A/N: Halfachance sent me a screenshot from twitter asking who was down to go to couples counseling with them and see how long it would take the therapist to figure it out. Below that, someone had replied, friends to lovers in 10k words. Well…it's not quite 10k but…it's a little crazy, but that's my life right now. I hope you enjoy it. It's complete and I'll be posting all three chapters over the next few days. I give you couples counseling.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

Chuck looked back up at the receptionist, who was chewing gum, pointedly ignoring him. He was told to be here at 3:00 for his 4:00 o'clock appointment, so naturally he had gotten there at 2:30. He was supposed to fill out paperwork, but she told him that it was already taken care of. He hadn't even been asked to sign in or give his name when he got there. He wasn't sure what the protocol was at a therapist's office, so he didn't know if he should say anything or not.

The door opened, and Chuck wiped his hands on his pants. They had been sweating a bit more than usual, which was nothing new. His hands would always sweat when he was nervous. A shorter woman poked her head out the door. "Daphne?"

"Your two solo sessions canceled," the receptionist replied. The shorter woman nodded and went back into the office. Chuck frowned at hearing what she'd said, but again, he knew nothing about how therapy worked. The door to the clinic opened and he saw a blonde woman walk in. She did not look happy to be there, and he felt that in his soul; he wasn't thrilled with where he was, but Morgan and Ellie had been insistent.

"You gotta dig deep inside to get everything out," Ellie had insisted. "It might hurt at first, but until you get it all out, you can't heal."

"Hi," Chuck said. The woman gave him a closed lip smile and nodded. She sat on the other end of the couch. Chuck didn't blame her; for all she knew, he collected his fingernail clippings in a jar by his bed. The receptionist pushed a button, and a second later the door to the therapist's room opened.

"Won't you come in," she said. Chuck and Sarah looked at each other. "The both of you," the woman said, rolling her eyes and walking back into her office, leaving her door open.

"Together?" Chuck asked the receptionist.

"Trust me, it will help speed up the process," the receptionist told him.

"Chuck Bartowski," Chuck said, holding his hand out to his soon-to-be counseling partner. "I figured you should know my name given…"

"Sarah Walker," she replied, shaking his hand, and then glancing at it.

"Sorry, I sweat when I get nervous," Chuck replied. They both stood, and Chuck extended his hand toward the therapist's office. "After you." The two walked in to find the woman sitting in her chair, a couch across from her. Sarah sat on the far end, and Chuck on the near one. The therapist appraised the two, and began to take notes.

"Did we do something wrong?" The therapist looked up at Chuck and raised an eyebrow. "Should I have sat somewhere else?" He turned to Sarah. "I'm sorry, I feel like I screwed this up."

"It's okay," Sarah assured him. When Chuck turned back to the therapist, Sarah blew out a breath. That made the therapist write something else down. When she finished, she laid down her pad and pen, and cleared her throat.

"My name is Dr. Diane Beckman," she began.

"Can I call you Doc?" Chuck blurted out. "I've always wanted to do that." Beckman glared at him. "So, that's a no on the Doc thing?"

Beckman ignored him. "I do things a little unconventionally. My belief is many problems can be sorted out by doing counseling together." Chuck nodded, still not understanding. Sarah sat there, an unreadable mask over her face. "First, I would like your names, but first names only. I have my reasons."

"I'm Chuck."

"I'm Sarah."

"Very good," Beckman told them. She smiled at them and retrieved her pen and pad. "Okay, we're going to try something a little different. Pretend you don't know each other."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Chuck assured her.

"Not a problem at all," Sarah agreed.

"Good," Beckman said. "So, where do we want to start? Would you like to tell me some things about yourself, or should I begin by asking questions?"

"I can start," Chuck blurted out. "My parents both left me when I was a kid."

"What?" Sarah said, turning to Chuck.

"You didn't know that?" Beckman asked.

"We don't know each other, remember?"

Beckman wore a look not unlike a proud parent, as she picked up her notebook and made a few notes. "Very good," she murmured. "Chuck, please continue."

"Anyway, my sister basically raised me. I've had issues my whole life, mostly anxiety, and hiding. I went to Stanford, and everything seemed to be going right, when I found my girlfriend and my best friend, uh…"

"Copulating," Beckman offered.

