373The Agent Versus the Bartender
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: A chance encounter and disillusionment force CIA Agent Sarah Walker to make a decision that may alter the course of her life, but first she has to decide if she's earned it. AU Charah
A/N: Well, this is the end, my friends. Thanks for reading this. I appreciate it. I appreciate your reviews and kindness. Please please do me a favor and check out the other stories I've written, follow along with those. And check out The Detective and the Tech Guy, which I wrote under another penname: thecharleses. This is a thing I'm trying to do now. Trying to promote my work because I seriously do work so so so hard on it and I fret over it and get stuck in my head about it... and I need to acknowledge the hard work I do and feel some amount of personal achievement in it. So there that is. Hope you all enjoy the chapter and enjoyed the story a a whole!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK or its characters. I'm making $0.00 dollars.
Meditation.
He was going to pick up meditation.
That was how he would survive the post-Christmas Buy More sales that would last a whole week after the New Year holiday.
He would master meditation. He would get so good at it that he'd be able to meditate and help customers at the same time. Fix a laptop and meditate. Replace the broken screen of an iPhone and meditate.
Jeff and Lester could do backflips off of the Nerd Herd desk and he'd be impervious to it because he'd be in a deep state of eternal peace of mind. Nothing would penetrate it.
All would be well.
"Hey! C'mon, Chuck, I'm talkin' to you! Get it together, Mr. Supervis—Oh. Oh, okay." Lester cleared his throat, backing away nervously as Chuck finally looked up at him and stood from his seat behind the desk, oh so slowly moving towards him, his jaw clenched. "Well, on second thought. On second thought, I think I can probably—I'll just figure it out myself. I'll ask Jeff." Even as he backed away, Lester Patel reached up to brush Chuck's shoulder off for him. "Just...speck of dust there. Got it, though."
"Did you just tell me to get it together?" Chuck asked through a clenched jaw. "I must've been hearing things 'cause I could've sworn you said that to me." He continued to take slow, measured, threatening steps towards Lester until the shorter man backed into a cardboard stand-up and nearly tripped over it.
"Oh, 'scuse me! I—Oh." Lester realized belatedly that it wasn't a real person he'd knocked into. "No, I—You must've heard me say… we're getting together. Yeah. That's-That's what I said. Later. Jeff's van. We-We found a TV in the dumpster outside the Large Mart and we got it to work. S'long as you don't mind there's a crack in the corner of the screen. What?" He looked over his shoulder. "I hear a customer! A customer needs my help! Lemme know if you're up for...Jeff's van and a broken TV later, huh? Okay, ol' pal! Good talk!"
Lester patted him on the shoulder and sprinted away as if his life depended on it.
And honestly, with the mood Chuck was in, his life might actually depend on it.
"Excuse me, sir? I was hoping you could help me."
Chuck blinked, recognizing the voice immediately, and he spun on his heel, the grin already plastered on his face, his mood leagues better than it had been not five seconds earlier.
Sarah stood in the Bluray aisle, nibbling on her lip thoughtfully, holding two boxsets, one in each hand.
"I can absolutely help you, miss." He stepped in closer, practically feasting on the mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes as she watched him.
"Oh, good. Thank you. It's really life and death."
"Well, that sounds serious."
"Oh it is."
He stopped in front of her, trying to play the part, stifling the glee he felt at her being here.
"Well… see, I don't know which of these seasons are better and I can only get one of the sets today. All of those Christmas presents I had to buy for the kids in the orphanage, you know."
He swallowed a choking sound and she sent him an amused look under the apparent Good Samaritan she was playing. "Wooow," he drawled. "You're a saint."
She bit the inside of her cheek, nearly breaking character. But she was way too good at this to actually break. Instead her eyes glinted in that way of hers. "Oh no. Please. It was the least I could do. After knitting sweaters for the squirrels in the yard to keep them warm, I was just so bored and needed something else to keep me busy, that's all."
Chuck ducked his head and pinched his nose shut, trying to smother the laugh that threatened. She really was such a massive dork and he absolutely loved it.
"So here's my quandary. I have this one, which is seasons one and two." She held up the boxset in her left hand. "And I have this one, which is seasons three, four, and five?" She lifted the other.
She cocked her hip and tilted her head, presenting both Twilight Zone boxsets for him to see, one on each side of her face. "I really can't decide."
Chuck allowed himself a moment to really look at her.
She was wearing a black leather jacket and black pants with those same heeled boots she wore to their first date. Her blond hair spilled over her shoulders in waves. And she was now holding Twilight Zone Blueray boxsets up with the intention of buying one of them. He'd never been so unapologetically attracted to another person ever in his entire twenty-six-plus years of existence.
He wanted to drop the game they were playing with each other and close the distance between them to wrap her up in his arms and hug her tightly. Really, he just wanted to feel her arms around him again. He'd discovered on Christmas, and on the day after Christmas, that Sarah Walker was really good at gathering him up in her embrace and holding onto him in a way that made everything else disappear.
