A/N: Written for Live Journal's Story Lottery Challenge.

Disclaimer: I own Chuck. Oh, wait. That was my wishful thinking talking.

A second. It only takes a second.

Two days ago, Chuck flashed on Ammon Elgabri, the Egyptian spy who had been stealing American secrets for over a year. Beckman had been quite pleased. Apparently, the U.S. had been trying to capture Elgabri for months when one day, he had wandered unassumingly into the Buy More. Within a matter of hours, the mission had been ironed out and examined from every angle until it was pronounced air tight.

It was supposed to be simple. They were tasked to break into Elgabri's hideout, intent solely on capturing the target and getting out alive.

Everything should have gone according to plan. That is, if Chuck had actually stayed in the car. Instead, when the monitor depicted an enemy agent advancing toward an unknowing Sarah, and when the mic seemed to stop working, he had hightailed it out of the vehicle to warn the CIA agent.

Almost immediately, he was apprehended by Elgabri's henchmen and taken to Elgabri himself.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, everything can change.

The moment Sarah discovered the enemy agent skulking behind her, she delivered a well-placed roundhouse kick, leaving the man unconscious on the floor. After double-checking her surroundings, she rushed from the room into a new part of the building, intent on finding Elgabri. It was then that she heard the shrill scream, echoing off the walls and piercing right into her chest.

"Chuck!" she cried, turning in mid-stride and racing toward the source of the sound.

She entered the dilapidated, dimly lit room to find Casey standing to the side, gun poised and jaw clenched. But this was not the sight that caught her attention, that caused her heart to stop and her eyes to widen in fear.

Directly in front of her was Chuck, Ammon Elgabri's muscular left arm tightened across his chest while his right hand held a knife to the computer nerd's throat. Chuck's face was pale, his curls were disheveled, and a thin line of blood was already dripping from his neck.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, her entire world can be turned upside down.

"Chuck!" Sarah cried again, her voice frantic. She moved forward automatically, a lethal glint within her ice blue eyes. "Let him go," she demanded, just as Casey cautioned, "Walker . . ."

"Uh uh uh," Elgabri grunted, dragging Chuck back as he pressed the knife more tightly against his throat. "You not want make me angry."

Sarah stopped in her tracks as a fresh line of blood trickled from Chuck's wound. Forcing herself not to visibly tremble, she quickly assessed the situation. Before going into the building, she and Casey had counted four bodyguards plus Elgabri. So far, she had taken down three and she was willing to bet that Casey had taken down at least one. That meant that Elgabri was the only one left.

What they needed was a distraction.

As if reading her mind, Casey fired a shot into the drooping ceiling, causing the Egyptian to jump in surprise. Impulsively, Sarah charged forward and aimed a jump kick at Elgabri's right temple, a desperate cry tearing itself from her throat. Unfortunately, just as her foot was to make contact with the enemy's skull, the man sidestepped the CIA agent. Sarah stumbled back down to the floor, the clatter of her boots reverberating throughout the small room.

When she recovered her balance, she was greeted with a sight even more terrifying than the first. The Egyptian had pressed the knife even further into Chuck's skin, the enemy's face splitting into a malicious smile as he shook his head balefully. Before her horrified eyes, blood began to drip liberally down the computer nerd's exposed throat.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, she can lose the man who has inadvertently become the center of her world.

Emitting a gasp which caused Sarah's blood to run cold, Chuck's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed against the enemy's broad chest. Unconscious. Unconscious? Or was he . . . Was he . . . No. NO.

"NO!" Sarah screamed as the foreign spy threw Chuck's lifeless form onto the ground as if it were nothing more than unwanted debris.

For a moment, tears clouded her eyes as she stared helplessly at Chuck's fallen body. Then, with a guttural cry, she threw herself at the man, her fists and boots connecting with every available surface of his muscular frame. All self-awareness ceased, leaving Sarah oblivious that Elgabri was getting in some key punches and one bone-jarring kick of his own. It was only when a thin-lipped Casey pulled her away from the Egyptian's barely conscious body that she realized her face had been scratched and one of her ribs appeared to be bruised.

Still, other than a cursory awareness, she took no time to address her own injuries. Instead, as Casey extracted his handcuffs to arrest Elgabri, she flung herself onto the floor and quickly scooted over to Chuck's unmoving form. "Chuck," she whispered, pulling his head into her lap and gazing at him with a deep intensity. Her hands trembling slightly, she ran her fingers lightly over the wound at his neck.

It was only then that she felt the pulse beating beneath his skin.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, she can realize everything she almost lost, and everything she can't bear to lose.

Her eyes widened as a sense of relief washed over her athletic frame. "Chuck," she said, her voice stronger. "Chuck, wake up."

Her breath hitched in her throat as she waited for him to listen, to show her that he was okay. That he wasn't . . . that Elgabri hadn't permanently hurt him. Finally, after several tense seconds, Chuck's fingers began to twitch and his eyes began to move underneath their heavy lids. Several seconds after that, he was opening them slowly and blinking in confusion.

