Author's Note: Whew! I finally made it! A thousand apologies for the delay, but I've been off living in a tent, and I think that gives me somewhat of an excuse. :P Anyways, can't think of much else to say. Thanks for sticking with this story for so long! Hope you find the conclusion satisfying! :D

Thanks to BillatWork for his feedback.

The Porsche's tires crunch over the rocky dirt of the trailer park as Sarah slows the car to a stop. She kills the engine and leans across the seat to study the nearest trailer with a deep breath. After a month-long search, after countless roadblocks and dead ends, she's finally tracked him down.

After all the time she's spent anticipating, Sarah's worried that she's set her expectations too high. What if he's nothing like she expects? What if he doesn't want to be found? What if –

The sound of her cell phone ring drags her from her quickly-spiraling thoughts. She smiles when she sees Chuck's face on the screen.

"Hey, sweetie," she greets.

"Hey! I'm just calling to see how everything is."

Sarah smiles. "It's fine." She can't help but glance around at the nearly-deserted park as she talks to him. "I should be back by dinner."

"Great."

She can hear the relief in his voice, and his obvious worry for her warms her heart. She answers, "I'll call you on my way home, all right?"

His voice is softer when he speaks again. "Okay. Talk to you soon, then." She's about to hang up when he suddenly asks, "Sarah?"

The vulnerability infused in her name gives her pause. She swallows, her mouth dry. "Yeah?"

"Kocham cie."

Sarah smiles as she climbs out of the car. "I love you, too, Chuck."

Her smile fades as she turns toward the trailer, vague apprehension in her gut. Her hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail to keep the heat off her neck, and she throws on shiny sunglasses to protect against the mid-afternoon glare. She keeps her jacket on even in the sun, because she's only wearing a tank top underneath, and she doesn't want to meet him looking like a bum.

Cautiously, nervously, she makes her way toward the door of the trailer, her footsteps crunching as she goes. She takes a deep breath, dries her palms on her jeans before she knocks.

There's no answer. She waits another minute, strains her ears for any signs of life inside, then slowly opens the door and peeks her head inside.

Stephen Bartowski's passed out on the couch, snoring lightly, unshaven, wearing a wrinkled flannel shirt and faded jeans.

Sarah frowns, pondering her next move. She knocks on the open door frame, more loudly this time, and Mr. Bartowski wakes with a jolt, sitting upright.

"Hey, ho," he murmurs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "What's going on?" When he sees her, he stands and says, "Hello. Can I . . . can I help you?"

"Hi," Sarah smiles, taking a step inside and holding out her hand. "I'm Sarah Walker. I've actually been looking for you."

"Really?" Mr. Bartowski asks as he shakes her hand. He stares at her wrist, the charm bracelet hanging off it. "Why's that?"

She sighs, smiling. Is there an easy way to say this? "I'm marrying your son."

"Charles?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

She nods and pulls out her wallet, showing him a picture of them together at a picnic over the summer. "The wedding's two Saturdays from now. Chuck and Ellie miss you. I know they'd love it if you could come."

"Um, I don't know," he sighs, looking regretfully at the photo in his hand. "I'm sure everyone would have a much better time if I didn't."

Sarah takes a step forward. "It's your son. It's his wedding," she tells him emphatically. "How can you not want to be there for him?" She lets out a breath, calming herself. "I'm sorry. I just thought . . . I wanted this to be special for him."

She deflates, feeling like her hopes to give Chuck something he deserves are crashing in around her, and turns to leave.

"I'll need to get cleaned up before I see them."

Sarah turns back to Mr. Bartowski, an incredulous smile on her face. Suddenly self-conscious, he smoothes his t-shirt and runs his fingers through his hair in an effort to tame it.

"Give me a few minutes to pack?"

"Yeah, of course," she nods, trying to contain her delight.

"I'll be ready in five minutes," he responds, already walking back to the bedroom area and gathering some clothes. "I promise."

She smiles, because she can wait another few minutes for him after Chuck's waited all these years. "Do you need any help?" she asks.

He shakes his head and goes into the bathroom. "No, but thanks," he answers from within. "But, if you don't mind me asking, how long have you been dating my son?"

Sarah leans against the wall of the trailer and crosses her arms. "We've been together about three years now," she replies, raising her voice above the noise of the sink water running.

"And Charles, he's happy?"

"I'm sure he'll have a lot to tell you. Mr. Bartowski, I know he wants you to be there. So does Ellie."

"Call me Steve," he says, coming out of the bathroom, freshly-shaven. Chuckling, he adds, "Or Dad, if you really want to."

She laughs. "Are you ready?"

