I... sorry... about, uh... you know.

Chuck was leaning against a wall in the main room, turning his pistol over in his hands, getting used to its weight. He tried raising it to eye level and looked down its barrel at the opposite wall. His hands were positioned carefully on the grip, index finger pointing past the trigger. Sarah had showed him this position a long time ago, a month or two after she and Casey first arrived. She hadn't been planning on actually giving him a firearm, but in the interest of safety and preparedness, she had showed him anyway.

Regardless, Chuck still had never fired a gun before. He knew how it worked ("Squeeze the trigger, don't pull it" and all that), but actually holding one, seeing the fluorescent lights reflect down the metal, made him feel more and more afraid of actually using it. He knew that a real spy had to be able to use one, and the lives of his closest friends and family might one day depend on him being able to pull-no, squeeze- the trigger. Sure, he had imagined doing so before, saving the day, impressing everyone and eventually no longer needing to keep half of his life a secret. Hadn't everyone at some point imagined doing something heroic like that?

But now that he actually had a firearm, he suddenly couldn't stop envisioning a bullet ripping into someone, tearing through muscle and bone. Ending someone's life, forever cutting them off from their family, their friends. It would take a certain amount of… as horrible as it sounded, Chuck had to admit it took a certain amount of bravery to kill someone. Sarah was brave like that, and in other ways as well, of course. Casey was brave like that. Chuck wasn't.

Could he be?

Chuck lowered the gun and blinked. He seriously needed to get out of his head and stop going through these spiritual crises in the middle of disaster situations. He glanced down and slid the gun into the holster Sarah had given him. Then he immediately took it back out to check the safety for the fifth time. He knew it was on, but he couldn't shake the mental image of accidentally shooting himself in the foot and ruining everything.

The safety was on. Chuck sighed and put the pistol back in its holster.

Ellie strode in, holding another first aid kit. "Alright, Chuck," she announced, setting the kit on the table. "I'm gonna change those bandages, and if you resist, I will get Devon in here to hold you down and it's gonna happen anyway."

Chuck looked at her for a moment, feigning aggravation. "Fine," he said sulkily. "Just know that I protest and my side is fine."

"Noted. Now sit down."

Chuck complied and let Ellie unbutton his shirt and lift his undershirt. After she carefully peeled off the bandages, she set them on the table and sat back a little. Chuck took the opportunity to study the face he knew so well. He was concerned to see a few more lines of worry and stress than were usually apparent on his sister's face. Which would make sense, of course, but he didn't have to like it.

He frowned. "Hey, are you okay?"

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm fine," she assured him. "I just can't believe you're a spy and now I'm sitting in your secret base treating one of your gunshot wounds."

Chuck laughed a little uncomfortably, unsure of whether he believed her or not. "Yeah. Kinda crazy, huh?"

"That's one way of putting it." Ellie busied herself with the kit and said no more. Silence descended on the pair, heavy and awkward. Chuck fixed his eyes on the wall opposite him and tried to think of something to say. He wasn't even sure why the silence was awkward to begin with. It wasn't like his sister had never seen him shirtless before. They lived together; such a feat would be nearly impossible to pull off. Besides, they were siblings. They weren't supposed to be awkward.

Chuck finally decided to just ask her. Surely it was nothing and he was just being oversensitive. But if there was something going on, being direct about it was probably a better idea than dancing around it and then accidentally offending her later on, which he knew he would probably manage to do somehow.

Before Chuck could say anything, Devon emerged from the hallway. He leaned forward, anchoring himself on the doorframe behind him with one hand. "Hey, babe?"

Ellie paused what she was doing and turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"I…" Devon stopped. "Oh, hey, Chuck. You doing alright?"

Chuck forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm good." Almost as soon as he said it, he heard the strain in his voice. Even with the short nap he could taken earlier (enforced by the near concussion he'd received), he could feel his body beginning to drag. He'd gotten little sleep the night before, and it was going to take its toll before this nightmare situation was over.

Devon clearly didn't entirely believe Chuck, but grinned in return. "Good."

"Did you need something?" Ellie asked pointedly.

