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Corned Beef and Swiss

x-x-x-x-x

This was a funny business. Every day was basically the same, so predictable. From 11:00 to 3:00, the place was crazy packed, so packed you didn't have the space to breathe. But between the lunch and dinner rushes, it got downright sleepy. That rule probably applied to most restaurants, but especially take-out delis.

As it was not quite the end of the lunch rush, Lou saw her sitting at one of the few tables in the place that no one ever used anyway well before she had a chance to do anything about it. She was just sitting there, calmly drinking her cup of coffee. Lou knew very well who she was. No woman was ever introduced to their new boyfriend's recent ex without taking full measure, especially when the ex was as stunning as Sarah Walker.

At the table, Sarah was far too deep in thought to pay much attention to anything going on around her, even the deli owner throwing curious glances her way. That in itself was an amazing statement. Spies were trained to always be fully aware of their surroundings, to keep an eye open, be on the lookout for possible threats. But that was out the window now. Agent Walker was nowhere to be found.

It was the damndest thing. Everyone felt such sympathy for her for losing her memories. She understood that, especially since there were lots of things she wished she remembered. But they really didn't involve Chuck. The things she wished she could recall at the snap of her fingers had more to do with Ellie, Morgan, Casey, and her Mom, rather than Chuck. Not that those people were more important than he was, but Chuck was so great at helping her live the special memories with him again. She was able to snuggle with him as he told her about their wedding, their engagement, their first dance, their first kiss. It was almost better, her getting to experience it for the first time all over again. Plus, Morgan's talk drilled into her head that she was better off not remembering a lot of what had happened in their relationship. It was painful, and they had both made serious mistakes. And, yes, mistakes were a big part of growth, but they also explained why Chuck was so uneasy all the time. There were so many times when they nearly didn't make it, when their near-fatal flaws almost did them in. And the walls she had up for so long didn't help his insecurity at all.

But there was one promise she felt entirely confident in making – things were going to be different this time. And maybe that was the true blessing of all the horrible events of the past few weeks.

Still, she wasn't quite sure why she was here. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She sure as hell didn't even know what she was going to say. Maybe it would be better to just leave. This was a crazy idea anyway. But she took a deep breath, glanced at the woman behind the counter, and knew that it was important. It was symbolic, something she had to do for him, something that the old Sarah Walker never would have done. She still wasn't sure what a wife was supposed to do, how she was supposed to act, but her instincts told her that if she truly wanted to be Chuck's wife in the way that he needed and not just a partner who happened to be in love with him, this was something she needed to do. They also told her that 'normal' and 'supposed to' weren't phrases they set much store by. They liked to find their own roads, and that was exactly what they were going to do.

"Can I help you with something?"

Sarah looked up to find Lou standing right beside her table. She didn't look angry, like she'd expected. Curious, though not especially friendly. Sarah decided it was best to say what she came here to say, and they could go their separate ways.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

"Of course," Lou nodded. "Who could ever forget Sarah Walker?"

It didn't sound much like a compliment, but Sarah held out a hand. "Would you like to sit down?" Off of Lou's uncertain look, she added, "Just for a minute? Then I'll be out of your hair forever, I promise."

The brunette walked away, and Sarah let out a deep sigh, shoulders sagging, as she watched her disappear behind the counter. She perked up again as the deli owner reappeared a moment later, a carafe of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other.

As Lou cautiously sat down, she explained with a small smile, "Figured this might get complicated, and coffee always makes everything easier, right?"

Sarah chuckled as Lou poured coffee for the two of them. "Yeah. Of course. And it's actually Sarah Bartowski now. We've been married for almost a year."

Lou's smile grew, just a bit. "That's great. Congratulations. Your business card still says 'Sarah Walker,' though. Is there something going on there? Is that what you want to talk to me about?"

"No, no," Sarah assured her with a shake of her head, taking a swig of coffee. It was hot, refreshing. Things with Chuck may not be going exactly to plan, but it was working. "Things are good. Chuck and I are . . . taking care of each other."