Steve nods and motions towards the door. Sarah walks towards the car while he locks up the trailer. Something rustles in the woods nearby. She straightens to attention, her eyes trained on the trees, her muscles taut as her hand strays behind her back towards her gun.

A chipmunk scampers out, oblivious, and Sarah relaxes, walking the few remaining steps to the car and hopping into the driver's seat. Steve throws his duffel bag into the back seat and sits beside her.

"You work for the government, don't you?" he asks quietly as she shifts the car into gear and pulls away from the trailer park.

"Excuse me?" Sarah asks, glancing at him sideways.

Frowning, he says, "You have a gun in the waistband of your jeans. I know what kind of people carry guns like that."

She purses her lips, contemplating her reply. She hadn't anticipated this, had operated under the assumption that Chuck's dad was of the normal dead-beat variety, not the government-created one. "Whoever you think I am," she finally says over the rush of the wind, "I promise it's not what you think."

Steve stares at the passing scenery for a moment before asking, "Does Charles know?"

"Yes."

He shifts uncomfortably in the seat. "Maybe you should take me back."

"What? Why?" she asks, almost in a panic at the thought of getting so close and having the opportunity slip from her fingers.

"I'm just . . . I'm not sure this is going to work, that's all."

Sarah looks over at him. "Is this about Chuck? If it is, Steve, Mr. Bartowski, I promise you, keeping him safe is the only thing I care about." She frowns as she struggles to get across her feelings for Chuck.

To her surprise, Steve chuckles. "You remind me of my wife."

"Really?" she asks softly, a shy smile on her lips.

He nods, "Yeah." Soberly, he adds, "She worked for them, too. I was an engineer for them, built a computer. That's how we met." He sighs. "I know I don't look like much, but I'm not as bad a father as I seem."

"I know Chuck admires you."

"I hope he doesn't blame me for leaving. I had my reasons."

"I'm sure you did."

He looks over at her. "You're not going to ask me what they were?"

"Would you tell me?" she asks, not taking her eyes from the road.

He smiles nostalgically, saying, "You know what it's like, how dangerous it is to work for them."

Sarah tightens her lips. "Your wife," she prompts gently.

With a nod, Steve continues, "We tried to keep the kids safe, but it's hard to raise a family when you have a duty to your country."

Sarah tightens her grip on the wheel. She doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to hear a story of failure, especially not one that started out remarkably similar to her own. She doesn't want him to draw the parallels; she can do that for herself. She doesn't want the reminders of how hard a normal life is going to be.

"You're wearing her bracelet."

It's a whisper she barely catches over the roar of the road.

"Chuck gave it to me for Christmas a few years ago," she tells him quietly, sneaking a glance at him.

He's quiet, regarding the bracelet thoughtfully. After a moment, he smiles and says, "Well, I guess I should get to the know the woman my son's in love with."

Sarah sits up in bed, shifting under the covers as Chuck walks into the room.

"How'd it go?" she asks softly.

Chuck had been speechless for almost two minutes when she had brought his father home, and, to give them time as a family, she had respectfully declined to go out with them and Ellie for dinner.

He smiles as he changes into some pajama pants. "Really well," he says. "Ellie was surprised, but I think she's happy to have him back. We've still got a lot of catching up to do."

She smiles, beckons him over to the bed. "I'm glad."

He crawls on top of the covers, wrapping an arm around her waist and burying his face in her shoulder. "Mmm," he groans, "you smell nice."

Chuckling, she runs a hand through his hair. "Thank you. Where's your dad?"

"Staying with Ellie and Awesome," he responds tiredly. "We figured it was better, seeing as it's so close to the wedding and all."

Sarah nods and breathes deeply.

He pulls away and looks up at her. "That okay?"

"Mmm-hmm, of course," she says.

Chuck pecks her on the lips. "Good." He yawns. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

She lies down and scootches over to give him room under the covers. He spoons up against her, softly nuzzling her neck. She reaches a hand behind her and threads her fingers into his hair, the curls soft and wispy against her fingertips.

"I still can't believe you found him," he breathes.

Sarah sighs, a smile on her face. "I did it for you. I knew you wanted him there for Ellie's wedding, and I wanted to make you happy."

He places a kiss on the back of her neck and says softly in her ear, "You do realize that you're the only thing I need to be happy, right?"

Chuckling quietly, she says, "Even so, you deserve to have your family back together, and I just want to do all I can for you."

"Thank you," he says softly.

She snuggles into him, comforted by his presence, and drifts off to sleep in his arms.

When Casey drops them off at their apartment after the mission, Sarah lets Chuck hop out of the suburban first. He stops on the curb when he realizes she isn't following and walks over to the window.

