Chapter 10: Epilogue

As of 02 Nov 2016, I don't own Chuck et al.

Sexual content warning.

Epilogue

And lo, it came to pass that Chuck stayed in the car.

The flight back to the world was as long and boring as the one coming here, that now felt like an age ago. Going back to work at the Buy More was the means of bringing the whole Afghan mission to an end with a solid thud. The customers were their usual idiot selves and Jeff and Lester had now seemed to have formed a musical duo, if one allowed a fair bit of stretching to the meaning of the word 'musical.' Hopefully, it would be an improvement on the not-so-subtle mammary cam efforts.

General Beckman didn't seem to feel that sending Chuck to a war zone and back was any big thing. As much as she was able to, the results Chuck had emailed back did seem to please her. Team Bartowski had only got involved with a handful of follow up missions related to the Afghan mission. It had been, after all, aimed at targets literally worldwide.

The first two missions, they didn't need Chuck, so he stayed home while Casey and Sarah suited up and went out. The first mission, as soon as he saw Casey back in his apartment, he called Sarah. She sounded tired, but also a little pleased that he'd called to see if she was alright. The second mission, she called him for a little more info during the operation, and she called him again after the mission. They talked all the time it took her to drive back to her hotel room.

The third mission, Chuck rode along, and when the usual, "Stay in the car, Chuck," was uttered, he did. He fidgeted a fair bit, and used his laptop to keep an eye on things, but he stayed. When they got back, both Casey and Sarah hesitated a moment and then returned to the van. Nothing was said about this aberration to the natural order of things.

Mission four went sideways about ten minutes in. When the troop of bad guys charged into the warehouse that Casey and Sarah were in, Chuck was half out of his seat at the monitoring bank in the back of the van before he made himself sit back down. He warned the pair of spies and then called for back-up. He waited twitching and fidgeting the whole time until they got there. It was close, but the cavalry made it just in time.

When Sarah saw he was still in the van, she gave him a heart stopping smile. Casey even uttered a very quiet pleased-ish sounding grunt.

-o0o-

Two weeks after calling for back-up, Sarah was over for a planned sleep over. The evening was uneventful. Ellie had made dinner, magnificent, as usual. After cleaning up, they watched the new Underworld movie, this one was about the wolves. Sarah snuggled up to Chuck on the couch, eventually falling asleep on his shoulder. When the credits rolled, Ellie and Awesome went to bed, tossing the remotes next to Chuck so he could change to regular TV without waking Sarah. Chuck realized that Sarah had woken up when they left. He knew they should move, but he was happy where he was. He suspected Sarah was too.

After a few minutes of him channel surfing in a futile attempt to find something not a reality TV show, she stirred and patted him on the thigh, saying quietly, "Come on. Any longer and Casey will start making notes. Let's go to bed."

He agreed, and got up, turning the TV off. As he put the remote on the coffee table, she held her hands out to him so he could help her up.

During the night, Chuck woke to find Sarah had adopted her regular position on his chest. He smiled a little into the dark, knowing that they both slept well this way.

When morning came, they'd separated during the night, and he woke up facing her. She was awake and had been watching him.

Again, Chuck's morning erection had escaped his boxers. He wasn't completely sure, but he was pretty damn sure that Sarah's hand was close to him, Chuck could feel the warmth near himself.

She spoke with a slight morning croakiness, "I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh, that's always fun," he replied with mild concern. Usually, that mean he had to do something outside his comfort zone. Even with a real, regular girlfriend, those words usually were a red flag.

"I think you deserve a night off. We've had a huge win against Fulcrum." He nodded, wondering where this was leading. "How about some time off, from under the cover?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he puzzled.

"Look, I come over, and we're under cover, right? How about next sleep over, you come to my hotel? No surveillance. You could bring a book and read, or something. I can do some paper work. You. And me, no fake relationship, no cover. Have the night off."

Then something astounding happened, she wrapped her hand lightly around his erection. She could feel his pulse. Her hand almost felt scalded.

Chuck's eyes widened, but no reaction that would show up on tape. Only dogs with very keen hearing could hear the sound that escaped his throat. After a moment, she moved her hand back to where it came from.

