A/N: We're just meandering along on this one.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
She was driving again, and she seemed to be enjoying it. He had climbed up onto the wagon, grabbed the reigns, and handed them to her without a word. She grinned as she took them, and they started off.
"So, you're just gonna let me hold the reigns all the time, huh?" Sarah asked in a teasing voice.
"Well, it is your wagon," Chuck told her.
"About that," Sarah said. "We started to have a conversation last night that got derailed after you told me some things about Bryce."
"I mean this seriously; how are you?" Chuck asked. She gave him a kind smile as she looked at him, shaking her head. "What?"
"You had to tell me some truths about your friend, and you're worried about me?" Sarah asked.
"He was my friend," Chuck agreed. "But he hurt you on purpose with his words. He knew, whether or not he could face facts… he knew, and he blamed it on you. That had to hurt, and I wasn't going to be part of the hurt."
"Because I had lost my husband?" Sarah said. Chuck started to respond, but she continued. "If you had gotten here, and he was alive, and you found out what you did last night, you wouldn't have told me."
Chuck sat there for a moment, and then he began to answer. "I obviously can truly never know," Chuck told her. "But I would like to think I would have." Sarah stared at him. "I know he's my friend, but he was also purposefully keeping the truth from you. He knows me, and knows that's not something I would be a part of." Chuck paused, then continued. "And I understand that you can't know whether to believe me or not." He held up his hand to stop her from interjecting. She grinned at him, for doing to her what she had done to him prior. "And-and that's fair. You don't know me. I've answered the best I know how."
"We will never know," Sarah agreed. Chuck nodded. "But that answer has made my answer to your question much easier." Chuck gave her a curious look. "I've been thinking, and I don't know who knew about Bryce's plans to go after the Shaw gang, so me remaining Sarah Larkin is not a smart choice."
"That makes a lot of sense," Chuck agreed.
"My father… using any of the last names he gave me over time, is also not a smart choice, because I don't know if he used them in any of his scams," she continued.
"That also makes a lot of sense," Chuck said. "But where does that leave you?"
"Well, I've been thinking, and I have an answer, but you may not like it. And it may put you in a bad position," Sarah told him.
"I don't understand how your name would affect me," Chuck told her.
"What if I was Sarah Bartowski? And before you say no, may I please explain my reasoning?" Sarah asked.
"Okkkkay," Chuck said, a little stunned.
"We are traveling together," Sarah told him. Chuck nodded, agreeing to that. "You know how unmarried people traveling together look."
"I do," Chuck agreed.
"No one would suspect Sarah Larkin to be with another man so quickly after her husband's death," Sarah continued.
"Again, I get that," Chuck replied.
"It might also provide you some cover," Sarah told him. "An unmarried man, heading into Beecher's Hope with the intent of building a life, isn't common. And, given the recent deaths of some members of the Shaw gang, and how close you'll be to them, it might draw eyes."
"But if it's a young couple, looking to start that new life together…" Chuck said, finishing the thought. Sarah nodded. "It makes a lot of sense."
"If you'll agree to this, I'll help you with your farm," Sarah told him. "I will help you get your feet under you. Obviously, I'm dressed for the part."
Chuck smiled at that. He was silent for a moment, and then asked what was weighing on his mind. "And after this is over, what will you do?"
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.
"After we get rid of the Shaw gang-" Chuck began.
"There is no we, Chuck. I am getting rid of the Shaw gang," Sarah told him. Chuck looked away, flexed a jaw muscle, and did the bravest – or stupidest – thing he'd ever done in his life. He took the reins from Sarah. "What are you doing?" she yelled, as he stopped the cart.
He turned to her, his face serious. "I know where you are right now, and I know, until you finish your mission, you can't see past it. I get that. But, when we …" and his tone left no room for argument, a strange look covering her face as she swallowed when he said we , "get justice for your husband – my friend – and prevent other women from being put in the potential situation you were in, there will be an after."
"I can't think about that right now," she said softly. And while the words were soft, there was something between them. She couldn't explain it. Neither could he. But they both felt it.
"Again, I understand that, so this is my deal if you want to be Sarah Bartowski," Chuck told her. Something in her hitched, and she felt her mouth go dry. "After this is over, you stay at the farm. You will not be a kept woman. You will not be expected to do anything."
"I pull my own weight," Sarah insisted.
Chuck nodded. "I know you will, but I will not expect it of you…. or anything else my last name some might think would entitle me to." Something in her seem to explode with heat. She swallowed again. "I need you to heal. I need your spirit to heal." He was silent for a second, and when he continued, his voice was even softer. "After I lost Jill, everything… everything was grey. There was no joy. There was… there was nothing. No feelings, no anything, and I continued to do the work that I thought I was good for."
