I don't own Chuck. Actually, I don't own much of anything.

This is based upon a one shot by Markey DeSad titled Ends in San Pedro. If you haven't read it, I'd synopsize it here… but that would just be rewarding laziness, wouldn't it, lol? Suffice it to say… it's not a happy story. Years ago, back when we were discussing it, I sensed a challenge had been thrown down. Since I can turn almost anything into a sappy happy ending, could I explain things in a way that was icky sweet? I was going through the unfinished things on my hard drive and found this… um… attempt.

Content Warning: Any diabetics should take a blood sugar reading and have a dose of insulin at the ready before reading this. I didn't want to subject any beta to this much sappiness, so any mistakes are my own.

If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. If it's clever enough, who knows? It just might inspire something.

Begins in San Juan

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"How are you feeling?"

Chuck smiled at the look of concern on her face. "Sarah, stop worrying about me," he said. "I'm going to be fine. I'm getting stronger every day."

Sarah carefully placed her head back in the comfortable crook between his arm and chest. Chuck was basically right. He was plainly getting stronger. Today was the first time she could fight down the panic and admit that maybe the worst was over… and finally take a solid breath. Still… "In case you haven't noticed, I like worrying about you," she said. "You've had a tough month. I just pretended to commit suicide. You came far too close to actually dying… for real. Getting here covertly wasn't that easy."

Chuck laughed. Talk about understatement. She had a point about the almost dying thing. For most of that journey he was barely conscious. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "Yeah, the first couple of weeks dragging me around the jungles of Central America weren't that fun. I'm a little fuzzy about the details. I do remember meeting some… um… interesting people. On the up-side, I've spent the past week cuddled with an angel. That more than makes up for it. It's been the best week of my life."

At least that got Sarah joining his laughing. "I'm hardly an angel," she protested. "I seriously think that the real angels would protest including me in their group."

"Okay," Chuck sighed. "Agreed. Angels is probably a pretty exclusive club. I've spent the past week cuddled with a blonde goddess. Better? It's still the best week of my life."

That got them laughing even harder. "Goddess is a stretch," Sarah said. "But I don't know of any real goddesses to protest so I guess you have enough poetic license to say it. Thank you. In case I haven't said it lately, you're not so bad yourself. It's been the best week for me too."

"So now, here I find myself in this island paradise with said goddess," Chuck said. "Did we really get away with this?"

"It's over," Sarah assured him. "While you were sleeping I got a message from Ellie using the code we worked out. Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker are officially dead. Ellie included a copy of our death certificates. Maybe we'll frame them and hang them on the wall."

"What about Beckman?" Chuck asked. "Do you think she was listening? Will she look for us?"

Sarah gave his chest a faux slap. "Will you stop worrying?" she asked with a grin. "Worrying is my job. Beckman is too predictable. That makes her easy to play. The odds of the good general listening to Ellie's cell phone when she got a call from Agent Walker approach 100%. Staging that call was the key part of the plan. The only question I have is how many analysts were in the room with her. She'd be suspicious that I was planning something… would most definitely order autopsies. Since Honduras isn't exactly known for top notch medical care, she'd send someone from Washington with DNA to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. Ellie was ahead of her. The DNA she supplied for the coroner matched the bodies we left. How could Beckman argue with that autopsy report? She even gave us both headstones in Arlington. Maybe we can go see them someday. With official autopsies, she would have no reason to even begin to look for us. Even if she did suspect something, good luck finding us. We have too much of a head start… and she wouldn't know where to begin to look. In this part of the world, cash is everything, and we have tons of that… more than enough to last a lifetime. It's time to start living the good life."

"I miss Ellie," Chuck sighed.

"I know," Sarah agreed. "Me too. She misses us too. It's only for a little while. She understands the situation. After all, it was her plan in the first place. It was nothing short of brilliant. I'm upset that I didn't think of it. I think the girl might have missed her calling as a doctor. She would make a good spy."

Chuck smiled. "I think maybe the girl's read Romeo and Juliet one too many times," he said.

"In a few months, Ellie Bartowski, and Burbank in general, will be off the CIA's radar," Sarah insisted. "Maybe we'll have her talk Devon into finally taking a vacation. Why not here in San Juan? No one would bat an eye."

