Chuck Versus Thin Ice

By Steampunk . Chuckster

Summary: On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another.

A/N: Okay, this is really it. The epilogue. The very last chapter of Chuck Versus Thin Ice. It took me a long time because I needed it to be good. Better than good. As close to perfect as possible. It's definitely not perfect. But I did my best with it. I'm going to miss this story and these characters so much. Thanks to everyone who encouraged me, even if I sometimes shook my fist at you for it. I love every one of you for coming back and reading every last chapter, and for those of you who reviewed every chapter...Geez God. What great folks you all are. Thank from the bottom of my Charah-obsessed heart. Really. I can't tell you how much this whole experience has meant to me. And now... the epilogue ...

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK, and I'm not making any money from this.

Three weeks later…

"You're showing me awkward and I need chemistry, Chuck. Didn't you two start an entire hashtag on social media? Isn't that how you got your Olympic medal?"

"It was probably the curling that did that, George," Chuck couldn't stop himself from drawling sarcastically. He felt Sarah's chest bounce against his and heard her make a soft choking sound.

"I don't need your sass, Curls," the photographer said, even as he smiled a little.

Chuck let out a quiet chuckle and shook his head, dropping his hands from Sarah's waist. "I'm sorry, man. I'm just not a model. I'm terrible at this stuff. Looking pretty, posing…it's weird and feels super unnatural."

"You're doing just fine," George said, waving his hand. "You should've been here when I was trying to get pictures of those professional wrestler guys. Talk about unnatural… That was a shit show."

"Can I be here when you're photographing professional wrestlers? I mean, next time?" Chuck asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No."

Sarah laughed, then she grabbed Chuck's hands and put them back on her waist. "Look. Just ignore the camera completely and pretend you like me a little bit."

He wrinkled his nose and tilted his head. "I dunnooooo, that sounds really difficult. Considering how completely unlikable you are, I meeeeeeeean…"

Chuck laughed and tried to dodge her hand as it swatted at his shoulder. Her own laughter rang through the room as well as she kept trying to smack his head.

He thought he heard the clicking of George taking photos while they were play fighting, so he caught Sarah's hands mid-swat and pulled her in against his chest again

"Get on your marker before you do anything lovey, please," George's voice rang out, and Chuck took a large step forward to get them on the X of tape on the floor before he put his hands on her waist and pressed his forehead against hers, meeting her gaze and smiling a little.

"Thaaaaat's beautiful," the photographer drawled.

"Can we do a Charlie's Angels one?" he asked, then, and Sarah burst into laughter as they went back to back, making their fingers into guns. Chuck even popped his hip and smoldered over his shoulder at Sarah as she just continued laughing.

"Drop the guns, goofballs," George said, even though Chuck thought he heard him taking pictures anyway. "Stay back to back, look at the camera, and hold hands."

"Are we smiling?" Sarah asked.

"Do whatever feels natural."

Chuck smiled a bit crookedly without really meaning to and the camera flashed.

"Perfect. It's beautiful. Now look at each other."

As he turned to look at Sarah over his shoulder, her beaming smile put an immediate grin on his face and there was another flash.

"I think that's good! We've got it!" George stepped out from behind his camera and clapped his hands together. "You both did pretty good, considering all the horror stories I got from GQ about you, Chuck."

He felt himself pale.

"Just kidding."

"Oh! Ha … haha…that was good. That was a good one."

His girlfriend rocked forward with laughter.

"You can change out of this stuff. Leave it in the trailer and we'll take care of it. I'll know if you stole something, though. I'm talking to you, girlie. I saw the way you looked at those pumps."

"They're really nice pumps," Sarah said with a wince, making George smirk.

"Is Zondra around?" he asked over his shoulder as he started walking away from them.

"Miss Rizzo to you, George."

"Mister Thomas to you, Miss Rizzo." He spun on his heel and glared teasingly at their agent as she strode onto the set.

Sarah threaded her fingers in his then and pulled him away from Zondra and the photographer. He imagined they were tying up loose ends with the shoot, setting up the accompanying interview, and whatever else business was going on.

They walked together to the trailer. Chuck opened the door for her with a flourish and let her go in first, then he followed and shut and locked it behind him.

"I've been thinking about this. Should we be offended that they only gave us one trailer? Like, why don't we both get our own trailers? Not that I mind sharing a trailer with you, because I don't. Really."

Sarah had already slipped the gown she'd been wearing off and was stepping out of it, and he couldn't help thinking her legs were so long and he understood why women insisted on wearing heels because it really did wonderful things to calf muscles and…oh…she was saying something to him, wasn't she?

"…and I think it helps we're a couple. Like, not just partners, but a real, romantic couple."

"Oh. Yeah, good point." Even if he hadn't heard the first part.

He struggled a bit with his tie. "Did you and—You know what? Not gonna ask that. Just gonna…not." He blushed and continued tugging ineffectively at the knot.

Sarah was there, then, still in just her bra and underwear, having stepped out of her heels now. And she gently pushed his hands away so that she could efficiently loosen his tie and take it off, draping it over the nearby hanger.

"What?" she asked with a bit of a smirk. "Did Bryce and I get our own trailers? Sometimes we did. Sometimes we didn't. Sometimes there was no trailer. It was never this much of a production, though. This is way, way more serious." She froze then and he didn't really know how to take that. What she said and her reaction. "Um. I mean, they're way more serious about promoting us than they were about…about me and Bryce. You know?"

Chuck decided not to prolong her discomfort, even though he was wondering if she also felt like their relationship was more serious than hers had been with Bryce. A little over a month in and it felt serious to him. But he also knew it would be a little too intense to voice that. Is that why she'd blanched just then? Because she knew how it sounded? Because she knew it was intense to talk about the seriousness of their relationship? And why was he spiraling? He needed to not spiral right now. He needed to keep his head.

He cleared his throat.

"It might be the whole Olympic medal thing," he said, giving her a tentative smile.

"Maybe." She wrinkled her nose and giggled, pushing his suit jacket off of his shoulders, down his arms and holding it out for him to hang up himself. He sensed a bit of gratefulness in the way she smiled at him.

"Thanks."

"Mhm." She winked and went to her duffel to pull jeans out. He only watched her step into them for a second before he turned away and started unbuttoning, unzipping, and stripping down to his boxers. "This is our last one of these for a while, though, right? Please say yes."

"That I know of, but ask our agent. She's calling all the shots," he said.

