A/N: Really appreciate all the reviews. Please keep them coming! Aerox is great for getting this chapter beta'd quickly.

I think writing the smutty scenes is slowing down this story. It was something of a writing experiment that has mostly run its course at this point. If it feels organic as the story continues, there will still be those kinds of scenes, but I'm not going to be as worried about there being at least one per chapter. I'll state in the A/N of future chapters whether there is or not. And I might edit together a T-rated version of this story at some point, but that seems like quite an undertaking.

Sarah vs the Intervention

Chuck was slow to wake up. The day before had been strenuous. Sarah had put him through the wringer in more ways than one. He idly started cataloging all the craziness, yesterday had brought.

Nearly caught in the act of one of the craziest positions he'd never imagined? Check.

Quasi arrested, and then ambushed by mercenaries and nearly shot? Check.

Ambushed again later by Sarah in belly-dancer costume? Check.

Pregnancy scare? Check.

Emotionally cathartic cry with Sarah? Check.

Tension laden wait for pregnancy test results? Check.

Awkward moment where their relative levels of disappointment and relief don't match up? Check.

Watch entire Star Wars original trilogy? At Sarah's insistence? Check.

Couple all that with the first... eventful day of their road trip, and despite getting more than ten hours of dreamless sleep, he hardly had the energy to drag himself out of bed. Finally, the lack of snugly Sarah in bed with him, drew him out from under the covers.

He slid the bedroom door away into its cubby and peeked out. Sarah was at the table in a tank-top and sweats, hair tied back in a loose pony-tail. Fading scabs poked out from under the left strap of her tank top, and Chuck winced in sympathy as he padded up behind her. He kissed her shoulder, carefully avoiding the scrapes, and raised his eyebrow at the contents of the table. He'd expected a crossword puzzle, a newspaper. Maybe a cup of coffee. The coffee was there, but also a gun mat with a disassembled Uzi laying on it, boxes of ammo, spare magazines and gun cleaning supplies. "So. What's all this?"

Sarah merely shrugged. "I went shopping," she said and nudged a pile of bags on the floor by the table with her foot. 'Guns and Guitars Mesquite, NV', most prominent among them. "The Gremlin gets pretty decent gas mileage."

"I'd have helped carry at least, if you'd woken me up."

"You looked so peaceful," Sarah said. "Besides, you were still asleep when I got back, so you obviously needed the rest."

"I can't really argue against that," Chuck said. He had to fight down a yawn. "So, did you buy a guitar or a gun?"

"Just supplies. Spare mags for the Uzi and my 22, carrying case and holsters. A few other things."

Chuck was distracted by something in one of the bags. He stooped and freed it from the plastic bag. His eyebrows went up. 250 Count Bulk Condoms.

"Um... that's a lot of condoms," Chuck said. And kicked himself mentally. That was a dumb thing to say.

Sarah blushed faintly and shrugged. "Just planning ahead. I've only got like, two weeks worth of pills, and if we're still on the run, walking into a doctor's office and trying to get a prescription for birth control pills is a risk."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that," Chuck frowned. "Don't you have a bunch of fake IDs?"

"Yeah, but I don't want them getting put into any computer systems if I can help it. If the people looking for us have a link into DMV records, medical records might be compromised too."

Chuck scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I don't know. Medical records are supposed to be confidential. I would assume they have at least some level of security. DMV records are pretty easy to get access to."

Sarah shrugged again. "Not a big deal, is it?"

"No, not really," Chuck said. "Just... that's a lot of condoms."

Sarah turned and grinned at him. "Is it? Is it really, though?"

Chuck swallowed and tugged at the neck of his t-shirt to loosen it, which sent Sarah into a snort of laughter. He slid into the chair opposite her and waved at the disassembled Uzi. "Anything I can help with?"

Sarah considered. "You know much about guns?"

"I've picked up a few things," Chuck said, and tapped the side of his head to indicate the Intersect.

She leaned forward and turned the mat around on the table so the Uzi lay in front of him. "Be my guest."

"You want to blindfold me?"

Sarah grinned and arched an eyebrow. "Maybe later."

