A/N: First off, apologies for the long wait. There's been a lot of real life stuff going on what with getting A level results, sorting out University places, sorting out accommodation. It's been hectic to say the least. Even with that, I also haven't had any motivation to write much, hence the shortness of this chapter. I'm not making any promises on when the next chapter will be out as I'm still struggling for motivation, but with any luck it'll be before next week. Thanks to Zerectica for the beta. Read her stuff, seriously. It's like über-mega-fantabulously-super-insert superlative here-awesome. Especially Lost in the Darkness, probably the best dark fluff piece I've ever read. Bug her for the sequel too, maybe we'll get it faster :D. Having read the first 20,000 or so words due to a desperate attempt to fix it when her computer decided to go all Fulcrum on her, it may be even better than Lost in the Darkness v1.0.

Edited: Message from Z; bug her about the Deaf Sarah fic that she's writing. Bug her about both if you have to, just make sure we get updates from her

Again, sorry for the wait, here it is:

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Now that Chuck had completed what was, in his opinion, the most challenging part of his training, he had a burning question to ask Sarah.

"Does the incentive offer still stand?" he asked, giving Sarah a dose of the Bartowski Eyebrow Dance for good measure.

"Depends on how well you do," said Sarah, with a teasing lilt to her voice, but she turned more serious when she saw Chuck's worried expression. "Hey, you'll do fine. Just remember that the hard part is over. You can do this; you've jumped off a building and stared down a bunch of mercenaries all in two days. This'll be easy. You were born to be a spy, Chuck, even if you didn't realise it."

And just like that, Chuck's worries seemed to disappear. Sarah always seemed to know what to say to reassure him. She had told him repeatedly that he wasn't totally out of his depth in the world of espionage, although Chuck still wasn't totally convinced on that one, but no matter what, she gave him the confidence to keep trying anyway.

Of course, his various feats of 'heroism' were made much easier when it was Sarah he was trying to save. He'd have to get through this training if only for that reason; he didn't want to put Sarah at unnecessary risk because he wasn't good enough to fend for himself outside of the car. He would never be able to forgive himself if he caused Sarah or the baby to come to harm.

"And you think you're no good with words..." began Chuck teasingly.

"I could only do that with you," insisted Sarah. "Nobody else has ever made me want to open myself up so much emotionally. Not even Bryce. Not even my Dad, only you. Even if I were blind or deaf I'd have faith in you to protect me emotionally. Let me deal with the physical stuff, you can deal with the emotions. We're two sides of the same coin. I'm always staying with you, if you'll have me, that is."

"Why would you think that I wouldn't?" asked Chuck, slightly confused. "I can't live without you."

He...can't...live...without me? Thought Sarah in shock. "Do you really mean that?" she asked in a choked voice.

"Of course I do," said Chuck defiantly. "You are the only thing I have in my life at the moment that gives me something to fight for. And without that, what's the point?"

"Oh, Chuck," she whispered, and she didn't even try to stop herself as she launched her body at Chuck's. Chuck was surprised by this latest development, but he couldn't say that it was a particularly bad development. The two of them ended up backing up quickly through the room as Chuck lost his balance and Sarah kept pushing herself into him, until the back of Chuck's legs connected with the bed and they toppled over; still grappling with one another.

As they hit the bed, Chuck had all of the breath knocked out of his body by the goddess that ended up lying atop him. This, unfortunately for both parties, meant that he had to break the prolonged kiss. As he came up, gasping for air, it left him once again as Sarah latched onto his neck and began kissing him madly, which drove anything remotely approaching coherent thought rapidly from Chuck's mind.

He managed to scrape together enough thought to say something when Sarah stopped her attention to his neck to essentially tear his shirt off him. Chuck looked mournfully at the buttons that were strewn across the bedroom, but his attention was rapidly drawn back to Sarah as she shed her own shirt (rather more carefully, it has to be said) and a very superficial advantage of pregnancy was literally right in front of his ever widening eyes.

"Guh..." was the only sound he could force his mouth to make. He gulped loudly and tried again. "God, you're so beautiful. And that doesn't even come close to describing you. You're...you're...omniprettiful!"

"Omniprettiful?" said Sarah in amusement. "And just what does that mean?"

"I'll never tell!" said Chuck with confidence that he was quite sure he wasn't feeling when he saw the predatory glint in Sarah's eyes. She leaned over him as Chuck lay back on the bed, and Chuck fought to keep his eyes pointed towards the ceiling.

