AU novella. An advice columnist happens upon an arresting stranger, resulting in dangerous feelings, confusions, and errors. A romantic dramedy.

A/N1: The final chapter of this little tale.

Don't own Chuck.

Chuck vs. Mrs. Know-It-All

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lester shut off the tracker. He put Jeff's binoculars against his face, looking at the Motel Six and its surroundings.

One tactic would be to get inside - but that would also mean that he and Jeff would be pitted against Walker, Bartowski and the redhead. Those odds weren't good: three against two. Lester looked at Jeff..against one-and-a-half...against one.

Yes, a direct attack was a bad idea.

The rifle was better, if Lester could just figure out where to set it up, out of sight. He lowered the binoculars. They were in the parking lot of a big box store, a Buy More. It would be a long shot, literally, but if he and Jeff could get on top of the Buy More undetected, Lester could take the shot from there. He had been practicing with the rifle for a while on the weekends when Jeff visited his mother at the State Pen. Guns made Jeff nervous, as recent events had shown.

Lester was able to make the shot; he believed it. The question was whether Bartowski was in a room whose window faced the Buy More. It looked like half the rooms faced the Buy More and the other half faced away, were on the other side of the Motel Six. Lester needed to know or figure out Bartowski's room number and locate his room. If his room were on the other side, the hope of using the rifle would be dashed - there was no possible hidden vantage point on that side.

They could try to get on the Buy More roof and then use the scope to find Bartowski, if his room was on the right side of the Motel, but that would be a waste of effort if it was not. No, the best plan was to find the room number if possible, then to get on top of the Buy More if a shot was possible. Of course, there was another obvious problem. Even if Bartowski was in a room facing the right way, if Bartowski closed his curtains he would effectively blind Lester's rifle. That was a risk Lester could not see how to avoid.

As he examined the Motel more carefully through the binoculars, a head of blond hair beneath a baseball cap rose into view, not at the Motel, but nearby. For a second, Lester thought it was Walker, and then he knew it was not. The woman carried herself somewhat as Walker did - grace and coiled power on her walk - but the set of her shoulders was different and the nature of her stride different. Lester flashed on Arnold Schwarzenegger, The Terminator. That was it: a hardness, a machined 'whirr' to her movements, not quite or not fully human. She was studying the Motel as she walked toward the dumpster.

Lester lowered the binoculars. He had a sudden conviction that there was another piece on the board, another powerful piece. Complications, always complications.

xXx

Forrest got out of her car and walked toward the edge of the parking lot. She had a couple of empty styrofoam cups in one hand, and she aimed the dumpster on the edge of the parking lot. She was studying the distance between her parking lot and the Motel Six, and hoping to perhaps get a glimpse of Bartowski in a window.

She got to the dumpster without catching sight of Bartowski, but she did have a better sense of the distance from her car to the Motel and of the patch of uneven, grassy ground between the two parking lots. She threw the cups in the dumpster and walked back. If Walker did what she should have done, she took Bartowski to high ground in the Motel, to the second floor. Since Miller was with her, that presented a new tactical challenge.

Given the hand-holding Forrest witnessed, Walker was almost certain to be wherever Bartowski was. But Miller might be anywhere. Of course, there would be both an elevator and stairs, and if Miller were standing watch, she would have a hard time guarding each ingress. To station herself between them was to yield each halfway. But to station herself on one would be the yield the other completely.

As far as Forrest knew, the only threats that Walker and Miller knew to worry about might come in the form of Volkoff's men, perhaps eventually sent to finish Walker's unfinished work. And, knowing Walker, she would expect Volkoff to give her time to plan. So, even though Walker and Miller were obviously wary, they had no reason to expect Forrest - or any other immediate threat. That was her big advantage. The question was how to use it. She laughed to herself. It's fun to be Mrs. Know-It-All myself, while my targets are ignorant.

She got back in her car. She thought she caught a movement behind her, and she glanced into her rearview mirror. She saw various cars and trucks, an old van with a dented-looking top. But nothing noteworthy. She went back to studying her problem.

xXx

Carina parted with Sarah and Chuck in the hallway. Sarah knew they were all tired and emotionally drained. She certainly was almost too tired to feel the happiness she felt. Almost. Even as tired as she was, she could not keep the smile off her face.

Carina waved to them and ducked through her door quickly, leaving Chuck and Sarah standing outside theirs. Sarah had the keycard in her hand. Chuck sidestepped out of the way so that she could unlock the door and lead them inside.