Chuck's ears flushed red and he broke eye contact to concentrate on the task of reassembling the pilfered Uzi. The Uzi's action was relatively ancient, and oft copied, and the Intersect had all the information he needed and then some. His head buzzed briefly as a sequence of images blurred through his vision. Then his hands knew exactly what to do.

In short order, he was holding a fully assembled submachine gun. Sarah tried not to appear impressed. Chuck frowned. "This is a different barrel."

"Yeah, extra half a foot. Should be accurate out to a hundred yards now. Maybe more," Sarah said. She dug in the Guns and Guitars bag. "Plus, I got a foregrip that opens out into a bipod, and a better folding stock, and some optics."

He got up and got himself a cup of coffee before returning to the table. "We going to war with somebody?"

Sarah pursed her lips and set the Uzi accessories on the table. "If we do, I'd prefer to be able to put rounds on target at something above pistol range. It'll never be as good as a full-size rifle for that, but trying to buy firearms while staying off the grid is risky," she said. "Somewhere around the order of fifty times riskier than trying to find birth control pills off the grid."

Chuck could see how that might be true. Sarah stood up from the table and opened up the panelling to retrieve her tiny pistol from its hiding place.

She pulled the automatic from the protective plastic baggie and removed the silencer and magazine, locked back the slide and field stripped it. Chuck was enthralled. It was a very odd design. The barrel seemed to be in the wrong spot.

Sarah prepared her cleaning supplies neatly, almost compulsively, before she disassembled the weapon completely. She peered down the tiny barrel, inspecting the rifling. Chuck flashed, and learned that it was a Smith & Wesson model 2214. "I've always wondered why you like Smith & Wesson so much," Chuck said suddenly.

"Is that a question?" Sarah paused in assembling the cleaning rod for the 22.

Chuck shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.

Sarah pursed her lips in thought. "We saw Sudden Impact at an impressionable age. We who, you say?" She mimed pulling a pistol from a shoulder holster with her hand, finger poking out like a barrel. "Smith, Wesson, and me." In her best Eastwood.

Chuck spewed coffee down his shirt. Sarah lurched forward to shield the gun from stray droplets. "How the hell... how the hell did I not know you were a Dirty Harry fan?"

She merely shrugged again. "You didn't take a very good look at my fake IDs, did you. One of them's Harriet Callahan."

Chuck snorted a laugh, and couldn't help it. "My wife's Dirty Harriet?" He set his coffee down carefully and laughed for a solid minute. Sarah had a concerned expression on her face when he finally had to pant air back into his lungs. "Well. We're definitely having a Dirty Harry marathon at some point, as long as we're trapped inside the Winnebago."

Sarah began cleaning the pistol. As she swabbed out the barrel, she caught Chuck's eyes and her hands' motion changed subtly, her working the cleaning rod somehow managed to be highly suggestive. Sarah arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Are you propositioning me?"

"I didn't say a word," Sarah managed with a straight face. The cleaning rod paused, and then resumed at a more vigorous pace. She gave it a little twist and pulled the rod free, inspecting the cotton swatch at the tip, ignoring him completely.

Chuck let out a sigh and tried to ignore her right back. He pushed back from the table, found his laptop and sat down on the sofa. Sarah glanced over her shoulder at him and arched an eyebrow. "You look busy," he said.

Sarah frowned sourly and went back to cleaning her gun.

After the boot-up sequence, he quickly discovered a new email.

"Hey, Beckman got back to us again. She had somebody track the dead guys' financials. Trail took the FBI to an Abigail Smith."

"So... who's Abigail Smith?"

"Sorry, crap. Uh... looks like, um, do you remember Vincent Smith? Faked his death to infiltrate Castle? Got blown up when we rescued my dad? I told you about this."

"Oh, right! Yeah, what about him?"

"He didn't get all the way blown up."

"Not-" Sarah turned to frown at him again. "How do you get 'not all the way' blown up?"

"He lost an arm, and he's got burns over most of his body."

"Oh. Ugh," Sarah said. "He hired them?"

"No," Chuck said. "If he hired them, they probably would have been more effective. He always prided himself on his professionalism. They think it was his kid sister, Abigail. Vincent's not doing so well. He's bedridden and requires an oxygen tank. Beckman's hypothesizing Vincent blabbed about the guy who put him in that position."

