3

Burbank, California

As they got closer to his—their—apartment, he made an unexpected turn, and Sarah frowned. Where was he going?

She relaxed a minute later when she realized he was just pulling into the nearest grocery store lot. He parked, then got out and waited while she found a spot nearby. When she walked up to him, he smiled and held out his hand, and she took it with a matching smile.

"What would you say to risotto?" he asked, turning and beginning to walk beside her.

Something tickled at the back of her mind and she frowned. "I somehow expected...something pepperoni?"

He gave her a quick look. "You want pepperoni?"

"No..." she answered, still frowning slightly. "You like it, though, don't you?"

His grin made her melt a little. "Well, pepperoni chicken, yeah, that's my favorite dish."

She had remembered something! She almost skipped as they entered the supermarket. Chuck laughed and snagged a shopping cart, releasing her hand.

"I don't eat it as much as I used to," he said.

"Why not?"

"Well," he gave her an amused look, "when I started taking my spy training seriously, you made me improve my diet. Pepperoni is comfort food, but it isn't exactly healthy."

"Ah." She eyed him. "You could get away with a lot now, you know. I'd be none the wiser."

"Nah," he said, pushing the shopping cart along. "I'm in the best shape of my life. I like the man you've inspired me to become."

She smiled.

"So, risotto?" he asked.

"Sure." She looked around the unfamiliar store. "Where to?"

Chuck hummed and pointed, but just as they struck off in that direction, a plump older woman wearing a store uniform and an apron sailed up to them with a huge grin. She put her hands on her hips.

"Ah! The Bartowskis! Where have you two been?"

Sarah blinked, but Chuck just laughed.

"Hey, Magnolia," he said. "We just had some... family stuff to take care of."

Magnolia's gaze switched speculatively to Sarah, and the older woman took Sarah in with a glint in her expression. "Family stuff, huh?"

"Yeah," Chuck answered easily, but Sarah could hear a certain note in his tone. He was practiced at deflecting. "So how's Dahlia? Has she had the baby yet?"

Magnolia sighed and shook her head, but her proud grin belied her annoyance. "That is one stubborn grandbaby! He's two weeks late. She's going to pop any day now!"

Sarah hid a wince with a polite smile.

"I'm glad you're both okay," Magnolia said. "When nobody had seen either of you for weeks, we all started to worry and pray for you."

"Thanks," Chuck answered warmly. "We're fine. Just settling back into the swing of things. Speaking of which, where are the pine nuts now? Martin mentioned they'd been moved when you guys shifted the store layout." Chuck grinned. "We're making your chicken risotto with kale, pine nuts, and bacon tonight."

Magnolia beamed, eyeing Sarah again. "Excellent! That's good eats, especially if you double up on the bacon. Aisle seven, back, um... left side." She pointed.

"Great, thanks," Chuck said, as he and Sarah started walking in the indicated direction. "Tell Dahlia we hope she has a safe and healthy delivery soon!"

"Will do," Magnolia replied, giving them a wave. "You two have a lovely evening now, you hear?"

Sarah smiled back and waved. When the older woman was out of earshot, Sarah leaned close to Chuck. "What was that about?"

He glanced at her. "Hmm?"

"Why are people at a local supermarket keeping tabs on us?" Sarah lowered her voice. "There isn't another secret base under this store, is there?"

"Oh." Chuck laughed. "No—it's—Ellie and I have just been shopping here since I was in junior high, when we moved to Echo Park. Magnolia noticed it was always just Ellie and me, and eventually figured out that our parents weren't there to take care of us, so she kind of adopted us and made sure we had good food to eat. Gave us recipes. Asked after us. Tried to fatten us up when she thought we looked too thin." He chuckled and glanced at Sarah. "Actually, she still does that. Don't worry. She likes you."

Sarah was about respond to that when they turned into an aisle and someone else spoke first.

"Hey, Chuck, Sarah," said a gray-haired man, who was putting price labels on boxes. He gave them a smile. "Nice to see you back."

