Critical Hellfire

By Steampunk . Chuckster

Summary: Chuck and Morgan are co-hosts of a locally popular streaming channel in which they discuss all things metal while playing video games. Their lives are uprooted when their demo guy hands them THE demo of the ages—a band called Critical Hellfire, fronted by singer and bassist Sarah Walker. AU Charah.

A/N: Thanks, folks!

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK or any of its characters. I don't own any of the songs mentioned in this chapter, this fic, or anywhere else for that matter. I am making absolutely zero dollars writing and posting this.

Chuck watched as Sarah turned her hand so that her thumb was pointed at the ceiling. Dylan played another note, she pumped her fist up a few times, and he turned the dial. He went again and it was a little louder.

"There."

"Good?"

"Yeah." She turned to Awesome who sat at the editing desk with Chuck's streaming headphones on his ears. "Sound check. How's it sounding to you over there?"

"Awesome," he said, grinning with his glistening white teeth showing.

Sarah giggled and turned back to the band, and Chuck found himself enthralled. He'd seen her perform during Critical Hellfire gigs, he'd watched them rehearse at her warehouse, but this was a different side of her. She'd slipped into a full-blown practitioner mode. She was all business and in spite of the band, including her, insisting it was fully egalitarian with no one as the leader, he could see Sarah was the de facto leader of Critical Hellfire. She was dictating the sound check, even as they all pitched in to figure out where the amps needed to go, where each member needed to stand, how much room they each needed.

Chuck quietly moved in as Sarah played a radical little bass solo, the notes filling his basement like decadent melted caramel or something, sending a fantastic shiver down his spine. She looked up as he approached and stopped, slapping her hand against the strings.

"Hi," she drawled melodically, smiling, her blue eyes with an extra edge to the sparkle. She was feeling this. He could tell. And she was letting him see that she was feeling it. He felt like someone had stuck his finger in a light socket and flipped a switch.

He grinned back at her, looking down at the amp. "Everything sounds awesome. Is this your final lineup? You here, Zondra flanking to your right, Dylan to your left, and Mac pushed back a little?"

"We think this is it, yeah."

"I like it. Um, I was wondering if it's okay for me to break out the cameras now just so we can see how it all looks?" He addressed the whole band and they glanced at one another with shrugs. "I know you don't have the set list done just yet, but…think we can do a rehearsal of sorts with the cams? Maybe just one song?"

"Cameras? Plural?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you just doing the webcam like you usually do?"

Chuck couldn't help the excited snicker. "Oh. Oh, Sarah. A webcam? An old-ass webcam for Critical Hellfire's MetalMania debut? That piece of crap for Diane Beckman's expert eyes?"

She shrugged one shoulder cutely. "I dunno. I think the webcam's kind'a cute."

"Well, it works for me an' Morgan 'cause we're kind'a cute," he flirted back with a one shoulder shrug just like hers.

"Yeah we aaaare!" Morgan exclaimed from the corner where he was already grabbing the camera cases and setting them down on the large table they were using for prep.

Everyone chuckled and Chuck reached out to gently lay his hand on Sarah's shoulder as he moved past her. "Watch this, you're gonna love it."

Chuck grabbed one of the cases and wordlessly gestured for Morgan to follow with the other. Instead of the corner table, they walked the cameras to the space in front of the performance area they'd set up over the last two days, setting them on the floor and popping them open.

"Well God damn," Dylan gasped, coming around to look down. "This is expensive shit. What did you guys go out and do?"

Chuck ignored that. He really didn't need them to know how much he and Morgan sank into this—him especially, since Morgan had already depleted much of his own two-hundred-thousand dollar advance check Cole Bastard had doled out to them.

God, that was only a couple weeks ago, and it felt like a year at this point. So much had happened.

"…Chuck?" Morgan nudged him.

Shaking himself, he reached in to tug the camera out that would be on a stand. "So this one will be the full band shot. In all Critical Hellfire's glory." Morgan helped him put the base together quickly, and they both worked to stick it on top, fastening it in place. Mac came over to assist as well, stars literally in his eyes as he did.

"Boys, this is, like…real shit right here."

