CPOV

White, that's all he could see after walking into the kitchen that now had a very thin layer of flour covering every surface including a blonde special agent who looked ghostly. With her once blue shirt now white with blue freckling and her sunshine colored hair like snow.

He watched her as she started pounding and folding a very innocent looking piece of dough. "So what's going on Mrs. Weston?" he asked as he walked to the island in the center of the kitchen leaving flour footprints on the tile "Not much Mr. Weston just making homemade bread for my husband, you know, me being a super, awesome wife and all".

He looked at her quizzically, "Really I didn't know you knew how to make homemade bread Sarah." Without looking up she answered "I don't, that's why the fourth one will be right".

Then he saw them, three other pans full of bread that either didn't rise or resembled charcoal. Watching Sarah play housewife was making his head spin and the fact that she was wearing an apron that had a picture of a loaf of bread and "I Rise to the Challenge" written under it, well, he almost fell down laughing and had to use the counter top for support.

Almost instantly the bread in Sarah's hands had been replaced with a large kitchen knife as she stared down at him, "What's so funny Chuck". Her blue eyes burned with the kind of intensity that was usually only reserved for when he decided to get out of the van.

"Nothing, I just never thought I would see you cooking like this; it's more of an Ellie thing." Thinking of Ellie brought the cover story the CIA was using to explain their absence to his mind.

"Sarah how are they going to explain us leaving so abruptly?" he asked while looking through the books in the study as she examined the floor plan of the house. "Someone from the CIA will leave a note in your room telling her that we eloped and are currently traveling the world."

Fear gripped Chuck, not only had he left without saying good bye to his sister; she now was under the impression that he got married without her too. In his mind he could see the roller coaster of emotions Ellie was probably going through. Starting off with being pissed about not saying goodbye, then ecstatic that he married Sarah, then back to pissed that he had gotten married without his big sister, and finally the worst; sad, afraid, and worried. He was definitely going to have to make this up to her somehow.

"So is there anyway we could call her or something Sarah, I don't want to leave it like that. She is probably starting to freak out" she grinned up at him "Yea I could probably figure something out, besides I really miss my sister in-law".

Hearing those words if they were true would of put a smile on his face but right now all he could think about was the worst case scenario, how sometime after they got back she would be reassigned and their "marriage" would take a turn for the worse and then she would leave him never to be seen again.

A doughy hand waving in front of his face snapped him back to reality. "Oh sorry, zoned out for a second" he said as she went back to kneading the dough "As I was saying, learning how to cook a variety of things would be good for me. I have never had the time or the need, so when I found an Italian cook book in one of the cabinets I figured I would cook my way through it. What do you think, could you handle the danger of being my guinea pig?" He could handle a lot of things as long as he was hers.

"I think I'll take that mission, but why do you need to learn how to cook again?" She hit the dough with a huff scattering flour all around her. "I need to learn how to cook because you can make breakfast food and combined we can make about six or seven other things that are edible. Now were going to be here for a while and were going to have to make ourselves known and engage with the community." She stopped for a breath and then continued her little rant "So that means dinner with other couples, bake sales, and whatever normal young married couples do that requires culinary knowledge."

He could see the want in her eyes, like being normal for six months or for however long they were going to be here was all she had ever wanted. Deciding not to burst her bubble because she would never be normal, either way he had long since decided that whatever she wanted and he had the power to give, would be hers.

"Ok so do you need any help in here?" Waving his hand over the disaster that was their kitchen, she smiled up at him her cheeks almost as white as her teeth "Not right now maybe when I start dinner later though" he grinned back knowing that she was going to try and do all the cleaning by herself . "Alright well I'm going to find something to do with myself till then" as he walked down the hall towards the gym.

After their first couple days here he had started to get bored and without any video games to speak of, he had to find something else to occupy his time. T.V. was out after the first couple of days because you could only watch so much and Sarah was usually to stubborn to let him help her with all the attempted cooking.

