An: Hello readers! Guess what? This is the last chapter of part one of the Chuck/SPN crossover universe! Sad, but hey, it was a nice ride. It only gets better from here. So enjoy this!

Read and Review please!!

Chapter 10-Epilouge, "Carry On Wayward Son."

"Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son
They'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more," –Carry On Wayward Son, Kansas

~*~*~*~*~*~~

Chuck woke hours later, naked and wrapped in the covers of the bed. A chink of what lay outside was visible between the half opened blinds: It was the violet almost black twilight that colored the sky, and everything was quiet expect for Sarah's slow, deep breathing. Chuck glanced at her sleeping form, marveling in her ability to look beautiful without even being conscious of it. His arms were fastened around her in a protective manner; he rested his chin in the crook of her shoulder. Inhaling her scent, he smiled and no longer felt the loneliness that had plagued him for most of his life.

As he remained in this embrace, Chuck let his eyes travel around the circumference of the room. He looked up at the shadowy ceiling, not really bothered that there were cobwebs hanging from the busted fan. Less than a week ago, he had been in the middle of a torrential storm, sitting cooped up in the Buy More as his life settled into a depression he couldn't shake. It seemed like a lifetime away. Now he was in the Midwest, in some dingy motel with hardly anything to his name. All except for the woman who loved him enough to travel to the ends of the earth and bring him back; she knew who he was—at least for the most part, and she cared for him all the same.

He wondered what was going to happen now. Staring fixed at the ceiling, he thought about the apocalypse, of the deal he made with that angel, of the impossible mission in actually killing the Devil…Lucifer…

The grief that had possessed him since Lucifer had risen from Hell felt different now. He still blamed himself for never really pushing himself to go out and find the Winchesters in their journey to prevent the 66 seals from breaking. Chuck stayed at home like the coward he was even though he knew he could've done something that might have saved Dean from Hell, stopped Sam from becoming addicted to demon blood, and thwarted Lilith in breaking the final seal…

Chuck thought of the angel again, scared of what Sarah might think when the time does finally come and his body becomes just a vessel—a tool for war. He was sure she'd be upset, frightened and a myriad of other emotions he really did not want to envision afflict her perfect face. He began to wonder what it would feel like to be possessed; would it hurt or just be uncomfortable? Sam had mentioned in passing that Castiel's vessel, a man named Jimmy Novak had compared it to being chained to a comet and flying into oblivion. Apprehension swelled in the darkness. It was a powerful description and Chuck feared for that to be his ultimate destiny.

Chuck could not stand lying there with nothing but thoughts of dread for company, especially since he was surrounded by his most trusted allies a guy could ask for and a goddess of a girlfriend. She was his girlfriend now, right? It wasn't a cover-relationship it was…

Real…

This comforted him immensely. Even though their time together would be limited by the war, and if he couldn't find the Colt, it could be enough to fulfill some sort of aspect of his life he had dreamed of realizing since the moment he set his eyes on Sarah.

He sighed and buried his head deeper into Sarah's neck; desperate for something to take his mind to his "happy place," he distracted himself by pressing closer to her body and placing a kiss on her bare skin. Her breath quickened while she slept and a small smile crept on her lips. She made a pleased noise that had Chuck sighing longingly for her to awaken.

Sarah, I promise that I won't let anything hurt you. I'll protect you as long as I can before…

It all comes crashing down.

The faint, but noticeable sound of a door creaking open and a voice yelling, "Guys! Are you still here?" Stopped Chuck from boring a hole in the back of Sarah's head. He blinked away the wetness from his eyes, getting reacquainted with reality.

Being addressed by the unsure—but distinctly male voice, Chuck had no doubt who had entered the room; nevertheless, he did not immediately respond. He was too drowsy, not to mention comfortable in the warmth of Sarah's presence to get up and berate his friend for disrupting such a tranquil moment.

It was until said "friend" (He used that term loosely at the present) shouted, "Chuck?" that he let out a deprecating groan and forcefully parted from Sarah. He slipped off the bed, picked up his discarded boxers and put them on, and then ambled clumsily out of the room. Almost tripping over his and Sarah's clothes on the floor, he whispered "Dammit" and then blindly pursued to the other end of the room.

A hand placed on the wall for support, he managed to navigate himself to the bathroom. Everything was still dark but he could make out the tall Sasquatch of a figure outlined in the shadows. Even with the absence of light, Chuck could easily tell that the younger man was pouting.

