A year or so ago, BillAtWork and I were having a discussion on the forum about how Season Two should end. This was well in advance of the actual season ending, so none of us had any idea what would actually transpire. I suggested that they should separate Sarah and Chuck, but considering the doubts everyone had about there even being a S3, Bill thought it would be cruel.  As a response, I wrote this to show how a separation could be angsty and sweet but hopeful and uplifting all at the same time.

Since all of you reading this (all one or two of you) don’t have the context of that discussion, I’ve edited it slightly from its original form to remove ambiguity about the other passenger’s identity and smoothed out a couple of phrases to make them, er, ‘better’.

Rated ‘GS’ for ‘Generally Sappy’.  😉

Sarah exited the car the moment it stopped moving, leaving the door open.  Jill, ever-aware of the NSA chaperone watching vigilantly from the front seat, remained inside, checking her watch.  Sarah stepped up to Chuck, who was standing at the curb, reached out and took both of his hands in hers.  Then she looked up into his eyes.

[cue piano music]
“Sarah, I …” Chuck started, but Sarah put her finger to his lips to hush him.  Her eyes, already glassy with tears, searched his face, memorizing every detail.  Finally, she returned his stare and put on her best fake smile.

“It’s okay, Chuck. It’s all going to be okay. You’ll see.”  She sniffled once, but her eyes did not leave his.

“I.. you can’t go.. now. Not now.”  His voice rose precipitously on the last word.

She knew he meant she couldn’t go after what she’d said in the courtyard.  After she’d finally spoken those words she’d never been able to say, much to her surprise.  Wait, don’t lose focus, Walker, there’s still something important you have to do.

“Chuck, I have to.”  She let her smile fade, replacing it with an expression of calm understanding.  “The opportunity is … it can’t be passed up.  This could be the mission that unravels Fulcrum completely.”  She tried to smile again, but had to let her eyes drop under the weight of his stare.  Taking a deep breath she steadied herself and looked back up at him, her willpower wavering.

“But, Sarah, I could help with that. Maybe I could flash and –”

“No–”  she interrupted, a bit too sharply.  Sarah caught his hurt look and softened her features.  “You can’t.  I can’t do this mission and also protect you from…”  Her eyes glanced downward and away, betraying her lingering distrust for the car’s other passenger.  She grimaced.  “You just can’t,” she said finally.

Chuck stared at her, his distress showing clearly on his face.  When his Adam’s Apple bobbed and he swallowed, Sarah knew a question was coming, and she could guess what it was likely to be.

“Are you coming back?” he blurted out.  His brow was furrowed and he wore an expression that expected the worst – was bracing for the worst.  She squeezed both of his hands, then raised up on her toes for a tender kiss.

Behind her, Jill averted her eyes with obvious distaste.

Sarah pulled back and lowered her voice so only he could hear it.  “I need you to do one more thing for me,” she said, her eyes twinkling, prodding him to remember.

His initial, puzzled expression bloomed into a smile as the echo of her words on a breezy Santa Monica beach flooded his mind.  “I trust you.”

“Then trust me now,” she said, fixing Chuck in place with a steady stare as she drifted back towards the car.

Sarah kept her eyes on his for as long as she could.  Even as the car pulled away.  Even when all she could see was the tiny white dot of his shirt in the distance.

Chuck stood unmoving, transfixed by the small brown dot he thought he could still see.  At some point, he couldn’t convince himself anymore.

She was gone.

After a few uneven breaths, he unclenched his right fist and pulled out the small piece of paper she’d put there.  He unfolded it carefully and read the message scrawled in red ink, his despair evaporating in a rush of warmth to his heart and a secret smile on his lips.  Behind him, he heard someone moving close, then stop.

“We should probably get back,” Casey said softly, “Beckman wants a status report on how this went and I’ll need to figure out what lies I’m going to tell to cover for what you and Walker just did.”

Chuck laughed.  “Nothing gets past you, does it Casey?”

The older agent grunted, the tone giving away his puzzlement over Chuck’s buoyant mood.  “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

Chuck smiled, trying to keep the inner joy his alone for just a few more seconds.  But when Casey shifted his weight to his other foot, he sighed and turned to him.  “We need to get packed. We should leave tonight if at all possible.”

“Huh? Where?” Casey asked. Chuck handed him the slip of paper.  It read:

Birger Jarl Hotel – Stockholm Wed – Fri. Lv Msg for Sarah Carmichael on arrival.

Sorry for the theatrics.  Jill can’t know.

Stay away from her!  Please.

ILY – S.

“Damn.” Casey swore under his breath.

“What?” Chuck turned, expecting a dig for Sarah’s signature line.

“I was hoping for some place tropical.”

[ Music Swells ]



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