Unfortunately I still don't own Chuck.

Chapter 8

Sarah awoke to pain. Pain in her head, pain in her body, pain in her limbs. She opened her eyes, but the bright lights forced her to close them again. She struggled to contain the moan of pain.

"Sarah?" The voice, a man's, came from her right and she turned her head that way, moaning again as more pain shot through her head and neck.

"Don't move, honey," The voice came again, and with it a hand wrapped gently around her right one. A warm, reassuring hand.

She knew that voice. Or should know it. But whose was it?

"You're going to be OK, baby," the voice came again, and she strained to open her eyes, but she was fading fast. As she drifted off she felt lips on her forehead, a gesture that she had not felt since she'd been a kid. She relaxed into that pleasant feeling.

The next time Sarah awoke, her right hand was wrapped in another one. The pain was still there but she was now conscious of more going on around her. The beep beep of a life support machine. A tube in her arm. Was that snoring coming from her right?

She cracked an eye open. The lights weren't as glaring so she opened both of her eyes. She was in a hospital room. Someone was holding her hand. Not Molly. Not a small feminine hand. A larger hand. A man's hand, she thought.

She tried to move her head to look at whoever was sitting next to her, but an agonizing pain shot through her head. "Owwww!" she moaned.

"Sarah?" the voice came from her right and the hand holding hers changed position. A man leant over her, and she could just make out untidy dark hair, pale face.

"Chuck?" she whispered. Her voice came out hoarse, unused.

"Sarah," he smiled. "Thank God." He paused. "Are you in any pain?"

"Hurts," she managed.

"Where?" he asked, eyes soft.

"Head, body, legs," she replied.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Let me get a nurse."

"Don't…go," she pleaded.

"I won't honey," he reassured her, bending over to brush his lips on her forehead. She remembered the gesture from before. It felt reassuring, comfortable. He leaned behind her, she couldn't see where. She didn't want to try and move her head again.

"Where…'m I?" she managed.

"You're in Toronto General, honey," he replied. "We've been quite worried about you." He sat back down in his chair by her side.

"How…long?" she asked.

"You've been unconscious for four days," he replied quietly.

"Moll-" she flinched.

"Don't worry," he interrupted. "Molly's fine. She called me when the hospital called her, and I hopped on the first plane. I've been staying with her. Carina stayed with her for the first day."

A nurse bustled in. "Oh, Ms Walker, you're awake!" she exclaimed.

"She said she's in pain, Julia," Chuck stated.

"Oh, I'll get a doctor," the nurse replied. "Back in a sec!" And with that she turned around and left the room.

"Wha'…happened?" Sarah wondered.

"As best we can tell a truck hit your cab on the way home from the club. Your driver ran a red light and the truck hit the car side on. You're lucky honey. We all are," Chuck said, subdued. He squeezed her hand. "I can understand that you don't feel lucky just now."

"Me?" she asked, hoping Chuck would understand.

"Not so great I'm afraid," he replied. "Broken leg, ribs, concussion, broken nose." He grinned. "You've got the worst panda eyes!"

She tried to smile, thankful for his humor, as a doctor came into the room. "Ms Walker," the man greeted her. "Welcome back to the land of the living. I'm Dr Anderson. We're just gonna give you a quick check and then I'll sort out something for the pain." He looked across at Chuck.

"I'm gonna call Molly and Carina," Chuck said. "I'll be back after your examination."

She'd rather he'd stayed but she could understand that he'd need to let Molly know she was OK. She squeezed his hand, and he returned the pressure. He leant over to kiss her forehead. "Later," he whispered.

"Hey stranger," Sarah looked up from her examination of the wall in front of her bed. She still wasn't able to read because of the concussion, so she was ever so slightly bored out of her head.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed with great pleasure. Three days after she'd woken up in hospital, she was starting to feel more human. The first day had been tough; fading in and out. On the second she'd managed to stay awake for longer periods. Today she was better still and starting to be able to worry about what she couldn't do.

She couldn't believe that he'd literally dropped his entire life to come here and be here for her and Molly. He looked better than he had when she'd first woken up. He'd looked pale and stressed then. One of the nurses had told her that he'd been alternating between being at the hospital with her and being with Molly and he'd not taken any time for himself. As soon as she was able, she'd read him the riot act and kicked him out of her room to get some him time.