Lou regarded her silently for a few seconds. Then, "So, is that what you came here for? To tell me how wonderful your life is now?"

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "No. No, no, of course not. Look, I know this must sound terribly strange to you, but Chuck and I were talking about you the other night, and he feels horrible about what happened. It occurs to me that you weren't treated very well but that no one ever really explained anything to you. I wanted you to know that Chuck wasn't the bad guy. If anyone was, it was me. And I wanted to apologize."

Lou took a deep breath. Thoughtfully, she asked, "He still feels bad? That was years ago."

"Yeah, well . . ." Sarah shrugged. "It's Chuck."

It needed no further explanation, because things like that bothered him, and that was a big part of the reason she fell in love with him both times. Because he cared about people outside of himself, because he took huge steps to put those people first in his life.

"He really liked you, you know," Sarah told her companion. "It seems he's attracted to really fiery women, which may not be a good thing, because now he's afraid you might run him over in the parking lot."

Lou's smile grew. "The thought has crossed my mind a time or two," she admitted with a chuckle, "but that was a long time ago. Tell Chuck he doesn't have anything to worry about."

"Thanks. I will." They sipped their coffee in silence for another moment before Sarah added, "Chuck said he heard you got engaged a few months ago. That's fantastic. Congratulations."

"Yeah, thanks." Lou's smile faded. "But that, uh, that fizzled out."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't know," Lou assured her with a wave of her hand. She laughed lightly and added, "Actually, I'm kind of just letting everyone think I'm still engaged."

"Why's that?" Sarah asked uncertainly.

Lou shrugged. "To keep certain men off my back. I'm sure you can relate."

"I can," replied Sarah with a nod. Gently, she said, "But that'll keep away the good guys, too. And trust me, Lou, it may not seem like it, but they're out there."

"Well, they should hurry up and get a move on," Lou chuckled. "A girl can't wait forever, you know."

Sarah laughed softly, palm cupped around her coffee mug. This was nice, she decided. Chatting, having coffee with a girlfriend. It made her long even more for a return to the friendship she shared with Ellie. And in the space of a second, she decided that, in addition to fixing things with Chuck, repairing her relationship with his sister would have to be a priority as well.

"Keep making sandwiches like you do and I don't think you'll have to," Sarah smiled. A bit more hesitantly, she ventured, "Speaking of, if I wanted to take Chuck a sandwich . . ."

"I won't spit on it, no," Lou laughed.

Sarah laughed, too. "Thanks."

"Corned Beef and Swiss, extra horseradish, extra pickles on the side. That still right? I'll whip one right up."

Sarah's smile weakened. "You remember his favorite sandwich after more than four years?"

This would have been easier if Lou's feelings for Chuck hadn't been as strong, or if she could've gotten over him quickly. But some things – the most important things – weren't meant to be easy.

"Yeah, well . . ." Lou said with a sigh. "I think it was more the idea of Chuck that really turned my head, you know? He was so much different than any guy I'd ever paid attention to before, but in the end . . . I don't know. I can't shake the feeling that it wouldn't have ended up that well. Chuck doesn't exactly strike me as the kind of guy who settles for normal."

Sarah's chuckle held little mirth. "I think you'd be surprised at how attracted to the notion he is."

Lou took a sip of coffee and then smiled. "Well, then you'll be the one to help him find it."

Sarah blushed, knowing exactly how lucky she was to have married a guy who gave up his shot at normalcy for a life with her, all because he loved her.

"Don't worry," she said. "Someday soon, you'll find someone to be normal with, too."

"I appreciate that," Lou chuckled. "But for now, just tell Chuck he doesn't have to be afraid to come in and get a sandwich. I won't bite him, or poison him. I'm long past that phase."

"Got it," Sarah replied with a nod. "Thanks. That'll make him happy. But don't be surprised if he and Morgan add your deli to their weekly lunch rotation."

"Oh, no. Morgan?"

