so, this one is a bit different. its also a sorta new style? something like that, hope you like :) there may be another one? maybe instead of being a five things for them, it could just be a series of drabbles? well r&r guys, i like feedback and give me suggestions huh?


v.

The cool, moist air if Burbank's beach cools Chuck's sweat-soaked hair. Sand clings to his pants and the milky moon gives off an ethereal glow, washing everything with its pale yellow glow. Soft footsteps sound, sand parting beneath her feet and this: Sarah's limping, just a bit, and when she sits next to him, her body sits heavily on the sand.

Her lips part and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. "This is our spot, isn't it?"

In the half-light, Sarah's too blue (sky blue) eyes are dark, dark: almost black. She swallows, a bit nervous; their latest mission has had that effect on her. Chuck clears his throat, brushes at damp curls and pretends not to stiffen when Sarah lays her head against his shoulder.

"You were almost shot today," she tells him quietly, and he doesn't have to turn his head to see her blue-black eyes harden and go sad.

This time Chuck does stiffen against her and when he talks, he's a bit defensive.

"Yeah, but I wasn't shot Sarah. In fact, if I remember correctly," he pulls away from her slightly to glare at her leg, bandaged and aching, "you were the one shot."

Her voice is still quiet "Just a graze Chuck, and I'm trained for this" she pauses, glancing at him "while you aren't."

In the dark, clear sky, with the milky moon above them, Chuck can see the distance between them, a chasm that finally seems too big to cross, like maybe there's no happy ending for them.

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Here's the thing about them, something you should know.

Chuck and Sarah didn't just fall in love; they plummeted down hard and weren't prepared for the unyielding ground when they finally hit the bottom.

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it's been---how long?---an hour, maybe two and Sarah spent the last forty-five minutes with her head placed hesitantly on his shoulder, (it never used to be so hard they remember, they used to be just reach out and the other would be there, always) blue-black eyes covered by a fringe of dark eyelashes, her breaths deep and even and Chuck traced patterns on her shoulder, his head resting on hers.

It wasn't a perfect, happy ending because they weren't real but it was theirs, and really, their story hasn't ended, not really.

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(Tomorrow, Chuck will brush his lips against Sarah's cheek and smile at her, ready to fight for them again.

Her eyes, sky blue again, will light up because if anything, Sarah's always been adept at reading him, and she'll rest her forehead against his, drawing her eyes closed as she breathes his name, content to simply be with him and know that he'll never give up.)