summary: Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they find a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.
a/n: Christmas in July, too! In my defence, I did write this chapter in December, so you're only seeing it now due to my laziness rather than my habit for writing holidays in the complete wrong seasons. You're also getting it a day earlier than planned, due to my pre-emptive laziness! I'm busy with birthday stuff these next couple days, and I thought I'd post this early rather than late. This is kinda a long one, I felt we had a lot to deal with, a lot to get over, and I wanted to introduce a sorta familiar character in person, too. Thank you for your responses on the last chapter, most of you were very kind. I love these characters, and I'm trying to write them in the ways that best fits the people we loved from canon, just shifted to fit this universe, so your lovely feedback is always appreciated. Anyway, here's Chapter 9, I'm gonna go enjoy my birthday weekend! And if you enjoy the chapter, please leave a review!
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, eggnog, charms, or mothers.
The Gift
When she reaches a lull in her work, she sits back, stretches a little, and reaches into her bag, pulling out a yellow envelope. She'd found it in the mail box this morning, address handwritten on it in an unfamiliar scrawl, but since they'd been running late to get Amy to daycare and for Sarah to still get to work on time, she'd just stuffed it into her bag and hurried to her car.
Now, though, she's got some free time, and she cuts open the envelope swiftly, tugging out the contents and looking at them.
"Oh," she says in surprise, blinking, looking at the photographs in her hands. A note is in amongst them all, handwritten too, and Sarah smiles as she reads it.
Sarah,
I thought you'd like some of these. They turned out great.
-Ellie
There's a little smiley face after the doctor's name, too, which makes Sarah chuckle.
Looking at the photographs, from Thanksgiving last month, Sarah has to agree. They're great. She's always loved taking pictures with Amy, keeping permanent memories and reminders with her little girl, and she finds herself just taking more and more as Amy grows, as they do more things to document. These photos, then, are no exception. The big group shots are funny, everyone laughing, and the last one of them is especially great, with Ellie and Devon smirking at each other, Morgan laughing into his hand, and Sarah and Amy both looking up at Chuck, Amy giggling, as Chuck laughs down at her. It's brilliant, it almost looks like something perfect from a Hallmark card.
At least, Sarah thinks it does, until she shifts through to the pictures of her and Amy. The candids are beautiful, sweet and real, and the ones with Chuck, though posed, look just... They look like a family, the three of them. But there's a picture Sarah hadn't even known was taken, one that must have been just before they'd smiled at the camera, and it looks truly, truly perfect. Chuck is tickling Amy's stomach, the little girl mid-giggle, beaming wide, and Sarah is smiling down at her too. She thinks, absentmindedly, that she'll need to get some new photo frames for her desk, even though she's got so many already there's basically no space for more. But this picture needs framed, and she wants to put the group picture on display, too. So anyone who sees her desk can see the friends, the family, the life she has. It's a little proud for her, she knows, but she almost wants to show it off to everyone.
As she adds photo frames to the ever-present shopping list in her head, she pulls out her cell phone, dialing Ellie's number and tapping her pencil against the desk as she waits to see if the doctor will pick up. After a few rings, she does.
"Sarah, hey," she says, smile in her voice. "Did you get the photographs?"
"I did," She grins. "That's kinda why I'm calling. Thank you, Ellie, they're great, I love them. I'm gonna put some up on my desk at work."
Ellie chuckles.
"I'm glad you like them. I sent a couple to Chuck, too, they just turned out so good."
She smiles at that, though wonders just what Chuck might have done with his copies, if he'll have framed his too and put them up in his apartment, or if he's maybe put them in his locker at the Buy More, or if, maybe, he's done nothing at all. Maybe after how Thanksgiving went, he wouldn't want reminders of it in plain view. Though these photos are a happy memory, other moments from that day, the way she'd acted, are much less so. Shaking her head, she moves on.
"Well, I actually also wanted to call to ask you something about Chuck?"
"Oh yeah?" Ellie asks, a lead in her voice, and Sarah tries not to roll her eyes. Not that, Ellie.
"Amy wants to get him something for Christmas, and she's got her own ideas, but I thought he might appreciate something more than just a drawing, or funny socks she found in a store. Currently, those are her plans,"
A snort of laughter sounds on the line before Ellie clears her throat.
"Okay. And you don't know what to get him?"
"No. I mean, I thought video games or something, but I don't know what he's already got and I don't want to get him something he wouldn't like." She's tried to wrack her brain for ideas, but she's coming up short. It's hard to know what to buy the guy you've kissed and who your daughter adores but who you've also led to believe you don't want to be with, on fear of him being killed by a rogue CIA prisoner.
"Yeah," Ellie hums thoughtfully, pausing. "I, um, I do actually have another photo, I don't think you knew I took it, so I didn't send it to you, but I don't think Chuck did either, so I haven't really known what to do with it. It would be nice, to give it to him."
She nods, even while curious about what this picture may be.
"That could work. I've got another photograph I quite like, I could give him that one, too. He, um, he and Amy both fell asleep on the couch one night, watching a movie," she says, blushing for some reason and feeling glad Ellie can't see her across the phone. "I showed it to him, but he's probably forgotten about it."
Ellie chuckles.
"That's a little like the one I have, I think. Those would be nice, with something from Amy, too. And maybe, I don't know, some kinda scotch? Like a little bottle? Or something nerdy, maybe? Chuck isn't very picky, Sarah, trust me."
"Okay," She laughs, making a mental note to try and find something nerdy in a store. "I'll do those, then."
"Speaking of, what do you guys do for Christmas? I, uh, I won't invite you for another holiday, I promise, I'm just curious." Ellie says, and Sarah laughs softly.
"We have our own Christmas Eve thing, there's this old Sesame Street movie we've watched the past couple years, right before Amy goes to bed, so we'll do that again. And she gets to open one present the night before, I got her a little... dollhouse castle thing. Other than that, it's just cocoa, leaving out milk and cookies, normal stuff. I'll end up trying not to wake Amy up when I set out all the presents—she's got really good hearing," Ellie laughs down the line, and Sarah grins, though she wasn't quite joking. Amy's ears seem to be tuned to the sound of crinkling paper, some days, and she's sure it's the three-year-old version of spy senses activating. "And then I'm heading to my mother's after Christmas, for New Year's. She'll spoil Amy totally, I'm sure."