And God, he could really use that today.
This had been the absolute worst New Year's Eve he could ever remember at the Buy More. And that was saying something, considering two New Year's Eves ago, a a man had been bitten by some other guy's pet snake they hadn't even seen him come in with because he'd smuggled it under his shirt. Paramedics had gotten involved and poison control, only for them to discover once the Humane Society sent someone to tell them it was just your average garden variety snake and not poisonous at all.
And somehow this year was still so much worse than that shitshow had been.
The customers were absolutely rabid all day, opening packages to "look at it" like there weren't pictures of every part of the product all over the box, yelling at green shirts and Nerd Herders alike, trying to freaking steal, and then the police officers who'd come to bust the guy who'd tried to steal had treated Chuck like shit as if they were also having the worst day ever. There was the kid whose mom wasn't paying attention to him while she flirted with another customer, and the resulting mess when he knocked over a CD tower by literally kicking it like a little jerk, probably to get his mom's attention because that whole situation seemsd dysfunctional to the nth degree. And somehow Chuck had gotten the chewing out from the woman because little Benny could've gotten hurt.
On top of the hellish customers, Chuck's coworkers were even less on task than usual, and for a day that was bound to be one of their busiest days of the entire year, that was verging on catastrophic. There were customers being ignored, potential sales that could be made if everyone was doing their damn jobs. And instead there'd been some hot sauce competition between the green shirts and Nerd Herd in the home theater room. He'd had to bust it up, and he'd snatched a Del Taco packet too violently from Skip's hand and it had busted, squirting vibrant red Del Scorcho on his pristine white uniform shirt.
He'd had to take his fifteen minute early to try to scrub it off in the bathroom, and the stupid pinkish, wet spot was still there. He'd have to borrow Ellie's Oxy later or something to get it out, damn it.
Chuck Bartowski could use a massive hug. And an even more massive drink. But mostly the hug. Specifically from this extraordinary human standing in front of him, still holding the Twilight Zone boxsets.
"Definitely do three, four, and five," he answered instead of dropping the role-play and hugging her like she was a literal life line.
"Hmmm. I'm not sure I can just take your word for it. One and two are the first two seasons of the series and that feels like a big deal."
"That's fair. Very fair. I still say go with three, four, and five." He tapped it with his finger.
"Because there are better episodes in those seasons?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Eh," he shrugged, reaching up to scratch the back of his head, "the really great episodes are pretty well spaced out through all five seasons, but this has three seasons as opposed to two. And if you can only buy one today, buy the one with more episodes. The order you watch the episodes in doesn't matter." He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets.
She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted.
"Mr. Bartowski!"
He grit his teeth, narrowing his eyes. Sarah sent a curious look behind him, leaning to the side a little. Doing his best to control his features, he let out a slow breath.
God damn it.
God damn it, he'd forgotten his shift overlapped a bit with the asshole's. God. Damn it. Would anyone judge him if he cried right now? If he just sat down right where he stood, flopped to the side and gave up for the day? People could just step over him while he curled into a ball and just cried in frustration for the next twenty-four hours.
"Yes, Harry?" he asked, turning his head just slightly.
"I'll take this customer. You are not a salesman. You're Nerd Herd. Just. Nerd. Herd."
Harry stepped up next to them and sent Sarah an unmistakable look. "I'm sorry this man is disturbing you, ma'am. We try to keep the nerds locked up in the cage in back with the computers they're supposed to be fixing. Like our very own little pocket-protector wearing Oompa Loompas. We try to keep the dweebs busy with tech repairs to keep them away from our...very lovely customers."
The sniveling piece of shit.
Sarah simply raised both eyebrows, apparently unsure of how to take the other man. Chuck wondered if Sarah was trying to decide whether or not Harry was joking, or if it was just that his existence was the joke.
A stain more like.
An awful stain.
"I've got this, Harry, thank you," he replied as calmly as he was able, a closed-mouth smile on his face, daggers of hate coming out of his eyes he was sure.
"There are piles of laptops that need your attention, Mr. Bartowski," the green shirt snipped. "You're just fine with machines. Leave the human interaction to me, hm? Now what can I help you with, ma'am?" He turned back to Sarah, smoothing his fingers down his shirt.
"Why don't you go shut your head in a Beastmaster and turn it on, 'kay? Thanks," Chuck cut in, tired of looking at the asshole. He was close to snapping…snapping this guy in half. Harry Tang would be the thing that would finally do it today. After everything, Harry Tang would be would pushed him over the edge.
They'd need ten people to pin him down.
Harry gawked. And for that matter, Sarah gave him a wide-eyed look as well.
"I could write you up for that, Bartowski," Harry growled, leaning in closer, the smell of Axe body spray wafting into Chuck's nostrils. That alone nearly pushed him over the edge.
"You and whose mom? The only person who can write me up is Big Mike and he's sound asleep in his office with half a sub still in his hand." That was true. It was where he'd found him when he'd walked in to ask him when he needed the Nerd Herd midday repairs numbers.
