chuck fic: not a robot, but a ghost [1/3]
not a robot, but a ghost
[1/3]
agent walker has an assignment, mr. bartowski. life post-intersect. chuck/sarah, pg-13, 4775 words. spoilers and au for chuck vs. the ring.
Is it easier for lovers?
Oh, they use each other to hide themselves from their fate.
-- Rilke, The First Duino Elegy
Sarah's fingers brush lazily against flannel sheets. The motion jolts her into consciousness. The sheets at her hotel are crisper. She opens her eyes, blinking as a familiar bedroom fills her vision. The Tron poster -- Chuck's bedroom. She turns her head and there he is, sleeping just next to her, his arms around her waist. She almost kisses him but then stops herself. She just looks at him, instead.
This is what she left the new Intersect project for. The CIA in exchange for this bedroom. In exchange for Chuck, his chest rising and falling against her shoulder blades. She turns to face him.
The movement wakes Chuck. For a second he groans, then rubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands, his elbow hitting her cheek. Sarah feels him flinch against her.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Sarah! You okay?" He cups her cheek with his hand. "I completely forgot -- I mean, I guess I just never thought, I mean --"
She presses her hand over his.
"It's okay, Chuck. I can take a lot." She doesn't realize she's smiling until he smiles back at her.
"Really? Do you think you could take this?" He leans forward and kisses her. "Or this?" He plants a kiss on the dip of her neck. She grins at him.
"I can take it." She wrinkles her nose at him, still smiling. "In fact..."
She pulls him towards her and kisses him on the mouth. His tongue runs along her teeth and she almost starts to laugh. This was why she stayed in Burbank.
"What else can you take?" Chuck asks, waggling his eyebrows. "This is an extremely important mission, Sarah Walker."
"Oh, I understand," she says, widening her eyes to keep from laughing. "I'll do my best."
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Chuck murmurs against her lips, brushing the hair off of her face.
"Chuck --" she starts to say, but there's the sound of the front door opening, and footsteps in the hall. Nobody else is supposed to be home: Awesome and Ellie should be in Fiji by now and they'd made up a bed for Mr. Bartowski at Castle. And these footsteps are different from Mr. Bartowski's slightly shuffling walk. They have authority.
She recognizes them too well.
On reflex, she grabs Chuck's hand.
The door bursts open and maybe General Beckman is tiny, but Sarah never realized how imposing she'd look against the walls of this particular bedroom.
"Sarah?" Chuck whispers between clenched teeth, "Please.... please tell me you didn't invite Beckman."
"Agent Walker has an assignment, Mr. Bartowski. When she didn't leave with Agent Larkin I knew I would have to personally extract her. The Intersect project needs you, Agent Walker." Beckman doesn't even bother to look apologetic. "I believe you turned down a spot on the team, Mr. Bartowski?"
She can feel Chuck nod and all she can do is press her fingers tight, tighter against the back of his hand.
"Agent Walker, I'll meet you outside in ten minutes. Your things are being transferred to Langley. Goodbye, Mr. Bartowski." She turns and walks out of the apartment, her footsteps echoing.
As soon as the door closes behind Beckman, Sarah feels Chuck's lips on her earlobe, running down her neck. For a minute -- just a minute -- she can relax against him, his arms around her and his lips tracing the curve of her shoulder.
"I don't have a choice, Chuck." The words are muffled against his skin. "But you need to know that if I did, if I could walk away without being dragged back, I'd stay here. If I could choose."
He squeezes her hand and she can feel the pressure of each fingernail against her hand, five little marks that might stay after she walks out the door.
"You have nine minutes," he says, glancing at the clock. She wishes there was a way to save the look on his face, the dorky smile he somehow manages to give her. "I'm not going to see you again, am I?"
She runs her foot down the line of his calf.
"I don't know what surveillance will be like for the project. But if I can come back, Chuck --"
He kisses her mid-sentence.
"Don't," he says when he pulls away, "I know."
He kisses her again, running a hand through her hair. She tries to focus on everything, the texture of his mouth on hers, the flannel sheets against her legs, Chuck's fingernails against the back of her hand, even his morning breath. She kisses him until she's dizzy from no air, and when they pull away they're both gasping.
He glances at his nightstand, the numbers on the alarm clock.
"You've got five minutes, Sarah. And I don't think Beckman'd be too shy to pull you out of here naked." She forces herself to smile at him, like she's going to stay in Burbank forever.
Maybe Chuck turned up the air conditioning last night, but the air is freezing on her skin when she makes herself get out of his bed. She has to clench her jaw to keep from shivering. Her last five minutes in this room. What's the use of lying to herself?
The dark blue bridesmaid's dress is lying like a puddle of satin on the floor. She pulls it on, wrinkles and all.
Chuck catches her eye and grins.
"You look amazing."
"You're not too bad yourself." She leans over him and kisses him, tangling her fingers in his hair. His lips are a little chapped. Dammit, they can make her leave him but she's going to remember it all, every single detail. The comic books, the posters, the computer. The way his fingers feel against her cheek.
There's a knock on the door.
"I don't want to leave," she whispers against his lips. "And if I can --"
"I know." He pulls her into one last kiss. She can see the effort he's making to keep the smile on his face. "Go save the world."
It's all she can do to smile back at him, and anyway what would she say?
The humid Los Angeles air hits her like a slap and General Beckman doesn't smile.
Once, Sarah tells herself, this was the life she chose.
"Chuck, I know you're in love with this new job at Apple and everything," Ellie says, her frustration audible even over the phone. "But don't you think you could spare ten minutes to tell your big sister about it?"
Chuck taps his fingers against the phone pressed to his ear.
"They're having me develop this new operating system, Ellie, it's really awesome. I actually think Awesome would agree on this one. And I've been staying late to work more on it. It's that cool."
