Disclaimer: Will the real owners of Chuck please stand up? Not so fast everyone who's reading this, including me! NBC and Time Warner own Chuck. You'll own nothing and like it! Don't worry though, that just means you're like me.

A/N: I was truly staggered and exceedingly pleased by the response to the last chapter. I really can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear from all of you. Consider this chapter a reward. This was supposed to come out on Wednesday, but I was too inspired. Eventually all this inspiration is going to catch up with you!

Chapter 9: A New Hope

Chuck was still sitting on the porch after his fight with Sarah. He never heard Sarah approach him from behind. "I'm not a bird," she said coldly.

Chuck turned to look at her, she did not look particularly good. Her unhappiness was painted on her face. "It was an analogy."

"I know!" Sarah said indignantly. "I'm not some pet. I chose to do this because I care about what happens to you. That's your fault. You didn't have to make me care about you. I've never cared this much about anyone in my whole life, but you're the one that did this. It's you. And you can't just turn around after three years of making yourself the most important person in my life and then tell me I'm not allowed to care about you anymore. That I'm just supposed to leave and not look back and not wonder what happened to you. I can't, I'm not that person anymore and if you don't like it, then you have nobody to blame but yourself!" She whirled around and slammed the door as she disappeared back inside the house.

Chuck watched the door as heard Sarah banging around inside the house. They were angry sounds and he guessed she must be working in the kitchen. It was the only part of the house that had anything in it besides the bedroom. The bedroom, Chuck's mind clicked with the fact that while yes there was a furnished bedroom, there was only one queen sized bed in the house so far as he'd seen. He wasn't sure where his bed was, he'd seen some of his boxes in the house, his furniture must have arrived, but he hadn't seen it. Did Sarah actually expect them to share a bed?

Chuck's curiosity and confusion eventually led him to go back inside. He found Sarah in the most unlikely of predicaments. She was cooking. It reminded him eerily of their trip into the Suburbs years ago. "You're cooking?"

"I thought you might want to eat tonight. There's no pizza delivery here," she stated frostily.

"Sarah, I don't expect you to cook and clean for me…"

"Well what do you expect? That I should sit around with my feet up when you're hungry? How about when I'm hungry? I'm trying to build a life here. That means cooking and cleaning and yard work and decorating the house and paying bills and taking my car to get the oil changed. That's life, this is life and even if we're fighting, we still have to eat." Sarah retorted angrily.

"Can I help?" Chuck asked.

"Sure, do you know how to cook?" Sarah asked.

"A few things. What are we having?"

"Spaghetti."

"I think even the two of us will be able to manage spaghetti. Do we have spaghetti sauce?"

"No, but we have tomato sauce, tomato paste, spices and a recipe book. If you want to help you can brown the sausage."

"Sure, I can burn the sausage."

"Ha ha… The frying pans are down there, the sausage is in the fridge."

Chuck worked at Sarah's side as they made dinner. It wasn't fancy. Spaghetti, with sausage with green beans on the side, it wasn't gourmet, but it was the first meal of their lives together. Sarah looked subdued as she spun her last few noodles around her fork. Chuck decided to try and make peace. "I'm sorry I called you a bird before. You don't have bird legs, I should have realized my mistake."

Sarah's frown didn't break. "I just really thought, some part of you, might enjoy living with me."

"Sarah, I've dreamed about what this would be like, but in all those dreams you never gave up everything for me. Sometimes you chose a different life, some sacrifice…but you never threw everything away for me. Why'd you do it?"

She didn't answer right away. Her fork kept twirling across her plate. "I don't know." Sarah paused for more than a minute before she started talking again. "When I found out Beckman wanted to kill you, I freaked. Casey calmed me down and we started working on a plan. Getting you a job with the NSA…I mean, once you're part of the company, they'll protect you… But, General Beckman didn't go for it…When she decided to issue the termination order, Casey told her she could stuff it and that since his job was to protect you that he'd kill anybody else she tried to assign the job to." Sarah wasn't making eye contact, she just kept watching her fork. "Last week, after you took the test, Beckman still wasn't going for it. Your scored well enough…more than enough, but she said it was too expensive, that they couldn't watch you all the time. That you'd do something stupid and she'd eventually have to have you terminated anyway. That it was better for you in the bunker. And I knew…I knew that I'd never know that you were safe unless I was the one keeping you safe, because the minute I turned my back, Beckman would try something and I wouldn't be there to stop it."

"You could have just let me go to the bunker…" Chuck pointed out.

