I don't own Chuck.

Please be aware that this story contains references to torture, and also adult situations (namely sex).

USAF Forward Operating Location, Curaçao, August 2013

Wakefulness came slowly to her, which was strange. She kept her eyes closed, pretending that she was still asleep. Then came the pain, a dull ache throughout her upper body and an aching in her limbs. Finally came memory, the botched operation, their capture, interrogation and torture, rescue. Chuck!

Chuck had been there. Chuck had rescued them. She thought so anyway. Casey had talked about him, making some joke about how God had sent Bartowski to save him before, and then Chuck had been there.

But not the Chuck she remembered. Not the slightly goofy, but cute, cyber nerd who had captured her heart. This Chuck had been confident, competent and ripped. Everything about the old Chuck that had drawn her to him had been present in this one. In spades. Except the hair. She had loved his slightly crazy hair, but actually the new all-business hair had suited the new all-business Chuck.

But he still had the compassion that had drawn her to him in the first place. It was so atypical of the men she came across in her line of work. Some did have it, but it was buried deep, deep down. The fact that Chuck wore it on his sleeve had drawn her in.

In fact, the more she got to know Casey, the more she felt he had a compassionate streak, but it was very well hidden. The second time they'd worked together he was more approachable than he had been when they'd been in Burbank. He had been more open, more trusting than he had been before. But different with her than with the others. She wished he'd been even less trusting with the others - especially that bitch Roberts who had sold them out!

But Casey had supported her on this mission. They both missed Chuck. It seemed strange to be working with Casey without him. But they had worked well together again. And he had gone out of his way to support her through the torture and interrogations. And then Chuck or not-Chuck had arrived.

She hadn't recognised the tall, well built special forces soldier, even when he had said her name. The pain of her injuries had slowed her down a lot and she was really struggling. It was only when Casey gasped out his name that the haze she had been in had lifted slightly, and only when he asked to examine her that she'd even been able to reply.

He'd been ever so gentle in his examination, which had gone some way to convincing her it really was him, and then he had provided clothes so she wouldn't have to be in front of the rest of his team half naked. That was such a Chuck thing to do!

But then the attack came and she'd seen another side of their saviour. He'd been armed and he laid down accurate covering fire. So not like Chuck. But she'd seen his bravery as he'd broken cover to help the injured soldiers, which was like Chuck. She should have been used to it after his continued failure to stay in the car! Then the way he had treated their injuries, gone up on the winch with them even when there was a material risk of being sniped, and the way he'd dealt with them in the chopper. Professionalism, competence, compassion. Wow! And had she mentioned how ripped he was? Double wow! He wasn't Schwarzenegger by any stretch of the imagination, but he had looked great.

Enough wool gathering. It was time to assess the situation.

She was in a bed, slightly propped up, but comfortable. There was a tube taped to her arm, an IV she supposed. She could hear wind and rain howling and banging against the windows of the room she was in and she could smell antiseptic and that hospital smell. That was an improvement on the last time she'd regained consciousness, semi-naked and chained to the wall in a dark, dank dungeon after having the shit kicked out of her.

She opened her eyes a crack. She was in a hospital bed in a cubicle. Her bed was facing closed curtains, presumably leading out into a larger area. Next to it there was a table with a jug and a cup. There was someone sitting with her to her left. Female. Short dark hair. Reading a book. US military camouflage.

Safe.

She pretended to wake up normally. The woman immediately stood up and greeted her. "Ma'am," she smiled, "How are you feeling?" She was young, early 20's, about 5'5, with dark brown hair and slightly Hispanic features.

How was she feeling? Physically…like she'd had the shit kicked out of her. Achy from the electricity. Pained. Tired. Emotionally…wrung out. But better than yesterday. "Better," she allowed, her voice raspy.

"Oh, let me get you some water," exclaimed the woman, moving towards the water jug. Sarah couldn't help but react as she moved forward, somewhere between a flinch and preparing to retaliate. The woman moved back, shocked.

"Sorry," they both exclaimed. Sarah managed a small smile of encouragement, the woman a weak one of her own, and she poured out some water for Sarah and handed her a glass with a straw. The water was cool and refreshing. Her throat was parched from lack of fluid and hoarse from screaming, but it was reacting well to the water.

"Thanks," she told the woman, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh, sorry," the woman exclaimed, "I'm Zoe. I'm a medical assistant. The Staff Sergeant asked me to sit with you until you woke up."

"How long?" Sarah managed.

"Oh, it's about 10.00 now. You got to us about 02.00."

"Where?" Someone had said something about Curaçao, but she wasn't tracking well by then and it was worth making sure.

"You're at a USAF base on Curaçao – in the Caribbean," the woman - Zoe - answered. Sarah lay back with a sigh. Safe. Zoe continued, "Your medic asked me to wake him up when you woke, so why don't I leave you with your water and I'll just go and get him?"

