A/N: First, thank you for coming on this ride with us. Second…whooo boy. You are about to enter another reimagined episode by SC and myself. Of everything we've written…of everything I'VE written, plotted, or had anything to do with writing, this arc…I have never been more proud of anything I have written in my entire life. Sit back, and enjoy this one.


"Now that you've had sleep and appear fully functional…" Beckman said, giving Chuck a look that said hush, "Well done, team." There was pride in her voice.

"Getting Manoosh away from the Ring is going to end up being a pretty serious blow for them," Shaw agreed. "He was their technical wizard. I'm impressed, and I don't say that often." Shaw turned to Sarah. "I'm assuming your NSA trainee didn't get in the way much?"

Chuck felt Sarah tense and he knew he had to do something before she did.

"Nope, I only tripped a few times," Chuck replied with the self-deprecation he had perfected over the years. "Zondra and Sarah took turns carrying my weight and telling me what to do." Shaw stared at Chuck, and Chuck held his gaze, refusing to look away. "At one point, they even wrapped me up in bubble wrap and locked me in the van just to make sure I didn't hurt myself. A valiant effort, by all accounts," he added drily.

Shaw shook his head as if he didn't have time for Chuck's antics and turned to the General. "I'll be heading back to Burbank. I assume these two will be joining me?"

Chuck had no want to be on an airplane with Shaw, and he really didn't want to be on an airplane with Sarah near Shaw. He still hadn't quite gotten Rule Number Five down yet, and the looks were still happening. He caught himself a few times with Zondra in the same general area and had to school his features before she noticed.

If he was going to have to do it for an entire flight back to Burbank… God. Torture.

"Uh, General that could be a problem." Chuck spoke up before Beckman could reply to Shaw. "While Ellie, Awesome, and Morgan know what I do, the other folks at my cover job would think something very fishy was up if I returned before my vacation was over."

"How much time off did you take?" Shaw asked.

"I took twenty one days. …That's three weeks," Chuck added slowly. Sarah subtly flicked his forearm and he jumped. Shaw ignored the barb, his eyes bugging out of his head. "I had to or I would lose it. The General knew." Shaw gave him a look of disbelief. "While I'm not lazy like the rest of the employees at the Buy More, I was also kicked out of Stanford and in a depressive slump for years, and in a rut, which gave me the appearance of a slacker and loser. Would a person like that ever let vacation days dry up without usin' 'em? I think not."

"Fine. That's a fair point. You stay, and Agent Walker and I will return," Shaw said, turning to go.

"I'm afraid that won't work, either," Sarah interjected. Shaw turned back, looking fatigued more than anything. "While I am always ready for the next mission, if I was to return to Burbank without Chuck, when they knew I left with him in the beginning, it would look bad for the cover relationship we're trying to sell."

"Oh, God," Beckman groaned. "I see your point. You two will stay behind then. To protect the cover."

"General, I am heading back to Burbank," Daniel said, annoyance and impatience dripping from his voice. He turned and quickly left the office.

"I still have concerns about him," Sarah muttered after Shaw had left the General's office and the door had shut.

"All I know is what's in the file I have on him, but you know how the CIA and NSA love to share information," Beckman drawled, irritation filling her voice. "It would be nice to have someone in the CIA that I could constantly count on." She shook her head, and then realized who she was talking to. "Present company excluded," she added, making Sarah smirk.

"Why can't Sarah access it?" Chuck asked. Both women gave him a look. "Fine, I said something stupid, but I don't know what I said that was so stupid."

"I'd have to log in, Chuck…" Sarah began.

"Ohhhh," Chuck replied, nodding. "A digital footprint." Sarah gave him a look. "And you don't know how to get around that."

Beckman cleared her throat. "And she doesn't have clearance, which meant even if she did get in, and did get it, without Shaw knowing, it would be obtained in a way we could not use, if we even found something useable."

"But we'd know," Chuck replied with a shrug. "We'd know if he's on our side."

"Do you think he's not?" Beckman asked. Chuck glanced at Sarah, who gave him the slightest of nods. "...Well, Agent?"

"General, here's what I know," Chuck began. "Sarah has had one goal since she first joined this team, and that has been to protect me. I've since learned, though…not always immediately," he added under his breath before continuing, "that when she talks, she knows what she's talking about."

"That rings true, Agent," Beckman agreed. "...Your point?"

"My point is, Shaw makes Sarah's spy sense tingle."

"Oh, God," he heard Sarah say softly and felt her rolling her eyes.

