Sarah tugged at the sleeves of her crimson suit as she paced the VIP room of her club. She had changed after Chuck dropped her off, convinced her discomfort stemmed from Carina's low-cut top. But even now, in a perfectly tailored suit, she felt wrong. The fabric clung too tight, the sleeves dragged at her wrists. It was as if her own skin didn't fit.

She turned to the full-length mirror, seeking reassurance. The reflection was flawless, just as it always was. A confident, controlled woman stared back at her. But tonight, it felt like a mask.

Carina sat at the conference table, studying the blueprints of the CIA substation, her focus undeterred. Sarah should be there with her, plotting their next move - breaking in, stealing the Intersect plans. But she couldn't focus.

Not with the last twenty-four hours replaying in her head.

Running instead of fighting. Chuck's flushed face when she teased him. Sharing a bed. Waking up on his chest, warm, steady, safe.

She never stayed the night. Never let herself linger. Yet with Chuck, it had been different. His steady heartbeat had lulled her to sleep, and before she knew it, she had been draped over him, as if she belonged there.

She didn't.

The woman in the mirror - the one in the crimson suit, the one with the smudged smoky eyes and the perfectly cinched belt - didn't wake up in someone's arms. Didn't long for something beyond the Syndicate.

Jack's words cut through her thoughts like a blade.

It didn't make sense. Chuck was raw, unguarded in a way men like them weren't. If he was lying, if he was playing her, wouldn't she have seen it?

But Jack had been right before. Again and again, he had saved her life with his instincts. Could she really ignore them now?

Her heels clicked against the floor as she paced, the sound filling the silence between her and Carina.

She looked at the mirror one last time. The Ice Queen stared back, a woman who never hesitated. Who always knew what to do.

Sarah turned away. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure if she trusted the woman in the mirror.

"Chuck got to you, didn't he?" Carina's voice cut through the quiet, making Sarah's shoulders tighten. She could ignore a lot of things, but not Carina seeing right through her.

"He does that," Carina added, eyes locking onto hers.

Sarah exhaled heavily, forcing herself to meet Carina's gaze. "He does."

Carina's mouth twitched—part amusement, part pity. "It's too bad, really. You both need some fun in your lives."

Sarah frowned. "Why is that bad?"

Carina chuckled. "Because neither of you could handle the other."

Sarah turned toward the mirror, her own reflection unsettling her. Chuck wouldn't stand beside the woman in the suit staring back at her. That was what was throwing her off - and she hated how much it bothered her.

"Why couldn't I handle him?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. She wanted to ask what kind of woman Chuck was after, but that felt like a step too far.

Carina's expression softened, turning almost wistful. "Because you can't fall in love."

A rush of anger coiled in Sarah's stomach, her fingers twitching as she resisted the urge to throw something at Carina. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was sharper than she intended.

Carina rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Blondie? Chuck might be here now, but this isn't his world. He cares. Deeply. And he makes people care about him." She hesitated. "That makes him a liability."

Sarah's jaw tightened as she stepped toward the table. "Is he a liability to you?" Jealousy flickered through her.

Carina's eyes flashed in challenge. "He is not a liability." A pause, her voice softening. "…But he is a weakness."

Carina looked away, and Sarah pounced. "So you love him?"

A laugh escaped Carina as she shook her head. "More than you could guess, but not in the way you mean."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Carina leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Answer for an answer?"

Sarah crossed her arms but nodded.

"Alright. Yes, I was in love with him when we were together. Yes, I still love him. No, not that way." Her smirk softened into something more serious. "He's my Chuck. I don't know how else to explain it. But I do know…" She met Sarah's gaze, voice firm. "That he would do anything for me. And I'd do anything for him. And that's a weakness."

A beat of silence stretched between them before Carina tilted her head. "My turn?"

Sarah pursed her lips but nodded.

"Have you ever been in love before?" Carina's tone was casual, but her gaze was razor-sharp.

Sarah felt something cold settle in her stomach. Love? She'd loved her mom. Her grandma. But that wasn't what Carina meant. Jack… her father had been complicated. Bryce? Lust, maybe. But love? She scoffed internally at the thought.

"How would I know?" she deflected.

Carina smirked. "So that's a no."

Sarah bristled. "That's not a no. That was a question."

"If you had been in love, your answer would've been yes," Carina said simply. "It might've hurt, but you'd know."

Sarah's throat felt dry. "If you already knew, what was the point of your question?"