She'd been aided in her endeavors by his sister and her husband. Ellie had come to visit her on the second day after she'd woken up. She had been surprised by how kind and warm Chuck's sister had been, although she guessed she shouldn't have been, given her experiences with Ellie's brother. She had told Ellie of her concern for Chuck, and Ellie had attended to kicking him out to take some time to himself.

Another visitor that she had not expected was Ellie's husband, Devon Woodcomb. Due to their schedules they rarely came at the same time, but Devon had also visited her a number of times and often came to spend his breaks with her. She also found him a kind and caring man, but she had grinned the first time he'd described something as "awesome", and he'd given a self-deprecating smile. "I guess the Chuckster's told you his nickname for me." She had confirmed he had.

The visits by Ellie and Devon certainly kept the hospital staff on their feet. She got the impression the staff already liked Chuck, but the fact that she was a friend to two members of staff ensured that she was being taken care of better than she'd ever been taken care of before. Of course, the only other time she'd been in hospital she'd been a prisoner, so that probably wasn't a surprise.

"How are you doing today, honey?" Chuck asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. She was much more with it than she'd been when she first woke up, but was conscious that her thoughts were still a little confused, almost rambling.

"Better, thanks," she replied as he leant over to kiss her. "Chuck?" she said, and he paused. "It's nice when you kiss my forehead and, don't get me wrong, I love it. But my lips are feeling a bit needy." She gave him a hopeful look.

He immediately changed course. "Far be it from me to disappoint a lady," he proclaimed as he gently kissed her on the lips. She moaned into the contact, enjoying the feel of him intensely, and opening her lips straightaway. The feel of his tongue against hers was even better, and she moaned again, feeling his lips curving upwards.

He broke the kiss all too soon, but she imagined now he'd got the hang of it there'd be more to come! "Sorry," he explained, grimacing, "It was just when I arrived the first time you were intubated and your forehead was about the only exposed, undamaged skin to kiss."

She grimaced. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that," she said. "But thank you for being here."

"It was my pleasure to be here for you," he said. "Are you in any pain?" he added, heading over to his seat and moving it over so he she could easily see him. He reached out for her hand.

"My head's better," she enjoyed the feel of his warm hand in hers. "Leg and ribs are still aching though," she reported.

"Do you want a painkiller?" he asked, looking worried.

"Nah, it's OK," she retorted, touched by his concern. "I just have to hold on for another hour. It's not agony, it's just a dull pain."

"If you're sure?" he queried, looking doubtful. He was so sweet, but she'd heard a lot about opiate addiction and she was happy that she was off the heavy duty painkillers. If being a little uncomfortable for an hour until the next dose was the price she had to pay, then so be it.

"You're sweet," she replied. "Yes, I am." She decided to change the subject. "Did you get Molly off to school OK?"

She couldn't believe that he'd moved into her apartment to take care of Molly. He sat with her at the hospital for most of the day, returned home to receive Molly in the afternoon, got her some dinner, brought her to see Sarah and took her home in the evening after visiting hours. Then he came here in the morning as soon as he could. While Sarah had been unconscious he'd sat with her for most of the night as well, determined that if she woke up, she wouldn't be alone. And, she had to admit to herself, having him there had made a difference. Nobody in her life had ever been there for her in the way he had. She was so grateful to him for what he'd done.

"Yeah," he replied. "She was a little more settled today. She was reassured that you're getting better when we visited last night." He paused. "I don't know if you were aware, but you were quite confused when you first woke up?"

She hadn't been. "Confused?" she asked.

"You were slurring your words a little and repeating yourself a lot," he replied. "And I think you said a few things out loud that you didn't mean to." He grinned.

"What?" she yelped.

"Luckily not when Molly was here," he said, flirting his eyebrow at her.

"Chuck," she said dangerously. "What did I say?"

"You don't scare me Walker," he teased, "There are no knives here and you won't be kickboxing for a while." He grinned, but obviously also decided to put her out of her misery. "It wasn't anything too bad, Sarah. You said I had a sexy ass and that you wanted to run your hands through my hair."

"Thank God," she muttered, pleased it wasn't anything too bad.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, "And that you wondered when I'd go down on you again!"

"No!" she exclaimed, absolutely mortified.