Devon blinked. "Oh, yeah! I was going to ask if you were hungry. Because I was looking around back there," he motioned vaguely behind his back, "and I found this great big pantry and an awesome kitchen and I figured I could cook something up."

"We have a kitchen?" Chuck asked, amazed. "Man, I seriously need to spend more time down here."

Ellie shrugged in response to her fiance. "I'm okay. We ate before going to the Buy More earlier."

"Well, yeah, I know." Devon frowned. "But that was hours ago and we've been through a lot. I know I'm starving."

"Then make something for yourself!" Ellie snapped suddenly. "I'm clearly busy." Her words rang out into the room harshly.

Chuck and Devon exchanged bewildered looks, neither able to identify the reason for her frustration. "Okay, babe," Devon said carefully. "Just let me know if you change your mind, okay?" Ellie didn't reply. Chuck raised his eyebrows at Devon, who shrugged and mouthed, No idea, before leaving the room.

There were another few seconds of silence before Chuck worked up the courage to ask, "Ellie?"

"What." Terse and clearly not inviting conversation.

Chuck swallowed. "I know you said earlier that you're fine, but I kind of don't believe you."

"Why not?" Ellie asked, her voice flat and emotionless. She didn't raise her head to look at him.

"Uh…" Chuck wasn't sure how to go about this. He had decided to be straightforward earlier, but now that he was entering the warzone, he was regretting that choice. Chuck was notoriously bad at getting signals or reading between the lines. One would think that, having lived with Ellie almost nonstop since he was a child, she'd be the easiest to read.

One would be wrong to think so.

Chuck forged ahead anyway, bracing for impact. "You're acting weird."

Ellie's hands stopped moving. "Weird."

Crap. I'm dead, I am so dead, I should've just kept my mouth shut. She's the one with ready access to needles!

"Yeah." He chuckled uncomfortably. "Kind of rude, too."

WHEN WILL MY MOUTH STOP TALKING.

"Mmm." Ellie's hands began to move again, grabbing some clean bandages. She began to gently push them against Chuck's side, but said nothing else. Her shoulders were tight with pent up emotion or energy. It was difficult to tell which.

Chuck was unbelievably tense. His hands started shaking, and he buried them in his lap, hoping to still them before Ellie noticed. If he could've, he'd melt into a puddle right there and save Tony and his gang the trouble. This was the calm before the storm. Chuck knew it well, being surrounded with capable women who were all smarter than he was.

He knew the routine: 1) Chuck says something stupid, 2) lady (usually Sarah or Ellie) gives him a moment to realize his mistake, 3) Chuck digs his hole deeper beyond any rescue, 4) Sarah/Ellie pauses to restrain herself from punching him (Sarah) or kicking him out (Ellie), 5) Chuck is still confused, 6) a beat of silence as Sarah/Ellie draws in breath and Chuck prepares, then BAM.

Category 5 hurricane of insults, guilt trips, and explained signals that seem so obvious in hindsight comes flying at him with winds over a hundred miles an hour.

Ellie's hurricane was building. Chuck could feel it. All the running and escaping he had done earlier was all for nothing, because he was about to be murdered by his sister for finally reaching the absolute end of her patience. It had only been a matter of time, he supposed. He was, admittedly, rather thick headed, and a woman could only take so much.

Ellie finished with the bandage and straightened. Chuck prepared himself for her wrath. She looked him in the eye, breathed out slowly, then said, "Huh. Sorry."

Then she stood and walked away.

Chuck's eyes were stuck on the chair Ellie had just vacated. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. He had never felt more confused in his entire life. After a second, he slowly looked up. Ellie had left the room without another word. Nothing. She just… apologized. Then left.

Chuck groaned and let his face fall into his hands. "Ugh, this is so much worse then the hurricane," he complained. If she wasn't willing to tell him about it, then it was either something so bad that she didn't feel comfortable telling him about it or it was something that she, for some reason, wanted kept a secret. Both options seemed worse than her usual temper.

As Chuck contemplated his near-certain doom, Sarah swept into the room, already talking. "Alright, Chuck," she announced, slapping some papers on the table. Chuck's head shot up and he focused on her. She sat at the table and looked at him. Her face was flushed, like she had just run somewhere. Her blue eyes shone.

