A/N: Thank you once again for your reviews – you guys are awesome. This is the third and final installment, so I hope you find it satisfactory ;) I love to know what you think. All of the previous A/N and disclaimers still apply.

Chapter 3 – Find a Way Home

"Wow. That is a…big…car?"

"Did the Intersect help you with that, or did you do that all on your own?" Casey scoffed at the remarkably obvious statement Chuck had made, and looked back under the hood. "Damn right it's a big car: 1972 Mercury Marquis, 429 cubic inch engine, V-8, original body color and chrome…" His voice trailed off, and he leaned back down to continue tinkering with the engine.

Chuck could tell he was trying to ignore him, hoping that he would get bored and go back to the house. The curly-haired man stood with his arms crossed in the doorway of the garage and decided that whatever was going on out here was definitely more exciting than reruns of Laverne and Shirley.

Chuck had watched Casey put on his coat and trod out to the white garage behind his mother's house about thirty minutes earlier. His curiosity had finally gotten the better of him, and he had wandered through the back yard, and opened the service door to the small out-building. An overhead industrial light shone brightly on a workbench with hand tools, a power saw, and paint cans lined up neatly. However, almost the entire garage was taken up by the royal blue classic car parked in the center. The large man stood with his hands on his hips next to the car and then reached into his pocket.

"Here." Casey spoke, and Chuck barely had time to catch the small cluster of objects that had been pitched underhand towards him. "Make yourself useful. Try to start it."

Decided to suspend rule three, huh? Chuck thought as he made a grab for the keys and got behind the wheel. After several attempts, the engine roared to life and Casey closed the hood. "Out," Casey said, and when Chuck complied, the older man slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. He used the automatic opener attached to the visor to open the garage door.

"Get in," he said when the window slowly lowered on the passenger side.

"We're going somewhere..?"

"Can't leave you here, idiot; just get in." The younger man climbed in, and Casey shifted the car into gear. Chuck could not help but notice that the older man looked almost…content.

That expression just seemed out of place on Casey's face.

"Noticed mother is a little low on some Christmas cheer. There is a liquor store on the corner." Casey said, and backed the behemoth of a vehicle down the driveway and into the street. Christmas Eve had been a gray, drizzling, bleak day and it was already becoming dark outside. It was good to get out of the house for awhile. Even though Mrs. Casey had been a gracious host, Chuck was going a little stir crazy without his usual electronic distractions and not knowing how Sarah was doing in Washington.

Not exactly how I envisioned spending Christmas Eve; heading to the liquor store with Casey in a car from the Nixon era, he thought to himself bitterly, and wondered again what Sarah was doing. He leaned his head back against the vinyl head rest and sighed. God, I am an idiot. How can I be so selfish? This may not be my ideal holiday, but hers is non-existent, he thought.

Casey startled him out of his thoughts. "We're leaving tomorrow. Have your crap by the door at 1300."

Chuck looked at the man, preparing to gage the reaction to the question he was getting ready to ask. He knew Casey would not answer him directly, but maybe he could read his face.

"Hey, Casey. Do you think Sarah will be back by then too? Have you talked to her?"

"Not my mission, Chuck. " That face is made of stone, Chuck observed.

-x-

Casey had told him to stay in the car and not touch anything while he made a quick "stop and grab" for the liquor, so when Casey disappeared around the corner and into the store, Chuck proceeded to shuffle through the papers in the glove box. Not finding anything of interest, Chuck stretched out his long legs and yawned. He glanced down at the archaic push button radio controls, and fiddled with the heater. Suddenly, the nerd broke out of his musings when there was a distinct tapping on the car window.

"Get out. Now."

"You know, I am getting a little sick and tired of hearing about rule thre…" He jerked his head up from the controls to glare at his handler and the next words stuck in his throat.

Oh, shit. That was definitely not Casey's face looking through the car window. And no matter how many times he had looked down the barrel of a gun, it was never something he would get used to.

"I said move!" The man waving the handgun in his face opened the car door, grabbed Chuck's arm, and pulled the lanky man out of car. Chuck held his hands out in front of him, the universal sign of surrender.

"Easy. I don't want any trouble here." He tried to be calm. Chuck's mind raced as he studied the average height, stocky man who had now shoved him up against the passenger door. Fulcrum? Ring? C'mon Intersect, c'mon, c'mon, need a little help here…where's "Neo?"

The good news, Chuck thought, was that he didn't have to worry about having a gun in his face anymore. That's because it was now pressed against his temple.

"Gimme your wallet and the keys to the car."

"Wait. You want the keys to this car?" He tilted his head towards the Marquis and opened his eyes wide in a sarcastic gesture.

