Burbank — Night
Burbank at night wasn't Paris.
Didn't try to be.
Neon signs hummed lazily above storefronts, the air carrying a mix of jasmine, coffee, and passing traffic. The kind of place where nothing important was supposed to happen.
Which made it perfect.
I sat at a small outdoor table, menu half-open, checking my watch—
then immediately regretting it.
Smooth, Carmichael.
Nothing says confidence like looking like you're about to get stood up.
I leaned back, forced myself to relax.
Tonight wasn't about Carmichael.
Tonight was—
Stephanie
She appeared like she'd always been part of the scene.
Stephanie Barnett.
Hair slightly loose from a long shift, blazer over a simple dress, heels clicking softly against the pavement.
Effortless.
Real.
"Hey," she said, smiling as she reached the table. "I hope I'm not late. The ER was… well, the ER."
I stood, pulling out her chair.
"Not late at all," I said. "And honestly, I'm just impressed you're not still in scrubs."
She laughed as she sat.
"That was very tempting."
Ordering
A waiter stepped up, menus already in hand.
"Can I start you off with drinks?"
Stephanie glanced at me.
"Red wine?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. "That works."
"Two glasses of the house red," she told the waiter.
He nodded, turning to me.
"Ready to order?"
I glanced down briefly, then back up.
"Yeah. I'll take the steak—medium rare."
A beat.
"Steamed veg on the side. And… you guys do that cowboy butter, right?"
The waiter smiled. "We do."
"Perfect. I'll have that—and mash as well."
He turned to Stephanie.
"I'll have the salmon," she said. "With the lemon herb sauce. And the same veg, please."
"Of course."
Menus closed.
Decision made.
Simple.
Conversation
And then—
it just… flowed.
No pressure.
No performance.
No need to think three moves ahead.
"You weren't kidding about the ER," I said. "You look like you just walked out of a war zone."
She smirked.
"Close. Guy came in with a nail gun accident. Through the hand."
I winced.
"…Okay, yeah. You win."
She leaned forward slightly.
"But that's why I like it."
"People shooting nails into themselves?"
"No," she laughed. "Fixing things. It's like a puzzle—just… higher stakes."
That hit something familiar.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I get that."
Chuck vs Carmichael
She studied me for a second.
"You say that like you've dealt with high stakes before."
I smiled lightly.
"Think tank problems can get intense."
Not a lie.
Just not the whole truth.
Food Arrives
The plates came out steaming.
Steak perfectly seared, juices pooling just enough.
Mash smooth, rich.
The cowboy butter melting over the top, garlic and herbs hitting immediately.
I cut into it.
Perfect.
Stephanie watched me take a bite.
"Well?" she asked.
I nodded once.
"That might actually be worth the wait."
She smiled, then tasted her salmon.
"Okay, yeah. This is good."
For a moment—
it was just that.
Food.
Conversation.
Normal.
Ease
"You don't seem like a think tank guy," she said suddenly.
I looked up.
"Oh?"
She tilted her head.
"You seem like the kind of guy who'd fix my laptop for free instead of billing me for it."
I laughed.
"…Yeah. That's probably accurate."
The Call
Halfway through dessert—
my phone buzzed.
Subtle.
But I felt it like a gunshot.
Agency line.
Urgent.
Always urgent.
I flipped it face down.
Ignored it.
Tonight—
wasn't theirs.
Stephanie noticed.
Of course she did.
But she didn't ask.
Instead—
"Tell me about Ellie."
Grounded
That shifted everything.
I leaned back slightly.
"Yeah… she basically raised me."
Her expression softened.
"That explains a lot."
"Explains what?"
She smiled.
"You."
A pause.
"You've got this… grounded thing."
That landed deeper than it should've.
Because the truth was—
I wasn't sure how grounded I was anymore.
Chuck.
Carmichael.
Something in between.
But I smiled anyway.
"Thanks."
After
We walked after.
Slow.
No rush.
Streetlights soft overhead.
Her hand brushed mine—
then stayed.
And for a moment—
the world shrank.
No missions.
No threats.
No second identity.
Just—
this.
Goodnight
At her car, she paused.
That hesitation.
Small.
Real.
Then she leaned in—
kissed me.
Soft.
Simple.
And pulled back with a smile that wasn't practiced.
"That was really nice," she said.
"Yeah," I said, quieter now. "It was."
Alone
I stood there for a second after she left.
Watching the taillights fade.
Smiling like an idiot.
Because for the first time in a long time—
it felt possible.
Not the missions.
Not the chaos.
Something else.
Something normal.
Something real.
Final Thought
And maybe—
just maybe—
I could have both.
At least for now.