So here's the final chapter. Thanks so much to those who read this story and let me know that they liked it :) For sticking it out through all the darkness, I give you this chap. I hope you like it!

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Today is Family Fun Weekend and Mason's face, even under the baseball cap, shines brilliantly in the sun. His eyes dance with excitement as he wiggles his bat in the air, waiting for the pitch. Tall for his age and with a mega-watt smile and gorgeous blonde hair combo he's already said to have given 3 girls in his class their first kisses. At five years old the kid is an ideal mix of his parents; big-hearted, smart, and pretty much perfect.

Chuck would rather be showing him how to play his first video game but the kid's game of choice is baseball. And so Chuck stands some feet away, winding the ball back.

"Ready?" he calls.

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Today is Family Fun Weekend and Chuck stands in the middle of the backyard holding his nuts.

"Oh no!" Mason says, running towards him. The boy is still holding the baseball bat, and even though it was the ball that hit him in the groin region Chuck still takes a step back at the mere sight of the big blunt stick.

"Does it hurt really bad?"

Chuck's mouth still hasn't formed anything but a painful-looking 'O' shape but he manages a strained, "Nah. I'm ok." He knew he should've pushed harder for the video gaming.

"I'm really sorry."

"I know, Mason" Chuck nods, trying to put on a brave face. "This is so much funnier when it happens on TV."

Having heard Chuck's pained groan Sarah's already on her way towards them. "Is everything ok?" she asks a second before she notices that Chuck's not only doubled over but also holding his nuts. The discarded ball on the grass and the sight of Mason with his baseball bat is enough to clue her in to what transpired.

Sarah rubs Chuck's back, trying not to laugh. "Maybe you should go sit in the pool for a bit. Some cold water'll do you good."

Chuck nods and waddles away without another word.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Sarah, I didn't mean to," Mason says.

"I know, Sweetie," she responds. Chuck may be hurting but right now she can't help but feel for Mason and the guilt written all over his awesome little face.

"Dad says that getting hurt down there can be bad for your wang energy."

"Uh..." After five years of being an aunt she's still not sure how to respond to statements like those. But that's what Awesome and Ellie are for. "Don't worry. This isn't the first time your uncle Chuck's been hit down there with a ball."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," Sarah says. "In fact, your dad's accidently hit him down there plenty of times. Which is why Uncle Chuck doesn't like sports very much."

"Oh. So Uncle Chuck's going to be ok?"

"Absolutely."

Mason's face brightens. And as if to confirm the good news he asks, "can we hug?"

Sarah opens up her arms and grins as the boy wraps his arms around her waist. And just like that he's back to being in a great a mood because everything is once again....

"Awesome."

"Now why don't you go inside and ask your mom if she needs any more help with lunch."

"Ok!"

Sarah watches her nephew run back into the house. She loves being an aunt. Before Mason came along she didn't know how to test a bottle or even change a diaper, and for all the skills she had those were important ones to be missing. She loves being an aunt– much more than Chuck loves being an uncle right about now. But she also knows that Chuck'll go right back to picking up the baseball mitt as soon as Mason asks. She turns back to see how Chuck's doing. By the looks of the way he's splashing around he seems back to normal.

"I've got a leg!" Chuck shouts.

He grabs a foot and digs in, lightly mauling it with faux-menace and bared teeth. The kid playing fish food throws his head back and laughs while the ticklish bites go from his foot to his arm to his stomach. Billy's laughs suddenly die out, though, and he turns very serious. "It's not fair that you're the shark," he says. "The pool is so small! You're always going to catch me."

That much is true. The two of them are in an inflatable kiddie pool and with the slide and the various water toys floating around, Chuck has to bend his knees just to sit in it. "Ok, how 'bout you get to be the shark this time and I get to be helpless victim?"

Billy's smile grows wide again at the new idea. He stands up, dripping wet, and begins to stomp in place, his hands clawing threateningly at the air. And though the stomping and roaring is, frankly, adorable, the boy's idea of a shark is obviously a little skewed.

"Oh no!" Chuck puts on his most high-pitched damsel-in-distress voice. "Somebody please save me!"

"Are you a monster, Billy?" Sarah asks.

"I'm a shark!"

"Can't you tell?!" Chuck yelps, still using the voice.

The boy continues to scratch the air, never actually following up on his threat of attack, but Chuck still cowers in fear. "A shark, of course!" Sarah smiles.

"Don't save him, Mommy!" the boy says.

"Wasn't going to."

