It's a Wonderful Cover Life
A/N 2013: Last week of rereading, folks. Thank you for joining, I'm having a blast. And thank you Nervert for beta'ing this again. After not actively writing for so long, this has gotten me back into the habit, so I should see you here soon with some new stuff.
A/N: The following people can be blamed for the delay – Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey and Phoebe, sometimes known as Princess Consuela Banana Hammock. Yeah, I took a mini-vacation from life and watched all 10 seasons of Friends. It was fun, I really recommend it.
But back to reality. For those of you not in the know, I started a ten week creative writing course last week. It might cut into my writing time from around week five or so, so please bear with me. I'm trying to better myself for your enjoyment. (That sounded a little dirty, didn't it?) At the same time I want this story to be done by around Christmas 2012, which will be quite fitting, I think. It does mean no updates on A Common Spy Problem, but it doesn't mean I've killed off that story. Just think of it this way – you'll still have some Chuck in 2013.
Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review this story and everyone who is still reading. I know the previous chapter was shorter than normal, but I wanted to leave you in a happy place, so hopefully this one will make up for that.
I'm about to face-plant, staying up until nearly 3 a.m. to finish this will do that to you. It would of course all be for naught if I didn't have such a speedy beta in Nervert, who literally returned it in less than five hours. Thanks, buddy, you're a star. Also thank you, Shawnny for your pre-reader comments, they made me smile.
I don't own Chuck.
61. The Walk of Shame
Sarah reached for her mug before propping her elbow up on the back of the couch and settling into a more comfortable position. Resting her temple on her thumb she massaged her forehead where she could still feel her skin tingle. Her headache, if not gone, was forgotten as a smile tugged on the corners of her lips. Maggie's 'cure' had been the sweetest thing she'd ever experienced. Truthfully, the only thought she'd ever given children was that she didn't want any, but after seeing how much Chuck adored his daughter, and spending time with the little girl first hand, Sarah found herself open to the idea of changing her mind. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be a pseudo parent just yet, but there was no denying that the Bartowskis had gotten under her skin in a surprisingly short time.
A voice from the doorway pulled her from her thoughts. "Am I interrupting?"
She sat up straight, relieved that it was her uncle and not Carina, who would never let Sarah live it down if she knew what was going through her head. Sarah wanted to reply, then caught sight of him and nearly dropped her coffee, doubling over laughing.
"It's not funny," Roan grumbled as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.
"So funny." Sarah gasped, searching through the tears for the table to set down her mug. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and stole a glance in her uncle's direction, trying and failing to stifle a fresh burst of giggles.
Roan waited her out, and judging by his expression he did so begrudgingly. Sarah managed to get control over herself and coughed in an attempt to cover up a last snicker. It worked, as long as she didn't look directly at him.
"That's definitely not Giorgio or Hugo," she remarked. She'd never seen him in anything but a tailored suit, so much so that she wouldn't be surprised if he slept in one as well. Wool sweaters were definitely not his style, not to mention a forest green one sporting a really large deer head, complete with a red nose. An amused whimper escaped her throat which she tried to stifle against the back of her hand.
"Two days," Roan said, "she's known me for two days and she's buying me…clothes." He glanced down in disgust. "Who does that?"
"You stayed over after only two days," Sarah pointed out, all sobered up now. "I thought we talked about that."
"You asked me to distract her and that's exactly what I did."
Sarah groaned. This conversation was rapidly heading into disturbing territory. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," she couldn't help but add.
"I always do," Roan replied confidently. "And speaking of sticky situations – " He trailed off, reaching into his pants pocket. "I got you something."
"You shouldn't have," Sarah deadpanned as she eyed the thumb drive he was holding out to her. She had no idea what was on it, but she'd bet her trust fund it wasn't anything good. Then she looked up at him without making a move to take it. "What is it?" she asked.
Roan's gaze bounced from hers to the device in his hands and then to the door. "I ran a background check on your…Charles."
"I didn't ask you to."
"I'm merely looking out for you, kiddo."
Sarah didn't know whether to be touched by his concern or ticked off by his interference in her life, then considered using it as an opportunity to trip him up and find out if he really was a spy or not, but rejected that option. Instead she squared her shoulders and said "If there's anything I need to know, Chuck will tell me."
Granted, she and Chuck had only known each other for a week and that wasn't nearly enough time to discover all each other's secrets, but this was definitely not the way to do it. Besides, Chuck had already told her about Stanford, or at least his side of it, and she believed him. She could imagine what it would look like to an outsider, which was probably how her uncle would see it. And even if he'd found anything more, she preferred to hear it from Chuck himself, in due course. She didn't have to be an expert at relationships to know how important trust was, and how easily it could be broken by snooping. Of course she was wary about putting herself out there again, but if by chance Chuck was willing to risk his happiness, and by extension his daughter's, then she could do the same.