She was quiet for a second and he glanced over to see her pulling a sweater over her head and tugging it down to cover her torso. "Do you not want her calling all the shots? Because if she offers us stuff and you don't want to do it, all you really have to do is say no. She's not a tyrant."

"No, no. It's not that. I wasn't being snotty or anything. I'm just saying, you know, she's got the schedule and the knowledge of the business, being an agent and experienced and stuff." Sarah sent him a long look. "Seriously. You know I've always been good with Zondra. And she's actually gotten to a point now where she doesn't look at me like she's in a permanent state of trying to figure out what you see in me." He chuckled as Sarah rolled her eyes. "She did look at me like that when we first met up with her in LA. Don't try to make me feel better about it. It's true. I saw it. I recognized it. And I totally understood it. I wonder the same thing every day."

Chuck slid his legs into his jeans and pulled them up, catching Sarah's annoyed look in his direction. "Stop it. I hate when you do that crap. You have been so good to me. And good for me. If I have to up the ante for you to get what I see in you, I will."

He raised his eyebrows cheekily. "I mean, it depends. What does upping the ante consist of? Like, what are we talking here?"

Sarah's cheeks reddened and she twisted her lips to the side. "I'm not answering that." Then she shook her head and cleared her throat. "Anyway, Zondra likes you now, even if she might not use those exact words."

There was a long pause and Chuck waited, watching her.

"You have to understand," she continued finally, putting her shoes on. "She's like my big sister in a way, like Jane kinda. And, also like Jane, she is a little protective sometimes. The way a sister might be. I'm sure Ellie is protective of you in that way." Chuck snorted and nodded. "See? And God, Zondra despised Bryce."

"Weeeeelll…"

Sarah giggled and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, good point. She wasn't my agent, then, though. I didn't need an agent like I apparently do now. But that's not the point. The point is that Zondra feels the need to keep an eye on me, 'cause she cares. That's all that business was with you." Chuck doubted that, but he wasn't at all bitter about it. He liked the idea of yet another person looking out for Sarah, even if that meant he was the one getting the dubious side-eye.

"But she's okay with you now," Sarah rushed. "I think she even respects you a lot."

"Why?" She eyed him as he put his white undershirt on and grabbed his button up from where he draped it over the back of the nearby chair. "I'm not being sarcastic or anything."

"Maybe she's had time to observe and she can tell that I'm genuinely happy. That you make me happy. That you actually care about me. Any number of things that might make her trust you. Trust you with me," she added.

Chuck felt himself beaming as he shrugged his button-up on and started buttoning it. "Score."

She sniffed in amusement and put her leather jacket on, pulling her hair out of the collar as there was a knock on the trailer door. Chuck hastened over to open it and found Zondra waiting there on the steps.

"Oh, good. You're dressed. I really didn't need to see you in your boxers again." She unceremoniously pushed past him to climb into the trailer.

"Okay, that was not my fault. You were knocking like someone who's being chased by Jason friggin' Voorhees, so I felt like I had to open the door immediately, boxers or not."

"Uh, thankfully you at least had your boxers," Zondra said with a disgusted look on her face.

She turned to give Sarah a look then and the blonde raised her hands up by her head. "Don't look at me to back you up, Z. I'm fine with him in no boxers whatsoever."

Chuck let out a choking sound as their agent groaned and shivered theatrically.

"ANYWAYS," Zondra snapped, trying and failing to hide her amusement. "You've got a few days before the interview. It'll be by phone and it'll be at my office downtown. Sound good?"

"Absolutely," Chuck growled in an Australian accent. Just because.

Zondra ignored him as Sarah sent him a slight eye roll. "But besides that, you get a little reprieve now. At least until after that bon-shpeel or whatever the hell those things are called."

"Bonspiel?" Sarah clarified.

"Doesn't matter. Normal sports just call them tournaments, but okay. I have an appointment to keep though, kids, so I have to jet out of here. We good? Any questions for me?"

"I have a question. Aren't we only, like, a couple of years younger than you? I mean, with the whole kids thing."

"Shut up, nerd." She half pushed him as she left the trailer, sending Sarah a wink over her shoulder before she was gone.

Chuck grabbed his jacket and tugged it on over his shirt before hurrying to tug his sneakers on. "I dunno how you feel about it, but I feel like this relationship has some definite legs." He chuckled. "I mean, right off the bat, it went through Olympic competition, then we spent a week traveling to LA, to New York, to Chicago, Madison, and back to LA and finally back home to San Jose. I mean, we know we travel well together now. We can do photoshoots and interviews, too. Props to us. And this whole living together thing on top of it. Look at how well we're doing. Like, I feel as though we're knocking this out of the park. How about you?"

Sarah chuckled and grabbed her bag, as he moved to do the same with his.

"I feel like you might be right about that, you goof." She moved in and pecked him on the lips. "Very right."

"And how is that different from any other time?"

He laughed as she snorted and shoved him towards the trailer door.

An hour later, they filed into their apartment after a commute from San Francisco where the shoot had taken place. Sarah went straight to her room to drop her bag off as Chuck simply left his own next to the door and went straight for the kitchen. "Want a beer?" he called.

"Nah, but can you pour me some juice?"

He giggled to himself, and he didn't know why. Maybe it was the way she said it. "Yes, I can pour you some juice."

He took the pomegranate juice out and poured it into a glass for her, then grabbed himself a beer. He walked down the hallway to stop at the doorway to her room, leaning against the frame and taking her in as she leaned forward then whipped her torso and head back to tuck her hair up into a high bun.

"Oh." She blinked, seeing him standing there a bit belatedly. "Thanks, handsome." She walked over and plucked the beer from his fingers, laughing at his "Hey!" as she took a swig before handing it back. "Just wanted a sip, that's all."

He snorted and shook his head, handing her the juice and taking a swig of his own beer.

"So, Chuck…See this? See this floor? How nice and clean and vacuumed it is?" she said then, toeing her shoes off and sweeping her feet over the floor. He just groaned and let his head fall back, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "I think this is what Ellie meant when she said you need to vacuum your room."

"Stopppppp," he groused. "God, I can't believe she said it loud enough for you to hear. I'm really not that messy. You agree with me, right? I'm pretty clean."

She laughed. "You are so much better than the roommates I had before this. Wanda left her bra on the couch sometimes. It wasn't even her couch. It was Tina's couch. And we'd, like, sit to watch TV or something and you'd feel something behind the pillow like 'what's this?' and pull it up and it's Wanda's freaking bra."

