A/N: Wow! I have to admit that I was mega surprised by the amount of positive reviews for the first chapter! Thank you guys so much! I hope this one doesn't disappoint.
I need to thank mxpw for taking the time to be my beta reader. He puts up with so much, you guys. Seriously, one minute, I'd be expressing some self doubt I have about all my stories, and the next, I'm talking about wanting to write a Phase Three meets Scott Pilgrim meets Sucker Punch meets Michael Bay fic.

The devil on his shoulder told him that Sarah was too good to be true. It kept insisting that she probably came with a lot of baggage. Or maybe she was a reporter like Katie Holmes's character in Thank You for Smoking, and it was all a front so she could get some information on him.

Being on the cover of almost every tabloid magazine for six months after Legends Are Average was released had made him overly paranoid. Because, insisted the devil on his shoulder, a woman with Sarah's looks, who wasn't married, engaged, or in a relationship was blasphemous.

The angel, however, argued that he had nothing to worry about. Sarah was a great person. He thought of the way her eyes had lit up when she told him that she was a teacher and had shared the papers her students had written with him. She was sweet, and he needed someone like her in his life.

So on Tuesday evening, he had called her and asked when a good time was for dinner. She said six the next night was good, and since neither of them were too far from downtown, she would meet him at the park and they could walk.

The restaurant that Sarah took him to was a hole in the wall. Literally, it could have been a gigantic hole in a gigantic wall. Actually, it was more like a basement: dimly lit, tiny windows close to the ceiling, large pipes running from the ceiling to the ground, and dingy table cloths covering the small tables. There were no patrons to be found, and he wondered if it was because no one knew of this place yet. If Chuck was being honest with himself, it looked like this restaurant was violating a dozen health codes, but he didn't say anything. After all, maybe this place was Sarah's little secret, not yet discovered by the hip people of Boulder.

A waitress wandered by and dropped two menus onto their table and then plopped two glasses of water down. She asked, in broken English, if they wanted anything else to drink, and they ordered some beers.

"Okay, so the service isn't that great," said Sarah with an apologetic smile. "But wait till you taste their food."

She seemed a bit nervous, and Chuck couldn't help but find it adorable. It was like she was really hoping to impress him. That was something that had rarely occurred with Jill.

"I'm sure the food will be great." He picked up his menu. It disturbed him that there were no descriptions next to the items.

"You should try their Mongolian beef," she said, not bothering to pick up her own menu.

The waitress returned, and gave them their beers. Chuck ordered the Mongolian beef while Sarah ordered the sesame chicken, and the waitress stalked away. Chuck listened while Sarah told him about her job. While other women, including Jill, would tell their tales with disinterest, Sarah immersed him with her enthusiasm. Her stories were easy to follow. He liked the way she gesticulated fervently and the way her eyes would light up every time she told him about random events that occurred during the school day. His personal favorite story was about a squirrel that had somehow found his way into the classroom.

Chuck grinned. "Do you have story time?"

"Of course! It's the best part of my day!"

"I always loved story time. I remember thinking James and the Giant Peach was the greatest children's book ever."

"Pfft," Sarah scoffed playfully. "The greatest children's book ever is obviously Charlotte's Web."

"I disagree. While it's a great book, it's got nothing on The Trumpet of the Swan. As far as books with talking animals go, that one's the best."

She rolled her eyes and pretended to pack up her purse. "You know what? I think I'm going to go. I don't know if I should be out with someone who thinks Trumpet of the Swan is better than Charlotte's Web."

"Oh, don't do that," said Chuck, putting on a playfully hurt look. "You'd be breaking a lot of hearts by leaving."

"Is that so?"

"Right now, there is a cook in the kitchen who is pouring his heart, soul, and sesame seeds into your chicken. What's he going to think when the waitress returns the dish to him? He'll probably cry for weeks."

"We can't have that, now, can we?"

"Absolutely not."