Come on, Bartowski. Be respectful at least, future wife or not she's not an object, chimed in Chuck's Casey conscience. Sarah noticed Chuck's efforts to maintain some level of decorum, which was admirable considering their various stages of undress. Sarah then made his task even more difficult by reaching behind her back and releasing the clasp of her bra. As the material fell away, Chuck's eyes snapped downwards. Sarah noticed that with amusement, and decided to press home her significant advantage.

"Are you sure? Because I have ways of making you talk, Mr. Bartowski."

"I'll...never...talk," choked out Chuck with difficulty, as Sarah chose that exact moment to grind her hips against his.

"Really? Well I guess there's no point in me continuing this then," said Sarah teasingly. She then made Chuck's day get off to an incredibly frustrating start as she climbed off him and waltzed off to the shower, not bothering to put her shirt back on.

"Aww, come on!" Chuck shouted after her. "That's just cruel," he muttered to himself.

He stood up and tried the door to the bathroom. He figured that once he was through the door he would have an opportunity to finish what Sarah had somewhat forcibly started. Sarah had locked it however. Hmm, time for Plan B then, thought Chuck. Chuck hadn't really expected Plan A to be a rousing success; it was like expecting a Fulcrum agent to crack under interrogation by using the comfy chair.

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, thought Chuck with a small chuckle. He wondered if Sarah's ignorance of popular culture extended to the gods of comedy that were Monty Python. He'd have to test that out at some point, possibly by organising a philosopher's football match and seeing if it garnered any reaction. It was at times like these Chuck often cursed his inability to focus on the task in hand.

He turned his attention back to trying to get through the door to Paradise. Plan B was quite clearly begging for mercy from Sarah, or possibly bargaining with the temptress of his dreams. Of course, the puppy eyes weren't going to work through the door, so he would have to try another method.

"Sarah, please let me in?" he tried as an opening shot.

"Nuh-uh," was the response, slightly muffled by the door. Chuck then heard the shower start running, which led to some very unhelpful thoughts (at this particular time) about Sarah's likely state of undress.

"Why not?" he whined.

Sarah didn't really have a good answer for that one. She really didn't know why she had broken off the happenings in the bedroom. Okay, she wanted to tease Chuck, but now her stubbornness was costing her valuable shower time with her husband-to-be. That just wouldn't do. Still, she couldn't let him think he'd won; it would damage the valuable training every woman puts a man through at some stage in the relationship. Sarah had heard it compared to training a dog when she had spent time with Ellie's (married) doctor friends; it's all well and good trying to train them, but as soon as you relent even a little bit, they'll jump through the gap and destroy all of your hard work.

Not gonna happen, thought Sarah defensively. I happen to like a Chuck that I've trained to put the toilet seat down.

"What are you going to do to make it worth my while?" she called through the door.

Chuck racked his brains for something, anything, that might make Sarah open the door to what was now being considered as the Promised Land for Chuck. Then it hit him; he didn't need anything. Sarah just had to think he had something that she would open the door for. In her current state, only one thing would achieve that.

"Well...I do have a tub of chocolate ice-cream out here, and I was thinking...that...we..." he trailed off as Sarah's majestic form emerged from the bathroom with all the ferocity of a Scotsman attacking his first (of many) pints. Her ice-cream induced ferocity faded as it became clear that Chuck was not, in fact, in possession of that dairy-based miracle food she so craved. One thing she did notice was the effect her lack of clothing was having on Chuck's anatomy.

"I guess somebody's happy to see me at least," she teased. Chuck blushed furiously but Sarah just laughed and took his hand, pulling him into the bathroom, which was by now more resembling a sauna. "Come on, Chuck. We have hand to hand combat training tomorrow. I think you could use some close tuition on the wrestling side of it."

Sarah lead Chuck into the bathroom, and the steam curling around her beautiful form made her look ethereal, and if Chuck didn't already view her as a goddess, Sarah was trying her damndest to change that impression. She needn't have bothered; she could render Chuck speechless with the right look, a casual flick of the hair or even a simple kiss. Anything more could probably be considered torture by most societies.

It was all Chuck could do to stop himself from launching himself at her; he still had the presence of mind to know that jumping someone in the bathroom is probably one of the largest causes of concussion. Of course, not even a nuclear explosion would have stopped the release of passion that took place as they entered the shower. Chuck quickly latched onto the spot he had discovered on Sarah's neck that made her shout out, and suddenly Sarah was glad for the thick walls that were present in this old Edwardian style Town-house.

They didn't emerge from that room for several hours. Apparently Chuck was becoming very proficient at wrestling his fiancé.

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A/N: No review challenge this time, mostly because of the time it took me to write this and how short it is. Still, if you want to leave a review, there's a little green button just below this that really wants to be pushed. Seriously, it was telling me all about it earlier.