summary: They may have survived Christmas and all that happened before it, but Ellie's New Year's Party and the clock ticking down to midnight might just be the biggest test of Chuck and Sarah's cover to date. And to make it worse, memories of their kiss can't quite seem to escape them. Set in Season 1.

a/n: Hi there! I figured I'd end this year by finally getting around to one of my resolutions for 2017: post some fanfic. It has been a long, long time since I've written and posted any fic, and this is my first time posting Chuck fic, so I'm a little nervous, I'm not gonna lie. But something about this show just gets my brain going and, with so much great fic already out there for it, I decided it was finally time to actually post one of the things I've written and throw my hat into the ring. And what better fic to post on New Year's Eve, than a fic set on New Year's Eve? As the summary says, this is set in Season 1, so timeline-wise it comes between Chuck Versus the Crown Vic and Chuck Versus the Undercover Lover, dealing with my favourite aspect of the show, the cover dynamics! Because, Chuck and Sarah might have just made their decision to be friends after the mess with Bryce and their kiss, but we all know with those two and this show, things can't quite be that easy. Ahead lies Ellie's New Year's party, a lot of thinking on Sarah's behalf as to how she feels and where she and Chuck stand, copious amounts of alcohol, and a countdown to midnight, all of which serve to test Chuck and Sarah's cover, and their resolve to hold back when it comes to each other. Plus, any excuse to make 'em kiss, right?
If you like it, please please let me know, I feel super rusty when it comes to writing and I've never posted anything written with these characters before, so I'd appreciate any feedback y'all have. I've got more fics and more ideas I'd definitely consider posting if people wanna read them! Okay, I'll stop rambling now, and let you enjoy.
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, New Year's, dorky dancing, or multi-named frat brothers.

Chuck rushes into Casey's apartment a minute before the briefing is due to begin, arms full of various bags that look stuffed full, cheeks flushed, breath audibly heaving, and Sarah thinks she's just about successful in hiding a smile behind the back of her hand as he stumbles through the door and shuts it with his foot.

"Am I late?" he asks, depositing all the bags on the floor unceremoniously- Sarah guesses nothing inside is breakable- before rushing to where she and Casey stand.

The Major grunts.

"Cutting it close, but that's nothing new now, is it?"

Rolling her eyes, she looks past him to see Chuck smoothing down his rumpled clothes by the opposite corner of Casey's desk. He must feel her eyes on him, for he looks up, and Sarah ignores the warmth that spreads in her when his exhausted unamused expression melts into a smile, and he mouths Hi. her way.

"How was Ellie last night?" she asks, since the briefing has yet to start, and there's no reason they can't just talk right now.

He pulls a face. Their mission last night ran later than expected, very late, in fact, which Sarah knows meant Chuck didn't come home until way past the time he'd been meant to. And, when he had arrived, he'd been sans the many many items Ellie had thought he'd left to buy for her earlier that day. Now, though, he just shrugs.

"Pissed. She didn't say that, but she stuck me with double shopping duty today, which is why I got..." He waves a hand in the vague direction of the mess of bags on the floor. "That."

"I thought she'd already gone shopping for the party and you were just getting the things she forgot?"

Chuck snorts, sending her a smirk like she should know better by now.

"An Ellie Bartowski New Years Party is no quiet affair, Sarah. In Ellie's eyes, too much stuff still isn't enough."

Grinning, she's about to reply, but Casey clears his throat and his monitor beeps, and Sarah holds her tongue as her bosses pop up onscreen. Probably best not to get caught chatting about normal stuff and parties on company time, she thinks.

"Good morning, team," Beckman nods, shuffling papers on her desk as Graham customarily leans over her shoulder. Sarah wonders, absentmindedly, quite when someone will fetch the Director a chair. "Last night's operation was a success, I'm sure you'll all be glad to know. Congratulations."

Sarah pretends she doesn't see Chuck visibly sigh and relax just a few feet and a Casey away to her left. Ever since they've been on this mission since the 27th, she knows the fear of missing New Years has been weighing heavier and heavier on his mind. She'd been fully prepared to protest anything that would've made him miss Ellie's party, of course, Sarah would've cited needing to protect his and their cover to Beckman and Graham had that happened, but she hadn't told him that. Much like many of her potential plans to protect her asset, it's just something she knows, holds in her head, just in case. She'd had a similar argument for Christmas Day and the 26th, too, but their phones and computers had mercifully stayed silent those days, and Sarah had spent the day after Christmas (they'd both agreed that their cover relationship wasn't quite at spending Christmas Day together levels yet, whether or not that was true) curled up next to Chuck on his couch, eating chocolates and drinking various hot beverages and watching many movies she'd never even heard of before. She loved it.

"Now, I understand there's some kind of party tonight?" Graham asks, sounding disdainful, but even with that tone Chuck perks up, grins the screen's way.

"Yessir, my sister's New Years party. Should be pretty awesome," he says, not so subtly turning Sarah's way and sending her a beaming smile that makes her tamp down on a flush, purse her lips to stop herself from grinning back. It's funny that things were so off between them not so long ago and now it all feels silly and happy and normal again, kinda. Almost.

"An open party concerns me, Major, I presume yourself and Agent Walker will be monitoring the asset at all times?"

Chuck's grin falls, immediately. Sarah hates that, for some reason.

"Aw, c'mon, it's a pa-"

"Yes ma'am. I'll be attending only to keep an eye on the Intersect and the... proceedings." Casey interrupts, voice gruff.

"Only?" Chuck murmurs, sounding sad, and Sarah flicks her gaze over to him to see him turning his eyes to the floor, shuffling his feet awkwardly. She just stops herself from turning and glaring at Casey for being so insensitive. They all know Chuck is trying to live as normal a life as possible, there's no need for Casey to be an ass about cover duty that should be pretty lightweight anyway.

"And Agent Walker? Have you discussed your plans for the cover with the asset tonight?" Graham nods to her, clearly keen to know what his own agent will be bringing to the event.

She straightens up.

"Yes," she lies. Chuck's head doesn't turn her way at the falsehood, which impresses her, but she sees he tenses a little, like he's just been slapped or something. Though having witnessed Chuck in even the mildest pain, she doubts he'd be so quiet having been slapped. Honestly, though, she just doesn't want to discuss tonight's cover with him, because she knows if she does, he'll be anxious the whole night, trying to stick to what she tells him to do rather than just relaxing and having fun. It's a terrible concept in terms of being a handler controlling an asset, but after the months they've had, Sarah doesn't want to be that tonight, doesn't want to control Chuck, order him. She just wants him to be able to... be. Plus, she's well aware that tonight could be one of the biggest tests of their cover so far, and with her very PDA-fearing fake-boyfriend, discussing the ins and outs of how best to act at such an event could just be awkward. Really awkward. "I'll be with him the whole night at the party, keeping our cover, and also monitoring things from the inside."

"Good." Graham says, nodding.

"But... It is still a party, on New Year's Eve. It should be... enjoyable."

The grin Chuck immediately sends her way makes the confused stares from Beckman and Graham totally worth it.

"I see," Beckman drawls, unimpressed. "Well, that should be all. We will see you at our briefing on the second."

"Yes, General, Director." Sarah says, and Casey follows suit similarly. She once more only just holds back a smile, though, when silence falls, and four out of the five sets of eyes in the room or on the screen drift, slowly, to Chuck.

He blinks, then grins again.

