A/N (1) Previously on Chuck versus The Journey: In the last chapters, we proved that Chuck's willingness to help is almost as enormous as his lack of insight into human nature, so Ginger would have almost kidnapped him if Sarah had not intervened. But our girl came out on top (of the fight, I'm talking about the fight, not of her and Chuck!) and proceeded to be an impressive leader in closing the mission. The last chapter's characters were Sarah, Chuck, Casey, Roan, Carina, a Governor plus wife and security detail, many arrested bad folks, and a mysterious bottle of Chardonnay. We zoom back to find out about the Intersect data of all twenty-seven criminals in custody, complete with a full biography of eight pages each. Nay. Only in an evil mirror universe.

Pretty woman, walkin' down the street,
Pretty woman, the kind I like to meet.
Pretty woman, I don't believe you, you're not the truth.
No one could look as good as you - mercy!
"Oh, Pretty Woman" (Roy Orbison & Billy Dees)

Chapter 43: Sarah vs. Exhaustion

Darkness greeted her, and Sarah leaned on the closed door.

This is getting to be a habit — me and that door. I should cut my name into it. Or something like 'Sarah was here, almost died and found a new life'.

It was almost 1 AM after an utterly demanding evening. For the first time in hours, she breathed freely again without the need to keep tabs over dozens of things simultaneously. Not that she hadn't excelled as far as she knew, but it had been arduous work. They interrogated every person at the ballroom and had done so with utmost attention and concentration. She didn't have a chance to eat anything at all, relying on bottles of water from Carina and abundant amounts of adrenaline her body provided. Her mind almost reluctantly let go of the countless impressions as if it couldn't sort out what was now and what was then. Her part of the mission was over for good. All she had to consider was the man in her heart hopefully waiting for her.

Back at their honeymoon suite, she was relieved, carrying a deep tiredness with her, and felt a tiny bit disenchanted over the empty room.

Sarah could see at a glance in the pallid rest of light the night still provided that the table was empty, which was where her disappointment stemmed from. With the fatuous hope of a teenage girl head over heels in love, part of her had longed that Chuck would prepare a midnight snack for her. He had been off duty earlier when the interrogations were done, and Sarah only had a series of closing discussions with the agencies involved.

Why should he? He had been at Casey's room these hours and checked out the people we interviewed, and nobody cared if he had a bite to eat either.

Trying to convince herself that she had no reason to be chagrined, she was fatigued enough to doze away right where she stood. Rewinding the events of a little more than only one day, Sarah realized she was entitled to be exhausted.

Her incredible roller coaster ride had begun with a rough night of the worst panic attack she ever had, rapidly draining her powers. The clarity his all-out attempt to shield her from her demons as much as he could had led to a day with more sex than a Roman orgy could deliver. She had not been able to keep her hands from Chuck and to her utter satisfaction vice versa. Then in a soul-wrecking moment, Sarah told Chuck about her past and how Langston Graham had raped her. This alone had left her emotionally drained enough to crawl into his arms and sleep for six hours straight. Instead, she fought a battle for her life, in a double meaning as 'her life' now meant 'Sarah and Chuck'. It ended with the only person who could identify Chuck as the Intersect dead on the floor with a knife in her chest. As the icing on the cake, she had done more interrogations than they did in the casting for a Hollywood blockbuster movie - at least it felt that way - and in the passing, had Carina put in her place.

She even had taken care that a cleared hotel employee served Casey his Espresso Macchiato with a shot of Johnny Walker when the interrogations were wrapping up.

Yup, I am entitled to be plum tuckered out. Some tasty little drop to drink, a bite to eat, a slow shower, and a bed with a warm and curly someone to hold me and sing a nerdy, whacky lullaby - that would have been lovely.

Speaking of. The joyful, pleasant, and occasionally wavering baritone of Chuck emitted from the bathroom.

At least one of us is in a great mood. Probably showered and well-nourished. Possibly rested and randy.

Then the door opened, and Chuck strolled out of the bathroom, in a terrycloth bathrobe and as foreseen in a pretty good mood.

"Big girls don't cry," he sang along with a band he only heard in his head.

He stopped abruptly and laughed, the joy directed at Sarah for being happy to have her back, and she couldn't help but to return the laugh. Being in love and showing each other was so new - and so easy.

"Oh, you're here! Great! … That was Fergie. I mean, it was me, but it's her song, and…" he trailed off as she could not keep a grin appearing on her face.