She pretended to ponder while Chuck smiled at her. He couldn't help it. She was adorable. "Okay, I guess I'll stay. Even if you like Trumpet of the Swan better than Charlotte's Web. But disagree with me again, and I'll leave."

"I'll do my best not to disagree with you, then."

"Good," she said with a wink.

The waitress arrived with their food. When Chuck's plate was roughly placed in front of him, he did his best not to grimace. The food was grey, the vegetables looked faded, and the beef chunks had a rainbow sheen of grease layered over them.

"Looks good," he said, hoping he sounded sincere. Maybe it would taste good. Okay, he hoped that it would taste good.

"Mm hmm."

He picked up his chopsticks, pinched a piece of beef, and took his first bite. Dear Lord! It was terrible. Although he had never chewed on a leather boot before, he was positive that chewing this beef was like chewing on a boot. Apart from the excessive amount of soy sauce, there wasn't much flavor to it at all. While Sarah had been hitting homeruns all night, if this was what she considered great Chinese food, he didn't think he'd be able to date her; no matter how engagingly funny and attractive she was.

He looked up at Sarah and saw that she was grinning at him, her plate of sesame chicken untouched. When he swallowed the horrid piece of beef, her grin became wider, and there was a twinkle in her eye. And that's when he realized, she had just pranked him.

"What do you think?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and washed away the horrible taste with a long sip of beer. "I think that you're extremely evil; especially for a third grade teacher."

She laughed triumphantly. "I told you that I'm not a cheater. I had to endure months of crappy Chinese food before I got to the good."

"Still," he said, taking another swig of beer, "this has got to be the worst Chinese food ever."

"Yep," she said, her grin still wide and her eyes still twinkling. "It's the absolute worst."

He picked his chopsticks up again, ready to pay his dues when Sarah reached across the table and placed her hand on his.

"Oh, God, Chuck! You don't have to eat anymore! Just watching you take that first bite was hard enough. Let's just finish our beers and get out of here."

"Thank God."

She tapped the neck of her bottle against his in a challenge, and they both drank quickly. Memories of doing keg stands in college flooded his mind as he swallowed the last of his beer. He beat Sarah, but just barely as she slammed her bottle down on the table just as he reached for a napkin to wipe his mouth with.

"I'm impressed," he said. She smiled and put some cash down on the table. He reached across to stop her. "Hey, I'll get this."

"No way," she said, gently pushing his hand away. "This was my joke, and it was totally worth it. You can pay for our real dinner."

"Fair enough."

They left the restaurant quickly and began to walk around the town. The next restaurant they went to was great, and Chuck left feeling full and satisfied. Sarah was fantastic. Their conversation was light and fun.

And while Chuck walked her back to her apartment, she boldly wrapped her arm around his. When her head rested on his shoulder, she smelled like summertime, like coconuts and maybe suntan lotion. A grin formed involuntarily on his face, but he made no effort in shedding it.

"Did you always want to be a teacher?" he asked, kicking a pinecone off the sidewalk.

"Not really, no." He felt disappointed when she lifted her head off his shoulder, but pleased when she linked her hand with his. Even when they had been dating for years, it was always Chuck that had to make the first move with Jill. So what Sarah was doing was quite the pleasant welcome. "After I graduated, I went to work for a publishing company. I was pretty much a glorified secretary."

"They're called administrative specialists or assistants now. Come on, Sarah, you gotta be politically correct here!"

He pretended to flash a flustered look at her, and she laughed. "Sorry. I was a glorified administrative specialist. Happy?"

"Yep. You can continue now."

"Anyway, I was working for some muscle car magazine, and I know this is going to be surprising, given the skirt I'm wearing." She gestured to her floral printed Georgette skirt. "But I have no interest at all in muscle cars."

Chuck feigned surprise. "What? So you're not a grease monkey?"

"Sorry to disappoint," she said with a smile and a shrug. "Anyway, I worked with this woman named Laura, and she asked if I could tutor her son. I did, and it was, and I'm sorry for the cliché, rewarding. It really was, though, seeing him so proud of himself whenever he learned how to do something on his own, you know?"

