[Dated to the night of April 10th]
When Chuck had seen the announcement on the bulletin board for a big party, he'd pretty much figured that he and Sarah would make an appearance. They'd been to all of the other island parties, anyway, and it'd probably be bad for the cover if they just skipped this one. Especially because someone had asked Chuck if he and Sarah were going, and he'd kind of blurted it out.
So he'd gotten a suit from the compound clothes box-- it wasn't a tuxedo, or even close to as nice as anything the CIA and NSA had dug up for him for super secret spy business, but it was good enough. Besides, there probably wouldn't be any soy sauce for him to accidentally spill on it, so it was kind of a win-win thing.
That evening, after grabbing some flowers for Sarah-- for the cover-- he headed to her hut.
"Knock, knock," Chuck said, knocking on the door frame and poking his head inside. "Sarah?"
He waited a second for a response. "Okay, I'm coming in. And if you're-- if you're naked or...or mostly naked, I'm very, very sorry in advance!"
He walked all the way inside, but instead of finding Sarah, or, at the very least, Sarah's stuff, all Chuck found was an empty hut. Her bed was still there and everything, but this...this didn't feel quite right. He was pretty sure that Sarah would have told him if there was some kind of secret spy stuff going on-- which was ironic, given the whole secret part of it-- if there was any spy stuff to be had.
He knew that people disappeared as quickly as they showed up, but for some reason, the thought had never occurred to him that someone he knew would, or could go. He'd kind of figured that he had time. Time to actually work up to telling Sarah how he really felt, even if she'd said that she didn't feel the same way.
Now, it looked like that'd never happen.
Great.
Sinking down to sit on the ground outside of the door, Chuck sighed, then tossed the flowers next to him.
This? Yeah, this really sucked.
So he'd gotten a suit from the compound clothes box-- it wasn't a tuxedo, or even close to as nice as anything the CIA and NSA had dug up for him for super secret spy business, but it was good enough. Besides, there probably wouldn't be any soy sauce for him to accidentally spill on it, so it was kind of a win-win thing.
That evening, after grabbing some flowers for Sarah-- for the cover-- he headed to her hut.
"Knock, knock," Chuck said, knocking on the door frame and poking his head inside. "Sarah?"
He waited a second for a response. "Okay, I'm coming in. And if you're-- if you're naked or...or mostly naked, I'm very, very sorry in advance!"
He walked all the way inside, but instead of finding Sarah, or, at the very least, Sarah's stuff, all Chuck found was an empty hut. Her bed was still there and everything, but this...this didn't feel quite right. He was pretty sure that Sarah would have told him if there was some kind of secret spy stuff going on-- which was ironic, given the whole secret part of it-- if there was any spy stuff to be had.
He knew that people disappeared as quickly as they showed up, but for some reason, the thought had never occurred to him that someone he knew would, or could go. He'd kind of figured that he had time. Time to actually work up to telling Sarah how he really felt, even if she'd said that she didn't feel the same way.
Now, it looked like that'd never happen.
Great.
Sinking down to sit on the ground outside of the door, Chuck sighed, then tossed the flowers next to him.
This? Yeah, this really sucked.