"Hey," Sarah breathed, smiling tightly. "Are you okay?"

Chuck blinked sluggishly up at her. "Sarah? What happened?"

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, her world can be ripped apart or mended together again.

"You disobeyed orders and got out of the car," she said in a clipped tone.

"I'm sorry," he replied sheepishly, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Look alive, you two," Casey barked, causing Sarah to blink and tense. "We've gotta get out of here."

Immediately, a cool mask slipped over Sarah's face, disguising the emotion which had been there only a few seconds before. Moving quickly to her feet, she prodded Chuck to wrap an arm around her neck so that she could help him from the room. But even as they walked slowly from the chamber, and even as Casey slung Elgabri over his shoulder, Sarah's heart hammered in her chest. And as she led Chuck back to the car, and when she sat beside him in the backseat, she found herself leaning into his touch and finding every excuse to brush against his lanky frame, her skin prickling with each brush of his smooth skin.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, she can discover how much she actually cares.

When Casey dropped them off at Chuck's condominium, Sarah didn't think twice when she headed inside. After everything that happened tonight, there was no way she was going to leave Chuck alone. After everything that happened tonight, there was no way she was going to let him out of her sight. Especially considering the fact that Ellie and Awesome were gone for the weekend.

Slipping through the door of the condo, she ignored Chuck's raised brow and headed immediately for the bathroom. Somehow, Chuck knew to follow. And when she reached underneath the sink and grabbed the First Aid kit, he knew to sit on the toilet seat and allow her to minister to his wound, no questions asked. Even so, his forehead creased as he watched her extract several items from the kit. "Sarah –"

"Quiet," she interrupted, pursing her lips as she studied the slit across his throat. She felt a small twinge of guilt when Chuck's eyes widened at her tone, followed by a sharp jolt of relief when she realized that the wound wasn't as deep as first thought. "Chuck," she said, a little less stern than originally intended, "You could have been killed. What the hell were you thinking?"

Cringing as Sarah dabbed disinfectant along his wound, Chuck's eyes locked onto her heated gaze. "I thought you were in danger," he said softly. "I wanted to help."

"It's not your job to help," she said, throwing the disinfectant wipe into the trash. "It's your job to listen." It's your job to stay alive so that I won't feel like my heart's being ripped out of my chest.

"Even if it means leaving you in danger?" Chuck asked, a shadow of stubbornness wafting over his face.

"Yes," Sarah cried, rubbing Chuck's neck a little too hard with a cotton swab. When she'd finished, only a thin red line remained. "Yes, Chuck. Even if it means my life, you need to follow orders."

The stubbornness flickering across Chuck's face forced itself into his eyes, which hardened perceptibly. "I can't do that, Sarah. You know I can't do that."

Sarah gritted her teeth, glaring at the computer nerd. "Why not?" she snapped.

Chuck took a deep breath, an internal battle waging itself within his eyes. Finally, he laced his fingers through the negative spaces of Sarah's own, still playing along the edge of his laceration. "Because," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "I'm in love with you."

Sarah's expression turned inscrutable even while her lips parted and her heart skipped.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, the feelings which she has forced back for so long can finally come to the surface, powerful and all too intense after being held back for two years.

Chuck's words caressed her ears, clear and distinct in the tiny bathroom. And as she stared at the man who had just confessed his love for her – the man she was certain she had lost only a short hour before – her entire world shifted. Before either really knew what was happening, she had threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him toward her, crushing her lips to his soft, supple mouth. And after a strangled, eager gasp from the back of Chuck's throat, he was suddenly kissing her back.

Rising to his feet, he ran his hands down her arms, up her back, into her hair, causing goose bumps to break out onto her skin and her breathing to turn ragged. Every reservation, every inhibition that had ever kept her from loving Chuck Bartowski was immediately released. In their place was a deep longing, a deep desire, a deep need to forget everything else and simply feel.

Grabbing hold of Chuck's shirt collar, Sarah began moving him toward his room and his waiting bed. The two collapsed onto the mattress in a mass of tangled limbs, their tongues moving together sensuously as their eager fingers explored every available inch of soft flesh. And while her body ached from the injuries sustained in the fight, she didn't give it a second thought. Because when their bodies began moving in a passionate, frenzied rhythm, euphoric pressure building in their groins as fire coursed across their skin, her mind went blissfully blank and she relaxed into Chuck's earnest, loving touch.

A second. It only takes a second. Because in a second, you can let go and finally give in.

And even though she knew she'd have to answer to the CIA tomorrow morning, and even though she had no idea how she was going to keep them from reassigning her, she wasn't going to think about it tonight. Because tonight, she was going to give in to the feelings she'd forced back for the past two years.

Tonight, she wasn't going to waste a second letting Chuck know how she really felt.