"Er, m-my actual point is, if Sarah is unsettled by Agent Shaw, then I am unsettled by Agent Shaw."

Beckman was silent for a moment. "Hm. I guess you'll have to keep a watch on him then. Unless you know of some way to obtain his confidential CIA records, which I really shouldn't know about if you do," Beckman rushed. Chuck started to open his mouth when he felt a foot hit him in the shin. He gave Sarah a look, but she was looking straight ahead. He turned back to Beckman who was smirking. "I take it you understand, Agent Walker?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Sarah replied. "What if Agent Bartowski and I took a cross country drive to work on communication between partners in a low stress environment?"

Chuck let out a quiet snort at Sarah's tongue-in-cheek suggestion.

"That's not a bad idea," Beckman agreed. What? He spun to give Sarah a wide-eyed look as she straightened a bit and furrowed her brow in confusion. "I've been thinking about this, actually. You still have quite a few days left before you have to be back in Burbank. This is the perfect opportunity to flesh out this cover relationship, actually give it some validity. I'm tired of always making my analysts use the little time they have to make bad photoshopped pictures to sell cover relationships. You can take advantage of all of the opportunities from here to Burbank. You know, those crummy little rest stops with the biggest-whatever-food-in-the-world stuff." Chuck just gaped at General Beckman. Sarah must've been gaping as well because the NSA General looked between them, and in a frustrated voice, clipped, "You know what I mean. Take pictures together."

He was still shocked out of his mind that she'd just sincerely agreed with Sarah's sarcastic suggestion they go on a cross-country road trip to work on their "communication".

"Uh, um, General Beckman…" Sarah started.

"Nope." She held up a hand, shutting her eyes tiredly. Sarah shut up quick. "Look, I get it. Things still aren't...comfortable here. Between you two. But that's precisely why we need real, non-photoshopped pictures of you two being a real couple. You haven't seen the crap these guys have photoshopped. You wouldn't believe the monstrosities I've tossed out... What you've seen is the best of it." She shivered. "Just take some real God damned pictures. Please. Put them up in your room, Agent Carmichael, keep them in your wallet to show the strange creatures at the Buy More–"

Chuck sniffed in amusement. "Pictures in my wallet? Nobody puts pictures in their–ahem, right. Pictures. In my wallet. Got it. Right. Will do." She gave him a look like she might turn him into dust with lasers that would shoot out of her eyes if only she willed it so.

Sarah just nodded with a quiet, "Yes, General."

"We'll take care of the gas, of course. Since this is technically a work trip." She seemed to get a little amusement out of that. "And when you get back, do be nice to Agent Casey. He's been quite grumpy with nobody else but Shaw around… That and having been shot."

"He gets shot a lot," Sarah observed.

"Yes, he does," Beckman agreed, nodding and sighing, seeming tired. "Dismissed." They nodded and both filed out of the room, and when the door shut behind them, Beckman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Please God, let them fix their shit on this trip."

}o{

She'd wanted to show him that she took their partnership seriously, that she trusted him with making big decisions, not just for them, but when it came to their work as well.

So Sarah had let Chuck plan the first leg of the road trip.

To his credit, as they sat in her apartment, their bags piled by her door so that they could grab them and go when they were ready, he'd made his decision pretty quickly, clapped his hands together with a, "Got it", and leaned in, fixing her with an excited look.

"So?" she prompted when he wasn't forthcoming at first. "Where we going?"

"We got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark out, and we're wearing sunglasses," Chuck said, grinning.

Sarah blinked. That wasn't a city. She was looking for a city. "Chuck, it's early in the day, we don't smoke, we aren't wearing sunglasses, and I'm pretty sure the car only has three-quarters of a tank of gas."

"So we add The Blues Brothers to the movies you haven't seen," he muttered. "Also you totally missed the line: 'We're on a mission from Gawd.'" She gave him a look. "Chicago," he said then, clearing his throat. "First stop is Chicago. Well, second stop, because you don't want to be stuck with me in a car for eleven hours." He saw her face. "Hey, I get it, I'm a lot." He pointed at the map. "Think you can find us somewhere to stay in this area?"

She made a face. "Not bad, Agent Carmichael. I think I can take care of the hotel."

As they got down to the car, shoving everything into the trunk and backseat, Chuck spoke up again. "Listen, it's about seven-hundred miles away and should take us about eleven total hours to get from D.C. to Chicago, not counting any stops we take for pictures," Chuck told her.

