The trunk lid slammed shut above them. Inside, there was total darkness; only the movement of the car and the soft hum of the tires told them they were already on their way. The air was stuffy, filled with a mixture of gasoline and the faint fishy smell of the harbor. There was barely any room—the trunk was cramped for two people, especially with the car jolting them at every bump and turn.
Chuck Bartowski’s body was pressed tightly against Sarah’s back. Sarah lay in front, turned slightly to one side, with Chuck behind her, practically wrapping his body around hers just so they could fit.
Chuck’s voice came from right beside Sarah’s ear, slightly muffled, complaining in his typically Chuck-like way:
“Aw, crap! They really crammed us in here. There’s barely any room. I’m not even going to say whose fault this is. Can’t you move over a little? I can’t move any farther back! We’re squeezed together like a little crescent roll wrapped around a big one.”
Sarah didn’t answer at first. She could feel the warmth of Chuck’s chest against her back, and his arm, which had ended up wrapped around her so they could lie more securely. Her heart was beating faster—partly because of the danger, and partly because of the strange, disconcerting closeness she had always felt with Chuck but had tried to ignore until now. You’re a CIA agent, Walker. This is just a mission. Just an asset. Just… Chuck.
She tried to slide forward a little, but the side of the trunk stopped her. All the movement accomplished was to press them even closer together.
“I’m trying, Chuck…” she said quietly, her voice a little hoarse. In the darkness, she could feel Chuck’s breath brushing the nape of her neck. “But if I move any farther forward, I’ll hit my head on the wheel well. And you… well, you’re the bigger crescent roll.”
She fell silent for a moment, then a faint, quiet smile crept into her voice—one Chuck probably couldn’t see, though perhaps he could sense it from her body language.
“At least you’re not Casey. He’d definitely be grumbling something like, ‘Somebody’s going to pay for this.’ You, on the other hand… you’re complaining about crescent rolls. Classic.”
Sarah moved her hand and carefully reached back to feel for Chuck’s arm—partly to reassure him, partly to check whether he was hurt. Her fingers lingered on his wrist for a moment. His pulse was strong. Just like hers.
“Listen… can you hear how we’re speeding up? They’re probably taking us out of the city. If we’re lucky, they’re not taking us to the other end of the harbor, but somewhere we might have a chance.”
A sharp turn threw them against each other even harder. Sarah let out a small, involuntary, stifled gasp when Chuck’s full weight pressed against her for a moment. Her face burned. This is not the right time, Sarah. Not at all.
“Are you okay back there?” she asked more quietly, more seriously now. “Did you break anything? And… I’m sorry about tonight. I shouldn’t have let that guy get so close to me in the warehouse. I thought it was a trap, but I figured we’d be able to get out faster.”
Sarah fell silent, but she didn’t take her hand off Chuck’s arm. The strange mix of darkness, forced closeness, and adrenaline made her usual “professional wall” seem thinner. She could feel Chuck’s heartbeat against her back, and admitted to herself—even if only for a moment—that this closeness wasn’t just uncomfortable. Not just uncomfortable at all.
The car continued to jolt along with them inside, heading toward an unknown destination. Sarah’s mind was already racing through possible escape plans, but a part of her—a very human part—was focused for the moment on how warm and alive Chuck’s body felt behind her.
“Say something, Chuck. Anything. Just so I know you haven’t passed out from the whole big-crescent-roll situation,” she added at last, with a faintly playful edge, though her voice gave away that she was trying to ease the tension herself, too.
The car hit another bump, making them both slide a little inside the cramped trunk. Chuck’s body pressed even more tightly against Sarah’s back. Sarah could feel his breathing quicken against the nape of her neck.
Chuck’s voice came from right behind her, nervous but characteristically eager to help:
“Well, Sarah. Things happened so fast here that I’ve already forgotten whether I have my phone on me or not. It’s in one of the front pockets of my pants, but I can’t get my hand in there because I can’t reach it. Check for me. If it’s there, it’s there; if it isn’t, then I either forgot it somewhere or they took it.”
After a short pause, he added, trying to move:
“Wait, I’ll try to scoot back a little so you can fit your hand in more easily.”
Chuck tried to slide backward, but the movement only pressed his body even more firmly against Sarah’s. She could feel the pressure of his thigh and hip, the fabric of his pants directly behind her. Her face immediately grew hot in the darkness.