"Do it." The man was not amused; he hissed through clenched teeth and shoved the gun harder against the side of Chuck's head.

Shit, this is not happening, he thought. He had taken down weapon smugglers, global terrorists, people who wanted to commit unspeakable acts of destruction against humanity, and now he was about to get capped by a desperate man with shaky hands and wild eyes . And the Intersect is doing nothing. Damn you, he thought, though he wasn't exactly sure who "you" was in that context.

That had to be the moment when Casey circled the cinder block store with his paper sack in one hand and the keys jangling in the other.

"Uh…Casey?" Before the older man could process the sight of the asset on the verge of being sent to his maker, the gunman pressing a pistol to Chuck's head spun and pointed his gun directly at Casey's head.

"The keys. Now."

With that, Intersect 2.0 came online.

Less than a minute later, Chuck stood panting out quick breaths and filling his lungs with icy air that burned his throat. His mind reeling he only remembered his legs cutting through the air, a few well-placed kicks, and then Casey had the dirtbag cuffed on the ground.

"Get in the car. I'll call it in."

Before Casey reached for his phone though, he glared at the younger man.

"What the hell was that, anyway, Bartowski?! Why didn't that kick in sooner?" The word "that" was accentuated with a slap to the side of Chuck's head. "How about doing that when the gun was pointed at you, you idiot!"

Suddenly, Casey blanched when he was struck by a realization, and he looked at the younger man. He watched as Chuck's face went through a gamut of emotions: horrified, confused, followed by a blank look. And then, Chuck grinned.

Maybe that's not what the 'Intersect' would have done, he thought. But, it is what 'Chuck' would've done. I won't let this thing control me. I won't.

"Get out of my sight," Casey barked. Chuck took that to mean 'Get back in the car', so he did. He watched as Casey made a quick call, and then got back in the car. "We're leaving the scum here. The locals are on the way."

As the bloated sedan was maneuvered through the residential streets and back to the Casey home, Chuck snuck a look at the driver now deep in thought. Casey spoke only once more before they pulled in the driveway.

"Bartowski, you are a moron."

Hmmphf.

Chuck did not need the Intersect 2.0 language translator to interpret that sentiment.

You're welcome, he thought.

-x-

The warm fire, smell of smoked ham, and bubbling voices was a sharp contrast to the harrowing experience they had just encountered. After entering the home and shaking off the chill, Chuck watched as Casey set the bag on the countertop, and sifted through the cupboard for a glass as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They were greeted by Casey's sister, who had arrived with her family for Christmas Eve dinner.

"Where have you been? I see you took the old girl out for a test drive." She kissed her brother's cheek, and wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing tightly.

"Gotta ride the old girls hard to keep them limber," he smirked, which earned him a slap on the arm from the woman.

"You're incorrigible, John. No wonder you've never met a girl who will put up with you. Which, I've been meaning to ask; have you met any women?"

Extra points for the sisterly move of working that into the conversation, Chuck observed, and decided to leave the two in the kitchen, even though it would be fun to watch Casey squirm during his sister's interrogation. At the thought of sisters, Chuck could not help but feel homesick and wonder how Ellie was faring with the Awesomes. This was his first Christmas without his big sister.

Chuck quietly left the siblings and made his way up the stairs. He found the empty bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he made a call.

"Hey, sis."

"Hey. Why didn't you call me sooner? How's Sarah?"

"Good, she's good." It was getting too easy to lie. "She forgot something at her place, and wanted to go back and get it. Just thought I'd call." It's good to hear your voice. I miss you, he thought.

"Well, thanks." She lowered her voice. "You rescued me."

"That bad, huh?"

"Hmph. You know Honey," referring to the blonde dominator who was now her mother-in-law. "Let's just say she is a bit of a control freak, and likes to meddle in family member's lives."

"Really, sis?" he deadpanned.

"Very funny. That's different. I'm your sister." She became more serious. "I'm glad we did this though…visiting Devon's family. I can tell; it was important for him to come home, connect with his brothers. He deserved this. Besides," she chuckled, "You really get to know someone when you see them with their family."

Chuck couldn't contain a cough, thinking about the earlier fiasco with Jack Burton, and the past two days in Chicago.

"Chuck, take something for that if you're getting a cold."

"Sis? Merry Christmas. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

He ended the call, and looking in the bathroom mirror, Chuck sighed. Ellie's words and her ability to compromise did make him realize something. He was being somewhat of a resentful ass, he admitted to himself. And not just about being here. His stubbornness, combined with Sarah's inability to express herself without sharp knives and a steady hand would eventually tear them apart.

