A/N: Here we are. Finally. The end. When I started, I had no idea it would go on for this long. I've thoroughly enjoyed writing Second Chances, but every story must have, at some point, a conclusion.
Thank you for following along for so patiently. As one guest reviewer put it (quite correctly) the delivery of this story has been glacially slow. Ironic in some ways, considering how quickly the plot moved along.
And thank you all for making this my most reviewed, most favorited, most followed tale.
I'll use this opportunity to thank michealfmx, my beta. Without his patience and support over the past few years, I wouldn't be the writer I am today. (Such as I am.)
And many thanks to Zettel and Grayroc, not only for their suggestions on improving this tale, but also how their writings (and that of so many others on this site) have inspired me to add to the lives of the characters we love so much.
I don't own Chuck et al.
Enjoy!
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Second Chances: Epilogue
One year later.
Sarah feels his eyes upon her, certain he's just entered the room although she'd neither seen nor heard him do so.
She doesn't turn, just keeps her eyes fixed on the group of teenage girls in her fourth and last self-defense class of the day.
A part of Sarah's business that had gotten off to a frustratingly slow start.
Until the incident, that is.
…
Late one night, after they'd left a club where Chuck had taken her to dance, they'd been suddenly confronted by two thugs, one with a gun, the other with a knife.
Sarah had previously told Chuck that the show of weapons on the criminal's part was designed to intimidate their victims into immediate submission. In effect, to paralyze their will to resist. She added that the first few seconds were the critical ones. Acting immediately, with zero hesitation would catch them off guard.
The man with the gun had, somewhat nervously, pointed it at Chuck, mistakenly believing he was the greater threat.
A serious mistake on his part.
In a blur of motion, almost too fast for the eye to follow, Sarah had grabbed his wrist, twisting it so the automatic pistol was pointing harmlessly straight up. The man's howl of pain was abruptly cut off as she grabbed the gun from him and soundly clonked him on the side of his head with it. The man fell face first, unconscious before he hit the ground.
She'd tossed the gun over to Chuck before she'd turned to face the other man. He, stupefied by the sudden loss of control and unexpected escalation, hadn't made a move, had just stood there with the wicked-looking blade in his hand. When he saw his partner collapse, he finally brought himself to lunge toward Sarah, his knife held out far in front of him.
Chuck had later told Sarah that, compared to her, it was as if the man was moving in slow motion.
She dodged his clumsy charge with ease, slashing down on his wrist with the side of her hand. The knife clattered to the ground as the man stumbled past. He turned to look at her, with fear in his eyes, then decided to run.
But his wise decision (the only one he'd made that night) had come much too late. And he was much too slow. He hadn't taken more than two steps when she caught up with him.
Grabbing his arm, she'd spun the man around, turned her back on him and, much to Chuck's amazement, flipped the man over her shoulder onto the hard pavement. The breath had whooshed from his body.
She'd leaned in and looking in the gasping man's eyes, had told him no uncertain terms that he and his partner should pursue a more honest type of employment. Forthwith.
Otherwise, she'd come back and show them how knives and guns are supposed to be used.
He'd managed a terrified nod, before she'd tapped him, hard, behind the ear with the butt end of his knife, which she'd picked up from the ground, rendering him unconscious.
She'd then retrieved the pistol from Chuck and, after having quickly disassembled it, scattered the pieces on the ground, keeping only the magazine which she'd slipped into her purse. The knife she'd propped up on the curb and, with a swift blow from her heeled boot, snapped the blade clean off.
There'd only been a few spectators this late at night, none closer than fifty feet or so. And neither Chuck nor Sarah had noticed any of them videoing the encounter. But at least one of them had called the police, for they could hear the sirens.
She'd grabbed Chuck's hand, telling him, as she tugged him along, that it would be best if they weren't around when the police arrived.
When he'd asked later why she hadn't used the gun for its intended purpose (much to his relief), she'd replied that the two crooks were rank amateurs, dangerous only in their ineptitude. She added that the idiot with the pistol hadn't even realized he had the safety on. And the other man had held his knife all wrong.
But then she'd firmly stated that, regardless, no one threatens her husband without paying a price.
It turned out that both men had a string of outstanding warrants. As well as parole violations.
Thus their chances of meeting Sarah again were slim to none, which, for their continued well-being, was just as well.