He nodded. "So from that moment on, you wanted to teach?"

"Yep. I quit my job, went back to school, and a few years later, I got this teaching gig here."

"And you're happy?"

She frowned just the slightest bit. "Well, I'm happy with my career choice, if that's what you mean. But my personal life needs a bit of work, I think."

"Oh?"

She shrugged. "It's a long story, I guess. Not one that I should tell on a first date."

"I love long stories, though."

"Oh, I do too," she said with a laugh. "But if I tell you this story now, then what are we going to talk about when we go out again?"

Chuck grinned, happy that she was already thinking about going out for a second date. "So you want to go out again?"

"I guess," she said with a joking exasperation in her voice. "I mean, you asked so nicely."

He laughed. "Okay, then. We'll go out again."

"I'd really like that." She grinned, nodding up to an old, vintage apartment building. It looked nice, he thought, while she began to dig in her purse for her keys. "Well, this is me. So, um, every Friday, Dark Horse—that's a bar, by the way," she added when Chuck scrunched his face in confusion. "Anyway, Dark Horse has live music on Friday nights. It's pretty fun. Do you want to go?"

She looked up expectantly at him, which made his decision more difficult. Going out to a bar on a Friday night in the middle of July meant that there was going to be a lot of people. Drunk people who may have seen the movie were a recipe for disaster, especially since Sarah didn't know exactly who he was yet. It was selfish of him for not telling her, he knew. He really liked her, and he had a lot of fun with her tonight. It was nice having someone treating him like a normal person.

And she looked so hopeful.

"Yeah, sounds great," he said.

"Great." She grinned and played with her keys.

"I had fun tonight, terrible Chinese food notwithstanding."

"I had fun, too. Probably more than you, though," she said with a laugh.

"You do know that I'm going to get you back for that, right?"

"Am I supposed to be scared? Was that a threat?"

"Oh, you're just asking for it now." His gaze fell to her lips.

"No, Chuck," he heard Ellie's voice say inside of his head. "You do not kiss a girl you really like on the first date, regardless of what the movies say. It sends her a bad message."

"But, Ellie! Look at her! She's so cute and it really looks like she wants me to kiss her!"

"I said no!" Mind-Ellie said. "She probably does want the kiss, but what's she going to do when she finds out who you are? Everyone thinks your some sort of man-slut, and while I agree with them to a certain extent, you need to show Sarah that you're not a man-slut!"

"Fine."

"By the way, don't get a Maserati," said Mind Ellie. "I know you want one, but you're living in Colorado now. You're going to mess up the bumper with all those hills."

"Good point," his mind said. "Mind-Ellie, you're smart."

"I know I am. Also, don't forget to call the real Ellie."

He cleared his throat. Great, he was hearing voices now. "Uh, anyway. I should let you go in. School tomorrow, right?"

Sarah nodded. "Thanks again for dinner, Chuck."

"Hey, we're even," he said. "You're the one that paid for the terrible stuff."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She was still playing with her keys and smiling playfully at him.

It was extremely difficult to not stare at her lips. He moved in to give her a hug, and she brought her face up at the same time, and they bumped into each other in an uncomfortable fashion. They took a step back, chuckling awkwardly, and Sarah held out her arms. He went in for the hug.

"Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Chuck."

Sarah had the terrible habit of preparing too early. Ever since she was a child, she would wake up around 5:00 AM. By the time she was ready for school, she would have an extra hour and a half before the bus came to pick her up. It was something that had stuck with her even into her adult life. Whenever she would go out, whether it was for a date or just to meet up with friends, she would always get ready far too early. The worst part of this habit of hers was the times when she'd get a last minute phone call saying that they couldn't make it.

