A/N: Listen, if you walk into this fic with any kind of seriousness….you're only hurting yourself. This is just me writing to let loose some steam, two agents in crazy situations, and them being crazy. If you're along for that ride, welcome.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
There was a knock on the door, a knock he recognized. He walked toward it, confused, she had her own key, why was she knocking? Opening the door, he found her standing there, drenched by the rain. Her clothes were visibly ripped, bruises all over her, at least what he could see that wasn't covered by a trench coat. But the thing that stood out… he thing that scared him… was all the glitter.
"How many did you kill?" he asked.
"Every damn one of them," she growled, walking past him, madder than a baptized cat. "And I lost my keys."
"I thought you were going down there to run surveillance, and if something happened, you were going to call me, and I'd be back up," he said, shutting the door. He followed her to the bathroom. He got hit in the face with her wet coat, for his trouble. "What happened, Sarah? You never have this many bruises from a fight."
"They tipped over a shelf on me," she said, spinning, anger covering her face. "It's not like in those stupid Christmas movies you watch," she began.
"Listen, Home Alone and Home Alone 2 are classics," Chuck retorted.
"There was glitter, all over those shelves," Sarah growled.
"And the clothes?" he asked, seeing a lot of body.
"Don't worry, anyone who saw me in this state… they aren't seeing anything else ever again." Chuck shook his head. "They were mobsters, Chuck!"
"Oh, I know, but I'm sure they didn't deserve to see you before they left this mortal coil."
She stopped cleaning herself off, and turned slowly toward him. "You're mad," she began.
"Oh, no," he replied, walking toward the living room.
"I am sorry," she began.
"You were sorry last time, when you got that serial murderer without me!" Chuck said, sitting on the couch, crossing his arms, irritated.
Sarah realized she was standing in her living room, barely half dressed, her clothes torn, dripping water, glitter everywhere. Her entire body hurt, but it was the emotional hurt that mattered right now. She had promised him she wouldn't do this to him.
"You've still not forgiven me," he said softly.
"Chuck, I have," she insisted.
"I told them this was a bad idea, that you-"
"Do not say I'm a wildcard," Sarah said, the warning evident in her voice.
"I told you we didn't have to do this," Chuck said, looking up at her.
"Well, it is your fault," she retorted.
"And how exactly do you figure that?" he asked, standing.
"You were the one, when we began this partnership and I asked what you wanted out of it, that said to me – and I quote – "I was just kind of hoping that you'd, y'know… fall in love with me." She gave him a significant look, and he grinned at her. "Come here."
"Why?" he asked, not moving.
"Just come here."
"Nope, you're gonna hit me," he said, crossing his arms.
She tilted her head to the side. "Yeah, but you like it." He grinned at her. "I'm not mad at you, Chuck. I knew what getting married meant, that we'd be partnering together, but you did have your own mission today-"
"Getting the oil changed is not a mission," he replied, petulantly.
"It became one when I told you I was gonna kill the guy, if he made another lewd comment about my ass," she reminded him.
"You may have a problem."
"You married me," she reminded him. He nodded. "I am who I am," she said with a shrug. "And you love me."
"I do," Chuck said, still not moving toward her.
"Fiiiiiiine," she said, nearly stomping her foot, but didn't. "I got something for you. That's why I was there."
"What did you do?" he asked, worry on his face.
"Well, you don't have to say it like that," she replied, a grin creeping across her face. "I found Diego." His eyes lit up. "See, now do you know why I had to do this alone?"
"Sarah, you could have gotten hurt!" He looked her over. "You did get hurt."
"Pffft," she said, waving her hand, and wincing as the muscles tightened up.
"Okay," he said, walking toward her, turning her toward the bathroom, and gently leading her there. "Time for a shower, or you'll never get the glitter off, and then you'll tense up."
"Will you wash my back?" she asked with a grin.
"Gurl, I'll wash whatever you ask me to," he said, taking her into the bathroom and shutting the door.
}o{
"Is that blood?" Chuck asked her a few days later, as she climbed back into the surveillance van.