"Oh, uh, sure, yeah,"

With a sigh, Beckman reaches out and cuts the stream, before Graham even has a chance to say his own farewell. Chuckling, Sarah ignores Casey's muttered grumbles about respect for superior officers, and rounds the Major to sidle up to Chuck.

"I think that went well." he says, profoundly, before his terrible poker face breaks and he smirks at her.

She grins, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Do you need any help getting all that to your place?" she asks, nodding briefly to the pile of bags. Chuck just shakes his head, moving toward the things and beginning to scoop them up the way he'd had them before he'd walked into the apartment.

"Nah, I got it. I mean, I'd actually like the help, but trust me once you took a step inside you wouldn't be getting out again. You're gonna get roped into setting up when you come by later, anyway, even though I made Ellie promise me she wouldn't let you."

Rather touched that he asked Ellie to agree to such a thing, she just shrugs a shoulder.

"Okay. If you're sure. I can be very sneaky, though, she might not even see m-"

"Oh no, she's in party mode. When an extra pair of arms enters a room she spies them right away, even a superspy couldn't escape her. She's got, like, sonar, or something, like a dolphin."

Laughing at such an image, Sarah scoops down to pick up the last few bags since Chuck's hands are full anyway, settling them on top of others where he holds some to his chest. If he were shorter, he could bend down just a little and brush his chin against the top bag, but luckily with his height he's still got room to move and make the trip across to his apartment.

She opens Casey's door for him to shuffle out of, then waits in the doorway as he turns round. Though she doubts Ellie would have enough free time to be gazing out the windows, Sarah knows Chuck is shielding her from view anyway, so she can slip away and get back to her apartment before returning later.

"So I'm still coming by at six?"

He nods, or tries to, at least, he more just jerks his head a little and tries not to drop anything. He's not quite successful, though, and she has to reach up to stop a rogue bag from making a bid for freedom.

"Okay, I'll see you then,"

When he grins, it's as warm and radiant as ever, and Sarah resists the sudden urge to lean up and kiss his cheek, like she would do if they were standing outside a different apartment in this complex, outside his, like she would do for the cover. But there's no need for it right now. It's funny, she never thought she'd be wanting more moments for their cover, as uncomfortable as those moments so often are. But right now, leaving to see him later, it's like she's so used to kissing his cheek goodbye that it's just gotten engrained in her, somehow. She settles for stopping another fleeing bag and patting his shoulder.

"Can't wait," he murmurs, and Sarah knows, somehow, that he's telling the complete truth. She smiles, and slips away and out of the courtyard. She thinks she hears the crumpling sound of another bag falling to the ground as she leaves, but she resists the urge to turn back around.

He answers the door, like he so often does when it's her. Maybe it's that she prides herself on keeping to a schedule, so he always knows if someone's at the door when she's meant to be, it's gonna be her, or maybe he can just sense her, tell it's her on the other side of the wooden frame. She can always tell when it's him who's walked into the Wienerlicious, him who's knocking on her door, and sure she's got years of government training on this kinda thing on her side, but she knows, with Chuck, it's more than that. It's somehow always more than that. Maybe he can sense her just like she can him.

"Hey!" he greets, grinning happily at her once he's pulled the door open. "Welcome to the mad house!"

"Chuck." Ellie chides, loudly from somewhere else in the apartment, Sarah's not sure where. Poking her head in briefly, she sees Devon's setting stuff up in the kitchen, though, so she stands up on her toes just as Chuck leans down, his lips pressing gently against her cheek. She feels a little handler pride rise in her, since he's really learning, but as she'd thought earlier they do this so often it feels like a habit now, feels natural. Normal.

"Hi," she murmurs, smiling at him. He reaches out to her as she steps inside, taking her bag and just waiting patiently while she slips out of her coat and hands it over. It doesn't feel too cold outside tonight, not to Sarah at least, when she's spent days and weeks in frozen locations for missions before, but tomorrow's supposed to have a biting wind whistling through California, so she'd slipped her thicker coat on in preparation. Because, with what she's gathered is happening tonight, she's pretty sure she's not gonna be leaving until way into tomorrow.

"You look... awesome." Chuck says, casting his gaze up and down her briefly. She's never known someone eye her so intensely with such innocence before, such a lack of creepy lasciviousness. Only Chuck, only ever Chuck, just seems to see her. There is, though, a tiny flush to his cheeks as he looks at her this time, and Sarah ignores the treacherous smugness that rises in her at that. She's only in nice jeans, some heels, and a blue blouse, but she'd put effort in, spent time on the outfit, carefully applied her makeup, styled her hair. And Chuck seems to be appreciating it.

"Thanks. You..." she trails off in repeating the compliment, because she's pretty sure Chuck hasn't gotten changed yet. His t-shirt is ratty and stained, the words or pictures on it so peeled and faded she can't work out what it's meant to say, and his jeans are fraying at the ankles. His hair is puffy and ruffled. He looks, somehow, very cute.

"Look not so awesome, I know. I got caught up in prepping stuff," He pulls a face as he starts heading round to the hall. Sarah follows him automatically, seeing how he turns to look back at her as he walks. "Oh, I meant to say, don't worry. Ellie and Devon have volunteered their room for the coat check, so if I lock the Morgan Door and my bedroom door, no drunk people or just regular Morgans are gonna walk in here and find your stuff."

Sarah shrugs, because it really is fine by her. While Chuck sets her stuff in his room, she looks back down the hall to the kitchen, and tries not to gawp at the sight.

"I see what you mean about preparation," she says, taking in the space the kitchen has now become.

Chuck emerges from his room and returns to her side, and she looks up at him to see him grinning.

"Awesome, right? It was Devon's idea but I've been helping set it up."

It really is impressive, she thinks. Devon has somehow managed to transform the kitchen into a pretty well-stocked bar. All the flat surfaces, counters, shelves, are lined with either solo cups or very full bottles of almost every kind of alcohol imaginable. The breakfast counter holds two large buckets, currently empty, but Sarah guesses by the time guests begin to arrive in a half hour or so, they'll be filled with ice, beers chilling in them, maybe wines. In between the buckets sits an impressive selection of mixers, bottles, cans, tons of soda, and Sarah spies more underneath the counter, spares, evidently. Devon stands at the only free space left, a tiny gap near the sink, with a gigantic pile of limes and lemons in front of him, a knife in hand, and a stack of Tupperware next to him to evidently store the slices in. When he's finished with the lime he's been chopping, he looks up, sending a trademark grin Chuck and Sarah's way.

"Hey Sarah, you want anything? We've got beers, vodka, tequila-"

"I'm okay, thanks Devon," she interrupts, because the idea of starting the night on tequila at 6pm isn't an appetizing one right now. Awesome shrugs and returns to his task dedicatedly, and Sarah half-wonders if he's only on lime duty at Ellie's instruction.

By her side, Chuck clears his throat.

"Hey, uh, you mind if I keep helping out? I've still got a couple things to do before I can get changed,"

She shakes her head.

"It's fine, go ahead,"

With a grin, he steps past her, heading back into the living room and presumably whatever he'd been doing before she arrived, and Sarah looks around at the rest of the room as he heads to a tub of cheese puffs. The apartment is decorated nicely, with lots of twinkle lights wound around the shelves, the fireplace, that match the sparkling trails around the courtyard she'd seen on her way in. The dining table and coffee table have big bowls of various chips and nibbles on, nuts, candy, tiny sandwiches and mini quiches she really hopes weren't donated by Casey, since nobody needs laced with nanobots right now. There's also a few more tables scattered round the room, plus more chairs than Sarah's used to, and since there were more seats outside too they're clearly anticipating quite a crowd. She's not sure how many people are expected to be here tonight; she's never attended one of Ellie's parties before but she doesn't think they're small affairs.

