Someone asked me why I keep writing Charina and that I should write Charah instead and the pairing 'sux'. Hmm, haven't we already gone through this? I guess I'll humour you this one last time since this isn't the first time I've been asked that question ;)

I write Charina because I like Carina as a character. I like writing about the pairing and I like reading about them. While I don't necessarily have to share it online, (I'm very much aware of the lack of interest in the pairing and that I wouldn't get many reviews seeing that most prefer to read Charah) I do it anyway. Why? Because I think some actually do read it. Although I'll be the first to admit that my stories are not anywhere close to the awesomeness of the Charah stories out there, I think some people read it because they're curious about Charina. That's about all I could come up with.

So all I will say here is that, though my stories (I believed) are just harmless fluff, I think that hardcore Charah shippers who can't stand non-canon pairing, should probably stay away from my stories. And I say that without any bitterness or sarcasm. However, when I do grow tired of all these, I'll probably remove all my stories from this site. But in the meantime, here's another Charina chapter for those who want to read it. It's Halloween themed and it takes place about eight months after chapter 2 ends. As usual, thanks for reading and reviewing in advance and also many thanks to njdevil9 for the prompt. He'll know what I'm talking about if he reads this - minirix :)

(And as always, please forgive the mistakes. I'm sure there'll be many. Feel free to point them out to me though.)

Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck

891… 892… 893…

Chuck pushed away his covers in frustration. Apparently, counting jumping Ewoks couldn't help him get the sleep he so desperately wanted. Reaching to his left, he made a grab for his digital clock.

1.42 a.m.

How long had he been rolling around restlessly on his bed in the hopes of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep? Or more accurately; how many days has it been since he last had any at all?

He opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the lack of light from his surroundings. Except for the bluish glow from the clock, his entire room seemed to be cloaked in unnatural darkness. Not a sound could be heard all around him. He shut his eyes tight as an irrational fear clutched at his heart. He didn't know how long he stayed in that position but then it suddenly happened.

The smooth scent of vanilla.

His body stiffened. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the scent overpowered his whole being. His heart rate spiked to a new high when he heard rustling to his right and moments later, warm air grazing the skin on his cheek.

A muffled sound escaped his throat. Is it a ghost? This is crazy, he thought. His mind was definitely playing tricks on him. Yes. That must be it. The lack of sleep was getting to him.

He nodded with his eyes still shut. And it's Halloween! He could have laughed out loud if he hadn't been shaking.

"That's it," he muttered.

"What's it?" a voice echoed.

"Gaahh!"

A loud thud followed Chuck's girlish scream as he tumbled down from his bed, knocking the clock from the nightstand in the process.

"Don't bite me! I'm not married!" he covered his eyes with his hands.

The room erupted in laughter and Chuck could only whimper in fear. As he listened intently though, his fear gradually morphed into confusion and then suspicion. It sounded familiar.

He peered cautiously and whatever fear he had disappeared.

"Carina!" he shot to his feet and flicked the switch, flooding the room with fluorescent light. "You almost had me killed."

The red head's only response was to double over in laughter while holding her sides. "Bite you?" she said in between her giggling fits, "What the hell, Chuck?" she laughed again. "Am I a vampire?"

"Unbelievable," Chuck muttered. "That's it. I'm revoking your right. No more sneaking up on me in the middle of the night."

Carina slowly sat up on his bed, wiping her tears away. "Come on, Chuckie. I didn't mean to scare you like that. Smooth landing by the way."

"I could've died."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Of a heart attack."

"Then I'll just give you the kiss of life." She grinned at him. "Remember? Paris? You, me, the Eiffel tower?"

"Vaguely," Chuck folded his arms.

"So you don't remember grabbing me and kis-"

"You were the one who kissed me," he cried in panic.

"Ahh, so you do remember. But didn't you kiss me back?"

"I was dead tired after the climb and I was in shock," he whispered sharply. "And it was reflex action."

"Riiight," she said while examining her nails. "And if you get a girl pregnant that's reflex too? You had no choice but to fall on top of her?"

