So you know when Sarah has the mission log and says she loves chuck and she doesn't know what to do about it? Day 564? (The gift set you recently reblogged) I know it would be about a year and half since they met, but any idea as to what episodes it would be around?
My typical guess is nearabouts Chuck Versus the Predator. Maybe after that one. During it...? Because it’s soon after those events that she takes Chuck and runs at the risk of her career and freedom when she learns he’s going to be locked away in a bunker. (Or worse, let’s be real.) It’s a huge massive sacrifice she is making and she does it without blinking. Because she loves him.
Even if it’s still super dangerous to admit that to Chuck because his safety is more important than anything, and telling Chuck might make him do something foolish...or it might distract her from protecting him if she allows herself to get lost in him.
So yeah. I always think it’s somewhere around Predator and Broken Heart. I mean, all of the digging she does to find Chuck’s dad in Broken Heart is pretty telling of how she feels. And I wish we got a hint as to what was in that letter she left on his pillow!!!
I really do love the way you tag Yvonne. Like if people didnt know you ran SWML they would because of the Yvonne Muscleski tag. It's uniquely you and I love it so.
Send εїз for five times my muse thought about your muse.
((Alrighty for vassariah, sweet bby =u=))
Not too long ago, when family was brought up in a conversation with him, and he spent some time reflecting over lost friends. Vassariah was among the people he had cared for and thought he might not see again, given the long gap of having seen or heard form him. Easy enough to say it was definitely an upsetting thought.
As of just now, Vass looks as good as ever.
When he was learning some dance steps again, from someone else, he recalled having trying to learn similar steps before with SWML while at prom. He still feels very awkward about the dancing, but he’s getting better.
When talking about how there seemed to be a trend in obtaining romantic interests, and he ended up listing several of the people that came to mind of who was included in the people who have either directly told him, or he’s been informed of that turned out to have or has had a crush on him.
When re-accounting all his “siblings” and wondering what the chances are that any of them were possibly even actually remotely blood related at all. As he knows for sure Superwho wasn’t at all, and the more current SWL (whom he’s not v fond of in the thought of “replacing” the old SWL). And then dictating how well he knew any of them, and how he saw each of them. Among which naming SWLI as the worst he had the pleasure of knowing, and Vass was among the sweetest and charming in having to know.
Happy birthday from Australia! Chuck gets shot on a mission and Sarah doesn't know how to cope.
First of all: HI, AUSTRALIA!
Okay now here’s your fic.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The sound of lead hitting the crate she was crouched behind made Sarah wince and cover her head, sinking even lower, just in case. She peeked over her shoulder and saw the dark figure of her husband slinking through the shadows.
He crouched behind a crate similar to her own, about twelve feet away, looking through the dim light that came in from the wooden grating on the wall behind them to meet her gaze.
Chuck held up his hand, flashing five fingers at her two times.
Ten.
There were ten men.
This was supposed to be a simple job, safe and quick. Carmichael Industries did their best work under pressure, but neither she nor Chuck had been expecting this much pressure. Ten against two weren’t the greatest odds.
She could see their exit. It loomed about forty feet away. But between the Bartowski’s and freedom was a lot of space. A lot of space with almost no cover. They’d surely be killed. Another bullet pinged off the lid of the crate and sent wood chips into her hair. “Shit!” she hissed.
“You okay?”
Sarah looked over to Chuck and nodded.
“What are we going to do?” he asked, pressing his back against the crate and letting out a heavy breath. It was only a matter of time before the ten men realized they were only two. And then they would close in on the spies in a matter of seconds. Whether they’d capture them or kill them, Sarah was afraid to guess.
She couldn’t think about that now.
“I’m coming over there,” Chuck said, without waiting for a response.
“No!” she whispered harshly. “Wait.” She reached down to grab the automatic she’d already taken from a man she’d knocked out a few minutes earlier. “Let me cover you first.”
They counted down together and Sarah shot up from behind the crate as much as she’d dared, easily taking out two enemy gunmen who were trying to sneak up on them. She felt Chuck’s warmth against her back and she dropped to the floor, just in time to miss being pelted with a flurry of bullets.
She looked up at Chuck and put a hand on his chest. “Okay?”
“Not swiss cheese yet, if that’s what you’re asking. But if we go from here to that door, I will be. And so will you. We need a way out that won’t get us killed. And soon,” he whispered.
Sarah felt a tinge of desperation. She’d been in worse situations in her life; some of them she knew still lie hidden in her brain somewhere, waiting to be recalled, as so many other memories had in the last nine months. But she hadn’t had Chuck then. She hadn’t been married and happy. She hadn’t had a future to look forward to.
Movie nights, bubble fights in their large two-person tub, phone calls with her sister-in-law, play dates with her sister, making dinner for the family with her mom…
If she died tonight, she had so much to lose. And she had to keep Chuck safe.
So many memories had come back to her since that day on the beach when Chuck asked her to trust him. Not just the big ones, like parties and celebrations, or life-impacting moments, but small subtle things. For instance, this feeling now, looking at Chuck and knowing she had to do everything she could to keep him alive…she’d felt it so many times before. And she knew…Even in the beginning, when she was first settling into her job as protector of the Intersect, protecting the Intersect was about so much more than the computer in Chuck Bartowski’s brain. It was about the man himself, his heart, and the multitudes of lives he touched. His sister, best friend, Captain Awesome, the Buy Morons, every person who brought him something broken and walked away with it fixed, the days he improved with a friendly smile, the problems he solved…She had to protect the man who was so important for so many reasons other than just the Intersect.
And she also knew it took almost no time at all for her to be one of those people who would be horribly affected by his loss.
“We’re getting out of here,” she said, determination in her voice and face. She watched as he smiled a little, nodding, her courage reflected in his face.
“Make a run for it, then?”
“Yeah. We have no choice.”
Sarah stared at her husband for a long moment, even though she didn’t have many of those to spare. And then she twisted her fingers in his vest and tugged him close, kissing him in the way she knew would best convey just how much she loved him, cherished him even.
And when she pulled back, gently running her hand down his face, his eyes showed the same sentiment. “I love you, too, Sarah Bartowski.”
She furrowed her brow at the hint of mischief in his face then.
“And contrary to what Casey thinks, I do listen to him.” He reached behind him and snatched a flash bomb from his belt. “He said to always have one of these handy. Well…”
“You’re amazing,” she said, breathless from adrenaline and a slew of other things. “Wanna do the honors? You can probably throw further than I can.”
“As you wish, Mrs.” He shifted it in his hand and leaned in to kiss Sarah quickly on the lips.
“Chuck.” He looked at her. “I do love you. I need you to hear it. And believe it.”
His smile was explosive. “Let’s get out of here. Midnight tacos sound amazing.”
God, they did sound amazing. She grinned back and nodded. “Three…two…”
There was a ruckus somewhere on the other side of the warehouse, a loud bang, the sound of rifles igniting. It was Casey…it had to be Casey. They’d taken too long and he was coming in with reinforcements. Verbanski reinforcements, no doubt. But then she saw her husband rear his arm back.
“Chuck wai—” But she was too late. Chuck threw the flash bang and took off in the tumult.
She raced after him, just barely catching herself before she shot in the direction of the enemy. Casey and Gertrude were probably in there, along with Verbanski’s men.