The room contained nothing surprising. A desk, a tv, an uncomfortable-looking armchair, and a large bed. There was a small refrigerator and a small in-room coffee maker. The bathroom fixtures were old and plain, but clean. Since neither Sarah nor Chuck had any luggage to situate, they just stood there for a moment, side by side, both failing to avoid staring at the queen-sized elephant in the room.

Sarah felt almost bashful and unsure of herself. Desire and exhaustion were both tugging at her. She could tell that Chuck felt the same. He put his hand on her shoulder carefully and looked at her. "Why don't you take the bathroom first? I'm guessing we will both feel better after a shower. I saw a laundry room down the hall. I have some quarters and…"

"No, Chuck. Do not go anywhere without me, ever. If I take a shower, you stay in the room. Is that clear?" She did not mean to issue an order, but the thought of him unprotected terrified her. She did not know if they were in immediate danger or not, but she was going to assume it until proven otherwise. She reached for his hand and pulled it to her face. She kissed his palm and then the inside of his wrist, and added, softening her tone. "I'm sorry, Chuck, but I just...I just found you. I can't lose you. Do you understand?"

"I do, Sarah. I feel the same way, so please, if something happens, don't do anything that would make me lose you. Do you understand?"

"I do, Chuck. And, thanks, I will take that shower now, I think." She squeezed his hand and went into the bathroom. She closed the door and started to undress. She turned on the water and stepped in. She felt better immediately, and she smiled as she put her head beneath the water.

xXx

Chuck heard the shower start. He took off his shoulder bag. He sat down at the desk. For a moment he simply sat still, breathing. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the water. After a moment, he opened his bag and took out his laptop. He called up his Mrs. Know-It-All email and started looking through the new letters. He skimmed along until his eyes snagged on one.

Dear Mrs. Know-It-All,

I met a man. We haven't been together for a long time but he is wonderful. When I am with him, I do not feel like I am merely the person I've been, or even that I'm the person I've been plus the person I currently am. I feel like I'm more, like I am moving, becoming the person I hoped to be, the person I never really thought I 'd be.

Does that mean I love him? I have the strongest feeling for him but we have not been together for a long time.

How does a person know she's in love? Is there a special tingle? Any observable physical change? (I blush a lot now.) Would a mood ring help? Tarot cards? An MRI? Is there a book I can read?

If anyone can answer my question, it is you, Mrs. Know-It-All. I am counting on you.

Unsure in Utica

Chuck finished the letter and laughed softly, shaking his head. The human condition. He realized the shower was off, and had been for a little while. He heard the bathroom door open and heard Sarah speak his name. The sound of her saying it made him ache. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring that ache, deep and sweet. He turned around in the desk chair.

Sarah was standing wrapped in a towel. Her hair, towel-dried and then combed, was still damp and darker than it was when it was dry. She gave him a languid smile, warm and full. She walked to him, bent down, and gave him a quick kiss, then she went back and stood beside the bed. She unwrapped herself and stood before him, looking at him.

Her gaze held no challenge, no smirk, no request for admiration - it was sheerly vulnerable and full of hope. "Take your shower, Chuck. I'll be waiting." She pulled down the bedclothes and slid into the bed, keeping that same gaze on him the whole time.

Chuck walked to her and bent down, giving her a quick kiss. She squirmed a little under the covers and smiled. They both sighed and laughed. He went into the bathroom and took his turn beneath the water.

xXx

A short while later, Chuck emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked to the bed. Sarah was there waiting, her eyes on him.

He considered her for a moment, then dropped his towel, stood for a moment as she had when she dropped hers, returning her look. He then slid beneath the covers beside her.

She scooched toward him, conformed her naked body to his. He moved his arm and she lifted her head, allowing him to take her even more into his embrace, her head cradled against his shoulder. She closed her eyes and gave a long, slow sigh, putting one leg over him.

"I called Carina while you were in the shower, Chuck. She says she can't sleep, after all, so she's taking the first shift, keeping watch. We can sleep if we want." She opened her eyes, waiting for a reaction.

Chuck's face did not register a reaction, but she moved her leg in response to a reaction registered elsewhere, and she gave him a small smile. "Too fast?" She asked, gently teasing, moving her leg against him subtly, so slowly. He trembled head to toe in response to her movements.

"I don't think serendipity has a schedule," Chuck whispered in a shaky voice just before Sarah covered his mouth with hers.

xXx

The afternoon passed slowly in the van, baking in the sunlight. Baking. Baked. Night was coming. The van was cooling.

Jeff and Lester had retreated to the rear of the van, both to escape the rays of the sun and to keep the woman still seated in the grey sedan from noticing them. It was stifling back there, the air thick and heavy, torturous. Jeff had made the atmosphere toxic: he had taken off his shoes and socks, and was now laboriously trying to trim his thick toenails with a penknife.