"You can be a real idiot, you know?" Even his reflection seemed to agree with him.

Tonight, he decided, he would just be grateful. Tomorrow, he would be with his own family, and hopefully Sarah would be home. He had some mending to do; they both did.

-x-

Later, they sat around the table of food, with the hum of conversation and laughter. Suddenly, the sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the din, and Chuck realized it was his. His fork clattered to his plate as the room grew quiet when all eyes turned to stare at him. Flustered, Chuck's eyes scanned around the table at the quizzical faces. He pulled the phone from his front pocket and tried to hold back the pleased look on his face when he saw it was Sarah calling from her cell.

"So sorry. That's my dad. International call. I should take this," he blurted out and darted up from the table. He crossed into the living room, away from prying ears and eyes, and answered the call.

"Hey, Sarah." God, did he really sound that relieved?

"Hey. Are you still okay?"

"Oh, you know how it is." He looked into the dining room and lowered his voice even more. "Nothing out of the ordinary here. Talking, watching TV, playing cards, almost getting gunned down by a carjacker, eating cheesecake, …"

"Wait. What did you say?"

"I'll tell you about it later. What about you? Are you still in Washington?"

"No, there was nothing left to do there." She sounded bitter.

"Sarah, I will see you tomorrow then, right?"

"No, Chuck." What!? He felt a wave of panic and swallowed nervously.

"You're leaving? Now?" His voice cracked. Smooth, he thought sarcastically.

He heard her sigh. "Just go outside, okay."

-x-

Chuck saw the familiar golden head of hair first. She stood on the porch next to the stairs, wearing blue jeans and a thick sweater. He studied her face for a moment. Her shoulders hung wearily and her eyes were dark and tired. God, she is still so beautiful. Sarah was watching him with a wistful look on her face. Confusion, relief, and elation bubbled to the surface. He pushed back his emotions and stepped outside.

"You're freezing. Come in."

"Wait." She paused. "No, not yet. I just want to stay out here for a few minutes first. Grab a coat? " she asked.

He walked back inside and straight into the immovable object that was now waiting on the other side of the door. Chuck tried to ignore the look on Casey's face; his eyes were squinted, his lips pressed together in a frown and he was seriously pissed. Of course he noticed me leave. It's what he does.

"If Walker blows this op and endangers my family, I'll…" he growled.

"Casey, this is Sarah we are talking about. Just go back in there with your family, okay?" With one last glare, and to Chuck's surprise, the older man returned to the dining room.

Chuck pulled on his jacket quickly, and spotted Casey's fleece hanging next to it on a peg by the door. Grabbing it, he pushed the door open, crossed the porch and offered it up to Sarah.

"Here, put this on, okay? It's warmer than what you have." He reached behind her and helped put the jacket over her shoulders. Sarah pulled her arms through the sleeves. The coat was enormous on the slim woman, hanging past her hips, but she pulled it tight around her upper body and nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks." she said quietly.

He had not noticed until now that the temperature had dropped enough to turn the light drizzle to snow. The flakes were wet and misshaped, the imprecise kind that land with almost a splash and melt on contact with the brittle grass.

Chuck moved to stand closer to her, his eyes trailing across her face. It had been awkward and tense between them for weeks, and he tried to comprehend why she would be here, now, this far from home.

Did you come all the way here to still not open up to me? He sighed.

"Can you tell me what happened in Washington? Is something wrong? Is Meredith going to be okay?"

With that, her eyes flashed with anger and then turned even darker. She blew out a breath and looked at him. He could see her knuckles turn white while she gripped the railing behind her.

"I was betrayed again; Chuck, we were betrayed by someone I trusted. I needed…Dammit." She hissed under her breath and stopped.

She had come too far, they had come too far, and he was not going to let them ruin this now, or have an awkward silence that would later keep him up at night, tossing and turning in bed. Drawing a breath, he began to speak, hesitated, and then made the decision to plow ahead with his words.

"Sarah, I know you don't want to tell me why you are here. That's okay. It's not even important really. Whatever reason you have for coming here, I just want to say... I know how you think, and it wasn't a mistake." Those words sounded inadequate; he had felt his heart banging and his stomach flutter when he saw her. How can I tell her that; what she does to me?

She still did not speak, and glanced out across the yard so she would not have to look at him.

Just talk to me, he pleaded in his mind. When she held her silence, he looked across the yard and up at the street lights; the beam of light reflected off scattered snowflakes that were falling to the pavement. "Sarah, come here." He took her hand, and pulled her gently down the wooden steps of the porch, and on to the lawn. He could feel her relax in his hold as they trudged to the center of the yard. "I want you to feel this."