"Hypothesized? The Smiths aren't talking?"

"Abigail got away, and Vincent is kind of stubborn."

"Well, they've got people who can be very persuasive."

"I know. But they can't use any... coercive means. Not without killing him, anyway which sort of defeats the purpose. That's Beckman's read of the situation, which I agree with."

"So, that leaves little sis. Is she any good?"

"She's in college," Chuck shrugged. They're tracking down her records, but she's majoring in Computer Science."

"So she's a hacker?"

"Not every CS major is a hacker," Chuck said. Sarah had turned from cleaning her weapons, and he could read her pretty good. "You're worried she can keep tabs on us if we go back on the grid."

Sarah nodded. "Is there any way to make sure she doesn't?"

"There's a lot of ways, actually," Chuck said slowly. "I don't want to bore you with the specifics. But you've got five good aliases. There's ways to keep your picture out of the files. I just have to know where you want to go back on the grid in advance so I can be ready to cover the electronic trail."

Sarah pursed her lips. "We really do fit."

"Whoa. That's a bit of a wild segue."

She shrugged and got up from the table, leaned her hip on the bench seat so she could look at him without craning her neck. "I just mean... that's the kind of thing I'm not good at. The tech stuff."

"You do okay."

"I'm having a moment here," Sarah said. "An epiphany, maybe. A little epiphany, about us working together and how it worked. I know you told me about it a little, but I'm really getting it now."

"Oh," Chuck said. He smiled and went back to his email. "Huh. Ellie's pissed I'm not answering my phone."

Sarah winced and watched him for a moment. "We should celebrate."

Chuck frowned and arched an eyebrow. "We should celebrate my sister being mad at me?"

"Forget about that. Cost of being us," Sarah said dismissively. "We're celebrating not being actively hunted by some kind of international conspiracy."

"We're still being hunted."

"By a nerdy college coed," Sarah said. "I'm not concerned. Meet me in the bedroom in five minutes."

Chuck watched as Sarah bent for something from one of the bags, and arched an eyebrow. It was the box-of-condoms' bag, but she wasn't going for the condoms, but rather a smaller plastic bag, holding... Chuck put his laptop aside and snatched the bag. Sarah turned, a little upset at the effrontery. Chuck's eyebrows went up.

"Um. Okay, I guess we need to talk about this," Chuck brandished the bag, which bore a picture of a leggy blonde woman wearing a nurse outfit that consisted primarily of a red-cross emblazoned bikini top.

Sarah crossed her arms. "About what?"

"Consider this an intervention. I think you have costume addiction."

Sarah rolled her eyes and snorted.

"I'm serious. Look, sit down." He patted the sofa next to him. Sarah eyed the empty cushion, and then finally sat, back stiff. Chuck handed her back the bagged sexy nurse outfit. "I feel like you think I expect things from you in the bedroom, or you're trying to... I don't know, show yourself up. Or you've got a skewed sense of what a healthy sex-life entails."

"Chuck, I've got a whole closet of sexy outfits and costumes. Are you saying I never dressed up in any of them for you?"

He couldn't help but blush. "No. No I am not saying that... But three days in a row is pushing it, I think. It was more of a special occasion kind of thing. Birthdays, Valentine's Day..."

"That's what the one with wings was about!"

Chuck laughed. "Yeah. I really want to tell you that story but..."

"I know," she said. "Maybe I'll remember that one soon."

Chuck patted her knee. The stiff back seemed to lessen, but Sarah still had her arms crossed.

"I just want to be absolutely clear on this," Sarah said. "You're actually turning down sex right here. That's what you're doing?"

"Kind of, yeah," Chuck said. He grinned. "Unless you reaaaally want sex right now?"

Sarah shrugged. "I guess I just assumed you would."

"We don't have to have sex every day. I like a good cuddle probably more than the next guy."

"I don't like that phrase."

"Sorry, what phrase?"

"The 'next guy'. There's not gonna be a next guy."

"Okay. I'll watch my phrasing. I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort. Now, you wanted to celebrate. How about champagne and cuddling on the couch with a movie?"

