A/N: I know what a lot of you might say, you have a fic called vs College. You have done some of this stuff before. You have other fics not finished. I hear you, and I understand. Ugly truth, I'm hurting right now, a lot. Emotionally. I'm having a lot of trouble with it. A close friend has died, leaving another of my close friend a widow with two kids. My personal life…it's been a mess for years. I'm hurting, and I need to escape. This is me escaping. I do hope you enjoy it. Fic takes place present day.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

"Are you sure you don't mind taking me to the gym?" Chuck smiled at Mrs. Robinson. Chuck, Ellie, and Devon had moved into this apartment a few months ago. It was right after he had gotten kicked out of Stanford by his then best friend.

Chuck had been devastated, and had thought about going back to the Buy More. He probably would have, if it hadn't been for Devon. As he told the story of what happened at Stanford to Devon one night, amongst a ridiculous amount of alcohol, Chuck saw something on Devon's face he had never really seen before. Anger.

Devon asked Chuck if he could contact a few people, and see if there was anything he could do to help Chuck. Chuck, drunk as a lord, shrugged, and told him that would be fine.

What Chuck wasn't aware of was Woody, Devon's father, was an attorney, with clout Chuck didn't know existed. The process didn't take long at all, somehow, and before it was over, Stanford was apologizing. Chuck didn't feel right going back to Stanford, and Woody understood. Why would anyone?

As the negotiations with Stanford continued, and Chuck referred to it more as a hostage situation, the way Woody was being a brilliant legal mind, Chuck wondered if he would end up being the dean.

In the end, of all Chuck's credits transferred to UCLA, Chuck was to take a year sabbatical to get his mind right, and then reenter college to finish his degree. He also received a healthy monthly stipend from Stanford during those sabbatical months for room and board.

While Chuck didn't need the money during his time off, he did want something to do. Ellie and Devon both begged Chuck not to go to the Buy More. They had found an apartment for all three of them to move in to, and that was where they had met Mrs. Robinson.

Mrs. Robinson had been recently widowed and lived alone. She didn't like to drive and wasn't a fan of cabs either yellow or those you got with an app. She had joked with the three when they had moved in, if they were ever lonely and wanted company when they went somewhere, she would gladly join them.

Chuck began to spend and hour or two a day with Mrs. Robinson, and learned about her and her late husband. When Chuck learned that she missed working out with her, "Silver Sneakers" group, he insisted to take her.

She had laughed at him, and said there was no way she was going to take up the offer. One, he would have to wait there for her while she exercised, and two, the women there would eat him alive. This morning, he had arrived at her apartment, in workout clothes, telling her she had thirty minutes to get ready.

"I mean I have a headband on and everything," Chuck told Mrs. Robinson, answering her question. She shook her head, gave him a grateful smile, and took his arm as he lead her to the car.

}o{

Sarah Walker looked around the room and grinned at all the excited women. Apparently Janice was going to rejoin the group today. It had been over six months since Sarah had seen Janice. Sarah felt awful that she couldn't go get her every week for the class, but she was barely getting by.

"Had to go live the straight life," she muttered. She had been arrested at sixteen, when she refused to join the Director of the CIA, or whoever the hell that man had claimed to be. She still couldn't figure out what the Director of the CIA would be doing in California, operating on US soil, and after her father as well.

When she got to court, she knew that the past several years had given her a break. She had stayed out of her father's cons for the most part for the past few years of her life, and there had been a ton of scrutiny on the department that used to be known as the California Youth Authority.

The department had been renamed the California Division of Juvenile Justice (DJJ) and they had a new mission. Sarah was told she was going into a foster home, and if she behaved, and graduated high school, her record would be expunged.

She was placed with foster grandparents, something new that was being tried, and became to think of them as family. She didn't know what her father had done with her birth certificate that no one knew about her mother, but she was getting a second chance at life, and she knew better than to say anything.

Joshua and Patsy Franklin had become parents to her over the next two years, and one of the things Patsy asked Sarah to do was to drive her to her "Silver Sneakers" meetings in the summer. Sarah took her, and would sit and watch. After the third trip, she joined in, and began to exercise with Patsy and her friends.

Sarah was stunned. She hadn't realized that these retired women put as much into the workouts as they had. They became the highlight of Sarah's week, and when she graduated high school, she became the instructor of the class.

She had done well in high school, enough to get a full-ride scholarship to UCLA, but that required her to maintain her GPA to keep those scholarships. She had a very fixed budget, and going once a week to pick up Mrs. Robinson, when Sarah mostly used the bus, was very cost prohibitive. Sarah was excited as anyone that Janice was returning today.