“Chuck… wait a second…” Sarah murmured, and now there was unmistakable embarrassment in her voice. As a professional agent, she had been in countless difficult situations, but this… this was different. It was always different with Chuck.
She carefully reached back with her right hand. Because of their position, she had to feel around between Chuck’s waist and hip. Her fingers first touched his belt, then slid lower as she searched for his pockets. The movement was extraordinarily intimate—it almost felt like an embrace in the confined space. Sarah could feel the warmth of Chuck’s body through her fingertips, and his heartbeat, which was racing just as fast as hers.
“Don’t move so much… I’m trying…” Sarah whispered, finally finding one of his front pockets. She slipped her fingers inside and felt the hard outline of the phone.
“Got it. Your phone’s in there,” she said softly, though her voice was a shade lower than it should have been. “Good reflexes, Bartowski. At least you got one thing right tonight.”
As she tried to pull the device out, the car made a sharp left turn. Sarah’s hand pressed harder against Chuck’s pants without meaning to, as she tried not to lose her balance. For a moment, they both froze. Sarah felt the nape of her neck tingle from Chuck’s breath.
“Okay… now I’m going to try to turn it on without dropping it,” Sarah continued, trying to return her voice to its usual calm, professional tone, but not quite succeeding. “If there’s a signal, maybe I can contact Casey. Or at least check where we are using GPS.”
There was silence for a second. Sarah’s hand was still lingering near Chuck’s pocket because the phone had slipped a little and she had to catch it again. Their closeness, the darkness, and the fact that they were practically pressed together created a strange, heavy silence between them.
Sarah let out a quiet sigh.
“You know… if someone had told me six months ago that I’d one day be lying in a trunk with a computer nerd who was trying to help from behind me, with my hand in his pants pocket… I’d have thought they were crazy.”
There was a faint, self-deprecating smile in her voice at the end of the sentence, but something warmer, too. She didn’t immediately pull her hand away after finally getting a firm grip on the phone. Her fingers rested on Chuck’s hip for a moment.
“Chuck… calm down. I can feel how tense you are. Breathe. We’re in this together. And… thank you for trying to move back, even if it isn’t working very well.”
The car continued racing through the night toward an unknown destination. Sarah stared at the phone’s screen in the darkness, but part of her attention remained on the man lying close behind her.
The phone’s screen suddenly went dark in Sarah’s hand. The faint light disappeared, and they were plunged into complete darkness once again.
Chuck reacted immediately:
“Phew, great. Okay, wait, give it to me. Maybe I can squeeze a little more battery life out of it.”
As Chuck reached forward for the phone, there was no way to make the movement gentle in such a confined space. His wrist accidentally brushed Sarah’s breast, directly across her nipple. Sarah’s body immediately tensed, and a quiet, startled breath escaped her lips. Her nipple stiffened beneath her thin blouse—partly from the adrenaline, partly from the sudden, intimate touch.
Chuck continued, visibly embarrassed but commenting on the situation in his usual way:
“But, Sarah, are you one of those people who gets cold easily? Because I think it’s freaking hot in here. I’d love to start taking my clothes off. I’m roasting, and you’re over here…”
He finished the sentence a little uncertainly. Meanwhile, so he wouldn’t “start sweating,” he began controlling his breathing: he pursed his lips and blew out a thin stream of air—directly onto Sarah’s neck and the nape of her neck. The warm breath swept over her skin again and again, almost like a caress.
Sarah’s reaction was immediate and intense. She got goosebumps, a shiver ran down her neck, and she could feel her nipple growing even harder from the touch and the steady stream of warm air. Her heart pounded wildly.
“Chuck…” Sarah said, her voice now distinctly huskier and more strained. She grabbed his wrist to stop the movement, but didn’t push it away completely. Her fingers gripped his hand tightly. “I don’t get cold easily. I’m not cold at all.”
She fell silent for a moment, trying to pull herself together. The CIA agent inside her was struggling with the woman lying in a cramped trunk with a man toward whom she was finding it increasingly difficult to remain neutral.
“That… brushing against me… was an accident, I know. But if you keep blowing on my neck like that, I won’t be able to concentrate on getting us out of here alive.”