So she just kept running, keeping low, as small as possible. She heard and felt bullets whiz past her, knowing that any moment one of them might slam into her body. Would she die on impact? Would Chuck get out, only to turn around and see her wounded on the ground out in the open? Would he sprint back to help her and be killed himself?
Still, Sarah kept running until her body slammed into Chuck’s and they both went flying through the heavy, metal door that led out into the warm Menifee night air. The door slammed shut behind them as they landed, Chuck grunting in pain underneath her.
“Let’s go!” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. She’d landed hard and her lungs were aching for air. Clambering to her feet, she tugged Chuck up next to her and they ran through the small lot until they were immersed in the tall brush. She didn’t stop, holding onto Chuck’s hand as tight as she could as they ran. They were alive.
Casey and Verbanski could handle the rest. And Sarah just wanted to get out. She wanted to go home. The one place where she felt the safest…the one place she could remember feeling safe before her memories started filtering back.
As they neared the old iron bridge over the dried out riverbed, she was distantly aware of how slippery Chuck’s hand had gotten in hers. And yet, she still kept running. She ran until they sprinted onto the bridge and got to her car they’d parked there a few hours earlier.
She let go of Chuck’s hand and sprinted around to the driver’s side, opening her door, but the handle slipped in her fingers and she realized they were wet.
Looking down at her hand, she about had a heart attack. It was red with blood. Her blood? She grasped at her wrist, sliding her clean hand up her arm, all the way to her shoulder. Nothing.
Confused, she looked up. “Chuck, I—” He wasn’t there. “Chuck?”
Her heart did seize this time, and she pressed her hand to her chest, swallowing a sob. “Chuck!”
Where was he? It was his blood. Of course it was. She would’ve known if she’d been shot. Oh God. Oh God no. No no no.
Bursting around the car, she didn’t stop for even a second when she saw him sitting on the ground with his back pressed to the passenger door, his eyelids fluttering. He looked like a rag doll, just slumped there. And she bit back tears, falling to the ground next to him.
“Chuck? Chuck, hey.” She cupped his face, not caring that she was smearing his blood on his jaw. “Look at me. Where are you hurt?”
“My arm,” he saw through clenched teeth, his eyes filled with pain. “I didn’t feel it when we were escaping. Just a—just a sting, but now I—Oh God, I got shot. I got shot I got shot I got shot.”
Sarah was already tearing at his shirt, trying to see where he’d been hit. When she found it, she couldn’t stop the tears. They flooded out of her eyes relentlessly and she blinked furiously to be able to see.
“Okay, Chuck, we need to get out of here. Are you okay to get in the car?”
“It’s…the upholstery…blood…” He swallowed thickly.
“I don’t give a fuck about my car, Chuck. We need to get you to the hospital. Now get in the car!” She didn’t mean to snap at him, but she wasn’t wasting any time. It didn’t look like the bullet had come out the other side of his shoulder where he’d been hit. And while she knew she could remove it, she wasn’t a doctor.
They weren’t in a war zone or enemy territory. They could find a hospital and he’d be okay. He had to be okay. She’d had worse and she’d been okay. Right? Casey always got shot and he was always fine. And so would Chuck.
“Come on, baby. This is gonna hurt, but we have to get into the car.” She bit her lip as she draped his upper body against hers, holding him as tightly as possible with her arms around his back. It took some effort, but Chuck could still stand, and he did his best, in spite of the grunts of pain.
He slumped into his seat and took a few deep breaths, his skin pale and his forehead dripping with sweat.
Sarah slammed the door shut and practically leapt over the hood of the car, sliding part of the way before landing on the other side.
They were off moments later, Sarah steering with one hand and using the GPS in her phone with the other.
“Hey…Sarah…”
She glanced at him quickly, her eye dropping to his left shoulder as the wound bled onto the strips of his shirt she did her best to bind it with. “What is it, baby? You okay? Stay awake.”
“Yep. Yeah, I…It hurts.”
“I know,” she said quietly, so quietly there was a chance he didn’t hear it. It was just that her voice wasn’t working. A lump was caught in her throat, and her chest was aching, her heart beating fast, tears still running down her cheeks.
The nearest ER ended up being only ten minutes away, and she tore into the parking lot relentlessly.
The car screeched to a halt, narrowly missing slamming into the back of an ambulance, and yet again, she didn’t care. Instead she exploded out of the car and screamed, “HELP!” at the top of her lungs, staggering to Chuck’s side of the car and opening the door, catching him as he threatened to spill out onto the ground.
Nurses were at her side immediately. “He was shot. He was…we’re…His shoulder,” she gasped and they gathered him up onto a gurney that another member of staff wheeled out. She followed them as they pushed him into the building and down the multiple hallways, until finally, one of them turned and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Ma’am, we’ll take it from here. Yolanda?”
Somebody else took Sarah by the shoulder. “Come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
“No, no. That’s my husband. He’s—we’re married. I have to go there, if I’m not there…” It was like her legs weren’t even working anymore. And yet she still found the strength to let Yolanda guide her away from the doors that swung shut in front of her.
Chuck was in there. There was a bullet in his shoulder. She hadn’t protected him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What, honey?”
“My husband.”
“He’ll be okay. They’ll patch him up good.”
Sarah looked up to see the pretty middle-aged nurse hovering near her. She took in her kind eyes and immediately let out a soft sob.
—-
It felt like hours had passed since she saw Chuck disappear behind those doors. She sat in the chair now, staring at the white wall opposite her. Yolanda had taken her to clean her up as much as possible, then saw the young wife to a chair.
Nobody asked her any questions, though her badge probably had a lot to do with that. She was glad Beckman hadn’t taken her CIA badge. And part of her wondered if the redheaded general had done that on purpose. As a thank you. A get out of jail free card. Of sorts.
She wasn’t quite as shaky anymore now that enough time had passed. The wound hadn’t looked as bad as it could’ve been. At least he hadn’t been shot in the chest or stomach. His beautiful brain was still intact. And God, that sent a shiver down her spine. What a ghastly thought.
But not quite as ghastly as she realized what could have happened. Chuck could’ve been killed. He could be dead right now. And what would she have done? How did people live when they lost their other half?
Sarah had always been about survival. Making it to the next day. She’d always lived day by day before Chuck. She knew she could survive just about anything. It was in her genetic makeup, not to mention training and experience with the CIA.
But she wouldn’t be able to survive losing him.
Physically, sure. But she would lose hope in everything. The world would turn grey and lifeless. Everything would lose its meaning.
She knew how melodramatic she was being. Chuck was going to be okay. He’d be in pain from his wound for awhile. She’d have to take extra care of him, baby him, redress his wound for a few weeks until he was healed enough. But he would be just fine.
There was no sense in thinking about what might have happened, had the bullet missed his shoulder and instead struck him dead center in the middle of his chest. Granted, he was wearing a bullet proof vest. And God that had just been a simple precautionary measure. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone at the warehouse. They weren’t supposed to have been shot at.
Sarah dropped her head into her hands and took a deep breath. Why was it taking so long for someone to give her an update, for shit’s sake.
