- CHAPTER Nine: Open Wounds.

Lobby, Westside Hospital LA, February 2008, California

Chuck burst through swinging open doors, weaving his way erratically through family members of patients and nurses wheeling gurneys. Even at this late hour, there were more people than he had expected in the hospital. Breathless, he skidded to a halt in front of the main desk, chest heaving and hair wild.

"May I help you" can the voice in the Hospital information centre.

"Sarah," he gasped without prompting, confused when the nurse looked at him strangely. "Sarah Bartowski," he repeated unnecessarily, sucking in huge lung full of air conditioned hospital air.

"Sir," she said calmly, pulling up a file on the computer in front of her, "There's no one by that name."

"What? Err sorry. Try Sarah Walker!"

The receptionist typed in the name

"We do have a Sarah Walker here at the moment. She's still in surgery."

Chuck was too disorientated to notice the absence of her married name, and simply sagged against the counter in relief. "Yes, that's her!"

The receptionist told Chuck to proceed up to the third level, to go to the nurse's station outside the operations theatres.

Chuck arrived on the third level nurses station and approached the sole nurse, a small asian looking woman working there at that moment. Chuck noticed her nametag with the word 'Desiree" with a smiley face sticker after it.

"May I help you" the nurse asked after looking up from her patients notes on her desk.

"Sarah," he gasped without prompting, confused when the nurse looked at him strangely. " Sarah Walker!"

The nurse typed in the name, clicked something on the screen as Chuck watched her anxiously. She froze for a split second when something came up with a soft prompt noise. Chuck was immediately alert.

"What?" he asked quickly, planting both hands on the counter, trying to crane his neck around to see the display, "What is it?"

The nurse composed herself, clicking again to close the pop-up. She simply gathered a handful of colourful forms from beneath the desk, pausing, "You're her next of kin? Husband?"

Nodding, he patted his untamed hair down, nervously tapping his foot on the floor. "That's right. Husband. I'm her husband."

At his answer, her shoulders lost some of the tension. With a business-like air, she gathered and then she shoved the stack of forms into his hands, along with a pen, gesturing over to the waiting room. "I'll give you periodic updates," she said. "It'll be a while; she's only been in the operating theatre for an hour or so."

Chuck, at a loss of what to do, thanked her absently. Unable to summon anything other than a weak smile at her sympathetic look, he held the papers tightly as he duck his head, Chuck retreated back to a row of empty chairs. He choose one that was next to a little table that had some expired magazines on it.

Sitting down on the hard plastic chair furthest from the entrance in relative peace, he looked down at the forms, only then noticing the pyjamas that he had hastily donned over his boxers on his way out the door.

Dazedly, he cast the forms aside, trying to resist hugging his legs to his chest like a child.

Ellie.

Chuck's head shot up, he'd forgotten to tell her about Sarah. He groped his pant legs blindly only to realise that his pyjamas bottoms had no pockets and no phone. His phone was probably still sitting on the lounge sofa where he had thrown it after he had ended the call and scrambled into robe and slippers in the dead of night.

His sister had a shift now, but he wasn't sure whether she on call.

Approaching the nurse again, his heart still throbbing painfully fast in his worry for his wife, he choked out, "Could you please page Doctor Bartowski?"

Ellie had opted to keep her maiden name to avoid confusion between her and Devon. Besides, she said, she wanted to keep him company as a Bartowski.

"I'm her brother," he added unnecessarily.

Desiree had a double-take at his words. "Are you Chuck? Oh my god," she said. "It's your wife, Ellie's sister-in-law, in there!"

Chuck nodded his head.

She quickly apologized again, realizing her lack of tact. "I'll page her now, of course," she said quickly. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks," he responded, wandering back to his seat.

Trying to look absorbed in the four-leaf clover pattern on his pyjama pants (a Christmas gift from Bryce, who'd said it would help him get lucky), he gripped the armrest with white knuckles, keeping his ears diligently open for his sister's approach.

"Chuck!" He heard her shout as she walked briskly to him. His head shot up. A frown on her features as she got wind of his features, "What happened!? Where's Sarah? How is she?"

"I don't know," he said quietly. "They haven't told me anything yet."