Laughing, Sarah hastily explained, "He's got a steady girlfriend now. I think you're safe."

"Thank goodness."

x-x-x-x-x

The park was full of shadows, but Eric should be used to that by now, living in darkness. That's what spies do, isn't it? Skirt through the gloom, make deals with the devil, never seeing the light. Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach, because this was how he would die, too. Maybe not literally. Maybe he would live to a ripe old age and die in his bed, no achievements to his name except some secrets scribbled in files tucked away in cabinets in an office in D.C.

Then a twist of jealousy gripped him as he thought of Sarah Walker and the few others who had managed to escape throughout the years. The ones who had enough of a head on their shoulders to question everything from the beginning, to not take the Agency at their word, to decide their fates for themselves. The ones who wouldn't end up with any regrets.

Spotting a bench across the way, he forced those thoughts out of his mind. He crossed the damp grass, took a heavy seat, and pulled a flask out of his jacket pocket to take a long swing. His contact was nowhere in sight. He sighed and took another drag of whiskey.

The blare of a phone ringing startled him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see a payphone at the corner of the walkway. He must have been too distracted to notice it earlier, and then he chastised himself, because he was getting sloppy. He couldn't afford to get sloppy, not now, not when the Agency was beginning to see him as used goods.

The ringing didn't stop, so he stood on shaky legs and went to answer it. The receiver was sticky in his hand, but he was too tired to wipe it off.

"Hullo?" he said.

His voice sounded slurred even to his own ears.

"Is this the flower shop on Fourth?" the voice, gruff and low, asked.

Even through his fuzzy mind, he was able to recognize the code phrase and stammer out the response. "No, that shop closed a decade ago. This is the park."

"Excellent. Your mark is Bartowski."

"Bar-" he coughed. "You mean Walker?"

Maybe he had drunk too much.

"No," the man growled. "You know the one. Find him. Bring him in. Use the girl if you have to."

Frowning, he leaned his forehead against the phone box. He didn't relish the idea of facing Walker again, not after she'd handed him his ass so easily. This time would have to be different. And the honest truth was he needed this. This man could put him back on top again, not only with the agency, but to himself as a man. He didn't care about how shady this whole transaction was. He was a spy, after all. He lived in the shade, thrived in it. It was time to own that.

x-x-x-x-x

There were still lots of details that Sarah didn't know about Chuck, but one thing she had definitely learned was the look that came over his face when he was really happy. One thing she was a little surprised about, though, was that it applied to more than just the bedroom. Because that look was there now, and all he was doing was eating a sandwich.

"Mmmm . . ." Chuck murmured as he took another huge bite. "This is so good." He held out the sandwich to her and, through another mouthful, said, "You have to try it."

Even though she was glad her husband was enjoying herself, her nose wrinkled. "Um, no, thanks." Swiss and horseradish weren't exactly her thing, but she loved that he loved it. And she was amazed at how much progress they'd made so far. Lou hadn't even let her pay for it. She chuckled softly at his face. "I think I'll just stick to my salad."

"Mmm . . ." Chuck said again with a contented sigh. Mouth still full, he explained, "I've missed this so much." Thankfully, he swallowed before asking, "So, tell me again how you happened to wander into Lou's deli. And how did you know the details of my favorite sandwich of hers?"

"I already told you," she shrugged. "I didn't 'happen to wander in.' I was over on that side of town, and I remembered you saying that you missed eating there, so I went in and got you a sandwich." She sent a playful smirk his way. "Can't a girl do something nice for the guy who keeps her feet warm at night?"

"I suppose you must've run into Lou," he ventured hesitantly.

"She came up to me," she clarified. "She recognized me, and we talked for a bit. I told her . . . we both felt bad about the way we'd handled the situation a couple years ago."

Chuck cleared his throat and then asked, "And what'd she say?"

"She's okay, Chuck. She thought it was sweet that you still felt bad, she's not angry any more, and she even offered to make you this sandwich. She remembered how you liked them."

