Dedication: This chapter, the final in this fic, is dedicated to all of my awesome readers who stuck with me through this crazy journey. It's been a blast sharing this with you, and I wholeheartedly appreciate your support.

A/N: If you'd like to read the next story in the "Full Circle" series, please check out "To Have and to Hold."

Disclaimer: If I owned "Chuck," Chuck and Sarah would spend far too much time wrapped up in each other and far less time going on missions. Needless to say, I don't own "Chuck".

~*~

Full Circle (adv.): Returning to the original place, source, or state after passing through a cycle of developments.

Six Months Later . . .

The late afternoon sun slowly dips below the horizon, its golden rays reflecting off the surface of the rippling sea. An hour earlier, Sarah had returned from Ellie's to find Chuck dressed in khaki shorts and a windbreaker, a mysterious twinkle in his eyes and the car keys in his hand. And even though she had tried to force him to reveal his secret plans, he had proven unrelentless. Now, as the pair walk hand-in-hand along the shore, they recount the day's events as their bare feet push distinct patterns into the soft, wet sand and Sarah tries not to worm the information out of her boyfriend.

"Casey sent us a postcard," Chuck says, enjoying the feel of the water as it washes over his toes.

"Really?" the new Burbank detective replies, her interest piqued. "He actually signed his name?"

"Not exactly," Chuck admits, biting back a grin.

"Well, then how do you know that Casey sent it?" Sarah asks as a particularly high wave washes over her ankles and soaks the bottoms of her jeans. Instinctively, she tightens her grip in Chuck's hand and moves slightly closer to him, causing the computer nerd's skin to break out into goosebumps.

"Because it came from Paris, and on the back it had just one word," he says, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Which was?" she prods, arching a brow.

Chuck's mouth twitches. "SUCKERS," he replies, his tone ringed with amusement.

"Figures," Sarah says, chuckling softly. The two walk on in silence for several more moments, their intertwined fingers warming their hands as the cool ocean continues its rhythmic beat against the shore. Finally, Sarah glances at Chuck and asks in a persuasively lilting tone: "Not even a hint?"

In response, Chuck places thumb and forefinger to his lips, smiling slyly as he makes an exaggerated zipping motion. And even though Sarah notices that his skin is just a little bit paler than usual, and his palms are just a little bit clammier, she lets the information slide with an embellished huff.

Smiling good-naturedly to let him know that he's off the hook (for now), she quickly changes the subject. "So," she says, "how was it at Morgan's?"

"Fine," Chuck replies. "Actually, I think Anna has finally put the proverbial kibosh on his exploits with the Benihana knives. I guess she's sick of the frequent trips to the emergency room."

Snorting softly, Sarah brushes lightly against his arm. "Wasn't it nine times this month alone?" she asks, a humorous glint in her eyes. "That's gotta be expensive."

"Well, that," Chuck replies, smirking, "And I think she was afraid he might cut off an important appendange."

"Wouldn't want that," Sarah replies drily, rolling her eyes. She briefly considers asking about Josh, but quickly changes her mind. After over a year, the partnership had come to an end when Chuck's fraternity brother and business partner had decided to hightail it back to Europe. Apparently, he felt he'd have better luck scoring with women who didn't speak English as a first language. And while he wouldn't admit it, she had a feeling that Chuck was only too glad to sever ties.

"What about Ellie?" Chuck asks, breaking into her ruminations as the pair continue their steady gait up the beach. "How is my big sis? Are you two finally playing nicely?"

Chuckling, Sarah pushes against Chuck's shoulder, causing him to stagger a few steps toward the surf. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she replies flippantly, winking as he pretends astonishment. Even so, his statement causes her to think back to the first time she saw Ellie Woodcomb after her return from London. And along with the memory are the words Ellie spoke to her that day.

"Don't hurt him again, Sarah," the brunette cautioned, her lips forming a firm line. "He's been through enough already."

Her declaration caused a twinge of remorse to echo soundly through Sarah's chest, and her shoulders stiffened with resolve. "I promise, Ellie," she said sincerely. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

Ellie studied her with quiet intensity, her hazel eyes burning into Sarah's earnest blue. Finally, a small smile had spread across her face. "He's missed you," she admitted. "And," she said after a beat, "So have I."

Smiling at the recollection, Sarah squeezes Chuck's hand. "She's doing great," she finally answers. "It's really good to have another woman to spend time with. Although," she says, the memory still fresh within her mind, "I really think the CIA missed out when it didn't recruit your sister. She would have been a pro at interrogation."

"Just don't tell them that," Chuck returns, the hint of a smirk playing along the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn't want General Beckman to get any ideas."

"Duly noted," Sarah says, grinning. After the battery of tests the CIA had put her through a few days after separation to ensure that she absolutely was not a liability (she wasn't), she doesn't want General Beckman to get any ideas either. But she pushes that particular memory from her mind and, after a few more paces across the beach, she cocks her head. "Where are we going?" she asks, the self-same determined expression wafting across her features.

In response, Chuck finally comes to a stop. "Don't you recognize it?" he replies, gesturing toward the softly rolling ocean as it washes over a sandy expanse of land.

Her brow furrowing, Sarah stares blankly out to sea. Finally, a knowing gleam enters her bright blue eyes. "It's where I found you the night after we discovered that you had downloaded the Intersect 1.0," she says slowly.

"It's also where you asked me to trust you for the very first time," Chuck replies, his heart rocketing in his chest. When Sarah turns to him with an affectionate smile, he gulps nervously and drops to his left knee, the ocean waves washing over his bare calves and her hand clutched gently in his grasp. With the other hand, he withdraws a velvet box from his jacket pocket.

"Chuck?" she breathes, her eyes widening.

"Sarah," he says, gazing at her lovingly, "You once told me that I could have anything that I wanted. The only thing I want," he continues, his eyes softening perceptibly, "is you. Sarah Walker, will you do me the honor of putting your trust in me and becoming my wife?" Opening the box, he reveals a white gold band inlaid with half a dozen tiny glittering diamonds.

Sarah presses her lips together, her eyes glistening as she studies the man kneeling before her. "C'mere," she says shakily, quirking her finger.

Chuck's forehead creases in confusion, but he comes to his feet, the box clasped tightly in his hand. As he does so, Sarah reaches her arms around his neck and brushes against his mouth, their lips moving together in a tender, passionate dance. "Yes," she finally says, when she breaks the kiss and looks deeply into his gleaming eyes. "Yes, Chuck. I'll marry you."

A dazzling grin spreads across Chuck's face and he pulls the ring from its box. "Perfect fit," he says, slipping it onto Sarah's eager finger.

"How did you know my ring size?" she asks, examining the ring contentedly.

"Hey, come on," he replies, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "I have learned a few things over the years."

"Hmm," she smiles mischievously, leaning over to nuzzle his ear. "Got time for a few more, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Only the rest of my life, Ms. Walker," Chuck whispers, reveling in the shiver which races down his spine as Sarah's breath tickles his sensitive skin. Pulling her back toward him for another long lingering kiss, he threads his fingers through her golden hair as the surf pools around his feet and the world plunges into a variety of pinks and oranges, the southern California sun finishing its descent behind the rippling sea.

Fin.