"Oh my God," he began pacing the room. "You're pregnant? That's why you're here isn't it?" The pacing stopped and with a stricken expression, "And it's mine."

She sighed and eyed him with mild weariness. "Chuck," she explained to him slowly, "if I were pregnant, you, have to actually do something to me first and I would have remembered us doing it. No matter how embarrassing that experience may be."

"You could've been drunk."

"Because that's the only way for me to even consider sleeping with you," she drawled resting her back against the headboard.

"Or you could have me lubricated," he immediately grimaced at his choice of words. "I mean, you could've gotten me sufficiently drunk instead."

"Lubricated?" she eyed him slyly. "How?"

"Anyway," he deflected quickly, "what are you doing here? In the middle of the night? Scaring me like this? You know very well-"

"My journey here was fantastic. Thanks so much for asking." Rising to her feet, she walked up to him, "Now that we're done with the nagging, I'll just go bunk with Martin."

"Okay, okay," he whispered a tad guiltily, blocking her path. "Morgan's not around and I wouldn't want you around him anyway."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly."

"But," he added hastily, holding her arms when she tried to leave, "I do apologise for my behaviour. Still, you could have called."

"Where's the fun in that? And why do you keep whispering?"

Pointing to the camera, he said, "I keep forgetting. Someone could be listening."

"Like who? Sarah?"

The name brought a slight hesitation. "I'm just-"

"Look," Carina cut him off, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "The problem with you is, if you keep worrying about your tomorrows, you'll lose sight of what's right in front of you."

Frowning, "You mean, you?"

"Exactly," she nodded with confidence. "I'm what's important right now. So," her nimble fingers pulled his chin down toward her, "attend to me first. I'm your number one priority for the day."

"There's no backing out of this, is there?"

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"On the brink of death?"

"No."

"Sleepy?"

"Kind of."

"Then there's no reason for you not to keep this hot thing entertain, right?"

With a defeated smile, he pulled away from her, strode to the door and swung it open. "Wherever you want to go."

"Now we're talking," she smirked.

It wasn't where she imagined he'd take her. Then again, it was Chuck Bartowski she was talking about here. A wild surprise definitely wasn't on the cards. Still, would it hurt if he were to come up with a more original idea?

"Really, Chuck? The beach is all you can think of?" she sat down glumly with her legs stretched in front of her. Looking to her left and then her right, all she could see was endless stretch of deserted white sand. She wrapped the jacket tighter around her. It was much colder this time around. Not that she will ever admit it to Chuck.

He'd earlier insisted that she bring along his jacket for extra protection against the cold wind. The DEA agent of course, had argued otherwise; that her body was well equipped to handle the rigours of the natural element. Furthermore, she didn't think the oversized leather jacket would match her style.

Snuggling in the warmth of the added layer of clothing, she was grudgingly glad Chuck was nothing if not persistent.

"You did say you wanted to catch a glimpse of Burbank's shooting stars," he settled down beside her. "That," he gestured toward the sky, "is your best shot."

Holding back a response, her hand reached instead for a seashell partially buried in the sand. She inspected it quietly, brushing off the sand away and held it in the palm of her hand. "It's a sand dollar," she said, almost to herself.

"It has a name?" he peered at it with interest.

She simply shrugged and put it back where she found it.

"I thought you gonna keep it?"

"Nah, too much trouble. You gotta soak it in fresh water, bleach it," Carina paused because Chuck was regarding her with curiosity, leaning closer as she spoke.

The ghost of a smile formed on his lips and her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You're a closet seashell collector, aren't you?" he grinned.

Carina rolled her eyes. "It's not me. It's my-" she caught herself and waved a hand dismissively, her eyes searching the sky. "I haven't seen any shooting stars, Chuck. You're lying aren't you? You just wanted an excuse to bring me here so you can do something indecent," she bumped his shoulders.

"If I really wanted to, I'd just do it in the comfort of my room," he snorted.

