xXXXx
~Sarah~
Sarah woke up. Her feet had reconnoitered the other side of the bed seeking a source of heat without success. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Chuck's side. Empty. She needed his feet for their warmth, but also she was yearning for him, even if it was just playing footsie under the sheets. On their second night together, which followed the night of exquisite passion when they had returned from the beach, Chuck asked her if they could ease back into the physical intimacy. She had thought it was a little late for that, but she agreed. It had been quaint and sweet when he asked. Now it was edging towards agonizing.
Charles Irving Bartowski was a tall drink of water that she had only been able to sip for the last few weeks. She thirsted for a long swig. She could have pressed the matter at any point and he might have relented like that first night, but she had decided to go along with him on this. And the intimacy had been ramping up, but oh so slowly.
So where is he? She wondered if he could still be watching a movie with Morgan. She slipped out of bed, slipped into her robe and left the bedroom for Chuck's last known location: the den. Barefoot, she moved through the house hardly raising a sound. There was the telltale glow and flicker of a television screen escaping from the den's entryway as she approached. She reached the opening and peered in. No Morgan, only Chuck on the sofa absorbed by what he was watching (which her angle did not let her easily see). He had not noticed her.
"Chuck, why don't you come to bed." Sarah had let the words waft out in a soothing and mildly suggestive tone. Startled nonetheless, Chuck's enthralled gaze at the screen snapped. He raised a remote controller, stopping what he was watching.
"Sorry. I meant to be there a little while ago, but I started watching this." He gestured towards the television with the hand holding the remote. His expression became sheepish. "Actually, I'm on my third time through." Sarah was intrigued; Chuck seemed to pick up on her quizzical look. "It's not a movie. Well, it's a movie, but it's an amateur movie, a montage that Jeff put together. Of us. For our rehearsal dinner. Morgan found it and gave it to me as he was leaving tonight, and then I was just going to take a quick peek before coming to bed." Chuck shrugged a silent apology.
"'Jeff' as in Buy More Jeff? Should I be worried? From the few stories you've told me about him and the conflicted, uneasy feelings I had–"
"No. Not at all. It's so wonderful. Crazy sounding, I know, but true. Morgan was pretty excited about it. After his magic kiss theory, I think he's trying to find his next great idea for your memories. I love the little guy, but..." Chuck went quiet and cast his gaze down.
"'But'?"
"I was naïvely optimistic about getting your memories back. Ellie warned me I couldn't force you to remember. But ever since we moved in I've been putting a lot of pressure on you. I'm sorry I did that to you."
"Chuck, you haven't been pressuring me. I love hearing you talk about us. I love looking at the photos of us. The goofy Halloween parties. Our wedding day. All of it." Chuck gave Sarah an appreciative, lopsided smile as she continued, "And this house, it's beautiful. My childhood dream house. So please don't apologize. And since I'm awake –your fault by the way– and it's all set up, may we watch it now?" Chuck's smile broadened and he slid himself from the center of the sofa, inviting her over. Sarah joined him, nestled in close, and as she did the two leaned back with Chuck's arm around Sarah's shoulder and her head on his chest. With a couple button presses, Chuck had the video restarted from the beginning.
It was wonderful, more so than Sarah would have guessed possible. There were several candid moments clearly shot without her and Chuck aware that might have seemed creepy in a different context, but all together it was beautiful and moving.
Sarah picked up on movement from Chuck and looked up to see him shaking his head slightly. "What is it?"
"Oh, still just thinking about how foolish I've been, pinning so much of my hope for you getting your memories back on this house. When I got the message from the realtor that the house was still available I was feeling good about our chances. And when we closed on the purchase I really thought we'd been handed a gift…"
(...thrum...) Sarah's brow furrowed momentarily.
"...and we'd make this place your home…"
(...thrummm...) She rubbed her forehead.
"...and of course your memories would come back. As you said, it's your childhood dream house. I know we haven't been here long and maybe I should give it more time, but–"
"Chuck," Sarah had lifted her head and cut him off with a peck on his lips, "It's ok, let's just watch the video. Could you start it again?"
She gave her forehead another quick rub before laying it back down on his chest. What was that? As Chuck had been speaking Sarah thought something had… what? Stirred? She was not sure. Was it momentary lightheadedness?
Sarah slid her hands around to Chuck's back and squeezed against him as tight as she thought she could without making him uncomfortable. Even though she did not remember the moments captured in the movie she could see the love and happiness, and at that instant she desperately wanted him to know and feel that they were inseparable. In doing so, she had pressed the side of her head firmly against Chuck's chest. She could hear his heartbeat and could feel her own in the pulse of her pressed ear.
The video's images, the past several days spent with Chuck, his and her heartbeats all mingled in her mind. As the video showed flashes from their life together, Sarah was certain the heartbeats were moving towards each other, overlapping and meshing. One beat seemed to answer the other and then they synchronized, perfectly, becoming inextricable and indistinguishable from each other.