"What are you so pissed about," he spoke to the silhouette. "Don't tell me you lost Rock Paper Scissors to Dean. Isn't that how you go about solving problems or something?"

The larger figure's response consisted in flicking on the light switch, effectively blinding Chuck until he saw stars. He clasped his hands over his eyes and whined pitifully; his friend was chuckling, highly amused.

"Well you took your time," deadpanned Sam when Chuck blinked furiously as he adapted to the light. "I thought I was going to interrupt something between the two of you…that is if Sarah is—?"

"She's still here." He replied with a yawn. Rubbing his eyes, he added. "But she's asleep. So turn it down a notch, alright?"

Sam nodded. He strolled away from the closed door, his hands deep in his jean pockets. He gazed around the room, noting that the gaudy red carpet was all but covered by random pieces of clothing. "What have you been doing?"

"I'm sure you could piece it all together without my help, Sherlock."

"Ooh, you're grouchy."

"Says the person wearing the biggest bitch-face known to existence," Chuck retorted sharply.

Sam dropped the look Chuck was describing. "So how did the little conversation go?" He changed subjects quickly.

Chuck stood there, barefoot and shirtless with an incredulous look on his face. He chose not to answer the question as it was pretty clear (at least to him) of what ended up coming from his "talk" with Sarah.

"Dean and I had a bet going to see if you were going to be dead by the time either of us had to check in on you."

"And yet, here I am," he stated.

Green eyes became transfixed on Chuck. Sam grinned at pointed at his face.

"Where did that come from?"

Chuck touched his cheek, wincing slightly as though remembering what had caused the injury.

"Sarah, you know, she's a rough n' tumble kind of girl—"

"She hit you."

Scoffing at that obscene accusation, Chuck said defensively. "Pfft… yeah right. Why would she hit me? Sam, you need to stop with the persecutions, man. Just because you went to law school doesn't make you a lawyer…"

Sam watched his friend stumble over his words until it was painfully obvious to see that he was digging himself into a hole. He raised both eyebrows and placating him by nodding like he believed him.

"Right, there's no way she hit you, Chuck. I mean, she only stabbed Castiel with a knife she somehow had secretly stashed god knows where, not to mention had followed you here to the middle of no man's land—still haven't figured that part out." He finished nonchalantly, "I guess there can be no way in hell that she would use violence to punish you for leaving her. It would be preposterous—"

"Chuck? Chuck! Chuck!"

Sam promptly closed his mouth and watched as Chuck went pale and his eyes almost bulged out of his skull. While this reaction came off as extremely entertaining, Sam realized how seriously Chuck was affected by this woman.

"I'm here!" he called. "Sarah, I'm at the door!"

There was a stampede of footsteps obscured by the darkened end of the room, and Sarah burst in on Chuck and Sam.

"I woke up and didn't know where you were!" she said breathlessly. Her eyes were squinting from the brightness and she rubbed them in such a way that made Chuck smile goofily. Sam rolled his eyes, seeing his friend so lovesick was a sight for sure. It seemed that anything that Sarah would do came off an adorable or sexy; at least that's what Chuck told him and his brother before he met the blonde face to face.

Looking at her in the better lighting, he could see why Chuck was head over heels for this girl. She was breathtaking. She was in only her panties and a flannel shirt that was buttoned up two out of the five notches. Sam tried with all his might not to gawk at her, he really did. He had to admit; it made him yearn for a better time. One where he was at Stanford with Chuck, living a normal life and in a relationship with the girl of his dreams.

He really missed Jessica, more recently than ever before it seemed.

"It's ok, Sarah. I'm here, I was talking to Sam." Chuck explained. Sam was freed from his trance at the sound of his name. "You two have met before right?"

She looked at Sam unblinkingly. Feeling like an ant beneath a magnifying glass, he cleared his throat and separated his gaze from her piercing blue eyes. His cheeks began to burn when he looked away. Sarah realized that she was wearing hardly anything at all, blushed and averted her eyes also. Chuck watched this unfold by scratching the side of his bearded face in complete obliviousness.

"Oh." She whispered. "I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"Well then," said Chuck, happy to begin introductions. "Sarah, this is one of my very best friends, Sam Winchester. He hunts down monsters all over the country with his brother, remember?"