So he tried reading for a while but he could only sit on the couch and read for so long before he got antsy from the lack of movement. Then after third day he stepped into the gym that was setup in one of the other bedrooms.

Never really being into fitness or weight training he had Sarah show him how to use the equipment and she drew up a training program that would take about an hour and a half everyday.

To say that the program she put together was a little tough would be an understatement, it was more his own version of exercise hell. Sarah had decided not only to make his exercise program, but she also decided to be his personnel drill instructor complete with "Yes Ma'am and No Ma'am".

She had even given him a speech the first day about how his ass was her property in this room and there was no other god besides her inside these walls. He made the mistake of smiling and he hit the ground and was in an arm bar before he knew what happen.

"Mr. Weston did you think my speech was funny, because I didn't, I just thought I should inform you that you are mine and I will do with you as I please" if his arm hadn't been close to separating from his shoulder he would have thought that she had made a very dirty statement. All he could do was answer back, "Ok Sarah," she tugged on his arm even harder, "I mean ok Ma'am," she patted his head and let him up smiling.

"Now give me fifty push ups for pissing me off" he dropped down, he knew why she was doing this but he didn't like the fact that she really seemed to enjoy it. The rest of the session went on with more yelling and a surprisingly large amount of innuendos, but as he walked out completely an utterly exhausted she did a one eighty when she hit the door.

She wrapped her arm around his stomach letting him lean against her while he walked to the master bath. She then started the shower and came back helping him slowly take off his shirt. His muscled ached as he tried to gingerly move his arms and body enough to get his shirt off with her help. As he did she ended up being inches away from him looking up with those big sky blue eyes looking like a couple diamonds shining up at him.

He only had to move two inches and his lips would be on those gloriously soft lips of hers. "Chuck" she whispered dragging her fingers along his chest. "Yes" he whispered back a little unsure of his voice. "You stink" she said walking away with a grin that was reserved for when she teased him or when she was driving at speeds in the triple digits.

He was dumbfounded she had her cruel streaks when it came to him and his attraction to her but this was on a whole new level. "You know one day I'm going explode from all this sexual tension" she poked her head back in the door "You know I was going to play nice and just leave it at that but that sounds like a challenge Mr. Weston" She was looking way too sultry for his state of mind.

"Get out of here" he said throwing his shirt at her and instantly regretting it when his muscled seared in pain. He shut the door and turned around to the shower turning it to the coldest he could stand

"That blonde haired ninja vixen is going to be the death of me" he said to himself as he gingerly stepped into the cool stream of water.

From then on he had refused her help post workout so he could keep some semblance of sanity around her. It also helped that after the first few days the soreness wasn't as immobilizing.

So while she baked he decided to get a quick run in mostly because he hadn't really done anything all day and secondly he really didn't want to run after eating whatever she planned on having for dinner.

So he walked to his closet picking out some shorts and t-shirt while grabbing his ipod. He jogged back to the treadmill he set it to the speed Sarah had told him he needed to run at and set his distance "Two miles should be enough" as he put in his ear buds, looking at the chart she made showing him where he should be in each week of his training. He looked at week twenty four, the "goal week" as Sarah called it, twenty five miles in three and a half hours.

Granted the "stamina" innuendos were rampant, but even with those; if Sarah thought he could do it he was at least going to try. Besides it felt good to have a goal that didn't involve a video game.

So he stepped onto the treadmill and started settling into his normal pace letting the sound of his feet hitting the treadmill and the music relax him. He was starting to figure out why people liked to work out. It was surprisingly therapeutic being alone with his thoughts while his breath acted as his own personal metronome.

Most of his thoughts included Sarah and her seemingly numerous new split personalities. Some days she was Martha Stewart others she was a drill sergeant from hell, then throw in insatiably sexy flirt and then a painful platonic nun. If he wasn't insanely in love with this woman he would thoroughly question his sanity.