"I appreciate you looking out for me, uncle Roan," she continued, "but there's nothing to worry about. Chuck's sweet and passionate – " Sarah paused to give herself a mental slap. Why did she have to say that? "He's a great dad," she said to cover up her slip, "and he's responsible and funny and – "
"And honest," he added skeptically.
"When I'm not paying him to lie, yeah," she replied lightly.
Roan studied her for a moment, then leaned forward to place the thumb drive in front of her on the coffee table. Sarah immediately slid it back over to his side and stood, gathering her and Chuck's empty mugs.
"I'm going to do this my way," she said, "and for a start, I'm going to learn how to make pancakes." Roan opened his mouth to reply, but Sarah beat him to it. "You're welcome to join us for breakfast, and if you're nice to Chuck, I'll consider telling Beckman that you're allergic to wool."
He didn't respond to that, but instead rose to his feet and slipped the thumb drive into her robe pocket. "I may be wrong, and maybe Charles had nothing to do with this, but you should make sure before you get too involved," he told her, and before she could even think to refute his comment, he was gone.
Sarah was undecided for a moment – she couldn't dismiss her uncle's concern out of hand, but if whatever he thought Chuck had done was that serious, surely uncle Roan would've told her himself. She shook her head, making up her mind. She was looking forward to a day of fun, spending time with Chuck and Maggie, and she was determined to do just that. Whatever issues they had to face would still be there tomorrow.
62. Cooking Lessons
"Hey," Chuck said when Sarah entered the kitchen, "I was starting to think you stood me up."
"Sorry, I ran into uncle Roan." She crossed to the sink, rinsed the mugs and placed them into the dishwasher before washing her hands under the running tap. "Where's Maggie?" she asked.
"Getting her head measured."
Sarah arched a questioning eyebrow over her shoulder and Chuck laughed.
"I was telling her about the horse riding, and Gertrude overheard and offered to pick up some riding gear when she goes to the mall later."
"Oh," Sarah replied, turning to him as she dried her hands, "that won't be necessary. I need a few things too so I'll take care of it. I'll touch base with Gertrude after breakfast." She gestured towards the table where he'd assembled the utensils and ingredients. "What do you need me to do?"
The question caught him by surprise.
"Have you ever cooked?"
"You wound me, Chuck Bartowski. If you must know, I made a chocolate soufflé once."
"Soufflé? That's impressive."
"Not really," Sarah said as she tossed the towel aside, "it caught fire."
"Okay," Chuck said, laughing again, "I guess I'll be in charge of the stove this morning." Actually he had no idea how to make pancakes in tandem with someone else, but Sarah seemed eager to help, so he came up with a plan. "You can mix the wet ingredients and I'll sift the dry ones."
Sarah nodded, chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation as she scanned the counter tops. Then she opened the cupboard doors closest to her, only to close them again, and turned to face him.
"Will you judge me if I tell you I have no idea where the eggbeater is?" she asked.
"No." Chuck couldn't help but grin. "I couldn't find it either, so we'll have to do it the old fashioned way." He picked up a whisk and a bowl and handed them to her. "Will you judge me if I ask you if you can beat eggs?"
"Only if you actually mean 'can' and not 'may'," she teased back, taking the utensils from him.
She set to work, cracking eggs over the bowl while Chuck busied himself with measuring the sugar and baking powder. He watched Sarah from the corner of his eye, amused at the look of concentration on her face, and he had to bite his cheek to refrain from smirking when she mumbled under her breath as she fished out pieces of shell with a teaspoon.
Done with his task, Chuck moved over to the counter to heat up the griddle. Behind him he heard Sarah starting to mix the eggs, but by the sound of it she was merely chasing the yolks around. He turned to find her holding the bowl lightly while maneuvering the whisk in a slow circle. She was clearly new at this. Without thinking, he stepped up behind her.
"Let me show you," he said, his hand over hers gripping the edge of the bowl and tilting it. She let go of the whisk so he could wrap his fingers around it and start beating the eggs with vigor. "When it turns a light yellow, you're done."
"Got it," Sarah replied, nodding. Her hair tickled his chin and the side of his jaw, and Chuck suddenly became very aware of their proximity. With her back pressed against his chest and his arms circling her he'd unintentionally trapped her between him and the table. His hand stilled as his mind started racing. What if she thought he was making a move? He wasn't, was he? He might not have been Mr. Smooth, but even for a nerd, he had better game than that. Sometimes. He was about to take a step back when Sarah craned her neck to look at him.
"I don't think you're done."
It took him a moment to realize she was referring to the eggs. He probably had an appropriate response to that. "God, you smell good," was definitely not it.