"Well that's not very nice," Chuck frowns, turning to her. It's a bad move; it's just at that moment that Billy decides to pounce. Sarah can't help but admire his method of attack. It's no use though; Chuck wraps him in his arms and cradles his son until the boy's undone by his own laughter. "Who's got ya now, Billy?"

Billy Bartowski is the product of Sarah and Chuck. He's got big blue eyes, the type of unruly brown hair that makes funny animal shapes when it gets too long, and he's three years old. But when he was born he had tiny golden hairs that went all the way down his neck. When he was born Chuck spent most of his time hovering over Billy's crib, watching him in unabashed amazement. Sarah teased him for the way he would stare, mouth agape and eyes wide, but it wasn't like she didn't do the same thing. Chuck noticed it every time she fed him, rocked him, bathed him; like Billy was the most precious thing she'd ever held. Which he was, of course.

By the time he was one he could already make his parents crack up. Chuck and Sarah were especially amused by the way he would walk around, after just learning how, like a stumbling drunk. (Chuck still carried him everywhere even after the kid got the hang of walking).

By the time he was 15 months Chuck was delighted to announce to the world that his son's first word was "Daddo." But Sarah still stands by the fact that "Daddo" isn't a word at all and that his first actual word came at 16 months when one day he looked right at her and said "Momma."

At two Billy discovered his love for dancing and he was as good at it as Chuck was. (Which isn't saying much because Chuck isn't a very good dancer). But turn on a song and the kid shimmied around in a stilted rocking movement. Which Chuck always matched, move for move.

When Billy was two and a half Chuck was equal parts proud and scared that his son was especially adept at memory games. He vows to keep him away from any suspicious emails in his future.

At three Billy is the only kid in the playground who's allowed to play with toy guns. The other moms at the playground frown on toy guns but Sarah finds absolutely nothing wrong with them, and anyway how is she supposed to play Cops and Robbers without guns? (To her surprise Sarah loves the playground. She never thought she'd ever find herself spending her afternoons there but she can honestly say she'd rather climb to the highest points of the jungle jim than to the top of a building to chase some bad guy.)

"Come on, Billy," Sarah says. "Let's get you dry."

Chuck sets Billy down on the grass so that he can go to his mother. Sarah proceeds to take off his goggles, floaties, UV protection shirt, ear plugs, and finally his swim shoes. She wraps him in a towel and sits him on her lap, patting him dry.

"You know the pool's barely a foot deep," Chuck says. "You could probably ease up a little on all the scuba gear."

Sarah leans her head down til her mouth's close to her son's ear. "Should we ease up on the scuba gear?"

The boy shakes his head emphatically and Sarah's got a justified look on her face when she addresses Chuck again. "See?"

As it turns out, of the two of them, Sarah is the overly protective parent. Not that Chuck isn't protective, but when Billy got knocked down by an older girl in the park the other day it wasn't Chuck who instantly turned on the spy mode looking for the culprit. Chuck's protective in his own way.

If Chuck has learned anything from the last few years it's that he'll protect his family from anything. He's capable of that. Of putting his life on the line to protect this life that he's made for his family. It may not be the one he and Sarah had originally envisioned but it's everything they could have ever hoped for. Extensive tests by the government verified that Chuck's brain could no longer recover any encoded images. But even so, neither the CIA nor the NSA were willing to let Chuck go that easy. For his own protection he had round-the-clock surveillance (in other words, Sarah). And so that they could have their hand in the game the NSA sent over one of their guys twice a year to make sure Chuck's life was free of espionage, secret intelligence, and general spy stuff (in other words, completely and utterly normal.) Chuck usually spends those bi-annual visits showing a grumbling Casey the latest updates in the family album.

Even though the government is still keeping a watchful eye at least neither Chuck nor Sarah have to keep jobs that require them to wear uniforms to work anymore. A small, but non-the-less significant, achievement.

As Sarah dries Billy off Chuck notices his son's gaze is set in intent concentration on the middle of Chuck's bare chest. "What is it, buddy?"

"How come your drawing doesn't come off?" Billy asks. Chuck realizes he's talking about his tattoo. "When I color on myself you always take it off with water, Mommy."

"Well your mom's got magic hands."

"She does?"

Chuck notices, through the wide-eyed wonder on Billy's face, that his son is taking him too seriously. "No, no, no, I was joking. Mommy was able to wash it off because your markers are washable. Mine is... well, mine's permanent."

"Whats pernament mean?"

"It means it stays on forever and ever."

Billy's mouth fell open in shock. "You're in big trouble."