"No?" Sarah replied.
"That's not a question you're supposed to answer with a question," Chuck said. Sarah gave a shrug. "What happened?"
"Remember Diego's driver?" Chuck nodded. "He's taken care of."
"You don't have to kill them all," Chuck reminded her.
"It's what I was trained and told to do. Besides, you're just mad because you wanted to kill him." She gave him a look. "I'm sorry, murder wasn't on today's agenda."
"It not on anyone's," Chuck replied.
"No, it's on mine, but not until next Tuesday." Chuck's eyes went wide. "That guy from Costa Gravas is supposed to be in town."
"Oh, him," Chuck said, nodding. "He's an evil one." Sarah nodded. "Anything special planned?"
"Nope, just killing him… or if I can't, at least get him captured."
"They'll let him go on diplomatic immunity," Chuck said, watching his target through the binoculars.
"Then I guess I'll just have to kill him," she said, with a shrug. There was silence for a second. "Mom called today."
"Oh," Chuck replied, not looking at her. "And how is she?"
"Wanting to know if you were still alive, or if I've killed you," she answered.
"Oh boy," Chuck muttered. "By the way, have I said thank you for not killing me this week?"
She smacked him in the leg. "You idiot. I love you, adore you, I wouldn't never kill you… unless you cheated on me."
"Now, see, I thought you'd cut parts of me off, and make me live with the knowledge I could never use those parts of me again."
"Nope, changed my mind," she said, grabbing a fry from her earlier lunch. It was cold, and she sighed, chewing it. "You're the only person I've ever trusted, Chuck."
"I know, babe, and I won't ever break it."
"I know you won't," she said. There was silence for a moment. "I'm bitter and complicated. It's one of my charms."
Chuck turned to her slowly. "I don't think you know what that word means… or how to count." She gave him a faux glare, and he just shrugged. He leaned closer.
"What?"
"How come I'm never afraid of you?" he asked. She twisted her lips. "No, I'm serious. You're one of the best in the world at what you do, one of the best in the world at killing bad guys that need to be killed. And yet, my heart, it remains in your hands, perfectly safe."
"Chuck, it's him," she said. He quickly turned watching his target. "Can I punch him in the face?"
"No, Sarah, we've talked about this."
"What if I break his nose just a little?" she asked, a glimmer in her eye. "Okay, hear me out, on a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-"
"At least a twenty," Chuck replied cutting her off. She stuck out her tongue at him.
}o{
Chuck had begun sneezing a few minutes later. As the day went on, it had gotten worse, but he refused to abandon his post… until the State Department surrounded the surveillance van. Chuck's headache was getting bad, his nose was running, and he was sneezing constantly. Even in this shape, he thought he might be better to deal with what was going on than Sarah.
Diego had cut a deal. Sarah drove them home, Chuck muttering about him getting scared after Diego found his driver dead. Sarah winced, acknowledging he was right. She got him home, and took care of him. He was lying with his head in her lap, when the phone rang.
"Director, I'm sorry, I have a clingy and feverish agent on my lap. I'll have to call you back when I've convinced him that a cold doesn't mean he's dying," she said. Graham laughed and hung up.
"And they said we wouldn't last," Chuck said, snuggling against her.
"Oh no," she said, putting her hand to her heart.
"What, what's wrong," he said, sitting up, a worried look on his face.
"I think I just felt an emotion," she replied, her eyes dancing.
Chuck shook his head. "I regret a lot of things," he began.
"I'm regretting this conversation," she muttered.
"But they never begin with you, or loving you."
"Awww," she said, batting her eyes at him. "You say that like you had a choice."
"You're right, I didn't," he said, laying back against her, grinning.
"We didn't get Diego," she said, softly.
"Don't care, got you," he replied, sleepily.
"You're getting soft."
"Yeah, but you love me," he said, drifting off to sleep. She ran her hand through his hair. He was right, she did.
A/N: It's not Adorable Psycho but that's probably the closest thing to it. It was fun, it's a one-shot…..right? Right…..EDC…why are you smiling?