A/N: Hey everyone…guess what?…give up?…well, here's a hint…fluff…still can't guess?…well, here's another hint…more fluff…ah, I give up…it's another chapter of fluff 'n' stuff…just because I like you all so much…and because I typed, after writing, all of these words…how nifty is that?…well, pffffttt…I think it's nifty…and, yes…sugary sweet…hope you enjoy…no really…I do…so what are you gonna do for me?…review?…who could ask for more?…you're right, I could…but I won't…please believe me…the reviews are enough…for now…once the rest of the trans-dimensional universes acknowledge me as the supreme overlord…well, then we'll re-prioritize things…but for now…sunshine and smiles and…reviews…thanks….JT
As I'm so fond of saying…and many would laugh at my hubris…this stunning work of fiction is completely beat free…and even though I own nothing in the official Chuckverse and I'm still not making any money at this…I'm still one of the many authors who post here…hoping that you'll read and enjoy my 'stuff'…and that you'll send me copious e-mails, declaring your undying devotion for me, offering to serve the supreme overlord…when that day comes…and, wait…is it times for my meds?…again?…oh, that explains it…sorry, my bad.
Thanks Jim.
Sarah Vs. The Strong Swimmer Chapter 16
Chuck sat at the kitchen counter, staring into his coffee cup. Since the day of the 'tan hand' incident, he had come to suspect something about, to know something about and to fear something about the love of his life…Sarah Walker.
He suspected that Sarah was trying to drive him crazy and she was doing it in the sexiest way imaginable. She had taken to wandering around their apartment with little or no clothing on. Whenever she would catch him staring, which he had to admit was damn near every…alright, every time, she would give him the eyebrow waggle and moments later his own state of dress would be mirroring her own. He smiled as he thought about this 'horrible' problem and wondered how long, if what he suspected was true, it would be before he finally went 'koo-koo for cocoa puffs'?
Abandoning what he suspected, Chuck thought about what he knew…he knew that he couldn't continue to take Sarah out on installations. He loved her company but on every job she would find the supply closet…or a similar, small room…and would then trick him into joining her, in said room and that would always lead to…well, it would lead to Chuck emerging from said room, a sweaty mess and, moments later, Sarah emerging with a glow and a smile. If Chuck was honest with himself, he was pretty easy to trick, as far as the 'supply closet gambit' went.
When he combined what he suspected with what he knew…he reached his fear. He was sure it was just him being silly but , still, he feared that the woman he loved, the mother of their unborn twins…the undeniably sexy and adventurous, Sarah Walker…was going to be the death of him…or at the very least, the reason that he would slip into a 'sex coma'.
A light knock at the front door shook him from his musing and he glanced at the clock for the microwave, noting that it was just a little after five. Chuck had been awake since four-thirty, thanks to…well, thanks to biology…more specifically, Sarah's biology. A burning sensation in his nostrils had awoken him and he fled their bedroom, sure that he would return to discover that all of the paint had peeled from the walls.
Chuck was the first to admit that he couldn't say no to Sarah but he promised himself that if she ever asked for a late night snack like the one she'd inhaled last night, he would say yes and then, at the first opportunity, he would sneak out of the room and sleep on the couch. The request had started simply enough…a grilled banana and peanut butter sandwich. He was about to put the sandwich in the frying pan when Sarah had added to the order, requesting that he add some Wickels pickles, some sauerkraut and then finally, some miniature marshmallows to her treat. He'd made two sandwiches for her and two grille cheese for himself. He'd taken the plate with all four sandwiches into the bedroom and left it, returning to the kitchen for a Rockyroad milkshake. He returned with her drink and found the plate empty. Shaking his head, he'd handed the milkshake to the vacuum cleaner in their bed, shrugged out of his robe and slid into the bed.
He'd gotten almost five hours of sleep before the gas attack commenced. With his eyes and nose burning, Chuck quickly and quietly wiggled out of bed and fled to the kitchen, hoping coffee would help him start his day a little early. A second set of soft knocks reminded him of the first ones, getting him to his feet and headed for the front door, promising himself that if it was Lester and Jeff, he'd let Sarah or Casey kill them. Using the peephole, he sighed and then swung the door open and walked away, sure that Casey would close the door behind himself.