Lester watched it in repelled fascination, sure at any moment Jeff's hand would slip and he would lose a toe. Lester finally forced himself to look away.

Time was weighing on him. He needed to do something but he was worried about alerting the new woman to their presence. So far, she seemed so intent on what she was facing, the Motel Six, that she had hardly looked behind her.

Lester crept back to the front of the van and carefully raised his head until he could just peer over the dashboard. The woman picked that moment to get out of her car. She pulled her hat down and zipped the light jacket she had put on. She quickly walked across the parking lot, falling in with a group of women who were heading inside the motel.

Lester realized the women were maids; they all had on matching uniforms. They did not enter the Motel through the front doors, but used another entrance along the side of the building. The woman in the hat began talking with them, laughing, and she entered with them. She was inside! Lester did not expect her to make her attempt at Bartowski immediately. She would wait. It made more sense to do it after dark. Still, the woman now controlled the center of the board. Lester needed to tilt the board and hope the sliding pieces were rearranged to favor him.

He climbed into the passenger seat. "Start the van, Jeff." Jeff dropped his knife and scrambled forward to get into the driver's seat. Barefoot, he started the van.

"Where are we going, Lester?"

"Around the Buy More, to the back."

Jeff guided the gasping van around the building, to a much smaller rear lot. There was a loading bay there and - Lester closed his eyes when he saw it in thanks - a ladder that could be used to access the rooftop.

He was going to have to hope that Bartowski's room was on the right side of the building and that he left his windows open. He was not going to try to invade the Motel and face down three women and Mrs. Know-It-All. Better to hope for successful action at a distance. He believed it would work out, it would all work out. He was Lester, after all; he was destined for greater things. And Jeff, Jeff too.

xXx

Forrest found it easy to con the maids. She told them she was a guest and needed some extra shampoo and towels, and they did not question her. They let her into the employee locker room and from there to the storage room, and they dug out the soap and towels she asked for. She accepted them with a pretense of gratitude and left the maids there, stepping out into the hallway.

A maid's cart was standing there unattended, with a clipboard stationed on top of it. Forrest put down the towels on a stack of towels and dropped the soap in a box of soaps. She picked up the clipboard.

She scanned the list of guest names, not really interested in the names themselves but in the arrival times. She saw the right time - two rooms. Those were the rooms, she was sure. She flipped through the other pages on the clipboard and found one that had the room layout of the motel. The rooms were on the second floor, toward the front end of the building, slightly closer to the stairwell than the elevator. Forrest unclipped that page from the board, and stuffed the page in her jacket pocket. As she did, she noticed that there was a key card on the top of the cart. It had been hidden from view by the clipboard. Maybe a coincidence, maybe not. She palmed the card and hurried down the hallway.

She stopped at the door to a room beneath one of the two she took to contain Bartowski. She swiped the keycard, holding her breath. The small light on the handle went from red to green. Grinning, it's all working out, she stepped inside and closed the door, pushing the interior bolt against it.

The room was cleaned and ready for the next guest. Forrest stood still and looked at the ceiling. She listened closely. She thought could perhaps hear a faint, rhythmic sound. She smirked. Perhaps Mrs. Know-It-All was knowing the Ice Queen, melting her. Perhaps. That hand-holding meant something. How did Walker end up holding her target's hand - for real? The woman was supposed to be a killer. Walker certainly did not seem to be leading her sheep to the slaughter. My job.

Shaking her head, Forrest aimed a cruel smile toward the ceiling before pulling her pistol from the back waist of her pants and her silencer from a front pocket. She had extra magazines in her jacket pocket. It was nearly dark outside. She closed her curtains. Fondling her pistol, she settled in the armchair. She would wait for dark - easier to make her get-away - and then she would put a bullet in Bartowski.

One in Walker and one in Miller too - you, know, as a professional courtesy.

Forrest prided herself on completing her mission. Completely.

xXx

After waiting for it to grow dark, Lester and Jeff somehow managed to climb the ladder on the back of the Buy More, Lester ferrying the rifle case. Maybe Lester's strange gods were sheltering them. Maybe his star was rising. Maybe his higher destiny was finally about to arrive. Maybe. It did not really matter. He was on the roof. Jeff too.

This was going to work. It was.

xXx

Claudia sighed and glanced at the other side of the bed. Alexei was asleep, his sharp features relaxed, his salt-and-pepper hair messy. She looked at her apartment ceiling.