Chuck spread his arms and tilted his face upward. The flakes began to melt in his hair and covered his coat with a dusting. "I've never seen snow on Christmas," he chuckled, and closed his eyes. He was hoping the blissful silliness of standing out in the snow with arms wide would have gotten a reaction, any reaction, from her. She didn't reply. Just say something, tell me wh…

"I have."

Startled, he listened as she continued.

"Cleveland. Wisconsin. I remember it. It wasn't like this, though."

They let the silence of the night envelope them. She had opened up to him, even a little. It was a start, a beginning. Chuck decided to press forward.

"So, can I ask you a question?" In his mind he added, and will you answer it? "You said you needed something. Can you tell me what made you come here?"

Chuck watched her face as she struggled for the words, and he read something that he was surprised to see. God, she is angry. At me?

"You think it's you, don't you?" she said, her eyes sparkling with intensity.

He needs me to tell him?! Sarah thought. Can't he see how I feel? Why does he do this? She was afraid of what he had caused her to do; traveling part way across the country to see him, risking too much. And she was…angry. Angry at him for that power over her, for the weakness it displayed. Repressed emotions that had simmered for too long were seeping out, and caused her throat to burn. It was him. His sweet and charming ways had disarmed her.

And, yes, she was angry for that.

Chuck looked at her, baffled by the remark, and the fact that she sounded infuriated with him.

Sarah stared at him intently, holding her hands in fists at her side before taking a breath. She almost choked on each word when she finally continued. "You. Why do you…why do you do this?" She hissed. "You think it's… your damn charm… your stupid movies, the way you look when you're solving a problem, your…crazy hair, and your ridiculous, crooked smile."

Her voice grew louder as she continued to unleash a tirade that he had rarely witnessed from the woman. "I bet you think it's your lousy hamburgers, and family dinners… Or the Christmas presents, and eating pizza on paper plates! You think I'm charmed by the way you help your friends without expecting anything back! You think I'm here because of... bridesmaid's dresses, chocolate croissants and freaking Berry Loops…!"

"Does that bother you? Because I can stop that, really…"

"See? Why do you do that?!" She paused, letting out a growl and put her palm on her forehead. "Damn you, Chuck Bartowski!" Bringing her hand down to her side, she turned to gaze at him intently.

A confused expression was plastered on Chuck's face. "Sarah, are you angry at me? Did I do something?"

She sighed heavily. "Yes...no. Chuck, it's not what you did." She looked down at her feet, as if the right words could be found anywhere else but his eyes. "God, why does this have to be so hard?" Her eyes finally connected with his. "It's what I did. I let myself get emotional. Involved. Because of you."

It is me, he thought.

He stepped closer, so that their bodies touched, and gazed down at her. A lopsided smile began to grow on his face. Drained from her pent-up outburst, she was breathing out small puffs of air that clouded in front of her when they met the cold. He wrapped her in his arms, and pressed his cheek in her hair.

Not exactly how and where I expected this to happen. For her to finally open up to me. I need to see her smile, he thought.

"If there was some mistletoe here I would be forced to kiss you right now."

"It didn't work out so well last time," she said softly.

"That is because it was being held over our heads by a man who coordinates his wardrobe with his beverage of choice," referring to a drunken Jeff at the Buy More holiday party. He became serious again when their eyes met. "Maybe we should give it another try."

"Maybe we should." He knew that she was not talking about the mistletoe anymore.

Chuck brought his hand up to her face and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. When he leaned in to kiss her, his lips responded to the warmth and softness of her mouth. It was slow and languid at first; an unhurried burn. She traced her tongue gently along his bottom lip, exploring tentatively and he groaned lightly.

When the kiss ended, Chuck pushed his lips together, looked down at the ground and then met her eyes again.

"Wow. Okay. Did I tell you how glad I am that you're here?"

She looked up and him and then to the porch. "Chuck, I owe you a better explanation, so let me say this okay?" Sarah hesitated, and bit her lip, while looking at him. She spoke quietly. "When the general told me to go home for Christmas, I didn't know where that was. But I think I figured out where to start looking for it. That's why I'm here." She sighed quietly, and looked down at her hands.

His grin somehow became even bigger and he squeezed her hand.

"We need to go in," she said. And meet the angry beast, Chuck added to himself. They had felt pleasantly isolated and protected outside in the snow. It was time to face what was behind the doors.

"Are you sure?" He smiled. "I feel like I should warn you about them. You remember that scene in Episode IV, with the beady-eyed creatures; well, be prepared to meet the Caseys." As he held the door open for her, he noticed that she even smiled at that.

Casey met them in the foyer. Had he been watching us the whole time? Chuck wondered.