He snorted and took another swig. "I can't promise you won't find one of my bras in our couch."

Her laughter buoyed his spirits significantly. Not that his spirits were low by any means, but the traffic back to their place had been frustrating, to put it mildly. And he'd been the one behind the wheel.

But there was a lot to be happy about. It was overwhelming almost, the amount of things he had to be happy about. His Olympic medal was framed and mounted in his room, and he'd done the same thing for Sarah's two medals as sort of a gift when she was gone for a day hanging out with Jane, Anna, and Lou. He had the best roommate ever, and she also happened to be his girlfriend, and both of those things were going so well he sometimes had to pinch himself to make sure he was awake.

Granted, when they'd gotten back from their whirlwind promotion tour, that first night home had been almost tentative, awkward. Neither of them had seemed to know what to say, or what to do. At least for him, walking in that door, looking around at the apartment they'd shared for almost two months before PyeongChang, it had felt so different, but the same. It was their place, filled with their things, but they weren't the same anymore. They were different, things between them were different. When they left the apartment to go to the airport, they were just partners, still struggling with the almost kiss and repercussions of it. The very next time they stepped into their apartment, mere weeks later, they were still partners, but also romantic partners on top of the professional relationship. Things had changed between them in a big way.

They'd taken turns showering and then they'd gone into their respective rooms to sleep. They shared a quick kiss in the hallway outside of her room before she ducked through her door and he wandered down to his room. And then just as he'd gotten into bed, there was a text from Sarah asking if she could come over and maybe spend the night. He'd chuckled and drawled out a teasing, "Saaaaraaaaahhhh" so that she could hear it in her room. Within moments, she'd popped her head around his door and closed the distance to dive into bed with him. It had broken the ice immediately, and it had continued like that the last few weeks, with one of them wandering into the other's bedroom to sleep or…not sleep, as the case often was.

"Hey, think fast."

He looked up and caught her cell phone as she tossed it to him. "Damn, Sarah! What if I dropped this?"

"Eh, I'd get a new one. Anyway, isn't it what that heavy duty case is for? Check that text from Zondra for me, please? I need a bath so bad."

She grabbed fresh clothes out of her drawer as he nodded and unlocked her phone with the password she'd readily given him while they were on their press tour.

He pulled up the text and read it.

"She says, 'Tuesday, three o'clock, my office. Both of you. And tell your mate to arrive fully dressed.'" He gave Sarah a flat look as she cackled. "She's never gonna let me live that down, is she?"

"Nope!" Then she grumbled teasingly. "And for the record, I'm not sure how I feel about another woman being blessed with seeing that much of you."

"Ooooo. Weeeell, don't worry. That experience has made it so that I have deep-seated paranoia about ever getting undressed again, sooo…"

He set her phone down on her nightstand, chuckling. When he turned back, Sarah had stealthily closed the distance and was standing almost right next to him, causing him to jump. That seemed to amuse her as she reached around him to set her juice down next to her phone. Then she plucked his beer from his hand and did the same with that.

Chuck raised an eyebrow as she then stepped into his front and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in even closer. "Awww, that's kind of a bummer for me since I really count on that."

Ohhh, boy…

She was gently pressing kisses under his chin, moving up to his jawline. He bit his lip to keep from groaning as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a teasing tug to press her lower half against his.

"You really count on it, huh?" he grumbled.

"Mhm…What am I supposed to do to celebrate a win on the ice if you're too paranoid to get undressed?" The way she was kissing him, and how she tucked her hands down between their bodies to touch him there. And then…there.

His eyelids fluttered. "Karaoke?"

She giggled. "I'd prefer something way more physical than that."

"Something that requires me not to wear all of my clothes I'm getting…ya know, from context."

Her smirk was seductive. That was the only way he could think to describe it. It made him want to bury himself in her bed with her and not come out again until tomorrow. Or the next day. Technically they could…Their plans tonight didn't have to be set in stone…

"I suppose it isn't really all that required…on second thought."

He heard the sound of the zipper, and within moments, her hand was all the way inside. He choked a bit, his hips jerking against her ministrations, and her lips were at his ear, telling him to sit down.

He did.

He absolutely did.

Immediately.

And they sought to prove Sarah's theory for quite some time, before they eventually did away with the clothes altogether. Sarah's bath could wait.

-oooo-

She just barely heard it over the sound of her heart hammering, as loud as it was thumping wildly, pulsing in her ears as though it was lodged between them. It was a quiet ringing sound. And as Chuck froze above her and pulled his face from where he'd buried it in the crook of her neck, it became a bit louder. "S'that my phone?" she panted.

Chuck grumbled in response. But still, he moved his hand from where it was holding tightly onto her thigh to reach over and grab her phone from the nightstand. She'd left it there earlier after using it to Google something and prove him wrong.

"Just ignore it," she said a bit desperately, tightening her legs around his waist to squeeze him and gently pull his hips against hers. "They'll call back or leave a message. I don't care. Come back here."

"Lemme just see who it is. It might be important."

"Nooo," she whined. "Focus on me again. I'm what's important. I need you."

"Again?" he teased.

"Shut up. You're the one who initiated this time."

"Not gonna deny it," he drawled, pulling the phone back and settling himself back between her legs, his front snug against hers in a way that was making her feel like she might go mad. She was about to grab the phone and just throw it across the room when he sighed, "It's your mom."

Shit.

Sarah took the phone from him and pouted. "You mind?"

"Of course not," he chuckled, rolling off of her altogether.

He might not mind, but she did. And she pouted even harder as she sat up and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, sweetie." Her mom's voice didn't sound as saccharine and fake as it used to sound to her disillusioned ears a few years ago. It was warm, sincere, and she felt herself smiling a bit tentatively.

"Hi, Mom. How's it going?"

She turned to look at Chuck who was sprawled out across the side of the bed she usually slept on, looking exceptionally appetizing, his hair a curly mess, his eyes half-lidded, lips stretched into a satisfied and dreamy smile. Maybe she could put off this phone call just one more time and dive in to enjoy his skill sets again.

Or maybe she should just suck it up and talk to the only parent that hadn't completely sold her out to the highest bidder.

"Pretty well! You know, Kevin told me he got a text from you the other day. He said you'd just gotten back from an interview. I'm so happy you're finally getting some publicity. You deserve it."

Sarah smiled and climbed out of bed altogether, going to her closet and grabbing a robe, haphazardly tossing it around her body and catching Chuck's attention. "Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that a lot. Hopefully it means that doing this professionally is realistic, ya know?" She gestured to the phone and then to her bedroom door. Chuck sat up and said, quietly, "I can go…"

"No," she hissed, covering her phone. "Stay."