Footsteps sound in the hall suddenly, and Sarah turns to see the host in question stepping through into the kitchen, already dressed for the party, and when Ellie spies her she grins broadly, much like Awesome had. For the hundredth time, Sarah is struck by just how nice Chuck's family is, how warm and welcoming they are to her, someone they've only known a couple months now, and when Ellie steps forward, arms outstretched, she only feels that even more.

"Sarah, hey!" Ellie says, engulfing her in a hug that Sarah knows will always leave her a little stunned. It's not just niceness- before the Bartowskis she'd never known such a group of huggers before. She pulls back, grinning still. "I'm so glad you're here! What d'you think?" She waves an arm around to gesture to the apartment.

"It looks awesome. I'm really looking forward to the party, thanks for inviting me, Ellie," she says, with a customary cover smile, and the other woman instantly frowns and nudges her shoulder gently.

"You're Chuck's girlfriend, of course you're invited, you're always invited!"

Trying not to flush, somehow a more difficult task than it should be, Sarah just shrugs with a smile once more.

"So... do you need any help?"

Ellie beams, evidently having received an answer to a question she hadn't wanted to ask.

"Yes, thank you. People are gonna start arriving in a half hour and I still haven't put the streamers up outside. How are you at hanging bunting?"

As Sarah finds herself being dragged out to the courtyard as Ellie juggles a step ladder and an armful of shining banners, she manages to catch a glance of Chuck, still pouring cheese puffs into bowls and trying, very badly, not to smirk.

By the time she heads back into the apartment again what feels like hours later, her arms aching from being raised in the air so long as she'd strung banners and streamers from every high surface in the courtyard, the living room is apparently ready for the party. Music is playing from speakers, the twinkle lights are all lit up, and Chuck is nowhere to be found.

Ellie, however, is in the kitchen-bar, a clipboard and pen in hand, apparently marking things off a list. She looks up with a brief smile but promptly looks back down again, scribbling on the paper.

"All finished." Sarah finds herself saying, but Ellie just nods at the paper once more, and with her hands in her pockets, she moves forward, making her way nearer the hall.

"You deserve an extra drink tonight for that, thank you. Just in time, too, people should be here in a few minutes. Chuck's in his room, you can go right through."

Oh, thank god. Cover or not, spending time with Ellie one-on-one is always so, so awkward, to Sarah. It's nothing personal, she doesn't think, but Ellie is intense and a very talkative person, and Sarah's pretty sure she's neither of those things. She's quiet, and private, by nature, sharing her feelings and talking about relationships isn't her idea of fun.

And so, she nods, though Ellie still can't see, probably.

"Thanks." With that, she rushes up the hall, knocking on Chuck's door. "It's me,"

"Come in," he calls, and she pushes on the door, seeing him turned away and facing his standing mirror. Slipping inside the room, she closes the door once more, eyes Chuck. A button down is over his shoulders, long sleeved, a nice gray colour with pinstripes down it, and judging by the cuffs of his jeans he's changed out of that old frayed pair now, though his usual Converse are still on his feet.

"Ellie says people should be arriving soon," She leans against the door, folds her arms, sees how Chuck nods.

"Cool," he hums, turning around to face her, and Sarah blinks as she sees he's still buttoning up his shirt. Sure, he's got a button done up near the top, but the rest of the shirt is open, his fingers slowly slipping down the trim as he closes it, and despite herself a flush runs over her as she sees the slight slip of skin beneath the material. It's just the creamy stretch of his chest, his stomach, the slight shadow over it, before he pulls on a button and the two halves close a little more, cutting that view from her, leaving it somehow even more tantalizingly small to her, an even smaller strip, just a tiny gap, and she clears her throat, drags her eyes back up to his. She pretends she doesn't see the slight questioning raise to his brow, but then he blinks, and it's gone. "Can I ask you something?"

She startles a little, her first instinct telling her he must somehow be thinking about his shirt still, but she knows that makes no sense so she just nods.

"Sure."

"Are you looking forward to this?" Taken aback by that, she frowns, and he must see it as he finishes doing the buttons up, for he shrugs. "I just never know how you, like, approach these kindsa things. Cover, and all that. I mean Casey's just gonna act like a bodyguard all night, I know that, but... is this the kinda thing you'd enjoy?"

Licking her lips, she tries to scramble some sort of answer together.

"Parties aren't usually my thing," she starts, thinking about what she'd thought about just moments earlier, about how different she and Ellie are. Ellie probably revels in this sort of event, but to Sarah, it's not so fun.

Chuck snorts.

"Mine either."

"But... tonight shouldn't be too bad. It's New Year's Eve. And..." She bites her lip, recalling her thoughts in the briefing earlier today. "I'm not gonna think too much about the cover, tonight, Chuck. You shouldn't either,"

His eyebrows knit into a frown.

"Really?"

"Really. Just have fun. It's bad enough, that the Intersect is in your head all the time, you shouldn't let it affect everything. Just... let Casey be the bodyguard, ignore the cover, and enjoy it. We did good, with this past mission, I think having some fun is the least you deserve."

Silence falls, just for a moment, and she feels her cheeks begin to burn furiously. Sometimes her thoughts just run far, far away from her.

"Oh." He blinks. "Okay." And then, his expression melts into a grin, so warm and lovely and sweet that something in her stomach flips, knowing, wanting, and she can't help but smile happily in reply. Because that's what this feels like. Happy.

The doorbell rings, and they both jump a little, and she raises her eyebrows as a gaggle of voices suddenly fill the apartment, loud cheers and conversation.

"I guess some people are a little early," she hums, and he nods.

"I guess. Hey, could you, uh, help me with these?" He gestures to his sleeves, begins tugging one of them up, and to save him the trickiness of trying to roll them up himself she steps in instantly, reaching out and swatting his hands away, folding up the material over and over until it rests by his elbow. When she's done with the first, she steps to her left a little, starts on that sleeve too, quickly rolling it up to match the other one.

"There." She admires her handiwork, then looks up at him, finding him much closer than she'd thought, his eyes dark and focused solely on hers. That warmth from his smile earlier is in his gaze now once more, and it makes something tug within her, for him. Only for him. She takes a step back, drops her hands from his arm.

"How do I look?" he asks, brushing his shirt down a little, and she tries not to smirk at him, instead just tilting her head.

"You look great, Chuck," she says, voice purposefully light, because oh, if only he knew how good he really looked. Something about Chuck in a button down makes him look far more attractive than she thinks he has any right to be. She clears her throat once more. "Do I still look okay? I think I got some glitter on me from the banners earlier and I don't know if I missed a spot."

He shakes his head.

"You look amazing. You always do, Sarah,"

Ignoring the intense flush she feels burning through her again, she reaches out a hand, hearing yet more voices and people fill the apartment.

"You ready?"

Nodding, he takes a deep breath, then slips her fingers into his.

"As I'll ever be."