"Hey, Martin," Chuck answered. "You gonna watch the game tonight?"

"You know I am," Martin shot back with a grin. "What else are Monday nights for? And don't tell me Guitar Hero marathons. In my day, we didn't play plastic pretend guitars, we—"

"—played real ones and made real music," Chuck finished along with him. "Yeah, yeah, I know. How's that band coming along?"

"We're playing at Mack's on Friday night!" Martin announced. "Finally convinced him to give us a shot. I mean, if he can give crazy Indian lesbians and drug addicts a chance, I said why not us?"

Sarah blinked. Crazy Indian lesbians? It made her think of something... someone?... but she couldn't remember who it was.

"Why not, indeed," Chuck echoed sagely. "What time? If we can, maybe we'll stop by to hear you guys play a set."

"Nine," Martin said immediately. "But come at eight-thirty and say you're with us and you'll get a free drink. Tell your friends about us! But, ah, not about the free drinks. That's just for you."

Chuck laughed. "Okay." He took Sarah's hand as they moved on. "If we're free, we'll come by."

They made it to the end of the aisle without running into anyone else, and found the pine nuts.

"So... this 'healthy' recipe has bacon in it?" Sarah asked with an arched eyebrow, as they moved on to the next ingredient. She let Chuck choose the path and just enjoyed being along for the ride.

Chuck smirked. "Well, yeah, but we don't eat it very often. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all."

As they gathered each ingredient, and bought a few other things that Chuck said they were running low on, Sarah was content to watch him interact with various store employees and even the occasional regular customer. She trailed along in his wake, smiling and feeling outside of it all, even as he—and these friendly strangers—made an effort to include her. It was so strange to not be in a rush to buy food, to not be avoiding eye contact with everyone. It was strange to walk through this world where, with him, what she saw was what she got. This wasn't an undercover op; there was no mark, no mission, no purpose other than to spend a weekday evening buying groceries so they could go home and make a meal together.

He seemed to know everyone and they seemed to know him—and her. She did her best to return their smiles, but she could tell that some of them were noticing something was off. Chuck usually stepped in to gracefully deflect, and she was grateful, but she found that she didn't mind the inquiries so much. It was nice to be cared about. It took her a little while to realize why people were giving her slightly worried but hopeful looks, though. Word had apparently gotten around by the time Chuck and Sarah made it to the butcher's counter at the back of the store.

"Hey, congratulations, Ms. Sarah!" the young guy behind the nearby fish counter said, waving at her.

Confused but not wanting to be impolite, she smiled and waved back, then watched when an older woman pushing a cart behind the counter suddenly paused and jabbed the guy in the side while hissing something under her breath.

"Hey, what's—?" the young guy protested, while the older woman shot Sarah a nervous smile. Then the young guy looked at Sarah and his face went slack with a big 'oh'. "Oh, nev—never mind."

Chuck, who had been chatting with the butcher, looked over and arched an eyebrow. "What did I tell you about hitting on my wife, Jeremy?"

Jeremy paled and then reddened. "But I, I wasn't—"

"Here," the older woman said, shoving a container of something into his arms. "Go separate these and trim off the scales."

Jeremy shot Sarah one last look of apology—he was kind of cute, in a hapless way—and quickly disappeared into the back room.

"What was that about?" Chuck asked, smiling as he took a package from the butcher and dropped it into their cart.

Sarah frowned. "He... congratulated me. I'm not sure."

"Congratulated you?" Chuck glanced over at the fish counter, caught the older woman's eye, and gave her a 'what's going on?' look. The woman rolled her eyes, then mouthed 'Pregnant?'

Sarah's eyes widened. Chuck glanced back at her in amused apology, then quickly shook his head at the older woman, who looked like she hadn't expected anything different. She shook her head in exasperation, but smiled at them.

"Hey, Janice," Chuck said, as they strolled up to the fish counter. "Good to see you."

"You, too, Chuck," Janice replied in a dry tone. "Have a good night. I'll make sure to put the kibosh on Magnolia's excitement."