"I'll just be a minute," she says, rolling down the window. "Casey and I need to talk."

Chuck nods, places a kiss on her forehead, and quietly responds, "Okay. Sure."

"I'll be up in a few minutes," she says to his retreating form. He looks back and gives her a wave, and she keeps her eyes trained on him as he rounds the corner into the courtyard and disappears.

"So we'll go after the girlfriend tomorrow," Casey tells her.

"And Chuck?"

"We should be able to handle it. He deserves a day off." Casey glances over. "I assume this isn't what you wanted to talk about?"

Nibbling her lower lip, she shakes her head. "It's about the wedding." He doesn't respond, which she takes as a sign to continue, so she says, "I don't really have a lot of family left, but you've been the best damn partner I've ever had."

His lips twitch into the hint of a smile. "Your point?"

"I want you to walk me down the aisle."

Casey leans back in his seat with a sigh. "You know what you're getting into, right?"

She swallows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this isn't a mission, it hasn't been for a long time now. When the time comes that he's no longer useful, you won't be able to just pick up and leave like it's another assignment." He pauses, glancing over at her. "This is forever, Sarah."

For some reason, hearing the words aloud jars her. It's not like she hadn't thought about it, not like she hasn't prepared herself. She's been in the agency for almost fifteen years now, long enough to know that, for spies, marriage is basically early retirement. And she knows how tough trying to juggle family and a career is going to be, knows how numerous and dear the sacrifices will be. Staring out the windshield, she nods. "I know that."

Casey shakes his head, a twinkle in his eye. "Bartowski's already blackmailed me into being in the wedding party. Now I have to pull double duty and walk you down the aisle?"

Chuckling, she responds, "You know you want to."

"I do," he responds, surprisingly candid. "In fact, I'd be honored." He clears his throat, and she decides to leave it at that.

"Thank you," Sarah says quietly before bidding him goodnight and returning to the apartment. Chuck's on the couch, already fused to his Xbox. She sneaks by him to the hallway and ducks into the bathroom for a shower. The door creaks open as she's shampooing, and she freezes.

"Chuck?" she calls before poking her head around the curtain to see him sitting on the tank of the toilet, his sneakers up on the closed lid, his chin resting on his folded hands. She narrows her eyebrows. "Chuck, what's wrong?"

He looks up, a frown on his face. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"We've been together for three years now, Sarah, and I've known you for five. I know when something's wrong, and I know when something's . . . off in our relationship." He sets his jaw. "And I'm not leaving this bathroom until we talk about it."

She sighs, the water spluttering over her lips. "Chuck . . . it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" he demands softly as he stands up. "You can talk to me, Sarah. Isn't that what this is about? Isn't that how relationships are supposed to work?"

Dipping back into the shower, she rinses off the shampoo in her hair. She reaches a hand out. "Hand me a towel?" Chuck complies, but she can hear him huff in frustration as he does so. She dries off hurriedly before wrapping the towel around herself and stepping out of the shower.

"Listen to me, Chuck," she says, her hand on his chin. "This is nothing to do with you. The wedding is really close, Ellie's going crazy with the planning, and I just have a lot on my mind. That's all."

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as he lets it out. He leans his forehead against hers. "You promise?" he asks with a slight smile.

Lifting a hand to his neck, she smiles. "I promise."

"And you'd talk to me if it were anything else?"

"Of course."

Satisfied, he seals the promise with a kiss.

Sarah, Ellie, and Chuck sit on the living room floor, surrounded by laptops, CDs, iPods, even Chuck's old boom box. As the matron of honor, Ellie's been taking her duties very seriously. She had practically freaked when she realized that the engaged couple hadn't chosen a wedding song only six days before the big day, and Sarah had come home to find the siblings already deep into their music collections.

And now she's doing her best to contribute, even though Chuck's music collection is so vast it's intimidating and though she doesn't actually have that much of an opinion one way or another. She's just scared of letting Ellie know that.

"Okay," Ellie says as she clicks on a new song, "how about . . . "At Last" by Etta James?"

The song comes through the speakers of Ellie's laptop. Sarah's never heard it before, but she can easily believe that it came from one of the CD compilations Ellie and her future mother-in-law had combed through while planning the Woodcomb wedding.

"I don't know, Ellie," Chuck says, leaning his head against the couch. "We're not really a traditional sort of couple."

Sarah chuckles lightly as she thinks of how true his words are. Her thoughts take a dark turn, and the chuckle dies from her lips. She's never pretended to be normal for him; it's never seemed to matter. They are who they are – spies, friends, lovers. They've been figuring out as they go, and it's worked for them.

But what if he wants more?

