A/N: So that wasn't nearly as long this time. I'm kind of proud of me. Also, as always, I will remind everyone that this fic was a gift for my good buddy Catrogue. I'm so glad you liked the last chapter, Cat, and hopefully this one won't disappoint! I'll keep this note short and sweet, as I really don't have much to say, and even if I did, it's moving weekend, and I'm kind of on a schedule, haha. One other thing though, once again, I posted this in a hurry, so I'm sure there are some errors. I'll correct them if/as I see them. Thanks for reading, everyone! Oh, and also, I don't have a financial claim in Neflix, Chuck, or Gossip Girl, I swear.


Chapter 7: The Real Reason Chuck Cancelled Netflix

Barstow, California…

Once or twice in her career as a spy, a terrorist had narrowly escaped her grasp. There were a few occasions when an asset under her watch had disappeared or even been killed without giving her the information she needed. And just two weeks prior, she'd been unable to deliver the swift justice due a skanky brunette who thought it was okay to eyeball her man.

And while there was failure involved in all of those occurrences, that failure could be written off as her mission falling victim to circumstance, be it an air traffic controller that wouldn't clear her for take-off, a double agent who didn't know how to watch his own back, or Chuck distracting her with promises of a good plowing.

But there was one moment in her life that Sarah Walker could truly look back upon, and say she'd been an unabashed failure.

In September of 2007, upon first meeting him, Sarah knew Chuck Bartowski was something special. By November, she knew she had feelings for them. New Years Day, 2009, she admitted to herself for the first time that she was in love with him. But it wasn't until April of that year, in a seedy Barstow motel room that she realized she needed him.

Sleeping in the same bed that previous night had led to spooning, which had led to hand holding, which had led to making out, which should have led to her first time with her one great love.

When Chuck disengaged from their kiss, and excused himself, presumably to retrieve protection, Sarah's entire body hummed with a need and desire that she'd never known before. And one that had lived within her ever since. A craving she was never able to sate—at least not for long, yet one that she constantly pursued. Sarah had never suffered from addiction, but from what she knew of the disease, she knew she was essentially chasing Chuck's dragon.

But on that fateful day, her needs were not met. Chuck's lips had rendered her speechless, and when he couldn't find a condom, she was unable to tell him he didn't need one with her. Or that she'd be more than happy to do something else for him, if he was uncomfortable with unprotected intercourse. She wasn't able to tell him anything.

Then, before he could return with a rubber, they were interrupted. Then she'd been rushed away to a hotel with the other members of the bridal party after Ellie's rehearsal dinner. Then Chuck had been stupid, and uploaded the stupid 2.0. Then he left her waiting at a stupid train station. And Sarah was left wanting—needing more for months on end, before she finally got her true desire met.

And it all started in Barstow. Her obsession, her constant need for physical affirmation, it all started in that stupid motel room. And now, someone had brought her back. To what end, Sarah wasn't sure. But whatever was going on, Jill was involved. And Sarah couldn't allow her arch nemesis to die. That fact alone made the situation infinitely more complicated. Sarah Walker wasn't in the business of keeping skanks alive. Quite the opposite. But now, she had to make it her specialty.

The helicopter that had fled the scene at the lake had been set to rest just outside the motel that still lived in Sarah's nightmares. Clearly, whoever this Decker douchebag was, he didn't mind her finding him.

Sarah set her chopper down a few blocks away, and walked the distance to the motel.

Her first stop wasn't even in question. If she'd been brought back here, she knew it was because of the significance of this place. And if they really wanted to drive that point home, there was nowhere else to look besides her room from that horrible morning.

She moved as stealthily as she could manage across the property, while making a beeline for that room. The one she'd never forget.

Steeling herself, Sarah took a deep breath, and kicked open the door, her S&W at the ready.

What she saw was a surprise to say the least. The kidnappers weren't in the room. No one was. Except Jill. Jill, and what looked to be a very well put together science lab.

"Jill, what the hell is going on?" Sarah growled, never taking her aim away from the Whore of Palo Alto.

Jill, who was hunched over a lab station, seemingly oblivious to the raging blonde that had just kicked in her door, slowly turned, moving her sliding her glasses up her nose to fix them on her eyes.

"Oh, Agent Walker, they said you'd be coming by," Jill said.

Sarah felt a sense of dread start to form in her gut. If Jill knew…

"So you knew about this plan?" Sarah asked, her eyes narrowing on the slut before her.

"What?" Jill asked, finally showing some sign of surprise. "No, not at all! But they said you guys worked together, and that this was some type of drill they were running? It all sounded really weird, but they said I'd be pardoned when it was all done, so I went along with it."

"So they haven't abused you any? Mistreated you?"

"No, not at all," Jill said.

Well, that sucked. At least they could've roughed Jill up a bit, since Sarah couldn't do it herself.