Sarah grinned at him, and slipped on her sunglasses. "Maybe if you drive, Grandma."

Five minutes into the drive, Chuck bemoaned not having the time to make a playlist for the trip. "This is truly embarrassing, Sarah. I've failed you as a partner."

She giggled. "Don't you have your iPod? Doesn't it have, like, a bajilliondy songs?"

"How many songs?"

"A bajilliondy. Shut up, it's a real number."

"Sure. Probably just a metric I've never heard of. Me, the physics and computer engineering double major."

She reached over and flicked his shoulder.

"Ow!" he laughed. "What's with the flicking?"

"That's what you do to a particularly pesky bug. You flick it." He cracked up. "This better not be a sign of the way this whole roadtrip will be going, because if it is, we might not make it," she teased, grinning at him.

But he just replied with a warmer smile than she was prepared for. "Can I be honest?"

"That's one of the rules," she stated diplomatically.

"Right, of course. No secrets, no lies." She nodded once, pulling onto the freeway. The journey was beginning and she felt a thrill and a spike of nerves, all at once. It was a curious sensation that she didn't quite understand. "That was a masterpiece back there. This morning, I mean." She gave him a questioning look, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Oh," she said then, looking away from the road. "You mean how I was able to pack most of our stuff into the trunk? I can also load a dishwasher like a boss, for the record."

He chuckled, his eyes lighting up. "Not that, though that was also a masterpiece. I mean how you played the conversation this morning to trick Beckman into making like this road trip was totally her idea, but really, this was what you wanted to happen the whole time, wasn't it? Playing like you were being tongue-in-cheek when you said a road trip would be good for our communication or whatever, but it stuck it in GB's brain and the lightbulb went off and she took it from there. I mean, you're a genius and it is very hot the way you managed to pull that off."

Sarah laughed, pulling her chin back and furrowing her brow like he was nuts. "I was being tongue-in-cheek. I was putting a completely sarcastic suggestion out there. A road trip to work on our communication skills in a low stress environment? Chuck, road trips aren't low stress. Do you know how restless I get being cooped up in a car, not having anything to do but just stare at...this stuff?" She gestured at the other cars around them, the buildings off to the side of the freeway. "I was being sarcastic and I don't know how in the hell she latched onto that and thought it was a good idea," she said, huffing, widening her eyes as she switched into the fast lane. And then she went fast. Really fast.

Chuck squirmed slightly in his seat and she slowed only a little bit.

"She's right about us not having much to validate our cover. We have no pictures of us, except the one they snuck a bug into before you gave it to me a few months ago."

"Yeah, that was photoshopped. And she's right that it was bad."

"Terrible. How much do NSA analysts get paid, exactly?"

"That was a CIA analyst."

"Question still stands."

She snorted and shook her head. "Yeah, I know. We need more pictures of us together. It's just… I wasn't expecting her to go along with the idea at all."

"Are you upset?" he asked after a long, not entirely comfortable silence. "I-I mean, do you not want to be on this trip? A road trip with me?"

She glanced at him and smiled a little. "I'm keeping an open mind. Maybe this'll be the first road trip I end up enjoying," she said, giving him a one shoulder shrug, feeling slightly shy.

Chuck grinned, his nose wrinkling, and then he reached across the console to drape his hand over hers, squeezing. "First road trip as a real couple. A real couple pretending to be a cover couple pretending to be a real couple." He cleared his throat. "The important part is that we're a real couple. I'll-I'll be honest. Before your genius road trip suggestion, I was kind of…trying to finagle a little bit of time with you. Secret-like. Probably not super great for this whole thing we're doing where we're pretending we're not really together, but it just…" He sighed. "I'm tired. Two super intense, taxing missions back-to-back, and then Shaw trying to strong-arm us back to Burbank so quickly. I just need a few days to unwind and… Crap, I wanna be allowed to just be with you, ya know?"

Sarah felt his words settle in her chest, like a warm blanket. She chewed on her bottom lip, then spoke up. "I know. I'm not mad at you." She turned her hand in his and squeezed back, lacing their fingers together. "I want this time, too–the two of us." Then she halted, continuing a bit tentatively. "Do you think other couples–the, erm, normal ones–take road trips across the country only, like, a week after they start dating?"

His face turned thoughtful. And then he snorted. "No, probably not. Most likely not. But we're not exactly normal." She widened her eyes in agreement. "Even then, it isn't like we only met one another a week ago. We've been doing this for a while, Sarah. We just couldn't act on it before, because it would've gotten you sent away somewhere, on another mission, and I'd no doubt end up in a bunker as a result."