The thing that boggled his mind through all of this was Sarah's version of Martha Stewart. The others he could explain away, but cooking and baking were completely unexplainable. He might not be a super agent but when it came to Sarah he knew when she was holding back or lying.

The cooking wasn't about maintaining a cover; it was about her fitting into the role of what she thought a normal housewife would do. It was the one fault he couldn't stand with her, how no matter the number of times he proclaimed his love, she thought he wanted normal more importantly she thought he wanted her to be normal.

You can't fall in love with a CIA agent and expect normal it doesn't work that way. You grab love while you can; you fight for it and ring every ounce of joy, hope, and happiness out of it. Why doesn't she get that my love doesn't come with prerequisites, it's just hers.

He had to get his mind off of this subject; the love talk was down the road once her personalities balanced out again. As the treadmill slowed signaling the cool down setting, he grabbed a towel and hopped off enjoying the only slight burn in his muscles.

He walked back to the kitchen to check on Sarah finding her drawing shapes in the flour on the counter. "So how do you think this loaf is going to come out?" she looked up still covered in flour and seeming not to care at all.

"Good, I think I finally got it right. How was the workout?" She said looking at his sweat stained shirt. "Good I'm finally getting to the point where I'm functional afterwards" she smiled forcing him to do the same "Chuck I was wondering, how you would feel about painting a few rooms in the house?"

Not really having an opinion on the matter "Sure, I guess, all the white in this house is kind of boring" he said walking to the shower.

The Next Day SPOV

She was ecstatic, after Chuck agreed to help her paint the house they decided to wake up early Saturday so that they good get a full days work in. They were sitting in Chuck's Kansas appropriate F-150 with all twenty of their sample paint cans and a few paint brushes.

She would be the first to admit that color schemes and other DIY things like that were not her strong suit but she had never had the choice. When she was a kid they moved so much that she never had the time to paint her room and when she got older she was either on mission or in the CIA provided apartment that she was never in long enough to care.

That was all about to change, she had control of what color she was going to wake up to every morning and she was not about to pass it up. So as Chuck drove through town and out into the country to their house, she looked through at all of the colors. She would take one, get the color set in her mind and then she would picture it in rooms threw out the house.

She had Chucks blues for the bedroom, greens for their office, and yellows for the living room. She had been wondering why Chuck had been so adamant about the bedroom being blue.

"Chuck" she said causing him to glance over at her "Why did you want the bedroom to be blue?" He looked at her pondering the question for a second and smiling.

"I read in one of Ellie's decorating books that your bedroom should be your favorite color" thinking the last time they had couple's game night it was green but she didn't feel like pushing.

"So are you excited about painting Chuck?" she said while trying to discern the difference between firelight and grove yellow.

"I guess, I'm not really looking forward to the painting part but choosing the colors might be fun" looking like he said it more for her sake than his.

She went back to her colors as they made the turn onto their long drive way and into their two car garage. As she grabs the brushes and he took the paint, she looked over at her new cover car.

It was a blue Mazda RX-8, there was nothing wrong with it, but she couldn't help feel the pang of want for her Porsche. Leaving her new car behind, she walked into the house finding Chuck separating out all of the samples into their own little groups.

"So which room do you want to start with?" she asked taking the plastic off the brushes and throwing it in the trash.

"The living room, were already here plus we don't have too much out of the way" walking to the nearest wall she started talking down the picture frames and setting them lightly on the couch closest to her.

She didn't know how Chuck felt about the pictures but when he was busy doing something else and she was alone with her thoughts she would let her mind run wild and pretend that these were actual pictures of her life.

Letting herself build memories for each picture, who took them, where they were, what the names of the people in the background were. The current two she held in her hand were her favorite of all the pictures in the house, the first was a picture of Chuck and herself all curled up in a recliner. She looked to be asleep and content in his arms, while he played with her hair and kissing her lightly on the forehead. It was a picture of love and she felt sappy for saying it but each time she looked at it and thought about the fake memory she had made up. It made the emotional walls she had put up just a little weaker, a little more fragile and it brought her closer to telling Chuck she hated to hide.