"Yes," Chuck replied.

"Jesus," Sarah murmured.

Chuck looked over at her and nodded. "Yeah, it was rough."

"How do you not have trust issues?" Sarah asked.

"Well, I kinda do, I think," Chuck began.

"No, you don't," Sarah said shaking her head. "I mean, not like I do. I couldn't share that, not in this setting."

"But if you don't, how can you do the work to get better? To make the changes you want?" Chuck asked. "And I'm not asking that to be a jerk or being judgmental; I'm genuinely curious."

Sarah was quiet for a second. "I don't know," she murmured. "I guess... I guess you're right."

"Do you trust Chuck, Sarah?" Beckman asked. Chuck's eyes widened. "It's a fair question."

"Uh, is it?" Chuck began.

"I do," Sarah blurted out. Chuck looked at her, a little stunned. She looked at him, nodding. "I do. Chuck has nothing to do with my trust issues."

"Very good," Beckman said. "Now, what is intimacy like for you two?" Chuck's eyes went wide, while Sarah made a choking sound. "Never mind, we'll circle back." Beckman began to write furiously. "Bigger issues than I thought," she muttered.

"What was that?" Chuck asked.

"Nothing," Beckman replied. "Now, Chuck… this is going to be hard, but you need to be honest, okay?" Chuck nodded. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Besides you?" Chuck replied, confused. Sarah snorted. Chuck looked at her, and she shook her head. Chuck turned back to Beckman who was writing again, shaking her head, giving a withering glance to Chuck periodically. "What did I do?"

"You're not taking this seriously," Sarah said with a straight face.

"She is correct, Chuck," Beckman said. "Romantically, are you seeing anyone, and I mean besides Sarah."

"I am not," Chuck replied, looking at Sarah, who shrugged.

"And Sarah, are you seeing anyone, and I am not talking about Chuck."

"I am not," Sarah replied.

"I bet it's not from a lack of being asked out," Chuck blurted out before he could stop himself.

"And just what do you mean by that, Chuck?" Beckman asked. Sarah turned towards Chuck to watch him. "This is very important."

"Well," Chuck began, and gave Sarah a look.

"Please, answer her," Sarah said, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Fine," Chuck said, blowing out a breath. "There are a lot of reasons. First thing a lot of guys are going to notice is her physical beauty."

"Interesting," Beckman said. "A lot of guys… does that include you?"

"I think blind men would see Sarah, doctor," Chuck told Beckman. Sarah ducked her head shyly. "But what I've noticed for the short time I've been around her-"

"Good," Beckman murmured, nodding.

"…Is that she cares," Chuck continued. Sarah raised her head and studied Chuck, intrigued by his words. "She found out about my parents. And while she could have said something polite, or just ignored it, she listened. And she cared, and was curious about me. Not-not in a way to learn something to use against me, but just... natural curiosity. A lot of people aren't curious about me. And she trusts me. She's here for trust issues, unless I misunderstood," he said to her. She nodded her head, indicating that he was correct. He gave her a smile, and turned back to Beckman. "And she trusts me. She also has eyes that seem to see deep into me, and a humor about her that some would miss if they only cared about her in a physical manner."

"Very good, Chuck," Beckman said. She turned to Sarah. "Is there anything you'd like to say to him? Do you see yourself as he does?"

"I've never had anyone think I was funny," Sarah said softly. "I've never had anyone really understand how hard it is for me to trust someone. And for him to get it, you know, with us just meeting and everything." Beckman just smiled. "It's a lot."

"What do you mean by that?" Chuck asked. He glanced at Beckman. "Sorry, your session."

"No, actually it is your session, the both of you," Beckman explained. "Sarah?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Most people don't notice me, the person inside. Most people find me to be... an ice queen. That's what I've been called." She had her hands in her lap, and she was staring at them. She continued, in a small voice. "Dad... Dad was a con man and…" She was silent for a second, took a breath, and continued. "And he included me in cons as I was growing up."

