DISCLAIMER: I don't own Chuck. *I don't own Cranium.

Sarah Walker Bartowski was exhausted. It was a nice warm Saturday afternoon, and she was enjoying some peace and quiet on her deck. It was well deserved rest, she thought, after making breakfast for her, as Chuck calls them, "Demon Children", sorting the twins constant arguing, having a heart to heart with Sam, and locating all the pieces to their Cranium* board game. It was game night at the Woodcombs and since it was Ellie and Awesome's turn to host, it was the Bartowski's turn to bring the games. She sipped a glass of ice tea she had made from scratch. Yes, she deserved to relax now, she reaffirmed with herself.

She picked up her phone and reviewed her texts. She smiled as she reread her most recent conversations with Chuck.

8:36am Chuck "Hey sry again abt having to leave early. Luv u."

9:17am Sarah "Just got kids up. Brkfast time. Pancakes. U2"

9:20am Chuck "Yum. Oh you're jamming to U2? "

9:21am Sarah "That's a terrible joke :P"

9:21am Chuck "Nt if it made you . Which I knw it did."

He's right, it did make her smile. She scrolls up to the next series of texts.

1:47pm Chuck "Just got out of meet. Ug super long."

1:49pm Sarah "Lots of money? $$"

1:50pm Chuck "Always about the dough, eh?"

1:52pm Sarah "Only reason I married u. xoxo"

1:53pm Chuck ":'( heading onto road now 3"

Sarah checked the time. 2:40pm. Chuck would be home soon. She slipped her phone back into her pocket and sighed, leaning back on the lounge chair. She should definitely make more time to sit out here. Crossing her arms in a relaxed way, she feels something slimy on her upper arm. Oops, didn't get all the batter off. After 14 years of cooking for her children, she was still somehow a rookie in the kitchen. She'd be more concerned, but Chuck quiet enjoyed cooking for the kids, so it was easy to leave it to him. It was handy that Chuck's taste in food matched up perfectly with all three of them. The kitchen was always disaster after she cooked anyway, so everyone agreed she should try and stay away from it. She remembered the debacle she had in the kitchen, this morning.

"Mom, I can't find a towel!" Stephen shouted from their upstairs bathroom. He was taking his mandatory morning shower, following Emma. Sarah rolled her eyes. The pancake batter was all over her hands after she tried to scoop out the eggs shells she had accidently shattered into the bowl. She did not have Chuck's delicate touch. I really don't know my own strength. Afterrunning her hands under the cold water, and wiping away the gross goop, she hollered back.

"You know where the towels are. They're where they always are."

"NO THEY'RE NOT! Emma has a towel, but she won't give it to me." Sarah heard Emma give a shriek, followed by a thump.

"OW! That hurt Em!"

Sarah groaned out loud in frustration. Now they're going to start the roughhousing. Casting a weary glance at the pancakes she had just set on the griddle, she sprinted upstairs to put an end to the fight. On the way to the twin's shared bedroom, she stopped to rap loudly on Sam's door.

"Get up Sam, I have to sort out your brother and sister! There's pancakes on the griddle, go watch them!" She received a groan in response. She continued down the hall pushed open the ajar door. Stephen's head was completely covered by the towel, while Emma stood behind him holding it in place. He was frantically flailing his hands around behind him, trying in vain to hit his target. Emma had clearly already won the fight. She always does.

"OKAY ENOUGH." Emma immediately dropped the towel and took a step back. Stephen fell over backwards. Sarah stormed up and whipped the towel off his head, pulled him up and held the towel out. "You ask nicely for other people's things, Stephen. Now shower." He quickly took it and sulked off. "Emma, why would you just let him have the da-" she caught herself before she swore. "-dang, the dang towel."

"Because I had it first." Emma replies calmly, she thought it was a perfectly valid argument.

"You're dressed and dry; were you still using it?"

"No. But I-" Sarah held up a hand.

"You share, especially if you have something you don't need, that someone else does. Having it first is not an excuse. Come for breakfast." Sarah turned and left, closing the twin's bedroom door.

The unpleasant smell of burnt food greeted her. She did swear this time. Loudly.

"SAAAAM!"

She raced past her older daughter's bedroom . The door flung open and a bedheaded teenager staggered out.

"Whaterya screamin' bout?"

"PAAAANCAAAKES!" Sarah yelled, as her feet touched the floor at the bottom of the stairs. She skidded to a halt in the kitchen. And she swore again. Smoke was issuing out from under the pancakes at an alarming rate. She flipped them onto their completely uncooked side and again, swore. They cooked side of the pancake was as black as coal. After throwing open the kitchen window she grabbed a kitchen towel and started venting the smoke out.

"Wow, sometimes Daddy's are brown but, wow look at that!" Emma had made her way into the kitchen, pinching her nose closed to avoid the smell. Sarah growled.