"Hey, gorgeous," he greeted with a deep voice, drawling the vowels. "Don't switch on the light," he added when her hand moved to the switch. She was too tired to give him a querying look why he preferred the dusky darkness. It saved her the effort to hit the button, but she had to let him know about her sentiments.

"If you wanna set up a romantic atmosphere, you need to wine and dine me first, followed by a short nap to feel human again," she smilingly told him, her world already looking brighter in the darkness of the night because they were together.

"Wine and dine at… almost one in the morning?"

"I was a bit busy, in case you noticed," Sarah said, controlling her voice to remain calm and keep any accusation out of it. She was tired and hungry. Or hungry and tired. Whichever came first, neither was his fault. All that mattered was to be with him. Her stomach may be empty, but her heart was full.

"I was busy too. Very much, actually," Chuck explained with a pensive look that should have made her curious in normal circumstances. "Still, I had a bite to eat earlier."

Big girls don't cry, yeah, right, don't cry, Walker, she thought, but a tiny wail still escaped her mouth that had the urgency of a starving duckling calling the mother duck to feed it.

"Wine and dine… bread and water… all the same in my condition."

Chuck walked up to her, then embraced her with a naturalness that she still had not familiarized but welcomed wholeheartedly. She wanted to sink into these arms, simply be held and sleep… well, make that twelve hours straight.

"Tired?" he asked with a knowing mien, after having winced over her words.

Serves you well! Sarah thought, too lazy to make a comment and tease him about it. She wasn't peeved in any way. His nearness drove away any anger over Carina or the many minor complications an evening as that brought. Her own failure was that she was too conscientious about making a break of a minute or two.

"Bone-weary," she sighed and smiled. Her nose told her he actually had showered. She pulled the bathrobe over his chest open, leaned her head against him, and took in his scent. She knew he wasn't a perfume guy, so the light, clean spicy smell of citrus and ginger must come from the shower gel, but the musky and earthy aroma was his body, and she avidly inhaled it.

Sarah didn't know how long she stood with her hands on his bare chest and her face pressed against it, breathing through her nose and feeling at home. She never had experienced that powerful emotion of knowing where she belonged to before, and his nearness was the worldly expression of it. When an amused chuckle wandered through his chest, she half-opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"We have a bed nearby," he unnecessarily told her. She knew. She was close to fantasizing about that bed, how she could sprawl out and sleep until lunch. Or until an afternoon snack in bed. "Would be more comfortable than sleeping standing up."

"Didn't sleep," she weakly remonstrated with the cutest of pouts. "I relaxed in my boyfriend's arms."

"And drooled on his chest," Chuck added, which made her gaze down in sudden shame, but his chest was as dry as it had been before.

"Yeah, go ahead, pull my leg," she yawned, good-tempered. "Your luck I am absolutely wrecked."

"And I thought you'd be like the Energizer Bunny, going and going and going…"

Well, dear nerd, I was like the Energizer Bunny yesterday, yet not going but coming and coming and coming, but there is a moment when even my batteries are depleted, Sarah thought. She pondered if she should speak it out but decided against it – he might get the idea she was looking for that special delight of their bodies united in ecstasy while she only craved relaxation.

"The only thing going will be me going down to sleep on the floor - sweaty, thirsty, and starved to death," she told him.

There, handle that. I don't want you to feel guilty that you did not prepare for my return. Not much.

The roguish smile telling that she teased him did not really show on her face because the day plainly had overtaxed her.

"So we're too sleepy for everything?" he asked, and she scrutinized him. A few tiny wrinkles around his eyes told that he had a long day too, but she wasn't sure what he hinted at. He must be tired as well. Although his nightly activity of checking the monitors could not have been more tiring than the video games he played. He couldn't want to…?

If you wanna have sex, throw me on the bed and have fun, because I can't fool around with you now if my life depended on it. You know where to find all my sweet parts, help yourself.

"Your head OK? Too many flashes?" she inquired in a sudden worry about his well-being.

"No, I'm OK. I didn't flash that often," Chuck assured. "But what about you? Too burnt-out?"

For what? He's up to something. It's easy to see. The recreation on his mind must be me relaxing him. Let me eat, drink, nap, in that order, then I am available for bilateral talks about denuclearizing a bedroom missile.

"Uhm... what do you mean?" she cautiously asked as he performed his silly, endearingly eyebrow dance, much too lively for her taste and the time of the day.

