A/N: I said before Christmas, and I meant it! Three hours to spare. Haha. As always, thanks to Zettel for pre-reading. Happy Holidays!

Because of Sarah's freshly bleeding wound, Chuck decided to drive.

It was close to midnight once the NSA cleaners sent by Casey finished. The medics took care of Jill, as per Casey's instructions. One of the medics offered to treat Sarah, but with the bleeding stopped, Chuck was content, telling them they were headed to see a doctor, and that Sarah would be fine.

Sarah called Ellie from the car and after a teary yet joyful conversation, Ellie agreed that she could tend to Sarah. She was eager to see them, to see them together.

The snow had finally stopped falling. Without the whistling of the wind, the snow cover muted every sound, enrobing their surroundings in total silence.

Beside Chuck, Sarah's voice was quiet, soft, but seemed amplified in contrast to the snowy silence. "What did Jill say to you?" Sarah asked. Jill had grabbed Chuck's hand at one point, pulled him close to her and spoke to him intensely. Sarah had observed their interaction but could not hear it.

"She thanked me. Thanked us. Once she was treated, Casey arranged a flight for her. Back to her parents in California," he said, feeling oddly sad as he said the words. The last time he thought things for Jill would change for the better, they had not.

"It's a good place to start," Sarah replied, touching his arm sympathetically, understanding his thought, his mood.

"She…uh…she also asked me if we were… ok…again," he stammered awkwardly. "She said she…wanted to know that I was happy."

Sarah rested her head on his shoulder, her hand on his thigh. He kissed the top of her head, a silent assurance that he was happy, at last.

Sarah sighed deeply, in a satisfaction that Chuck could feel too, and she fell asleep leaning on his shoulder as he drove. Her breathing was deep and even, trusting. She only began to wake when the car stopped in Ellie's driveway.

The moment Chuck turned off the ignition, Ellie was beside the driver's window, bundled for the cold, tapping on the glass. He jumped out of the car and hugged her.

"God, are you a sight for sore eyes, sis," Chuck said.

"I didn't want to wake Clara," Ellie explained. "She took forever to get to bed and we have so much stuff to put under the tree tonight."

"Is everything alright?" she asked, leaning closer to the window. Sarah was rubbing her eyes, and she gave Ellie a smile and a careful wave.

"Yes," Chuck sighed. "Sarah just needs some stitches, I think."

Ellie waved enthusiastically back to Sarah, Sarah got out of the car and Ellie rushed everyone inside.

Devon met them at the door and greeted them quietly. Ellie started dressing Sarah's wound.

Chuck explained what had happened as Ellie worked. Chuck told her the backstory about Japan and Sarah's Intersect. The imminent danger was gone, but those loose ends needed tying up.

"It's nothing that won't keep until tomorrow," Ellie said in a tone that forbade argument. "You two are exhausted. Just get some sleep."

Chuck moved like a zombie, so tired he felt nauseated. Sarah didn't look any better. But the day, the night, and everything in between fell away once Sarah was beside him in bed, nestled close under the covers. To hold her in his arms as they fell asleep was the greatest peace he had ever known.

How long had it been since he'd fallen asleep next to her?

The night before Quinn took him, when Sarah had left early and let him sleep…

He banished the memory and held her close.

"I missed this," she hummed softly against his chest.

"Do you remember this?" he asked in surprise.

"Just as I would wake up, I would feel this…pain…in my chest. Emptiness. I knew I was missing you…even if I couldn't remember anything specific. An ache."

He empathized, the memory of that same pain fresh in his mind, only his had been acute and filled to bursting with years of memories she no longer possessed. Thankfully, the feeling was gone, never to return, he reassured himself. Sarah was back.

With heavy eyelids, his voice softer as sleep encroached, he said, "You know, I do have a Christmas gift for you. It's here, with Ellie. Third time's the charm, right? Pun intended."

She giggled, curling herself against him and pressing her face into his chest as she tried to be quiet. He laughed, hearing her, feeling it, reveling in the feeling, for its absence had been pronounced. Sarah's laughter was the sweetest sound he knew, and he imagined it wafting through the snowy silence of Chicago, calming and brightening everyone's holiday.

"Regifting the same thing to the same person, Mr. Bartowski?" she teased. "Boy, you lucked out."

"Yes, I did," he said with a smile, pulling her even closer to him. Then he realized what she had said, sleepiness blunting his normal sharpness. "Wait, Sarah…you remember that, the bracelet?"

"I can picture it. Clearly. Although I didn't remember you gave it to me twice until you just said so."

More memories returning. Perhaps Sarah was right, that rediscovering her feelings for him was helping her memories return. Maybe her fears and habits had repressed them as much as the Intersect had.

She lifted her head to look at him. In the dim light of the window, she looked tired and pale, much as she had in the airport just a few hours ago. But she was now peaceful and content, tired but happy. "You were the best gift I ever received," she said softly, suddenly serious, her face registering her complete conviction..

Seeing his answering expression, she added, "Have I said that before?"

"Yes," he sighed, chuckling through tears. "But you can say that as often as you like. It's a night for regifting."

With another giggle, she rested her head again on his chest. "Merry Christmas, Chuck," she sighed happily.

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."