Sarah wasn't sure that she was ready to find out just then whether the man she had regretted leaving all these years had really saved her life, but the woman was already on her way. She took stock of her situation. She was wearing the oversized T-shirt that she had been given the other day, but was completely naked apart from that.

Zoe came back into the room. "He asked me to take you for a shower and then he'll come back and stitch up some of your cuts," she told Sarah.

A shower sounded like a great idea. She must look and smell foul. She struggled to sit up and Zoe was at her side warily but immediately. She smiled slightly at the woman, girl really, and managed to control her inclinations while Zoe gently helped her sit up. Her stomach muscles were protesting and her ribs hurt a lot. She bore the pain silently and Zoe helped her swing round and out of bed, pushing over some paper slippers for her to slip her feet into. She held still for a second as dizziness swept over her.

"OK?" Zoe asked after a few seconds.

"OK," she replied, so they set off.

Medevac plane, Curaçao August 2013

She looked up as Casey sat down next to her, groaning as he jarred his injured side. She was struggling to control her tears. The big man gave her a melancholy smile, "Fucking Bartowski, huh?"

She smiled sadly, as they closed the plane doors and the engines started to spool up, and he continued. "Him and his damn sister, always getting under your skin!"

She sympathised with that opinion. Certainly interacting with Chuck and Ellie had changed her as a person, as an agent. She had come to trust both of them, which was why leaving them both behind had been such a wrench. She had mourned for those friendships more than she had ever mourned for any personal relationships in her life. People had come and gone from Sarah's life for as long as she had lived, but she had always been able to push through and reinvent herself after she left a situation in the past. Not this time. This time she had keenly felt the loss of the Bartowski's in a way she had never felt anyone's absence before. Sure, she missed her Mom, but her Mom hadn't really been in her life for a long time. She had never felt that easy acceptance of her as a person, before or since Burbank.

And now Chuck Bartowski had stormed back into her life. But not cute, needy, underconfident Chuck, who required regular reassurance, but had so much potential. This Chuck was different. This Chuck had fulfilled his potential in so many ways. But was still the wonderful, modest, warm, kind and empathetic man he'd been before. And she'd had to leave him.

She'd had to leave him again after the bombshell that he'd never forgotten her, or them. That he'd kept a place in his heart for them, even though they'd left him and had had no more contact with him. He'd put together a royalty fund for them. He'd cared enough about his former partners that he'd looked for a way to support them financially after their careers finished.

She didn't feel she'd ever be able to communicate what that gesture meant to her. She'd managed a feeble "thank you" as he fled the room, embarrassed after his confession, but as Casey and her had stared at each other in shock after the revelation, she had felt a deep-seated feeling of belonging of a type she hadn't felt for five years.

A feeling that someone cared for you, not because of what you did, but because of who you were. She hadn't felt that feeling with anybody else in her life apart from the Bartowskis and her mother. And she realised now that she'd missed that feeling. She wanted it back.

She could tell from Casey's face that he also felt something that he couldn't, almost certainly wouldn't, put into words. Although he was more talkative with her these days, he wasn't someone who ever talked about their feelings if he could avoid it.

It was trust. She realised that now. Chuck and Ellie trusted her, and she'd trusted them, she'd trusted him. Sarah Walker, the most damaged person in the world, had been able to trust Chuck Bartowski. Sure, she trusted Casey and Carina, her best friends in her world, up to a point. She probably trusted Casey the most. And wasn't that a revelation, given how they'd started out? But Chuck had showed that she could trust him all the way. He had always been there for her when he was the Intersect and was even there for her now. At the worst point in her life, when she was beaten, tortured, close to giving up hope, he had been there. And even afterwards… As Zoe had taken her to the shower that morning she couldn't help but notice how Chuck's sleeping area and his weapons were between her and Casey and the door. The protectee really had become the protector.

She had remembered earlier how in Burbank all those years ago Chuck had asked for her real name. Her name which she kept so secret. That only two people in the world knew. The people who had given it to her. Sarah Walker didn't trust easily, but for the man who allowed her to trust, she could give something. Her real name was a big thing for her. She hoped that Chuck would understand that. It was all she had to give at this moment in time. But hopefully there would come a time when she'd be able to give him more. Because one thing was certain - she wasn't giving up on Chuck Bartowski again.

Washington DC, August 2013

Spies aren't supposed to fall in love. That's what they said. She'd said that, as well. At least until she'd met Chuck Bartowski. She'd fallen in love with him of course. Hook, line and sinker. But he was her asset, and she had to remain professional.

She looked around her apartment sadly. Her empty, spartan apartment. She spent more time here now, but it still held no atmosphere. Chuck and Ellie's apartment in LA held a hundred times more atmosphere than her apartment had. It was a home. This place was not.

