A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been super lazy lately, but I mostly blame it on the weather. I do so despise cold weather. Anyway, lest you have forgotten, this story is a gift fic for the amazing Catrogue, who is, without a doubt, the coolest chick anyone could ever hope to know. She ain't bad to look at either, just so you know (crazy hair situations notwithstanding). Anyway, I won't keep you. You have some reading to do. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: The Coming Storm

Sarah's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself in a very familiar place.

She was lying naked on a hammock, surrounded by a mountain of pillows. It was a warm, spring day, and she appeared to be all alone in a flowery, sunbathed valley. The hammock was tied between two maple tress that had, oddly enough, been groomed in the shape of a very particular part of Chuck's anatomy.

Sarah stood from her hammock, and stretched her arms and legs, letting the gloriously warm sun wash over her equally glorious naked body. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of honeysuckles blooming throughout the valley.

"Good morning, mademoiselle," she heard over her left shoulder.

She turned to find Chuck looking quite dapper in a tux with a long coattail, with white gloves, and a napkin draped across his extended left arm. It was a good look for him, though his French accent could use a bit of work. Then again, it was cute how bad his accent was, and how nerdy it made him sound, so she decided he didn't need any work, after all.

"Good morning yourself, handsome," Sarah said, her voice low and sultry.

"I have a fine selection for you this morning," Chuck said.

He waved his hand to the side, and there appeared three more Chucks, all of them completely naked. One had longer, curly hair. Just as Chuck had when she first met him. One had shorter, cropped hair. The new look Chuck had adopted. The third had hair as long as the first one, only he had a beard.

"Hmmm, a tough choice as always," Sarah said, walking saucily over to inspect her selection.

But as tough as her decision was, she quickly made up her mind.

"Ah, I see you've chosen the Vintage 2007 Chuck," waiter Chuck said. "An excellent choice."

"Good morning, Sarah," said even another Chuck from behind her.

Sarah turned to feast her eyes on her newest, and most welcome visitor.

"Good morning to you, Mailman Chuck," she said.

Sure enough, the fifth Chuck of her morning was dressed in the outfit of the United States Postal service. He even wore those very short, very tight shorts, showing off an impressive bulge. At least Sarah was impressed. But then, there wasn't much about Chuck that didn't impress her. Especially not in his pants.

"I've got an urgent delivery for you," Mailman Chuck said.

"Oh, I bet you do," Sarah said suggestively.

He laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, Sarah. That's not what I mean. Not this time, at least. I have a letter for you that is marked urgent."

"Oh," Sarah said, disappointedly. "Can't it wait? I was just about to sample a vintage 2007 Chuck."

"I'm sorry," the mailman said. "This says you're to open it immediately upon receipt."

"Fine, party-pooper," Sarah pouted.

She took the envelope from Chuck's hand, and slid her fingernail along the edge to open it. She took out a single sheet of paper.

Once it was unfolded, the letter had but one short sentence, printed in bold, red font.

I GOT YOUR MAN, BITCH.
LOVE,
JILL

"Like HELL!" Sarah shouted, as she tore the paper into tiny pieces and let float away on the gentle breeze blowing through the valley.

She watched them as they drifted away, but before disappeared from sight, the small paper fragments began to circle around one another, as if they were caught in a whirlwind. But there wasn't a whirlwind to be seen, and the note from the skank started to reassemble right in front of Sarah's eyes.

Once whole again, the paper seemed to grow exponentially by the second and turned black. The now black letter, with the red text clearly visible nearly blocked out the dark clouds forming in the distance, but Sarah could still make out the storm on the horizon.

Jill's note was soon enveloped by the clouds, morphing to a storm cloud unto itself, making the coming storm appear all the more ominous and imposing.

"Come on, Chuck, we have to get indoors," Sarah said, turning to her 2007 Chuck.

But when she tried to grab his hand to take him with her, he pulled away. Sarah looked up at the clouds casting a pall over her perfect valley, and watched in horror as the dark cover took the shape of Jill Fucking Roberts.

"Forget her, Chuck," the cloud Jill said in a booming, overbearing (yet still shrill, because it was still Jill, after all) voice.

"You stay away from him, you bitch!" Sarah shouted.

Sarah's protest seemed to be pointless, however, as all of the Chucks—2007 Chuck, Mailman Chuck, Waiter Chuck, and every other Chuck in Sarah's happy land—began marching slowly toward Cloud Jill.

"Chuck! Where are you going? Come back!"

But they all continued to walk away from her, all with a single-word, monotonous chant on their lips.

"Jill. Jill. Jill."

"NOOOOOO!" Sarah cried.

"Sarah? Sarah, calm down sweetie, it's going to be okay," Chuck said.