"No… Chuck, I couldn't. For someone like me…finding someone you really care about, finding anyone that cares more about you than they care about themselves... I couldn't just walk away and wonder."

"So this, all of this is because you didn't want to worry about me?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, not by a long shot. On our date…when you kissed me in the car, when you held my hand at dinner, when you held me, when I made you kiss me in your hotel room, that was all real, for me anyway. Maybe we can have that?"

"A date?" Chuck asked.

"No…a life, you didn't want a one night stand. So here we are, ten years, guaranteed."

Sarah finally looked up at him her gaze was probing and Chuck evaded her eyes.

"Sarah, I don't know…can you really build a relationship off mutual guilt?"

"Why do you feel guilty?" Sarah asked.

"How can I not? John Casey was Agent Casey. Everything about him was Agent Casey, there wasn't one part of his personality that wasn't born to be NSA Agent John Casey…well except the bonsai trees… And you, you're so much more, but you loved being a spy. You love traveling the world. You love knife fights in Jakarta. You're here and you're trying to be happy but the sparkle in your eye you had the day I met you, it's gone."

"The sparkle was just CIA issued eye drops Chuck…"

"No it wasn't, you used to love seducing marks. Admit it you had fun manipulating me when we first met…"

"No," Sarah shook her head. "I never enjoyed manipulating you, not once I knew you…Once I pointed my gun at you and you didn't freak out. You'd known me like thirty six hours and you trusted me even though I'd done nothing but lie to you, after that, it was never fun."

"So what, you don't want to be a spy anymore?"

Sarah surprised him by standing up. She moved over to him and pushed the card table they were using for dinner back so she could sit on his lap and she wrapped her arms around him. "I want a life, here, with you. We'll figure out the rest."

Chuck slid his arms around Sarah and held her. It was excruciating, the added weight was making folding chair he was sitting in cut into his legs, but he held her anyway.

"We should get some work done, we have to go buy furniture tomorrow."

"What should we do?"

"Let's clean up dinner and then I'll show you the downstairs."

After they put the dishes away, Sarah showed Chuck the door that led down to the finished basement. It was kind of dark down there, but all of Chuck's furniture was piled around the basement. "We can get some lamps and stuff. I just figured, you know, it'd be a good spot for you to spread out and do your thing. I'd like to put a small gym down here, other than that it's all yours."

"Thanks," Chuck said awkwardly. "I'm sleeping down here?" Chuck's bed was included along with his desk and his chair and his old couch.

"That's up to you," Sarah shrugged. "You can set your bed up down here, or in one of the guest rooms or…" Sarah trailed off. "Until we get things setup, why don't you just sleep upstairs with me?"

Chuck gave her a quizzical look. "You sure about that?"

"It's no big deal right? We've slept in the same bed a lot of times. It's not going to hurt us."

"So this is a convenience thing?"

"What is it with you and labels?" Sarah huffed.

Chuck blushed. "I just don't want to get the wrong impression."

"Let's just call it an experiment and if you're still sleeping there in a week, then we'll reevaluate the sleeping arrangements. Unfortunately, it needs to look like we share a room. So even if you don't sleep there…you still have to move in."

"For cover?" Chuck asked.

"Just in case we have nosy neighbors, you're not the only one around here being guarded, someone might decide to take a peek in the windows or something. We need to be able sell that we're a couple at least from the outside and who knows maybe you'll like sleeping with me?"

Chuck rolled his eyes at Sarah. "But we're still just sleeping right?"

"Oh, I'm making no such claims of self control. Last time I had you that close to a bed it was your propriety that stopped us. I've had to be the one with self control for years, I think it's your turn."

"So you're saying you're ready to go upstairs and go at it right now?" Chuck asked cheekily.

"Who needs to go upstairs?" Sarah challenged. "Just clear some of the boxes off of that desk..."

"Sounds magical…"

"Chuck, do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had sex?"

"Shouldn't we at least pretend to go on a few dates first?" Chuck countered.

Sarah shrugged. "Whatever."

"We're definitely going to need some rules."

Sarah had opened one of Chuck's boxes and started putting books into a book shelf. "Oh great, more rules, why are there always rules?"

"Sarah," Chuck said seriously. "We have to live together for at least ten years. I don't want to rush into something and have it be awkward for ten years. You know how much I care about you. When we get that far…I want it to be because …I want to know, it's not a cover. I know you care about me. I do, but it's been so hard to know what was real and what was cover and I do feel guilty because of what you gave up for me. Let's just…be careful."