"Yeah," Chuck said with a shrug. "This is important." He decided to make it look less intense then, what with the way they were exchanging wide-eyed looks. "We rented 'em, anyway…"

"Well, yeah, this one, but not the—Yep. They're rented," Morgan rushed out as Chuck gave him a shut up look. Subtle. Veeeeery subtle.

Sarah flashed Chuck an amused glance and set her bass on its stand, wandering closer. "Dear God, this thing is major. It looks like the kind of stuff that music video set had." He plugged in one of the wires.

"It's digital," he said, sending her a cheeky grin that made her laugh.

"You are somethin' else, Bartowski," she hummed, squeezing his shoulder.

"If I had a nickel for every time—Ah! Ow!" She gave him a teasing, gentle smack to his noggin, laughing. He chuckled back at her, and then he and Sarah noticed at the same time that everyone was sort of quietly staring at them expectantly. He cleared his throat, blushing, and powered on the camera. "So we're going to record a bit of a rehearsal with just this one for now. Morgs, if you wanna be our steady cam man."

"That the right vocab? Like, is that actually steady cam, technically?" Mac asked with a wince.

"It's a camera and it's steady," Chuck explained. "I dunno the vocab. Who am I, Marty Scorsese?" Mac laughed and shrugged. Then he tugged a bit on the base that was helpfully on wheels. He had to pull pretty hard to shift it. "Critical Hellfire, take your positions, por favor."

They all moved to where they decided they'd be on the makeshift stage and he looked through the view, squinting his other eye shut.

"Damn, this is sexy."

"Chuck, remember this is about the whole band. You can't just keep the shot zoomed in on your girlfriend," Morgan groused jokingly.

He pulled back and gave his best friend a flat look. "I'll kill you."

The band, Ellie, and Awesome were all laughing, and in spite of the blush on her face, Sarah was smirking as well. She did give him a wink that lit a fire in him, however, which was both the best thing ever and also a little cruel…all at the same time.

But then he went back to look through the viewer, shifting the base so that they were centered. "Hmmmm… Dylan, maybe if you scooch a bit to the left?"

"My left or yours?"

"Yours. Put more space between you and Sarah. Mac gets blocked otherwise."

"Spotlight stealer!" Mac yelled, pointing at Dylan with one of his sticks.

Dylan scooched and Chuck stared through the viewer until… "Ah! There! Perfect! Everyone is perfectly visible. And that-that's not to say you guys have to stand in one place, obviously…"

"You mean you aren't gonna slap 'markers' on top of rocks and yell at us if we wander off of 'em?" Zondra asked, rolling her eyes.

"No. Because that's dumb."

"This is already way better than that music video shoot," she added, smiling.

"Okay, take one? Morgan, you wanna get some practice in?" He nodded and walked over. Chuck shifted out of the way. "So this is going to record and send it over to the station where Captain Awesome is…stationed." He stopped, made a face, shook himself and continued. Somebody snorted and he had a sneaking suspicion it was his sister. "I'm going to have the handheld with me and our guy is going to toggle between me and Morgan. We're going to test it out, see how the recording looks. And I apologize ahead of time," he said, kneeling down to get the other camera out of its case, "if it looks like shit. I've never used one of these before. Hehe."

"That's what rehearsal's all about, right?" Mac did a drumroll, slapped his stick against his snare, let it bounce up into the air and flip, and caught it again, slamming it into a cymbal.

"That's so cool," Ellie breathed.

"You like that? I'll teach you how later."

"Oh my God, yes. Please."

"It's a deal." He winked.

Sarah took control then as Chuck gave her a significant look, still getting his own camera ready. It was much smaller than the camera Morgan was operating, and it was wireless, which meant he could play with it a little more. Awesome would just have to time his cuts well enough that Chuck could get out of Morgan's frame enough not to be some random idiot kneeling with a camera in Sarah's face in the footage.

"Okay, anyone got a song idea?"

"Stairway to Heaven," Dylan joked.

"I will stab you with my drumstick, bro," Mac threatened, making his best friend snicker.

"We still don't even have our set list for tonight," Zondra complained. "We need to get our heads around this shit."

Dylan sucked air through his teeth. "Well, I don't think we should hit 'em with it tonight because it isn't perfected, but remember when we did 'If You Want Blood' and got that pit started at Bob's Yr Uncle Bar & Grille? People were tryin' to nom on their buffalo burgers with other people getting dropped on their heads. That shit was amazing."