He looked up at her, tears in his eyes. "I was wrong, and it cost you your husband."
"Chuck," she said gently.
"I know, I know what you think. I know that he made his own choices. But I also know I feel responsible, and this is my fault," Chuck told her. "So, let me help you. Let me help you get through this, get to the other side. And once you are healed, you're welcome to stay, to go, whatever you want."
"I could stay?" Sarah asked.
"Of course," Chuck told her. "Why couldn't you?"
"What if you find someone and want to get married?"
Chuck was silent for a moment. "Sarah, who would want to be with me? A man who couldn't save his mother, his wife, left his father with his sister, and had to move away just to try and start over? There is every chance this farm is going to fail. There is every chance I'm going to die in Beecher's Hope in a few months because I couldn't get a shelter built."
"And you want me to stay?" she asked. His eyes went wide, and she smiled at him. "I'm joking with you." She was silent for a moment. "You do know that there may come times we have to look married."
"An arm around a shoulder, and a kiss on the cheek?" Chuck offered.
"I think that would suffice," Sarah agreed. She stuck her hand out. "Chuck, can I be Sarah Bartowski, your wife?"
He looked at her hand, reached out, and took it gently in hers. They both felt the warmth between them. "I would be proud to have you as my wife," he told her. His grin grew. "As your first wifely duty," he said, watching her eyes grow wide. "You should probably get your wagon moving." As he spoke, he handed her back the reins. She couldn't help but grin at him.
"You're such a demanding husband," she said, making him grin. She shook the straps, and the wagon began to move again. "And it's our wagon. What's mine is yours."
"Good thing you got rid of those dresses then," Chuck said. "I don't think they suit me." Sarah couldn't help but laugh as they continued down the road.
}o{
She was reclining on her bedroll, unable to resist looking over at him. His hat was covering his face. She was quite certain she had never met anyone like him in her life.
She was also certain that part of her problems with Bryce were her problems. She sighed. She had not gone into the marriage telling him the truth. What she wanted. What her hopes, dreams, and goals were. And here was a man, a man she barely knew, but what she did know was that as far as he was concerned, they were partners.
She had wanted away from her family. Bryce… Bryce had wanted a wife. She thought she knew what he wanted, but she didn't. Because what Bryce wanted wasn't possible.
Family meant something. It was free labor, it was a status symbol, and showed that a man was virile. Bryce had that taken away from him, through his own fault, but he couldn't accept it. It had soured their marriage, because neither of them were honest in their hopes and dreams.
She found herself looking at Chuck. Here they were, living and reliving their darkest hours and the honesty that was between them was like nothing she had ever experienced. He was a good man, and the fact he thought no one would ever want to be with him, amused her.
She didn't know how things were going to end with the Shaw gang, but she knew if they both survived, there would be new issues they would have to face. One thing she was certain of, though, was if there were issues, they would face them together.
}o{
"We are going to need some info," Chuck blurted out. She had once again been driving the wagon, and Chuck had been thinking about how to handle the Shaw gang. "Going at them all at once is suicide."
"It is," Sarah said. "We never finished our conversation the other day about your approval of me."
"Yes, we did, and you don't need it," Chuck reminded her.
"But you don't think I should kill them."
The sentence hung there. "It's not that," Chuck said. "I'm not naive. I understand that there are some bad people that will only be stopped by their death."
"But you won't kill," Sarah pointed out.
"Not won't… prefer not to," Chuck told her. "You can bet your bottom dollar if we are in a situation where your life is on the line, I will, to protect you."
She looked over at him. "Not gonna lie, I'm not sure how we're going to do this without me killing anyone," he admitted.
They drove on for some time, silence between them. "I need to let this go," Sarah said softly. "But I can't. I don't want you to have to kill anyone, but, Chuck… what they were going to do to me, you know they'll do to other women."
"I do," Chuck agreed. "But answer me this: Can you live with the death of twenty men by your hand?"
"Those men, those men who did and will do terrible things? Yes."
Chuck nodded. "Then…then we'll figure this out. I'm not stupid Sarah, I know that people I caught were hung, or put in front of firing quads, but… me pulling the trigger…"
He trailed off. She reached over and took his hand. He looked at her as she squeezed it. "Thank you." she said softly. "You don't have to do this."
"Yeah, I do," Chuck told her. "My friend needs my help." She smiled at him. She kept his hand in hers as they continued down the trail.
A/N: Yeah, I know you want more, but it's late. We'll tell more of their story tomorrow.