Sarah stopped putting the books into his bookshelves and came and stood right in front of him. She ran her fingers through his hair and her eyes locked on to his. Sarah looked down for a second and then back up, like she was searching for something in his eyes. She leaned closer and Chuck was mesmerized by her gaze. Sarah shifted to the side so that her cheek rubbed against his and he felt her breath in his ear. "You're so smart," she whispered. Then she took his earlobe in her teeth and bit it gently. She elicited a noise that Chuck could only describe as a purr. Suddenly she spun around and ran up the stairs. "Come up when you get bored unpacking!" she yelled from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, God," Chuck muttered. "She's going to be trouble."

***

Chuck awoke to find Sarah snuggled into him. They hadn't gone to sleep this way. When he'd fallen asleep with the covers tucked securely under his chin, Sarah had been her normal respectful distance from him. Now her forehead was nestled against his chin, her arm was around him and she had a leg draped over him. Chuck's mutinous body was very meticulously recording the feeling of each point of contact as Sarah's breath caused alternating patters of hot and cold on a section of his chest. Chuck was frozen for his part, completely unsure what to do. His arm was trapped underneath her and there was no way he could move without waking her. It was still dark out, but there was quite literally no way he was going to be able to fall back asleep this morning. Instead he decided to lie there quietly and think about the events of the last few days.

On one hand, this was what Chuck had always dreamed of. Sarah was here with him and she said that she wanted a relationship with him. On the other, she didn't really have a choice. She was going to be stuck with him for ten years. What if it didn't work out? What if the stress of being forced to be together was more than their relationship could handle? Chuck couldn't deny that he wanted this. Sarah's head resting on his chest felt like victory, but at what cost? The thoughts kept spinning around and around inside his head and after a couple hours of this self inflicted torment he'd worked himself into quite a mood. He thought Sarah was still asleep, until he felt a gentle kiss on his jugular that made him shiver.

"You're thinking too much," Sarah mumbled.

"What?" Chuck asked.

"You're thinking too much, knock it off, it's keeping me awake."

"You can hear me thinking now?"

Sarah shushed him and attempted to snuggle closer to him, considering that she was mostly laying on top of him this proved a challenge. It did however allow her to get her body between Chuck's arm and his torso freeing his arm. Chuck curled it around her and used his newly freed arm to rub her side gently. This elicited an approving noise from Sarah so he continued stroking. His hand sliding down until he reached the hem of her shirt, when it slid back the other direction it slipped slightly under Sarah's top. Chuck froze.

For a moment nothing happened, but then a very irritated sounding Sarah grumbled. "Well don't stop!"

"Sorry," Chuck said. "I didn't realize what I was doing, my hand just sort of ended up inside your shirt."

Sarah's head left his chest and suddenly her beautiful blue eyes were squinting at him in the early dawn light. "See, now you're thinking too much again, what did I tell you about that?"

"Sorry, I just…"

"Chuck, you can tell me whatever you want, but if your hand doesn't start moving again in the next five seconds, I'm going to be tired, aroused and irritated."

Chuck frowned at her. "You're aroused, just from that?"

"Chuck," Sarah said in a very irritated voice. "I haven't had sex in three years, eight months aaaaaannnnd twenty one days now. When you're in the same area code, I'm aroused. When you're lying in my bed cuddling me, with your hand under my shirt, I'm halfway home."

"Wait you know the exact numbers of days?"

Sarah huffed. "When I really need to think about something else, or risk attacking you, I do the math in my head."

"Wow," Chuck shook his head. "You're cute when you're nerdy." Sarah rolled her eyes. "You know there are other ways to help relieve the… er…tension."

"Yes, I know," Sarah nodded and then she looked down at him with a very serious expression. "But after three years, eight months and twenty one days, even those start wear pretty thin. I mean there are some I haven't tried of course…smoking…compulsive eating…golf, but unless you really want me to take one of those up, you're gunna have to help me out…hopefully soon." Sarah rolled over to her own side of the bed. "You know I almost killed you when you shot me down in your hotel room."

"I didn't realize you thought about sex this much."

"I don't!" Sarah objected. "Well I didn't used to. I mean, I never even really liked sex that much until… well that's not important, but you spend years going out on cover dates with a guy you really like and cuddling and kissing in front of his family and suddenly every time he brushes against you, you can't stop thinking about it and it gets worse and worse and …" Sarah trailed off. "Are we having sex this morning?"

"I don't think so…"

"Then I'm going to go take a shower."

Sarah hopped out of bed and Chuck felt his eyes burning as he watched her walk away in her boy short panties.

"I really have to get my own bed setup today," he muttered.