A/N: College Baseball TMI is taking some time off. After the on-air blunder last time, the CB-TMI crew were encouraged to get some counseling. We hope to have them back soon. In the meantime, today we have a short and needless Public Service Announcement from Captain Obvious. Take it away CO! Thanks, Mr. Narrator. Hello, I'm Captain Obvious. Obviously. My obviously obvious message to everyone today is please don't complain about the chapter title being obvious. Did you really think that the story wasn't going to arrive here? It was obvious. There were all sorts of obvious hints that observant readers obviously found. Right. So, sit back and enjoy the ride to the obvious result. It's in the chapter title, after all. Obviously.

Disclaimer: It's the same old song and dance. I don't own Chuck and I make no money from Chuck. See what I did there?

Chapter 29 – We Are the Champions

April 3

Chuck sat quietly, watching his four friends as they stared intently at their computer screens, typing away. Dinner had been strange. There was an odd tension in the air surrounding the CATS. Not anger, at least, as far as Chuck knew. They hadn't been focused on anyone else in their extended group, so he figured that whatever was going on, it didn't involve the other singers. Or him or Morgan, either. Everything had seemed fine the last few days since he'd gotten back from the Washington State trip. Until dinner. Then the subtle tension. Sarah had asked him to accompany them back to their suite, but hadn't offered any explanation beyond that, sounding distracted. So, Chuck came along and waited. And wondered.

Not having anything constructive to do, besides trying to figure out what was bothering his friends, his thoughts drifted back over the events that had transpired since he'd had to leave his game on Saturday.

The trainers and medical staff had immediately cleaned and sterilized his hands and drained the blister before soaking the injured finger in warm water and Betadine for 10 minutes. Once that was completed, they'd covered the injury in special blister ointment and then an airtight bandage. The next day, the bandage was removed and his finger was checked and cleaned and fresh ointment and a new bandage was reapplied. He'd be meeting with the medical staff each day to repeat the process until they deemed it unnecessary.

Stanford had won the final game of the series on Sunday behind Hector Batista's stellar pitching over six innings. He'd only given up one run in all that time and Stanford had put the Cougars away 14-2 to complete the sweep. After showering and gathering their gear, they'd boarded the bus to the airport and made their flight back to San Jose, but by the time he and Morgan got to their room, it was after 10:30pm. The pair dumped their stuff and just crashed. Chuck managed to text Sarah his apologies, promising her that he was fine and he'd see her the next day, but that he was so tired that he wouldn't be good company that evening. The sweet kiss and heart emojis she sent back to him put a smile on his face that he still wore as he drifted off to sleep filled with dreams of his blue-eyed girlfriend smiling at him.

He and Coach Casey had devised a workout routine that would minimize the pressure and torque on his finger and blister. No lifting weights or throwing a baseball until he was medically cleared to do so. That meant calisthenics (with a padded glove on his left hand to cushion his finger) and running. Wonderful. But also, swimming which actually was kind of great. Therefore, Monday morning had found him in the pool at Arrillaga Outdoor Education and Recreation Center wearing his full body suit and swimming laps under the watchful eye of Coach Casey and one of the staff nurses. Coaches Klein and Kelca were covering the standard morning weight routines for the other players. It wasn't lost on Chuck that having Casey there was a clear sign about how much Coach Graham wanted him healed and back out on the pitcher's mound as soon as possible. After his strenuous workout, he'd shaved and showered. Once he was dry and dressed, the nurse removed his bandage. She and Coach Casey checked the healing blister, then the nurse sterilized it, reapplied the ointment, and covered it with a new bandage. Chuck went to breakfast and on to his lab to start the day's work. That afternoon, he'd gone to practice where Coach Casey taped his left hand into the padded glove and led him in a tough round of exercises and a lot of running. He went through the shower and bandage routine for a second time that day. By the time Chuck was finished, the full team practice was over and Morgan was ready to walk back to their dorm and on to dinner. The routine was repeated the next two days.

When the two friends exited the dinner serving line, it was Chuck's turn to receive personal attention from Sarah, mirroring his reaction to her sprained ankle back in October. She'd met him just outside the serving line, smiled at him, and requested that he give up his tray so that she could carry it for him to their table. He'd blushed and shyly smiled at her gentle, but insistent, demand that he permit her to help him. Well, maybe not so gentle, since she'd leaned in and whispered something in his ear when she'd taken his tray.

"Let me help you, Chuck," Sarah had softly said. "Don't make me Larkin-ize you and drag your silly butt over to the table." Her sweet smile was at odds with the words he'd just heard.

He'd smiled and snorted a laugh. "How could I possibly refuse such a kind offer?" He'd grinned. "And live to tell the tale?" He'd added. Much more quietly.

"That's the spirit," she'd grinned with her tongue between her teeth, before prancing off to their table with his dinner in hand. He giggled and followed her. Her prancing did things to his insides.

As soon as she'd reached her destination, she'd placed his tray on the table before turning and pulling him into a tight hug, warning him not to use his left hand to hug her back. Leaning back to look him in the eye, Sarah dove back in, this time kissing him so hard that he forgot how to use his arms all together. He forgot pretty much everything else besides the feel of her body against his and her lips on his. Breathing wasn't even a concern for a while, until it was. That's what finally forced them apart. Neither of them had heard the catcalls and whistles directed their way while they were occupied with their reunion.

"Damn, you two," Carina groused. "You curdled my drink," she frowned. "And I'm drinking water!" That got another round of laughs and fresh catcalls. Chuck was still a bit dazed.

"71% of the Earth is covered by water," he intoned vacantly. "60% of the human body is also made up of water." Giggles rippled around the nearby tables.

"Then you better drink up, Chuckles," Carina smirked. "Something tells me that you still don't have enough fluids in you." When Chuck absentmindedly nodded, the giggles erupted into laughter again. Sarah was blushing, but smiling as she tugged his elbow, encouraging him to sit down.

As soon as he'd taken his seat, Sarah and the CATS demanded to see his injury, even though he told them it was covered in a bandage. Four stern looks caused him to quickly surrender, holding up his hands to placate the roommates. After a thorough inspection, all four women decided the work was 'satisfactory' and he'd been allowed to start to eat his dinner. After a few bites, Chuck had offered his in-person congratulations for the Songbirds semifinal victory, which everyone at the two tables happily accepted. When he began to get up to do his promised victory dance, the CATS had forcibly restrained him. They told him that he didn't need to be doing any dancing and risk hurting his hand any more than it already was.

"What does my hand have to do with me doing a victory dance?" He'd asked. "I use my feet, not my hands."

"We're just erring on the side of caution, Curls," Zondra had replied seriously, trying to keep the smile off of her face. Chuck had snorted his disbelief and began to stand again.

"Please don't, sweetie," Sarah had pleaded. She'd outrageously pouted with puppy-dog eyes, blinking rapidly as if she were fighting back tears. "It would upset me if you were to get hurt dancing for us." By that time, she was biting her lower lip to keep from smiling.

"Hurt? What the …?" Chuck had shaken his head. "And puppy-dog eyes? Really?" He'd pressed his lips together. Two could play that game. He knew that much. "Fine, I won't dance. Hmpf!" He'd pretended to grump.

"Yay!" The Songbirds cheered. Chuck tried to hide his grin. He knew, by now, when they were teasing him. There was a second "Yay" from some people at the surrounding tables.

"Nuts to you," Chuck had looked around, faking a stern glare. "Just for that I don't think I'll dance for y'all ever again. So there," he nodded dramatically.

"Yay!" The Songbirds and some of the surrounding tables cheered.

"Oh, wow! So nice." Chuck had looked affronted. He'd twisted his lips to the side and slowly shaken his head, again. "This is how you treat a wounded man? Such caring." He'd huffed in derision.

"For the sake of humanity? Yes." Carina had answered.

"Well. If all of humanity depends on it, I'll guess I'll forgo the celebration. This time," Chuck had agreed.

"Yay", was the reply. Chuck had smirked his amusement at the continued teasing.

"You can congratulate me anytime you want, baby," Sarah had breathily stage whispered so everyone could hear her.

"I can do that, sweetie. No problem," Chuck had grinned as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Maybe, the dancing wouldn't be so bad, after all,' Carina had whined as she grinned at her two friends. They'd ignored her.