And Chuck imagined he had yet to budge from that spot in the hour or so since he'd entered Big Mike's office.
"I am acting manager and have the authority when Big Mike is indispos—"
"Like hell you do. He just told you that so you'd feel like a Special Boy and would leave him alone for two minutes so he could talk to his girlfriend on his office phone in private."
That was probably true, too.
Harry didn't seem to have a response to that, so he charged on past it. "Stick to your job, Bartowski."
"Stick to your own business, Tang."
"Big Mike will hear about this. Mark my words!" Harry sent him a vicious look and then stormed off.
"Oh gosh, I would mark them, Harry, if I actually cared," Chuck called after him.
"Screw you, Bartowski!"
"Okay, thaaaaaaanks," Chuck drawled loudly over his shoulder with utmost sarcasm.
When he turned back to Sarah, her eyes were still wide.
And then she smirked a little. "I have never seen you act that way towards anyone. Not even the Head Douche the night I met you."
"Because fuck Harry Tang, that's why. He's honestly...I'd call him Satan, but at least there's, like, some point to Satan's existence, you know? The whole being there to balance out good with evil thing? There's no point to Harry Tang's existence. At all." He shook his head, giving her a flat look.
"Is he always such a bitch?"
He didn't know if it was what she said, or the casual way she'd asked it, but he laughed hard. Very hard. He threw his head back, letting it out all out, almost a madness overtaking him after everything he'd been through during this shift from hell. And when he was finished, he lowered his head back down to beam at her. "Yes. He always is. And I seriously cannot get enough of you, Sarah Walker."
She gave him a look that made what he said feel very appreciated, but then she slipped a mask over that. "More important question: is he single?"
"Ugh! Don't even joke about that!" He made a face, making her giggle.
She stepped in closer and got up on her tiptoes for a kiss, the role-playing apparently over, but he pulled back a bit. "Ah ah! Wait, I'm, uh...I mean, I'm on the clock…so…" She just gave him a look and he huffed, shaking his head with an eye roll. "What the fuck am I doing? Who cares?" And he wrapped his arms around her torso and kissed her hard. It wasn't a long kiss by any means, but it sent a thrill of relief and joy through him anyway. And when he broke the kiss, he dove in to cling to her tightly, hugging her as if it was the last thing he'd ever do in his entire life.
Sarah didn't hug him back, the Bluray boxsets still clutched in her hands, held up on either side of her. "Wow. Hi," she said softly, her voice a bit breathless. Had it been the kiss? Or was he crushing her a little? He didn't care. He hugged her even tighter.
"Hi. God, I'm so glad you're here, Sarah. I think I might actually snap. Seriously. I don't know if I can take much more. I swear I'll spontaneously combust if one more customer asks me to find one of our products for them based on color of the product alone. If even one more person asks me if I can help them figure out what the grey thing is they saw in the store last week that was on sale…"
She shifted against him as though she was moving even closer to try to embrace him back in spite of the products in her hands, but before she could do that, yet another voice interrupted.
"Did you just kiss her? …HER? Jeff, did you just see what I saw? Am I stroking out?"
Chuck swore he was going to murder someone. He slowly turned to see Jeff and Lester staring, gaping at Chuck and Sarah standing there still pressed close together.
"More importantly," Jeff chimed in, "SHE kissed YOU?"
Chuck narrowed his eyes, then saw Lester was holding something. "Lester, is that a camcorder?"
"Uh. Maybe."
"Are you—Okay, nope. Gimme that." He let go of Sarah and stomped over to Lester. He snatched the camcorder before Lester could scamper away with it.
"Wha—Hey, no! No, I'm—Don't you want this for your grandkids sometime in the future? It's proof that you once kissed an extremely hot girl. Posterity! You will earn their respect!" Lester argued, trying to grab the camcorder back.
"You're a sick person, Lester. Sick." Chuck snapped the camcorder shut and shoved both Lester and Jeff away. "Get out of here! Maybe do your jobs? For once?"
They slumped away and he walked back with the camcorder, a look on his face that made Sarah laugh. "Do you see this? This is what I deal with day in and day out in this hellscape that is the Burbank Buy More. And they're like this on a day that isn't swarming with people because of a post-Christmas storewide sale, it just feels so much more grating on a busy freaking day like today."
"Yeah, there are a lot of people in here," she said, her hand landing on his arm. "Listen, I don't want to get you in trouble—"
"No, please. Please, I don't care about that. I'm the only reason this building hasn't literally exploded. I've got Big Mike in my pocket. And he's asleep in his office." He gave her a look that read c'est la vie.
"Okay. Well, um…" She bit her lip, looking at him with a tentative gaze, shifting her weight. He felt like maybe something was up, but before he could ask, she continued. "I was wondering when your shift is over today."
"Oh. Um…" He checked his watch. "Ugh, in an hour and a half." She sighed and looked off to the side thoughtfully. "Why? What's up?"