With that, he steps forward, and she moves too, pulling his bedroom door open, and those muffled voices become clearer, much louder, and jeez, Sarah thinks, there must be a lot of people here already. A lot of people to meet, a lot of people to be introduced to, and, likely, a lot of people to judge her, too. If they've known Chuck for any amount of time, meeting his new girlfriend will probably involve some sizing-up, and Sarah really hasn't had to go through much of that so far. If their relationship were remotely real, tonight would probably be a big, big test.

But it isn't. And so she tightens her hand in his, and they head out into the hall, ready to face the firing squad.

"God, you're such a dorky dancer." he says, chuckling by her side, and she turns to him in indignation as her arms fall to her sides. She sees him scramble for an excuse, adorably, and has to suppress a smile at his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

"Says you." she retorts, poking him in the shoulder, and she smirks at the memory of his weird shuffling moves last week at the Buy More Christmas party. His face falls in annoyance similar to her own a moment ago, and she can see he's about to protest when he evidently realizes she's turned the tables, expression turning to a smirk.

"Oh, that's how it's gonna be, okay sure touché," he mutters, suddenly pulling her closer, his hands on her hips, and she tenses instantly, before a couple she doesn't know squeezes past them in the small gap just freed up, and she realizes Chuck was just being helpful, of course. She can't help but wonder, though, if perhaps he had a slight ulterior motive, since he makes no effort to move her from their new close proximity, dancing together, and Sarah certainly doesn't make to move away herself. It's nice. Beyond nice, really, though she won't contemplate that, and as somebody else slips past them, she settles on dancing instead.

Though guests only started arriving about fifteen minutes ago, the apartment is busy already, filled with people Sarah just met in a blur, friends of Ellie, friends of Devon, friends of both of them, some people Chuck used to know years ago, she's just met them all, been introduced over and over again, and frankly, pressed up against Chuck now, dancing, is a relief, even if they are squished into a tiny space by the couch, even if people do have to squeeze past them to get by.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to ask. We're okay, right?"

Chuck's voice is quiet over the loud music playing out, and the so sudden change in his tone startles her. She'd fully expected happy silly (probably tipsy later on) Chuck tonight, not the somber one she sees all too often, who knows his head is full of secrets and his life is in constant danger. With the way he'd been at the briefing and then greeting her earlier, Sarah had been given no warning that this Chuck would surface. She'd hoped telling him not to think about the cover would keep these questions at bay, and yet he's asking anyway. Evidently, they're less over their fight, their kiss, than she'd thought.

"Yes, of course." she murmurs in reply, keeping her voice steady and even as she tries her best to reassure him. It should be easier than it is, but she honestly feels like she's lying to him a little; though they're good, better than they were, really, she's all too aware of the longing and unease that seems to run between them now. She'd felt it in his room earlier, that want she can't seem to keep away for him anymore, she'd felt it in their grins, she'd felt it in the way he'd smiled at her even exhausted and late for the meeting this morning. It's not not okay, she supposes, but it's not what they were before.

But perhaps they can't go back to before. Perhaps this feeling is their new, post-kiss, normal.

He nods, mouth opening as if to speak again, but another person passes by them, and Sarah tries not to stiffen in Chuck's arms as she feels as one of his hands slip to her lower back to pull her closer, pressing them together, her chest brushing against his. His touch is nothing overt or indecent of course, it's Chuck, she's sure he wouldn't dare, but his hand is still warm and anchoring at the bottom of her spine, the feeling both so new and so familiar somehow it makes her head spin momentarily. As if reading her earlier thoughts, he glances across the room to the large Christmas tree still set up prettily in front of the window, and she knows despite their making up before Christmas, their argument is still weighing heavily on his mind. She can't blame him, it's been occupying her thoughts a fair bit too, her shouts echoing in her ears late at night.

"I hate fighting with you, Sarah," he murmurs, and she raises a hand to his chest as some sort of reassurance, idly wondering if they're pretending to be dancing or just pretending to be in love right now, but keeps the errant thoughts at bay. Instead, she suppresses the childish retort that rises in her throat that points out he hasn't really fought with her because if he had, he'd be on the ground in a great deal of pain. When they have fought, actually, those times in this very apartment, in his bed or in this same room, she's always felt the wounded one.

"Me too." she says, looking up at him and slipping her arms around his neck, and the ache in his eyes fades to leave a content look she doesn't want to contemplate.

He grins briefly, radiant and warm, and making her grin in reply instinctively, and it fades only for him to lean in and brush his lips against her cheek, soft and tender. She has to stop herself from flinching at the unexpected contact.

"What was that for?" she asks, once he's pulled back and is staring at something apparently fascinating on her shoulder, clearly a little awkward. Whatever his reason, she's still surprised- cover or not, for Chuck to be diving into the PDA is a little surprising. She knows it makes him uncomfortable, cuddling up, kissing her, selling the cover in public, he's a private person, being all loved-up has made him awkward all the time she's known him, and he rarely initiates anything. She's the one who hugs him, kisses him, she's the one who slips her hand into his in the Buy More or something, she's the one who curls up next to him on the couch if Ellie and Devon are here. This, is a first.

"I know you said to forget about the cover, but it's New Years," he says, voice low as he actually reaches up to her shoulder and tugs on the fabric of her shirt a little. She wonders if it's fraying or something since it's holding his attention so dedicatedly, or if he's just avoiding her gaze. "Not just Ellie would be suspicious if we weren't, y'know..."

"All over each other?" she completes, before she's really thought it through, and his eyes snap to hers again suddenly, questioning and burning.

Oh crap. She shouldn't have said that. Being so blunt with him worked before they kissed, sure, it made him flush and choke rather sweetly every time, but now they're stuck in this weird world where they know what each other's tongue tastes like, and she knows being so blatant can't be a good idea. Isn't a good idea. It puts ideas in both of their minds that they both know they can't pay attention to. Ignoring her words entirely, she clears her throat, changing her gaze to scan the small crowd assembled in the apartment, and sure enough, Ellie is staring right over in their direction even when in conversation with someone, smiling a little at them.

Keep up the cover, Sarah thinks. Just get through it. Stepping back, she slips her hand into Chuck's, starts heading toward the kitchen.

"C'mon, let's go get a drink."

True to her thoughts, the buckets on the counter had been filled with ice when she'd been decorating the courtyard, and as she tugs two beers out of the thawing cooler it's not hard to miss the mess the kitchen-bar is already in, how many already open bottles of various spirits, caps flung around on the counter with no thought given, are scattered around them. Perhaps Chuck isn't the only one likely to be tipsy by the end of the night, but she supposes she should've seen that coming.

Twisting the caps off the beers, she hands the drink over to him, and leans back against a slightly free space of counter, about to take a sip of her own beer when Ellie suddenly walks into the kitchen, a giant grin on her face, and Sarah steps closer to Chuck as his arm slips round her waist in one well prepared routine.

"Aww, look at you guys!" Ellie says, reaching for the bottle of vodka, and Sarah raises an eyebrow in Chuck's direction at his sister's enthusiasm.

"It's a great party, Ellie," she says, taking a sip of her beer and hoping to divert the attention from the two of them. The brunette smiles before focusing back on her drink, pouring a generous measure of vodka into her glass before chasing it with a disproportionately small amount of tonic.

"Wow, going big tonight, huh sis?" Chuck asks, his voice reverberating through Sarah due to their close proximity, and she leans a little closer into him. His fingers slip further round her hip in response, sending a thrill through her that she promptly ignores.