"So, the 'girlfriend' who dumped the nerd comes crawling back; is that the cover story now?" He snorted and then growled at the blonde woman. "Keep to the cover, and maybe we can salvage this cluster." Sarah glared at him, with a look that clearly drew a line in the sand. Back off, Casey. I can handle this.

The three entered the dining room, looking at the eager faces.

"Uh, this is…I want to introduce you to my friend, Sarah…girlfriend, actually."

-x-

The dinner and conversation trickled to a content close for the night. Casey allowed his sister to hold him in hug, embarrassed because his teammates watched from the kitchen with knowing smiles on their faces. Jen promised to stop by in the morning one last time before they left for the airport. With the last visitor out the door, the small home now felt quiet and peaceful.

-x-

Mrs. Casey had said goodnight to her son, and stacked the last of the plates in the sink, deciding it was time for bed. The older woman turned off the light in the foyer, held the front of her robe up and away from her stocking feet, and climbed the stairs. Before she reached the top step, she stopped in the darkened staircase and pivoted quietly on her toes. She cast a glance over the banister and studied the scene in the living room, unnoticed. Chuck sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, legs stretched lazily out in front of him. The girl sat in one of the chairs, with her legs tucked under her. Mrs. Casey watched her son, as his eyes shifted from one to the other.

What have you gotten yourself into? she wondered to herself. You've always been alone, the operator, but this girl, she's part of your operation; important to you. They both are. She chuckled, thinking how much it must have pained her stubborn son to have to work with the much younger female. He respects her though, she thought. It would also pain you to know that I've known for years what you are. That doesn't change who you are, though, she silently reminded him.

The young man with the curly hair puzzled her. He didn't possess the hollow mask that she often saw her son wear, and one that was evident with the woman as well. He was open, more affable and care free, and she was glad for that. I hope you keep that, she thought. She didn't understand their connection, not enough of it anyway, but that was okay. She knew her son had found an oddly dysfunctional but loyal extended family.

Take care of yourself. Take care of them, she thought and turned to climb the stairs.

-x-

"That's your bunk." The green sleeping bag bounced near Sarah's feet and rolled against the leg of the coffee table.

With a bit of sarcasm in her voice, she replied. "Thanks, Casey. I'll take it from here."

The big man frowned and then glared at both of them like a pair of teenagers, silently daring them to cross over the line while under his mother's roof. He used the poker to adjust the logs in the fireplace, creating a small burst of embers. He then trudged up the stairs, and they could hear the door to his room close quietly.

Silently, Sarah unfurled the sleeping bag, and worked the zipper down the side and across the bottom. Chuck watched her from his position on the sofa.

"I'll take the floor. You come up here." He patted one of the well-worn cushions.

She ignored him and continued to methodically unzip the bag completely, and laid it flat on the floor.

"Come down here, with me." She gently tugged on his forearm and pulled him towards the floor.

"You just want me for my blanket." He teased and waved the red plaid cover in front of her.

"If I only wanted the blanket, I would have taken it by now."

Staring at her, he slid off of the sofa cushion, pulling his blanket and pillow behind him, and landed on the floor with a muffled thud. She laid her hand gently on his shoulder and pushed him back, until he was lying on his side, facing her. Sarah spread out the blanket on both of them, and then reclined until she was on her side, looking up at him.

"You have to promise me something."

"Just tell me what it is."

She spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear the words. "Don't change. Don't lose yourself for this," tapping his forehead.

Chuck sighed heavily and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Sarah, I may have been an idiot at times and not always thinking things through, but I promise. Trust me. We'll figure this out, okay? I'm still me and I'm not going anywhere; I'll be here." He paused to look around the room. "Well, not here here, as in here, but here…", as he motioned his hands between them.

Sarah tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "Shut up, Chuck."

She made sure that he did by sliding a hand around the back of his neck and pulling his head down until their lips met.

Shutting up has never tasted like this; God, I was doing it all wrong before. Shutting up is way underrated, he thought.

When their lips parted, Sarah snuggled her head into his chest, and placed a hand lightly on his side. He could hear her soft breathing in an even cadence.

"Sarah?" He whispered, while slowing brushing his finger tips across her back. "The 'crazy hair' thing, though? What you said outside, earlier? There is nothing I can do about it. Believe me, I tried. Ellie's tried. I could shave it, but then I think I would look like that guy from the movie, remember the movie, with …Sarah? Did you fall asleep? If you did, goodnight, okay? And, I am going to be saying that every night from now on, so I hope you get used to it. The 'goodnight' part, I mean. Not the other part. Sarah?....goodnight."

The End

A/N: Blessings and Peace