"So now that you're a big shot you don't have time to call home?" He can tell Ellie's smiling, though. She'd jumped up and down and hugged him when he'd told her about the move to Seattle. "Dad called yesterday, by the way. He was asking for you. Didn't you tell him about the new job?"
"Yeah. Maybe he didn't realize I'd moved?" He can feel his forehead wrinkling. It's easier over the phone, but he's still terrible at lying. Dad's been in hiding since Ellie's wedding and his calls always come from random pay phones. And Chuck did talk to him last night, so he was probably fishing for something to talk about with Ellie. "He was really excited about the Apple gig. I guess anything's better than working for Roark, right?"
"So he hasn't asked you to sabotage your new career?"
"Nope," Chuck says. He still can't tell Ellie about who Ted Roark really was and that still bothers him. But one of the perks of life post-Intersect is being able to tell his sister the truth. Most of the time.
"Hey, have you heard from Sarah at all?" He can tell this is the question she's been wanting to ask. "I know, I'm totally going into big sister mode, I just miss you guys. Even Morgan's in Hawaii, for god's sake."
"Well, she's been busy taking care of her dad. I think she's going to try and find a job in DC so she can be with him. We get to talk, though."
He keeps his fingers crossed that Ellie won't ask anything else. He'd had to make up a story after she and Awesome had come back from their honeymoon to no Sarah. And somehow he just couldn't tell the easiest lie and say they'd broken up.
"Well, tell her I miss her, okay?" Chuck can hear Awesome's voice in the background. "But I've got to run. Devon's taking me out to dinner! He says hi, by the way. I love you, little brother."
"Love you too!"
Without Ellie's voice, the apartment seems weirdly empty. It doesn't help that he barely has anything in said apartment. He's been here three months but he can't quite motivate himself to decorate. And Ellie confiscated his Tron poster. So mostly he works.
A week after Sarah left, he'd gotten a call from Apple inviting him to an interview based on a reccomendation from the CIA. He'd gotten hired on the spot -- which, as Awesome said later, was awesome -- and now he works on using encoded images for data storage on an up and coming Mac operating system. Sometimes Chuck appreciates the irony of the situation.
The people at work are great, definitely there's no Emmet or Jeff or Lester, but Seattle is weirdly lonely without Morgan and Ellie and Awesome. Even without Casey. And without Sarah. When he goes out for drinks with his new work buddies, every blonde girl with her face turned away magically becomes Sarah until she turns her head and it's somebody else completely. Anyway it's a lot better than the Buy More, and nobody's hanging him out of windows or holding a gun to his head. Maybe it's just all the rain making him emo.
Because there was a letter in his box yesterday addressed to Charles Carmichael. He knew the handwriting on the envelope. It'd been on a grocery list with invisible ink. The return address was written out to Jenny Burton, with a PO Box in DC.
Inside was a string of numbers and at first Chuck had groaned. But it turned out to be the easiest cipher: the letters numerically arranged. It'd only taken him an hour or so to translate. Sarah wrote about her new DC apartment, that his new address was in the CIA database, and congratulations on the new job. That surveillance was tight on her new project -- she never mentioned the Intersect -- but she'd finally found a way to contact him. He could write to this address, she said, but to use at least this code.
And then at the end, a string of numbers:
18-5-13-5-13-2-5-18, 25-15-21 3-1-14 4-15 1-14-25-20-8-9-14. 9 13-9-19-19 25-15-21. 9 12-15-22-5 25-15-21.
He can't get them out of his head. Remember, you can do anything. I miss you. I love you. He kept the letter in his pocket all day today, running his thumb against the folded edges. Soon he's going to wear a hole in the paper.
But maybe it's not the biggest lie he's telling Ellie. Maybe Sarah can get out one day. If he can do anything, why can't she? Sarah's amazing.
At least he can write her a letter. With this cipher it can even be pretty long. It's almost like he's got a real long distance girlfriend... if they were all living a hundred years ago. But anyway it's something.
Dear Sarah, he starts. You ever seen the movie Sleepless In Seattle? Ellie made me watch it with her in high school. Anyway, lets spend more than five minutes on screen together, okay? I really hated that movie. But I like Seattle...
He already knows how he's going to end it. He tries to imagine her fingers holding the letter, her face while she reads. And maybe it's a hokey to end a letter with "I miss you. I love you." like he's Tom Hanks, but he can imagine her smile, finishing the letter. He's looked like a loser in front of her before. It's worth it.
Sometimes, when she has a few hours free, Sarah likes to go to places where she'll be completely anonymous. There's a Starbucks a block away from her apartment, and now she sits at a table there, sipping an iced latte. It's August but she's shivering in her tank top. She should've gotten something hot to drink. But it doesn't really matter. There's another letter from Chuck. She only trusts herself to read them in places like this, where she could be anybody at all.
Dear Sarah,
I keep forgetting to ask you, how's Bryce? Does he like his new assignment? I hope you two are having a good time saving the world. You must be doing a good job, because it definitely hasn't ended yet.
Morgan called me yesterday. He actually got a job as a Hibachi chef! Wow, right? He's my best friend and everything but I didn't think anybody would actually hire him... I guess the little bearded man turned out to be a natural once he figured out where to buy the knives. Anna told me that she says hi, by the way! And that she hopes your dad gets better soon.
Work is still awesome. I actually want to be there and, bonus, I wouldn't have to lie about it to look good on dates. You already know about the Buy More, though.
If you ever can, do you want to go backpacking in Europe? I know it's random. But I want to go and you could definitely be useful. If anyone tried to steal our Euros you could kick their asses. Don't worry if you can't go until we're old. You'll still kick ass.
Ellie and Awesome say hi. To be honest I think they miss you more than me. I don't blame them.
Say hi to Obama for me! But more importantly: I miss you. I love you.