"Nothing. No, I'm just… Well, I'd like to talk to you…about something. That's all."
About thirteen worst case scenarios flashed through his mind and it must have shown in his face because she immediately tangled her fists in his shirt flirtatiously and pulled his gaze to hers.
"Hey, it's not that serious. Chill."
She wasn't breaking up with him, was she? Was he in some kind of trouble for something? Did he do something? "We're still...gonna be dating after this thing you have to talk to me about, right?" he couldn't help asking.
Sarah furrowed her brow and shook her head, grabbing his tie in one hand and giving it a tug. "I told you to chill. I'm not breaking up with you."
Relief spilled through him. "Oh, good. Good, okay. Sorry. I'm just… That reaction Jeff and Lester had to seeing me with you? As annoying as they are, it's a pretty accurate (but a lot creepier) version of what happens in my head sometimes when I'm with you."
"Don't," she said steadily, letting his tie fall back to his chest and smoothing her hand down it. "You're an incredible man, Chuck Bartowski. Run that through your head for a change."
"I'll try," he said, feeling his insides warm up. "And I'm sorry I can't just say peace out to this bullshit shift and go with you right now. As much as I talk about how much I hate this place, I take my job here seriously. And I can't just skip out on the rest of my shift. As much as I'd like to run outta here and never look back. It has been a DAY, Sarah. Worst one I can remember, honestly."
She gave him a sympathetic pout and rose onto her tiptoes to peck him on the lips. "I admire you for that. You should know. And it's okay, I can wait for you."
"In here?" He shook his head vehemently. "Sarah, you'll lose your mind. It'll send you over the edge. I'm serious. Don't do this to yourself. I'm not worth it."
Laughing, she shook her head. "So melodramatic. I'm starting to think you're worth just about anything, first of all…" He wasn't expecting that, and he found himself brimming with light as he watched her. She blushed a little and he brimmed even brighter. "But there's also a whole shopping center out there. Coffee places and frozen yogurt. I saw a bookstore, I think. There's plenty for me to do. I'll just come back at four-thirty."
There was something underneath the air of nonchalance she was projecting, something indiscernible. He wasn't sure what it was but it made him wonder just what was in store for him at four-thirty.
She gave him another kiss, teased him with a valiant, "Stay strong", and swept out of the store, leaving him gaping after her, feeling two parts the luckiest man alive and one part concerned about what was bothering her.
}o{
Chuck slammed his locker shut and hurried out of the break room still putting his Buy More jacket on over his Nerd Herd uniform. He spotted Sarah at the register a few moments later as he wandered about the store looking for her.
Sidling up next to her, he peeked down at the counter as Fernando scanned the Twilight Zone boxsets. "You're getting both? You don't have to do that. I can just give you the password to my cable account and you can watch it all for free."
"No, I wanted to own them. This way I can watch whatever I want when I want." She leaned in towards Fernando who blushed vibrantly. "Make sure you give this sale to Chuck. He was very helpful." She turned to wink at Chuck flirtatiously.
As Fernando nodded and fixed his glasses, Chuck snorted. She was really playing this up, wasn't she? Good. As long as it wasn't him doing it, she could do whatever the hell she wanted. Let them gawk.
He reached over and grabbed the Blurays for her, handing her the receipt he took from Fernando's grasp. "Thanks, Fernando!"
Sarah slipped her hand into his as they walked out of the store, smiling up at him. "How was the rest of your shift?"
"Not as bad as before you showed up. I think your appearance somehow blessed the rest of my shift."
She giggled. "If only I'd appeared earlier."
"That's what I'm sayin'," he teased. "Maybe you can just come to my work every time I have a shift? That'd be super great."
She gave him a look that was a clear no.
"Hey, um…" She turned to him as they got outside, stopping and pulling him out of the way of shoppers. "My car's just right there. Do you mind if we both take my car now? I'll drive you back here to get yours later. If that's okay." She nibbled on her lip.
"Nah, not at all. That's fine."
Smiling, she took his hand again and they strolled to her Porsche. It was a development he was fine with, this hand holding thing. They got in, and they were off. He didn't know where they were going. But he didn't much care, either. His shitty day had done a full one-eighty when she'd shown up.
And even though he was nervous about this "talk" of theirs, he felt really good. This felt really good. Being with a woman who was even a third as great as she was would've felt really good, he thought, so being with her was… Well, he thought his joy might be incalculable.
They were silent as she pulled onto the freeway, and silent still ten minutes later as she maneuvered through traffic in a way that made him feel a little bit like he was on a rollercoaster.
"So this is...how you drive then, huh?" he finally asked, his voice coming out in a squeak.
"Yeah." She glanced at him with a furrowed brow, then put her eyes back on the road again thankfully. "Somethin' wrong with it?"
"Uuuuuuhhhh no. Nope."
The dubious look she sent him told him she saw right through him. Woops.
