Never written anything like this before. First time for everything? …Last time for everything? Anyways I re-watched the kiss scene from Seduction and thought, "I wonder what happened between those two scenes…" I think I just liked the title that popped into my head so I decided to write it.


You Are My Carrot

...Wow. Just... wow. Why did we stop? ...Oh. We're not alone. Shit. Please tell me that did not just happen. Scratch that. Please tell me he didn't see that happen. There's no way I want that kiss to not have happened. Two in only two days, what are we thinking? As if we aren't coiled tight enough already. We're both practically starving for each other and getting tiny nibbles on rare occasions only drives us crazier. Oh god, to have him nibble me... One more kiss won't hurt... No! ...But his hand is right there, and his lip is still touching my lip and it would be so easy to just... Damnit, Sarah! ...But I just want to run my fingers through his hair. My hand is there already. It's not like it would hurt anyone...

Thank you, Chuck. At least one of us has the sense to pull away. And now I'm as red as my apparently incredibly thin top, since the heat from his hand is still burning through to my skin. Oh! Perfect. Look who's standing two feet away? I need to get out of here. I'm almost about to ravish Chuck exactly the way I've dreamt of countless times. No more nibbles, I want my big, juicy, deliciously handsome bite. I'm willing to bet my pillow has had enough of those by now. And I'll kiss him like there's no tomorrow... uh, bad example. I have kissed him like there's no tomorrow. I need so much more. And I'd also be willing to bet if I stay standing next to him there's a good chance I will spontaneously combust.


Bravo indeed. Oh no. Chuck, lick your lips before I lick them for you. I couldn't have worn the neutral colored lipstick, huh? I would have, but I'm pretty positive that Chuck loves me in red.

"I better, fix... my lipstick." Way to butcher that sentence. "Excuse me."


Well at least this is as awkward for him as it is for me... I think. He and Roan seem to be having a prowess-related stare down of some sort. Good for him. Think he's had "intercourse" now, Agent Montgomery?

I'm not sure I even want to know what they're talking about back there. I'd rather focus on getting to the bathroom as quickly as possible and locking the door. How did I go from teasing Chuck's upper lip with the tip of my tongue to sitting against the bathroom door with my hand on my forehead and my knees to my chest?

And why have I not been able to stop thinking about how I lied and manipulated him yesterday? I'm a freaking spy! Lying and manipulating is practically in the job description. And I definitely manipulated him. And sure it would be implausible to assume that he could have everything he's always wanted once he's Intersect-free, but the implication was there. And if he's half as attentive as I think he is, he knows damn well who I was implying. So yes. I absolutely manipulated him. It's the lying part that I'm hung up on. He can live the life he wants with whomever he wants. Spoiler: by 'whomever', I meant me. To be completely honest, I've lied to guys about staying with them countless times before. What I can't get past is that I'm not entirely sure if I was actually lying to Chuck at all.

He's walking over here now. I can recognize his footsteps fairly easily by now. I already heard the front door shut about two minutes ago, so when he says, "He's gone, Sarah," in that sweet, caring, soft voice of his, I become extremely aware of how close and yet so far we are. I know he's leaning on his shoulder against the doorframe. It's what he always does. I don't want the wooden barrier, or any barrier for that matter, to come between us anymore, so with my abnormally long arm and man-hand that I self-consciously hate, I reach up and unlock the door. I move over to lean against the side of the bathtub so as to not be stepped on. He waits a full ten seconds before slowly turning the glass knob and opening the door like I knew he would. He understands my need for ten seconds to prepare myself for an honest to god, one on one talk. Pathetic, but Chuck doesn't mind.

Our eyes immediately lock and he closes the door behind him all the way even though we're the only ones there. I feel too exposed when a door is left open. He knows that, too. Did I forget to mention there's no surveillance in here? Since he's so tall, he sits next to me but on the edge of the tub. I feel tiny with him and that makes me feel safer than I should. Breaking our unwritten law of no unnecessary touching, first formed due to both of us being unaccountable for our actions in the event that it does happen, Chuck snakes his fingers through my hair at the base of my neck and does something amazing with his fingers repeatedly. Out of pure instinct, my eyelids drop and I lean into him, resting my head against the side of his thigh. I'm not embarrassed by the soft moan that comes from the back of my throat, because I know he's not either.

"Where'd Roan go?" I ask him.

"To get more gin."

The primary reason any of this has taken place sticks out in my mind and my heart sinks. "You're seducing Sasha Banacek tonight."

"Yeah," he sighs.

"…It wasn't your fault," I say, hoping he'll know what I'm talking about without explaining it. "I told you it was okay."

