I don't own Chuck

"You know, you do have a room," Chuck heard Ellie say, pulling him out of the haze between wakefulness and sleep. He lifted his head from the arm of the couch and looked up at her, and blinking groggily.

"Sarah's sleeping in my room," Chuck told her. "I didn't want her driving home if she was tired."

"I see," Ellie said, making coffee. She turned around and studied her younger sibling. "So, what's with the guitar and keyboard?" she asked, pointing toward them.

"Sorry, I was practicing, and didn't get everything put up," he said, getting up off the couch. He began to clean up everything he had left when Sarah had begun to cry the night before. "I'm… uh… I'm joining a band."

"You're doing what?" Ellie asked, looking at him like he had lost his mind.

"A band, Ellie," Chuck said, turning back to face her. "It's a damn joke. The band's name is Jeffster."

"Wait… you're telling me those two…" She shuddered. "I can't even finish that sentence," Ellie admitted.

"There was actually an argument about it," Sarah said, coming out of Chuck's room. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop-"

"You're fine," Ellie said, waving off Sarah's worry. "So, what was the other name that was being debated."

Sarah looked at Chuck, and then back to Ellie. "Chuck's Hoes." Ellie blinked. "It was Jeff's idea."

"Oh, God," Ellie muttered. "So how did you get involved with this idea?"

"Morgan pitched the band idea to Jeff and Lester, looking for something for Chuck to do," Sarah said, wincing.

"It was a good idea; it got my mind off of…" Chuck trailed off, looking at Ellie.

"Hell-spawn, devil-harpy, soul-sucking succubus," Ellie began.

"That last one is actually one who has sex with her victims, and while we did, it wasn't that oft… en…" Chuck trailed off, remembering Sarah was in the room.

"Noted," Ellie said, taking a sip of coffee, looking over at a grinning Sarah. "Would you like a cup?" she asked Sarah.

"Yes, please," Sarah replied, still chuckling. "My other part was getting Big Mike to allow them to practice and… have gigs."

"How the hell did you pull that off?" Ellie asked, an impressed look on her face.

"I simply asked him if he thought sales would actually drop, with them not in the store," Sarah said with a shrug. "He admitted that sales might actually go up, if Jeff wasn't there as often."

"He could just fire them," Ellie pointed out.

"No, he can't," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Lester claims… well… that it would be against federal regulations, given who he is."

"And who, exactly, is he?" Ellie asked.

"A creepy pervert?" Chuck offered.

Ellie and Sarah both laughed.

}o{

Chuck had managed to get Sarah out of the apartment without too much probing from Ellie about her, and her past. After she left, he was certain it would take twenty minutes of questioning before Ellie would let him off the hook.

The only thing Ellie said when he returned was, "I like her."

Chuck liked her as well. A lot. But he had meant what he said. He didn't need a girlfriend right now; he didn't need to do that to Sarah. While he admitted they had a connection, it was apparent that she had no interest in dating him. He didn't take it personally. Why would someone as beautiful, kind, and as amazing as her want to date him? She deserved someone that was indisputably perfect for her, and he couldn't be that. Not on his best day.

"Hey, you okay?" he heard Sarah ask, as she approached the garage. The grin on her face matched what he felt in his heart. They both knew this was going to be a colossal disaster, but it would be entertaining.

"I'm fine, but I do have a question," Chuck said, finding courage he didn't know he had. "Doesn't your boyfriend find it a little weird that you're hanging around all of us?"

"Don't have a boyfriend, Chuck," she said with a smirk. "Besides, I'm now the band's manager, getting you booked, and handling other affairs for the band."

"Nice," Chuck replied with a nod. "Your girlfriend is still quite understanding."

Sarah shook her head, snorting. "Chuck, I'm straight, and single."

"How," Chuck blurted out. He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, it's just… well, how? Seriously, how has no one wooed the great Sarah Walker?"

"Maybe I'm not that great, and no one deserves that deficiency?" Sarah replied, shrugging.

"Wait, that doesn't make sense… unless…" Chuck trailed off, and furrowed his brow. He studied her face, and saw vulnerability there.

"I don't know who hurt you, but from what I know about you, and my friends know about you, I'm not sure anyone does deserve you, because you're so amazing."

"You don't know me, Chuck," she said softly.

"Well, you're in trouble," he said with a shrug. She tilted her head, curious. "We're friends… you said it." She giggled at that. "And that mean is I am here for you, and I'm probably going to get to know you, pretty well." She started to say something, but he hurried on. "Sarah, I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can tell me that would stop me from being your friend."

