Chuck vs the Wedding

by MicroGirl1225

This is an all in canon tale of Chuck and Sarah's wedding, the parts that we didn't see. From the proposal to the big day.

A/N: Thank you to my coach, again, for always helping me to write the best story possible.

Disclaimer: This story contains dialogue from the Chuck episode "Chuck vs the Seduction Impossible" written by Chris Fedak and Kristin Newman

Chuck vs the Proposal

February 2, 2011

"Chuck!"

He heard Sarah's voice before he saw her, shifting his eyes through a small throng of people in the hospital lobby. General Beckman had assured him inside his father's cabin that both Sarah and his mother were safe in Burbank, but her voice and presence here were still relieving to him. Two people stepped away, clearing the path in front of him, and he saw her. Blonde again, and dressed in a lilac top and jeans, looking like his Sarah again.

He moved towards her, dodging another couple slowly strolling in front of him. Sarah was running, and shortened the space between them almost instantly. She dove at him, her arms hard around his neck and her feet lifted slightly off the ground as he returned the embrace with gusto. He said nothing, his eyes pressed closed tightly, his hand on the back of her head, holding her against him with all his might.

"You did it! I knew you could," she gushed in his ear, her unwavering faith in him glowing in her voice.

He hesitated, not wanting to feel her out of his arms, after so long a separation where she had been so far from him, but releasing the tight grip so he could look in her eyes. The love he saw was the balm he needed, a salve to calm the burning rage he still felt, knowing Volkoff in prison forever after was not enough to rectify the damage he had wrought on Chuck's family. She was his greatest comfort, the life waiting for them a solace for 20 years of pain and loneliness.

But nothing he had been able to do would have been possible had she not sacrificed everything to help him put his family back together.

The thoughts tumbled through his brain faster than his mouth could form words. He had only been with her for less than 12 hours in the past month and so much had happened. Things he had wanted to tell her on the Contessa, but there just hadn't been time. Now he didn't know where to begin. "Sarah, Casey-"

"Morgan told me he's ok. He was on his way back to Alex when I saw him," she said, her arms still wrapped around his neck. She saw the pain flash on his face, feeling the stab of guilt at what she had inadvertently put them all through. "Chuck," she started desperately, "Volkoff traced the call I made to him. I pushed him out the window with the intention of him landing on the window washing platform. It was his idea. The cable was loose and he fell…" Her voice caught in her throat, and she breathed out hard. "Turning around from that and not coming apart was almost more than I could handle," she whispered. She looked at the floor, shifting her eyes away, seeing his face again as it had been in that empty room, the horror in his eyes. So many nights in Russia she had woken in a cold sweat, stifling a scream, that face in her mind, fearing he could never forgive her...

He closed his eyes, breathing out heavily, knowing the truth had to be something similar to this, even as he had sat wringing his hands in despair in Casey's hospital room, clinging to his faith in her but worried that she was slipping away from him, turning into someone he wouldn't have been able to recognize. "I don't know how long I was unconscious...but the second I woke up I ran down to the courtyard. He was breathing when I found him, but the paramedics thought his neck was broken-" Chuck coughed to cover up the sob, unable to hide the pain that memory caused. He had never been more afraid of anything in his life than he had been at that moment, reaching for Casey's pulse on his neck, worried he wouldn't find one, worried that the boiling rage he felt, directed at Sarah, the person he loved more than any other, would never subside if Casey was dead, no matter the explanation...

She grabbed him again, hugging him like she was clinging to a tree in a tornado. "I'm so sorry, Chuck," she whispered. "To do that to you...and just walk away…"

He reached up with both hands, pulled her head off his shoulder gently, running his thumbs gently across each cheek as he met her eyes that glistened with unshed tears. "I know, Sarah. I know how hard that must have been for you. I do."

"Chuck!"

He started at the sound of his name again, this time coming from his mother. "Ellie's in the delivery room! Let's go. You made it back just in time." He saw her, in a drab olive sweater, looking like his mother, like the 20 years in between were just gone.

He reached down for Sarah's hand, turned as they started rushing hand in hand toward the corridor his mother had beckoned him from. "Beckman gave us a chopper," he said softly, to both women as they hurried along. He saw his mother pause, maybe just a fraction of a second longer than was necessary, taking in the sight of them hand in hand. Her smile was warm, grateful.

"That's all?" Mary quipped. "You took him down almost by yourself. That's quite a feat, you know."

"I had some help," he said, looking at Sarah out of the corner of his eye, half of his mouth turned up softly.

"Quite a team, you two. Reminds me of another couple I used to know," she said gently, turning her face away so Chuck couldn't see the emotion welling as she thought about her husband, gone but never out of her heart.

Chuck laughed nervously, feeling the sharp lump of the red box in his jacket pocket. He had needed to change out of his bloodied clothing quickly on his way, and when he had seen the box on his nightstand he had grabbed it. It had been over a month since he had tried the first time, to propose to Sarah, when she had been arrested on the balcony. It was the only thing he had left to do, he thought.

XXX

Sarah could feel Chuck's palm sweating as he held her hand tightly and pressed hard against the center of his chest. He's worried about Ellie, she told herself, even as she felt his heart hammering behind his breastbone with the back of her hand. Was it more than that? He seemed too nervous, for just his niece's entry into the world.

She heard the hitch in his breath, how he seemed to be panting but holding it inside with his mouth closed. She watched him lift his head, reaching gently to brush her hair back away from her forehead. His eyes when he looked at her radiated so much emotion, she began to understand truly all he was struggling to hold inside.

She felt the rush of her own emotions, rinsing down the inside of her. It felt surreal in the moment. The world had turned upside down since that moment on the balcony in France, when the perfect moment had been so cruelly interrupted, the movement of their life forward sidetracked by her mission to help Chuck put his shattered family back together.

The cavern inside her had grown enormous, putting the distance between them Mary had advised her to do. It had taken too long to know if Casey was still alive, worrying that she had left Chuck alone to deal with his death and his distrust of her. Seeing him above her on the vessel, his hair still damp, his absence from her life for so long physically hurting. But it all evaporated as he'd rushed to her, even as she'd admonished him for showing up, putting himself in danger.

She was mesmerized, the look in his eyes familiar and holding her still and paralyzed. When he released her hand and rose to his feet, she knew instantly what he was doing. Her insides turned liquid, rushing like a river that seemed to be flowing from the center of her heart and enlivening every cell. She looked up, her lips parted as her breathing suddenly became labored, seeing the faint film of tears on his hazel eyes, shimmering in contrast to the navy shirt he wore. His mouth creased in a soft line as he pulled the box out, flipped it open toward her, saying nothing.

Everything he had wanted to say he had already said, twice in fact, once on the balcony and once in a holding cell in Castle. Once on his feet and the other on one knee. His palms may have been sweaty as he sat, waiting to do this, thinking about what it meant. But there was no fear here-this was a formality. They were so deep inside each other's hearts, no words were necessary now.

Her eyes widened at the sight-the large glistening jewel, a perfectly round and flawless diamond in a gleaming platinum band. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Jewelry in and of itself had never been a focus of hers, in her line of work. A few nice pairs of earrings was all she ever really wore. Along with the bracelet Chuck had given her for Christmas. Her mind scrolled back, remembering the conversation in the Nerd Herder as they had raced back to Ellie's apartment at the break of dawn after the CIA had almost taken Chuck into custody, reeking of trash and sweat. He had been exhausted from all night of stress and no sleep, babbling away about how enormous he thought the ring was, the shock of seeing it for the first time, the fear that he had lost it. Her only response to him, in her own exhaustion and relief that he was still hers to protect, had been that even if he hadn't found it, Ellie still would have married Devon. Because he was the one for her. Jewelry meant nothing, in comparison.

True, Chuck could have been standing here with the curtain pull from the train in Europe-it made no difference to her. She felt the same. But Devon had inherited that ring from his great-grandmother. This ring represented months and months of Chuck sacrificing to buy it for her. It was a brilliant star sparkling under the fluorescent lights in the hospital hallway, as beautiful as his eyes that overflowed with love as he still looked at her, the second before he stooped down on one knee.