"Well, thank you. That was nice of you," Chuck said as he pushed away from the table. He narrowed his eyes. "But . . . there's more to this story, isn't there?"

The question hung between them for a moment. He sighed, regretting that he was pushing her.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, waving his hands. "You know what? Never mind. It's your business." He shot her a smile in the hopes that she'd look past the request. He was sure she'd tell him all about it when she was ready.

So he was surprised when she stood, took him by the hand, and said, "Come to the sofa." She led him to the couch and pushed him down gently, then sat across from him on the coffee table. "There is more to the story," she said softly. "So let's talk for a minute, okay?"

"W-what do we need to talk about?"

"Us. I have to tell you something important."

It took Sarah only a second to recognize the devastated look on his face, and it hit her. He was expecting bad news; like he expected her to tell him that it was over, that she was leaving. She clenched her jaw and fought down her initial reaction to be pissed. After spending the past few days around him, she understood that was not always the best way to get through to him.

So she took his hands in hers, thumbs running over his knuckles, and began firmly, "This is exactly what we need to talk about. What have we done today?"

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, first thing this morning, we made love until we could barely move, and then we cuddled in bed all morning and made plans for our future, including talking about starting a family. Then what?"

"Uh, then we flew to San Francisco for lunch."

"Right. Then?"

He reached up to scratch the back of his neck thoughtfully. "We, uh, had dinner. Well, you brought me one of my favorite sandwiches. And you told me that Lou's doing all right."

"So, a good day?"

"A great day. One of the best days of my life."

"Mine too," Sarah smiled. "Then on why on earth, after we spent such a fantastic day together, would you assume the worst just because I said I had something to tell you?" Her knee brushed against his. "I'm not going anywhere, Chuck, but I need to know why you think it's even a possibility at this point, why you're so inclined to immediately think the worst of me, always."

"I'm sorry," he breathed, hanging his head. "You're right."

She gave his hands a squeeze. "I know, but sorry isn't going to work this time. If every time one of us brings up a problem, the other just apologizes, we're just going to get stuck in an endless loop."

"Okay, so what do you suggest?"

She sighed. This was the man who knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. If only he'd stop second guessing himself and start having more confidence in the two of them as a couple. He should know, logically, that she would never do any of those things he feared. She wouldn't leave him flat, she wouldn't take off, she wouldn't abandon him. Yet it was as if, when it came to her, he turned off his brain.

"We need to fix this. And I want you to tell me the real reason so we can fix it. Together."

After a hesitation, he finally said, "It's . . . complicated."

"Luckily, I have the next sixty or so years free. Take your time. Do you want some paper and a pen to draw some visual aids?" She leaned in closer to warn, "And don't you dare say I'm out of your league. If the word 'deserves' comes out of your mouth at any point in this explanation, I won't be held accountable for my actions."

"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled. "And you're right. This is pretty ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Very."

Half of her desperately wanted to slap some sense into him, the other half just as desperately to wrap her arms around him, hold him tight, and tell him it was going to be okay. Unfortunately, neither would work this time. It was clear. The future father of her children didn't trust her, never really had. It was hurting him, and there was no good reason for it. That was something they had to fix, especially if they had to work at it. Because she was not going to spend the rest of her life walking around on eggshells worrying that the next thing she said or did would hurt him even worse.

Chuck tugged on her hands. "I trust you, Sarah. I do."

"In some ways, yes. But it's not to the extent that a husband needs to trust his wife." She knew she was being harsh, but this was no idle accusation. It was a demonstrable fact; easily seen once you knew where to look. She was by no means blaming him either. He had good, understandable reasons to not trust her. She only needed him to recognize that he had to admit it before they could fix it. "Do you want to hear my theory?"

"Sure," he nodded, though his expression was still slightly wary.

Trying to keep the conversation as light as possible, she said, "I don't have any visual aids, so bear with me?"

Chuckling softly, he nodded.