Carina shrugged. "You're the one asking about Chuck. So… what do you feel about him?"

Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "I barely know him."

"That's not an answer. Try again."

"I don't know," Sarah admitted, voice quieter than she wanted.

Carina's brow lifted. "Better. But still not an answer."

Sarah let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. He confuses me. He's… nice. And funny. And that's not something I'm exposed to a lot." A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down. "Maybe it's just the idea of something different than this."

Carina blinked, then grinned like a cat who just caught the canary. "Oh my God. My nerd melted the Ice Queen."

Sarah looked away, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Shut up, Red."

Carina's grin widened. "Oh my God, you're absolutely smitten."

"Smitten?" Sarah shot back, narrowing her eyes.

Carina shook her head in disbelief. "Smitten like a goddamn kitten." Then a slow realization dawned across her face. "Oh my God, I can't wait to tell Chuck."

Sarah's eyes widened, panic flaring in her chest. "You can't."

Carina's smirk turned downright wicked. "Oh, but I can."

A chill ran through Sarah as a new fear took hold—Chuck finding out before she even had the chance to figure out her own feelings. "Please, Red. Just… don't."

Carina's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Relax. I'm not going to tell him directly." Her smirk deepened. "But I am absolutely going to wind the two of you up."

Sarah exhaled, half in relief, half in exasperation. And then another thought hit her. "You really don't mind this? I mean… you two are close."

Carina waved a dismissive hand. "Like I said, I'm not in love with Chuck anymore." Her tone grew serious. "He's not going to be in this world forever, and this is where I belong. I'm pretty sure it's where you belong too. But if Chuck is a reason for you to leave it…" She hesitated, then nodded. "I wouldn't stop either of you. Just… be sure of what you want."

Sarah sighed. Be sure of what you want.

She turned back to the mirror. The woman in the suit looking back at her wanted one life.

Did she?

o-o-o-o-o

The sun peeked over the horizon as Sarah stepped in front of Jack's warehouse. The salty tang of the ocean mixed with the acrid bite of diesel fuel, carried on a brisk morning breeze. She tightened her grip on the paper coffee cup, the warmth seeping into her fingers as a poor defense against the coastal chill. Shadows clung beneath her eyes, remnants of a restless night spent unraveling the enigma of her new driver.

The sentry at the entrance straightened as she approached, his hand drifting toward his jacket before recognition flickered across his face. The wind caught her blonde hair, whipping it into a wild halo around her. His posture relaxed, and without a word, he rapped his knuckles against the warehouse door. She offered him a curt nod before stepping inside, welcoming the reprieve from the relentless gusts outside.

Inside, the warehouse buzzed with activity, more structured and efficient than the chaos of yesterday. The markings on Jack's whiteboard had been crystal clear to her - it was shipment day. Behind a wall of stacked pallets, the rhythmic hum of counting machines provided a steady backdrop, verifying that the counterfeit cash from China matched the manifest.

Jack would be here for this. She was certain of it. And she needed answers before she faced Chuck again.

Striding toward his office, she spotted him through the window, his gaze sweeping across the warehouse floor. He caught her eye, one brow arching before he tilted his head toward the door in silent invitation.

Sarah inhaled deeply, steadying herself before turning the doorknob.

"Morning, darling," Jack greeted, leaning casually against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. "Didn't expect to see you here today."

"I need to ask you about Chuck. Without him here." Her voice wavered, betraying the nerves she fought to contain.

Jack inclined his head, just slightly. "Bit of a surprise, considering how you stormed out yesterday." He unfolded his arms, gesturing in a show of openness. "What do you want to know?"

Sarah pressed her lips together, then released a slow breath. "His parents."

A shadow passed over Jack's expression. "That's not… entirely safe to talk about."

Her stomach tightened. "So you were the one who had them killed?" The words tumbled out, raw and jagged.

Jack's eyes darted toward the door. He raised a finger to his lips, then strode to the window, pulling the blinds shut. The slats clicked into place, casting the room in dim, suffocating light. Beyond the walls, the hum of counting machines continued, a cold reminder of the business they were entangled in.

He turned back to her, and for the first time in years, he looked old. "No," he said, voice quieter now. "But I knew about them. They were killed for being feds."

Sarah stiffened. "Chuck's parents were feds?" The pieces snapped together in her mind. "That's why you thought he was one."

Jack nodded. "Exactly."