As he watched, Casey entered the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and then took a seat at the counter. He almost laughed when he watched Casey take a sniff, then pull his cup closer and sniff again before putting the cup down, giving one final sniff.
"Jesus, Bartowski…two questions. One, what the hell did you eat last night and two, is Walker still alive?" the big man asked, the look on his face a mixture of a smirk and a grimace.
"For your information, I…"
"You're kidding…the 'two-seater' was responsible for that crop dusting? I'm impressed, horrified and worried about your health…all at the same time."
"Casey, please…don't tease her about…"
"Do you honestly think I'd poke that hormonal bear with a stick?" Casey asked with a glare. "I'm not stupid. Get into some work-out clothes and we'll go get some fresh air. Hurry up…I'll be waiting…outside." Casey said as he downed the last of his coffee and got to his feet. "You realize that this just goes to prove that Walker really is a bad…"
"Don't say it" Chuck tried to interrupt.
"…ass!" Casey finished with a snort.
"Oh, ha ha…very funny. Maybe I should tell Sarah that you suddenly have a sense of humor…and then share that joke with her…"
"Uh…no. That won't be necessary. Three minutes, hurry up" he said over his shoulder as he walked out the front door.
-00-0-00-0-0
Casey started off at a steady pace and Chuck was surprised that he wasn't struggling to keep up. After what seemed like a mile or so, Casey began speaking in a low voice, forcing Chuck to maintain the same pace in order to hear what the older man was saying. Chuck seemed to lose track of time as he listened to details for, and advice about, their upcoming mission to Peyman Ah Lahee's Malibu beach house.
"There's something else we need to talk about, Bartowski."
"Um…ok. I'm listening" Chuck answered, his breath getting a little short.
"Walker won't be able to do to many more missions with us…I mean, maybe she'll be able to man the van …but, before to long, we're gonna have to get a new 'third', you know what I mean?"
"What? Can't we just run the missions ourselves?"
"Because, numbnuts, no matter what sick little thoughts you may have…I don't look good in a strapless and heels." Casey replied with a snort.
"Ok…I get it. So, who do you think we should get? I'm guessing that you have someone in mind."
"Yeah…I do…but the baby maker is not gonna like it."
"Carina? You can't be serious…you are, aren't you?"
"Yeah…believe it or not. I know she's a little wild but after the last mission, she'll be very careful with you…wouldn't want to get her nose broken…again. And as an added bonus, she's already sorta familiar with you…so less people to know about , and possibly blow your cover."
"What about 'auntie' Diane and 'uncle' Art…will they be cool with it?" Chuck asked, thinking ahead to possible problems.
"Well…if Walker and I both offer our 'support' for the idea…and you agree…yeah, I think they might give it a try."
"Alright, Casey. I'll talk to Sarah…after the mission. Maybe I'll wait until after the next mission as well. There's something else I want to talk to her about first…"
"Don't you dare!"
"What, Casey?" Chuck asked, clearly confused.
"Just don't…at least not for another twenty three days."
"Uh…why not? I mean, why not do whatever it was …I …was thinking about doing?"
"Because…moron…there are several pools going and it's too soon for me to win…"
"Pools?"
"Oh yeah…when…where…what time…if Walker says yes or no…"
"Casey…you can't be serious."
"Sure I can…in fact…Walker's running all of them…well, except for the 'yes or no' one…that would be unfair…after all, she already knows the answer…so…" Casey answered, looking just a serious as Chuck had ever seen.
"So?"
"So…we're home. Tell Walker you did seven miles today…maybe she'll give you a reward. Remember, mission 'wheels up' at noon."
Chuck stopped and watched as Casey jogged into the courtyard and angled towards his apartment. Moments later he watched as the burly NSA agent disappeared behind his front door. Glancing around, his eyes locked on the apartment door behind which were answers…Chuck just wasn't sure which answers he actually wanted. Shaking his head again, he managed to clear enough of the mental debris to continue his forward motion, getting within feet of the apartment door before it seemed to open in anticipation of his arrival. A blonde vision stood within the doorway, her arms spread wide, ready for a hug.