The next day a blurred, grainy video of the incident made its way onto YouTube. A film student, a devotee of the cinéma vérité school, had been looking for material and happened to catch the incident from a darkened alley across the street. The video went viral almost immediately.
Chuck had found it and shown it to her early the next morning. It was titled the Blonde Ninja. Fortunately, the quality was such that neither of them was readily identifiable. It was more of a blur of motion than anything else. Still, it aptly demonstrated Sarah's skills.
They would've likely thought nothing more of the incident had not a petite, young woman by the name of Alex McHugh walked into Sarah's business the next day. She was looking for work, having taught fitness classes for a previous employer.
Sarah had liked the young women immediately, despite the unpleasant connotations of her first name. Unfortunately, the business was just getting on its feet and couldn't support another employee yet.
Alex had thanked her graciously and risen to leave but had paused and turned back to face Sarah, looking puzzled. She asked if they'd met before.
Sarah had been about to say no when the young woman had snapped her fingers and asked if Sarah was the Blonde Ninja. It turned out that Alex had been one of the distant spectators that night. And she'd seen the video as well.
Sarah had been tempted to deny it was her, but didn't want to lie to Alex. She did, however, ask her to keep it quiet.
The young woman had readily agreed, making it clear she never had any intention of spreading the information. She did, though, have a proposition to make.
She'd told Sarah that the reason she was looking for work was that her former employer had been forced to close the business due to health issues. That and the building being razed for new condos. In an act of kindness, considering she could've sold it, she'd given Alex her entire client list. And on that list were a large group of women, of all age brackets, who were not only now looking for a new fitness center, but who'd also asked Alex's boss to add in self-defense classes.
Sarah was clearly capable of teaching such, so Alex floated the idea that they work together to build up Sarah's business.
The idea had been a good one and Sarah had eventually agreed. Alex would focus on the fitness side and Sarah on the self-defense side.
But only after Sarah insisted that, if matters went well, that Alex would become a partner, not an employee. She had, at first, resisted, but Sarah wasn't about to take no for an answer.
Things had quickly taken off after that, word of mouth rapidly bringing in more and more clients. To the point where there were waiting lists for both the fitness and self-defense classes.
That there were to be further consequences for bringing Alex McHugh on board became evident only later.
…
Right from the start of her very first class, Sarah had surprised herself at the fervor with which she taught. She came to realize that this was, in part, because she now had the chance to use her skills for a fine, honorable purpose.
To protect from harm, not to cause harm.
But she also felt a measure of personal responsibility. If one of her students was seriously injured...or worse...because Sarah hadn't done her job well enough, it would only add, in her mind, to the body count she was directly responsible for. The last thing she wanted was that extra burden in her life.
So she threw herself into her teaching, giving her students all that she could.
But she has to admit that this class has a special place in her heart
When she'd found out that there was to be a Samantha in this group, she'd been, at first, a little unsettled. And when she'd met her for the first, that disquiet had only grown.
The sixteen-year-old was tall, blonde, her natural beauty obscured by braces, topped off by poor clothing and hair choices.
It was as if Sarah was seeing her younger self in a mirror.
However, Sarah had quickly gotten used to it. Had, over the past few weeks, become very fond of all the girls arranged, at this moment, in a semi-circle around her.
But, if truth be told, she was a little fonder of her namesake.
She was eager to teach and they were all eager to learn. And none seemed to mind that Sarah gave just a little extra attention to Sam.
…
"Samantha, you have a question?"
"Miss Sarah, (Sarah was unsure how that form of address had started, but had chosen to let it slide) you told us that next week we'll learn what to do if a man puts us in a chokehold from behind. Since we're running a little early, could you tell us more right now?"
"I believe we can do better than that." Without turning, Sarah calls out, "Mr. Bartowski, since you've arrived early, would you mind joining us for a little demonstration?"
He walks further into the room looking a little sheepish, stands by her side.
"Girls, say hello to my husband, Chuck."
In a sing-song voice, they all chime in, "Hello, Mr. Chuck."
Sarah notices Samantha putting a little extra into her greeting. The girl looks a little starry-eyed, probably the beginnings of a little crush.
And why not? Chuck looks especially handsome in his black slacks and a button-down red shirt, topped off by the new black leather jacket she'd just bought him.
Sarah feels something stir inside. Something pleasant. Something…urgent.
Later.
He replies, a little embarrassed, "Hi, girls. I'm here to pick up your teacher. It's our first anniversary today. We're going out to celebrate."
