A/N: For everyone reviewing, PMing, and everything else, there is no swerve coming at the end. The show was all a dream.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
She walked over to the chair beside the bed and sat down in it, a knowing smile on her face. "Do you do that a lot, freak out? I would ask if you talk to yourself often, but I kinda believe you do, since you went and dreamed five whole years."
"I do, when something big is going on," Chuck blurted out.
"How do you know that our talking is big?" Sarah inquired.
He couldn't help but chuckle. "Have you ever known of four more terrifying words thanWe need to talk?" Sarah began to chuckle. "I mean, who comes up to someone and says, 'Hey, we need to talk,' and then the next words out of their mouth are, 'I got you a taco pizza.'"
"Taco pizza?" Sarah asked.
"I mean, think about it… what can be a more perfect food? We have tacos, and then we have pizza. Add them together…TACO PIZZA!"
"Sir, you are in a hospital, and people are sick. Please try and respect that," Sarah gently chided him, grinning. "So, the sauce…"
"Oh, a form of taco sauce," Chuck told her. "But you have to make sure it's not too hot, because some people can't stand the heat."
"No, some people can't," Sarah agreed, not sure when she had enjoyed herself more. "But you do need some heat, or… it's just not worth it, right?"
"Oh, absolutely," Chuck agreed. "You have to find that oh so perfect, yet tiny, window in which you are both sweating just a little bit, but at the same time enjoying what is happening, all while waiting anxiously for what's next."
"We still talking taco pizza?"
"I am. I cannot, however, speak for you," Chuck told her. There was a familiarity there, but it wasn't the same. It was different, and dare he say… better. There was a spark here that he knew, but that he didn't. He kept thinking about what Morgan had said, about him having to figure it out for himself.
"So, you prefer taco pizza over Mexican food?" Sarah asked.
"Oh, that's a tough one," Chuck admitted. "I think taco pizza is a food that might be for a single individual, or if it's more than one person, you really must know them… trust them. Mexican food is usually safe when dealing with someone you don't completely know… and, when it's someone you know well. Is this making any sense?"
"It actually is," Sarah admitted.
"I need to ask you two questions, and they may seem odd but…" Chuck trailed off.
"You can ask me anything," Sarah told him. "Now, if it's inappropriate, I won't slap you right now, because I've gone to great lengths to put your head back together… literally."
"I may not ask one of them, then," Chuck muttered to himself.
Sarah sat forward in her chair, amused and intrigued. "Well, now I have to know what it is."
"Wait, you said you won't slap me now… does that mean you might reserve the right to that slap, and use it at a later time?" Sarah had placed her elbow on her knee, and was resting her chin on her knuckles. She responded by slightly lowering her head, her grin growing. "Fine, it will give me time to plan my escape, if it is inappropriate."
"Chuck you can't run from me," Sarah told him. Chuck felt his eyes go wide, remembering the talk on the dream beach five days/years ago. "I literally know where you live."
"No, you know where I'm staying," Chuck gently corrected her. "I have my own house. It's got a red door and a white… picket… son of a …" He shook his head.
"You okay?" Sarah asked, concerned.
"Yeah," Chuck said, gently shaking his head and then wincing at the action. "I gotta quit doing that."
"Please don't damage your head," Sarah asked him, taking his hand. "I don't want to have to go back into your brain… or for someone else to have to."
"Why would someone else have to?"
She winced. "Tell you what, you ask me your two questions, and then we'll discuss that, okay?"
"Fine… first, and God, this is going to sound weird." He paused. "I'm going with an easy one first. Do you like vegetarian pizza with no olives?"
"What? No," Sarah said shaking her head. "I mean, I'd eat it, but… it's not my first choice." She had a thoughtful look. "Where have I heard about that lately?"
Chuck watched her think, the adorable way she scrunched her nose. He blurted out the next part without thinking. "Do you by chance have a spastic colon? I mean, I don't think you do, but… you know what, never mind."
Sarah stared at him. "Okay, so when you were in here, Ronnie, the tech, was telling me that he was surprised the pizza he ordered still set off his spastic colon. When I asked him what he ordered, he told me a vegetarian with no green olives." Chuck's eyes went wide. "I know there's cheese, and the dough, and the sauce. And even the vegetables, if they're in oil, that can set it off."
"Oh, God, I'm never gonna figure out what's real," Chuck muttered.
"Hey, hey," Sarah said, reaching over, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Yes, you will. And don't forget you've got people. You've got Ellie, and me…" She trailed off. "That is, if you want me…"
"Why would I not want you as my doctor?" Chuck asked.
"Because I'm compromised, Chuck," Sarah said. Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. "I am, Chuck."
"No, it's not that, it's just… that's not the first time you and I have been almost separated because someone thinks you're compromised." Chuck realized she had no idea what he was talking about. He opened his eyes, and turned to look at her. Their eyes locked, and he didn't know how, but he knew that she knew.
"Molly told me everything, Chuck," Sarah said softly. Chuck looked horrified. "Hey, it's fine. You can't control your brain, and besides… I like the fact you thought I was your protector." She grinned shyly. "In fact, it might be true. I felt like your protector."
"Is it my mom saying you're compromised?" Chuck asked.
"No, it's me, Chuck," Sarah told him. "Chuck… I like you."
"That's my line," Chuck replied. Sarah shook her head and laughed.
"I came over that night to meet you, to see about a date, and what happened next resulted in me becoming your protector. And while that was fine then, now… now I think it's not." She cleared her throat. "So, there's a few things you should know before we go any further. Are you ready?"
"I am," Chuck nodded.