"But you're scared of Walker," she taunted.

"Am not. Anyway, you're changing the subject but being the gentleman that I am, I'm gonna let it slide. But tell me truthfully," he narrowed his eyes at her, "you're benched aren't you? That's why you're here."

For a brief moment, her calm façade made way for frustration before she spoke, "Is that why you think I'm here… today?"

He hesitated long enough for her to let out a let out a resigned breath. "You wanna celebrate Halloween with us?" Chuck tried hopefully.

"No one said you're the sharpest knife around." She shook her head, her lips etched with a wan smile, the cool mask of indifference sliding back into place.

"Hey, I'm offended by that."

"You're more like the sharpest spoon?"

Looking at her all business-like, Chuck nodded, "I'll take that."

"Of course you would," she snickered. Their eyes briefly met and they were soon chuckling. They sat there in comfortable silence, eyes trained on the night sky, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive shooting star.

As Chuck sat there thinking, an idea – though impossible – presented itself to him. The late night visit, shooting stars, the melancholy… could it be?

"About today," Chuck ventured hesitantly. "I've been thinking. Could it be… your birthday?"

For a second, Chuck could've sworn he saw a flicker of surprise flashed across her calm expression – which should be an indication that he was probably right. However, logic soon prevailed over suspicions.

In his mind, he could see no reason why a top D.E.A. agent like Carina would want to spend her birthday with a nerd like him. They weren't exactly best friend although he would admit that their trip to Paris and her subsequent surprise visits to Casa Bartowski had gotten them closer. At least close enough for the term 'friends' to be mentioned loosely when describing their relationship.

Nonetheless, "Is it?" he pressed on.

An enigmatic smile played on her lips. "Does that any make sense to you?"

He opened his mouth to speak before closing it. Jutting his lower lips with a thoughtful frown, he cocked his head as he regarded her, and at long last, "It doesn't," he said slowly. "But your actions seemed to say otherwise."

Without explaining further, Carina simply rolled her shoulders back and stretched her limbs. "If you say so, Chuck."

Chuck watched her lean back, her arms supporting her weight. She said nothing more as she raised her eyes once again to the heavens.

"So what's the deal between you and Walker?" she asked out of the blue.

"You're not sharing. I'm not telling," he looked petulantly at her.

"Fine," she laughed. "Be that way."

"Fine," he retorted back fully intending on keeping mum. Of course Chuck could never be silent for long.

"You know what," he said, exasperation in his voice, "this is unfair. Friends share."

Still not looking at him, she smirked, "Depends on what I'm sharing."

He moved into her view, pushing her legs aside. "See there," he pointed at her with mounting agitation. "You do that all the time."

"Do what?"

"Deflecting. You'd never shown me anything real, at least not where your real emotion is concerned. I've always been honest with you."

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she considered his rant with bemusement.

"Have you?"

"I," he stammered. "Well I might have omitted several details but I didn't lie to you."

"Huh," she placed her hands one on top of the other on her knees and rested her chin on them. "So you've omitted certain things. But of course, lying by omission is not lying per se."

"You're doing it again. Playing around with words. And sarcasm. You're big on that."

"You're really are mad at me aren't you?" she suppressed a chuckle by covering her lips with her hand. It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Chuck - which further infuriated him.

"I saw that," he said.

"Fine. What do you want me to do exactly?" she tried the serious look.

"You're mocking me."

"I'm not," she protested, feeling a little annoyed.

Chuck studied her closely. Never one to back down, Carina held his gaze, refusing to even blink.

"Treat me like I'm your friend," Chuck said.

That seemed to elicit a reaction. "Isn't that what we are?" she asked.

"No, that's what you are to me. Friends confide in one another. I've told you about my situation with Sarah. I've discussed my feelings with you. I go wherever, do whatever you want me to do. I've never pressed you for anything even when I could see that something's bothering you. I know that there are things about your job that should remain a secret. But there comes a point when you have to start trusting me. I know that we haven't been friends for long but the fact that you kept springing these surprise visits on me ever since Paris, I thought that at the very least, you're comfortable enough to talk to me about what's on your mind. But this is getting ridiculous. It's been almost eight months since then and I don't even know what your favourite food is. You know, for all your posturing, your supposed free-spirit, you're even more closed off than Sarah Walker."

