New Memories: A Bartowski Christmas

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: Enjoy part 4, y'all. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own the show and I'm not making money.

I've got dinner on the stove.

Chuck smiled down at his phone and typed back a quick response: Be there soon.

When he looked up at the cashier, the man was staring blankly at him.

"Uh…what? Sorry. My wife."

"I said that will be seventy-five even."

"Seventy-five even?" Chuck asked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "Wow. What are the odds of that happening, huh? That's pretty cool."

"Mmhm." The man took the cash, tore off the receipt to give it to Chuck, and pushed the bags across the counter. "You have a nice night, sir," he drawled.

"Uh, thank you. You too. Merry Christmas."

"Mhm."

Chuck made a face and walked away, shaking his head. 'Tis the season for grumps, he thought to himself with a grin as he left the department store and headed for his car.

He'd had a long day at Carmichael Industries, as it seemed hackers were working over time during the holiday season, and Sarah could only do so much to help on that front. So he'd sent her home a little early. That also meant he could pick up a few small gifts for her on the way home without her knowing.

He knew she was fretting about Saturday, the potential meet-up with her mom and sister for the first time in months, and she didn't remember the other times. The only memory that remained was when she'd betrayed her handler by saving a baby, left said with her mom, and disappeared into the shadows again, over five years ago. Everything else was gone. The reconnecting. The tentative relationships forming. All gone.

He couldn't imagine how conflicted she was. And confused and flummoxed and terrified. It was all he could do not to call Emma and tell her they would have to try it another time when Sarah was ready.

But Sarah was thinking about it a lot. He saw it on her face when they were working, sitting across the table from each other, as she flipped through files while Chuck did research. She'd seemed so distracted ever since they'd talked about meeting Emma and Molly, and Chuck felt helpless.

He didn't know what to do to make her feel calmer about it. Telling her how well she'd gotten along with her mom in those months between their reunion and Quinn taking her memories wouldn't work, Chuck had decided. It didn't matter whether she'd gotten along with her mom or not, because either way, Sarah couldn't remember it now. All it meant was that Emma was in a better place than she had been five years ago when there was all of that tension, but Sarah—Well, she was in the same frame of mind as she'd been then. It was like she was starting from square one while Emma was starting from…square three? Or four?

And it wasn't like he could really be of any help anyway, considering Sarah had never really shared with him much detail about what things were like between her and her mom before Operation Bartowski began. They'd never gotten to the place where she'd opened up to him about that fully. And Emma definitely hadn't. Even if she had by some off chance, it wouldn't enlighten him on Sarah's point of view any.

Chuck shook his head and started his car, looking over at the box that was sticking out from the top of the bag. The lopsidedness of who remembered what had been the story for everyone, though. She hadn't known Chuck at all, whereas he was filled with the memories and emotions of five whole years of loving her, losing her, finding her again, marrying her, starting their life together…

Emma and Sarah would just have to work at it. That was all there was to it. At least this time, Sarah at least knew Emma and Molly existed. Everything else would fall into place.

Chuck had hope.

He always had hope.

}o{

As he stepped into their apartment, he was warmed by the smell of his favorite vegetable stew. The scent of cooking beef filled his nostrils and he couldn't help but hum happily. "Hey, baby."

Sarah leaned over the bar of the kitchen and smiled. "Hey. You're home."

"I am."

She walked around to kiss him softly and he tasted wine on her lips. "Mmm. Cabernet? Starting without me, eh, Mrs. Bartowski?"

With a chuckle, she reached back and handed him a glass. "Already poured you one, doofus. I was just waiting for you to get home." She patted his cheek affectionately and peeked into the bag under his arm. He turned away out of habit, shielding the bag and narrowing his eyes. "Hey. No. Sneaky."

"I am a spy."

"Yeah, well…no spying on Christmas."

"Well, I saw LEGOs and I know those aren't for me, so technically I didn't see anything too spoilery." She grinned and went back into the kitchen as he put the bag down, stirring her stew and taking a long whiff of it. "Who are the LEGOs for? I'm all for more rainy day activities, but I was thinking more like poker or a puzzle, maybe. You know…movies. Not really a LEGO type of girl. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Um…" He took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on the bar. "They're not for us. It's a gift for Molly."

