I was in Copenhagen with Chuck, Sarah, Casey and Morgan. We were in a hotel suite; Chuck and I were in one of the bedrooms on the floor, propped up on a bunch of pillows and watching a movie. Sarah was puttering around, getting ready for the mission. Casey and Morgan were in the living room, doing some sort of mission-related stuff. Chuck reached over with one finger and stroked my face a couple of times; the tip of of his fingers just brushing the corner of my mouth. I was having trouble breathing - both because I was overcome with emotion that he was actually touching me and getting pissed off because he was still with Sarah. It was obvious throughout the dream that we had a strong connection and that Sarah had been taking him for granted.
I had to get out of there. I got up and ran out of the room. While I was getting to the elevators and running through the hotel to get the hell out of there, Chuck walked into the living room to face Morgan, who has a very disapproving look on his face. He says to Chuck, "What are you doing, man? Don't tell me you don't know she's totally in love with you. Or that something is definitely going on with the two of you. Look, I don't know what's going on with you and Sarah or why you seem to be ok with being taken for granted, but you need to do something about this before your life turns into some dark and twisted version of a John Hughes movie." Morgan looks out of the window and sees me emerge from the hotel, still running, and head off down the street. "She's out there alone, Chuck. And there's a pretty pissed off weapons dealer out there."
Chuck grab his shoes and starts to put them on. Sarah comes over with that exasperated "god, what is he doing - now I have to put a stop to this" look on her face. She says, "Chuck, you can't just go out there. We have a mission. She doesn't matter."
Chuck replies as he heads out the door, "We wouldn't have gotten this far without her. And she does matter. You should know that." He leaves, and runs after me.
I'm running through the streets, twisting my way through a maze of tightly packed shops. I run into an old used bookstore, where the old and jaded proprietor is glaring at the American tourists pawing the books and murmuring how quaint the store is. I look at the counter and see a box on top filled with thin white cotton gloves, much like a box of peds in a shoe store. I put on a pair and walk to a bookshelf marked Architecture. I run my fingers lightly down the spines as I read the titles, approaching the ancient texts with due reverence.
My back is turned to the door, so I don't see when Chuck catches up to me. He stands in the doorway, watching as the proprietor approaches me. The proprietor thanks me in Danish for being respectful of the books and asks with what he can assist me. I reply, in Danish, that my grandfather grew up in Copenhagen and used to tell me stories about the house in which he grew up. I explain where the house used to be, what the building used to look like. The proprietor smiles and tells me that the building is still intact, but it is now owned by a German businessman. I ask him if there is any record with details of the building or blueprints; I tell him that I would like to have a model of the home built for my grandfather's ninetieth birthday and would love to present him with as accurate a gift as possible. The proprietor sifts through some papers and books in the back, and emerges with some blueprints of the original building and the surrounding streets/buildings. He tells me with a chuckle that now I may build my grandfather a model of the whole neighborhood. I thank him and ask him what I owe for the blueprints. He grasps my hand and says that there will be no charge, it has been his pleasure conversing in Danish with someone so knowledgeable who obviously loves books and her family so much. I thank him again and turn to leave. I see Chuck, who follows me out the door.
Once we're out of site, Chuck pulls me into an alley. My back is to the wall of one of the buildings. He takes the blueprints out of my arms and looks at them. He smiles and says, "You were amazing in there."
I smile and say, "So I was right? This will help us find them?"
Chuck nods. "With these blueprints we can get in, get the weapons and get out. And if we're lucky, we can catch an arms dealer at the same time."
He takes my hand for a moment and gives me a thoughtful look. "And then we should talk. Ok?"
I nod, and I am hopeful.