"Yep," he replied, looking around surreptitiously. "And the answer is – as soon as you get out of here. So you better get better soon!"

"Oh God," she moaned, conscious that she was blushing bright red. "I hate you Chuck Bartowski," she groaned.

"I'm hurt," he said facetiously. "Will a kiss make it better?"

She glared at him, before deciding that, in fact, a kiss would make it better. "Spose so," she muttered.

He leaned over her and very carefully kissed her. He had to be very careful because her nose was still very tender. She'd caught it on the side of the bed yesterday and literally screamed, causing him and a nurse to almost break down the door getting back into the room. The doctors had done good work in resetting it, but the break had apparently been bad.

"Mmmm," she hummed as he drew away from her.

"Yes, I can't wait til we can do that more often," he agreed.

"Thank you for being here Chuck," she told him, desperate to convey her feelings. "It means the world to me."

"You're starting to mean the world to me Sarah Walker," he replied, sitting and grasping her hand in a gentle grip. "And this is what we Bartowskis do for people we care about."

Tears had started and she gently reached up to wipe them away. "Thank you anyway," she told him. "No-one ever cared for me this way before."

"Well, get used to it," he told her, bending down to kiss her hand. "Cos you're one of us now. And I'm not intending to let you go."

There was a knock on the doorframe. Julia, one of the nurses, stood there. "Sarah, are you up for a bed bath?" she enquired. The issue had come about because she'd complained to Chuck yesterday about how foul her hair was, and he'd fed that back to the staff.

"Oh, I'll head out for a walk," Chuck said.

"OK, honey," she agreed. "See you later."

"How're you doing, Sarah?" Chuck's voice came from the door and she laid aside the magazine she'd been reading. Finally, she was able to read for more than two minutes without losing track of what she was reading, and she was starting to feel better in herself.

Being more with it though brought with it its own problems.

"OK," she replied, in as upbeat a way as she could manage. Which wasn't very upbeat at all.

"What's up?" he asked. "Are you feeling OK?"

She looked at his worried expression and sighed. "Sorry," she apologized, "I feel fine. Well, better anyway. No, I was just thinking about what all this is going to cost. It's gonna blow me out of the water."

"Oh Sarah," he said, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. She reveled in the contact. "How long have you been worrying about this?"

"Since last night," she replied.

He sighed. "Please don't be angry with me, but I kinda already took some action on this."

"How?" she asked, wondering what he could do about it.

"Well, I don't know what your visa status is or your insurance status?" he said.

"We're not Canadian citizens so we don't get free healthcare. And I don't have insurance for me, only for Molly," she sighed. "It didn't seem worthwhile getting it for me. I regret that now."

He grimaced. "I thought that might be the case." He paused and then looked at her. "Since we know the cab driver was in the wrong because he ran the red light, I had my lawyer write to the cab company about your situation. They tried to give me the run around, but I threatened to take them to court. They don't want that, so we've been negotiating. Bottom line is that we'll get your medical bills paid and we'll get some sort of loss of earnings allowance, but I don't know how much it'll be yet."

She stared at him, stunned. "You'd do that for me?" she asked in a small voice. Who was this guy?

"Of course I would Sarah," he replied as if it was a stupid question. "You're my girlfriend."

"Chuck, thank you doesn't begin to cover it," she gasped. "Please?" she pointed to her lips, and he took the hint, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss.

"It's not a done deal Sarah," he explained as he pulled away, "But I'm pretty sure we'll get you fifty or sixty k to cover your lost earnings while you're laid up. It won't be as much as you were earning, but it should cover the bills."

"Chuck, it's amazing!" She was conscious that she was gushing, but it really was. She was going from likely being down tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars, to being flat, and all because her fantastic boyfriend had set his lawyer on the cab company, something she would never in a thousand years have thought of doing, or even have the wherewithal to do. "Thank you so much."

She reached for him again, and he gave her a sad smile before leaning in to brush his lips against hers. "I'm happy to help," he said, "But sad that you've obviously got so little support that someone doing what feels like the bare minimum is such a big thing for you."

"Chuck, no one's ever gone to bat for us before," she explained.

"Well, get used to it Miss Walker," he replied, "Because you're becoming an important person to us Bartowskis. And it's kind of what we do."

"I could enjoy getting used to that," she murmured. "Thank you."