What if he wakes up, a year or two from now, and realizes she can't offer him the normalcy he craves? She's been living with this secret fear ever since they began dating, the fear that he'd suddenly see nothing but her past. She's so much more now, and all because of him.

She just hopes he can see all that.

Sarah is pulled out of the quagmire of her thoughts by Chuck's voice, a light in the darkness.

"Okay, I think I've got one," he says as he fiddles with his iPod.

Sarah stares at the leg of the coffee table as she listens to the beginning of the song.

The perfect words never crossed my mind,

'Cause there was nothing in there but you.

I felt every ounce of me screaming out,

But the sound was trapped deep in me.

All I've wanted just sped right past me,

But I was rooted fast to the Earth.

I could be stuck here for a thousand years

Without your arms to drag me out.

Sarah smiles as she listens, because it describes them perfectly. As the chorus kicks in, she looks up at her fiancé, sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table, his legs stretched out so that his feet rest beside her knees. He's smiling, his eyes shining with affection.

"That's it," she says quietly.

Chuck looks surprised. "You like it?"

"Absolutely."

"Great," he grins. "'Signal Fire' it is then."

Ellie laughs, drawing their attention.

"What?" her brother asks curiously.

She shakes her head. "I just think it's funny how you spend two hours looking for the perfect song and then choose one in two minutes. And actually agree on it."

Chuckling, Sarah shrugs. "I guess we know what we like."

"That you do," Ellie agrees, writing down the artist and song name. "It's a little unconventional, but I have to say, it suits you two."

Chuck tips his head to his sister. "Thank you."

"And thanks for all your help," Sarah tells her. "I don't think we would have gotten this done without you."

Ellie dismisses their thanks with a wave. "Oh, it was nothing. Anything for you two."

Chuck smirks. "You wanted to get out of the house, didn't you?" he accuses playfully. "Is Ian keeping you up at night?"

Ellie reddens slightly at her brother's teasing. Ian is the Woodcombs' five-month-old, a bubbly little boy who's as adorable as his doting parents.

"Actually," she says with a smile, "he's been a lot better the past couple weeks. But I can't deny that it feels nice to get some personal space. Devon gets a little nervous when Ian gets fussy, so I'm trying to give him some practice, let him get more confident."

"Well, we're always available to baby-sit, whenever you need us," Sarah offers.

"Thank you, but with Dad back, Devon and I have a bit more time together. And Dad's surprisingly good with Ian."

"Well," Chuck laughs, "they do share genes."

"Oh, speaking of Dad, I think he was going to make pancakes tonight. I thought you may want to come over. It'd be just the family."

Chuck looks over at Sarah, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

She sighs. "Actually, would you mind if we took a rain check?" she asks Ellie, offering her an apologetic look. "We haven't had much time together lately, so I thought we could just stay in for the night."

"Sure," Ellie responds amiably, "don't worry about it. Believe me, I know how it can be."

Ellie bids them goodnight and takes her iPod and laptop, leaving the apartment far quieter than it's been the past few hours. Sarah shows her soon-to-be sister-in-law out, giving her a warm hug, and returns to the living room to find Chuck stretched out on the couch. She grins and climbs onto the couch, hovering over him. Laughing throatily, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her down for a kiss.

When he breaks away, he asks, "So you just want to chill tonight?"

"Yeah," she replies, "I thought we could relax if that's okay with you. Rent a movie, order some Chinese."

He narrows his eyes. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why all the sudden desire to slow down our normally insane schedules?"

She reaches up to cup his face, her thumb caressing his cheek gently. "Things have been crazy around here lately. I just want to make sure you know how much I care about you."

Chuck, an indecipherable look in his eye, gives her a lopsided smile, and for a moment Sarah thinks he's going to make a smart-ass remark about how their wedding at the end of the week should remind him of that. But he just grabs his cell phone off the coffee table and says, "I'll call for take-out. Number eight, right?"

She nods. "What kind of movie are you in the mood for?"

"Mmm . . . I think it's your turn to pick."

Sarah nibbles her bottom lip contemplatively. "How about Episode II?"

He chuckles, and she smiles as his thumb traces circles over her lower back. "If you're going to choose a Star Wars movie," he says, "you gotta go with Empire. You only like Clones because you think Anakin's cute."

Sitting up, her palms resting against his abdomen, she smirks. "So what if I do? You jealous?"

"Jealous of Hayden Christensen? Well . . . he does get married to Natalie Portman," he teases, and Sarah smacks him lightly on the shoulder. Laughing, he pulls her down so their foreheads meet. "But how can I think about that when all I need is right here?"

Sarah grins, sliding her hands up his chest and capturing his lips with her own. As nervous as she is over this wedding, it's moments like this that always calm her down.