She thought again, What was that? Was it something Chuck said? She mentally replayed the prior moment with him, hearing his words again, however it was not only Chuck's voice that she heard in her head. Her own voice was speaking to her, too. She also had said those words –but when?– and now the words were repeating and their cadence joined that of the one, shared heartbeat.
(buh-dum) Gift.
(buh-dum) Home.
(buh-dum) Gift.
(buh-dum) Home.
(buh-dum) A gift.
(buh-dum) My home.
Chuck is a gift.
Chuck is my home.
"Chuck. A gift. My home." Sarah spoke the words softly, not conscious she was saying them out loud. Then she gasped as the floodgates opened. "Sweetie! Come with me!"
~Chuck~
Chuck though he had heard Sarah quietly say his name. He certainly heard her call him "Sweetie" given that she had nearly shouted it. Sweetie? When had I last heard her call me that? She was on her feet and pulling his hand to get him to follow. He was up and his feet were keeping pace with Sarah's rapid strides, but her sudden animated excitement had him nonplussed. His head was still trying to catch up when Sarah came to a stop. She was standing before the carving of their names. Chuck found himself behind her, against her back. She spoke, vibrating with every word.
"We were standing together, pretty much like this. I'd just told you I had changed, that I didn't want to go back to being a spy. I had a knife from our picnic on the floor. You asked me what I was doing and I told you I was carving our names here because we would someday own this house, that one day it would be ours. I finished my name and handed you the knife. And I said to you?"
Sarah posed the question, but her voice was triumphant, asking with a tone that left no doubt whether she knew the answer. Chuck knew, too. He wrapped his arms around Sarah and kissed the top of her head, then lobbed her question back to her. "And you said?"
"I said when this house is ours one day that I would like to always remember the moment we had our first night here."
Chuck's eyes closed and he slowly took in and let out a deep breath. "You're home."
~Sarah~
"Your home." Sarah heard.
Sarah spun in Chuck's arms to face him. Her husband, her gift, her home. Yes, my home. The sensation that had come over her moments ago was not terrifying like what she had first experienced on the beach with the return of her feelings, but every bit as monumental. The deep, unequivocal emotions that had been with her since that day now found tens, hundreds, thousands of memories –the tiniest of moments and the grandest of events– to connect to and draw sense from. Look at me, Chuck. I'm here. Sarah had a vague awareness she was beaming at him.
~Chuck~
Chuck's eyes opened and they locked with Sarah's. She was smiling at him. Oh. My. God. Sarah had stolen his heart a thousand times over with her smile, with her wondrous, mesmerizing smile. But this smile was… Chuck's mind was spinning and into it popped a line from a beloved movie in which the storyteller spoke of the five most pure kisses, since the invention of the kiss, all being left behind by the one then unfolding on the screen. But Chuck's storyteller in this moment was not speaking of kisses, he instead spoke of smiles. And the wise voice was announcing that this smile from the woman that Chuck loved and who loved him back was the most beautiful, most perfect smile in the history of smiles. A more perfect smile than this? Inconceivable.
Sarah cupped the back of Chuck's neck with her hands. His eyes blinked rapidly as they filled with and then spilled tears. Rising up on her toes, she drew his cheek to hers; his joyful tears were joined by her own. Sarah's lips were close to his ear and she whispered, "You keep finding me, Chuck." Their cheeks parted as Sarah settled back on her feet. She let her hands slide forward to his face and gently wiped away their commingled tears with her thumbs. Her blue eyes were glistening and her excitement was evident. "Sweetie, where's that binder?"
Chuck answered, "Back in the den." Sarah strode back to the den with him once again at her heels. She took a quick glance around the room, spied the binder, grabbed it and sat down on the sofa. She was already flipping to the first page when he plopped down beside her. Spirited, Sarah began to speak quickly, chronicling everything she remembered about the events captured in the photos.
Sarah Bartowski was telling their story.
Most Chuck knew (of course), but throughout she surprised him with little details he had forgotten or never knew. He was unsure how much time had passed –maybe an hour, maybe two– when Sarah finished the last page and closed the binder. Chuck rolled his head. He felt light. The despondency that had been lurking within him the past few days was gone. The corners of his mouth did however slightly ache. He realized he must have been grinning ear-to-ear the entire time that Sarah was recounting what she remembered.
Chuck shifted and his hand bumped the remote controller. He glanced at it and then looked at the television. Morgan. I should've known. Thanks, buddy.
Chuck turned back to Sarah with the grin still on his face, expecting to find her with the same, but instead she was drumming her fingers on the binder cover, staring at him through narrowed eyes, her mouth pinched.
"Uh, what is it?" Chuck asked hesitantly.
"I remembered something."
"You certainly did. I'd say a boatload of somethings."
"No, I remembered something else: Morgan–"
"I was thinking about him, too."
"–and a different binder."
Chuck was confused. "Huh?"