But you didn't have to go, did you? The mission came to an end. You could have at least tried to have a relationship. The familiar argument came to her again. And, like all the times before, she didn't really have an answer for herself. She'd been scared. Scared that if Chuck found out about her past then he would reject her. And that rejection would hurt even more because of who Chuck was. Who he'd become. So she'd run. She'd had the date with him that she'd promised. And she'd resolved that that was how she'd remember him.

And she had remembered him, but as the time since she'd last seen him stretched on and on, she knew she'd made a mistake. Because she'd never met anyone else like Chuck Bartowski since then. Just like she'd never met anyone like him before either. And she knew that she probably would never meet anyone else like him. And she'd walked away from him.

For the last five years she'd just got on with her work and left her life on hold, much like it had been before, but it had hurt more this time. Before Chuck she hadn't known that there were people out there who could care for you and who you could care for in return. She hadn't known that there were people who could make you feel human. Who could make you feel at all. Now she did. And she missed that feeling.

Then Casey had come back into her life, dredging up all of those feelings but also bringing an element of what they'd all had in Burbank. An element of belonging. And then they'd been captured, and in what she could admit now was one of the worst moments of her life, he had come to save her. Chuck Bartowski.

Sarah didn't mind admitting that in that moment, just before the explosion and subsequent rescue, she'd been as close to giving up as she ever had. She didn't mind admitting it now, after she'd discussed it with Felipe. The old Sarah would never have admitted it. But the new Sarah could.

After Burbank, the old Sarah would have gone back to her life of assassinations and missions and somewhere along the line she would have screwed up and died. When she left Burbank, when Graham was killed, the new Sarah knew she needed to reach out to someone. With Graham gone and Chuck gone, she needed someone. And that was what saved her.

One of the analysts she'd worked with in the past, a former agent, had recommended Felipe Lopez. A psychiatrist who had helped her put her past behind her. And, at the end of the day Felipe had saved Sarah as well. Because, after leaving Burbank, Sarah had been a mess. And if she'd gone out into the field like that, she would have ended up very dead.

And speaking to Felipe had saved her twice. Because the new CIA Director, Eve Anderson, wanted to put her own stamp on the Agency. And she wasn't overly impressed with the way that Graham had run it. Neither was Sarah, once Felipe had guided her through some of her memories. So, after her post-Burbank operational leave and after the extra leave she'd taken at Felipe's behest, she'd asked to see the new Director.

Langley, Virginia July 2008

Anderson's reputation preceded her. A respected field agent in her time, she'd taken time out to have kids in her thirties and then gone back to the Directorate of Intelligence for the rest of her career. Although a political appointee, she was a relatively rare example of someone putting a round peg into a round hole.

Sitting nervously outside Anderson's office she'd been surprised when the Director had come to get her personally, rather than calling her assistant.

"Agent Walker, please come through." The Director was a tall woman, about 5'10 with straight chestnut hair and brown eyes. Her resemblance to Ellie Bartowski had been discombobulating. But she didn't expect that Ellie owned any red power suits, which was what the Director was wearing today.

She invited Sarah in and guided her to the break-out area of her office. Sarah took a seat and, after a quick scan of the office, gave the Director her full attention.

"Well, Agent Walker," Anderson started, "You have an interesting record."

Was that a bit of a smile on her face? Apart from that, Anderson was hard to read. "Yes Ma'am," she replied, wondering whether Graham had kept her unredacted record or had removed certain bits of it.

The Director seemed to know what she was thinking, "Oh, don't worry," she told Sarah, "I've seen all of it," she paused, "it was a bit of a surprise that you asked to see me. I've had to force most of Graham's hard liners to meet me."

Sarah gave a wry grin, "If you've read my record Ma'am, I'm sure you can appreciate that I'm not one of Graham's hard liners."

"Agreed, Agent Walker. But it's very much a record of two halves, wouldn't you say? Pre-Intersect and Post-Intersect?"

The Director let that hang out there. Sarah smiled internally. I wouldn't want to play poker with this woman. But she was Sarah's new boss and if she wanted to continue to have a career in the CIA then she needed to negotiate her way through this interview.

"That's fair, Director," she replied, "But even before that I wasn't quite the hardass that my reputation suggests."

"No, you were better than that."

What? "Er, sorry?"

"How old are you Walker? Twenty-eight? Two intelligence stars. Plus what you managed to accomplish in Burbank. I'd say that was pretty fucking amazing!"

"I had help in Burbank, Director. It was a team effort," she tried to explain.

"I'm aware of that Agent Walker," Was that a smile on Anderson's face? "Both your and Agent Casey's reports made that abundantly clear, and it seems that your asset actually was an asset." That was definitely a smile.

"Yes, ma'am, he was," she allowed a small smile of her own.

