Chuck vs The Journey

by JohnnyRayChandlett

AU story acknowledging canon until "Chuck Versus the Seduction" and going straight AU from there. When they embark on a new mission, old wounds are opened, and Sarah is confronted with her past, threatening to destroy every chance for a life with Chuck. The quest to heal these wounds takes them on a wild emotional rollercoaster ride that they can master only together. CHARAH.

26. Sarah vs A New Dawn

A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: Sympathizing with Sarah while seeing her wrecked by a panic attack caused by the one weak spot in her life (which, as we can guess by now, is practically all of her past), those two still made it safely to the next morn. I certainly hope our poor super-agent will get a respite now, or else I will be writing a sharply-worded review, and lemme tell ya, I ain't gonna mince my words, no mister. That beta-reader will be hearing from me, too, if he allows Sarah to be tortured with another angsty chapter. Treating our favorite gal like that, what the…!

A/N (2) I don't own Chuck. I'm not making any money from this.

Birds flying high,
You know how I feel.
Sun in the sky,
You know how I feel.
Breeze driftin' on by
You know how I feel.
It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good.
Stars when you shine,
You know how I feel.
Scent of the pine,
You know how I feel
Oh, freedom is mine
And I know how I feel.
It's a new dawn,
It's a new day,
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good.
"Feeling Good" (Leslie Bricusse & Anthony Newley)

Chapter 26: Sarah vs. A New Dawn

Sarah woke up with the dawn and felt as light as a feather. Before she noticed anything else, she realized that Chuck was still holding her in his arms.

So he kept his promise.

It occurred to her that she half came to herself several times during the night. Every time, his warmth was there, or his soothing voice, his caring hands, his lips on her forehead. Once, she perceived that his head had sunk down, and he faintly snored against her shoulder. It had touched her in a now-familiar way - it was so good to have Chuck Bartowski around, as his presence was the key to salvation.

Sarah had already experienced how he had never forgotten about her the first night, not even in his sleep. And the past hours were nothing less than enlightening. As clichéd as it seemed, it was too good to be true. Yet she clung to it, faithfully reliant. However, it was not the trust of an inexperienced young girl, but of an adult woman who had seen the worst side of mankind and, out of the blue, stumbled over an inconspicuous man whose sheer presence lit up her life like the sun lights up the world after a menacing storm.

He's only a man, she reminded herself. I shouldn't put expectations on him he can't fulfill. I am old enough to want him as he is. That's plenty for me, that's galactic… galactic? Wow, girl, you're bartowskified already. Or is it chuckinized? Gotta ask my nerd about it. What would I be? What's a female nerd? A nerdine? How in one night have we come so far?

Sarah spiraled almost out of control over familiar yet novel anticipation. She had shared the bed with men before, but they all seemed to be wiped from her memory. The man in whose arms she lay right now had mastered the miracle to reboot her love drive, rekindle her need for tenderness and passion, for soft caresses and hard kisses. It was even more astonishing as he had never touched her sensuously but tried to guide her through her darkest night of panic and angst. He had seen her in her most vulnerable hour and generously gave strength and consolation.

This morning, above all, as the painful emotions faded, she discovered that she truly loved Chuck Bartowski.

You meet someone, you are attracted, you date, make out or don't make out, take it further, or don't do it, and bit by bit, you find out how you feel about a man deep inside. And wasn't it a sign that with Chuck, it was the mind-blowing opposite? We didn't follow the usual rituals of mating, at least not off-cover, still…

After last night, she accepted and understood her feelings for him. It was the only four-letter word that eluded her in her life so far. Love.

Now I only need to wrap my mind around everything else and live happily ever after!

As of yet, Sarah was in a total toss-up how she would proceed as she dealt with the impact of too many impressions simultaneously. However, it didn't diminish the fact that her thoughts towards Chuck were drifting in a pronouncedly romantic direction. She loved him. Even if she kept it her secret for a while longer, it was a tremendous source of joy. She was jubilant to the extent that she presumed exploding into a zillion passionate kisses very soon, all hitting Chuck Bartowski and keeping him well-kissed for the rest of his life. She imagined his body plastered all over with the imprints of her lips in a cartoonish way. She did not open her eyes but turned her face in his general direction and smiled happily.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," the sincere tone of his voice that – at least she was sure about it – saved her life a few hours ago rang out. "Why don't you open your eyes? It's only us Chuck Bartowskis. I scared all them ugly monsters away."

