A/N: Honestly, I need this more than anybody else does. 2017 has been a giant stupid dick. And sometimes you just need some good, plotless fluff between your two favorite people.

So here's chapter 4. Hope you all enjoy. :)

He knew she was gone before he even opened his eyes.

They'd fallen back into bed together in the morning light. It had been frenzied, insanely enjoyable, and exhausting. It hadn't taken long for both of them to fall into a deep sleep afterwards.

Her hard, warm body had been pressed into his chest, her skin so soft under his hands as he cradled her, tangled his legs with hers, buried his face in her hair. That had been how he'd fallen asleep.

And when he woke up, he immediately felt her absence. The cool air against his chest and legs, the sheet bunched up at his feet.

Chuck grumbled as he propped himself up on his elbows, running a hand down his face and glancing around the room. Sarah's dress wasn't where he'd remembered them dropping it early this morning when they got back from watching the sunrise. But the hotel robe she'd worn during breakfast was neatly folded and set at the end of the bed. It made him smile tiredly. He could just see her pick it up from the floor where she'd tossed it after breakfast, fold it into a nice little square, and set it there.

And then came the melancholy. She was actually gone this time. She'd woken up and left without saying anything, letting him sleep.

Or maybe she'd done it so that she could avoid an awkward goodbye. He didn't blame her.

Chuck sat up all the way with a grunt and yawned, ruffling his hair with his hands and swinging his legs around to stand up. So many things in his body protested. Between the staying up all night, drinking, fast-walking from the restaurant to the hotel to catch the sunrise, and the multiple bouts of sex, his body was spent.

"Worth it," he muttered through another yawn, stretching his arms above his head and groaning at how good it felt when a billion little things in his body popped.

He pushed the melancholy back and padded into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

There was nothing to be bummed about. Why should he be bummed? The last twenty four hours of his life had been the best twenty four hours of his life. At least that he could remember. There was that one twenty-four-hour party he'd gone to at Stanford, and while he was sure he had the best time ever, he didn't remember it afterwards, so it automatically disqualified the experience from the contest.

He'd never felt this alive.

And it wasn't even that his life was particularly boring and uneventful. It wasn't like he was in some kind of funk or ennui. He had purpose. BarTech was doing some massively important things—or at least, that was his goal. He had goals, dreams, and he was working to achieve them. He had an amazing circle of family and friends. Great employees who respected and worked hard for the company.

His life was pretty damn fantastic, actually. And he knew this. He felt it every day.

And still, he'd never felt this good.

It wasn't just about Scuba Sarah.

He wasn't so silly as to think all of this was just because he'd gone on a really good date. There was more to it than that.

Chuck had taken a big step in conquering his greatest fear.

He'd said a silent but powerful 'FUCK YOU' to the post-traumatic stress disorder he'd dragged around with him for the past ten years. And without even realizing what she was doing, Sarah Walker the scuba instructor had brilliantly and kindly persuaded him to trust in her. The terror of feeling water surrounding him had been eased by the pressure of her hand squeezing his. She'd coaxed him into a cave of wonders. Maybe it was more of a valley of wonders. Nevertheless, he'd never felt so terrified and yet safe at the same time. It was a strange combo.

He felt adrenaline rocket through him even now, as he stood under the jet of the shower.

That had been such a massive leap for him. A huge risk. And it hadn't been to impress the gorgeous scuba instructor. It had been for himself, and possibly for Ellie's bank account, as well. Just a little.

But he had a feeling that he had impressed the gorgeous scuba instructor. He allowed himself this small bit of pride, this swelling of his ego. Sarah Walker probably saw so many people in just a single week while doing her job. There were a lot of people on her boat yesterday. On the daily, she must meet people from all over the world, he thought. And yet, she'd stepped away from the other students, the other clients, customers, whatever they were. She'd sat down next to him, talked to him, and she got him to trust her.

Why she cared in the first place, he had no idea. Scuba Shack Kauai had his money—well, Ellie and Devon's money. Whether he sat on the boat for a few hours or went down to explore with the rest of them shouldn't make any difference. She could've just shrugged, geared up, and gone down to act as guide for another group.

Instead, she leaned against the railing of the boat and she listened to him. She listened to his story with genuine sadness, instead of the pity he was used to. And she'd been so sincere, a little halting, awkward, looking like she really didn't know the best way to respond. It was refreshing.

But why did she try so hard to get him into the water?

Something told him the connection between them was there right in the beginning, and maybe that was why. Maybe they had a lot in common, though he doubted that very much. She was different from him in the most attractive way possible. Or perhaps some unknown link, a strong bond, had been formed without either of them knowing it, for some random reason neither of them could understand fully.

It was the way of the world. The magic of human emotions.

Chuck finished his shower and stepped out onto the rug, snagging his towel and drying off quickly, scrubbing his wet curls, then tying the towel around his waist.

As he crossed the bathroom, his eyes caught sight of the light marks on his back. They were still there. A reminder of that part of the night.

He let out a slow breath and grinned, sauntering proudly into the bedroom to get dressed for the day.