Chuck looked at the papers. "What's happening?"

Sarah smiled. "Well, I've decided that, instead of arguing and fighting over everything as we're figuring them out, we should actually come up with a plan. So, I found these blueprints of the store, because we have copies of the blueprints of significant buildings around town, and I figured we could come up with something." She quickly pulled her hair up into a ponytail as she talked.

"Wait, the Buy More is considered 'a significant building'?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. You work there."

"Good point," Chuck conceded. "Any ideas so far?"

Sarah shrugged. "No, not really, I haven't started thinking about it seriously yet. I did get some numbers, though, from surveillance footage."

She spread out the blueprint of the store and weighted it down on the four corners with a few pencils she had grabbed. "From what I can tell from the footage, there are eleven gunmen and four hostages, excluding Ellie and Awesome, since they've escaped." She drew a circle near the center of the store, a few aisles away from Chuck's desk. "This is where the four hostages are," she explained.

"Who are they?" Chuck asked.

"No one I can put a name with," Sarah said. "There's a girl-early twenties, probably-an older couple, and a middle-aged man. It looked like most of them were trying to sleep."

Chuck rubbed the back of his neck. Identifying the hostages as people instead of just "the hostages" suddenly made the situation more real to him. They were individuals with their own stories and motives and ideas and families and friends, and if Chuck and Sarah couldn't get them out safely, all of that would be brought to a grinding, bloody halt.

Sarah moved on. "Now, there is one woman outside, guarding the back door. We saw her." Chuck nodded. The woman who had been about to shoot Jeff and Lester when he had barged through the door with Sarah in tow.

He'd probably have to deal with them at some point, but he didn't want to think about it yet. The longer he could put that off, the better.

Sarah marked an x outside the back door. "Two of the gunmen are down already. There's that guy from the TV room, Jake." She put an x in the viewing room, added a circle around it to mark him as out of the action.

"Yeah," Chuck said, reminiscing grimly. "You whacked him with your pistol."

"Not my finest moment. He could wake up in a few hours, though," Sarah pointed out, "so if we don't do this efficiently, we might have one more to deal with."

Chuck thought back through the hectic day. "Wait, who's the other guy?"

Sarah didn't look up at him. "Henry. He tried to keep me from escaping when Tony first tipped his hand. I may have beaten him to a pulp." Because he kept threatening to shoot you, she thought but didn't add.

Chuck raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Well, I guess that's that, then." Another reminder to never get on Sarah's bad side.

"Yep." Sarah moved on quickly. "Anyway, there's one more guy by the hostage circles, and the rest are spread throughout the store. It looks like one or two might be in the back as well." She sat back.

Chuck suddenly remembered that their team was originally made of three people. "What about Casey?" he asked guiltily.

Sarah bit her lip. Chuck struggled to keep his attention on her eyes. "I couldn't see him," she admitted. "They must have him hidden somewhere."

Chuck whistled. "So, eleven people with guns versus you and me." He smiled at Sarah rakishly. "Easy as pie."

Sarah grinned back. "Exactly."

The moment passed. Sarah sighed lengthily, the full weight of the situation pressing in over her forced optimism. "I'm going to be honest, Chuck. Doing this alone is going to be… difficult, to say the least."

"Which is why you are NOT going in there alone!" a voice suddenly screeched.

Chuck jumped so high his knee banged against the table and he felt like he had ripped out his stitches. Sarah had her gun drawn and was aiming it around the room in quick movements, trying desperately to identify who the speaker was. "Who said that?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

"Oh, calm down, Walker," the voice said. Sarah and Chuck spun to follow the voice to its origin.

General Beckman was sitting in her office, her arms crossed and her face pinched. She put on her glasses to see them better through the screen. "It's just me," she continued. "Now, I'm going to need the both of you to stay right where you are."

Sarah took a few seconds to calm her breathing before slowly lowering the gun. "General," she breathed out. "You scared me half to death."

Chuck was clutching his side. "Yep," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Same here. Not fun time."