The rest of the band all hummed in reminiscing.

"They moshed in Bob's Yr Uncle?" Chuck asked, laughing. "That's the best thing I've ever heard. Where's there even room to—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "No, you know what? I like the imagery in my head as it is, just like this. I'm gonna keep that." People tumbling over other people's heads, barbecue sauce everywhere, screaming…yelling…metal.

Epic.

"Okay, I'm good with 'If You Want Blood'," Sarah said, smiling at Chuck for a moment before she turned back to her band in business mode once more. "Shall we?"

Dylan held up his hand with his guitar pick, and when it came down, he started the riffs, Mac slamming his sticks down.

Chuck exchanged a look with Awesome, got an okay sign, and as the song slipped into full thrust, he moved in to capture Mac jamming on his drum set. As the song continued, he moved between focusing on each member of the band, to dashing out of Morgan's shot, trying to keep his camera as steady as possible even if it wasn't the 'steady cam'.

Shit, he had no idea what he was doing, but it didn't matter when Zondra broke into Angus Young's solo on her guitar, because Chuck got an incredible zoom in on her hands. And as he zoomed out again, she stuck her tongue out.

Even Ellie was back by her boyfriend, peering at the screen over his shoulder, her brow furrowed, banging her head to the song, mouthing along to the words, pointing to the screen here and there, earning a slightly annoyed look from Awesome.

As the song finished, Chuck let out a, "Owwww oww owwwwww!" He stopped recording, putting down the camera carefully. "Y'all that was magnificent. You sure you don't wanna do that one tonight?"

"We can't. We slipped up multiple times just doing it there," Dylan said, cutting his hand through the air.

"Yeah. You didn't hear my voice crack when I did that scream?" Sarah asked, giving him a deeply confused look.

Chuck blinked. "Uhhh…yeah. I did." He didn't.

They all moved around to crowd Awesome then, watching the playback. For the most part, they'd all gotten the timing right, but a few times, Chuck was stupidly crouched in the corner with his tongue stuck out, concentrating, not getting out of the frame in time. Sarah giggled by his ear and ruffled his hair.

All in all, he was actually pretty impressed with the finished project. But… "Folks, we have a lot of work to do and…" He checked his watch. "Eight hours before showtime."

Mac was still in awe. "I can't believe how professional this all looks. Can we just keep the cameras and play with 'em all the time? Oh my God…"

They walked out from behind Awesome then.

Ellie raised her hand. "I'll get food. Everyone good with pizza being delivered? Wings? Breadsticks?"

Getting the consensus, she and Awesome went up to play hosts, and the band got back into their places, talking out their songs, feeling out which ones would be best for the performance. And Chuck and Morgan crouched at the cameras, talking strategy for live streaming.

}o{

"We're ready though, right?"

Critical Hellfire sat two up front, two in the back, the van's motor still running as it sat parked in the driveway that led up to the large doors of Sarah's warehouse. They all just…sat there. In the quiet. Taking it all in.

Until Mac piped up from behind the wheel.

He looked a little shellshocked as Sarah glanced up at the rearview mirror, seeing his wide eyes framed in the long rectangular mirror as he sat in the driver's seat directly in front of her.

"C'mon," she said jauntily. "Of course we are. We always are. Chuck and Morgan would never have taken a risk like this if they weren't confident in us being able to bring it home."

Zondra snapped her fingers and pointed back at the bassist from the front seat. "That, right there. What Sarah said. Exactly. These guys dropped a shit ton of dough, even though they won't admit it, and we'll never really know how much."

Sarah had been thinking about that a lot, too. It had to have been thousands upon thousands of dollar—how much she wouldn't know unless she did extensive research. But even if Chuck was just minimizing the double camera situation's expenses by saying the cameras were rented (though they might not be), she was positive there was a hell of a lot of that two-hundred-thousand dollar check Barker had given each of them that was gone after this.

"We'll pay 'em back someday…" Dylan said with a nod.

"When we have like sixteen platinum records," Mac growled, giving Dylan a crooked smile over his shoulder.

"Eeeeyyyyyy!" Dylan reached forward and high-fived his friend.