Chuck wasn't due to pick her up for another thirty minutes, and for the last hour, she had examined herself in the mirror far too many times to count. It was one of those things she couldn't explain, just like how she needed to double check all of her kids' answers when she graded their papers. At least she was happy with her hair, makeup, and outfit for the night.

Second dates were crucial for Sarah. The reason for that was because it was usually the second date where guys wouldn't call her back. It wasn't because she wasn't attractive. In fact, to say that she wasn't attractive would make her a liar. But it was because of how "dorky" she was. While most men found her dorky sense of humor adorable at first, by the second date, they would be like, "Okay, can we grow up a bit, please?"

Normally, she wouldn't care what those other men thought. If they didn't like her for who she was, then that was good for her, wasn't it? At least she wasn't wasting her time with them. But she really liked Chuck. He was different from most of the other guys she had dated in the past. His eyes didn't glaze over when she had talked about her job, so that was certainly a plus. Instead, they showed genuine interest—perhaps admiration for her, and she liked that a lot.

There were still a lot of things that she wanted to know about Chuck. The only explanation he gave for moving to Boulder was that he quit his old job, and he wanted to try something new. Something told her that there was more to his story, but she didn't want to pry. God knows that she didn't have the best track record, either. Those stories, she knew, would be shared only if they went on more dates—if they decided to pursue something serious. So she really hoped, since she refused to change who she was, that she wouldn't scare him away with her dorky behavior.

Chuck arrived only a few minutes late, wearing a green and white striped shirt, jeans, and a baseball hat. She couldn't help but feel reassured that Chuck would embrace her dorkiness; especially when he said he had printed out a map of directions to the Dark Horse.

During the drive to the bar, they talked about the kind of music that they liked, and they playfully bickered when one of them would disagree about the other's music selection. Sarah enjoyed their bantering, but something about Chuck was off tonight. It was almost like the first time she had met him at the sports store. His smiles were once again hidden by the clouds, and she couldn't figure out why. Oh, God, she hadn't forgotten to put on deodorant, had she?

"Are you okay?" she asked when he parked his BMW.

"Yeah, I'm fine." His voice was a little too cheerful, and not at all convincing. "One sec, I'll get your door."

She opened her mouth to say that he didn't need to do that, but he had already darted out. It was a sweet gesture, though. In her 28 years of life, not one guy had offered to open the car door for her. As Chuck walked around the car, looking left and right as though he had a feeling that he was being watched, Sarah discretely sniffed her underarms. Yeah, she had remembered to put on her deodorant.

They made their way to the bar, and instead of blaming possible body odor on being the reason that Chuck seemed to be distant, she now thought that maybe she had boogers in her nose. Seriously, what was his deal? He kept looking around, with a look of paranoia on his face. They had barely entered the bar, loud music from the band on stage blaring, when he dropped his head down and lowered his hat.

"Are you a fugitive or something?" she asked, standing on her toes, close to his ear.

He chuckled. "No, definitely not a fugitive. I'm sorry. I'm a little out of sorts today."

"Is everything okay?" she asked with a frown. "I mean, if you don't—"

"No, I want to hang out with you," he said, smiling warmly this time, restoring her confidence.

"Really?"

"Really." He pressed three fingers together and raised his arm. "Scout's Honor."

He grinned at her, and although she wasn't entirely convinced, she took his other hand, hoping that it would comfort him in some way. They went over to the bar. Chuck ordered a pint of Guinness while Sarah ordered sangria. He handed the bartender his credit card to start a tab, and she led him to an open booth.

"So, um…what have you been up to these last couple of days?" she asked loudly.

"Nothing, really," he replied with a shrug. "Oh, I checked out that trail you told me about by the Flat Irons? When we first met?"

"You got a bike?"

"Yep. I got a Kona."

Sarah smiled. "You remembered my suggestion!"

"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug. "That was a very interesting day for me."

"So random people don't come up to you and ask you to try on waders?"

"Oh, they have," he quipped, "but it hasn't happened in years."

She laughed. "So how do you like the bike and trail?"