The second picture was a little different especially since Chuck wasn't in it. It was a picture of her and four other women all of whom were wearing the same sorority shirt. She had never really thought about it at Harvard, with her course schedule and introverted attitude it was just easier to be another face in the crowd.

That and her daddy issues made it where she couldn't understand friendship. She liked the second picture though because it gave her hope, that if Chuck could help her fix the emotionally stagnant person she was that maybe in time; she could have friends and slowly let people into her new life.

She set down the photos grabbing the brushes and a paint sample taking the spot next to Chuck on the wall. Handing him one and taking a sample she opened it and started painting a square like the man at the store said.

She looked at her work admiring the color then taking a glance at Chuck and what was supposed to be his square.

"Chuck the guy said to paint a square not smiley faces" she said feigning anger but it wasn't lasting it was so Chuck.

"Yea I know, but come on is that not the best smiley face you have seen" he said smiling making her breath hitch and her mind to wander to, "Stupid nerd and his stupid smile making me half useless." "Alright well I'm going to go get some water before we start with the other colors," he called over his shoulder walking into the garage.

They continued their painting in each room with Sarah painting squares and Chuck painting different shapes each time until they decided on which colors they liked. They choose golden sand in the living room, instrumental green in the office and charcoal blue for the bedroom.

So they measured and calculated how much paint they would need heading back into town grabbing some food. When they got to the hardware store again the bought everything the paint guy said to; since neither had ever painted before, ending up with about half the store in Chuck's truck.

So as they grabbed their things and setup their plastic in the living room preparing to paint Sarah whispered "Thanks for helping me with all of this" he looked up smiling like he always did when he looked at her "Your welcome, it is my house too you know".

She turned to her section of the wall and started rolling on the paint slowly covering as much as she could reach.

"Sarah" he whispered from behind him, as she turned around she saw yellow and felt the cold sticky substance all over her face.

"CHUCK" she screamed wiping the paint from her eyes. Looking down she found him literally rolling on the floor he was laughing so hard.

"What's so funny Chuck" giving him a murderous glare and putting her hands on her hips.

"I……..sor…..ry. ….Sarah" he said gasping for air unable to form a complete word. She couldn't take it, if she was going to be covered in paint it was only fair he would be too. Taking her roller she started at his stomach and made her way up to his head.

"Sarah" he said spitting, "my mouth was open," feeling good about her handy work all she said was "Serves you rights butthead."

Then it happened, much faster than she thought possible for Chuck, he was off the ground and in the air taking her down to the floor. They wrestled around as Chuck grabbed the paint tray and poured it onto her hair. She screamed enraged, but as she looked down into that warm smiling face and those chocolate eyes something happened to cool all her anger and cause her to do something unexpected.

She kissed him full heartedly and without thought, it felt so right and when they broke away to catch their breath she sat there straddling him looking into those big brown eyes again.

"I'm sorry" she said as she ran into their bathroom silently cursing. Why Sarah, you can't just kiss him like that, I mean hell you're confused why you did it and you know you love him, what is he going to think?

"Alright I can't keep doing this without telling him" she said as she conversed with her conscience. You have been denying your feelings for three years and now your own, for at least the next six months without any CIA interference, not a single mission, and no Casey.

"Talk about perfect" Alright so are we agreed its time to tell him and try to make this work. "Yes, lets go talk" taking a deep breath she smoothed out her shirt. Sarah your face and hair are covered in paint how about you take a shower before you tell him you love him.

"Good point, god this is going to take forever to get out of my hair!" He's worth it; he has always been worth it and so much more.

"I know I just hope I am" she stepped out of her clothes and prepared for her shower with a new resolve. She didn't think she was worth it; with all the skeletons in her closet, but if he did she wasn't going to argue.