It had been wonderful. Alexei had said the words, told her he loved her. They had made heated love as the Chinese food got cold. Alexei was himself but different. Slower, more careful, even solicitous. He looked at her with wide eyes and caressed her with soft hands. The look she sometimes saw in his eyes, the look she always feared, the look of the hunter, never appeared. He alternated between being mellow and intense - but there was never a hint of roughness or of demand. She had no idea if the changes were permanent, but the changes were there, and she had never expected to see them. She reached out and smoothed his hair, her hand applying the barest pressure. "I love you, Alexei," she whispered.

xXx

Lester put out his hand and Jeff handed him the small, long box he had been carrying. Lester opened it. Night vision scope. Lester grinned to himself: Acme's finest. Ignoring Jeff's sigh, Lester began the assembly of the rifle, stand, scope, and silencer. He readied everything and then began slowly to scan the facing windows of the Motel Six.

xXx

Sarah shook Chuck's shoulder. "Chuck, Carina will be coming over in a minute. I still haven't heard anything from Volkoff. Time's getting short, though. We need to come up with a plan."

She watched as Chuck roused himself, trying to shake off the sleep. She had fought to wake up when the alarm on her phone went off, beeping softly, and she had fought harder to make herself break contact with Chuck to get out of bed. But she had done it. She called Carina even before she got dressed, then put her phone in her purse.

Carina reported that all was quiet. Sarah was hoping they could figure out a plan. She knew that Volkoff would begin to get antsy tonight and by tomorrow would begin to want answers about the hit. Her dad would not be in danger yet, but Volkoff would likely begin to threaten her about her dad tomorrow if nothing were done.

Chuck stood up and took Sarah in his arms. She hugged him back as hard as she could, trying to tell him what the afternoon had meant to her. Everything. There was a soft knock on the door. Sarah went to answer it. As she did, Chuck walked to the window, stretching on the way. He got to the window and stood there for a second, looking out at the dark parking lot, the city lights in the distance.

xXx

Lester had been working window-by-window with no luck. There were windows with the curtains open, but he had seen no one inside. There were windows with the curtains closed, and he had no idea what might be behind them. He was making a second pass, in reverse, along the second-floor windows, when suddenly Bartowski, greenish in the scope, was staring at him. Lester jumped and almost pulled the trigger and yanked his head back from the scope. Then he chided himself; Bartowski could not see him even though he could see Bartowski. Moron. He lowered his head to the scope again. Bartowski was gone. Shit.

xXx

Sarah grabbed Chuck and pulled him from the window. Carina shook her head.

Sarah's eyes were imperative. "Chuck, no, please don't do that. I don't know if we are in danger, but we should act as though we are. That's why Carina stayed awake. It's why we need a plan."

Chuck nodded, disconcerted. "Sorry, this is all new to me."

"I know, Chuck, it must all seem surreal. Bear with us. Bear with me. Until we get out of this. Then...you can do whatever you think is best." Sarah glanced away as she finished.

Chuck took her hand. "When this is done, Sarah, we will do whatever we think is best. I'm with you. I thought I made that clear." He glanced at the rumpled bed and she followed his glance.

She squeezed his hand. "Sorry, Chuck, this is all new to me."

He grinned at that. Carina groaned softly. "You two are killing me…"

A metallic whir and click.

The door to the room was pushed back. A blonde woman, about the same size as Sarah, stood in the doorway.

She had a silenced pistol in her hand.

She entered the room, her pistol trained on Chuck.

Everything shifted. Everything moved with exaggerated slowness. Someone turned the world's sound off, toyed with its color settings, and darkened its hue.

Chuck felt faint. Sarah stepped in front of him.

xXx

Forrest had decided it was time.

She decided to climb the stairs, and felt like luck was definitely on her side when she found the stairwell unguarded. She crept up the concrete stairs slowly, all eyes and ears and silenced pistol, poised for anything. Nothing happened. She got to the final few steps before the second-floor landing and she stopped. She held her place and held her breath. She heard a door close in the second-floor hallway. Then, she heard a faint knock. She sprang up the final steps to the landing. The fire door had a vertical pane of safety glass in it, heavy and latticed by wire. Despite its slightly distorting effect, Forrest saw Miller step through a door a few doors down the hallway.

Forrest reached into her jacket pocket and touched the skeleton key card. Assured it was there, she slowly rotated the fire door handle. It turned soundlessly. She pulled the door toward her, praying it would swing quietly. It did. She stalked into the hallway. Without pausing, she strode to the door Miller had entered. It was the room above the one Forrest had been hiding in on the first floor. She stopped. Listened. Three voices.

Gun up in her right hand, she slid the key card into place with the other. Red light. Green light. Palming the card, she turned the knob and pushed the door open hard.

