Chapter Two:

Chuck opened his eyes to the morning light only to realize he was being watched. He groaned and pulled the covers over his head, trying to hide from the inevitable start of the week.

"Sarah…" he murmured, his thoughts still half-formed.

He heard her laugh beside him, and felt her long, nimble fingers roam across his chest, pulling him towards her. Blearily he opened his eyes to regard her, and wondered how she could look the way she did when it was only six in the morning. She gazed at him, her eyes light like the morning sky, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Sarah, you know how creepy it is when you watch me sleep?"

She responded with a playful box to the ears and Chuck buried himself deeper into the mess of pillows and sheets, trying to duck from her attack.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Chuck looked sheepishly at her, making the most of his puppy-dog eyes. "But it startles me when you do that."

She tilted her head and whatever thoughts she was thinking, she kept to herself. "I can't help it," she said. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is real."

Chuck smiled. "I know," he said, gazing at her. "Have I told you how beautiful you look this morning?"

Sarah looked skywards, briefly considering the question at hand. "Not yet and I'm still waiting," she said with the most mischievous grin he'd ever seen.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, taking in the sight of her. "You really are."

Sarah seemed to glow at the compliment, every inch of her body intent on living up to his words. She kissed him softly and sweetly first, but then the tides turned and she pounced on him, nibbling on his lower lip with a cat-like grin.

"Well that's a very eloquent way of getting into my pants, Mr. Bartowski," she teased. Chuck flushed deep red just as she knew he would.

"I didn't mean—" Before he could finish his sentence, she had already captured his mouth again. It just wasn't fair. He was still dazed with sleep, vulnerable to an assault.

Breaking from the long kiss, she raised her brows and tilted her chin just the slightest. Chuck sighed with contentment, always a willing subject when it came to being taken advantage of.

_

An hour later, Sarah was immaculate in her work attire and Chuck looked like a slob with an expensive tie. He leaned on the kitchen counter, taking a slow gulp of coffee as he watched his wife simultaneously loop her earrings, pour coffee into a travel mug and punch a memo into her cell all in the same time it took him to swallow. It just wasn't fair.

When she saw him wearing yesterday's dress-shirt with the tie hanging loose and lop-sided, she frowned and marched over to him.

"What will people think when their boss marches into the office looking like this?" she asked, her hands already impulsively around the ends of the silken cord. She wound the fabric deftly, tightening here, loosening there, ultimately forming the perfect Windsor. Chuck thought it looked odd with the rest of his casual appearance but given that Sarah had tied it for him, he was reluctant to loosen the knot.

"I don't think I'll be going to the office today."

Sarah frowned. "Big plans?" she teased.

Chuck was tempted to stick his tongue out at her. "No," he said, pretending to look offended. "Morgan's out of town on vacation and there's not a lot I can do without consulting him. I want to plan our next big thing together, you know?"

"Morgan on vacation…alone?" Sarah arched her brows. "That's hard to imagine."

Chuck laughed. "Well, more like a business trip. He's gone to Japan."

"Stealing ideas?" Sarah asked with a devilish grin. "Sniffing out the competition?"

Chuck put his arms around her, bringing them close enough so their foreheads touched. "Something like that," he whispered.

"Did you want to go too?"

Chuck paused and he saw that she was staring at him. He was afraid she'd pull away, but she leaned even closer, eager to hear his answer.

He shook his head. "No."

"It's okay, Chuck. You should have gone," she said, her shoulders sinking just the slightest. "He's your best friend."

He gripped her tight, making sure she could see his eyes. "Hey. I wanted to be with you."

Sarah smiled despite herself. As skilled as she was at hiding her emotions sometimes, Chuck knew she was flattered.

"You can be with me any time," she said. "I don't want Morgan to feel like I'm stealing you away."

"You can't compete with Morgan," Chuck informed matter-of-factly.

He could see Sarah's eyes widen at the statement and she tilted her chin up at him.

"Oh is that so?" she asked, even though it looked more like she wanted to say, And just why not?

Chuck grinned. "That's right. You see, I wouldn't be able to do this with Morgan." He leaned in and took her lips, surprising her with his boldness. Sarah pulled back, startled by the turn of events.

