A/N: Sorry I havent updated in a while. I was on vacation and then I just got lazy. Hope this chap makes up for the wait. Unlike the previous chapters, this one follows the chap directly. Also, thanks to Kev for the idea. :)

In all the time he'd been living with her Chuck only now became aware of the fact that Sarah slept on her stomach.

A simple detail but thrilling and maddening all the same. Having the luck to wake up first he intended to indulge himself; watch her sleep. But, of course, it would be just his luck that this morning her back faced him. He would've liked to see her face– catch her eyelids move if they did, fascinate in the way her eyelashes dusted the tops of her cheeks. But, as it was, half her face was under a pillow anyway. Just as in life she was, from the looks of it, messy in her sleep too.

Her hair was perfectly bed-heady and splayed all about her head. While one arm lay trapped under her weight the other extended across the bed so that the wrist bent over the edge like a flaccid plank. Her legs were hidden under his blanket but as his eyes roved southward Chuck realized, for the first time, that one of her ankles was crossed with his. And the feeling– the full weight of it– hit him suddenly and delighted him. The realization of everything that had taken place in the wee hours of the night (more than just the kissing– what it all meant) was all perfectly signified in the way her leg was entwined with his.

Her ankle felt– if he could borrow the Captain's word for a moment– awesome. It was soft. So soft. And also bony, of course, duh, it was an ankle. And how he loved that ankle. He loved it's paradoxical soft and bony state of being. He cocked his head, trying to remember all the ways he'd seen said ankle. There was the time she'd worn those ballerina slippers for a mission when they'd had– he stopped the memory as soon as he realized he'd successfully craned his neck without any pain at all. This was going to be a good day, he decided. He edged closer to Sarah, wanting to start that day as soon as possible but was stopped by a new pain, this time in his lower back.

"Grawwghhwhatthe–"

"Chuck?" She lifted her head with a start, inhaling deeply through her nostrils as her eyes quickly adjusted to the morning light.

"G'morning," he breathed, trying to sound cheery but falling somewhere between prepubescent and constipated. Not a good start to the day.

"Is everything ok? How's your neck?"

"My neck? My neck's just fine. My back on the other hand...my back is... what the hell was I thinking last night?"

Sarah immediately assumed her place as protector, carefully leaning over him trying to check for physical signs of damage at the spot at the base of his spine where his fingers were rubbing. As she scanned his face Chuck could see the change in her eyes; from all business agent to simply concerned Sarah. A hint of a frown formed on her lips.

Indeed, the tender blotches of red that were marking his cheekbone and jaw the night before had already morphed into garish purple-and-yellow bruises. A perfect picture of the bad fall, the pain. She touched his cheek.

"But I'm still pretty, right?"

Sarah smiled. "Try not to move too much," she said. "I'm going to go call in sick. For the both of us."

But before she had a chance to move they both heard a loud, frantic banging on the window. Morgan's mouth fell agape as he watched the scene from behind the glass, flinging open the Morgan Door and stepping inside in one fell swoop.

"What have you done to him!" he demanded with an accusatory finger pointed at Sarah.

"Relax, Morgan!"

"What?" Sarah snapped. "You honestly think I did that to him?"

"Oh don't look at me like that," Morgan snapped right back. "What are you, like 6'5!? You're an Amazon woman! You're She-Ra! I knew Chuck couldn't keep up with you. And what do you do? Poor little, fragile Chuck. Look how skinny he is! He can't take you in a fight to the death! He probably can't even take you in a thumb war! Man, look at the size of those bruises!"

"It's not as bad as it looks," Chuck assured him. "And while I agree that Sarah could very easily take me down I promise you this was no fault of hers." Looking at Sarah with a faux frightened glare he added, "I didn't make the eggs right and walked into a door, that's all."

Sarah simply rolled her eyes as Chuck chuckled to himself. "I fell, Morgan," he explained seriously. Placing a hand on Sarah's knee, "Sarah's been taking care of me."

"Oh," Morgan said. "Sorry about accusing you before. I was only sort of kidding."

She pressed a tight smile to her lips. "I'm going to make some breakfast."

"Pancakes?" Morgan asked.

If Chuck was going to take the day off, Morgan saw no reason for him to go to work either so when Casey walked through the door he found Chuck and Morgan on the couch, furiously clicking away on their respective joysticks.

"I take it you didn't go to work either," Sarah said, closing the door behind him.

"Keeping eyes on Bartowski is my work," he grunted.

"Well it took you long enough."

"I figured you could handle the morning routine of bathing and feeding the charge on your own, Agent Walker."

They glared at each other.

"Hi Casey!" Chuck called without taking his eyes off the TV screen. "No need to check in! Doing fine!"

"That guy is creepily obsessed with you, man," Morgan said in a low voice.

"Just wanted to see if you needed anything," Casey said. "But I see you've got Sarah and Morgan here with you. And your sister's parking her car out front so...I hope you have your story straight," he told Sarah.

"Ellie's here?" Chuck asked. "She's going to freak if she sees me."

"Oh she's already freaking," Morgan said, firing away on his controller. "I called her, let her know about your..." He gestured towards his face.

"Why would you do that, Morgan?"

"Duh, she's a doctor."

"Chuck!" Ellie said, blazing through the door. "What happened?!"

Casey watched Ellie approach Chuck, followed closely by Sarah. While the sister placed her hands on either side of Chuck's face, Sarah hand roamed his back, a convincing girlfriend. A lot calmer now than she was the night before.

Casey had walked into the ER's waiting room and spotted Sarah right away. She was the one clad conspicuously black from head to toe, her hair in a disheveled low bun, her right knee bouncing up and down at a ridiculous, fast pace.

He sat beside her without preamble, she barely registering that he was there. "Staite's been taken care of. Left him in NSA custody."

"Good."

That knee would not let up. "I take it there's no word on Bartowski."

"No," she said. "They didn't tell me an... I'm sure he'll be fine. He's going to be fine."

Her knee moved up and down incessantly, and when she leaned her forearm on it it began to shake as well.

"So long as his head didn't get too banged up. Let's hope the intersect is intact."

She fixed loose hair behind one ear, nodding without hearing a thing. The knee shivering like it was diseased, making him dizzy. Casey gripped it with his hand and Sarah turned to him. "Calm down, Agent," he said slowly, firmly. "It was a fall. Both of us have taken a lot worse."

His slow, low enunciation was almost hypnotizing, getting Sarah from unfocused and tense to an expressionless stillness. When he lifted his hand her knee remained unmoving.

It was right about then Casey realized this thing that was going on, this situation with Walker and Bartowski was a problem. It was a lot more relevant now as he watched the way Sarah 's hand rub circles on Chuck's back as they stood by the couch. Absentmindedly rubbing circles as she said something in his ear. That type of messaging was completely ineffective, he knew. Just an excuse to touch. Still playing the roll of convincing girlfriend even though Ellie had gone into the bathroom to retrieve something out of the first-aid kit.