"It's New Years, Chuck! Devon and I aren't on call and we've both got tomorrow off and- Oh you guys are so cute!" Ellie beams at them, now turned round with a full drink in her hand. Neither of them appear to know quite what to say, so Sarah looks up and sees Chuck apparently settling for sending his sister an awkward grin. "It's your first New Years together, guys, how cute is that?" Ellie continues, and Sarah feels herself tensing even with alcohol in one hand and Chuck's arm wrapped so tightly round her. He squeezes her waist briefly, and she almost kisses him at the reassuring gesture.

"Yeah, uh, pretty- pretty special, El."

Sarah feels more than sees him lean over and press a kiss to the crown of her head, and she looks down to her shoes with a forced grin, avoiding both Ellie's prying gaze and the look in Chuck's eyes- probably warm and loving and all she needs. She hears one more Aww and then the retreating sound of heels, and she can't help but release a heavy breath when she looks up and finds she and Chuck have the kitchen all to themselves again.

She gulps a mouthful of beer as he chuckles and loosens his grip on her side.

"Oh she's not that bad, is she?" he asks, taking a sip of his own drink, and though he's joking she knows there's a little bit of him perhaps asking for real.

"No, no, she's... She's very sweet, to care this much about us, about you. And she's a great friend and a great sister. But she's just..."

"Intense?" he offers, raising a shoulder in a shrug, and she grimaces apologetically.

"Yeah. I've had trainers at The Farm who paid less attention to me."

Chuck laughs and sets his drink down before reaching for her hand. She laces her fingers through his instinctively, though frowns a little at him, questioning.

"Trust me, after this many years with Ellie, you get used to the intensity. You've known her three months, give it time." Her heart skips a little at his implication, that he thinks-hopes?- she'll be around long enough to adjust to his sister's slight madness, but she doesn't have time to ponder it as he grips her fingers tighter. "Now, dance with me."

"But we only just-"

"Sarah," he teases, grinning at her a little cheekily, and tugs on her arm lightly as he steps back. She only has a moment to put her beer down before he drags her out of the kitchen and they tumble out onto the dance floor, Chuck in laughter and her with a shriek. A couple of heads turn at the ruckus, but Sarah just grins and starts to move closer to Chuck; the attention is good for the cover, and as she'd noted earlier, when she's dancing here with him, they're away from prying siblings and neighbors and friends who apparently just love to bombard with their questions. It's fun. It's real.

Chuck hums a little when he dances, she's learned, first at the Buy More party and then today. If he knows the tune, he bites his lip and hums along quietly, and it makes her laugh. She knows he knows this, because he keeps humming, and it keeps making her smile, and as they find a space in amongst other people and begin to dance, right now is no exception.

"Do you know this song?" she yells into his ear, stepping into him, her arm curled round his shoulder as they sway to the music, which is so loud she can barely hear herself think. She's sure they must be standing nearer a speaker than they were before, that, or someone's turned this track up for some reason.

"Yeah, don't you?" She scrambles for an answer that won't disappoint him, and she sees him tilt his head and eye her flustered expression. "Actually, don't answer that, we really need to work on your music knowledge, Sarah."

"We're a little busy nowadays," She trails her hand up his shoulder, about to slip her arms around his neck to dance, but she suddenly stops and braces herself as she sees one of Awesome's frat buddies moving toward them, and as Chuck's arms tense round her waist, she realizes he's spied the guy too. She steps a little closer.

Though Devon may be one of the nicest guys Sarah's ever met, and may not fulfil the stereotypes of his initial appearance, some of his friends aren't quite the same, she's realized. She'd first noticed it when they'd all headed to Stanford for that weird mission at Chuck's alma mater, chasing old leads from Bryce; the guys had gawped a little at her, looked between her and Chuck in disbelief, and they've been just the same tonight. They're respectful people, sure, Sarah doubts Devon would be friends with them if they weren't, but she's learnt that they find her being with Chuck perplexing, and aren't above implying so. The double takes they'd done when they met her, the surprise they'd shown when they'd found out she and Chuck were still together, the weird stunned congratulations they'd offered Chuck like they thought she couldn't hear, the way they'd started murmuring things to each other once they'd stepped past, it's not subtle, and she knows it irks them both.

"Dude, this party's sick," the guy, Sam? Dwayne? Todd? says as he steps up to them, vaguely looking in Chuck's direction before turning his gaze to Sarah. She squeezes Chuck's arm in pre-emptive reassurance. "Hey, uh, Chuck man, you mind if I steal your girl for a dance?"

She speaks before Chuck can.

"You mind asking me first? And no thanks, I'm good here."

"No problem." Chad? says, backing off with arms raised in surrender, but Sarah still sees the confused glance he sends Chuck, and she slips both arms round her cover boyfriend's neck as she'd planned to do, while the frat boy walks away. She kisses Chuck's cheek to distract herself.

"Why is Devon friends with these guys?" she murmurs, pulling back.

Chuck clears his throat, shrugging awkwardly before loosening his grip just a little and starting to sway again.

"They're not that bad, really, he's known them since high school. Just, one of the last times they saw me was my birthday party, where I was still, y'know, nerdy and single and completely unable to talk to anyone, let alone someone..." He blushes, moves past the compliment she thinks he was just about to pay her. "Devon and Ellie might not suspect you being with me, but his frat buddies, not so much."

"It's not that unlikely," she says, thinking back to that day when she was handed a file in Graham's office and told to head to LA to meet the nerd they'd traced the Intersect to. Graham had thought she'd connect with Chuck, a cheap way of saying she should essentially flirt with him, seduce him, since they had no common interests she could even fake. But when she'd skimmed through the file on her way to the Buy More, she didn't think it too far a stretch that she'd like him. He was lonely, the info said, awkward, lived with his family, loved computer games, was dedicated to his work, everything the then-betraying Bryce hadn't been, at least to her knowledge at that time. Chuck Bartowski on paper seemed nice, simple, friendly. Chuck Bartowski in person, stunned and dropping the phone at the Nerd Herd desk, and saving a little girl's day, was something else entirely. If Sarah were honest with herself, things changed for her the first time he'd smiled at her, when she'd seen the innocence, the open warmth in his gaze. She fell for him there and then.

"No, it really, really is. Sarah, you didn't know me then, I was a mess. Why'd you think I didn't call you after you left your card that first day, do you think I didn't wanna call? God, you were... Everything. And I was just a nerd."

She frowns, stops and looks up at him, her heart racing at his words. She feels like she's standing across from him in the Buy More all over again, the memory clear as day.

"Chuck." He stills his swaying, her firm tone having the intended effect. "It's not that unlikely."

With widening eyes, his bashful look fades to realization, and disbelief, too, and she knows she shouldn't, she does, they're messed up enough as it is and they've just recovered from their last kiss, but she can't let him think he isn't everything to her, she can't let Awesome's frat buddies win. And so she leans in, and she kisses him.

It's sweet and quick and nothing like their last kiss when their lives were on the line. His arms don't roam her body, just tighten again round her waist, hands slipping against her hips so softly she can barely feel them, though she does, oh, she does. She doesn't run her hands through his hair or clutch at his face or curl his shirt into a fist in her palm, instead she just cups his cheeks, gently, lightly, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her hands. There's no real cover reason, no ulterior motive, no promise of near death and no reason to avoid talking about her actions later on. It's just a kiss, because she wanted to. Again.