The door burst open down the hall, causing Sarah to jump. She looked up to see Casey stomping down the hallway, worry in his face. “The hell, Sarah? You take this long to call me? Didn’t even know where you were!” he said, flashing his NSA badge at the male nurse doing his best to stop him. The nurse stopped at the sight of the badge, shrugged, and walked back the other way.
“Sorry, I just…It’s Chuck.”
“Is he okay?”
“Shot in the shoulder, but he’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Hearing those words come out of her own mouth, she started to believe it a little, and her heart only stopped thudding painfully in her chest a little bit.
“Oh. Shit. What happened?” He plopped into the chair across from her, relief in his face. “And who the hell threw the flash?”
Sarah pushed her hands through her hair. “Chuck. Sorry. I tried to stop him. He didn’t hear you come in.”
“Don’t know how in the hell he missed us. I practically blew a hole in the wall.”
She shrugged.
Suddenly the doors swung open and Yolanda approached.
Sarah shot to her feet, immediately trying to read the woman’s dark features. They were soft, kind, and positive. Sincerely positive. Oh thank God. “Is he okay?” Sarah asked anyway, wringing her hands in front of her.
“Completely fine. He’s a little woozy. But he’s awake. They took the bullet out with no problem and stitched him up good.”
“Can I go in?” Relief was surging through her so hard that she thought she might just collapse to the floor.
“Mhm. The doctor wants to talk to you about his release and what you’ll have to do to keep the wound from becoming infected.”
Yolanda led her through the door. Sarah had all but forgotten Casey, but if she’d looked at him, she would’ve seen him sit back down and grab one of the nearby magazines calmly.
As Sarah walked into the room where they’d stuck her husband, she saw that he was propped up a little, shirtless, with a bandage around his shoulder and chest. They’d cleaned the blood off of his face, arm, and hand, too.
Everyone left the room, but Sarah paid them no mind either way, hurrying to Chuck’s side and leaning down to reverently kiss his forehead, threading her fingers through his and squeezing tightly. “Hi,” she breathed, sniffling softly as a tear dripped down her cheek.
“Hi—” His eyes widened suddenly and a look of panic crossed his tired but handsome features. Sarah was worried for a moment, but then he gasped, “Shit, I through a flash bang at Casey.”
In spite of everything, Sarah laughed, leaning into his right, uninjured side in relief and happiness, nuzzling his adorable jawline and letting the tears fall.
I want to know what goes on in a drunk Sarah's head, really drunk not cover drunk. Maybe at a wedding or Christmas party.
They had to be in violation of numerous city codes. How hadn’t the LAPD shown up yet?
The courtyard was full of people, more than half of them extra happy thanks to the concoction Devon and his friends had brewed.
Thankfully, no one had tried whatever the hell was in the bucket Jeff Barnes had carted in. Whatever it was had slopped over the sides as he staggered in with it a few hours earlier, and Sarah was afraid the bits of cement it had landed on would end up eroding.
…Just like Jeff Barnes’ liver.
“I don’t know what this is, but it is tasty and that’s probably a bad thing.”
She turned from her perch on the second floor balcony where she’d been looking down on the party to see her soon to be sister-in-law stepping out of the open doors to join her. Sarah’s eyes fell to the cup Ellie held. If she didn’t know better, she’d say the woman was drinking fruit punch.
“It’s fizzy, even. You should try it.”
Sarah smiled and ducked her head, pushing her hair back behind her ear and holding up her second glass of champagne of the night. “I think I will stick with champagne. But thank you.”
“Whyyy, Sarah? Let loose! Have a sip. Come on.” Ellie pushed her cup into Sarah’s face, causing the younger woman to give her a flat look.
“Fine, just a sip.” Sarah obeyed, taking a sip. It was tasty, but a little too sugary for her to want a full cup. “You know, they talk about this in those videos they showed in middle school. Peer pressure?”
Sarah handed the cup back and Ellie laughed.
“Oops. Guilty. Good, huh?”
“Yeah! They did a good job.”
“But…you aren’t going to get a cup of your own, are you?”
“Nope. Good with my champagne.” Sarah tapped her glass and smirked.
“God, ever since I had Clara, it’s like I can’t get enough alcohol.” Ellie’s eyes widened a little and she held out her hand, backtracking quickly. “Not that I’m an alcoholic now or anything!” She let out a huff of amusement as Sarah laughed. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like, going nine months without a single drink. Ugh, and coffee. Coffee, I missed you.”
Sarah laughed a little harder. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m sorry any woman has to go through that,” Ellie drawled in a flat voice. “The things we do for our kids.”
“Speaking of which, how on Earth isn’t Clara screaming bloody murder with this noise going on out here? I mean, I really thought Devon and his buddies doing I Will Survive was gonna make the entire city curl up and die.”
Ellie didn’t even laugh. She just let out a long, heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s the father of my child. I never thought I’d ever experience shame while looking at that man, but he proved me wrong.”
“Awwww,” Sarah said, even though she couldn’t help but laugh.
“And Clara’s fine. She sleeps like her mother. The second her eyes shut, she’s gone to the world. Until she gets hungry.” She pointed to herself and widened her eyes, mouthing ‘Me’.
It had been three weeks since Ellie gave birth to Clara Woodcomb. Three weeks since Chuck proposed to Sarah in the middle of the hallway in the hospital. And in three weeks, Sarah had deemed the little girl an actual ray of sunshine. The littlest Woodcomb had a big Captain Awesome grin and her mom’s green eyes. Sarah Walker thought she hadn’t felt this protective and close to a small human since…
“Well! Party’s a success!” she chirped, interrupting her thought quickly before it could go any further.
“I think so.” And then Ellie was eyeing her closely. “Can I ask you something? Since, you know, we’re already kind of sisters, but it’s going to be super official soon.” She got that excited sparkle in her eyes and bounced her shoulders with a giddy grin.
Sarah felt her heart skip a beat and knew her face showed similar sentiments. “Yeah! Of course.”
“I have never seen you drunk.” Sarah blinked. That wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting. “That’s not a question. An observation. Sorry. But seriously, I’ve never seen you actually drunk. Why is that?”
The CIA agent opened her mouth to answer, but shut it again, not quite knowing how to answer. And her shoulders sagged a little. “I guess it’s just…not a thing I do?”
“Why? Is it the whole…” Ellie lowered her voice and leaned close. “…spy thing?”
Sarah tilted her head in question.
“I just mean, like…you seem like you’re always alert, you know? You’re constantly looking out for my brother, which I get. And I’m grateful. But even in situations like this—Look, you’re up here surveying everything. Like a guardian angel. Loosen up, sis. Have a little fun, huh? Have some punch.” She swished her glass back and forth, causing Sarah to smirk.
She knew Ellie was simply being candid, in exactly the way Sarah had always known her to be…
But it was different now that Ellie knew the truth about Chuck, now that she knew the truth about who Sarah was and why she’d come here in the first place. Everything was that much more real. And better.
And as uncomfortable as Sarah had been at first with the Bartowski habit of digging and being so open and personal about things, it felt good knowing Ellie trusted her and cared enough to have these sorts of conversations—even after finding out Sarah was a deadly spy with the CIA.
“You’re right. And that’s something I’ve been learning to do since Chuck and I got together for real. But alcohol sort of…dims my inhibitions. And for a really long time, I had to rely on my inhibitions.”