Sarah's head whipped around to look at him, immediately forgetting what the general had said. "Chuck!" she exclaimed. "Did you reopen your wound?" She began to stand and move toward him, but Chuck waved her down.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted. The grimace on his face was not convincing, but after a few seconds of indecision, Sarah sat back down. She looked troubled. "Chuck, if it reopens, you need to tell me," she insisted seriously.

Chuck waved her off again. "I will, but it's fine, I promise. Ellie literally just rebandaged it. I'm fine." Chuck forced himself to smile again at Sarah, trying to mask the pain. It was fading, but for a few seconds, it had felt like someone had shot him again. Now it only felt like someone had shot him with a high-powered airsoft gun at point blank range. Several times.

"We cannot afford for you to get shot, Bartowski," the general noted. "If you die, the past two years will all have been for nothing." She shot a glance at Sarah. "Not to mention you would be… missed. By some."

Chuck tried to sit upright again. "Appreciate the sentiment, General."

"Anyway," the general said. "Like I said before, Walker, you and Bartowski must remain in Castle and wait for backup."

"What?" Sarah asked, registering the general's words for the first time. "We can't do that. There are hostages in there-"

"And if you get them killed, the NSA won't be able to spin the story into anything positive, which is already going to be difficult enough as is," the general interrupted. "The best plan of action is for you to stay out of the way. A force is on its way-"

"We don't have time!" Sarah insisted. "Tony isn't going to wait for us to gather reinforcements. Sooner or later, he's going to make his move, and if we don't prevent him, who knows what harm he could do?"

The general shook her head. "We'll have to take that chance. It's better than sending the best and only agent in the area into a loaded situation like this one."

Chuck raised his hand meekly. "Uh, I'm also here. Just to make that clear."

The women ignored him. "General!" Sarah protested. "I can't just… sit here and wait!"

Chuck muttered something under his breath about knowing how he feels.

Before the general could respond, Devon and Ellie burst into the room. "Chuck!" Ellie shouted worriedly. "What-"

She stopped when she saw the general. They made eye contact. "Oh," was all Ellie could say.

Devon waved.

General Beckman's face turned an unnatural shade of red. Chuck could almost see steam coming out of her ears. "Walker," she growled. "Explain. Now."

"They're not important right now," Sarah said dismissively.

Ellie made a squeaking sound. "What?"

Sarah tried to continue, but the general glared her into silence. "Walker, let me get this straight. Your assignment was to oversee a basic handoff operation with the help of one of the NSA's best, and within six hours, you have let a group of brainless gang members with guns take over a store, capture an NSA agent (yes, we know about Casey), take several peaceful citizens hostage, let the Intersect get shot, and now you have let two random civilians into Castle, our secret headquarters?"

"They aren't just random civilians!" Chuck protested.

"Bartowski!" General Beckman cut across him sharply. "I don't care who they are, they are not cleared for access to Castle and cannot have access to the military secrets that are kept there."

"So, what, are you just going to kick them out or something?" Chuck asked. "Where can they go? All our exits are either covered by gang members or surrounded by the media. If they just suddenly show up in a frozen yogurt shop now, after hours of supposedly being held in the store next door, you don't think some questions will be asked?"

Sarah laid a warning hand on Chuck's arm. "Look, General, we understand that we are in a… complicated situation…"

"Complicated is one way to put it," General Beckman said through clenched teeth.

Sarah tried to swallow subtly. "But we can't just do nothing."

"And you can't exactly go in guns blazing either," the general said. "There aren't enough of you. And besides, Bartowski has already been injured once and you've recklessly endangered the lives of two civilians."

Ellie had finally had enough of being referred to as if she weren't there. "Excuse me, General," she announced, stepping forward against the table. "I am not just some 'civilian,' I am Chuck's sister, and I don't care who you are, but I am not going to just leave him here when-"

"Ellie!" Sarah hissed.

"No, she's right." Devon drew himself up and crossed his arms. "We aren't going to leave Chuck here alone. That's not right."

Sarah glared at him. "He wouldn't be alone," she reminded him in a dangerous voice.

"And regardless," the general said over all three of them, "I have the power to ruin both of your lives if you do insist on this meaningless charade of bravery."