She launched forward, kissing him rather than mar this perfect moment with words that were inadequate to express all that he meant to her. The soft drone of a floor polisher hummed in the back of her head as a janitor shuffled along with his back to them, oblivious to the miracle he had been privy to witness.

XXX

Ellie looked radiantly happy, even as the exhaustion on her face was apparent. She looked up from her baby briefly to smile at her brother, her face overrun with emotion.

"Congratulations, guys," Chuck said happily as they walked into the room. Devon stood at her bedside, looking only slightly less worn out than his wife. They walked slowly into the room, cautiously approaching the tiny pink swaddled bundle in Ellie's arms.

"Ellie, she's beautiful," Sarah beamed, a radiant smile lighting her face and her eyes. "I think she looks like you," Sarah added with a chuckle.

It was a quick shift of her eyes, but Chuck knew something so significant as the ring on Sarah's finger wouldn't go unnoticed by his sister for very long. "Sarah!" Ellie shrieked, jostling her arm as a cue for her husband to take the baby from her. Devon quickly complied, relieving Ellie of her package. Ellie reached out her hand, squealing, "You guys are engaged?"

Chuck lifted his arm and draped it over Sarah's shoulder, kissing her temple as he nodded, smiling quietly.

"Oh my God, this is great news!" Ellie laughed, overjoyed at the sudden abundance of good news that seemed to surround them.

"Awesome, you two," Devon said with a smile, as he shifted his gaze from them to his daughter resting peacefully in his arms.

"Today's your day," Sarah said diplomatically, gently extracting her hand from Ellie's intense scrutinizing of her new adornment. "We have plenty of time to tell everyone."

They stayed, chatting, the focus brought back to Chuck's brand new niece after Sarah's expert deflection. Sarah had laughed at Chuck's sheer terror when Ellie had asked if he wanted to hold Clara. "I don't know how to hold a baby," he had lamented, even as Ellie had insisted and pulled him forward for Devon to deposit her in his arms. He had looked almost as uncomfortable as he had at the sight of needles, a few shades paler and sweating profusely. It took several minutes for him to relax, but Clara was so peacefully oblivious, it calmed him. She really did look like Ellie, he thought, as he studied her round chin and flat cheekbones.

Sarah's non-stop smile was only broken as Ellie added, "Sarah, you'll be her aunt pretty soon! That's so wonderful. I knew from the first day I met you that you were the one for my brother. Even if, you know, it was supposed to not be real then."

Noticing how Sarah had blanched, Chuck interjected, "Let's take it easy, Sis. We've only been engaged for 15 minutes. It needs to sink in a little."

A knock on the hospital room door interrupted the conversation. Morgan stuck his head through the cracked door. "Congrats, Woodcomb family," he said with a smile. After a few smiles were exchanged, Morgan added, "I'm leaving to take Alex home. She's been here all day with Casey."

Chuck saw his un-subtle look, eyebrows lifted, as he shifted himself to see Sarah's hand. Chuck only tilted his head, giving Morgan a gentle thumbs up. While he did so, Chuck missed the wink Sarah gave Morgan from the other side, tilting her hand outward so he could see her ring. "Finally!" Morgan beamed, shaking his head and laughing as he shut the door.

"Finally?" Sarah questioned, crossing her arms gently.

"You know what they say, Sweetie," he said with a smile. "Fourth time's the charm." Chuck and Sarah laughed at the private joke, even as Ellie and Devon looked on in confusion.

Chuck vs Eloping

February 9, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Sarah sat, her legs folded into a pretzel shape, on her side of the bed, beside Chuck whose head rested in his hand as he was stretched out lengthwise next to her. "I meant what I said. I should have just told you what was bothering me right away, instead of playing those games and trying to change your mind."

"I should have realized it like I said. It's just that, you know, I always felt like you were part of my family. Stuff like that just doesn't jump out at me," he told her.

She felt the warmth inside, knowing how true his words were. She had always had her own seat at Ellie's table, almost from the first day she had met the Bartowski clan. He had told her pretty early on how broken his own family had been, though he had found out later that they shared that in common. He had created a new family to fill the emptiness losing his parents had caused, while she had immersed herself in a life where she had lived utterly alone for a very long time. A family wedding only seemed to remind her how alone she truly was.

She looked into her lap as she spoke again. "I know how important your family is to you. Marriage is about compromise, but it's also about sacrificing for the person you love. I won't take something away from you because I don't want to deal with my family. It's not fair to you."

He reached into her lap for her hand and held it. "My family is small, all things considered, Sarah. My mom, my sister and Devon. Friends, you know. Even at Ellie's wedding," he looked up, tilting his head, "the one that Jeffster set fire to...most of those people were Devon's family. And doctors Ellie and Devon work with. Plus their friends."

"You don't have to not invite people, Chuck, if that's what-"

"No, no, Sarah. That's not what I meant. It's just not as bad as you think. No uncles, no cousins, no mailman's brother's nephews...none of that. Just close friends and family. People who we love, who love us," he finished softly.

Chuck's family was small, but intense, like she had said. In all that worry, she had lost sight of what he was talking about. She did have people who cared about her, now, thanks to him. Her mind blinked on the memory, holding his hand in the Buy More listening to Jeffster sing "Africa," telling him she had no one in her life that cared about her. That wasn't true anymore. "You're right," she said, leaning forward and nestling herself into his outstretched arm.

He shifted to lay on his back, and she leaned back, his shoulder like a pillow under her head. Resting against him relaxed her tense muscles, calmed her jumbled thoughts as she contemplated what had truly upset her. "Well, I'm glad we talked," he said softly. She heard his voice softly reverberating as her ear lay against his chest.

"Me too," she responded quietly. "I think eloping just seemed like a way for me to avoid my family."

"Sarah, you've done so much to help my family. How can I help yours?" he asked sincerely.

"I don't know. It's different," she lamented quietly. She could feel herself tense, thinking of the complex layers, not all of which he knew, not all of which she could even tell him. He had met her father. Wasn't that enough? she thought. Need she really explain why involving him in any part of her life was complicated?

"Sarah, come on," he prodded gently. "It's our job to take care of some of the world's biggest problems. Terrorists and despots and oligarchs. I think we can handle a family. Even yours."

He felt her shift slightly, sensing the increased tension in her muscles. Afraid he was making things worse, he offered, "Hey, hey. You are Sarah Walker. The most mysterious woman in the world. So as the future Mr. Sarah Walker, can't I get to know you better?"

She couldn't answer him, instead lifted her eyes and gazed out the window. She could see the shafts of moonlight shining from the water surface in the courtyard fountain. The gentle stillness of the night seemed to fill her, calming the racing thoughts. It was too difficult here to explain, too much of herself to lay raw and open, even in this soft closeness she felt. He was right, she knew. He deserved to know everything. She was closer to him than she had been to anyone else in her entire life, even the family he spoke of to her. But the Sarah he knew had no past-because the woman she had been before she had met him no longer existed. She had told him that, in a roundabout way, more than once. How to make him understand that going back there-talking about that, thinking about that, letting him into that, was more pain than she could bear. She had changed into the person worthy of his love, who was able to love him completely in return. Perhaps that was the hardest thing-to acknowledge how horribly unlovable she had thought herself to be.

Chuck vs the Engagement Party

February 13, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Sarah glanced quickly at the time, knowing most of the guests were already here, hearing the quiet murmur of multiple conversations just outside the window in their bedroom. Forty people, Chuck had told her. Ellie had gone over the guest list with him, and that was the number. She had been at many functions, even danced almost solo in front of many more people than that. The difference, she knew, was that, this time, she was just herself. Sarah. And all these people were here to wish her and Chuck congratulations on their recent engagement. From her side, there were really only two-Carina and Zondra, both women who were her friends. Years of misunderstanding and mistrust cleared, thanks to Chuck, had left her better than she had imagined when she had first learned how he had tried to contact her past acquaintances.

Sarah walked to stand in front of the mirror, smoothing down the skirt of her short dress, twisting the ring on her finger, a nervous habit she had seemed to develop since she had started wearing the transparent gem on her hand. There are not just two people here for you, she admonished herself. Casey, Ellie, Devon, Morgan, and Alex were all here for her as much as they were for Chuck. What a completely dismal job of communicating that to him she had done. Instead she had been angry, petulant, downright cruel, she thought with chagrin. She had what she needed, because she had him. She thought he knew that, but then again, she had never really told him that, had she? Nothing was more important to her fiance than his family. She should have just told him outright that his family had become her family, already, even before they were married. Finding the words was still difficult. She was much better at showing him how she felt than telling him, even after all this time.