She sighed. "That's true. This has been happening between us for some time now."

"And now we're on the road!" he exclaimed, lifting their hands between them and giving them a little shake, making her giggle. "No surveillance cameras, no bugs, no Casey, and especially no Agent Shaw–"

"Thank fuck."

He cracked up. "We're on the same page there." Chuck lowered their hands back down and held onto her hand with both of his, encasing it in warmth. "Sarah, we're out here, just us, for days and days. No Ring agents swarming around us. No keys to find. We just get to drive and eat Beckman's favorite crazy record breaking foods that they put up on billboards," she giggled at that, "and just freakin' enjoy. This. Us."

She pursed her lips and twisted them to the side, not sure if he could see the blush on her face as she really thought of the implications of this trip. General Beckman had sent half of her team on a road trip, not knowing that they were in love with each other, had come to terms with their feelings, had crafted rules about how to keep the relationship safe, had slept together twice (so far)... And until now, it hadn't really occurred to Sarah, either. This was her first real relationship, and they were going to be alone, out on the road… She didn't know why it felt like a big deal to her suddenly.

"Yeah, well… It's gonna be a lot harder to enjoy since you didn't make us a special playlist, you freakin' jerk."

He rocked forward in his seat, laughing, apparently having not expected her response. "I'm so sorry. Like I said, I'm a total failure."

She giggled. "You're not." And she untangled her hand from his to reach up and push her fingers over his curls. "I don't even need music, honestly. I don't mind the quiet."

}o{

"How do you not have a favorite candy, Sarah?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, shrugging, after about the second hour of nonstop chatter from her partner and boyfriend. "It's candy, Chuck! Isn't it all good?"

"All of it?" Chuck scoffed. "Sarah, no. No, not all candy is good."

"Well, yeah...I mean, all candy gives you cavities."

"Nooo," he groaned, laughing. "There are literal candies that taste and look like antacids. Okay? Those are not good. And Circus Peanuts. AWFUL."

"What? That's not candy, those are peanuts. Nuts don't count, Chuck. Not unless it's actually, like, in a candy bar. Like, I don't know. Are there nuts in Snickers?"

"Sarah." She shrugged at the look of disbelief on his face. "To answer your question, yes, there are nuts in Snickers. But Circus Peanuts aren't–I don't mean actual, like, peanuts that you give to elephants."

She cracked up. "I like that you immediately jumped to the peanuts you 'give to elephants', that's super cute." This time he shrugged, chuckling. "What the hell is the candy version?"

"Gummy and gross, awful chalky-chewy texture, shaped like a peanut, this sickly pale orange color. Honestly, you're better off not knowing."

"Okay, fine. So maybe not all candy is good. Oh God, I just thought of black licorice. Gross."

"Bleckkk! You're right about that." He held up his hand and she high-fived him casually, smirking. "So is Snickers the winner then?"

"What? Why would you think my favorite is Snickers?"

"That's the only kind you've actually mentioned."

"Okay, I get it. I'm definitely lacking in the whole pop culture department. I don't know much about music, or your cult pop whatever, the science fiction crap–er, stuff," she corrected quickly when he looked like he might get offended. "But I know candy brands. Jesus."

"Okay, good. Give me some that you really like. We're stopping in an hour or two at the halfway point and I intend to stock up for our trip. I want to know what you like so that you aren't forced to munch on my faves."

"Awww." She grabbed his bicep and squeezed, smirking. "You're looking out for me, making sure I have my own faves to munch."

Chuck laughed, shaking his head. "You're a lot right now." Before she could respond, he said genuinely and without pause: "I love it."

She pressed her lips together and smiled. "Almond Joy." He spun to look at her. "I really like Almond Joy. Especially after it's been in the freezer for a few hours. I mean, that's not something that we can do on a road trip, but just...for future information."

"Seeeeeee?" God, his face and his voice were just dripping with utter joy, his nose and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in happiness. "Heeeey. Look at us! New couple, just discovered what one another's favorite candy is. Thank you, General Diane Beckman of the NSA."

Sarah snorted. "Can you maybe not thank our boss every time something good happens while we're on this road trip?" He blinked, tilting his head and eyeing her funny. "I just mean...at some point, I'm imagining a certain really good thing happening, and I'd rather you not invoke her name at that point."

"W-Oh. Wow." He shook himself. "H'oh wow. Well. Ahem. It's good you're driving this first part, because if you'd said that while I was behind the wheel, I would'a driven us right off the road."