"Or we could get back on the road, if we're not going to have sex."

"Not a fan of the RV park?"

Sarah shrugged. "We're still in danger. And I want to keep moving."

Chuck nodded. "Let me hop in the shower first. I'd ask you to join me, but I don't think we'd fit. I barely fit in that thing."

"What happened to 'not having to have sex every day'?"

"We also don't have to have sex every time we share a shower."

Sarah eyed him flatly.

"Okay, most of the time sure. Being that close to you without any clothes on, is on the irresistible side of tempting, I'll be the first to admit it."

The flat expression lightened and she leaned back on the couch.

"How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"Oh, don't give me too much credit. It's definitely an acquired skill," Chuck said. "You're benefitting from several years of reverse engineering ways, in which I royally pissed you off, into ways to make you swoon."

"Swoon, huh?" she said with a mild glare. Mild for Sarah, so only mildly terrifying.

Chuck grinned. "See what I did there? Figuring you out has always been largely trial and error. But I'm okay with that."

"So did I ever get good at talking about my feelings?"

"No. Your wedding vows were pretty rocking, from my perspective. But look, I'm not trying to change that about you. If we mostly left things unsaid, that's fine. Part of the fun is having to pay very close attention to your body language." He waggled his eyebrows and Sarah blushed and snorted a laugh.

Chuck spent some time with his laptop setting up electronic trails for Sarah's five emergency identities, and muddying up the financial records while he was at it. He had no confidence that the CIA would have paid adequate attention to making sure those identities actually had credit histories and tax records, dating back as far as they should. And he'd been right, though they had current bank balances at least, so he could spread Sarah's retirement money out piecemeal to all five identities. Covering his tracks on the financial side was tricky, as Abigail Smith's failure to hide her tracks had proved. Sarah's eyes started to glaze over when he tried to explain what he was doing. The fact that it actually wasn't technically illegal hadn't reassured her as much as he would have hoped. Nonetheless, Chuck was confident that there was no linkage between Harriet Callahan's money and Chuck Bartowski. Same with the other four.

So, two hours after they got the news from Beckman, they were on the road again, heading north with the Gremlin on a trailer hitch behind the Winnebago. The RV park had had the good grace to give them a partial refund on their month's rent.

Sarah eased up on the road trip games, and picked up a couple of books on tape at the bookstore in Mesquite on their way through. She insisted on stopping before they crossed over into Utah, to check off Arizona on the list.

"I'm sorry? What list."

"States where we've... you know... done it. Boinked. Plowed."

"I think I get it now."

Sarah nodded. "So. California, Nevada... Arizona's next. I don't want to have to loop around and come back."

"Got something against Arizona?"

"Not particularly. Dries out my skin though."

Chuck grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Just means I get to rub you down with moisturizer."

Sarah barked a surprised laugh. "I'll go get the oil."

"What? You bought baby oil?"

"I bought gun oil. It's the same stuff."

"You want me to give you a massage with gun oil?"

"Technically it's mineral oil."

Chuck shook his head. "Gun oil is for guns, Sarah."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Make an exception, just this once," she said. "I'll make it worth your while."

After checking Arizona off the list, they parked for the night in a small town just across the border into Utah, and watched the first couple episodes of Firefly before turning in. They laid in bed for a long time, cuddling and talking about little things. Details neither Sarah nor Chuck had ever volunteered. 13 year old Sarah and her first hopeless crush, back when she was Katie O'Connell. Chuck having to save Morgan from his first crush. Chuck disassembling various household appliances to see how they worked. Sarah conning an armored truck driver into thinking he'd run over her bicycle. Chuck's first real date turning into a comedy of errors that ended up with him hiding naked in the bushes from the police had Sarah laughing so hard Chuck was briefly worried she'd give herself a stroke.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh," she said, wiping away tears. "How did you make your escape. I'd think that would have made it into your FBI file if the cops caught you."

Chuck cocked an eyebrow. "You saw my FBI file?"

"When Graham gave me the assignment," she said.

"When did you remember that?" Chuck said, brushing stray hair behind her ear. Sarah pressed her cheek into his hand and shrugged.