God, he had been apologizing for days, even after her blast of temper, even after he had been proven right. He had found the traitor, despite her insistence that all that information was old and there was nothing else he could hope to find. She should have believed in him a little more, she knew. She felt her stomach twisting in dismay, ashamed at how she had treated him after he had only tried to help her.

Help her, she scoffed.

She had told him she didn't need any. Independent and solitary was how she had always been. But no longer. And she did need him, for so many things. Everything he had learned after confronting his past, looking for and finding answers to questions that had plagued him all his life, had taught him that was the way to make himself whole again. Big picture, he had said. Not just in search of bridesmaids to fill a dress and stand in a photograph. Put the past to rest instead of running from it the rest of her life, like she had been all the way up to this point.

Chuck had become the best possible version of himself-for her. She knew this, cherished this, having seen the man he was now inside him when she had only just met him. She had loved him regardless-but he had found himself. She knew he loved her the same way that he always had. But he deserved the best of her. The best he was only just beginning to draw out.

Chuck vs the Officiant

February 20, 2011

"Are you sure you're ok?" Sarah asked him, her head resting on her hand, pressed against the pillow. He lay on his back, his arms crossed across his chest. The sadness seemed to leach from him, pooling on the pillow beside him like a tangible thing. The line of his jaw was tight, his teeth clenched together, a thick wall to hold in his emotion.

He breathed out hard, a heavy sigh that lasted longer than she had anticipated. "I am. It just...you know...happened kinda fast is all…I just…" He stopped talking, sighed, covering his face with his hand.

"You told him we both wanted him to stay, right?" she asked quietly. "I meant it, Chuck. It never bothered me, ever, that he lived with us."

"I know, Sarah. I know. That means a lot to me, that you do. But as hard as it was to accept, Morgan was right. We're getting married. Our lives are changing. I just…"

"You love him, like he's your brother." After a short pause, she began again. "It must have been hard when you left for Stanford, right? Leaving Ellie and him here when you left?" she asked.

"I mean, I was excited then. Living my dream," he smiled, reaching back for the memory. "But, yeah, it was hard. I had never spent more than a night away from Ellie my entire life. The first night in my dorm I couldn't sleep...I missed her so much. It sounds lame now, but-"

"No, it isn't," she insisted. She waited, trying to find the right words, when words in themselves never came easily for her. "Change is hard. But you said it-life is always changing. You can't avoid changes. But your relationship-how you feel-never changes. He'll always be your best friend. That's rare, Chuck, to have a best friend for that long, and know that you always will, no matter what."

She slid across the space separating them, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiled softly, warmed at her comfort even though his insides still felt tender. "And you're right. I'm living my dream again-my best dream. Better than I ever thought was possible." He kissed her forehead, feeling her smile against his cheek before she kissed him gently.

"He wants to marry us," Chuck said gently, clicking off the light.

"What?" He realized after the words were out how it sounded, and why she sounded like she thought he was crazy.

"No, not, you know, marry us...officiate, or whatever you call it. Perform the ceremony," he clarified.

"He can do that?" she asked.

Chuck laughed. "It's a long story. The short version-he took a class to impress a girl. He is certified to legally marry people in the state of California. Honest truth."

He could feel Sarah's breath against his cheek as she breathed out, laughing softly herself. "So he's doing double duty? Best man and minister?"

"Minister...is a stretch. But yes. That's ok, right?" he asked.

"Of course it's ok, Chuck. It's actually very sweet," she sighed.

Chuck drifted to sleep smiling, the bittersweet sadness of his friend's departure from their apartment no longer a crushing weight on his chest, only a flutter of memory.

Chuck vs the Dress

March 2, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

"Uh...Sweetie?" Sarah heard Chuck calling as the front door clicked shut softly. She dropped her shopping bags on the bed and rushed out to greet him. He had a strange, almost dazed expression on his face.

"How did the talk with Vivian go? How did she take it?" Sarah asked as she stood in front of him.

He seemed startled, like he wasn't expecting the question. "The what?" He turned his head, shaking off the fog and the eerie sense he had seen Sarah slightly bride-zilla-ish. "Oh, yeah," he added, back to the situation at hand. "She seemed to understand. I told her I won't give up," he said. His face was serious and thoughtful. "I don't have a good feeling, though. I can't explain it. I feel like she shut down a bit, was just yes-ing me."

"She was so...appreciative before." Sarah was thoughtful herself, a soft voice in the back of her mind sounding an alarm that she was forced to quiet.

"They lied to her. And me, to get what they wanted. Just the job, right?" he sighed bitterly.

"I know," she said softly, knowing he felt betrayed, even though it was like she had told him long ago-nothing was real, everything was complicated. He still resisted it at every turn, and she loved him for it, but it made times like this worse. She kissed his cheek softly, resting her hand on the center of his chest, as if she could touch his heart.

"You smell like hazelnut," he said softly as she pulled away. "Cake, I assume? How was that?"

Sarah's eyes lit up, a wide beaming smile on her face. "I can't even tell you how amazing it was! Remember that pastry shop we walked to in Paris after we...you know," she said with a blush rising on her cheeks at the mention. Her glee was infectious, and he found himself smiling despite the trouble he had just spoken of. "Just like that little hazelnut cream puff...with the chocolate frosting...oh, it was so good."

"So cake, check. See? Not so bad, right?" he asked. He smiled hesitantly, wondering what else was going to come spilling out of her mouth after the giddy excitement he'd heard on his way back through the courtyard.

"Yes. And flowers. Lilies. Fine for a spring wedding. And I bought the dress!" She was still beaming, happy in a way Chuck rarely saw.

"You know, Sweetie, we have a budget. Not necessarily a Buy More salary budget...but...you know, a certain amount we shouldn't go over-"

"I know," she said slowly, like she was humoring him.

"You sounded like you were trying to plan the Royal Wedding. William and Kate have a tad more...uh...resources available…"

Sarah laughed, her hand flat on her chest, smoothing down the ruffles on the front of her shirt. Chuck was laughing with her, but he sounded strained. "Maybe I was getting a little carried away," she admitted, one corner of her mouth turning up gently. "You know, your sister told me it would just happen. Turn into magic. I really didn't buy it, you know, not being quite as...oh, I don't know, girly as your sister is. But I put that dress on…" She breathed out, feeling winded as she recalled the feeling. "It didn't just feel magical. It felt real. It's really happening. We're getting married."

The strained look slowly faded, a gentle smile taking its place as he looked on. "That's kind of magical, though, right?" he kidded.

"Dreamy," she kidded back.

"So, you saw my suit. Can I see your dress?" he asked, resting his hand on her hip as he stood close.

"That's bad luck!" she said playfully. He had only opened his mouth when she raised her hand. "I know, you don't believe that. Need I remind you what happened the last time you said that?"

His eyes widened, the smile slipping slightly. "No, no. That fiasco is emblazoned on my brain forever, thank you. Good point," he said, moving past her to sit on the sofa.

She turned back towards him. "I can tell you about it though. At least a little," she said excitedly, rushing up and sitting beside him. "I found the design in the wardrobe computer. Gorgeous dress. But it had some...uh...bullet holes in the one I tried on. When I showed it to Ellie, she loved it. She said it reminded her of her dress-the second one, the one that didn't get ruined. Her replacement dress came from the Castle wardrobe, remember? I freaked out. I thought they were identical, but there were some minor differences. And I realized as much as I loved it, there was no way I could pull that off two years later with almost all the same people there."

She watched his face fall. "Oh, Sarah, that was the dress you were so excited about? I'm sorry," he said gently, wondering how restrained Ellie had been, or if she in fact really and truly wouldn't have cared.

"But, Chuck, it ended up being totally ok. I found the perfect dress. You will love it," she told him.

"How could I not?" he teased with a smile.

"It may still look familiar to you, at least part of it," she said slyly.