He thought a handful of times that he might as well ask her what was up, not knowing where they were going or how long it would take to get there. But he thought the fact that she hadn't brought it up yet meant she was waiting to talk about it. Waiting for something… He didn't know what. They were alone here, after all. Then again, with the way she drove, maybe multitasking would be a bad idea.
As they got off of the freeway near Malibu a half hour or so later, the build-up of his curiosity got the better of him, and he just had to speak up.
"So what is this? What do you need to talk with me about, Sarah? Did something happen? Am I, um, in trouble or something? Or is it…?" He swallowed, not knowing how to finish the question.
"It isn't that simple. It's nothing you did, though. It's something with me. And it's kind of...big. And when I tell you, I don't really want to chance you jumping out of the moving car," she muttered the last part under her breath but he still heard it.
"Wait, what?"
"Nothing. We'll talk in a few minutes. I just have to...figure out what to say, that's all."
"Oh." He swallowed again. "Well...Well, listen. Whatever it is, I hope you know I won't judge or anything. I'm a good listener. And I'm here. I'm here for you."
"I know, Chuck." She reached over and put her hand on his thigh, squeezing. "Thank you."
He saw some doubt in her face. It was unmistakable. And she slid her mask over it, keeping her eyes on the road. But he knew he'd seen it right. Did she doubt him? Or herself? What exactly was this?
They finally pulled into a small, empty parking lot. Strange, he thought, that a public beach in Malibu would be empty on New Year's Eve. Maybe she knew this beach and she knew it'd be empty and that was why she'd picked it.
And then he thought of that movie So I Married An Axe Murderer and he decided to maybe calm it down with the overactive imagination.
"The beach, huh?"
"Yeah, the beach." She smiled a little, getting out of the car. He followed suit and watched her over the roof of the car. "When I first got to LA, I had a day off and just jumped in my car, driving around greater Los Angeles, I mean…all over the place. I just wanted some space, some peace, for thinking and whatever." She led him down towards the sand, then grabbed his hand and held on tight so she didn't fall over while she tugged her boots off. "I found this beach and it didn't have many people on it. I've come back a handful of times over the last month or so. It's peaceful, ya know?" He nodded but she couldn't see it and she kept talking. It was almost as if her feet had touched the sand and the walls had come down, her words coming out unbridled, the thoughts she had in her head unleashed. "It's comforting, the ocean. I've sort of figured out that it's almost like an old friend you can always rely on. Because no matter who you are, what you are, what you've done, the waves still come up to greet you. There's no judgment, it's just here all the time. It's nice, I guess."
"It's kind of perfect," he said quietly, watching her with every bit of warmth he was capable of as she tucked her boots under her arm. He decided untying his sneakers and tugging them and his socks off was too much work, so he just walked through the sand wearing them, knowing it'd be uncomfortable later and not caring much.
He just wanted to know what all of this was about. She seemed tense, and introspective. He wasn't used to seeing her like this.
They finally plopped down in the sand, sitting shoulder to shoulder, and he allowed a peaceful silence to wash over them, focusing on the sound of the waves, the breeze, birds calling out as the sun lowered towards the horizon in front of them.
Finally, he decided he needed to to maybe prompt her, get this going.
"Sarah, are you okay?" he asked, turning to watch her, the way the breeze picked up the strands of hair around her face and played with them, the sun shining on her indescribably beautiful features.
She sighed and turned to smile at him. "Yeah. Chuck, I think I finally...might be okay. Or at least, I will be. Or maybe I'm okay now and I'll be even better later. When I figure this all out and can settle into a real life."
"A real life?" he asked, curious as to what that meant. Was she not living a real life now? Was this a fake life?
Sarah took a deep breath, shutting her eyes. She kept them shut as she reached out and blindly felt for his hand. He made it easier for her by grabbing her hand out of the air and hanging on tight. "I'm going to tell you a whole lot right now and I don't know what it's going to mean for…us. For you. For me. Both of us together, maybe."
He felt nerves prickle at the back of his neck, making his chest ache a little. "Sarah, tell me. It's okay."
Swallowing, she nodded and opened her eyes. "First, I need you to understand that this is no small thing. I'm not sure I'm even allowed to tell you. Not that I don't…trust you. I do. They probably don't, though. And I've struggled over it because...you're important to me. Your safety is important to me, Chuck."
He smiled warmly, but then what she said registered and he paused. "Wait...my safety?"
Raising an eyebrow, she nodded slowly. What was going on here?
"Chuck, remember how I told you that I am in government work? Traveling around all the time, unable to settle down or make friends, or-or date?"
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, I remember."
"It's a bit more complicated than that. Er, more intense…I should say."
He tried really hard not to react to that, focusing on just listening to her, being as receptive and open as possible.
"Chuck, I'm a spy. I'm an agent in CIA."
He heard it.
Chuck Bartowski definitely just heard his girlfriend of only a few days say she was a spy in the CIA. Loud and clear.
But his brain was having a hard time absorbing it. So he just sat there, his knees pulled up to his chest, staring at her blankly. "You're... I'm sorry. What?"