Maybe yesterday's adventure would prove to be a turning point. This whole trip would be a turning point, he thought. For him. For his life.

Adventure was kind of awesome. As were adventurous people.

How many people in the world had experiences like this? People like him who did the same thing every day, only to have someone burst into their life, shake things up a bit, and disappear again, leaving them changed.

Chuck Bartowski didn't like boastful people. He grew tired of the kind of people who had big heads, were full of themselves. And while he liked to give people the benefit of the doubt more often than not, he tended to dislike arrogant and self-important people.

That said, he was brimming with self-confidence. He felt really good about himself, about his life.

His wallet was full, his stomach was full, his heart was full, his soul was full. And a ridiculously stunning woman—easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life, models in magazines included—had willingly spent all of yesterday and all of last night with him. And he dared to think that maybe she had enjoyed it.

There was something a little mysterious about her. And not in that cliché alluring but dangerous way crap movies portrayed women as sometimes.

She was tight-lipped about certain things. If he asked a question she seemed not to want to answer, she cleverly changed the subject, or turned the question around on him. And though he saw what she was doing clear as day, he pretended he didn't. It hadn't seemed necessary. He let her have those boundaries, protect herself. From what, he didn't know.

He didn't feel like he was a threat or dangerous in any way. Though, she couldn't know that after only one date.

There was the fact that she told him she'd moved around a lot. She didn't like being in one place for a long stretch of time. And he wondered if that meant she had a hard time forming bonds with people, having relationships. If that was the case, it was no wonder she didn't relinquish much about herself. He didn't blame her for it.

But he wanted the chance to know more about her, fill in the blanks, learn what made her tick.

It wasn't meant to be, though.

He started getting dressed, dwelling on why he'd never exchanged phone numbers with her. He'd been too busy being with her to think about getting her phone number. Would she even want to give him her phone number? Would it have been too presumptuous to ask?

Wait…

Chuck did a double take as he looked at the nightstand. Yeah, he'd slept past noon and that was a little shocking, but next to the digital clock there was a notepad, and he could see someone had written on it.

He didn't even get his shirt on all the way by the time he reached the nightstand and snatched the notepad from it.

In case you didn't think I was serious about that second date, do you have dinner plans tonight?

He stared at the number beneath.

Chuck Bartowski was sure no other ten numbers had ever made him this happy.

It was a testament to just how much of an impression the scuba instructor had made on her client.

Chuck let out a massively goofy whoop, punched his fist into the air, and flopped onto his bed. He didn't give a rat's ass about whether she might read into how quickly he called her, whether she'd think he was desperate or needy.

He rushed to his phone and picked it up to call her.

Because he hadn't had dinner plans before.

But he did now.

}o{

The knock on his door came earlier than he'd expected it. A half hour earlier, to be exact.

In that extra half hour he thought he'd have, he'd planned on showering after his dip in the pool and answering the door in actual clothes, and not in his swim trunks.

Chuck froze, then looked down at himself. He cursed quietly and looked around. His clothes were in the other room. And she'd just knocked a second time because he'd spent such a long time staring at the door he was sure Sarah Walker stood behind at this moment.

It was fine. She was early. He'd just make apologies.

Sure, it was fine.

And as he whipped open the door, he came face to face with the woman he'd thought he might never see again only a few hours ago, before he'd found her note on the nightstand.

"Hey. Um…" He blushed.

She beamed and very pointedly lowered her gaze to his chest, then lower, and back up again, the grin dimming. She winced. "Too early, huh? Last night I was late, so I thought I'd leave early to make time for traffic and then there was no traffic, which is honestly kind of a miracle. I over-corrected, though, didn't I?"

"No, no. It's okay. I…I was in the pool. Which is why I—I mean, I don't typically answer the door in…" He gestured to himself.

"That puts me at ease. No surprises for the housekeeping staff. Although, admittedly, it wouldn't be the worst surprise ever." Her blue eyes lowered to his chest again. And for the first time, he thanked Devon's pushiness in getting him to weight train with him instead of playing video games with a pissy Morgan Grimes a few nights per week after work.

"Uhhhhhh…" He blushed again. "I don't know how to…respond…to that. How 'bout you just come in and I'll rinse off real quick and get dressed?" He grinned cheesily and she laughed, stepping inside as he opened the door wider for her.

"Really, I am sorry about getting here so early. I'm watching the money I spend on gas right now, otherwise I would've driven in circles around the hotel a few times before I came up." She unzipped her gray hoodie and shrugged it off as he watched, unable to keep his eyes off of her. He really needed to try, though. Because he was being rude.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind. As long as you don't mind chilling on the furniture for, um, for a bit."

Chilling on the furniture? What, was he an alien from another planet doing a really bad job of pretending to be human? What the hell was wrong with his mouth?

His thought process must have shown on his face because she laughed at him and patted his chest, her eyes sweeping over him again, though he didn't notice this time. "Take your time. We don't have reservations or anything, so don't worry."

"Uh, okay. I'll, um, I'll be out in a jif. As they say."