Sarah couldn't help but giggle, not even trying to add mocking sternness to her tone. "Why are you talking to me like a three-year-old?"

Her face was relaxed and content, but she still didn't want to open her eyes. It was simply too splendid how her world consisted of nothing but Chuck. He slightly rocked her in his arms like a baby, and it didn't feel in any way condescending.

"Because it always reminds me of another time... when there was someone who could take all my boo-boos away with a little bit of baby talk," he patiently explained.

"Without asking anything in return," Sarah complemented, to which Chuck did not answer.

Did I say something wrong? Did he think I tried to define our relationship with my words and that I push him back once more? When will the bouncing ball that is Chuck Bartowski stop to bounce back to me when I drive him away again and again?

Sarah fretted about it.

That isn't going as I intended – not that I have any precise idea anyway where all this will lead. Into Chucks' arms, hopefully – in a very different way?

Being bad about expressing her feelings had never mattered as there was hardly any room for emotions. But the way she looked at her life had drastically changed during the past 48 hours. Would he understand that her words were no contradiction to the future she hoped for? Or would he assume she was putting him already in his place again? Allowing him to comfort her throughout the night but making sure to keep him at bay by telling him he had nothing to expect from her the next day?

Why does it always come out wrong when I open my mouth? I only wanted to emphasize the selflessness of friendship and love! And by showing that I understand the principle, promising that I would do the same for him!

Sarah finally and timidly opened her eyes to his jaunty brown ones. His broad smile welcomed her to a new day, more reviving than the bright sun and the still fresh breeze out there. Relief washed over her. It seemed, for a change, she had not said something wrong.

"Good morning, again," he greeted. "Runner-up for the most fantastic blue hue of the day, Californian Cloudless Pitch-Perfect Clear-Blue Sky. Winner for the most fantastic blue hue of the day, Sarah Mystic Blue Walker!" he proclaimed.

"Good morning, Chuck," she said with a face-splitting yawn, not yet ready to counter his quips. He bent a little over and exaggeratingly checked out her open mouth while she made eyes of jolly curiosity. "The four on the upper left needs a new filling," he stated matter-of-factly.

Sarah giggled for the second time.

I can't remember when I laughed as often as in the past year with Chuck.

But she had to be cautious because Chuck's humor was a very dangerous entity.

His joking and his wisecracking tickle more than my funny bone. He makes me laugh and happy, and in return, I yearn to make him very, very happy too – oops, he's waiting for a reply, is he?

"I know that's not true. My teeth are perfect," Sarah answered confidently.

"A little funny, but, yes, perfect," he taunted good-naturedly.

"A little funny?" She pressed her lips together and nodded, breathing in and out loudly through her nose. "I understand. Not so perfect. But funny. I know the term 'sweet tooth,' but I never heard of 'funny tooth' before."

His eyebrows twitched. "That's because it's exclusively Sarah Walker."

I see that steadfast friendship in his eyes that I experienced a few hours ago, but there is a promise for more too. What are you gonna do about it, Walker?

"Anything else you found about me that's imperfect?" Sarah inquired teasingly. On a whim, she pulled the duvet down and kicked it off, uncovering her long bare legs with those tantalizing creamy thighs and her sexy well-trained belly, where her tanktop had ridden up to her navel. She held her breath the very next moment when she understood that her move had been a blatant invitation to check her out.

Dangerous ground, girl, watch your step. … But.. what's dangerous about something I can hardly wait to happen?

"Depends upon further examination!" he blurted out without thinking – that was his specialty –, only to blush at his own words: "I'm sorry! That came out the wrong way!"

Sarah tried to figure out why he didn't follow up on her invitation. In her opinion, the only wrong turn he took was that he wasn't already fondling her. Did he know that she wasn't so sure what she wanted herself?

