Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, or anything to do with this wonderful, wonderful program.

A/N: Okay, so a while back, I wrote a little piece called Adorable Psycho. It very quickly became the most reviewed oneshot I've ever done, which led me to a simple conclusion: People like really crazy, homicidal Sarah. So in response, I came up with a few more situations in which Sarah solves things in her own crazy way. I can't take all the credit for it, though. The great MXPW certainly helped me come up with some ways for Sarah to act the fool. He's a creative dude, that guy, and I think it would do you good to check out some of his work, particularly the wildly popular (and rightfully so!) Chuck vs. The Double Agent. Hopefully you'll find this series entertaining. And yes, I said series. There will be more to come, eventually. Hope you like it, and please review. Thanks!

Adorable Psycho Meets the DMV

Sarah hated lines. Just the very premise of having to be stuck behind the same stupid people for an indeterminate amount of time was enough to infuriate her. Add to that the minutes, or in this case, hours it took away from her life that she could be doing something more productive, and she was in pure hell.

During her teenage years, she'd always had false identification, compliments of her father. Then once she joined the CIA, she was out of the country so much that she really didn't need to keep up with her license. The agency usually handled all that stuff for her anyway.

But now, after having been on this assignment for over two years, Sarah was forced to go to the DMV for the first time in her life. And she hated it!

An hour and a half already she'd stood in line, and that line never seemed to move. If anything, it seemed to grow longer. Even after she'd followed Chuck's advice to get there early. She came at 6:05. And they only opened at 6 o'clock! But still, when she got there, the line had been extended almost out the door.

Sarah's place in line was behind a very obese Caucasian male, with thinning hair and a dirty white t-shirt. He kept coughing, and much to Sarah's chagrin, he never covered his mouth. And it pissed her off that he kept trying to sneak glances at her breasts. And it didn't help that he smelled like cabbage.

Behind her was a middle-aged woman of Asian decent. That lady seemed nice enough. She didn't stare at Sarah, and she didn't smell bad. And the other woman didn't try to start up conversation, which was always a plus in Sarah's book.

Finally, after two hours of waiting, Sarah got to the front of the line. She walked up to the open window…and promptly got yelled at.

"I did not say for you to come forward yet!" shouted the woman behind the counter.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah said apologetically. "Since I'm here, though."

"You think you're special, Blondie? Get back behind the sign!" the woman said, pointing toward the "please wait here" sign.

Sarah, taken aback by the outburst, backpedaled back to her place in line. She stood there for a few more minutes, and as the time passed, she became less shocked, and more angry. What gave that bitch the right to yell at her?

"Now, you may come forward," the bitch behind the counter said gruffly.

The DMV worker was not the picture of attractiveness. Sarah reasoned that the government must save all of the good looking women for the line of work she was in, and stick the trolls in menial jobs like giving people their license.

"Fine," Sarah said with a huff. She pulled out her driver's license and slapped it down on the counter. "I need to get this renewed."

"Where's the form?" the woman asked.

"Form?" Sarah asked.

"There are renewal forms back there," the worker said, pointing to the back of the building. "You need to have that filled out when you get to the front of the line."

"Oh, alright," Sarah said. "I'll just go get one, and I'll be right back."

"Back of the line," the woman said plainly.

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked.

"You need to go fill it out, and get back in the back of the line. There are not cuts here, sweetie," the woman said, her voice grating on Sarah's last nerve.

So with murder in her eyes, Sarah went to the back of the building and filled out a renewal form and got back in the line. Two hours later, she was finally back at the front. This time she waited to be called, but not without staring down the heinous bitty that had given her such trouble before.

"Got it now, Blondie?" the woman asked mockingly, a snide grin on her face.

"Yes," Sarah spat, slapping the form and her license down on the counter.

"Huh," the woman said, inspecting the document.

"What is it?" Sarah asked through clenched teeth.

"You didn't need this form after all. You just need to do a routine eye test."

"You mean to tell me," Sarah said, her jaw tight, the tension in her face obvious even to the casual observer. "You mean to tell me that I just wasted two hours that I could be spending at work, or with my boyfriend standing in line for no reason at all?" She was trying really, really hard not to yell.

"Yep, that's pretty much what's going on," the woman replied, clearly not able to see death when it was standing only inches in front of her, because that's when Sarah lost it.

