Summary: Down on her luck, America's Sweetheart Sarah Walker flies to Chicago for a job interview. When she meets a charming, bumbling nerd on the same flight, her life takes an unexpected turn.

Author's Note: I did a thing. I decided to participate in the NaNoWriMo, which could be both a blessing or a curse. If all goes well, I will be able to publish chapters more frequently :) fair warning, the pressure might just stress me out, soooo we'll see. I promise you though, that I'll get those chapters to you in one way or another. For now, hope you enjoy this new update!

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, fancy planes, artefacts, nor do I own the recipe to a good Martini.


Chuck had never been on such a fancy plane in his life before. It wasn't surprising though, given the fact that he had never flown before two weeks ago. As he entered the aircraft, he did his best to keep his face straight giving his fellow passengers the impression that he was in fact Charles Carmichael, head of a highly successful software company who spent his time commuting between L.A. and NYC in first class. In other words, someone who was used to the sophistication first class offered.

He didn't get far into the cabin though, as he was stopped by John Casey who so happened to be a flight attendant on this particular flight. Just his luck, Chuck thought to himself, as he searched for his ticket and handed it to the intimidating man before him. Different from his previous attire, Casey was now wearing a teal blue uniform, and a tiny crooked hat that seemed very much out of place on the head of such a grumpy looking man.

With the courage that his new name and alias provided him, Chuck said in a voice that would make Timothy Dalton proud of him: "Great to see you again, Casey. How's the airline treating you?"

Casey's stony expression didn't shift an inch. Instead, he handed the ticket back, and let out a grunt which Chuck translated as "nice to see you too," although he wasn't too sure, if he was being honest. It might as well have been a "they're treating me really well. Extremely satisfied with my benefits and it has a great pension too. Thanks for asking, Chuck." Who knew?

"You are in seat 2B, Mr. Carmichael, which is right over there. Enjoy your flight." Chuck shuddered slightly just at Casey's tone, and he was glad to move on into the cabin and create some much desired space between the two of them.

In the middle of the cabin, there was a small circular bar where a redheaded flight attendant - who Chuck recognized as Carina - was currently pouring a glass of whisky for an older gentleman. Chuck waltzed over to his seat next to the aisle, noticing the beautiful brunette sitting in the window seat in 2A, but before he could take a seat he was tapped on the shoulder lightly.

He turned around and came face to face with Sarah Walker. She had an easy smile, and wore a similar outfit to Casey's, although, while Casey's hat made him look like a creepy clown, Sarah looked even more beautiful than usual. It was good to see her again. It had been a week since their mission in the mansion, and he had had to be scrambled awake from his daydreaming by Morgan on multiple occasions.

"Welcome in first class, Sir. May I take your jacket?" Sarah asked, her eyes slightly twinkling which brought Chuck straight back into his daydreaming state, although now he wasn't dreaming and she was in fact standing in front of him.

"You wanna take my ja-, oh, yes, of course. My jacket, sorry about that," he said nervously taking off his jacket as Sarah raised an eyebrow in amusement. As he handed the jacket to her, their hands briefly touched, and a shot of electricity coursed through him.

The moment was over before it started, however, and Sarah was already asking the question they had come up with together that hopefully would grab the attention of the passenger sitting next to Chuck, enough at least to spark a conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you Charles Carmichael by any chance?" Sarah asked, her eyes a bit widening as if she was star struck. She was good, he thought. As they had hoped, the brunette looked up while Chuck replied: "Ah, yes. That would be me."

"I thought it might be you. My younger sister uses your application every day to make learning more accessible to her. She's progressed so much in school ever since she started using it. We don't know what we would have done without it. Thank you so much."

"That's great to hear. I'm always happy to hear that my algorithms are aiding those who really need it. I hope your sister will enjoy the new update that's coming soon," he smiled with ease. He didn't need to pretend at all as he talked some more about the application, since this had been exactly what he'd always wished to accomplish after graduating from Stanford. Instead, though, he'd been kicked out and he'd been circling in a pool of self-pity and self-doubt ever since.

"Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Carmichael. Enjoy your flight," Sarah gave him a little nod of encouragement, before moving towards the front of the plane where the passengers' coats were stowed.

Chuck fiddled with the cufflinks of his shirt a little, not used to wearing long-sleeved shirts, before he looked over at the brunette who had been watching their interaction. Instead of glancing away for being caught staring, she gave him a warm, curious smile.

"Sounds like a very interesting application," she then said. Bullseye.

"Uh, yeah. I try my best," he said sheepishly, dropping down into his seat. It was a definite upgrade from the seat he'd been in when he first met Sarah. For one, the leg space alone was enough for him to sigh in satisfaction. On top of that, the cushions were extremely comfortable, and if he wanted to, he could draw up the partitions for some privacy. Given the nature of this mission, however, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"That's funny," the woman next to him said, letting out a genuine giggle.

Chuck, new to having women actually laugh with him, rather than at him, mumbled a sheepish thanks which seemed to amuse her even more.

"I'm Hannah, by the way," she extended her hand which Chuck gladly shook, hoping honest to god she wouldn't notice his hands were sweating slightly.

"And you must be Charles?" she looked up through her eyelashes, looking a little uncomfortable now as Chuck, the idiot that he was, had yet to say something other than "I try my best," which in itself wasn't that great of a response either.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop just then. It was just kind of hard not to hear," she lowered her eyes in embarrassment. Pull yourself together Chuck. You can talk to women. You know how to charm them enough to get the boarding ticket she's placed in between her book of… is that Dune?

Oh boy, you're in for, buddy. Not sure whether it was the sight of Dune that shook him awake, but he was finally able to pull himself together as he hurriedly said: "Oh, no. Don't worry at all. And it's Chuck by the way. I mean, it's Charles, but my friends call me Chuck. So…"

"Chuck?" she offered, her shoulders lowering in relief as the awkwardness was slowly dissipating.

"Yeah," he grinned blushingly, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chuck. As I said, it's just Hannah."

"Well, just Hannah," he gave her a lopsided grin, "it's very nice to meet you too."


As Chuck and Hannah had now fallen into a light banter, Sarah was over by the bar pouring a glass for one of the other passengers in first class. As she watched the interaction between the two, she couldn't help but feel a little sting of uneasiness go through her. It couldn't be… no, she shook her head. She definitely wasn't jealous, was she?

"Heh," she heard from her right. She closed the cap on the bottle of whisky, before finally removing her eyes from Chuck who was laughing at something the brunette had said, to glance at Casey questioningly.

When he stayed mute, a smirk placarded on his face, she gave in and asked, her voice a little clipped:" What?"

That earned her another snicker from Casey. When she gave him an impatient glare, he relented.

"Nothing. I just never pegged him for being such a womanizer. Looks like the moron's got an M.O. though," he nodded towards Chuck, who was waving his arms around in big gestures. It sounded like he was talking about a guy named Jeffster – was that even a name? – but Sarah wasn't too sure. She was more focused on staring at the back of Casey's head as he had stepped in front of her to pour someone another drink.

"What do you mean?" she asked, before she could restrain herself.

"Just saying, Walker. First it was you, which I'm still having trouble understanding if I'm being honest, but hey, you do you. And now," he looked over his shoulder, pleased to see the frown that had appeared on Sarah's forehead, "it seems like he's got her too."

"He doesn't have me," she retorted, coming to stand beside Casey as she handed the glass to Carina who was manning the floor and bringing the drinks over. Unfortunately for Sarah, Carina had been listening in while doing her job, and she now let out a snicker that could compete with Casey's.

"Phah, he doesn't have you, my ass. Should I tell Casey about the time he came over to my place at 7 in the morning? Or last week when you were babbling on the phone like some lovesick teenager?"

Oh, she could kill Carina. She wanted to dispute her accusations but Carina had already moved over to the elderly man who was currently sporting his third drink, while they had yet to take off. Instead, Sarah'd have to boil in silence, not wanting to provide Casey with any more ammunition to fire.

