A/N: I actually thought this fic was complete, so I'm sorry. I'm REALLY sorry. I saw the video of the Malice in the Palace from 15 years ago, and thought for a second about changing the story. I didn't but it might have been fun. The Stakes Get Higher.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

September 15th, Atlanta

Chuck was walking out the door of the arena. He couldn't believe it; after everything the team had been through, they were on their way to the semi-finals against the Las Vegas Aces. They had come into Atlanta, got up big in the first quarter, and ran away with it at the end, winning 102-68. Sarah hadn't played the final quarter, and Chuck was beginning to worry about her. She hadn't played in years, and all this work her knee was going through… fatigue setting in was a real worry. There was only one cure for that, but there was no way she was sitting out. He could hear her yelling at him now, about how she sat for so much of the second half of the season. How he could take his load management, and shove it straight up his ass.

He loved her, but there were times she was absolutely impossible. He thought about Kevin Durant, and how he had come back too quickly and ended up hurting himself worse than ever during the NBA finals. But, he also knew Sarah, and Sarah wasn't going to quit. If there was a 1% chance she could win the title, then she was going for it, damn the consequences. He was deep in thought, heading to the car to take him to the airport, when he heard it.

"Bartowski."

Chuck stopped, surprised at who called out to him. He turned around, pointed to himself, and quickly headed to the big man, as a scowl was sent in his direction.

"Hey, Casey," Chuck began. "I was surprised, because we never talk much."

"Shut it, numbnuts," Casey replied.

"And maybe that's why," Chuck retorted.

"If you were a scumbag bookie, in love with a basketball star, and you knew the team you were scared would beat your girl was coming to town, what would you do?"

Chuck thought for a second. "Well, since I'm not, I'll have to think up something cliché, like… do you watch figure skating?" The growl gave him the answer. "Listen, hear me out, but there was basically a huge beef between two skaters-"

"I think I know where you're going, crowbar-to-the-knee Tonya Harding style?" Casey asked.

"Something like that," Chuck admitted.

Casey nodded. "Thanks." With that he turned and walked off.

"Good chat," Chuck said to no one. "I think he likes me."

}o{

"I think she needs an MRI done of the knee," Chuck said to Bryce, softly. Sarah was asleep beside him and Chuck, again, had used a private jet to get them from Atlanta to Cleveland. The rest of the team was going on to Las Vegas, but Chuck telling Beckman and Casey a couple of nights in her bed would do her some good had quickly sealed their fate.

"She's gonna yell," Bryce replied as he looked over Chuck at Sarah.

"I'm gonna beat both your asses if you don't shut up," she grumbled.

"What do you see in her?" Bryce asked.

"There's times I question it, myself," Chuck admitted.

}o{

"MRI's clean," Bryce told Chuck the next afternoon. Chuck looked up, having given Sarah a deep tissue massage and had worked the knee as gently as possible. "Also, your new brace has come in," he said, tossing it to him. "And, Casey has, and I quote, 'A guy who owes him,'" Bryce said, using finger quotes, "watching Shaw."

"Sounds good," Chuck replied. "What time are we leaving in the morning?"

"Wheels up at nine AM," Bryce replied. "I gotta make some calls." Chuck nodded and watched him leave, feeling two eyes burrowing into him.

"What did I do?" Chuck asked.

"Nothing," Sarah replied. "You're gonna have to come to terms with this, you know." Chuck turned to her. She was dressed only in her towel. "I'm going to do this, Chuck."

"Oh, I know," Chuck replied. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you can, and if you can't, then I'm going to do all I can to fix you."

She walked toward him. "Pretty sure you've already fixed me."

"I was talking about your knee," Chuck began, and then her towel fell off somehow.

"I wasn't."

}o{

September 17th

The team walked back into the locker room, dejected. Casey pulled Chuck off to the side before he could speak to Sarah. "My guys got him. Turns out he had a bat, and had some pretty bad intentions."

"Well that solves one problem," Chuck replied. Casey gave him a look. "Casey, she hasn't played for year, and now all of this. Not only do they need to win this series, but win it in as few games as possible."

"Look at it this way," Casey began. "If we don't win tomorrow, it may not matter."

"If they play like that, they aren't going to win any more games," Chuck replied shrugging.

"What the hell do you know, Curls?" Bentley asked, overhearing them.

Chuck turned around and saw the whole locker room starting at him, including Sarah. "Nothing," he began.

"No, you got something to say, say it," Bentley said, walking towards him. "Say to all our faces. Say exactly what you think."

"You sure?" he asked. Bentley nodded, as did many of the other players. "Fine," he said with a shrug. "You guys got outplayed, and outcoached."

"Bartowski," Casey warned.

"No, they wanted it, here it is. You ladies played scared. You let them dictate offense, you took no chances on defense, and sat back, instead of attacking. What is it you always say, that Bomani is saying on TV? 'Scared money don't make money'? You all played like you had nothing to lose the past few nights, and I think that crowd got into your head, you realized exactly where you were, and in this big moment…"

"We flinched," Sarah finished for him. Jane looked over at her. "How many times did we push tempo tonight?"

"Not once," Jane replied.