"OK, Sarah, can you just shuffle over there?" She hated this feeling of being physically incapable. She was grateful to Chuck for driving her back to the apartment from the hospital but hated being confined to a wheelchair even though, according to Ellie, it was normal for someone with her injuries.

The elder Bartowski and her husband had been regular visitors over the past week and had not even been deterred once Sarah had confessed her line of work. Sarah had been worried about what would happen when Ellie found out. There was, after all, quite a stigma associated with strippers.

Chuck had told her that he had not been that nervous, particularly after Ellie had got to know Sarah first, and had got on well with her. He had been a little worried about broaching the subject straight up, but luckily the injury meant that Ellie had got to know Sarah in the hospital as a person, before discovering what her job was. That meant that Sarah's confession of what she'd been doing in a cab at four am hadn't been as impactive as it might have been if she had confessed on a first meeting.

Ellie had been speechless for a few seconds but, given that Chuck was in the room with them when Ellie had finally asked about the cab journey, he had been able to fill in any awkward silence by explaining how Sarah had had to raise money for her mom's treatment and Molly's wellbeing, and that this job was practically the only thing that would cover those costs apart from crime. Chuck had not revealed Sarah's criminal past to Ellie and, for that, Sarah was grateful. As he said later, it was Sarah's choice of how much of her past she revealed to anyone, not Chuck's or anyone else's.

Sarah had been pleased that Ellie and Devon had taken her job in their stride, because she had rapidly grown to like both members of the older couple. Ellie was a force of nature, outspoken but emotionally mature, while Devon, who even though on the outside was a bit of a jock, underneath was extremely warm and kind and, from what she had heard, very good at his job.

Adding Ellie and Devon to her friendship circle had effectively doubled it in the space of a week, and she couldn't believe what meeting Chuck had brought to her life.

Chuck had stepped into the breach in a way she had no right to expect. He had been living at her apartment with Molly while she was in hospital. Molly said he had been fantastic as a kind of father figure for her, helping with homework, giving advice, preparing all her food and doing the cleaning. He had been there for Sarah as well, although as she improved, she had also made sure that he had enough time for himself as well. She knew he had been looking at real estate, because he'd shown her a few sets of particulars, and he often brought his laptop with him when he came to sit with her in the afternoon. She would read and he would tap away on his laptop, catching up with his emails.

Now, finally, she was out of hospital within the promised ten days, but her life didn't look like getting much better fast. She would be confined to bed for the first week, and a wheelchair if she wanted out of bed. Her entire right leg was in plaster and the broken ribs meant that she couldn't handle crutches for now. The docs had told her to protect them for another four weeks. Protecting apparently meant no sex, which hadn't gone down very well with Sarah who, after having gone without for years, was now desperate for sex after only two weeks without!

Chuck had already insisted that he moved to the sofa from her bed, where he'd been staying while she'd been in hospital; he didn't want to take the chance that he might roll over in bed and damage her ribs. Which meant no cuddling either which, in Sarah's view, was nearly as bad as no sex! She'd never had a partner to cuddle with before, but with Chuck she savored it. He'd noted that cuddles were viable during the day when he was fully conscious, just not at night.

He'd insisted on staying in the apartment for a little while as well. She'd told him that she could cope, but he insisted on staying for the first few days to take care of her and make sure she was OK. She was so lucky to have him.

"OK?" Chuck asked as he helped her transfer onto the bed. It had been quite a production, but she assumed that it would become easier as they got used to everything. It would need to be; otherwise it would be difficult to get out of bed to relieve herself, particularly on her own. And she wasn't looking forward to bathing either.

"Yeah," she gasped, leaning back against the pillows that he'd built up against the wall. There were more here than she'd previously had in the house and she wondered where they'd come from? "Thanks Chuck," she told him.

"All part of the Bartowski service," he grinned. "Now, do you want anything?"

"Apart from sex?" she groused.

His face was a picture, and she couldn't help but giggle.

"It's your fault Bartowski!" she told him. "You ruined me. I hadn't had sex for over three years and then you set a totally unreasonable standard and now I can't do without it." She grimaced, "Apart from under doctors' orders apparently."

He grinned. "I'm sorry Sarah, I can offer a cuddle though?"