"And they gave me this great lab to work in while I waited. Even gave me a Netflix account I could use."

"Netflix?" Sarah asked.

"It's this service—"

"I know what it is," Sarah growled. "We used to have it, but Chuck cancelled our subscription."

"Was it because of the price increase?" Jill asked.


Six Months Prior…

It's not that John Casey wasn't scary in her own way. He was. But Sarah hadn't killed in over a week, and she was starting to get a little stir crazy. Not that Chuck approved of her violent streak, but having been in the spy business for the short time he'd been in, he'd come to realize there were in fact some people that just needed killing. He really hoped they'd run across one of those people soon, because while he was a healthy young man, he just wasn't able to keep up with Sarah lately.

So he'd come to hide out at Casey's, but to Sugar Bear's dismay. Sure, Chuck had to endure a little ribbing for needing shelter from his beautiful, if somewhat eccentric girlfriend, but it was totally worth it to get a few minutes of peace and quiet.

A quiet that was interrupted by a text. A text from Sarah. A text that read simply, "THAT BITCH!"

"Dammit," Chuck muttered under his breath.

He knew sneaking away from Sarah had its consequences. He'd only hoped that they wouldn't fall on some innocent bystander. Again.

Sighing, Chuck activated the Sarah-Tracking app on his phone. Casey called it the "Lunatic Locater." Casey was a dick, sometimes. But he was also not wrong. Since convincing Sarah to wear the tracker, he'd already saved a shit-ton of brunettes that would have otherwise ended up in Castle's crematorium.

"Huh," Chuck said, as the GPS pinpointed Sarah's location. It said she was right across the way, in their apartment.

Still, Chuck knew with Sarah's little spells, it was better to be safe than sorry.

He peeled himself off Casey's sofa, and walked across the courtyard.

He could hear screaming coming from inside, so he knew he had to be careful. If there was truly a dangerous person, attacking Sarah, surprise could be his ally.

Slowly, he opened the door and peek.

What he found should have surprised him, but somehow, it didn't.

Sarah was standing on the coffee table, her gun in her hand which was waving about wildly.

"Kill that bitch, Serena!" Sarah yelled. "Choke her!"

"Um, Sarah?" Chuck said meekly.

Sarah's crazed glare turned from the television to the partially open door, and as she saw him, her expression changed from complete rage, to an overwhelming smile.

"Oh, hi Chuck! I was just watching this show called Gossip Girl. It's really good, but it has this skank named Blair, who gets her paws on a guy named Chuck, and—"

"Um, Sarah?" Chuck said hesitantly. "The gun?"

"Oh! Yeah, see, Blair screwed Serena over with the Dean at Yale, so I got a little upset, and—hold on just a moment."

Sarah turned back to the television, and leveled her gun, squeezing off a round, leaving a gaping hole and sparks where Blair Waldorf's head used to be.

"All better now," she said brightly. "Care to accompany me to the bedroom?"


Present day…

"Um, yeah, that's probably why he cancelled," Sarah said. "What are you working on?" she asked, trying to distract away from the previous—admittedly still sore subject. Sarah missed her Netflix.

"Right," Jill said. "So I noticed you were limping a little yesterday."

"Yeah, my knee gets stiff sometimes."

"Uh-huh," Jill said, picking a clipboard up off her workstation and making some notes. "Have you had any unexplained fever? Headaches? Depression?"

"Well," Sarah said, "when Chuck doesn't plow me, I get pretty depressed. And I'm hot all the time."

"Right," Jill said solemnly. "Then it may be as I feared, but we should know soon enough."

"Know what?" Sarah asked threateningly.

"Well, I saw your behavior when you saw me the other day, and I had a theory, so while Chuck was distracted, I managed to draw a sample of your blood—"

"You took my blood?" Sarah boomed.

"Well, yes, but I had my reasons. Agent Walker—Sarah," Jill paused dramatically. "I think you may have rabies."

"I—what!"

"It explains everything," Jill said. "If you'll just let me finish this test, I'll be able to—"

"You'll finish nothing!" Sarah said. "You're coming with me. Back to Chuck. Then he can see that you're safe, and then I can tell him that you tried to kill me by taking my blood, so he'll let me shoot you in the stupid face!"

"I'm afraid you can't leave just yet, Agent Walker."

Sarah turned to face the still open door, and this new interloper. It was the man from the lake. Decker.

"What do you want?" Sarah said, shifting her aim to the douche in the G-Man suit.

"Well, you see…"

The man drew his pistol and leveled it at Jill's head.


A/N: A cliffhanger. Heh, I just imagine Sarah going, "Oh, I'd hand Jill over a cliff, alright. Then I'd let her go!" Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully, everyone is on the edge of their seat for the next chapter. You are, right? Of course you are! You guys are awesome. Peace.