"Hey, Sarah…can you guess who jogged seven miles today?" Chuck asked with a smile as he stepped through the door and into her waiting arms.
"Um…the big, sweaty nerd in my arms…who really needs a shower" she finished as she released him and crinkled her nose.
"That's right…sorry 'bout all the sweat…and stuff. I guess I didn't realize how far we ran, what with Casey talking to me about …stuff." Chuck finished, hoping Sarah wouldn't push for more information on what they had talked about.
"Chuck, that's ok…I prefer to be the one responsible for you sweating…but since you are getting in better shape…and that will ultimately work out for me…I'll let it pass. Now, go take a shower while I make you breakfast.' Sarah said as she turned Chuck with her hand gripping his shoulder and pointed him towards the bathroom.
"Um…Sarah?…we're out of pop tarts…so…"
"So what?…I'm going to make you an omelet…just the way you like it….don't give me that look…Ellie taught me yesterday…and she agreed that I was ready…so be prepared to be amazed. Now go…" she said, giving him a swat on the ass. "…I want you clean…until I decide to get you all sweaty again."
Holding in a sigh of relief, Chuck closed the bathroom door and after throwing all his sweaty clothes into the laundry basket, he climbed into the shower, confidant that he'd dodged a big one. Minutes later, the sound of the bathroom door opening had him rethinking his earlier conclusions.
"Chuck?…What exactly were you and Casey Talking about?"
"Oh, you know…stuff."
"Chuck…I don't know…hence the question…so?"
"So?"
"So answer the question , Chuck…or I'll tell your sister that you're suddenly not feeling well and I'm worried…"
"Don't do that, Sarah…" Chuck almost pleaded, knowing that 'Ellie concern' was vastly less embarrassing than 'Dr. Ellie concern'. "…we just talked about the mission today and then he told me…."
"What was that, Chuck? You seemed to be mumbling. Care to try again?"
"Sorry. I just said that I asked him about something and he…." Chuck mumbled again and then froze when the shower door slid open. Reaching in, Sarah grabbed his ear.
"Care to try again…Mr. Bartowski?"
"Ouch…Sarah?…Ok…Ok…I sorta told Casey I was thinking of asking you a question and he…well, he sorta told me not to…because you were running the pools and he wanted to wi…so he told me to wait…"
"What?" Sarah almost shouted. "You were asking Casey advice on…let me guess…proposing…and John Casey told you I was running pools…on your proposal?…is that about right?"
"Well…yes?"
Releasing his ear, Sarah gave him a quick slap to the back of the head before re-acquiring his earlobe. "And you believed him?"
"Well…he seemed really serious and we had just finished talking about the new third and…"
"WHAT?" Sarah did shout…with quite a bit of effort. "You're coming with me…" she hissed as she used his ear to pull him from the shower, pausing for a moment to let him grab a towel before continuing her path towards the front door.
Chuck scrambled to wrap the towel around his waist as he stumbled after the grim faced force of nature who, only minutes earlier had been ready to make him breakfast. Before he knew what it, they were standing in front of Casey's door, Sarah knocking politely…as if nothing was wrong. Chuck watched as the door opened and Casey took in the sight before him and then Chuck saw something he honestly thought he'd never see…he saw fear in Agent John Casey's eyes.
A/N: Again...sorry it was short...could've added more words but then...it wouldn't have been such a nerve wracking 'cliffie', would it? what?...you didn't think it was nerve wracking?...well, pffffftttt!...you try writing this...just not you quistie...tha'll be enough of that...writing all that cool stuff...and , well...stuff...oh, go ahead...have fun...just remember...i'll be able to say...remember that 'Shaw death' thing?...and you'll be like...'please, I can't forget, god knows I tried, it took took 3 Pulitzers to wash the stink of that off me'...god, there I go...rambling again...I know what you can do, review. JT