"Relax, Sarah," Casey now said, moving out of the bar as well. As Sarah peered up through her eyelashes, she noted that while Casey had been ribbing her just as much as Carina had, his face had softened slightly.

"Whether he has you or not, from what I can tell, he seems like a much more decent guy than Bryce will ever be. Just saying. It's nice to have you back, by the way," he gave her nod.

Sarah gaped at that. Casey didn't do honesty. Not like that anyway. He usually didn't come near anything remotely to do with lady feelings, as he liked to call it, yet now he had. It surprised her. But before she could react or ponder on it more, Casey's face had morphed back into his usual state of annoyance as a bratty kid was calling for his attention in 5D.

Sarah looked over at Chuck and the woman again, and sighed as she went back to her task at hand.


They had been flying for over two hours now, of which Chuck and Hannah had talked for most of it. They'd briefly got sidetracked when a kid a few seats back had spilled his juice over Caser's pants, who had then stomped off in silent rage. Lucky for the kid that he was a kid, Chuck had thought. He wasn't sure Casey would have otherwise been able to contain himself from doing some permanent damage to whoever it was that had dared to spill all over him.

Chuck had been pleasantly surprised at how easy the conversation between him and Hannah seemed to flow. He hadn't even needed his back story to keep the conversation going as it turned out that he and Hannah had a lot in common. They'd first talked a bit about their respective jobs – Hannah worked as a consultant and art's dealer for various art galleries which allowed her to travel a lot – but they'd soon turned to Dune and how enthralled they both were by the new remake by Denis Villaneuve.

Chuck had also talked about his experience of working at the Buy More before finally making it big with his first educational application. He'd told Hannah about the various remarkable characters that walked the halls of the tech store, and Jeffster in particular seemed to amuse her as she kept on laughing and swatting his shoulder playfully in an attempt to catch her breath.

Every now and then, Chuck would notice Sarah in the corner of his eye. As they had decided beforehand, she would keep her distance to not alert Hannah of any possible foul play. Not that she would have if Sarah had been serving them. Who expected to be robbed on a flight in first class by your neighbor and a random stewardess?

Seeing as Hannah was clutching her book most of the time with her ticket still tucked inside, though, Chuck had figured that his best bet to get it would be for Hannah to go to the bathroom. For that to happen, he'd ordered drink after drink, which Carina had served with narrowed, accusing eyes. What was up with that, he'd wondered but soon forgotten as Hannah had pulled him in again with a story about the time she had worked and lived in Paris.

Being the gentleman that he was, Chuck had followed Hannah in her order, and he was now nursing his third glass of Martini, the alcohol slowly starting to take its effect. It was right when he finished it, that Hannah got up from her seat and announced that she was going to the powder room. With a last shy look, and her hand that brushed over his shoulder, she disappeared behind the cabin's bathroom door in the back. It was time for Chuck to move into action.

He surveilled the room to make sure no one was paying attention to him, and then carefully reached out to the book Hannah had left in her seat. With his phone, he took a picture of her boarding pass and quickly laid the book back as if nothing had happened. Then, he stretched loudly and got up from his seat.

As he had hoped, Sarah looked up from the bar, having caught his signal. She finished filling up a bowl of nuts, said something to Carina who was standing next to her, and came out from behind the bar.

"I should come out and say it, but I think I had a little too much to drink," Chuck whispered into her ear as he followed Sarah behind the curtain into the galley that was usually only meant for the cabin crew. To his surprise, Sarah snorted softly, pulling Chuck further into the narrow space by the front of his shirt, before shutting the drapes securely behind them. Then, she turned around, with an attempted straight face, but he could tell that her mask was slipping.

"What?" he asked, as a giggle escaped and the flight attendant quickly covered her mouth to prevent herself from any further giggles.

"Sarah?" he tried again as she was already moving towards the elevator that would bring them onto the lower deck where the luggage was stored.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she finished entering the code that allowed them into the elevator. As she turned around to face him again, she didn't look that sorry at all as she said:" It's just, you can't be drunk, or tipsy for that matter."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"I uh," she looked down, then, a little embarrassed, before she looked up again, her nose wrinkled," I made sure to make you Martinis without any alcohol."