She gave his hands another hearty squeeze before taking a deep breath. "I have a suspicion your mom and dad have a lot to do with this, but for now, let's just talk about us, all right?" Off his nod, she continued, "The Intersect flipped your life around, and not really for the better, considering it came with a life of lies and a cover girlfriend, one you were forced to spend every waking moment with, one all your friends kept saying you had no shot with."

She paused, at a momentary loss for how to go on. There was so much she had to tell him, but she wasn't accustomed to talking about herself. Then she realized she'd already set up the conversation talking about 'her,' as in her old self, someone she no longer was. Maybe it would be easier to continue in that vein.

"And maybe," she told him, "maybe they were right. Because, at first, you were just an assignment to her, just part of her job. And then, all of a sudden, before she knew what was happening, you weren't. But the thing is, Chuck, she didn't know what to do about it. She was stuck with no way out. No matter how many times she told you it could never work, it never felt true to you… because it wasn't. There were times when you believed her, but other times when she couldn't hide the way she felt. She'd panic, push you away, and break your heart all over again. And the cycle would continue."

"Even though you were the only person she wanted to see every morning when she woke up, being around you made her miserable. And she made you pretty miserable, too. You convinced yourself you weren't her type, so you dumped her and tried dating other people."

"Sarah –"

"No," she interrupted. "Just let me get this out, okay?" When he nodded, she continued, "She was always hanging around these smooth, strong, confident alpha-male types, and you were sure you didn't measure up. So after years of misery and endlessly wondering whether they could happen or not, you gave up. You pushed her toward someone you thought was her type, Daniel Shaw."

His head shot up. "That's not fa –"

She cut him off with a look. It wasn't his best decision ever, but they would talk more about that later.

"So," she sighed, "by now, you knew this woman inside and out. You were the only person in the world who knew what made her tick. And what makes you so amazing, Chuck, is that instead of using that knowledge to your advantage, you loved her from afar. All you wanted was for her to be happy."

Scooting into him, she dipped her head close to his. "But she couldn't be happy without you, and eventually you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to realize that. And you, thankfully, finally did what you are so, so good at."

Finally, that drew a smile from him. "What's that?" he breathed, his breath tickling her cheek.

"You fought for me."

In fact, he tried to rescue her. He was crazy like that, but also considerate and caring and really pretty amazing. She'd never thought of herself as someone who needed rescuing, but then Chuck had come along, and she'd found that he was rescuing her not only physically but emotionally as well.

"And it was incredible for a while," she smiled. "But you know what happened after we got together?"

"What?"

"We let all our doubts creep right back in. I couldn't say I loved you. You wouldn't talk to me about your problems. We knew why we were having problems, but we didn't do anything to fix them, and you kept taking them as signs we were headed for the end."

Surely, logically, he had known why she couldn't utter those words as quickly as he had, why she felt the need to keep her clothes packed up in her suitcase for the first six months they were together.

"And I admit I made tons of mistakes," she told him. "Not unpacking, the prenup, never wanting to ever talk about us. But I trusted you to know why. And I'm disappointed that, even when you didn't, you didn't just ask me."

Maybe the problem was that she'd come to expect him to be a little too perfect, able to see right through her and see all her doubts and insecurities and make them all better.

"At the very least," she sighed, "you should have known it was never about you. Instead of letting your doubt take over, you should have realized that I was crazy about you, and that's all that mattered. And things did get better. We worked at it, and we grew, and I settled down." She reached up to thread her fingers into his hair. The touch felt familiar, reassuring, as if she belonged here and was merely coming home after a long absence. "And I liked my life with you. I opened up, starting talking about wanting a family. For the first time since we'd met, I felt happiness that was untouched by any doubts or fears. And you were finally convinced that I was all-in. And even though it was hard, that was okay. Marriage is supposed to be hard."

A flash of memory skirted across her brain. She stopped, closed her eyes, reached for it, and it came in a rush.

