A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: Now that all wardrobe questions are cleared (at least as much Sarah is concerned), they can enjoy a cozy breakfast together.

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

I have a feeling, it's a feeling
I'm concealing, I don't know why.
It's just a mental, sentimental alibi.
But I adore you,
So strong for you.
Why go on stalling
I am falling,
Our love is calling,
Why be shy?
Let's fall in love,
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it.
Let's take a chance,
Why be afraid of it?
"Let's Fall In Love" (Harold Arlen & Ted Koehler)

Chapter 29: Chuck vs. The Cute Invincible Angel

"I'm so relieved that you didn't throw the plates at me!" Chuck sighed, watching with content as Sarah dug in, mildly wondering how someone so slender could eat like a bear coming out of hibernation. They didn't sit side by side but at a corner of the table, so they were close enough to share from the plates Chuck presented one by one comfortably. He enjoyed making a bit of a show out of it, and Sarah accepted it with humor.

"As a small kid," she explained between bites, "you could drive me up the next tree with spinach. But these pancakes with bacon, spinach, and that turmeric spice blend are great."

"I wasn't so sure, even after knowing you for a year, if you wouldn't be solely fixed on traditional breakfast."

"I've been in so many countries, and as grateful as I'm always coming home, I'm not ignorant."

She shrugged, not elaborating that life as a deadly spy does not necessarily mean living in luxury and all the time wearing silk and satin.

"First, out of necessity when traveling abroad most of the time, and second, out of curiosity. So I don't mind checking out what dishes they offer here."

Chuck swallowed another bite while they shared everything. They were almost through the whole selection of small portions he brought. Both had relaxed, and they had enjoyed breakfast with light banter and the right amount of tension to keep the nearly electric flow between them unbroken.

"Chuck, about last night…" Sarah began the inevitable and sorely needed discussion. She had showered, but now it was time to cleanse her soul. Even finding out about his passionate side had to wait a few minutes more. Some things inside her had to be cleared to be ready for her future.

He might guess that something's brewing, but he doesn't know yet that he will be my lover in a few. Should I tell him that he's only sooo much away from being a very happy man? Ah, no. No sight lovelier than a kid unwrapping its presents!

But before that, Sarah had to satisfy her curiosity. She straightened up and felt Chuck's gaze on her elegant neck for a moment, which made her forcefully pull a content smile out of her face by twisting her lips.

"You called me CIA once or twice last night. What was that about?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "That was only something to get your attention. Trying to distract you from your panic."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I know you long enough to know that there's more to it."

"Ah, nothing important," he evaded her with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

"I knew it," Sarah exclaimed. She leaned on the back of the chair and pointed an arm at him that was mostly covered by the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. "Tell your handler, Chuck, that's an order!"

She wiggled her eyebrows and let a smile play around her lips to make sure he understood that she was joking.

"It didn't mean Central Intelligence Agency, that's all," Chuck hedged and watched her arm fascinated.

Good choice, girl. There is something about women in men's shirts that attracts the guys. Can't say why. It's only a shirt, and it's only me. Big deal.

"Need I throw you on the floor and torture you?"

Chuck grinned. "That's more an offer than a threat, Agent Walker."

"You know I'll find out sooner or later." She leaned over the table and looked into his eyes, giving him a healthy dose of the baby blues, and the shirt fell open. That button she had undone when she mimicked to get rid of the shirt earlier had been the third as she walked out with the first two already unbuttoned. "I'll find a truth serum."

"Your eyes are all the truth serum I need," Chuck relented too quickly. "I can't withstand when you give me that look."

I have to give it to him that he didn't follow my invitation to watch boobie cinema. His gaze flickered but did not move down. I know he's getting bothered, I am already, but he displays more sangfroid than I expected. I know how ample the view is when I lean over like that. There's more to Chuckie than I anticipated. He's playing along nicely, acknowledging my advances without lecherously gawking. A nerd with style. … Can I fall any harder for him than I already am?

Chuck presented another plate as he had finished the bacon-spinach pancake.