"You did what?" he asked louder than he had intended.

"Ssht, come on," she pulled him with her into the elevator which so should not be for two people. Yet, they managed as the door closed behind him and the entrapment moved downwards.

"What do you mean, without alcohol?" he looked down at her, their faces mere inches from each other as cramped up as they were.

"Look, I commend you for thinking on your feet and trying to get her to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't risk you being hammered while we were down here. So, I made you virgin Martinis," she gave him a sober look.

"Hammered?" he repeated as he exited the elevator," who do you take me for, woman?" he said as the chillness of the room started to penetrate his clothes. That earned him an unimpressed look from Sarah, who wrapped her arms around herself.

"I mean, um, right. Good thinking," he avoided her gaze, and instead let his eyes travel over the multitude of suitcases in all shapes and sizes neatly stacked together under orange nets.

"Alright, so we should probably divide and conquer, don't you think?" he dared to look at her again, noting that she didn't seem too upset by his reaction as she simply nodded.

"Let me have a look where we need to go," he said, as he pulled out the burner phone where his assignments were sent. Sarah came to stand next to him, and they both reread the message.

"It says here that we should find the artefact in Hannah's bag, of which I have the number, and we should stow it in the suitcase with number-"

"Uh, Chuck?" Sarah interrupted, her head turning to face him.

"Yeah?" he lifted his eyes to meet hers. She looked worried, why did she look worried?

"I think you've misread the assignment," she said awkwardly.

"Wha- what do you mean?" he flipped his eyes back to the burner phone, going over the message again.

"I-," and then he understood. While Sarah had already told him that it was impossible for him to be inebriated, it was only now that he felt completely sober.

"Sarah, why do we have to put the artefact in Hannah's suitcase. That doesn't make any sense?" his voice was higher than usual. His eyes were searching for comfort in Sarah's, hoping that she would bring him consolation, that she would tell him that they must have made a mistake. But she didn't'. She looked as uneasy as he felt.

"I don't understand," he then said, as he realized she wasn't going to offer an explanation for the switch in assignment.

"I thought the whole point of them using me was to steal things? That's what I've been doing so far. First the device, then the diamond. This seems like it's the opposite of that. Why give something to Hannah?" he asked to no one in particular. He knew that if he was at a loss, so was Sarah, because why would she know any more than he did? What he didn't know, however, was that wheels were turning at full force in Sarah's head at that same moment.

Sarah had spent the week preparing herself mentally for going back to one of her dad's most common assignments. When Chuck had explained their latest mission on the phone, she had only been half listening, as past memories had drowned out his explanation.

But, she'd figured Chuck had been aware what the op entailed when he'd been explaining it to her. She didn't realize that she would be present when he'd make the realization that the artefact would be transferred in the opposite direction. That it wasn't them so much stealing from Hannah, as it was them planting something in Hannah's luggage.

Should she tell him, explain to him what would happen after the artefact was transferred to her luggage? What would happen once the plane had landed in JFK? That someone from the Ring would be waiting for her at customs? That they would take her to a backroom and ask her why she was transporting illegal goods?

That she would claim on her life that she'd never seen it before and that she had no idea what it was suddenly doing in her luggage? That someone else would enter the room, someone who'd pose as an ally, promise her to get her out of this mess? But then, when the customs officer would leave the room, the ally would turn on her and lay down her future path?

Go down for smuggling, or become a smuggler. Your choice.

Should she? Should she tell Chuck?

"You know what, I don't think I want to know," he said, his voice small. His face pale.

"Here, take the burner phone. I'll look for Hannah's suitcase," he said, his head lowered as he moved away from her in search of the suitcase.

Sarah remained standing for a little while longer, unable to move. She guessed she was relieved that Chuck seemed to accept his fate and didn't ask any additional questions. She didn't know what she would have done if he did. Would she have told him? And is she would have, how would she have explained to him how she knew?

"Found anything yet?" she heard from the other side of the room.