"It's not Ilsa's dress, is it?" he asked cautiously.

She laughed briefly. "No, Chuck. It wasn't a real dress, until I gave the dressmaker the photo," she said softly, waiting for him to understand what she was hinting at.

He sat forward, his hands between his knees. "Sarah…" He couldn't say anything else, just her name, knowing instantly what she was alluding to. The CIA house in the suburbs, where their cover had been a married couple. His mind scrolled back, remembering the vast array of doctored photographs on the walls of the home and on the ornamental tables in the entryway. An oil painting, and a photograph that were wedding photos. The shock of seeing them back then had fixed them in his memory, the photo where she was in his arms, the long, plain white satin skirt billowing down over his arms to the ground. The painting was close up of the top-a strapless neckline, satin and organza.

She reached for his hand and held it. "Whenever I used to think about that...living a normal life...being with you, being a couple, married...I was always in that dress. I don't think I really understood that, until I was talking to Ellie." She turned to him, smiling, her eyes shining with love. "You look a little different than you did in those photos. So it's not the exact same. But that's my dress, Chuck."

He pulled her hand towards him, held it against his chest slightly before raising it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. She had rendered him speechless, quite a feat, he knew. He smiled, swallowing down over the ache in his throat that persisted as he held back the torrent of emotion, holding the proof of what he had always known coming at him now in her words. He pulled her into his arms and held her, time ticking away on the clock but seeming to stand still.

It was after a very long, comfortable silence, that he said softly, "Maybe we need to hire a wedding planner. Could help us stay on track, you know, on budget."

"Ok, Chuck," she agreed quickly. "Let's start looking."

Chuck vs the Prenup

April 13, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Sarah sat up in the dark, peering toward the nightstand clock, noticing the spot in the bed beside her that was still empty, as the time was ready to tick past two in the morning. She hadn't been able to fall asleep herself-in part because she still had things she wanted to talk to Chuck about, her conversation with him interrupted by his disturbing revelation from Ellie, in part only because he wasn't beside her yet, which meant he was too wound up to sleep and was refraining from coming to bed so he wouldn't keep her up.

She stretched, leaning down so her head rested against his pillow, breathing in the scent of him on the sheet. A brief flash of regret burned in her chest as she thought again about the prenuptial agreement she had just left for him to sign without ever discussing it with him. Long ago in their relationship, she had promised him no more secrets, no more lies, and he had agreed. Even after that, she knew it hadn't been completely smooth sailing. Even before, Chuck had never lied to her in a malicious way, really only ever to protect her somehow, whether it was his potential mental decay from the Intersect or the danger involved in looking for his mother. She should have just talked to him about it first, she knew.

But she still had one secret from him, one dark and horrible secret that no matter what, she knew she could never tell him. Despite the fact that she trusted Chuck more than any other human being on the face of the earth, more than anyone else she had ever known, it was about more than trust. It was about protecting him, she told herself. Protecting him from dangerous knowledge that could be turned against him, while at the same time protecting her mother. She had only even brought her up in conversation a few times with Chuck, and as much as he was pushing to get her family back together, she knew if Chuck knew everything, he would want to fix it. Fix it for her, and her family, and her life and future going forward. That was who he was, why she loved him as much as she did.

But the truth and the secrets behind it were too awful, too lethal if anyone ever found out the truth. An act of defiance she had committed to protect an innocent child, a child whose life would be forever in danger should anyone ever know she existed or where she was. Something deep inside Sarah, the part that understood that it had been the fault of all of the adults in her life when she had been so young and innocent that had led her down the path where she had been that night-murdering dozens of people, for what turned out to be a play for money. It was too late for her, but not this child-witness to horrors she couldn't understand and would never remember except maybe in some awful childhood nightmares that would never be explained.

The baby would have Emma, Sarah's mother, to rush to her room in the middle of the night should any of those dreams terrorize her nights. The young heiress would have everything Sarah had never had, she told herself. That was what she had wanted most eagerly to protect-the young girl's chance at safety and love and normalcy. Telling anyone, even Chuck, could put that at risk.

Her father finding out about Molly was the absolute worst case scenario she could ever think of. Jack Burton, her father by the last name he had been using when he had been arrested and put away for ten years, was a con man. He loved her in his own way, she knew, but in a way that had left her woefully short of what she had truly needed while she was growing up. He had never put her first, in anything he had ever done. She had come to this realization as she had matured, slowly changing her perception of her father, though somehow never completely shutting down her love or devotion to him. Sarah's inability to trust anyone, to let herself be vulnerable enough to trust anyone else, came from her father's perpetual untrustworthiness. That was the true meaning behind the need for the prenup, she told herself.

In her heart, she could see no path forward without Chuck. Still, she knew, no one ever got married with the belief that it wasn't going to be forever. At least in her perception of the world, perhaps some had the statistics behind them, laughing in the face of potential doom with fatalism. But she and Chuck were different, in almost every way. Not normal by any stretch of the definition, although she had learned that normal wasn't exactly necessary, so long as they were happy. She spent more time with Chuck than a normal girl would her boyfriend. She lived with him, worked with him, socialized with his family and friends almost exclusively. Even now, she knew, the long weeks she had been in Russia trying to save Chuck's mother had been the longest stretch they had ever been apart. And since they had gotten engaged, the only time she was without Chuck was when he was with Morgan, across the courtyard in John Casey's apartment. She had told him nothing would ever change how she felt about him, and nothing ever would.

She also knew that wasn't necessarily enough. Her own parents had loved each other, maybe just as much, although she only remembered them hating each other. She shivered involuntarily, knowing it was an impossibility-hating Chuck. But she had also known what it felt like to love him, and not be with him. That was a fear, a fear she kept to herself. Knowledge that he had feared losing her, not being enough for her, had nearly destroyed her when she had almost lost him to the Belgian. She was nothing without him.

Choosing to say nothing had always been her best self-defense, but here, she had been wrong. His reaction, his coolness, had unnerved her afterward, because it had surprised her. Just the thought that he could be so nonchalant about the end of them was unfathomable. But it had helped put her own worry into perspective. Protecting him from her family drama, so much worse than anything he already knew and even worse than anything he could ever have imagined, had been her only intention. And the real reason was not possible to discuss with him.

But she knew now, there was no circumstance where the document she had drawn up would have been necessary. She knew Chuck, and he was better than that. Better than anyone she had ever known, better than she had thought was possible for a person to be. And he loved her, the real her, even the darkest, ugliest parts of her she hated, parts she wished she could just scrub from her life and her memories. He always had.

She turned, saw the time was now closer to three in the morning. She was still alone in their bed. Reaching for her purple robe, she flipped the covers back and wrapped her arms into the robe. Standing and tying the sash, she turned as a shadow slowly blocked the light from the hall nightlight. The soft shuffling of his feet filled the silence. "Sarah, why are you awake?" he asked gently, moving to sit on his side of the bed.

"I woke up and you weren't here. It's the middle of the night," she said, sitting down and curling her legs up underneath her. "What's wrong?"

Sighing, he told her, "My sister. Lying to me. What's going on, Sarah? I know I was dishonest with her for a long time, even right now, but, I don't know, it's just...different. I had to do that, at least in the beginning, to protect her."

"It could be sort of the same thing. Maybe she's trying to protect you from something," Sarah offered.

Even in the dark with only shadowy edges of his face visible, she saw the anxiety on his face. "I think you may be right, and that scares me to death. What is she doing? That she would need to keep from me?"

She reached for him in the dark, running her hand along the taught muscles in his back. "Talk to Devon, Chuck. He might know, you know, give you an idea what's been going on. What she's really been doing with the laptop."

He nodded first, then added, "You're right. But, Sarah, you know the lengths he went through to keep her away from my spy life. Why just invite it all back in like that?"

She continued rubbing his back, reaching up his neck and running her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck, gently raking her fingers along his scalp. She heard him sigh with contentment at the sensation. "I wanted to talk to you, you know, about the prenup-"

He turned his head sharply. "We already did. It's ok, Sarah," he said softly.

"I owe you a better explanation. Or an explanation, more than just an apology," she said sincerely.