After they'd finished eating, Lou Palone took out her laptop and showed Chuck and Morgan the video of the Songbirds' winning performance. The two friends were amazed by the video. Morgan was very happy for the girls and told them so, once the video had ended. Then he'd given Alex a long congratulatory kiss. Chuck's first reaction was to replay the video, watching it a second time with a huge smile on his face.

"My God, y'all," Chuck had exclaimed. "You showed me the songs at your dress rehearsal last week, but this performance was lights out better!" He'd smiled and shaken his head in wonder. "You were even more fierce than when I saw you. And those dresses … Wow! Just … wow."

"Nothing about our shoes, Chuckles?" Carina had teased. Chuck had 'tsked' and shaken his head again.

"I saw them, Carina, sure," he answered. "But, y'all were so mesmerizing that I couldn't take my eyes off of you to look at your shoes hardly at all. Maybe I'll be able to look at them eventually. After watching this video many more times. Y'all are amazing." His eyes widened as he pressed his lips together and shrugged. Sarah's face broke into a huge smile hearing the sincerity in his voice. He always spoke straight from his heart, she thought.

"Thank you, sweetie," Sarah had grinned after giving him an appreciative kiss. "We're glad you liked it."

"Y'all earned it. I'm just saying what any other person watching that video is thinking," he'd said. "And it was more like I loved it, just to be clear." His grin had been quickly covered up in another kiss.

Tuesday and Wednesday (today), were repeats of Monday without the video watching and related banter. Chuck was pulled from his reminiscing by Sarah's soft exclamation and a click of her mouse.

"It's done," Sarah said, her voice quavering, a mixture of excitement and nervousness evident behind her words. The other CATS all nodded in agreement. They'd completed whatever it was they were doing, too. As soon as the roommates looked at each other, they began to cry, jumping to their feet to give each other tight hugs. Soon, all four were wrapped together, crying all the while. Chuck had no idea what was going on, but felt that he was intruding on a private moment somehow.

"I'd better go and give y'all your privacy," he said quietly as he stood and edged toward the door.

"Don't you dare leave, Chuck!" Sarah sniffed. She took her arm from around Carina's shoulders and reached her hand out to him. As soon as Chuck grasped it, he was pulled into the tearful mass between her and Carina. He was still clueless.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. "Why are y'all so upset?"

"We j- just ap- applied to gra- graduate!" Sarah stuttered as her crying intensified.

"Okaaay. What's the problem? Shouldn't y'all be celebrating instead of crying?" Chuck was confused. "Isn't it exciting to be graduating?"

"Y- Yeah, Curls, it is exciting," Zondra rallied. "But it means the end of the CATS, too."

"Why?"

"Amy will be going to work," Carina explained. "We'll still be here."

"Okay?" He was confused.

"Amy won't be h- here, Chuck," Sarah whined, sniffing.

"Yeah?" Still confused.

"Didn't you get upset when you graduated, Chuck?" Amy asked. "Not even a little?"

"I was twelve," Chuck said flatly. "I was just happy I made it through," he shrugged. That got a few snickers.

"Now I need a tissue," Zondra complained. "Does anyone have some handy?" Her question was greeted by "Nuh-uh" or "Nope".

"I've got my handkerchief on me, if you want to use that," Chuck offered.

"Gross," Zondra frowned.

"What's gross about it?" Chuck asked. He got "really?" looks from his friends. "Come on, it's clean. I promise. I change it out and have a fresh one with me each day. And I haven't used this one yet today, I swear." He pulled the cloth square out of his back pocket and held it up with a question in his eyes.

"OK, fine," Zondra sniffed. "I'm more worried about stopping the snot running down my face than I am about encountering one of your boogers." Chuck frowned at the implied insult. She took the handkerchief and wiped her face on one corner before loudly blowing her nose.

"Nice," Chuck deadpanned.

"Hush," Sarah scolded him. "Now, I need it." Zondra gave the handkerchief to her and she followed suit, using the next corner of the cloth. It was passed from friend to friend until Carina offered the now soggy cloth back to Chuck. He gave it a dubious look, eventually taking it between two fingers and holding it like it might bite him.

"Thanks," Chuck said, frowning. "I'll cherish this handkerchief forever. I won't wash it. Instead, I'll preserve it under glass."

"Eww," the CATS all said in unison.

"You're a weirdo, Chuckles," Carina wrinkled her nose in disgust and snorted a one note laugh.

"What a goof you are, I swear," Sarah giggled watching Chuck shove the sodden cloth into his back pocket. He knew he'd have to throw his jeans into his clothes hamper, too.

"I may be gross and weird," Chuck nodded. "But I did manage to get y'all to stop crying." He winked and grinned crookedly, his eyes twinkling.

He was right; he had distracted them and they'd stopped crying. Sarah's heart swelled and she smiled at him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"Thank you, sweetie," she whispered.

"My goodness, Curls. You're getting pretty sneaky," Zondra smirked.

"Our bad influence is rubbing off on you," Amy added.

"Well, at least one of us is rubbing off on you," Carina snarked, delighted when both involved parties blushed.

"Not to change the subject or anything," Chuck said to chuckles from the CATS. "What brought all of this on, anyway?"

"We needed to apply to graduate, Chuck," Sarah explained. "The deadline is next Friday, April 12th. And when we did our applications online, it all finally hit us."

"I can understand that, but why'd y'all wait so long?" He scratched behind his ear.

"We had to meet with our advisors and go over our records to make sure we were on track and up-to-date," Sarah continued. Chuck nodded his understanding. "That's what we've been doing over the last couple of days since we got back from Oregon. Why'd we wait so long? The fact is we really didn't wait. We needed to get through Winter Quarter or have a good idea what our grades would be before we could apply. Yeah, we could have applied back in February or March, but we've been focusing a lot on the Songbirds and our competitions. The seniors last year went through the same thing. They were running around in April trying to get everything done, too," she shrugged.

"So, you're all set?" Chuck raised his eyebrows and looked around at his friends. "All you've got to do is finish out this quarter and you're home free?"

"Yup, that's right, Curls," Zondra nodded. "We're home free."

"Are all y'all planning on taking part in commencement? Cap and gown? Walking?"

"Absolutely, Chuckles," Carina said emphatically. "We worked our butts off for these degrees. We're definitely walking and strutting our stuff." Before Chuck could make another comment, Sarah interrupted the conversation.

"Just as soon as we take care of the ICCA finals," she announced somberly. At that, all four women got determined looks on their faces.

"Any hints as to what y'all are planning for the finals?" Chuck asked, curious.

"We really turned Beca loose on this song," Sarah admitted. "It's not so much of a mash-up this time as a blending." When she saw the confused look on her boyfriend's face, she elaborated. "She took six songs and layered them together, Chuck. More songs and we'll have more people sharing the lead vocals to go along with it. It won't be Zondra and me handling all the main vocals like in the quarters or semis."

"That sounds neat," Chuck said. "I have no idea what all of it means, but it sounds cool. I can't wait to see and hear it."

"Don't worry, sweetie," Sarah said as she smiled and cupped his cheek. "About three weeks from right now, you'll be doing just that." That's what I'm hoping, at least, she thought to herself.

April 4

The Songbirds were off. Out of sync. Sarah thought she knew why, too. Dr. Beckman was in attendance, silently watching, but Sarah didn't think she was the one causing the problems. At least, not the main thing causing the problems. No, she thought the issues stemmed from the fact that the CATS were stepping aside in favor of the underclassmen taking over the lead vocals. Be the main focus of the audience and the judges. Yes, the song was more complicated, as were the dance steps, than what they'd done to that point, but they'd been practicing this performance off and on for a while now. Having the finals looming on the horizon has just brought everything into stark focus for the group and that focus was breeding a bad case of nerves.

"Let's take a break everyone," Sarah announced, walking over to the advisor. "Five minutes."

"They're off today, Sarah," Dr. Beckman stated the obvious.

"Yes, ma'am, they are," Sarah agreed. "I think it's just a case of the jitters."

"Do you want me to talk to them?" Beckman asked.

"Let me try first. If that's OK," Sarah said and the advisor nodded. "If I can't calm them down, then I'll ask you to help. Is that alright?" The older woman nodded, smiling, seeing the young group leader taking charge in such a sensible way. After excusing herself, Sarah walked back to where her suitemates were sitting together.

"Stand up with me, please?" Sarah asked.

"What's up, Blondie?" Carina wondered.

"Pep talk time, Red," the blonde answered. The three older women understood and nodded their agreement. Sarah returned to the middle of the room and they stood in solidarity.