Chuck put his hand on her knee, for support, but then his eyes widened as he realized what he had done. He began to move his hand when hers landed on top of his. He looked up into her eyes, and he could see her pleading not to move it. He squeezed her knee, and she nodded.

She turned back to Beckman. "Dad believed love was for suckers. He and mom... they were just no good together."

"Has this affected your outlook on relationships today?" Beckman asked.

"How could it not?" Chuck blurted out. Sarah looked at him. "Sorry."

"No, no, please go on, Chuck," Sarah said.

"Yes, please," Beckman said, intrigued.

"I mean, we all know that nature vs. nurture thing, right?" Chuck began. He looked from one to the other. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, how do you trust someone if they don't know you, and how can you tell someone who you are, if you don't trust them? Sarah is caught in a conundrum. She may not believe everything her dad says, but it's like if you hear over and over how you're… whatever; too tall, let's say, then there are some times when something happens, the thought enters your mind that it happened because you were too tall."

"Have you been told you're too tall before, Chuck?" Beckman asked.

"What? No, absolutely not," Chuck said. Beckman and Sarah just kept looking at him. "Fine… Yes, I have been, and yes, that's idiotic, but sometimes, in those dark moments, even when you really don't believe the things that have been said to you, or the things you have heard…" he trailed off.

"Those voices come back, and they bring friends," Sarah said softly.

"You know, there are times couples come in here, and I am sure they are going to divorce, but you two, there's so much hope here. I hope you'll keep fighting for this... for each other," Beckman said.

"I'm sorry, what?" Chuck asked.

"Chuck," Sarah said, wrapping her arms around his near arm. "I know we're supposed to pretend we don't know each other, but I think now, we have to drop the act." He turned to her, confused, and that's when he saw the pleading in her eyes.

"Yeah, right, sorry, just trying to get into the moment, you know?" Beckman beamed at him. "We're... we're going to do the work. Right, Sarah?"

"Absolutely," Sarah agreed. "I want to fix this." And in that moment, Chuck knew. She wanted to get better, and she thought she could, if he were here with her. Chuck was overwhelmed by the trust this complete stranger, with obvious trust issues, had for him. "You're the best," she said softly.

"I think we need to meet twice a week, if not three," Beckman said looking from one to the other.

"What do you think?" Chuck asked Sarah. She looked like she had just melted onto the couch in a puddle.

"Can you do three?" Chuck nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Just so you know, if you two feel the need to hug or kiss in big moments, I understand," Beckman told them.

"I'm really not big on PDA," Chuck blurted out. Sarah fought to keep a straight face. "Thank you," Chuck said, offering his hand to Beckman. She shook it, and then did the same with Sarah.

"Just set up your next appointment with my receptionist," Beckman said, walking them to the door. After they stepped through, Beckman closed the door behind them.

"So, she wants to see you two in two days," Daphne said, chewing her gum. "I guess it worked, huh?" She had a grin on her face.

"What in the hell did you do?" Chuck asked. "Did you seriously cancel our individual appointments?"

"She pissed me off and I thought I would get even with her," Daphne said with a grin. "Mr. and Mrs. Charles, we'll see you Wednesday at 3:00. You don't have to be here at 1:30, Mr. Charles."

"What does that mean?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing," Chuck replied, walking out of the therapist's office.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Sarah said, as they got outside. Chuck spun towards her, not sure what she was talking about. "I didn't even think that-"

"Wait, it's fine," Chuck told her. "It really is. I mean, therapy with a buddy, right?" Sarah snorted. "And I was right, you do have a sense of humor."

"We should tell her the truth," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"And if we do, you won't go back, and we both know that," Chuck replied. Sarah crossed her arms in front of her and looked away. Chuck stepped up, and gently placed both of his hands under her elbows. She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "I'm honored you trust me," he said softly. "I'm honored you want me there. So, Mrs. Charles, I'll see you in two days, right here, okay?" She nodded, a smile on her face.

"Thank you, Chuck," she said. She hugged him, and kissed him on the side of the cheek. She turned and headed down the sidewalk the other direction, waving at him. Chuck watched her go, grinning.

"I'm gonna need therapy from this therapy," he muttered to himself as he started home.

A/N: We may all need therapy...