Sarah stopped thrashing about, and opened her eyes. She looked around, and found that she was no longer in her now tainted fantasy world. She was back in the cabin. She was no longer naked (a pity), she was wrapped in her favorite, comfy light blue bathrobe. But at least Chuck was back with her, hovering over her as she lay on the couch. And at least that whore was gone.

"Oh, Chuck," she croaked out. "I had the worst dream ever."

She tried to move her hand to run it along Chuck's face, but quickly found that she couldn't move her hand at all.

"The hell?" she asked, frustrated.

She tried again, but still, her hands were held in place. She tried to kick out, but found her feet equally bound.

Then it all came back to her. Jill was in the cabin, and Sarah was going to finally get to kill her, but Chuck had shot Sarah with a tranq dart. In the ass!

"You shot me!" Sarah shouted.

"Sarah, calm down," he said in a soothing voice.

"No! You shot me to protect that slut!"

"Nice to see you, too, Agent Walker."

Sarah's gaze shot over to the entry way to the kitchen. There, leaning against the doorframe, sipping at a mug that had steam lightly flowing over its edge was the bane of Sarah Walker's existence. The one person on Earth that needed killing more than anyone else, and Sarah was powerless to dole out that killing.

"How could you do this to me?" Sarah said, turning back to Chuck. "How could you betray me for her?"

"Shhh," Chuck said. "I didn't betray you."

"The tranqing and the tying up says differently," Sarah pointed out.

Chuck frowned. "I'm sorry about that. But we need to hear Jill out, and I know how you're prone to rash decisions."

"This is not a rash decision, Chuck!" Sarah said. She then took a deep breath to calm herself. Shouting wasn't going to help her cause, in this case. "This isn't a rash decision," she said calmly. "I've thought about this for a long time. Years now. And my well thought out, rational observation is that Jill needs to die."

"Well, I'm happy I have your support," the whore said as she walked over to the couch.

When Skanky of Skank, the Skank That Skanked a Thousand Skanks was just a few feet in front of Sarah, Sarah lashed out. Bound to the couch or not, she had to try. If she could just get her hands around the slut's throat…

"Jill! I told you not to come in here until she calms down," Chuck scolded his ex.

Sarah had to smile a little then. Her wrist hurt like hell from her attempted escape, but it was always nice to see Chuck yell at Jill. Not as nice as seeing Jill die, but still nice.

Jill's head dropped, and she didn't look nearly as smug—which also brought Sarah great pleasure—as the brunette plodded back to the kitchen area.

"I don't think that Jill gets that you belong to me now," Sarah said.

"I think she—"

"You know what would really drive the point home?" Sarah asked, cutting him off. "If you fuc—"

"We're not doing that, Sarah," Chuck said.

"But Chuuuuuck," Sarah whined. "It's only fair! I had to watch her make out with you plenty of times."

Chuck sighed. "Jill's in trouble," he said, ignoring Sarah's pleas.

"Good," Sarah said. "She should be. She was a traitor, then she escaped custody. She's supposed to be in trouble."

"We have to help her," Chuck said. "She's not the enemy anymore. She's just trying to survive, and there are people after her."

"So?" Sarah said.

"And they led her here, which means we're probably involved, too."

"Well it is my birthday," Sarah said.

"You birthday is in July, Agent Walker. Fulcrum had your unredacted agency file," Jill interceded from the kitchen.

"Shut up, you!" Sarah shouted over the back of the couch.

"My point is, maybe someone brought her here so I could kill her. As a birthday present for me."

Chuck didn't try to conceal his eye-roll. "Is that really what you think is happening?"

Sarah poked her bottom lip out. "It could be," she said petulantly.

"Yeah, but it's not," Chuck answered. "So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to let you go, and we're going to work out a way to protect Jill, and figure out who's after her. Then, when she's safe, she can go on with her life, and we can go back to celebrating your fake birthday weekend."

Sarah didn't like that plan. Not at all. It didn't involve plowing or killing, her two primary functions, and worst of all, it would benefit Jill Roberts, the one person Sarah hated above all others.

Still, Sarah wasn't stupid. She knew she didn't have a choice in the matter. If she said no, Chuck would do it anyway, and she'd just be lonely and horny for the rest of the trip. But if she helped Chuck, they could probably get it done faster, and Chuck would probably reward her for a job well done.

"Fine," Sarah finally conceded. "I'll play your game, Chuck. But you will owe me for this."

Chuck smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, here's what Jill has told me."

A/N: And that's it for now! I'm really curious to hear your thoughts on our Adorable Psycho's dream world. I had a LOT of fun writing that. Her head can be a scary place, but a barrel of fun, still the same. Thank you so much for reading, and in case I don't update in the next week, happy holidays! You guys are awesome. Peace (on Earth, good will to men, and whatnot).