"You're ready for a classic? We have pancakes with maple syrup and, as a twist, small diced exotic fruits. There's pineapple, kiwi, mango, papaya, guava, and some I forgot."

"That's acai," Sarah pointed out, "and that's carambola."

She pulled the shirt collar back in place and the view at her chest all but closed.

Cleavage sightseeing offer expired.

"Yeah, right, I forgot," Chuck mumbled.

"But I didn't forget about your CIA quip and am still waiting for an answer." She moved her fork in his direction with a generous circular movement. "Bring it on, Agent Walker wants to hear it."

He put a bite on his fork and fed her. Sarah had to keep from squirming on her chair.

That's so intimate. No one ever did that, and I refused it from Bryce. I didn't even know why. But Chuck simply brandishes a fork, and I open my mouth right away. Waving a dangerous tool that, in my hands, can decide about the outcome of revolutions, in front of my face and not getting punched in his own immediately… well, it means I trust him completely. And… does he try to divert from his CIA quip? You have to get up earlier to put one over Sarah Walker!

"Mmmh, that's great," she praised and then only spoke his name, adding a question mark to it. "Chuck?"

He sighed, but his look of dismay was half-hearted. "Alright, alright. I gave the abbreviation a new meaning. Regarding you, CIA means Cute Invincible Angel."

Her own fork, loaded with a bite of the fruity pancakes, was suspended in mid-air as she playfully wiggled her head. Her nose wrinkled, and her lips parted slightly to a small, pleased smile, and, yes, she looked totally cute.

"I like that," she approved.

It is so refreshing that he does not speak such words to make me spread my legs. He got no other intention than to make me feel good. And that makes me exactly want to do what he does not say it for.

"Yeah, I like that, and I like the way you say it," Sarah reinforced. Chuck happily smiled though he didn't know what considerations led her to admit her sentiments.

"I have a serious question too if you don't…"

She trailed off, seeing his expression of readiness for whatever she threw at him, and felt a wave of love welling up that came from way deep in her soul. "Why should you mind, you're the best," she muttered. "So I had that panic attack last night. It came from ... some terrible things in my life."

She hemmed and hawed and nonetheless decided to continue.

"Horrible things. But I had moments today... when I had good feelings and very nice thoughts."

Sarah gave him an honestly shy look, hoping he understood that she referred to what she felt for him and how she wanted to share it with him. She needed to reassure him that her alluring advances were no idle game. And that there was more than sex on her mind. Although, all that could wait a few hours until her first carnal hunger was stilled.

"And these nice feelings gave me some kind of panic too. Not serious, but enough to make me nervous. How can that be? I thought the panic is connected to something bad and not... to something good."

As she talked, Sarah could see that Chuck understood both her question and her underlying message and was eager to help. She almost added an endearment to close her speech, like darling or sweetie or honey or even Chuckie, but he replied before she could decide.

"I'm glad you ask," Chuck grinned before showing a smile that came from a profound understanding of the matter. "Sarah, a panic attack is tied to feelings. It's pure, raw, unfiltered, free-of-logic emotions."

Sarah felt her ears heat up. "Like passion," she whispered. Then it hit her.

Pure – like the pure love she experienced for him. Raw – like the raw sex she craved to express her emotions beyond words. Unfiltered – like the no-holds-barred candor she wanted to learn. Free-of-logic – like ignorance of all the protocols she was breaching when she fell for him. Emotions! It's all the same – good ones, bad ones. So the good ones may send me into panic as well.

She understood before he even explained, but she loved to hear him talk, so she gulped down that 'I get it' that was on her lips.

"Exactly!" Chuck confirmed. "And can you control passion? Think about making love…"

I do all the time, Sarah thought and had the urge to lovingly smack him for being so slow to pick it up. So intensely that you should hear my thoughts.

"…you can choose with whom you hop into the sack, yet you can not tell your heart whom to love, but if you can combine these two, then magic may happen."

"Magic?"

She was about to say something as she never experienced magic in her first 26 years but refrained. He still seemed to have picked up the unspoken doubt she had.