He darted into the other room and rolled his eyes so hard, he practically ended up with a head ache.

It was a little over ten minutes before he emerged wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his maroon hoodie zipped up over the Star Wars logo. He ruffled his hair with a towel and then pushed it back with his hand, knowing for a fact that it would bounce right back again. Didn't stop him from trying.

Sarah was lounging on his couch, her sneakers kicked off and her socked feet propped on the coffee table, tapping away on her phone. He let his eyes slide up her long legs, the black denim capris she wore ending a few inches under her knees.

She quickly swiveled around and put her hands on the back of the couch to face him, pulling her feet down. "You're very observant," she said, her gaze gliding up and down his tall figure.

He felt self-conscious for a second, halting in the middle of the room. "Huh?"

She pushed to her feet and walked around the couch towards him. "I just mean, I showed up in jeans and a sweatshirt, and you noticed and dressed accordingly."

"Yeah, I noticed."

Chuck didn't mean for the extra innuendo to be there, but she picked up on it anyway. Yes, he noticed. Of course he noticed. No straight man with eyeballs that functioned properly wouldn't notice.

Her smirk was at least an amused one.

"Uh, so…so what are we doing?"

"Get your shoes on. We're hopping in my car and we'll go from there."

Chuck lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips dubiously as he sat on the arm of the couch and pulled his socks on. "Go where from there?"

He watched as she twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully, or maybe she was being shy? He didn't know her well enough to be able to really read her.

But what he could read was that she wasn't going to tell him. And he was perfectly fine with that as he slid his Converse on and tied them.

He followed her out of his suite, making sure he had his wallet, keys, and phone. And when her hand bumped into his as they walked into the elevator, he momentarily considered threading his fingers with hers. But he felt a little awkward doing that. He'd only met her yesterday.

So he shoved his hands in his pockets instead, smiling over at her as she pushed the button for the ground floor.

It wasn't until they were sitting in her car and pulling onto the street in front of his hotel that she finally spoke up. "I hope you don't mind not doing the whole fancy dinner thing like last night."

Chuck's eyebrows popped and he quickly spun to look at her. "No! No, uh, no. You're the boss. I mean, you planned all this. Told me to trust you when I called about dinner so … I do. Trust you, I mean. I trust you."

"You ought to, considering what happened yesterday," she said with a grin. He merely blinked at her. She looked at him with a bit of a double take. "You know, the scuba diving. You had no problem trusting me with that, so … I hope you trust me with dinner."

"Oh! Yeah! I mean, I do. For sure. And for the record, I did have problems going in yesterday, but it wasn't that I didn't trust you, it was that I didn't trust … Mother Nature."

She laughed. "Yeah, well, I don't blame you."

"Wait, you-you said no fancy dinner? What exactly are we, um, doing? I mean, I'm game no matter what. I'm stoked. Energized. Ready for adventure."

Her giggle added to the buzz he felt being in her car with her again, watching the wisps of hair that escaped her braid whip about her face in the wind. He clamped his hands together to resist the urge to reach over and push her hair behind her ear. It was a useless gesture, what with the wind, but it was also too intimate of a gesture. And he couldn't let how comfortable he felt with her dictate how he treated this situation.

It was a second date.

God, thank you.

"Well, it's not quite as much of an adventure as we had last night, I assure you. No rooftops, no sneaking alcohol into my old work. More like a picnic on the beach."

"Ooooo! Like a campfire on the sand?"

She giggled again. "No, not quite. It's actually illegal in the state of Hawaii to have fires on the beaches. I mean, people do it. I've done it before with friends, you just have to be seriously careful. Get rid of the debris and make sure the fire is all the way out."

"Destroy the evidence," he said. "Gotcha." Another giggle. He could do this all night.

"All of that said, I'm not opposed to a little fire."

Sarah left it at that as she drove up into the hills above his hotel, weaving through houses that all looked incredibly different. There were none of the cookie cutter model homes he saw in some of the newer suburbs he knew in the greater LA area. Some looked like cabins, others were very modern with big glass windows that looked out over the ocean and flat roofs, decks built into the side of the hill on stilts. Some looked small and homey, others big and grandiose and a little unnecessary. Spanish style, Italian villa, stone, brick, craftsman…and quite a few looked very heavily influenced by Japanese architecture.

When they got to the top of the hill, she made another turn into a street that slanted down again, and they were shrouded in trees for a full minute or so as she slowed down, carefully turning out of the trees and emerging again in front of a small one-story home that looked quiet and lived-in all at once. It had a wooden porch that wrapped around the house, the railings white and newly painted it looked like, a gray front door, a dark brown shingled roof that swooped up to a single point, and plenty of paned windows of various sizes that he could see.

She pulled around down a sloped driveway and stopped the car outside of what looked like a garage that wasn't connected to the main house. This was hers, he realized a bit belatedly. Her house. Where she lived.

"This is it," she chirped, and she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. It was a nervous gesture, he thought. Like she wasn't entirely sure bringing him to her place was a great idea. Probably because of the whole privacy thing.

