Okay, here's Chapter 4. I also have an idea for Chapter 5, so you could see it sometime soon. As for The Road to Innocence, no worries my ferrets. Chapter 19 in currently undergoing revisions. It should be posted on 10/17, give or take a day. Chapter 20 is currently being mapped out. Expect it sometime this month, too. For more information, check out my profile page where I highlight my upcoming projects.

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Part Four: As She Sleeps

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It was a rare opportunity. During their cover sleepovers, he was always the first to fall asleep. It was though Sarah felt a compulsive need to see him safely asleep before she allowed herself the luxury. And then she was always up before him, doing her routine of pushups and sit-ups.

Not that this was the ideal circumstance to partake in a favorite pasttime. The reason she was asleep now was because the Vicodin knocked her out. And she only took the Vicodin because once more he didn't listen when she tried to keep him from harm's way.

He found himself in trouble and his White Knight once more came to the rescue. She picked a fistfight with two men nearly twice her size and paid the price for it. With a busted lip, black eye, two cracked ribs, and a bruised ego, his hero suffered the consequences for his stupidity.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Despite being wounded and drugged, Sarah slurred back, "S'okay." She then curled around on her non-injured side, facing towards him.

He marveled. How could she still appear so beautiful? Even bruised and battered, wearing nothing more than an oversized gray t-shirt – one Chuck believed she might have stolen from him – she was still radiant. And yet Chuck felt tremendous guilt for even thinking of it. It was his fault she was in this condition. He had no right to view her this way, no right to touch her.

But yet he did. On their own volition, his fingers entwined themselves through her golden, silken locks, marveling at the softness. They then trailed down the pale skin of her cheek, mindful to avoid the bruises marring her striking features.

Reacting to his touch, a slight smile curled at her lips and she sighed contently.

She truly was a vision. Despite the pain she must be in, she seemed totally relaxed. The ever present tension that usually affected her features appeared to dissolve at his touch. Was it possible he had the same effect on her as she had on him?

"I love you." The words slipped out before he could think. But he had no desire to take them back. In sleep, her smile deepened and she actually giggled softly.

He continued to watch her. For nearly three hours he simply laid on his side, head propped up on an elbow, his arm having long gone to sleep. He didn't dare move, not wishing to miss a single eye flutter, murmur, or sigh.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

And when she woke, her blue eyes sought him out. A joyous – and possibly drug loopy – smile appeared on her face. "Hey!" she drawled sleepily. Yeah, still a little drug loopy. Oh well, with a smile like that, he'd take it any way he could get it.

"Hey you," she drawled again. "Ya'kay?"

"I'm fine," Chuck smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." She then whispered, telling him a secret. "You know what? I like Vicodin."

"Who doesn't?"

Sarah giggled yet again. He loved her giggle. "Know what else?"

"What?"

"I like you, too."

Chuck actually blushed. "I think that's the drugs talking."

"Oh no!" Sarah denied. "I liked you long before the drugs. Liked you a whooooole lot." She sighed again, that dopey smile still on her face. "Still sleepy," she murmured. With those blue eyes she gazed at him, pleading. "Be here when I wake up?"

She fell asleep before he could answer. Chuck carefully drew the sheets up to her chin. Once more, his fingers found her hair.

"There's no place I'd rather be."

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In retrospect, Devon had no earthly idea why he ever wanted to buy that washing machine instead of a television. There's no way that washer could ever hope to give him the happiness that TV has.

Not that it really ever mattered what was playing. It was the effect it had on Ellie that made it well worth the price, particularly late at night. Nothing – with the possibly exception of The New England Journal of Medicine ­– could put his Eleanor to sleep faster than late night TV.

As they lounged on the couch, it's funny how she always fell asleep in the same position. Curled up, her head using his leg as a pillow, and clutching a throw pillow as if it were a teddy bear. And very gently, so not to disturb her, he would reach for the afghan they kept on the back of the couch and drape it over her slumbering form.

As Ellie snored softly – yes, she was a snorer, not that he'd ever tell her that – Devon would brush his fingers through her dark tresses. He would always get a kick listening to her snores change to contented purrs. She had incredible hair, he decided. So long, dark, and soft. He could do this all night. And on a couple of occasions, he actually did.

Of course, the rest of her wasn't bad either. He loved how her standard pajamas – a gray tank top and boxers – would cling to her curves. He loved her dark, olive skin. He loved trailing his fingers along her arm, connecting the dots between her various freckles and moles, the flickering TV his only guiding light.

He loved how she would sometimes mumble in her sleep. How she would occasionally laugh or giggle. How she would begin to tremble from a nightmare and how a few soft, soothing platitudes whispered into her ear could make the monsters go away.

Man, he really hit a grand slam when he bagged Ellie, that's for sure.

"Awesome," he whispered.

Upon hearing his voice, Ellie slowly roused from sleep. With bleary eyes, she sought out a clock. "Ooh, what time is it?"

"Little past two," Devon answered.

That seemed to wake her a bit. She jumped up and began to refold the afghan. "Why didn't you wake me? Your shift starts at eight!"

"I was comfortable."

Ellie shot him a disbelieving look. "Sitting upright for three hours with me sprawled in your lap? Yeah, right."

"Like I said. Comfortable."

Ellie rolled her eyes and replaced the blanket over the couch. "C'mon, let's go to sleep."

"Don't have to ask me twice."

He accepted the hand Ellie offered and she helped him upright. As they began to walk to the bedroom, Devon grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and clicked off the TV. He smiled as three words came to his mind.

Best. Investment. Ever.

END PART