Love,
Chuck
She's been trained to read ciphers much more complex than this. If anyone were to ask, she'd say she was programming a computer. Chuck gave her a few tips on how to sound legitimate. Although this is exactly why she's here with this letter. Nobody will ask why she's reading and re-reading a page full of numbers over iced coffee.
She curls a strand of hair around a finger absentmindedly as she re-reads the letter. It's like sunlight after days full of paperwork and studies on the new Intersect.
Bryce had told her that Orion changed the programming for the newest version, but the results have been irregular at best. Sometimes the flashes are clearer than Chuck's were, sometimes Bryce flashes on abilities he's never had, speaks languages he's never known. But those flashes don't last, In the middle of a test he'll forget kung fu entirely, or drop a gun, or switch between three languages in one sentence. And that's at the best of times. On occasion -- only twice in the past four months, but more than enough to scare them -- he'll babble government secrets like he's talking about a sale at the Buy More. It's like the new programming isn't meant for a human brain.
Or maybe it wasn't meant for Bryce's brain. Chuck never experienced anything lke this. Sarah's not sure anymore. The problems are so erratic. It's almost impossible to design tests anymore, let alone anyway to fix the problems. They were supposed to be in the field by now. Other agents were supposed to upload the Intersect, and they were supposed to be in the field by now. But with an asset so erratic, Sarah's stuck running diagnostic tests under maximum security. She's getting claustrophobic. And if the CIA's top team of analysts can't find a solution, she's starting to doubt one even exists.
General Beckman stopped by almost every day the first month of the project. This new Intersect made up for all of the trouble with Chuck, her eyes always lit up the minute she saw Bryce. But after weeks of no improvement she started coming every other day, then once a week. Sarah hasn't seen her at all in the past month.
So an hour at even the most generic coffee shop in the world is a luxury. With a page full of numbers. Especially that.
If I can come back, she'd told Chuck. And why can't she?
But give it a month or two, maybe three, and the CIA will put her in the field again. She doesn't think about what could happen to Bryce. Maybe they'll figure out a way to take the Intersect out of his head. They have to. She can't think about Bryce trapped in a cell underground for the rest of his life, all those secrets curled up inside his brain.
This is the time she has, not to think about it.
Dear Chuck, she writes, the numbers easy as letters.
Work is terrible right now. I can't really say anything about it, but I'm pretty jealous of you right now. I haven't wanted to stay late for weeks. But I guess that's why they call it work, right?
She looks up from the paper and feels herself sigh. All this small talk is ridiculous. It doesn't even sound like her. But what else can she say? Her letters could be intercepted so easily if someone wanted them. Even the hardest cipher can be cracked.
Tell Morgan I say congratulations. I hope he's not perving his customers, but I guess Anna will keep him in line. If he's in DC he'd better be ready to cook me something, although I doubt he'd want to leave Hawaii just to cook me dinner. You know, it's hard to believe the two of you worked at the Buy More just a few months ago.
I really doubt that Ellie and Devon miss me more than you, they just haven't heard from me. Are you visiting for Thanksgiving? It's three months away, but I made a turkey burger for lunch yesterday and it reminded me of Thanksgiving at your house. Nobody can make turkey like Ellie. Make sure you enjoy it extra for me. That's such a girlfriend thing to say, isn't it? Sorry, I don't know what else to write.
She sets her pen on the table and takes a sip of her latte, then another. She shouldn't be writing to Chuck like a real girlfriend, no matter how all of their letters end. What happens when he meets the girl he's supposed to fall in love with? But what is she supposed to write.
Once, maybe two years ago, Chuck asked her to tell him something real about herself. Can't she give him that now, just one little detail? There's a country between them and nobody cares what Jenny Burton has to say inside an envelope, except for him.
This is totally random, and I know never told you, but I went to Harvard. I guess I shouldn't have such a hard time figuring out what to say, right? I really went there, though, no lies. Is there a Harvard-Stanford rivalry? I forget. But I wanted you to know something true about me.
I hope we can go backpacking soon. Europe sounds amazing.
Bryce isn't as well as we'd hoped. I wish I could say more, but I really can't. If I could see you I would tell you about it. Just be glad it's not you.
I need to get back to work, Chuck, but remember: I miss you. I love you.
Love,
Sarah
She's got to report to Beckman in an hour. But first she has to mail the letter. If this is what she has, she has to make it count.
Maybe one of these days she'll get a chance to meet the President and tell him that Chuck says hi.
She takes one last sip of her latte and walks out into the DC streets. Once, she asked to save the world.
Chuck's at work, checking out the prototype to his new operating system, when his cell phone rings. He almost doesn't pick it up, he's noticed just a few bugs and he's pretty sure he knows exactly how to fix them. But out of habit he glances at the phone, just to see who he's ignoring.
One look and he almost drops his computer in the scramble for the phone. Six months ago he'd thought that number would never call him.
"Oh my god, Sarah," he whispers. His office doors are closed but if Sarah can call him all of a sudden, people might be able to hear through walls. "Is this for real? Because it could just be a really good dream and I guess that's okay, but --"
"My assignment's over." The sentence is so clipped and direct that for a minute he's not sure it's really Sarah. "Listen Chuck, I'm in a car so I can't talk for long. Do you have plans for this weekend?"
"I'm visiting Ellie and Awesome for our Mother's Day in October. But if you want I can try and cancel."
"No," she says, and dammit he's smiling like the biggest nerd but it's Sarah. "But do you think I could crash Mother's Day?"
"I think Ellie would even reschedule the holiday in your honor if it meant you could stop by." With his free hand he pinches himself, just in case this is a dream.
"Then I'll see you on Saturday. I'm really sorry Chuck, but I have to go."
The call ends before he can say goodbye. She's probably worried about her call being traced. He holds the silent phone against his ear.