Ellie made a face. “You’re a bad ass CIA agent. I didn’t think you had inhibitions. Jumping out of planes and all that.”
“No, I—” Sarah giggled softly. “I mean, emotional inhibitions.”
The older woman’s confusion cleared and she nodded, looking down at the crowd below. Sarah followed her gaze to see that Chuck had finally rejoined the party after spending a good chunk of it on the back patio grilling burgers and hot dogs with Awesome.
“Right,” Ellie’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she realized a warm smile had stretched over her face as she looked down at her fiancé. Her actual fiancé. The ring on her finger wasn’t for a cover this time. It was hers. He’d given it to her in sincerity and love. “Your emotional inhibitions that kept you from telling that nerd down there how you really felt.”
There was no judgment, no sarcasm, not even a smidgeon of pity or sympathy. Just complete understanding. Even though Ellie could never really understand everything Sarah had gone through in her life, or why the Sarah made the decisions about Chuck and her feelings for him. But Sarah thought maybe Ellie understood that Sarah had good reasons, that it was all very important for Chuck’s safety, for everyone’s safety. And it made her love the woman that much more.
“He is kind of a nerd, huh?” Sarah said, pouting affectionately down at him.
“Pfft. Just a little bit.”
There was a lull in the conversation then before Ellie continued. “Well, okay. Then answer me this. You and Chuck are getting married now. Really getting married. You don’t have to hold back. Those emotional inhibitions can be thrown to the wind. Why aren’t you totally wasted right now?”
Sarah laughed at the last question. “Honestly? Jeff, Lester, and the groupies who follow them around make me feel unsafe in so many ways. My fears are innumerable.”
Ellie laughed this time, lifting her cup. “Cheers to that.” As she took a sip, she looked thoughtful, Sarah pondered to herself. “You know…we can always remove them from the equation.”
Sarah’s immediate thought must have shown on her face because Ellie’s eyes widened. “No, Sarah, I wasn’t thinking about what that creeper van of Jeff’s would look like at the bottom of a cliff with all of them inside of it.”
“That was unnervingly detailed, though.”
Ellie paused. “Touché.”
Sarah snorted.
“I just mean…me, Devon, you, Chuck. Going out. Together. I’ll get a sitter for Clara. And you can actually drink.”
The spy ducked her head a little shyly. “Well, I’d love to, but I’m not sure if I’m going to get drunk—”
“Oh, Sarah, I’m just teasing you.” Ellie put a hand on her shoulder and chuckled warmly. “We need to get out. Okay, fine. I need to get out. It’ll be fun. Just the four of us. Out on the town. All of that exciting stuff. What d’ya say?”
Sarah had no choice but to say yes.
——————
Sarah stared up at the ceiling until it steadied, before lowering her gaze back to the bar in front of her. It had been quite some time since she’d had this much to drink. A little over a year, probably, as the last time had left her in a depressed stupor. Granted, she’d been depressed before drinking, after the whole Chuck rejecting her thing in Prague. After drinking it had been even worse.
She pushed that out of her mind, though. Because she was marrying the jerk now.
He wasn’t a jerk. He was sweet.
He’d been sort of a jerk. Mostly he just had his wires crossed. She’d had her wires crossed. And their wires were crossed in opposite directions. And now their wires were inextricably tangled up together, never to be parted again. Like…wire cutters wouldn’t even work. That was how tightly knotted their wires were. Together.
She was drunk. Apparently.
Chuck looked a little concerned as he glanced across the pub the foursome had found themselves in not an hour earlier. She caught his gaze and made a kissy face at him, to which he furrowed his brow and shook his head, smirking.
She was fine. He didn’t have to worry. She was drunk. But she was fine.
Her lips felt a little numb, though. Was it possible to drink enough that you lost feeling in your lips forever? That was a terrifying thought. Because she really liked kissing a lot. Would Chuck still want to marry her if she lost the ability to kiss because she couldn’t feel her lips?
He would still feel it. But she liked to think half of the fun for him was feeling her kiss him back. She was really could at kissing.
Or they could just use their tongues. And that brought up a slightly disturbing image, to which she responded with a grossed out face.
“What’s wrong? Oh God, are you sick? Are you gonna throw up? Here, let’s get you to the bathr—”
“No, no, no.” Sarah swatted Ellie away with a giggle. “No, I’m okay. I mean…I’m drunk okay. I’m drunk, okay?!” She giggled at her quip that literally only she could ever understand. “No, I was just thinking about tonguing Chuck.”
“Oh. Okay wow. Filter.”
“Wait, what did I just say?”
“Um. Nothing.”
Sarah paused, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, licking her lips slowly. “Good answer.”
“What are you having?” Ellie asked, already holding her own drink in her hand. Sarah thought Ellie wasn’t too far behind her, but the second they’d arrived it had become something of a competition. Neither of them said a word, but Sarah’d exchanged enough glances with the woman throughout the night that told her they were on the same page. Go broke or go home.
As long as nothing actually got broken.
“Sarah?”
“Yes!”
Ellie blinked. “Wow. Okay. Well. You maybe don’t need another one.”
“What kind of crap talk is that? Of course I do. I am sticking with the whiskey. You know why?” She didn’t wait for Ellie to ask why. “Why, Sarah? Why? I’ll tell you why. Because that is my man’s drink. My man drinks whiskey. That man. That man over there.” She pointed across the floor towards Chuck. “He is my man. And he likes whiskey. And he likes me. And whiskey is…good.”
Chuck was good, too. And he still looked mildly concerned as he watched her.
A part of her hated that he wasn’t also drunk. But it was obvious he was holding back a little so that he could take care of her. But she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. She’d gotten worse than this with the CATs but that had been…different. And this was fun. Good, wholesome fun…maybe not wholesome, because Chuck had turned so that the light hit his ass just right and now she was staring at it. She wanted to walk over there and grab it.
She got halfway across the room when she felt Ellie catch her by her arms. “Okay, keep your mind on the game, Sarah. You want a whiskey, remember?”
“Yeah…I was going to go grab Chuck’s sweet flat ass, though.” She lazily threw her thumb over her shoulder in Chuck’s direction, an innocent look on her face.
Ellie laughed so hard, Sarah thought she might actually fall onto the ground. With everything she’d had to drink, she was swaying. Even in Sarah’s state, she had enough sense to reach out and hold onto her. “You are the best drunk.”
“Are you going to get me my whiskey or what? I got the last round, ‘member?”
Ellie raised an eyebrow. “I think actually I did—You know what? Sure okay. You did.”
Sarah made a face, then forgot about the conversation completely, watching as the bartender grabbed the glass to make her whiskey on the rocks again.
“Make another one,” she heard herself say. He paused and looked up at Ellie, who simply shrugged. “What are you two making that…look for? It’s not for me, I’m bringing it to Chuck. Hey!” She leaned forward and put her hand on the bartender’s shoulder. “Let me tell you something…um…” She looked down at his name tag. “Guy. Your name is Guy? Really?” He nodded. “So do people ever go ‘That guy over there!’ and point to you and you go, ‘Wow hey that’s my name! How’d you know?’ Have you ever met anyone named Gal?”
“Uhhh…”
“It’s not important. I have a thing I have to say to you. See that violently sexy man over there in the dark blue shirt and the jeans that fit him like Swayze’s pants fit him in Footloose?”
