Chuck vs the Apology

A/N: Odd as it may seem, this is how A Common Spy Problem started. Though I like what I've actually posted a lot more, this one had it's moments, plus I promised the guys on Twitter that I'll post it. It is a rough draft as I'm pressed for time at the moment, so put it down to drabble. Please keep in mind that it is unbeta'd – Nervert is under strict instructions to write the next chapter of The Revenge of the Bartowski. I don't own Chuck. Vivian would've accidently used her own DNA in the Norseman if I did.

A knock broke the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of her fists hitting the punching bag. Sarah delivered a final blow before she dropped her hands. There were only two people who ever knocked on her door. Bryce didn't use to, but when he had found himself pinned to the wall with a knife blade pressing into his neck the last time he just let himself in, he had learned. Chuck always knocked. Odds were it wasn't Bryce. Not that it mattered. She wasn't in the mood to see anyone. Least of all, her asset.

Sarah kept really quiet, hoping that if she ignored him, he would give up and leave. It wasn't her lucky day. Heck, it wasn't her lucky week. He knocked again.

"Sarah? Please open the door?"

She ignored his request. Instead she sunk down on the bed, listening for his retreating footsteps. Chuck was a pretty patient guy, but no one would linger in front of a closed door for too long. Knowing him, he had already spent a bit of time pacing the hall. He always did that. She knew he was usually nervous when he showed up unannounced and he needed the time to gather some courage before knocking to not let it show. But she knew. She knew because she knew him. At least, she thought she did, but the Chuck she'd dealt with these past few days was nothing like the man she'd come to know. She didn't even like him all that much at this point. Ironically enough she realized that right around the same time she had finally admitted to herself that she loved him. Somewhere between that shower and barging through his bedroom door only to find wrinkled sheets, she could no longer deny that what she felt had a name.

But she was not about to forgive him for his behavior. The way he acted and the things he said to her stung and she'd done nothing to deserve it. Quite the opposite in fact. She stood back and allowed him the opportunity to make things right with Jill. She had practically committed treason by letting him get away with valuable intel to 'save' her. She had even explained the underwear incident to Jill. In return she had been accused of being a stalker and a robot. So right now, she was definitely not in the mood to talk to him.

"Go away, Chuck."

He must have been born with bad timing, because he chose that moment to not back down like he'd usually do. "Just give me five minutes. Please?"

The note of pleading in his voice caused her to melt a little, but she quickly strengthened her resolve. She decided to head for the bathroom as it would be easier to ignore him over a running shower, but then she heard one of the neighbors berating him for making such a noise. Sighing in resignation, she called out "Fine, just give me a sec."

Sarah headed over to her drawers and grabbed the first oversized t-shirt she could find. Chuck had seen her in less than her workout gear before, but right now she needed a barrier, even if it was just a thin cotton one. The last thing she wanted to remember was how his hands went from washing the offending powder off of her to just touching her, brushing his fingers over her skin. She tucked on the hem of the shirt to cover as much of her legs as possible, and then realized it was one of Chuck's. That would definitely send the wrong message. She pulled it over her head and bundled it back into the drawer.

"Sarah? Are you okay in there?"

She knew she couldn't stall any longer. She took a deep breath before opening the door. The sooner she got rid of him, the sooner she could get back to the ritual she needed for burying her emotions. Something that came naturally since that day she saw her father being carted away in handcuffs and Graham finding her in the woods, had become harder ever since she first set foot in the BuyMore.

Sarah folded her arms over her chest to conceal as much of herself as she could and fixed Chuck with her deadliest glare. Her face didn't soften when she spotted the largest bouquet of gardenias she'd ever seen. His eyes flicked to her bare midriff before locking gazes with her. That did not help his case. Just because he'd finally accepted the truth about Jill didn't give him the right to start ogling her again. She was nobody's second choice. Not even Chuck Bartowski's.

"Sarah," he started and swallowed audibly, "I'm so sorry." He held the flowers out to her, but she didn't make a move to take them. Nor did she invite him in. He dropped the bouquet to his side. "Look, I've been a jerk, I realize that now…and just because I didn't object to you giving that speech instead of Jill doesn't mean I care less about you, but at least you got out in time, which was good, I mean if you didn't then I could have tested my theory about the antidote on you…kissing you is so much better than kissing Casey…" When she merely raised an eyebrow, Chuck stopped babbling. "Okay, what I wanted to say is that I'm sorry I ran off with Jill and made you worry. And I'm sorry I seemed okay with you taking her place at the conference. And I'm really, really, really sorry I called you a robot."

"Is that all?" she asked coldly. She knew they'd had to discuss what had happened if they were to have a semi-functional working relationship, but it was going to take another few rounds on the heavy bag before she'd be remotely ready to do that.

"I'm also sorry I was such a jerk, like I said, I shouldn't have treated you that way…"

"Are you sorry you slept with Jill?" The question had slipped out. Chuck's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could respond, she interjected. "I can't deal with you right now, Chuck."

She moved to close the door, but he grabbed it. "Then when? Look, I don't mean to be pushy, but I hate it when you're hurting. Please tell me what I can do to fix this. I'll do anything."

Sarah felt her resolve soften a bit. It was harder to be mad at him when he was being sincere, but this time it was going to take more than a few eloquent words or adorable ramblings to win her over. He was going to have to work for it.