Giggling, she weaved her way around yet another car.

"So are we still doing the no music thing?" he asked.

She gave him a bit of a side-eye.

}o{

"Tangeriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine! Tangerine!" He played drums a bit manically in the air in front of him. "Living reflectionnnnnn… from a dream." And then he reached over as she laughed, grabbing her arm. "I was her looooo-huuuuuuuuuvvvv…" Then he reached up and steepled his fingers on top of her head. "She was my queen." He pulled his arms back into his chest, his hands made into fists, shutting his eyes dramatically as he sang. "And now a thousand years… BETWEEEEEEEEEEEEN!"

He reached over and turned the volume dial so that the music wasn't so loud. "Sorry. That's my jam," he said, feeling a bit sheepish as she smiled out at the road in front of them. Even as she'd laughed at his antics, she'd gotten a little quiet.

"I think you've probably said that about maybe, like, sixty percent of the songs we've heard today. Which...I guess that kind of makes sense, since this is your iPod. You put all that stuff on there."

He made a face and tilted his head. "Fair point."

"And a lot of, um…" She grabbed his iPod and looked at it. "Mel Tormé, there, Chuck."

"Well, yeah of course, he's Mel Tormé. If you're BLUE and YOU. don't. KNOW. where to GO TO. Why don't cha GO–" He was forced to stop the signature Tormé singing when she pressed her finger gently to his lips.

"Yes, Chuck. I heard the song. You don't need to sing it. But thank you."

"Does Tormé annoy you?" he asked after watching her for a long moment. Her lips had probably gotten a little thin as she continued driving. "He does! Sarah! Sarah, come on. You should've just told me!" He put something on that was a lot more tame, she noticed. "No secrets, no lies, Sarah."

She giggled. "I didn't think this applied," she teased. "You were all into it and stuff. I didn't want to ruin whatever party was going on...over there." She waved her hand in a circular motion at his general person.

"I was trying to involve you in the party!"

"I'm driving!" she laughed.

"Okay, well...just…" He licked his lips then swiveled in his seat to face her better. "In the future, since we still have pretty much the entire length of the country and many, many days to go, if I play a song and you hate it, or a musician or band that is rubbing you the wrong way, please just tell me and I'll turn on something else." She gave him a sideways look as if it wasn't that big of a deal and he held up his hand by his head. "Sarah, listen. I played too many Mel Tormé songs. I own that. I screwed up." She giggled and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep up the game. "But a week is a long time to be trapped in a car with someone playing music that you don't like."

Sarah rolled her eyes and grinned at him. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you. But you can't get butthurt now if I tell you I don't like something. This was your idea, remember."

"Deal. Anyway, this is cool. It'll help me figure out your tastes. That's fun for me."

"You need to get out, buddy boy."

"Oh, I am." He gestured at the scenery around them and she giggled again.

And then he took another long look at her and smiled dreamily. She noticed his eyes widen, as if some thought struck him.

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow dubiously.

His smile grew and he went back to his iPod, scrolling through it. "How far are we from Elyria?" he asked, having pegged that as a good halfway mark between D.C. and Chicago. "The fantastical Elyria, land of dragons and mystical witches."

She decided to ignore that last bit of weirdness. "Um, the hotel I marked is maybe five minutes away?" She shrugged. "I think."

"Okay, well that's perfect." And he found the song, turning it on. As someone's fingers moved over piano keys, Chuck moved to turn the volume up again. Sarah gave him yet another dubious look. But when the base and drums picked up, a small smile grew on her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked in an amused warning tone.

But he didn't answer, instead shimmying in his seat to the song, lip synching the chorus to her as she bit the inside of her lip and stared straight ahead, a beaming smile threatening to break on her features.

Chuck had to know exactly what he was doing though, because when they sang "Waiting for the chance...just to hold your hand", he reached over and gently pulled her hand nearest him from the steering wheel and curled his fingers around hers.

A blush bloomed over her face as she turned a wide-eyed look at him, and she absolutely melted. "Okay, fine," she drawled, her voice crackling in absolute delight. "You got me. That was very well done."

"A'thank you. Gooooolden ladddyyyyy. Gooooolden ladyyyy I'd like to go theeeeere," he sang along with them, keeping hold of her hand.

He only let go again to mimic playing the keyboard during the instrumental break, and he received a barking laugh from his partner as she shook her head at him. "You are seriously the biggest freaking doof I've ever met in my life. Am I seriously about to be stuck in a car with this for a whole week?"