"That sounds nice," Ellie says, a smile in her voice. "A Bartowski Christmas is a little weird, we watch The Twilight Zone in our pajamas,"
Sarah laughs.
"Of course you do, of course Chuck does. Is he spending Christmas with you guys, then?"
"Yeah," she hums. "I mean, he's moved out, obviously, but we still like to do most holidays together. I think it just being us together growing up, developing our own traditions, it's kinda hard to want to do much else. Although, if there was a good enough reason, I'm sure we could bring in new traditions..."
Sarah knows what Ellie is hinting at, quite clearly, actually. That perhaps the Walker Christmas traditions wouldn't be so hard for the Bartowskis to take up.
And so she forces a soft laugh, shakes her head, relieved when she sees one of her team standing up at their desk, grabbing papers, likely heading her way.
"Ugh, okay, I need to get back to work, I'm calling you in my office, which I'm not really supposed to be doing."
"Alright, talk to you later, Sarah- and I'll send you that photo," she says, almost conspiratorially. "I'll mail the copies today, you should get it in a couple days."
"Thanks, Ellie," Despite herself, she smiles. Ellie is a good friend, and though Sarah hates herself for essentially lying to the woman about herself and Chuck, even about her past, and Bryce, she also appreciates her friendship, her kindness, sending her photographs and helping organize a gift for Chuck.
"Bye," Ellie murmurs, a smile in her voice, and with that, the phone clicks off.
Sarah heaves a heavy breath as she slumps forward in her chair. In the few times they've spoken since Thanksgiving, Ellie has increasingly become less and less subtle in her hints about Sarah and Chuck, even though nothing new has happened since that holiday. Nothing has changed.
They've had movie nights, still, with Chuck coming over after dinner, watching a movie, Amy wedged between him and Sarah, and when the movie wraps up Amy goes to bed and Chuck goes home, and Sarah sits in her apartment, alone. She's had no further visits from Bryce, no signs of Caria moving in, no sense again that someone is watching her, closing on them, trying to hurt them. It's all just the same. Except Chuck kissed her, and it was amazing, and he thinks she's not interested, and she's pretending she's not interested, but she doesn't want to push him away because she is very much interested, and it's just tough. It would be tough without a three-year-old involved, but with Amy in the mix, increasingly happiest when Chuck is around, increasingly becoming attached to him, and attached to him with Sarah, it's basically impossible. She doesn't know what he must think of her, after Thanksgiving. Saying she can't be with him, and then a half hour later clinging to his hand, sleeping on his shoulder. She's heard of mixed messages before, but she's pretty sure her messages were polar opposites. She just doesn't know what to do, where to go. If Chuck got hurt because of her, she knows she'd never forgive herself. But staying back is hurting them, too- running away from every moment, never talking things through, she hates that.
She sighs, looks at the picture of the three of them again, that candid one. Amy's looking at Chuck adoringly, mid-giggle, and Sarah's looking down at her with a loving grin. And Chuck, looks exactly the same as her. Warm smile, affection in his eyes, caring for the little girl. They made it there even after that kiss, so Sarah knows, they can get there again. They just need to regain their equilibrium, their balance, get things back together, controlled. And take it slow.
And hopefully, Sarah thinks, Christmas will be the time to do that. She's not sure when, yet, but she knows a day with Chuck sometime in the holiday will be necessary, to exchange gifts but also to spend time with him before they part, if Chuck is going to Ellie's on Christmas Day and Sarah and Amy are flying to her mother's on the 26th, not returning until early January. Hopefully, that day, they can get back to where they should be. When it's just the three of them, uncomplicated, warm and loving, like a family. Or at least letting them pretend to be one.
But she'll think about how to do that tomorrow, during their movie night, not today. Today, she's got more work to do, and an evening of Christmas decorating with her daughter planned. Seeing that a member of her team is indeed standing outside her door, poised to knock, she waves them in, letting work take over. Worrying about Chuck can be for another day.
"Mommy, when's he coming here?" Amy calls, and Sarah pretends they didn't just have this conversation ten minutes ago.
"It should be soon, baby, he had work, remember?"
Amy sighs, looks back at her coloring sadly, swinging her feet in the air where she lies on her stomach.
"I know." She sounds a little sad, and Sarah pulls a face.
"Ames, c'mere," she says, and Amy stands, heading over to the couch. Sarah scoops her up, sits her in her lap. "Chuck is a great friend, but you know he has his own life, and his job, and his friends. You know he can't be here all the time."
"I know," Amy repeats, pouting and chewing on her lip. "I wish he was."
She smiles sadly, strokes Amy's hair. Sometimes, with all the fairy tales and dreamy stories they watch and read, the little girl can believe a little too much in the power of wishes.
"He can't be, baby. I mean, I'm not here all the time, I work, and you go to daycare, spend time with Jenny and your friends."
"Not all the time," Amy clarifies, like she'd meant that from the start. "I wish he's here when you and me are here."
Sarah holds back an aching sigh.
"But that would mean he wouldn't get to see Dr Ellie, or Morgan... It wouldn't be fair to him. I'm your Mom, that's why I get to be here all the time." She nuzzles Amy's cheek, and the little girl giggles.
"Okay." With that, she plants a kiss on Sarah's cheek, and Sarah chuckles just as a knock sounds on their door. Amy pulls back and gasps. "Chuck!"
And with that, Sarah knows the entire conversation she's had with her daughter is basically moot. She rolls her eyes not unkindly as she stands, heads to the door, Amy jumping up and down at the side happily. Sarah had tried to stop checking the peephole when she heard a knock on her door, Chuck's knock being so upbeat and silly she can recognize it by ear, but when Bryce had told her about Caria, she'd started again, even if the knock sounds the same. All it would take would be Caria watching Chuck one time, then copying it, and he'd have a free pass into her home. To Amy.
She'd forgotten how entirely paranoid the spy life makes you.
Pushing those unhappy thoughts away- it's Christmas Eve, after all-, she checks it is indeed Chuck waiting in the hall, and when it is, opens the door.
"Hey," he says, smiling all slow, and Sarah takes in his appearance of jeans, a Christmas t-shirt, and hands full of shiny Christmas gift bags, before Amy bounces into view.
"Chuck Chuck Chuck!" she chants, and the man in question laughs.
"Hey, bug," She rushes to hug him and he holds up the bags. "Wait a second, let me put these down first,"
Sarah steps aside, and he moves past her with a smile, setting down the gifts before he turns to Amy, who's already launching herself at him. He deftly catches her in mid-air, and she squeals as he tickles her sides before hugging her close.