"How many times did we try a secondary break off of a rebound?" Sarah asked.

"Not once," Robin muttered.

"How many steals did you or I go for, Jane?" Sarah asked, looking Jane directly in the eye. "I didn't once. We can't win scoring in the 70s. We're not built for that."

Jane turned to Chuck. "Glad to see you have a basketball brain, under that poking and prodding you do to Walker." Chuck went red. "Anyone think he's wrong?" Jane asked, turning and looking at everyone.

"He's not," Beckman said, joining the group. "We got beat in every phase of the game, starting with me and Casey."

"Speak for yourself," Casey muttered. Beckman glared at him. "Perhaps I could have done more," he acquiesced.

"Forget tonight happened," Chuck said, drawing everyone's gaze. "This isn't you. This isn't the Rockers I watched out there. It was one game. You've got tomorrow off. Put it out of your mind, and come back out Thursday and play like you can play." He heard Beckman clear her throat. "Orrrrrr, ignore what I just said, and listen to your coach. Sorry, Coach."

"It's fine, Chuck," Beckman said, grinning. Turning to the team, she said, "You heard him." Chuck smiled at her. She turned back to him. "Never let that happen again." The smile fell from his face.

}o{

September 24th

"It would be easier to massage you if you weren't so blasted tense all the time," Chuck said, working on her leg.

"I'm sorry that I'm making you have to run your hands over my bare body for longer than you wanted," Sarah replied.

"Now wait-"

She sat up, wrapping the towel around her, a smirk on her face. "Sorry I'm such a problem and hardship."

"I didn't say that," responded quickly. "You need to let me finish working on you. You have a game tonight. A game that could end this series."

"I thought you wanted me to not be tense?"

"Okay, what is wrong?" Chuck asked, leaning against the wall to hear her out.

"I have two issues," Sarah began. "The first, the Mystics swept, so they are already resting."

"They are," Chuck conceded. "And to be frank, you need all the rest you can get."

"Well, if you'd quit keeping me up all night…" Chuck just stared at her. "Fiiiiiine, most of it is my fault." Chuck grinned at her. "But that brings me to my second problem, Mr. Bartowski." She clasped her hands together and took a deep sigh. "This professional relationship of ours is about to come to a finish, so… what then?"

"What then, what?" Chuck asked, confused.

"Us, dodo," she said with a flat look.

"What about us?" Chuck asked. "What are you asking me? Are we about to break up? I don't want to break up, Sarah."

"First, calm," she said, and he nodded. "Second, did you forget our talk? You're kinda it, nerd."

"Okay, so what are you asking me?"

"What are you going to do?"

"About what?" Chuck asked. He saw the frustration in her face. "I don't understand, I'm sorry. I'm gonna be where ever you are… if that's okay… if you'll have me." His voice had gotten softer and softer as he spoke.

"And your company?" Sarah continued. "What about it?"

"What about it?" Chuck asked with a shrug. "It operates fine with my current setup. Sarah, the only way I'm not with you, is if you go, and tell me not to follow."

"You would anyway, you stalker." A smile played on her lips.

"Yeeeaaaaaaaah, I kinda deserved that." She grinned at him. "So, can I?"

"Can you what? Live with me, travel where ever I need to go?" He nodded. "If that's what you want."

"Sarah, all I've ever wanted was you."

She grinned at him. "You sure, Chuck? You sure it wasn't… what you thought you saw?"

"Listen, let me be real blunt. You amazed me on TV, and there's an old saying about never meeting your heroes." Chuck paused, and searched her face; he saw some nerves there. "But they need to amend that saying. It should be 'Never meet your heroes, unless your hero is Sarah Walker.'

"I'm telling you, you are so much more than I ever dreamed you could be. I thought you were a fighter, and someone who worked hard, regardless of how things looked. What I found was this kind, loving, funny, intelligent, and passionate woman that I have fallen desperately, head over heels in love with. So yes, I want to be with you, wherever that is, but there's one thing I want more than that."

"What's that, Chuck," she asked a little breathlessly.

"I want to finish working on your knee for tonight's game." Sarah gave him a sad smile, nodded and laid down on the table. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Sarah replied. You didn't say something right she thought. "We just need to win this game and then I get to go kick Jill's ass."

"That's the spirit," Chuck said, as he began to work her knee again.

}o{

"Hey, Walker!" Sarah lifted her head. The rest of the team was on the floor celebrating. They had done it. They had beaten the Aces, and were on their way to the WNBA finals. Casey stood next to her. "You know we won, right?"

"Yeah, we won the game," Sarah agreed.

"Damn it, Walker," Casey growled. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't get something I wanted," Sarah said with a shrug.

"Then go get it," Casey said.

"You don't understand," Sarah began.

"Nope, sure don't, and I don't care," Casey retorted. "What I know is that anything… and Walker, I mean anything, you want… you can get."

"John," Sarah began.

"Get out of here," Casey said. Sarah nodded, stood, spun, and hugged the man. "Damn ladyfeelings," he said, as he returned the hug. He watched her go and chuckled. WNBA Finals, here we come.

A/N: Next time, what you've been waiting for, the WNBA Finals.

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