Ellie squinted at her. "And just who do you think you are?"

"Brigadier General Diane Beckman, Director of the National Security Agency. And you?"

Ellie couldn't keep the slight sneer off her lips. "Ah. I see." Her eyes were sparking dangerously, but she kept her mouth shut. Devon's jaw clenched.

The general raised an eyebrow. "Now, listen to me. I understand that emotions tend to run high in situations like this, but if you would just keep calm and use your head, you would all see that what I'm telling you to do is the best course of action here."

After a pause, she added, directed toward Sarah and Chuck, "Again, I can fire the both of you as well if you refuse."

Chuck slumped in his chair. He looked across the table at Sarah, whose hand was still gripping his arm, but he wasn't going to complain. She was staring at the screen with her eyebrows drawn together tightly. Her mouth was in a tense line. "Sarah," he said hopelessly. "I don't think we have a choice here."

Sarah didn't move.

General Beckman nodded. "Well, it's good to see that at least one of you has some common sense. Although I'd never have expected it to be you, Bartowski."

Devon looked around the room. "Wait, so we're just gonna give up?" His handsome face was contorted in confusion.

General Beckman straightened. "You are. And in case I'm not being straightforward, here it is in terms all four of you should understand." She leaned forward, her eyes specifically fixed on Sarah, who wasn't meeting her gaze. "As the Director of the National Security Agency, I, Diane Beckman, am officially ordering agents Sarah Walker and Charles Bartowski to- Sarah, wait, what are you-?"

Her panicked voice cut off abruptly, along with her image on the screen.

Chuck stared where the general had disappeared from for a few seconds before turning his head toward Sarah, his brain working overtime. She was panting lightly, the hand that had been resting on his arm now in the air, pointing a remote toward the tv. Her arm was shaking slightly.

"Um, Sarah?" he asked gently. "She gave us a direct order-"

"No," Sarah corrected him forcefully. "She was about to give us a direct order. But the connection cut out before she could finish. Now, since we have no instructions to follow, we will have to continue through this situation to the best of our abilities with what limited knowledge and firepower we have. Which, I suppose, means we'll have to follow what we deem the best course of action."

Chuck's jaw dropped an inch.

Ellie started forward. "And since the connection cut off, we haven't been able to reconnect with the general. Not for lack of trying, of course," she said as she yanked the tv's cord out of the wall. "There appears to be some issue in the wiring that Chuck isn't able to fix without the correct parts and tools."

"Which are all inside the Buy More," Sarah agreed, standing. "So in order for us to get back in touch with the general and hear what exactly she is ordering us to do…"

"We'll have to sneak back inside the store," Ellie finished for her. They both grinned and high-fived each other. "Good plan."

Devon stuttered a few syllables before relapsing into silence, staring at his fiance in shock. Ellie turned an uncharacteristically evil smile on him, and his knees almost buckled.

Chuck had similar difficulties trying to get any words out. He settled for a choked "Sarah!"

She flashed a sweet smile on him, a different approach that had the same effect on his knees that Ellie had on Devon's. "Yes, Chuck?"

"You-we can't just-isn't this-"

Sarah sighed. "Look. I… I know this is… unconventional."

"You can say that again," Chuck muttered.

"But you know that we can't just wait here, right?" Sarah circled the table and leaned back against its edge, less than a foot from Chuck's seat. "I know we keep fighting about how to do it and who should do it, but we both know that something has to be done."

Chuck ran a hand through his rumpled hair, which had started rather messy in the morning and had only gotten worse from there. "Yeah, I know."

"Look, I'm glad we all get along now, and I don't want to be a wet blanket or whatever, but isn't this illegal?" Devon asked worriedly. "I mean, if all three of you are for it, then I'm for it, but I would rather not lose my job over this."

Sarah pursed her lips. "I can't ask you to participate if you don't want to. And, to be honest, even if you do help, you probably won't do much more than communicate from back here."

Ellie tried to protest, but Sarah wouldn't let her. "The general was right about one thing. You're both civilians. No matter how much you want to help, I am not putting either one of you directly in the line of fire." She noticed the defiant set of Ellie's jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Ellie, listen to me. You can't go out there."