"You bitch!" Sarah shouted.

"Ma'am," the woman said sweetly. "You're going to have to lower your voice."

"I'll – I'll lower you!" Sarah said. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but it felt good to say, in the moment.

"Ms. Walker, if you don't refrain from this behavior, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Go ahead," Sarah said. "Ask me to leave. Doesn't mean I will."

Maryann Wood. That was the bitch's name. And the bitch had made a huge mistake, too. You just don't eighty-six Sarah fucking Walker and get away with it. Especially when said Sarah fucking Walker had access to your employer, and thereby could know everything about you before you got off work.

So the blonde CIA agent sat on a hill overlooking the DMV, a set of binoculars in hand, and watched Maryann leaving her shit job at 5:06 PM. She watched as Maryann realized she had a flat back-left tire. She watched Maryann throw up her hands in despair. She watched Maryann pop her trunk to retrieve the spare. And then she watched as…

BOOM!

Game night at Ellie's was always a joyous occasion. During their lives as spies, Sarah never really felt like she and Chuck were a real couple, but when they hung out with his sister, everything just seemed so fantastically, wonderfully normal.

Such was the case that evening, as the delivery pizza had been served, the drinks – Sarah with her customary vodka tonic – and the games had begun.

Some ridiculous sitcom was on the television, but no one was paying it any mind. Sarah, in particular wasn't. The game of choice was Pictionary, and although Chuck and Sarah sucked at the game, Sarah was still enjoying herself because she got to cuddle, and laugh, and bask in the presence of her boyfriend.

Then the peace was broken. A news bulletin popped up on the screen.

"One person is dead after a car bomb detonated outside an LA area Department of Motor Vehicles," the newswoman said.

"Sarah," Chuck said, his face as white as a ghost. "Weren't you at that DMV today?"

"You were?!" Ellie asked in a panic. "Oh, thank God they didn't get you! Who would do something like this?!"

Sarah ducked her head, as a blush started rising to her cheeks. "I don't know," she said shyly.

"Sarah?" Chuck asked. "Can I talk to you in private?" Chuck was clearly trying to hide the tension Sarah could easily see in his features. His jaw was clenched, and he had that adorable wide-eyed expression that she usually loved. She wasn't happy to see it this time, however.

"Um, sure," she said, standing slowly from the couch.

Sarah walked as slowly as she could to a back bedroom. For the world, she felt like a prisoner on death row taking her final march, and in a way, that's what she feared she was. What would Chuck say? Clearly he knew what she'd done. Would he break up with her? That would kill Sarah.

Sarah walked into the dark room, followed closely by Chuck. He shut the door behind him and turned on the light.

"Chuck," Sarah began.

"No, Sarah, you're going to tell me what happened. Please, tell me that wasn't your doing."

Sarah couldn't meet Chuck's gaze, even though she knew it incriminated her further. She just couldn't stand to see the disappointment on his face. "Well, she was being really mean to me," Sarah said lamely.

"That's no excuse, Sarah!" Chuck said in an angry whisper. She could tell that he wanted to yell at her, and that she was only being spared that fate by the close proximity of Ellie and Devon.

"But – but –"

"No buts, Sarah. This is unacceptable." Chuck now had his arms crossed, and he was tapping his foot. Sarah hadn't been dressed down like this – ever, really. Her father never bothered to correct her errors in judgment. Not like this at least. And Sarah hated the feeling of having upset Chuck.

"I'm really sorry," she said. "Please –" she swallowed. "Please don't break up with me," she begged.

Then Chuck's relaxed slightly. Some of the anger he'd shown previously melted away, if only a little. "Sarah," he sighed. "I'm not going to break up with you."

"You're not?" she asked hopefully, managing to finally look Chuck in the eyes. "You promise?"

Chuck sighed again. "Come'ere," he said, pulling her into a hug. "Sarah, I love you. And I'll never leave you, but you really have to try harder than this. I thought we had a deal?"

Sarah enjoyed the feeling of Chuck's arms wrapped around her for a moment more before responding. "Okay, Chuck. I promise. I'll really, really try not to kill people anymore."

"Thank you," he said simply.

"Unless they really, really deserve it," she said under her breath.

"Hey!" Chuck said.

A/N: You guys are awesome. Peace.