"But I caught you off guard," he says shamefully.

"Chuck," I sigh and wrap my arm under his leg, "I'm on guard 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 50 seconds a day. I'm glad I spent my ten seconds today with you."

"And Roan Montgomery," he finishes for me. "But I don't think we should invite him next time."

At this I tilt my head up to see him smiling down at me. "Next time?"

He nods confidently. Who am I kidding? It's only a matter of time. "So what would it take for me to convince you to maybe add on another twenty seconds?"

I want tell him he can have the next hour as long as he'll stay here with me. I want to tell him he can have all night as long as he comes back to me in one piece after dealing with the Black Widow. I'm so tempted to tell him he can have all the time in the world if he'll just be mine. Not Lou's, not that Jill girl's from Stanford, not Sasha Banacek's. I want people to know that Chuck is mine. Chuck is Sarah's.

So when I answer him saying I need something more, I don't protest when he removes his hand from my hair and stands up.

Driving towards my hotel, I so badly want to hold his hand. But the stick shift in my badass superspy getaway car has other plans. I feel nervous. Pure, honest, Jenny Burton-esque nervous. Chuck knows it, too. I know that he can tell. Because we both know what's going to happen. We know finally our most intense desires will be fulfilled when together we use each other as a release for all those intimate feelings that have bottled up over time. There's no holding back here.

In the elevator, his hand rests low on the small of my back. Lower than it's ever been before. We're not even on my floor yet and already we're breaking new ground. When the doors ping open that same hand guides me out and turns me in the right direction. He can do the thinking for both of us.


If you asked me how my shirt got on the floor, I couldn't tell you. The only thing I can think of is him kissing me and me kissing him back. I'm not even completely positive that we closed the door. Unimportant. If someone really wanted to find us, a closed hotel room door probably wouldn't stop them anyway. The thrill of him spontaneously dipping me from my position of straddling his lap makes up for the loss of his mouth for that split second. Now I'm under him and I feel even tinier than I did before. That's all a girl really wants; to feel tiny. It's strange, really. I know more killing techniques than he knows Star Wars quotes and yet he makes me feel… delicate. I've never felt like that before. I'm a spy. Spies aren't delicate.

I'm a spy. Oh no, I'm a spy. He's the most important intelligence asset in the world. The Intersect's handler is currently being handled by the Intersect. That's bad. That is so, so bad.

"What? What is it?" he says sounding genuinely concerned for me. He's probably asking because my whole being just shut down. Our passionate lip lock just turned into a one-way street in the blink of an eye. His thumb is rubbing gentle circles on my hip, but his long fingers still end up with their pads firmly pressed into my ass, making this both harder and easier to do to him. I know I have to. Even after all these times it never gets any easier. It gets harder. Because I can tell, in those brown eyes above me, he actually believes that it'll be the last time.

God, he's so adorable to look up at. "Chuck…" I choke out, putting my hand on the side of his face and sliding it down to his neck. I really wish that guy who said, 'The eyes are the windows to the soul,' was full of it. That way, I could convince myself I didn't just see his heart break as he saw the message through mine.

"…Oh…" Come on, Chuck, please don't do The Nod. "…Okay." Damnit, Sarah, you are not going to cry. No matter how sad he looks or how sweet he is. He is the Intersect. You are not allowed to be… topless. Oh shit, where's my shirt? Wait. What does it matter? I live here.

"I, uh, I think we should get ready for the mission." I'm sorry.

No, Chuck, don't roll away. Fight for me. Tell me you won't take no for an answer. Tell me you know what's best for me. That I've strung you along way too long and you're not going to take it anymore. Get angry with me. Don't give me any room to back out. Please, Chuck, don't make me go through this on my own.

"Sarah." That caught my attention. "I can't make you do this knowing you'll regret it later. Figure yourself out. I can't do it all for you, but I'm here when you do." I love how comforting it is for both of us when I softly kiss his cheek. I slide off the bed and grab my mission gear, fully aware of my missing top. The mirrors around the room reflect his approval of my hot red lace bra that might as well not even exist. The flush returns and I retreat to the bathroom, knowing full well it's only a couple minutes until his shoulder is leaning against the doorframe as I sit against the door with my knees to my chest. It's a never-ending cycle between us and I'm the only one who can stop it.

Because Chuck is the carrot, and I am the stick.

But it won't be long before I snap.


Thanks for reading. I'm currently working on a longer future Chuck/Sarah story. There's a brand spankin' new poll up on my page to see which character I should put in with them. Not as a love triangle, just for story purposes. The usuals will be options.

Taterz :o)