As they walked toward the checkout lines, there was an odd sort of fluttering in Sarah's stomach at the thought that she might be pregnant. It wasn't a bad fluttering, but she wasn't sure what to think of it. Chuck had shaken his head in response to Janice's question, but Sarah would have to ask him about the possibility. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't had her period since she had woken up. Had they been trying? She didn't feel ready to become a mother, not at all, but... maybe someday, not so far away? Before, she would have flatly said no to children, but the thought of Chuck being her child's father put things in a different light. He was the sort of man who stayed.

Once again, she felt as though she had woken up in another woman's life and she was living a fairy tale she had never thought she could have. She was married to an intelligent, kind, gentle man who made her laugh; they had a dream house that they were apparently remodeling; she had a motley, loyal family by blood and friendship; and she had the chance to put down roots that could last a lifetime.

"You okay?" Chuck asked, when they were carrying their grocery bags out to the parking lot.

"What?" She glanced up at him. "Oh—yes. I'm fine. Just thinking." She gave him a smile, which he returned, but there was a question in his eyes. "Really," she said. "Nothing's wrong."

"All right," he replied, as the Nerd Herder chirped and he opened the trunk. He shot her a smile, another layer still in his eyes. "Let's go home."

On the short drive back, Sarah wondered how much longer Chuck would want to stay in the apartment. At this morning's briefing, Morgan had mentioned that just before Quinn had shown up, she and Chuck had closed on a little white house with a white picket fence and a red door.

So that was what it looked like? After she had tried to kidnap Ellie, and Ellie had purposely caused a car accident to knock Sarah unconscious, Chuck had brought Sarah to the house in a last-ditch attempt to convince her that he was telling her the truth. The sun had been setting by the time she woke up, and she had been so focused on attacking him and completing her mission that she hadn't taken much note of her surroundings. After Quinn shot Chuck, she had fled the house, and she had never stopped to look back at it.

Going back there—could it ever feel like home? Would she find the shattered remains of the mirror still on the floor? Would she ever be able to see their names carved in that doorframe without also seeing Chuck leaning against it in pain, his eyes meeting hers above her gun?

But there was also the other memory. The first one, when they had made the carving. The warm, peaceful, happy moment. He would have both memories, too. She wouldn't be alone there.

And the thought of a little white house with a red door... it made the odd fluttering happen again, this time accompanied by almost-tears, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

She had told him about that? And he had gone out and found the house of her childhood fantasies? She almost didn't want to go back to see it, for fear that it wouldn't be as perfect as she imagined. But then, if it wasn't, they would just figure out what they needed to do to improve it, and he would help her make it happen. If there were still shards of mirror on the floor, they would sweep it up and buy a new one. It was strange how safe and at home he made her feel, like anything she could dream was possible, as long as she was going to do it with him.

She didn't deserve him. But she had him, and he loved her, and he looked at her like she was the most amazing woman in the world. Like she was worth enduring a beating—from her!—for. Like she was worth dying for.

Chuck had been wearing a vest, but still—he couldn't have known where Quinn was aiming. Chuck could have taken a bullet in the back of the head, and he had known it, and still he had thrown himself between her and the gun, after she had just stomped on his heart and kicked him down a flight of stairs.

He was a gift. An extraordinary, life-changing gift, and she swore to herself that she would never make him regret choosing to be with her, despite everything she had put him through.

Chuck was putting on a good face today, but she suspected that he was still hollowed out. There was something in his eyes—he had amazing eyes, so expressive and honest; they had told a second, and sometimes a third, story, even as his words had downplayed his part or his struggles—that told her he was still aching, still hoping, still aware that she might leave him.

That thought made her chest burn, and she clutched the steering wheel as she followed the small red-and-white Nerd Herder down the road. She would prove to herself and to him that she did deserve him.

She swallowed. She was still afraid of what she might discover, trying to play house with him. Would she be a disappointment? Would she be unsatisfied? Would the happily-ever-after ending she had awoken to burn off in the harsh light of reality? But she fiercely wanted to try. She couldn't just throw this chance away. Not now, not when she ached for it to be real, and every other possibility seemed strangely bleak, because she had to picture those places without him.