They embraced next to the chair he had sat on, Ellie could sense that Chuck was barely holding it together. He was shaking, like he was about to go into shock. She continued to hold him until the tremors subsided. Chuck emotional state was beginning to affect his sister as she could feel tears trying to form behind her eyelids.

"Wait here," Ellie sniffed, "I'll have a word with Desiree."

He watched as she walked up to the counter, sweet smile on her face as she pulled the doctor's coat further around her shoulders in emphasis.

Chuck collapsed back into the seat, giving his face a wipe with the inside of his robe. He lent back closing his eyes in tiredness.

Footsteps headed back towards him after a minute, and he felt Ellie's hand on his shoulder.

"Chuck, Sarah's got internal injuries. The weird thing was that she had a broken arm too, but it was already fixed up when she got admitted for these particular injuries."

He looked up at her with his bloodshot eyes. "What? If she was in an accident, how come they didn't notice the other injuries?"

Ellie shrugged, "I don't know much about it, Chuck. They told me that she collapsed on the plane. Something must have been wrong with her when she got on."

"How could –" Chuck shook his head, unable to form any words. He was much too worried about her to bother speculating on what had caused her to need to be rushed into the ER in the first place.

His sister sat down beside him, pulling him close so that his head rested on her shoulder. "She'll be okay, Chuck, they said it was bad, but now she's stable. They'll be done soon."

Chuck fell into a kind of a daze as he watched the going-ons blankly, feeling Ellie stroke his back in a motherly way.

Distantly he heard his name called only ten minutes later. "Chuck! Ellie!"

Devon strode into the room, all eyes on him. His presence attracted much attention as his voice boomed through the room. He spotted them and disregarding everyone else, he strode towards them, slinging his stethoscope around his neck.

Ellie looked up with a sad smile, staying by Chuck as her husband approached.

"Hey man," Devon said as he crouched in front of Chuck. "One of the nurses told me a Bartowski was hurt, I came down as quick as I could."

Chuck offered him a grim smile. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I appreciate it, Devon."

Devon's brilliant smile appeared, equal parts comforting and supportive, managing to keep his awesomeness intact even in these circumstances. "She's family, Chuck. I have to be here."

Ellie reached out and touched her husband's cheek in affection. She glanced at her watch before asking Devon, "Will you look after my brother please?"

Kissing Chuck's cheek, she stood, "It's nearly time for my rounds. Sorry Chuck, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Thanks for coming Ellie, I'll ring you when she's out of surgery." Chuck said absentmindedly forgetting he left his phone at home.

Hugging Ellie before she left, Devon sat down in the seat Ellie had just vacated, leaning back with a sigh as he kept Chuck company.

The minutes trickled by as Chuck waited impatiently, eyes fixed on the nurse at the station wondering when she'd get new information about Sarah.

It had been Sarah's first international assignment for KGB in Prague. She had assured him she'd come home perfectly fine. Cursing at himself for not joining her there, he wished he had insisted, despite her refusal to let him come because of his own fledging company that needed attention.

"Mr. Bartowski?"

Chuck's head shot up for the second time tonight, so fast he felt his neck crack. He felt Devon straighten beside him. "That's me," Chuck said hastily. "How's Sarah?" he asked loudly, leaning forward and half-rising from his seat.

The surgeon clasped his hands together, "She will be fine. She'll wake up in two hours or so. Her injuries weren't too serious, we discovered, but bad enough."

"What do you mean by 'Bad enough'?"

"Sarah had a small tear in her small intestine which means she had a small leak and that was causing peronitis. Often trauma victims only start showing symptoms when it becomes near fatal".

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up, shaking the doctor's hand enthusiastically. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much."

"And you're doing an awesome job," the captain declared, his voice taking on a happy tilt as he peered at the doctor's nametag. "Can we see her now?"

The doctor stepped back, spied the two men. "As if I could keep you out of the post-op room, Dr Woodcomb. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to her."

Chuck was hot on his heels as the doctor turned, giddy and eager to see Sarah after being separated for so long. At first, he had wondered how he would survive not seeing his wife around as often when she'd taken the international job. Her domestic job had taken her away too, but he had been pacified that she had still been in the country. Instead, now she flew thousands of miles away to foreign countries on a regular basis.

They turned into a section of the hospital he'd never been in before, and he heard Devon mutter inaudibly in front of him. Chuck craned his neck to catch the conversation, and Devon shook his head before he spoke.