She flirted a grin. "Sold!" He removed his shoes and gently clambered up onto the bed next to her, sliding his arm behind her back and tucking her shoulder into his armpit. She couldn't quite control the sigh of pleasure which escaped. This was more like it!

"How you doin?" He asked, poking his head around her door.

She sighed. "Chuck, how am I going to manage weeks of this?" she moaned. "I'm bored shitless."

She shouldn't moan at him. He had, after all, been absolutely fantastic, but she needed someone to moan to. She had to maintain a strong façade for Molly lest she worry the younger girl and that left precious few people to moan to! Only a day into her convalescence at home and she was already chafing. Somehow being laid up in hospital was bearable, but being laid up at home was orders of magnitude more difficult; she guessed because you were used to being sick in hospital but not at home.

Still, it was nice to be in her own bed, not woken up at strange hours of the morning by doctors and nurses doing ward rounds. She wasn't a morning person at the best of times, but 6am ward rounds had been crippling for her. She'd historically struggled with getting Molly ready for school but it was just one of those things she needed to do and, actually, it was better on those days she worked than it was on those days she slept right through. She didn't know why that was, but it was.

And then there was the smell. In hospital everything had been crispy clean and hygienic, almost anti-septic in smell. Here there were at least smells. There was the familiar smell of their apartment, the blend of Molly's soccer gear and their body sprays. Added to that now was the smell that she always thought of as Chuck. There was a trace of it in her room where he'd been sleeping, although he'd washed the sheets. She'd rather he hadn't. In the weeks when he'd been away, she'd purposely not washed the sheets to preserve his smell. Having his smell in bed with her made her feel part of something in a way that she hadn't ever really been.

It was one of the reasons she was happy to go into the living area; he'd taken it over for his living quarters and his office. His papers were on the kitchen table, his pillows piled up near the sofa, and his clothes neatly folded in the same place. She reveled in using his pillows to prop herself up, and she'd helped herself to one of his outsized Stanford T-shirts yesterday when he'd been out doing the shopping.

The excitement of being home had worn off quite rapidly however, and now she was stuck. Laid up in bed with only TV to watch, or reading. She wasn't ordinarily a TV watcher. He'd brought her some DVDs and they'd watched a few episodes of Battlestar Galactica last night as a family. It had been fun to sit together and watch; her hand in Chuck's and Molly sitting next to her on the sofa. But DVDs felt like something you watched with people.

She needed something she could do on her own. Normally that was exercise, but exercise was out of the question for some weeks. Apart from the physiotherapist who would come to the apartment three times a week to make sure her muscles weren't atrophying. There would be arm and leg exercises for her unbroken limbs as there had been in hospital and, as her ribs improved, for her core as well. She was worried about her core. She'd built up huge abdominal strength for her job; it had been painful. She didn't want to lose that and have to start all over again. Luckily the docs had appreciated that, and she'd discussed what she'd need to do with her therapist. It would be hard work, but they believed they could manage to keep up her strength.

"Sarah?" he asked, worriedly, interrupting her thoughts. "Are you OK?"

She looked at him questioningly. "You just went into a world of your own. It was like I was talking to myself."

"I'm sorry Chuck," she apologized. "I was just thinking."

"Of important things?" he joked.

"Not really," she confessed. "Although you were part of them."

"Aww, sweet," he exclaimed, bringing his hand from behind his back. "Here, I got you these."

He presented her with an amazingly beautiful arrangement of gardenias and roses. The scent was out of this world. "Sorry they weren't ready yesterday," he explained. "It took them a while to get the gardenias."

"Chuck, it's gorgeous," she exclaimed, reaching out. He placed the arrangement gently into her hand and she brought it up to her nose. "Oh my God", she moaned in pleasure. "Wow, thank you." Nobody else had ever asked what her favorite flower was. He knew she liked roses because of her reaction after he bought her the first bouquet, but he'd actually gone out of his way to ask her about what sort of flowers she liked when she'd been in hospital. She'd bemoaned how difficult it was to get gardenias in Canada, but he'd apparently managed it.

Last night he'd cooked burgers and fries with extra pickles, with chocolate pudding because she'd told him it was her favorite meal. He really was a special man.

"I love you," she told him. He had been fantastic while she was injured, and now seemed to be stepping further up to the plate now she was out of hospital.

"I'm rather pleased at that," he observed jauntily, "Because I'm head over heels in love with you Sarah Walker."

