Author's Note: This story begins approximately eleven months after the end of "Chuck vs. the Bright Side of Life", and therefore is in the same timeline as not only that story, but also "The Seduction of Sarah Walker" and "The Star-Spangled Intersect".
Sarah started noticing the first signs right at the beginning of March. One afternoon, as she was preparing to participate in the VERY rare mission, she was putting on her custom made Kevlar vest, and realized that it was incredibly uncomfortable. In fact, it really kind of hurt!
The next morning, as she was fastening her bra, she realized that it was very, very tight. Much more so than it should have been. "What the hell is going on?" she muttered.
Dropping the bra, she walked out into the kitchen, topless. "Are my boobs getting bigger?" she asked. No "Good morning," or anything.
Chuck's eyes widened, and he couldn't help it. He literally spit a mouthful of coffee across the table. "Jesus, I don't know," he coughed. "They look fine to me."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Men."
Sarah was finding herself more and more tired – and yet, she was also finding herself incredibly horny every night, and so ended up falling asleep FAR later than she really needed to be.
Not that Chuck was complaining about that. Between that and the fact that he had successfully sold a video game to Electronic Arts, and gotten to subsequently walk into the Buy More and announce very loudly that they could "take this job and shove it," he was a very happy man.
Too bad Sarah was so irritable right now. And why wouldn't she be? Here she was, giving a mission briefing to the team of government agents about to go take down an international drug kingpin – and she didn't get to go along. After years of being a deep-cover operative, here she was, stuck at a desk, going on a mission once in a blue moon.
As she stood at the head of the conference room, giving the briefing, her stomach started to rumble. She stopped talking. Her stomach was doing more than rumbling.
"Uh, if you'll excuse me," she said quickly, and dashed from the room.
She barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Three test kits hadn't been enough to convince her, so Sarah had ended up going to see one of the doctors at Cedars that was in the employ of the CIA. He ran a full battery of tests, which confirmed exactly what the home tests had said.
On May 2nd, Sarah Walker Bartowski received confirmation that she was pregnant. Two months and change, the doctor had told her, projecting that conception had probably happened on or around Valentine's Day.
It was almost clichéd enough to make her sick, but her body was doing a perfectly good job of that all by itself.
That night, she and Chuck went over to have dinner with Ellie and Devin. She got a strange look from the good Captain when she turned down wine with her meal, as he said, "1985 Cabernet Sauvignon? You usually drink this stuff like water, Sarah!"
He got a rather nasty look for that one, and she had to physically restrain herself from kicking him.
When Ellie turned down wine as well, though, Sarah looked over at her. They made eye contact, and at that point, Devin looked at his wife, and then at Sarah. "No way."
Chuck was oblivious. "What?"
"Uh, Chuck, I think there's a good chance our family is about to get a bit more, uh, awesome, even more so than I was already expecting," Devin told his brother-in-law.
Chuck's eyes widened. "What?!"
He looked at his sister. "Ellie? Are you…" Chuck's voice trailed off.
Sarah asked first. "When, Ellie?"
"October 29th," Ellie replied with a smile. "What about you?"
"November 25th," Sarah said, smiling as well.
Chuck's head slowly swiveled around. He stared, wide-eyed, at his wife, as the cylinders all clicked into place. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Sarah thought for a moment that he was having a flash.
But no, he was just passing out.
Sarah went to Cedars for her first ultrasound, and Ellie insisted on accompanying her. Even though Sarah was a month behind Ellie, she was already showing a little bit more than the older woman, which was enough to cause Ellie a little bit of concern.
Ellie had mentioned this to the ultrasound tech, who nodded and duly noted yet another bit of concern from a doctor who insisted on accompanying a friend. The tech pulled latex gloves onto her hands and began rubbing a very, VERY cold gel onto Sarah's stomach.
Ultrasound technology had changed a great deal over the years, and the definition on this ultrasound was unbelievable. It was almost like looking at a video of her interior.
As the tech moved the probe around, she grew a puzzled look on her face. She moved the probe downward, and her face took on a look of understanding.