We knew this wasn't gonna be easy, she was saying, and we didn't get married because we thought life was easy. We got married so that we could be there for each other when things got tough, so that we could work through things together, rich or poor.

It lightened her. The memories coming back to her, few and far between, seemed to be of their worst moments. But this one proved she was a wife who supported her husband in good times and in bad. And she meant to continue to do that. But it was a two-way street. She needed his support as well.

"And then our world came crashing down, didn't it?" she asked softly.

Chuck choked back the lump in his throat. "I thought . . ."

"I know what you thought," she told him gently.

And she did. She knew it exactly. His wife showed up, not remembering a second of their life together and trying to kill him. In his eyes, his marriage had disintegrated. He thought he'd lost her.

Then, after only a few days of living together again, she'd fallen head over heels once more. He shouldn't have been surprised, considering that was his strategy in asking her to stay with him. He had known her heart would be defenseless once she spent even an hour with him.

Maybe there was no science to explain it, but it was the same reason it'd happened the first time – they were perfect for one another. They filled each other's crevices and lit up each other's bright spots and brought out the best in each other. They made each other better, made each other want to try.

She shifted her hand to his neck, drew him close, and whispered, "But you won me back, Chuck. You always do. You always will. You'll always fight for me."

The problem was that he was acting like they were stuck in a loop, like this would happen all over again. She would get him to trust her then tear out his heart. She'd go running to one of those alpha males and leave him devastated and alone. She'd leave him like everyone he'd ever loved had left him – his mother, his father, his wife, even his sister now, in a way. It was a horrible thing to think, to dwell on.

She pulled back to look at him fully and make sure she commanded his attention. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. I am not going to leave you, Chuck. Ever." On a chance, she began, "We got married so that we could be there for each other when things got tough . . ."

His eyes narrowed, then widened as realization spread over his face. "So that we could work through things together. Sarah, you remember that?"

She nodded, and he scooped her up in a tight hug. "But I need you to help me through this," she whispered against his neck. "I need you to trust me, Chuck, to be honest with me. I know your motives were good, but it doesn't help us when you keep things from me, always waiting for the next bad thing to happen, and trying to fix it on your own. We need to help each other." She pulled away again to look in his eyes. Running her thumb along his cheekbone, she said, "Let me be your wife, Chuck. Let me fight for you just as hard as you fight for me."

Not for the first time, she wondered if maybe losing her memories wasn't all bad, because at least it allowed her to see him without three years of misery clouding her sight, gave her a fresh perspective.

Chuck didn't answer, but tears were quickly pooled in his eyes. He swallowed thickly, pulled her into another warm embrace, and didn't let go for a long, long time. Sarah knew she'd made her point, that trying to drive it home any further wouldn't help, so she just snuggled comfortably into him, climbing onto the couch beside him, and allowed him the space to process what all this meant for him, for them. There was no rush, because she wasn't going anywhere. She hadn't been kidding when she said she had the next sixty years free.

And this, being here beside him, in his arms, it felt wonderful. If she had her way, she'd stay snuggled into him for every single second of those sixty years. So she took it as a good sign that he was holding her so tightly, and she squeezed him right back.

Finally Sarah could feel the soft sobs he was trying so desperately to hide noticeably subside. "Let me ask you a question," she said softly, making no attempt to break their embrace. "Since we've been together there are some things that I've done to make you feel I wasn't all in. I didn't unpack for a long time. That clearly bothered you. What made me finally unpack?"

Chuck didn't look up, or even release his grip. "When you found out it bothered me," he started haltingly, "you unpacked that very day."

"And the not wanting to talk about commitment," she continued. "I told you that I needed to go slow. Did we go slow?"

Chuck paused for a moment to consider the question. "I guess not," he finally replied. "We were engaged six weeks later. You knew that I was worried about it. So you're the one who came to me and told me that you wanted to marry me."

Sarah's smile noticeably broadened. Well, Chuck didn't notice it. His head was still buried. "Tell me something," she said. "Do we currently have a prenuptial agreement in place?"