Chuck tensed, racking his brain for an explanation or a joke or a nerdy reference, anything really to defuse the situation, but then her gaze dropped to his lips and there was only one thing he could do. He closed the gap, achingly slowly, giving her time to change her mind and pull away, but instead she snaked her free arm around his neck as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Her fingers threaded through his hair, setting his scalp on fire. He could swear he was smelling smoke. Needing to touch her in return he let go of the bowl, vaguely registering that it had landed on its edge, rolling noisily across the table. He made a halfhearted attempt to catch it, only to knock over the flour in the process. It probably made a mess, but he was too captivated by Sarah's lips, parted in anticipation, to care. She wanted him to kiss her. That was the last rational thought he had before his mouth closed over hers.
63. If You Can't Stand the Heat
The feeling of her soft lips under his sent Chuck's pulse soaring. It was different than the night before as that time he'd had to get over his shock first. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine Sarah would just grab him like that. Now he was in control, setting the pace, but it didn't stop his heart from racing and ears from ringing. It did prompt him to deepen the kiss, but the angle was a bit awkward, hampering his intention. He took half a step back, his hands on Sarah's waist prodding her to turn. As she did he briefly broke contact for some much needed air. He was about to seek out her mouth again when she pushed against his chest.
Of course it was too good to be true, he thought.
Inhaling deeply he reluctantly opened his eyes, wondering if she expected him to apologize or to pretend it didn't happen, like last night, but the words died on his lips when he saw Sarah taking a shaky breath, trying to blink herself out of her daze.
Maybe he was wrong.
"Fire," she said.
"Yeah," he replied, nodding in agreement as a grin threatened to split his face in two. She might have cut their little make-out session short, but it was definitely hot.
"No, Chuck." She pointed over his shoulder. "An actual fire."
"What?" he frowned and turned his head. His eyes widened. He'd seen bigger indoor flames, it came with the territory when working with Jeff and Lester, but there was enough smoke to set off the fire detectors. How had he missed that?
Instinctively he let go of Sarah and leaped forward, trying to pull the burning rag from the griddle with his bare hand. It was a stupid move, he realized, when one of the flames licked his finger, causing him to yank his hand back.
"Mother of – " He cut off his own curse by sticking his finger in his mouth to soothe the burn.
"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, suddenly standing next to him. She took his hand to inspect it, seemingly more worried about him than the fact that her kitchen was under threat.
"Fine," he replied, extracting his hand from hers as he looked around for something to put out the fire with. Water and electricity didn't mix and he remembered using the last of the baking soda a few moments ago. If he could just get the rag to the sink…
"What happened?" Beckman asked behind them.
They both swiveled around to face her, standing in the doorway already dressed, looking equally concerned and amused. Chuck nudged Sarah to answer so he could tend to the fire as no one else seemed alarmed about it, but then he froze when he heard his daughter's voice rising above the incessant beeping of the smoke alarm.
"They were kissing!"
He turned to find Maggie sitting at the table with both elbows propped up and her chin resting in her palms, as she watched him and Sarah, who was blushing profusely, with a happy grin. She must've slipped into the kitchen while they were…distracted. Again, Chuck thought, how had he missed that?
"Does this happen a lot?" Beckman asked Maggie, but before she could blow their cover, Casey entered the kitchen with measured steps, holding a fire extinguisher at the ready. Gertrude followed on his heels. He took aim and with three short bursts of foam the flames died out. A fourth gust hit Chuck on the shoulder and the side of his face, some of it landing on Sarah.
"Casey!" Sarah glared at him as she wiped her cheek.
"Sorry," he grunted, "I had to make sure I got it all."
"We will take care of the mess," Gertrude said and ushered everyone out of the kitchen with "I will let you know when breakfast is ready."
Sarah followed Beckman into the hall, leaving Chuck to scoop up Maggie and bring up the rear. Behind him he heard Gertrude's stern "Get the mop, John." He couldn't help but smirk. The big guy was so whipped.
64. Princess Dresses and Fairy Wings
The house was quiet when Sarah returned from her shopping trip. Uncle Roan had taken Beckman out for breakfast, promising to be back in time for their excursion. Carina wouldn't drop by as her mother had blackmailed her into Sunday lunch with the family. Knowing Gertrude, she'd dragged Casey out to go see a movie and Lou had the day off. Chuck and Maggie had the mansion to themselves, and Sarah was glad that they could spend some alone time together without anyone interrupting.
She had expected some signs of life though.
Stopping at Maggie's door she listened for any sounds from the room, but it appeared to be empty. Concluding that they were probably in the den or out back, Sarah continued to her and Chuck's room to offload her packages. Given the contents of what she'd bought, she figured it was a good thing she'd gone to the mall by herself. Carina would've teased her mercilessly.