"No, not yet," she heard herself say. She closed her eyes briefly. Keep it together, Walker. When she reopened her eyes, she had shut off the nagging voices in the back of her mind. Something she'd learned to do very early on in her career with her dad. She looked at the numbers in the message, and started searching for the suitcase where she'd find the artefact.


Chuck was barely listening to what Sarah was telling him on their way up. He was too busy questioning himself and his actions to catch Sarah's warning that they should be careful when exiting. So when they did, he simply followed her out the elevator door, eyes peeled to the ground, and it was only when a feminine voice filled his ears that he looked up.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here." Both Carina and Casey were staring at them, their smirks eerily similar. How to explain that away?

He felt his face reddening, as Casey let out a little snicker and Carina looked him up and down, her eyes widened in astonishment and a hint of amusement. Sarah, on the other hand, had less patience, or embarrassment for that matter as she said: "Oh, shut up. It's not what you think. I was just showing Chuck around."

"Yeah, you were," Carina grinned, her eyebrows wiggling.

"You know what, think what you will. I'm going back to the bar," she said, moving towards the air cabin.

"Yeah, you are," Carina laughed behind her, following Sarah back into the main compartment leaving Chuck with Casey, but not before trailing her hand over Chuck's shoulder flirtatiously. Chuck shuddered uncomfortably at her touch, and squirmed a little in his place under Casey's scrutinizing eyes. As if the awkward silence couldn't get any worse, Chuck opted to speak, almost immediately regretting his decision.

"Nothing happened, but please don't tell her husband," from the moment the words left his mouth, he heard how bad it sounded. Casey seemed to agree as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, god, no. That's not what I meant. That sounds exactly like something someone who's got something to hide would say. But I'm telling you, nothing happened. Sarah, I mean, Mrs. Walker, she was telling the truth. I've never been on planes much and I guess she wanted to be kind, so… She just showed me around the plane, you know. Nothing more," as he kept rambling, the smirk on Casey's face only grew wider.

"You done?" he eventually asked when Chuck had to stop to take a breath. He nodded.

"Good, because I don't give a rat's ass about what you and Walker did or didn't do downstairs. As for her husband," Chuck gulped as Casey came a step closer.

"I'm sure he cares even less seeing as he's only one gavel strike away from being divorced."

"Divorced?" Chuck asked not caring how it sounded.

"Yeah, divorced. Why do you think she's been staying with Carina all this time? Now, I will ask you nicely, and I will only ask this once since you're a passenger on this flight, but, please, sir, move back to your seat. You're not allowed back here," he pointed through the drapes to where Sarah and Carina were both tending to the other passengers.

Chuck didn't wait to be told twice, and as he reentered the cabin, his head was dazed by everything that had just happened. He barely noticed Hannah when he sat down. He explained his long absence to food poisoning, and their conversation halted soon after as Chuck was too busy mulling over the last part of Casey's words.

As for her husband, I'm sure he cares even less seeing as he's only one gavel strike away from being divorced.

Only one gavel strike away from being divorced…


It was dark by the time they arrived at their hotel room. It had taken a while for Chuck and Sarah to leave the airport once it had landed in JFK, as part of Sarah's job was to clean up the first-class compartment. Since Carina and Casey were unaware of the real reason why Sarah had returned to her former interim job as stewardess and Chuck had decided to join her on their flight, Chuck had walked out of the airplane alone leaving Sarah behind.

He'd tried to salvage the strained conversation with Hannah, but his heart wasn't in it as he was too conflicted about the very real trouble he was sure to have caused her. He had apologized for his mental absence in the second half of the flight, but she hadn't wanted to hear it, saying that he'd had food poisoning and was entitled to his feelings.

"It's ok, Chuck, really," she had said, her hand on his bicep, making him stop in the middle of the terminal.

"Listen, I'm going to be in Burbank this weekend for a new temporary exhibition at the Burbank Historical Society. If you're feeling any better by then, I'd love to go for a cup of coffee with you. If you're interested, of course," she had added that last part with a shy smile.