Or maybe it was because she was worried about what he might think of it?

But she needn't have worried, because so far he was enchanted. Stubby but lovely palm trees lazily curved up from the ground in bunches of two or three around the small property. And he thought he spied a garden through the walkway between the house and the garage. Was she a gardener?

He didn't want to pry, however, so he simply followed Sarah around to the porch.

There were yet more steps from there that led to an even smaller porch where the door was and he mused that he'd never seen a porch on top of a porch before. It was like her porch had two separate levels. He liked it. And as he glanced around the corner, he saw that the house was raised about a foot, probably because the ground beneath it was a little uneven.

Sarah halted in front of her door, her key poised at the lock, and then she lowered it and turned towards him.

"Um, I picked some things up today after I woke up from a long and much needed nap…"

He pointed at her and then gestured to himself in silent commiseration and she hummed in amusement.

"Just please don't judge me if things are a little…er…dusty or something. It's been awhile since I've had time to—"

"No, please. Don't worry on my account. I won't judge even if a cockroach skitters over my foot."

She looked at him a little funny and he swallowed loudly, shaking his head at himself.

"Just…ignore what comes out of my mouth. From now on. And know that I won't judge." He winced and shook his head at himself again as she laughed and unlocked the door.

The inside was as nice as the outside.

That was the only word he could think of. It all just fit her. It wasn't too traditional, nor was it overtly modern. It just felt comfortable. And in spite of her disclaimer, the place was pretty neat and clean.

Of course, his sneakers scraped against the wooden floor by the mat, the tell tale sound of beach sand scratching underfoot. And that, of all things, made him smile.

He'd always imagined people in Hawaii having these bits of sand on the floor around the house. Like they spent all their time on the beach and just couldn't help the sand everywhere. No matter how often they cleaned.

He loved it.

"So…yeah. Uh, this is it."

"Casa de Scuba Sarah." She gave him a flat look that was still amused.

"I love it," he said almost immediately. He turned to her as she slid her gaze over to meet his. "Really. It's super comfy looking. Like a home."

She smiled, obviously pleased. "I still haven't entirely, uh, broken it in."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I mean, it's the first house I've lived in. I've always been in hotel rooms, apartments, never an actual house. But it was a lot cheaper renting this place from Alani than it was finding some apartment somewhere. And she gives me a lot of freedom. She trusts me. And she pretty much leaves me alone, since I'm never late with rent or anything."

"Oh, you rent it?"

"Yeah. She doesn't live on this island anymore. She lives with her son's family on Oahu. Here, follow me," she said, gesturing with a shrug and walking through the living room towards the doorway that he assumed led into the kitchen. "I think she wanted to sell the house, honestly, and maybe if I end up here for an extended period of time, I'll just buy it from her. She's so hands-off, it's almost like I'm the owner anyway."

They stepped into the kitchen together and she went to the stainless steel fridge in the corner. There was a row of hanging dark wood cupboards, a granite counter underneath with more cupboards built into it.

The sink was opposite that, with a large window and lace curtains looking out at the small yard where he saw better evidence of a garden and beyond that, the Pacific Ocean down below. It probably looked closer than it was, but still, it was stunning.

"So…" he said. "If you have a plumbing problem, for instance…"

"I fix it."

"Yourself?" He turned on his heel to stare at her. "On top of all of her other talents, she's also a plumbing guru," he said, teasingly making his voice dreamy.

She laughed and grabbed a large square cooler out of the fridge, setting it on the butcher block behind her. "No, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry to bust your bubble, but I couldn't fix a leak for the life of me. I meant that I pay for it to get fixed. I deal with all of that. I update her about all the goings-ons, obviously. But…it's all on me."

"That's a bummer kinda, isn't it?"

"Not really." She shook her head and went back into the fridge again, pulling a bottle of champagne out. She gave him a bit of an eyebrow waggle as she saw him look at it and he grinned at her.

"It's really not a bummer," she continued. "I like having that kind of independence. I wouldn't want to have to wait for her to make calls and get folks out here. She's got a family and I think she babysits her grandkids most of the time. So…" She shrugged.

"What about decorating? Is that all hers, or yours?"

"It's mine," she chirped, shutting the fridge and going into the freezer above it. She pulled out two champagne flutes and opened the lunch box, sliding them inside carefully. "You have really good timing, because I just recently finished getting things to a place where I feel like this is my own space, you know?"

He nodded. "I get you. But congrats, anyway."

"Congrats?" She looked at him closely, a smile tugging at her lips.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "Sorry. I say that to people who are in their twenties and have a place of their own with…like, autonomy and all that. These are hard times," he finished, giving her a faux serious look.

She laughed and shook her head. "Well, thank you. It's not really like I had a choice, though, so don't give me too much credit."

"You deserve it. Credit, I mean."

Sarah stopped and turned to give him a long look, and then she smiled a bit and closed the distance between them, putting a hand on his cheek. "You don't know me well enough to say that." She leaned up to kiss him slowly, laving the bite he felt at her words, and then she pulled back and said, "But you have no idea how much I appreciate that you said it anyway."

