Title: We Don't Need The Reaper, We're Already Six Feet Under
Fandom: Chuck
Characters/Pairings: Sarah. Casey/Sarah, implied Chuck/Sarah.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,132
Author's Note: I've written some variation of this story at least ten times and then scrapped it. So...lucky number eleven? I don't even know.
Summary: There is a ring on her
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“I figured you’d request a new partner the minute the opportunity presented itself,” he remarks, some time later.
“It would’ve been more trouble than it’s worth.”
There’s a lie behind her smile.
She’s gotten attached.
Again.
-- Thought that was so beautiful! As was this:
He doesn’t ask and that’s why she tells him.
“I keep doing things for the wrong reasons. I need to figure out what the right ones are.”
“Sounds awfully philosophical of you.”
“Beckman knows. And there’s no scheduled ops coming up.”
“I get the same briefings you do.”
“I know.”
She holds his gaze for as long as she dares and then she slings her bag over her shoulder and opens the door.
“Sarah.”
The sound of her own name is sobering.
“For the record,” and she thinks that this sounds oddly familiar, an echo from her past, “I asked for you. I’m the reason you’re here.”
She swallows, then, like she’s known all along, “Yeah. You are.”
Those eleven lines capture what it is about these two that makes me ship them.
Great story and oh so lovely to read. It's one of those that imbeds itself in your subconscious and you imagine it actually happened on the show.
Great work. xx Dulce
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I'm so very glad you liked this! Thanks for reading and reviewing!
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