"Well, the bike's awesome. I mean, I don't know much about bikes, but it's light, and yeah…it's good. The trail was fun, too. I was thinking that if you aren't doing anything this weekend, maybe you wanted to go out to the trails with me?"

Her face warmed, and she doubted that it was because of the alcohol. He pretty much asked her out again, so that was encouraging. It was nice to know that she wasn't the reason he was out of sorts. Maybe he was just having an off day, she thought. Everyone had those.

"Yeah," she replied, grinning. "I'd like that."

After a few more drinks, Chuck seemed more relaxed. He was a great date, she realized. She liked the way he leaned close to her so that he could hear her over the music or so he could be heard. Each time he did, she breathed in his fresh scent. He smelled like soap and she detected the light scent of his cologne. Her ex-fiancé, Peter, always doused himself in strong cologne. It made her head hurt whenever she was with him.

She listened while Chuck gushed about how beautiful the scenery was when he was out on the trail.

"Yeah, it's really beautiful out there, isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, and, I don't know, I just think this place is really great. The sunsets here are amazing!"

She smiled as she envisioned herself watching the sunset with him one day, cuddled up close together.

When they finished their drinks, Chuck walked over to the bar to order another round. Enjoying the easy gait of his steps and the way his jeans hung just so on his waist, she wondered why he was single at 29. In fact, why had he moved to Boulder? He had said he wanted to start over, but why? Sarah sighed. Everyone had their own history, and she would eventually learn more about Chuck's one day. After all, they were supposed to go out again this weekend. It was best to just wait and see.

Chuck came back with their drinks while the band onstage began to play their version of a song she was familiar with. Before he scooted into the booth, she asked, "Hey, do you want to dance?"

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea," he said, looking uneasy. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, you know?"

"Why? Are you a professional dancer or something?"

He laughed. "No. Actually, I should have said that I don't want to traumatize you. Because after you see my terrible dancing, it will be etched in your mind. Always. You'll wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, because you'll have nightmares about my dancing."

"Hey, I'm a terrible dancer, too!" she cried, giggling as she slid out of the booth. She took his hand and pulled him over to the floor, ignoring his protests. "C'mon! Everyone's either too drunk or buzzed to care anyway."

To prove her point, she began to do a terrible version of the Running Man. Chuck laughed, shook his head, and opened his mouth to say something. What he wanted to say, she didn't know, for a young, brunette woman squealed loudly, "Are you Chuck Bartowski?"

Sarah stopped doing the Running Man mid-step, and felt her heart stop beating. Did that woman say what she thought she said? Chuck was Chuck Bartowski? Computer genius, billionaire, and famous playboy Chuck Bartowski? No, he couldn't be. Although she had never seen a picture of the guy, she had been sure that Chuck Bartowski was a short, squat, greasy, younger version of Bill Gates.

But when Chuck squeezed his eyes shut, opening them to give Sarah a mournful look, she knew what the answer was going to be.

"Yeah."

"Holy shit!" the woman cried. "Chuck fucking Bartowski in Boulder fucking Colorado! Wait till my friends hear about this! Can I get a picture?"

She didn't wait for his answer, and instead, she shoved her phone into Sarah's hand and wrapped her arm around Chuck's waist, while others on the dance floor stopped what they were doing, and gaped over at Chuck. He gave her an apologetic look, and Sarah was too stunned to do anything. She stood there, her mouth agape, and holding some girl's camera phone in her hand.

"It's the middle button," said the woman, grinning wildly.

She didn't know what to do. Her body wanted to run away, while her mind kept repeating, "How could you not know that you were going out with Chuck Bartowski, stupid? Stupid! Stupid!" So she took the picture and handed the woman her phone back.

Seemingly satisfied with the way the picture turned out, the woman looked up at Chuck. "Hey, I saw your movie."

"Okay," said Chuck, unable to take his eyes off Sarah.

"Yeah, but what was up with you and Jill? I mean, she said no to your proposal, right?"