If it really was Sarah -- and please, please let it have been Sarah -- he's going to see her in two days. Never since high school has Chuck Bartowski been so excited for the weekend.
In the meantime, though, there are still a few bugs to fix.
The courtyard for Ellie and Awesome's apartment building makes Sarah lose her breath for a minute. The last time she was here in a wrinkled bridesmaid's dress and day-old mascara under her eyes. Now, six months later, she stands in front of that beautiful beautiful fountain, feeling some of the tension melt from her shoulders. She can't relax entirely.
Chuck answers the door before she can knock, that dorky grin lighting up his face. Before either of them can say anything, he wraps her in the tightest hug, like he's not quite sure she's real. It doesn't even matter that she cant breathe, or that her face is mashed up against his sweater. This is why she drove across the country. She can feel his heart beat, even. This is why.
"Oh my god, Sarah, is it really you?" He runs the words into her hair. "Please tell me this isn't a dream, or I swear I'm going to kill my subconscious."
She pulls away, just enough to see his face, the wide brown eyes and curly hair, still the same Chuck she's pictured in her head, letter after letter. It's so easy to smile.
"It's really me," she says, rubbing her hands against his back. God, she's missed this. "I'm really here, and I think it's really Mother's Day. I have some flowers for Ellie in my trunk. Do you want to come with me and grab them?"
It's so easy to keep her voice light, to slip her hand into his, just like a real girlfriend. This is what she wanted. What she wants.
"Okay, I have to ask," Chuck whispers when they've almost made it to the parking lot, "How are you even here? Why did Beckman let you leave?"
"The Intersect project is over," she whispers back. "And I'm --"
"Sarah!" Ellie's voice cuts her off, and soon Sarah's wrapped in two sets of arms.
"When did you get in?" Ellie adjusts the bags of groceries in her arms. "Devon and I were just picking up some food, we didn't know when you'd be getting here. How have you been?"
"I'm really relieved to be here. It was a long drive. I have flowers for you in my trunk!" She walks towards her car, dodging the question.
"That's really awesome of you, Sarah," Devon calls after her. "Chuck should make you visit more often."
She pulls the bunch of lilies from the trunk and slams it shut before anybody can see the suitcases piled up inside. Ellie thinks this is just a weekend visit. And she's barely told Chuck anything yet.
"We've really missed you Sarah," Ellie says when they're all walking back to the apartment, cradling the flowers in the crook off her elbow. "Is your dad doing okay?"
"Oh, well," Sarah frowns, taking Chuck's hand and looking down at the asphalt, "I didn't know how to say it over the phone. My dad died last month."
She can feel them staring at her, even Chuck. She squeezes his hand. One more cover, but it's mostly done. It's not like her dad will stop by any time soon. She keeps her eyes down.
"I wish you'd told us," Ellie says. "We would've come to the funeral."
"Yeah, it's a real bummer, Sarah," Devon echoes.
"Actually," Sarah invents, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "There wasn't a funeral. He was a really private man. He asked me to spread his ashes under the cherry trees, and that was all."
She can feel Chuck's arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He's so used to covering for her. They're back in the apartment courtyard.
"It's all right," she continues. "He was in so much pain, you know? But I don't want to be a downer. Isn't it Mother's Day?" She punctuates the sentence with a smile.
Ellie smiles back. "Yeah, it is. I was so thrilled when Chuck told me you were coming! We've really missed you."
It occurs to her, stepping inside their apartment, just how much she's missed Ellie. She hasn't even seen the wedding pictures, which crowd the coffee table, and every other available flat space. Her own smiling face greets her, and for a second Sarah thinks she should never have come back here.
"Hey sis, is it cool if me and Sarah talk for a while? Or do you want us to help you with dinner?" Chuck's arm is still around her waist and she can't help but lean closer towards him.
She can see Ellie raise her eyebrows at Devon and feels herself start to blush. A year ago she'd have been telling Chuck about their latest mission, but now who knows? She does need to talk to him.
"Oh, all right. You know how you are in the kitchen, Chuck."
He keeps his arm around her waist all the way to his bedroom. It's almost the same as it was six months ago, just cleaner.
"Your apartment in Seattle must be --"
But Chuck pulls her towards him and kisses her before she can finish the question. God, she's imagined this so many times, the texture of his lips, the way his tongue feels against hers. Her hands are up his shirt and his skin is so warm and this is what she missed. Somehow she gets it again.
He steps away from her, hands cupping her shoulders.
"You said the Intersect project was over, Sarah. Why aren't you halfway to Sumatra or wherever on a new mission? How did you leave?"
It's impossible to tell him when he's grinning that amazing dorky grin at her, like he's still not sure she's real. Can't they have this just a little longer?
"There could be bugs here," she says, voice ragged. "I can tell you when we're back in Seattle. Please, Chuck, it's important that you don't ask."
She can feel the old veneer slipping back into place, Sarah Walker, the CIA agent with a heart of steel and diamonds. There's no escaping that life, no matter how many miles.
But when she looks up at him, Chuck's somehow still smiling his goofy grin and she feels herself melting.
"I guess I can wait," he says. "But seriously Sarah, Awesome and Ellie really do think we're, you know, getting it on in here, and I was thinking, maybe they could be right? Just for once?" His hands slide down her arms and she can't hold back a shiver. His fingers close around her wrists. She looks at them until she realizes she's staring.
"It's called a rescue grip," Chuck explains, tapping his fingers against her skin. "Morgan decided we should be Boy Scouts in the fourth grade. I guess he thought there would be fires and explosions every week. Anyway, it's pretty much the only thing I learned."
"A rescue grip," she echoes, angling her hands to hold his wrists. He always said he wasn't the kind of guy who'd save the world. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him.
When did she start wanting somebody to rescue her?
Chuck slips his hands up her sweater, fingers warm against the skin of her back, and it's so easy to forget.