He widened his eyes and smirked, knowing exactly what she meant by that. She wasn't through with him yet. She winked and ducked out into the hallway, wandering towards the kitchen.

"…and if anyone can make curling into a legitimate profession, it's you, Sarah," her mom was saying.

"Thanks. It means a lot."

There was a bit of an awkward pause then before Emma finally spoke up again. "So, I tried to call you the past few days and I guess you were busy…"

"I was. I'm sorry. Had a lot of interviews and photoshoots. And there's another tournament in a few weeks, so Chuck and I are preparing…er, training. You know how it is."

"Of course!" her mom rushed out. "Of course I get it. You're a busy woman." She chuckled. "I really just wanted to check in with you and, you know, see if there's any room in that busy schedule for a quick weekend trip to San Diego or something so that I can see you and congratulate you in person."

"Oh!" Sarah bit her lip and nodded, even though her mom couldn't see it. "Yeah. Right. You texted me about that."

"Mhm. And you said you weren't sure if you could before this next tournament. I'd really like to see you, though. If you can. I don't have enough frequent flyer miles to make it up to you and I-I didn't want to assume. Or-Or, I don't know, just show up at your apartment out of the blue." She could hear the awkwardness that was still there between them, how hard both of them were trying to make everything work, to find the warmth that was supposed to be there in a mother and daughter relationship. There was warmth, she loved her mom and she knew her mom loved her back, but everything was still so tentative and still tainted with the struggles between them while Sarah'd been growing up.

"No, I appreciate that. Things with Chuck are…" She paused, glancing down the hallway to make sure her boyfriend hadn't followed.

But she paused long enough that her mom interrupted, her voice tinged with concern. "Uh oh. Is everything okay with you two?"

"Oh! God! Yes! Totally. That wasn't what I was going to say. I paused at the wrong moment. Things between us are really, really good. That's what I was going to say. I mean, still in the beginning stages. I don't really want to…Well, I don't want to mess things up by having you—my mom—just show up at our door. You know? I don't want to put him in that position without giving him some sort of, um…" She winced to herself.

"Preparation?" her mom filled in.

Sarah let out a long, relieved sigh. "Yes. That."

"I get it," Emma giggled. "Don't want to scare him."

"You're not scary, Mom. It's just…we're, like, six weeks in, you know? And I'm not sure how ready he is to meet my parents. Parent. Singular. 'Cause Dad can go to hell. I'm never letting Dad anywhere near Chuck."

Emma Walker snorted. It sounded just as bitter as Sarah felt. "Think he'd steal your boyfriend's wallet or something? Get him hooked into some Ponzi scheme?"

"Chuck's too smart for that," she said confidently, smiling a bit to herself. Then she bit her lip. "I'm afraid Chuck might get himself arrested by breaking Dad's jaw with a right hook. Especially considering I've taught him a few tricks of the martial arts trade and he knows how to do it the right way now. That might've been a bit of a mistake in hindsight."

"Oh, the money I'd pay to see that happen."

Sarah giggled. "I know. Join the club. I think it's safe to say Chuck's club president, too."

"Hmm." There was a long pause, which made Sarah curious. "Protective of you, is he?"

"A bit. Enough." She smirked. "But not too much. He's a good one."

"I'm starting to think that might be the case." Her mom paused again. "So how about it? Think you can make a quick trip? Even if it's just a weekend. Two days. I miss my daughter." Another pause. "A lot."

Sarah felt things clicking inside of her, and she felt a smile settle on her face. "I miss you too, Mom. A lot. Yeah, I can swing some time. Let me just check on dates that I can fly down and we'll make it work."

"We?"

"Well, I mean…me. I'll make it work. Or you and I will make it work. We."

"Oh. I thought that meant you might bring Chuck…?"

Sarah blanched. "Oh. Oh, I—I mean, I don't know. I don't think he'd—Not that he doesn't want to meet you. But…"

"No, no. I get it. The whole meeting your new girlfriend's mom thing. It's intimidating. Probably too soon for that, huh?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if it is."

"You just seem sort of serious. You and Chuck, I mean. Living together…"

"Well, we really didn't have a choice with that." Sarah stopped and shook her head at herself. Why was she arguing away her mom's point, dismissing it…as though it wasn't true? It was true. They were serious. More serious than Sarah thought she should admit to anyone besides herself, least of all to Chuck. "No, it's not that. I mean, we are...? We might be...? I don't know. I'm trying to take it one day at a time and just…enjoy? I guess?"

She heard the warmth in her mom's voice. "That's smart, Sarah. But don't be too…oh gosh, what is it young people say these days? Breezy?"

"I have no idea what that means," Sarah giggled.

"Don't be too chill! You know! Don't try so hard not to be too serious and too intense that he starts to think you're on a different page than he is, as far as the relationship goes. You know, with how serious it is. What it means. I've made that mistake before and you seem to care a whole lot about this relationship. Just some motherly advice, I guess. I never got much of a chance to do it when you were growing up—"

"Yeah, it was more like lecturing."

"I didn't—!" Emma stopped and sighed then. "You're right. It was. I'm not lecturing now, though."

"No, I know, Mom. I know. You aren't. And thank you for the advice. It's good advice. I don't want to tiptoe too much. We're both…I mean, I think it is serious." She shut her eyes and smiled to herself. It felt good to say it out loud.

"So bring him."

Her eyes snapped open again. "What?"

"Bring Chuck to visit. I want to meet him. I think he'd get along great with Kevin. The four of us can go to Coronado for lunch or dinner or something. The boys can talk about their computer stuff."

That was right… Kevin was a computer programmer. Her mom had met him at some sort of conference for work a few years ago and he was still around. And a good influence, it seemed. At least, she knew her mom was happy.

"Well, I—I guess I can ask. I can see if he wants to."

"And listen, if he doesn't, I understand. If it's too soon and he's uncomfortable…"

"Okay. Thanks, Mom. Either way, I'm visiting. Just need to figure out dates."

"Perfect."

It was perfect, wasn't it? Or at least, pretty damn close to it.

-oooo-

"So, um…How's your mom?"

Chuck watched Sarah's body language as she silently fussed over dinner.

He sat on top of the counter, somewhere he thought he'd be out of the way and still be able to be here with her as she handled their dinner alone, as she'd insisted he let her.