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do, at least a little," she said. She felt him wrap his arm around her and pull her against him as he lay down. Nestling herself against his chest, so suddenly comfortable she felt groggy and ready to sleep, she started, "It wasn't about you. Or us. It's about my family. My dad."

She felt his heavy breath inside his chest as the silence softened around them. "Somehow, I thought it might have been. At least a little anyway." He waited, wondering, looking for words he could use to broach the topic, trying to get her to open up more to him about her mysterious past and the family he knew almost nothing about. Against him, he felt her muscles tense in apprehension. He sensed he wouldn't get any further explanation. After a longer pause, he added, "Shouldn't you even just let your dad know you're getting married? Or your mother? You know-"

"I haven't spoken to my mother for a very long time," she blurted, in a clipped tone that told him it was all she was going to say about it. He sighed, gently rubbing her arm. No more words here. As the silence lingered, she realized he was asleep. But her sleep for the night was done.

Chuck vs the Father of the Bride

April 19, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Engrossed in the James Bond movie he was watching, Chuck felt the goosebumps on his forearms, remembering suddenly that Sarah had gone to grab a blanket from their bedroom. He had no accurate measure of time, but many events in the movie seemed to have transpired while he sat waiting, his mind calculating just how long she had been gone. He jumped up, pausing the movie with his remote, making his way down the hallway towards the bedroom. The door was ajar, and from the hallway he could see the shadowy figure of Sarah on the bed, slightly turned away.

Always on alert due to their dangerous profession, his immediate instinct told him something was wrong. His heart started beating faster as he moved into the room. "Sarah, are you all right?" he asked as he approached. From the edge of the bed, he took in the sight-thousands and thousands of dollars rolled into rubber bands spread out next to her. She was cradling a small ceramic piggy bank against her chest with one hand, while she was swiping at her cheeks with the other hand.

She turned to look at him, her hand moving from her cheek to the base of her throat. Her hand fluttered back and forth, as if she were trying to force out words that wouldn't come. It was her eyes that left him breathless-the tears she was crying were tears of joy, a multitude of emotions reflecting back at him. She held out the piggy bank, turning it so he could see the tiny note, childishly scribbled in crayon, taped to the side. "Chuck," she breathed, an exclamation of a thousand different things but just his name.

He sat clumsily next to her. "What is all this?" he asked, his mind quickly adding up the rolls, estimating there was close to fifty thousand dollars in cash spread out on his bed.

Still unable to speak, she handed him the piggy bank. His eyes misted as he realized he was looking at something from Sarah's childhood. The unevenness of the writing indicated she couldn't have been older than 9 or 10 when she'd written it. Mesmerized, it was the note she handed him that broke his concentration. What was left of his clear vision disappeared as he read it, folded it back together, and pulled her close to his shoulder. His heart soared, even as he felt it breaking, such a strange dichotomy in the moment-feeling both resentment and pride in the same man.

The quiet was disturbed by Sarah's voice, quavering and weak. Chuck found he was holding his breath as she spoke, pulled farther into her life and past then he ever had been allowed. "My parents got divorced when I was still a toddler-two or three. I don't remember them being married. I also don't remember ever living with my mother, either, although I know I did until I was four. My mother got really sick, and my father was out of the picture when it happened. My grandmother-my mother's mother, was my guardian. I lived with her in Idaho until I was nine."

Chuck stayed silently still, afraid any word from his mouth would break the spell. And she definitely wanted, or probably needed to tell him what she was revealing. "My father had visitation rights then...but he was inconsistent. I never knew for sure when I would see him, how long it would be in between visits. And I always helped him, you know, with con jobs. Even that young. I overheard him arguing with my grandmother one day-he was asking her for money and she refused, and she told him to not come back because he was mooching and setting an awful example and just hurting me in the process…" Her voice trembled, but she swallowed hard and continued. "So I grabbed this," she put her hand on the bank in Chuck's hands, "and ran away so he wouldn't go away and I wouldn't see him again."

Chuck thought he knew the rest of that story, and was floored when she continued. "But I fell asleep in his car and I woke up the next morning in my bed in my grandmother's house. And my piggy bank was gone." Sarah heard the soft gasp that he breathed heavily over to hide.

"He came back about three months later...and…" She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Chuck, the reason why my father and I were always on the run, with different aliases, was because he...well, he kidnapped me. He didn't have custody of me. But he ran with me, and I went with him. I only ever wanted to be with him. I didn't understand until I was older what had really happened."

"Oh my God, Sarah," Chuck said aloud, a thousand unanswered questions accumulating in his mind, so many unknowns about her seeming to make sense all at once.

"You know, my photo on milk cartons. Non-custodial parent kidnapping. Most common type in the United States. Only my father got away with it, because I turned 18, and no one ever knew who we really were. There's no statute of limitations on kidnapping, though. Langston Graham took him into custody when I was 17. I joined the CIA to avoid prosecution myself. And to have the federal charges dropped."

"Like blackmail?" he managed to say, a sickness boiling in his stomach suddenly at the thought. He had always wondered what had happened to change her from a normal high school student into a CIA agent. The horrors of the truth made his insides feel full of nails.

"Casey used to tell me, you know, when he knew I was falling for you, he would remind me about the choices we both made. He did that. He never knew I never really had a choice," she whispered.

She felt his hand, reaching up and holding her head against his chest, his thumb brushing lovingly over her cheek. "I would never have met you if it didn't happen the way it happened," she said, suddenly a warm passionate strength in her voice that melted his heart. "I wouldn't change that, even if I could."

"I love you, Sarah," he whispered, and she felt it in her blood, running in her veins, knowing she was who she was now because of that love and nothing else. "You didn't have to tell me all that, but I'm glad you did." The trembling in her shoulders seemed to calm, and he felt her relax against him. "You know, those kinds of kidnappings happen because the parent loves the child they're being kept away from-"

"No, Chuck, it wasn't like that. You're attributing good motives to him again. He, just, you know, he could make more money if he had me with him. All of his cons back then involved me. He had a hard time when he was trying to do it alone," she said, unable to disguise the bitterness under the words.

The truth of her words cut to the center of him, stirring both sadness that she had to live with that knowledge all of her life, and anger that a man who claimed to love her could hurt her so thoroughly as he had and continued to do so even now. He had kept trying, but Sarah was right in the end not to trust him, not to ask anything of him. His own father had left to protect them. But to leave his child, simply because he was afraid to be better? He understood Sarah more, and Jack less.

"That's a lot of money, Sarah," he breathed, scanning it again with his eyes. "You never wanted to take your father's money, you know, because it was stolen and-"

"We can't keep all of this," she insisted, shaking her head gently against his shoulder. "We should donate it, give it to someone who really needs it."

"Your father left this because he knew all of our money was gone. He wanted you to use it to get that back," Chuck insisted.

She tilted her face to look up at him, knowing in her heart the larger family wedding was what he wanted. Just as content to elope or have a small ceremony with just a few people there, it was less about what she wanted. And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to give it back to him, after everything he had done and continued to do to help her in so many ways. She rationalized it, because it was for him, that it was ok, at least a little bit, to keep some for themselves. "Tomorrow, let's figure out what we can still do, now that all that was supposedly booked really wasn't. Then we can donate what's leftover."

XXX

April 20, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

"Chuck, who were you talking to?" Sarah asked as she walked through the door of their apartment.

He had fumbled his cellphone, almost dropping it in a clumsy rush to shut it off. "No one," he said quickly.

"Chuck, you know I'm a spy, right?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, seeing the heat rise up his cheeks from his collar.

He sighed, putting the phone down beside him on the sofa. "Your Dad," he said softly.

Spy or not, he had shocked her, he knew. She pulled back her head, her eyes flying open. "Why were you talking to my father?"

He opened his mouth, not quite able to get the words out. She advanced on him quickly, rapid fire questions being directed at him. "Did he call you? Why? How did he get your number?"

"I gave it to him," Chuck said, exasperated from the grilling. "Before he left. You know, in case he changed his mind."

"He actually called you? For what?" she snapped.

"Sarah, he changed his mind," Chuck said softly, looking up at her, searching her face for some sign of her reaction. "I thanked him for the money, and he said he wants to walk you down the aisle. He said he would do just that. If that was ok. I told him it was. It is, isn't it?" he asked.