The dubious smirk left her pretty features and she was suddenly wearing her spy mask again. She'd never fooled him with that, and she must have known it by now, but there it was anyhow. Perhaps habit. "Oh."

"Apparently she likes doing things with her hands. She's been taking apart her toys and putting them back together again, according to your mom, so I thought she would like to build something out of LEGOs. It's a…a castle. So I thought that'd be fun." He cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Chuck, I'm fine. I just—I forgot about Saturday for a second there."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I think we've talked it to death, don't you?" When she looked up at him, he could tell she wasn't angry with him, or even angry in general. She was just being candid, open.

Chuck shrugged a little. "I'm just saying… If you need to talk some more, I'm here. And if you decide you aren't ready to see them yet, so be it. We'll try again later. I don't want you to feel like everyone's pushing you."

She gave him a dubious eyebrow raise.

"Sarah, I mean it. Your mom knows this isn't easy for you. More than anything, I just want you to feel comfortable, to do things on your own terms, when you're ready. Your mom feels the same way."

"You've talked about it a lot, I assume?"

Again, she wasn't angry, just curious, and maybe a little tentative. "Not a whole lot, no. Every time she's called to ask how you're doing, I've told you about it. It's only been a handful of times."

Emma would call him on weekends here and there, and while she never outright asked if she could talk to Sarah on the phone, Chuck could always feel how much she wanted to. Instead, they chatted for only a few minutes and left it at that.

Sarah nodded and lowered her gaze to the stew. "I hate this."

"What?" Worry prickled at the back of his neck and he swallowed, trying to keep his features level as he walked around the bar and into the kitchen, stopping at her side and putting his hand on her back.

"We're in a really good place, you and me." Her blue eyes met his and she smiled. "Better than good. And I'm happy. It's just that every so often these things pop up that remind me that not everything in my life as as good as you and me. This. Us. There's always more for me to deal with. What else is going to pop up after I meet Emma and Molly on Saturday? What's next? Who else am I going to find out I had a relationship with in the last five years that I don't remember now?"

He rubbed her back gently. "Well, uh…I've been right by your side for the past five years, and I'm pretty sure you've about covered it." She glared a little. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly.

Sarah just leaned against him, letting him support most of her weight as she snuggled into his embrace and sighed. "I know it's too much for me to ask for, but I wish everything about Quinn and what he did to me would just go away. I just want to be left alone and happy."

"So you don't want to see Emma and Molly?" He hated feeling dumb, but at the moment, he was having a hard time following the point of what she was saying.

"I do. I just…don't like that it's so hard for me. I don't like that I feel like I have to. I—God, I don't even know what I'm saying. I wish I could just show up and not be scared about it. And act like I did before I lost my memory."

"You'll get there."

"I know I will someday. But I want to just…be there now. You know?"

"I know," he said, squeezing her tighter. "But you've got support."

She pulled back a bit and looked up at him. "Yeah. You hungry?"

"Like a bear waking up from hibernation."

Sarah snorted cutely. "I don't think I made enough food, then."

Before she could move away, he kissed her cheek slowly and gave her another squeeze. "I'll set the table."

As Chuck carried out his task, he wished there were a way to make all of this easier for her. She was right. While things were fantastic between them, and while she and Ellie were almost sisters and things seemed good even with Morgan, and with Alex as well…Things just seemed to keep popping up to put that thread of doubt in Sarah's mind.

He'd seen it enough times now, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was that she was doubting. He was sure it wasn't about whether or not she knew he loved her. And she loved him, too. There was no doubt about where they stood there.

But then…what was it?

He grinned at her as she joined him at the table, the large pot of stew in her hands. And as they sat down to chat comfortably over their dinner, Chuck stifled his worry as best he could with the silent promise that he would find out what was giving his wife doubt. And then he would destroy that doubt. Obliterate it. Pulverize it.

Maybe it just took getting this meeting with Emma and Molly out of the way.

A/N: Chuck the Doubt Terminator. Hasta la vista ... doubt-y.

Please review. Thanks!

... ... ... I'll be back.

(I had to.)

-SC