"Yes!" Sarah says, eyeing Chuck like he's a bad example. "He is! You are never ever, under any circumstances, allowed to write on yourself, ok Billy?

Billy nods.

"Can you read what it says, Buddy?" Chucks asks.

He can't read yet but he's been told so many times that he already knows it by heart. "For Sarah and Billy."

"That's right," Sarah whispers to him. "And do you know what's for you and me?"

"Daddy's heart," Billy says, already well-versed in the meaning of Chuck's tattoo. So well-versed he's not very impressed by the idea anymore. If anything, Sarah's the one who likes to be reminded.

"Yep," she says. "It belongs to us."

Billy tilts his head sideways like he's thinking of something. "You need your heart, Daddy. You can keep it."

Chuck laughs.

"My two guys," Sarah smiles. "So generous."

"You really lucked out," Chuck says.

"I did."

"Hey Billy, why don't you go ask Awesome Jr. if he can show you how to whittle a canoe out of a tree branch."

Billy runs back into the house through the back door and Sarah stands, spreading open the towel. "Time to get out, Chuck."

"What, don't you wanna come in?"

"As fun as that sounds I don't think we'd both fit."

Chucks reluctantly gets up and stands before Sarah, waiting for her to dry him up. And she obliges, her eyes not leaving his as she wraps the towel around his waist, where he's the wettest. His eyebrows do a suggestive Bartowski Eyebrow Dance to match every suggestive pat of her hands.

"You all--" she looks down at the front of his trunks before looking back up-- "better now?"

Chuck shifts his weight from foot to foot and bounces on the balls of his feet a couple of times. "I dunno," he sighs. "The kid really knows how to swing. I'm probably gonna need you to check me out, make sure there's no lasting damage."

Sarah is smirking. She's so caught up in his eyes it's a while before she notices the way his thumb's grazing her side, inching ever closer to a spot that's way too inappropriate for Family Fun Weekend. At least out in the backyard.

"Chuck!" she whispers,

He wraps her in his arms, neither of them caring that he's not fully dry yet. Her hand rests on her favorite part of his body, that spot in his chest. She looks at the words again and reads them. For Sarah and Billy. It makes her feel good.

"If Billy comes home one day with a tattoo I'm blaming you."

"Now, when you say blame, do you mean..." he whispers something in her ear that is definitely too inappropriate for Family Fun Weekend.

"Isn't that how Billy was conceived?"

Chuck nods mischievously. He kisses Sarah and closes his eyes.

Sometimes really bad things have to happen in order for really good things to come. Sometimes your former best friend has to get you mixed up in the spy life so that the love of your life has to come and protect you. And sometimes something so extraordinarily bad has to happen right in front of your eyes that you forget every last secret that's stored in your brain. Sometimes you have to lose something to gain something. Chuck's main goal right now is to make sure that everything bad is behind them.

There was a time in his life when he closed his eyes and all he could see was the horror of one night. But now, whenever he closes his eyes, he sees the faces of his family.

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Sarah observed Chuck from across the table. This lunch-break date was his idea; an attempt to get to know each other better so that they'd make a more convincing pair in front of his sister and her boyfriend. They were going over things that would normally come up in conversation on a first date. Grabbing his corn dog absentmindedly Chuck seemed to remember to give it another look before taking a bite out of it. It was so charred it was more black than brown. He smiled nervously and took a bite anyway. Sarah smiled watching him chew with effort.

"You don't have to eat that," she said. "I know they're horrible. Still haven't got the hang of the Weinerlicious deep frier."

"It's delicious," Chuck said through a mouthful of grimace.

Sarah didn't know whether he was eating it because he was a gentleman or because he was still very, very scared of the CIA agent who'd showed up in his life not a week earlier.

"Really," she said. "You don't have to."

Chuck promptly spat into his napkin. "Thank you."

The thing that she was learning about Chuck was that he was sometimes very eager to please. Like a puppy. And that he was very sweet. This was only significant because she had never been attracted to men who were sweet. And the more time that she spent with Chuck the more she realized that she was indeed attracted to him. She liked that he was tall and lanky, she liked that she could tell everything that he was thinking just by looking in his eyes. She even liked his hair. But she especially liked his smile. If they ever had a kid she'd want him to have his smile.

She sat up a little straighter, surprised by her own thought.

"You ok?" Chuck asked.

Sarah nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She couldn't believe she'd just imagined having kids with the asset. And it was only the fourth day she knew him. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind before it could turn into trouble.

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