Sarah had expressly told Ellie she didn't want a bachelorette party, so when she, Anna, and Jane show up at the apartment at nine in the morning two days before the wedding, Sarah's not sure what to make of it.

"Relax," Ellie smiles, "this is going to be fun. Trust me."

Sarah looks to her sister, who had flown in with her family from Oregon the day before, for confirmation.

Jane takes a seat next to her and rubs her back gently. "You don't have a thing to worry about, sis," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "We're gonna take good care of you."

Sarah shakes her head, on the verge of agreeing to whatever her friends have in store, and the four women look up as Chuck walks into the kitchen, his bed-hair still sticking out at funny angles. He stops in the doorway, in the midst of rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"What's going on?" he mumbles.

Sarah smiles and takes a sip of her coffee. "They're taking me out for a day of debauchery."

He chuckles. "Try not to get in too much trouble, okay?"

She nods as he stumbles around the room to greet each woman with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Chuck," Jane says amiably as he offers her a kiss. "Nice to see you again."

"You, too," Chuck replies, his voice still sleepy. He slides over to Sarah, wraps his arms around her shoulders, and places a soft kiss on the back of her head. "Morning, hon."

Sarah folds her arms over his and breathes deeply, her eyes flicking shut as she breathes in his scent. "Good morning. What you up to today?"

"Well, now that you're leaving me all alone, maybe I'll call up Morgan. We haven't played Call of Duty in a while."

"Wow," she laughs, "you've got a whole day to do whatever you want, and that's what you choose?"

He lets out a low, rumbly laugh into her hair. "What can I say? I'm low maintenance."

Half-an-hour later, she bids her fiancé goodbye and allow Ellie, Jane, and Anna to dictate her day. They take her to an indoor rock climbing facility, which is a lot more fun and a lot less 'bachelorette party' than anything she had expected. Ellie's been climbing before, with Awesome, but she clearly takes delight in spending time with her friends, and the four very different women get along well. Even Anna, who's never been climbing, energetically scrambles up to the top of the wall with a cheerful laugh.

By late morning, the four women are sweaty and exhausted. After agreeing to meet for lunch in an hour, they split up to shower and clean up – Anna and Ellie going back to their respective houses, Jane and Sarah returning to the latter's apartment.

Sarah slides into the driver's side and rests her head against the back of the seat. She basks in the silence for a few minutes, rolling the window down and letting the cool air wash over her. As they pull out onto the freeway, she turns the radio volume down and asks softly, "Can I talk to you about something?"

Jane nods. "Shoot."

Sarah frowns, nibbling at her lower lip. She takes a deep breath and asks, "Are you happy with Ben?"

"Of course I am," Jane answers automatically. When Sarah doesn't answer, she looks over, a concerned look in her eye, her smile fading. "Is everything okay?"

Sarah keeps her eyes trained on the road and the traffic in front of her.

Jane reaches out a hand and rests it on her sister's forearm. "Come on, Sarah. What's this about? You can talk to me."

Running a hand through her hair, Sarah lets out a sigh as she comes to a light and coasts the car to a stop. "I love Chuck. I do," she tells her in a firm, soft voice. She shakes her head slightly. "But I've never been so nervous in my life."

"About the wedding?"

"It's not just that. It's . . . everything." Frustrated at not being able to express herself well enough, she hits the steering wheel with the heel of her hand.

Jane leans over, rubbing her shoulder gently. "Relax, Sarah. What's this about?"

Sarah finally glances over at her sister, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You had to give it all up for them, for Ben and Danielle. I don't know if I can do that. I mean, I know Chuck would never ask." She turns her eyes back to the road when the light turns green, and her voice is shaky as she continues, "But what if, five years from now, we've got kids and a mortgage, and we suddenly realize that it isn't working, that something has to give? What happens when everything comes crashing down because we didn't have the foresight to prioritize? Because we didn't want to choose between our family and our careers?"

Taking a deep breath, Jane continues to massage her sister's shoulders. "Hey, hey, hey, now," she says soothingly. "Calm down, all right?"

Sarah focuses on slowing her breathing but continues to drive, somehow finding comfort in the mindless motions. "Yeah, okay. It's just . . . this has been on my mind for a few days, and I don't really have anyone to talk to about this particular thing."

"I know, sweetie, but . . ."

Jane pauses, just long enough for Sarah's stomach to drop apprehensively.

Sarah looks over. "What? What is it?"

Frowning, Jane turns her gaze toward the cars in front of them. She hesitates for a moment before quietly replying, "Have you tried talking to Chuck?"

Sarah leans her elbow on the open window and rests her forehead against her hand. "I can't, Jane."

"You can marry him but you can't talk to him?"