"Would everyone gather around for a quick second?" Sarah asked. The other eight singers reluctantly dragged themselves up and went to stand in front of the seniors, fearing what they were going to say. Seeing the looks on the girls' faces and their body language, Sarah gave everyone what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Please don't worry. I'm not upset," Sarah began. She spread her arms to include her roommates. "We're not upset. Not at all. We know that we're asking a lot of you. Putting you center stage in the spotlight. Putting the performance on your shoulders. We know that's a lot. A big change from what we've been doing." She looked around at the underclassmen and saw some of them nodding.

"We're asking a lot. But not too much. You can do this. You're ready," Sarah and the CATS all nodded. "We've been singing and winning using Beca's arrangements for a while now. This is just another one. And it's a great one. Some of you have had lead vocals before, so you know you can do this. This isn't the CATS' group. It's all of our group. We're all Songbirds. We've been together since last fall. Working and supporting each other. We all won the quarters and semis, together. And we'll win the finals the same way. Together." Now the CATS were all smiling. So were the rest of the women.

"Let's crush this," Alex growled. That drew growls and giggles in equal measure.

"Time to kick some ass!" Lilly said, loud enough for everyone to hear for a change.

"No need to shout, Lilly," Lou said, laughing. The rest of them joined her.

April 7

It had been a rough weekend for Stanford against UCLA. Mac Henderson pitched a great game on Friday evening, going seven and a third innings and keeping the Bruins off of the scoreboard. He was robbed of a well-earned victory when the bullpen gave up two runs in the top of the ninth inning, allowing UCLA to tie the game. Stanford pulled out a win after a wild bottom of the ninth. John Sload struck out swinging at a ball in the dirt. When the Bruin catcher couldn't field the ball, Sload took off for first and was safe when the catcher's throw went wide and into right field. It was scored as a dropped third strike and throwing error on the catcher. What it meant was Stanford had a runner on first. Chris Ebersole struck out swinging attempting to bunt, but Sload stole second in the process. Carlos Gomez, the Stanford catcher, flew out to left center which prevented Sload from advancing. It was then two out. UCLA decided to intentionally walk Mike Millard to increase their chances of retiring the side. Dave Bice worked the count full (3-2) before drawing a walk to load the bases. Two outs and the bases were loaded. It was time for some heroics and DH Bobby Malcolm delivered. He hit a single that scored Sload, giving Stanford the 3-2 win. And a big sigh of relief. It was a good thing, since the other two games were a disaster.

Chuck's blister had healed sufficiently that he had been given permission to restart his weight training on Saturday morning as long as he wore the padded glove that Coach Casey taped on his hand. If the blister didn't reappear over the weekend after the weight training, the medical staff would release him to start throwing on Monday. He was on the mend but nowhere close to setting foot on a pitcher's mound yet.

Hector Batista got the ball for Saturday's game, in Chuck's place, and he gave it right back to UCLA. He only lasted into the fourth before the UCLA bats sent him to the showers without recording an out in that inning. By the end of the fourth inning, the score stood at 5-4 in UCLA's favor, but the Bruins weren't content and managed to continue their dominance of the Stanford pitchers by plating four more runs in the fifth inning and another two in the seventh. Saturday's final score was 5-11 in favor of the boys from Los Angeles.

Chuck felt terrible. He didn't know if he would have done better or not, but he knew that his being hurt didn't help the team or his fellow pitchers. He vowed to make sure he didn't let them down again in the future.

Unfortunately, UCLA wasn't done slapping around the Cardinal pitchers. They proved that fact in the final game on Sunday. Chuck's injury moved the pitcher's up in the rotation, so Erik Miller, a mid-week starter, got the ball and pitched four solid innings. He gave up three runs, one of them unearned. Coach Graham had gotten nervous and turned to the bullpen. Good decision or bad, it cost the hometown boys. When Miller left the game, Stanford was ahead 4-3 and it stayed that way until the seventh inning. UCLA broke it open in their half of the frame, driving in 6 runs on five hits and sending 11 batters to the plate. The Bruins added another run in the eighth, but the damage had already been done. Stanford could only muster three runs of their own, making the final score 7-10 in UCLA's favor and giving the Bruins the series 2 games to 1. Losing the series hurt Stanford's pride. At the conclusion of the disappointing weekend, Stanford's record stood at 20-5 overall and 7-2 in the PAC-12 conference.

Chuck was determined to get back in fighting form. He would be on that mound where he belonged next Saturday.

April 13

Chuck had stuck to the promise he'd made to himself. When the medical staff had cleared him to begin throwing the previous Monday, after inspecting his whole hand before concentrating on his middle finger, he threw himself into his preparation with a vengeance. The maintenance workouts that they had devised had worked. The calisthenics, running, and swimming kept him in excellent shape. After his initial return to weight lifting, he was only one weight plate off of his normal routine when Casey tested him early Monday morning. Before long, Chuck was able to re-add those plates. By Thursday morning, Chuck was doing his normal workout. Graham and Coach Bradbury had been more cautious with his throwing regimen. He looked fine, but they were still planning on limiting his pitch count during Saturday's game.

The most important thing, from Chuck's perspective, came on Monday afternoon when he asked to speak to the team.

"I'm sorry that I let everyone down," Chuck had apologized. When Coach Graham tried to interrupt, Chuck looked at him pleadingly, waving him off. Graham sighed, but nodded.

"I wasn't paying enough attention. I was too focused on things other than baseball. Yeah, I know I've got a lot on my plate, but that's no excuse. I made a commitment to play for this team and it's my responsibility to fulfill that commitment. And I didn't do my job properly, so I let you down. I'm sorry," Chuck had hung his head in shame before lifting it again and looking at each player and coach, in turn. "We're a team. This isn't about me. We're like a machine and my stupid blister caused that machine to throw a gear. I'm not saying I'm better than anyone else. I'm not saying my playing would have made any difference or not. I'm just saying that I didn't do my part like I should have done. I swear to you that will not be the case going forward. I'll always keep my eye on the ball from now on."

No one blamed him or was angry. His injury could have happened to any of them. All the same, they understood what he was telling them, too. Take responsibility for your mistakes and do what you can to correct them. When he had gone around the room offering his hand to shake, to seal his renewed commitment, every man present shook it without hesitation. More than a few of them had patted him on the shoulder or back while they were at it. The last person to shake his hand was Coach Graham.

"You know they didn't need you to apologize to them, right?" Graham had said. "They understand about injuries."

"Yes, Coach. I know that. They may not have needed to hear it, but I needed to say it," Chuck replied. Graham had just nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

After Chuck had turned away, Graham had seen his coaching staff all nodding their heads.

The stands at Klein Field were packed. Everyone who was wearing Stanford cardinal colors wanted to see if Chuck Bartowski's finger was healed and how he would do after the two-week layoff. Sarah was in the middle of the Bartowski Backers section. Ellie and Devon were on her left. The CATS were to her right. Drs. Beckman and Montgomery were behind her with Kathleen McHugh. The other Songbirds and friends were arrayed around her. Other familiar faces were sitting farther away, but still close enough to help the Backers cheer.

Chuck had finished his warm up with Morgan in the home bullpen, down the first base line in foul territory, and had made his way back to the dugout. The rest of the team was completing their own pre-game preparations. He stared off into space, gathering himself. The week had been tough. He pushed himself to make sure he was ready for the game today. Coach Casey and the medical people had kept a close eye on him, but didn't do anything to stop him. He wasn't taking any chances this time and had a hand towel and a can of antiperspirant ready in the dugout, just in case, to keep his fingers dry between innings.

"Ya ready, Chuck?" Morgan said once he was kitted out in his catching gear.

"I'm ready, Morgs," Chuck nodded without his normal smile. Coach Bradbury noticed. So did Graham.

"Are you OK, Chuck?" Coach Bradbury asked, concerned.

"Yes, Coach. I'm fine. Raring to play," Chuck responded quietly, but Bradbury was still worried.

"Talk to me, Chuck," Graham butted in.

Chuck sighed. "I just don't want to let the team down again, Coach." He shrugged.

"Then don't," Graham said curtly. Chuck's head jerked up in surprise. "Go out there and do the best you can. That's all you can do and that's all anyone asks. Win or lose. Just give it your all. You're on a limited pitch count, so just go out and pitch. Have fun."

"I will, Coach." Now Chuck was grinning. "They don't stand a chance." He bounced his eyebrows and both coaches laughed.

