I don't own Chuck

"The Anderson Brothers," Chuck heard Bryce's voice say on the recording. "The player, and the serious businessman. The two wealthy brothers that were turning the underworld on it's head." Chuck wondered how long Bryce had been making the recordings, and when. It was obvious he made them as he went along, and not only that, he seemed to have no worry Chuck would ever find them.

"It was perfect, I'd seduce someone's wife, and while I was banging the shit out of her, Chuck would use the intel to steal what we needed, or kill who needed to be killed, or just do whatever needed to be done." He could hear the pride in Bryce's voice. Bryce always told him he would never sleep with a mark unless he absolutely had to. Another lie.

"The best part, everyone thought it was all Bartowski doing everything. I was the invisible hand pointing him where I needed him." Chuck shut his eyes and couldn't stop the memories

}o{

"So you're seriously not sleeping with her?" Chuck asked, the two of them at a cafe.

"No," Bryce said, shaking his head and smiling. "I give her the knockout juice, she wakes up, feeling amazing and thinks we did." He shrugged, looking extremely proud of himself. "Now, are you sure you can do this? He's runs that sweat shop, working kids to death."

"I got this," Chuck promised. "You'll keep her busy so she won't be anywhere near him?" Bryce gave a lecherous grin. "Right, don't know why I asked," Chuck said, shaking his head and grinning.

}o{

Chuck turned off the recording and began to search his victim from that night. After some time, he sat back in his chair, confused. The man he killed had run sweat shops. Many kids had been killed or hurt working there.

"There's something to this kids thing," he muttered to himself.

"Stand up," he heard from the doorway. He turned in his chair, his eyes a little wide, to see Sarah standing there, leaning against the door frame. "Come on."

He began to stand, unsure of what was going on. "Did I do something?"

"Yes, you have a certain amount of hugs you need to get in daily," Sarah reminded him, grinning at him.

"Sarah," he began, and then saw the look on her face. She beckoned him to her and he acquiesced. He walked across the floor to her, and she pulled him tight against her, burying her head under his chin. He swore he heard a contented sigh. "Are you getting enough hugs?"

She pulled away, and gave him a look. "If you want me to hug you more, you can always just hug me."

"I feel like I would need permission," he replied, not sure why every time around her he felt like he could be silly and it not only was okay, but she enjoyed it. "You don't just hug someone."

"You can me," she said shrugging. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some hugging to catch up on." She pulled him in tight, and this time, he knew he heard a content sigh. The thing was, it had come out of him.

}o{

"Chuck, I'm not a mole!" Jill insisted. She had fallen down as he stood over her, the gun aimed at her.

"Then what about your uncle?"

"He's done some shady stuff, sure, but I know nothing about this stuff you're talking about, you have to believe me," Jill pleaded. "Chuck, I love you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"JILL!" he screamed, sitting up straight in bed. His heart was racing, he was covered in sweat, and suddenly the door swung open. He was nearly tackled by a blond blur. Her arms went around him and for just a second, just for one second, he forgot the pain of killing the woman he loved. He forgot the pain of killing the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. "Damn it," he swore softly, tears spilling from his face.

Her grip tightened around him. "I want to kill that sonofabitch myself for what he did to you."

"I'm the one that killed Jill," Chuck muttered.

"Yeah, and he left you alive, knowing what finding that recording would do to you," Sarah told him. Chuck nodded. He was absolutely exhausted. The sleep he did get was nearly worthless, given he was dreaming about the worst day of his life. "Okay, scoot over," she told him.

He looked at her, and started to argue when he saw the look on her face. He scooted over and she got into the bed beside him. "Sarah," he began.

"Hush," she told him. "I'm not seducing you, I'm not using you, I'm just going to lay here, your head on my shoulder, so you know you have someone in your corner, you know the way Ellie said about hugs?" Chuck started to tell her he didn't think it worked that way, but at this point, he was so tired he really didn't care.

He laid his head on her shoulder, and she gently threaded her fingers through his hair. "I hate this," he muttered.

"I know you do," Sarah told him. Her fingers kept gently working her way through his hair. "Forced to lay against me, having your curls played with, it's absolute hell." He snorted at that and she giggled.

"I mean I don't find you completely repulsive," Chuck admitted.

"Stop the gushing, you're gonna make me blush," Sarah told him.

"Did I tell you I found something weird about Bryce?"

"Let's don't talk about Bryce," Sarah said placing her lips to his head and gently kissing him. "Let's talk about something more pleasant."

"Nuclear waste?" Chuck offered.

"See, that's good," Sarah told him. "If I had a third arm from the radiation I could use it to help me play with your curls."

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to fall asleep."

"I know," she said softly, placing another kiss on his head. He didn't respond, and a few seconds later she heard his breathing change. "I got you, Chuck. I got you."