NoMoreNextTimesEpilogue

T/N: Finished. Show a little appreciation. lol. Nik

Windermere Island Sound
Eleuthera, Bahamas

Five Years After Spanish Shoals

The young woman rose up from the sea and turned her face towards the sun and pulled back and squeezed the water from her hair. She was tall and tanned and for a moment the man watching her was reminded of Stan Getz' 'Girl from Ipanema'. The white bikini caught and held his eyes. She was beautiful and she was walking towards him.

"Hi. Mind if I sit here for a while?" Her voice was a pleasant contralto but it was her blue eyes that held him, more so than the fully filled bikini top.

"I'd like that. I'm Chuck." He looked at her, curious, and she smiled and leaned over and whispered, as she had almost every morning since they'd 'retired' here, "I'm Sarah. I'm your wife, your lover, the mother of your…"

"Dadeeeee!"

"And that's the sea urchin I delivered four years ago tomorrow. That's our daughter…" but got no further because her husband had jumped to his feet with a look of abject terror on his face.

"Chuck, it's OK, sweetheart. You don't need to…"

"Help me. Someone help me. It's a…sea monster. Help!"

"Dadeeee, I'm not a sea monster, I'm a girl."

"Same difference." He scooped up his little blonde mini-Sarah and ran carrying her into the surf, shifting her onto his back and dove through a wave. His stride still had that hitch in it that was caused by the large chunk of muscle he'd left on Spanish Shoals.

Sarah watched it all in total contentment. Life was so good to them now. Every morning when it wasn't raining or there wasn't a 'consult' in DC, they met on the beach after breakfast and her morning swim and went through the ritual they'd promised each other back in Marathon. The 'sea urchin' was a mixed blessing. She could no longer go with him on the rare mission he ran but he opted for 'consulting' more often than not these days. She still worried since no one could watch his back like she could. She'd transferred to the NSA's Protective Detail to watch it.

Three Years after Spanish Shoals

She had a solo mission in Europe approved by Beckman. She'd only be gone three days but Beckman had insisted that a suitable 'protective detail' be in place before she left. She'd requested a postponement but Beckman had been adamant about the need for speed in this exchange.

Sarah was heartbroken that she'd miss her daughter's second birthday and they'd celebrated it in Governor's Harbour the previous evening. Still, it wasn't the same even though she knew the little urchin wouldn't realize the significance other than 'Mommy go bye-bye'.

Her husband, well, that was another thing entirely. He'd gone off the rails, as Casey often said, telling Beckman that his wife was not at her beck and call but at his. Beckman had laughed, telling him to get a grip and not to forget to take his blood pressure medicine. It was a running joke between them.

"Sarah Drake, when your contract expires, that's it. The end. You're a mother and wife now and that takes precedence." It was one of their bitterest arguments, and they'd had a few since getting together after Spanish Shoals, and one of the few times he'd deliberately slept apart from her. The next morning he'd given her an ultimatum that boiled down to 'choose: CIA or us.'

He'd put her in a corner. She didn't like being given ultimatums and it showed in her attitude. The days after Beckman had assigned her the exchange had been tense and even Maura had noticed. "Mommy sad, Daddy sad, why?"

How do you tell a 2-year old that her mommy and daddy might split up? You don't. You lie. It's your best spy quality. You lie better than most.

"Mommy's just sad that she'd going to be gone on a trip and Daddy's sad that you guys can't go with me, that's all. Now, give mommy a big kiss and say g'night to your daddy. It's bedtime."

He was at her bedside when she regained consciousness in the hospital in Berne. He'd been there the entire eleven days she'd teetered between life and death. He looked haggard and hadn't done much in the way of eating or sleeping. He looked terrible. He looked wonderful.

"OK, Chuck. I'll retire at the end of this contract period. You win."

"No, Sarah, we win."

6 Months After Berne, Switzerland

"Sarah Drake, secure."

"Sarah, John Casey. Pack a bag. Bring the urchin. A helicopter will be at North Island airport by the time you get there. You'll be met in Miami. The team was in France, Sarah. Maureen's flying down now from Marathon in the same chopper and will watch Maura for you at your place in Eleuthera."

