This is probably the closest I'm going to get to writing crack fic.

Chuck vs the Jackpot

It wasn't in Sarah Walker's nature to oversleep. Under normal circumstances, she would have already been through her usual workout routine, then a long stretch, an even longer shower, and after getting dressed in her work clothes, a quick stop at the bagel place down the street for coffee and a chocolate scone.

But this morning, the bed had just felt so good. And after a few taps of the snooze button, Sarah now found herself to be late for her cover job. And even though it was just a cover job, Sarah hated being late for anything.

So, when she heard a knock on her door while simultaneously applying her makeup and checking that her throwing knives were in place (being very careful not to confuse one hand with the other), she was less enthusiastic than usual to see Chuck through the peephole.

Sarah opened to door to let Chuck in, barely saying hello before rushing back to her vanity.

"Sorry, Chuck, but I'm running kind of late this morning."

Chuck didn't respond. He wandered into Sarah's hotel room, pausing to look around for a moment before finally remembering to close the door behind him. Sarah, only slightly aware of Chuck's silence, continued talking.

"You know, that alarm clock you got me is really nice, but the snooze button is way too big."

Chuck sat down on the edge of Sarah's bed, watching as she got ready.

"I don't suppose you have any kind of upward feedback towards the manufacturer, do you?" Sarah continued. "They should have some sort of restriction on the snooze button. Like, you can hit it once, and then if you try to hit it again the alarm gets louder."

Chuck nodded absently. "Um, Sarah?"

"Or, wait a second, this is a great idea - you have to finish some kind of puzzle to get a second snooze in, you know? Make the person work for it. Like, you've got to solve a Rubik's Cube or something."

"Sarah, I have something to--"

"I mean, if you're awake enough to solve a Rubik's Cube, you're awake enough to start your day. So, by the time you've solved it, you don't want to go back to sleep anymore. Hey, do they make a combination alarm clock - slash - coffee maker?"


Sarah finally whipped her head around and looked fully at Chuck. He was pale. He looked shell-shocked. He was dressed for work, but had a glassy-eyed look on his face. She stood up and walked over to him.

"What's wrong?"

Chuck took a deep breath, and seemed to steel himself. "Okay… um… don't freak out…"

"Chuck, what is it? Are you okay? Have you been drugged or something?"

"No, no, it's not that. It's just… uh…"

Chuck stood up and started pacing. He pulled nervously at his tie, looking at Sarah and then looking away.

"Chuck, remember when you asked me not to freak out? You're kind of freaking me out, now."

Chuck finally stopped pacing and faced Sarah again. He took her hands in his.

"Sorry. Sorry. I just… I probably should have called first, or something. Warned you that I'd be coming, I guess. It's just… I'm just trying to figure out how to tell you…"

Chuck paused. Sarah closed her eyes.

She knew this moment would come, some day. But why now? Her mind flew through the past few days for something, anything that had happened to trigger Chuck's obvious need to confess his feelings for her. There were moments, for certain; a hand held too long, a gaze that lingered, a touch here and there that felt just a little too warm, a little too real. But nothing more so than their usual behavior - and perhaps that in and of itself was it. Maybe it wasn't any one thing, but the sum of all things. For theirs was a dance to which they knew the steps all too well, and--

"…I won the lottery."

--like all dances, this one had to come to an end at some--

Wait a second.

Sarah stared at Chuck for a long speechless moment. Finally:


Yep. The "Jackpot" is literal.

I bet you're wondering where I'm going with this. Well... I am, too.