"No, they don't," Graham shook his head. "That's the spirit. Go get 'em."

Chuck pounded his fist into his glove and trotted onto the field, being careful to avoid the foul line. No reason to anger the baseball gods on this day.

Sarah was chewing on her lower lip and nervously bouncing her knee. Her fellow Backers all noticed and shared amused grins. When she saw Chuck trot out onto the field to start the game, she took a deep breath. Then she popped in her earphones and checked the volume on Big Mike's broadcast. Here we go. Good luck, baby!

"… Henderson took care of the Washington hitters last night, only giving up one run on three hits while earning six strikeouts against just a single walk. The offense gave him a ton of run support which led to a Cardinal victory, 8-2, the Huskies having tacked on another run in the top of the ninth when a trio of singles scored pinch hitter Colton Cassinelli before Cody Jensen came in to get the final two Washington batters to fly out ending the game."

"Now for today's game. We're happy to see that Bartowski's blister has healed and he's back on the mound to resume his spot in the weekend rotation. The word is Bartowski worked like a demon to get ready for this start. The jury is still out on whether or not he was successful. It looks like he's finished with his warmup tosses, so court is now in session. Here come da judge!"

"First up for Washington is center fielder Kaiser Weiss. Bartowski looks in. Gets the sign. Nods. The windup and the pitch … A strike! A four-seam fastball right at the knees. Alright! Grimes nods and throws the ball back. No emotion from Bartowski. He looks in and gets the sign with a nod. Windup … aaand the pitch … Weiss lifts it foul over the first base dugout. It looked like another screaming fastball belt high this time. I wonder if Bartowski is climbing the ladder here? We'll see. And here it comes … A ball! Another fastball. Chest high this time, but just a little too inside. Yup, I was right. He was going up the ladder. The count's now 1-2 (1 ball and 2 strikes) in Bartowski's favor. What'll he show us this time? He's got the sign … the windup … throws … Strike three! Bartowski got Weiss to swing at a slider that fell off the table down and out of the zone. Made him look foolish with that pitch. Now there's a nod from Bartowski. He's got to be feeling good about that outcome."

Sarah was squealing in delight. Chuck looked great! At least to her untrained eye. When she looked at Dr. Beckman, she received a big grin and a thumbs up. Turning forward again, she cheered.

"Way to go, baby! Go get 'em!"

Devon leaned over and spoke in Ellie's ear. "That squeal was pretty impressive, babe," he teased. "She might just give you a run for your money at the Squeal Olympics." Ellie turned to look at her boyfriend and snorted.

"A lot you know," she seemed to frown. "Pfft! She's just an amateur. I'd give her points for enthusiasm, but she needs to work on her form, volume, and sustainability before she ever sees the podium in that competition," she grinned. Devon just laughed and kissed her.

"Ramon Bramasco, the Huskies shortstop, is in the box. Bartowski's got the sign again. He winds up and throws … strike! Bartowski gave him that nasty curveball of his. Buckled the batter's knees, but he didn't swing. Too bad for him. Grimes throws it back. The sign. Windup. The toss … a ball! Grimes called for a slider that was just a little too low and outside. OK. Now the count is 1-1. Bartowski looks in for the sign. He goes into his windup. And the pitch. Another slider to almost the same spot, but high enough to be in the zone and get the call from the man in blue behind the plate. Bramasco just watched it smack into Grimes' glove. The bat never left his shoulder. You can't hit it if you don't swing at it, son. What am I sayin'? That's good for us, ain't it? Anyway, let's check out the next pitch. Bartowski's goes through his motion and throws … a ball! Just a little too inside that time. Bramasco took a step back to be on the safe side. That makes the count 2-2. There's the next pitch … a strike! Bramasco swung way early on Bartowski's wicked change-up for strike three! Two down and nobody on."

"Fuck yeah!" Sarah swore before she remembered where she was and who she was with. She heard a lot of chuckles.

"Such a potty mouth you are," Carina laughed. "I thought we raised you better." Zondra and Amy were laughing, too. She could hear the others around her joining in.

"Oh, you did, Red. You did," Sarah snarked back. "If you hadn't, I'd talk like you, sounding like a sailor and making everyone blush."

"Oh ho!" Ellie guffawed. When Carina nonchalantly shrugged, the group erupted in laughter again. Sarah was tickled. She was having the time of her life enjoying the game and the company.

"Catcher Nick Kahle is up next. Bartowski's got the sign and is ready to pitch. A ball, low and inside! Not the way you want to start a batter, but we'll see. He leans in. Grimes signals the sign. A nod. He sets and he throws. Another ball! Sh—um … shoot! 2-0 now. Bear down Bartowski. Show us what you got. It's another ball. 3-0. Ya gotta get it in the zone sometime, son. That's how this works. Come on now. He rears back and throws. A strike this time! Finally. It was a four-seam fastball screaming through the zone before the batter could react. 3-1. OK, get another one. And he does! Another strike! That looked like his two-seamer. Fast with a lot of movement late over the plate. It appeared to tie Kahle up that time. Good stuff. Now it's full, 3-2. Get 'em, boy. Bartowski's ready. The pitch … a ball! Damn! He walked him. They tried another slider and Bartowski just missed his spot. It was low and Kahle managed to lay off it. He goes to first. One on with two outs."

"Oh, shit," Sarah complained. "Stupid f—ah … jerk. He shoulda swung at that." Her correction caused another ripple of laughter.

Dr. Beckman leaned down near her left ear. "I think I may have created a monster here," she grinned broadly to more laughter.

"I don't care even a little bit," Sarah shrugged. More laughter. A lot more. Ellie giggled and hugged her. Little brother, this is definitely the girl for you, she thought.

"DH (designated hitter) Colton Cassinelli is hitting for the Huskies. Bartowski has to pitch from the stretch now. Grimes gives him the sign. He looks over at first to check on the runner. Sets and throws. A ball! Crap! Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball, ball! Come on kid! Bear down! In the zone! He's ready. The sign. Check on Kahle over at first. Set and toss. A strike! It's about damn time! Cassinelli just looked at that curveball! It started out of the zone and dropped into it. A perfect 12-6 curve. Bold choice for the Stanford battery, but a good one. The count's now 1-1. They're ready. Here's the pitch. Strike! A beautiful two-seamer that the batter idly watched slap into the catcher's glove. Excellent! Count's now 1-2. Cassinelli is digging in. Bartowski gets the sign. Checks the runner. Sets and throws. Cassinelli swings! A strike! He swung on it and missed! It was that screaming four-seam fastball. Bartowski threw it right by him! Fantastic. Three out! It took Bartowski 19 pitches, but he looked fine. The coaches and the trainers are checking him out before he can get in the dugout. Yup! They're nodding their heads and patting him on the back. It looks like there's no blister issues. Hopefully, it'll stay that way."

"Woo Hoo!" Sarah cheered as she jumped to her feet and danced in place. Much to the amusement of the others in the Chuck cheering section.

"You should save your hoochie coochie dance for Chuckles after the game is over," Carina yelled. Ellie just about choked on her drink, while more than a few Backers snorted in laughter. Sarah's face turned bright red and she quickly slumped back in her seat in embarrassment. Ellie gave her another hug and a sympathetic smile.

"It's OK, Sarah," Ellie confided. "I know how you feel. I'm so proud of him and happy that so many people are here cheering for him." She paused for a beat. "And dancing for him," she added while her eyebrows bounced. Sarah had smiled at Ellie's supportive words, but now was grimacing again.

"I can't help it, Ellie," Sarah apologized. "I want him to do well so much."

"We can tell, sweetie. We can tell," Ellie giggled again. Sarah's blush intensified, but she giggled, too.

Stanford went ahead 2-0 in the bottom of the first inning, thanks to hits from John Sload and Morgan along with a walk to Dave Bice. A wild pitch by the Huskies starter scored Sload and moved both Morgan and Bice up a base. After Bobby Malcolm had popped up for the first out, Daniel Shaw had hit into a fielder's choice at second base. When the Washington second baseman threw the ball to first to get Shaw out, Morgan scampered home for the second run. Larkin grounded out to shortstop to end the inning, but Stanford was on the board and in the lead.