There's a round of bubbly congratulations from the students.
"Chuck, the girls would like to be shown what to do if someone grabs them from behind. So I need you to be the bad guy here. Come up from behind me and wrap your arm around my neck, please."
He leans closer and whispers, "You sure that's a good idea? You know what happens when…"
Pleased by this reminder that his physical response to her has diminished not a whit in the year they've been together, she smiles, whispers back, "It'll be fine. You'll only have your arms around me for a second or two before I demonstrate how to escape. OK?"
He doesn't sound convinced, but acquiesces. "Alright. Just promise you won't squirm around too much."
"I promise."
Sarah turns to face her students, who've been hiding their giggles behind their hands as they'd watched the two of them interact.
In mock seriousness, she admonishes the group. "Settle down. And watch carefully. I'm only going through this once today. Next week we'll explore this and a few other methods in greater depth."
Another sing-song, group response. "Yes, Miss Sarah."
She turns on her back on her husband, says, over her shoulder, "OK, Chuck. Grab me."
He hesitates a second, then moves in and wraps his right arm around her neck, using his left hand to pull it tighter, but not overly so.
"The first thing you have to do when you feel his arm is bring your chin down so the attacker can't put pressure on your throat."
She does just that.
"Then you reach up and grab his arms with both of your hands. Pull down and step off to the right. This will throw your assailant off balance."
She demonstrates as the girls watch carefully.
"Then use your left hand to strike the attacker in the groin with all you might. Repeatedly, if necessary." She moves her fist quickly, stopping just short of actually striking Chuck.
Nonetheless, he flinches, exaggeratedly. The girls giggle.
"After you've hit him, his head will come down and you can use your left elbow to hit him in the face, as hard as you can."
She lifts her arm, pretends to strike him in the face. He plays along by snapping his head back as if he'd actually been hit.
The girls laugh again.
"Once you have done all this, his grip will have slackened and you'll be free."
Sarah gives the girls a stern look. "And what do you do then?"
They answer by rote. "Run away as fast as we can. Scream for help. Find some people."
"And this will work, why?"
"Because we never, ever put ourselves in a potentially dangerous situation, especially when we're alone."
"Good. You've been listening." Sarah smiles. "See you next week."
"Thanks, Miss Sarah."
"Bye!"
The girls rapidly file out, but Samantha hangs back.
Sarah had been especially pleased with her progress. Initially very shy, she'd gained confidence very quickly under Sarah's tutelage, and was now one of her best students. As a bonus, her self-confidence had helped to bring her out of her shell. It didn't hurt that the braces had also recently disappeared.
"Yes, Sam?"
She glances at Chuck. "Could we speak in private?"
He speaks up. "I'll go over there." He points to the opposite side of the room. "I've got some calls I need to make." He takes his phone from his pocket as he walks away.
"Miss Sarah, I just wanted to thank you personally for all you've taught me. Two days ago one of my friends was being accosted by a couple of the boys in the school parking lot. One of them had just grabbed her arm when I came up behind him and put him into the armlock you showed us a few weeks ago. I…persuaded…him and his friend to leave us alone. I think they're a bit afraid of me now."
"Will you get in trouble for that?"
"No, one of the teachers and seen what was happening and had been about to step in when I arrived on the scene. The two boys were suspended for a couple of days. And a few other girls asked where I learned stuff like that. I told them. You'll probably get some calls."
"Thank you, Sam. And I'm glad I was able to help."
When the girl doesn't make to leave, Sarah asks, "Was there something else?"
"Miss Sarah, could I ask you a question? I wouldn't normally do this, but it's not the kind of question I feel I can ask my dad."
Sarah had known for some time that Sam's mother was out of the picture. She didn't know exactly why and had tried not to pry. However, it was yet another thing she could empathize with.
"Yes?"
Sam hesitates before finally saying, "There's a boy I like, but until I did what I just told you about, he'd never noticed me. But today he made it clear that he would like to get to know me."
Sarah smiles. "Let me guess. The captain of the football team."
Sam shakes her head. "No, he's a bit of a nerd. Smart. Tall, a little clumsy, but really cute."
"So the question is..."
"How do I know if he really likes me? That he isn't just attracted to me for being some sort of badass, at least in his estimation?"