"There's the cause of your rapid growth," she said, pointing. Ellie looked at the screen, and her jaw dropped.
"What?" Sarah asked, struggling to see. She squinted, trying to see…
…see the not one, but TWO fetuses moving around inside her uterus.
"Twins?!" she gasped.
Chuck, Morgan, and Casey had spent the entire morning moving all of Sarah and Chuck's possessions from both the hotel in downtown Los Angeles and Ellie and Devin's apartment in Echo Park. With twins on the way, the spy and her husband had acknowledged that larger accommodations were going to be needed.
When they had been looking for a house, Chuck had insisted on going to the Valley. "It's safer there," he said.
And so, as they were driving through Studio City, he had seen a house with a "For Sale" sign, and nearly had a heart attack. Turning around, he drove back and pulled into the driveway.
It was nothing special – a ranch house that looked to be about fifty years old, three beds, two baths, according to the sign. It was in pretty good shape, although the lawn needed tending.
Before Sarah could ask anything, Chuck answered her unspoken question.
"This is the house I grew up in," he said.
And three weeks later, it was theirs. Devin and Chuck had painted one of the bedrooms in multiple pastel colors – blue, pink, yellow, green. The largest of the three bedrooms, conveniently attached to the larger of the two bathrooms, became their master bedroom. The third bedroom – well, that became Chuck's Geek Room, as Sarah called it.
"Nerd Cave!" he insisted.
Sarah was mad. Mad as hell, even.
That Monday morning, she had walked out of the house to leave for work – and found herself unable to fit behind the wheel of her Porsche. "What the fuck?!" she snapped. "I fit on Friday!"
Just as she was discovering this, Chuck walked out the kitchen door and into the garage. He saw her difficulty in getting into her Porsche, but very wisely did not say anything except, "Do you want to take my car to work?"
Well, of course, she didn't really have a choice, now did she? And she had to admit, Chuck's car was probably a wiser choice for a woman who was six months pregnant with twins – a Dodge Magnum SRT-8, it was bigger, it was safer, and it had plenty of engine power in the unlikely event that one of her old enemies showed up to torment her.
The worst part was, it was probably the car she was going to end up driving after the kids were born anyway – two carseats would never fit into a Porsche 911.
And so, Chuck had gone gleefully flying off to the offices for Nerd Cave Video Games in Van Nuys in the Porsche, leaving Sarah with the Beast.
As she sat in the driver's seat, she decided she really didn't want to go to work. So, as she pulled out of the driveway, she called the CIA office downtown, and informed them that she was sick. She then aimed the Magnum toward Echo Park.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled up in front of Ellie and Devin's apartment building. As she was crossing the courtyard to their apartment, John Casey stepped out of his, and for some reason decided it would be a good idea to say, "Whoa, wide load coming through!"
Sarah growled, and three seconds later, Casey was on the ground, twitching. "I will END you," she threatened him, reholstering her stun gun.
She walked the last few steps to Ellie's apartment, and rang the doorbell. Ellie answered the door, hair still mussed from being in bed, wearing a bathrobe and no makeup.
"Well, if it isn't my comrade in gestation," Ellie said sleepily. "Good morning, or maybe just morning, since I can't drink coffee anymore."
"Isn't it a bitch," Sarah grumbled, entering the apartment.
Ellie invited Sarah to take a seat in the living room. "So, what brings you here this morning?"
"I can't fit in my Porsche anymore," Sarah complained. "It's not fair. I paid good money – okay, the CIA paid good money for it, and now your brother's out zipping around in it, while I'm driving around in a station wagon."
"I know how you feel," Ellie commiserated. "Devin insisted that we switch cars, said it was safer for me to be driving the Escape. I think he just wanted a crack at my G6."
"Men," Sarah said disgustedly, as Ellie snorted in agreement.
Sarah was not amused. For some reason, she had decided to accompany Chuck to the Buy More as he made an appearance promoting the game he had sold to E.A.