"I'll make it worth your while, Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA." He bounced his eyebrows at her and her jaw fell open, but he must've secretly been twisting his fingers in the candy bag, for he suddenly lifted a handful of Almond Joys up for her to see. "All the Almond Joys you've ever wanted."

She absolutely cracked up, leaning forward far enough to press her chin against the steering wheel. She didn't even know what to do about him. "You've set yourself up now, nerd. Whatever you think is going to be happening in that hotel room tonight, instead I'll just be sitting on my side of the bed with that bag of chocolatey coconutty goodness on my lap, stuffing my face."

Chuck narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Please don't kick me out of the car, but I'd pay big bucks to see that happen." She laughed and sent him a weirded out look. "What?!" he chuckled. "I just mean that there's something extremely cute to me about that image of you sitting there with the bag on your lap just munching away on your favorite coconut chocolates." She kept staring at him as if he was crazy. "I imagine that version of Sarah Walker to be a very happy and satisfied Sarah Walker and that brings me joy."

As she pulled into the driveway of a two-story motel with only half a dozen cars spottily scattered around the parking lot, she smiled, shooting him a quick, warm look. "First that thing you did with my hand to the song (that I actually really liked by the way just for the record)," and he beamed at her, maybe a little too happy about something so trivial but she loved that about him, "and then what you just said right there? Chuck Bartowski, you're batting...I don't know baseball, but whatever the highest number is, you're batting that."

"Good to know," he hummed. "And for the record, one thousand is perfect."

"That, then. One thousand." She pulled the car to a stop in one of the motel's check-in spaces and turned to face him, giving him a long look. And then she unbuckled her seatbelt and threw it off of her, before she leaned over the console, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him solidly. She pulled back after a moment. "That's for the sweet song." She kissed him one more time and broke it again, biting her lip as she met his gaze. "And that's because I wanted to and nobody's here to stop me."

"Both reasons are good."

She giggled and tugged a bit on one of his curls. "You mind unloading some of our stuff while I check in?"

"Sure thing. Make sure you get me a corner room with a nice view, huh? And make sure it has one of those big beds so's I can spread out. Spread eagle. Unless you want the corner room," he said when she gave him a halting look. He looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face. "I can just take the room next to it if you really want the corner room."

Her confusion broke then and she bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "I know you're just teasing me, but there is no damn way I'm letting you sleep spread eagle in our bed."

And she was gone, leaving him gaping after her.

Our bed…

She didn't see it as she walked away smirking, but Chuck Bartowski shivered in the best way and unplugged his electronics from the AUX player, before swinging out of the car and starting to unload their luggage.

}o{

Sarah wondered if Chuck would think something was wrong with her, she'd spent so much time in the bathroom taking her shower. She was sure at least twenty five minutes had passed since Chuck finished his shower and she passed him with what she'd be wearing to bed bundled up in one of the hotel towels.

She'd bundled it up in a way he wouldn't be able to see it on purpose. Because she'd put two outfits in there, and she was sure he would recognize one of them, even if it wasn't exactly the same. Because that night had felt monumental for them, even if it hadn't been what she...had wanted, deep down. This had still been so new then, terrifying and comforting all at once.

And now she was terrified again but for a completely different reason.

She wondered what he was going through out there in the main room. Since she hopped in the shower and came back out again, taking her time drying off, trying to decide which of the two outfits to wear, she heard Chuck turn the television on and off at least three or four different times.

And the way he'd shifted his weight, gesturing to the bathroom when he came out with his damp hair, clearing his throat and saying, "Uhhhh, it's...it's all yours."

Sarah tied the towel at her chest and just stared at the two neat piles on the counter. She picked up the purple lingerie top and matching underwear. It wasn't exactly what she'd shown up in that night in Echo Park. But it was lingerie. And it was purple. At the last minute, she'd driven off into downtown D.C. to find the closest thing she could to what she'd picked out back then and still sat in a drawer in her hotel room in LA now.

She looked up into the mirror, having to swipe at the glass to actually see her own face. "What are you doing?" she whispered at herself. She didn't know. She'd been thinking about this all day. And honestly, ever since Beckman agreed with her tongue-in-cheek idea, she'd been of multiple minds on what this was, what it had to be, what she had to make it, what they were going to make it.

What was Chuck expecting on this trip? What was he expecting tonight and the nights after? She knew what any regular guy, the typical guy, would expect. Probably the same thing any regular woman would expect, right? This was a very new relationship, and she knew people called this period of a relationship the "honeymoon stages", so wouldn't the expectation be...romance? Sex?