She took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the face. "I'm a spy. A CIA agent. At least, technically I still am, but I've been sort of benched for right now. Overseeing analysts at the LA branch of the agency. It's why I'm here in LA, instead of on another mission somewhere on the other side of the world."
"Mi-Mission?" He blinked. Was this for real? "Are you—Are you, uh, pulling my leg?"
"No," she said, her face set in sincerity. "I work for the CIA, Chuck. I've been in the agency for almost a decade. They recruited me out of high school and I...never looked back." She huffed, a slight grimace on her face. "That's not exactly true, is it? I did look back. A lot. But I always just figured it was too late. I'd made my bed and I had no choice but to lie in it."
Chuck wasn't even sure how to react. He was in shock. He was confused. He was totally and utterly unprepared to deal with this news. And he wasn't fully absorbing it, even. "I'm… You were recruited by the CIA while you were still in-in high school? What's—I mean, that's straight out of a movie or something. How'd you get into the CIA when you were in high school?"
"It's...a long story."
"You just told me you're CIA, Sarah." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
"Um. Right. Yeah." She cleared her throat. "I guess I'll just…give it to you straight. I've gone this far already. My dad got into some trouble with the...with the law. He was arrested. And before I could do anything to try to help him, the CIA found me and they... I had special talents that they thought would transition well into being a CIA agent, I guess you could say." He raised his eyebrows at her but she didn't see it, staring out at the sea. "Well, they gave me two choices. I could join the CIA and they'd make sure my dad was safe, or I could not join the CIA and he'd go to prison and maybe be killed there."
Chuck just stared. Was she really not just fooling him for fun? Did she have some sort of sick sense of humor? That would make more sense than what she was telling him being the truth.
"I know. It sounds farcical. But I'm not lying to you, Chuck. This isn't—It isn't something I've told anyone before and I'm most likely not supposed to be telling you, either…and-and I'm probably not even doing a good job of explaining it for that matter. But I have to tell you. I can't be with you and not tell you who I am. What I am. I just can't do it."
She let out a shaky breath and shook her head, looking out at the water.
"This is real, what we have. And it's so good. And I want it. I want you. But I can't have you, I refuse to allow myself to have you, if I'm keeping something this big from you. It isn't fair or right." She sighed. "I don't want to lie to you. More than I already have."
Chuck flicked his tongue out to wet his lips and let out a flabbergasted huff, gaping down at the sand in front of them. "This isn't...what I was expecting…"
"I know. You thought I was breaking up with you. I'm not sure if this is worse or better…" She winced and rubbed her hands up and down her legs that she'd crossed in front of her.
He turned to look at her, watching the dread in her face, and as much as he was still trying to figure out what in the hell this was, as confused as he still was, as in shock as he was, he decided he didn't want that dread to be on her face, or in her heart. He could at least do something about that.
Chuck reached over and took her hand, holding onto it tightly, meaningfully. She looked down at their hands wrapped together, then up at him with a thread of hope in her blue eyes.
"I'm one hundred percent good saying that this—as nuts as it is and as much as I'm still sort of not sure how to react to or deal with it—this is so much better than if you brought me here to break up with me, Sarah."
In spite of everything, that made her smile at him, a big smile, and she squeezed his hand back.
And he realized in that moment that he was in love with her.
He was in love with a spy.
Holy shit.
"So you're...okay with this?"
"I'm still trying to figure it out," he admitted, shaking his head. "I mean, holy shit, Sarah. A spy? Like Emma Peel? Like Charlie's Angels? Like… La Femme Nikita? Like…"
"Okay, you don't have to keep going." She put a cool, gentle hand on his jaw and forced him to look at her, sliding it up to cup his cheek. "What I do is nothing like what they put in movies or TV shows. It's real and sometimes it...can be terrible, violent. I won't lie to you." She swallowed hard, but kept her gaze on his. He could see the haunted look in her face, and he knew immediately that there were things in her past, things she wouldn't tell him. At least not today. Maybe some day she would. "And sometimes it's just...a lot of paperwork."
"I'm just…" He shook his head and let out a long breath. "This was maybe the last thing I expected you to say to me, Sarah. Seriously. I was not expecting my girlfriend to take me out to this empty beach and tell me that she's a spy with the CIA. That's...that's some Hollywood shit, Sarah. It really is."
"I know. And I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you about this before, but this is a dangerous existence. It's extremely…volatile. And… Well, I've been keeping secrets and lying and hiding in the shadows for my whole life, really. There are a lot of people out there who would love to find me and kill me because of the things I was ordered to do by my superiors."
What she'd said earlier came back to him as he squeezed her hand supportively, all of this sending serious chills through him. "You said they gave you a choice when they found you, after your dad—after he ended up in prison." She nodded quietly. "Isn't that technically blackmail? The CIA blackmailed you to make you become a spy?"