He saw her freeze for just a moment, and then she went back to mincing the garlic. "She's really good. Thanks for asking." She smiled up at him for just a moment before continuing her dinner prep.

"Oh, of course. Yeah. You're welcome. Ahem. What was she calling about?" Sarah froze again, but caught herself and played it off as though it hadn't happened. He inwardly rolled his eyes at her. "I mean, it had to be something. You typically let your mom's calls go to voicemail if you're in the middle of something. And we were, uh…pretty in the middle of something. Like, seconds away from it. At least on my end."

She stopped and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Wow, Chuck. Were you really?" Even though the look on her face was pretty cheeky and flirtatious, he spotted a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, you know it, girl," he teased, biting his lip and winking. "But seriously, she's called the last two days or so and I never saw you call her back, so I guess I'm just wondering." He held his hands up defensively as she braced her hands on the counter and looked like she might say something. "I'm not trying to pry. I promise."

"No, I know," she said, huffing and pushing her hair that escaped its braid from her forehead with the back of her wrist. "But yeah, she just wanted to see how I was. That's all. And ask about that interview we did a few days ago. And, um, well…I guess she wants me to visit before our tournament. So I'll be doing that within the next couple o' weeks."

She shrugged.

Chuck just watched for a few seconds as she gathered the minced garlic and tucked it on and around the raw salmon pieces. Then he quietly slid from the counter to stand beside her and nodded. "Well, that sounds nice. Gonna go for a week or so?"

She shrugged. "Not that long, I don't think. Probably just a few days."

"Ah." He smiled. "I'll miss ya, but you definitely need some mom slash daughter time, for sure. That'll be good for you both, right? Since you're…" He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair. "You're working on things with her. This'll be nice."

Sarah turned a smile on him, and he knew immediately that she could see right through him, the affection on her beautiful face as she realized what he was doing. "Chuck. Baby. You don't have to be so timid and tentative, or walk on eggshells. Things were rough with me and Mom for most of my life. I told you all of that for a reason. But you're really sweet." She moved up onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly.

"Sorry. I know I shouldn't. I just don't want to tread where I shouldn't be treading."

"I'm not sure that's possible at this point, but trust me, I'd never dump you or something if it was possible, if you did…tread." She smirked and started slicing the lemon. "Can you preheat the oven for me?"

She gave him a temperature and he went over to preheat it for her, strolling back to her side to continue watching, waiting for her to continue.

"You're right, though. It will be nice. We had a pretty nice conversation. We talked…Um, we talked about you a little bit."

He felt himself pale and he stood up a bit straighter. "What?"

Sarah giggled. "Yep. Don't worry. All good things."

Chuck snorted. "I suppose it's a good rule of thumb to go down on your girlfriend before she talks to her mom on the phone in order to ensure she says nice things about ya." He spread his hands out in a 'ta da!' gesture, but only received a slow jaw drop from said girlfriend. "Was that too raunchy? Presumptuous? Chauvinist?"

"No to the last two. But definitely raunchy. Can't say I don't like it, though." She winked and beamed at him, chuckling as he made a face that said, I'll take it.

"So, um, what'd you say about me?" he asked, then, as she moved around him to prepare more of the meal.

"The usual stuff."

"What?" He laughed as she raised her eyebrows and pressed her lips together, pointedly not looking at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged.

"Come on. You can't say you two talked about me and then not tell me what you said. It'll keep me up at night. You know how I operate."

His girlfriend laughed and nodded, widening her eyes. "Oh, trust me, I know." She gestured towards the oven and he rushed over to open it for her, letting her slip the fish inside, then he shut it again for her. "Thanks. I know how much you like to be liked."

"See? So give me a bone, here."

Sarah giggled and set the timer on the oven, then turned to face him, crossing her arms and leaning against the nearby counter. "Fine. She asked how things are going…with us."

He hated how she left it there, the teasing sparkle in her unbelievably blue eyes. She knew she was destroying his insides with this, and damn her for milking it. "Sarah! What'd you say?" he finally groused, and she laughed.

"Of course I told her the truth. That things are going really well. That we're really, really good. This. This is really good."

Chuck felt warmth spill through him, as though someone at the very top of his head spilled a cup of hot chocolate and it trickled and flowed all the way down through his arms, torso, and legs, puddling at his feet. "That makes me feel very good."

She preened at his honesty and moved closer to kiss him a bit longer than before. "Good. It's the truth."

"I know it is." He sighed, then. "I'm glad you're getting some time with your mom down in San Diego, baby. I really am. Full disclosure, though, I'm gonna miss ya."

Sarah smiled, then pulled her lips back between her teeth, looking almost shy all of a sudden as she shrugged. Her eyes shifted to the side. "You could come with."

Her eyes moved back to meet his and she stared for a long time, as though studying him. He felt his mouth fall open a bit. "Oh."

She grabbed his arms then and squeezed reassuringly, definitely shy and even wincing a bit. "You don't have to, obviously. But my mom extended the invitation if you think you'd want to…I dunno, meet her?"

Chuck could see the hopefulness in her, in the way she kept shrugging, her shyness, the embarrassed twist of her lips to the side. She was feeling vulnerable.

"She wants me to come visit?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, she wants to meet me?"

"Yeah, she does. I totally get if you aren't ready to meet her yet. The whole meet the parents thing. If it's too…I dunno, intense." She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "My mom gets it, too, if you don't want to just yet."

"No, Sarah, I—"

"I just want to make that clear, you know? That I totally understand if you don't—"

"I do." She stopped at that, her shoulders easing back, the tenseness in her body seeping away. "I'd kinda…love to meet your mom, to be honest. I've been sort of hoping it might happen, uh, soonish."

"Really?" She widened her eyes, a smile starting on her face.

"Yeah." Chuck shrugged and moved in close, cupping her elbows. "But do you want us to meet? Me and your mom, I mean?"

"I do," she said in what sounded to him like a steady, sure voice. The look in her eyes was full of confidence. "I think she's gonna love you. And you're definitely gonna really like her boyfriend."

He gasped. "I get to meet Kevin?"

That made her giggle. "Yeah. You'll meet Kevin, I'm sure. You two can talk to your heart's content about codes and…I don't know what else."

"Oh my God. That sounds amazing." He leaned in to hug her tightly, then, shutting his eyes.

"We still have to figure out dates and stuff, but are you sure?" she asked, turning her face so that her lips were pressed to his ear. He felt the way she nuzzled him and it made him squeeze her even tighter.

"I'm positive. This is gonna be off the hook."