Then she smiled at him. "Or this," she said with an arch of her brow and returned the gesture with twice the fervor.

When they finally broke free from one another's embrace, Sarah rolled her eyes.

"This is exactly why we need to get up two hours before work starts," she said as she reapplied her lip gloss.

Chuck could only smile. He walked her down the hall and gave her one last kiss at the door.

"Hey." He held her hand just as she was about to leave. "I'm sorry about Ellie." They hadn't discussed it all weekend, but he knew it was still there at the back of their minds. They couldn't escape the elephant in the room no matter how hard they tried.

Sarah's smile waned and she seemed to struggle with her composure. "It's okay," she said with a shrug. "It's just Ellie. She was just trying to look out for you."

Chuck wasn't satisfied with the answer. "I don't mind…taking things slow, just so you know." Even though it had almost been two years since he lost his memories, sometimes he still felt like a blind man trying to feel his way towards the light. They had built new memories together, but nothing could ever replace what had been removed. That was a fact not lost on either of them.

Sarah swallowed slowly. "Please don't think it's you," she said. "You're wonderful. You'd make a wonderful father. It's me."

Chuck stroked her cheeks, afraid he'd find invisible tears. "I know."

"I'm—"

"Complicated," they both said in unison.

Chuck smiled and nodded. "I know."

Sarah nodded sadly. "This isn't really the time to talk about this." She glanced down the hall of their suite at the elevator. "Later?"

"Later," he agreed. Chuck kissed her one last time, but he couldn't help feeling like a part of her wasn't really there.

_

Chuck had a slow morning. He sent out a few emails to Morgan, snuck in an hour of research on the game console and called in a box of muffins and donuts to the office with a note telling them he wouldn't be in for the day.

As the noon hour was about to roll in, Chuck decided to head down to the deli and pick up lunch for him and Sarah. He called her first to make sure she wasn't in the middle of something, her rule—not his, and she sounded relieved to hear his voice. Chuck was relieved too, to know that their morning conversation didn't have a lasting effect on her.

Sometimes he still had an irrational fear that she would realize she'd made a mistake and leave him, but then he reasoned it was merely his sister's paranoia setting in. After their so-called breakup three years ago, an incident Chuck happily failed to remember, it had been Ellie trying to pick up the pieces. He couldn't blame her for being nervous and he was sure she would have been more understanding if she knew the truth. Whatever that was.

Sometimes Chuck felt like he'd won the lottery; jumping from point A to point B with none of the mess inbetween.

"So meet you for lunch?"

He thought he almost heard her laugh on the other line. "Same time. Same place."

_

Chuck parked the car a block from Sarah's work and entered the deli . His timing was perfect and there was hardly anyone there.

"Hello, Mr. Bartowski, the usual then?"

Chuck gave a friendly wave and selected two bottled waters and toasted sandwiches like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and paid the cashier the exact amount in bills and then some for the tip jar.

Just as he was about to leave, he bumped shoulders with the man next in line.

"Chuck?"

"Bryce?" he asked in disbelief, nearly dropping the take-out bag. He couldn't believe his bad luck. Of all the deli's in all the world, Bryce Larkin had to walk into this one?

"Hey! Chuck!" the man greeted with a wide grin and hugged him warmly, slapping him on the back for good measure. Much to his disappointment, Bryce was no less handsome than he had been during their Stanford days. Even in a grubby sweatshirt and shorts, there was no hiding his toned physique. Though Chuck was the taller of the two, Bryce held a presence that more than made up for the difference.

A mound of resentment began to grow as Chuck recalled all the misgivings he had for the man in front of him.

"What a coincidence," he said through gritted teeth. "How are you?"

Bryce smiled innocently at him, missing all the subtleties. "I'm good. Just dropped in from D.C.. There's an accountant's symposium happening this week. Thought I'd check it out."

Chuck nodded, clutching the bag in his hand just a little tighter. "Right," he said. "That's nice." Never one to start an argument, he thought he'd leave and be consoled by the fact he had a very beautiful and loving wife waiting for him.

Bryce frowned. "Whoa, Chuck!" he called out and followed after him. "What's going on?"

