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“Oh my god, why do the French have to make such good croissants?”
A laugh, clear and feminine and a sound that is not normally heard from Sarah rings across the small square. “Chuck, you are getting chocolate all over your face!”
Chuck grins back, chocolate forming a messy mustache and goatee on his face. He soaks her in, the way the sunlight makes her golden hair shine like an aura, eyes clear and happy, the fact that she is not constantly looking over her shoulder for danger. Oh, and enjoying the fact that her gun is stashed away in their hotel room, neglected.
Her grin mirrors his, and he takes her hand. Sarah hands him a napkin and he wipes it quickly across his mouth, smearing the chocolate even more across his face. The ridiculous action makes Sarah laugh uncontrollably. “That did nothing,” she hiccups between bursts of laughter. Chuck wonders when the last time she laughed like this was.
“I’m saving it for later,” he says smoothly, trying the best he can to keep Sarah laughing. He couldn’t get enough of it, her laughter was like a drug, and he couldn’t stop taking it, drinking in the sound, the expression on her face. So calm, carefree. So… normal . When was the last time she could be normal? When was the last time she was normal? It had to be a very long time.
Sarah calms down, swallowing her laughter so she could speak, but the smile and glow on her face did not fade one bit. “Here, let me help.” She took the napkin from Chuck and raised that to his mouth and started gently wiping at the stubborn brown stain lingering there. She kissed him when she was done, lingering for a second before sitting back down in her chair. “It’s our last day in Paris, Chuck. What are we going to do?”
“What do you want to do Sarah?” he counteracts. They had done very little sightseeing, sticking to the area around their hotel for the most part. Well, in their hotel room was a better phrase to use.
“I asked you first,” she said firmly, laying the now-dirty but folded napkin on the table. “I have traveled the world, you haven’t. You see what you want to see, and I’ll go along.”
“You know, the brochure said that there was this adorable little place right off of…” A flash of black hair, a tall, slender figure caught his eye, stopping him in his tracks.
“What is it, Chuck? Did you flash?” Sarah asks alarmingly. A flash is always a priority, no matter where they were, what they were doing. It was engraved in their minds.
A face pops in Chuck’s mind, one that he hasn’t thought of in a year. Ice blue eyes that entice everyone who meets them, lips that are quick to give a charming smile, an overall perfect face that makes all the women fall for him…
He points to where the figure vanished, another cafe across the square, brimming with people. Sarah turns around and looks where he’s pointing and shakes her head. “What is it, Chuck? I don’t see anything.”
Chuck shakes his head and lowers his finger. “N-Nothing. Sorry. It was just a trick of the light.”
Sarah looks at him, concerned, but goes back to eating her muffin. “What were you going to say before you, um, saw nothing?”
“Oh, oh, yeah. The brochure in the hotel room mentioned this place, this park, that i lovely to walk around, especially early in the morning and late at night. The river is supposed to sparkle and the lights are just exquisite…” He gestures dramatically with his hands, trying to replicate the splendor he was picturing in his head. He continues gesturing while staring at Sarah, silently telling her to say something.
She chuckles, awe at her boyfriend lighting her eyes up. Chuck’s chest gets tight. How was he able to land this beautiful girl? Especially after all they’ve been through, how much he did to become a spy… He has wanted nothing more than her, though. He would give up everything he had to be with her. She is everything he has ever needed, wanted, or ever dreamed of.
He was admiring her when he saw it again.
Sharp, tailored suit, hands in his pockets, and walking briskly down the sidewalk.
He sits from his half-standing stance, lowering his arms. Sarah follows his gaze. “What is it? This is the second time you’ve stopped midsentence to stare at something across the square. Tell me, Chuck.”
“Bryce,” was all he said.
Sarah looks at him, confused. “But Bryce is dead. I spread his ashes myself.”
“I just saw him, I swear.” Chuck lost sight of the man, but he quickly spotted him again as the man dashed across the square.
I looked like Bryce, even from afar, Chuck could recognize him, but he didn’t act like Bryce Larkin. Through all of his missions and training, Chuck learned how to analyze a person’s mannerisms, and this wasn’t Bryce’s. This man walked with a straight back, Bryce didn’t always stand up straight. This guy also held himself higher, wearing fancy clothes on the daily. Bryce hid in the shadows, tried to keep the attention away from himself. Unless he was with Sarah, then they stole the entire spotlight.
He vanished again, and Sarah turns around. “Chuck, are you alright? I don’t know what you are so worried about. Bryce is dead. Damn it, you’ve even been through worse!”
“I know, I know. That is why I am not chasing after him. But it still gives a weird feeling…” he shakes his head. Ah, let's just drop it. Last day in Paris, we have so much more to do than chase ghosts, don’t we?” He raises his coffee cup.
Sarah grabs her coffee cup and clinks it with Chuck’s. “Ghosts dead and buried.”