Chuck retired the side in the top of the second inning on 19 pitches, again, with three more strikeouts. Unfortunately, he led off the inning by giving up back-to-back doubles, both hits came on first pitches, that scored the first Husky run. Later in the inning, he gave up a single on a full count that scored the second Husky run. The game was now tied, 2-2. Chuck shook the runs off and got the last two batters in the frame to strike out, only using 8 pitches between them to do it.

Stanford went quietly in order in their half of the second inning, keeping the score tied. Chuck was quickly back on the mound to start the third inning. The second inning had bothered him. It seemed to him that the Washington hitters were either seeing his pitches better or outguessing him. Neither situation was acceptable to him, so he and Morgan put their heads together with Coach Bradbury to alter their strategy. Their plans bore fruit in the third inning.

He struck out the Huskies first hitter, Ramon Bramasco, for the second time. Nick Kahle, the catcher, managed to tag a 2-2 change-up into center field for a single, but that was the extent of the damage in the inning. Cassinelli flew out to left field on a 1-0 slider and Connor Blair, the Washington right fielder, flew out to Stanford's Chris Ebersole in right field to end the inning. Chuck had only used 13 pitches that inning, bringing his total to 51.

A walk to John Sload and a single by Morgan gave Stanford two men on, first and third, with no outs in the bottom of the third. Dave Bice's sacrifice fly put Morgan on second and scored Sload to make the score 3-2 in favor of the home squad. No one else was able to cross the plate, so the stage was set.

"OK, Cardinal fans. Our boys have pulled ahead of the Huskies, 3-2. Bartowski is sitting at 51 pitches and one has to wonder how long Graham and Bradbury are going to leave him out there after the two-week layoff. We'll have to see."

"Starting off the inning for Washington is their first baseman, Jonathan Schiffer. He hit one of those doubles back in the second inning and scored the second run that tied the game for the moment. What will Bartowski and Grimes have ready for him this time? We don't have to wait long. Bartowski's got the sign. The windup and the pitch. Strike! Chest high on the inside edge of the plate. Schiffer even leaned back a little on that fastball. Another sign and a sharp nod from the pitcher. Here it comes. Strike twooo! That one was belt high on the inside edge again. Another screaming four-seamer. Schiffer didn't move a muscle. 0-2 and we're ready to go again. Strike three! Oh wow! Bartowski threw that 12-6 curveball again. Schiffer thought it was up and out of the zone. It may have started out that way, but it sure didn't end up there. A strikeout on three straight pitches and Schiffer didn't offer at any of them. Wow! OK. That's one down."

The Bartowski Backers were cheering, but their noise was lost in the general clamor coming from the Stanford fans. Sarah and Ellie shared a look, both of them bouncing in their seats.

"Left fielder Rollie Nichols is in the batter's box and digging in. The Stanford battery is ready to go. The pitch! He swings! And misses. Strike one. Grimes throws the ball back. Bartowski gets the sign. Nods. Sets. The windup and the throw. A ball! Just a little too far outside and a touch too high. That brings the count to 1-1. Time for another pitch. The sign. He winds and pitches. Another ball! This time, his slider fell out of the zone before it crossed the plate. It was a good thought, but Bartowski's execution left something to be desired there! (Sarah glared and frowned when she heard Big Mike say that.) The count is now 2-1. Bartowski steps back off of the mound and goes to the rosin bag. He takes a deep breath and gets back on the bump. Toes the rubber. Takes the sign. Sets. Pitches. Aaand, he made contact! Right to Millard at second. He throws over to first in time to make the out. Must have been a change-up because that was a weak dribbler and was easy to field. OK. Two out."

Sarah had counted only seven pitches and Dr. Beckman concurred. Chuck was on fire. And so was she. She was actually embarrassed about how turned on she was right that minute. There would be a shower in her near future. An ice cold one!

"Bartowski is ready for the next batter. Ben Baird, the Huskies third baseman, is ready, too. Bartowski settles himself, looks in, and gets the sign from Grimes. He sets. The windup. And the pitch. A foul! Baird hit it foul over the third base dugout and into the stands. Bartowski's up 0-1. He gets the sign and nods. Sets. Winds. Here's the throw … a strike! That was one of Bartowski's patented screaming four-seam fastballs. Baird swung, but missed when it came in under his bat. Bartowski's in command now, 0-2. Time to put Baird away. Bartowski looks determined. Grimes gives him the sign. He shakes it off! That's the first time today he's done that! What is he thinking? We'll soon see. Grimes tries again and, this time, Bartowski nods. He sets and goes into his windup. The pitch … It's a doozy. Baird swung so hard he fell down. Doesn't matter. It was already past him and in Grimes' glove by the time he reacted. Bartowski threw another of his four-seamers. Right down the middle, too. Shoved it right down his throat. If Baird had reacted faster that ball might still be airborne looking for a place to land! No matter. The inning's over. Three up and three down. Only 10 pitches! Bartowski's best inning all day! Atta boy! Welcome back, Chuck Bartowski. Yes, Sir!"

"HeeYah!" Sarah yelled as she jumped to her feet. She quickly looked around, pointing her finger at the surrounding crowd. "Not a word!" She scolded. "Not a word!" People were grinning and laughing, but a lot of them held up their hands in surrender. Sarah nodded before turning around to renew her cheering.

"Way to go, baby! I'm so proud of you!" she yelled. Sarah wasn't the only one standing and cheering, even among the Backers. Ellie and Devon were right beside her doing the same thing. As were Drs. Beckman and Montgomery and the CATS and some others. But she was definitely the loudest. It was noticed. When she looked down to the field again, she saw Chuck standing outside the dugout with his hands on his hips, grinning at her and shaking his head. Caught out, she blushed crimson again, but blew him an exaggerated kiss. He blushed himself, but laughed and took a big foppish bow, before disappearing into the dugout. Much to the delight of the crowd in attendance. Sarah continued to blush when she sat back down, giggling in embarrassment. Part of her wasn't embarrassed at all. Then she tuned back into Big Mike's radio broadcast.

"… Apparently some of the fans were happier than others with young Bartowski's performance so far this afternoon …"

When people heard Big Mike over the radio, their friendly laughter returned. As did Sarah's crimson cheeks.

The coaches were true to their word and took Chuck out of the game before the next inning, more concerned about not overdoing it and causing any more blisters. His final line was four innings pitched, two runs on four hits with nine (!) strikeouts against only one walk in 61 pitches. This was the Chuck Bartowski that Coaches Graham and Bradbury had been talking about. The Chuck Bartowski that the team had seen in the fall when he detailed exactly how he was going to take care of each hitter and then doing exactly that. The kid who'd gotten drafted in the first-round last year. Was he perfect? No, those hits in the second inning showed that, but he was pitching with his whole entire self for the first time since the fall. What would his next game be like?

The Stanford bullpen took care of Washington for the rest of the game. No one wanted to deny Chuck this win after his injury and his determined performance on the mound. There were high-fives all around when the game was over.

April 24

It had been a crazy week and a half. After Chuck's triumph against the Washington Huskies, Hector Batista had his own great game on Sunday afternoon, pitching five solid innings of shutout baseball. Stanford won, 6-1, completing the sweep. After a great weekend, the Tuesday midweek game was a letdown when the team lost to UC Davis 6-8.

Then the team left on an early trip to Eugene, Oregon to play the Oregon Ducks in a rare Thursday-Saturday series (April 18-20). Chuck and his teammates took a late afternoon nonstop flight out of San Francisco on Wednesday, arriving in time for a slightly delayed dinner and a good night's sleep. They'd spent Thursday morning working out at the Ducks' field, PK Park, which was across the Willamette River from the University of Oregon proper, before going back to their hotel to rest, eat, and prepare for the 7:05pm game that evening.

Mac Henderson had another good game. He pitched into the sixth inning before giving up a double which forced him from the game without recording an out in the inning. It was still enough to get him the win, 5-4, when the double came in to score later in the inning and the Ducks tacked on another run against the Cardinal bullpen in the seventh inning.

Sarah watched the PAC-12 stream of Chuck's own game downstairs in the Roble Hall common area with her suitemates and a bunch of other students, listening to Big Mike as had become her habit. There had been a lot of cheering, but the Songbirds present were very careful to curb their enthusiasm since their final competition was only a week away. Chuck was even better than he had been against Washington, going five innings and only giving up one run on two hits and four walks with six strikeouts. He had thrown a wild pitch which advanced a runner, but hadn't resulted in any runs being scored. The Stanford offense garnered most of the excitement, putting up twenty runs on twenty-four hits and four walks. Morgan, himself, had four hits in five at-bats and a walk, scoring three of the team's runs. The final tally was all Stanford, 20-5. Oregon's other four runs came on an eight-inning rally that fell well short of catching the boys in the cardinal jerseys.