Sarah ponders that a few moments. "That's not an easy one to answer, but if I had to say something it would be this. Will he care for the you that you are? Not for whom he wants or thinks you to be?"
"How's he supposed to find that out?"
"If he talks to you, really talks. But even more importantly, if he really listens. If he shows that he wants to know you, not some image you may have projected."
Sam nods. "I think I see what you mean. But if he does want to know me, why did he ignore me until now?"
"Sam, have you considered that maybe he was too shy to come forward before? But that now you've impressed him to point that he finally realizes he'd better make some sort of move before someone else comes along?"
"Me, impressive?" She blushes.
"Absolutely. Think of the courage it took for him to approach someone like you."
"You could be right."
She leans in. "Could I let you in on a little secret? My husband is a nerd himself."
Sam stares at Chuck incredulously. "You're kidding. Right?"
"Nope. He's the best man I've ever known. Sad to say, it's ones like him that often get overlooked. Especially in school."
Sarah glances Chuck's way, smiles. He smiles back. "I knew a lot about him before we ever met, but I'd formed a negative opinion at one point. If I hadn't given him a fair chance, we might've never gotten together.
"Which would've been tragic."
"So you saying I should give this boy a chance? See if he cares about me?"
"It's your choice, but you might want to seriously consider it."
Sam ponders that for a few moments.
"Miss Sarah, could I ask you one more thing?"
"Of course."
"How long was it after you met him when you knew Mr. Chuck was the one?"
Sarah grins. "Let me see. Looking back, I'd guess it was about five minutes or so."
"What?!"
"Yeah, it surprised me too."
Sarah gently counsels the teen. "But our circumstances were a little out of the ordinary. And we were quite a bit older than you are now. So don't go thinking the same's gonna happen to you."
"OK, I got it."
Sam throws herself into Sarah's arms, hugs her. "Thank you, Miss Sarah. For everything. I'll go now so you two can have your celebration." As she leaves, she waves at Chuck. He returns the wave a little awkwardly.
Walking across the room across, he puts his arm puts around Sarah's shoulders.
"So, that's the girl you talk so much about."
"Yes."
"You were like her at that age?"
"Yes."
Shaking his head, he remarks, smiling, "I still find that hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it."
He pauses before asking, "Can you tell me what you two talked about?"
Sarah shakes her head. 'I'm sorry. It's a teacher-student confidentiality thing. But I will say this much. I advised her that, based on my experience, nerds should be given a chance. You never know where things may end up."
"And just did how did that work out for you?"
"Much better than I could've ever anticipated."
"I'm happy to hear that." He pulls her into a hug, quickly kisses her.
"Chuck, I'm all hot and sweaty."
"And, how exactly, does that make you less attractive?"
"You goof!" She pushes him gently away. "Let's head home. I'll need to shower and change. Then we can head off to Lou's Place."
He asks, hopefully, "Will you need any help showering? Maybe to help clean those hard to reach places?"
"I have no trouble reaching those places, thank you." She goes up on her tiptoes, gives him a quick kiss on the lips. "But I just might need some help later. You know, a long day at work often stiffens up the muscles."
"I'll be available. Just say the word."
"I'll hold you to that."
After setting the alarms and turning off the lights, they leave, locking the door behind them
"Oh, I forgot to mention that Alex is picking up her dad from the airport. They'll meet us at Lou's."
"That's good. It'll be great to see Casey again."
…
And that, of course, was the other unexpected consequence of having Alex McHugh enter their lives.
Shortly after Alex had come to work with Sarah, Casey had returned from an assignment overseas. He decided to visit his friends in California, so he'd booked off a week of the many weeks of vacation time he'd accumulated over the years.
Casey had left not too long after the CIA Director had grudgingly agreed to the terms that Alexandra Forrest had delivered to him. That General Beckman had torn a very large strip off of him for going after Sarah and Chuck (members of a joint operation, after all), had been an additional motivation to sort matters out quickly.
After guarantees were given in writing, backed up by the General's promise to keep an eye on matters, Sarah's promise had been kept as well.
The Intersect was removed, permanently, from the brain of one Charles Irving Bartowski.
Casey had been disappointed to see his hopes of a restored Intersect team dashed. But after Ellie had determined that the Intersect would've eventually damaged Chuck's mind, quite seriously, he'd accepted that it was for the best.
But with no Intersect, there was no reason for Casey to stick around. Castle was, by this time, fully dismantled and shut down, so Beckman recalled him back to DC.