"Doctor," Devon asked, "why is Sarah being kept in these wards?"

Chuck looked from him to the doctor while his brother in law elaborated, "These are usually reserved for celebrities and…" he dropped his voice so that the other man couldn't hear, "and government officials."

Leaning closer, Chuck kept his voice as low as Devon's, unsure why he was being so secretive, "What, like the FBI?"

Devon hesitated, "Yeah, something like that."

Chuck nodded dismissively, just wanting to get to Sarah.

The doctor held his badge up for identification for the guards standing on the other side. Pressing his palm to the wall scanner, the deceptively thin glass doors slid open noiselessly and security nodded them through.

"Her employers must think she's worth the extra cost and care," the doctor explained. "It must be a prominent company."

Chuck didn't answer, looking at the room numbers that flashed by as they strode quickly through the wing.

Ahead, a well-built man closed the door gently at the end of the hallway, looking up to give them a handsome grin as they approached. Chuck watched as he walked past them quickly. His polished shoes clacked over the floor, coiffed hair slightly rumpled to lend a casual tone to his well tailored suit. Chuck got a whiff of cologne as the man walked past. Usually all Chuck could smell in a hospital was the disinfectant, but this cologne was distinct.

"She's in here," the doctor announced, stopping at the door the man had just exited.

Alarmed, Chuck whipped around just to witness the smallest glimpse of his retreating back before he turned the corner, out of sight.

Any thought of pursuing the man fled from his mind as Devon pushed him into the room. His brother-in-law stepped behind him like a sentinel while the doctor moved into the room, moving easily around the room as he checked the lines, tubes and monitors.

Chuck looked around anywhere but the bed in the middle of the suite, heart hammering, yearning to see his wife, but knowing he'd hate how out of character she would look; all lifeless, with no ready smile that always lit up her face when she saw him.

"She's just sleeping," the doctor said to Chuck, when he finally let his eyes settle on her motionless body, her skin frighteningly pale, blending into the sheets around her. "She'll have a full recovery."

Chuck gravitated towards the bed as if his legs were on autopilot. Standing next to the bed, he was almost afraid to touch her.

When he summoned up the courage to pick up her cool hand, her smooth skin sliding against his, Devon and the consulting doctor had already quietly left the room.

"Sarah," he breathed, his fingers gliding over her forehead as he smoothed her golden hair back from her face. Chuck gazed at her for a moment, his heart physically constricting as he took in her fragile form. He wasn't used to this Sarah. Quiet, vulnerable, none of the life he had always seen in her. It was eerie.

He pulled a nearby chair over, discarding his train of thought as his heart melted, seeing her resting unburdened on the bed. Sitting on the edge as he propped his elbow onto the bed, he kissed her knuckles gently.

Chuck didn't remember when he laid his head down, but the next time he woke up, blinking through the darkness of the room; blinds' obscuring any light from outside, Sarah was shifting restlessly in her bed as she muttered indistinctly.

"Sarah?" he asked, fully alert. "Sarah!"

He leaned closer, putting his ear by her mouth.

"Can you hear me?" he asked hopefully again, willing for anything to come out of her mouth. He just needed proof she was still with him, still alive, still his wife.

She spoke again, quietly, and Chuck froze so he could concentrate on hearing what she said. A bit louder, she repeated, voice scratched and skin starting to flush with life, "Cold or was that Cole?"

Chuck immediately got up and put another blanket over his wife. It seemed to do the trick as she stopped moving and then remained still. Chuck dozed off again this time remaining upright in his chair while he held her right hand.

Chuck woke with a whack and was disoriented by the assault on him and his person. Her eyes closed, when she started to stir, then she lashed out at him with frightening accurate fists as if he were an enemy before coming to her senses, finding him tipping out of his chair onto the floor in an attempt to avoid her left arm secured in a hard cast.

Once she calmed down, her concern immediately shifted to whether Cole was all right.

That caused confusion to Chuck, he thought she had muttered that she was "Cold" and now he was wondering if in fact she meant "Cole"? And who was Cole? Chuck didn't know anyone named Cole, Sarah had never mentioned she knew anyone with that name before.

He later sat in the cafeteria, morosely staring into his cup of coffee.