"That would be nice," he'd said, his lips curling upwards, his brain for a second gloriously silent. But as she'd searched in her purse for her business card, the guilt of his actions had returned two-fold, and it was with a bitter taste in his mouth that he'd accepted her number and her kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye.

He had plopped into a nearby seat, his eyes glued to the little card, his sight unfocussed however, the numbers a blur. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but eventually, he had felt a hand on his shoulder, and he'd looked up to see Sarah who'd looked a little tired and troubled too.

"You ready to go?" she had asked, giving him a hand to pull him upwards. Casey and Carina had been standing a little to the side, both on their phones, their suitcases beside them.

"Yeah," he had mumbled.

They'd piled into an airport shuttle without words, Carina and Casey both more focused on getting to their respective hotel rooms than commenting on Chuck's presence. They weren't the only ones either, as the shuttle could seat eleven. No one seemed to care though that Chuck was the only one not dressed in any flight crew attire whatsoever.

The hotel was a half-hour drive from the airport, and while Chuck had expected at least some form of reaction from Carina, no one had batted an eye when Chuck was the only one not to ask for a key card at the hotel desk. The group of eleven had stepped into the elevator, each leaving on their respective floor, until Casey, Chuck and Sarah were the only ones remaining.

When the elevator arrived on the 8th floor, the three of them moved out into the dull yellow colored hallway. While Sarah and Chuck turned left, Casey moved right with a goodnight before closing the door to his room shut behind him. That left Sarah and Chuck alone as Sarah entered their key card, and opened the door.

The room was basic; a queen-size bed against the left wall, a couch and TV on the right, a small table with two chairs against the window and a door that lead to what Chuck assumed to be the bathroom.

"Should I have hacked into the hotel and gotten another room for myself?" Chuck asked as the one bed caught his attention.

"Um, no, it's fine. Besides, these hotels are mostly booked up months in advance by airline companies. The only reason we even have this room is because we got Zondra's after you moved her schedule around," Sarah said, as she placed her suitcase next to the window, and stared out at the view of Manhattan in the distance.

"Right. Thanks for letting me crash, then. I hadn't thought about lodging since I was more focused on getting that first-class ticket next to Hannah," Chuck said, dropping down onto the couch, his body exhausted after the day they'd had.

It had been rather difficult for Chuck to get a hand on his ticket. Unlike for Sarah, where he'd just switched Zondra to another flight that same day, something which happened very often to younger stewards' schedules, he couldn't just cancel the supposed passenger's ticket. Instead, he'd accessed their personal information, called them and told them there had been a double booking and they'd have to fly out the next day. Lucky for Chuck, the woman had been very understanding, and she had gladly offered her seat to the other passenger, seeing as she was in no hurry to get to New York.

"I'm going to take a shower," Sarah announced, not waiting for his reply as she entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Alone in the room, Chuck sunk deeper into the couch and flicked on the TV.


It was half an hour later when Sarah made it out of the bathroom in a white shirt with USAFA on it and a pair of grey joggings. Meanwhile, Chuck had changed into his own pajama; black sweatpants and a marine blue shirt. He'd found a blanket in the closet and had tried his best to make the couch as comfortable as possible, but given his height and the shortness of the couch, that proved to be quite difficult.

"What are you doing over there?" Sarah asked as she removed her hairband and went through her hair with a brush. She looked younger now, her face wiped clean from her makeup. Chuck observed her in the bedroom mirror, and quickly shifted his gaze as Sarah's eyes connected with his.

"I'm uhh- sleeping on the couch," he said, shifting a little as the pillow felt lumpy in his back.

"I can see that, but why?" she asked, turning around to face him.

"Um," he looked over his shoulder to the bed, and then back at her. Was she serious?

"Chuck, that couch is way too small for you. Take the bed. I'm smaller than you. I'll be fine on the couch," she said, returning to the mirror to finish brushing the last strand of hair.

"Sarah, you're flying to LA tomorrow at 9 in the morning. You need your sleep. I'm not going to let you sleep on the couch," Chuck protested.

"Ok, fine. Then no one's sleeping on the couch," she said, putting her brush back in her suitcase before moving over to the right side of the bed.