He was reeling a little from the kiss, so he just smiled a bit dopily and nodded.

"I'm just going to grab some stuff from the laundry room. I'll be right back." He nodded again as she smiled and disappeared out of the other door, the wood floors cracking under her footsteps.

She came back a minute later with towels and a large blanket, as well as a large beach bag dangling from her fingers. He rushed to her side to take the brunt of her load from her and she smiled her thanks, grabbing the lunch pail and the champagne. "Hmmmm…"

Chuck watched as she moved to his side and pushed the champagne bottle into the beach bag, along with a bottle opener she grabbed out of a drawer.

"In case someone spots me walking around with a bottle of champagne and tries to bust me."

He chuckled and followed her through the doorway she'd just gone through a few minutes earlier, looking around the small dining room with its dark wood table, and a long surfboard leaning against the opposite wall next to the sliding glass doors that led out onto a small patio with a barbecue and a table and chairs.

Sarah opened the door and gestured him through it. She locked it behind her as she joined him on the patio. The sun was nearly set, though it was a little behind them at the moment. He figured not being able to see the sunset from her house wasn't that much of a drawback, considering she could still see the ocean.

And apparently, it was easy enough for her to walk to the beach from her home since they weren't heading back to the car.

They got down to the beach, which ended up only being a fifteen minute walk through a quiet neighborhood, and they kicked off their shoes and socks, hobbling through the sand to a spot of Sarah's choosing.

Until finally, she seemed to find a good place and she stopped, running her feet back and forth to flatten it out a little and then setting down her load.

Chuck did the same and they laid out the largest towel before Sarah unloaded her bag with their food and drinks.

Within minutes, they were sitting across from each other, each with a wrapped cold cut and cheese sandwich, all the trimmings included, and a large bag of chips along with washed and sliced vegetables in a ziplock.

"Sorry there's no dip…"

Chuck looked up from the bag of vegetables he'd been eyeing and raised his eyebrows at her. "Uh…Oh! No that's—I don't need dip. That's okay." He reached in and grabbed a slice of a red bell pepper, disappearing half of it inside of his mouth and chomping down, munching with a smile.

As he finished it off, he glanced out at the water. "Uh, beautiful out here at this time of the day. Isn't it? What with the, um, the ocean. And whatnot."

His face heated as he felt her blue eyes fasten on him, and the prickle of her gaze against his cheek.

Finally, he turned to look at her. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were amused, even as she reached up to tuck a loose wisp of hair behind her ear with the hand that wasn't holding her sandwich.

They exchanged a look and they both chuckled simultaneously. Chuck watched as she ducked her head, tucking her hair behind her ear again.

"You feel that, then?" he asked shyly, scratching his jaw.

"What? The, erm…bit of…awkwardness?" she asked just as shyly.

"That, yes. Good. Then I'm not the only one. What are we doing?"

She giggled and shook her head. This time it was her turn to break his gaze and look out at the water. "I…don't know. I think we're both just being silly."

"Yeah. Totally. Absolutely," he agreed quickly. "Completely silly."

"I mean, last night was…"

"It was. Exactly."

"What I mean is we just clicked. And it was super natural, you know—"

"Organic."

"I think maybe we need to let go a bit. Relax. Both of us."

"Relax. Definitely."

"And just…You know, take this in and enjmmmff!"

Chuck didn't know what happened. But something had snapped. He could've held back. He could've ignored the urge to kiss Sarah Walker the scuba instructor. He could've let her at least finish her thought.

But he didn't want to.

So instead, he set his half-eaten sandwich down and leaned in to kiss her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek and pull her close. He heard a soft thump and a rustle of paper and then both of her hands were cupping his face.

Her lips were more insistent than he'd been entirely prepared for, but he didn't complain. Instead he reached out and curled an arm around her waist, scooting even closer to her, feeling the heat of her body as she met him halfway and pressed herself into him.

When he felt Sarah's fingers close around the zipper tab on his sweatshirt, beginning to tug it down, he smiled into the kiss, preparing to lower her down against the towel.

And then there was a sudden gust of wind. Sarah hugged him tighter with one arm, but neither of them were prepared for the sand to sweep up into their faces.

They pulled apart, laughing, and Chuck turned his head, coughing and teasingly spitting off to the side. "Yeah, Mother Nature. We get it. Dinner first."

He turned to watch as Sarah giggled, brushing bits of sand off of the front of her shirt.

"That was a little rude of her," she said, smirking. "But understandable. We are on her turf."

Chuck nodded his head once in agreement, then he picked up his sandwich and started munching on it again. "Maybe she should stop making her turf so romantic and there wouldn't be a problem."

Another gust blew past and literally blew a large swath of the towel they sat on up and over his head from behind. Sarah let out a peel of laughter as he sat there, the towel obscuring his face, sandwich in hand. He just continued to chew, swallowing. And then he lifted the sandwich and took another bite out of it, nonchalantly.

Sarah slowly lifted the towel just a bit so that they could meet gazes, laughter in her face and eyes still. "She showed you."

