New Memories: A Bartowski Christmas

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, here's part 10.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show and I'm not making money.

"I suppose there's more where that came from," Chuck sighed, running his hands through his hair as he put his phone down.

"What?" Sarah Bartowski looked up from the How To Make Cranberry Bread page she was reading on her laptop screen, snuggled up on the couch in the living room with her legs tucked under her.

"I just got off the phone with Montez's personal assistant," her husband explained.

"And?"

"There's more where that came from, like I said."

She sat up a little straighter and draped her arm over the back of the couch so that she could angle her body more towards him. "Yes, Chuck. You did say that. But what does it mean?"

"You know what it means. It means he's already hired another company."

"Not Carmichael Industries…"

"Yes, Mrs. Bartowski. You're very astute."

His tone could absolutely be described as snappish and sarcastic. It was unlike him, and while it triggered a bit of a panic button in her deepest thoughts, she felt the ire rise in her breast. "Excuse me? I'm just trying to get the story straight. I had nothing to do with his choosing another company. I did my job at that party, thank you."

"And I didn't?"

"I didn't say that."

"It was implied."

Sarah glared over the back of the couch, then shut her laptop and set it aside, moving the blanket off of her legs and standing up with her hands on her hips. "Are you searching for a fight, Chuck?"

"No, I'm not. This was important, though. Urban Gamez is seriously lucrative and it would have been a really high paying job. That's extra money we aren't going to have to update C.I.'s infrastruc—"

"Okay, what's this really about?" Sarah interrupted suddenly, walking around the couch and moving closer to him.

"What do you mean? We needed Montez's business and we screwed up at that Christmas party. I don't know how but we did and I'm upset." He scratched the back of his head. "And disappointed. And angry."

"So what has that got to do with me?"

"You're supposed to be supportive and comforting. You're supposed to understand that I was really looking forward to this job because it's Urban Gamez and it's huge and I've wanted to work with them since I was in college. That dream just died with one God damn phone call and I'm disappointed." He slid his phone onto the table and ran his hands over his hair again.

"How am I supposed to know all of those things from you being sarcastic and snappish towards me?" But even as she asked that, she had a feeling she knew the answer. The old Sarah would have recognized Chuck's mood. She would have seen what was wrong immediately and she would have swept to his side and done just the right thing. Was that what Chuck was getting at, perhaps?

He would never say it. Chuck was too sweet and intuitive. Surely he knew that she would be hurt by it.

And she was. She was hurt.

Because she didn't know him like the other Sarah had before Quinn destroyed five years' worth of memories. In reality it had only been a few months since she woke up in a hotel room in downtown LA with no idea of how she got there. Their relationship had progressed in hyperdrive, and she learned so many new things about him every day. But she still didn't understand him like that Sarah had. She couldn't help him like old Sarah had. She hadn't gone through all of the ups and downs with him. That hurt terribly.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't mean to be that way with you. I'm just…sad. I'll get over it. I already am."

Chuck's eyes were wide, a bit tentative…And she realized belatedly that the hurt must be showing on her features. Maybe he knew exactly what was going through her mind, what was causing her chest to ache. Because while she'd had to start from scratch with him, he knew her better than anyone in the world. She had a lot of catching up to do. She didn't just have to catch up to Chuck, but to her old self, as well.

He stepped closer and cupped her elbows gently. "Hey, it's okay. There's more where that came from." His smile was so warm and comforting, but she still felt that pervading ache in her chest.

Because she needed it, even if the darkest part of her thought she didn't deserve it, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize this job was that important to you. I just thought it was like any other job."

"It should've been but I'm childish," he said. She still felt tension. Both in her and in him. "I let myself get way too excited about this."

"There's nothing wrong with being excited."

"There is when it makes you act like a damn bear when you don't get what you want. I overreacted just now, Sarah, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He squeezed her to him and kissed her hair. Should she explain that she wasn't upset with him? That she was just upset in general?

Because of him.

Because of her, and how she couldn't be the same Sarah he needed in situations like this. Not yet, anyways. Quinn had knocked their relationship back five whole years and while things progressed a lot faster than they had the first time, there was so much missing. Little things that she should know. How to comfort him when he was disappointed, how to read his cues the way he read hers, knowing what he needed in situations like this. She just wanted to be that Sarah again.

Chuck loved her. She knew this more than anything. He was in love with her. And she wasn't stupid enough to think it was because she was all that was left of his Sarah. Chuck loved her. Who she was now. As comforting as that was, it still hurt when she found herself not stacking up to the girl he fought for, proposed to, planned a wedding with, and eventually married. Until she got her memories back, which might or might not happen, Sarah would never be that girl. Someone else was proposed to. Not her.