"I probably ought to make you aware that I knew both Stephen Bartowski and his wife Mary, so I was a bit surprised to find out the identity of The Intersect." The "was it a smile" had now turned into a grin.

"You did Ma'am?" she gasped.

"Yes, they were good people. It seems their kids are too."

"They are Ma'am. Brilliant people." Just talking of Chuck and Ellie gave her a warm feeling.

"Which makes it all the more nuts that Graham ordered the removal of the Intersect before the Beta version was up and running," now she wore a frown.

"If I may Director?" Sarah wondered if this was a good idea, but at the look of encouragement, she continued, "Director Graham never rated Chuck. He and Director Beckman always treated him like a servant at best, a particularly irritating pet at worst. They didn't understand how smart he was, and they certainly didn't see his ability to think outside the box."

"Yes, I agree," Anderson replied, "Certainly that comes very clearly out of your reports.

"Anyway," she continued, "reminiscing about my old friends' family isn't why you asked to see me. What can I do for you Agent?"

That was clever. She'd relaxed Sarah and drawn her out by getting her to speak about Burbank, and then slipped the rapier in. Sarah's opinion of Anderson as a poker player went up a notch.

But she had asked for this meeting, and now she needed to explain herself.

"Director," she replied, "I don't know if you're aware, but I've been seeing one of the CIA psychiatrists?"

Of course she was aware – they reported to her after all. "Yes, I know," replied Anderson, gesturing for her to continue.

"He's helped me to understand my feelings on some of the things that I've done in the past. One of the things that we've talked about a lot is how I feel about killing people. Particularly in cold blood." She paused, thinking about Chuck and his views on killing. They were, after all, what made her approach Felipe in the first place. She knew she'd run away from Burbank and she'd done that because she couldn't face her past. If she could face her past, maybe she could approach Chuck again. She knew now it wouldn't be a quick fix. It could take her years to get over everything she'd done but Felipe was helping her, one bit at a time. Which made what she was about to ask very important.

"I'd like to request that I not be sent on any more assassination missions. I- I don't think I could do it any more."

She stopped, looking at her Boss's face. This was it. This would determine whether she'd have a career at the CIA after this interview.

"Well," the woman's poker face disappeared, as if it had never been there. "That is a surprise." She smiled. A genuine broad smile. This time the sides of her eyes crinkled and her face lit up. "I'm pleased. It looks like you'll be staying with the CIA after all, Agent Walker," a pause, "I took this meeting out of respect for your record, but fully expected to have to wash you out. I'm glad you proved me wrong.

"My CIA won't be as heavy on the wet work as Graham's. The world's changed. We have a difficult job in the Middle East and elsewhere, but we'll be doing more watch and listen work rather than being a bull in a China shop. We need to build up our networks again, and clean up our existing problems, particularly internally."

She took a deep breath, as though arranging her thoughts, "We need you in Spain. There's a real issue there with Islamic terrorism and we have a lead. We need you to go undercover to try and infiltrate a drug and human trafficking ring which has links to Al Qaeda. I didn't know who we were going to put in there. Now I do. Report to the DDO for the details of your assignment." Anderson rose to her feet, coming around her desk to shake Sarah's hand, "Good luck Agent Walker."

So she'd gone off and infiltrated the trafficking ring, and after quite a bit of time had managed to blow their links to Al Qaeda clean open. And after that she'd worked in the Balkans, and after that France, the UK and then in Venezuela, slowly building back her credibility with the Agency, and with herself. She'd killed. Of course she had. It came with the job after all. But she'd never killed in cold blood. And she'd saved many, many lives along the way. And she thought that Chuck would be proud of her. She was very nearly even proud of herself.

But she'd never expected to see him again. And then, there he was, saving her life again. And asking nothing in return. Showing that he was always thinking of her and Casey, even after so long. And this time, this time she wasn't prepared to let him go. This time, by God, she'd fight for him.

Washington DC August 2013

"Walker, secure." She knew who it was before answering the phone.

"Casey, secure."

"How're you doing?" she asked her erstwhile partner.

"Better," he replied, "but I hate physios!"

"Yeah, know how that one feels," she agreed.

"You?" he asked.

"Had to see the shrink. Ribs are better and I'm back to training."

"Good to hear," she could almost hear the smile in his voice, "So, I asked a friend to do some checking on our mutual friend and his business," he remained vague, even on a secure line. It was so Casey. "Oh, by the way. Did you hear he was confirmed for a second Bronze Star? For Afghanistan." She could again hear the positivity in his voice. This time it sounded almost like pride.

She was proud too. She'd make sure she looked at the medal citation as soon as she got off the phone. "No, I didn't hear that."

"Check the citation," he told her, "You'll recognise who it's about."

"Don't tell me? He didn't stay in the car?!"

"Something like that." She could hear the barely concealed laughter in his voice, but then it changed and she could imagine him setting his face for business as she'd seen him do so many times. "The trusts were there, just as he told us." Now Casey sounded emotional, choked up. "They're worth seven million dollars. Each." He choked out.

