Sarah vs. 18 months and 12 days

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or any intellectual property related to the Chuckverse.

A/N: Takes place after Beefcake and before Lethal Weapon.

Eighteen months and twelve days. Has it really been that long?

Normally I try not to think about it but the combination of Cole's kiss and Chuck's warmth at my back is making it impossible for me to not think about how long it's been since I've had sex. I sigh in pure irritation and turn over for the millionth time, careful to keep my eyes shut to maintain the pretense of fitful sleep.

There are so many more pressing issues facing the team than my personal record of abstinence; Fulcrum and their Intersect, Cole's capture, and the delicate state of my new cover and cohabitation with Chuck, just to name a few. But all of those national security arguments are smothered by the pounding ache coursing through my body. If nothing else, Cole was right about one thing…I've been neglecting my own needs for far too long.

Chuck's hand flutters in his sleep and the tips of his fingers tickle against my wrist. I bite the pillow to prevent a moan from escaping my lips at the unexpected contact. This is beyond pathetic. If I can't get my head back in order I'm likely to swallow this down pillow and spend tomorrow spewing feathers or worse, I'm going to end up ravishing my asset. My imagination latches onto the later scenario and my teeth sink more violently into the fabric beneath my face.

I'm losing it. I'm so damn tired and frustrated that I'm seriously considering fleeing to the bathroom to cry out the stress because there's no other outlets left for me. Even the option of 'taking charge of the situation myself' is not viable. Chuck's fingers slowly lace into mine and I snort a quiet laugh at his unwitting comedic timing. It's almost like his unconscious body is working with my devious imagination to depose my sanity.

I roll onto my side and attempt to pull my hand away, but apparently a sleeping Chuck is bolder than his conscious counterpart because his grip remains firm. I open my eyes when our entwined digits come to a rest against my stomach and my breath hitches.

Chuck is watching me with a curious expression on his face, his eyes sharp and focused which prompts me to ask, "How long have you been awake?"

"I never fell asleep."

My lips curve up reflexively, "You were faking it?"

His answering grin is tempered with sadness and underscored by a silent shrug. The back of his knuckles are grazing a delicate sliver of exposed skin on my abdomen and the muscles beneath contract sharply as a heavy breath escapes me.

"Sorry." He mutters the word, but he doesn't remove his hand. It takes me a moment to realize that I've got him in a vise-like grip, denying him any kind of retreat. I loosen my hold and Chuck draws our hands up to chest level, resting comfortably in the center of the small gap between us.

"Sarah?" He sighs and wrinkles his nose adorably, "Sarah, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The lie is past my lips before I've even had time to blink away the tears his concern has provoked.

"Don't." There's the barest hint of anger coloring his tone, "I'm not asking you to give me the CIA agent trained response, I'm asking you…you…as a person, Sarah, are you okay?"

It's my turn to sigh and reply with ire, "Chuck, I'm trained to deal with these types of situations, I'm fine. Frankly, I'm more concerned about how you're dealing with all of this?" Deflection is a spy's best friend…well next to diversion and a well-balanced knife.

For some reason, Chuck finds my comment funny but it's a dark amusement. The tendons in his neck are rigid and tight, like piano wire, "Sarah, I overheard your conversation with Cole before he left," he pauses and I know instantly that he got both the audio and visual of that exchange. Before I can lay into him for spying on me, he lifts a finger to my lips, "Shhh…I'm sorry for the invading your privacy, but I'm not sorry I did it."

That confuses me, but his eyes look so sorrowful and penitent that I find my anger ebbing and my guilt rising proportionately. It's taking a lot of concentration for me to not kiss the two fingers he's got pressed to my mouth. As if sensing my conflict, Chuck trails those fingers up the slope of my cheek, tucking away a stray hair and letting his hand come to rest just below my ear with his thumb lightly caressing my cheek. A tremble travels up my spine and it may just carry all the way to my lips because his name sounds unsteady when I speak it, "Chuck?"

He moistens his lips, clearly deliberating his best choice of words and the warm knot in my stomach twists with uncertainty. "Ever since I got the Intersect, I've been doing my best to just survive this crazy espionage world in the hope that one day I'd get my old life back. I've cowered and complained and on occasion, saved the world." We smile at each other and I reach out to touch his chest, feeling his heart pound against my palm. "And through it all, you've been my touchstone Sarah…you've kept me sane. Even when you drive me crazy or confuse me," his free hand covers mine over his heart, "I know you're doing it to keep me safe. But on days like today, I realize just how selfish I've been. I look at the sacrifices you've had to make, both personally and professionally, and I can't help but wonder if…"

"Chuck, I've never worked on any mission as complicated or rewarding as this one. What our team has done for the security of our nation and the world is nothing short of phenomenal."

"I know. But I also know that you're working two jobs and maintaining a cover with me while trying to keep a professional distance. And now we're in a 24-7 security lock-down with no breathing room, no personal space. So don't tell me that you're fine." The air between us is thick, like smoke, but I can't bring myself to pull away from the flame. Especially when it crackles and whispers with warm promises, "Sarah, for once, I'm not going to make this about me and I won't let you do it either." He props himself up on one elbow and although my agent training is screaming at me to regain the high ground, I love the way he's looking down on me right now. "You have to keep yourself so guarded and now with this arrangement, you're not even going to have your own space to retreat to when you need to decompress and just be Sarah."

There's no condescension to his concern, it's simple and honest…two things which my life is horribly lacking. "You're an incredible agent Sarah, but I know there's more to you than just the job. So when you need a moment to NOT be agent Walker, I want you to tell me." Chuck smiles deviously, "I'll go bug Casey for a few hours and make him play video games while we debate the best way to eat an Oreo."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up inside me at that image and suddenly all the tension that's been ripping me apart quells to a tolerable level. I should tell him that I don't need that alone time, because it's my job to protect him, not the other way around. But his offer is too considerate and genuine. I leave the clinical detachment of Agent Walker behind and allow myself a real moment of gratitude and affection, "Thank you, Chuck."

I can tell by the slow progress of his smile that he was expecting me to fight him on this topic. A year ago, I probably would have. I've given more of myself to this assignment than I ever thought possible, but what I never expected, was how much I'd get in return. Chuck's world has forced me to find myself amidst the years of lies and cons. I don't like everything I see, but I take comfort in the realization that after all I've done, there's still something left of the real me. The fact that Chuck is taking steps to protect and preserve 'Sarah' is both dangerous and incredibly endearing. Impulsively, I lean over and give him a soft kiss…it's not quite a peck and just a shade more than friendly.

Chuck is beaming as I slowly pull back, "Well you're welcome. Apparently, I should offer to leave you alone more often."

"Not too often." I settle my head down on his shoulder and I let myself enjoy the warmth of his presence. My actions are stupid and reckless, but as his arm settles across my lower back in a casual, loose embrace, I feel completely safe. His sigh of contentment matches my smile.

With heavy eyes I watch the clock switch over to 12:00a.m…it's now officially eighteen months and thirteen days. Another day alone, but somehow, today feels more like a step closer to resolution.

Author's Note: I started writing this before Lethal Weapon but I wasn't able to find the time to finish it until today. We only ever see the Chuck side of things (RE: relationships and frustrations) and I wanted to take a moment to explore Sarah's head. Loved it? Hated it? Think the number of days is off? I love to hear from you, so please review if you can. Thanks to all readers!

FYI – I'm working off of the assumption that Sarah didn't sleep with Bryce the two times he came to visit.