"I wouldn't be too sure," Sarah replied sadly, shaking her head.

"Tell you what: You tell me something terrible you've done; if it doesn't run me off, I'll take you to the best Mexican restaurant in town; and we split the bill, because we're going as friends." He smiled the whole time he said it, and she couldn't help but smile in return, as she found herself slowly twisting as he spoke.

"Chuck," she began.

"No secrets no lies, remember?"

"That was about your ability to play music," she protested. He shrugged. "I don't want to run you off."

"Fine," he said, relenting. "But there's gonna come a day that you will realize you can't run me off."

She snorted. "If that happens, and I tell you, I'll let you pay for dinner."

"Oh, I see. You must be some sort of con woman," he said, teasing. He was messing with his guitar, and didn't notice the mask that slid across her face. "You set me up, and in a few days, you'll tell me so that I'll have to pay. Well played, Sarah Walker." He turned back to her. "Well…. pl… ay… ed." He saw the look on her face. "What did I do? What did I say?"

"Nothing, Chuck," she said, shaking her head, trying her best to pull the mask back up. His hand took hers, and she felt that current again, her eyes quickly finding his.

"I'm sorry," he began. "I obviously did something, and if you don't want, or… or aren't ready to talk about it, I get it. I was just doing what I do, running off at the mouth, oversharing, assuming everyone is like-"

"Hey," she said softly, her hand going to his face to stop him in mid-sentence. "Don't do that. Don't you take this on you. You were just joking around and… okay," she said, lifting her head, and locking eyes with him. "Okay, I'm going to tell you something. It's not the worst thing, but it isa thing."

"Okay," Chuck replied. "You don't-"

"I want to," Sarah insisted. Chuck nodded. "My dad was a conman." Chuck groaned and winced. "See-"

"No, no, that was me being a doofus, and sticking my whole damn leg in my mouth," Chuck said. He desperately wanted to keep her from believing he would think less of her.

"That's it?" Sarah asked, skepticism coloring her features.

"I mean, what more do you want than my acknowledgement that I'm a doofus?" She swatted his shoulder.

"Ahem!" came Lester's voice. "It is time for rehearsal to begin."

"Talk later?" she asked.

"At the restaurant where I'm paying?" he offered. She swatted him again.

"Go," she told him, smiling. He hadn't run. She hadn't told him the worst, and she couldn't. She absolutely couldn't.

She wished she could.

}o{

Rehearsal had gone fine, until during a break when Lester started going on and on about how the front man was the most important part of any band. Chuck couldn't help himself from snorting laughter, and for the last five minutes, Lester had been insisting why he was right.

"What you don't understand, Charles, is that this microphone in my hand… it is a weapon for me to get any girl I want," Lester told Chuck.

"Again, you're co-opting other's work and using it, but I guess to you anything is fair," Chuck retorted. "But, Lester, can you do it without singing a love ballad?"

"No," Lester snorted. "Who could?"

Chuck just shrugged.

"You think you could?"

"No, absolutely not," Chuck told Lester. "Besides, who would I sing it to that we could both agree on?"

"Me," Sarah piped up. His eyes wide, Chuck turned to her. "What? Do you not have a song?"

Chuck was silent for a moment. After what had happened earlier, he wasn't sure this was the best idea. But the look on her face told him she was committed to this. "You have to listen to the words," he said.

"It's fine, I can-"

"Sarah, you'll have to listen to the words, and I can't promise what it will do to you," Chuck told her. His eyes pleaded with her to let this go, but she was looking more determined by the second.

"No love ballads," Lester reminded him.

"Do your worst," Sarah told him, her grin an open challenge.

Chuck nodded, wondering if she had any clue about what was about to happen.

"Sweet Child of Mine, gee-en-are," Chuck said to Lester, spelling out the acronym for the band. Lester nodded. Chuck shooed Lester away, turned to the rest of the band, who nodded to him. Chuck began to play the familiar riff, and the rest of the band joined in. He stepped up to the mic and began to sing.

She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

Now and then when I see her face

She takes me away to that special place

And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry

Whoa, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

Sarah swallowed. His brown orbs had locked with hers, and she felt she might actually break down and cry right there in front of everyone. He was playing the solo, looking right at her, and then he moved back toward the mic.