"What?" Seven million dollars? SEVEN MILLION DOLLARS? That idiot had given them seven million dollars. Each! And he hadn't made any fuss about it. Just walked out of the room. Sure, Sarah had money put away for a rainy day. In case she got burned or something. But maybe a few hundred thousand. Not SEVEN MILLION DOLLARS! And all she'd done in return was give him her name.

"Right? I nearly shat myself!" Casey had carried on, not realising her mind was elsewhere. "And that's not all of it. They're doing a new release later this year and we get royalties on that as well. He's already set it up, according to the legal documents I was shown. My other friend saw a plan – the money that's in the trusts is expected to double."

"Double?" She couldn't have heard him right.

"Yep." He popped the "p".

"Oh my God."

"Quite. It's a very "him" thing to do isn't it?"

"Yes," she was still stunned, but yes, it was a very Chuck thing to do. There was one question, "What about him?"

"Wondered how long you'd take to get around to that," she could almost see his shit-eating grin, "He got fifty million for the game. But…" and here he paused, "he's already donated fifteen million of that to charity…anonymously."

That was such a Chuck thing to do too. "Walker, are you still there?"

"Yes, Casey. Uh, bit stunned. Thanks for the info though."

"Sure, speak soon."

"Yeah, later."

Washington DC September 2013

"Casey, secure." He sounded busy, but his voice was open. She could almost picture him pushing back from the desk and putting his feet up on it.

"So, if I wanted to track down a mutual acquaintance, how do you think I should go about it?"

"Humpf," came the grunt followed by the knowing response, "I was expecting you to call before now." She wished she could wipe off the shit-eating grin she knew was on his face.

"Yeah, well no-one ever said I was smart."

"Not in this, that's for sure. He's on leave at the moment. I checked. But I'll see if I can't narrow it down for you."

"You checked?"

"I've been checking. I was expecting your call sooner, after all."

It was five weeks since the rescue and only one thing had been on her mind for practically the whole time. Chuck. Seeing him again had brought all the old feelings to the surface. But it was different this time. They were both older. They'd changed, but in all the ways that counted they were the same.

She wasn't vain but she'd wondered if he'd still find her attractive now she was older. But it had been very clear he did. Even beaten to shit he'd still liked her. Still thought she was pretty. She'd worried that he'd moved on. But he'd made it very clear he hadn't. In fact they were both stuck in this relationship limbo. Both knowing that they could never beat what they had, so not trying. She owed it both to herself and to him to try and give it a go. And this time she was going to get it right.

The call came the next morning.

"He's in Miramar Beach, Florida. Get yourself there and I can get you his location real time." A pause. "Good luck, Sarah. Bring our boy home."

Miramar Beach, Florida September 2013

After the talk on the beach and their kiss they went back to his room. And what they did there totally rocked her world.

"I want you to know that I don't make a habit of taking a woman to my room on the first date," he told her playfully as they got into the hotel lobby, "But I guess since officially it's our third date I'll give you a bye!"

They had started ripping each other's clothes off as soon as they got through the door but then he surprised her, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. As she relieved herself of her bra he unstrapped the holster for her throwing knives from her thigh with a grin.

Then he had started literally worshipping her body. That was the closest description she could come to. With all her partners before it had literally just been about intercourse. The act. Clothes off. Bang. But not Chuck. He kissed and nipped all over her body, paying special attention to her breasts and nipples, which practically drove her mad. Then he started going south, past the sensitive skin on the sides of her stomach, onto her legs, her inner thighs (who knew?). And then he went down on her.

It was like no feeling she'd ever had before and she climaxed practically immediately. But he didn't stop, despite her moans. He used his lips and his tongue to bring her to climax again, pulling back a bit just after, as though he realised she was sensitive. All the time he made enthusiastic and appreciative noises and his hands roamed her body, clenching her breasts and ass cheeks, magnifying the sensations she was already feeling.

And then he added in his fingers. Flicking over her clit and then inserting one and then two at a time and making a come hither motion while he still licked and sucked around the periphery. She had the most intense climax she had ever had.

And then he finally put her out of her misery, moving up to lie beside her. When he took his fingers out of her and put them in his mouth she practically came again and then his mouth was on top of hers and she could taste herself on him and she devoured him, and then he was at her centre demanding entry, and then he was inside her, and then it was primal.

Afterwards they lay on the bed. Her hands and feet were still tingling. He hugged her against him, her head on his chest and his arm around her possessively, and they slept.

They slept right through. For the first time in a long time she had no nightmares. She woke quickly, conditioned by a lifetime of spying. His hands were still around her, her head resting on his comfortable shoulder. The room was as it had been last night. She was aware that someone was looking at her and opened her eyes and tilted her head to see him watching her. The feeling of belonging was so strong for her she almost didn't catch her breath.