And Sarah just watches, closing the door, heart yearning. She'd never imagined she'd find anyone as good with Amy as Chuck is, not in a million years.
He turns to her with another smile, settles Amy on his hip.
"Hey," he repeats, apparently realizing his first hello got lost in Hurricane Amy.
Sarah grins.
"Hi, Chuck,"
He leans down, plants a brief kiss to her cheek, making her heart flutter just a bit.
"Merry Christmas. And..." He looks back at Amy, boops her nose. "Merry Christmas, Amy."
She cheers, wiggling in his grip, and he laughs as he sets her on the ground, moves to the bags. One is labeled Amy, the other Sarah, both shining red, though Amy's is a little larger, unsurprisingly to Sarah. There's already a ridiculous amount of presents for the three-year-old stuffed into her closet, under her bed, hidden in drawers. Thankfully, Amy's past her overly inquisitive stage, no, that was last Christmas, when she'd almost found half of her gifts as she waddled around their apartment and opened every shelf and drawer and door she could just for fun. This year, Amy hasn't found any, much to Sarah's relief.
Amy gasps, reaching for her bag, and Chuck keeps one hand on it as she tugs it over to the tree, sets it underneath with the few presents she's received from other people, next to the one gift Sarah had placed there early this morning that Amy will open in a couple hours.
"Ames?" She calls, and Amy looks around, hair flying. "D'you wanna go get Chuck his gifts? Be very careful with them, though,"
Amy nods with a grin, running off to her room, and Sarah just hopes the bag isn't too heavy. The frames are light, and the bottle of scotch she'd gotten him was just a miniature, so Amy should be fine.
"How's she been today?" Chuck asks, smirking a little, and Sarah shrugs.
"As excited as you can imagine. I kept her occupied, though, we baked some sugar cookies, she did a lot of crafts." She points to a popsicle stick Christmas tree, hanging on their own Christmas tree, the decoration covered in stickers and glitter and blotchy paint.
"Wow."
Sarah chuckles.
"How was work?"
"Ugh, busy," he says, pulling a face. "Why do people leave important shopping until Christmas Eve? Do they know we don't reduce the prices of laptops on the 24th just out of the goodness of our hearts? We have sales in November for a reason," He rolls his eyes, and she can't help but chuckle and step in, rubbing his arm a little.
"Would you like a drink? I have eggnog, the spiked variety." She narrows her eyes teasingly, and he grins, warm and melting.
"Anyone ever tell you you're a lifesaver, Sarah Walker?"
She smirks.
"A couple times."
As she heads to the kitchen, feeling his eyes on her back, she hears light yet heavy footsteps, and turns to see Amy carefully walking out of her room, stomping a little as she tries to control her steps. She's holding a gift bag in her hands, the handle above her head so the bag doesn't touch the ground as she walks, and Sarah smiles at the sweet, determined sight.
Chuck swoops in, saying what a great job Amy did and taking the bag, and Sarah chuckles as she hears Amy giggle proudly. Heating up a spiked eggnog for herself and Chuck, and a mug of warm milk for Amy, since the little girl doesn't like the unspiked version of the holiday drink, Sarah soon walks through to the living room again, balancing all three mugs. Chuck takes one with a grateful smile, and she hands Amy hers carefully.
"Wait a minute or two, baby, it's hot,"
Amy nods seriously, holding the cup with both her little hands and setting it on a coaster on the coffee table.
Sarah sits next to Chuck on the couch, and they both listen to Amy telling some tale as they slowly sip their drinks. Eventually, Sarah leans forward, grins at her daughter.
"Ames? D'you wanna open some presents?"
Amy gasps, leaps toward her, and Sarah only just has time to pass her mug of eggnog to Chuck before Amy crashes into her lap.
"Yes! Yes yes yes-"
"Okay, okay, calm down, baby." Giggling, Amy bounces up and down in her lap, blinking up at her and Chuck.
"'m calm."
"Okay, you can open your special present and then the gifts Chuck got you, yeah?" She turns to Chuck. "I thought we could do presents tonight, so Amy can thank you,"
"Yeah." Chuck grins. "I was hoping to give you yours in person,"
She blinks, because she hadn't really thought about what Chuck would get her, then sets a wriggly Amy down on the floor, watching as she rushes over to the tree. She tugs out the big wrapped box Sarah had put there earlier, using all her might to shuffle it a bit over the floor, until she flops down to sit, looking over at Sarah for approval.
"Yeah, go, Ames," she says, as she stands from the couch and moves around to sit near the tree too, in case Amy needs help opening any gifts, and Chuck follows suit, sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out long in front of him. Amy tears at the paper, throwing it wildly behind her, and Sarah tries not to groan but doesn't bother holding Amy back. Her glee is infectious, really, and Sarah would never want to stop it. Eventually, she's got most of the wrapping off, and she looks at the box with wide eyes.
"I love it!" She squeals, throwing her arms around Sarah, and Sarah chuckles as she cuddles her back. "Can I open it now, Mommy?"
"How about you open Chuck's presents first and then I'll see if I can get it out the box, yeah?"
At the prospect of more presents, Amy nods, and Sarah helps her move the bag Chuck had brought over, lightly tipping it so Amy can pull the wrapped gifts out of the bag. Once she's got them in her hands, she tears off the wrapping paper with her usual abandon, revealing toys that match the castle dollhouse Sarah had bought her, and Amy gasps. Chuck sends Sarah a wink, and she grins in reply. Much like she'd consulted Ellie for ideas, Chuck had been unsure of what to get Amy, so Sarah had given him a list. It looks like he delivered. There's a few more gifts than Sarah had suggested to him, though, so when Amy tugs out more out, Sarah's unsure what they may be.
The first turns out to be a t-shirt, light blue in color, with the word 'Bug' printed on the front, and Amy blinks at it.
"It says bug, bug," Chuck says, and she goes wide-eyed as she clutches the little shirt to her chest with a giggle. Chuck grins, turns to Sarah. "It's age 4 and a half sized, so she should get some time outta it,"
She just smiles at him softly, warmed by him always thinking of things like that, and turns back to find Amy opening another gift, a small rectangular box this time. Sarah recognizes the design printed on the outside of the box, and raises an eyebrow Chuck's way even as she reaches to Amy and helps her open the thing. When she pulls out the polystyrene top, a purple controller lies inside.
