or saw," Casey stressed looking at Chuck, "we're never gonna talk about." Chuck nodded. "And we're not going to share with anyone else that it's not their business?" Chuck nodded. "Good," he chirped, and left the room.
Chuck turned to Sarah. "Well now I have to know what you saw in that file," Sarah told him.
Chuck shook his head. "While I know you'd never physically hurt me… him… him I'm not so sure."
She walked over and patted his chest. "We do have a mission."
He nodded. "We do."
"But don't think for a moment I'm not thinking about this," Sarah told him. "I know what I want to do, but I'm scared."
"You know, that could be either decision," Chuck said. She shook her head and started to speak. "Don't," he insisted. "You've gotta do what's best for you."
She didn't answer, she just pulled him into a hug.