She was angry, but behind her eyes something else flickered—hope, or sadness, he wasn't sure. "You really think he'll do it?" she asked. Only then did he realize what he'd seen was both.

"I don't know what his word means to you, Sarah, but he told me he would. He loves you, you know. Maybe not the way you wish he did. But he does," Chuck told her.

She didn't say anything, stood ticking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "I don't know, Chuck," she said warily. "I wouldn't count on it, even if he told you he would. I know him, I know how he operates. I just-"

Chuck jumped to his feet, his sudden movement cutting off her words. "Ok then. Take it with a grain of salt or whatever you want. But can't you just accept it? That he cares? He may not have always seemed like it, but he was always thinking about you, regardless of what he did...or didn't do."

He saw his words affect her, work their way under her armor, softening her face into a smile, though her eyes had misted slightly. She jutted out her bottom jaw slightly, something she seemed to do only when she was discussing her father; it made her appear younger, the young girl who had worshipped him peeking out through the eyes of the woman he had hence disappointed. Nodding only, he knew she wasn't speaking because she was trying to hold herself together. He stood still, though his first instinct was to grab her and hold her.

"Thank you," she said, hoarse with emotion.

"He called me, Sarah," Chuck offered.

"No, Chuck. Thank you...for...trying to fix this," she finished.

His mouth creased into a crooked grin. Unable to resist, she stepped closer and hugged him. He closed his eyes silently over her shoulder, hoping this time, Jack would keep his word.

Chuck vs the Wedding Song

April 21, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Chuck flipped the notebook closed, patting the cover with his hand and dropping the pen down on the tabletop. "Ok, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he said, half kidding, seeing that it had taken the better part of the night to complete what they had set out to do-salvage a real wedding from the remnants of false promises offered by their criminal of a wedding planner. He ran an errant hand through his hair, rustling the perfect smoothness and dragging some locks down over his forehead.

Smiling at his sudden cuteness, with his hair messy, she rose from the table. "Do you want some coffee?" she called.

"Sure," he called back. "I'm glad you did first what you did without the wedding planner, because we would really have been out of luck. We don't have a special forces team of marines to scrounge things from thin air," he chuckled, remembering his sister's second and successful wedding.

"Does everybody in California plan a wedding two years in advance?" she called back from the kitchen.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?' he mumbled. He crossed his arms on the table in front of him, then started stacking the various loose pieces of paper into a neat pile. "The cake is still good, the flowers, the dress, the tuxedos. We move it to Sunday the 16th and we still have the church. The caterer is fine with that too. So long as the church basement is available."

"The minister seemed pretty happy about the donation we were making. I don't think that's going to be a problem, so long as we clean up after ourselves," she said smiling, walking back to the table with Chuck's coffee in her hand.

"I already talked to Morgan. He and Alex have that under control. He said that was part of his wedding gift," Chuck laughed.

"So the only real problem is the band," Sarah said as she sat back down in front of him.

"Don't worry. I'll DJ it myself before I ask Jeffster," he said quickly.

"Oh no," Sarah breathed, setting down her cup harder than necessary. "They were trying to do that for your present! Chuck, we have to do something!"

He put his fist down on the table, opening his hand towards her. "Jeffster is not performing at our wedding. I promise. I will find a DJ. I just don't think we can swing another band in three weeks."

"We had all the music picked out," Sarah lamented. With a DJ, it was suddenly easier, Chuck realized. They were no longer limited to the repertoire of the musicians involved.

"That all still works, though. It'll be fine, I swear." He started flipping through the notebook, flipped it over to a handwritten list they had written months ago for specific songs they were interested in.

Though the page was upside down, Sarah could still read the list over the top of Chuck's forearm. She saw the words at the top of the page, suddenly flashing on a memory she had forgotten. Slightly paler, she sat up straight. "Chuck, not that song," she said in a clipped manner that made him raise his head sharply.

"At Last," he quoted, questioning. "But you loved that song. I…" He stopped, seeing the slightest hint of pain flash in her eyes before she blinked it away.

"Not that song, Chuck," she repeated, offering no other explanation.

"Ok, I'll think of something else," he said quickly, smiling to hide the disappointment he felt. He had played it at the fake Klug wedding, not even thinking, because it was on his mix CD. Sarah and her father had danced to it, touching him sweetly to see. He hadn't thought at the time that he had somehow tainted it for her.

It stayed unspoken, but she felt his forced smile. "What about Nina Simone?" she asked, smiling sweetly, trying to distract him from that topic.

He smiled, knowing he thought of that as their song, playing softly in the background of their lives more times than he could count. "It's a little harder to dance to, but it could work."

"Doesn't the Intersect have all those moves in there? You'll be fine," she laughed. She stood, walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind. He rubbed his hand over hers, gently caressing the softness of her skin.

"Great. So all that's left is the vows. We can do that in three weeks, right?" he asked her.

She was suddenly glad she was standing behind him, so he couldn't see the nervous look on her face. "Of course we can," she said with more confidence than she felt.

His back to her, his face and his stricken look wasn't visible to her either.

May 15, 2011

Westside Medical Center, Los Angeles, California

Chuck set the bag down on the hospital bed next to her. "Everything you need is in here," he said with a huff. He had changed from his army fatigues into jeans and a t-shirt, and his hair was still a little wet, an indication to her he had showered quickly.

"What time is it, Chuck?" Sarah asked him, unsure of how long he had been gone after he had explained everything that happened while she was ill.

"Almost seven," he told her, realizing as he said the words their wedding was only slightly over twelve hours away. Jittery with the same nerves he had felt five days ago, he squashed the feeling down inside. Why was that thought making him nervous? After the last 36 hours, something so minor was flustering him? Only he realized, being out of commission for that period of time, all of the last minute prep for their already hacked together wedding was now undone, with no time left to do any of it.

"Oh my God, we have so much to do-" she said, suddenly feeling the same. She flipped the covers back, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. He was in the process of pulling the bag out of her way when she stumbled, swooning dizzily as she attempted to stand on her feet.

Chuck dropped the bag, reaching for her with both arms to keep her from falling. "Sarah," he admonished gently. "Take it easy. You still could be a little weak." He swallowed hard, adding in a much softer tone, "You almost died."

In his arms, briefly supported completely by him as she struggled to right her feet under her, she let the words soak into her, warming her inside as she had never been before. She recalled again everything Devon had told her about what Chuck had done to save her. Dear God, did she love him. "I know, Chuck, but I'm ok now," she whispered in return, afraid if she spoke any louder she would start crying. Both feet solidly on the ground, she kept one hand on his arm for support as she reached into the bag for the yoga pants and t-shirt he had brought from their apartment for her.

She folded the clothes over her arm, and cautiously walked into the bathroom and shut the door to get dressed. Now with extra space in the bag, he started to take the things hanging on the back of the door and pack them away. On a hanger, her ivory dress hung, tiny droplets of blood splattered in between the folds of fabric. They had gone shopping together to pick out their clothing for the rehearsal dinner, and he remembered how much she had loved it, how beautiful she had looked in it. He only allowed the smallest blip of anger to surface, knowing she had missed the party and now this dress was stained with the horror of that night. Maybe because of how stricken she had been, Sarah didn't remember any of it. But even looking at it now, he felt sick, the memory of her collapsing against him almost too painful to recall-hysterical, reaching for her neck, petrified with fear that she was dying in his arms.

"Chuck, are you ok?" he heard, turning, realizing he had frozen in place, her dress splayed out across his hands.

"Yeah," he said suddenly, folding the dress quickly, hiding the blood stains from her view. Vivian was gone, along with her father, into the world to start fresh somewhere, maybe get back some of the time they had lost. It was only right, only fair. Vivian, as monstrous as her actions had been at the end, was no monster. He still remembered the look in her eyes as he'd left for the plane, sorrow and regret too profound to vocalize. Her light green eyes had misted with tears and she'd thanked him, for offering forgiveness though he owed her none. It's what my father would have done, Vivian, he had told her. He spent his whole life trying to fix this.

And now it was fixed. No matter what now, the most important thing, the only thing that mattered was Sarah. And with a rush of emotion even at the thought of how close he had come to losing her, he realized it always had been. From the day he had first met her and had no idea what the future had in store for him. Every last thing, every decision, every action, had been for her. Morgan had called him a hero-maybe that was true, he admitted to himself. Sarah had pulled that out from inside him. He knew that now better than he ever understood before.