"I vaguely remember that," her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Chuck ignored it. "And Sam, this is my girlfriend, Sarah Walker. She's currently working at a frozen yogurt shop and hates olives. Right, sweetie?"

"Yes sweetie."

Sam noticed that she did not like being put on the spot; when it concerned her personal life or lack thereof. She was very uncomfortable with the entire exchange.

"Uh, well hi…Sarah." He made an effort by waving his hand and delivering an awkward smile.

She said politely, "Nice to meet you, Sam."

Chuck threw an arm around Sarah and Sam's shoulders and pulled them in for a group hug. Both parties resisted until Chuck made it near impossible to move.

"See, this is great. Now we're all friends." He said more to Sarah, "You know we wouldn't be able to do this with Casey."

"Casey?" Sam asked, interested. "Sarah knows him? That's a coincidence, does she also know that he's—"

"—yep," he cut the Winchester off. "She knows that he knew about me this whole time."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. Chuck shot him a very stern glare before it all clicked. He nodded and played along.

"Ah, that John Casey." He feigned a chuckle for good measure, "What a good guy."

"Uh huh," Chuck agreed.

Sarah, not convinced by the lackluster excuse of lie, pursed her lips. She picked Chuck's arm off her and dropped it before turning to face him. Her expression was skeptical. She pointed to him.

"We're having a long talk on the way home," she forewarned. Looking to Sam, she said, "And while it was a pleasure meeting you—and it has been, I'd greatly appreciate it if you would give me and Chuck some privacy. We need to get dressed after all."

Sam replied, "Sure. How rude of me," He gave Chuck one last apologetic glance before backing slowly to the door. "I am sorry for intruding on the both of you." He wrenched open the door and bowed his head. "Just be sure to get outside ASAP because Bobby is going to be here any minute—"

A car horn honked in the distance. Sam swore he heard a gruff voice shout, "Idjit!" Well, that was his cue.

"—you can go now, Sam," said Sarah kindly.

Without another word, Sam was out of the room, the door slamming shut. Everything got suspiciously quieter after the hunter's departure and Chuck rocked on his heels, now wanting to get dressed and get outside where they would be in plain sight with a lot of witnesses.

"How did he get in our room?" Sarah spoke up after the long pause.

"He had a key."

"Why?"

"For emergencies," he said sheepishly. "Like for example: say if a band of demons suddenly came searching for me and I was in a coma and—"

Sarah held up a hand. "I get it."

He went mute.

There was a little too much amusement in the smile Sarah gave him for Chuck's liking. He had just begun to feel the night chill blow in the room and as he shivered, he felt the need to reclaim his clothes.

"So who's this Bobby person?" inquired Sarah. "Is he another hunter like Sam?"

"Yeah, he's a hunter." Chuck said; he focused on gathering his clothes lost from their heated encounter hours earlier. "Was one of my Dad's friends, a great hunter, at least until..." He reached for his jeans and then straightened up to meet Sarah's curious stare. "He had a really bad accident a few months ago. He became paralyzed from the waist down because of it."

"That's horrible, But couldn't that angel—the one with the trenchcoat, have healed him? He can do that, right?"

"Castiel lost a lot of his angel mojo the moment he sided with Sam and Dean and not Heaven."Chuck explained. "To them, he's just as much of an enemy as Lucifer is. They took away his ability to heal which is why Bobby is unable to walk."

He looked away and picked up his shoes, trying not to betray the resentment he felt. There it was again: the feeling of standing alone, to face the world. He wanted to be hopeful for the future. Why was it so hard to convince himself that this war would have a happy ending?

"Should we get ready to meet Sam?" Sarah suggested after a little pause. "I don't want to waste anymore time here."

He agreed, but silently, and followed her lead in getting dressed. She was taking off the flannel, concentrating hard on each individual button as she undid them. He watched this while zipping up his jeans, a fond smile on his lips. A warm feeling trickled through Chuck, but he was not immediately sure why. He looked at Sarah again. She was already peeling off the flannel, exposing her toned stomach and as well as her breasts.

"Sarah," he said, and he was surprised that his voice was so calm. "I never got to tell you how happy I am that you're actually here. We kind of got sort of…sidetracked."

"I'd say so."