"Not about this."

"Why not?"

"Because he's Chuck," she sighs, exasperated. "He'll agree to anything if he thinks it'll make me happy . . ."

Jane lets a small smirk onto her face. "And what exactly is wrong with that?"

Sarah hesitates, her gaze trained on the bumper of the car in front of her. "Do you know what he's giving up for me?" Jane doesn't answer, so she swallows thickly and answers her own question. "He's giving up the last shot he has at a normal life. That's all he's wanted since this began. How can I let him do that when I won't even give up my job for him?"

"Sarah," Jane says softly, "you can't judge yourself like that. Think about it. I was never like you or Mom. Quitting would never affect me like it would affect you. Just because I made that choice doesn't mean it'd be the right one for you. And Chuck, well . . ." She shrugs, choosing her words. "I know how much you two love each other, but I also know how different you are. You've got different ways of showing how you feel, so is it really fair for you to judge yourself by his standards?"

"Jane," Sarah begins, pursing her lips, "I don't want to screw this up."

Her sister smiles. "And that's exactly why you two will be absolutely fine."

When they reach the apartment, they don't find Chuck and Morgan playing Xbox and eating pizza, like they had expected. Instead, Chuck, Morgan, Awesome, Ben, and Danielle are all relaxing on the living room couch. The room is alive with laughter.

Chuck is entertaining Danielle, bouncing the three-year-old on his knee like a practiced father. Sarah's heart swells with longing at the sight.

"Hey, everyone," Jane greets with a smile. "What's going on?"

"We felt a little left out," Morgan explains with a mocking tilt of his head, "so we decided to have a party of our own."

Sarah laughs. "Well, sorry we interrupted. We just need to clean up a bit before heading back out."

Chuck's face falls at that news, but he stays silent. As she readies for lunch, the image of Chuck and Danielle stays in her mind, and suddenly she's not so nervous.

Sarah curls up on the bed, pulling the covers tighter around her body. It's a warm night, but, feeling Chuck's absence acutely, she's strangely cold. The knowledge that Ellie is just down the hallway in the spare bedroom is reassuring, but in the way Star Trek III is decent viewing only if you've acknowledge that Star Trek II is vastly superior. She had insisted on staying, both to more easily fulfill her matron-of-honor duties in the morning and to keep Sarah company during the lonely evening, and Sarah had welcomed the visit. Jane and Anna had been over earlier as well, but both had gone back to their respective significant others.

And now it's nearly eleven o'clock at night, Ellie's sleeping, and the only thing Sarah can think of is the man who isn't beside her.

She turns her mind instead to the early stages of their relationship, when he had pushed and prodded to get closer to her and she had resisted at every turn, when he had refused to give up until she acknowledged their thing beneath the undercover thing. A small smile creeps onto her face as she recalls the time he had taken care of her when she was sick. On a whim, she climbs out of bed and pops their copy of Wall-E into the DVD player, trying to recapture that feeling of warmth she unconsciously associates with Chuck.

When the DVD menu pops up, Sarah drops the remote and picks up her cell phone instead.

He answers after the second ring.

"Sarah," he greets happily. "Everything all right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because it's the night before our wedding, and we're not supposed to talk to each other."

She chuckles. "We're not supposed to see each other on the day of. There's nothing against talking, though . . . at least I don't think there is."

"Maybe someone should explain the rules to us better," he laughs lightly. "So what's up? Did you just miss me too much?"

Sighing, she leans back against the headboard and says, "Actually, yeah. I'm even watching Wall-E."

He chuckles softly. "Because they're us."

"Mmm-hmm." She smiles at the memory.

"Well, hey," he begins, and she can hear muffled noises in the background. "Give me a minute." He hums a bit as he continues doing something on his end of the phone. "Oh! Found it!"

"Found what?"

"Ellie's got a copy. Why don't we watch it together?"

Laughing quietly, she asks, "Watch it separately but together?"

"Yeah, why not? I miss you."

"All right, then," she agrees. "Let's watch some Wall-E."

And even though they've watched this movie at least a dozen times in the past three or four years, tonight's viewing feels different, more meaningful. Chuck stays on the phone with her for the entirety of the film, their conversation ebbing and flowing.

But even in the silences, knowing he's there is enough.

Her feet pound steadily over the pavement, beat out the rhythm of the music flowing through her ear buds. She's been jogging for over forty-five minutes now, watching the sun come up and the city come alive. Her t-shirt's drenched in sweat from the early morning heat.

She had thought a run would calm her nerves, but the more time she has to think, the more nervous she gets.

This is her wedding day, a day she thought she'd never get to experience, least of all to a man as special as Chuck.