"A little bit to drink, a little bit to eat, a little bubble bath, some back and shoulder massage, fresh pajamas waiting at your pillow, and finally, yours truly lulling you to sleep."

She regarded him to see if he was pulling a cruel joke but almost swooned when she realized he meant every word as he said it.

Someday I have to find out about that disaster called Jill. What kind of woman would let a guy like him go and, of all the losers out there, hook up with Bryce?

She cringed inwardly.

I am excused! I didn't know Chuck back then!

Her spy senses woke up, toilsomely tried to alert her about something regarding Jill, but she wasn't sure if she could keep that in mind until tomorrow. Mainly as Chuck had spoken words that touched the depths of her thirsty and starving soul.

"Can you read my thoughts?" Sarah whispered, looping her arms around his neck and kissing him briefly but soundly. "How is this possible?"

The sparkle in her eyes was powerful enough to feed the public lighting of Los Angeles as some of her tiredness was ousted by curiosity. She peered into the darkness, agitated.

He must have the food hidden somewhere, she thought. I could steal a bite before having my bath. If I apply my baby blues on him, he might even feed me.

Chuck shrugged in a genial mood.

"This is a full-service hotel," he replied. "Are you ready?"

He saved her the trouble to answer as it was written all over her face, so he knelt at her feet. He opened the criss-cross laces around her ankles, then gently, one by one, removed her high-heels.

"Oh, wow," Sarah sighed. She had not expected that.

She thought he would hand her a robe, then a towel after the bath, and in the meanwhile lay the table to await her with a glass of wine or bubbly and some food.

Don't overthink. Chuck saved you from despair, he brought you love unknown, he will not fail you now. Just let him work his magic, and all will be good.

Chuck remained on his knees and fiddled around with her trousers, opening them and sliding them down, allowing her to step out of it in graceful moves. He kissed her knees and trailed upwards on her thighs, placing little, undemanding kisses there, almost ghosting over her skin. She looked down, mesmerized how he precisely knew the touch she longed for, understanding that she was too burnt-out to be aroused.

He certainly is a man for all seasons and all occasions, never ceasing to amaze me.

"Is that included in the full service your house offers?" she managed to ask.

"Yes, Ma'am," he breathed against her panties, "Our full service for goddesses."

A shiver ran down her spine. Sarah wasn't so sure about his intentions anymore. Was Chuck trying to stir her passion?

He does not plan to have me as an appetizer, could he? If I can find the strength, I'll gladly be his dessert, whatever he likes. I'll be his ice cream cone, and he can take care of the filling – Christ, Walker, when did you develop a 'dirty dessert mind' just like Casey? – but there's no way I will be the naked surprise to jump out of the cake before I had a good piece of that cake, so to speak.

Chuck interrupted her musings when he tenderly pulled her panties down. Sarah gasped, but nonetheless slowly stepped out of them as if hypnotized and noticed how he equally paralyzed knelt in front of her nudeness.

"My worn-out gazelle," he moaned in admiration of her legs, and she wondered again if his ulterior motive was to charm her into his arms. A swift, short but intense fantasy captivated her mind.

I could lean back on that door and allow him admission to the core of my being by opening wide. Resting a weary thigh on his shoulder, perhaps? Chuck could kneel in front of me and worship my womanhood. All left for me was to enjoy myself.

Too wiped out to feel a tingle of arousal even over the wicked imagination, Sarah still registered an amorous prickle on her skin.

Would he catch me when I fall, and fall I would as I know he would make my knees buckle harder than my logy body could stand?

Chuck got up with an expression on his darkened face that was easy to read. He seemed to be affected by his own game. He gingerly took her hands and held them for a few seconds.

"Oh, oh, pretty woman," he chanted.

She recognized that one and cheerfully booped him on the nose, interjecting a single word. "Mercy!"

"You're the most enrapturing, entrancing creature that ever existed," he croaked. "I'm sorry to call you a creature. Girl, woman, female, that's all too little. You can't imagine how spellbinding, alluring… you look in that blazer and the white blouse and… nothing else."

Sarah was thrilled to see that he had to shake himself free of his imagination to continue - and relieved that she was not the only one in this room still having carnal ideas.

"Excuse me, got carried away. You're weary and worn out, and I promised you a chill-out."

Chuck took the blazer off of her and then began to open the buttons of her blouse slowly. She looked down at his hands, and even in the dim light, could see that they trembled.

"Nervous?" she asked, delighted what she did to him while doing nothing.