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked hesitantly, now sitting upright on the couch, watching Sarah move under the covers.

"Uhu. Don't worry, Chuck. I won't bite," she grinned with a lilt of teasing in her voice, pushing herself straighter to sit against the headboard.

"Ok, fine. But don't come knocking when I accidentally kick you out of the bed during the night," he said, getting off the couch and moving over to the left side of the bed.

"Kick me out of bed? What kind of sleeper are you, Chuck?" she clicked that final k, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Uh," he got flustered, his face reddening as he moved under the covers beside her. He tried his best to ignore her proximity, but it was hopeless as Sarah moved onto her side, and a waft of her shampoo filled his nostrils. Grapefruit, he mused.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked after a moment of silence. She must have taken his stillness for worry, but seeing as Chuck had been thinking about how great Sarah was, and how close she currently was to him, he decided it wiser to talk about the other thoughts that were bound to surface at some point in the near future.

"Why are you here, Sarah?" he asked instead, not daring to look at her.

"In bed?" she asked in confusion.

"No, I mean, why are you helping me out?" he now looked sideways, noting she was in fact even more beautiful without makeup. She was lying on her side, one hand under her head, the other disappearing under the blanket.

"I mean, you've told me that I don't deserve this, but nor do you, Sarah," he said, his brows furrowing.

"Why are you asking me now? Is this about today?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I guess so. God, Sarah. We've probably ruined her life today," he said, sitting up straighter, his hands going through his hair in mild desperation.

"Hey, Chuck, you don't know that," she moved onto her knees placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, forcing him to look at her. He lowered his hands to glance back at her between his fingers. She had never seen him this wounded before. If she could, she'd hug the guilt away. But she knew no matter what she'd say, she couldn't erase the feelings he was currently experiencing.

She knew that how much he'd try, how much he'd learn to live with the consequences, he'd never truly be free of the guilt. At least she didn't. Every day, she woke up with the knowledge that there were more than a hundred people out there whose lives had been ruined by something she had done.

"Sarah, I looked up the artefact we put in her bag. It was reported stolen yesterday from the National History Museum of Los Angeles. She's a curator and art's dealer; there's no way her luggage won't be checked upon arrival, and when they do…" he sighed, letting his head fall back against the headboard.

He was right. There was nothing for Sarah to say to change his mind, because that was most likely what was happening to Hannah right now.

"Sarah, if you want to quit, I'd understand. Stealing is one thing, but this… we've just ruined an innocent person's life, Sarah. And for what? So that my sister can keep her job. So that she, Devon and I can keep on living in Echo Park? It's not fair, Sarah."

"Chuck, listen to me. She's your sister. It's more than understandable that you'd do anything you can to keep her safe. This is not on you, you hear me? This isn't your choice, you aren't choosing to harm anyone," she said, and while she said it, she felt guilty for repeating the words back to him that she had told herself daily to justify her own actions. She felt sick for giving him the exact same speech that had offered her that tiny smidge of comfort when all she'd truly wanted to do was make it stop, turn her father in.

But she'd been too much of a coward. And now, she was repeating those empty words to someone who didn't deserve any of this. A pure-hearted soul who wasn't meant to be and never would become a bad guy.

"Sarah, I did have a choice. I had as much of a choice not to hack into places I shouldn't have, as I had the choice to not go through with the assignment today. I did both those things anyway, and now I'm the bad guy who ruined someone's life."

If he was the bad guy, then she was even worse. While Chuck admitted to having a choice, she'd convinced herself somewhat that she'd never had a choice. But she was wrong, where Chuck was right. She did have a choice, and she had made the wrong one time and time again.


The first thing to alert her that he was awake was when his fingers started to softly stroke hers. It was early, the sun was barely up. A lone ray of sunshine crept through the blinds and bathed them in a glow of orange. It was that same ray of sunshine that had first woken her up, hitting her right in the eyes.

She had blinked against it, her surroundings becoming clear to her again. She was in a hotel room in Queens, somewhere close to the airport. Yesterday, she and Chuck had recruited a new unwilling member to the Ring. Yesterday, she had witnessed first-hand how Chuck had lost his innocence, as the reality of his predicament had come crashing down on him.