He was starting to wonder if it was a mistake she made by lettering the cat out of the bag. Quelling the immediate surge of jealousy, Chuck had simply admitted that he didn't know and waited relatively patiently for an explanation.

She had been so confused that Chuck wondered whether she even knew she'd let that name out of her mouth.

In trying to get out of bed because she was restless, she'd spotted the Gardenias on the side table. Chuck had bought the gardenias because he knew that they her favourite.

"Oh, Gardenias, my favourite, are they from Cole?"

"No they're from me" Chuck corrected her.

"Oh."

His gaze was a mixture of anguish and disillusioned disappointment.

He shared a long look with Sarah; both looked like they wanted to say something. Neither did. Neither could, for all sorts of reasons.

It was hard to pretend that her automatic assumption that the flowers were from Cole didn't sting.

He stood, pushing the small metal chair back into its proper position under the table, he quietly left the cafeteria, heading back upstairs to Sarah.

He and Sarah still hadn't discussed what had happened when she'd woken up, and it had already been two days. It had been a consistent problem for them - Sarah always kept things hidden inside, refusing to let him in. And he had always been too careful of her feelings to press her for details, often resulting in uncomfortable silences when neither knew what to say except, somehow it always seemed to be it's complicated. Chuck hadn't exactly grown up around a wealth of shining examples, but he had always been led to believe a lack of communication wasn't a typical indicator of a healthy marriage.

"Hey," she greeted, her eyes shining as she watched him step into the private room. Chuck lingered by the door as he answered, "Hi".

Her hair shone a pale blond against her unusually pallid skin. "Why are you standing all the way over there?" she asked with a smile, beckoning him over weakly.

Chuck walked closer, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he once again tried to keep his emotions under wraps for her sake.

"Come on," Sarah encouraged as she shifted, making space for him on the small bed, "get in."

Maybe she really didn't know about the man in her room or her first words when she woke up, Chuck thought dubiously. Why else would she act like there's nothing wrong between us?

He slipped off his shoes and climbed awkwardly into the bed, trying to ignore the coldness of her hands on his arms as she helped him get comfortable.

Chuck lay back, sinking into the pillow and letting her wriggle her way under his arm and rest her chin on his chest with her own arms tucked loosely around him. When he held her tighter, he felt her muscles relax noticeably as she melted over him bonelessly and slowly closed her eyes.

"Chuck?"

He looked down toward the half of her head he could see with his chin and her proximity obscuring his vision. "Sarah?"

She let her hand run up his neck and behind his ear, her fingers curling themselves into his hair. His eyes fluttered close at her touch involuntarily. "Why have you been so quiet these last few days?" She hesitated, tracing her fingers over his eyebrows, down the ridge of his nose and around his lips. "Aren't you glad I'm back?"

Chuck tilted his head and kissed her palm. "Of course I am," he told her firmly. "I'm just a little shocked from everything that's happened."

Sarah sighed, "I'm sorry Chuck, it wasn't meant to happen."

"What happened exactly, Sarah?" he asked, absentmindedly massaging little circles into her side with his thumb. "All I got was a phone call from a stranger on a recently landed plane telling me that they found my phone number on your cell and that my wife was being loaded onto an ambulance at LAX!" He finished slightly out of breath, his voice having increased an octave or two as he tried to convey the horror he'd felt when he had received the call.

"I got into an accident," she revealed, gesturing with her uninjured arm. "I got checked over in Atlanta, so I got on the plane thinking nothing was wrong."

Chuck shook his head. "You should have gotten more thoroughly checked out," he rebuked worriedly.

"I just wanted to get back," Sarah shrugged. "I don't even remember exactly what happened."

"So what happened that you do remember?" he asked, seeing a flash of some odd emotion skate across her visage before she answered.

"Car crash," Sarah replied smoothly. "There was a car chase on the highway, and my taxi got hit pretty violently. I hit my head and got knocked out. I don't know how my arm broke, but afterwards, they told me I had severe bruising across my midsection from a hard jerk against the seatbelt, but not the internal bleeding or the organ damage."

Chuck absorbed the information without comment, and was ashamed to catch himself probing for inconsistencies in her story. There was no reason to distrust her, but Sarah's openness prompted him to ask, "What about that guy?"

Sarah propped herself up with an elbow on his chest and met his eyes with a piercing stare that would have caused any other man to back down. Chuck recoiled slightly, but didn't withdraw the question.