Hector Batista had another great game on Saturday. He threw six more innings of shutout baseball, topping his performance the previous week, getting eleven strikeouts, a season high for him. The bullpen kept the door shut on the Ducks and the offense romped again, giving Stanford another sweep in the PAC-12 conference with a score of 10-0.

The team returned to San Francisco Saturday evening after the final game in Eugene, getting back to campus around 9:30pm that night. Chuck and Morgan dropped their stuff in their room and immediately left again. Morgan went to meet up with Alex and Chuck grabbed his backpack intending to head to his lab, after a short reunion with Sarah. The reunion turned out to be a bit longer than he planned and included her coming with him to his lab, not that he minded.

When they got to the lab, Sarah realized her plans for the evening weren't going to come to fruition when Chuck sat down at his desk and began to type furiously. Sarah wasn't happy, but she relented when she saw her boyfriend working. This was the first time Sarah had seen Manic Chuck. He went back and forth to the various tables and projects, picking up printouts and reviewing them before returning to his desk to resume his staccato typing.

"What's got you so busy, babe?" Sarah wondered. Chuck glanced over at her, but continued to type.

"Remember when I told you earlier in the week that I had made a lot of progress on my projects and would be able to start working on my write-ups early?" he replied, typing away.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'd gotten started on them before we left for Oregon. I took what I had written with me," he continued. "And I was able to write a little bit from memory," they both giggled, "while I was up there. So, I transferred it all back to this computer and I'm adding to it now." As he finished speaking, a huge yawn spread across his face.

"And you're adding to your being tired, too, Chuck," Sarah gently scolded. "I'm only giving you a little more time before I insist that you take a break and come relax with your lonely girlfriend."

Chuck wasn't so clueless that he missed what she was implying. "That's not even fair," he grinned.

"Nope, it isn't," Sarah grinned back. As she expected Chuck only typed for a short while before he gave in and joined her on the couch. His exhaustion kept things on a low, but still enjoyable, simmer for the remainder of the evening until his yawns forced them to walk back to the Roble Hall, hand-in-hand.

Chuck spent all day Sunday, outside of baseball practice, working on his papers. Monday brought a very rare afternoon mid-week game against the Gonzaga Bulldogs which Stanford managed to win, 11-10, after a bottom of the ninth rally that plated three runs. Chuck had hidden away most of the morning in his lab and raced back there after dinner that night to continue his work. Sarah was only a little frustrated with him because the Songbirds were only a few days away from when they were scheduled to fly to New York for the ICCA Finals. With Spring Quarter almost half over, everyone's academics were intensifying right along with everything else.

Stanford played San Jose State on Tuesday evening. The game was another victory, 15-7, which Chuck cheered for, but it was more time away from his lab and he was feeling the pressure. Not extensively just yet, he knew he had more time to complete his papers, but he could see the next milestone and he was anxious to get there. He wanted to get on with his research and be past everything else except for that and his eventual dissertations. Chuck Bartowski was getting impatient, he laughed at himself. The Stanford baseball season was going well, so far. They were 29-6 overall and 13-2 in the PAC-12. He was very happy about that. Happy to be contributing to the team, but he was also constantly thinking about his research. When Chuck wasn't playing or researching, he was thinking about Sarah a lot.

April 25

Chuck and Sarah hadn't had a lot of time for each other over the last couple of weeks. Schoolwork, baseball, and acapella practices all combined to keep them occupied and apart for more than either of them wished. Chuck had been very busy in his lab. Sarah had added extra practices in the evenings for the Songbirds. The women had been working hard while trying to be careful to not overdo it and have anyone get hurt, physically or vocally.

It was Thursday evening and Chuck found himself in a familiar place watching a familiar event, the Songbirds' dress rehearsal performance with Dr. Beckman. Nothing else was the same with this song, though. In Chuck's view, it was the best one yet. Gone was the fierceness and fire of the previous two winning songs. This one was more fun and playful. The CATS hadn't taken the lead, instead allowing the underclassmen to take center stage and shine. More women were helping to sing the lead vocals at different places. Aubrey, Chloe, Beca, Cynthia Rose, and Alex all had lead vocals at one point or another. The CATS hadn't been kidding, either. There were at least six songs that Chuck thought he recognized during the performance. Once the song was over, he stayed rooted to his chair, his mouth open in shock. When he didn't move after a long moment, Dr. Beckman looked over with concern and shook his arm.

"You OK there, Chuck?" Beckman asked.

"Huh? What?" he answered in a daze. Sarah was a little worried.

"I said, are you OK there, Chuck?" Now the advisor was grinning.

"Um … Yup! I'm … ah … OK," Chuck nodded absently. "It's just … wow! Just Wow!" The singers all smiled at his reaction.

"What did you think?" Sarah asked unnecessarily. Everyone could see his reaction. It was obvious.

"I loved it!" he gushed. "That was you! That was so you! My friends." The women looked a little confused, so he quickly went on. "That's what I see every day when I'm around you. Laughter. Teasing. Innuendo," he looked at Carina, who chuckled. "Fun. I know that y'all are also fierce, feisty, and independent women, but I see this side of you way more than I see that other side." He shook his head in admiration. "They're gonna be shocked. You're gonna shock them." He looked around at his friends. "You set them up twice with two fierce performances in the quarters and the semis. This is completely different. Good grief!" He laughed. "You're going to smoke them. Oh my God! I wish I could be there." He jumped up and hugged and kissed Sarah while she laughed in pleasure at his reaction and supportive words.

"Hey! What about the rest of us?" Carina complained. "Don't the rest of us get good luck hugs and kisses, too?" There was a chorus of "Yeahs". Chuck stepped back from Sarah and visibly gulped. There were quite a few predatory grins, including Sarah's.

"Sorry, babe. It looks like you're not getting out of here without wishing us all good luck," she smirked.

"If I must, I must," Chuck said, but he couldn't hide his embarrassed blush, much to the delight of his watching friends.

"That's a 10, for sure," Amy cackled to general laughter. Chuck grinned, a little nervously.

Each singer stepped up and received their good luck hug and a kiss on the cheek. Chuck was no fool and his heart belonged to Sarah anyway. That is until the CATS took their turns. Each of the senior women got their hug, but, instead of a kiss on the cheek, had grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips, starting with Amy. It happened so quickly that Chuck was still processing Amy's behavior when Zondra and, then, Carina repeated her actions. Sarah wasn't all together happy at her roommates taking advantage, but Chuck's obvious shocked reaction soothed most of her ruffled feathers.

"I've been wanting to do that all year," Carina chortled. Zondra nodded, but had the good sense not to push Sarah's buttons.

"I just bet you have," Sarah grumped, just this side of a growl. Chuck leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I'll give you another good luck kiss later, sweetie," he breathed quietly. His warm breath tickled her ear, causing her to shiver. Her face brightened and she nodded, smiling. Chuck turned to Dr. Beckman with a shy smile.

"May I give you a good luck hug and kiss on the cheek, too, Dr. Beckman?" he asked.

"You better," she grinned, while the girls all giggled. Chuck did as he was instructed, much to the amusement of the assembled women.

"Now all I have to do is figure out an extra special victory dance for when y'all get back," he said vacantly as he tapped his chin as if he was deep in thought. The girls all groaned, but laughed when he pulled an exaggerated pout.

"Not going to ask us about our outfits, Chuck?" Sarah asked mischievously, popping the 'k'.

"Nope," Chuck shook his head. "And nothing about the shoes, either." That got the girls laughing again. "You won the last two times when I didn't know. You'll win this time, too. Third time's the charm."

"You're such a goof," his girlfriend teased. He just grinned and shrugged to another round of giggles.

April 27

The University of Arizona Wildcats came to town on Friday and handed Mac Henderson a loss, 3-6. Stanford had been off kilter for a good portion of the game, giving up four errors. Arizona hadn't been lights out at all, but they did capitalize on each of the Stanford mistakes which eventually cost the hometown boys giving them the loss.