She shrugged. "I don't really see it that way. They made sure my dad was protected in prison from dudes who would've loved to see the guy that conned 'em dead, and then they got him out early. And I suppose I just got so deep into it that...even though my debt was finally paid off I guess…" She sighed. "The only way for me to say this is that I've done things I'm not proud of, Chuck. If I told you about some of it, you'd really hate me. I swear you would. You'd run in the opposite direction screaming." She let out a mirthless laugh and pulled her hand from his, pushing her fingers through her hair and letting out a frustrated groan. He could see her eyes getting wetter, and she blinked rapidly to stave it off.
He frowned, then set a hand on her leg right above her knee. "I can't believe you're a spy. I can't believe my girlfriend is a spy. This is...seriously...just...bonkers. I mean, I'm...I don't even know what." He took a deep breath. "But you need to know there isn't anything I can think of that you might've done, whatever it is, however…violent… that would make me not wanna be with you."
She shut her eyes tightly and winced. "Even if I'd killed people…?" There was a long pause and he felt a little cold. "A lot of people. Enough people."
He shivered. That was a bleak and honestly terrifying thought. And then again, at the same time, he was eerily calm about it. He didn't know why when he only knew this woman for a few weeks he had this sense that he knew her. He knew what was inside of her. He'd seen it enough by now. Even that first night when she'd been buzzed at his bar. And that thought led him to remember the way she'd threatened the Head Douche and his friends. That threat had been real. She really could've most likely kicked all of their asses. She was a spy. A fucking spy!
"Even then," he said, looking at her seriously, determination in his face. "This is crazy, Sarah. It's nuts. I still don't even know what to say. You're a spy! That's just… What the fuck?" He shook himself a little. "But that doesn't make you any less the person I've gotten to know. I mean, you—" He halted as something occurred to him. "Wait. You're a spy. You're with the CIA." She raised her eyebrows and ducked her chin, waiting to see what he was putting together in his head. "Am I a mark? Did you come into my bar for me? Am I going to prison? Are they gonna drop me in some underground bunker because I'm distantly related to a crime boss in...in Poland or something?"
"Whoa...whoa, Chuck. Okay...you're spiralling." He felt like something was crushing his chest. He was having a hard time breathing. Sarah's face was right there in front of him, her cool hands cupping his cheeks. "Take some deep breaths. You're okay. I'm not in Los Angeles for you, Chuck. That isn't why I came here. It's like I said. I was benched and sent here to oversee the analysts at our LA branch. I walked into that bar that night because I needed to get drunk, just like I told you. I wasn't lying about that, Chuck. I...I didn't lie about anything I said to you that night. Or really...any of the nights after. I'm not here for you," she emphasized. "But I do plan...to stay here. And that might be in big part for you."
Chuck could breathe again. It had all hit him at once. And she was right, he'd spiraled. "Oh my God," he panted. "My girlfriend is a spy." He blinked and then looked up at her. She was still cupping his face, looking a little concerned, her blue eyes wide. "My girlfriend...is a SPY!"
"Shh!"
"Sorry!" he hissed, clamping a hand over his mouth. At least she looked a little amused. He crawled up onto his knees in front of her then, pulling her up onto her knees with him, and he clutched onto her shoulders, shaking his head in awe. "Oh my God, you're a CIA agent. Does that mean...are you...are you a secret agent?"
"Yes," she said, shrugging a bit.
"So, like….super top secret shit."
"Sometimes. There are things I've done that other agencies in our ally countries weren't supposed to know we were involved in. Sure, they probably suspect or even know, but I've always been really good about covering my tracks."
He bit his lip and let out a strangled sound. "Oh my God, I know this is serious. I'm taking it really seriously, I promise, but oh my God, that's so hot. You are so hot. I thought you were hot before but this is an extra layer of dangerous hot and I should probably be a little intimidated, but I'm not, I'm just extra into you. This is so insane."
Sarah's eyes widened as he rambled, and then she sniffed in amusement and shook her head. "I thought you'd be afraid of me. Or...angry. I meant it when I said I'm a mess, Chuck. I'm a big, big mess. Even now that you know about this, about what I do, who I am, you don't know the half of it. I'm not a normal girl and that's-that's why I've fumbled through all of this so far. With you. The friendship part and-and the more than friendship part. The romantic part. I don't...get to make human connections in this job. It isn't...safe."
He nodded, then nibbled on his lip thoughtfully. "So...what was so different about me? You let yourself connect with me."
She sighed. "You're special, I guess. And there's also the fact that I-I've never felt this safe or comfortable with anyone else. I've never cared about anybody this much. And to top it all off, before I met you, when I first got sent here to sit at a desk, pulled from the field, I was considering a big life change. A big move. I got… I've gotten burned, Chuck. By the CIA, by the spy life. Seriously burned. And I've been disillusioned for a while, but never felt like I could shake it out here, living amongst real people, connecting with people, not always slinking around in the shadows, hiding behind lies and other names and faces. I still don't really know if I can handle an existence without my superiors telling me what my every move needs to be. I'm not really sure I can exist in the sunlight." Chuck frowned and stroked his fingers over her face. "I'm starting to think I might be able to, though. And you've been helping a lot with that. More than you could possibly know. I've wanted a normal life for a few years now, one away from the spy life. And I'm ready to take that step."