"Who?" she asked, carefully keeping her intense gaze focused on his eyes.

"That man," Chuck repeated reluctantly, dreading the possibility that he'd always feared - that another man who deserved her more had won her affection. Even now that they were married, Chuck always had wondered why she'd chosen him. He was nothing special, not particularly handsome or rich, or sophisticated. He wasn't one of those bad boys that the girls fantasised about. Chuck was that nice guy that girls sought after when they were ready to settle down. He was the safe option, a meat and potatoes man, someone who would mow the lawns at the weekend.

"He left your room just before I came to see you," he added casually.

Sarah frowned, looking plainly perplexed, "I don't know who you're talking about–"

"Is his name Cole?" he asked tiredly. "Is he the one you were asking about when you first came to, and the same one I saw?"

He felt her breath hitch against him, and a spark of understanding sprang into her eyes. "You saw him?" she asked in a tone that Chuck found disorienting accusatory for a married woman who had a mysterious male visitor.

"Just a brief glimpse," he recounted simply, trying to hold back the flood of resentment in hopes that Sarah would offer him a reasonable explanation.

Sarah relaxed a tiny amount. "He's my partner. Cole is a fellow employee who came to Atlanta with me for the Designers convention. I wanted to be there if you ever saw him, just to make sure you didn't assume anything. He was in the taxi with me, but he escaped relatively unharmed. When I woke up here, I must have been reliving the aftermath of crash."

Chuck wondered idly if all Kreative Graphics personnel were all beautiful and athletically built. Not for the first time, he wished that his wife's co-workers could be less attractive, or that he could somehow compete with their looks. "He looks more like James Bond than a designer," he muttered doubtfully.

His wife smiled in mock exasperation. "Chuck, you've been watching too many movies since I've been away."

"I wouldn't be, if you had been home."

Both of them caught their breath, Chuck looking wide-eyed as if he couldn't believe that had slipped from his mouth. "I'm sorry," he mumbled before she could speak. "That wasn't supposed to come out."

Sarah sighed, running her hand through her hair. "Well, you must have been thinking about it. Comments like that don't come out of nowhere." Chuck looked down, and she continued, trying to steady her voice, "Is that what you really think?" she asked. "You were the one who persuaded me to take the international job."

"I didn't know you'd be gone quite this long, or so often," Chuck said honestly. "I just- I'm not sure it's such a good thing after all. I really missed you."

Sarah closed her eyes, "I know, but the job conditions are fantastic, Chuck," she told him, "There was a lot of other benefits as well. I promised a lot of people a lot of things. I thought you understood that this job would sacrifice a lot of our time."

"I don't know," Chuck mumbled, "We're just… we're never together. If you're not gone, then I'm on those tours to test Pineapple's newest military systems component. We've never had the time to just enjoy each other's company. We tend to put other people's needs above our own."

"So how are your absences rationalized against mine?" Sarah asked sharply.

Chuck looked away. "It's just… it's not the same," he said, wincing inwardly at the lame excuse. "I'm serving my country when I'm away."

Looking like she were holding back ironic laughter, Sarah's face twisted into a darkly amused sneer, leaving her husband thoroughly confused. "And I don't."

As he realized the argument was a losing battle, Chuck sighed in defeat. "I'm not gone as long as you are," he tried.

"Look, Chuck," Sarah said, finally calming from her highly defensive attitude. "You do what you love, I do what I love. I've got no problem with you as a soldier, except that you worry me out of my mind when you're away." She touched his face, feeling a little guilty after arguing with him savagely when it was plain that he was just worried about them. His comparison of his career over hers left a bad taste in her mouth, but peering more intently at him, she realised there was another reason, "Chuck, what's this really about?"

He looked vaguely surprised at her easy read of his emotions. "It's not important," he said, a bit of rebellion creeping into his voice after the lost debate.

"Tell me," Sarah coaxed as she lifted her face above his, her hair falling gently like sunlight around their faces, building a golden wall between them and the world. "What's wrong?"

Chuck's emotions had settled again, the draining fervour from their disagreement falling away as quickly as it had risen when she penetrated his defences and found his real fears. He smiled half-heartedly. "Nothing, I just wish I was there with you."