Her gun was extended into the room immediately, leading the way. In front of it, in front of Forrest, stood Miller, Bartowski, and Walker. They were frozen.

Forrest pointed her pistol at Chuck's chest as she strode into the room. The door, bouncing back from the shove she had given it, closed behind her. Miller was closest to her, and Forrest shifted her focus to check on her for a splinter of a second.

Walker seized that shift in focus and stepped in between Forrest and Bartowski.

xXx

Claudia was standing in the kitchen in her short silken robe, pouring herself a drink. She had slept for a little while then got up, leaving Alexei in bed. She had turned on some music, low, and stood listening to it for a little while, swaying.

She was not sure what she had really gotten herself into - but she surely was into it. Alexei was Alexei. She did not know much about him in terms of detail, but she knew enough. He was a deadly man in a deadly business.

Even if he had changed, those around him had not. He might be able to step back from the life he had led and sink into the safety of obscurity, but there would always be the threat of the law and of old enemies. She understood all of that. Understanding that did not change the way she felt, did not stop her swaying.

Two arms slipped around her and she felt Alexei nuzzle her neck. She sighed and she turned to him.

She felt what she felt. Alexei was Alexei. She kissed him.

xXx

"Alexandra," Sarah said calmly once she was in front of Chuck.

"Bitch," Carina offered.

"Good to see you both too," Forrest returned, smirking. "And it looks like I am the one with her gun,"-she shifted her gaze to Bartowski, his head visible above Walker's-"right, Mrs. Know-It-All? No one here but all us girls and my gun…"

"Why are you here, Alexandra - I heard Graham sent you packing…" Sarah matched Forrest's smirking tone.

"Psycho bitch," Carina explained.

Sarah saw anger flash in Forrest's eyes. Sarah moved her hand slowly behind her and pushed softly against Chuck's leg. He seemed to understand after a moment and took a short step back, toward the window.

"You're one to talk, Miller. Only the DEA would have you. A real alphabet agency wouldn't touch your skinny ass."

"Everyone wants to touch my skinny ass, I'll have you know...Well, everyone except Chuckles here, who only has hands for one ass…"

Forrest wasn't listening to Miller. "And you, Walker, you were supposed to kill this...man?...Let's say 'man'. Have you gone soft? Volkoff was worried, so he hired a real professional."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "So that's your new gig, Alexandra. Hitman?"

"You can't tell me you are standing in judgment, Walker. What have you been doing lately?"

Sarah gave Forrest an icy grin. "It's complicated…"

Sarah pushed Chuck again gently, backward, closer to the window. It was not a great option but at the moment it was one - through the glass of the window and to the ground. They weren't that far up. Sarah also was trying to create more distance between herself and Carina, make it harder for Forrest to control them both at once.

"I bet it is. Doesn't matter. The best woman is going to win, and that would be me. Now, move, Walker. It's time for me to end it all for Mrs. Know-It-All, for all of you."

xXx

Lester had been keeping a bead on the window. His patience was rewarded. He saw Bartowski-or Bartowski's back. Greenish glow. Lester settled the crosshairs on Bartowski. He tried to calm himself, slow his breathing.

xXx

Alexei pulled back from the kiss after a moment and looked into Claudia's eyes. Her beautiful eyes. No one had ever looked at him like that before - expecting, at least hoping for, the best from him. He gave her a quick squeeze and went and located his pants on the bedroom floor.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and sent a series of texts to Walker.

Sent a second pro after MKIA. Should not have sent the first. Sorry. Be careful.

Contract now null and void. Consider the terms of our agreement satisfied.

I am freeing your father.

Have a good life, Agent Walker.

Volkoff wished he had some way of calling off Forrest. But he had no idea how to do that. At least he had reduced the odds against Mrs. Know-It-All, assuming that Walker or Forrest had not already killed her.

He called his team at the safe house, the ones who watched over Jack Burton, and instructed them to take Burton to his daughter's apartment.

xXx

Forrest waved her gun at Sarah menacingly. "Move it, Walker. Or I will just shoot you first."

From her purse, Sarah's phone beeped and kept beeping. For a moment, Forrest's concentration broke.

Carina whirled and landed a kick to Forrest's side, sending her sideways toward the bed. Sarah's phone continued to beep. Sarah turned and grabbed Chuck, knocking him to the floor. Forrest's pistol spit and plaster sprinkled on Sarah and Chuck from the bullet's burying itself in the wall.

Forrest landed on the bed and scrambled to her knees. But Carina tackled her there, and another shot went wild, hitting the armchair and sending tufts of foam into the air. Sarah reached out and pulled the armchair toward them, so that it proved some makeshift cover for Chuck.

