Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck


Her eyes popped open, and she sat up. She had heard something. She listened and there it was again.

"Why the hell did I lock the back door?" she heard the drunken slurred voice. Sarah grabbed the robe near her bed, slipped it on, and looked out her back window. She studied the sight, rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming and looked again.

There was a man…a tall man with curly hair, lighting the grill, and putting frozen hamburger patties on said grill.

She looked over at the bat in the corner she kept for protection, looked back out the window, and made her decision. She padded out of her room, to the sliding glass door, unlocked it, came out, and sat on the patio chair. He turned to her, waved, and went back to the grill.

"How do you like your burger?" he asked.

"Medium-well, with pickles," Sarah told him, amused at this point. He reached into the bag, and pulled out a jar of pickles. "Oh, those are perfect."

"I aim to please," the man said. "If I may be so bold, why are you in my apartment, and why did you lock the door, keeping me out?"

"Because it's my apartment," Sarah told him.

"No, it is not," the man argued, shutting the grill lid, turning, and reaching out for the table so he wouldn't stumble. Sarah started to reach for him to steady him. "I'm okay," he said. "Someone just moved the patio on me."

"Or, you could be drunk," Sarah offered.

"That's possible," he replied. "I signed the lease, all by myself." She gave him a strange look. "My apartment lease, that you say is yours." She looked away, fighting off the laughter. "And-and, I'm pretty sure I'd notice if you were my roommate."

"Think I'd have girly things hanging everywhere?" Sarah asked, unable to stop grinning at this idiotic situation.

"Listen, I lived with my sister and her boyfriend for a while, and he had more things hanging in the bathroom then her," he told Sarah. "No, I'm just saying I'd sure as hell someone as pretty as you being my roommate. They don't make amneesiaa…annnmessii….I wouldn't forget you."

"Amnesia?" Sarah offered.

"Easy for you to say," he slurred. "I'm Chuck," he told her, putting out his hand. She shook it. "Chuck Bartowski."

He turned back to the grill. "Sarah Walker," she told him. "For the sake of argument, Chuck Bartowski, what apartment complex do you live in?"

"Royal Pines," he told her proudly.

She stood up, walked behind him, gently placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look at her. She pushed her chin in the direction of the apartment across the road. "Royal Pines is over there, and if you'll notice, we have similar grills."

Chuck peered across the road. "I really can't see, it's dark."

"Why are you so drunk?" Sarah asked.

"Well, today is…wait," he said, glancing at his wrist. "Oh, I don't wear a watch." She chuckled. "So yesterday…is it past midnight?"

"Nearly three AM," she told him.

"I think that's past midnight, sober Chuck would know."

"It is," she assured him.

"Well, yesterday was my birthday, and my sister gave me a big party at her apartment. A few months ago, my girlfriend broke up with me." Sarah was silent, waiting for him to continue. "Everyone there was a couple, you know?" She did know. "And…it just reminded me that I was alone. So, I got sad, and I drank. And the more I drank the sadder I got, until I wanted a burger, but Ellie, that's my sister, she said I probably shouldn't because the grease and the alcohol…." He trailed off. "Well, you know."

"I have an idea," Sarah agreed.

"So, my brother-in-law, her then boyfriend in the earlier story about things hanging in the bathroom, he drove me home," Chuck continued. "I went to bed, but woke up deciding it was my birthday, and I wanted a hamburger, so I went to the store." Chuck pointed to the store that was diagonal to both of their apartment complexes. "And I got stuff for burgers."

"I see," Sarah said. "I think mine is past medium well."

"Oh, shit," Chuck said, pulling the burger off the grill. Sarah grabbed the pack of paper plates he had bought, opened them, and grabbed three, to help soak the grease. She held it out, and he put it on there. "Well, I blew it."

"You know what, it's your birthday, I think we should let it slide," Sarah told him.

"Nah, yesterday was," Chuck said, despondent. "All I wanted was someone to have a burger with."

Sarah slowly turned Chuck to her. "Hey, Chuck, wanna have a burger with me?" Chuck smiled.

}o{

A few days later, Sarah found herself home from work, hungry, and wondering what a certain tall, curly-headed man, who made a pretty damn good burger to be drunk at three AM, was doing. She walked over to the sliding glass door, and saw someone across the way, grilling. She opened the door and stepped outside.

He waved his arm in the air to get her attention, and then held up a sign. She couldn't read it, but pulled out her phone, put it on photo mode, and zoomed in.

WANNA HAVE A BURGER WITH ME?

She reached behind her, slid the door shut, hopped the patio railing, and walked over to his apartment.