"Bad timing," he breathed, and she tilted her head in curiosity. "You told me this—us—was bad timing. That you met me in a time of transition. This is what you meant. That you're thinking about leaving the CIA."
She nodded. "But I'm not thinking about it anymore, Chuck. I'm doing it. I wanted to, especially after this last...Well." She shook her head, obviously deciding not to give him the details there. "But I didn't think I deserved it. You're making me believe that maybe I...still can. Maybe I can deserve a real life. I want to."
Chuck did away with pretense and leaned in, wrapping her up in his arms and hugging her close. She froze for a moment, obviously not expecting it, and then her arms were around him too. She hugged him so tightly he felt something pop in his shoulders, but he didn't dare say anything. He just let her cling as hard as she needed to, and for as long as she needed to.
"Quite a way to start your New Year, Sarah Walker."
She giggled at that, hugging him tighter, turning her face into his hair. But as her name came out of his mouth, he realized something. "Wait, wait. Your name. Sarah Walker…" She pulled back a little, their faces close. He licked his lips. "That's not your real name, is it?"
She pressed her lips together and shrugged. "Technically, it isn't the name that was on my birth certificate. But that hasn't been my name for a long, long time, Chuck. My real name is Sarah Walker. Now. It's official. It's on my dossier, on my badge, all the legal documents I sign. It's on my apartment's lease, I bought my car with it. And if I ever buy a house someday...I'll sign the name Sarah Walker on that, too."
"Wow. That's...that's so strange." He shook his head. "I can't imagine…"
"It's just how it always was for me. And it was okay because I didn't know it any other way." She shrugged. "I am Sarah Walker. I want...I want you to know me that way. Because it's… it's the name I feel. If that makes sense."
"It does. Absolutely."
She took a deep breath then, fondly playing with a curl at the top of his head. It made him shiver and he pulled her a little closer. "So...just so I'm clear on this. You know I'm a spy, that I'm going to leave the CIA when I can transition out of it properly and logically, however long that takes, that I've done bad things for the CIA…" She flicked her gaze away at that, and he wondered at the depth of that statement. Bad things. What exactly did she mean by that? "And you still...want me? Want to be with me?"
"Yes," he answered simply. "I'm not all the way calm about all of this by any means. I'm still in shock. And I'm...still trying to wrap my head around it. But I want you… Agent Walker? Can I call you that?"
"Uh...I guess." She didn't seem to know how to take that. "Not in public. Obviously."
"Oh, no, it's definitely only going to be reserved for private moments. Very, very private moments," he drawled, giving her a bit of a goofy smolder.
She laughed and smacked his shoulder. "Stop it. I seriously...I was terrified this would be it. That you'd be… I don't know, that this was going to end. That you didn't want to see me again."
"What was it you said at the Buy More earlier? Ah, yes." He leaned in close, making sure she was looking right into his eyes when he said it. "I'm starting to think you're worth just about anything."
She beamed at him and slipped her hand over the back of his neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. He felt that extra thrill in the kiss, the spike of adrenaline in his system, the desire pooling in his lower stomach.
They pulled back, their foreheads and noses still touching, and he bit his lip. "My girlfriend is a super spy."
"Super?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not one of your comic book heroes."
"No, you're better. Because you're flesh and blood and so viscerally real and human and yes, very messy. Just like I'm messy," he added before she could potentially take offense. "We're messes together, except that you're a mess who could definitely fight your way out of a room full of bad guys with a blindfold on and I definitely would just curl into a ball. The point is, I'm crazy about you. You, Sarah. Not the non-spy I thought you were. Not the spy you actually are. But you. Plain ol' you. The woman who closed up the bar with me, spent Christmas with me, bought coffee cake from the store, freaked out over the ending of a Twilight Zone episode, and gave me the best God damn night of my entire life."
She let out a rough breath and shut her eyes tightly. "God, I'm crazy about you too, Chuck. You make me feel like a person. For the first time in my life, I feel like a real life person." And when she opened her eyes again, he saw what he was feeling reflected in her crackling blue eyes. "Do you think my car is...private enough...for you to do that Agent Walker stuff?"
A fuse was blown somewhere in his brain and he nearly malfunctioned. But he kept control enough to let out a tiny gasp and let out a tight, "Definitely", before she grabbed his hand and yanked him up to his feet with her.
They sprinted back to her Porsche like their lives depended on it, and even with the lust pouring through his brain, he realized Sarah was the only one out of the two of them who actually knew what that really felt like.
A/N: Well, that's that. Thanks so much, again. I'm not going anywhere. My other stories are still continuing. But please review, send me PMs, get in contact with me. I welcome that. I'll catch y'all on the flip side.
-SC