She pushed the door handle down with her elbow and backed into the room. Turning, she lifted the bags to deposit them on the bed, but stopped just short of dropping them onto Chuck. He lay flat on his back, his ankles crossed and his hands folded over the open comic book draped across his stomach. His head lolled to the side and the curls that he'd almost tamed earlier were sticking out in all directions again.
Sarah smiled to herself as she tiptoed around the bed and carefully placed the shopping on her side. He might look innocent and nerdy, taking his nap, but after his boldness in the kitchen this morning she had a feeling that he had a few surprises up his sleeve. And she was okay with being surprised.
"Hey," he said groggily, pulling Sarah from her thoughts with a start.
"Hi." It came out a pitch too high and she cleared her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Wasn't you." Chuck yawned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, giving the mountain of packages a once over. "I guess you got everything you needed. And some."
Sarah shrugged. "My credit card needed a workout."
He grinned at that as he rolled over onto his side and propped his head onto his fist. "So what did you buy?" he asked playfully, lifting himself up further to try and peek into the closest parcel.
"Are you always this nosy?" Sarah asked, grabbing it before he could get a proper look. He gave her a mock pout, getting an exaggerated eye roll in return. "Fine," she said.
Chuck pumped his free fist in the air as he settled back into his previous position. "I knew you were just bursting to show me." Shaking her head at his antics, she pulled out a pair of child riding boots. "Don't think less of me," he said, "but those are cute. Maggie's going to love them."
Sarah beamed at the comment. "You really think so?"
"Definitely." He glanced at his watch. "Give her another ten minutes and she'll show you. I put her down for an early nap otherwise she'll be cranky by late afternoon."
"Good thinking, but it looks like she's worn you out too."
"Your backyard is massive and she's a lot fitter than I thought." He placed a hand over his heart, as if wounded. "Sadly it seems that my daughter is going to be an athlete and not a nerd."
"Oh, I'm sure you won't let that happen," Sarah replied lightly as she unpacked the rest of the riding gear. Then she opened the lid of one of the boxes and lifted out a pastel pink dress, holding it by the shoulders to let it fall open. "Now I know this isn't exactly nerdy – " She trailed off when Chuck sat upright, suddenly serious. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." He pursed his lips, seemingly contemplating his next words. He exhaled slowly. "Look, all this…it's really sweet of you to do this for Maggie – "
"But," Sarah prompted, trying to ignore the knot that had settled in her gut.
"But you already got her a closet full of clothes she'll probably grow out of before she has the chance to wear them. Please don't get me wrong, I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's just not practical."
"You think I'm spoiling her."
"Just a scosh." He offered her a comforting smile. "If it makes you feel better, I had the same talk with Ellie."
Sarah couldn't really argue with that. "Okay," she said, "I see your point." She looked down at the garment in her hands and back at him. "But this is a princess dress. It's for a special occasion." She'd negotiated her share of business deals. This might have been new territory but that didn't mean she wasn't up for the challenge. "If I promise to run all future purchases pass you, may she keep it?"
Chuck groaned in defeat. "What's the occasion?"
"There's a children's version of the Nutcracker at the Alex Theater in Glendale. I thought Maggie might enjoy it, seeing as she's into ballet." She cocked her head to the side, raising an expectant eyebrow.
"How am I supposed to say no to that?"
"You could try, but then I'll simply resort to bribery," she told him, reveling in her little triumph.
"Actually, that's tempting," Chuck replied and then schooled his features, trying to look solemn. "No."
"Well, if that's how you want to play it – " She lifted the lid off the biggest box and took out a black Stetson, fixing it firmly on Chuck's head before he could react. "Changed your mind yet?"
His eyes nearly rolled back into his head as he tried to get a look at it. "I thought you said no cowboy hats."
"It's quirky. That's one of the reasons I married you, you know…if Beckman asks," she quickly tacked on. They really should talk about last night and this morning, but one battle at a time, Sarah decided, which meant she'd have to save the 'you're a sexy cowboy' comment for later.
"You shouldn't have, but thank you. I'll wear it proudly." He tipped the brim, grinning widely. "And in return I'll give you the dress and the Nutcracker."
"I knew you'd come around."
Chuck hummed in response and stood. The hug took Sarah by surprise, but she returned it instinctively. "One of these days I am gonna learn to say no to you," he said as he stepped back and readjusted his hat. "But it probably won't be soon."
"I hope not." Realizing her hand was still on his arm, she let it drop to her side. "We should get ready."
"Yeah, I'll go wake Maggie." He shot her one last smile before heading for the door. With his hand on the frame he turned his head. "Just so you know," he said, "princess dresses are for every day wear. Fairy wings are for dressing up."
A/N: I never thought I'd quote a four year old, but there you have it. Nervert tweeted that last line a couple of weeks ago and I thought it was the cutest thing ever. Please thank your honorary niece for me, buddy.