"And since we did get preoccupied, I did not have the chance to say that I love you. I know you don't have to feel the same way about me and it's totally alright. It's just that I don't want anything to happen to you because you're all that I have left. Honestly, the only thing that gives me hope that there can be an end to the apocalypse is you. If you stayed dead, well, there wouldn't be much for me to fight for…"

There was a quick intake of breath, and then Sarah froze. Her entire upper body was exposed and vulnerable. Eyeballing her reaction, Chuck was unsure how to continue on. She looked to be in shock which caused him to be confused.

"Do you really mean that? You don't have to lie—"

Chuck nodded, talking a step closer to her. She read him once over and then allowed a smile to light up her face once she saw no trace of hesitance in his warm, liquid brown eyes. Only undying love and acceptance mingled through the irises.

"I-I don't know what to say, Chuck." She whispered.

"You don't have to say anything really," said Chuck. "I don't need any confirmation, I told you that already. I'm cool with whatever we have, if its love or just a really intimate friendship—"

"No!" interrupted Sarah. "I hate when you do this to me. Just because I can't verbalize how I feel, you assume that I don't share the same mutual feelings? Are you that insecure, Chuck?"

She had not realized that she was holding Chuck's arm so tightly that he winced. She released him, kept the same close proximity, and said. "Chuck. I want you to listen to me, and please don't interrupt."

Chuck said nothing.

"I love you," she went on. "I love you more than I thought I was able to. So don't get it in your mind that we are just friends, because we're not. We're so much more than that. After all the trouble I went through in finding you—dying even, I would think that we would have settled in the fact that I'd do absolutely anything for you, Chuck. As a partner, a friend, and a…"

Chuck closed the space between them and Sarah lost her train of thought as soon as his bare skin touched hers. She heaved a laboring breath and tried to keep it cool. In the dim light of the room, shadows continued to dance on the walls; indistinguishable shapes twisted and paraded while a fire pulsed from her body to Chuck's. She met his gaze and saw that his eyes were ablaze, shining brighter than she had ever seen before; like they were glossed over with sheen of gold.

Chuck covered her hand with his and squeezed it.

"I'm glad I decided to keep my mouth shut for once." He joked.

His tone was warm and subduing. The humor lingered but was underlined with the relief of finding out that his feelings were being reciprocated.

She said flirtatiously, "I don't always object to it, though."

Chuck gave a shaky laugh.

"Uh, I think we should err, get dressed."

Sarah eyed him carefully, watching the strange luster in his eye recede. His body cooled down and was no longer burning. He looked confused with a mix of nervousness worn on his face. Crestfallen, she pulled away and held out his flannel.

"You might need this," she suggested quietly.

Muttering a "thanks", he took the shirt and shrugged it on. Popping the collars out, he buttoned up the shirt and watched as Sarah meandered around the room in only her lacey panties to keep her covered. She bent over to get the bra that had been stripped from her; Chuck inhaled sharply.

"While you were asleep, I went to town and bought—well, stole some clothes for you." He explained shortly after she pulled the bra straps up on either of her shoulders. "I didn't think you wanted to go back home in the clothes you came in…they were pretty bloody."

She nodded.

He pointed to the large dresser, "They're in the second drawer down."

Without a sound, she walked over to the dresser and slid the aforementioned drawer open. Chuck ruffled his hair while she grabbed a shirt and pair of jeans. She sat on the edge of the bed and proceeded to get dressed.

"Why after we confess our love for each other, are we still the most awkward couple to exist ever?"

Pulling the shirt over her head, Sarah guffawed. "It could have something to do with our lack of communication. But it's just a guess."

Chuck inclined his head and chuckled in agreement. He came toward the bed and settled down beside Sarah. He began tying up his shoes while she slid into her new jeans. Neither met the other's glances.

"We will have a few days on the road to figure out the whole communication aspect of our…relationship." He spoke offhandedly. "The real test of course will come the next time we have to solve a case."

"We are hunting?" Sarah asked. "As in I'm going to be hunting—?"

"With me," he completed for her, "Yeah. That's if you want to…"

Aware that Sarah was now staring at him, Chuck felt weak at the knees, not sure if she was accepting her role as his partner or ridiculing him.

It surprised him when her lips curved into a beaming smile.

"I can't wait!"

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She retorted indignantly. "It sounds like a thrilling experience."

They looked at each other: Chuck knew that Sarah was completely serious in her admission. She even seemed to be eager by the sound of it. She thought she was ready. She had actually died and she still was confident. To his relief, he remembered something that he had forgotten to mention.