No spy or spy's wife ever really got used to the notion that her loved one's life could end in some God forsaken place without a name or without good reason, but it happened. Sometimes all they got was a letter from an Agency; sometimes they'd get nothing at all.

"What can you tell me, Casey? Is he…?" No one wants to say the word as if avoiding it makes it not true, will somehow change what has already happened.

"He and Rico met a French couple when they were working Operation Ransack and really hit it off. Simone called Chuck and told him that they'd stumbled onto a Ring sleeper cell and that the leader had passed her husband some documents and a load of flash drives with encrypted files. She wanted to buy herself a free pass. She asked Chuck to come and meet with them."

"He told me about the French agents. If I remember correctly, they were expecting their first child."

"Yeah. So anyway, Chuck and his team went to meet them with Beckman's blessing. Nothing more than a meet & greet and an exchange of data. Chuck hoped to meet with the Ring operative and arrange a safe conduct back to America for her."

"Casey, what's happened to my husband?"

"They were ambushed. All but Frazier on the team is gone and Chuck's hurt. Head injury is the worst and what's got the docs at Ramstein up in tizzy. I'll meet you in Frankfort and we'll go to the military hospital together. He's unconscious but not in critical condition, just unconscious."

"I'll see you there, Casey. Thanks for sending Maureen." Maura loved her Auntie Maureen and Sarah felt grateful that she and Chuck had such good and loyal friends.

Ramstein Air Force Base Hospital
Ramstein, Germany

It had been a rough flight for Sarah Drake. Now she knew how her husband had felt on his flight to Switzerland. She understood a lot more now than she did then.

Casey had picked her up at the base's government hangar and they'd been driven to the hospital. Casualties from Iraq and Afghanistan had been treated in the hospital and stabilized for evacuation back to US hospitals and the staff was excellent.

She'd called Maureen and checked in about her munchkin and got to talk with her for a few minutes. Sometimes her daughter seemed wise beyond her years and prattled on about all the things Sarah needed to hear to take her mind off the reason she wasn't cuddling up with her daughter instead of 'Auntie Maureen'.

Chuck's doctor met her in the hallway outside his room. Casey put an arm around her to steady her as the doctor droned on and on in medical babble. She finally sidestepped the doctor and walked into her husband's room and back out again, white-faced and with her hands over her mouth as if trying to keep a scream from slipping out.

A military chaplain in priest's vestments was giving her husband the Last Rites. She hadn't even wondered about Chuck's religion. It had never come up although he had nagged her until the urchin had been baptized.

Trembling and suddenly very cold, she fixed the doctor with her best intimidating stare. "Exactly what is the nature of Agent Drake's injury and what are you doing about it? Casey, I thought he wasn't in critical condition and yet there's a priest giving him the Last Rites. I want explanations, now, gentlemen." She nodded to the Chaplain as he left and then stalked into her husband's room. She made a bee line for the chair beside his bed and clutched his hand in hers.

"Mrs. Drake, your husband was shot in the upper left chest and the bullet was removed without further complications. Total recovery is expected. He was very lucky. The head injury was from striking his head on something when he fell. The surviving agent carried him to their vehicle and stopped the bleeding and called for an extraction."

"Damn it, what's wrong with him?" Casey put a hand on her forearm, keeping her from reaching for her weapon. He knew her. A frightened Sarah Drake was not one to trifle with.

"We don't know. He won't respond to stimuli but he's not in a coma. We just don't know. I've scheduled him for transport to DC. They have the best brain injury specialists and psychiatrists around."

She had an idea. "Fine, doctor. Thank you. You may go now. Casey, stay, please."

When the doctor left, Sarah looked at Casey and asked, "Ever seen the Exorcist, John?"

She laughed at the look on his face. So Chuck-like. She wasn't exorcising a demon, she was trying to bring Deuce to the surface for a little one-on-one.

"Deuce, it's Sarah Drake, Chuck's wife. C'mon, Deuce, you're in there. Talk to me, girl friend. I need to know what to do."