"What if that isn't your decision to make?" Ellie challenged.

Sarah groaned. "We're on the same team here."

"Then let me help!"

Devon put a tentative hand on his fiance's shoulder. "El, I think she might have a point."

Ellie brushed his hand away and silenced him with a look. "Devon, don't tell me you're on her side."

He quickly backed away with a helpless look at Sarah, not willing to risk the possibility of future marital problems on the current issue. Sorry, he mouthed to Sarah.

"What would you even do out there?" Sarah argued. "You have no training, no experience with weapons-"

"Like Chuck is any better! In fact, I handle scalpels and needles all day at the hospital," Ellie pointed out. "And I took a self-defense course in high school. In fact, I'd probably be way better prepared to handle myself in a fight than he would be. No offense, Chuck."

Sarah desperately switched tacks. "You can't help us if you get shot, Ellie."

"Well, what about Chuck, then?" Ellie asked with a violent gesture at her brother. "He's already been shot, but you're letting him go out there?"

Sarah laughed humorlessly. "We've already had that argument several times, believe me. If there was any way I could get him to stay here, I'd do it."

"And what makes you think there's any way to get me to stay here either?" Ellie said pointedly. "I'm not going to let my baby brother go put himself in danger when-"

"But I'm not your baby brother anymore!" Chuck finally shouted. He stood suddenly, pushing his chair back across the room with the force of his movement. He looked at Ellie for a second, trying to find the right words. "Look, El," he eventually said. "I appreciate what you're doing, and I love you, but I've already been doing this for over a year. I'm not some helpless ten-year-old who can't find his way to the bathroom anymore."

Ellie stared at him, her jaw working but no words coming out.

Chuck licked his lips and his fists clenched uncertainly. "I-I don't need you to babysit me anymore." Almost unconsciously, his hand strayed toward the pistol holstered at his hip.

Ellie's eyes followed the movement and registered the dull glint of metal. Her face visibly hardened. "Oh." The noise was small, involuntary. But it said all that was needed to make Chuck instantly feel like he'd simultaneously kicked her puppy and ruined all her dreams.

"El, listen," he began, but his sister shook her head.

"No, you're right," she said. She lifted her chin, and Chuck could see her swallow. "You're all grown up now. Who needs their older sister when they've outgrown them by a few inches?"

"That's not what I meant-"

"That's what you said," Ellie said bitterly. She glanced at Sarah. "Fine. I'll stay here." She took a step forward and looked the blonde dead in the eyes. "But you bring him back here safe, you hear me?" Her voice wavered.

Sarah met her gaze steadily. "You know I will, Ellie."

Ellie didn't look away for another few seconds, until she seemed to come to a conclusion. She nodded, then backed up. "Okay then. You two have fun planning or whatever you're gonna do now. If you need a doctor, well… I guess I'll be in the back somewhere. Doing… whatever there is to do down here." She spun on her heel and brushed past Devon, who followed quickly.

Before he left the room, he stopped to add, "If you need anything…" he trailed off.

Sarah nodded in thanks. He smiled briefly, then hurried after Ellie.

There was a deafening silence in their absence. Sarah slowly relaxed against the table again, trying to let the tension leave her body. "Well," she said, breaking the silence. "That could have gone better."

Chuck didn't respond. He just groaned and let his face fall into his hands, a position he was finding himself in increasingly often.

Sarah inwardly debated her next move for a minute or two before pulling a chair over and sitting in front of him. After a delay, he copied her movements and collapsed into his seat. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. "Okay," she said. "What now?"

Chuck rubbed his eyes and looked up. "I just realized how entirely exhausted I am," he said with a tired grin.

Sarah's smile in response was slow and wide. "Well, that's what happens when you mess up an entire mission, get shot, and knock yourself out on a table."

Chuck raised a finger sluggishly to point at her. "Hey, I didn't mess up the mission, that was Tony's fault."

"Tony?" Sarah asked, confused. Before Chuck could respond, she remembered. "Oh yeah, Hitchens. I'm still not used to calling bad guys by their first names."