He would give her space, if she asked for it. She could have her own apartment, she could find a job, she could try dating him and getting to know him again while she found herself. The problem was that she wanted to find herself with him. She wanted to skip all the waiting and the not-knowing and the hopeful smiles while his eyes made her ache, and she wanted to just curl up in his arms and hide away from the world for a while.

She blinked, refocusing on the Nerd Herder, and shivered. Shivered, because she wasn't warm and huddled with him yet; shivered, because she didn't quite recognize herself and this flood of safe and home and loved and at rest emotions that the thought of being in his arms suddenly evoked.

But the Nerd Herder slowed down, the left directional blinking on, and she didn't have time to process it all before Chuck turned into the quiet street outside their apartment and pulled his car up to a slow stop beside the curb. Sarah drove into the spot behind his and cut her engine, pausing a moment to watch as he switched off his car, opened the door, and unfolded his lanky frame to climb out. His clothes flattered his body; he looked fit and comfortable in them. He glanced up and shot her a tentative smile as he went around the back of the car and opened the trunk to lift out the plastic grocery bags.

Deciding she couldn't just sit in the car and watch him any longer, or it would look weird, she drew in a deep breath, grabbed her purse, and got out.

They had just entered the courtyard outside the apartment, laden with grocery bags, when a deep-voiced shout suddenly went up.

"Whoa! Great to see you guys!"

Devon Woodcomb, Ellie's husband, stood outside his front door, a baby gate in one hand and a dumbbell in the other. He quickly set them down next to a stack of cardboard boxes and shot Chuck and Sarah a megawatt grin. "Hey, Babe!" he shouted over his shoulder. Poking his head just inside his apartment, he called, "You're gonna want to see this!"

There was an annoyed noise, and Ellie appeared in the doorway. "Devon! I just put Clara down! All your shouting is going to wake—" Ellie suddenly caught sight of Chuck and Sarah and emitted a high-pitched squeal, then clamped her hands over her mouth, her hazel eyes wide and now filling with tears. Then she blinked, cleared her throat, and smoothed her palms down her sides. Striding purposefully across the courtyard toward them, her eyes full of hope and questions and her lips pressed firmly together, she met them and looked between them, everything about her frame bursting with contained energy.

Sarah glanced at Chuck, who only stood there smiling, so she swallowed, turned back to Ellie and said, tentatively, "Hi, Ellie."

"You, are you...?" Ellie clamped her lips shut again and looked at her brother, but he still didn't say anything. He just gave Sarah a warm look.

"I'm back," Sarah said.

Ellie shrieked and threw her arms around Sarah, who staggered a little under the onslaught when the grocery bags swung back and pulled at her center of gravity. Chuck was immediately beside her, steadying her, and Devon swooped in to take the bags from one of her hands.

"Whoa, Babe," he said, putting a hand on Ellie's back.

Ellie disengaged slightly and wiped under her eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to see you! After what Chuck told us, I didn't know if we would see you again before we left, and there's so much I wanted to... I wanted to say." Ellie pressed her lips together, taking in Sarah and Chuck and the grocery bags, then smiled. "But maybe now isn't the best time."

"No, it's okay—" Sarah moved to return Ellie's hug, but the remaining bags got in the way.

"Here," Chuck said, and he extended some fingers. She shot him a grateful smile. Once her arms were free, she gave Ellie a hug.

"I'm happy to see you, too," Sarah said honestly, marveling at how gracious and forgiving this woman was, and how wonderful it felt to be loved so deeply.

"We're going to make dinner," Chuck said. "You're welcome to join us."

Ellie stepped back, gesturing for Devon to return the shopping bags to Sarah. "No, of course not—this evening is for you two. Besides," Ellie gave a little laugh and dried one eye, then gestured back at the boxes, "we already ate. And we've got so much packing to do! The moving truck will be here at eight tomorrow morning, and I haven't even managed to start packing our closet yet. And there's everything in the kitchen—"

"I've got most of that," Devon said. "Not to worry, Babe."