He blinked quickly, resetting his face, smiling at her, beautiful despite her lack of makeup and her messy bun with her unwashed hair. "Let's go home. We have a wedding to get ready for."

The radiant smile he got in return warmed him like sunlight. She sat as he finished packing for her, just the effort to walk and get dressed seeming to have made her tired. Don't worry, Chuck, his sister had told him. Her immune system responded fantastically to the antidote and her organ function is all normal. Her body is just in the process of removing the rest of the toxin from her body. By tomorrow morning, you should see a huge difference. She may still be a little tired. Just get her through the wedding, then you guys have a week to relax and do nothing. Well-you know what I mean.

XXX

May 15, 2011

Nerd Herder 3, somewhere on the highway between Westside Medical and Echo Park

"I'm just tired, Chuck. A good night's rest will work wonders, trust me. Your sister said so," Sarah assured him, resting her head on his shoulder as he drove. He was a comfortable pillow, but it was about more than being tired. Even in the seat beside him, she wasn't close enough to him. She could hear music in the background, seeing the numbers on the dashboard and knowing one of his mix CDs was in the player.

As if coming awake startled, she lifted her head quickly. "Oh, Chuck. Dancing," was all she said, looking over at him. "The Intersect…"

He smiled crookedly, only showing her the side of his teeth. "I know. It wasn't really at the top of my list of concerns before. But you're right." His smile was even wider when he continued, "It's back to the awkward dancer you fell for, right?"

She laughed, eased by his nonchalant attitude. "You danced at your sister's wedding without any extra help, right?"

"Sarah, I just took on the entire CIA without it. Dancing with you in front of 60 people-no big deal. I promise," he told her. Leaving one hand on the wheel, he wrapped the other around her shoulders and held her closer to him. His body took the chill out of the evening air, the sounds of surrounding traffic muddled with her ear against his chest.

She felt her body relax, her focus softly shifting, calmly absorbing the music as it filled the space in the comfortable lull in conversation. She remembered this CD, one he tended to play, left in the Nerd Herder and maybe a little overused, but it had many of his more preferred songs. The song changed, the music familiar but calling her attention to it like it never had before.

Time is going by so much faster that I

I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you

Now I'm wondering why I've kept this bottled inside

So I'm starting to regret not telling all of it to you

Chuck was softly humming, singing the words under his breath as he tapped his hand on the steering wheel. His voice amplified, and by the next line he was singing.

So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know

You're never gonna be alone

From this moment on

If you ever feel like letting go

I won't let you fall

You're never gonna be alone

I'll hold you til the hurt is gone

"Chuck," Sarah breathed, lifting her head slightly from his shoulder. "This." She gestured towards the CD player. The song continued, and he lowered his voice, contemplating her actions.

(And now, as long as I can, I'm holding on with both hands

Cause forever I believe that there's nothing I could need but you)

"What, Sarah?" he asked softly.

(So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know)

"Our wedding song. This is perfect, isn't it?" she asked with a smile.

(You're never gonna be alone

From this moment on)

"Really?" he asked, glancing at her quickly.

(If you ever feel like letting go

I won't let you fall)

"Nickelback?" he asked again.

(When all hope is gone

I know that you can carry on

We're gonna take the world on)

She was listening to the words, feeling like she had never really heard them before though she knew Chuck had played this song multiple times in her presence. Her eyes misted slightly, as she felt in that moment the music was coming from inside her instead of through the speakers in the car.

(I'll hold you til the hurt is gone)

"Every time I hear this song, I'll remember this moment. Just like I do with the Nina Simone song. I can't imagine a better song for us," she affirmed.

(You've gotta live every single day

Like it's the only one

What if tomorrow never comes?

Don't let it slip away

You know it's only just begun)

The words resonated in his head, suddenly taking on a new meaning in the light of the last day, and he listened to it like he never had before.

(Every single day

May be our only one

What if tomorrow never comes?

Tomorrow never comes)

"Ok," he told her, surprised at how breathy his voice sounded, not completely aware how emotional the song was making him. "I'll email the DJ when we get home."

She wrapped her hands around the arm that held her, listening peacefully as the song began to fade out. Chuck was singing again, and she listened.

I'm gonna be there all the way

I won't be missing one more day

I'm gonna be there always

I won't be missing one more day.

XXX

Chuck vs the Vows

May 15, 2011

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

"Morgan, it's almost midnight! I'm getting married in less than twelve hours and I have no vows!" Chuck fretted as he paced back and forth as Morgan sat on the sofa, half awake.

Sarah was tucked in bed at Ellie and Devon's apartment. Clara was back in Mary's care, after a brief foray into Castle to help Chuck with Hartley. The plan had always been for Sarah to stay somewhere else the night before the wedding, so that she could get ready without seeing Chuck on the day. All of the hours lost while she was sick and Chuck was racing to save her had changed the plans slightly. Staying with Ellie had been a compromise-close to him without being in their apartment, and with two doctors should any lingering effects appear after her ordeal. Morgan had volunteered to stay with Chuck, on his last night as a single man.

Morgan had been listening to Chuck panicking for almost an hour, after he had returned from saying goodnight to Sarah, who had been propped up on pillows in the extra room in Ellie's apartment, watching the video from the party that she had missed after being attacked. "Dude, you need to calm down," Morgan sighed, fighting his fatigue as best as he could. The only one who had gotten any sleep in the past 36 hours was Sarah.

He stopped pacing, gesticulating with his hands in front of Morgan. "I heard her vows, Morgan. They floored me. I told her I needed to rewrite mine. I just ran out of time. I can't say what I was going to say after she says what she's going to say."

"Wait a minute. What? Why did you hear her vows?" Morgan asked.

"We were practicing, you know, before," he said limply. "We were nervous, you know, about all those people, and-"

"Hold on, Chuck. Think about this for a minute and stop freaking out. Ok?" Morgan said, leaning forward in the chair for emphasis. "You don't have your vows written in time because you were, oh, I don't know, scouring the globe back and forth with no food or sleep for 36 hours because you were trying to save her life. I think she'll understand, bro."

"I know, Morgan, but it's in front of everyone. I just say nothing?" he asked.

"Dude, everyone who's going to be there tomorrow knows how much you love Sarah. Ok? There's literally nothing you need to say. Nothing you can say that means more than what you did," he finished, pointing his finger at Chuck emphatically.

Chuck was quiet, thinking, a very soft smile on his face slowly replacing his distress. "You think?" he asked softly.

"I know, Chuck," Morgan stated. "For once, you don't need to talk. You already acted it out. She knows it. We all know it."

Chuck's eyes shifted uncomfortably to the floor, embarrassed at the attention. He sat beside his friend, calmer and clearer of head. "Thanks, Buddy," he said with a smile.

"There are, however, a couple of real problems. We can't do anything about it, so I didn't want to add to the stress," he said.

"What, Morgan?" Chuck asked with dread, bracing himself.

"I was supposed to pick up your wedding rings at the jeweler, but instead I was calling Carina and Zondra to get them here a day early, and well, now they're closed. So no rings. But who needs rings? Just get them when you come back from your honeymoon," he offered.

Chuck smiled, his reaction startling, as Morgan had expected more angst than he was getting. His eyes drifting to the partition between the kitchen and the eating area, he knew what was lying next to the tray with their keys in it. "That we have a plan for."

"Good, good," Morgan mumbled.

"Morgan, what's the other problem?" Chuck prodded.

"Uh...Chuck...It's Sarah's Dad," he said hesitantly.

Bristling, anticipating the news, Chuck shifted slightly on his feet. "What, Morgan?"

Looking chagrined, Morgan started. "I still had his contact info, you know, from Ellie and the guest list and all that. You were in Russia." He seemed hesitant to continue.

At Chuck's frustrated and impatient gesture, Morgan blurted out the rest. "I was afraid she was going to die, Chuck. I figured her Dad might want to be informed, you know, if his only daughter was dying."

