A/N: I apologize for the delay. My head….it's a mess friends. I'm trying to write a Christmas fic, and….well. I will start publishing it after Thanksgiving but will it be done by Christmas….it's a mystery for everyone if I will…Anywhoossel. Let's finish this episode and get ready for the next (which I haven't finished writing yet) Flying the Not So Friendly Skies. But for now, Part 3 of Non Bis In Idom

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

She opened her eyes, and saw him lying there in his hospital bed, staring out the window. "You okay?" she asked softly.

"Oh, yeah," Chuck said, nodding. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Sarah asked.

"About how the reason Michael Caine and Tim Curry are so good in their respective Muppet movies is that Michael Caine treats the Muppets as fellow actors, and Tim Curry treats himself as a fellow Muppet," Chuck told her.

She blinked. "Did they give you some more pain medicine?" Sarah asked, making Chuck laugh and then reach for his wound. "Don't do that."

"Don't be funny," Chuck responded.

"I didn't think I was," Sarah told him.

"I was thinking how things have changed between us quickly, and yet…" He trailed off.

"And yet they really haven't, have they. Except for the sex of course," Sarah said.

"I hope it has been satisfactory," Chuck began. "Uh, you do know it's gonna be a bit, right?"

"It's fine, baby," Sarah told him. "You just lay there and look pretty, and I'll take care of things." Chuck's eyes went wide, and she burst out laughing. He began to laugh, but grabbed his side again. "You know, we don't have to get married right away."

"Yeah, because getting married would change so much," Chuck deadpanned.

"I mean we do live together, work together, and you-"

"Morgan!" Chuck blurted out. "Has anyone told Morgan?"

Sarah started to reply when the door whipped open. "CHUCK!" Morgan cried out.

"No," Chuck told her. "The answer is no, no one told Morgan."

}o{

"Wanna get out of here?" Devon asked later that day, leaning on the handles of a wheelchair.

"Yes," Chuck said. "You owe me by the way." Devon raised an eyebrow. "Morgan wanted to kiss you, for me not requiring a colostomy bag." Devon chuckled. "Full-tongue." Devon burst out laughing.

"Not gonna lie, when this started, I was concerned," Devon admitted. "Small tear. We've been monitoring your temp, and there doesn't seem to be any fever, so that means no fecal matter is causing an infection." Chuck grimaced, making Devon shrug. "Don't know what you want me to tell you, my guy."

"I mean… you know your job is a little disgusting sometimes, right?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah," Devon admitted. "Hence why I specialize with the heart. Now, this is where I need you to listen to me." Chuck nodded. "Take all of your antibiotics. Your biggest worry right now is peritonitis. If you start running a fever… call me. Call Ellie. Immediately. Seriously, don't mess around with this."

"Okay," Chuck said.

"If the wounds starts weeping dark colored fluid that smells, call me. Call Ellie. If it's clear, on the other hand, that's okay; that's your body cleaning the wound." Chuck grimaced again. "You're going to need to take short walks, three or four times a day. No heavy lifting. Find a comfortable position to sleep in, with your head raised. If you need to cough, or move, gently press a pillow to the wound."

"Anything else?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, you may have some… dreams. Anxiety, that kind of thing. You and I both know that your girlfriend knows about those kind of things. Lean on her. You're not 'weak' for doing so."

"Got it," Chuck replied. "Thank you, Devon."

"Let's not make this a habit," Devon told him.

"I would prefer not to," Chuck replied.

}o{

"Going my way sexy?" Sarah asked as Devon pushed him up to her car.

"God, please," Chuck replied. He stood up out of the wheelchair, turned, and gently hugged Devon. "Thank you."

"Bro, you're my bro. What else would I have done?" Devon asked. He reached down to the wheelchair, grabbed the pillow, and offered it to him. "You're gonna need this."

"Right," Chuck said, nodding. He got into the car gingerly. "Ready to go home?" he asked Sarah.

"Yeah," she nodded. "See you soon," she called out to Devon. Devon waved, and they pulled away. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied.

"Don't make me sing Photograph, Chuck. You've been shot. I think that's punishment enough," Sarah deadpanned.

Chuck started to laugh, then groaned. He pushed the pillow to his stomach for protection, began to cough, and groaned louder.

"Again, you did this to yourself," Sarah told him.