She said the first thing on her mind, "That was amazing last night. I've never felt anything like that before."

He smiled gently at her, "It's the difference between having sex and making love, honey." He paused, cupping her cheek with his hand, "When you're comfortable enough with someone to lower your barriers, when you totally trust them with you and your body, when you truly love them. It's intimacy."

That was the word. It felt intimate. She'd climaxed before during sex; not as often as she'd like, but she had. But never like that. Chuck was only the second man to ever go down on her and the first, one of her boyfriends at school, had only stayed for about 20 seconds and clearly hadn't liked it if the expression on his face was anything to go by! But Chuck had stayed down there for what felt like an eternity, making appreciative noises and really enjoying the pleasure he was giving her.

"Well if that's the way it's gonna be in future I might have to keep you around," she told him jokily.

He grinned, "Well, I'm glad I passed my audition."

How could Jill ever walk away from this? she wondered. What a moron. Although she supposed she'd walked away from this as well. I could've been having this for the last five years, she reflected. Oh well, more fool me. One thing was for certain, she wasn't giving it up now. She noticed that Chuck looked pensive.

"What's up?" she demanded.

He looked a bit nervous, "I want to tell you something, and I don't want you to interrupt. I want you to let me get it out, OK?" he told her.

What was this? "OK," she replied nervously.

"After you and Casey left from Curaçao, I was sitting on the beach drinking my Mojito – and, by the way – we are so going back there on holiday at some point! Wow!" She didn't miss the warm feeling that passed through her at the thought of going on holiday with him.

"Anyway, I was pondering on the last, well second to last, thing you said to me. I was so, so touched that you and Casey trusted me enough to tell me your real names, you especially. I was speechless."

She had noticed that, and revelled in it. She had been sorry that he hadn't returned her final "I love you", but it had been written all over his face how he felt about her.

He continued, "But the more I think about it, I feel that I don't care what your name was in the past because to me you're Sarah Walker, my kick-ass, ninja spy girl. What you did in the past is irrelevant to me. It's who and what you are now." As she went to speak he held up a hand, "Uh huh, you promised, remember?" She subsided, and he continued, "I know you feel you've done some bad things in the past, but I understand you so much better now than I did then.

"I've done some bad things as well. I've killed people. And I'm not proud. In fact, I still feel kind of shitty. But I've only ever killed people to protect or help others. For the greater good. In the military I follow orders because I have to assume that my CO has the moral authority to give them, and that's what you do and did. You don't go off killing people willy nilly. You've killed people who you've been ordered to kill. For the most part those were bad people, some you probably didn't know about. But you've followed orders because you've assumed your superior had the bigger picture.

"And do you know what I know Sarah? You've got the biggest heart of anybody I've ever come across. You protected me for a year. You put yourself between bullets and knives, you put yourself in line for torture if you got captured. And nobody will ever know about that apart from you, Casey and me. You didn't need plaudits, you just got on with your job. You are the bravest person I know, bar none. What you did in the past is irrelevant to me. I know who you are. And that's why I love you." He paused, tears in his eyes now, "I just wanted to say that."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know if she even could answer. Her own tears had started midway through his speech, and she couldn't stop them. Her past had always been a big concern for her in a relationship, but in one fell swoop he had taken the bottom out of all of her long-held worries.

Without warning he picked her up and swivelled her so she was sitting on his knee, perpendicular to him, with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Then he wrapped her up in a tight hug.

"And by the way," he told her, "When you're ready to talk about it? I'm here. I will always be here for you."

If she could cry any harder, she would have at that revelation. "I love you," was all she managed to choke out.

"I love you too," he told her, and just held her til she recovered.

Chicago October 2013

"Are you ready?" There was an element of teasing in his voice because he knew how nervous she was, and he had spent all day telling her that she didn't have to be.

"Yeah," she couldn't help the tremor in her voice.

"And you've got your ear plugs and your vest?" Now he was teasing.

She turned to glare at him, "Why would I need a vest?"

He looked at her, fake-sadly, "It's definitely been five years. You do realise that when she sees you, she's gonna hug you to within an inch of your life don't you?"

She wasn't so sure. After all it was her that had run away from them. Run away from her burgeoning friendship with the only non-spy female friend she'd ever had.

"Hey," Chuck reached out to cup her cheek with his hand, "Don't worry, they're gonna love you," he tried to reassure her, "Everyone else did, didn't they?"

Which was true, because all his other friends had been totally supportive of their relationship and Chuck's decision to leave the military. Even Matt and Livvy Todd. They had gone round to dinner there the day after getting back from Miramar Beach, when Chuck had told Papa Bear of his decision to leave the USAF.