Why wouldn't I be sure? The guy saved my life. My world broke apart, and he fixed it! He loves me, and I know it. Chuck can't hide it. And I love him, but he doesn't know it. There are ways to let him know, right? My goodness, the tie between us is so intense after last night - why don't I indulge in a little bit of bonestorming right away? Devon taught Chuck the wrong part of the Tango, La Ciudad – still irking me – got to tango with him before she almost killed him… so why shouldn't we dance between the sheets and engage in the horizontal tango?

The smile had vanished from her features, and Sarah measured Chuck with the thrill of anticipation conveying that she expected to be pulled into the close combat of passion very soon. She was more than just content to see how her gaze spiked up the nervousness in him and how his face reddened. It wasn't the pink from embarrassment but the rush of blood from excitement. Still, she felt distinctively confused, albeit very more positively than last night.

Why? I could not make a better choice than to seal the deal with Chuck. I'm a big girl. I'm not afraid of decisions and taking risks. ... Ouch! There it is!

The insight came suddenly and soberingly. She was not sure about love at that point in her life because she still digested last night's terror. By now, Sarah was beyond the point of deceiving herself and quick to admit that she was still skittish underneath the joy to be alive and be with Chuck. In a few days, possibly in a few hours, she might have the inner serenity to romance him, making use of all the means mother nature gave her so amply, but not – not right now. And Chuck knew it. He knew it.

Isn't he the fluffiest, fuzziest, curliest, curledest, and most huggable teddy bear ever? He knows. Regardless of what he wants to do with me – I'd love so much to exchange tactical notes about the way our mission to love will take! – he understands that this morning I should remain unkissed. … I should... should I? Really? Who's making up such nonsense that I have to wait any longer?

She wondered what sweet confusion was reigning here and raised a hand to pat his cheek shortly.

He certainly has a knack to make me feel good. Only being there. How sappy… how sexy.

"No offense at all, Chuck," she finally replied. She lost herself in his eyes until he blushed again. It was assuring how he reacted when she allowed him to see a little bit behind the façade of her usually well-guarded eyes. When she permitted him to see the fire burning that was about to go out of control if they both agreed on it. "I asked for it," she smiled sweetly, not going into detail if she meant his unintentional innuendo or his examination of her body.

Yeah, and I am still asking myself all those silly questions why I think I shouldn't take him into my arms like a lover immediately.

He clasped her waist with his right arm and pulled the one around her shoulder a bit back, so he switched from their sleeping position into being comfortably propped-up. That way, he could keep eye contact with her more easily. It happened with such naturalness that it left her speechless - especially the small automatic shift of her own body to accommodate him better.

A moment ago, she pondered very physical thoughts, and now she was engulfed in a cloud of cushy tenderness.

He is a part of me, even though we never became one. My body responds on its own, making itself comfortable in his arms without conscious thinking, without waiting for what I would decide. "Here comes Chuckie scooching over, so welcome him!" Open your heart! Part your lips for some hot french kissing! Open your arms! Part your… whoa...! Oh dear, since when do I call him Chuckie? I am not the kind of-

"So, any more bad dreams? Or did you sleep well this time?" he severed her train of thought before she could wonder why she began to make up her own pet names for him and how far her subconsciousness was already planning ahead.

"I slept wonderfully in your arms," Sarah said with emphasis, showing him a massive toothy grin that was the outbound expression of all her musings. "But once, your snoring woke me up!"

Chuck's repartee was quick and dry. "And your snoring kept me awake half of the night!"

"I don't snore," she corrected him as the grin remained on her face, earning her a playfully exasperated sigh.

"Then there must have been yet another girl in our bed last night, and she snored like there's no tomorrow."

"I bet she was brunette," Sarah grumbled, concealing how much she liked the wording of our bed. It held so much love already and promised so much love for the future, in very different, complementary ways. "You know I really hate how those brunette witches go after you."

"Snorers to the left of me, snorers to the right," he deadpanned. Once more, she had no idea what he was quoting or paraphrasing, but she snickered nonetheless.

"You're a walking cultural reference database," she shook her head, amused.

"For the record, currently, I'm not walking. I'm lying in bed."

Her eyes turned soulfully deep.

"For the record, you're absolutely the first man in bed with me who only had honest intentions," she said half to herself, half to him. "And that even twice in a row!" she added and didn't hide the astonishment in her eyes.