Ellie had thrown a small going-away party for him. Everyone had chipped in to present him with a Desert Eagle Mark XIX as a gift. He'd been visibly moved by the thoughtfulness, but Sarah had thought he'd been even more affected by the framed picture of the whole Burbank crew that Ellie had given him.
Carina had printed up an all-access pass to Magnificent Millerland, which she'd given him with a promise that there would be some new rides if he chose to visit in the future. Casey had given her a long look, then nodded, before carefully folding the document and placing it in an inner jacket pocket.
At the end of the evening, everyone had, in turn, (over his protests) hugged him. The longest and the tightest one had come from Chuck.
Both men had quickly turned away after its conclusion, doing their best to hold back the tears everyone pretended that they didn't notice.
When he'd returned for his visit some three months later, he'd dropped in unannounced at Sarah's workplace, curious to see how things had turned out. He'd walked into the middle of one of the fitness sessions and been surprised at seeing a petite brunette conducting the class instead of the tall blonde he'd expected.
Something about the young woman and struck a chord with Casey. Sarah had introduced Alex to him and over the next few days he'd discovered that she was the daughter he'd never known he had.
He'd told Chuck and Sarah the story, how he'd left his fiancée in order to be accepted into NSA Black Ops. How, to qualify, Alex Coburn (his real name) had to "die" so that John Casey might be born.
Both had urged him to reveal himself to Alex. On what should've been the last day of his visit, he'd done so, his imminent departure serving as his avenue of retreat in case things went badly.
Initially, there'd been disbelief followed by understandable bitterness on Alex's part. But they'd worked through it. Casey had postponed his departure for another week and the two of them had spent much of their free time together, getting acquainted.
By the end of that week, Casey had made his decision. He'd confided in Sarah that he wasn't about to miss the second chance he'd been given to know his child. In nine months he'd be able to take his twenty and retire to California ("that liberal hippie hellhole") to be near Alex.
(That a certain redheaded DEA agent had chosen, after her latest brush with death and a long conversation with Sarah, to accept an administrative position based in San Diego, had also played a part in his decision.)
He'd made the flight as often as he could in the meantime, increasingly reluctant to return to DC.
There'd only been one fly in his ointment. The growing mutual attraction between his daughter and Morgan Grimes. But she'd put him firmly in his place when he'd stated his displeasure. In this, she could be just as intransigent as her father. He'd accepted his dressing down and made an effort to accept Morgan's role in his daughter's life. A teeth-grinding, growling, grudging effort, but an effort nonetheless.
Casey had called yesterday to confirm he was able to make the anniversary celebration. And that he'd booked a one-way flight.
Almost as an afterthought, he'd added that the CIA Director's latest high-risk mission (something he'd become notorious for) was rumored to have gone off the rails, spectacularly, in Kazakhstan. It was expected that the President would be asking for the man's resignation as early as tomorrow.
He'd paused before adding that Agent Alexandra Forrest, who'd been leading that ill-fated mission, was missing and presumed dead.
…
Thirty minutes later, Sarah, wearing the little black dress she'd bought for the occasion, applies the final touches to her make up.
She'd studiously avoided looking at the small, white, sticklike object sitting on the edge of the sink while she'd applied the finishing touches.
But now she's run out of excuses.
She picks it up, takes note of the symbol with mixed feelings, joy and apprehension, in pretty much equal parts. After wrapping it in a tissue, she slips it into her purse
He's on his phone when she enters the living room. He disconnects, looking at the screen disbelievingly for a few seconds.
But then he senses she's near. He lifts his head, a huge smile on his face. "Sarah, I just got some big news…"
His voice trails off when he sees her, or more accurately, gawks at her. His phone tumbles from his hand, fortunately landing on the area rug rather than the hardwood floor.
She walks closer, putting a little extra sway into her hips. Gently, she takes her hand and pushes up his jaw, caressing his cheek as she does so.
He gives himself a little shake. "Mrs. Bartowski, you…that dress…you…look amazing."
"What? This little thing?" She twirls.
He's mesmerized. Finally, he manages a nod as he pulls her into his arms and kisses her soundly.
"You said you had some big news?"
He's confused. "What?" He pauses, thinking. "Oh, the Japanese company I was dealing with called and said they're very interested in the game. I pretty sure they'll go for it." He beams.