}o{

She was getting ready for class, when the commotion broke out, Janice was here…and so was some man. It never failed. Every once in a while, some guy who wanted a date…at best a date, would show up to class to prove how amazing he was, and Sarah, at the encouragement of the class, would work his ass off.

By the time the class was over, the guy, usually in good shape, was wheezing, being told by the older ladies that, "not bad for a first time," and, "Edna here took a few times to get all the rhythm down," would leave, with their tail between their legs.

She hoped, for his sake, he was simply in the wrong room. She doubted it. He was wearing a bright, hot pink, headband. "Ladies, you know the drill," Sarah said. Everyone turned to her, smiling. "First we work, then we gossip."

"You heard her!" One of the ladies in the back said. Everyone took their spots, and she saw "Mr-hot-pink-headband-with-curly-hair-and-tall," take a spot in the back of the room. "Don't forget, it's leg day, Sarah."

"Oh, I haven't," Sarah said. She saw the look on the guy's face with the pink headband. She wanted to laugh.

}o{

"That's it ladies…and gentlemen, let's hold those legs off the floor for another two minutes!" Sarah yelled.

There were some groans, and she heard the very male voice in the back mumble, "Isn't this against the Geneva Convention?" A few of the ladies around him giggled.

"If you can laugh, we're not doing it hard enough, let's make it three minutes!" Sarah yelled.

"Don't punish them, it was me," the man in the back yelled back. Sarah blinked. She had rarely ever heard any guy who took this class take the blame.

"You're new, you don't know, they do," Sarah said. "Besides if I didn't they'd think I was soft."

She saw him wanting to reply, but he clamped his lips shut, not wanting to get anyone in trouble, and it made her want to laugh.

"Are you laughing?" Bernice, a lady in the front row asked. Sarah gave her a look. "Honey, you don't scare me." That did make Sarah laugh. "You do four minutes."

"Fine," Sarah replied, winking at Bernice. She looked at the man in the back. Sweat was popping off of his head and he looked to be in pain. "Hey, don't have a heart attack, if you can't do three, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh, thank God," he mumbled, letting his feet hit the ground. Sarah thought her jaw would bounce off the floor. She had never seen a man in any of these classes that didn't say or show his actions to be, "Anything they can do, I can do."

These women had been putting in the work for years. They had been through these workouts numerous times.

"Okay, let's turn it up a level," Sarah said. It took everything in her to not laugh at the look of horror on the man's face in the back row.

}o{

"Okay, let's cool down with a good stretch," Sarah said. She watched the man in the back, nearly collapse to the ground. "How about a child's pose from yoga?"

There was a lot of murmured agreement in the room. The women went down to the floor. They sat with their feet under them, the tops of their feet touching the floor, and bent forward, their chest, arms, and hands on the floor.

The man looked around, unable to get that low. "I can't bend like that," he said to Sarah.

"Just get as low as you can," Sarah told him.

"You keep at it, Chuck," Janice said. "One day you'll be able to do this like us."

Janice knew him…and she came today for the first time in months. Was this her driver? Sarah felt awful. She put herself in child's pose so no one could see her shame.

}o{

She was talking to Linda, letting Janice talk to the larger group. Some had left, and others were getting ready to. "Hey," she heard behind her when Linda walked away. Sarah turned. "Chuck Bartowski," he said, his hand out. Sarah took his hand and shook it, and tried with all her might to ignore whatever the hell she just felt pass between them.

"Sarah Walker," she told him. "Except when I'm up there," she said, tilting her head toward the front. "Up there I'm the 'Ice Queen.'"

"Cause you're so cool and collected?" Chuck asked.

"Nope, cold-hearted, with no feelings," Sarah told him, making Chuck laugh. "What?"

"No feelings," Chuck replied shaking his head. "You and this class are all Mrs. Robinson talked about on the way over here. I saw the smile on your face when she showed up. I saw you trying not to laugh at me."

"I'm so sorry-" Sarah began.

"What are you apologizing for?" Chuck asked, honestly. "I had to look ridiculous. I haven't done anything athletic, and older or not, these women very obviously work out all the time." Chuck looked over at the women and smiled. He turned back to her. "And that's why I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Mrs. Robinson has been through a lot, and this class means a lot to her," Chuck said. "And you keep this going. I know these classes are closing down everywhere, but because of you, she had something to look forward to, and that's hard when you lose someone. And-and, I'm not saying that to guilt you into keep doing this if you're thinking of not," he rushed out. "I just want you to know that it's important to people. Thank you."

"Ah…you're..welcome?" Sarah replied, confused and stunned.

"See you next week?" Chuck asked.

"Yep," she replied, flummoxed. "Yep, I'll be here."

"See you then, Sarah Walker," Chuck said, as he turned to leave.

"See you," Sarah replied. She watched him go. What was that? What in the whole entire hell was that?"