“That’s Dirty Dancing, honey.”
“He’s super tall,” Sarah continued, ignoring Ellie. “See him?”
“Umm…yep. I see him.”
Sarah swallowed thickly and did her best to collect her thoughts before she continued. “He’s my fiancé. He’s my man. He’s mine.”
“Uh…good. Happy for you.” His mouth twitched in a slightly nervous smile.
Ellie gently reached out to take Sarah’s wrist and pull her hand away from the bartender. “Okay, honey, maybe don’t intimidate the bartender.”
“Intimidate? No! I’m telling him that he can do it, too. He can find love. Anybody can find love, Guy. You just have to open yourself to it. Stop being so afraid!”
Guy shrugged. “I’m actually married…”
“GOOD FOR YOU, GUY!”
He put Sarah’s two whiskeys down in front of her. “Thanks.”
Ellie reached out to hand the drinks to Sarah one by one. “Okay, let’s move away from the bar area now and go back to our boys, hmm? Sound good? Yep. Okay. Let’s go.”
Sarah carried the drinks carefully. Even under the influence of a lot of alcohol, she was incredibly graceful. It was all in her training that had been ingrained into her after all of these years. So that when she finally stopped in front of Chuck, she hadn’t spilled a single drop of either drink.
“I bought this for you.”
“Well, I did but that’s not important,” Ellie muttered behind her.
“Thanks,” he chuckled, taking it and immediately holding her under her elbow ever so gently. “How we doin’, baby? Good? Think maybe that drink you’re holding is too much?”
“Nope. OH! Hey! I went to the restroom a few minutes ago! And along the way…I found this place’s supply closet,” she whispered. Except that it wasn’t a whisper. She in fact said it very loudly. Chuck practically turned purple as she curled her fingers around his black tie. “It looks a little snug but we can make it work—”
“Heeey, how ‘bout that band, huh?”
“Chuck, it’s a jukebox,” Ellie said, her lips quivering as she looked like she was trying not to laugh.
“Is it? Welp.” He downed the whiskey in a few long gulps, then winced, handing Devon the glass.
“What’s the supply closet for—Wait. Wait, I just figured it out.” Captain Awesome did that toothy grin of his and pointed at her. “I like your gumption, Sarah. Very awesome. Very awesome indeed.”
“He usually is, yeah. I’d say…like…ninety-seven percent of the time.”
“Wow okay!” Ellie blurted. Devon just laughed, his eyes wide in surprise and absolute glee.
“Sarah, st—Wait, what? What about the three percent?” Chuck turned to furrow his brow at her, looking a little hurt. He was so cute. Sarah thought maybe he’d look even cuter if his hair was mussed. So she reached up and mussed it, giggling at how much cuter he was.
“Nobody’s perfect, sweetie.”
“Wah—hey! Hair! Please!” He pouted and tried to fix it but it didn’t work. It never worked. He was so cute. “And that’s not fair. I would give you a one hundred and ten percent.”
“Are you really having this conversation right now?” Ellie asked.
“This is the BEST!” Devon laughed.
“Well, okay fine. I’m perfect.” Sarah shrugged a shoulder. “But you said it, not me.”
“Mmm I didn’t thoough, soooo…That was definitely yoooou…” He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow cockily.
“Are you saying I’m not perfect?”
“Mmmmmmm,” he squeaked in a high pitched voice, like he was trying to decide. The air between them was electric and she moved even closer.
“You wanna try that again…nerd?” she asked, sidling up to his chest and looking through her eyelashes. Sometimes she forgot how tall he was. She didn’t know why. Usually men made her feel so tall. When she was in high school, she always felt freakishly tall. Chuck was the first man to make her feel…normal tall. Normal height. She wasn’t good at words with her brain right now.
“Not really, no. Even drunk, you could kick my ass.”
She let out a soft one syllable giggle, smiling widely with her mouth closed. “You’re so sweet.” Sarah wrapped her arm around his torso and squeezed him in a hug, turning to Ellie and Devon. “He’s so sweet!”
Ellie shook her head and chuckled. “She’s drunk.”
“Ya think?” Chuck snarked.
“Oh I am not that bad.” She snaked her hand down and squeezed his backside, causing him to yelp and jump, giving her a wide eyed look and pressing his lips together. “Sorry. Been wanting to do that all night.” He turned away, blushing, and she pinched him this time. He yelped again and glared. “Couldn’t resist!”
She wasn’t sure if her angelic look worked, but at least it made Ellie laugh.
They spent the next hour on a bar crawl. And to his credit, Chuck let her decide when she’d had enough. Which didn’t take long, because she started realizing how heavily she was leaning on him as they chatted with the Woodcombs at their third bar.
And then the giggling happened.
It started as they made their way out of the bar. Maybe it was the cool night air hitting her in the face, or maybe the entire spirit of the night. She hadn’t had this fun out since…Well she’d never had this much fun. She’d had no worries all night. And she wondered if it wasn’t the first night in a long time that she had felt that way.
No cares. No worries. Just alcohol and Chuck’s arms around her.
Or was that…? Oh. That was now. She was currently drunk and sitting in the back of the Woodcomb van with Chuck’s arms around her. That made sense. But she didn’t really remember getting here.
She sat up a little and blinked up at him with half-lidded eyes. “When did we get to the car? I thought we were gonna do that…Irish pub downtown?”
“We did, baby. We were there for twenty minutes.”
“Wait what?”
His jaw fell open. “Did you black out?” he asked slowly.
She scoffed, pushing herself out of his arms and sitting up straight. And she was maybe blushing a little bit. “Agent Sarah Walker does not black out. Please.”
“I think you did, Agent Sarah Walker.”
“I didn’t! I was…distracted.”
Devon laughed from behind the wheel. “Is that what they call it now?”
Sarah smirked when Ellie smacked his shoulder hard.
She spent the rest of the car ride nestled against Chuck, his shirt clutched in her fist, her nose against his collar. Trying to control her rampant thoughts, and biting her lip to keep from her general happiness bubble out of her in another fit of giggles.
She felt safe here. She felt safe with these people. And she felt safe knowing she’d promised the rest of her life not just to Chuck Bartowski, but to his family as well.
“Happy Birthday to Sarah Walker's mission log! How about something set during Phase Three, maybe what Sarah was thinking about on her ride home from castle after the stare down with Casey or maybe what she was thinking on the way to castle before they left for Thailand.” - mkudron
~+~+~+~+~+~
It took the entire length of the drive home from Castle for Sarah to calm down. She was filled with fury, an almost incomprehensible murderous rage.
She slammed her car door and walked through the gate into their courtyard for the first time in days, for the first time since they left to look for Chuck. Sarah didn’t need rest. She didn’t want rest. She would sleep when he was home. She would sleep when she knew he was safe. Alive.
Her heart leapt into her throat then and she swallowed repeatedly, fumbling with her keys to get into her apartment before she kicked the damn door down or broke a window. The fury was still ripe in her breast, making her want to tear the door off of its hinges, flip the couch over, tear the drapes down, and break every single glass in the kitchen.
Instead she just stood there, letting the door shut behind her, staring at everything in the room. She swept her gaze over the television, the game console, the controllers. Morgan had left the blanket bunched up on the couch again, even though she and Chuck asked him numerous times to fold it over the back when he was finished with it.