"All I know is I'm thanking any god that moves that our girl Sarah back there jumped that fine young man's lanky bones the way she did…" Sarah gasped at Mac and quickly reached up to smack his shoulder hard before he could pull away. He didn't even hesitate for a moment, continuing. "What?! You think he would've done any of this for Critical Hellfire if you didn't sweep him off his feet?"

"Yes," Sarah said immediately. "He would have." They all sat quietly for a few long moments, and maybe the gravity of what happened with their band and Cole Barker, his apparent one-track mind about why he tossed scraps at the band, occurred to all of them, but Mac especially, since he looked a little contrite all of a sudden. She didn't want to walk away from her bandmates on this note, though, so she added, "But I like to think I'm a pretty good bonus."

"OOOHHHHH!" Dylan yelled, and Mac did a funny little seat dance, stomping his feet, his tongue between his teeth as he laughed.

Zondra cackled and clapped.

"Get some rest, guys, okay? This is it. An actual opportunity. Yeah?"

They hooted, hollered, pumped their fists, and she left them in the van on that note instead.

Once she got into her loft, she let out a long breath. And then she dropped her bags by the door and staggered through the living area, pushing into her bedroom, stripping down, and immediately climbing into the shower.

As the water beat down over her head, she covered her face and let her emotions rock through her. Only this time, when she lifted her head and tilted it back, she was grinning like mad. That rehearsal had gone better than anything. They'd struggled to come up with a set list, but finally pinned it down. A powerful starter that showcased all of their individual talents and combined their collective strengths, then something fun as hell, and finally something a little off-the-beaten-path.

They'd played all three songs often enough at gigs that they had them down to a damn science, could perform the set in their sleep. And that left room for them to have fun, be playful, and show their ability to be more than just musicians, but entertainers as well.

They were ready, and she was absolutely certain of it.

And the more they rehearsed, the more she saw the sort of product those new cameras and the editing set-up Devon sat behind, the better they all got at every bit of it as they did it over and over and over again in the past few hours, the more Sarah Walker felt a particular confidence shining bright in every bit of her.

She just felt good.

The gravity of this morning was catching up to her too as she scrubbed at the stupid glitter on her body, getting the remnants of being out in the desert wind off of her skin. She had walked away from a contract, away from a big time producer. She stuck to her principles. And maybe—just maybe—that would have given Critical Hellfire some promotion they sorely needed.

But she and Mac, Zondra, and Dylan had all been on the same page. At what cost would that tiny bit of promotion come?

She couldn't believe the way Chuck Bartowski had rolled up in his Honda, somehow finding them at Skull Rock. In the vastness, the seeming desolation of Joshua Tree National Park, how had he found them? Unless he knew… She stored that away in her brain for later.

Because the man who got out of that car and marched up to speak to her, to the band, was not the same guy who'd stood in her loft a few mornings ago, talking through his ass about her getting gigs by playing on the lust of powerful men. The utter lack of self-esteem he'd had in that moment, the way his insecurities poured out of him, making him attack her unfairly, was so different from the man who'd eluded capture by scampering up onto a rock in slippery sneakers. He'd made promises to producers he obviously respected a great deal, promises that relied on his gambit to find Critical Hellfire's music video shoot, interrupt it, and convince them to come home with him.

Some might say it was more desperation than confidence. But she'd seen something in his face, in his eyes especially, as he met her gaze. The passion in him as he talked about the way this "opportunity" Cole shoved at them would be a dead end, the way he understood what was important to them as a band, but also as human beings with consciences, as people who loved music and metal. It was confidence. Not desperation.

There might've still been a little desperation, though…

But mostly confidence.

Confidence she hadn't seen a bit of when he said that shit to hurt her.

He'd been so different.

And still, it was him. It was the nerdy guy who made her laugh as they spent hours sitting on the roof of her home after Critical Hellfire finished their set. The way he'd been so breathless, but so sure, so unbelievably crazy and stupid, as he told her he loved her in front of all of those fucking people.

It was Chuck Bartowski at his most superhero-ness. Even as she was angry, unsure, shocked by his appearance, by the things he was saying, she was filled with him. So full that she got him behind that shack off to the side of the road and looked him in his eye and said "I love you" back.

She'd said those three words before and it wasn't that big of a deal. But this one felt like it dropped on her head like an anvil.

It felt heavy.

Weighty.

And his response, and everything that had followed since, made it even weightier.