"Yes, Sarah. I know I'm cheesy, but some stereotypes are true. Body and soul, and all that jazz. It's true. You'll be at the mercy of your emotions if you wholly fall in love, and better pray to God that this someone feels the same about you."

Oh my gosh, he is talking about me? How can he pinpoint that so precisely?

"And being at the mercy of our emotions makes us very vulnerable, especially in times of crisis. So… a panic attack can be triggered by wonderful feelings as well, unfortunately. … Like, you compare numbers and realize you won big in the lottery, and, bam, you have a panic attack! Everything that breaks the numbness of your soul, you know, that passive emotionless attitude you obtained to get by without the least possible hurt, all that can trigger an attack. Bad feelings as well as good ones."

Chuck snapped his fingers, and she came out of the meditative concentration listening to him.

"Tell you what, Sarah – every time you feel such a panic welling up, you tell me. Let's agree on a code word… like… jackpot! When panic crawls up, you simply say 'Jackpot!' and then lean back."

"How does that work?"

"You say our code word, and I'll take over until you regain your calm. Say, we find that a-bomb, you have a big showdown defeating the bad guy boss, and everything's splendiferous until Beckman praises you for your work and, pow, you have a panic attack. Whisper 'Jackpot!' to me, and I'll handle the General until you can stand on your own feet again."

She couldn't help but laugh, and he blinked, almost a bit affronted.

"No, Chuck, sorry, I get it," she smiled. "It's just the way you put these things… handle the General. May I have front row seating, Coke, and popcorn for that?"

"You'll always have a front-row seat in my…" Chuck trailed off.

…heart! He was too shy to say it, but I know what almost slipped out. It's so sweet I want to meow!

She reached out with her free hand, cupped his chin, and touched his lips with her thumb. Without hesitation, he kissed that thumb, and she watched him doing so, her mind much further than merely her finger being kissed suddenly. She glimpsed at the table. As for her, the bed was too far away.

Let's brutally shove all the dishes from the table and get down to business right here.

She pulled her hand back with effort.

I better reply.

"So, 'jackpot' is the code word. I might come back to that. A little assurance never can hurt."

"Ready for one last course?"

She peeked into her shirt and at her belly. Then looked back at Chuck as if he just had seen what she saw. "Did I miss something, and are you fattening me? You called me an angel but keep on like that, and I'll look like one of those fat baroque angels you see in churches and monuments all over Europe."

"I bet you'll be the cutest fattest angel ever," he quipped before biting his lips. "Thaaaat sounded funnier in my mind. Sorry, Sarah, God, I'm so sorry."

She had begun to laugh once the first part had left his mouth, and his face turned ashen, realizing what he said. "Never mind, Chuck. Your face was worth the insult. And, none taken."

She took a few moments to get the joy under control. When she sobered up, she looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you think I'm an angel?"

Geez, he's so sweet when he doesn't know what to say. C'mon, don't be shy.

She prodded his ribs lightly and allowed a playful expression to ghost over her face. "Or do you think of sexy angels?"

"Before my big mouth gets me in trouble again, I reiterate that I only translated CIA into Cute Invincible Angel, and that's all you're going to hear from me."

"I'm not an angel, Chuck," she said so softly that he almost didn't hear her. "I have an unhealthy job and live an unhealthy life."

"Is chocolate croissant unhealthy?" Chuck steered away from the topic as only he could.

Did he just compare me with some Viennoiserie?

"What? I mean.. what? If you consider all the sugar and fat and calories, … yes, I'd guess it's unhealthy. But to bite into that fluffy dough, sprinkled with almond slices, filled with creamy dark chocolate, and, on a perfect morning, still fresh and warm from the bakery… it's a sin I can't resist."

"If ever I came close doing something with a grand flourish and shout, et voilá!, it is right now," Chuck grinned as he reached down to the lower tray of the tea wagon and presented the pièce de résistance. Sarah stared at the croissant like Indiana Jones when he first beheld the Holy Grail.

"Wow," she sighed. "I wouldn't mind if you spoil me like that every morning."

Every damn morning for the rest of my life, she nearly added aloud.