They had fallen asleep eventually, both lost in thought. Chuck beating himself up for all the mistakes he'd made that had lead him here; Sarah realizing that if it weren't for her, Chuck probably would have never been in this situation to begin with.

The next thing she'd noticed after her current whereabouts, was how hot it was in the hotel room. Sarah normally never slept completely under the covers. She preferred to have her arms over them to limit the feeling of being trapped as much as possible. Her feet on the other hand were always freezing cold. That had always bothered Bryce, who'd usually rolled away from her after their lovemaking.

So how come she felt like she was in a furnace now? She shifted slightly until she noticed the glowing body behind her, only then remembering that she was sharing the bed with Chuck. His face was mere inches from her neck, his breath hot on her skin. She realized it was his arm that was tightly wrapped around her torso, her hand covering his.

As her fingers moved on their own accord, playing with his long slender fingers, she felt his move under hers as if they were dancing. Their hands moved into the air, a summersault as it were. She buried her head more into the cushion, her body shifting more comfortably against Chuck's upper body. As she did, he pulled her hand towards him, tugging her body even closer to his. Then, she felt his head move behind hers.

His chin touched her shoulder, as Chuck lifted his head to look down at their hands clasped together. His legs moved against hers, as if he was only now fully becoming aware of his surroundings and their position. As he shifted, his lips softly brushed her neck, and Sarah couldn't take it anymore.

She turned her head and was surprised to have big brown colored eyes staring back at her. Their noses were nearly touching, his breath hot on her lips. He swallowed. Her heart was racing. Their eyes flicked down to each other's lips at the same time. They held their gaze for another moment, before something inevitably snapped and they were pulled together like a rubber band.

His lips came crashing down on hers. His hand moved to her neck, as hers did to his. He tasted of peppermint and cinnamon, as her tongue swiped his. He pressed her into the cushion, giving her an open-mouthed kissed. Sarah turned her torso flipping Chuck onto his back, his hand pulling her face closer. She let out a whimper as he sucked on her lower lip. The kiss needy and full of promise.

She climbed onto his lap, his hands lowering to her waist as her hands gripped his luscious locks which made him gasp into her mouth. He pushed her back onto her side of the bed, his hand touching bare skin as her shirt riled upwards leaving goosebumps in its wake. His mouth moved over hers and then trailed a path down her neck, tasting her skin, nipping her collarbone.

She let out a moan as he sucked on her skin there, his fingers drawing an electrifying pattern on her abdomen. Her fingers reached out to his chin, lifting his gaze to meet hers. His lips smacked, and she almost mewed out at the loss of contact. Their chests brushing against each other as they took uneven breaths.

His eyes were darkened, intense, his lips curling upwards in wonder and awe. A jolt of electricity surged through her lower abdomen at the sight, her smile as wide as his. Her hands clamped around his left bicep; with her other, she removed some hair out of her face. Her eyes lowered to his lips again, swollen from their kissing.

She lifted her head slightly, reaching out to his mouth, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. He didn't help her though, his head remaining put, as she let her head fall back down onto the pillow. She narrowed her eyes as he smirked, before he dipped down again taking her lips, starting another tantalizing kiss. She was just about to deepen it, her hands moving to the waistband of his pants when there was a loud knock on the door.

Chuck kept kissing her unaware of the sound. It was only when a loud voice boomed through their room that Chuck lifted his head, his hair disheveled, his gaze still dreamy.

"Walker. Carmichael. The shuttle's leaving in five; you better be on it, or we'll all miss our flight."

Crap.


A/N: Well... that just happened. I feel like the song "it's getting hot in here" is appropriate right about now. Or "Creature Fear" by Bon Iver since that seems to be having the same effect on people lol.

Next on Chuck vs the Pilot: Hopefully some more of that. Who knows? Well, I do, but I don't want to spoil everything now, do I? I guess you will just have to wait and see, muhaha.

Your feedback is much appreciated!