Maybe because she actually did love him, and maybe she hadn't loved before him. Not really. Maybe she actually meant it this time in a way she hadn't when she said it before him.

Sarah hung her loofa back up on its hook and leaned forward, bracing her palms against the tile wall of her shower, taking a deep breath, the grin still on her face.

No matter what happened tonight, she knew she could rely on her band. She could rely on her own talents, and she could rely on theirs. And she was choosing to rely on Chuck and Morgan, too. And on the whole crew they'd pulled in to help them do this for Critical Hellfire.

Whether Diane Beckman saw their performance or not, whether she was captured by it or not, whether she chose to act on it or not, as long as they all did their part on this end—which they already had, for her money—nothing else would matter.

She had her band, she had this opportunity, and she had her man, too. In spite of the fight they'd had, in spite of both of them misstepping in different ways, with different levels of gravity attached to each misstep, they were here now. In a good spot. A very good spot. She trusted him, and he trusted her. He'd seriously gone all out for tonight to happen.

Sarah was a little concerned about the price tag. Okay, a lot concerned. But he was also a grown man who made his own decisions about what to do with his money.

…And still, she wanted to know how much he'd spent to make that new and improved basement a reality.

Sarah finally got out of the shower, reveling in how good it felt to be in fresh, clean clothes, the dirt and glitter scrubbed off, her hair completely without product, her face without a single smudge of makeup.

She dried her hair, still smiling at herself in the mirror. She'd never felt so infused with bliss. Apparently this was what it felt like to feel blissful. Like her heart was racing and calm all at the same time, her fingers tingling with anticipation, and yet, she felt this deep sense of relaxation. She could sleep for a couple of hours at this point.

Which would be fine. She had the time. They weren't regrouping at Chuck's basement until nine and still had almost five hours to nap, eat…rest. She'd have to set an alarm, though. She really could sleep all the way through it if she let herself. As much as today had given her a shot of energy, the last few days had taken their toll on her—emotionally, mentally, physically.

She stopped the hairdryer, her hair mostly dry, and she brushed at her long, blond locks, staring at it in the mirror, trying to figure out how she would style it later…when she heard a knock at her door.

Frowning, she set down her hairbrush and left her bathroom behind, padding through her loft to the door. She peeked through the curtain next to her front door subtly and her heart began to slam against her ribcage as she saw it was him.

He hadn't done his usual knock.

Part of her had feared Cole might follow, show up at her loft, try to beg, plead, or maybe threaten her with a lawsuit, deliver a subpoena or some shit. Attack her, at worst. She had no idea if he was that sort of man.

But she pushed it all out of her mind as she unlocked the door and did her best to open it as casually as she could muster. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe and smiled slowly at him, taking him in, all six feet and four inches.

He'd changed his clothes as well, maybe even put a comb through his curls before coming to see her, the sweetheart.

And she hadn't realized it until this moment, but she'd wanted this so badly. A moment with him, alone. Actually alone and not twenty feet from her band, behind a dilapidated wood shack in the desert. It had been days.

She pursed her lips, arching one eyebrow. "Did you follow me home, Chuck?"

He wrinkled his nose, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets. He was cutely sheepish as he drawled, "Soooorta?" He smiled. "I gave you an hour or so to unwind, decompress, be alone for a bit. Uh, then I started getting a little antsy and I couldn't wait any longer and I jumped in my car and zoomed over." He furrowed his brow, looking unsure. "…I hope that's okay?"

Sarah Walker let out a rough breath.

This man had already caused so much trouble and she was more than willing to let him cause even more. He was a gift, in spite of his flaws.

She reached out with both hands, grabbing him by the lapels of his flannel he was wearing, and she tugged him inside, not caring that the door swung shut a little harder than she meant for it to what with the weirdly blustery weather that picked up while she was in the shower. She kept pulling him until his front crashed into hers and she went up onto her tiptoes, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

Sarah hugged Chuck tight, burying her face in his neck, relief spilling through her. He immediately rounded her midsection and tugged her closer, pressing his lips to her hair.

And after the events of the day, after the tension of the past few days, finding out everything he'd done for Critical Hellfire without being sure they wouldn't throw it back in his face, after how good that rehearsal had felt, the enjoyment she got out of him hovering around with his camera, grinning like this was the most fun he'd ever had, and the sizzling flirtation she hadn't been able to resist engaging in… Sarah felt a need mount in her so fast it was verging on overwhelming.