"I don't claim to be a saint, no way," Chuck chattered, relaxed. "But I ain't evil enough to take advantage of a lady if all she needs is a shoulder to lean on."

"Like this one," she tipped on his right shoulder playfully. "Or this one," she repeated the motion on his left shoulder but then let her hand rest there.

Sarah didn't know what came over her when she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled his face closer. Her gaze expectantly went to his lips and then up to his eyes. She realized he went through the same motion, his meditative look at her lips slowly coming up to meet her, which expressed an unspoken question.

Chuck wants to know what I'm up to, and I can't articulate it.

She raised her head slowly, gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek, and sank back onto the pillow. "Thank you for last night," she sincerely sighed.

Sarah sensed she confused him – her eyes, dazzling nearness, touch, and the things she said that seemed so innocuous, of which he would be uncertain how to interpret them. But he was all smiles about her last words without brooding over their meaning. His smile got even broader as she lifted a second time and kissed his other cheek as well.

"And thank you for calling me a lady!"

She felt miserable for pecking his cheeks like that when she should feast on his lips.

I can't get my head around it. We have something so huge that I can't see the forest for the trees. Where do I begin? Ask him if he wants to marry me? Or should I tell him I love him first? Or simply jump his bones to stake my claim? Clean up my past, now that I finally have someone I can trust listening to me?

Heaven, this is so much bigger than me! It feels like the whole universe is waiting for that moment when we give in to each other. And I'm getting lost in the labyrinth of all these beautiful images in my mind. That must be what a flash feels like to Chuck. I have my own Intersect now, built out of love, and its flashes confuse me wonderfully. But is this love? Can't be. What I experience is much, much bigger.

"And I would like to mention a lovely lady," he said with a mischievous undertone added to the smile that remained plastered on his face, oblivious to the deep thinking that went on in Sarah's mind. If she can play, so can I, he thought.

"You think you could collect kisses a-plenty with every Thank You by throwing compliments at me?" she asked, amused, picking up his dare. There was nothing anymore to hold her back, except the echoes of last night's panic and the giant happy bedlam that needed to be sorted out before she would take any further steps.

He shrugged as if he didn't care - like some Ladykiller Chuck, who routinely plucked all the flowers along the way, leaving behind a string of broken hearts, inconsolable lonely girls, and fatherless children.

"Worth a try, especially since all my compliments are totally, totally from the heart."

Her smile quickly disappeared as she snuffled with furrowing eyebrows, only to follow up with a shocked little gasp. Sarah buried her face against his chest. "I'm so embarrassed."

Chuck didn't follow her train of thought.

"If I were a lady, I wouldn't stink like that," she explained while pulling away from his chest. "I must have sweated like a –"

Whatever it was that was on her lips, Chuck sensed it would disturb the tender moment, so he had to keep her from saying it.

"Hey," he interrupted. "I like your scent, whether it's sweet or fruity or salty. It's always Sarah, and that's fine with me."

"Is that a bit nerdy? Or geeky? Or freaky? … Kinky?" she wondered.

Better find out his kinks before it's too late, she mused and could hardly hold back a cackle about herself erupting, twisting her mouth acrobatically to the side. Goodness Walker, you are befuddled today!

"It's realistic," he elucidated. "You know I'm a very cleanly person, but it's impossible to smell like roses all 86400 seconds."

Her whole face turned into a C'mon-look.

"All day long," he translated the seconds, and she rolled her eyes – nerds!

"You don't think I'm smelly?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Sure, you sweated buckets last night," he sighed exasperatedly. "It's not like you just came out of the shower. But it's you, and you're familiar, so…"

"Why don't you stink?" she asked after demonstratively sniffing on his chest, which she found had a musky, warm, and intoxicatingly appealing scent. Chuck had a long, challenging night as well. He isn't as crisp as a freshly opened bottle of Zyr Vodka either. Still, I could crawl on top of him and inhale his scent wantonly. Walker, you are falling head over heels.

Chuck made an aloof face, ludically being beyond replying to her nonsense. He leaned down and sniffed below her Adam's apple, then his head rolled back, throwing himself back into the pillow dramatically.

"I think I'm going blind from the stench!" he croaked, aimlessly groping his hand into the air.