She turned to Chuck. "Stay!" She jumped up and dove on the bed, where Carina was wrestling with Forrest, each trying to get control of Forrest's gun.

xXx

Chuck saw Sarah's purse next to the desk chair. He crawled for it and got there. He opened it and grabbed the silvery pistol. He had never held a gun in his life. He had read about them. He heard the sounds of the women wrestling on the bed. He found and released the gun's safety. He jumped up, the gun in his hand. "Don't move, woman, or I will shoot." He put his hand on the trigger. All three women stopped moving.

Forrest let go of her pistol. She put her hands up. Carina grabbed Forrest's gun and pointed it at her, her movement followed by a wince. "Ha!" Carina gloated. "Big bad-ass assassin finished by Mrs. Know-It-All. And your ass is big, Forrest."

xXx

Lester missed his chance again. But it would come back. He just had to wait. He was Job with a rifle, Jeff his comforter. Jeff sighed. He had been sighing regularly for the last couple of minutes. "Lester, man, let's not do this…"

xXx

Forrest put up her hands and backed off the bed and stood up. Chuck walked around the edge of the room, stopping in front of the window. The gun felt heavy in his hands, like it weighed a million pounds, a black hole in his fist. He was not going to let the woman hurt Sarah or Carina. But the gun was so heavy. He saw Forrest's eyes narrow in recognition. He knew what was coming.

xXx

Sarah saw it too, knew it. Forrest dove for Carina, for her pistol, her hands clawing at it savagely. She got lucky: Carina was in an awkward position on the bed, and groaned as Forrest contacted her. Forrest had thrown her body against Carina's outstretched arms. The gun fell from Carina's hands. Carina cried aloud and only then did Sarah remember that Carina had been off-duty because of her shoulder. Carina did not favor it, but Forrest's attack must have hurt it.

Sarah dove for the gun, but Forrest's momentum took her to it faster.

xXx

Chuck watched as Forrest grabbed the gun and turned to face him, rising to her knees on the bed, near the headboard.

"Get up, Walker. You too, Carina. Go stand over there. It's time to end this. I will let you both watch me kill Bartowski - that will be a special treat for Walker, I believe - and then I will kill both of you. Put the gun down, Mrs. Know-It-All. We both know you aren't going to shoot me." He was not, it was true. But maybe the moment when Forrest killed him would be the moment when Sarah could save Carina and herself. He could live with that. Black humor at the end.

xXx

Sarah saw Chuck's gun hand slowly fall. Forrest was right. Chuck could not pull the trigger. As bad as the situation was, Sarah was glad. Glad. She did not want Chuck to know any part of the world she had known, the world she was going to die in after all, although she had gotten almost to the exit.

Almost.

Sarah looked at Chuck as she backed off the foot of the bed, trying to tell him all that she could with her eyes - how good the last few days had been, despite the confusions, how much his reaction to her confession had meant to her, how precious their intimate afternoon together had been, how much she already felt for him and how much more she knew she would have come to feel.

'Love' was now one of her words: she thought it as she looked at him. She could take that word with her; it was so much more than she had expected to take with her. She was almost ready. She would spring on Forrest, on the gun. Maybe Volkoff would free her Dad, after it was all over, if Sarah was dead. But she had to save Chuck, even if it meant she died. She had to save him no matter what.

xXx

Lester tried to forget Jeff's sighing. But it was bothering him. Lamentations. The anticipatory regret he felt before had returned. Different rooftop, same feeling. Lester sighed, blowing out a breath as he looked through the scope. Jeff jerked, then lunged at Lester. "No, Lester, don't." He slammed into Lester and Lester yanked the trigger accidentally.

xXx

Chuck still held the gun up but Forrest knew it was an empty gesture now. Forrest waved him away from the window. She did not want her bullet to pass through him and shatter the window. No need for extra noise, extra mess, extra trouble. Chuck sidestepped and the window shattered. Forrest missed the sight and sound.

xXx

Sarah was ready to throw herself on Forrest's gun when the window shattered. A large hole appeared in Forrest's forehead and the hair on the back of her head blew up like she was standing in sudden gale. Her face went blank, and then a rivulet of blood ran down her forehead and along the bridge of her nose. Before it dripped off, Forrest fell limply and face-forward off the bed and onto the floor.

Sarah re-directed her spring, bounding to Chuck and tackling him to the floor. She waited for more shots. None came. Carina had dived to the opposite side of the bed, gasping in pain when she landed, and she called out: "What the hell is going on, Walker? Who else wants to kill your boy-toy?"