She giggled and pulled back. "Or maybe a little awkward because it's been kind of…erm…a while since I saw my mom, and even longer since I spent time with Kevin. I don't know him all that well. So I can't promise a picture perfect Cleaver family experience."

"No, I get it. I get it totally. But I'll be there now. To, uh, support you. When you need it. If you need it."

He could see her melting a little at that. "When," she corrected. "I'm gonna need you for sure. But-But that's not the only reason why I invited you. I don't want you to think that." She rubbed her hand up and down his chest.

"I don't."

She smiled, giggled at his excited grin, and leaned up to kiss him again.

-oooo-

"I'm just glad dinner wasn't cereal and milk poured into a bowl, this time."

She gave him a little shove as he unlocked the back door to the Curling Center.

"Hah—Hey! I'm the only way you're getting into this place tonight. Don't shove me."

"Talking shit about my dinner skills…You'll get worse than shoved, and I'll steal your key and let myself in anyway, you assmunch."

Chuck laughed hard as he opened the door for her. "Assmunch. Love it."

"Thanks. Just came to me." She grinned over her shoulder at him with her tongue between her teeth. "And I worked hard on making dinner for you tonight, so stop being ungrateful."

"I'm not ungrateful at all!" he insisted, shutting and locking the door behind him. He turned on his flashlight and shone it in front of them, and she pointedly reached out to grab his hand tightly so that he could lead her through the maze of hallways towards the ice arena. "I knew it was gonna be bomb dot com because I helped you put the groceries away yesterday and I saw the salmon, all orangey-pink and delicious. And the way you used the foil in the oven with the little pocket? Ingenious. My woman can cook."

"Well, the cereal situation was because I was tired that day. And I seem to remember you throwing freaking microwaveable pot pies on the table on one of the nights it was your turn to make dinner, so nyeh."

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. "Well, technically I had to throw it in a microwave, and I microwaved them at, like, the perfect temperature. All you did was pour cereal and milk into bowls."

"You asshole, I bought you your own gross marshmallow crap cereal. That was just for you!"

He laughed and she was pulled to a stop just a few feet away from their destination. His arms were around her in the darkness, the flashlight beaming up at the ceiling as he hugged her. "You're an amazing cereal and milk pourer. Perfect milk to marshmallows ratio," he said, kissing the side of her face.

Sarah snorted and hugged him back. "You're just lucky I know you actually love cereal for dinner."

"I really doooooooo," he drawled in a sing-songy voice.

They walked into the arena, the ice sheets all laid out in two rows of three, the moonlight coming in from the windows all the way up by the ceiling. Chuck popped open the electrical box and turned on the lights over the sheet that was furthest from the windows and she smirked to herself at how he always managed to think of the small things that others might not.

"D'you remember the last time we did this?" she asked as they walked over to the sheet he'd lit up, fingers threaded together, their bags dangling from their opposite hands.

"Of course. The real question is, do you? 'Cause you were waaaasted, Sarah. I half-carried you out of here, and when we got home, I literally had to pick you up and take you to bed." He chuckled, his eyes soft as though he was flashing back to that night in his mind.

"I remember," she giggled. "As waaaasted as I was. I was wearing these shoes, then, too." She kicked up one of her feet, showing him the orange Converse with pale blue laces.

"And you had your hair in one of those cool braids that looks like a mermaid tail."

She raised an eyebrow at him. She didn't even really remember what hairstyle she'd worn that night. "Wow, Chuck. You really were obsessed with me."

He rocked forward in laughter, brown eyes wide and sparkling. "I was not obsessed. I was…moved."

Sarah let a giggle out through her nose and dropped her bag on the nearest bleacher, turning to him and putting a hand on the back of his neck so that she could go up onto her tiptoes and kiss him softly. "Wanna hear somethin' crazy?" she breathed.

"Eh. Nah." She laughed and play shoved him as he grinned cheekily and slipped back in against her, his hands on her waist. "Tell me somethin' crazy."

"I was already super into you then. I can't tell you what you were wearing because…alcohol, but I'm pretty sure your hair was longer than it is now, and a little messier." She dragged her fingers through his curls and watched as his eyelids fluttered, incredibly gratified by the pleased little growl that came from deep in his chest. "But I do remember waking up that next morning and thinking I was in deep, deep trouble."

"Me? Trouble?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. "I'm still in pretty deep trouble…if anything, it's gotten worse," she added, sitting down to start changing her shoes.

"Oh? Is it anything I've done?"

Snorting, she tossed her sneakers in her bag and pulled her curling shoes out, slipping them on. "Um, well…Yes. Is the short answer."

"What's the long one?" He plopped down next to her.

"The long one is that you—Wait, no, it'll take me days to go through the whole thing."

"I've got a lot of time on my hands, here."

She giggled. "You really just want to hear me wax poetic about all the things I like about you, don't you?"

"Naaaaaaah, I mean, maybe."

He grinned cheekily and finished tying his shoes, hopping up to stand in front of her and reaching down for her hand. She took it, a dubious look on her face, letting him hoist her to her feet.

"You started with going out of your way to make my move-in process as easy and seamless as possible, as well as leaving me the room that has a walk-in closet." He sent her a side-look. "Yeah, I noticed. Don't think I didn't. That was sweet."

"Well, you sure are using all of it, so it's a good thing I did that." He laughed and lunged away from her before she could take a swipe at him. "Just kidding."

"I mean, you're right. I am using all of it." She chuckled at the way he mimicked zipping his mouth shut, then she grabbed him and pulled him in again. "You really dove headfirst into this. Like, the federation just threw the Olympics at you, threw me at you, and without even blinking, you rolled your sleeves up and went at it. Simultaneously tackling strength training, endurance, game planning, scrimmages, and charming the hell out of me all at once."

"Oh, I blinked," he said, heading over to the racks where the rocks were kept and wheeling them over to start placing them behind the hack. "I definitely blinked." He hefted one of the rocks over. "But when someone offers you the opportunity to go to the Olympics, and not just that, but to go beside of the person who basically amounts to being your hero? You don't pass that up. Not only do you not pass it up, you put your entire mind, body, and soul into it. Because who knows, ya know? Who knows if you ever get a chance like that ever again?"

Sarah walked over slowly, her heart thudding against her chest as she watched him prep the match for them.