She gave him a look. "As long as you don't try to pack it in with any of your workout equipment. I don't want to spend the next month making tea that smells like man-sweat."

He smirked at her. "Hey, I thought you said you like how I smell when I'm all sweaty."

Sarah smiled to herself as she liberated the extra bags from Chuck.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Sure, but I don't want my tea to smell like boiled Devon." She put a hand on Sarah's arm. "You're back? Does that mean your memories are returning?"

Sarah shrugged. "Some of them. Bits and pieces. But mostly... no."

Ellie nodded. "That's to be expected. The more familiar things you do, the more likely it is that your memories will be triggered." Her gaze flickered up to Chuck's.

"Actually," Sarah said, "a lot of what Chuck told me feels familiar, even if I don't remember it."

Ellie smiled. "It's okay. Just give it time." She exhaled a laugh, her eyes bright with tears again. "I'm so happy for you. If you have any questions—any at all—just give me a call, okay? I'm a neurologist. I might be able to help."

"I know," Sarah said. "Thanks."

Some unspoken signal passed between Ellie and Devon, and suddenly Devon said to Chuck, "Here, bro, let me help you with those," and he took Chuck's bags. "C'mon, Sarah, I can show you where you guys keep everything."

"Okay," Sarah said, knowing when she was being managed, and playing along. "So Clara's asleep?"

As Devon launched into a tale of the harrowing gauntlet that was Clara's bedtime routine, Sarah glanced back at Chuck and Ellie.

"Oh, Chuck," Ellie exclaimed softly, pulling him into a hug. He pressed his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes.

Sarah had to keep walking, and she couldn't hear what Ellie said next, until Devon's chatter quieted when he and Sarah reached the front door.

"You okay, Sarah?" Devon asked in a low tone. "You're not being pressured to be here or anything, right?"

Sarah turned her gaze sharply up to Devon, but saw only genuine concern creasing his face. He was her brother-in-law, she realized. He cared about her, too. She met his gaze directly.

"No, Devon. I'm here because I want to be." She smiled. "Thank you for asking."

He relaxed and smiled back at her. "Oh, good. Chuck's a good guy. I didn't really think he'd do anything like that, but after everything you've been through, even the best intentions..." Devon blew out a breath and gave a shake of his head. "You can take your time, you know that, right?"

"I know." She turned to watch Ellie and Chuck pulling apart, and something in her eased a bit more. "It's going to be okay." She smiled up at Devon. "Actually, better than okay."

His teeth flashed. "You have no idea how relieved we are to hear that."

"I think I have some idea," Sarah said, with a soft laugh.

Devon looked up as Chuck approached. "Yeah, I bet you do."

"Thank you," Chuck said to Devon, accepting the bags. "Do you need any more help with moving stuff?"

"Not tonight," Devon replied. "Although I wouldn't mind another strong back tomorrow morning."

"You got it," Chuck said. "Just give us a call."

"Awesome, bro, will do." Devon slapped Chuck's shoulder. "You two have a good night."

"Good night," they echoed.

While Chuck fit his key into the lock, Sarah watched Ellie and Devon meet up halfway across the courtyard, where they slipped their arms around each other—Devon's across Ellie's shoulders, Ellie's across his lower back—as they continued on toward their place.

"They really love each other, don't they?" Sarah asked, and Chuck looked up as he pushed the door in with his elbow.

Glancing back, he said, "Ellie and Devon? Yeah, they do."

"I can see why you and Morgan used to call him 'Captain Awesome'."

Chuck laughed, stepping into the darkness and reaching out to flip on a light switch. "He kind of grows on you after a while." Chuck dropped his keys into a basket beside the door and stood back to let Sarah go in ahead of him, then nudged the door closed with his foot and locked it behind him before following her into the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," he said, dropping his bags on the counter, and a moment later, he had disappeared into the bathroom.