But here it is, and she feels like she's lost each and every calm and collected bone in her body. After three years of comfort and security, she feels like she's suddenly standing on a precipice, her toes hanging off the edge as she struggles to wrap her mind around the uncertain leap she's about to take.

As an agent, she's faced uncertainty before, all the time really. But this time it's so much different. This time it isn't her life on the line, it's her heart.

Sarah focuses on her breathing – in through her nose, out through her mouth – to get her mind off her nerves. This is normal, right? This has to be normal. Every bride has doubts the morning of.

Of course, she reassures herself as she rounds the corner of her street. Of course.

She slows as she nears the apartment building. Ellie's standing on the curb, pacing restlessly, her arms crossed over her chest. She catches sight of Sarah and rushes toward her, awash with anxiety.

"Sarah!" Ellie says, exasperated. "You do remember that you're getting married in seven hours, right?"

Sarah, grimacing with her labored breaths, wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist. "I didn't realize how long I've been running," she apologizes. "Sorry, Ellie."

Ellie takes her by the shoulders and looks her straight in the eye. "Sarah, look at me. Is everything all right? You can talk to me."

Breathing deeply, Sarah smiles at her soon-to-be sister-in-law. She can barely define her fears to herself. How could she possibly explain them to Ellie?

"Thanks, Ellie, but I think . . . I think I'm okay. Nervous, but okay."

Ellie, visibly relieved, nods and says, "Good. Now let's go get you dressed!"

She pulls her back into the apartment to get ready, and Sarah finds strength in her friend's happiness and support.

Late morning sunlight filters in through the window, illuminates the bedroom. Sarah, in a strapless, champagne-colored wedding gown; and Ellie, in her dark brown bridesmaid dress, stand near the full-sized mirror in the corner. Sarah, wearing a tentative smile, smoothes the folds of her dress and studies her reflection. An expert gaze centered on the bride, Ellie fixes her bangs.

"You look gorgeous," Ellie smiles.

"Thank you," Sarah replies softly. She nibbles her bottom lip, a question on the tip of her tongue. Looking up at Ellie, she asks, "Do you think Chuck will like it?"

"Absolutely," Ellie breathes, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. She checks the clock on the dresser and asks, "Are you ready?"

Taking a deep breath and drying her palms on her dress, Sarah nods. She holds up her wrist to show Ellie the bracelet Chuck had given him, their mother's bracelet. "Something old," she announces.

Ellie smiles. "And something new?"

Sarah fingers her necklace, a silver chain and charm, the initials S and C intertwined. "This. Chuck gave it to me a few days ago."

"That's sweet."

"Yeah. And something borrowed." Sarah lifts the skirt of her dress to reveal her garter. "Thank you for that."

"No problem."

"And finally, something blue," she says, pointing to the opposite corner of the room, where a pair of baby blue, low-top Converse All-stars sit.

Ellie lets out a soft laugh and rolls her eyes. "You really do belong with my brother."

Sarah swallows thickly, feeling as if her heart catches in her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut as her stomach drops.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asks, concern in her eyes.

Sarah looks at her sheepishly. "Ellie . . ."

"What? What is it?"

"I need to talk to your brother."

Ellie puts a hand to her heart and sighs in relief. "Is that all? For a second there, I thought you were going to call off the wedding!" She laughs as if the thought really hadn't crossed her mind.

Within three minutes they have a plan cooked up, and, a half-hour later, Sarah's waiting in a limo in the back of the Woodcomb apartment. She stares at her Converses, fidgets with her engagement ring as she waits for Chuck.

Her breath leaves her lungs as she catches sight of him rounding the corner, followed closely by Awesome, Morgan, Casey, and Mr. Bartowski. His tux is a perfect fit, the material just taut enough to show off his lean form, the black and white scheme faultlessly matching his brand-new Chuck Taylors. He opens back door of the limo and stops short when he sees her.

"Arg," he shouts, throwing his hands up in front of his face. "Sarah, what are you doing? I can't see you right now!"

Amidst the confusion, Awesome pokes his head in, his mouth contorted in confusion. "Sarah? What's going on?"

"I need to talk to Chuck," she says decisively. "I don't care about tradition."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to see him for a few minutes." When he doesn't look convinced, she adds, "Ellie called you and explained everything. Check your messages."

He pats his jacket pockets and locates his cell. "Okay. I'll let him know."

Awesome shuts the door, and she watches through the window as he converses with Chuck. A minute later, the four groomsmen head towards Casey's suburban, and Chuck slides into the back seat next to her.

He keeps his eyes trained on his feet.

Sarah smirks. "You can look at me, you know."

"What about the rules?"

"When have we met a rule we haven't bent?"