Several shades paler, Chuck sat down hard beside his friend on the sofa. Morgan saw him shifting his lower jaw inside his mouth, a tell for his emotional state. "He got pretty upset, but he said he was on his way. He asked me where you were, how you were doing."

Chuck looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Morgan continued. "I told him you were saving her life."

Not trying to, Chuck noted. Doing it. Morgan's word choice hinted to him his friend's belief in him, and it touched him. Morgan saw it in his eyes, letting the silence remain for the sake of the moment's intensity. After a few more seconds of quiet, Morgan started talking again. "He didn't say anything for a long time. I thought he'd actually hung up on me. But he said two things. He changed his mind...because he thought he was being selfish. That he would ruin the day by being there. And he would never ruin the most important day of her life."

Chuck nodded, disappointed by understanding at the same time. Jack did love her, of that he was certain. He just showed it in different ways. "What was the other thing?" he asked softly.

"I asked him if he wanted me to call, you know, about how she was doing. He said no, it was ok. That he knew she was going to be ok. Because she had the better man looking out for her now." Morgan took a deep breath. "I guess you know what that means?"

Smiling despite the burning in his eyes, he responded, "I do, Morgan. I do."

XXX

May 16, 2011

First Church of Saints, Pasadena, California

The back of the church was a flutter of activity as John Casey made his way through from a back door, having moved back down an aisle on the side. He had a lot of running back and forth to do today, he thought. Morgan's mother somehow had been volunteered to hand out programs at the door, and had given him a questioning look when she had asked if he was for the bride or groom, and he had answered both.

He noticed Carina and Zondra, standing side by side at the door, while Ellie was gathering bouquets, pointing to position people, and adjusting Sarah's dress all at the same time. Sensing his approach, Ellie waved him over with a hand.

"John, good, you're here," she said, slightly out of breath. "Almost everyone should be seated by now. Devon's walking down with Carina, you are walking Zondra, Morgan's walking me and staying at the altar. Just like rehearsal, right?" Mumbling she added, "I know, rehearsal seems like it was literally five months ago, but it was only two days ago. But now Sarah's walking alone from what I hear," Ellie said, lowering her voice so only Casey could hear. "Jack canceled yesterday."

Late guests were trying to sneak past the crowd, stopping to ooh and ahh as they realized the bride was about to walk down the aisle. Devon made eye contact with Ellie, and ran to seat the stragglers. Ellie moved closer to Casey, whispering so Sarah couldn't hear, "Good job dispersing on Sarah's side. I didn't want it to look like she has no one here."

"Everyone here is here for her, Ellie," Casey told her. "You have Chuck to thank for that, you know," he said softly, smiling as Sarah made eye contact with him.

Surprised by the sentiment coming from him, Ellie smiled genuinely, patting his bicep as she leaned over to redistribute the flowers. "Chuck said you have the rings...or whatever," she asked curiously.

Casey reached into his pocket, pulling out two white twist ties and flashing them in his palm for Ellie to see. As he was tucking them back into his pocket, he could see Sarah look like she was misting up. "No making the bride cry, John," Ellie scolded, then smiled. "How's my brother doing?" Ellie asked.

"Bartowski's cool as a cucumber, believe it or not," Casey quipped. "It's like he wants to get married. Weird, right?"

Ellie just laughed, surprised again that John was cracking jokes. The good mood all around them had been contagious, after everyone who had been at the rehearsal dinner had seen how that had ended. Food poisoning, Morgan had said. Almost everyone knew it had been worse, and worried. But it was truly all better.

He listened as the milling drone of multiple conversations overlaid seemed to quiet, as everyone noticed them. The organ music became structured, and the beginning of the march began filling the air, quieting the voices and leaving behind only beautiful music. Devon hurried back again, and grabbed Carina's arm. Ellie nodded, counted, then motioned quickly for John to take Zondra's arm. He walked slowly, grinning without teeth, feeling the guests turn their heads to watch them walk. Chuck had that same crooked smile on his face he had worn all morning, and he stood tall and straight, not a fidget to be seen. Zondra took her place, and Casey nodded once at Chuck, taking his place behind Devon. Morgan wore his tuxedo, his minister's robe waiting for him draped over the altar.

Morgan tried to be graceful, placing Ellie at the top of the stairs, then turning towards the altar. Chuck watched him hurrying, looking for the arm and head openings in the vestment. Casey saw Chuck almost lurch forward, as if he wanted to help his friend stop fumbling in full view of everyone. Gazing down the aisle, the sunlight beaming through the open door blotted out as the gleaming white of Sarah's dress filled the entryway. Chuck had to have seen it out of the corner of his eye, because Casey saw him turn his head, Morgan's awkward flapping forgotten as the beautiful vision of his bride appeared. Casey saw him pull up his bottom jaw hard, gritting his teeth, to keep it from trembling. Weepy Bartowski again, he thought.

Casey's head twitched ever so slightly, as he looked towards the back of the church, expecting to have a commiserating moment with Walker. Instead, even from that far away, he could see Sarah was overwhelmed. Everyone in the church had turned, staring at her as she stood perfectly still, the pale color of her skin not far from the white of her dress.

Without another thought, Casey spun on his right heel, and hurried away towards the side aisle. Chuck opened his mouth to ask Casey what he was doing, but Casey was gone before Chuck could even get the words out. Spinning his head back, feeling eyes shifting towards him, he saw Morgan with one raised eyebrow, obviously just as stunned that Casey had left.

Slightly out of breath, John hurried back to Sarah. He cut the distance between them with two strides, seeing her center the bouquet in front of her and lift her chin, composed and calm looking. But Casey had known her a long time, just as long as Chuck, when he thought about it. She smiled, but her lips were dry, most likely from nerves. John could see Devon, grabbing the white runner and pulling it forward towards the altar.

Not having seen her since she was released from the hospital, he said gently, "All better, I see." She nodded ever so slightly. He breathed out, smiling widely. "Sarah, you look beautiful." He took her right hand between both of his large, calloused hands and held it.

"Casey, what are you doing?" she asked in a harsh whisper, hearing the music as her cue to begin walking.

He moved her hand up to the crook of his arm, watching as the runner slowly unfurled. "NSAIDS on an empty stomach, Walker. Not a good mix with butterflies, huh?" he grumbled.

Sarah opened her mouth, as if she were going to argue with him, but she stopped, and smiled instead, after a quick burst of laughter.

Far down the aisle, Devon jumped into place, and after a brief pause, the music changed. The rapid fire clanking of 60 people jumping to their feet, followed by every face in the church turning to watch her, started her heart racing. Fortunately, Casey kept her pace, keeping her from moving too quickly.

His hands clasped gently in front of him, Chuck turned his body as she approached. Sarah saw his face, his gleaming smile that wrinkled his nose and brightened his eyes, and everything else in the church disappeared. As she walked, she seemed to float, her feet barely in touch with the ground. As the space between her and Chuck shortened, she could see though he was smiling, he had a gentle sheen of tears over his eyes. It made her own eyes water in return.

Morgan was smiling, a huge goofy grin on his face. "I give this woman, Moron," Casey told him.

"Of course, Casey," Morgan laughed.

Turning to Chuck, Casey pulled Sarah's hand out of his creased elbow, kissing her cheek gently. Before he placed Sarah's hand in Chuck's, he grabbed Chuck's hand and shook it. "Take care-" He stopped himself, huffed out his breath. "Keep taking care of her, Chuck," he said.

"You know I will," he said gently, grasping her hand.

"Your palms aren't sweaty," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

He smiled, and winked, and entwined his fingers with hers. Out of the corner of his mouth, Chuck mumbled quietly to her, "Your Dad wanted the day to be perfect. That's why he didn't come, Sarah. He told Morgan to tell you-it was always for you."

Morgan, hearing the chatter, gave him a glare for talking over his official words. Chuck pressed his lips closed, catching the softness in her eyes, knowing he had gotten through.

After Chuck had kissed her, and the roar of people clapping filled the church, he leaned close to her to ask, "What did Casey say?"

She looked up at Chuck, her husband, she thought with a rush of adrenaline, and then glanced at Casey. "What did you say, Casey?" Chuck asked again, just before the wedding party was due to file out.

Casey smiled, a soft grin, looking at Sarah, but answering Chuck, "To not freak out."