"Ooh, ooh, for Chuck's games!" Amy says elatedly, and when she takes it out to look at, Chuck leans in.
"Turn it over, bug," She does, and there, on the back, printed in silver, is the word Amy. Her very own personalized video game controller. "This way, when you come play games, you'll have your own controller to play with."
Amy nods fervently, running her finger over the name, before poking at a few of the buttons.
"I love it!"
"What do you say, baby?" Sarah prompts, smiling at Amy's enthusiasm.
"Thank you, Chuck," She crawls over her gifts and makes her way to Chuck, hugging him tightly, and he chuckles softly before pulling back.
"You're welcome, Ames." She clambers back to her things, and Sarah looks at Chuck again as she leans over, starts opening up the dollhouse box for Amy to look at. He catches her eye and keeps speaking, a little quieter. "I know she doesn't play them much, but she was talking about them at movie night a couple weeks back, and I found this place online that does cheap personalization. I got one for Morgan, then I got Amy's half price."
Well, that eases Sarah's worry that it was an expensive gift, and she has no problem with it, but she now rather thinks they might as well get a matching games console so Amy can use the controller more than the few times she's played on Chuck's system. She'll think on that later, though, as she tugs out the castle, sets it in front of Amy, opens one of the packs of toys Chuck had bought so she can play a little.
"I'm gonna get some more drinks," she says, as she stands and collects the cups.
"You gotta open your presents, Mommy." Amy states, sounding a little aghast, and Sarah grins.
"I know, baby, I'll just get you some more milk and you can look at your castle while Chuck and I get our presents, yeah?"
"Okay." She nods, and as Sarah heats some more drinks she watches as Chuck shuffles over to Amy, helps her open little parts of the castle, opening a door, moving some stairs. She smiles, once more so keenly aware of just how good he is with Amy, how much he gets her, how well she responds to him.
When she comes back, fresh drinks in hand, Chuck has shifted back and his bag of presents is in front of him, Sarah's in the empty space where she's due to sit. She hands Chuck his mug, sets Amy's down on the coffee table since the little girl is still engrossed with her new toy. She's making someone walk about in the castle, humming a little.
"Me first?" Chuck asks, sounding a little like an eager child, a little like Amy, even, and Sarah chuckles into her eggnog as she sits down.
"Sure."
He pulls out Amy's gifts initially, first a drawing covered in glitter, with a squiggle supposed to be Chuck plus two squiggles supposed to be Sarah and Amy. Sarah had had to get Amy to triple check who was who before she wrote little annotations at the bottom.
"We're at the park." Amy states soundly, nodding as she looks over from the dollhouse, and Chuck hums.
"We should go to the park."
"We should," Sarah says, smiling, adding that to the list of things to do after New Year's. Next Chuck pulls out the craft Amy had made, a block of wood decorated with various things, dried pasta among other items. Sarah had drawn 'Chuck' in a neat outline at Amy's insistence, and the word is still more or less visible now, each letter filled in.
"You are quite the artist, bug," he says, and Amy looks up from her toy again, beams. Chuck smiles as he sets the block down, pulling out the novelty socks. Sarah had been right, Amy had proudly chosen a ridiculous pair with fuzzy pompoms acting as reindeer noses on the toes. Chuck blinks. "Sarah, your daughter has an eclectic taste,"
She snorts, swats his arm, and he fakes diving out of the way as he reaches back into the bag. They're now onto her gifts for him, and Sarah ignores the slight butterflies filling her stomach at the idea. She's a little nervous, with their history, about how he might take the photographs. Are images of them, so blissful and idyllic and happy, paired with what he thinks she feels for him, or doesn't feel, just leading him on? Is their whole relationship, him being here, just that right now? Giving him false hope for something she doesn't know can ever happen?
Since the frames are wrapped and in Chuck's reach, she can hardly undo it all now.
He finds the scotch first, declaring it fancy and nodding approvingly, then the book Sarah had only found a couple days ago in a bookstore near her office. It's titled 'The Ultimate Book of the Nerd', a silly parody book, and as Chuck flicks through a few pages he snorts in amusement, and she grins. And then, come the photographs, set in a matching pair of wooden frames she'd bought. They're both wrapped together, just individually in bubble wrap beneath the paper, and she takes a gulp of eggnog as he tears open the wrapping, curious look on his face.
When he undoes the bubble wrap on both, the look falls.
"Oh." He blinks at both pictures- the first the one Ellie had sent. It's of Chuck and Sarah and Amy on the couch, at Thanksgiving. Both girls are asleep, and Chuck is sat watching the TV, head resting against Sarah's, hand modestly resting on her leg. Ellie must have snapped it during You've Got Mail. When Sarah had first laid eyes on it, her heart had started pounding in her chest, out of control, and it still makes her feel about the same now. It just looks so perfect, so simple, even though that day had been anything but between her and Chuck. It shows the ease she has, with him, to let her guard down like that, fall asleep by his side. Her spy instincts and training may be long since faded now, but she rarely trusts someone the way she trusts Chuck, and to see that printed in living color, tangible in her hand, had almost been overwhelming. To realize what she has, here, and what she has to lose. The second photograph is the one of him and Amy asleep on the couch in this very room, Amy curled up next to Chuck while he dozed, after that long shift he'd had. Sarah loves it just as much now as she did then. Both pictures, perfect, them. Sleeping, no pretences, no drama and struggles.
"I wanted you to have them," she murmurs, not quite looking at him.
"I'd never seen this one." He lifts the one from Thanksgiving. "Was that..."
"Yeah. Ellie sent it to me. I just, I like how we look in it. Normal." She shrugs a shoulder. "Happy."
When things had, for a point, felt anything but.
He looks up at her, licks his lips, nods.
"Me too."
"And- and the other one is just... sweet." She clears her throat, forces herself to meet his gaze full-on. He is as open as ever, eyes boring into hers, oh so intense. She can't look away. "Chuck, you're a very big, and a very important part of our lives. Both of us."
He nods.
"I know."
"No." she says, because she really doesn't think he does. He raises an eyebrow, gaze questioning, and she hates the way her breath trembles as she holds it. "I mean it, both of us. I know that, that I'm not very good at being clear about this, and... I'm sorry, about that. But you're so important to us. I hope you know that." She widens her eyes, imploring, begging him to understand. That just because they can't be together, right now, that she can't do this because she needs to keep him safe, just because of that it doesn't mean that she doesn't care about him. Because she does, oh, so much.