Have we considered the consequences of that wish, Miss Walker? Chuck wondered, only to find out the answer as she sent him an abashed little smile confirming that she would not back down from her words. She was earnest about it. If fate would have it, this was the beginning of a new life. How fitting to realize this on a brand-new day that already saw her feeling like a newborn. To hide her own emotions over the moment of clarity she had, she went for the croissant and took a bite.

"Oooh, Chuck, that's terrific!" she complimented as a loose crumb of the dough stuck to the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out to deftly catch the crumb and then circled her lips in the search for more. Finding nothing and noticing how he followed the way of her tongue hypnotized, she eventually locked on his chocolate orbs and asked with a conspiratorial voice: "How many girls have you wooed by feeding them fresh chocolate croissants?"

He laughed self-consciously and held her gaze. "Actually," he answered with the same intonation, leaning closer as if telling a secret, "… none. I'm working on the first one. Wish me luck."

That's about me. Yup. Nice move, buster. Perfect way to get into my panties without appearing too eager.

She gulped, although the bite of the croissant was gone by now. Her cheeks were heating up, and her eyes began to sparkle with that particular expression that a little moistness produced.

How sexy is that? Telling me in mere seconds that I am the one on his mind, that there is no one else but me and making me an accomplice in his quest to conquer me.

She found herself forced to lower her head again to take another bite. Mastering her emotions, she ruefully looked over to him.

"I'm sorry, I'm munching this away, and you don't get any. Here, let me feed you," Sarah said and did so. She waited for the moment when he took a big bite, and right then, inquired: "So do you make any ground with her? Will the croissant do the trick?"

He coughed immediately and covered his mouth with a hand, apologizing, all the while scrutinizing her.

Chuck, don't foul this up.

"You know how it is with girls," he tried to postpone coming clean about her question.

"No, I don't," she replied, put the pastry down, and leaned her chin on her hands. "I never pursued girls, and showering with Carina doesn't count."

"You showered with Carina?" he stammered, only to appease immediately. Sarah's narrowed eyes and small lips unmistakably displayed that Carina was not in any equation of her love life, regardless that the redhead seemed to have a different opinion on that. "Not that I would care about that. Not. At. All."

Chuck had compared her with a kitten earlier, but now he decidedly saw a tigress. It was better to move on with his tale than to get himself any deeper into trouble.

"Actually, I am seriously playing for keeps with that woman I mentioned."

"Are you indeed?" Sarah broke in dreamily. "Does she know how lucky she is?"

"Hm. I get mixed signals, and I can't get some things out of my system, which certainly is ridiculous, but…"

"What's so heavy on your mind?" Sarah asked. "As you possibly noted, I'm a girl too –" he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and blushed when she sent him a sharp look, "–so I possibly can give you sound advice."

"I don't know if I should shove this on you in your situation…"

"Chuuuuck! Need I open my beauty case?" Her funny demeanor proved that she had forgiven him the Carina faux-pas.

"Ah, no, no. Leave those knives where they are."

He gave her a long and reflective look as both soaked in the comfortable familiarity that had built between them.

"That girl… you can say we work together… occasionally, off-hours, so I got to know her a little bit. So, one evening recently, I say to myself, why not surprise her and sweep her off her feet – in style, white dinner jacket, a bottle of Château Margaux, red rose – and so I dropped by, unannounced."

Sarah frowned as she knew the little play was about her, but she couldn't place when this had happened – when had he shown up unexpectedly?

"Chuck, you confuse me."

"That was, in part, what I intended to do to this woman that evening. But, truthfully, I was only there to meet her. Guess what happens? So here I am, trying to woo that girl. I knock on her door - and her ex opens, checking out my dinner jacket, the wine, the rose. Making some needling remarks. You know, a bit arrogantly. Condescendingly telling me how she's the best and hinting that he talked about how good she's in bed. At least that was what it sounded like in my ears. He kind of rubbed it in how he had some older claims. Going all gentlemanly, he let me know that it's none of my business what's going on between her and him. My exchange with him was not pleasant, to say the least."