Proposal? To Jill? Who the fuck was Jill?

Chuck shrugged. "If you saw the movie, then you saw what happened." His tone was kind, yet it was also icy, if that was possible. "Excuse me."

He placed his hand on the small of her back and gently guided her toward the exit. The entire time, Sarah couldn't look at anything other than him. A billionaire's hand was on the small of her back. She had hugged him the night before. Oh, God! She did the Running Man in front of a billionaire! What the hell was wrong with her?

"I am so sorry about that," he said when they got into his car.

"I…" Sarah trailed off, trying to gather her head. "I just read a pamphlet for Legend Enterprises not two days ago, and I read about how some guy named Chuck Bartowski created some revolutionary software."

"So you knew who I was?"

"I knew you were Chuck, but I didn't know you were Chuck Bartowski. Your picture wasn't on the pamphlet."

"Right. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you before, but—"

"I was picturing some greasy, fat, geeky sort of guy." She remembered reading, "The word "playboy" has been associated with Mr. Bartowski, but the man is all business in the office," in the pamphlet. "And I thought by 'playboy,' they meant, 'Yeah, Chuck Bartowski's rich enough to afford fancy hookers.' Oh, God! What if the people in there think I'm some fancy hooker?"

He gave her a hurt look, which she ignored. She was just freaking out too much.

"Hey," he said, sounding offended.

"And I took you to a Chinese shit hole! I took a fucking billionaire to a Chinese shit hole!" She clutched at her face, breathing very roughly.

There was a famous YouTube video that had been circulating around the Internet about a boy whose mother had cancelled his World of Warcraft subscription. In the video, the boy screamed as though he was possessed by a demon, and flailed so roughly that he could have given Linda Blair a run from her money. At this moment, it took all the strength that she had not to freak out like that boy. It wasn't because she was mad at Chuck. After all, she had never really asked him what his profession was after he had told her that he quit his job in L.A. But it wasn't every day that you found out that the man you were extremely attracted to, and maybe even falling for, was a genius software designer and self-made billionaire.

"I thought it was cute," he said softly. "You taking me to the Chinese shit hole was really cute."

"Don't make fun of me!" she snapped. Cute? What was he? Twelve? As she remembered that it was her idea to prank him, she felt even more stupid than she had before.

"I wasn't!" he cried. "Really, Sarah, it was a great prank."

Sarah groaned and gave him a defeated look. "I'm sorry, it's just…a lot to take in."

"I know. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you who I really was before, but…" His voice had cracked, and it sounded weak. He let out a sigh. "I was selfish, I guess. I'm not what the tabloids say I am, you know? I'm actually pretty shy, so it's rare for a woman to approach me and not know who I am."

"You were in tabloids?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. Of course he was in tabloids. Words like billionaire and playboy were always associated in tabloids. But she never paid any attention to them. In fact, whenever she went to the grocery store and waited in line, she was busy looking at the candy instead of reading the headlines on gossip magazines.

He nodded. "I just really liked you from the get go. You're just…so great, and funny, and you have me hooked. It wasn't just because you didn't know who I was. That was just the cherry on top." Pulling his hat off, he ran his hand through his hair. "And I didn't tell you because I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scaring you away," he replied, giving her a broken look. "I don't have the best reputation."

"I don't know much about you," she admitted, "other than that you're apparently a 'playboy' and you proposed to someone named Jill. Wait—did you propose to Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "No. I didn't propose to her. The Jill I proposed to was…it's a long story."

She wanted to pry, but decided it was best not to. However, it didn't change the fact that she was a bit curious as to why some random woman in a bar would know about a rejected proposal from a software designer. Okay, so she wanted to scope out the competition. "Can you at least tell me if she's like some famous actress or some sort of celebrity?

"I guess she is now," he replied, still looking gloomy.

Whoever this stupid Jill lady was, it seemed like she had hurt Chuck very much if just the mere mention of her name was enough to make him appear dead behind the eyes.