"I don't really know," she admitted. "It's been coming back as you talked about your youthful indiscretions."

"I object to your phrasing."

"You're changing the subject. How did you elude the police?"

Chuck sighed. "What can I give you to not have to answer that question?"

Sarah smirked and rooted around under the covers until she found the waistband of his boxers. She tugged the elastic down slightly and slipped her hand down to grasp him gently. "Weeeellll..." Sarah said in a husky voice, squeezing him and tugging slowly. "We still have Utah to check off the list."

Chuck groaned and closed his eyes, which Sarah took as agreement. She scooted forward to kiss him. It was surprisingly, considering what her hand was doing under the covers, a soft, relatively chaste kiss. It only lasted a couple seconds. Sarah broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his and sped up pumping her hand on his growing erection. He groaned again.

"Sarah, come on. The spirit is willing but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

"The flesh seems pretty willing to me," she said. "That's a quote from something, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah..." Chuck said. His voice nearly cracked.

"Don't tell me. I'll figure it out eventually," she said. Sarah bit her lip for a moment and then kissed the side of his neck while snaking her other hand into his boxers. She sped up the pace of her stroking and worked her way down his chest.

"Oh, god. Let me grab a condom, just to be safe?" Chuck gasped.

"You're not going to need it yet," Sarah pushed him over onto his back and let him go long enough to strip the boxers out of the way.

"Ha, whoa! Oh god," he said. Sarah kissed his belly button and peeked up at him from the shadows under the covers, running her tongue around the tip of him.

"Tell me," she said.

"W-what?"

Sarah took the tip in her mouth and sucked hard for a moment. "Tell. Me. You asked what you could do not to tell me. I flipped it." Sarah curled her tongue around the tip and sucked him into her mouth again. Chuck groaned and surged half upright. Sarah came off him for a moment, startled more than anything, and he grabbed her under the armpits and hauled her up. Sarah gasped as his fingers darted into her pj bottoms.

"I can flip things too," he said, pushing her over onto her back and peeling her pj pants clean off her. Sarah laughed and started to protest, but it trailed off as soon as he bent down between her thighs and went to work.

Sarah's eyes glided closed for a moment. "Oh, you're good at that..." she moaned. "But be.. careful, Chuck. You know I hate to lose." She cut off a moan as he sucked hard at her moist tender flesh. Sarah growled deep in her throat and grabbed his shoulder, flipping him over onto his back and rolling on top of him and spun around. She grabbed him and ran her tongue up the side of him, sucking as she went. Chuck slicked a pair of fingers along her outer folds and ground his thumb into her as he sucked on her clit. She groaned again, and took him fully into her mouth, bobbing her head roughly, taking him deep.

Chuck fought back valiantly, and for several minutes Chuck and Sarah tried to suck, nibble, fondle and finger each other into submission. Inevitably, Sarah won. Chuck groaned and emptied himself into her mouth. Sarah was caught off guard and coughed momentarily, before licking him clean. He didn't stop his own efforts, shifting into high gear without the distraction of Sarah pleasuring him, and he persevered until he'd drawn Sarah into her own climax.

Once she'd cooled down, Chuck climbed up and spooned her. "Okay," she said. "Tell me."

"Darn, I was hoping I'd made you forget."

"Nope," Sarah said smugly, snugging herself back into him more firmly.

Chuck sighed into her neck. "Fine. I stole a pair of trashcan lids to shield my modesty."

Sarah laughed. "Like you've got anything to be modest about."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence. Story isn't over. I cut across to the backside neighbor's yard and a little old lady took pity on me. She gave me a pair of her late husband's pants and drove me home. My life flashed before my eyes on the drive, but she managed to get me back to the house without killing the both of us."

Sarah turned slightly in his arms to look at him. "You're leaving something out."

"She goosed me as I went up the sidewalk."

Sarah laughed. "Can't say I blame her. You do have a pretty pinchable butt."

"You're one to talk," Chuck said, working a hand between them.

Sarah yelped and rubbed her wounded buttock, wriggling away. Chuck pulled her back and kissed her and then they devolved into another fit of giggles.