"You'll see how thrilling it is," he said and gave up on the discussion. Then he continued before she could retort. "Before we leave, I need to give you something."

He reached into his pocket and presented Sarah with leather made necklace, a strange pendant hung from the end. He dropped it in her open palm and sighed.

"What's this for?" She asked confusedly.

"You know the tattoo I have?"

"Yes."

"It protects me from demon possession," he informed. "Not having one makes you extremely vulnerable. If you want to hunt, you need this."

She stared at the pendant: it had intricate symbols carved into the stone. It reminded her of the ancient jewelry found in the Mayan temples. Wordlessly, she put it around her neck.

"Wear it all times, Sarah." Chuck instructed. His eyes were hard and protective. "I don't want to see it off until you get something more permanent. The last thing I want is for you is to be some demon's meat-suit."

A shiver traveled up Sarah's back. The thought of being possessed entered her mind.

"You've never been possessed before, have you Chuck?"

Unwaveringly, he responded, "No. But I've heard what it's like. I've seen it."

Chuck glanced out of window and saw the moon peaking behind the cloudy sky. Sarah saw she had struck some sort of nerve and let the topic die.

"Chuck. We should go now. It's getting really late."

"Right," he conceded. He took his eyes off the moon and faced her. He was smiling tiredly. "We have a long trip home."

"What is taking them so long?!"

"I don't know. Maybe they're just getting dressed?"

"Ha, I'm calling bullshit. They're probably going for round two!"

"Shut up, Boy." Bobby said gruffly.

Aimed at Dean, the elder hunter shot him a no-nonsense glare. The two brothers stopped their banter and went quiet. Castiel watched this nonplussed. His blue eyes blinked slowly. He found it to be amusing how the siblings would respond to Bobby as though he was their surrogate father. In a way, he was.

"Right then," said Bobby, checking his watch. "It's almost nine, we need to get a move on or else things are gonna go downhill real fast."

"Oh so you're allowed to bitch about Chuck and his girlfriend getting naughty, but I can't?" Dean huffed. "How's that fair?"

"Dean—c'mon, don't start this." Sam butted in. "It's late. We are all tired. Give it a break."

Bobby waved the youngest hunter dismissively. "Don't mind him, Sam. If you let him run his mouth, he'll be sleeping like a baby by the time we leave this god-forsaken place."

Dean laughed sarcastically.

Bobby ignored him. "So, who's this girl you're brother won't stop talking about?" He looked at Sam interestedly. "She's not another Bela, is she?"

"No, I don't think so." Sam replied. "She's Chuck's girlfriend, that's all we know so far."

"—and she knows her way around knives." Dean interjected. He jabbed at finger at the angel. "She's quick. Caught Cas off guard and tossed a knife at him; hit him dead center."

Bobby considered this information. Dean and Sam looked on apprehensive for a response.

"So you're sure she ain't a hunter?"He asked.

Sam nodded. "Yep, and she's not a demon, angel, vampire, or werewolf either."

"We already tested to make sure she wasn't," his brother added with a reminiscent smile.

"Huh, that's odd. Maybe she's a fed."

"Why does everyone think that's the case?" Sam said exasperatedly.

"Because she's sexy, deadly, and hanging around the nerdiest hunter in North America. If that does not scream she's some type of spy or whatever, I don't know what does!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You watch too much TV, Dean."

"Hey, Sydney Bristow was foxy as hell!"

"I believe Chuck knows the truth. We should ask him to tell us the answer so that our speculations will be put to rest," voiced Castiel.

Bobby said, mystified at the angel's statement. "That was the single most intelligent thing I've heard since I've got here."

"That's not saying much," a familiar voice commented amusedly.

Turning his wheelchair around, the old man was greeted with two new arrivals. Like a carbon copy of his father, Chuck Bartowski was walking hand-in-hand with a woman Bobby assumed to be his girlfriend. His untamed hair blew in the warm summer wind and he smiled lopsidedly as the couple approached him.

Well, they looked happy.

"Boy, nice to see you again." He spoke fondly of Steve's youngest kid. He hadn't seen him since a few months after his Dad left him. Already, he noticed how much the boy matured. He was standing up tall, confident, just like he should be.

"Hey, Bobby," Chuck offered him a hand. "I'm glad you could make it."

They shook hands and then Chuck introduced him to the blonde female. She was looking at him shyly which made Bobby rethink the possibility that there was something more to her than meets the eye.