"Cook me dinner. Tonight. Your place." She had a feeling she might regret this, and not just because according to Ellie, he could hardly boil water.

Chuck's face lit up. "Okay. I can do that. Let's say at around seven? Ellie and Awesome are at the hospital, so we'll have the place to ourselves. Well, and Casey."

"Seven," Sarah confirmed and closed the door. There was an immediate knock. She opened it again and shot him a questioning look. He simply held the flowers out to her.

At exactly ten minutes to seven Sarah pulled her Porsche up to the curb. She grabbed the box of cigars off the passenger seat and made her way to Casey's door. She'd barely knocked when he opened. She held out the box. "It's a bribe," she answered his questioning grunt.

"You have an hour." He snatched the box from her hand and disappeared back into the apartment. She made a mental note to remind Chuck to apologize to Casey too. Having to explain to your superiors that the most valuable piece of intelligence the country had ran off with a woman didn't look good on your record. It was even worse when it turned out said woman was a Fulcrum agent.

Sarah considered hanging out at the fountain until just after seven when she heard an explosion from Chuck's apartment. Casey sped out of his, right past her and kicked the door open. Sarah had her weapon drawn and followed him inside, her heart in her throat.

The first thing she registered was Casey lowering his gun, giving Chuck a once over. "Bartowski, what are you wearing?"

Chuck glared at him from the kitchen. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to say balsamic glazed chicken?"

"Chuck, what happened?" Sarah asked before Chuck and Casey could get into it.

"The Hamburger Helper stopped helping." Disgusted, he pulled a piece of chicken from his hair and flung it in the direction of the sink.

Casey eyed the mess and turned on his heel. "Pity I don't have this on tape," he mumbled as he closed the door behind him.

Chuck turned to Sarah with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid dinner is shrapnel."

"It's okay. I didn't really come here for the food."

"I figured, given that you've asked me to cook." She responded with a small smile. "Look, just give me a minute to change and we can order take-out or something and talk."

"Maybe we should clean up first."

Chuck sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Which mess?"

"Kitchen," Sarah answered as she tucked her gun back into her purse.

They worked in silence for a while before Chuck suddenly spoke up. "I should have handled it differently."

Sarah straightened, stretching out her back. "Yeah, we probably should've started with the ceiling before cleaning the floor."

"Guess I was distracted," Chuck shrugged, "but that's not what I meant."

He twisted from his knees to sit on the floor. Sarah threw her rag in the sink and joined him. Now was probably as good a time as any. She pulled her legs up and kept her eyes on the cupboard in front of them.

"Chuck, I understand that you want a real relationship and I know you realize how hard it is under the circumstances, but next time, if you could be a little more tolerant, it would really help. Casey and I are just doing our jobs." It was what she was expected to say – the handler controlling the asset – but because the lines had gotten a little blurry along the way, she didn't leave it at that. "And if you could maybe not rub my nose in it, that would help too." She felt Chuck's eyes on her, but didn't meet his gaze.

"There's not going to be a next time, Sarah. I think I'm done with dating for a while." Sarah didn't know if that statement was supposed to make her happy or sad.

"Chuck, can I give you some advice?" She noticed him nodding in her peripheral vision. "You need to stop living in the past. You've allowed Jill to hold you back all these years and for what? She had moved on, albeit not to bigger and better things, but still. Don't give her or anyone else that kind of power over you. In the end, you are the one it hurts the most."

"In all fairness, it's not Jill's fault that I turned out to be a loser."

Instinctively Sarah spun her head around to face him. "You're not a loser, Chuck Bartowski. You are the most decent human being I've ever met and I've been around the world, so I don't want you to say that ever again. Don't you even dare think that." Her vehement response had shocked Chuck and he slid away slightly. It took Sarah by surprise as well, but she didn't let it show. Then Chuck frowned.

"Sarah, do you like me? As in like me like me?"

Sarah's eyes dropped for a moment before catching his again. The speech she had rehearsed a few weeks ago popped into her mind. She never got to tell him how she felt, as he had decided to go first that night, effectively breaking up with her before they'd even started. Though it didn't quite fit with the way he had kissed her during seduction training, not to mention swinging of a roof to save her, she had refrained from bringing it up again. And to her disappointment, Chuck had done so as well. Until now.

She took a deep breath before taking the plunge. Holding his gaze, she kept her answer simple. "I do."

A brilliant smile broke over Chuck's face and then it faltered. "But there's not a damn thing we can do about it, is there? As long as the Intersect is in my head, you're my handler and it's against the rules. And if by some miracle I do get it out, you'll be on the first plane to your next mission."

Again Sarah couldn't help but think that his timing sucked. Of all the moments to realize the reality of the situation…to remind her just how complicated their relationship was…

When words failed, she did the only thing she knew. Scooting closer, careful to avoid the debris that they still had to take care off, she cupped Chuck's face with both hands and kissed him. It was not as urgent as the first one in front of the faux bomb, nor marked with the barely restrained passion of the second, but it held a promise. A promise that one day they would get their chance.

A/N: I'm gonna end it there as my English gets worse after 1 am. I would like to use this opportunity to thank everyone for the Awesome Awards nominations – it is quite awesome of you guys – and I wanted to let you know that I am making some headway with those review replies I've promised. If your PM is enabled and you haven't received one yet, just hang in there, all should return to normal on 2 June.