She just didn't know, damn it. She didn't even know what her own expectations of the next few days were. So how could she know what Chuck's were? She just didn't want to wreck this whole trip that was supposed to be...something special. That she knew they were both agreed on. This trip could be, had to be, special. She didn't want to fuck it up by being weird or awkward, pushing where she shouldn't be pushing, forcing intimacy when it wasn't on.

She decided that she'd rather err on the side of caution. She didn't want to freak Chuck out and make him feel like he had to perform when he wasn't ready for that. He was Chuck. She knew him too well. Maybe she didn't know what he expected from this, but she knew that if he assumed a certain way about her expectations, he'd do his best to meet those expectations even if he was totally unprepared.

This was a big deal. And she was overthinking it–she knew she was–but she'd rather overthink it than fuck this up.

And maybe for the first time, she actually got what happened to Chuck Bartowski in his head in almost every single situation, his knack for overthinking everything. Maybe he did that to keep from fucking things up. She could finally relate to that.

Sarah slipped her underwear on and cotton sleeping shorts on over it, tugging a regular camisole on over her torso. She pulled the hair tie out of her hair and let it fall over her shoulders, and then she bundled up the lingerie, holding it behind her back and slowly inching her way back out of the bathroom.

Spotting Chuck sitting on the bed, she glanced over at the television. It was off again. Instead he was just sitting on one side of the bed, looking right at her, his eyes wide, his face a bit stricken.

He had his legs pulled up so that his knees were up by his shoulders, and he propped his arms on them, his back ramrod straight. It looked insanely uncomfortable. And then he just raised a hand in greeting, just slightly, before dropping it again and lowering his eyes.

Sarah used that opportunity to shove the purple lingerie back into her suitcase without him noticing. She stood up again and tucked her hair behind her ear, moving over to the bed.

"Shower was nice," Chuck said then, practically blurting it. "Y'know. Hotel showers aren't…usually…so it was a nice surprise."

She nodded, smiling at him tentatively. "Yeah." She picked up the covers and climbed in, fluffing her pillows up behind her and leaning back against them. "The jet was like a massage almost."

"Totally! Yes. Exactly. Not what you expect in some hotel on the side of the road in a place called Elyria. Dungeons and Dragons ass sounding city name…" he mumbled under his breath.

She smirked. "Hey. I worked hard to pick this hotel out."

"Sorry," he chuckled, holding his hands up by his shoulders.

A silence settled over them and she saw him grab his cell phone from the nightstand, fiddling with it. She resisted the urge to do the same.

Agent Walker took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She felt how thick the air between them was with tension. It was an awkward tension. Was it expectation? Or maybe he was absorbing her insecurity in this moment. Taking it in and projecting it back out again.

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye as he silenced his phone and haltingly set it back on the nightstand. Then he sat back against his pillows. He got up then, climbing up next to the bed to pull down the sheets and get under them, mimicking her position on his side of the bed.

Sighing, she shook her head at herself. This was Chuck. This wasn't some dollar store boyfriend she might've had if her life hadn't careened in the direction it had. This was real. And maybe that was why she was driving herself nuts about this seemingly trivial situation. This was a real relationship. Bonafide. And as unconventional as it was, it was solid.

And this moment was solid. He was solid.

That was what finally led to her blurting out, "I don't know what to do."

It cut into the tense silence that had permeated in the motel room. And it had an almost ringing quality to it. Or maybe that was her ears ringing... Maybe that was it.

"Um." That was all he seemed capable of saying. She didn't blame him. She hadn't meant to just...explode with a nonsensical sentence. He wasn't in her head. He didn't know all of the thoughts she'd been thinking.

"I'm not…" she tried. And then she tried again, "I don't know what the right thing is...to do here." She slowly lifted her eyes to look at his profile, peeking up through her eyelashes. She wasn't even sure if she should admit any of this. This was such a new relationship, a new romantic relationship at least. Was she fucking this up?

"Um, right thing for what?" he asked softly. When she didn't respond, because she was trying to figure out how to and was coming up short, Chuck reached over and laid his hand over hers, squeezing. "If it's the same thing I'm over here, um, overthinking...I promise it's okay for you to just say whatever it is you're trying to say."

Of course he was overthinking something. He was Chuck. That was his bread and butter.