"This is Sarah," he began. "She's my girlfriend from back home."

Bobby said pleasantly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sarah. I'm glad through all of this you've stuck by Chuck's side. He needs someone like you to keep his brain in check."

Sarah blushed at the onslaught of compliments, not really expecting it. Chuck caught a quick glance of this and quirked a small grin.

He resumed, "And this is Bobby Singer: hunter extraordinaire."

"Nice to meet you," Sarah said cordially.

Bobby nodded.

"I know that the meet and greet is super important and everything, but can we please speed this up a little bit? This place is freaking me out. I haven't seen one single tumbleweed since we've got here."

"You're right, Dean. Since the world revolves around you, we will do whatever you say."

"As you should," he said to his brother; lost to the sarcastic remark.

Chuck's eyes widened when he remembered. "Dean's actually right." He got weird looks from everyone save for Sarah. "I know, strange. But anyway, we should leave. Like pronto. I need to get home or else there will be some serious complications."

The hunters all agreed silently. Sarah looked at them, confused.

"How do we get home?" She said quizzically. "The Porsche is wrecked. I doubt the either of you want to take us all the way back to California…"

"It's fine. Bartowski has his own ride." Bobby explained airily.

Sarah frowned. She did not know this. She turned to Chuck, who seemed just as confused as she was. Then there was a transformation occurring on his face; he went from unsure to ecstatic in the matter of seconds.

"That's the surprise?" He choked out. "A car, really?"

"Yeah, I had to lug that stupid thing all the way from South Dakota so you better be happy about this."

Chuck was more than happy. Hell, he was bouncing on his feet. A car. He was going to have his own car.

Dean put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Now you know how I feel. Join the club, dude."

"I doubt I'm going to commit adultery with an inanimate object, Dean."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing happiness. Her love for Chuck expanded while he began to shed some light on who he really was, not who he appeared to be. The way he interacted with the brothers, and even Bobby, it was like they were family. She wanted to know what that was like. She wished for a bond that tightly interwoven.

"What kind of car is it?" Chuck's excited voice made Sarah blink back to the present.

"Dean, how about you show him." Bobby advised. "Pull the tarp off, will yeah?"

Dean did as he was told. He grabbed the black tarp and gave it a good pull; it unconcealed the vehicle in one swoop.

"It was your Dad's old car." The hunter mentioned as an awe-struck Chuck went to inspect it. "He went on most of his hunting trips with it until after you were born. He told me a few years back to keep it stored just in case he needed it, but I think he was talking about you."

The car glittered beneath the pale moonlight, its blue coat sparkling like stars. Chuck placed a hand on the hood, marveling in how good of shape it was in. It looked untouched, brand new even.

He asked breathlessly, "What is it?"

"A 1968 Pontiac Firebird," Bobby answered. "A damn good car, so you better take good care of it."

"I won't let anything happen to it," Chuck promised.

Entranced, he almost was hit in the face with a pair of keys. He grabbed them out of the air just in time.

"Thank you so much, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head. "Don't thank me. Thank your Dad."

Chuck smiled, grateful. "I will."

By the time Chuck had gotten the Firebird situated, it was time for Sam, Dean, and Bobby to make their departure as well as his own. The two brothers were by the Impala, shoving as much stuff as they could in the backseat. Bobby had unlinked the van he drove from Steven Bartowski's old car and Castiel aided him in climbing back into the driver's side.

The sounds of engines rumbling pierced the night sky; all three cars ready to continue their separate journeys. While Chuck was fidgeting with the trunk of the car, Sarah went over to the Winchesters.

She called them out individually, "Sam, Dean?"

They slammed the car door and spun around. Sam looked hopeful, Dean was not.

"I just wanted to say, thank you for keeping Chuck safe. It means more than you can possibly know."

Sam stepped toward her while Dean lingered behind. He held out a hand.

"It's no problem at all. Chuck may not be blood related, but he's a much as family as Dean and I are. We wouldn't mind it either if you decide to join in the fun." He looked over his shoulder. "Right, Dean?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Join our big happy dysfunctional family! It'll be a blast."

"Don't listen to him. He's just tired. He hasn't had his daily nap yet."

Sarah smiled, instantly making the connection between Chuck and Sam. They were so very much alike. She felt instantly comfortable around him. And instead of accepting his handshake, she gave him a sincere hug. Sam was taken by surprise but warmed up to it eventually. Dean was gawking.

