Chapter 6 – Day One, 9:15 PM

Chapter 6 – Day One, 9:15 P.M.

Chuck was still leaning over his stereo, searching through his CDs, when Sarah quietly stepped into his room. Soft music drifted through the apartment. Something easy. Comfortable. Completely ordinary. The sight of Sarah, however… …was anything but. She was wearing one of Chuck's oversized T-shirts and a pair of simple sleep shorts. Chuck's bedroom was filled with stacks of movies, video games, comic books, music, and years of carefully collected memories. Sarah didn't see clutter. She saw a life. A real one. The kind she'd never had. She stood there for a long moment, letting her eyes wander over the shelves as though she were looking at something she didn't quite have permission to touch. She'd never had a favorite band. Or favorite albums. There had never been time for things like that. But with Chuck… Maybe there could be. She could already imagine him enthusiastically trying to convince her why one album was better than another. "Wow…"

The word slipped out before she realized she'd spoken. Chuck looked up. "What?"

She nodded toward the shelves.

Chuck smiled sheepishly. "Yeah." Then he noticed what she was wearing. His eyes widened for exactly one second before he forced himself to look somewhere else. "Well…" He cleared his throat. "This is… considerably less distracting than last time."

Sarah tilted her head. Then remembered. "Oh." She smiled knowingly. "That was different."

"You remember?"

Chuck laughed nervously. "Pretty sure that's not something I could forget."

Sarah folded her arms casually. "Back then we were supposed to convince everyone we'd be sleeping together for the first time." She gestured toward herself. "This… …is what a couple who's been together for a while would actually wear."

Chuck nodded slowly. "Right. That makes sense." He couldn't help smiling. Honestly, Sarah would have looked beautiful wearing sweatpants and an old hoodie. The smile disappeared an instant later. Sarah knelt beside her overnight bag. Then calmly pulled out a combat knife.

Chuck blinked. "…Whoa. What exactly are you planning to do with that?"

Sarah looked at the knife as if the answer were obvious. "This?" She walked over to the bed and slid it beneath her pillow. "I sleep better with it."

Chuck stared. "Sure. Because that's obviously what normal people keep under their pillows."

Sarah shrugged. "This isn't a normal situation."

Chuck sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I know. I just wish… …sometimes we could pretend it was."

Sarah looked at him. There was none of Agent Walker's usual emotional armor in her eyes. "I know."

Silence settled between them. The music continued softly in the background, filling the space where neither of them quite knew what to say. Chuck finally broke it. "So… There's a combat knife under your pillow."

"Yes."

"Casey's probably watching the building."

"Most likely."

"And a supposedly dead spy is hunting us."

Sarah nodded. "Yes."

Chuck leaned back against the headboard. "Okay. Just making sure we're still living in the same reality."

Sarah smiled. A tired smile. An honest one. "Yes, Chuck. We are."

Another quiet moment passed. Sarah settled onto the bed beside him. Chuck glanced sideways. "So… What's the plan in this version of reality?"

Sarah thought about it. "We sleep."

Chuck laughed softly. "Right. Because it's obviously that simple."

She met his eyes. "It isn't." A pause. "But we can still try."

Chuck nodded. "Okay."

The bedside lamp dimmed. The music slowly faded into silence. Outside, the world kept turning— filled with danger… secrets… and Mariana. Inside the apartment, there were only two people trying, for just a few hours, to forget all of that. For the moment… it was enough. Chuck took a slow breath. "Sarah, I…"

She gently interrupted him without looking away from the ceiling. "Don't. Let's just sleep."

There wasn't a trace of coldness in her voice. Only quiet certainty. A few moments later, her breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm. She had fallen asleep. At some point, her arm came to rest lightly across Chuck's. So naturally… as if this had always been how they slept. Chuck, on the other hand, remained wide awake. Far too awake. His thoughts were impossibly loud. This is really happening. He barely dared move. Barely dared breathe. Just go to sleep. Come on. Just… Sometime before dawn… sleep finally claimed him.

When Chuck woke up, he didn't understand what he was feeling at first. Warmth. Softness. The faint scent of fruit. Something unexpectedly comforting. Then realization hit him. He was holding someone. His mind slowly caught up. Sarah. Sometime during the night, they'd drifted closer together. This wasn't an accidental brush of hands anymore. They were curled up together. Chuck's arm rested around Sarah. Sarah was nestled comfortably against him. As though they'd always slept that way. Chuck's brain stopped working for a full second. Then immediately rebooted into full panic mode. Okay. Okay. This wasn't intentional. People move in their sleep. There's probably science explaining this. Very carefully… millimeter by millimeter… he tried to ease his arm away. Don't wake her. Don't make this awkward. Don't—

"It's okay."

Chuck froze. Sarah's voice was soft. Sleepy. Her eyes were still closed. "Stay… …just a little longer."

His heart skipped a beat. "You're awake?"

"I have been."

"And… You didn't say anything?"

A tiny smile appeared on her face. Her eyes still closed. "I didn't want to."

Silence. But not the awkward kind. The kind that felt… dangerously comfortable. Chuck didn't move. He wasn't sure he wanted to. "This…" he whispered. "…is definitely not part of the cover."

Sarah slowly opened her eyes. She looked at him. Far too close. For one suspended heartbeat, the world simply stopped. "I know."

A few moments later, Sarah slowly eased herself back. Not abruptly. Not awkwardly. "We should get up."

Chuck nodded. "Yeah."

"Mission."

"Mission."

Neither of them moved right away. Because they both knew… those few quiet moments had belonged to neither the CIA… …nor the mission. They had belonged only to them.