Chuck looks up, a lopsided grin on his face. "You look gorgeous," he says quickly.

Impulsively, she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a soft kiss.

"But what's really going on?" he asks quietly, his eyes tinged with unease.

"Remember when you said I could talk to you about anything?" He nods. "Well," she sighs, "I need to talk."

He lifts his brows. "Now? You need to talk an hour before we supposed to get married?"

Swallowing, she nods. "Yeah, Chuck, I have some things I need to say to you."

Chuck, taking a deep breath, rests against the seat and looks intently at her. "Okay," he says, "I'm listening."

Sarah's mouth is suddenly dry, her pulse suddenly racing. After a false start or two, she manages to choke out, "I love you, Chuck. I have no doubt about that. But I won't lie, the wedding has made me think a lot, about how difficult this is going to be, about how hard we're going to have to fight to make this work."

She sighs, unhappy with the way it came out, but feeling unable to clarify it further. Chuck is silent a moment, waiting to see if she's finished. She looks up to nervously meet his eyes.

"Sarah . . ." he begins, rubbing his temple. "I know my spy skills aren't as good as yours, but I like to think that I've learned a few things ever since you came into my life. So believe me, I know how difficult it is for you to trust people, Sarah, for you to believe in their good intentions. But the fact of the matter is that for every step I took into your world, you took one step into mine. And that means that I get to care for you. I think I've earned that right after all these years, don't you?

"But I can't do that unless you let me, unless you trust me."

Sarah waits, trying to calm her overwhelming emotions.

He takes her hand in his and continues, "In an hour, I'm going to be your husband, and I swear to you with every fiber of my being. I will take care of you, to the best of my ability." He smiles crookedly. "But you have to give me some room here. . . . I know you're scared. I'm scared, too. I'm terrified out of my mind right now. Everything's changing so fast, but I know we're going to be okay. More than okay. Because you're going to be right by my side the entire time."

Chuck leans into her, wraps his arms gently around her waist. "You've given me so much over the past five years. I'm asking you to let me do the same for you."

She sniffles, wiping a tear from her cheek. He's been taking care of her for so long, even though he's been as scared as she has. Isn't it her turn to take care of him?

She's been laboring under the delusion that her job has allowed her to fight for the greater good, a noble cause. It's not until this moment, looking into Chuck's deep brown eyes, that she realizes just where true nobility lies.

In love.

She slides a palm along his neck, pulls him down to her. "You know you're always number one, right?" she says. "You never have to worry about that."

"I know," he reassures her as he kisses the tear away. "We'll do this together, Sarah."

She presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers, "I love you."

Chuck pulls away slightly to look down into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Always."

Sarah Walker Bartowski, resplendent in her wedding gown, stands on the shore and lets the waves wash over her bare feet. Chuck's hand is a calm, familiar weight in her own. Her new husband's form is framed against the setting sun, his jacket off, his bowtie loose, his shirt partially unbuttoned. She'll remember this image of him forever, but what she'll remember most is the smile on his face. She can only describe it as incandescently happy, and she's certain her own smile is just as effusive.

She throws a glance over her shoulder at the reception tent, lit up in the growing twilight by strings of star lights. The sound of laughter mingled with conversation and music drifts over, and Sarah can hear Morgan's voice carrying above the rest of the din as he calls for Jeffster to play "Don't Stop Believing."

Chuckling softly, Sarah returns her attentions to Chuck. She runs a hand down his chest, fiddling lightly with his shirt collar before tugging on his hand and pulling him along the shore in the opposite direction.

"Shouldn't we get back to our guests?" he asks reluctantly.

She shrugs, pulls him closer. "They'll survive for another few minutes."

The sand squishes between her toes as they walk contentedly down the shoreline. She's never felt so lucky, so alive, and life has never felt so perfect. Well-aware that the life she's grown into is more than she deserves, she makes herself a promise, a promise to do her best to keep it.

The sounds of childish laughter reaches their ears, and Sarah looks back to see Danielle being chased into the waves by her father.

"Chuck . . ." she ventures softly.

"Yeah?"

Sarah's lips twist into a smile as she watches her niece. "I want kids. Lots."

Stroking her cheek, he chuckles in agreement. "How many is 'lots'?"

"Mmm . . ." she murmurs, "I'm thinking half a dozen. At least."

"Oh, of course," he agrees with a grin. A sly gleam in his eye, he says, "If we're going to have that many, don't you think we should get started?"

She holds his gaze for a brief moment before bursting out in a laugh.

And Sarah Walker Bartowski, standing barefoot at the edge of the ocean, kisses her husband as the golden rays of the setting sun wash over them like a blessing.