She had been received into the Todd's happy, boisterous household like she'd always been there. Matt had met them at the door, welcomed them in and taken them through to the kitchen where Livvy was cooking. He had started to introduce Sarah when Livvy turned round.

"Oh my God, you're Sarah!" The woman had gasped.

"That's what I just said," her husband had protested plaintively.

"No, you idiot!" his wife told him, "She's Sarah. Chuck's Sarah."

"Eh?" he questioned, as his wife reached up and smacked him upside the head.

"Matthew Ian Todd! How could you be so dense? Chuck's Sarah. From the photo."

Matt had looked at her with slowly dawning understanding as she looked on totally perplexed, and then Livvy had literally teleported from where she was to put her arms around Sarah. It wasn't an Ellie hug, but it was a welcoming, familiar, kind hug.

When the woman looked at her she had tears in her eyes, "I'm so happy for you," she told her warmly, "And for you," she said turning to Chuck and wrapping him up in a gentle, familiar hug.

"Thanks Livvy," her boyfriend had told her. "Maybe now you understand my decision?" he had looked across at his mentor.

"I do now," the big man replied, holding out his hand to Sarah, "Looks like you're gonna be family," he told her, clasping her hand warmly and then pulling her into a hug of his own, "Chuck's had my back for years, and I've had his. We told him ages ago that our family was his. He's always missed you. Right from the off.

"Livvy called him on it not long after we got to know him, and he showed us your picture. I can't believe I didn't recognise you – I've seen your picture stuck to his bunk enough times." It warmed her heart to know that Chuck had kept a picture of her with him all these years, just as she had a picture of him at the bottom of her travelling bag. Suitcases changed but that picture was a constant in her life.

The evening had been a celebration of friendship and family and Papa Bear had even brought out a bottle of Champagne to celebrate and toast their future. He had confided in her later, while she was helping him with the washing up, that he and Livvy had planned to try to persuade Chuck to stay in the military, but that seeing Chuck and Sarah together, they could see that their relationship was what was best for him.

The rest of the meetings with Chuck's USAF friends had gone much the same way. Disappointed to lose a member of their team, but happy that their friend had re-discovered someone he'd really cared about.

Which had led them here. To the family that she and he most cared about. And why she was more nervous than she'd been since she turned up out of the blue at Miramar Beach.

"Come on," he told her, grasping her hand, "stewing about it in the car isn't going to get us anywhere." He squeezed her hand, got out of the car and went round it to wait on her, as she joined him and they walked across to the front door of a nice mid-sized home in a respectable Chicago suburb.

"Very 2.4 children, isn't it?" she mused.

"2.4? What do you mean?" he asked, not understanding.

She smiled at him. "It's something my colleague from MI6 used to say. It means normal, average. The average birth rate in the UK used to be 2.4 children per couple. Hence, 2.4 children."

"Oh, I understand," he told her as they reached the threshold. She automatically tucked herself slightly behind him as he reached up to ring the bell.

"Come in Chuck. It's open!" came the call from inside, so they headed into a wide hall with a set of stairs half way along and three doors on various walls.

"Hi Uncle Chuck!" A small brown-haired missile seemed to home in on Chuck from the door at the end of the corridor, wrapping its arms around his legs.

"Hi young Padawan," her boyfriend replied, leaning down to pick the five year old up, "Hey, you got big."

"Yeah, Mommy won't pick me up any more and Daddy's got a bad back," the little girl complained, then looked at Sarah for the first time, "You're really pretty."

"Thanks," she told the little girl, smiling as best she could through her nervousness. She could see Ellie in the child – her nose and hair, but she had Devon's eyes.

"Sorry," Ellie's voice came from the door at the end of the hall, and she felt a thrill go through her as she heard her friend's voice after so long, "I was just finishing up Tony's supper, and I had to get the food away from him otherwise he'd be wearing most of it by the time we got back. I'm dying to meet you…" she tailed off.

"Sarah….? Oh my God! It is you! SARAH!" Chuck managed to get him and Clara out of the way as sixty kilograms of Ellie collided with Sarah at a rapid pace. Sarah was hard-pressed to stay on her feet as she took the impact and then she was wrapped up in an Ellie hug. "Oh Sarah, thank God!" Ellie cried into her.

"Sarah? Awesome!" Came from the top of the stairs as Devon stood there, buttoning his shirt. He shot down the stairs, intent on joining the group hug, as Chuck looked on laughingly.

"Uh, Ellie?" gasped Sarah, "Can't breathe." Now Chuck really was laughing but Sarah couldn't give him the glare he deserved because she had an armful of crying Ellie.

There was a small give as Ellie let up the pressure minutely, but she didn't let go. By now, Devon was hugging both of them, laughing.

"I told you you should have brought a vest!" Chuck laughed from beside her.

That finally caused Ellie to disengage and she swung round to face her brother. "Charles Irving Bartowski!" she thundered, ready to let him have it.