"You're such a goofball, Chuck!" she chortled when he faced her again, obviously proud of making her laugh, still receiving a shove against his chest for his pertness.

"But you could shower while I get some breakfast," he steered the conversation to a more practical side. "Anything in particular you want?"

You in your birthday suit? Sarah slung her arms around his neck and beamed at him, ignoring that she self-consciously thought that only true love could keep him from wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Surprise your wife," she cooed. "But I need coffee, strong and about half a dozen pots."

"Ah, no," he replied with regret, his eyes clearly indicating how much he enjoyed how she hung on him. "No coffee, I'm sorry. That's not so good after a panic attack. That said, no alcohol too, so no champagne breakfast either! And smoking wouldn't be good as well, but since you don't smoke anyway…"

"No, alcohol, no coffee, no cigarettes – next thing you tell me, I have to live in celibacy too! Will I at least survive to a hundred-and-five that way?"

The regret on his face humorously deepened.

"Probably not, but you'll feel like it."

She stared at him for a long moment and then laughed out loud.

"But, Sarah, I didn't say one word about living celibate. As a matter of fact, it is recommended to pursue activities that make you happy. Very much so!"

Now, is he so naïve, or is he cocky and probing if I'd fool around?

The long and pensive look she gave him made him nervous. Again.

She raised her hand to touch his cheek and then slide down to his neck. Feeling his skin led to a tingling sensation as she watched her fingers in amazement. There had to be an explanation about it. She expected something mystical to happen, like her fingertips beginning to glow and that glow to miraculously spread to his skin. It would wander along whenever she moved her fingers, like a tiny dot of light and heat she could direct and have its effect on him wherever she guided it, like a laser pointer.

But first, she had to deal with the impact on herself as that tingle moved up from her fingers to her hand and arm. When it reached her neck, she could feel the fine hairs on her nape standing up. The tingling ebbed out over her bosom. She was both relieved and annoyed that it did not move any further.

If every touch would be as exciting as that little teasing nothing she did currently, then she could not wait to explore all of Chuck, learn about him and his body.

I would so fancy becoming an expert on Chuck. He certainly would come up with a crazy name for that. I would be the foremost and only authority on what makes Chuck Bartowski deliciously perturbed. I would be a… Chuckologist?

Sarah stifled a proud giggle that she invented a nerdy word. Walker, you're a goner.

She eventually breathlessly searched his gaze, and there she saw that glow she had wished for. His wasn't mystical either, yet emphasized the desirous hue in his eyes – it was very physical, and he was obviously fighting with himself to make a move. Still, the lascivious gaze she upheld kept him on edge, not giving in but ready to do so.

Does he wait for one more sign from me?

She sensuously stroked his neck to see his reaction. If she ever played with fire in her life, then it was this very moment.

I really shouldn't do this. Sarah almost chuckled out loud. Heck, at least I should shower first!

A blissful shiver started right where she touched him, and she could swear this time she saw his skin glow where her fingers connected with him. His head involuntarily moved ever so slightly as his eyes fluttered, and the shudder that she had initiated rolled over his shoulder and down his back and chest. Sarah felt powerful by evoking such a reaction from Chuck.

That is only so little I do! I wonder what his response will be if I really caress him. All of me giving him pleasure. Would my reward be the sight of total ecstasy? And I am curious if his touch would make me arch and buck and shiver and shudder, so he could enjoy a similar view? I want to enjoy him, and I want him to enjoy me.

Her ramblings also changed the perception of their togetherness. His assuring, calming nearness dissipated and gave room to a pronounced distinct appreciation of Chuck's body.

Can he notice too how naturally I mold into his arms as if I was made for them?

Everything that soothed before was now exciting. Suddenly, his eyes' gaze was bewitching, his side touching her breast bothering and the arm around her shoulders bewildering. The earthy glow in his eyes had heated up, and Sarah observed it hoping that the fire would break out. There was an expression she hadn't seen before in Chuck. Carnal desire!

It was barely restrained and a bit undecided but intense enough to make her breathing shallow, and it was coated with the boundless love that she came to know last night, and if she was honest to herself, for the past year. Only her anticipation, if he would do anything at all about it, kept her from giggling happily.