She pulled her face back just slightly, turning her head, their noses brushing. And when their eyes met, the rubber band snapped. Their lips crashed together.

He wanted everything she wanted. She felt it in the way his fingers curled against the thin cotton camisole she wore, the soft whimper he let out into her mouth.

Days.

It had been days, damn it.

They stood there grappling at once another, kissing as if they were standing beside a bomb that was counting down in the single digits.

And when they broke for air for a moment, she sucked in a gasping, shaky breath, looking into his eyes as he panted, their hips pressed tight together. He used his grip on her waist to yank her front even tighter into his and she gasped again, feeling him through his jeans.

"Sarah, I—"

"Do you really want to talk right now?" she interrupted, panting herself now.

He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed adorably, and then he shook his head with a, "Nope", and dove in to kiss her even harder.

She got his flannel off, dropping it to the floor, his shirt, her fingers running along the grooves of his chest, playing with the hair over his pecks as she kept her lips melded with his. And then when she dropped her fingers to the button of his jeans, popping it open, sliding the zipper down, he broke the kiss.

"Bed. Please. Now."

The way he'd whimpered that, letting her hear his desperation, sent a shockwave through her, settling in her core. Roosting there, intense and overwhelming.

She wasn't sure he was ready. But she grabbed him and hurriedly pulled him into her bedroom anyway.

}o{

Chuck Bartowski was still drowning in the sensations, the fire that ripped through the spot behind his belly button, the tingles everywhere else, her hot breath against his temple, his curls tangled around her fingers. He was so deeply drowning that it took him a bit to come to and realize that he was lying directly on top of her, his full weight smashing her into the mattress.

He shifted his hips and she let out a quiet whine, but before he could get all the way off of her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held fast, grabbing his shoulders.

"Mmm don't go."

Chuck blushed. "It might be, um, a few minutes…before I can, um, be…erm, what I mean is, I-I'm…I sort of, um, finished, so I pulled—"

"I just meant don't get up," she said, amusement dancing lightly in her tone and in her blue eyes as she looked up at him.

He blinked. And then he groaned, diving down to press his face against the crook of her neck and shoulder, mortified as she cracked up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tighter to her with her arms and legs both.

"Weirdly enough, I've, uh, done this before so I'm pretty aware of the way the male anatomy works, my guy."

He groaned again. "Don't laugh at me, you broke my brain and I was in the moment, okay? I didn't know what you meant." He pressed a kiss to her neck and earned a hum. "Uh, and also, don't be so cocky."

"What, that I've done this before? I have. It's just a fact, I'm not being cocky."

"Mmmhm, all the notches on Sarah Walker's bedpost. I know how the male anatomy works I've just done this sooooo many times," he added in a high-pitched voice.

She cracked up and smacked his shoulder, pushing at his chest so that he had to prop himself on his elbows and look down at her. "I don't sound like that and I did not say anything even remotely close to that. Notches on my bedpost, ew Chuck." She wrinkled her nose, still grinning, giving him a bit of a side-eye. "Anyway, don't feel too bad about the faux pas. Men have said way more embarrassing shit to me in bed."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Not that I'm particularly interested in hearing details about the time you've spent in bed with other men…" She gave him a warning look. "But if you could expand on at least one of those times a guy said worse, it might help ease the deep well of mortification I've got in my chest right now."

Sarah giggled around a pout and nudged him with her hips. "Awww. Don't be so embarrassed. It was adorable." She winced when he sent her a flat look. "And that was patronizing. Sorry." He kissed her jaw in forgiveness and she melted, playing with his hair. "I went on a couple dates with this guy who booked talent for this LA theatre company. Anyway, I was at his place at the end of a date and, uh, well, you know." Chuck made a disgusted, miserable face to try to make her laugh and it worked. She did laugh, thankfully seeming to be in on the joke and not taking him seriously. "After, I was getting dressed again and I sat on the edge of the bed, getting my boots back on and out of nowhere, he goes, 'If you had to pick… me or your band, what you would you pick?'"

Chuck's jaw fell open. What in the hell? Was the guy a total moron?!