[1/3]
agent walker has an assignment, mr. bartowski. life post-intersect. chuck/sarah, pg-13, 4775 words. spoilers and au for chuck vs. the ring.
Is it easier for lovers?
Oh, they use each other to hide themselves from their fate.
-- Rilke, The First Duino Elegy
Sarah's fingers brush lazily against flannel sheets. The motion jolts her into consciousness. The sheets at her hotel are crisper. She opens her eyes, blinking as a familiar bedroom fills her vision. The Tron poster -- Chuck's bedroom. She turns her head and there he is, sleeping just next to her, his arms around her waist. She almost kisses him but then stops herself. She just looks at him, instead.
This is what she left the new Intersect project for. The CIA in exchange for this bedroom. In exchange for Chuck, his chest rising and falling against her shoulder blades. She turns to face him.
The movement wakes Chuck. For a second he groans, then rubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands, his elbow hitting her cheek. Sarah feels him flinch against her.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Sarah! You okay?" He cups her cheek with his hand. "I completely forgot -- I mean, I guess I just never thought, I mean --"
She presses her hand over his.
"It's okay, Chuck. I can take a lot." She doesn't realize she's smiling until he smiles back at her.
"Really? Do you think you could take this?" He leans forward and kisses her. "Or this?" He plants a kiss on the dip of her neck. She grins at him.
"I can take it." She wrinkles her nose at him, still smiling. "In fact..."
She pulls him towards her and kisses him on the mouth. His tongue runs along her teeth and she almost starts to laugh. This was why she stayed in Burbank.
"What else can you take?" Chuck asks, waggling his eyebrows. "This is an extremely important mission, Sarah Walker."
"Oh, I understand," she says, widening her eyes to keep from laughing. "I'll do my best."
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Chuck murmurs against her lips, brushing the hair off of her face.
"Chuck --" she starts to say, but there's the sound of the front door opening, and footsteps in the hall. Nobody else is supposed to be home: Awesome and Ellie should be in Fiji by now and they'd made up a bed for Mr. Bartowski at Castle. And these footsteps are different from Mr. Bartowski's slightly shuffling walk. They have authority.
She recognizes them too well.
On reflex, she grabs Chuck's hand.
The door bursts open and maybe General Beckman is tiny, but Sarah never realized how imposing she'd look against the walls of this particular bedroom.
"Sarah?" Chuck whispers between clenched teeth, "Please.... please tell me you didn't invite Beckman."
"Agent Walker has an assignment, Mr. Bartowski. When she didn't leave with Agent Larkin I knew I would have to personally extract her. The Intersect project needs you, Agent Walker." Beckman doesn't even bother to look apologetic. "I believe you turned down a spot on the team, Mr. Bartowski?"
She can feel Chuck nod and all she can do is press her fingers tight, tighter against the back of his hand.
"Agent Walker, I'll meet you outside in ten minutes. Your things are being transferred to Langley. Goodbye, Mr. Bartowski." She turns and walks out of the apartment, her footsteps echoing.
As soon as the door closes behind Beckman, Sarah feels Chuck's lips on her earlobe, running down her neck. For a minute -- just a minute -- she can relax against him, his arms around her and his lips tracing the curve of her shoulder.
"I don't have a choice, Chuck." The words are muffled against his skin. "But you need to know that if I did, if I could walk away without being dragged back, I'd stay here. If I could choose."
He squeezes her hand and she can feel the pressure of each fingernail against her hand, five little marks that might stay after she walks out the door.
"You have nine minutes," he says, glancing at the clock. She wishes there was a way to save the look on his face, the dorky smile he somehow manages to give her. "I'm not going to see you again, am I?"
She runs her foot down the line of his calf.
"I don't know what surveillance will be like for the project. But if I can come back, Chuck --"
He kisses her mid-sentence.
"Don't," he says when he pulls away, "I know."
He kisses her again, running a hand through her hair. She tries to focus on everything, the texture of his mouth on hers, the flannel sheets against her legs, Chuck's fingernails against the back of her hand, even his morning breath. She kisses him until she's dizzy from no air, and when they pull away they're both gasping.
He glances at his nightstand, the numbers on the alarm clock.
"You've got five minutes, Sarah. And I don't think Beckman'd be too shy to pull you out of here naked." She forces herself to smile at him, like she's going to stay in Burbank forever.
Maybe Chuck turned up the air conditioning last night, but the air is freezing on her skin when she makes herself get out of his bed. She has to clench her jaw to keep from shivering. Her last five minutes in this room. What's the use of lying to herself?
The dark blue bridesmaid's dress is lying like a puddle of satin on the floor. She pulls it on, wrinkles and all.
Chuck catches her eye and grins.
"You look amazing."
"You're not too bad yourself." She leans over him and kisses him, tangling her fingers in his hair. His lips are a little chapped. Dammit, they can make her leave him but she's going to remember it all, every single detail. The comic books, the posters, the computer. The way his fingers feel against her cheek.
There's a knock on the door.
"I don't want to leave," she whispers against his lips. "And if I can --"
"I know." He pulls her into one last kiss. She can see the effort he's making to keep the smile on his face. "Go save the world."
It's all she can do to smile back at him, and anyway what would she say?
The humid Los Angeles air hits her like a slap and General Beckman doesn't smile.
Once, Sarah tells herself, this was the life she chose.
"Chuck, I know you're in love with this new job at Apple and everything," Ellie says, her frustration audible even over the phone. "But don't you think you could spare ten minutes to tell your big sister about it?"
Chuck taps his fingers against the phone pressed to his ear.
"They're having me develop this new operating system, Ellie, it's really awesome. I actually think Awesome would agree on this one. And I've been staying late to work more on it. It's that cool."
