It had been a mildly rough week for Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Wal- no, Bartowski as well.

First, Schwartz and Fedak had tried to kill Sarah. The fucking audacity. Now Chuck knew how Sarah had felt when she had threatened to kill Robert Duncan McNeill. Chuck was right up there with her now. Those two needed to be dead. How DARE they.

Then, because of their machinations, Chuck had had to bring in the freakin' SPETSNAZ in order to get the proper antidote to Sarah. Sure, he had managed to turn Vivian Volkoff back to the good side of the Force – something he never should have had to worry about in the first place, but NO Schwartz and Fedak just HAD to manufacture drama.

It was all ridiculous. In fact, up until the wedding, the sole bright spot had been the news that NBC had renewed them for a final thirteen episode run, and they now KNEW when they were ending.

The group of civilians formerly known as Team Bartowski had been less than thrilled when they were run out of the CIA by, as Morgan so succinctly put it, the "douche", but oh well. Chuck and Sarah now had $877 million to their name, as well as an electronics store and – oh, this was the kicker – a secret freakin' lair.

When Chuck had realized that he now OWNED his own secret lair, he had just about jizzed in his pants, Andy Samberg style.

And so, Chuck and Sarah were nestled quite cozily in the Buy More home theatre room – which, Chuck reflected, was really now HIS home theatre room – having just watched the Season 4 finale with a relatively approving eye, when Morgan came bursting in, all out of sorts.

"You guys!" he announced, his voice thick with worry. "Oh, we've got a problem. BIG PROBLEM."

Chuck grinned and looked up at Morgan. "Did you flash, buddy?" he asked. "Trust me when I say, you'll reach a point where you get used to it and you don't think everything's a big prob…"

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the look on Morgan's face. It was a rather serious look, one which said that Morgan was not reporting on something trivial. "Uh-oh," Chuck said. "What?"

Morgan held up a DVD. At first, Chuck didn't realize what the problem was – it simply looked like the cover of the Season 2 DVD set. But then, he realized one very, very important discrepancy –

"OH MY GOD!" Sarah blurted. "Please, oh please, tell me that that doesn't say what I think it says."

Chuck couldn't tear his gaze away. This Ain't Chuck XXX Parody, the cover said. "Oh, boy," Chuck breathed.

"Four one hour episodes," Morgan read off the back, his voice hollow. "Starring Brooke Banner as Sarah Walker, Nina Hartley as General Diane Beckman, and Irene Demova as Dr. Eleanor Bart-"

"If you finish that sentence, I will hurt you," Chuck growled. "Dammit, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"Watch them."

Both Chuck and Morgan turned to Sarah, eyes wide in disbelief. "Uh… what?" Chuck finally sputtered.

Sarah shook her head, a very serious look on her face. "We have to make sure that we haven't been compromised in any way."

"I think it's a little late for that," Chuck muttered darkly.

"No, I mean security-wise," Sarah sighed. "We have to make sure that there isn't anything on there that could compromise security."

Morgan stared at Sarah. "So, what, we're just going to sit here and watch four hours of porn?"

Sarah reached out and took the case from Morgan. "No, Chuck and I are going to sit here and watch four hours of porn. YOU are going back outside and making sure that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES does anybody even TRY to enter the home theatre room."

FOUR HOURS LATER

"I can't believe you had sex with Cole Barker."

"Chuck…"

"And SHAW!"

"Chuck!"

"I mean, come on, I expected Bryce, but –"

"Oh, don't you start with me, mister. What about the army of half a dozen skanks you just banged your way through?" Sarah glared at Chuck. "Lou, Jill, Hannah, Agent Forrest, Vivian Volkoff, CARINA, for God's sake -" She cut herself off and growled, stomping her foot like a petulant child. "I swear to you, if I ever, EVER find the real life you handcuffed to Carina's bed…" Sarah's voice trailed off, and her eyes narrowed. "By the way, you had BETTER have a VERY good explanation of why your eyes were glazed over during that scene of me with Jill."

Chuck's eyes widened. "Uh… I mean, I was… I was still in shock from the scene before."

Sarah thought back – "Oh, Jesus," she muttered. "Yeah, that's fair. I mean, I understand General Beckman and Roan Montgomery are big, bad spies and all, but… I mean…"

"I don't have a CLUE how they managed to do that… whatever they did there," Chuck shuddered. "Also, Morgan having a threesome with Alex and El- El- oh, God, I'm not finishing that thought."

Sarah sighed. "I gotta say, the C.A.T. Squad thing wasn't that inac- uh, um, bad."

Chuck's head whipped around so fast Sarah was afraid his neck was going to break. "I'm sorry," he said, "it wasn't that INACCURATE?"

Sarah glared at him. "If you like having sex with me, you will never mention it again. Clear?"

"Clear."

That's when there was a knock at the door. Chuck sighed. "Enter at your own risk!"

John Casey stuck his head in the door, a puzzled look on his face. "Grimes said that the two of you were in here… watching porn?"

Chuck just shook his head and tossed the case to Casey. Casey started reading the back. "Brooke Banner… Nina Hartley… Irene Demova…" he mumbled – and then his back went stiff. "With Amy Reid as Alex McHugh?" he growled, squeezing the case so tight that it started to crack.

"Casey –"

Casey looked at Chuck and let loose with grunt #1 – people are going to die. "If you'll excuse me," Casey said, his voice tight and controlled, "I have an appointment with Larry Flynt."

Casey disappeared. "Well…" Chuck fell silent for a moment, and then looked over at Sarah. "I'm thoroughly scarred."

"Yeah, me too," Sarah agreed. "But… I gotta admit…"

"Let me guess… after all that, you want to be the Adorable Psycho for awhile?"

"Plow me, big boy!"

fin