"I have no idea. Stay down."

"That's my plan."

They stayed on the floor, Sarah wrapped around Chuck, Carina on the other side of the bed, for five minutes, then ten. No more shots came.

xXx

"Damn it, Jeff! Look what you made me do." The rifle stand had snapped. Lester knew he had fired the rifle. He felt the recoil. He believed the shot had been fired harmlessly into the air above the Motel. "I wasn't going to do it, Jeff. You're right. This isn't the way to my...to our...destiny. We need to get out of here."

Lester hurriedly packed up the rifle, and broken bits of the stand, handing Jeff the night vision scope to put it back in the box. Lester zipped the case shut. "When we get home, Jeff, let's look at the Want-Ads. We need a new job, a new life."

They climbed down the ladder in the dark, Jeff first, Lester second.. No one stopped them; no one saw them. They got in the van and drove around the Buy More. When they got to the front, Jeff stopped the van, staring.

"What are you doing, Jeff? We need to get out of here."

Jeff pointed at the Buy More's front window, at something in it. It was a sign: Help Wanted. Lester grabbed a pen and a used napkin from the dashboard, and copied down the number.

Lester grinned at Jeff. Jeff grinned at Lester. Onward and upward.

Lester looked down and realized Jeff was still barefoot. Baby steps.

xXx

Sarah was still holding Chuck. Carina peeked up over the bed, looking out the shattered window and then over to Sarah and Chuck. She and Sarah made eye contact. Carina understood. She lowered her head and bear-crawled as best she could over to Sarah and Chuck. He was watching her approach.

"Shit, Sarah, it's like a joke: how many hitmen does it take to kill Mrs. Know-It-All?"

Sarah laughed and Chuck did too, although their laughter did not last long. Carina reached them as their looks became serious. Carina saw Sarah flick her glance to Forrest's body and Carina blinked in answer. "Sarah, take Chuck out of here." She got her key card from her back pocket, handing it to Sarah. "I'll see about things in here.

Sarah mouthed a thank you and she and Chuck crawled to the door and out into the hallway. Chuck grabbed Sarah's purse as they crawled past it. Sarah had taken her gun from him.

xXx

Carina waited a minute or two. Still no shots. She crawled to the window, her hands getting tiny cuts and splinters from the shards of glass, and she grabbed the curtain cord and closed the curtains. No shots. She stood up, her shoulder throbbing, and pressed against the wall next to the window. She looked at Forrest. There was a growing stain around her head on the carpet. Carina thought maybe she could contain it.

Carina stayed close to the wall, moving around the edge of the room, and then quickly stepped across the room to the bathroom. She took the empty trash bag out of the can and, getting down again on her hands and knees, she crawled over to the body.

Grimacing in pain, nauseated by the holes in Forrest's head, front and rear, she pulled Forrest's head up and slid the plastic bag over it. "Believe me, sister, right now you look better this way. And for the record, you were one psycho bitch."

Carina took a deep breath and stood up. There wasn't much more she could do. She was now almost certain that the shooter must have gone. She went back to the bathroom and washed her hands, rubbed her shoulder, rolling it back and forth.

She and Sarah and Chuck now needed an exit strategy.

xXx

In the hallway, Chuck and Sarah stood up and embraced. She kissed him quickly and then they ducked into Carina's room. Sarah put her gun in the back of her pants and held out her hand. Chuck handed her the purse. She opened it and grabbed her phone. She remembered that her phone had beeped, distracting Forrest. The text notification light on her phone was blinking slowly. She checked the text. It was from Volkoff. It was not what she expected. She read it twice. Then she handed the phone to Chuck. He read it twice.

"So, was the second one that woman," he gestured toward the room next door, "or was it the shooter?"

Sarah shook her head. She was not entirely sure she trusted Volkoff's text, but the very bizarreness of it seemed to testify to its trustworthiness. She decided to gamble on it.

She called Volkoff. He answered after one ring. "Agent Walker. I don't know that we have ever talked on the phone before. I trust this means you are safe?" Volkoff sounded like and unlike himself. Sarah was confused.

"I am. So is Mrs. Know-It-All. Alexandra Forrest is dead."

"Ah. Well, if I had a horse in that sweepstakes, it would have been you, Agent Walker. Forrest was a mere shadow of you. I am glad Mrs. Know-It-All is okay. I've been reading the column; I'm a big fan! Let her know." Sarah took the phone from her ear and looked at it, as if it were radioactive. She returned it to her ear.

"Did you send two other hitmen besides me?"

"Two? No. Just the one. Forrest."