Sarah shifted a little, but only managed to press her backside more tightly against Chuck’s groin. She could feel his body’s reaction, too, and her face began to burn in the darkness.
“And yes… it’s hot. Very hot,” she admitted more quietly, almost whispering. “But the temperature isn’t our biggest problem right now. If we can’t bring that phone back to life, we’ll be in much bigger trouble soon.”
Sarah was still holding Chuck’s wrist, but her fingers were no longer gripping it so tightly. They were simply… staying there. She could feel Chuck’s regular, pursed-lip breath still brushing her skin. Her body reacted—her pulse thudded in her ears, and she knew Chuck could feel how quickly her breathing had become.
“Give me the phone… you try,” she said at last, handing the device back to him, though her body pressed against his again as she moved. “And Chuck… try to… breathe normally. Please.”
The car continued speeding along, the engine’s rumble and the noise of the tires filling the space, but inside the trunk the tension had taken on an entirely different character. Sarah’s heart was pounding, and she knew that this closeness was becoming dangerously interesting for both of them.
Chuck began taking deeper breaths, his chest pressing against Sarah’s back with every inhale.
“Hey, Sarah… why do I feel like your body’s getting hotter and hotter? You’re like a radiator. It’s already boiling in here, so don’t do that. I’m here, I’ll protect you from anything—just don’t get so hot in here.”
Meanwhile, Chuck fumbled with the phone, trying to take it apart in the darkness. His fingers moved beside Sarah’s hand, their bodies still pressed tightly together. He continued in a whisper:
“Listen, I know I’m a technician, but I’ve never taken a phone apart in pitch darkness before, so I wouldn’t bet on my chances. But I’ll try.”
He fell silent for a moment, then continued even more quietly, almost sheepishly:
“Besides, I’m also trying to deal with the fact that you’re so close. Your butt is right here, and it’s really hard not to notice it and not to think about it. I’m trying like crazy not to think about it, believe me. And your perfume isn’t exactly helping, because it’s just… well, I’d better keep fiddling with this thing.”
Sarah’s body went completely rigid for a moment. Chuck’s words and blunt honesty hit her like an electric shock. She could feel his body reacting behind her—the erection now unmistakably pressing against her backside through their thin pants. Her own body betrayed her, too: her skin was hot, her pulse wild, and her nipples were hard beneath her blouse.
“Chuck…” Sarah’s voice was now lower, a little breathless. She took one of his hands to stop him from pulling the phone apart for a moment. “Don’t… don’t say things like that. At least not like this, when we barely fit in here and every time either of us moves… we can feel the other person.”
Sarah swallowed. Her perfume really was lingering in the confined space, mingling with the smell of sweat and tension. Chuck’s breath was still brushing her neck, and every time he took a deep breath, she could feel his chest pressing against her back.
“I know it’s hard,” Sarah whispered, now struggling to keep her professional tone, too. “It’s not easy for me, either. I can feel you… everywhere. Your body. Your breath. And yes, I’m hot. Very hot.”
She fell silent for a moment as the car turned again, causing her backside to rub involuntarily against Chuck. They both let out a quiet hiss.
Sarah continued, her voice a little more playful now, but still tense:
“And no, I’m not a radiator. You’re just… too close, Bartowski. And the perfume… it’s just perfume. I’m not doing it on purpose to make this even harder.”
Sarah reached back and carefully helped Chuck with the phone, her fingers touching his in the darkness. The movement was intimate, almost a caress.
“Focus on the phone. Try. If it works, we might still have a chance before… before this whole situation gets out of hand. Because if you keep blowing on my neck and saying things like that, the bad guys might not be the only problem we have to deal with.”
The corner of Sarah’s mouth lifted into a faint smile in the darkness, but her body trembled at the touch and his words. Her heart was pounding, and she knew Chuck could feel it. The trunk no longer represented only physical confinement; it had also become the setting for a far more dangerous, more alluring tension between them.
The car continued racing through the night.
Chuck tried to pull himself together and spoke a little tensely, but more firmly:
“Okay, I can feel myself getting it under control now. No, I’m not sweating anymore. I wasn’t sweating much before, but now I’m sweating even less. This should work.”
He continued his controlled breathing technique, trying not to blow on Sarah’s neck as she had asked, but in the cramped space that was almost impossible. So he eventually directed the thin stream of breath into her hair, gently ruffling her blonde strands.