"I do still have one serious problem," Chuck said.

Sarah took note of the depressed tone. "What's that?" she asked.

Chuck looked over. Lately she had been wearing a silky night shirt to bed. It wasn't revealing but the way it hugged her soft curves was even sexier. Yeah, he noticed… but this was the first time he really noticed. His grin lit up the room. "I still have to convince said blonde goddess that I'm strong enough for… um… physical activities. Our cover is as Chuck and Sarah Carmichael. They are married, right?"

Sarah got serious. "It's not a cover," she insisted… maybe a little harsher than she intended… so she softened her tone. "This is our life. No matter what we call ourselves… Bartowski… Walker… Carmichael… it doesn't matter. You and I are married. That's a 'till death do us part' deal. Maybe we haven't said those vows in a church… but that doesn't matter to me. It doesn't make them any less true. We can fix that someday if you want. We've already come uncomfortably close to the 'till death do us part' thing. Let's try and put that off for as long as possible… okay?"

When Sarah took that tone, she wasn't kidding. Maybe keep the mood light. "Wait a minute," Chuck teased. "How long have we been married? I think I just got cheated out of a wedding night. You won't even let me kiss the bride."

That got them laughing again. "I'm sorry that I'm being so cautious," Sarah said. "I'm worried about you. I can safely promise that you most definitely aren't going to get cheated out of a wedding night… and heads up… buckle your seat belt. It's going to be far more than a night. I'm more eager for that than you are. The thing is, once that starts, I'm probably going to go a little overboard for a while. I don't want to do that until my new husband can survive the process. If we start kissing here in bed… dressed like we aren't… it would be the final nail in my resolve. I wouldn't be able to stop. It would quickly turn into second base… then third… then we'd be smoking a cigarette. Chuck, you know that smoking isn't healthy… especially in your condition. After all of Ellie's hard work, it'd be a shame to overdo the sex thing and kill you anyway."

"I wonder what the coroner would list as the cause of death," Chuck teased. "Would he list smoking as a contributing factor? Would he make note of the perpetual smile on the corpse's face?"

"Let's try hard to not find out," Sarah teased right back. "I get that cuddling here in bed makes it hard… for both of us. I'm not trying to tease you. It's all going to happen soon. I just want to wait until I don't have to feel guilty… and you're ready to keep up. Fair warning, I've built my expectations of you up to the point where they will be hard to meet. It's the only first time we're ever going to have. Did I mention my fantasy of making love in the surf?"

Chuck nodded towards the window. "The surf is about a hundred yards away," he teased. "Anytime you're ready, I think I'm prepared to keep up. I'll make every effort to meet your high expectations."

"I know," Sarah said. "That's exactly my fear. You'll make too much effort. Right now, that hundred yards would be a long walk for you. Chuck, I watched you dying. I don't think you get what that felt like. You feel like you're up to it… and that's a very, very good sign. I get that I'm being cautious. It's just for a little while. I promise."

Sarah snuggled deeper into his neck and got quiet. "I… um… I love you, Chuck," she said. "I shouldn't have taken this long to say it. That's not because I feel guilty asking you to wait for your wedding night. It's been true for a long, long time. This is the first time I've been in love. It's also the last. It's a little intense… but in a wonderful way. I'm not so good with words… but you need to know."

"The words are nice," Chuck said. "I love you too… but you're the strong silent type. I've always understood that. I kinda figured that telling me 'till death do us part' was your way of saying that you love me… not to mention basically carrying me on your back through the jungle for two weeks with one hand… while fighting off bad guys with the other."

"It was a coward's way," Sarah sighed. "It wasn't good enough. The truth is, I love being married to you. I'm looking forward to starting our new lives here in San Juan. I need to get better with the sappy words. There's no room in our lives for a strong silent type. I'm your wife… not your handler. You deserve for me to start acting like it."

"I'll tell you what," Chuck said. "I'll let you slide on the sappy words if we can hurry up on the wedding night thing."

There it was. Today's reminder of how great her life had become. No matter how she was feeling, he could always make her laugh. It was way better than sex. Sarah took a long time getting the words out through her giggles.

"That was such a nice try."

x-x-x-x-x

The End