Chuck was talking faster as he raced through his story and Sarah's mind hastily caught up on what sounded like an emotional Waterloo for Chuck. Bryce, you're such an asshole, Sarah cursed but was irritated. Something was off. When did that happen? There was only one occasion when Chuck wore a white dinner jacket, but… what the…? Was I distracted by talking with Carina, so I didn't get that the two men had a longer conversation than I thought?

"When she eventually came out of the bathroom, she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her smile lit up the whole room, and her beauty made me stagger. And that stunningly elegant red dress accentuated her so naturally. I love that dress, by the way."

He is talking about that evening. I didn't know Bryce upset Chuck so much before I saw him, Sarah mused. Yeah, I remember the evening all too well. That was when you spurned me, one of the few times when I didn't dress for a job or solely for myself, but for a man, to be noticed and complimented. For you.

She felt not even a trace of sadness or anger about that moment. It was past like so many things had become past the recent two days with Chuck's help. She gazed at him with concentration, her lips slightly parted in anticipation and her eyes encouraging him to continue.

"When I saw how much effort she put into her appearance that night, I assumed it was all for him, not for me. As I said, mine was a surprise visit, and she couldn't expect that she would see me. I wish I could apologize for my hurtful words about her dress. I was looking forward to meeting her and didn't expect her ex or to have her dressed up so brilliantly for him."

"But Chuck…," she whispered and broke his third-person scenario. "Chuck… I knew you'd see me that evening."

Her part after that revelation was more manageable. She still thought it was inappropriate to diss her dress the way he did, but at least she knew now why Chuck did it. As for Chuck, his fear about Sarah's happiness to have Bryce back dissolved into thin air.

Casey's right. I'm a moron. Case closed.

"I knew about the mission already," she continued. "I expected you would be there. I assumed that Casey had informed you. I didn't dress for Bryce. And I didn't go the extra mile to look pretty for the mission."

Walker, you coward, when are you going to be straightforward and simply tell him that you dressed for him?

"I even…" she chuckled mysteriously to herself and trailed off, blushing and waving her hand quickly. She shook her head. A girl has to keep some secrets.

"No, I didn't dress up for Bryce," she repeated and defiantly pushed her chin forward. "I dressed for you! And you know…" she took a deep breath, "… you're not merely an asset to me?"

There! I just told you that I love you, didn't I? So I used more words instead of those famous three and not the L-word at all, but that's me - little complicated enamored Sarah. Don't expect everything at once, Chuck. My message is out, and I hope you listen.

"I'm such an idiot," he said with a silly grin that quickly vanished. "But Bryce was so convincing. He implied that if this mission were successful, you surely would be partnered up again and leave with him."

He paused and shrugged. The bond between them was tight enough, so he did not have to explain his feelings about these moments when Bryce tried to put him in his place. Sarah wasn't able to deal with them anyway for the time being as she hated Larkin with an all-encompassing vehemence.

What have you done, Bryce? What doubts have you sown, and what pain have you causedf? If I had known that, you wouldn't have left the hotel last night on your own two feet, I swear.

"Then we embarked on this mission, and things turned out as they did. We spent this night together. As grim as it was, I never felt so close to anyone in my life. And I felt such a determination in me about your well-being and your happiness."

A slight tremble began in her body, and she hoped Chuck didn't notice it. This was not the nerd stumbling to piece the words together. It was still Chuck, but he was different. With a gasp, she realized that it was her that had caused that change. By allowing him to look into her soul, he transformed too, rising to the need of comforting her.

We both matured. That is where his quiet confidence stems from!

She suddenly wasn't so sure anymore where this was going. Or if she wanted to know. How would a grown-up Chuck view the pull-and-push tactics she used on him for a year?

We may come out of life-changing moments wiser, but not necessarily happier.

And then he was, considering his otherwise mild-mannered bearing towards her, firing on all cylinders.

"I want nothing more than to be with you. To be there for you. To share your bad days and good days."

The hues of his eyes changed. More than ever, they looked as sinful as dark chocolate and promised the best of times.