Then he continued softly, in a whisper:
“Well, Sarah, I don’t want to upset you, but I really don’t think the main problem is going to be that I’ve been blowing air on your—”
Sarah interrupted him again, her voice husky with arousal and anxiety:
“I know. I can feel it. I can definitely feel what the bigger problem is… down there. Don’t say it. Just… try to concentrate.”
But Chuck couldn’t help himself and continued in a whisper, his fingers fiddling with the back of the phone:
“We’ve got a bigger problem coming, and I can already feel it. The thing is, it’s not me doing it—it’s like I’m not in control. If I were in control, I’d just say, ‘Uh, lie down, go to sleep.’ But that’s not how it works.”
Sarah’s body tensed, and at the next bump her backside involuntarily rubbed against Chuck’s erection. She let out a quiet, stifled sigh.
“Oh my God, Chuck… are you seriously saying this right now? I can feel you throbbing. I’m trying to stay professional, but you’re sitting here talking about how you can’t control it…”
Chuck laughed nervously, though the laugh sounded more like a groan.
“Okay, here’s the phone. I’ll put it back together in a second. Focus on the phone, focus on the phone…”
Sarah reached back and grabbed Chuck’s wrist to help steady the phone, but her fingers lingered there for a moment.
“Then concentrate, for crying out loud!” Sarah hissed, though there was no real anger in her voice; embarrassment and arousal had taken its place. “Because if you keep pressing against me like this, and I’m also… damn it, Chuck, I’m hot. You’re making me really hot. But if we can’t get that phone working now, we won’t have time to deal with this.”
Sarah could feel Chuck’s erection pressing more firmly against her backside through the thin fabric. Her hair moved with every breath he took, and the warm air reached her scalp. Her body reacted involuntarily: her stomach tightened, her thighs tensed slightly, and she could feel her own arousal growing stronger, too.
“Chuck…” Sarah’s voice was now barely more than a breath. She tried to slide forward a little, but only ended up rubbing her backside more firmly against him. They both hissed softly.
“I can feel it. I can definitely feel it,” Sarah admitted, her voice carrying embarrassment, tension, and a warm, husky undertone. “You’re not the only one struggling with this. I… can really feel you there. Everywhere.”
Sarah reached back and carefully placed her hand on Chuck’s thigh, partly to steady herself and partly… perhaps to reassure him. Her fingers gently squeezed the fabric of his pants.
“Focus on the phone, yes. Good idea,” she said, but a quiet, stifled sigh escaped her as Chuck’s breath caught in her hair again. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but if you keep blowing on my hair, and I can feel just how hard you are down there, then it’s going to be very difficult for me to ‘concentrate,’ too.”
Sarah fell silent for a moment, then added more quietly, almost as if making a confession:
“I never thought it would be this hard to stay professional with you in a trunk. But let’s try. Both of us. Because if the phone doesn’t work, we’ll soon have a much more serious problem than this… heat between us.”
Sarah’s body remained pressed tightly against Chuck’s, and her breathing grew faster. Although she tried to focus on the phone, her hand didn’t move from Chuck’s thigh. The jolting of the car only intensified the constant, intimate friction between them.
The tension in the confined space was almost tangible.
Chuck tried to push the battery back into place, but his hand was shaking.
Sarah continued more quietly, almost whispering into his ear, her body still pressed tightly against his:
“And stop blowing on my hair… or keep doing it. Whatever. Just fix the phone. And if it works… we can talk later about why I’m so hot next to you in a freaking trunk.”
The car kept speeding along, their bodies pressed together at every bump. As they talked, the tension between them only grew—sometimes Chuck tried to explain himself, sometimes Sarah cut him off, and sometimes they both fell silent after a particularly intimate movement.
Chuck finally managed to reassemble the phone in the darkness. He pressed the power button. Nothing. The screen remained black.
“Whoa… well, Sarah… we’re screwed,” he said in disappointment.
Sarah immediately sighed, frustration and tension mingling in her voice.
“Great. That’s exactly what we needed…”
Chuck continued, his face right beside Sarah’s neck and hair:
“But don’t keep giving me a hard time about the breathing. I’m lying behind you, your hair and neck are right in my face—where the hell am I supposed to blow the air? Should I hold it in, or what?”
Sarah shifted, and her backside involuntarily rubbed against Chuck.