"My name is not Sarah Bartowski. I am Dr. Sarah Walker. But my friends just call me Sarah, and I hope that you will, too. I do like Mexican, and I hope to find someone who will let me try a taco pizza with them. But it has to have the right heat in the sauce."
"The heat is very important," Chuck agreed. "There's something you should know about me." Sarah nodded. "I am having a hard time figuring out who I am. What I think I want versus what I think I deserve versus what I actually want, and that was true before the accident."
"Well, I think that's true of a lot of people," Sarah said with a shrug. "We go through life thinking what we should do, instead of what we want to do."
"Yeah, but the weird thing is, in my career, I had no problem telling people no, like my mom and dad. But in my personal life…" He blew out a frustrated breath. "Can I be honest with you?" he asked softly. Sarah nodded. "Everything with you… there… felt right. And-and, I want to say I've never felt that before. But I don't know. I don't know how to compare feelings from a dream or coma, or whatever the hell that was, to real feelings."
Sarah was quiet for a minute. "Are you trying to say you're afraid you'll hurt me?" Chuck nodded. "Would you do it on purpose?" Chuck shook his head. Sarah couldn't help but grin. "Chuck, would you like to go out with me? Not do you think you should, but would you like to?"
"I would, but I have a feeling going out may not be the easiest for me for a while."
"Well, yes," Sarah agreed, chuckling. "But if that's what you want, then I can't be your doctor."
"Okay, so who is… Oh God, is her name Forrest?"
"No," Sarah said, shaking her head. "I don't know any doctors named Forrest."
"Thank God," Chuck said, blowing out a breath.
"No, the doctor I'm going to suggest, that I have talked to Ellie about, by the way," Sarah began.
"Smart," Chuck agreed. "If she didn't agree, it could be bad."
"Yup," Sarah said. "Her name is Dr. Zondra Rizzo." Chuck turned to her, his eyes wide. "Do you know her?"
"Did she used to be your friend and you two had a falling out?" Sarah's eyes went wide with that.
}o{
Chuck sat outside, Casey sitting there with him. The two soaked in the sun, in complete silence. "This is where Roan would say you're in your ladyfeelings too loud," Casey commented, never looking at Chuck.
"How'd Gertrude help you, Casey?" Chuck asked. He felt a bond with the bigger man. He didn't know if it was from Casey saving Chuck's life, the dream, or a combination of the two. But for some reason, he trusted Casey.
Sarah had to leave shortly after Chuck's revelation. There had been an emergency that required her expertise. "She just let me talk about it, she let me get it all out… work it all out." Casey grunted a laugh. "Roan would have hated it."
"Then that won't work," Chuck said softly.
"What won't work?"
"It doesn't-"
"Bartowski," Casey growled in a familiar tone Chuck had heard more than once… at least he thought he had… in a dream… coma… gah!
"How do I talk to someone about a life that doesn't exist, when they are featured in it?" Chuck blurted out automatically, in response to Casey's demand. He felt Casey staring at him. "Yeah, I know."
Casey was silent for a moment. "I would think that if someone is interested in you… if they care… they'd be willing to take that journey."
"She doesn't even really know me," Chuck said with a shrug. "Hell, I'm not sure I know me."
"Casey, Chuck," he heard her voice. They both glanced over to find Sarah walking towards them. "Sorry about earlier. Casey, do you mind if I take him back to his room? I didn't get to finish talking to him earlier."
"Not at all," Casey said standing up. "I hope he listens." Casey gave Chuck a significant look, and took off.
"So, are you okay with Dr. Rizzo becoming your head doctor?"
"If you are, I am," Chuck replied.
She came around beside him and squatted down, looking him in the eye. "Talk to me, Chuck."
"God, you sound so much like her," Chuck said, frustrated. "And it's not fair to you."
"How's it fair to you?" she countered. Chuck blinked. "Yeah, you hadn't thought about that, have you?" Chuck didn't know what to say. "All I've heard about is Chuck this, and Chuck that, and when I finally…finally get up the nerve to go see him-"
"The nerve? To see me?" Chuck asked, stunned.
"Chuck, you're kind of a big deal," Sarah told him. "The kids in Oncology rave about you."
"It's a video game system," he said shrugging.
"It's more than that," she told him, looking him in the eye. "You're a nice guy, a good guy, and I work a crazy schedule. What nice, good, well-to-do guy would want to deal with that?"
"I would think any guy in his right mind would," Chuck insisted.
She tilted her head. "Okay, so two questions, then. One, do you? And two, are you in your right mind?"
"One, yes," Chuck replied. He grinned. "Two, I have no idea. The last person who was messing with my mind was, literally, you."
She grinned, and stood. "So, let's take you to meet Dr. Rizzo. I'll still stop by and visit, if that's okay."
"It would be amazing," Chuck said.
"And, when you feel like it, maybe we go on a date."
"How about we take out the maybe on that sentence."
"I like you, Chuck," Sarah told him.
"I like you, Sarah… Dr. Sarah Walker."
"Call me Sarah, all my friends do," she said in a low voice, leaning down as she pushed him.
A chill went up his spine from it.
A/N: Next time:
"So we all have intuition," Sarah told him. "Some of us listen to it more than others. And, there is science behind it, to the point the US Office of Naval Research call it our, 'spidey-sense'."
"I feel like you're trying to flirt with me," Chuck said. His eyes went wide and he clamped his mouth shut. Sarah was laughing. "God, I just can't shut up around you."
"Well, maybe it's your intuition, that you can trust me," Sarah said warmly.
*Squints at dialog* Orrrr…hear me out, Chuck….she's trying to flirt with you.