She's got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of rain

I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place

Where as a child I'd hide

And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by

Whoa, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Whoa whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

She was dumbstruck.

She had heard the words time after time on the radio and when it was played other places, but she had never listened before. And with Chuck singing directly to her, she was feeling her need to protect him from her slipping away. She felt something she had never felt before; a soul-deep need that no one had ever made her feel in her life. He came back to the mic after the short guitar break.

Whoa, yeah

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Whoa, oh, whoa, oh

Sweet love of mine

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Ooh, yeah

Ooh, sweet love of mine

He began to play the solo, lost in the music, his eyes still locked on hers. She felt her knees weaken. She didn't understand; this was subtle, this wasn't overt, this wasn't in her face. But it was all Chuck Bartowski. She was brought back to the moment when Morgan joined in with Chuck for the next part.

Where do we go?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go?

Ooh, oh, where do we go?

Where do we go now?

Oh, where do we go now?

Where do we go? (Sweet child)

Where do we go now?

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay

Where do we go now?

Ah, ah

Where do we go?

Oh, where do we go now?

Oh, where do we go?

Oh, where do we go now?

Where do we go?

Oh, where do we go now?

Now, now, now, now, now, now, now

Sweet child

Sweet child of mine

Chuck played the final note, just staring at her. When he finished, there was a slow mocking clap; Lester.

"Well, Charles, it seems-" he didn't say anything else, as Sarah bolted from the room. "I think this proves that I was right, and why I am the frontman?"

"Absolutely," Chuck said to Lester. "I'm going to take a break and apologize to Sarah for putting her in that spot." Lester watched him walk off after Sarah.

"Amateurs," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Are you sure she wasn't wooed by it?" Jeff asked. Lester gave Jeff a look. "I wanted to kiss him."

"Jeffery," Lester said, leading him away from the others, to talk to him… yet again.

"Sarah," Chuck called after her, finally seeing her outside of the garage.

"That was really good, Chuck. It was-"

"I'm sorry," Chuck said. Sarah looked up at him, using everything she learned in the CIA to keep her mask up, but it was cracking. She wasn't sure there was enough Gorilla Glue and duct tape in LA County to keep it together, if he pressed.

"I shouldn't have done that." He ran his hand through his hair. "I really shouldn't have done that, especially-"

"No," she disagreed. "You tried to tell me, and I thought I could take it. You didn't do anything, Chuck," Sarah replied, shaking her head. "It's just…" She trailed off, not knowing how to put what had just happened into words.

"Come on, Sarah; when someone sings to you, when someone opens themselves up like that, and you listen to those words… it touches your heart." Chuck looked away for a second and then back to Sarah. "That's one of those songs you've heard hundreds of times, but never paid attention to the words. But when someone sings it to you…" He shook his head. "It was dirty pool. I was trying to show Lester up, and I shouldn't have done that to you."

He was silent a moment. "Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything," he said softly. "Plato said that." He chuckled. "Music is so important, and for much of our life it's in the background. We hear a song we know on the radio, or play a certain song when we feel a certain way. It affects our moods, it inspires us, depresses us, and just touches us." He was silent again. "I'm sorry," he said softly, after a bit.

"Please do not apologize for it. No one has ever sung to me before like that, much less a song like that," she admitted. She shook her head. "It was just… powerful?"

"Yeah, music is," Chuck agreed. "And I promise I'll never-"

"Wait, no," Sarah said, cutting in. She took a deep breath. "If you ever find yourself at a gig or a practice and you have to sing, and you need someone to sing to, you're always welcome to use me."

"Are you sure? I-I mean, that's… that's a lot."

"I'm sure," Sarah told him.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'll never sing again with this bunch. Lester sort of put the kibosh on that today, with that little performance afterwards."

She stood there a moment, slowly moved towards him, and kissed him gently on the lips… just a peck. "Thank you, Chuck. That meant everything to me," she said.

"It was absolutely my pleasure," Chuck told her, grinning. "And I know the next song I'm going to serenade you with." She pulled back a bit, an amused expression on her face.

"And what, pray tell, is the name of the next tune you shall sing?"

"Walk the Dinosaur, by Was Not Was," Chuck told her. Confusion covered her face. "Look it up. I have to get back to practice. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," she told him. He nodded, and headed back. She stood there watching him go.

"I'm a damn liar," she muttered to herself. "I'm such a damn liar."

a/n: Today's music includes Sweet Child of Mine by Guns N' Roses