“Chuck, all I said was—” she began, but Chuck didn’t stop.
“You want to argue with me in a space this small? With us this close together? Is that really what we’re doing?”
Sarah snapped back more sharply, though her breathing was rapid:
“I’m not arguing! I’m just trying to… concentrate. But you keep blowing on me, and I can feel that… damn it, Chuck, you’re really hard, and I can feel myself getting wet from all this, too. It’s not easy!”
Chuck fell silent for a moment, then continued:
“It’s really bothering me. I have one more idea. What if I blow the air in front of you? But to do that, I’d have to put my face against yours so I could blow in front of you. Would that be better or worse than what’s happening now?”
Sarah’s body trembled at his words. For a long second there was silence, with only the noise of the car audible.
“Are you… seriously offering to put your face against mine?” Sarah asked incredulously, though her voice was no longer entirely angry. She was more embarrassed and excited. “Chuck, if your face touches mine while we’re lying like this… it’ll be even more intimate. I’ll feel your mouth against my skin.”
Sarah reached back and took hold of Chuck’s thigh more firmly this time.
“But maybe… maybe that would be better than having you breathe into my hair nonstop. I don’t know. This whole situation is completely insane.”
A sharp turn threw them against each other. Sarah let out a quiet moan when Chuck’s erection pressed more firmly against her.
“Fuck… do it if you have to,” she finally whispered, half giving in to the situation. “Blow the air in front of me. But slowly. And don’t say anything stupid while you’re doing it, because I’m about to lose the ability to think straight, too.”
Sarah turned her head slightly to the side, as much as the cramped space allowed, bringing her face closer to Chuck’s. Their breaths almost mingled in the darkness.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Try it,” she said quietly, challengingly, though her voice trembled.
The tension in the trunk was now almost ready to explode.
Chuck carefully lifted his head and moved forward until his face was level with Sarah’s. Their noses nearly touched, and their lips were only millimeters apart. To make the movement, Chuck had to press even more tightly against Sarah’s backside, almost lying fully on top of her from behind. His erection was now unmistakably pressing hard against her.
Sarah’s breath caught immediately.
“Chuck… oh my God…” she whispered directly into his face, their mouths almost touching with every syllable.
Chuck’s voice trembled from only a few inches away:
“Uhhh, Sarah… say something to distract me, and make it quick!”
Sarah’s eyes widened in the darkness. She could feel Chuck’s hot breath against her lips; their faces were touching, and their bodies were pressed completely together. She could feel him throbbing against her backside, and it aroused her completely, too.
“Distract you? Now?” Sarah panted, closing her eyes for a moment. “Okay… okay… think… think about Casey! Yes, Casey. The way he grumbles and says, ‘Bartowski, you idiot.’ Or… or the Buy More. That stupid Nerd Herd uniform you wear, the one that always makes you look like a lost puppy…”
As she spoke, Sarah reached back and gripped Chuck’s hip tightly because her body was rubbing against him involuntarily.
“Damn it, Chuck… this isn’t working,” she groaned, cutting herself off. “Because I can feel you pressing hard against me, and I… I’m wet, too. Very wet. Your face against mine, your mouth this close… this is insane.”
Sarah’s nose brushed gently against Chuck’s, and it was almost as if they were kissing without actually kissing.
“You say something instead,” Sarah whispered in a trembling voice, her lips accidentally brushing Chuck’s as she spoke. “Anything. Tell me about the worst Buy More customer you ever had, or… or why you’re always so cute when we’re in danger. Just keep talking, because if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to hold myself back much longer.”
Sarah’s body trembled slightly beneath Chuck, their breathing completely mingled, their faces pressed warmly together. Every jolt of the car caused another intimate brush between them.
“Chuck… quickly. Say something,” Sarah pleaded in a soft, urgent voice, her lips almost touching his.
Chuck’s face was pressed fully against Sarah’s; their noses touched and their lips nearly met. His body pressed even more tightly against her from behind.
Chuck immediately responded in an excited, breathless voice:
“And seriously? I’ve got a professional CIA agent sitting in my lap, and she’s telling me she can’t think of anything smart to say, so I’m supposed to come up with something?”
Sarah immediately cut him off, her lips almost brushing his with every word:
“Chuck… damn it, don’t do that…”