Chuck wrinkled his brows. It was moments like this that made him regret winning the so-called lottery to life. Moments that forced him to reevaluate his past and wonder what had exactly happened in those five mysterious years.

"Nothing," Chuck said with a slow shake of his head. "I just have to be somewhere."

Bryce tailed after him, as persistent as a bulldog. "Hey, I haven't seen you in almost two years and all I get is a 'how are you'?" He slapped his friend playfully on the shoulder. "Come on! What's been happening in your life?"

Oh my God, Chuck thought as he realized the terrible truth. He was friends with Bryce Larkin. Chuck wondered how he could forgive this man for the monumental scale of betrayal he'd suffered.

"Um…I got married, made a game…" Chuck was still too confused to know where to begin. He'd dreamed of being able to boast in Bryce's face but now he only felt robbed. That confrontation probably happened a long time ago.

Bryce nodded. "Yeah, yeah I heard!" he said. "Fancy bumping into you here! I've been meaning to call." He ran his fingers through his sleek dark hair, something Chuck knew he tended to do when he felt nervous or unsure. The only question was why.

"So..." Bryce said, trying to prolong the conversation. His blue eyes were wide and brimming full of hope.

Don't be a jerk, Chuck told himself. The man obviously wanted to talk and he knew he shouldn't have misgivings about something that had already been resolved without his knowledge.

"Do you want to come over and have dinner with my wife and I tonight?"

Bryce's smile broadened. "Really?" he asked, jumping at the chance. "Oh, that would be great! We have so much to catch up on."

Chuck nodded slowly, still holding some reservation. "Yeah. We sure do," he sighed.

_

Chuck knew he was late when he walked into the bank. Sarah was standing behind the last wicket on the left, engaged with a customer. He couldn't quite tell if she was bored or simply frustrated, but he knew from the smile she flashed him that she was grateful for a break.

"Mr. Bartowski, always nice to see you," one of Sarah's coworkers said as she passed him.

He gave a smile and a wave.

"You're a little late today, aren't you?" someone else teased, making him flush with embarrassment. He had no idea his coming and goings were so closely scrutinized. "Is there a sandwich for me in there?"

Chuck laughed. He made a mental note to bring lunch for everyone here someday. Sarah never had anything to say about her coworkers or work in general, so he couldn't be blamed for not being friendlier.

By the time Sarah approached, Chuck was in the middle of a rapport about the awful traffic on the interstate with one of the tellers. His lovely wife flashed him a look of annoyance and purposefully took his hand, pulling him ever so slightly away from the other woman.

Even if Chuck was oblivious, the woman caught the sign and stepped back.

"Nice speaking to you," she said and returned to her station. Sarah frowned at Chuck.

"What?" he asked, wishing she wouldn't look at him that way.

"You're late," she said, pulling him out of the building.

"I'm sorry." He rubbed her back, wondering why she still put up with a job that was so beneath her.

She hugged him close as they walked with an arm wrapped around one another to their usual lunch spot at the picnic tables behind the bank. Mondays were always rough; Chuck remembered, and he was sorry he couldn't have rescued her away earlier.

"I got your favorite…" He waved the sandwich in front of her, hoping to catch her attention. She smiled ruefully at him. "It's got extra pickles…"

She snatched it from him, finally allowing her true smile to shine underneath. "Thank you," she mouthed silently.

Chuck sighed with relief. He was forgiven…for now. "And it's not entirely my fault that I'm late. I ran into an old college buddy at the deli."

"Oh, Chuck, that's great!" she declared, returning to the Sarah he knew so well.

Chuck shrugged. It was rare for him to meet someone who didn't fall under the five year gap. If it hadn't been Bryce Larkin, he probably would have been more ecstatic.

"I kind of invited him over for dinner tonight. I hope that's okay."

Sarah winced. "We're going to torture him with our cooking?"

Chuck laughed. It was a petty revenge. "You sure you're okay with this?"

She tilted her head. "Of course. I've never met any of your college friends before." She smiled a wicked smile. "This should be interesting. What skeletons are you hiding in your closet, Mr. Bartowski?"