"So now that you're a big shot you don't have time to call home?" He can tell Ellie's smiling, though. She'd jumped up and down and hugged him when he'd told her about the move to Seattle. "Dad called yesterday, by the way. He was asking for you. Didn't you tell him about the new job?"
"Yeah. Maybe he didn't realize I'd moved?" He can feel his forehead wrinkling. It's easier over the phone, but he's still terrible at lying. Dad's been in hiding since Ellie's wedding and his calls always come from random pay phones. And Chuck did talk to him last night, so he was probably fishing for something to talk about with Ellie. "He was really excited about the Apple gig. I guess anything's better than working for Roark, right?"
"So he hasn't asked you to sabotage your new career?"
"Nope," Chuck says. He still can't tell Ellie about who Ted Roark really was and that still bothers him. But one of the perks of life post-Intersect is being able to tell his sister the truth. Most of the time.
"Hey, have you heard from Sarah at all?" He can tell this is the question she's been wanting to ask. "I know, I'm totally going into big sister mode, I just miss you guys. Even Morgan's in Hawaii, for god's sake."
"Well, she's been busy taking care of her dad. I think she's going to try and find a job in DC so she can be with him. We get to talk, though."
He keeps his fingers crossed that Ellie won't ask anything else. He'd had to make up a story after she and Awesome had come back from their honeymoon to no Sarah. And somehow he just couldn't tell the easiest lie and say they'd broken up.
"Well, tell her I miss her, okay?" Chuck can hear Awesome's voice in the background. "But I've got to run. Devon's taking me out to dinner! He says hi, by the way. I love you, little brother."
"Love you too!"
Without Ellie's voice, the apartment seems weirdly empty. It doesn't help that he barely has anything in said apartment. He's been here three months but he can't quite motivate himself to decorate. And Ellie confiscated his Tron poster. So mostly he works.
A week after Sarah left, he'd gotten a call from Apple inviting him to an interview based on a reccomendation from the CIA. He'd gotten hired on the spot -- which, as Awesome said later, was awesome -- and now he works on using encoded images for data storage on an up and coming Mac operating system. Sometimes Chuck appreciates the irony of the situation.
The people at work are great, definitely there's no Emmet or Jeff or Lester, but Seattle is weirdly lonely without Morgan and Ellie and Awesome. Even without Casey. And without Sarah. When he goes out for drinks with his new work buddies, every blonde girl with her face turned away magically becomes Sarah until she turns her head and it's somebody else completely. Anyway it's a lot better than the Buy More, and nobody's hanging him out of windows or holding a gun to his head. Maybe it's just all the rain making him emo.
Because there was a letter in his box yesterday addressed to Charles Carmichael. He knew the handwriting on the envelope. It'd been on a grocery list with invisible ink. The return address was written out to Jenny Burton, with a PO Box in DC.
Inside was a string of numbers and at first Chuck had groaned. But it turned out to be the easiest cipher: the letters numerically arranged. It'd only taken him an hour or so to translate. Sarah wrote about her new DC apartment, that his new address was in the CIA database, and congratulations on the new job. That surveillance was tight on her new project -- she never mentioned the Intersect -- but she'd finally found a way to contact him. He could write to this address, she said, but to use at least this code.
And then at the end, a string of numbers:
18-5-13-5-13-2-5-18, 25-15-21 3-1-14 4-15 1-14-25-20-8-9-14. 9 13-9-19-19 25-15-21. 9 12-15-22-5 25-15-21.
He can't get them out of his head. Remember, you can do anything. I miss you. I love you. He kept the letter in his pocket all day today, running his thumb against the folded edges. Soon he's going to wear a hole in the paper.
But maybe it's not the biggest lie he's telling Ellie. Maybe Sarah can get out one day. If he can do anything, why can't she? Sarah's amazing.
At least he can write her a letter. With this cipher it can even be pretty long. It's almost like he's got a real long distance girlfriend... if they were all living a hundred years ago. But anyway it's something.
Dear Sarah, he starts. You ever seen the movie Sleepless In Seattle? Ellie made me watch it with her in high school. Anyway, lets spend more than five minutes on screen together, okay? I really hated that movie. But I like Seattle...
He already knows how he's going to end it. He tries to imagine her fingers holding the letter, her face while she reads. And maybe it's a hokey to end a letter with "I miss you. I love you." like he's Tom Hanks, but he can imagine her smile, finishing the letter. He's looked like a loser in front of her before. It's worth it.
Sometimes, when she has a few hours free, Sarah likes to go to places where she'll be completely anonymous. There's a Starbucks a block away from her apartment, and now she sits at a table there, sipping an iced latte. It's August but she's shivering in her tank top. She should've gotten something hot to drink. But it doesn't really matter. There's another letter from Chuck. She only trusts herself to read them in places like this, where she could be anybody at all.
Dear Sarah,
I keep forgetting to ask you, how's Bryce? Does he like his new assignment? I hope you two are having a good time saving the world. You must be doing a good job, because it definitely hasn't ended yet.
Morgan called me yesterday. He actually got a job as a Hibachi chef! Wow, right? He's my best friend and everything but I didn't think anybody would actually hire him... I guess the little bearded man turned out to be a natural once he figured out where to buy the knives. Anna told me that she says hi, by the way! And that she hopes your dad gets better soon.
Work is still awesome. I actually want to be there and, bonus, I wouldn't have to lie about it to look good on dates. You already know about the Buy More, though.
If you ever can, do you want to go backpacking in Europe? I know it's random. But I want to go and you could definitely be useful. If anyone tried to steal our Euros you could kick their asses. Don't worry if you can't go until we're old. You'll still kick ass.
Ellie and Awesome say hi. To be honest I think they miss you more than me. I don't blame them.
Say hi to Obama for me! But more importantly: I miss you. I love you.