"And I mean, there's all the doubt that came with it, ya know? Like, 'Can I really do this? Am I even capable of curling at this insanely elite level? The Olympics?' I mean, shit. You don't even wanna know what was going on in my brain through all of that. Curling in the Olympics, curling with you, it was like…I dunno, like being a kid who can't swim, and you're just starting to dip your toe in the water and someone just picks you up and throws you in the deep end." He finished with the rocks and pointed down the sheet. "I'll go grab some brooms."

All she could do was blink at him as he hastened over to the other end to grab some brooms.

"I think maybe we should talk to the coaches about these brooms. They're wearing a little thin," he called back to her.

But she was still a little stuck on what he said before. So much so that by the time he walked back to her side, she practically blurted, "Did you just call me your hero?"

He looked up at her, surprised. "Yeah. Of course." She just gaped, not sure how to respond, or what to do with that information. "I told you before about Chicago. That whole thing. I looked up to you. Still do." He booped her on the end of her nose and shrugged, as though what he'd just said wasn't all that big of a deal. "So which color are we giving the hammer to in the first End? Yellow or red?"

"Yellow. But you're serious, aren't you?" She joined him at the hack, still trying to process as she shook her head. "You said I was your hero. That you looked up to me."

"Yeah. F'course I'm serious. I'd probably be, I dunno, living with Ellie and Devon and working someplace like the Buy More if I hadn't gotten into curling. And I never would've gotten into curling without you, Warrior Queen." He smiled slowly, one side of his mouth tilting more than the other. She loved his crooked smiles. She loved his everything. …She loved him.

She loved him.

"So who gets the hammer? Me or you?"

She shook herself a little, trying to refocus, and she found herself stumbling a bit with her words, something she didn't usually do. God, she felt so foolish. "I, um…Why don't we switch it up? I'll be lead for both red and yellow, then you deliver red and yellow, then I go, etc."

"You're letting me have the hammer?" He gasped theatrically.

"Makin' you pull your weight for once. What of it?"

He laughed hard and let out a high-pitched, "Daaaaaaaammmnnnnn!"

She stepped up and pulled a red rock over to the hack. This was how they set things up last time for the most part, though it had been a little more confusing then. Chuck had explained it was like playing chess against yourself. They would be pitting Team Bartowsker Red against Team Bartowsker Yellow. Only, last time they'd taken turns with every shot and it had gotten confusing, especially with both of them being under the influence of alcohol. A lot of "Whose shot is it?" and "I don't fuckin' know! Just deliver the thing!"

This way she'd be curling against herself, and Chuck against himself.

And also she loved him.

That wasn't something she could push out of her mind for long enough to truly focus on what she was doing, but she was embracing it anyway. She loved him and he was meeting her mom.

She gestured to the end of the ice. "You know you have to set up the rocks before we do this, right?"

"H-Huh? Oh! Oh, duh! We forgot about that."

"I mean, I didn't. But sure."

Chuck stuck his tongue out and pushed two rocks down towards the house. He followed after them, set them up appropriately, then stepped to the side and gestured to them with a bow. "Your Highness."

She snorted and delivered the first rock, getting the game started. And as he skipped for her, telling her hard, line's good, et cetera, she swept her own rock into the house, slotting it behind the placed rock.

They continued for a few minutes, and when Chuck pulled his yellow rock over, he looked at her down the sheet and held up a hand. "Don't worry. I clear the house for you. We'll make very clear the house."

Sarah made a face. "What kind of an attempt at a Russian accent is that?" she laughed.

"It's my alter ego. Like Boris. So I can tell the difference between Team Red and Team Yellow."

"Okay, but I'm not doing a Russian accent whenever I deliver a yellow stone, so you're on your own with this."

"It's fine. And hey, what do you mean attempt? I do an amazing Russian accent! Everyone said so when I was Perchik in my high school's version of Fiddler on the Roof."

She laughed. "No, you weren't!"

"I was! Really!" She watched as he did a strange little two step attempt at tap dancing, his hands on his hips, but his shoe without the grip at the bottom slipped and he nearly lost his footing altogether. "WHOA!"

Sarah clasped her hands over her face. "Oh my God, Chuck! Please do not tap dance on the ice! Are you crazy?"

"Yes. Yes, I think I am," he laughed. "Fine, no Russian accent. But I'll pop my collar when I'm Yellow Chuck."

"A little douche-y, but I'll allow it."

That cracked him up as he popped his collar, and she was a little ashamed when she realized he still looked pretty hot with his jacket collar popped like that. Woops…

He got down and delivered his rock. Their game continued.

And she loved him.

She loved his antics throughout the entire End, and the fact that he genuinely took himself seriously enough that he popped and re-flattened his jacket collar when he switched between delivering a red rock and a yellow rock, as though he was two different people.

And she loved his response when the third End was almost over and she couldn't resist admitting, "I honestly can't get over what you said earlier. About how I was your hero. I don't know, it's one thing to know I have fans and stuff out there because of my curling or, well, let's be real, my looks."

"Can't blame 'em," he said with a shrug. "You're gorgeous."

She pushed past her blush and continued. "No, seriously. It's different hearing a person call…well, call someone like me their hero. Considering, you know, everything. All of the stuff I've told you about my dad and the shit I got into, the bad shit I did. I guess nobody's ever said those words to me. No one's ever called me that. And I'm…a little bit in shock, I guess."

He propped his broom on his shoulder and stepped out of the house to close the distance between them, holding up his free hand in surrender. "Okay, well slow down. We're talking about me, here. You absolutely are my hero, but you have to take it into consideration that my past heroes have been Bruce Lee, Sub-Zero from Mortal Kombat, and Clark Kent. And two out of three of those aren't real people, and one of those two is basically just a combat fighter who kills people with ice and his animality finisher is a polar bear that mauls his opponents which is so freaking cool, but that's neither here nor there."

Sarah gaped at him. "What now?"

"And I really need to be clear about this. When I say Clark Kent, I mean Clark Kent, not Superman. I feel like people would automatically assume I mean Superman. But I've always felt Supes was the alter ego of Clark and not the other way around. Hear me out." She'd opened her mouth to say something and shut it again at that. "Clark is not only a kick-ass reporter who is all about kindness and has a really close relationship with his human parents, he can seriously rock a nice pair of glasses, and he has an incredibly smart, courageous, hard-working go-getter of a girlfriend in Lois Lane. Like, she's a better reporter than he is, and gutsy. And it also helps that he's an alien with superpowers and can save people. But anyway, I digress."