Her jaw clenched. "What changed?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. "You."

Sarah exhaled sharply. "That's not an answer, Dad."

Jack chuckled, the sound low and familiar. "No, I suppose it's not." He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Come, sit."

She hesitated before sinking into the seat, taking a deep sip of coffee. The rich bitterness cut through the fog in her mind. Jack leaned back in his chair, studying her.

"I've made more bad decisions in my life than I can count," he admitted. "You haven't. Yesterday, you trusted Chuck over me."

Sarah wrapped her hands around the cup. "So you trust me more than you trust yourself?"

His gaze held hers. "Darling, you've never steered me wrong."

A lump formed in her throat. "Tell me about Chuck's parents. The truth, Jack."

His mouth opened, then shut. He looked away, as if the weight of his past had finally become too much to carry. "You had just gone into hiding," he murmured. "After Lichtenstein. The Saudis were closing in." A flicker of shame crossed his face. "They were starting to figure out the con, and I couldn't throw up enough smoke."

Sarah frowned. "But they never found me. No one besides us knew I ran the Lichtenstein job."

Jack exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "I went to the feds. To get you out."

Her stomach dropped. "You were going to cut a deal."

He nodded, his eyes steady on hers. "They wanted intel on Shaw. Sent someone to negotiate." A pause. "Her name was Mary Bartowski."

The blood drained from Sarah's face. A chill crawled down her spine. Chuck's parents were dead because of her. She hadn't pulled the trigger, but it was still her fault. The guilt coiled tight around her ribs, squeezing the air from her lungs.

"So was it Shaw?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. Mary wanted to handle the Saudis first, then deal with the Shaws." His voice turned grim. "Two days later, Daniel called a meeting with the Larkins and me. I didn't know about Stephen, but Shaw did. He leveraged the fact that the Bartowskis were both feds to force the deal that created the Syndicate." He hesitated. "The next morning, their bodies were found outside their shop."

Sarah swallowed past the knot in her throat. "And when Chuck showed up just after?"

Jack dragged a hand through his perfectly combed hair, as if trying to smooth away the years of regret. "I thought he was there to finalize my plea deal. When he didn't, I figured Mary never recorded it. Then he took over the shop. I assumed he was continuing their cover."

Sarah stared at him, her mind racing. "A plea deal…" Her voice trembled. "Were you going to go back to prison? For me?"

Jack's shoulders sagged. He let out a weary sigh. "After I got out, all I wanted was for you to be safe, darling. This life… it only ends two ways. Prison or death."

The words struck her harder than she expected. Her body moved before she could think. She stepped around the desk and dropped to her knees beside him. Jack lifted his head, and for the first time in years, she saw the tears in his eyes.

"I just wanted you to have a chance at a normal life," he whispered.

The dam inside her broke. Silent tears spilled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him. For the first time since he'd left prison, she felt like a daughter again.

"We'll figure this out, Dad." Her voice was thick with emotion. "Somehow."

o-o-o-o-o

A deep rumble signaled Chuck's arrival, his car rolling to a stop outside the warehouse. Sarah pushed off the rusty wall, her shadow pooled beneath her feet, heart twisting with a mix of anticipation and dread. The ocean breeze carried warmth now, laced with salt, diesel, and the promise of adventure.

He had come after a single text. No call, no hesitation. Just yesterday, Jack had accused him of being an undercover fed, and he came back, trusting her. How had he survived this world so long with that kind of trust? And yet, she was relieved - ecstatic, even - that he had.

Chuck climbed out, and for a brief moment, their eyes met across the car's roof. His grin was easy, effortless. Warmth spread through her chest, battling the weight of her guilt. Under his gaze, she felt lighter, as if she could be anything, do anything.

Ridiculous. And yet, she couldn't stop smiling.

As she reached earshot, he called out, "Afternoon, Sarah!" He nodded toward the warehouse. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, Chuck. We're all good." She made sure to stress we. "Now we can focus on the job."

He rounded the car and, with a playful flourish, opened her door. She had been helped into cars a hundred times before, but when she took Chuck's hand, it felt different. Personal. Intimate.

A flicker of heat shot up her arm, setting her pulse racing. Their eyes met again, something unspoken crackling between them before he let go and shut the door.

Sarah exhaled, forcing herself to focus. She needed to tell him what she had learned. That his parents had died because of her. But the way he smiled at her…

Once he knew the truth, those smiles might stop. And she didn't know what to do about it.