"I know," she giggled. "I just kind of sat there with my back to him for a moment. Because it was out of left field, you know? Who asks a question like that after sex?"

"Um, better question." He lifted his pointer finger in a scholarly fashion. "Who asks a question like that ever?" She nodded once, giving him the point. "But also, what a total dummy. A person just has to meet you once to know… One, what the answer to that question would be, and two, don't fucking ask that question."

"I said I'd pick him," she joked.

"Oh, I'm sure," he chuckled. "Did you even give him an answer? I feel like you got up, gave him a droll look, grabbed your shit, and walked out of there. Not even saying a word."

Sarah gave him an appraising look. "Wow. You're pretty sharp. That's exactly what I did. Although the look was less droll and more 'You should know better'. But I'm impressed you have me pegged so well."

He smiled down at her and shrugged. "I like to think I know you as well as someone could know you at this stage." He wrinkled his nose. "But honestly, that's the only response a question that stupid deserves."

"Thank you," she said in a clip. "I thought so."

"Thanks for telling me that. I actually do feel a lot better now."

"You're welcome, any time. I've got a few of 'em." And then her hand was at his backside and she gave him a quick pinch, making him yelp and jump.

He gasped. "A'squeeze me?"

"I did, actually, yes."

He laughed. "Wow. Okay, I really set myself up there."

She laughed with him, pushing her hand through his hair from his forehead all the way to the back of his head. "God damn, I think I really, really love makeup sex. Is that dysfunctional? I just really love it. There was an extra somethin'-somethin'."

Chuck tried not to gape, instead attempting to go along with her bawdiness as if it didn't shock him a little. "I'll make a note of that."

She gave him a wily look then. "Don't you go making a habit of pissing me off, though. Just 'cause I say I love makeup sex, doesn't mean I want to make this fight bullshit a frequent occurrence."

He shook his head. "Nope. I did not like it one bit and I'd prefer we avoid fighting as much as possible, please." She nodded, smiling softly at him. Then she got a regretful look on her face, leaning up and craning her neck a bit to look at the clock on her bedside table. Relief went through her gorgeous features as she plopped back onto the pillow. "What?" he asked, curious.

"I thought it would be later than this, considering how long that felt."

"Felt not nearly long enough to me," he teased, smoldering and giving her an eyebrow dance.

She pursed her lips. "Well, it does sort of depend on you, so that was a little bit of a self-own. Though I appreciate the sentiment a whole lot."

Chuck cracked up. "Oh shit, that was a self-own. Damn it, Chuck." He eyed her. "…Look at you, all cheeky for catching that, and pointing it out. Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," she chirped, giving him a toothy grin he found himself loving somewhat intensely. In fact, he was discovering in this moment that he loved everything about her intensely. He loved her intensely.

"What time is it anyway?" he asked, a bit breathless at the revelations happening inside of his own head.

"We still have some hours yet before we reconvene at your place. It's only five-thirtyish."

"Good. We need to eat dinner, you need your strength."

"Mmmm, yeah I do," she drawled, sticking her tongue out between her teeth as she nudged him with a mischievous thrust of her hips.

"I meant for this big giant performance the Diane Beckman will be watching but sure, for that, too."

She pouted. "We have plenty of time for all that. I'll order in. We can eat right here." She patted the mattress by her hip. "But not right now." She dotted kisses along his jaw. "Right now I wanna stay here."

"Me, too." He sighed, loving the sensation of her lips against his skin. "The Buy More slash Nerd Herd crew aren't showing up 'til closer to ten. Our makeshift little rowdy crowd. I put off those fellas coming for as long as I possibly could," he said, clenching his jaw and widening his eyes in a wince.

"That's what she said," she muttered against his neck.

He cracked up again and she pulled back, preening. "Jesus Christ, you are in A MOOD."

"Yep!"

"I like it."

She arched her eyebrows. "Don't care if you like it or not."

His jaw dropped open and he let out a surprised, breathy laugh. What was wrong with him that out of all of the things she could possibly do to turn him on, this was what did it? "That was hot."

Sarah seemed surprised, and amusement exploded onto her features. She laughed and shook her head in awe at him. "You really are so extremely different from every single dude I've ever dated. It's astonishing."

"What, 'cause I thought that was hot?"

"Yeah. A girl insisting on autonomy…hot? Look at you go, Chuck Bartowski."