Love,
Chuck
She's been trained to read ciphers much more complex than this. If anyone were to ask, she'd say she was programming a computer. Chuck gave her a few tips on how to sound legitimate. Although this is exactly why she's here with this letter. Nobody will ask why she's reading and re-reading a page full of numbers over iced coffee.
She curls a strand of hair around a finger absentmindedly as she re-reads the letter. It's like sunlight after days full of paperwork and studies on the new Intersect.
Bryce had told her that Orion changed the programming for the newest version, but the results have been irregular at best. Sometimes the flashes are clearer than Chuck's were, sometimes Bryce flashes on abilities he's never had, speaks languages he's never known. But those flashes don't last, In the middle of a test he'll forget kung fu entirely, or drop a gun, or switch between three languages in one sentence. And that's at the best of times. On occasion -- only twice in the past four months, but more than enough to scare them -- he'll babble government secrets like he's talking about a sale at the Buy More. It's like the new programming isn't meant for a human brain.
Or maybe it wasn't meant for Bryce's brain. Chuck never experienced anything lke this. Sarah's not sure anymore. The problems are so erratic. It's almost impossible to design tests anymore, let alone anyway to fix the problems. They were supposed to be in the field by now. Other agents were supposed to upload the Intersect, and they were supposed to be in the field by now. But with an asset so erratic, Sarah's stuck running diagnostic tests under maximum security. She's getting claustrophobic. And if the CIA's top team of analysts can't find a solution, she's starting to doubt one even exists.
General Beckman stopped by almost every day the first month of the project. This new Intersect made up for all of the trouble with Chuck, her eyes always lit up the minute she saw Bryce. But after weeks of no improvement she started coming every other day, then once a week. Sarah hasn't seen her at all in the past month.
So an hour at even the most generic coffee shop in the world is a luxury. With a page full of numbers. Especially that.
If I can come back, she'd told Chuck. And why can't she?
But give it a month or two, maybe three, and the CIA will put her in the field again. She doesn't think about what could happen to Bryce. Maybe they'll figure out a way to take the Intersect out of his head. They have to. She can't think about Bryce trapped in a cell underground for the rest of his life, all those secrets curled up inside his brain.
This is the time she has, not to think about it.
Dear Chuck, she writes, the numbers easy as letters.
Work is terrible right now. I can't really say anything about it, but I'm pretty jealous of you right now. I haven't wanted to stay late for weeks. But I guess that's why they call it work, right?
She looks up from the paper and feels herself sigh. All this small talk is ridiculous. It doesn't even sound like her. But what else can she say? Her letters could be intercepted so easily if someone wanted them. Even the hardest cipher can be cracked.
Tell Morgan I say congratulations. I hope he's not perving his customers, but I guess Anna will keep him in line. If he's in DC he'd better be ready to cook me something, although I doubt he'd want to leave Hawaii just to cook me dinner. You know, it's hard to believe the two of you worked at the Buy More just a few months ago.
I really doubt that Ellie and Devon miss me more than you, they just haven't heard from me. Are you visiting for Thanksgiving? It's three months away, but I made a turkey burger for lunch yesterday and it reminded me of Thanksgiving at your house. Nobody can make turkey like Ellie. Make sure you enjoy it extra for me. That's such a girlfriend thing to say, isn't it? Sorry, I don't know what else to write.
She sets her pen on the table and takes a sip of her latte, then another. She shouldn't be writing to Chuck like a real girlfriend, no matter how all of their letters end. What happens when he meets the girl he's supposed to fall in love with? But what is she supposed to write.
Once, maybe two years ago, Chuck asked her to tell him something real about herself. Can't she give him that now, just one little detail? There's a country between them and nobody cares what Jenny Burton has to say inside an envelope, except for him.
This is totally random, and I know never told you, but I went to Harvard. I guess I shouldn't have such a hard time figuring out what to say, right? I really went there, though, no lies. Is there a Harvard-Stanford rivalry? I forget. But I wanted you to know something true about me.
I hope we can go backpacking soon. Europe sounds amazing.
Bryce isn't as well as we'd hoped. I wish I could say more, but I really can't. If I could see you I would tell you about it. Just be glad it's not you.
I need to get back to work, Chuck, but remember: I miss you. I love you.
Love,
Sarah
She's got to report to Beckman in an hour. But first she has to mail the letter. If this is what she has, she has to make it count.
Maybe one of these days she'll get a chance to meet the President and tell him that Chuck says hi.
She takes one last sip of her latte and walks out into the DC streets. Once, she asked to save the world.
Chuck's at work, checking out the prototype to his new operating system, when his cell phone rings. He almost doesn't pick it up, he's noticed just a few bugs and he's pretty sure he knows exactly how to fix them. But out of habit he glances at the phone, just to see who he's ignoring.
One look and he almost drops his computer in the scramble for the phone. Six months ago he'd thought that number would never call him.
"Oh my god, Sarah," he whispers. His office doors are closed but if Sarah can call him all of a sudden, people might be able to hear through walls. "Is this for real? Because it could just be a really good dream and I guess that's okay, but --"
"My assignment's over." The sentence is so clipped and direct that for a minute he's not sure it's really Sarah. "Listen Chuck, I'm in a car so I can't talk for long. Do you have plans for this weekend?"
"I'm visiting Ellie and Awesome for our Mother's Day in October. But if you want I can try and cancel."
"No," she says, and dammit he's smiling like the biggest nerd but it's Sarah. "But do you think I could crash Mother's Day?"
"I think Ellie would even reschedule the holiday in your honor if it meant you could stop by." With his free hand he pinches himself, just in case this is a dream.
"Then I'll see you on Saturday. I'm really sorry Chuck, but I have to go."
The call ends before he can say goodbye. She's probably worried about her call being traced. He holds the silent phone against his ear.