Chuck didn't pay a lot of attention to Friday's game. Oh, he was definitely aware of the scouting reports and he had watched the Wildcat hitters, but most of his mind was occupied thinking about Sarah and the Songbirds. They'd flown out from San Francisco right before noon and landed about 20 minutes before the game had started. Or so he'd guessed. With all of the money he'd helped them raise, they'd been able to book rooms in the Marriott Marquis Times Square. It was right next to the PlayStation Theater, the venue for the finals. The time change meant that they landed about 8:40pm ET, so they hadn't reached their hotel before 10:00pm ET or so, due to the normal airport crush and their shuttle bus having to navigate the New York City Friday evening traffic. Stanford's game wasn't over until 9:15pm PT (12:15am ET), so Chuck had refrained from calling Sarah and settled for sending her some texts with his news. Of course, the CATS had still been up and his girlfriend had responded almost immediately. Knowing they were safe and sound or as much as they could be in New York when Carina was involved, Chuck had spent a couple of hours working on his papers before going to sleep. Saturday dawned with Chuck reading a slew of texts from his absent blonde sweetheart as he and Morgan headed to their light pre-game weight lifting session.

Sarah told him that the CATS had checked in with Dr. Beckman that morning before taking the F train in the subway to downtown Manhattan to the famous Katz's Deli and having an 'authentic' New York breakfast, a bagel with lox and cream cheese and a cup of coffee. It took the other three, together, to keep Carina from recreating Meg Ryan's famous "When Harry Met Sally" scene at the actual table, much to the redhead's displeasure, but the relief of the others.

"You guys are no fun at all," Carina grumped.

"Yes, we are," Sarah disagreed. "We just prefer seeing more of New York rather than the inside of a police station." Their redheaded roommate's only response was to stick her tongue out at them and pout for the next fifteen minutes. None of them knew whether Carina would get in trouble for that stunt, but didn't care to find out, either. Chuck didn't know the movie, but he could imagine having to prevent Carina causing a ruckus of some kind in public, the thought made him chuckle.

Zondra had used her computer skills, in the days leading up to the trip, to help the roommates decide on their sightseeing agenda. After breakfast, they took the F train back to Washington Square Park for a short stroll through the park with a quick detour to see the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, scene of the famously tragic fire in 1911 that killed 146, most of them young immigrant women. It was a somber, but important stop for all of them. Anxious to see more of New York's unique spots, the foursome made for the 8th Street Station and the R train to reach the appropriately named Flatiron Building. A few pictures and they were back on the subway heading for Herald Square for the Empire State Building and Macys! The friends took in the magnificent views from the observation deck in the famous skyscraper. They all agreed it was a breathtaking introduction to the city. Sarah made sure to stop by the gift shop to purchase a souvenir tee-shirt for Chuck (and one for herself) and a book about the history of the building, as well.

After jaunting through the iconic Macy's department store, the girls indulged in a classic New York lunch, huge slices of pizza and cans of soda. Then they rode the subway up to Central Park. Zondra had found a self-guided tour app that she'd encouraged all of them to download to their phones. With the app's help, the friends spent the next two hours on a leisurely walking tour of one of the world's most famous parks. At the end of the two hours, they were pressed for time and had to forgo their planned window shopping walk down 5th Avenue. Instead, they opted to grab a taxi for a somewhat quick ride back to the hotel. On the other side of the country, Chuck spent his morning working on his research papers. About the time the CATS arrived back at the hotel, he was preparing to head over to the field to begin his pre-game preparations.

"Babe, we're getting ready to head over to the theater. Dr. Beckman suggested and we all agreed to lock our phones in our room safes, including her, to avoid anyone having any distractions," Sarah explained to Chuck during a quick call before they left, once he confirmed that he could talk. "We all want to be totally focused."

"That makes perfect sense to me, Sarah," Chuck admitted. "This is a big deal for y'all and you'll need your total concentration and commitment. I'm not worried, though. Y'all are going to be great. I can't wait to watch the video, but I wish I was there with you."

"Me too, Chuck," Sarah pouted. "I wish you were here, too. Or that I was there with you. Good luck in your game tonight. I know you'll be great, too."

"Thanks, sweetie," Chuck smiled into the phone. Sarah wished she could reach through the phone and kiss him. "You better go. I'll talk to you after my game and your competition are both over. I'll be thinking about you and wishing you luck. Bye."

"Same goes for me, baby. Good luck and I'll talk to you soon. Bye." I love you, she thought.

The Songbirds were in their dressing room getting ready. Earlier, the singers, Dr. Beckman, and the Stanford events crew had made their way over to the PlayStation Theater from their hotel next door. Beckman was taking care of business and the events crew was setting up in the designated area of the theater, while the women were fixing their hair, applying makeup, and changing into their outfits. They'd opted for a much more casual, but still unified, look for this performance in keeping with the fun and playful nature of Beca's mixed song. They were wearing black skinny jeans, either white or black tank tops, black vests or various blazers, dropped jackets, or bolero jackets with black wedge sneakers sporting white accents. Everyone had a cardinal bandana tied somewhere visible – neck, waist, wrist, or a belt loop. All variations on a central theme. They looked good. Very good.

Dr. Beckman returned to the dressing room and ran them through their initial warmups then distributed their choral gowns to keep the other groups guessing. There were the standard ten groups set to perform. Eight regional champions from around the United States, a single champion from the United Kingdom, and a wild card champion.

"This will be your toughest challenge, ladies," Dr. Beckman told them. "I know you'll all do your best. I'm so proud of your hard work and the huge effort it took everyone to get to this point tonight. Go out there and sing your hearts out, like you've done all season. Have fun! Let's do this!" Lots of determined nods.

"We can do this," Sarah chimed in. "Besides, Chuck owes us a victory dance." That broke the tension and everyone chuckled affectionately at the thought of their friend cavorting happily. It was in that mood that the Songbirds made their way to their assigned section of seats in the theater. When the clock hit 7:30pm, the ICCA officials announced the performance order. The Songbirds drew the eighth slot. Only the local group from New York University, the Northeast champion, and the group from Northeastern University, the Wild Card champion, were scheduled to perform after them. Not the best outcome, but not the worst, either. Showtime.

Knowing that the Songbirds' final competition had been going on for about a half an hour when he stepped on the mound to start the game, had thrown Chuck for a few batters. He got the first batter to line out Mike Millard at second, but the next two batters tagged him first for a double down the left field line then a triple down the right field line. Just like that Arizona was on the board. When the fourth batter grounded out to Bryce Larkin, the man on third scored a second run. After the following batter doubled to right center, Morgan trotted out to calm his friend down.

"Come on, buddy," Morgan said behind his glove. "Focus. Alex and Sarah will do great. You know you're going to be cheering for them. How about you give them something to cheer about in return, huh?"

"You're right, Morgs," Chuck nodded. "I'll get my head in the game. I promise." His friend nodded, slapped gloves with him and trotted back behind the plate. Chuck stepped off of the mound and rolled his shoulders before returning and getting back to work. The next batter hit a weak pop-up to Dave Bice in left to end the inning.

Stanford answered Arizona's challenge in their half of the inning, scoring three runs on two walks, a single, and two doubles. The game was on.

Chuck took care of the Wildcat hitters in the second with three strikeouts against only one walk. He was getting dialed in. Nothing happened for the Cardinal hitters when it was their turn, so he was back out before he'd barely had time to take a drink of water. Chuck and Morgan handled Arizona in the top of the third, too. Austin Wells, the opposing catcher, managed to draw a walk, but that was it for the visitors as the other batters grounded out, struck out, and fouled out for no result. There were things happening on the other side of the country, though.

The Southwest champions from Texas A&M were heading out on stage. That meant the Songbirds were next, so they made their way backstage to get ready. Sarah led them in their final warmups, while everyone tried to curb the sudden case of jitters that swept through the group.

"We've got this," Sarah smiled. "Everybody just take a deep breath and relax." When the girls all did as she instructed, she noticed Dr. Beckman smiling and nodding at her. "Beca created a great song for us. You guys sing it like crazy. Those poor other groups don't stand a chance. You saw them so far. We're champions already," she nodded and the women surrounding her nodded back. "Let's crush this! Then cheesecake!" Giggles.

They put their hands together, but before Sarah could say anything, Carina chimed in. "Two-inch heels!"

"Two-inch heels!" Everyone repeated with a giggle. Chuck had done it again and he didn't even know it. Beckman took the robes. It was time.

The Songbirds walked out on stage and the audience gasped. Good. They had been expecting them to be dressed more formally like they had been in the prior ICCA competitions. The women arranged themselves in three staggered lines with Aubrey and Chloe in the middle and Beca behind them. Beca blew the pitch pipe and counted out the initial tempo. They all began to sing the initial note. Then Aubrey started the lead vocals, slowly and gently.