Sarah just smiled and shook her head. "Don't try to walk it back now. You said I'm your hero and that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. You also said you look up to me, even though you're only less than a year younger than me." He tilted his head and frowned. "Wikipedia. Your birthday is on there. Mine is up on my Wikipedia page, too, so you better put it in your calendar."

He winced. "Already did."

She laughed. "Of course you did."

"Anyway, it isn't your age that has me looking up to you. It's your professionalism, your focus, your talent, your courage in the face of insurmountable odds, your amazing work ethic, and your ability to get the cereal to milk ratio perfectly right when you make me a bowl of cereal." Sarah laughed, letting her head fall back as she rolled her eyes. "I added that one recently."

"Just freaking deliver the hammer, you incredibly endearing goofball."

"On it." He popped his collar with a flourish and slid back to the hack. His last delivery earned the Team Yellow two points, leaving the game tied at three going into the fourth End.

"End's over. Get the rocks off!" he announced.

She sent him a mischievous look. "That's a thought, but I try not to screw where I curl, baby."

Chuck was doubled over with laughter once her meaning hit him, and as he finally sobered up a bit, he stood to his full height and shook his finger at her. "That was a really good one. You should be proud of yourself."

She loved him.

"Oh, I am."

They set up the fourth End, then, and continued playing.

Chuck had just made the last shot of the fifth End half an hour later when he broke out into a popped collar dance. "Popped Collar Yellow Chuck is obviously a better curler than Stupid Flat Collar Red Chuck, Sarah. Is this gonna be a problem for you moving forward? Do you think you can curl with a popped collar guy as your mixed doubles partner?"

She laughed, tickled by his silliness. And the dance was getting out of control, with arm wiggles and hip thrusts included. "I can curl with him, but I refuse to date him, and he's definitely not allowed in my bed."

"Oh, that won't be a problem," he chuckled, starting to dorkily swagger walk down the ice back towards her. "I won't be wearing a collar when I get into your bed, you stone cold babe. In fact, I won't be wearing a damn thing. Oh, snap!"

Her laughter increased.

"That is…unless the popped collar becomes a state of mind. Uh ohhhhh."

"Dear God, no."

"Yuuuuu—uuuh, ah! Whoa!" His stupid swagger walk she was still laughing at became dangerous, then, because his feet slid apart first, then both of them swept forward as he tried to overcorrect. He went feet over head then and slammed hard on his back, right onto the ice, with a loud WHAM!

"Chuck!"

Sarah skidded across the ice towards him, still trying to stem her laughter as she slid down onto her knees at his side and put her hands on his chest. "Are you okay?" she asked, biting her lip to keep the giggles at bay as best she could. She slipped a hand under his head to make sure he wasn't bleeding, that his head hadn't made contact.

"Ah…h'eeeehhhhh," he wheezed, holding up a finger.

"You're an absolute idiot," she breathed, chuckling as she rubbed his chest to help him catch his breath again. "You're the biggest idiot I've ever known in my entire life."

"Gee, thanks," he panted.

"I love you."

He froze. She froze.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and peered down at him, wondering why it was so hard for her to breathe now, too.

"D-Did I just hit my head really hard on the ice, or did you just—?" He gave her a dreamy look, not finishing his question, as though his voice stopped working.

"I did. I love you. I love you, Chuck."

He pushed himself to sit up, then, gazing at her, seemingly unable to speak. For once. For once Chuck Bartowski seemed speechless, and of course it was when she actually wanted him to speak, to say anything at all.

"I fell for you a long time ago. After you caught me in a trust fall and before I signed that paperwork from the federation to become a full-time professional mixed doubles curler. Not that I knew it then. That came later."

"I lo—I love—Crap, sorry. I'm still trying to catch my breath. I landed really hard." He huffed, that beautiful grin of his starting oh so slowly.

"I know," she giggled. "You doofus."

There was the grin, at full power. "Yeeeaaah. I am. But you love me." He gave her another dreamy look. "Oh!" He shook himself. "I love you, too. And I have for a long, long time."

Sarah's heart was slamming against her ribcage. She could feel it in her ears. She was especially breathless now. "Don't say you loved me two years ago, because I'll call you a creepy stalker."

He laughed as best he could, sliding his hands over her waist and pulling her close. It was cold, sitting on the ice like this. But she didn't care as his arms wrapped around her. "I won't say it, then. But I will say I one hundred percent had a celebrity hero crush on you for two years. So…do with that what you will." She giggled, her heart warm, looking at him like her world started and ended with him. Because, she thought to herself, at this moment, it just might. "But love? Like, actual love? The moment you shook my hand that first day I came to training. And you apologized for Jeff and Lester, which basically gave me permission to think they were insane. Nobody else gave me any kind of warning and I thought maybe that was how things were at that club."

Sarah cackled, moving in to hug him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing, just holding onto him for dear life. "God, I love you. You have no idea how much."

It felt so good to say it, to know he returned the sentiment. But of course he did. He'd said it enough times without actually saying it, hadn't he?

"I love you," he returned warmly.

Overwhelmed by the moment, by the realization of just how quickly she'd turned her life around after meeting this man, by how incredibly happy she was, Sarah pulled back and turned her face to catch his lips in a kiss.

It was cold on the ice, but things got heated almost immediately, and Chuck ended up flat on his back with her on top of him, kissing him hungrily. When she let out a soft, desperate moan, he pulled back out of the kiss and took a deep, gasping breath.

"I thought you said you don't screw where you curl," he teased, grinning.

She giggled, then grabbed him by his arms, hooked her leg under his, and wrenched them both to the side to roll off the ice completely and onto the soft pad next to it, Chuck on top.

"There. Problem solved."

Sarah Walker swallowed her boyfriend's laughter with another heated kiss, reveling in how infinite this moment felt, how untouchable this relationship was, how real and honest and good their romance was becoming.

And it was all because her coach had taken a huge chance on a nerdy guy with big dreams, big ideas, and an even bigger heart. And to know that he was here, that they were both here, she corrected herself, because of something she herself had done, even unknowingly…

The confidence he had given her by taking that risk and telling her how much she meant to him…

Chuck pulled back to lift his hand to his mouth and tear at the velcro of his glove with his teeth, using them to pull it from his fingers altogether and tossing it to the side so that he could slip his hand under her jacket and shirt. She let out a high-pitched giggle and threw her head back, tightening her grip on him.

Thank goodness for Chuck Bartowski.

A/N: And there it is. The end of the epilogue, which means THE ACTUAL END. I'll be short and sweet. Just ... thank you. Sincerely. THANK YOU.

-SC