Throughout his outburst, her expression grew more and more passive. A master at guarding her feelings, her heart was rarely troubled by something as trivial as a nerd's rant. On the exceptional occasion when it did- like now for instant – she didn't know how to deal with it. Hence cool detachment had been a necessary defense mechanism.

She remained collected, hardly displaying any signs of discontent. She thought long and hard about what he'd said, and the more Carina replayed the words, the more unjustly accused she felt.

"Are you done?" she asked, the irritation simmering beneath her calm exterior. Without waiting for his reply, Carina rose to her feet as she smoothly wiped off the sand from her jeans. Barely affording a glance his way, she sauntered off in muted silence.

Chuck rubbed his face in frustration as he watched her leave. Did he go too far? For a moment, he sat there feeling torn. Should he go after her or should he give her the space she wanted?

It was only when she was a distance away that he finally made up his mind. He got up and gave chase.

"Carina, wait," he called out to her.

She kept on walking until he reached her and not for the first time that night, blocked her path.

"Look," he started, trying to get her attention. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn't?"

"Okay, I did but I shouldn't have acted like a jerk."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Really?" he asked in astonishment.

"Yeah. You were more like a jackass," she faked a smile.

He hung his head and conceded, "I probably deserved that."

"But," she folded her arms, tilting her head.

He hedged for a while and looked up at her. "But I'm partly right? That you still don't really trust me?"

"Not trusting someone and not telling them things are two different things," she said tiredly. "Just because I didn't tell you that my favourite food is chocolate, that doesn't mean I don't trust you."

"I was just using that as an example," he mumbled but then he perked up. "Chocolate? For real? Wait, does that mean you trust me?" he smiled in amazement.

She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying the fact; letting her silence answer his question as she continued her stroll down the beach. Allowing Carina to walk a few steps ahead, Chuck followed wordlessly behind.

Perhaps it was the stars shining like jewels in the vast black sky and the moon causing the sea to shimmer beneath its glow, but the night seemed especially otherworldly. And as he fixed his attention back on Carina, it struck him how lonely she appeared, how pensive she'd seemed throughout the night even when she was putting up a cheerful front. Expecting Carina to reveal the contents of her thoughts was out of the question. She divulged almost nothing.

He stopped in his tracks, bending down to pick up a seashell. "Not just a seashell," Chuck remarked as he eyed Carina whose solitary walk has apparently ended. Rooted to a spot with the waves lapping at her feet, she seemed oblivious not only to his presence but the dipping temperature as well while she stared into the far distance. A sand dollar, huh, he mused to himself and walking up to her, he said, "If I ever see that shooting star, do you know what I'm gonna wish for?"

From where he was standing he could see her smile but aside from that, she'd said nothing. "For just one day, I wish, I really wish, that I know what it's like to walk in your shoes. To know what you're thinking. What makes you- whoa!" his eyes bulged as he staggered to maintain his balance. His hand went up to his chest, touching the spot where he'd felt a powerful jolt of electricity.

"What the hell," murmured Chuck and when he looked up, he found Carina staring back at him, her hands to her own chest. As he started to speak, the world around him started to spin wildly and the last thing he saw was a bright white spark before darkness engulfed him entirely.

It could be hours or maybe minutes, but when he came to, his entire limbs felt almost disjointed. He was experiencing light headedness and disorientation. Giving his head a shake, Chuck began massaging his temple, his blurry vision beginning to focus. Eventually, feeling a little better, he reached for his chest and panic seeped in.

Oh, God, no… Chuck began hyperventilating. Cautiously letting his eyes travel south; he began bursting out in horrified screams, the three words going over and over again in his mind: I have breasts! And with that, Chuck Bartowski finally fainted.