His eyes glinting, realization dawning, he sniffs, nods, looks away.
"I do." He clears his throat. "You should get to yours."
Taking the out as she knows he wants her to, she opens her bag, seeing three wrapped things inside. One is suspiciously bottle-shaped, and when she opens it she finds a bottle of not-that-cheap wine, red.
He shrugs, smirks.
"I figured I owed you back for the movie night that time,"
She narrows her eyes, thinking back to that night after Halloween. That he's remembered it isn't really surprising, it was an important night for them, but that he's thought to owe her back and then some just for a glass of wine, is a little different. It's somehow very Chuck.
"You know you didn't owe me anything for that." She mutters, looking at the bottle again. "But this looks really nice,"
"Well, I try," he says, with a crooked grin, and she ignores the way her pulse begins to race at just the sight of him as she sets the bottle down and reaches for her next gift. When she unwraps it, she finds a set of three books, historically-set. "I noticed you had a couple on your shelves. I don't suppose you get much time to read, with the bug, but it gives you a start, I guess," As he chuckles a little self-deprecatingly, she tries not to shake her head. Just how observant is this damn man? Spying books she has on her shelf, and somehow guessing one of her favorite genres (romance is often too sappy for her, and spy or crime thrillers are a little too close to her once-home, but historical fiction tends to suit her just nicely), then getting her some for Christmas? He's unbelievable, in so many ways.
Thanking him and setting the books down, she reaches for the final gift. It feels soft beneath the wrapping, and she opens it to find a little mesh jewelry bag, something chained and silver nestled inside.
"Oh," she says, much like Chuck had with the photographs, and he shuffles a little closer.
"Can I-?"
She nods, hands him the bag, and he undoes the strings, lifts out the item inside, holds it up so it catches the light.
"Oh," she says again. It's a charm bracelet. Not new, she thinks, but loved, worn, with a history. "It's beautiful."
Chuck smiles, lifts half his mouth.
"It's good luck, or so we've always said." He undoes the catch, opens it, and Sarah lifts her sleeve so her wrist is free, reaching out. He fastens the bracelet on as he keeps speaking. "It was my mom's charm bracelet, my dad gave it to her, when Ellie was born."
Her jaw drops as she looks down at the precious item on her wrist, with a history indeed. Even though she knows she has to protest, she reaches out, touches it with her other hand, feels the cool metal, the detailed charms.
"Oh, Chuck, I can't take this," she says, feeling the weight of its history, its meaning. This is an heirloom, as old as Ellie, worn by Chuck's mother who isn't in their lives anymore. Sarah can't have it, she just can't, it's not fair. "This is something important, something you should give to someone important, someone who's gonna be here, someone you..."
She trails off as Chuck nods, shrugging a shoulder. His hands still hold her right, where the bracelet sits, and oh so slowly his thumb sweeps up and down the back of her hand, touch searing as ever.
"I know," he murmurs, voice so soft. "Both of you, right?"
Oh god, she thinks, as she looks into his eyes, sees the truth there, the acceptance. This man, this wonderful man, has completely fallen for her, and though he thinks she can't return that, he's still giving her this, something so significant, so big.
She shakes her head, but it's not in refusal. How could she ever make him take this back? Not when she actually does feel for him, a lot, not when she wishes she could be that person to be there with him, that someone important, wholly, truly, not just at a distance. Not when, if it seems he's fallen for her, then she's definitely fallen for him, too. She leans in, slips her arms around him, feeling him sigh against her shoulder when she rests against him. She feels so right, being held by him, like this is where she's supposed to be, her, and Chuck, her daughter just an arm's length away.
When she pulls back, Chuck sends her a crooked smile, small, one she returns in kind, but she keeps her hands on his arm, slips them down until they find his hand, and she moves so she's leaning back against him, moving his arm around her until he gets what she's intending, and he encircles her waist, gently, softly. She rests her head back against his shoulder, relishes in the calm, the warmth, and he pulls her in a little closer as they both watch Amy, the little girl still humming, moving toys around. She must feel the eyes on them, for she looks up, grins happily, then looks back down again, thinking absolutely nothing of her mother being so close to their neighbor, not even blinking.
Because Sarah knows Amy already thinks of Chuck as a staple in their lives, her protests before he arrived this evening showed that, the way she hadn't wanted to let go of him at Thanksgiving, the way she loves their movie nights, the way she'd wanted to give him so many things for Christmas. The drawing she'd worked on, the three of them together, at the park, already changed from the first picture she'd drawn Chuck. Then, it was just him- and a lizard. Now, it's the three of them, one little unit. Because that's what she thinks of them as, now. And that's what Sarah thinks of them as now, too.
She just takes a deep breath, leans back against Chuck and nestles into his arms, rests her hand over his own on her hip, and takes it all in.
She holds back a yawn as she steps out of the cab, Amy sleepily in tow. Flights always seem to take it out of the little girl, more than road trips or trains ever do, and Sarah always finds if she seems tired, Amy latches onto it, and gets more tired herself.
The cab driver hops around to the trunk, helps in lifting the three very heavy bags out of the car and onto the sidewalk, and Sarah smiles gratefully as she pays the man, tipping generously. It's the day after Christmas, after all.
"Mommy," Amy says, reaching up her arms, and Sarah strokes her little girl's hair as she shakes her head.
"I gotta carry these bags, baby, just go up the steps, it's not a long walk."
Sighing, Amy trudges up the stairs, and Sarah tries not to frown as she hauls two of their suitcases up onto the porch, followed by the other one, that one mainly full of gifts. A few are wrapped, about to be opened, but most are the ones Amy couldn't bear to part with so soon after opening them, and so they'd had to journey to the Midwest with them. Sarah knows more gifts will just have to come back with them to LA when they return, but Amy was a little down as they packed things yesterday evening, and she hadn't been able to say no to taking some extra items.
Though Christmas carried her through, Sarah knows Amy was a little sad when Chuck had left them on Christmas Eve, and once the presents and Christmas TV were over on the 25th, dinner complete, Amy had kept looking over at the door, a little wanting, a little morose. Maybe it's just Chuck, maybe it's the holiday in general, but adding a long journey to it seems to have made her even more downtrodden, much to Sarah's displeasure. She ruffles Amy's hair as she reaches her on the porch, scooping her up now as she rings the doorbell.