If it really was Sarah -- and please, please let it have been Sarah -- he's going to see her in two days. Never since high school has Chuck Bartowski been so excited for the weekend.
In the meantime, though, there are still a few bugs to fix.
The courtyard for Ellie and Awesome's apartment building makes Sarah lose her breath for a minute. The last time she was here in a wrinkled bridesmaid's dress and day-old mascara under her eyes. Now, six months later, she stands in front of that beautiful beautiful fountain, feeling some of the tension melt from her shoulders. She can't relax entirely.
Chuck answers the door before she can knock, that dorky grin lighting up his face. Before either of them can say anything, he wraps her in the tightest hug, like he's not quite sure she's real. It doesn't even matter that she cant breathe, or that her face is mashed up against his sweater. This is why she drove across the country. She can feel his heart beat, even. This is why.
"Oh my god, Sarah, is it really you?" He runs the words into her hair. "Please tell me this isn't a dream, or I swear I'm going to kill my subconscious."
She pulls away, just enough to see his face, the wide brown eyes and curly hair, still the same Chuck she's pictured in her head, letter after letter. It's so easy to smile.
"It's really me," she says, rubbing her hands against his back. God, she's missed this. "I'm really here, and I think it's really Mother's Day. I have some flowers for Ellie in my trunk. Do you want to come with me and grab them?"
It's so easy to keep her voice light, to slip her hand into his, just like a real girlfriend. This is what she wanted. What she wants.
"Okay, I have to ask," Chuck whispers when they've almost made it to the parking lot, "How are you even here? Why did Beckman let you leave?"
"The Intersect project is over," she whispers back. "And I'm --"
"Sarah!" Ellie's voice cuts her off, and soon Sarah's wrapped in two sets of arms.
"When did you get in?" Ellie adjusts the bags of groceries in her arms. "Devon and I were just picking up some food, we didn't know when you'd be getting here. How have you been?"
"I'm really relieved to be here. It was a long drive. I have flowers for you in my trunk!" She walks towards her car, dodging the question.
"That's really awesome of you, Sarah," Devon calls after her. "Chuck should make you visit more often."
She pulls the bunch of lilies from the trunk and slams it shut before anybody can see the suitcases piled up inside. Ellie thinks this is just a weekend visit. And she's barely told Chuck anything yet.
"We've really missed you Sarah," Ellie says when they're all walking back to the apartment, cradling the flowers in the crook off her elbow. "Is your dad doing okay?"
"Oh, well," Sarah frowns, taking Chuck's hand and looking down at the asphalt, "I didn't know how to say it over the phone. My dad died last month."
She can feel them staring at her, even Chuck. She squeezes his hand. One more cover, but it's mostly done. It's not like her dad will stop by any time soon. She keeps her eyes down.
"I wish you'd told us," Ellie says. "We would've come to the funeral."
"Yeah, it's a real bummer, Sarah," Devon echoes.
"Actually," Sarah invents, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "There wasn't a funeral. He was a really private man. He asked me to spread his ashes under the cherry trees, and that was all."
She can feel Chuck's arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He's so used to covering for her. They're back in the apartment courtyard.
"It's all right," she continues. "He was in so much pain, you know? But I don't want to be a downer. Isn't it Mother's Day?" She punctuates the sentence with a smile.
Ellie smiles back. "Yeah, it is. I was so thrilled when Chuck told me you were coming! We've really missed you."
It occurs to her, stepping inside their apartment, just how much she's missed Ellie. She hasn't even seen the wedding pictures, which crowd the coffee table, and every other available flat space. Her own smiling face greets her, and for a second Sarah thinks she should never have come back here.
"Hey sis, is it cool if me and Sarah talk for a while? Or do you want us to help you with dinner?" Chuck's arm is still around her waist and she can't help but lean closer towards him.
She can see Ellie raise her eyebrows at Devon and feels herself start to blush. A year ago she'd have been telling Chuck about their latest mission, but now who knows? She does need to talk to him.
"Oh, all right. You know how you are in the kitchen, Chuck."
He keeps his arm around her waist all the way to his bedroom. It's almost the same as it was six months ago, just cleaner.
"Your apartment in Seattle must be --"
But Chuck pulls her towards him and kisses her before she can finish the question. God, she's imagined this so many times, the texture of his lips, the way his tongue feels against hers. Her hands are up his shirt and his skin is so warm and this is what she missed. Somehow she gets it again.
He steps away from her, hands cupping her shoulders.
"You said the Intersect project was over, Sarah. Why aren't you halfway to Sumatra or wherever on a new mission? How did you leave?"
It's impossible to tell him when he's grinning that amazing dorky grin at her, like he's still not sure she's real. Can't they have this just a little longer?
"There could be bugs here," she says, voice ragged. "I can tell you when we're back in Seattle. Please, Chuck, it's important that you don't ask."
She can feel the old veneer slipping back into place, Sarah Walker, the CIA agent with a heart of steel and diamonds. There's no escaping that life, no matter how many miles.
But when she looks up at him, Chuck's somehow still smiling his goofy grin and she feels herself melting.
"I guess I can wait," he says. "But seriously Sarah, Awesome and Ellie really do think we're, you know, getting it on in here, and I was thinking, maybe they could be right? Just for once?" His hands slide down her arms and she can't hold back a shiver. His fingers close around her wrists. She looks at them until she realizes she's staring.
"It's called a rescue grip," Chuck explains, tapping his fingers against her skin. "Morgan decided we should be Boy Scouts in the fourth grade. I guess he thought there would be fires and explosions every week. Anyway, it's pretty much the only thing I learned."
"A rescue grip," she echoes, angling her hands to hold his wrists. He always said he wasn't the kind of guy who'd save the world. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him.
When did she start wanting somebody to rescue her?
Chuck slips his hands up her sweater, fingers warm against the skin of her back, and it's so easy to forget.