Poa did some serious editing on this chapter, and I think it's better for her work. Thank, P!

CHUCK VERSUS THE BUY MORE BOMBER

Chapter 26

The Path to the Dark Side

"You did what?"

Chuck winced. Sarah's reaction was not exactly a surprise. Sitting there in the back of Moses Finkelstein (etc.)'s limo, it had all seemed so clear, so logical. Now, sitting here on the bed in Sarah's hotel after bringing her home from the hospital while she looked at him like he had just grown horns and a tail, he was having trouble remembering the reasoned, logical argument he had so carefully prepared. In fact, he was having trouble forming any coherent thoughts at all.

"I did it for us," he managed to squeak.

Sarah jumped up off of the bed and started pacing the room. "For us? You did it for us? Don't you think that maybe you might have discussed it with me before you made such a stupid decision for us?"

Chuck winced again. He had seen Sarah angry before. He remembered vividly her anger when he had failed to trust her during the whole Doctor Zarnow incident. She was usually cold and threatening when she was angry. But now, she was practically yelling. In fact, she was sounding an awful lot like Ellie when she was yelling at Devon. Or Anna when she was yelling at Morgan. She was sounding, Chuck realized, more like a pissed girlfriend than an angry secret agent. A small smile slowly spread across his face,

"What are you smiling at?"

The biting question snapped Chuck out of his reverie and he blinked up at her. She had one hand on her hip while the other rested in a sling. His smile grew wider. "I love you," he replied.

Sarah took a step back, as if his words had hit her like a physical force. For a moment, she simply stared at him, mouth agape. Then, realizing what she must look like, she clamped her mouth shut. "What?" she gasped.

Chuck looked down at the floor. "I know I should have told you before. The 'I love you' thing, that is. You see, I guess I've known for awhile now, but I just…"

"Chuck!"

Chuck looked up. Sarah walked over and sat down beside him on the bed. "What happened to the Chuck I used to know?" she asked.

Chuck frowned, confused.

"The Chuck who was scared of his own shadow. The Chuck who spends twenty minutes deciding which restaurant to go to. The Chuck who…" Her voice trailed off. 'The Chuck who worked at the Buy More for five years because he couldn't step up and take responsibility for his life,' she thought. But she couldn't bring herself to wound him with that -- the deadliest dart of all.

Chuck's smile grew wan. "I guess it's like I keep telling Morgan. You have to grow up sometime."

With great effort, Sarah tore herself away from his soulful gaze. She jumped back to her feet. She couldn't let him distract her like this. Didn't he realize how serious this was? "Chuck," she said, pacing again. "Don't you realize how serious this is?"

She stopped and looked at him. He looked like a scolded puppy. "Have you told Beckman? Have you told Casey?"

Chuck just shook his head.

"Well, at least there's that." She rubbed her forehead with her hand. "I need to think," she said. She looked at Chuck again. A small grin was creeping back onto his face as he looked at her. She couldn't think while he was looking at her like that.

"I need to go for a walk," she snapped.

"Okay," Chuck said, standing.

"You stay here," she said, jabbing a finger at him. "I need… I need a minute to sort this out." What she really needed, she knew, was nice, long workout with the heavy bag and then maybe a nice long massage from those strong fingers… "Aaahhh!" she cried. She grabbed her purse and fled the room.

Chuck stood for a long moment, staring at the closed door. "That went well," he muttered.

***

Sarah wandered down the street, stumbling along wherever her feet took her. How had her life gotten so complicated? No, that was one question that was easy to answer. It required only a single word to sum it up: Chuck. The real question was how she had allowed her life to become so complicated.

A smile slowly came to her lips. He loves me. He said it. Out loud. While he knew that I was awake. He really means it.

She shook her head. No. She couldn't go there. She was a trained agent. The CIA had given her meaning, purpose. It defined who she was.

But did it? Was that all she was, an agent? Wasn't she a woman first? A woman who dreamed of a home and family and house in the suburbs? A woman who was loved by…

"Aaaaahhhh," she cried again. Why did her thoughts keep going back to him? Why couldn't she get that warm smile, those deep brown eyes, those adorable curls out of her mind?

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She tried to focus on the dull ache in her shoulder. Use that. Use the pain to remember what was real. Danger. The Intersect. The CIA. It was her job to protect him and she had been failing miserably. Instead, he had been the one saving her, risking his own life to do it. Putting himself in danger to save the woman he loved…

She blew out a breath. Love. Did she even know what that was? She loved her father, after a fashion. At one time, she had thought she had loved Bryce. But now she knew that was a pale imitation. Bryce could never make her feel the way Chuck could. Could never make her as frustrated as Chuck could.

The job. The job. Think about the job. The danger. What in the hell am I going to tell Casey? Tell Beckman? How am I going to tell them that Chuck is going to work for a ex-spy megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur? Hell, Moses Finkelstein (etc.) is more Bond villain than mentor. Beckman is going to climb through the monitor and strangle someone. She'll assign that bitch Forrest to Team Bartowski permanently and I'll be working the CIA duty station in lower Patagonia.

Still, at least someone is recognizing Chuck and his potential. Someone other than Ellie, that is. Ellie always knew. Funny that it took Moses Finkelstein (etc.) to make the rest of us all realize just what an asset Chuck is.

Asset. He's an asset. I'm a handler. God. Beckman is going to order Forrest to conduct a 49B. I really am going to be reassigned permanently.

Unless Chuck really does take the position with Moses Finkelstein (etc.). Maybe…

She heard a shoe scuff the pavement. She looked up and glanced around, suddenly realizing that she had wandered into one of the nearly empty industrial districts quite a ways from her hotel – windowless warehouses with widely spaced streetlights. She silently cursed her inattention. Between Chuck's twin bombshells and the pain meds, she was acting more like addled teenager than trained agent.

A homeless man in a shabby coat and filthy, ripped jeans was only a few feet away from her. He was staggering, obviously drunk. It was the sound of his shoe dragging against the pavement that had snapped her out of her reverie.

Sarah moved to her left to avoid him. He swayed and lurched toward her. She tried to move farther left to avoid him, but bumped up against the wall.

Suddenly, the drunk straightened and lunged for her. She tried to jump back. He was too quick. He grabbed her injured arm, sending a searing pain shooting through her shoulder. The pain was so intense she barely registered the prick to the side of her neck.

Then everything went black.