A few moments later, the door opens, and her mother appears on the other side, smiling warmly.
"There's my girls," She says with a grin, and thankfully Amy perks up, giggling. "Come here, sweetie," Emma reaches for the little girl, and Amy goes willingly, cuddling into her grandmother, stepping back as Sarah steps inside, one of the suitcases in hand.
"Hey, Mom," she murmurs, giving her mother a one-armed hug so as not to crush Amy. Emma beams, reaching up and cupping Sarah's cheek. It's almost like she knows that maybe both of them could do with some comforting right now.
"Hi, honey. How are you, how was the journey?" she asks, stepping back.
Sarah shrugs, brings in the next two suitcases with Emma still holding Amy.
"Long. We were late leaving, a passenger not on board or something, I don't know." She darts her eyes to Amy, currently yawning, and Emma nods, understanding why the littlest member of the family is a little more sleepy than usual. "But I'm good, tired."
"Okay, time for coffee and something to eat, I think," She bounces Amy. "Then presents, huh?"
Amy giggles again, nodding.
"Presents."
Tapping Amy's nose, Emma sways through the house to where Sarah knows the kitchen is, and she stays in the entranceway as she watches her mother go. Kneeling down, she tugs open one of the bags, pulls out the wrapped gifts for her mom. They're just generic nice things, gloves, candles, a thick-knit cardigan. Strangely enough, in the end it was easier for Sarah to think of stuff to get for Chuck than it was for her mother. The rift between them isn't as big as it used to be, but they're hardly at the World's Best Mom mug and socks gift set stage, and that's all a quick internet search had managed to suggest a daughter buy her mother.
As the scent of coffee fills the air, quiet conversation drifting from the kitchen, Sarah stands again, this time looking around her mother's home. She's been here so few times, the first being that time she'd visited with Amy just a few months old. It was only the third time Sarah had seen her mother since she was a child- the first and second was when Emma had come to visit her in Washington and then New York when Sarah was pregnant, just after she'd called to break the news.
In amongst all the awkwardness, the sense of barely knowing the woman in front of her, when her mother had hugged her for the first time in years, a peace had come over Sarah. A sense that it was all going to be okay. It was the first time she'd felt that since marching out of the CIA headquarters, gun-less and badge-less.
And so she still doesn't really know this home, only visits a few times a year, but she swears each time she's here there's a new decoration on a shelf, a new trinket, a new homely little thing. Most shelves, though, are proudly decorated with pictures of Sarah, and Amy. Sarah as a child, then Amy, her double at the same age. Various ones of them both together, Sarah holding her little girl. That picture of Sarah, sleeping with baby Amy on her chest, sits proudly on the mantle.
It's like Emma likes to show her family to all who visits, like she's proud of that. Similar to how Sarah had felt in wanting to put one of the group photos of everyone from Thanksgiving up on her desk at work, and the one of her, Chuck, and Amy. A family. For all to see.
"Sarah?" Emma calls.
The name always sounds so odd coming from her, Sarah thinks. It's the same soft tone her mother has always had, the same kindness, but in a different name to the one she'd said when Sarah was growing up. She turns, seeing her mother behind her, a coffee in hand, Amy following behind and clutching a sandwich. Emma offers one of the cups, and Sarah smiles and takes it gratefully. When she reaches out, the bracelet on her wrist glints in the light. She hasn't been able to take it off.
"Thanks," she murmurs, sipping the drink, but Emma quirks an eyebrow.
"That's a nice bracelet. Was that a gift?"
"Yeah! Chuck gave it to Mommy!" Amy says happily, gnawing on her snack, completely unaware of the weight of what she's saying.
Emma blinks.
"Chuck?"
"Um." Sarah swallows, wondering quite how to get out of explaining all this while Amy's still here. She smiles at her little girl, leaning down and wiping a couple of crumbs from her cheek. "Let's sit down and open presents, then we'll talk, yeah bug?"
Thankfully, Amy nods, not saying more about Chuck, and she hops over to the Christmas tree in her grandmother's living room, flopping down onto the carpeted floor and giggling excitedly at the many shining gifts underneath. Emma sends Sarah a look, but moves forward anyway, and Sarah brings over the presents she'd pulled out of the suitcase as Amy starts excitedly unwrapping her gifts. Once more, there are toys, shoes and clothes, in multitudes, some of the toys matching the brand of the dollhouse Amy just received (the castle itself thankfully didn't come on this trip with them, Sarah managed to hold out against that, at least), until the little girl is surrounded by gifts and a matching towering pile of crumpled paper.
Sarah opens her own gifts that had been under the tree, finding a nice shirt, some books, a thick notepad, nice things her mother knows she'll use and wear and read. Emma receives her own gifts with a smile, and of course also gets the customary craft and drawing by Amy. Amy takes the offered cuddle from her grandmother, but as she does so, Sarah heads back to the suitcase, slipping open the inside pocket and sliding out an envelope she'd placed there earlier.
"I thought you might like these, too," she murmurs, handing them over to her mom, and Amy stays cuddled against Emma as the older woman opens the envelope with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, they're lovely," she says as she eyes the photos, then shows one to Amy. "When was this, Amy?"
"Halloween!" she says, excitedly. "Chuck took it!"
"Again with... Chuck." Emma says, knowingly, and Sarah resists the urge to blush, just looking back at her mother, not even blinking. She gnaws on her lip before caving, giving her mother something to know, at least.
"Okay, Chuck is our neighbor. He lives in the apartment opposite us."
Emma nods, looking at another photograph in her hand, and Amy squeals.
"That's Chuck!" she says, poking at the picture, and this time, Emma just looks up at Sarah, glint in her eye. Sarah just widens her own eyes, implies, later, and thankfully, her mother seems to relent, smiling down at Amy.
"Who else is in this, then?"
"Dr Ellie, and Dr Captain Awesome, Mr Morgan, and Mommy and me!"
Tickling Amy's side, Emma chuckles.
"Are they your friends, Amy?"
"Mmhm!" Amy says, and Sarah grins at her daughter's perception of it before explaining.