Chuck sat there a second, dealing with the pain of laughing. "I've had a lot of time to think while in the hospital." Sarah didn't say anything, she just listened. "I was thinking that I was afraid since we've become a couple that you would think that more bad things had happened to us."

"I mean, physically, they have," Sarah said.

"But what I've come to realize is, our relationship has nothing to do with the chance of danger," Chuck continued. "Some could look at it, and say that's not true, but that's nothing more than recency bias."

"Careful, Mr. Bartowski," Sarah said. "You keep using those fancy words and you'll have me swooning. And that's not good, given your injury."

He chuckled, and pushed the pillow against his abdomen, wincing. "The danger has always been there," he continued, and Sarah nodded. "I just think we notice it more now."

Sarah was quiet for a moment. "I disagree with that," Sarah replied. "I think we acknowledge it more now."

"Ooooo," Chuck replied. "I knew you were a smarty."

"You mean like the candy?" Sarah asked. Chuck gave her a look. "Fine," she said, pouting. "But I think we both need to acknowledge that, while we did care about each other in the past, now that we have taken this to the next level the danger does seem to have risen. Which it really hasn't."

"Don't you mean taken it to about three levels higher?" Chuck asked.

"Wait 'til I marry your fine ass," Sarah told him. "I'll show you exactly how many levels higher I can take it."

"Jesus," Chuck breathed, and sat back in his seat, a little breathless.

}o{

Every time he got up and moved around, he felt eyes on him. "I always feel like, somebody's watching me," he sang, making her giggle. "I mean, you did say I have a fine ass… would you like a picture?"

"Don't make me beat you up while your recovering from a gunshot," she told him. She started to say more when a buzzer went off, and she got up. "And don't you dare touch that laundry."

"If you don't fold my boxers right, I will," he retorted. She gave him a look as she walked out of the room to get the laundry out of the dryer. He walked gingerly into the bedroom, lowering himself to the bed. She walked into the bedroom with the laundry basket, gave him a look, and dumped it right on top of him. "Jokes on you, it's warm and it feels good."

"I figured… that's why I did it," she told him, picking up one of her shirts, and walking over to the closet to hang it up. "Seriously," she said, coming out of the closet, and giving him a concerned look. "How you doing, Buddy?"

"I'm okay," he said. "I might have some scary dreams tonight, so if I'm holding you more, or tighter, than usual…" he trailed off.

"I'm fine with that," Sarah told him. She picked up a pair of pants, folded them, and headed toward the closet.

"Okay, what's with taking one piece of clothing and going back and forth to the closet?" Chuck asked. She turned and gave him an innocent look. "Sarah, we both know you believe in efficiency, and that is not efficient. You even told me this when you thought I was being inefficient putting up my clothes in my old apartment."

She stood there a second. "This way you stay in my sight the most," she said softly. "This way, we're not apart." She turned and went into the closet. When she came back, she was stunned to see him leaning against the wall by her closet door. "What are you doing?"

"Well, it's a walk-in closet, so I thought you'd put all your clothes in the laundry basket, and then I'd go into said closet while you put your clothes up," Chuck told her.

"You have the opportunity to bust my balls about how I'm acting, and you're not?" Sarah asked, in an almost challenging voice.

"Sarah, why would I do that?" Chuck asked softly. "I can't imagine the wreck I would be if the roles were reversed."

"Chuck, I'm not completely convinced if I were about to be buried, you wouldn't throw yourself on top of my casket," Sarah said, trying to make a joke.

"Are you sure I wouldn't be in the casket with you?" Chuck asked.

"Now who the necro… whatsit?" Sarah retorted.

"Necrowhatsit?" Chuck repeated.

"Listen, you know what I mean," she said, spinning from where she was gathering her clothes, and pointing at him. He was grinning, she was grinning, it was like the eight hundred pound gorilla was off their backs. "I'm not into all that role-playeeee stuff."

"Now we both know that's not true," Chuck countered.

"It's not the same," Sarah said, giving him a wink, walking up to him, and cupping his face with one hand.

"Yeah, you're more into LARPing," Chuck told her. She gave him a confused look. "Live Action Role Playing. Dressing for the occasion, having different props."

"Usually there's more undressing than dressing," Sarah pointed out.

"Noted," Chuck said, temporarily losing the ability to breathe.

"You okay there, Buddy?" Sarah asked.

"God, no," Chuck admitted. "But for the purposes of this conversation, I am justfine." Sarah giggled. She walked back over, grabbed the basket with her clothes, and took it back inside the closet.