Sarah's face smoothed into a gentle smile at his words, "Chuck, it's not your fault I got hurt," she said, once again reading his underlying meaning effortlessly. "No one could have predicted the… crash would happen."

"I just want to be close to you just in case you need me, that's all," Chuck said. "I can't do that if you're in another country."

Sarah's eyes were drawn to the adorably anxious curve of his furrowed brow. The extent of his obvious concern for her made her heart leap. She tangled her fingers in his hair intimately, leaning down to brush an appreciative kiss against his lips. The brief contact brought a tingle to her lips before she caught him again a split second later in another exchange, pressing her lips deeper onto his. Her mouth opened as she felt him respond eagerly, unable to keep herself from tasting him after the first overwhelming spark of addictive joy brought by the sensation of his skin against hers.

Half-laughing and giddy from their unhurried succession of searing kisses, Sarah kept her fingers in his hair as she gasped for breath. Her lips vibrated lightly against his as he drew in a few deep breaths. She could feel his heart pounding against her breast as she lay atop him, and her delight at the proof of his ardour threatened to drown her as her chest expanded with bubbling warmth.

"You just want to be there to keep an eye on Cole, don't you?" Sarah teased him light-heartedly, still trying to control the fluctuations in her heartbeat brought on by his loving gaze. She hated letting him down, hated getting into fights with him. She'd prefer to just ignore their problems until they both forgot about them.

Pretending to be affronted, Chuck was about to defend himself, but she kissed him before he could retort. He tried to evade her question as she let him go after being satisfied by another steamy kiss but there was no hiding the blush on his cheeks. Trying to save him from his rambling, she cut him off, rolling her eyes affectionately, but could not help feeling pleased with his protectiveness.

"It's cute," she laughed, unable to stop smiling. "Chuck," Sarah continued seriously, her voice stumbling over the next words as she always did, a vulnerable sheen in her eyes. "I love you. So… trust me."

Chuck beamed back at her, appreciating her difficulty in conveying her emotions through words. "I do," he assured her. To keep the tone light, he added a grumble, "I just don't trust that Cole guy," drawing a chuckle from his wife. "I just want to protect you, Sarah," he admitted earnestly. "After all," he added with a smirk, "I'm the hunk who's in the army."

Sarah had a secret little smile on her lips as she settled back against him again, holding back a scoff and nodding in mock thankfulness. "Of course you are, Darling."

One of the benefits of Sarah's car accident was that Chuck got to meet one of her friends, Carina Miller was a slim tall redhead with legs that seemed to go on forever. While Sarah was convalescing at home Carina came and stayed. Carina soon worked out that Chuck was easily flustered by confident women talking sexual innuendo. When Carina was wearing heels, she could look Chuck square in the eyes, which she did often. Carina had gone out of her way to buy shoes with higher heels, now she was his height and that created an interesting détente.

The word was soon out there that Chuck had one of Sarah's beautiful friends staying in their apartment. This was a red rag to a bull for Bryce and Morgan. While Morgan was previously a frequent visitor Bryce tended to stay away. Now that Carina was about so were the men. Within minutes of Chuck walking in door at night, Morgan would be buzzing the intercom.

Morgan at least had some value, he was an unexploited talent in the kitchen. Morgan was taught by his mother as she didn't want him to grow up living on junk food. Boolonia Grimes often had to work in the afternoons so she taught her son to do more than just boil water then add the pasta. Later on Morgan started to experiment with cooking, occasionally helping Chuck's sister who herself was a great cook. Morgan who was never subtle about having a crush on Ellie but cooking was one legitimate way of spending time and being close enough to smell her perfume.

Letting in the bearded gnome, as Chuck liked to refer him as when he wasn't around of course, Chuck would never be that rude to his childhood friend. Morgan had been to the supermarket and had bags of groceries. He would make his way into the kitchen and start food preparations. Chuck would only venture in the kitchen to get a beer out of the fridge.

Carina on the other hand was inquisitive, she would stay and watch Morgan as he worked.

"Why are you doing your boss's cooking?"

"I'm doing it as a favour, you know Sarah isn't well and Chuck has got too much on his mind with the company and the accident. I'd be cooking for myself at home so I rather come here and cook for friends."

In short it was "I may be short and unattractive but if I can tempt you with my culinary skills I may be a chance".