"Ellie is Chuck's sister, she invited us for Thanksgiving. The other photo is from then, too," On cue, Emma turns to the last photograph, one of just Sarah and Amy in front of the fireplace that day. She'd thought about giving her mother one of the ones with Chuck, too, that lovely candid, but decided against it, and with her mother's sly looks now, she's glad. Unfortunately, Sarah got her intuition from her mother and her father, not just Jack Burton alone. Though her mom didn't become a spy or a con artist, she's got her wits, still, good instincts, and she can clearly tell that there is something about Chuck she's missing out on. But Sarah won't breach that until Amy is in bed, at least. Which thankfully or not, should be soon.
Emma smiles.
"I'll get some frames and put these up, thank you, honey,"
She smiles, but against her mother, Amy yawns.
"I think it might be bedtime, bug," Amy nods, rubbing her eyes, a true sign of her exhaustion that she's relenting this easy. "Mom, can I draw a bath?"
"Sure. You never got anything to eat, I'll make you a sandwich while you get Amy to sleep, okay?"
She'd protest, but she knows there's no arguing with her mother on this. There'd be no arguing if Amy tried to get out of eating dinner, after all. Becoming a mom let Sarah understand so much about what her own mother would've gone through when she was young, and also realize how much losing touch with Sarah would've hurt. Losing touch with Amy, letting her go with somebody else, Sarah couldn't even imagine it, now.
And so she just nods, smiling at her mom.
"Say g'night to Grandma, Ames. We'll spend more time with her tomorrow."
Amy smiles sleepily up at Emma, cuddling in and planting a rather sloppy kiss on her cheek.
"Night Grandma. Love you."
She chuckles softly, strokes Amy's hair.
"I love you too, Amy," Kissing her crown, she sits up, hands Amy over to Sarah, and she scoops her up warmly, holding her tight.
These moments are still so strange, sometimes, to Sarah. That she's gone from being a spy, disconnected from her family and not having seen her mother for years, to being a mother herself, having left the spy life behind, staying with her Mom for the holidays, about to run a bath for her three-year-old and tuck her into bed.
Well, she thinks, as she climbs the stairs, looking out the window that overlooks the street outside, not quite having left the spy life. The road is clear, though, and she'd been doubly cautious on the flight out. No sign of Caria. But just the thought he could be near is enough, and Sarah hates it. Hates that she has to be this vigilant, again. Hates that her past is coming back to haunt her.
She cuddles Amy closer as she reaches the bathroom, setting the little girl on the ground as she leans in to turn the faucet. A realization dawns, though, when the tub is half full, and she curses internally.
"Ames, stay right here, and don't touch the water-"
"Pajamas?" Emma says, and Sarah turns to find her mother just approaching the bathroom, Amy's little pajamas in hand. The very thing Sarah had forgotten to bring up. She takes them with a sheepish grin.
"Thanks,"
"Always." her mom says. Sarah knows she means it.
Bath time is a quick, sleepy affair, and when Amy's dry and squeaky clean Sarah wrangles her into her warm fluffy pajamas, the pair she's only worn once in California so far. The one plus to Sarah's mother living in the Midwest is Amy's winter clothes are useful again. By the time Sarah carries Amy through to the room that's essentially designated theirs in this house, the little girl is basically asleep, and she tucks her under the covers, safe, secure.
"Mommy?"
She pulls up a chair, sits down.
"Yeah, baby?" She reaches out, tucks a curl behind Amy's ear. Amy latches onto her arm gently, pokes the charm bracelet around Sarah's wrist.
"'s pretty," she murmurs, blinks slow against her pillow.
"It is," Sarah smiles, reaching out and covering Amy's little hand with her own, squeezing briefly before letting go. "Chuck was very nice to give it to me."
"Chuck's nice. I like Chuck a lot." She sighs with a content smile, closing her eyes sleepily, and Sarah worries her lip while her daughter isn't looking.
"He is nice, bug."
"I miss him."
The words aren't even a surprise anymore, to Sarah. Her daughter just being that open and honest, about the man they both like so much, isn't a surprise.
An ache in her chest leads her to be the one sighing now.
"Well, maybe you can call him tomorrow?" she says, clutching at a vague idea, but rather hoping they can make it happen.
Amy nods, hair shuffling against the pillow.
"Yeah. 'Be nice." Her hand falls from where she'd still been holding the bracelet, eyes blinking slower.
"Sleep, baby, okay?" She strokes her cheek, watching as Amy fights more to stay awake. "That's all for tomorrow,"
"Okay."
"I love you, Amy,"
Amy smiles, eyes still closed, on the brink of blissful sleep.
"Love you too, Mommy."
She leans down, kisses Amy's cheek, and when she sits up, Amy's out. Smiling, and turning the nightlight on, she stands and heads downstairs to where her mother sits on the couch. On the armchair, sits a sandwich, and a glass of water is on the coffee table.
She smirks, sits down and scoops up the plate.
"Thanks. And thanks for the pajamas, I'd forgotten I hadn't taken the suitcases up yet,"
"It's fine," Emma says, grinning and waving a hand. "I once forgot to pack pajamas for you on vacation, so you're already doing better than I did sometimes,"
She chuckles at the anecdote, takes a bite of her sandwich, and they sit in silence for a few moments until Sarah sighs.
"You can ask, you know. Get it over with."
Emma smirks, nods.
"Chuck." she starts, and Sarah nods.
"Like I said, he's our neighbor. He lives across the hall." she explains, eating more in the hopes of ending the conversation. It doesn't work—her mother shifts, leans in.
"And you spent Thanksgiving with his family."
"Yes. Amy... took a shine to him, when we first moved in. She made him come over for cake," She chuckles at the memory, Amy accosting Chuck in the hall that day. It feels like a lifetime ago, somehow, yet also no time at all. Like all the time with him has sped past before she could really take it all in. "He comes over once a week for a movie night with Amy, and I've met up with his sister a few times. It's nice, having friends like that. People to spend time with."
Her mother nods sympathetically.
"I'm glad you found that. LA seems to have been good to you, both."
"Yeah," She smiles, thinking on it all. "Amy's a lot happier, I think. And meeting Chuck and his family has made her more confident, more talkative, with new people, which I'm hoping is a good sign."
"It will be, honey. But... that doesn't quite explain the bracelet." Sarah sighs, goes back to her sandwich. Even as she does so, the bracelet on her wrist glints traitorously in the light yet again. Emma smiles a little, awkwardly. "I know we're not good with this kind of conversation, but are you and him...?"
She shakes her head, emphatic.
"No." she says, shaking her head. "We're not."
Apparently not believing that, her mother raises an eyebrow.