"You aren't wrong," he said flatly, taking another bite out of the sandwich.

She laughed again and moved up onto her knees, pulling the towel off of his head and leaning close to him so that she could reach behind and flatten the towel back onto the sand again. "Maybe I'll just move something onto the corner, in case…" She shifted, her hair tickled his nose as her braid swept around to the front of her. She snagged one of his shoes and then moved back to toss it on the corner of the towel, he assumed to keep the wind from messing with their dinner again.

But she was leaning so close he could smell her shampoo and the soft scent of something…fresh and calming…

And instead of crawling over to sit down again, Sarah pulled her face back just enough for it to be lined up with his.

Wordlessly, she leaned in to kiss him slowly, bringing one hand up to stroke down his jaw. And when she pulled back just a bit, her nose rubbing against his, he breathed, "So what you're saying is you don't care what Mother Nature thinks…?"

She giggled quietly and pecked his lips again. "She just needs to get used to it." She kissed him again, just as slowly but a little more demanding this time.

But she moved back just in time. He'd been close to combusting. A moment later and he would've had her pinned to the ground, towel or not.

Chuck bit his bottom lip and diverted his gaze as she settled back into her seat and started eating again.

He glanced at her over his sandwich, blushing a bit when he pulled back and a piece of ham smacked his chin. He swung it into his mouth and cleared his throat, looking out at the water and hoping she didn't see it. She did, obviously, as she giggled at him.

"Charming." He winced for her benefit and she giggled again. "No, really," she continued. "I take it as a compliment."

"Well, I only eat like a pig when I really like what I'm eating. You should see me at In'N'Out. I'm a downright animal."

There was a long pause. Long enough that he turned to look at her again. "What?" he asked. "Wait. Wait wait." He felt anguish assail him suddenly as he realized what the look on her face meant. "In'N'Out?" She shrugged and shook her head. "Sarah! Really?"

"What is it?"

"It's a masterpiece of a burger, is what it is. Best fries ever. But that burger is just…You've really never heard of In'N'Out, have you?"

"Nope." She blinked.

He narrowed his eyes and then chuckled at himself. "Sorry. That was a purely Californian reaction. It's a staple over there. And if anyone from anywhere else tries to argue that any other burger is better, we will defend it to the death."

She laughed and pursed her lips. "That good, huh?"

"It's really amazing. Seriously. Maybe—" He stopped himself then.

"What?" she prompted.

"Uh, I forget." He chuckled and played it off. And he knew she didn't fall for it for a second, but she was kind and she let him have it.

He hadn't forgotten what he'd been about to say, of course. His filter had just decided to work for once. This was only the second day he'd known this woman, only the second date technically. It would be way too intense, much too serious, for him to say, "Maybe you can come to LA and I'll show you", even offhandedly.

"Honestly, though. Great sandwich you've put together here. Rivals, if not surpasses, the sandwiches I get at Lou's back home. And that's a huge compliment because her sandwiches are magnificent, and I'm also something of a sandwich aficionado, sooo…" He winked and watched as she wrinkled her nose and giggled, looking away.

"S'that so? And who is this Lou who makes you sandwiches?"

Chuck watched closely for any signs of sincere jealousy. And damn it, but he felt foolish for being a bit disappointed when he couldn't pick up on any. There was just humor, teasing.

Just because he was losing his grip on his sanity with this woman, didn't mean she was falling even remotely as hard as he was. And he silently willed himself to take a damn breath, chill a bit, and just enjoy.

"Uh, she owns a sandwich shop near BarTech—er, I mean, my company. And I go there to buy lunch every so often. She even named a sandwich after me. Pretty cool." He grinned at her, deciding not to mention he'd nearly drummed up the courage to ask Lou the sandwich girl out on a date before this vacation.

The flirtation had gotten a little more…noticeable, lately.

He wasn't sure he wanted to ask Lou out now. Maybe that was silly, unrealistic, stupid. But the woman currently sharing this quiet beach with him as the sun neared the horizon…She was unrivaled in…well, everything, frankly.

And he wondered if his love life was forever ruined now that he'd met her.

"Is it called The Nerd?" her voice interrupted his deep thoughts.

He chuckled. "Uh, no. Thanks."

"The Tall Nerd?"

He chuckled harder. "Nope."

"Do you like her?" she asked then.

And he gaped. "W-What? No."

The scuba instructor lowered her chin and gave him a flat look through her eyelashes. "I don't know what's wrong with me that I find your inability to lie so cute."

"I'm not lying. She's … alright." He winced. "That was almost rude. She's a…nice person. Makes great sandwiches."

"She isn't your girlfriend, is she?"

"What? Absolutely not. I'm not that—I wouldn't—I'm not that kind of guy, Sarah. I know you haven't known me longer than two days, but…I guess…I mean, I hope I don't come off as the cheating type. Lou isn't my girlfriend."

"Good." Then she slowly scooted a bit closer, crinkling her empty sandwich wrapper up and tossing it in an empty bag. "Though I have to admit, I'm not all that sure I wouldn't try to wrestle you away from her if she was."