"No," Chuck admitted. "When you found out it bothered me, you made a big romantic show out of tearing it up."

So now Sarah couldn't keep the smile from her voice. "Chuck," she said. "There are all these things that you took as signs that somehow I had doubts. You allowed those signs to develop into fear that this wasn't real somehow. Sweetie, you're a brilliant logical man. Tell me, am I the only one who sees a pattern here?"

Chuck didn't answer at first. When his breathing calmed, he finally released his grip and asked hoarsely, "Just when did you get so smart?"

"Excuse me?" she retorted with a raised eyebrow. "You're not the only college graduate here, you know. I went to Harvard. Maybe you've heard of it." She chuckled and pressed a short kiss to his cheek before adding, "Besides, you know how competitive I am. You know everything about me. Seems only fair I'd want to know everything about you, right?"

He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed, before grinning. "So, what else did Morgan tell you?"

"Morgan?" she asked in faux surprise.

"Don't even try it," he said, his eyes sparkling. "You were at the deli this afternoon, and you're trying to tell me you didn't go across the courtyard and talk to the big mouth who knows all of the facts you just recited? You expect me to buy that?"

She really shouldn't have been so surprised that he saw through her that quickly. This was her husband, after all.

At the mention of Morgan, snippets of their conversation floated through her mind. This wasn't the time, however, to bring up questions about his dating this Hannah girl.

"Morgan's my friend, too, you know," she told him cheekily. "I'm allowed to talk to him. What else did he tell me? He kept telling me over and over how much you love me… but I already knew that. And for the record, he's every bit as wrong about a lot of things as you are. It's just that he has a better excuse."

Chuck, still smiling, shook his head. "You're pretty proud of yourself for figuring all this out, aren't you?"

Grinning, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He had just proven her point. He knew every single thing about her, so of course he knew that she was proud of herself. And because she knew all about him, too, she knew that he was proud of her in turn – for opening up, for speaking her mind, for working at this. Anyone who knew Sarah at all knew that when she wanted something, she was in all the way.

"I am," she confessed. "But I think you're pretty proud of me, too, aren't you?"

"Of course," he chuckled. He ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm. "Very proud. You're amazing, you know that?"

She shrugged. He'd always been impressed by her abilities as a spy, but the truth was that didn't matter much in the long run. Separately, they both had serious flaws. Together, though, they were pretty awesome.

In fact, now that they were in each other's minds so perfectly, maybe they should stop talking all together. They could simply know each other's thoughts, like the elves from Middle Earth.

Sarah's train of thought stopped abruptly at that. She wasn't quite certain where that had come from, but there it was.

Sighing, she settled back against Chuck. "Only when I'm with you," she murmured.

They stayed quiet for a little while before he finally said quietly, "I'm . . . Sarah, I'm really sorry about this." He sighed into her hair. "I do love you. I can't tell you how much. You shouldn't have to question that."

Again, she felt like she needed to slap some sense into him. Of course she knew that he loved her. Even if she didn't know every detail about him, it was there for the world to see.

She leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I know that. You know I do. But you have nothing to be sorry for. You've been incredible throughout this, and I will never, ever question that you love me. Maybe . . ." She trailed off, biting her lip.

Chuck tilted his head. "Maybe what?"

"Maybe you think I feel that way because you do? Because I haven't been so open about telling you I love you. Because I haven't been there for you as much as I should have been."

"No, no, no," he protested, shaking his head emphatically. "Sarah, you've saved my life so many times, I've lost count. I absolutely know that you love me. And it's not like you've never said it." With a shrug, he said, "I understand that talking about feelings has never been your thing."

She shifted on the couch to face him fully, then took his face between her hands. "I'm not talking about saving your life. It's not about that." Although yes, her concern for his safety was definitely above average because of how she felt about him. "It's about you waking up in the middle of the night and seeing me beside you and holding me and just knowing that I love you. Being absolutely certain. And knowing that we belong together."