"I don't wanna push you, you know that. But I can tell he makes Amy happy, just from how she talked about him. I- I think he makes you happy too, if that photo of you all is any sign. He's at least brought you happiness. So, why not…"
"We're just friends." she says, instantly, then pulls a face at that. It doesn't even sound right to her own ears. She knows refusing outright will just raise her mom's suspicions even more, too, and so she relents, just a little. "Sort of. I... I don't know, mom, it's complicated."
Emma just smiles lopsidedly, lifts a shoulder.
"You can talk to me. I'm your mom, it's what I'm here for, y'know."
Rubbing at her temple and trying to work out what to say, Sarah sighs. How can she even quantify the many many thoughts in her mind, she wonders.
"The bracelet was his mom's." she starts. "She- Neither of his parents are in his life, anymore, they both left. But his dad gave his mother this charm bracelet when Ellie, Chuck's sister was born."
"Wow," Emma raises an eyebrow, tone soft. "That's quite a gift for a friend."
"I know," she murmurs, picking at her sandwich to try and stay distracted. "Chuck... he wants to be more, I know that. But he's also accepting that I don't."
Looking up, she sees her mom frowning softly, eyes crinkled in sympathy.
"I could be wrong, but you don't look like someone who doesn't want to be with him, right now."
"It's complicated," she says, again, on instinct. "Everything that happened with Bryce, makes it complicated, and Chuck knows about that and I know he doesn't want to hurt us." There's also, majorly, all the stuff with Caria, but Sarah doesn't want to worry her mother with that. It's bad enough, just Sarah being worried and not wanting Chuck to get hurt, but her mom knowing would stress her out, and she can't do that to her.
"Do you think he would? Hurt you, I mean?"
"Never." That, she knows for certain now. "But- he also knew Bryce. It's in his past, but Bryce sort of ruined Chuck's life, and that makes things even more confusing."
Her mom nods, listening.
"I could imagine it would, yeah."
Sarah takes a deep breath, shaking her head.
"Plus... I'm scared."
She just about stops herself from frowning at that. Where had that come from?
She's scared of Chuck getting hurt, of course, scared that getting too close to him would make him a target for Caria and his revenge, but Sarah knows, that's not the fear she's just thought about. That fear is something else.
Emma shifts up the couch until she's at the other end, reaching out and gently holding Sarah's arm. It makes something shift within her, the denial, the excuses, fading away, emotion and reality taking over.
"Everyone's scared, Sa- Sarah. I don't think there's a person who goes through life not being at least a little scared, of something, of anything. Especially relationships."
She sighs, worries her lip, her feelings for Chuck overwhelming, suddenly.
"Mom, he's so great. He's kind, and funny, and warm, and- and he's amazing with Amy. Sometimes he'll be with us, and it feels so... perfect. The three of us. It's what I should've had, y'know, but that's it's Chuck is just even better." Emma smiles, but Sarah just breathes, feeling the lump cloying in her throat, choking, unabating. Sudden tears burn behind her eyes, and she swallows, trying to make it all go away. "And what if we did decide to... And then something goes wrong, and it doesn't work? I don't wanna lose him, I don't wanna lose what we have. And I just keep losing people, Mom," She cuts herself off, voice choked, but Emma has seen enough.
"Oh, Sam, honey-" she murmurs, leaning forward, arms outstretched.
And as she falls into her mother, ignoring the silent tears in her eyes and just holding Emma close, Sarah feels, for the first time in a long time, exactly like Sam. Exactly like that little girl, safe with her mom, being held tight and comforted. It's a memory so faded in her mind she can barely recall it, but right now, this, is clear as day. Her mother strokes her hair, holds her close, murmurs soothing words in her ear, and eventually Sam fades away, and Sarah slowly returns, all the better for it. For having shared what she didn't even know she was feeling.
Because while Caria may be the main immediate issue right now, what's underlying her turning Chuck away and settling as they are, is pure fear. Because she just keeps losing people, everyone she's connected with or trusted or loved. Her father, gone. Mark, killed. Graham, a mentor, betraying her. Bryce, a lie, just walking away.
And she knows, losing them would somehow feel like nothing compared to how losing Chuck would feel.
Her mother shifts back, pushes some hair out of Sarah's eyes.
"If he gave you that bracelet, I don't think you've got anything to worry about with losing him. I, I know I don't know him, I don't know his motivations, but he seems like the kind of person to not give away such a gift lightly, Sarah."
She sniffs, rubs a hand under her nose, feeling just a little bit silly.
"I know. He's not."
"I know that you're scared, and I understand why. But I think you have to ask yourself what you're missing out on, not being with him. What you have right now might be great, but what you could have, that could be even better. Don't just run away from him, honey."
Swallowing, nodding tightly, Sarah musters up a smile. There's so much more within her relationship with Chuck, so many more hurdles and problems, but this, right now, she can fix.
"I'll try."
"That's my girl,"
She chuckles, blushing a little, feeling like a kid again, needing comforted by her mom over a guy. But she never got to do this before, when she actually was a kid. It's nice to catch up to things, she thinks.
Emma sits back, smile a little watery, and Sarah laughs again.
"What am I like? Coming to you for the holidays and just unloading all this on you."
"Like I said, it's my job. Now, I want wine, do you want wine?"
Laughing, Sarah throws back her head, watches as her mother stands and heads into the kitchen determinedly. And amongst everything, the lingering fear and sadness, the strange feeling of connecting with her mother like that, repairing the rips that time caused between them, the constant worry over Caria in the back of her mind, the aching she feels for Chuck, amongst all that, is the thought that Sarah knows she'll follow her mother's advice. She won't run away anymore.
a/n 2: I love Sarah's mother, as a character and all she represents, and also from canon, too. I wish we'd seen more of her and learnt more about her. Hopefully, you guys don't think my interpretation of her is too far-out, I've really liked exploring their relationship, trying to repair it a little because of Amy, but not going too far into perfect mother-daughter scenarios. Emma here is also partly me after any emotional conversation—anyone for wine? Anyway! I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, Christmas can heal many a wound. The Thanksgiving awkwardness is over with, Sarah is finally being emotionally honest with herself, and thus we enter a slightly more comfortable Chuck, Sarah, and Amy time. I just had to write the bracelet in, though. What a moment. If you wanna share your thoughts, please leave a review on your way out, and I'll see you in a few days for chapter 10, 'The Park'!