His jaw fell open and his eyebrows shot straight into his hairline just about. "Scuba Sarah, you're a very bad girl."

She giggled and reached up to flatten the hem of his sleeve that had curled up at some point during the night. "I know. Challenging Mother Nature, stealing sandwich girls' men."

The way she bounced her eyebrows at him had Chuck giggling. Not laughing or chuckling… Giggling.

"Well," he said, sobering just a tad, "said sandwich girl doesn't have a man. Actually, I mean, I don't know her status. I looked for a ring once and didn't see one, but she handles food so maybe she takes it off? I dunno."

"Put a lot of thought into it, huh?"

Chuck winced and she laughed good-naturedly.

"Why haven't you asked her out?" He made a face and she leaned over, bumping his arm with hers. "What? Are you uncomfortable having this conversation with me? It's okay, Chuck. You've got a life back in LA and that's okay." She pursed her lips teasingly, raising her eyebrows and he chuckled, shaking his head.

Because he wasn't uncomfortable, weirdly enough. Granted, he found it uncomfortable talking to Ellie about it the one time he slipped and brought Lou up. But that was because she cornered him, pointed her finger in his face, and said, "You ask that girl out or so help me…"

He hadn't asked her out and Ellie hadn't done anything about it.

But this felt different. And…

Oh.

He'd nearly missed it.

He was sure of what he saw, though. There was no mistaking it. There was no misreading it. Even though he found this woman mysterious and a little tight-lipped (compared to him, at least), even though he found her hard to read at times…

She squirmed a bit and gnawed on her lip, looking away from him. And there was something in her eyes…

Sarah the scuba instructor was a little jealous. She had to be. He had to be right. Granted, he'd been wrong often enough. But he was sure about this.

She was jealous.

And in spite of the glowing spot deep inside of his chest, it never occurred to him to milk it for all it was worth. It never occurred to him to make her even more jealous.

Instead, he sought to reassure her, stamp it out.

Without even knowing what he was doing or why, he reached over and took Sarah's hand. "I'm not uncomfortable at all." He curled his fingers around hers and gave a gentle squeeze when her blue eyes swept over to meet his brown ones. "Honestly, she isn't someone I've spent a lot of time thinking about. But she's pretty and makes good sandwiches. She's flirted with me. I've…attempted to flirt back. But she's not…"

He paused, not really knowing how to explain it. And Sarah was mercifully silent as he attempted to iron out his thoughts, make them into words that actually made sense.

"There's no connection there. Maybe that's why I didn't ask her out. Maybe I just knew there wasn't any real bond. …Or maybe I'm just a wimp!"

"You asked me out. And that was after a few hours. Pretty gutsy for a self-proclaimed nerd." She gave his hand a teasing tug and he grinned down at his lap, trying not to blush.

He was unsuccessful.

"Yeah, well…This is different. You're different."

"…Am I?"

"There's connection here." He gestured back and forth between them with his free hand and looked up at her again. He saw the beginnings of a smile on her face and it encouraged him to continue. "Flirting over a sandwich counter was…nice, I guess. A nice…thing…in my day that's usually full of staring at a computer screen, creative team meetings, et cetera. I get to eat a tasty sandwich and attempt to flirt with a pretty girl." He shrugged and her smile widened.

"But thinking about that now, it's kinda meh. Paltry. Insignificant."

"Why now?"

"Uhh…I dunno. Yesterday. Last night. This morning. This right here, right now." He diverted his gaze to her shoulder, realizing he was maybe talking too much now. And to think just a few minutes earlier, his filter had been in tip top shape.

Sarah didn't seem to have a response to that.

He winced a little. "Sorry. Too much?"

"No! No, no. No, it's not. It wasn't, I mean." She tugged his hand again and forced him to meet her piercing blue gaze. "We've got quite the setting here. Hawaii has a sort of magic…feeling…in the air."

"It's not the setting. It's you. Or…" He cleared his throat. "…maybe it's a combination. But mostly you. You're sort of…amazing."

Her smile was quiet as she looked out at the ocean, the breeze picking up the strands of her hair that escaped the hair tie and sweeping it over her face. She pushed it back behind her ear delicately, and then she met his gaze again. "Who taught you how to talk to people like that?"

Chuck wasn't sure how to answer that and it must've shown on his face because she giggled and scooted even closer to him, their shoulders touching.

"Seriously, you have a way with words, Chuck. Very eloquent. And sweet."

"Yeeaah, I'mmmmm the sweetest," he drawled, grinning out at the rolling waves, trying to downplay her words a bit because it was embarrassing him.

"You are, though. Since I met you yesterday, you've said some things to me that were incredibly kind, compliments, things you don't have to say. And I can tell you're saying it to make me feel good. It's worked, too. But it's just so…unnecessary, and therefore, also super thoughtful." She shrugged, looking at him steadily.

"I guess I like the idea of you feeling good."

He looked back at her just as steadily, well aware of the extra meaning in his words, his brain choosing a hell of a time to remind him of his efforts to make her feel good that very morning.