Sarah's mouth was suddenly dry. She tried to swallow, and continued, "We'll give our cover the night off. We can just be us. I mean, you can be just you. We'd still be on call, and I'd have to watch you….."

"That sounds good. Ellie loves having you over, but Devon's wondered why I don't stay the night with you."

"What kind of girl do think I am, Mr. Bartowski?" she asked managing to coquettishly dip a shoulder while still lying on her side.

"Amazing." He grinned back with honesty.

They got up and began the normal morning routine with his sister and near brother-in-law.

-o0o-

It was two weeks later when Chuck turned up at Sarah's hotel for the appointed sleep over.

The time since that morning had been absolute agony. He was sure Casey knew. Every time he spoke to Sarah, either in person or over the phone, she sounded different, distant and almost disinterested. He knew he was trying to be no different, and so he knew he was over compensating.

Chuck startled easily at almost any sound. Casey knew, Chuck was almost convinced of it. A couple of times in the Buy More, he'd encountered Casey and it seemed he had a murderous look on his face. Chuck sort of checked that Casey wasn't carrying a tranq gun, or worse.

For pretty much the whole two weeks, his heart was trying to escape through his throat, and his mouth was dry. When the time finally came, he was sure he was about to be captured and bunkerized. He'd brought a paperback with him as the cover. He was reading the book, Orbital Decay, recommended by his Aussie friend. He was three quarters through it, and knew he would have to re-read it. For some reason, he wasn't able to focus on anything for the fast few days.

Ellie had also made sure he brought a bottle of wine, which he carried in one hand, his overnight bag in the other.

He stood at her door, sure she could hear his heart beat through the door. He tried to knock the door, but his hand moved like it was in molasses. When Sarah did let him to her room, they stood awkwardly at the door way for several heartbeats. Chuck left his backpack on the little room divider, the one he once stood at and asked her her middle name, half raising the wine bottle as a greeting.

He opened his mouth to say he'd brought wine, which even as he opened his mouth he knew was redundant since she could obviously see the bottle. When he tried to speak, he was only able to croak like that scene in Stardust, where the Ricky Gervais character had been cursed by Michelle Pfeiffer's character.

Sarah stood facing him, and tried to talk, but there was no sound either. Chuck realised that she was probably as scared as he was. Sarah Walker, scared. He wondered if he could do anything.

And then she launched herself at him.

-o0o-

Chuck messed it up, there was nothing soft to land on, but neither of them noticed for some time.

-o0o-

About three weeks later, Goodsir was back in the base, and went to the boozer with his laptop. He'd re-joined his unit, and was placed back into his section as if nothing had happened. They went back to same check point and protected the world from radicalised goats.

He worked through his back log of emails while playing music and sipping a thoughtful beer or three. He found Chuck's message buried about one third of the way down amongst a bunch of bumf spam. He grinned like a thief for the rest of the night.

The message had no subject matter, but it was from the John Smith account he'd been given. It contained a single line.

"You were right. It was epic. Still is."

-o0o-

Casey closed his laptop. His report that the asset was now spending time on the week ends with Walker was technically accurate. Directors Graham and Beckman both felt that giving the asset an environment where he didn't need to lie to his family had seen an improvement in the attitude of the asset. Initially, they'd been conserned that Agent Walker had seemed to be a little tired because of the extra duties, but things were working out. The results spoke for themselves.

Casey sipped his scotch, and held his glass out in a silent salute, muttering, "About damn time, Walker. Just don't stuff this up, the pair of you."

-o0o-

Author's Note, 06 Nov 2010.

I used to be happy with my description of, "nothing soft to land on." Eloquent, I thought.

Well, a real professional author, Lexie Dunne, aka Frea O'Scanlin, aka Moonlight Pilot, wrote a magnificent bank-job fic called 'Walker's Eleven.'

Chapter twenty is the meat-and-potatoes. 'A study in physics and catastrophe,' is an epic understatement. Chapter twenty shows you what happens when there is, 'nothing soft to land on.'

Read it.