"Tits? Really? Oh, I bet you and Morgan thought yourselves so clever."
Chuck burst into laughter and as he did Sarah's exaggerated expression of disapproval slipped, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. "Well, huh," Chuck said, "Not a memory I thought this binder would stir up. As for the Tee, Eye and the rest, you have to remember, it was an acronym. It had dots."
Chuck's laughter began again as Sarah playfully slapped his chest, but he swallowed the last of it as he realized she was now intently looking at him. He was spellbound by what he saw in her blue eyes. A decision had been made by her, he was sure of it.
"Do you remember our last happy moment before Quinn tried to come between us, Chuck? Because I do: we were sitting in bed together on the train and you were drawing a picture, a picture of you and me in front of this house. But you didn't stop there. Do you remember how you finished that drawing?"
Chuck's pulse began to quicken. "I had drawn… a small bundle." I drew us with a baby.
Sarah smirked at Chuck's cagey reply. "You drew us with a baby, and we both said 'someday.' Well, Sweetie, my head is clear and my heart is sure, and they are both telling me 'someday' is today. We're together. We have the house. Let's finish that drawing."
Sarah continued to stare into Chuck's now wide eyes. After a moment she began scrunching and unscrunching her brow and squinting her eyes. Chuck had been both thrilled and struck dumb by what Sarah was saying. Now he was perplexed by what he saw. He regained his voice.
"Why are you making that face?"
"It's not supposed to be a 'face.' It's the Bartowski eyebrow dance." Sarah's expression was now a mixture of frustration and mirth.
"Oh, Honey, that needs work."
"How's this then?" Sarah lowered her chin, peered at Chuck through her eyelashes with an expression that was shimmering heat, passionate and intense. It promised –practically threatened– that marvelous bliss lay ahead. Oh, boy! Something stirred for Chuck. There was definitely a stirring. He felt lightheaded.
Sarah stood –Chuck's eyes following her every movement– and slowly stretched one arm towards him and beckoned with her index finger. Without a word, she turned on her heels and slowly walked towards the bedroom. Chuck noticed she did not look back. She knows I will follow. She saw my decision in my eyes. Chuck was grinning ear-to-ear again as he stood and followed behind. Sarah reached the doorway of their bedroom and stopped, her hands to her back, open, fingers splayed. Chuck came up behind her and interlaced his fingers in hers. Sarah turned her head to look over her shoulder at him.
"If we have a daughter, Chuck, I would like her to take ballet."
They gently kissed and then entered the bedroom.
It was time to make new memories.
THE END
xXXXx
A/N: Thank you very much for reading (and re-reading if you read the original version), and a special thanks to those who have left reviews and/or exchanged PMs with me. Writing a story is a satisfying experience, but the reaction from/interaction with readers has proven to be the biggest delight in doing fanfic.
A *huge* thank you to WillieGarvin for letting me tie my story to his story "Sarah vs the Kiss" (SvtK), for his enthusiastic support, for repeatedly reviewing drafts of the original version and of this updated version, and for always putting up with a deluge of messages during my efforts to write fanfic. When I first started drafting the original story I thought I wanted to tell how my favorite fictional couple ended up in the red doored house (because surely they did), but the influence of SvtK led me to realize quickly that what mattered most to me was how, after getting her feelings back, the two got Sarah her memories back (because surely they did) and the house just came along for the ride. In the end, I felt the home that mattered most was the one Sarah had in Chuck (the "You're home" said/"Your home" heard in the story was not a typo :-) ).
Thanks to David Carner for his encouragement as I worked on this story. Thanks to Zettel, who has stimulated my thinking about "Chuck" for the last couple of years via his fanfic and his blog essays and PM exchanges, and for beta'ing parts of the original version of this story, helping to make those parts tighter, which carried through into this version.
I attempted to stay faithful to SvtK and the television show, so recalls of events or dialog that occurred prior to the time of my story can be found in SvtK or the episodes. For example, the conversation Ellie had with Chuck in his bedroom in the series finale that she reminds him about in my story, or when Chuck picture's Quinn's face and in his mind shouts at Quinn that he lied to and used Sarah, which is what he said to Quinn when Quinn arrived at the house in the show's penultimate episode. The most significant recall of show dialog is the "gift" and "home" that Sarah hears herself describing Chuck as. (Characters wouldn't necessarily have verbatim recollection of past conversations, so at times they may naturally paraphrase.)
The VelJohnson mention was a bit of realities collide fun. The actor appeared in an episode of "Chuck" and his character was a police officer with the same name as his character in "Die Hard" (Al Powell). That potentially means "Chuck" exists in a universe where the events of "Die Hard" were real, which, if that's the case, means the "Die Hard" movie that exists in the show's universe (which it does) and that Chuck and Morgan were watching -and that Morgan quotes ("Hans, bubby,...")- was some alternate universe "Die Hard." Uh, maybe? Someone else will have to figure that out.