They parted and both of them were smiling wider than before.

"Thank you," she repeated softly.

Sam stayed quiet, meditative. Sarah brushed past him and came to Dean, who was expecting a hug like his brother. She awkwardly gave him a pat on the head. Sam choked back his laughter.

"It was interesting meeting you, Dean."

"Uh…"

She left without anything more to add. Dean looked to his brother, who just snorted.

"Why did you get a hug, but I got a pat on the head?" he asked.

"Because she thinks you're like a retarded puppy, Dean."

"Whatever, let's bail."

Sam nodded. He glanced over to Bobby and then to Chuck and Sarah.

"See you guys later," he called.

"Hopefully not too soon," Dean added.

"Be safe," Bobby shouted over the van's engine. "And take your angel along with you."

Dean rolled his eyes. Calling him like a dog, "Cas, come on. We'll give you a ride to wherever you want to go."

Castiel bowed his head and then obediently went to the Impala. Chuck watched them all get in their cars; music blaring out of the Impala while a cool silence filled the van. The cars revved and went on their way, exiting the parking lot, dust kicking up as they sped down the empty road.

Once they were only specks in the horizon, Chuck sighed.

Sarah looked up into his face, took a deep breath, and said, "So, what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

She was looking at him steadily; he however found it to be difficult to look back. Even though blackness had taken over the sky, Sarah was like gazing into a brilliant light. It was impossible to not stare, even if it was blinding.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked. "Do we go back to Burbank and be spies again or do we…?

"I don't know," he said feebly, his palm resting on the handle of the car. "Both are important and it's hard to decide. On one hand, we need to get back home or else we're in serious trouble. I don't think you want Beckman up your ass because we decided to take a longer detour across the United States hunting the supernatural…"

She ignored his rambling. He could not blame her.

"I will be with you no matter what you decide, Chuck." She said honestly.

"Well what if I'm undecided?"

She disregarded his indecisiveness too.

"You can do both. We can do both: Together. I'm ready for this, more so than I have been for anything else in my entire life."

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; her face was resolute and the air around her crackled with self-determination. It was one of the wonderful things about Sarah; she was not a weepy person. She was strong willed and the life she led as a conman's daughter and a CIA operative must've toughened her up.

She took a step closer to him.

Continuing in a hushed tone, "Being a spy…it's been my job, but this, I can feel it. It's what I have to do. Chuck, we have to do this. We need to stop the apocalypse."

"If there's anyone in the world I'd like to go hunt Lucifer down with, it'd be you. To be honest, we might have a chance at surviving this."

"There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she cracked a delighted smile and then she pressed her body to his and kissed him. Chuck was kissing back and he wrapped his arms around her waist as he leaned against the Firebird.

It was sweet bliss and for awhile, they enjoyed the peace. Seldom in the parking lot, was Chuck lost in the only real thing in his world, Sarah. The feel of her, one hand on her back and one in her blonde hair—

"We'll continue this later." Sarah teased, suddenly parting from Chuck.

"Smart thinking," he smiled. He stroked her face once before kissing her a final time.

They silently went to their respective sides of the car; opened the doors; jumped in and got settled in their seats. Chuck sat on the driver's side, a sense of purpose filtering behind his brown eyes. He stared through the windshield and saw the road up ahead. Sliding the keys into the ignition, he turned on the car. It roared to life and he cracked a triumphant grin.

Setting the gear into drive, he traded a last glance with Sarah.

"Ready?" he asked her.

He was met with a smile of her own. "Let's go home, Chuck."

And so they did—together— just like how they envisioned it would always end.

Fin

An: And It's over!!! Aw… Part Two: dubbed Sorority Row (Wonder what that's about?) Will be out soon; finals are next week and then I'm having surgery so….possibly next Saturday? Anyway, here are some things that you can look forward too during the duration of the series:

Chuck and Sarah's first hunt! (Action, humor, and romance ensue!)

Casey's secret.

How I will work Shaw and the Ring into this—I think it's pretty clever at least—same goes with Hannah.

How much of a badass Ellie is.

What's going on with Chuck and his deal with an angel?

Is the ghost of Emmitt Milbarge haunting the Buy More? The Answer: yes.

And There is many, many more to come. Just ask questions and I'll try to answer as best as I can!

Hoped everyone enjoyed part I. I know I did. =D