Chuck shrugged. "They're still people, no matter how bad their life decisions may be."

Sarah squinted at him. "You can call people by their last name without demoting them from personhood status."

He shrugged again. "Anyway, I guess that's not important right now."

Sarah leaned back. "I guess not." No time for their usual back and forth. Even though that was usually her favorite part of their missions together. She clapped her hands. "Okay. We have to figure out some way to get in there, take out the remaining henchmen, rescue any hostages they still have, and get out before Beckman's reinforcements can crash in."

"And how much time do you think that will take?"

"I don't know. It's not like Beckman just heard about this. She's had a few hours to organize everyone. But NSA headquarters and training centers are mostly in Maryland; assuming she's dredging up all her best from over there, it would still take several hours to get here. Maybe… another hour or two? Optimistically."

"That… is not a lot of time," Chuck realized.

"Nope." Sarah rolled up to the table and pulled her blueprints of the store toward her. "We're gonna have to think of something either incredibly brilliant or absolutely insane to pull this off."

She looked at Chuck, who had moved up next to her. He studied the blueprints, then said with resigned humor, "Well, it's a good thing we specialize in the absolutely insane, isn't it?"

Sarah giggled. Almost immediately, she bit her tongue in mortification and tried to wish the sound back into her mouth, but it was too late. Chuck stared at her, dumbfounded. "Sarah," he said slowly. "Am I hearing things, or did you just giggle?"

Sarah furiously tried to hide her growing blush behind her hair. "No. You're definitely hearing things. I don't giggle."

Chuck moved his face up close to hers and playfully met her gaze with his own steely one. "No, I think you just giggled," he concluded. "I may be tired, but I'm not that tired."

Sarah shoved him away. "Oh, shut up. We're both tired."

"Aha!" Chuck shouted in glee. "You did giggle! I knew it! There is a little girl in there somewhere!"

Sarah punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up," she repeated, but it was a lost cause. Chuck was about to fall out of his chair with laughter, his hands pressing against his stomach as it heaved.

"You… you giggled!" He put a hand on her shoulder to lean on as he tried to catch his breath, but Sarah pushed him off and he fell toward the table instead. He was unperturbed, letting his forehead hit the table with a soft thud. He was still cackling hysterically.

Sarah crossed her arms, annoyed. "I don't see why this is so funny," she insisted, trying to keep any hint of a smile out of her voice.

"Honestly, I don't either," Chuck admitted, his voice muffled. "But I'm so tired, and you giggled!" This sent him into a new wave of hysterics.

Sarah rolled her eyes, putting up a valiant effort to school her face into a cool and unaffected facade. "Calm down, Bartowski. We seriously need to-"

"Bartowski?" Chuck asked incredulously. "Since when do you call me Bartowski?" His face hurt from smiling, and his stomach ached, and it felt like his stitches were about to rip open, but it was a good ache that he hadn't felt in a long time. The tension from earlier was slowly draining from him in waves. He finally sat up and looked at Sarah, trying unsuccessfully to force down more peals of laughter. "Fine, Walker," he responded.

His words hung in the air between them for a few seconds, then he and Sarah both burst into laughter. Sarah got out between gasps, "Okay, fine, I won't call you Bartowski anymore as long as you promise never to call me Walker."

Chuck put a heavy hand on her shoulder. She let it land this time. "I promise," he said with mock sincerity, a smile still splitting his face. They laughed for a few more seconds before finally calming down.

Sarah was the first to break eye contact. "Well, I guess we should start working on this insane plan then, huh?" she said hurriedly, turning back to the table.

Chuck let his hand fall. "Yeah, sure," he said, but he wasn't able to force down the rush of warmth that had rushed through him at the sight of Sarah laughing so freely.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Well, what do you know, I'm still alive. I'm not gonna give excuses or reasons or anything, but if any of you are still reading this, a clap and a half to you. Congratulations, you are officially a better person than me. :)

This is about ten pages, I think, that I've been slowly plugging away at when I have the time, and I think it's still in character and everything. I don't intend for this to be the final chapter, so this story should be finished at some point (although who knows, I might finish it ten years from now, I dunno). Anyway.

Thanks for reading!