"I'm sorry," he pressed out, regaining his control. "I'm new to worshipping goddesses." He smiled teasingly, once more throwing her off balance over the question if he was tempting her for later - please, later, let me have something to eat first! - lustful recreation.

When he was done with the buttons, he slid the blouse off her shoulders, which looked creamy and pale in the darkened room. The moment she was all naked, he swept her up and carried her to the bathroom.

"Don't worry, you're doing fine so far," she whispered in his ear and enjoyed seeing the fine hairs on his nape standing up. She used the opportunity to lay her head on his shoulder and close her eyes, hoping to find enough reserves once she had to stand on her own feet again. He pushed the door open and carried her inside. Sarah sleepily opened her eyes, and then her brows shot up to her hair, and she gasped.

•••••••••••••••••••

There were rose-colored candles on the vanity basins that emphasized the pink patterns in the white-and-pink marble walls, and there were peach-colored candles around the oval-shaped Jacuzzi.

Sarah knew she was pretty, but at the same time, she was not vain. But the effect of the candlelight on her skin could only be described as sensational. She looked at herself in his arms and found she had never looked more beautiful. Realizing that this was not because of the candles but because of her love for him, she lifted her face to search his, and her head began to swim as she found him again profoundly fascinated.

Chuck had prepared the setting, but he wasn't ready himself for the outcome.

"You never looked so… so… delectable and … especially the peachy candles... add a hue to your skin that is so delicious… like a sun-kissed fruit that smells sweet and inviting to, uhm… eat, and…"

He trailed off, clearly overwhelmed, the color of his ears only to a small part owed to the light of the burning candles. Sarah still had not guessed if he wanted to charm her for a round or two of love-making or if he wanted to spoil her after the most taxing 24 hours of her life. But she didn't want to give him any wrong signals, so when he began to talk about peaches, she instinctively pressed her thighs firmly together and then laughed at herself.

But, hey, so what? If he wants to entice me to make love until the sun rises, I will be his peach enthusiastically. In Chuck, I trust to revive my spirits.

"I got carried away… again," he lamented and then laid out his purpose for the lovely setting he created.

"Sarah, you had an impossibly challenging day. I only wanted to pamper you, that's all. Wanted to make you feel worshipped. You should relax. If there's a romantic undertone, I like that, honestly, but only to make you feel loved and desired, not that you have to make love with me. You should feel totally pampered. … I said that already."

She stroked his cheek, wondering how such a man could have been single, available, and ready to fall in love with her.

Jackpot, she thought. But no reason to intervene on my behalf this time.

"Hey, it's OK. I love it. You're so good at it that I have a feeling you did this before and that, sorry, makes me jealous of every girl who ever got that treatment from you," she began, but he interrupted her.

"No, no, Sarah. I never did something like this before. Some things are truly for you and you alone. I kept these with me until... the real one came along."

God, is it good that he is still carrying me! My knees would turn to jelly and give in.

She hung in his arms comfortably and overlooked the bathroom. A massage table that had not been here before stood in the spacious bathroom, but it made sense since he promised her a back massage. Then she noticed the bubble bath in the Jacuzzi.

"How did you do that?" Sarah exclaimed, stunned.

"I put some bubble foam into it," Chuck said, not getting what was so interesting about it.

"Chuck, if you put some regular foam bath in a jacuzzi, due to the very nature of it, it'll bubble in a way that you can have a foam party in the whole suite," she explained, giggling over the image in her mental cinema.

"Then I guess I've been lucky. I found the foam in those cabinets. The hotel certainly has selected only those who are… errm… compatible…"

"Compatible," she resounded with a chuckle and tousled his curls with a hand. "I'm happy you and I are compatible."

She gave him a quizzing look before the toothy grin could split his face in half.

"What next? I'm too heavy to be carried forever."

He retorted, and Sarah cheerfully rolled her eyes. He made a cultural reference again. She had no idea what it was, but she would take the time to learn.

"You ain't heavy, you're my lover."

•••••••••••••••••••

A/N (2) Oh, oh, pretty woman: The last words of rock classic 'Oh, Pretty Woman' which marked the highpoint in Roy Orbison's career, released in 1964 and reaching #1 in the US and the UK.

A/N (3) You ain't heavy, you're my lover: Released in 1969, 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother' became a worldwide hit for The Hollies, where one Elton John played the piano.

A/N (4) You ain't heavy, you're my reader: It is my honor to reply to every review.