He. Wants. Me. … Body and soul. Give him what he wants, her confused heart shouted at her stalling mind. You want it too!

Never taking her cerulean eyes from his, she noted a movement, and then his hand lay on her stomach. Like her fingers on his neck, due to the tanktop having ridden up a few inches, their contact was skin to skin. She instantly sensed that her response to him was the same as his had been before. A prickle emitted from the spot where his hand lay, a wave spreading out that reached her nether region instantly.

Will it happen now? She wondered. Before undressing me completely, you could caress me a while - by pulling up my tanktop so your lips could roam over my body while your hand could slip down between my thighs. Please, that fire in your eyes is the same as in my loins, and it is consuming me. And after last night's ordeal – be tender with me!

She almost moaned, 'Yes!' and wanted to throw all her earlier precautions into the wind. Chuck's fingers began to draw small dreamy circles, and slowly, his hand moved over her flat stomach, exploring the muscles that tensed and fluttered under his touch.

I watched your hands so often doing your magic at a computer. When your fingers danced over a keyboard. Can you do that magic on me as well? Look at me, I'm ready. If you peel me out of my panties, you will notice how ready I am. That's why that imagined soon-to-be-bride in our camping illusion told Charles Carmichael, "I'm ready!" and not "I'm yours!", my sweet naïve Chuck.

The hand on her stomach had a different weight than last night, and it was not soothing but immensely exciting. She held her breath what Chuck would do next, but he didn't follow up like she craved him to. Sarah read his eyes and saw a tremendous fight there while his hand continued to stroke her skin as if it had a life of its own.

What is he fighting about with himself?

She didn't have to ponder long. Chuck was majorly tempted but sought her approval, in whichever way, since they just woke up from a night of horror.

He possibly feels he would take advantage of me. Would he think it was the respectful thing to do to hold back?

An unwanted but since last night versant uneasiness crept up from a corner of her mind, an echo from past hours, telling her it wasn't all over. No, please, no, not another panic attack!

It is complicated, she hastily pondered, her thoughts interwoven with visions of her and Chuck becoming one. This confusing thing called love appeared so insanely important, so essentially vital, that her mind capitulated over the task to sort it all out. She vaguely realized that was why she didn't take the initiative. Why she did not eagerly push her tanktop way up and his hand further down.

And then, to top it all, her stomach rumbled – accusingly loud, frighteningly deep, desperately hungry.

The stunned silence that followed, Chuck's hand suddenly frozen on her stomach, was broken by him throwing his head back and laughing heartily.

"Oh my…, Sarah…" he coughed, a clear I-Can't-Believe-This in his voice. "Saved by the bell…y!"

She couldn't help but nervously chuckle as he tugged on her tanktop to cover the offending abdomen. She was peculiarly relieved and incredibly dissatisfied that the moment had passed, and his glee, sounding a little bit forced, had an undertone that echoed her sentiments – and the same topping of mild frustration.

She needed to determine why the wondrous arousal came with the hint of a panic attack, why her heart and mind were so conflicted that she tarried, and, yeah, she actually was pretty hungry and would feel fresher if she could shower.

"How's about that for a start," he made another attempt at the breakfast topic, only a slight disappointment shining through. "You take a comfy shower, and I'll take care of breakfast in the meanwhile?"

"Feed me," Sarah laughed.

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (3) Snorers to the left of me, snorers to the right: Adapted from "Stuck in the Middle with You", a 1973 hit by Stealers Wheel. The original lyrics read, "Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here I am, Stuck in the middle with you."

A/N (4) How in one night have we come so far: A line borrowed from Miss Saigon, Broadway's thirteenth longest-running musical, based on Giacomo Puccini's 1904 opera Madame Butterfly.

A/N (5) Zyr Vodka: A Russian vodka five times distilled from fermented winter wheat and rye. The distillate is married with quintuple-filtered water before four trips through the filter and three taste testing stages. Drink responsibly. Read responsibly, especially when reading about stuff I don't own, like Zyr Vodka or Chuck.

A/N (6) If you want to shout at our two confused kids for slowly dawdling on their way to happiness, redirect your shouts at me. I was the one sending them into a turmoil last night that needs a bit of time to overcome.