Given the fact that he had once worked at that Buy More, they were more than pleased to have him come to promote the game. However, Sarah had not figured on having to pee every few minutes.
After she had complained one too many times about standing in line, Chuck broke down, and talked Big Mike into giving Sarah the key to the employee restroom. Of course, this rather upset the remainder of the Buy More employees – "I have to urinate with the common folk?" Lester had asked disgustedly – but Big Mike had told them to deal with it or quit.
Sarah didn't know where it was all coming from, either. It seemed like she was getting rid of fluids faster than she could take them in. Feeling dehydrated, she had started chugging out of a liter bottle of water.
"That's just unnatural," Morgan whispered to Chuck, seeing Sarah drinking more water than a camel after a month in the desert.
Chuck turned and fixed at Morgan with a look of pissed-offedness. "You talk about my wife that way again, and I will put a deadbolt on the Morgan Door."
Because yes, there was, indeed, a Morgan Door at the house in Studio City.
Sarah had been ordered to sixteen-hours-a-day bed rest. Because she was having twins, her obstetrician didn't want to take any chances whatsoever.
The remaining eight hours were hers to do with as she pleased, but it really wasn't that great, given that she had to spend the bulk of that time each day working at the CIA offices. What little remained she dedicated to buying clothes for the babies – whatever gender they turned out to be.
"I don't want to know," she had insisted when the doctor had told them that they could know right then and there. Chuck wanted to know, but he promised not to tell Sarah.
But the remaining sixteen hours were rather difficult. Chuck had rigged up one hell of an entertainment system in their bedroom – a large screen plasma TV, hooked up to a one-hundred disc DVD changer that had disc from every season of Firefly, Friends, and Scrubs in it, in addition to the Rolling Stones' entire catalog. He made sure she could easily control everything with the remote.
While she was grateful for everything Chuck had done for her, she was still very irritable. The worst part was that with her hormones running rampant, she really, really wanted to have sex, but her doctor had said "Absolutely not," and so she had to make do with self-gratification.
Bed rest sucked.
Sarah had been scheduled to have a caesarean section on November 20th, just as a precaution. The doctor didn't think it was a good idea for her to have the babies by natural birth.
So, when she was sitting on Ellie's couch on November 15th, holding little two-week old baby Katie, Chuck next to her, her eyes went wide as she suddenly felt like she had just massively peed herself.
Chuck didn't notice, and neither did Devin, but Ellie, sitting across the room, saw the wetness suddenly dripping down the couch. "Oh my God," Ellie said.
Sarah looked up at her and nodded. "Chuck!" Ellie exclaimed. "Your wife is going into labor!"
Chuck looked over at Sarah, eyes wide – and then they rolled back in his head and he passed out.
"Oh for Christ's sake," Ellie said in annoyance. "Devin, help Sarah out to the Escape, would you? I'll see if I can get Chuck awake again."
When they got to Cedars-Sinai Hospital, Sarah was informed by her somewhat amused doctor that the caesarean plan was out the window, because those babies were coming – RIGHT NOW.
The epidural just wasn't enough for Sarah. She lay on the bed, trying to push, screaming in pain. To his credit, Chuck stayed with her, and managed not to pass out, but when the first baby crowned, Sarah glared at him, murder in her eyes, and grated, "If you ever touch me again, I will SHOOT IT OFF."
The first baby delivered was a little girl. After she was cleaned off, she was handed to Chuck, who bent down and showed her to Sarah. Sarah smiled briefly, but Chuck jerked their daughter back away quickly as Sarah screamed again in pain. The unexpected noise set off a round of crying from the newborn infant, who despite being tiny, was almost as loud as her mother.
The second baby came a little more smoothly. It was a little boy, and after he was delivered, Sarah began to breathe much more easily. The doctor asked Chuck and Sarah what the names were going to be, and he was informed that they were to be named Lisa Erin and John Marcus.
That night, as Chuck sat in Sarah's room with her, she relented a little. "Okay, maybe I won't shoot it off."
"Thank God," he replied.
"But I would recommend you not come near me for awhile, buster."