She clung tighter and fought back the bubble of emotion in her chest. "I love you, Chuck. I'm sorry Urban Gamez didn't work out."

"Thanks," he drawled quietly, kissing her hair again. "And I love you, too. But you know that." His fingers moved up to her face and gently moved her back so that he could look down into her eyes. "Don't you?"

"I do." Her smile was reassuring and bright, unpracticed and adoring. He gave her a similar one back and she moved up to kiss him softly, her hands sliding up to cup his face. When they broke apart, Sarah patted his chest. "And anyways, we've got all the financial security we need, right?" She gave him what she hoped was a meaningful look. "We'll be okay."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Always." Then he brightened a little, his nose wrinkling in that way that made her shiver with happiness. "And tomorrow is Christmas, don't forget! No negativity permeating through our Christmas."

"That's right!" But they still hadn't discussed Christmas. And it was tomorrow. Chuck almost seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for her to bring it up, waiting for her to say something along the lines of, "So tomorrow, this is what I thought we would do". But she didn't say anything. Because she still couldn't remember.

Was there ice skating involved? A special turkey dinner? God, she hoped no turkey dinner. Where would she get a turkey at such short notice? She'd put it off for so long, she didn't even know what they would eat tomorrow. She was the worst wife on the planet. And certainly the most discombobulated.

Sarah pulled his face down to hers for a quick kiss, then moved away. "I have a last minute errand to run, Chuck." And a phone call to make.

"Uh. Okay. Want me to go with you?"

"No! No, that's alright. You just keep the house warm and cozy for me and when I get back we can cuddle and watch a movie or something."

He looked so incredibly pleased by that prospect that she couldn't help going back to him and kissing him again, this time a little more passionately. When they pulled back, she reached up to smooth a hand over his hair. "Don't worry about Montez, Chuck. Everything is fine."

He nodded. "Not gonna worry."

"Good." She patted his cheek, then hurried into their bedroom, tugging her boots on, shrugging a brown leather jacket over her shoulders, and grabbing her purse and car keys. As she swept back into the living room, she found Chuck already lounging on the couch with a comic book, having turned on the tree lights behind him.

She leaned over the back of the couch and kissed him. "Be a good boy, huh?"

"Mmm, you know it." He made a cute little roar noise and wrinkled his nose again, which she tapped with her finger before moving to the door.

"I love you."

"Love you too," he chirped over his shoulder as she shut the door.

She hurried out of the courtyard and walked to her car.

She'd reached the end of the line. Time had run out. She hadn't remembered their Christmas tradition. And while Sarah wasn't usually one to give up, this time she had no choice.

As she slid into the driver's seat of her Lotus, she pulled up Ellie's number on her cell, hit send, and then speaker, igniting the engine and waiting for the happy voice she'd come to love second only to Chuck's.

"Sarah!"

The young ex-CIA agent grinned in spite of everything, her heart filling at the excitement in the voice, the warmth and love in just two short syllables.

"Hi, Ellie."

}o{

Morgan Grimes had never let Chuck Bartowski down in the twenty five plus years they'd been best friends. At least, the few times he had let him down had been through no fault of his own. A nefarious and faulty Intersect had addled the bearded man's brain a little and had made him into a super-douche. This was true. But other than that, he'd always been Chuck's go to guy if things were bothering him.

That was why after Sarah left, Chuck wrote a note for her, put it on the kitchen table, and headed over to Morgan's. He texted him a heads up, just in case, because while Alex was going to be out of town with her mother for Christmas, Chuck had no way of knowing if she had already left or not, and he really didn't want to interrupt anything…weird. Again.

Realizing he was over-thinking things, as he always did, and knowing this meant he needed a chat with the Morgs more than ever, Chuck knocked on the door.

His bearded buddy opened it immediately and welcomed him inside. They did the whole small talk thing for a short while, sitting at the kitchen table with water bottles in hand. Until Morgan started giving him a funny look.

"What?"

"No, nothin' nothin'." He was silent, looking down at the table with an innocent tilt of his eyebrows. "It's just that you have that Uh-Oh-Sarah look on your face."

"My what?"

"Your Uh-Oh-Sarah look."

"What the heck is that?"

"You get like a little line here," he poked his own forehead between his eyebrows, "and you get kinda pouty and your shoulders hunch. And that's usually because you're thinking about Sarah, but like…because you're upset about something. Or dwelling. You're definitely a dweller. So tell ol' Morgan, buddy. What's the dwell? What're you dwelling over? Let the dwell out."

Chuck let out a soft huff of amusement and rested his elbow on the table, leaning his chin in his palm. "Everything's great with Sarah, Morgan. It's just that the closer it gets to Christmas, I keep feeling like she's…I don't know…something's just niggling at me. Like she has something to say but she's not saying it."