"You gonna join me?" Sarah asked as she walked out, grabbed a chair, and walked back into the closet. Chuck entered and sat in the chair. She studied him for a moment, grinned, and moved toward him. He watched her straddle his lap and gently sit down. "We need to be serious for a moment."

"I don't think you know how serious I've been this whole time," Chuck told her.

"This thing of you marrying me," she began.

"Thing?" Chuck asked. Her finger on his lips silenced him. He nodded.

"If you marry me, I am going to be a very demanding wife," she said. "There will be required snuggling."

"Can we put that in a prenup?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, we will," Sarah told him. "Our prenup, only seen by us, will include that. Do you have anything you want to put in the prenup?"

"Just one thing," Chuck told her. "For you to be happy, and if it's not with me…" he trailed off and shrugged.

"Chuck, you make me happy," Sarah told him. "And if you weren't injured, I would go to great lengths to make sure you understand how happy I am."

"I'm quite happy right here," Chuck told her. She leaned in and gently kissed him. "So very happy," he said, as she pulled away.

"You scared me, Chuck."

"I'm sorry," he told her.

"Don't do it again," she said, her forehead against his.

"You know in this line of work-"

She shushed him. "Just let me have this ridiculousness," she said, taking a deep breath. "I know, neither of us wants to quit, and we shouldn't have to."

"But we can be smarter," Chuck pointed out. She gave him a look. "I can be." She tilted her head with a questioning look, unable to resist laughing at the incredulous look on his face. "Sarah."

"Baby, I'm playing with you," she said, and she gently kissed him. She then kissed him again, a little less gently.

"Doesn't feel like you're playing," Chuck mumbled the next time she pulled away.

"You know what, I think it's time you lay there and look pretty," she said, getting up and taking his hand.

"I'll do my best, ma'am," he said, following her back into the bedroom.

}o{

"How's it look?" Chuck asked. It was a few days later, and Chuck had slowly been upping his walking. Honestly, it felt pretty good. Sarah had taken time off work to help him, but after the first day, he had insisted she go back.

He had walked over two miles without any pain. It had been a short loop that he had walked multiple times. Devon or Ellie had stopped by each day to check his wounds, but today they were both at the hospital. Chuck had gotten done with his "pat down bath" as he called it – Carina had called it a whore's bath – and he was standing there in nothing but a towel.

"It actually looks really good," Sarah told him. "Is it hurting?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Because you keep flinching away from me," Sarah replied, looking up at him.

"I don't trust you with me just in a towel, if I'm honest," Chuck told her.

"Don't blame you," Sarah agreed. "What are we at now, day six since the shooting?"

"I think," Chuck told her. "Do you count the day I was shot, or does it begin the day after?" He looked back at her, and she was shaking her head, chuckling.

"So you're probably four days to a week from getting the stitches removed," she told him. "After that, you probably won't need the bandages anymore. Did they tell you that you couldn't shower?"

"Well, Awesome said I could, but do my best not to get it wet. And that meant I was going to have to be in some funky positions in the shower, which meant I'd probably need help. And that meant you'd have to help me…" He trailed off.

"I got it," she told him, laughing. "You know, I have to say, you have handled this whole gunshot wound thing a lot better than many agents I have worked with. You haven't milked it one bit. If anything, you've tried to do everything yourself and have as little help as possible."

Chuck didn't say anything, but he did duck his head a bit.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" Sarah asked.

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked, honestly confused.

She turned him so he was looking at her straight on, and not over his shoulder. "Chuck, I know how I am," she said, a knowing smirk on her face. "I pride myself in not needing anyone, and even as you and I became closer, there were some things… I just had to do myself."

"And are you saying this is something you would do?" Chuck asked her. "Trying to tough this out?"

"Is that what you're doing, trying to tough it out?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah, it hurt so damn bad," Chuck told her.

"Aww, baby," she said, pulling him gently into a hug. "I know. Now, how does walking really feel?"

"You know, it's okay," he said, pulling away. "I keep thinking it should hurt more, so I'm cautious, but… it's okay."

"Good," she said nodding. "And when you lay there and look pretty?"

"What?" Chuck asked. She yanked his towel away, making his eyes go wide.

"I mean, you did say I shouldn't be trusted around you with a towel," she said with a shrug.