"And your nights."

Wow! That's the first time you ever mention the physical side. Is this the moment I've been waiting for? And admit it, you've been waiting for? Tell me you want me, really really want me and how you can't live any longer without my touch, and the next thing you'll know is how I drag you to that bed. Or we pick up my earlier idea of the table, what do you say, Chuckie?

Chuck was the next to take a deep breath as he prepared to explain the pledge he made to himself. "Get ready for some high-class sappiness. But I mean every word, so please don't laugh too much."

Sarah knew she didn't need to reassure him and remained silent. He was only steeling himself for what he was going to say.

"Above all, I want you to be happy. I will sacrifice anything for your happiness."

He gestured between the two of them as her sense of foreboding made all her internal alarms ring.

Sacrifice for me? But that sounds like something he does for me, separated from me, not like in 'we together'. Chuck, don't make me unhappy now!

"But what I want doesn't have to be what you want. So I'll be your baggage handler as long as your journey is my journey, and if our ways part, you should know you always could stop by. I just need you to know that wherever you go I'll always be there to help you. Somebody you can call. Put that baggage on my shoulder. I don't ask questions. Whatever, whenever, wherever."

Then it clicked in her mind. Like the world's most massive machine would click.

Sarah had to support herself on the desk as she put all the pieces together. She thought she would slip from her chair and sprawl to the floor. Every ounce of strength seemed to have vanished from her limbs. Sarah wanted to shout but could only pant.

"Oh my God - you would send me away to Bryce if that's what I wanted!"

She was going bonkers within the next few femtoseconds and only owed to that damnable nerd at her side she knew how short that was.

Does that mean that while I have myself prepped up to be your lover, you were considering the best way to let me go? All that effort was for the birds? From wrecking my brain how to transfer the right words to my mouth for the first time in my life to trimming my landing strip in case you ever make a bold touchdown approach?

She had a distinctive Tom & Jerry moment - a chainsaw had appeared out of nowhere sticking out of the floor and was swiftly sawing a clean-cut circle around her. Once the tool completed its circle, she and her chair and that part of the floor would disappear downward with a whoosh! and leave behind only a greyish swirl of air and the audience's laugh track.

Chuck sensed her tumultuous feelings. He wasn't sure if her agitation stemmed from his declaration of love and if he had caused a happy jolt, and she would sink into his arms with delight in a jiffy. Or if she was shocked that he wanted her so badly and didn't know how to tell him that she actually would prefer to leave, regardless if that was with or without Larkin, but only for the good glamorous spy life that was nowhere to be found in the dull Burbank-ish 'urbs.

Whatever it was, he desperately tried to lighten up the moment.

"I'd insist on talking with Bryce from nerd to spy how to deal with you in the future. Also, I ask for a burner phone, so you can reach me anytime in case he needs a refresher course on how to treat the best woman that ever could happen to a man."

Sarah had not expected that. She got up on unsteady feet and almost fell into his arms as he got up as well. "Hold me, Chuck, hold me," she pleaded, and he obliged. As baffled as she was, she was determined that this – whatever it was – was solved here and now. She had to find out what his strange behavior and his conflicting words meant.

How could he say he wants to share my days and nights and then, without hardly making a pause, explain that he would let me go wherever and with whoever I wanted to go?

"What does all that mean? she asked and cautioned with what seemed like her last effort before swooning, "No Chuck talk this time, just the facts!"

Although the task not to sputter out of control seemed to overwhelm him for the briefest of seconds, Chuck did not hesitate. While one arm held her firmly, the other's hand came up to calmly tuck two strands of her behind her ears. He kissed her lips more tenderly than she ever had been touched in her time, then straightened up again and looked down, as a smidgen of tears of deep emotion glinted in the corners of his eyes.

"I love you, Sarah Walker."

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (3) Femtosecond: Pulse time on fastest lasers, that is, one quadrillionth, or one-millionth of one billionth, of a second. For context, a femtosecond is to a second as a second is to about 31.71 million years.

A/N (4) Possibly you have a few billions of femtoseconds to put down a review.