"That is hot, which is why I think it's hot. It's objectively hot. I'm not gonna go against an objective fact. I took science classes and I know to never dispute scientific fact."

She let out a nasally giggle. "Oh, it's science now? That women practicing autonomy are hot?"

"Yes," he said emphatically.

"And how much schooling did you get?"

"Hey!" He laughed, nudging her, making her cackle. "I don't need any schooling at all to know you're being cheeky."

She gave him a toothy grin again, leaning up to press her lips to his, humming, holding onto him in a way that made him feel… important? Special? He didn't know. This all felt so good and he needed to do the thing Ellie always advised him to do which was to stop overthinking things and let himself exist in the moment.

He wanted to exist in this moment forever.

When she broke the kiss again, lying her head back on her pillow, she gave him a long look, and her finger shifted to poke him right in the center of his chin. "Thank you."

"For thinking you're hot?" he asked. "Oh, it's my pleasure."

She laughed, shaking her head. "No, you goof. Not that. Although, I do appreciate that." She idly dragged the tip of her fingernail from his chin down his jawline, not meeting his gaze, looking shy all of a sudden. "I mean, for giving a shit about what happens to us. Critical Hellfire. Recognizing who we are, what's important to us, and—God, just bending over backwards to try to make it happen for us. Caring enough about us and what we can do to hand us something that might actually…work, get us somewhere. Besides just gigs around town that pay shit or hand out fuggin' Starbucks gift cards." She snorted.

But then she sobered up and looked him right in the eye. "Thank you for caring about me. The band is extremely important to me and you know that and maybe that's part of the whole caring about me thing, but thank you for giving a fuck about me. For caring about what happens to me, about what's important to me, my happiness. But really just…for caring about me. For actually caring about me."

Chuck nodded, smiling softly at her. But then he frowned, the reality of the past few days striking him in the chest painfully. "I do care about you. More than anything else. I love you. And still I…I hurt you," he reminded her quietly. As if she needed the reminder. Ugh, he felt terrible. Still. He probably always would when he thought back to what he'd said, and it was probably right that he felt bad about it forever. He should never feel good about it, that was for sure.

"Yeah. You did." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she glanced to the side. "So've a lot of people, but…" She paused and he waited, letting her gather her thoughts and figure out how to relay them. "I'm not excusing what you said—"

"You shouldn't. It was terrible. There is no excuse."

She gently cupped his cheek in her warm hand, stroking her thumb over his lips. He took her silent hint. He was interrupting, she wanted him not to be interrupting.

"Unlike the other people in my life who've hurt me, other people I've given second chances to who…maybe I shouldn't have. Because then it was…a third chance, a fourth, a fifth, and so on. 'Til I finally learned my lesson and cut away to protect myself." She rolled her eyes and bit her lip. Then she met his gaze again. "I know that isn't something I'm gonna have to worry about with you, Chuck. You aren't going to take this second chance for granted. I can tell that it means something to you, that I mean something to you. This…relationship means something to you, as new as it is. I'm in love with you, actually in love with you, not just saying words without meaning it. I love you." Oh shit, his chest was fit to explode but he held it in, holding his breath as well, watching her closely. "I trust you. You asked me out there in the desert to trust you and I did. I am."

Chuck swallowed hard, then lowered his chin to look at her through his eyelashes. "Still?"

"Yes. Definitely. Still," she said immediately. Adamantly.

A slow grin grew in stages over his face. "I'm not taking this second chance for granted, Sarah Walker. I prommmmfffffff." She cut him off, kissing him passionately. And one of the legs she still had around him shoved, her weight pushing him onto his back. She followed eagerly, lying on top of him, her hand wandering down his side to squeeze his hip wantonly.

When they broke for air, she pushed her weight down on that specifically sensitive part of his body, making him whimper. "What-What about dinner?"

"It can wait."

"Yeah, okay." He gulped. "I'm-I'm not really all that hungr—"

"Chuck."

"Shut up, yes, got it."

And he swallowed her giggles in a ravenous kiss of his own.

A/N: I know I do the shut up and kiss me thing at least 43274 times in all of my fics. I understand this about myself but I love it and I don't care if it's repetitive so I'm going to keep doing it.

Please review if this site lets you, hahaha!

-SC