}o{

"Why are you here?" Anna asked, as he walked into the office a few days later.

"My name is literally on the door," Chuck told her.

"Why are you here?" Sarah asked, having walked out to the doorway of her office, staring at him.

"Again, my name…" he trailed off, seeing the look on her face. "Okay, hear me out: I sit at home, I can sit here." She did not look happy. "And, we are running an agency." She still didn't look happy. "Sarah, would you have stayed at home this long?" She took a deep breath, turned, went back into her office, shutting the door.

"Well, if you weren't injured, you wouldn't be getting any tonight," Anna muttered. Chuck gave her a look. "Too far?"

"No, do you really believe that?" Chuck asked.

"She wouldn't," Anna said.

Chuck headed to his office. "She tells me to lay there and look pretty."

"Do you?" Anna asked. Chuck paused before closing his door. He grinned, and slowly shut it. "That boy's got some dog in him," she said, laughing.

}o{

"So, how realistic are these flight simulators?" Sarah asked a little while later, pulling Chuck out of his computer search.

"Well, I've never flown a plane, so I can't answer that," Chuck said. Sarah tilted her head. "I haven't," he insisted, thrusting out his hand, palm up. "Honestly, you'd know better than me." She nodded. "Wait, did you not do well."

She was silent a second, turned, and headed back to her office. He got up quickly, and paused, waiting to feel the pain. There was none. He nodded happily, and hurried after her.

"Did you crash the plane?" Chuck asked.

"I don't wish to talk about it," she said, trying to shut her door, but Chuck had shoved his foot between the door and the doorframe. "I will shut this door."

"No you won't, because if you break my foot, that won't let you do that thing you like to do," he said in a low tone. Not low enough, however, because Anna's eyes widened. Sarah shook her head, opened the door, and ushered him inside.

"Why did you say that?" Sarah asked.

"To get in here and see if you wrecked the plane," Chuck said, walking quickly to her computer. He stopped, because a certain blonde former spy had jumped on his back. "You could hurt me."

"You would be hurting yourself," Sarah said. "You know what you're trying to do and the consequences therein."

"You wrecked the shit out of that plane, didn't you?" Chuck asked.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you used therein, and you never use those words unless you're trying, desperately might I add, to stop someone or buy time and can think of nothing else," Chuck told her.

"There is something else I could do to stop you from reaching that computer," Sarah said in a low voice, giving no doubt about what she was talking about.

"Yes, but you're worried you'd hurt me, and that is why you needed a second to do the math in your head," Chuck replied.

"And what sum did I come up with?" Sarah asked.

"I see what you did there," Chuck said appreciatively. Sarah grinned and pressed her cheek against his. "You decided to risk it."

"The door isn't locked," Sarah replied.

"Anna knows better to come in here. In fact, I suspect she'll go to lunch and lock the front door," Chuck told her.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself, Mr. Bartowski," she said, carefully getting off his back so as not to hit the wound.

"Yeah, I am," he said, darting around the desk, taking her by surprise. "Damn," he said with a low whistle. "You wrecked the shit out of it."

"Blew up," Sarah admitted.

"So, you're rethinking that repossession case?" Chuck asked. She handed him a piece of paper she had printed out. He looked at it and let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of money."

"Does it feel hinky?" Sarah asked.

"The only thing that feels hinky about it is the pilot," Chuck told her. Her eyes went wide, and he began to grin. She began to stalk him. "You don't want to hurt your Chuck."

"You hurt yourself when you said what you said," she told him.

"ANNA!" Chuck yelled.

"I'M GOING TO LUNCH!" Anna yelled back. They heard her flee, the front door slam and the door lock.

"Is laying here and looking pretty gonna cut it this time?"

"Nope," Sarah said, as she sprang at him.

A/N:…who is writing this mess? Oh, me.

Next time:

"You trying to seduce me Miss Walker?" Chuck asked.

"Is it working?"

"It's always working, you know that," Chuck told her. She grinned at him.

"You know, I don't want to sound like I'm disappointed, but sometimes it doesn't take much to seduce you," Sarah pointed out.

"Oh, it takes a lot," Chuck told her. "It takes you."

"Chuck, I thought I said none of that talk?"

"Thinking of those slips of the tongue again aren't you?"

"Zip it, Bartowski," Sarah said, a grin on her face.

If it takes a while to get the next one out, I wanted to leave you with a little flirting. Hopefully I'll see you all soon.