A/N: I'm not saying it's back, I'm just saying with the way my life has gone the past few days I've needed it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck


Chuck stared at the car that somehow managed to occupy four parking spaces at once. It had been months since Lester had returned from Germany, sans Jeff. Whatever in God's name did Lester do to get him kicked out of the country, but Jeff had not?

Chuck decided he was too young to know.

Running Computing In Action had become more of a challenge than Chuck thought, but luckily he had the help of someone who he thought might be smarter than him. Most certainly prettier than him. And above all else, she was the love of his life.

"Admiring my car, or the parking job?" he heard behind him.

"Lester," Chuck said straightening, slowly rolling his neck until it popped and then turning to him. "That is quite the parking job."

"Thank you, Charles," Lester replied looking pleased with himself.

"I assume you did it blindfolded while a crazed ferret clawed at your privates?" Chuck asked. Lester's mouth dropped.

"Charles!" he replied, hurt on his face.

"Do you want to run this company?" Chuck asked, having had enough.

"God no!" Lester nearly whined.

"Then STAY. AWAY!" Chuck told him.

"But," Lester began. Chuck gave him a look. "But," he began again. Chuck crossed his arms and gave him a look. "Fine," he pouted. Lester got in his car, started it, travelled about fifty feet… and the car stalled out.

Chuck slapped his forehead with his hand. It was a manual transmission. Lester was trying to drive a manual. Lester finally got his car out of the parking lot, and Chuck watched him leave, praying he would never come back. Chuck started inside, when he heard horns blaring.

"Idiot probably stalled out again," he muttered, opening the door, and entering.

}o{

A few hours later, he and Sarah had completed their work. He never understood why she always wanted to come to his office, instead of him going to hers. She told him he had the bigger desk, in case the urge ever hit her. It took him a bit to figure that out, but so far, she had never had the urge.

"I heard about Lester this morning," Sarah said. Chuck gave her a tight smile. "Thank you."

"While I would love to get the credit for saying it was all for you, it was for me. It was so for me."

"Well, that's the only time you've been selfish," she told him winking. She started toward the door. "That's a lie actually." Chuck lifted his head quickly, worried. "You haven't told me any good ones lately."

Chuck leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Did I tell you why Morgan is never allowed to babysit for Devon and Ellie?"

"That setup is so weak," Sarah replied, shaking her head. "There are so many reasons why Ellie would never let Morgan babysit."

"True," Chuck admitted. "I guess you think you can do better?"

Sarah grinned, sauntering up to his desk. She leaned down, both hands on his desk. "Did you swallow a magnet? Because you are attractive."

"No, Sarah. Just… no," Chuck said, shaking his head. He leaned back from his keyboard, a sad look on his face. "There's a timing to it. There's… an art."

"You're just mad because I can tell just as bad jokes as you can," she retorted.

"Bad!?"

"I misspoke," Sarah corrected quickly, grinning at Chuck. "I obviously meant amazing."

"Amazing," Chuck replied, nodding at her. He went back to his keyboard.

"So, you're not going to finish telling me the joke?"

Chuck paused and looked up at her. Sitting back again, he continued, "He was at the park, and there was a little girl singing the 'ABC song' out-of-key, and out-of-order."

"Well, depending on her age, that could be no big deal," Sarah pointed out. "If she was in her twenties, though…"

"She was three, Sarah," Chuck told her.

"See, that's important information, Chuck. It's like you don't even care."

"Do you want me to finish this, or not?" She gestured with her hand for him to go on.

"So, she was singing the letters out-of-order, and he yelled, 'You go girl! Sing that re-mix!'" Sarah's bottom lip trembled, and then she looked away. "You're laughing."

"God, that was terrible," Sarah told him. She sighed. "I just feel like you're not giving me your best."

"You can't handle my best," Chuck warned her. "If I did…" he trailed off.

"What?" she asked. Chuck just shrugged. "Honestly, what else could happen? We live together, we're in love-"

"You might propose marriage," Chuck told her.

She snorted. "Do your worst."

"Have a seat," Chuck said.

Sarah sat and gave him a challenging look.

"Last chance," he warned.

"Bring it."

"Some time back, researchers for the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority found over 200 dead crows near greater Boston. There was concern that they may have died from Avian Flu," Chuck began.

"Oh, shit, you're getting serious," She muttered.

"A bird pathologist was brought in," Chuck continued.

"Those exist?" Sarah cut in. Chuck narrowed his eyes. "Right, sorry."

Chuck cleared his throat and continued. "The pathologist examined the remains of all the crows, and, to everyone's relief, confirmed the problem was definitely not Avian Flu."

"Thank God," Sarah muttered.

"However, the pathologist did determine the cause of death appeared to be vehicular impacts."

"That's still a lot of birds," Sarah muttered.

Chuck nodded. "During the detailed analysis, it was noted that varying colors of paint appeared on the bird's beaks and claws. By analyzing these paint residues, it was determined that ninety-eight percent of the crows had been killed by impact with trucks, while only two percent were killed by an impact with a car."

"That's quite a discrepancy," Sarah noted.

"It is," Chuck agreed. "MTA then hired an Ornithological Behaviorist." Chuck paused to see if Sarah was going to say anything. She sat there patiently, waiting for him to continue, fighting a smile. "They were to determine if there was a cause for the disproportionate percentages of truck kills versus car kills."

Chuck turned and went back to his keyboard and began to type.

"You're just gonna leave me hanging here?" Sarah asked.

Chuck turned away from the keyboard and back to her, fighting his own smile. "They very quickly concluded the cause: When crows eat road kill, they always have a look-out crow in a nearby tree to warn of impending danger."

"Fascinating," Sarah said. "What the hell does that have to do with them dying?"

Chuck was fighting to keep a straight face. "They discovered that while all the lookout crows could shout Cah, not a single one could shout Truck."

Sarah shut her eyes, looked away, shook her head, and then turned back to Chuck.

"Damn it," she said and then she burst out laughing. "Marry me, you idiot."

"Okay," Chuck replied.

"I'm serious," she insisted.

"So am I," Chuck countered. "For the love of God, I've dealt with Lester today. I am running his stupid company. This is the best offer I've had all day. As a bonus, I love you, and get to do my favorite thing."

"What's that?" Sarah asked. She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you say it," she said in a low tone. "I have to work the rest of the day."

"Pleasure you," Chuck told her.

She glared at him. Standing, she walked over to the door, slammed it shut, and locked it. She turned back to him.

"We gonna commit some HR violations?"

"You bet your cute ass we are," Sarah said, heading toward him.

"MY FAVORITE!"


A/N: I needed that.