And when Sarah broke his gaze, turning towards the water, her chest rising with a slow, deep breath, there was an unmistakable spot of color on her cheek.

"So the point you're making," she said, clearing her throat quietly, "is that I've made your…thing…with the sandwich girl feel insignificant?"

"In just twenty four hours, you've made it seem silly and inconsequential. Yes." He sent her a long look as she squirmed a bit. "I hope I'm not coming on too strong. Really. I don't want to scare you," he said honestly. "But I guess I'm a little gutsy because I'm on vacation and leaving in a few weeks so why not just freaking go for it, ya know? Annnnnd we got to this point because I complimented your sandwich making abilities. Soooo…"

He chuckled and ducked his chin as he heard her laugh, her fingers squeezing his, arms bumping. And then he felt her head drop to his shoulder, her hair tickling his jaw in the best way. He tilted his own head, nuzzling her with his cheek.

"Something happened," she agreed softly, the breeze carrying her words to him over the sound of the waves rolling up and down the shore. "I don't know what, but let's not analyze it or try to break it down, huh?" She nuzzled his shoulder a bit, scooting as close as possible without climbing directly into his lap.

"You have a deal, Scuba Sarah."

"Oh my God," she groaned, and he laughed again. "Can we just open the champagne? Jesus Christ, Chuck…"

He laughed and watched as she reached into the cooler, handing him the flutes and gingerly taking the chilled bottle out.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Chuck to pop the cork. He sat there struggling with it, trapping the bottle between his legs as he pushed on the cork.

"Need me to do it?" she teased, and he glared a bit at her.

"No. Thanks. I got it."

She shrugged innocently and watched him struggle again, propping her chin on her hand. She was teasing him on purpose, he knew.

It finally popped out, shooting off into the darkness now that the sun was gone and they'd never actually built that small fire Sarah'd said she wouldn't be opposed to while they were driving in the car.

"Oh. Crap." Chuck blinked, and then he handed a giggling Sarah the bottle. "You pour. I'll find."

He could feel her gaze on him as he stumbled up to his feet and hurried across the sand in the same direction the cork flew off in. "Well, this should be super easy yeeaahh," he drawled over his shoulder. "A cork that's literally the exact same color as this sand."

He heard her laugh as he got down on his hands and knees and started coming his fingers through the sand to try to find it. "Shell. Shell. Rock. Shell. Bottle cap! Found a bottle cap."

"You're looking for a cork, Chuck."

"Aw, shit. That's right." He snapped for her benefit and heard a giggle. "You know, for the record, if this were Huntington Beach in California, I would've accidentally touched a used condom by now."

"Eeeewwwww!" She cackled from much nearer behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see she was approaching. She made a gagging sound. "That's seriously disgusting. People leave used condoms on the beach in California?"

"Not everyone. I mean…I've never done that."

"Oh? Well that's comforting."

"Not yet anyway."

He felt her hand shove the back of his head as he laughed and he fell over into the sand in a jumble of limbs. She was grinning down at him, her arms crossed. "Shut up." She shook her head and knelt down next to him, skimming her hands over the sand to help him look for the cork.

As soon as she turned her face away from him, he reached out to give her a gentle push, just enough to throw her off balance. She plopped into the sand with a squeak and her jaw fell open as she looked over at him.

"That Mother Nature again," he said innocently. "She can sneak up on—No! Ah!"

He giggled as Sarah pounced on him, her fingers going for his sides.

Chuck caught her hand and pushed it away, not moving fast enough to get the other one.

He had to suffer through a few seconds of merciless tickling before he was able to get both of her arms pinned behind her back, all of her weight pressing down against him as he lay there in the sand.

"We still have to find that cork," Sarah murmured, her blue eyes looking right down into his brown ones.

"Think they might be able to trace it back to you?"

She giggled. "I wouldn't put it past them. They'd have Mother Nature on their side."

Chuck flipped them over with a grin, pinning her to the sand as she gasped. He caught something out of the corner of his eye as he moved in to kiss her, oh so slowly…Her eyelids fluttered, she craned her neck a little to try to meet him halfway.

And then he pulled back and held up the cork he'd seen in the sand near her shoulder. "Found it."

She narrowed her eyes and burst out laughing, shaking her head as she shoved him off of her. They climbed to their feet, both of them doing their best to shake and slap as much of the sand off of their clothes and skin as possible.

And as they settled back onto the towel to enjoy their champagne in the soft beach breeze, admiring the sliver of moon above them, Chuck sought to slide this night, this moment, into his databank of good memories—the ones he thought of on the bad days, on his worst days, to try to pick himself back up. He was determined not to forget this. He would never forget this.

A/N: There it is. But there's more. This isn't the end by a long shot. I'm going to need this fluffy piece of ultra fluff to keep me from walking into the Pacific Ocean and never returning, so expect to see this and other bits of fluff between Chuck and Sarah. I. NEED. IT. SO. MUCH.

Let me know what y'all think of this. Thanks. :)

-SC