And then she looked at their bar and saw a mug sitting over at the end, where Chuck usually sat to chat with her if she was cooking or doing dishes after he’d cooked. His coffee mug was still there from a few days ago, before he’d left with Agent Rye.
She slowly crossed the room, the fury dwindling just slightly. And she gently picked up the mug, holding it in both of her hands.
Sarah wasn’t furious with Casey or Morgan or even Beckman, in spite of the woman’s comment about the Intersect being a high priority. She was right. The Intersect was high priority. That didn’t mean General Beckman wasn’t concerned for Chuck. And yet, Sarah still felt her outburst was valid. Finding Chuck wasn’t about the damn Intersect. He’d been taken for the Intersect, yes, but that wasn’t why she was desperately scanning the entire European continent the last few days. She didn’t give a rat’s ass about the damn Intersect. This was about Chuck. It was always about Chuck.
Swallowing thickly, she carried the mug around the bar and into the kitchen, stopping at the sink and looking down at the small stack of dishes Morgan had probably left there. The fact that he could even eat with Chuck missing was astounding, but then she’d learned very quickly after moving in with Chuck and his best friend that she shouldn’t be too surprised by anything where Morgan was concerned. Like how he’d pushed himself in between her and Casey, stopping what could have been a pretty bad situation.
She’d been on the verge of throwing a punch. It wouldn’t have solved anything. It wouldn’t have even done anything to relieve her tension. Not even for that split second of feeling her knuckles slam into his stubborn face. But he was wrong. She didn’t need to sleep. She didn’t need to rest. She didn’t need anything in the entire world except Chuck. She needed to find him so badly it was making everything—every single part of her—absolutely ache.
Sarah reached out to turn on the water, beginning to wash things. The Bartowskis did dishes when they were upset or stressed, so maybe she’d take a page out of their book and try it. It would be a distraction.
And yet it was such a menial, easy thing that it did nothing to distract her.
Because Chuck was out there without the Intersect to protect him, without her or Casey to protect him. Somebody had him who was willing to do anything to get the Intersect, no matter what they had to do to Chuck. The thought of what that meant for her Chuck was staggering in its horror, so much so that Sarah had to hold onto the counter to steady herself.
God, where was he?
She’d never felt so disconnected from him, so far away. Like the tether that bound them together had been severed by the Belgian somehow. She was so lost. She didn’t know where to look. They had no leads. Numerous agents were out there looking for him all over the globe and there was nothing.
Sarah was losing her footing. Losing her control.
And she finally had to stop cleaning the dishes before she accidentally broke one of them.
As she dried her hands on the dish towel, she vowed to do her best not to sleep.
She was haunted by too many things once her eyes shut. She shouldn’t have said it. She shouldn’t have told Chuck he wasn’t a spy. And the implications of “not right now”…that without the Intersect, Chuck was just a nerdy guy running around in dangerous situations he wasn’t ready for. That he wasn’t an asset to their team unless he had a government super computer in his brain. She saw his face when she shut her eyes, the way he’d looked so stunned and hurt, how he hadn’t said anything after her outburst.
God, Chuck talked so much. He talked all the time. And it looked like she’d found the one thing that could shut him up. She knew she hadn’t just hurt him; she’d embarrassed him, as well. In front of Casey, Rye, and Beckman. She’d humiliated him.
But she’d been right, hadn’t she? With that freaking maniac masochist Rye as his only backup, Chuck was outnumbered. Any spy would have been, whether it was her, Casey…anyone would have been captured in that situation. She should have been there to protect him because he was her partner. But instead she’d listened to her orders.
She was always following orders.
If it wasn’t Chuck’s humiliation and hurt that haunted her when she closed her eyes—the thought that he’d tried to do something foolhardy and heroic to prove himself to her hadn’t left her mind for even a moment—she heard the Belgian’s voice. “Pursue Agent Carmichael and we will kill him…slowly. There will be no further warning.”
And every time she heard it, it sounded worse and more terrifying. Like her own brain was purposefully trying to drive her insane. Slowly.
What were they doing to Chuck at this very moment? What torture was he being forced to endure?
Sarah turned and threw the dish towel as hard as she could against the cupboard, pressing her hands to her face and forcing herself not to break down. That wasn’t going to help anybody. Not her, and definitely not Chuck. Wherever he was now.
So she slowly left the kitchen and walked down the hallway, half dreading entering a room so full of Chuck’s things when he was missing. When he might never come back. She immediately hated herself for even thinking that. Maybe there weren’t leads yet, maybe things looked awful and bleak now, but she wasn’t going to stop looking until she found him. She was the CIA’s best. She was finding the man she loved, or she was going to die trying.
But her determination didn’t make it hurt less. Because he was all over their bedroom. Virtually everything was his. Sarah didn’t have much. She had her clothes in the closet, in the drawers, and her shoes were in various places. That was it. Everything on the walls, on the desk, on the shelf behind their bed—it was all Chuck’s.
She had less control now than she’d ever had in her entire life. Being here at home wasn’t going to help her get that feeling of being in control back. Because it wasn’t going to help her get Chuck back. And until she found Chuck safe and sound and whole, she was going to feel like this. Like a chunk of her was gone—a very important chunk that she needed to be able to function.
She hated this.
She hated waiting around for some clue as to where Chuck could be. Sarah wanted to pack her things and go. She should be out there looking. None of those other agents knew him. They didn’t know how important he was outside of the fact that someone had told them he was important.
Sarah Walker knew Chuck Bartowski. She had seen sides of him that no one else in the world had. When they were alone and wrapped up in the most intimate embrace two people could share. When he was at his lowest, sitting at the end of their bed with his face in his hands, crying over the death of his father as she held him tightly.
Nobody knew just how special he was, not like she did.
That was why she needed to be out there. Right now. Looking for him.
Because there wasn’t a soul on this entire earth who needed to find him as much as she did.
Feeling a wave of despair overcome her, she threw herself onto their bed and blinked at the wall, her eyes welling up with tears. She just wanted him here. And okay. She would give anything—literally anything—to have him back.
She couldn’t just stay here. She rolled onto her back in frustration, staring at the ceiling for a moment before shifting back onto her side. Her eyes fell on the door of their closet where Chuck always hung his Nerd Herd shirt. It was still there, exactly where he’d left it after his last Buy More shift before Rye whisked him away.
And for some reason she was drawn to it. She pushed herself up from the mattress and stood beside the bed, moving towards his shirt almost like she was in a trance, her steps slow and measured. How many times had she seen him wear this over the last three and a half years? So many times. It was a part of who he was. It was what he’d been wearing when she met him for the first time, not knowing just how much her life would change, how much she would be rewarded, from that point on.
Her adorable nerd. Who was currently in the worst danger he’d ever been in his life. And for once, she had no way of protecting him. No way of keeping him safe.
Sarah felt that despair crashing in on her again and she pressed her lips together to keep the threatening tears at bay as best she could. It wasn’t working, as one dripped down her cheek.
She couldn’t help it. She reached out to feel it in her hands, hesitating just a moment because she wasn’t sure if she could handle the emotions that would come with it. But then she took it up in her grip and even leaned in to smell it just a little. It smelled like him, so comforting and warm, and she was right to hesitate, because the resulting ache was overwhelming.