…
A month or so after Chuck had left the Buy More, he'd told her the premise of his game. Sarah had been a little dubious, but had supported him, nonetheless.
A blonde, female spy and her curly-haired male partner traveling around the world going on G-Rated missions and solving puzzles hadn't sounded like something that would fly. He'd said her life had, in many ways, inspired him.
She hadn't been sure just how he was going to use that inspiration to produce a fun and educational game for kids. After all, the majority of Sarah's life as a spy would definitely be rated as NC-17. Unsuitable for children, or most adults for that matter.
She'd gently reminded him of that, but he wasn't deterred.
When, a month ago, he'd shown her the more or less finished product, she'd been utterly charmed. The animated, cartoon-like characters, although not looking too much like Chuck and Sarah, had captured the essence of both exceptionally well. Their mannerisms, the way each of the characters moved, their speech patterns, were all very recognizable.
And the missions and puzzles had turned out to be very engaging, clever and funny. Partly due to Morgan's contributions. His childlike approach to life had served them well in this case.
…
"Congratulations, sweetie! I knew you could do it!"
"Sarah, I couldn't have done it without you. If you hadn't come into my life, I'd probably still be working at the Buy More."
"Nonsense! You're brilliant. You would've found your way without me."
"Not a chance." Grinning, he quietly sings, "Baby, you're my soul and my heart's inspiration."
It's a little game they've played for the last year or so. He sings a line with his lovely voice, and she tries to remember the song title and who sang it, all based on the music he's exposed her to since their marriage. Her excellent memory has stood her in good stead.
"Come on, you gotta make it a little harder than that. The titles right there. The Righteous Brothers. 1966."
"Correct! Give the lady a prize!"
"And what prize might that be?"
"Me, of course."
"Damn! I was hoping for a stuffed Panda or something!"
He takes her in his arms, laughing. Gives her a smacking kiss.
Glancing at his watch, he says, "We better get going. Either Casey or Ellie will haul us up on the carpet if we're late."
"OK." The smile falls from her face.
I can't put this off any longer.
"Chuck, before we leave, there's something I have to tell you."
He picks up on her serious vibe, quickly asks, "What is it?"
"Sometime in the spring, we're gonna need to hire a new instructor to take over the fitness classes."
He's alarmed. "Why? Is Alex planning to leave us? Is she alright?"
"No, nothing like that. After I train her, she'll be taking over the self-defense classes."
Puzzled, he asks, "Why would she need to do that?"
Sarah takes a deep breath. "Because I'll be on maternity leave."
She watches the wheels turning.
He sounds almost afraid to ask. He whispers, "We're having a baby?"
She nods, trembling, just a little.
"When…when did you find out?"
"Just now. I missed my period a few days ago and thought I should check. I bought one of those tests."
He nods, looking a little dazed.
Anxiety tightens her throat. "Are you OK with that? I know we hadn't planned it—"
He kisses her, sudden tears at the corners of his eyes. "OK with that? God, Sarah, how could I not be OK with that? The most incredible woman in the whole, wide world, my wife, is having our baby!"
At the look of pure, unadulterated joy on his face, her apprehensions start to fade away.
He kisses her tenderly, still smiling.
He pulls back excitedly goes on, "Sarah, we're gonna be parents. This baby is gonna be so loved. I promise that I'll do my best to be a great father. But you…you'll be even a better mother."
She tries, but fails, to keep her self-doubts from her voice even as she returns his smile.
"You're sure of that?"
He pulls her closer. "Sarah, I don't have even the slightest doubt."
She looks up into his eyes. "But how, Chuck? How can you be so certain?"
"Because you're you, Sarah. That's why.
"Right from the start, you were willing to put my safety above that of your own. You openly defied those who, at one time, had dictated your every move. You threw your old life away. So we could be together.
"All this for a man you'd only known for a few days.
"Since then, you've stood by my side. Picked me up when I failed. Forgave me when I was an idiot. You've wept with me. You've laughed with me.
"And when I needed you, really needed you, you were always there. Every. Single. Time.
"You were willing to die for me." He pauses. "But the even greater gift is that you were willing to live for me, for us."
She blushes. "Chuck, stop. You're making it sound like it was all one-sided. It wasn't just me. You've done all that, and more, for me too."
He gently kisses her forehead. "Thank you for saying that. But the point I'm trying to make is this.
"You've shown me again and again and again just how much you love me. It would be utterly inconceivable that you could possibly love our child any less.
