Warning: This chapter is a little steam-may
He wakes up from a particularly heated dream and rubs his eyes.
He hates that this keeps happening, but he can't help it. Everything in him misses her, even though she's just down the hall.
The guestroom is quiet, save for Chuck's heavy breathing, and he lays back down, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself.
It occurs to him that maybe being so close to Sarah without being able to be close with her was a bad idea; that maybe he should have let her leave or left himself even. He could have gone anywhere.
But could he really have left her all alone?
The answer to that is quite simple: No.
He'd never have been able to leave Sarah, even if it would have been for his own good.
He loves her too much.
But Chuck lets his mind drift as his body cools off; he thinks about all the places he could go and all the people he could meet and realizes that none of it would compare to sharing a pizza and watching a movie with his wife while their cat prowls around the apartment.
He sighs. While he's successfully relaxed himself , he not sleepy anymore, so he stands up and wanders out and down the hall, rubbing his arms. It's not really cold but leaving the warmth of the guest bed makes him shiver.
The Colonel has climbed up on the kitchen counter and is splayed out. He squints and makes a slightly grumpy noise when Chuck turns the lights on, but is still purring.
He pats the cat's head and then swings the fridge open.
"Chuck?"
He looks up and finds Sarah standing there. She looks a little flushed; a little hesitant.
Chuck frowns. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," she says quickly. "I just...woke up."
He nods. "Uh...I was just lookin' for a snack. You want anything?"
"No."
Chuck stares at her for a long moment. "Uh...okay."
She stares back at him for a long moment before storming up to him and closing the refrigerator door.
"Something wrong" he asked, concerned. "Because if you're worried about using up electricity, I think we're okay..."
She stares at him for a moment more before fisting her hands into his t-shirt and pulling him into a kiss.
The half-yelp, half-squeak that leaves his throat is drowned out by the surprised yowl the Colonel lets out when Sarah shoves Chuck against the counter, her hands moving up to his hair.
He really means to pull away; to ask her what's going on; to suggest maybe they should slow down.
He means to, but instead he shifts them, lifting Sarah up onto the counter and running his hands over her as he keeps kissing her.
It takes another moment before Chuck pulls away, taking a deep breath. "Sarah..."
She leans in for another kiss, which he gives into but ends quickly.
"Sarah...Sarah wait..."
She stares at him and he can tell she's pulling away from him emotionally.
"It...it's not that I don't want this..."
She scoots closer to him. "Then what are you waiting for?"
Chuck strokes her hair gently. "For you to tell me what brought this on."
Sarah looks away and he waits, watching her carefully.
"Aren't you tired of tip-toeing around each other?"
"I don't want to push you," he says softly. "And I didn't want you to feel rushed into something you might not be ready for."
"Do I look not ready to you?"
Chuck swallows, his eyes wide.
Sarah leans in, her lips close to his ear. "Do I look rushed?"
He stammers then, not quite ready for her to pull that soft voice out on him. "I...I mean you...I mean it depends on..." he swallows again. "It depends on what kind of rushed we're talking about?"
She smiles at him and leans in for another kiss, but he swallows.
"Sarah maybe...maybe maybe..."
Sarah stares at him expectantly, sliding a leg around him and Chuck gasps.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this on the kitchen counters," he says quickly.
She grins.