"That's typical Sarah."

"Yeah, I know it is. And it bothers me every damn time. But what's worse, and this is gonna sound crazy I know, but she has been avoiding the subject of what we're going to do for Christmas."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and pouted a little thoughtfully. "What you're doing for Christmas? Does it really matter? I mean, it does, yes. But it doesn't."

"Exactly. It doesn't matter." He shrugged. "But we'll be watching TV or something and a commercial comes on for something Christmasy and I casually go 'Hey, Sarah. So what're you thinking you might wanna do on Christmas?' And she either changes the subject completely or shrugs and does an 'I dunno' sound."

"That is a little odd."

"It is."

"So did you ask her what was wrong?"

"Um…" He rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

"You didn't ask what—Chuck, have we learned nothing at all about that girl? You have to push a little. You push and she opens up."

"Or I push and she closes up completely," Chuck added, tilting his head and looking through his eyelashes at his friend.

"That was way in the beginning, though! When she was a super hot spy woman you were nuts about and she had all those walls and crap and you weren't supposed to be together and yadda yadda. This is different. You're married. You aren't spies—"

"We're still sort of spies."

"That's not the point. Wait…does that mean I'm a sort of spy too?" His eyes lit up a bit, then he shook his head. "That's not important. We can discuss that later. You two are married, 'til death do you part. You gotta grab that girl, corner her, and say 'Sarah, what is it with you and Christmas?' Or you're never gonna know. And you two are gonna do the whole awkward tension thing you used to do and ignore the problem. Tomorrow is Christmas, buddy! You gotta clear this up tonight!"

"I know," Chuck breathed. "I know I do." Then he was quiet, struggling to find the right words, biting his cheek.

"Ooooh. Oh, wow."

Chuck looked up at his friend. "What?"

"I see what this is."

"You do? D'you mind telling me?" He scooted forward a bit in his chair and pinned Morgan with an attentive stare.

"You're tip toeing. Sarah lost five years of her memories. A part of you thinks maybe she isn't the same Sarah she was before that happened, huh?" Morgan leaned in a little. "The Sarah you first met? That intimidating CIA agent with the walls and crap? She'd pull away if you were candid with her about this. But not the Sarah you married, the Sarah she grew to be over the last few years."

"How do you do this?"

"I'm amazing, buddy. That's all there is to it. Why do you think she's any different than she was before?"

"When she woke up after Quinn stole her memories, she was exactly where she had been before Graham sent her here. Mentally, emotionally. Over the years, though, she grew, she matured. Just like I did, you know? Just like we all did." He breathed out, tugging a little at his hair. "It's just logical to assume that she reverted back to that time and she's…different. Ya know?"

"Yeah, that's logical. Sure. Totally logical." Morgan nodded, a bit of a scholarly look to his face as he rubbed his beard. "But Chuck, when have things with Sarah Bartowski née Walker ever been logical?"

Chuck raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and tilted his head to the side. Morgan made an awfully good point.

"Don't take this the wrong way, buddy, but that girl is unlike any other girl in the whole world."

"She is." He smiled. "Wait, how would I take that the wrong way?"

"I just don't want you to think I'm into your wife. I mean, me and Alex, we're good, you know? And I'm not…Right, I'm an idiot. Okay. We're good. Just…think about the person you're married to, man."

"She's special."

"She really is," Morgan said. "Maybe she lost five years of memories, but she didn't lose anything else. All of the Sarah things. You know, the things that make her Sarah."

Chuck sat up a bit straighter. "She is the same," he said softly. "Exactly the same. There are just things she doesn't remember. Important things."

"And that sucks. A lot. But come on, man. Stop tip toeing. Grab your life by the horns. Lay it all on the table. That girl loves you. She's not going anywhere. Er…again. She loves you. She's wearing her wedding ring, she's living with you, she's…I don't know, other things."

"She brought up kids the other day," Chuck said a little shyly.

"What?! Chuck!" Morgan reached over the table and nudged him with his fist. "Buddy, that's awesome! That's so great! See? She wants your babies, man!"

Chuck winced.

"Right, won't phrase it like that again. Sorry."

"Please."

"Got it."

Chuck nodded. "Well, how about you, Morgan? Getting ready for Christmas and New Year's in Hawaii with Big Mike and Bolonia?"

"Stop it. I get hives just thinking about it."

As Chuck laughed, he felt determination mounting inside of him. He was going to lay it all on the table in front of Sarah. He was going to make this the best Christmas ever. But first he had a phone call to make, and a last minute favor to ask.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and for reading. More tomorrow, folks.

-SC