Because that was the difference between a partner and a spouse. A partner may save you physically, but a spouse is there, always, to save you emotionally. And it's time she started trying to save him a little, too. If words alone wouldn't fix it, then she was always more action oriented anyways. Sarah Walker was going to earn her husband's trust.

Maybe 'trust' wasn't entirely the right word. Maybe 'comfortable' was a better choice. Yeah, she was going to earn him feeling comfortable.

Chuck pulled her closer and said, "We do, don't we?"

She smiled. Nowhere had ever felt so much like home as his arms did at this moment. Shifting against him, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. His arms slid around her waist to pull her closer. The kiss started off slowly but quickly grew in intensity, and before she knew it, her heart was racing.

Even with his hands on her waist and his lips on hers and their surfaces blending, she was coherent enough to know that now was the perfect time to start showing him just how much she loved him. So she pulled away from the kiss far enough to let him see her soft smile. "I'd like to propose a deal," she said.

Chuck clearly wasn't expecting anything at this point other than clothes being torn off, so it took him a moment to respond. And when he did, it was somewhat less than smooth. "Huh?" he asked. "A deal? What kind of deal?"

"We're both all in," Sarah said. "I think we've proven that rather conclusively this evening. Wouldn't you agree?"

Chuck didn't know exactly where this was going so he nodded tentatively.

"But we have to make sure that those stupid doubts don't creep back," Sarah continued. "We both deserve to be reinforced. But we're different people, Chuck. You're words and I'm actions. So here is my deal. You use your words. Keep telling me how much you love me and all of those sweet things that you're always saying to make me feel so wonderful. But when something bothers you, you need to use your words then too. Talk to me. At least give me a chance to fix it before you go running off crying to Morgan."

Chuck's initial reaction was concern. She was clearly not teasing. But when he noticed the soft smile on her face he relaxed a little. "Okay," he said rather tentatively. "I haven't been very fair, have I?"

"Neither of us has been very fair," Sarah said. "You deserve to be reinforced every bit as much as I do. I've dropped the ball on that. Since I struggle with words, I'll have to use my actions."

"Actions," Chuck said. "What does that mean? Is that code for more sex? I'd be up for that."

Sarah joined Chuck in laughing as she thought for a moment how to explain this to him. She flashed back to her meeting the other day. Beckman said that she was doe-eyed. Maybe that was a good way to explain it. "Maybe a little," she said with a clear twinkle. "I would enjoy that too." Then she paused for a moment to control her laughing and get more serious. "It's more than just sex though. It's how I conduct myself. It's holding your hand. It's looping my arm through yours when we walk someplace. It's not trying to hide the doe-eyed look on my face that tells the world how grateful I am to have such a wonderful husband… and how much I honestly adore him. I'll fawn over you. So, do we have a deal?"

Chuck didn't hesitate. "Deal," he said. "This might be interesting."

"It might be very interesting," Sarah agreed as she leaned in to kiss him. "So what's your vote? The bedroom? Or right here on the couch?"

"Huh?"

"I'm taking charge," Sarah replied with the twinkle now even more evident. "You know me. I have a need to make things happen. Fawning is not only sex, Chuck. But surely you realize that it includes sex. I'll allow you to decide where you want to be seduced tonight. The bed would probably be more comfortable... but the couch an exciting first, at least for me. The condoms being stored in the bedroom would have been a factor yesterday. But since this morning's discussion that no longer applies."

Chuck's grin lit up the room. There was also a beaming grin on her face, but she clearly wasn't really teasing. "Both good arguments," he said. "Let me think about it."

Sarah placed her hands on the side of Chuck's face and kissed him softly. Well it started off softly anyway. She got off the couch, stood directly in front of him, and began to slowly unbutton her shirt.

"Wait," Chuck protested in mock frustration. "I thought I was deciding."

"You took too long," Sarah said. She couldn't hide the giggle when she watched his eyes widen in wonder when her shirt slid to the floor.

"I'm action, Chuck. I thought we had already established that."

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