"I was in a documentary," he said. "It's hard to explain, but my friend wanted to film my progress while I was writing the first version of LEOS during our freshman year. And I thought that's what it was going to be about. The exciting world of software design. But he insisted that I let him follow me around, and since I figured, 'Hey, no one's ever going to see this, I might as well let the guy have some fun,' I ran with it."

"Oh." She had a guess as to what he was going to say next.

"Anyway, so this guy, Bryan, he and his film buddies followed me around for years. After awhile, I stupidly forgot about them, because I was so used to having them around. So I let my guard down, and they captured over eight years of my life on tape and edited it down to two and a half hours. After that, Bryan asked me if he could show the documentary at a festival, telling me that it was about how I created the company. Since I trusted him, because he was supposed to be my friend, I said yes. And what the audience saw was…" he broke off and sighed, "the worst parts of me. I wasn't…there are a lot of things that I've done that I'm not particularly proud of, and the documentary focused on almost all of those moments."

He looked out the driver's window, and shook his head to. It was sad how ashamed he looked, and she couldn't imagine how ashamed he felt. After years of hard work to be recognized as a prominent software designer, the thing that people would associate him with was going to be the documentary.

"That's why I didn't tell you that I'm Chuck Bartowski," he said. "I didn't want to scare you away."

The devil on her shoulder told her to run. Chuck Bartowski was nothing but trouble. He hadn't even told her exactly why he was considered a "playboy," which scared her. She had been cheated on by Peter multiple times, and he was most certainly not a billionaire. If she continued dating Chuck, who was to say that he wouldn't cheat on her? In fact, he'd have an easier time than Peter had at getting girls into bed with him. Chuck was way better looking than Peter, and he was a billionaire.

Then the angel on her other shoulder reminded her that if Chuck really was an asshole, then he wouldn't have remembered her name when he saw her a month after they had first met. Not only that, but he remembered the trail and mountain bike she had suggested. He always seemed interested to hear about her life, and he was a great listener. If she asked him if he remembered exactly what Malcolm had answered in his report for which was the better pet, Chuck seemed to be the guy that would say, "He said he likes dogs because you can give them your vegetables and blame your farts on them. Arlene argued that cats are better because their sandpapery tongues could scratch your mosquito bites." He seemed like a genuinely caring guy who just had one bad thing to ruin his reputation.

"Listen, Chuck," she began, her decision made. "I really like you. You seem to be a good guy."

"I try."

"But it scares me that I like you, yet you seem to have this history that a lot of people know about, and I don't even think I've cracked the surface of it." Nervously, she began twiddling her thumbs.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I'm not going to lie, I think it's going to be rough dating me. I come with a lot of baggage, you know?"

"Well, I could be your very own baggage handler." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. That had to be the corniest thing she had ever said in her life, and she had said a lot of corny things.

Chuck blushed the tiniest bit but he smiled warmly at her. "I think that's exactly what I need in my life. My very own baggage handler."

Sarah laughed, although she was still cringing on the inside. "That was such a bad line. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Don't be. It was great."

"So if I were to tell you that I want to continue, uh…do you consider us to be dating?" He nodded, and she felt relieved. "But because I'm human, and I'm curious, if I were to ask you if I could watch the documentary, would that be okay?"

Chuck nodded. "I can't stop you from doing that. It's not my place. But, if we were to continue dating, I'd prefer it if you let me take you out on a couple of more dates before you saw it."

Sarah grinned. "Well, if I wanted to continue dating, I'd say, 'Yes,' right about now, wouldn't I?"

"Yep."

"Well, I guess, I can give you a couple of more dates," she said, taking his hand.

A/N: I promised you guys that there will be MINIMAL angst in this story, but I never said there won't be any angst. In fact, I don't consider this angst. It's more of a conflict, and every story needs some. However, I did promise "ooey-gooey" fluffiness, and I plan on delivering that soon. Thank you for reading!