This was the best she had of him while he was gone. This silly shirt with its pocket protector.
And there was something in the pocket, come to think of it, besides just the name tag and the pens and screwdriver—the very same one he’d used to fix her phone years ago. She pulled the folded up piece of paper out of his pocket, not having the necessary room in her mind to wonder if she might be invading his privacy.
Curiosity getting the best of her, she left the shirt behind and wandered back to the bed, unfolding the paper and sitting heavily on the mattress. It was a map…or something. With little symbols drawn on it. Cartoonish cars and a horse. An airplane dragging a banner. And X’s…almost like a treasure map a little boy would’ve drawn before going outside to play pirates in his backyard.
There was a knock on the bedroom door then, and she quickly folded it again, suddenly a little aware of this being Chuck’s, of the fact that he’d probably kept it secret for a reason.
She knew it was Morgan even before she glanced at him, but she turned away quickly to wipe at the tears on her cheeks, still not entirely comfortable with Chuck’s best friend seeing her this vulnerable.
“How you holdin’ up?” he asked in a soft, caring voice.
It was silly, trying to hide things from Morgan, when he was definitely missing Chuck, too. And he obviously cared, considering how quick he was to follow her here to check on her, in spite of how intimidating and terrifying she’d been in the hallways of Castle earlier.
“Not great,” she replied truthfully, her voice scratchy and broken. There was no use trying to act like this wasn’t tearing her to pieces. Not with Morgan.
“Yeah. No, me either. Had this…awful taste in my mouth ever since Chuck disappeared. Which makes me think…Wherever he is he’s probably eating something icky.” She gave him a quick look, thinking to herself that only Chuck Bartowski would have a grown man who still said the word icky as his best friend. Morgan looked a little embarrassed. “Strange twin thing,” he said, as though that explained it. It didn’t, even though it was sweet. And a testament to how much Chuck touched other people’s lives besides just her own.
But with how connected and close Chuck and Morgan were, maybe he’d know what the strange map she found in Chuck’s pocket was for. She unfolded it again and turned back to him, holding it up for him to see. “Do you know what this is?”
He took a step closer as she laid it on the bed, and then he backed up quickly. “No. Nope!” He turned away and she knew he was lying to her for some strange reason. “Never…never really saw that before.”
She looked down at her hands in her lap, feeling that damned despair creeping up on her again. And she said it out loud for the first time since Chuck disappeared. “I really miss him.”
She heard the ache she was feeling in her voice, and she tried to push away the tiny bit of shyness she felt at letting Morgan in as much as she was, letting him see how raw she was, how awful all of this was for her to bear.
“Fine. Okay? I-I fold. It’s Chuck’s proposal plan.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. He pulled his fingers away and muttered, “I hate myself” up at the ceiling. But his weird behavior was lost to Sarah as she registered his words.
Chuck’s proposal plan. PROPOSAL?
She shifted on the bed to turn towards Morgan. “Chuck was planning on proposing?”
She felt breathless suddenly, and maybe even a little dizzy. It wasn’t just the lack of sleep and stress. He was proposing? Chuck was going to propose marriage?
Morgan dropped his hand and nodded, wandering over to her side. “Yeah.”
He plopped down on the mattress next to her, picking up the map and turning it so that they could both look at it. “See, it’s a combination of-of things that are important to both of you.” She stared at Morgan, in spite of everything, feeling the beginnings of a smile on her face. Because she was suddenly imagining Chuck and Morgan sitting in here together; Chuck agonizing over how he’d propose, Morgan talking him through it. “And some of it is just from when he was little,” he continued, smiling in amusement. “So…Here is where he was gonna drive up in his DeLorean. Of course,” Morgan said, pointing at the silly looking car on the map. “You coming down on a wild stallion,” he pointed at the chubby brown horse that looked nothing like a wild stallion. “You’d meet here.” He pointed at one of the X’s then.
Sarah felt overwhelmed, and a little heart warmed by how Morgan seemed to be almost excited about all of this, even as he was obviously amused by it, too. “And then from there, you guys were gonna hop in his Lamborghini and take off down the coast.” He reeled himself in a little. “This actually though might be an older draft. You know? It-It’s been revamped since puberty.”
The terrible circumstances notwithstanding, she felt overwhelmed by this development. Chuck was going to propose. That was huge. And…life-changing. “When was he planning on doing this?” she interrupted, her fingers and toes buzzing.
Morgan sobered up quite a bit. “I don’t know. I mean, ever since he lost the Intersect, the proposal plan got put on hold.”
Sarah looked at Morgan closely, her heart beating faster, feeling almost a little panicked. “Why? Did he think that I wouldn’t wanna marry him without the Intersect? Is that how I made him feel?” she asked quickly, realizing that was exactly what had happened. And there she was sitting in Castle almost a week ago, telling him that he wasn’t a spy without the Intersect. She’d cut him down again.
“No!” Morgan said immediately. “No. Chuck knew that—” He stopped, a flash of frustration in himself sweeping over his face. “Chuck knows that you love him, Sarah, okay? It’s just…You’re kind of a big fish. You know?”
The tears came faster as she figured out where he was going with this. The one thing Chuck had never quite gotten over, even after they starting dating for real…His own insecurities about not deserving her. For whatever reason. He was a nerd, he didn’t look like a GQ model, he wasn’t a real spy. All things she now knew still went through his mind. None of it was true. Well, he was a nerd, but she loved that about him. And he was handsome, the perfect combination of adorable and sexy. He was a real spy, too. But her overprotectiveness maybe created some doubt about how much she really believed that…at least, it had in his mind apparently.
She suddenly felt lost again.
“And to a regular guy with no super computer in his brain, I kiiiinda think that that’s pretty intimidating.”
Sarah took a deep breath, her chest throbbing in hurt as she thought of how often Chuck must have laid next to her with thoughts like this in his head. Insecurities about what might happen to their relationship if he lost the Intersect for good. Wondering if she’d love him as much if he didn’t have the knowledge and skill sets the Intersect had given him. And she’d been right there next to him, thinking everything was fine, not knowing the doubts he harbored.
It hurt worse than anything.
And she felt the need to explain to Morgan. If Chuck wasn’t here, if she couldn’t tell him, she needed to tell someone. She at least needed Morgan to know. All of this was so very wrong. They were wrong about her.
She stood up and walked away from him, trying to gather herself to even be able to speak through the awful bubble wedged in her chest. “That’s not the reason why I love Chuck.” She spun on him. “I do wanna spend the rest of my life with Chuck, with or without the Intersect!”
Sarah wanted to make sure she emphasized that part. She wanted him to believe her, because it was true. Nothing in her life had ever been more true.
“That’s fantastic!” Morgan said, standing up and slapping his open hand with the back of his other one. “That’s great! Yeah! And he knows that, right? Because you told him that!”
It was like a pit had opened up in her stomach, swallowing up everything inside of her. She felt lightheaded, dizzy. She’d just admitted to Chuck’s best friend that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Chuck, before she’d even told him. Had she ever told him how much he meant to her? She had. She knew she had. But was any of it enough?
She never said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
And they’d never had such an extended period of time in which he didn’t have the Intersect.