Casey paled and looked at his former partner. What the hell was 'Deuce' and what…

A strangled voice muttered, "Talk, now she wants to talk. OK, but a little water and cut the lights." She brought a glass of water and a straw to her husband. Casey turned off all the lights and opened the blinds a bit.

"Sarah, he's in the box. It was horrible. They'd…the Ring…Simone, Henri, their little girl, all dead. Not easy deaths. They wanted information. Two Ring operatives, man and a woman. Shot Chuck then shot Fergie, another outside, sniper, took out the others."

"Woman was going to shoot Fergie again. They only wanted him but Chuck shot them both then crawled into the box and…"

"Shhh, we know the rest. It's OK, Deuce. He's safe. You're both safe now. Can I talk to him? Please?" She was whispering, trying to calm down the thing that occupied her husband's consciousness.

"No, Sam, he won't talk. The little girl was…he won't talk. He won't talk to me, either, Sam. He hit his head somehow. The implant – the implant is broke, Sam. He got all the myelin at once. Messed us up. Time will heal us. Talk to him, Sam. Take him home. Make him quit. We're dying, Sam. Make him quit." Deuce whispered the last few sentences and then was quiet.

"Chuck, please, talk to me, sweetheart…I need you, Chuck, please. The munchkin's with Maureen and I'm going to take you home as soon as I can. No more missions, Chuck. I'm sorry about your friends and their baby. You can't bring them back and it wasn't your fault. Your baby needs you. She needs her daddy. Please come back, Chuck."

There were more conversations with Deuce when Casey had other things to do. It made him very uncomfortable and Sarah could see the wheels turning in his head. He thought Chuck had finally snapped and was insane. He'd told the General as much during an update. They'd discussed options but neither felt ready to make a decision yet.

Maggie Ferguson was going back to the States and stopped by to check on her team leader. Sarah had given her some privacy but Casey made her listen to the surveillance tape of the conversation. After Deuce appeared, he'd wired Chuck's room for audio and video.

"Hey, Chuck, it's Maggie. Don't get up. Just…I'm sorry, Chuck. Really, really sorry. I should have gone in first. You would have been able to run, maybe warn the others but…any way, thanks for pulling me out of there and I'm sorry about your French friends. I guess I'm saying it wasn't your fault, it wasn't anyone's fault but the Ring bastards and they paid for it. I'll…I'll see you Stateside, Chuck. Hurry home."

They watched the tape. Sarah teared up at the tenderness exhibited by the younger agent but didn't think it was necessary to watch the tape and said so.

"Watch, Walker. Watch Chuck." When Ferguson walked out, Chuck started to cry and rolled over on his side away from the camera. Casey advanced the video feed and they saw Chuck get out of bed and stagger to the window and try to open it.

"He's not catatonic. The docs are wrong. He's hiding, waiting for a chance to run. I don't know what he's thinking but I think it's time to go home, Sarah."

"No more missions, John. He's done. His scores…tell Beckman it's '80 and dropping'. She'll understand. Tell her 'I want my 50 years'."

Windermere Island Sound
Eleuthera, Bahamas
SIX Years After Spanish Shoals

She stretched and almost purred. He'd given her a body massage, a full body massage with fingertips, hands and finally, when she could stand it no longer, his tongue…ooooh. Making love with him was a constant series of very pleasant surprises since each time seemed like the very first time.

"Chuck, Chuck…hey, lover, it's a brand new day. C'mon, Chuck, wake up and shower and then…"

"No. Wanna sleep. Some one kept me up way too late last night. The horniness of the second trimester has taken hold of my wife. I need to sleep and recover. Getting old isn't fun, Sarah Drake. It's a pain in the…everywhere."

She laughed and kissed him good morning and got up to wake the urchin and start another day of the rest of their lives. She knew she'd never get the 50 years they'd promised each other but she'd settle every morning for just one more day with him. Just one more tomorrow, that's all she wanted because soon enough there'd be no more next times.

A/N: Hope you liked it. Nah, don't care.

APR