But he was saved, "Mommy?"

Realising she was scaring her daughter, still being carried by Chuck, she immediately deflated, "Don't worry honey," she told the little girl, "Your nasty uncle kept the fact that he was back with Auntie Sarah a secret from me. Don't think this is over Little Brother," she informed him in a menacing voice, before turning to her daughter again, and continuing more gently, "Now let me introduce you properly to your Auntie Sarah."

"So, how did you two get back together?"

It was later that same evening. The kids were in bed. They'd hung out for a couple of hours with Clara after Tony had been put down but she could tell that Ellie was dying to have a serious conversation with her and she hadn't even waited to sit down again after putting Clara to bed.

Chuck and her looked at each other. "Well, we sort of bumped into each other…" he tailed off as she put her hand on his.

"I think we're past that, honey," she told him, "I think we should tell them the truth." He didn't know but she'd received permission from Graham to tell Ellie that she was a CIA officer last time. She hadn't told Ellie the whole truth, preferring to keep some in reserve in case she needed it, but she'd told Ellie enough to assuage her conscience and ensure that the other woman, who she'd come to consider a friend, wouldn't worry about her.

"All of it?" he asked quietly, goggling.

"I'll make it easier," Ellie told them, coming to sit next to Devon on the sofa and picking up her glass of wine, "You didn't take a sabbatical to come to Burbank, did you Sarah? You were still working with the Government when we knew you before?"

Nobody ever said Ellie was stupid. She looked at Ellie questioningly.

"I've had a long time to think about it," the older woman told her, "I thought about all the little things – the on-again, off-again relationship, the Porsche and the Wienerlicious, the hotel. You were here to protect Chuck…"

"You're right," she confirmed, "I can't tell you why, but for a period Chuck was a person of interest and I and another agent were sent to protect him…"

"John Casey was the other wasn't he?" This time it was Devon, which was a surprise. She must have shown her surprise because he smiled at her, "We talked about it. A lot."

Chuck answered for her, "He was."

"So…?" Ellie brought them back to the matter at hand.

She reached out for Chuck's hand. This was going slightly off piste but hell, these were her friends and she hoped they may one day be her in-laws. He grasped her hand gently, "Chuck saved my life," she stated baldly. Then continued, ignoring their gasps, "An operation went wrong and he was the medic on the team that was sent to rescue us." She wouldn't mention anything about Fulcrum. They didn't have a need to know. "Afterwards we got talking and we realised we still cared for each other."

"So you're why he's leaving the USAF?" Ellie asked her.

Chuck fielded that one, "No. I'd decided to leave anyway," he told his sister, "But she is why I'm going to live in DC."

"DC?"

"Yeah, Sarah has an apartment in DC," explained Chuck, squeezing her hand gently.

Devon and Ellie smiled at each other, "So what are you gonna be up to Chuckster?"

"I'm gonna be a paramedic Devon," her boyfriend explained, "She can work on saving the world and I'll join you guys and heal it. I'll still stay on in the National Guard for a few years just in case I'm needed but, to all intents and purposes, I'll be a civilian again." She noticed Chuck didn't talk about going to OCS.

The day after dinner with the Todd's, Matt had approached him with the proposal of switching to the National Guard rather than leaving the Air Force altogether. Chuck's mentor had made an engaging case. "Chuck, you've built up this tremendous base of experience and, even though you're a California boy, you're still good people! The type we need to keep in the Air Force. In Pararescue. Please think about staying in and, if you do, go to OCS." Chuck had been shocked by that, but had promised to consider it. She had been supportive of Matt's proposal. She was proud of what Chuck had achieved, and she felt serving in the Guard would be perfect for him – still allowing him the camaraderie of the military but able to do a civilian job as well. She was snapped out of her musings by Ellie.

"I'm so proud of you little bro'," Ellie told him, coming over and pulling him into a hug, "It's a long way from the Buy More! And you," she continued bestowing a much gentler hug on Sarah, "Thanks for coming back to us, and thanks for caring."

"I've always cared Ellie," she told the woman she thought of as a sister, "I've always cared for all of you." No lies there. This was the family she'd always wanted. And now she had it again.

A/N1 If you're thinking this story is a bit gappy, it's a companion piece/sequel to Chuck vs The Green Feet. I didn't want to re-write stuff I'd already written in there, so you probably want to read that one as well. In that story, Chuck had the Intersect removed just before the Beta Intersect was due to go online and the team was wound down and all went their separate ways.

A/N2 For the reviewer of the last chapter of Chuck vs The Green Feet who asked for a reunion with Ellie, I was way ahead of you - hope you enjoyed it!

OCS is Officer Candidate School. As an NCO Chuck can follow an accelerated route to becoming an officer in the Air Guard.

DDO is Deputy Director for Operations, a senior CIA role reporting directly to the CIA Director.