When she pulls back, his eyes are wide with awe, his breath heavy as it falls over her face despite the shallow nature of their kiss. He licks his lips, and her stomach flips.

"Okay." he says, his voice a little cracked. "Okay."

She finds a chance to sit down at 10pm, grabbing the chair the moment it frees up. The seat is still warm from the previous occupant, a nurse called Louisa who Ellie introduced her to earlier- the woman had eyed Sarah uneasily then, and she's yet to figure out why- but despite the warmth, Sarah's aching feet cry out in relief as soon as the weight is off them, and she can't begrudge her urgency.

"Hey, Sarah," Ellie says from her position on the couch, as she rolls her head away from the person she's talking to, someone Sarah definitely doesn't know, and shuffles over. The various vodka tonics must have finally hit, Sarah thinks, eyeing her friend's heavy eyes and lazy grin, and Sarah sips only her third beer of the night with just a little envy. You can't be a handler for a government asset if you're drunk, even if you have a sober partner to back you up, and though Casey is apparently being a bouncer now, standing in front of the door with his arms folded in front of him, she still doesn't want to chance it.

"Where's Chuck?" Ellie continues, and Sarah scans the room to confirm what she already knows.

"Talking to Morgan." Or more accurately, she realizes, as she spies her cover-boyfriend, Morgan is laughing hysterically and leaning heavily on Chuck whilst flinging a solo cup around. Chuck, to his credit, looks fairly unamused at his friend's drunken antics. He must spy her eyes on him, for he turns to her, smiles just a little, all cute.

"Good!"

Sarah turns back to Ellie with a raised eyebrow, stunned a little to see the brunette is leaning much closer to her, grinning almost manically, and sends a desperate look in Chuck's direction again only to find he's looking the other way, now holding Morgan at a distance with a palm to his forehead as the bearded guy demonstrates some truly awful Kung Fu.

"Sarah, do you like my brother?" Ellie asks, tone demanding and leaving no room for argument, and Sarah blinks, startles at the question.

"Yes, Ellie. Of- of course I do!" she finds herself insisting, swearing anything to get Chuck's sister off her back. She likes Ellie, she does, nights like tonight included, and she'd like to think they're good friends, but the woman wouldn't know how to back off if you wrote a fifty-page manual on the subject, and that's what always makes Sarah so anxious in her company.

"I'm so happy you do, because, because you guys seemed a little off just before Christmas and I was so worried because if you guys really broke up, god, it would just kill Chuck, and I can't deal with that again Sarah, I really can't and I-"

"Ellie." she says, and Ellie closes her mouth abruptly. It's not lost on Sarah that the sharp tone she'd used on Chuck earlier also silences his drunken sister. Perhaps it's a Bartowski thing, or maybe she's just scarier than she thought. "We're not gonna break up anytime soon, I promise."

She aims for reassuring but probably fails, if the twisting in her stomach at the blatant blatant lie she's just told is anything to go by. Because, Sarah knows, she can't promise anything to Ellie, not one thing, not that she won't leave Chuck and also not that Chuck won't leave altogether. She's not stupid, she knows Graham and Beckman are apprehensive about Chuck being out in the field, especially after he almost died after staying with her right in front of what they all thought was a bomb, and she knows they'll jump at the first chance now to pull him away to the safety of a padded cell and artificial light. They might lose him, they could lose him, any day.

Ellie merely beams at her, evidently fooled and drunk, and she's about to say something else when Chuck bounds over, ever Sarah's savior, apparently having freed himself from Morgan's company.

"Hey El, I think Devon was looking for you out in the courtyard, something about running out of cheese puffs?"

Sarah can't help but laugh as Ellie instantly jumps out of her seat and makes a beeline for the door. Even when drunk, Ellie Bartowski wishes to be the perfect party planner.

"Was she grilling you about us?" Chuck says, slipping into the seat his sister just occupied, a very new-looking-beer in hand.

Sipping her own lukewarm beer still a little sadly, Sarah reaches out and slips her free hand into his, all too aware they're sat spaced far apart, him on the couch and her on a chair, a stark contrast to their earlier PDA-heavy cover. They need to keep up appearances. And perhaps she also just likes the contact.

"Big time." she murmurs, idly playing with his fingers as she tests her feet on the ground once more. Her toes protest at even the slightest contact with the floor and she sighs, downing the rest of her beer and settling further into the chair.

"I don't think Morgan's gonna make it to midnight."

Chuck reaches for the bowl of m&ms on the coffee table as he speaks, and she looks back to where Morgan was last to see he's now leaning on a disgruntled looking frat boy, attempting to sway in a dance.

She steals some of the candy when Chuck leans back and he only smirks at her.

"How much has he had to drink?"

"Mhm? Oh, like two beers? I think he's just come down from his sugar high, though, so that explains things." She laughs, she can't help it, because of course the bearded man isn't about to pass out from excessive alcohol consumption, but instead from a sugar crash, like a six year old, and Chuck grins in reply, nose crinkling a little that way she so loves. "You wanna dance again?"

He squeezes her fingers in his, and the shy expression on his face is all she needs to immediately quash the complaints of her feet and stand up, tugging on his hand and dragging him up to the makeshift dancefloor for a great deal more dancing.

A half hour later, though, she somehow finds herself standing in the kitchen-bar with a fourth tequila shot in her hand, and she has very little clue as to how she got into this situation. She's kinda positive Chuck's increasing tipsiness probably has everything to do with it. Casey's still standing by the door, now engaged in conversation with a doctor Sarah met when she first arrived at the party but whose name she's already forgotten, but his arms are still folded and his stance is still tense and guarded, so she figures a couple shots can do no harm. Or at least she hopes that logic works, since she's already three shots down.

Turning back to the circle that's formed of her, Chuck, Ellie, and Devon, she grimaces as the countdown from three begins once more. The salt stings her tongue and the tequila burns in her throat and she chases the lime just a little too slow, but she finds herself laughing as she opens her eyes afterward despite herself.

Ellie is leaning fully against Devon, still sucking on the lime whilst her boyfriend looks completely unfazed. Chuck is wheezing to Sarah's left and she can't help but adore him just a little bit more.

"Yeah, my brain just dissolved." he murmurs, reaching out for her, and she slips into his side instantly whilst his arm works its way round her side so familiarly. She's lost count of how many times he's done that this night alone. "I haven't done that many shots in a row since college, oh my god,"

She grins up at him before he's even finished his sentence, her vision hazing just a little. She's a spy, not a lightweight, but even she can't resist tequila and beer and that vodka tonic Ellie handed her and she just kept, not all together.

"Me neither," she says, adding to the cover for the benefit of the little crowd in the kitchen, but hoping Chuck won't be too interested in the lie. Though she's had far more shots in clubs before, she can't remember the last time they hadn't been bought by a mark, or paid for with dirty money. And she certainly hadn't been surrounded by the comforting presence of friends or the warm, warm embrace of the man she- cares about, stood right by her side.

Alcohol-fuelled silence falls and Ellie cuddles into Devon, and from her view of the hallway, Sarah sees another couple wrapped up in each other, hell, even Casey's sharing a laugh at the door with the doctor, and so she turns to Chuck with a smile.

"Hi." She finds herself whispering, as if the moment is somewhat private.

"Hey." he says back, voice just as quiet, and she reaches up to plant a cover kiss to his cheek before sliding her arms round him for some very real cuddling.