"SAM, why didn't you watch the pancakes?" She asked as she wandered in, looking very confused.

"…how was I supposed to do that? I was… asleep?"

"Hey I remember why we have no towels! We used them to dry the kitchen!" Stephen said brightly as he took a seat at the breakfast bar. He was acting as if his mother standing over burnt food, looking very haggard was nothing unusual. "Remember Em?" Emma jumped up to the chair beside him and laughed.

"Yeah, and Daddy probably used a lot too."

Sarah grumbled and served them their pancakes.

Sarah was surprised when they had eaten them as fast as they eat Chuck's beautiful pancakes. Maybe it had more to do with her adding twice the syrup; she did to make up for the terrible pancakes. She took a long gulp from her ice tea. It was very refreshing. I least I didn't burn this. She sighed again and checked her watch 3:00pm. Hurry up Chuck.

"Sam, hold on, I want to talk to you." Sarah stopped her right after they had cleaned up breakfast. The kitchen had been such an unrecognisable mess; she had enlisted all of them to help her. She grinded her teeth, remembering Emma looking at her with a dead serious face, "Mom, I hope you know pancakes batter should not be on Eddie's water bow; I mean seriously Mom."

"Oh Mom, I'm sorry, I really didn't hear you ask me to watch them. I'm really, really sorry, though."

"What? No, no, not that. I don't mean that." Sarah took a seat at the breakfast counter and patted the chair next to her. Syrup came off on her hand. "Oh ew. Um, come sit Sam." She wiped her hand on her pants; they were already far beyond clean. Sam took the seat.

"I'm not mad about you drinking last night-"

"Oh yeah, and what about Dad?" Oh great, she was already set on being disagreeable with her. Sam sat back in her chair and avoided her gaze.

"Your Dad…" Sarah searched for words. "Your Dad's mad because he told you not to, you said you wouldn't, and you did anyway." Sam shifted her glance to her hands. "He's hurt."

"Well, I couldn't have exactly told him that I wanted to try beer." She scoffed. Sarah was slightly taken aback.

"You planned to drink?"

"Well no… everyone else was, my friends were and… they convinced me a sip wouldn't hurt.. Which it didn't." Sam added emphatically. Then she squirmed in her chair. "They said he'd never know."

"He's less mad about the alcohol than he is about losing some control. He used to do everything for you and know what you did 24/7. He's scared of what alcohol, drugs, and whatever could do to you."

"He scared I'll become an alcoholic junkie?

"Yep," Sarah chuckled. "Y'know, I had my first taste of beer when I was 13. Don't tell your father," she added quickly. She really didn't need a reprimanding from Chuck.

"Sure. He's a really stickler for rules, Dad."

"Yeah I think he's the only guy in Los Angeles, who waited 'till he was of legal age before he drank."

"Sounds like Dad," Sam said warmly.

The loud trill of her cell phone woke her up. She must have dozed off in the warm sun. She sat for a few seconds, gathering her surroundings. Slipping her hand into her pants pocket, she pulled out the annoying device. Ellie. Checking we're on for game night. Like always. Ellie Woodcomb was a very predictable woman.

"Hey Ellie! And yes, before you ask, we will be there, on time, and on schedule."

"Sarah…" Why's Ellie sound so worried? Like we'd forget the game. Again.

"We're bringing Cranium*! Silly kids lost a lot of the acces-"

"Sarah!" She heard desperation in Ellie's voice this time. 'Sarah, I just-just called Chuck and- and he was fine, but then-then he dropped the phone or something and-and he was yelling at someone!" Sarah sat up in her chair. "I didn't know what-what was-" Sarah's heartbeat was doing triple time as Ellie stuttered through the words.

"Ellie stop! Back up! I have no idea what you're trying to tell me!" Her voice was calm but firm. Having been through many emergency situations, she knew she had to stay calm; her heart was anything but. Ellie took a shaky breath on the other line.

"I called Chuck to check about game night. He answered, and he was fine, but then something happened, he dropped the phone. I think he was attacked." Sarah was already in the house and starting up her laptop, when Ellie finished.

"Chuck always wears the Goveneror, it has a tracking device. I gonna get his coordinates-"

"Highway! He's on the highway!" Ellie shouts through the line. Sarah pauses, her mind overworking.

"Wait, wait, Ellie he talked to you after he was attacked?" She clenched her fists in frustration. The computer was taking too long to acquire his coordinates. HURRY UP YOU GODDAMN-

"Yes, yes, he picked- he picked up the phone again- and he said…" Ellie hesitated.

"ELLIE COME ON" Sarah was officially not calm. No Sarah was freaking out. She was hyperventilating and itching to jump into her car and just drive until she found Chuck.

"He said he needed help and that he was d-dying!" She blured out in a sob. Sarah felt like someone sucker-punched her in the gut.

Beep!

The computer had the co-ordinates.

Author's Note:

So apparently I like reading reviews. (wink, wink)