"Well, I am not actually the one who killed Forrest. Someone shot her from a distance. Impressive shot. Marksman-like. We have no idea who. There was a van outside my place and outside Mrs. Know-It-All's place."

"A van, you say?" Volkoff sounded curious, almost amused. "That is...interesting. But no one else was there on my orders."

"Look, Volkoff, I need a favor. I'm at a hotel, in one room with Forrest's body in the next. It's a mess. The window of that room is shattered and there is other damage. Forrest got off a couple of shots. And, as I said, Forrest got shot. Is there any chance you could…"

"Clean things up? Where are you?"

"A Motel Six," she began and then told him the address.

"Oh," Volkoff commented, "I know the owner of that particular Motel Six. Just leave the rooms to me. I will send a team as soon as we finish our call. It will be my formal apology to you for...everything. Oh, and your father is now at your apartment, a free man."

"Apology is accepted. Thank you. Thank you for freeing Dad." She ended the call and looked at Chuck. "Okay, believe it or not, Volkoff's going to see about...the mess. Let's make sure we have everything and let's get the hell out of here."

xXx

Lester's phone rang. Volkoff. Lester gulped. "Yes, Mr. Volkoff, sir?"

"Lester, what have you and Jeff been doing tonight?"

"Oh, you know, sir, the usual. Driving around in Jeff's van…"

"You didn't by any chance take a shot at Mrs. Know-It-All?"

"No, no, sir. You said that was a job for a professional."

"Perhaps I was wrong. You are sure you didn't…"

"We didn't. But, um, since I - since we - have you on the phone, sir, Jeff and I….must regretfully...tender our resignations."

"Really?" Volkoff sounded mildly surprised.

"Yes, sir, we've decided that...laundry...isn't for us. We are thinking about new careers in electronics."

"Well...best of luck. I can mail your final checks."

"Yes, please, and thank you, sir."

Volkoff hung up.

Lester looked at Jeff and Jeff nodded. Then Jeff laughed and began to sing: "Nights in white satin, never reaching the end!" Lester shrugged and joined in. "Letters I've written, never meaning to send…"

Jeff stopped singing to listen. "Lester, you have the voice of an angel!"

xXx

Sarah, Chuck, and Carina left the hotel through a side door. Sarah and Chuck were holding hands and Carina was walking beside them, holding her sore shoulder. They got to the car and headed away. Sarah's phone rang. She answered.

It was Volkoff. "I discovered who the third assassin was. I did not send him...Them, actually. Anyway, Mrs. Know-It-All has nothing more to fear. This is done."

"Thank you, again, Volkoff."

"Well, Sarah, I don't know if we will ever talk again, but, please, call me 'Alexei'."

"Goodbye, Alexei." Ending the call, Sarah blew out a breath. She told Chuck and Carina what Volkoff said.

"Do you believe him, Sarah?" Carina asked from the back seat.

Sarah pursed her lips, thinking about Volkoff, the change in his tone, and his reading of Mrs. Know-It-All. Her Mrs. Know-It-All. "Yeah, Carina. I do."

Sarah reached over and took Chuck's hand. He gave her that smile, her smile. Hers.

That smile. That smile was her future.

Dear Unsure in Utica,

Knowing whether you are in love is a challenge. So is knowing whether you are loved.

You can't know you are in love as you know you are in pain, or have eaten your fill, or have poison ivy, or have a hairline fracture. Love is not a rash or a physically discoverable condition.

You know that you love when you pass the tests; you know that you love because of what you are willing to do or not to do, what you are willing to take on or give up. You know that you love because you change.

You know that you are loved in the same ways. Stop thinking of love as something hidden inside you, emotionally or physically. Think of it as visible in the weave of your life as it goes on, as a pattern that emerges.

Would you rather suffer than see him suffer? Would you die for him? Does his happiness itself make you happy? Ask yourself these questions. Don't sit around waiting for some peculiar feeling. Feelings matter, but they don't exhaust love.

That's the best I can do. It's all I have. Recent experience has taught me, Mrs. Know-It-All, some valuable lessons on this topic, revealed my ignorance. I now know how far I am from really being Mrs. Know-It-All. I hope this helps, maybe a little.

Wishing you luck,

Mrs. Know-It-All

The End

A/N2: My thanks to WvonB, Beckster1213, Chesterton, Let'sGoRed, and Fezzywhigg. If you liked this story, you should thank them.

My thanks too to all who wrote reviews or sent me PMs. I'll mention Feynman1968, TianC and Mojo1, asking them to stand for the rest.

I thought to post an epilogue, but now I don't know. I can live with the story ending here.