"And you, Sarah Bartowski, are simply incapable of failure when it comes to the care of those you love."
"But what if I'm not any good around children."
He laughs. "Baby, that's one thing you don't have to worry about."
She looks up at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"You. With Samantha. You should've seen yourself. I don't know what you said, but it was like you were some sort of…kid whisperer. It was easy to see that she respects and adores you. And it's not just her. You're great with all the kids.
"Now, before you say anything, I'm not saying that a teenager is the same as a baby. But what I witnessed with Sam tells me you're gonna be just fine. Better than fine. Fantastic."
She shakes her head in wonder.
Softly, she asks, "Chuck, sweetie, how do you do that? Every single time I doubt myself?"
"What?"
"Give me strength and courage. Confidence."
"All I do is remind you of how marvelous you really are."
She goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
"Thank you. And I love you, too."
He raises an eyebrow, chides her gently. "Hold on there, missy. While I appreciate the kiss, I believe you're being a little presumptuous. I didn't say I loved you."
She grins. "Yes, you did." She kisses him again.
"Well, I'm still not convinced. But I'm willing to let you keep on trying to change my mind."
"Challenge accepted."
Another kiss, this one much longer, breathtakingly so.
"OK, I'm beginning to think you may have something there. Perhaps we can continue this discussion later this evening?"
"Sounds good to me."
He's suddenly serious. "Sarah, I know this whole parenting thing is a little scary, but please remember. You won't be doing this on your own."
"I know it still isn't completely safe for your mom and Molly to be here, but there's a woman living across the courtyard who's gonna by your side every step of the way. Given that she's a doctor and has a head-start on the expecting thing will be super valuable. She's gonna be ecstatic that her best friend will be having a baby at pretty much the same time."
She raises an eyebrow. "Ya think?"
He chuckles. "I guess that was pretty obvious, wasn't it?"
As Chuck had predicted, her friendship with Ellie had continued to grow to the point where Sarah wondered how she'd ever gotten along without it. Aside from Chuck, there's no one she spends more time with. Or is happier to be around.
"As for me, I'm gonna read every book, go with you to every class, watch every video," he pauses, appears momentarily nauseous, "even the birthing ones, just so I can be there for you. Every minute of every day. Whenever you need me."
She blinks back her tears. "Kiss me, Chuck."
He leans closer, his embrace a little tentative, almost as if he's afraid he'll hurt her.
I'll need to show him he doesn't have to worry about that.
Later.
At the touch of his lips on hers, all her vestigial misgivings are chased from her heart.
I can do this.
We can do this.
After a few minutes pass, he pulls back, chuckling gently.
"What?"
"I just thought of something. Whomever our child brings home to meet the parents is not gonna have any idea of what's about to hit them. I can just imagine how they're going to react when you decide to interrogate them."
He smirks. "When that day comes, I'm gonna need you to promise that there won't be any truth serum involved. Or knives."
And just like that, the vision of this future, their future, hits Sarah so powerfully that it takes her breath away.
A little over a year ago, her life was a hollow shell. She was just going through the motions, resigning herself to a future seemingly devoid of hope. Purpose. Love.
To find herself here, in the arms of the man she loves more than life itself, almost seems like a…dream.
A silent thanks bubbles up from her heart, directed to that most unlikely of persons.
Alexandra Forrest.
If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have ever known what it was like to have someone love me with his whole heart, his whole soul, his whole strength.
I wouldn't have a family and friends who hold me dear me despite all that I've done.
I wouldn't have a home.
I wouldn't be having a child to love and protect.
She pulls herself a little closer, rests her head on his chest. Hears the beat of his lovely, loving heart.
He tenderly kisses her hair.
Thank you, Alex, wherever you are.
You threw away your chance.
And gave me mine.
My second chance.
THE END.
—
A/N: This will be my last novel-length tale, at least for the foreseeable future.
I do have some ideas for a series of one-shots. And I'll add to the Plan universe. Maybe even add to this story. I'll have to see.
But that won't happen for some time.
I'm eager to hear how you feel about Second Chances now that we've reached the conclusion. If you've been sitting back, waiting for this to finish before reviewing, now's your chance.
A few thoughtful words are a small price to pay for all the heart and soul we writers pour into our work.
Again, thank you. So very much. From the bottom of my heart.
Au revoir,
Wayne