Seems like everybody's got a price

I wonder how they sleep at night

When the sale comes first and the truth comes second

Just stop for a minute and smile

Chloe took over the second verse.

Everybody look to the left

Everybody look to the right

Can you feel that, yeah

We're paying with love tonight

Then Lilly rapped a counterpoint.

(It ain't ever about the money)

The tempo picked up and Chloe, being a contralto, handled the low notes of the melody. Their dance moves were perfectly choreographed. Everyone sang the next two verses.

It's not about the money, money, money

We don't need your money, money, money

We just want to make the world dance

Forget about the price tag

It ain't about the (uh) cha-ching cha-ching

It's not about the (yeah) ba-bling ba-bling

Want to make the world dance

Forget about the price tag

(Price tag, forget about the price tag)

Beca picked up the lead vocals, while other singers sang different counterpoints that kept changing, as the song continued to blend more and more songs together. It was far more complex than anything the other groups had attempted. Beca gave way to Cynthia Rose. Then it was Alex's turn. More and more songs were layered on top of each other. It was high energy and playful. These girls weren't angry; they wanted to have some fun. The audience felt every bit of it. Many of them were up and out of their seats dancing in the aisles. When the song ended, the response was immediate and very vocal. It may have been a competition, but the other groups had enjoyed themselves and wanted the Songbirds to know it. When the group trooped off stage, they were breathless with excitement. Only two more groups to go.

Dave Bice scored another run for Stanford in the bottom of the third after reaching base on a single and making it all the way to third on consecutive wild pitches by the Wildcats' pitcher then coming home on a sacrifice fly by Larkin. Chuck was rock solid in the top of the fourth, only allowing one hit and striking out the last batter after an epic eight pitch at-bat. The Cardinal hitters went in order in the bottom of the fourth and Chuck returned the favor to the Arizona batters in the top of the fifth. In the Stanford half of the frame, the Cardinal bats came to life.

Morgan led off the inning grounding out to the Wildcat pitcher on a swinging bunt. Then Bice and Malcolm both singled. Shaw walked, as did Ebersole to bring Dave Bice home for the first run of the inning. The real damage came when the next Stanford batter, Rodger Mason, homered down the left field line for a grand slam. The inning ended with the score sitting 10-2 in Stanford's favor. The only fly in the ointment was that a light rain had begun to fall while the home team was batting.

The last two groups had completed their performances. It was all in the hands of the judges' panel. Unlike in the Western Region Semifinals, the judges were taking their time and carefully discussing things. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Sarah was nervously bouncing her knees and she noticed that hers weren't the only ones. After what seemed like an eternity, the ICCA president stepped on stage.

"We want to congratulate all ten of the groups competing here tonight. Each of you should be proud of what you've accomplished this year and the journey you have taken to be here. You are all champions. It fell to the judges to determine which groups merited recognition as first among equals. Here are the results and I will tell you that it was close. In third place, with 352 points, is BisCaydence from Miami." Cheers. "In second place, with 358 points, is N'Harmonics from right here in New York." More cheers. The Songbirds all joined hands and hoped. "And in first place, with 444 points, this year's ICCA National Champions, the Songbirds from Stanford!" Cheering. Clapping. Screams of joy!

They'd done it! They'd done it! They'd done it! Oh My God! Champions!

"Party time!" Carina crowed.

The rain had let up, allowing the grounds crew, along with some of the bench players to spread out Diamond Dry and rake it into the wet spots around the infield. Places around home plate and the pitcher's mound had been the most concerning, but Patel, Barnes, and Johnson had done an excellent job of grooming the areas to the point that both head coaches and the umpiring crew deemed the field playable enough for the game to continue. Chuck's pitch count was getting up there, so he knew that he wouldn't be on the bump for much longer.

"You ready, Morgs?" he asked his friend who nodded. "Let's see if we can get through another one before they come get me."

"You got this, bro," Grimes smiled. They trotted out to the field and went through the warmup ritual.

Nick Quintana, the Arizona third baseman, was the first batter. Chuck gave up a ball before getting the batter to foul one off and swing at another, putting the count at 1-2. He missed low with his next pitch to knot the count at 2-2. Chuck was beginning to feel it. The short delay because of having to dry the field was just enough to begin to tighten his muscles. If Graham came to get him this inning, he wouldn't fight it. Shaking his head to refocus himself, he stared in at Morgan for the sign. Morgs wanted him to try the splitter. Cool! His split finger fastball would fall out of the zone and this guy will miss it for the strikeout. Good thinking, buddy.

Chuck came set, positioned his fingers on the ball, and went into his windup. His leg came up and he strode forward. When he threw the ball, his front foot slipped on the wet dirt of the mound. A tiny spot that hadn't been tamped down enough. Damn! The trajectory of the ball was off. Chuck could see that it wasn't going to drop far enough and would cross the plate in the zone instead of out of it. Quintana saw it, too. His swing was perfect. The ball was coming right back up the middle! Right back at him! Oh no! Chuck was still in the process of sliding to the ground and had no control. He tried to throw himself back out of the path of the ball. Too late! Sarah! Sadness overwhelmed him as he tried to turn his face away. That last tiny move may have saved his life, although he didn't know it.

The baseball slammed across Chuck's forehead, tearing his skin. White hot liquid fire poured into his skull. The pain was beyond excruciating.

Chuck lost control. All of his mental closets flew open at once. Every proscribed thought was free to rampage through his mind. He cried out in soul-wrenching anguish. The world greyed out around him as he fell into the abyss.

Darkness.

A/N2: Chapter title comes from the song by Queen. Good title and the lyrics are almost spot on for our favorite acapella singers.

A/N3: The final song I used for the Songbirds was, of course, the same song that the Barden Bellas sang at the end of the Pitch Perfect movie. I told you my musical skills were limited. If you're interested in seeing and hearing the performance from the movie, just Google "Pitch Perfect Bellas Finals".

A/N4: The actual ICCA Finals of 2019 were held in the PlayStation Theater in New York on April 27 at the same exact time as the Stanford baseball game against Arizona used at the end of the chapter. Very serendipitous for this story. Yes, there was a line drive to center field at the top of the sixth inning in the actual game. No joke. The PlayStation Theater closed on December 31, 2019.

A/N5: Yes, some pitchers really do spray antiperspirant on their fingers to help keep them from sweating or getting damp between innings. Not kidding here, at all.

A/N6: Diamond Dry is the brand name of a product used to dry out wet baseball fields. It is an all-natural, biodegradable, and renewable product made from corn cobs with no chemicals, coloring, or other additives. Diamond Dry does an exceptional job of absorbing water on baseball fields. It is applied to the wet areas and raked into the wet soil. There are other similar products made out of other materials.

A/N7: WillieGarvin is a fantastic beta-reader and advice-giver. Obviously. It's obviously his fault that you are taking some of your limited free time reading my silly scribbles. Obviously, this is my attempt to thank him for all of his help.

A/N8: Thank you for reading. Please drop me a PM or leave a review. Let me know what you think. For those of you who have left reviews or PMs previously, thank you. I appreciate each and every one of them. Another thank you to anyone who has favorited or followed this story. Y'all are the best.

A/N9: If you enjoy Chuck fan fiction here on the fanfic site, go over to Facebook and join the Chuck Fanfiction group that's there. You'll find nice folks who share your interest in our favorite spy couple. You are not alone.

A/N10: Bellas Finals: Price Tag/Don't You (Forget About Me)/Give Me Everything/Just the Way You Are/Party in the U.S.A./Turn the Beat Around lyrics © Universal Music - Z Tunes Llc, Wb Music Corp., Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp., Universal Music Corp., Usi B Music Publishing, Sony/atv Music Publishing (uk) Limited, Unichappell Music Inc., Usi A Music Publishing, Sony/atv Songs Llc, Bughouse, Bmg Gold Songs, Round Hill Songs, Prescription Songs, Kasz Money Publishing, Pen In The Ground Publishing, Studio Beast Music, Dry Rain Ent., Roc Nation Music, Music Famamanem Lp, Mars Force Music, Ham Squad Music, Toy Plane Music, Upper Dec, Songs Of Universal Inc., Northside Independent Music Publishing, Llc. The lyrics are used here, without permission, for entertainment purposes only.