"We're new, Chuck. This is new. I mean, it isn't new. But this part of us is new. Us being together for real. It's brand new. And it's such a weird…" No, she didn't want to say that. She didn't want to doom their relationship by calling it 'weird' right off the bat. That was stupid. "Chuck, I can't wrap my head around this. The fact that we're actually doing this–all of this, not just being together but the layers and the–Well, it's going to be really hard, even if it's worth it. But I'm totally going off on a freaking tangent, ugh!" She rolled her eyes at herself. "I'm being a total wack job right now, Chuck, because I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or...expect...from this." She gestured to the room around them, and then between them.

"Our relationship, or…?"

"The fact that we're on this long trip together, a road trip, and this is our first night in a hotel, just us, on this...vacation, I guess. I don't know, someone normal might make it a super...romantic thing. But I got all stuck in my head because we're…" She sighed.

"Not normal?" he asked. She peeked up at him again and saw he was smiling warmly at her. It was just a small smile but it was enough. "You're right. We're definitely not normal. And that's something we have to figure out how to...maneuver through?" He wrinkled his face up as if he wasn't sure if that was the right way to phrase it. She knew what he meant. "But hey, you're talking to the King of Getting Stuck In Your Head. Not-Not your head, but my head. You get it."

She smirked and then she sobered quickly, turning her hand over underneath his and threading their fingers together. "Chuck, I didn't want to freak you out, but I also didn't want to disappoint you. So I didn't know what to do with this night. You know? I didn't want to ruin it. It's the first night of this trip and we have all these other nights and all this time we're gonna be stuck on the road. I don't want to fuck it up right at the very start of it."

Chuck raised his eyebrows. And then he huffed, almost in awe, turning to look straight ahead. She saw something change in him, the tenseness leaving his form, his features easing. He shifted under the covers to face her better, then pulled her hand into his lap, sandwiching it in both of his own hands. "First of all, you need to know that you could've come out in a Freddy Krueger mask and jumped onto the bed screaming bloody murder, and it wouldn't have ruined the trip."

"Really?" she giggled dubiously. "Because that'd be really fucked up."

"I'd be terrified, but...At the end of the day, that'd be pretty radical, I won't lie. My girlfriend actively buying a Freddy K mask to scare me while we're on a road trip? Amazing. Truly."

"Chuck."

"Sorry." He shook himself and she bit her lip, just beaming at the idiot. "The important thing is that we're here. And it's just us. And like we've established, this isn't really all that normal. But what it is …is really, really super good. This is everything I've been too afraid to dream about since you first sat out there on that beach with me and told me to trust you. When you made me feel like...I at least had somebody. Like, even if it was just the one person, at least it was a really, really, really good one." He shook his head as she was flooded with warmth, and she wondered what it was that happened, in the air, or in people themselves, that made them so drawn to one another, the way she was so drawn to Chuck Bartowski. She didn't believe in magic, but this felt like the closest thing to it.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Sarah, neither of us have to have expectations about this. Any of this. We're finally alone, without the handler/asset barrier, without our stupid heads keeping us apart, without bugs and cameras, no missions, no one telling us what to do or who to be. I just want to be here, in the moment, with you. Whatever else…that doesn't matter. We have what matters here."

Sarah bit her lip, letting herself just take him in with his dark curls that still had a bit of a damp sheen to them, his handsome face where she could see every last bit of the feelings he had for her, his shirt a little crooked and with some nerdy pop culture reference she didn't get.

"So what you're telling me is… don't freak out?" she asked quietly, amusement in her face.

Chuck laughed. "Exactly. Whatever happens here, on this our very first night in a motel while we're on our very first real relationship road trip," he announced with a teasing amount of gravity, "the rest of the trip isn't gonna be ruined. This? Us? It takes way more than busted expectations to stop us. Come on. They don't stand a chance."

Giggling, she shook her head at him. He was right. And she felt the nerves wafting away as if they'd never existed in the first place. Sarah pursed her lips thoughtfully then, before coyly letting her blue eyes drift over to meet his gaze. "Well, if we aren't worrying about who had what sorts of expectations about tonight…"

She crawled out from under the covers and climbed up to her feet, hurrying over to her suitcase. She snuck the lingerie out and turned to face him, holding it behind her back where he couldn't see it. She shimmied over to the bathroom door and ducked behind it, rushing to change.

It wasn't exactly a Freddy Krueger mask, but she thought it might do.


A/N: *DC, hands on hips* I like circus peanuts…..and that could be why I have diabetes….

SC: Stevie Wonder, always and forever.