She normally hates cuddling, but she daren't tell Chuck that; despite his dislike for PDA, he's one of the most tactile men she's ever 'been with', though their definition of that term is certainly different to that of her past relationships. But, the man likes contact, whether it be her hand in his or his arm round her waist or even just their shoulders touching as they sit next to each other, and she's very aware that when they're selling the cover, he likes to be near her. As Chuck's hands now travel a little over her back, too, she realizes he evidently only gets more tactile the more alcohol he's had. He runs his hand through the ends of her hair where it falls in the middle of her back, and she smiles into his chest. When it's with Chuck, Sarah thinks she could cuddle all day.

"We should probably move," he murmurs, minutes later, and when she pulls out of his embrace she realizes Ellie and Devon are gone, off to chat with more guests, and that couple in the hallway have vanished, leaving just herself and Chuck, so caught up in each other it's just the two of them.

"Yeah."

She must be more drunk than she'd thought, since as they make their way out of the kitchen, she grabs his hand again and pulls him back to plant a hurried kiss to his lips. His skin flushes red, but she sees the smile he sends to the ground as they head out to socialize again, dancing, and going from person to person, hand-in-hand the whole time.

Later on, at 11:45, Ellie turns off the music and switches on the TV, and a loud murmur sounds out through the room. Everyone huddles around it quickly, one moving mass of people, and Sarah's about to move too since that seems to be the expected thing, but Chuck doesn't shift at all, keeps his arm around her waist, and she guesses they're both fine to hang around the Christmas tree.

"Woah." she says, stunned at the mass movement, and Chuck's hand moves from her waist to stroke up and down her arm as he looks down at her.

"What, that? That's normal." he replies, voice getting louder as his sentence's progressing coincides with Ellie turning the television volume up. The people unfortunate enough to be outside in the courtyard, now blocked from entering the apartment by a barricade of people, sound an appreciate yell at clearly now being able to hear the TV coverage.

As she eyes the TV with intrigue, Sarah pretends she doesn't feel herself moving into Chuck, a hand reaching up to play with the material of his shirt absentmindedly, twisting so her side presses against him, her head on his chest as she looks out across the room. A panning helicopter shot of darkened New York cuts to a young presenter Sarah wouldn't be able to name, and as she notices the countdown ever-present in the corner of the screen, the crowd in the apartment cheer at a band getting up on stage.

"I wouldn't know," she says, because she really doesn't. This whole night has felt unfamiliar, new.

"What, you- Sarah, where were you New Year's Eve last year?" Chuck asks, blatant, leaning down a little likely to be heard over the noise. She'd normally be annoyed at his forwardness, but he's a little drunk and she's a little drunk, and if she got annoyed at him she'd have to let go of him and she's not sure how she feels about that. Out of the window she just about sees Casey walking round the courtyard, trapped there, and fiddling with a cigar in his hand.

"Guatemala."

"Oh. I guess Burbank must really suck in comparison, then."

"No, Chuck, I was-" she almost stops, almost doesn't let him win, because she knows he's only joking anyway, only faking being affronted and defensive of his home and his life, but the countdown reaches 11:50 and she doesn't want to get to midnight on a sour note. Pushing away from him a little, she looks up at him, feeling his hand shift on her back. "It was a mission, a rogue agent had fled the country and gone to Guatemala. I think at midnight I was tied up in a basement. I was on a plane back to DC with the agent captured at 3AM, I didn't even realize it was 2007 until we landed. I haven't had a 'normal' New Year's in a very long time, Chuck."

"I'm sorry." he murmurs, always apologetic, and she's about to chastise him for it when he cups her cheek momentarily, palm molded so well to her skin, and she can only send him a smile before he pulls back, arm slipping round her again.

"Chuck?" She blinks slowly, thoughts swarming her mind, and she half-thinks that she wouldn't keep going if she were sober, but she's not. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

She looks back to the TV briefly, seeing a montage of the past year playing over shots of the city, a fairly nice tune she doesn't recognize accompanying the video.

"I'm glad I spent my first free New Year's Eve in a long time here, with your family. And I... Thank you, for being here with me."

"Always." he says, instantly, and she looks up at him to see him smiling softly down at her, and in that moment, she truly, truly believes him.

The countdown clicks to 11:55, and a big 'Five Minutes To Go' flashes up on the screen as Ellie somehow maneuvers herself around the melee of people whilst holding a tray of drinks. She hands out the small glasses of Champagne with remarkable steadiness, and Sarah can't help but be impressed at the Bartowski determination to be a good host. Devon makes his way round with a tray too, somehow handing some drinks to the people in the courtyard as well, and when the time changes to 11:59, Sarah's positive every attendee of the party, including Morgan who she can't see but she's sure is propped up against a wall somewhere, has a drink in their hands. However, despite the drink, Chuck's arm round her waist tenses as a big countdown of numbers appears on the TV screen, and the sudden stiff stillness of his touch feels alien to Sarah after hours of alcohol-induced relaxation and lazy loose touches. And she knows exactly why he's suddenly on edge, why he's worried. It's New Year's Eve. And they're a couple. And there are expectations here.

She takes his glass from his hands, setting it down alongside her own on the table next to them.

The screen flashes 30 and Chuck grabs both her hands in his own.

"Sarah, I-"

"It's okay, Chuck." she says, her heart pounding and pounding in her chest, and she tries to keep her breath under control at the suddenly seemingly everlasting countdown.

He frowns.

"Wait, it is?"

"It is."

As she nods, she sees something flash across his face, an expression she's seen a couple times before but has so far been unable to name, and this time is no different. It's pain and warmth and affection and openness and giving and everything rolled into one, and it makes something in the pit of her stomach tense in anticipation. In want.

"10," The room starts to chant, and she can't ponder on his look any longer, can barely hear herself think at all over the loud television and the unified voices of the crowd and the roaring of her pulse in her ears.

She reaches for him at "1", and their lips meet at midnight.

She gives him everything she can muster in that moment, everything. The kiss is desperate and hurried and messy, just like that kiss in front of the shipping container, but tonight she knows it's not because they're about to die, but because they're living. His breath is so hot against her lips it takes her breath away, and his tongue probes her mouth again so unknown and so familiar she aches. Something bubbles up within her, something she can't name, won't name, but she knows she doesn't want this to end, ever.

Her hands tangle in his hair, angling his head just so, pulling him down so she can explore his mouth, every bit of it, and he seems eager to do the same. His hands roam her back, mapping out her skin, and she whimpers against him when his fingers catch the loose fabric of her shirt and brush under to feel her skin ever so briefly. His touch is hot, burning a trail along with it, and she groans quietly into his mouth at the feeling. He clutches her closer at the sound, and she feels her chest pressed right against his, every bit of them linked somehow. She lightly catches his lip in her teeth, just briefly, and he shudders against her, the feeling just enough that it pulls her from the hazy space of her mind, and though she hates it, she tears her lips from his.

When she steps back and peels her eyes open, his hair is a mess, his skin is flushed, his lips bright red from the contact. She can't feel any specific eyes on her, so they didn't attract an audience, but one stunned look from Chuck is all she needs to know that they were desperately close to gaining one. Her back still feels singed from his touch, so searing, so confident.

She grabs their flutes of champagne, handing him his before downing hers in one firm mouthful.

"Happy New Year, Chuck."

As she speaks, her voice is rough, breathless, and Chuck just raises an eyebrow, chest heaving, before he tips back his own drink.