Their kiss was interrupted sometime later by the sounds of Molly opening the apartment door.

"Sarah?" he asked, obviously trying to attract her attention. She looked up from her reading. After three days at home they were starting to establish a rhythm, although all that was likely to change tomorrow because Chuck was moving out. He'd found a temporary apartment for the next few weeks; he'd shown her the pictures and it looked amazing. She couldn't wait to see it for real.

She looked at him. His voice sounded a bit nervous. "Everything OK Chuck?" she asked.

He smiled. "Yeah, it's just I've been thinking about your problem." Sure, being stuck in the apartment and not being able to do anything. She was all caught up for her course and in fact way ahead of where she needed to be, and going ever so slightly mad with boredom.

"One of my new colleagues, Doreen, is going on maternity leave," he started. "She does sales for the educational products at Carmichael." His takeover of the Canadian entity had been completed and the entire company was now called Carmichael Industries. "We're gonna have a gap and I wondered if you'd like to fill in for her?" he looked nervous and quickly hurried on. "The reason I thought of you is that it's mostly calls, sometimes an email or two, and it's flexible. You can work when you want and from wherever you want. When you're tired, you can just take a break. We'd provide a cell phone and a laptop, and we'd also pay to upgrade your broadband in the apartment." He paused. "What do you think?"

She just looked at him.

"I'm not trying to force you to work," he rambled. "We'd pay you, obviously. I mean the going rate for sales is shit but the commission structure is really generous. I just thought it would give you something to do and it would be good work experience for you for your course."

She smiled at him, letting him off the hook. "Thanks Chuck," she said. "That's a kind offer and I really appreciate it. How much is the commission?"

He flirted a smile. "For you, my lady, twenty percent. We pay a little more for high level or successful salespeople, so it could go up if you like the job, but twenty percent is our starting level."

She knew that some of the corporate education solutions they sold could go for up to ten thousand dollars a year, so twenty percent comms could be lucrative if she delivered. Probably not as lucrative as stripping but a good way to earn money. "But I don't really have experience of sales?" she asked.

"Sarah, you really do," he said. "In business, we talk about transferable skills. Try and think about the club. You're a saleswoman, yeah. You're selling your product – you – to your clients. And you do that in seconds or minutes, by talking to them, understanding what makes them tick, and pushing them for the sell." They'd talked about the psychology of stripping many times over the weeks and months they'd known each other.

"But that's different Chuck," she objected. "They can see the product in front of them."

"Not really," he disagreed. "Did you or did you not tell me that you did better after we were dating? You didn't get more hot then," he grinned. "After all, that would be impossible!" He carried on as she blushed. "You just got more confident Sarah."

She controlled her blush and genuinely thought about what he was saying. He did have a point.

"And also," and he paused again. "I want you to think about the psychology of sales. You're trying to persuade someone to do something. You've already got a grounding in that from when you were young. This time you're using your skills legally though!" He reached out for her hand. "I'm not trying to be flippant, Sarah, but I honestly think you could be good at this. I understand you're used to seeing people, but you're also used to listening to them as well. I bet you can get a lot more out of listening than most people can."

He paused. "The other really important thing in sales Sarah, is knowing when to walk away," he looked her in the eyes. "You've told me you know when to do that in the club. That's the thing about being a truly effective salesperson; not putting lots of effort into someone who won't buy. If you can focus your efforts on people who will buy, you'll increase your returns."

She looked at him thoughtfully. This was Chuck the CEO she was seeing here. Not so much Chuck the boyfriend. This Chuck was a good communicator, a good salesman and still warm and empathic. Almost for the first time she thought about what went into making a successful company. This Chuck was putting things into context for her in a way no-one had ever really done in her life. He was explaining what she could bring to the job, not what the job would do for her. She was starting to understand why Carmichael Industries was so successful. It wasn't just because Chuck was a smart guy, it was also because he was a good boss who cared about his people. That may very well be a first in her experience.

"OK," she said. "I'll give it a shot. I don't know how good I'll be, but I'll try. Anything's gotta be better than sitting here going mad!"

"That's my girl!" he exclaimed, leaning in for a gentle hug. "And, newsflash, I think you'll be great at this, so I don't want to hear you doing yourself down Miss Walker!"

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