They’d all been holding out for him to get it back. Because that was what always happened. He always got it back eventually. But the more time went by without him getting it back—as the days kept flying by without even a hint of the Intersect—his confidence must have been crumbling. And his insecurities mounting. For all of the ways the Intersect had been a blessing to Chuck, to her, and to the government, the past few years, it really was a curse, too.
And now that Chuck didn’t have it, he was stuck. Trapped. And in the worst danger any of them could’ve ever imagined for him.
Worse than that, he felt inadequate in Sarah’s eyes.
“Oh.” Morgan apparently took her heartbroken, desperate features as an answer. And he plopped back down to sit at the foot of the bed.
All of this stemmed from her. His need to show her he was worthy, and his need to get the Intersect again so that he could get back to a place where he felt like he was good enough to deserve her. And despite never doing anything consciously to make him feel that way, the fact was she’d still made him feel that way.
All this time, she’d felt like it wasn’t possible for her to love him any more than she already did. And in the meantime, Chuck had been left wondering. It was all her fault. She should’ve told him more. Shown him more. Said something—anything—to make him confident enough to propose to her whether or not he had the Intersect, knowing she’d say yes.
How could she let him think her answer would ever be anything but yes?
That was it.
She pushed past Morgan.
“What, uh…Sarah? Sarah?”
Agent Walker ignored Chuck’s best friend as he chased after her, gathering her jacket from where she’d tossed it on the bed and pulling it back on, grabbing her car keys out of the pocket.
“Hey, uh…Sarah? Buddy? Pal? Where are you goin’, huh? What’s goin’ on? Oh man, Casey’s gonna kill me.”
Sarah spun on him once she reached the front door, her hand on the doorknob. “I’ve been following orders my whole life, Morgan. But I’m done. I’m not following anymore orders. I’m doing this my own way. I’m getting my man back. Because that’s what he is. He is mine. With or without the super computer.”
She was glad he didn’t follow her as she left him standing there gaping. And she was also glad to see hope in his face before she turned away to leave. And relief. He had faith in her to bring Chuck back. And she suddenly had faith in herself.
Nothing was stopping her. Not Casey, not General Beckman, not even a whole damn army. She’d rampage through an entire continent if she had to. She was done playing by the rules.
I picked up a guy at a library. Yes, you read that right. He didn’t ask me out. This story involves me asking a guy out.
My bravery begins studying for midterms at the NYU library. Midterms are a flustering time where I usually am wandering around Manhattan in sweatpants, a hoodie and sneakers (attempting to pull off the “I just worked out look,” which is really the only time it truly is socially acceptable to walk around in sweats). I marched into the library with the intention of having an extremely productive study session. This is where I went wrong. If you want to teach yourself about residuals, don’t sit a couple seats down from the most attractive guy you have seen in your life. My studying for my applied regression exam quickly turned into me G-Chatting multiple friends of mine explaining how hot the guy a couple seats down from me was.
This man was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Chiseled jaw, athletic build and so focused on his reading. Me gushing about this guy over chat somehow morphed into my friends talking me into trying to talk to him. One problem...we were in a library...a library where talking is prohibited. This is where I got creative. I took a piece of scrap paper and wrote:
“on the off chance you are single (then I put my phone number...which no I am not going to post on a blog online) --the girl in the grey sweater”,
(Let me also say calling my grey hoodie a sweater was a generous description of the really unfortunate outfit I was wearing.)
Then came the hard part. Slipping him the note. I now officially appreciate the guts it take for guys who have asked me out in person, because I was so nervous. The only reason I think I was able to go through with asking him out was because I had the realization that I would most likely never see this guy again and I had absolutely nothing to lose by at least giving it a shot. (I also was planning on slipping him a piece of paper which is significantly easier than straight up asking a stranger out). I decided the best way to execute this was to collect all of my things and drop the piece of paper on the table next to him on my way out of the library. I magically managed to slide the paper perfectly next to him and walk (Read: run) out of the library.
A half hour went by and I hadn’t heard from him. I texted my friends, “Oh well, at least I tried” when all of a sudden I received a text. “Not so off a chance as you thought.” I then screenshot this text and forwarded it to almost everyone in my contact list with the caption “HOT LIBRARY GUY IS SINGLE”. After texting back and forth for a bit, hot library dude and I decided to grab drinks the following night after one of his classes. Maybe two minutes after agreeing on where we were having our date I had a brief moment of panic with the realization I had zero idea how old this guy was. Since I had met him in the NYU library, there was a potential situation where I may have just asked out a guy who was still in undergrad! This is where google comes in handy. I creepily Googled him (using the recon skills I acquired from my LinkedIn date) and finally determined we had graduated the same year. With the relief of knowing I hadn’t just asked out a guy younger than me I then had my second moment of panic. What do I wear??
The next night came and I had tried on about every possible outfit combination from my wardrobe (which is predominantly black and navy blue), and after approval from my roommate who works in fashion, settled on a black skirt and black shirt (because, yes, I do live in NYC where we don’t believe color belongs in fashion). Library guy had chosen to get drinks at a speakeasy so we planned to meet outside and then go inside together. My plan was to arrive fashionably late so that I wouldn’t have to stand waiting around for him outside. Of course the subway materialized as soon as I stepped onto the platform, which meant I arrived early. I will never understand how the subway consistently does not arrive on time when you are rushing to get to class or work, but when you are trying to be late, it is on time. My solution to my early arrival was to duck into a CVS and examine sunglasses for a good 15 minutes (I didn’t buy anything).
When an appropriate amount of time had passed, I met him at the door. Tall and gorgeous as ever he escorted me inside and promptly ordered two drinks for us. This is where the date became problematic. Turns out I had asked out a former Division I college football player who had nothing to talk about other than college football. Turns out, he was even studying sports business so he could manage college football! The music at the bar was loud, so I found I was repeatedly yelling at him, “What did you say?” Clearly I shouldn’t have bothered, because after a half hour, he just went through his favorite college football teams. Instead I began to completely tune him out and plan my lunch for the next day (carrots and hummus, if you were wondering). I briefly tuned back in to hear “I decided to pick up a book only after injuring my knee during a season.” (Oh good. I am also on a date with a pseudo literate human now). Back to tuning him out and planning my lunch. After making a decision to include celery in my carrot and hummus mix I suddenly remembered that my roommates used to play a football video game that portrayed Division I college athletes as video game characters (they legally weren’t able to use the athletes names but apparently looked like the players, had the same stats and listed the same college major). I turned to this gorgeous but incredibly boring man in front of me and asked him if he in fact had one of those video game characters made after him. He solemnly looked at me and told me he did. It was about then that I burst out laughing. I was on a date with a guy who had a video game character made after him. He was not as amused and most likely thought I was insane however, to me this may have been the most entertaining thing he had told me all evening.
Reason for not seeing this guy again: My friend promised she would buy me the video game he was a character in for Hanukkah so it would probably be awkward to play that in front of him.
Asking a guy out is not a terrible idea and I can say I have officially gone on a date with one of the most attractive men I have met in my life.But I’ve learned I shouldn’t be nervous about going on a date because of a guys looks. Every guy has a flaw. In this guy’s case it was that he hadn’t decided to pick up a book, or a hobby apart from football, for that matter. But that’s OK, because he was still super hot, and at least I got a free drink out of it.