"Happy New Year, Sarah."

The clock reads 3AM, but she's sure it must be broken somehow. She's positive it's at least 7 in the morning- the light may not be streaming in through the windows yet, but her exhaustion rarely lies.

A sound emanates from the floor, and she looks in front of the coffee table to find Morgan rolling over in his sleep, crushing a couple of empty solo cups in the process. When he'd first crawled onto the floor, Sarah had been concerned for the guy, sleeping on only a stray couch cushion, but Chuck had assured her his friend has slept on far less support before, and Morgan's peaceful rest only seems to now cement that fact.

The distraction over with, she shifts, turning so she's leaning back against Chuck's chest and looking up at him, unable to keep the smile off her face. She finds him smiling right back at her, and leans in to brush her lips against his jaw, just briefly.

"They're so cute aren't they so cute Devon," Ellie slurs from the other end of the couch, more all one word than a full sentence, and Devon grunts in agreement where he's essentially supporting his weight fully on Ellie's shoulder. The alcohol finally got to him around 2am, and Sarah's witnessed the poor guy's descent into tipsy sleepiness since then.

"We're so cute." Chuck agrees, his fingers dancing with hers in a silly way, before he brings her hand to his lips to kiss it, and she doesn't even try to ignore the flip flop her stomach does before agreeing.

"Yes we are."

"Yes you are!" Ellie chimes in again, apparently having forgotten she was the one who began that conversation, and Sarah only has to raise an eyebrow at Chuck before he laughs lightly.

"El, I think we should all maybe think about getting to bed." he suggests, and it takes two full seconds before Ellie responds vehemently, bounding up off the couch and evidently surprising Devon, who slips against the fabric to wind up head first in the empty space his girlfriend had just occupied.

"I'm so wasted." he murmurs into the cushion. "Not awesome."

A few minutes of tugging on his arm later, Ellie eventually gets her boyfriend to move, and after slurred and brief goodnights she drags him up off the couch and narrowly prevents him from tripping over a guy asleep in the hallway. Oddly enough, though, the usual relief that Sarah feels when the two exit, leaving it just herself and Chuck and nobody to keep up the cover for, doesn't come. Instead, a sour emptiness fills her, knowing and sad, and she sits up and clambers out of Chuck's lap, letting go of his hand, instincts and training still kicking in despite the sure-fire tipsiness she feels. It's a downside of becoming a spy as a child, she supposes, it's hard to forget the orders that have been drilled into her for years. The cameras are on, the surveillance running 24/7 like always, and with the room empty of any awake individuals, there's no reason for her to be clinging to Chuck anymore. Which really, really, sucks.

"We should go sleep too." he says next to her, voice surprisingly clear for someone so drunk, but she takes one look at him and decides the funny grin on his face takes any meaning in his clarity away.

"Yeah," she replies, a little sad that the night must end. Though she may regret the alcohol in the morning, she's been by Chuck's side since 6pm, more or less, and on reflection, the feeling is incredible. And that kiss, oh that kiss. The multiple kisses were good but that kiss at midnight was just incredible, and she hasn't been able to stop thinking of it, or stop planting kisses to his neck and his cheek and his hand since. He's been just as tactile in return, and for both of their sakes she hasn't found the willpower to regret it.

When she stands, the room only spins a little, and she's relieved when Chuck manages to stand up fairly decently too. He slips his hand into hers immediately, a constant, and she consoles the sadness in her that reminds her they probably shouldn't be doing that, with the fact that they'll likely spend the night entwined too, even if just as a result of their sleeping bodies side by side in his bed. That training might be drilled into her mind when she's awake, but asleep, her guard is down just the tiniest bit, and she knows, somehow, that she'll likely drift to his presence in the middle of the night, reach out for him and curl into his warmth.

Sighing at the thought, she tugs on his hand and starts walking, and they get to the hallway with no problems. When they reach that person passed out on the floor, though, where she navigates him with ease, she hears a commotion behind her after she moves forward, and she turns around to see Chuck tripping over the guy's outstretched leg and beginning to topple to the floor. Instincts kick in, and she grabs him just in time, hooking her arms under his and catching his weight, leaning against the wall to take the brunt of his tumble.

"Hey, what the..." the man murmurs, and when he looks up Sarah realizes it's that frat buddy from earlier today, the one who'd tried to dance with her. Josh, it dawns on her, but she doesn't think about that as she realizes that oh, she and Chuck are very very close right now. And, someone in the apartment is awake. They have someone to sell the cover to.

Chuck seems to have the same realization as her, because with no hesitation at all, he presses right up against her, and kisses her. It's slower this time, less desperate and more calm, like they've got time to explore and test and feel. His tongue slips in and out of her mouth, brushing against her lip, and she groans a little louder than she did earlier. His hands tighten on her hips at the sound, tilting her waist to his, and she moans again at the contact, reaching up to press against him more. She finds the hem of Chuck's shirt, that shirt she'd found so very nice when she'd seen him buttoning it up earlier, and she slips her fingers under the fabric like he'd done to her at midnight, dances her fingers over the skin that had been so tempting earlier this evening, satisfied when he whimpers against her mouth, a keening sound coming from his throat as he pulls her even closer. She breaks the kiss from his mouth only to trail hers to the corner of it, to his jaw, to his neck, and then back to his lips all over again, and he groans, breathing heavily against her, gasping, sending her crazy.

And then, out of nowhere, "Way to go, dude!" sounds out, slurred words from the frat boy on the floor, and they both break apart suddenly. Sarah feels a little like she's just gotten caught, been scolded, but a quick look to the floor finds that the guy has already fallen back asleep against the hardwood, snoring softly, and she sighs. As annoying as the interruption definitely was, it might've been for the best. That was beyond close. Again. Somehow, every time she kisses Chuck, she gets closer and closer to the point of no return, such is the temptation of him, the pull.

As if hearing her thoughts, he clears his throat.

"We should, uh, we should really get to bed." he whispers, lips still brushing hers, and he steals another quick- sneaky- kiss from her before pulling back. She moves her hands out from under his shirt regretfully, and waits for him to slip into his room before she follows.

She did bring pajamas, but she suddenly finds she can't really be bothered going to change into them, so, wordlessly heading over to his closer, she pulls one of Chuck's t-shirts, and though she contemplates teasing him for just a second, she knows it could never lead anywhere and in her tipsy state she'd definitely want it to. She settles for quickly slipping her shirt off before pulling his one on, relieved when it pools mid-thigh, then she toes out of her shoes and her jeans before undoing her bra underneath the safety of the shirt.

When she turns around, Chuck is in boxers and an undershirt, eyes wide and dark and focused on her, but she forces herself to look away and crawl into bed, and with a shake of his head he does the same.

He curls himself around her as soon as he's by her side, and though she should be surprised, she's honestly not. She suppresses a grin, even, when he kisses her shoulder. He's still ever the tactile one.

"Goodnight, Chuck," she murmurs, holding onto his arms to tighten his grip round her. "Happy New Year."

Face by her neck, he sighs against her skin, the content sound audible, and she can't help but love him a little more.

"Happy New Year, Sarah." he says for the second time today, and she wriggles a little in his grip before drifting to sleep, sure that whatever the new year brings, if Chuck is there, it'll be quite special indeed.

a/n 2: Again, if you liked it, please feel free to leave a review and let me know! Happy New Year! Let's hope 2018 is a good one!

-Kiera :)