Hey, I don't own Chuck. I know a lot of people have had varying reactions to the finale and I just felt the urge to write this random one-shot. I personally really enjoyed how the story was tied up but I thought I'd just do this little continuation for fun. This is my first foray into Chuck fan-fiction so any comments/criticisms are welcome.

Not for the first time, Morgan Grimes was wrong. And no one was more upset by this fact than Sarah Walker. Though the kiss with Chuck had sparked something within her, there was no onslaught of memories from the life they had shared together. No déjà vu. No familiar feeling. Nothing. Not one single memory came back to her. The butterflies in her stomach, caused by the tenderness of the kiss, did nothing to assuage the pain in her heart. The conflicting feelings that Sarah had felt were completely foreign to her. Happiness and heartache.

It didn't work. The kiss, though magical, was not a magic kiss. It didn't repair her. The disappointment at this realization was crushing. Pulling away from a man who represented five forgotten years of her life, Sarah let the tears fall once more. Taking a breath, she peered into the eyes of a stranger, whom she desperately wanted to know, to remember.

One look was all it took. Staring up, something she had yet to grow used to, into the uniquely hazel eyes of the man before her, Sarah was stuck by the emotion that was reflected in his somber gaze. He knew. Just like she did, he knew. He knew that the crazy idea concocted by his best friend, his last ditched effort to get his wife back, had failed. The pain in his eyes was something that Sarah had grown accustomed to during her time with him. She hated it. She hated Quinn. She hated herself for ever believing that the man sitting next to her deserved the pain and turmoil that he had been put through. Put through by her. Unable to stand the sadness, Sarah had to break the penetrating gaze of the man beside her. As the world's best spy, Sarah rarely displayed such vulnerability. Furiously wiping away the salty tears that streamed down her face, Sarah let out strangled sob. The noise surprised her, but the warm hand that grasped her own was more surprising than any emotion she herself could show.

The simple touch brought a blazing trail of heat to her fingers, numb from the cool morning air. Glancing down, Sarah saw his thumb stroking the glittering ring that she wore on her left hand. The action brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. His hand stilled in its movements and she fears that he's finally realized that it's her fault. That all of the problems, and pain, and loss that he has felt is her fault. When his thumb and forefinger grasp the diamond ring, equally foreign and familiar to her, and gently slides it off her finger, she knows. Knows that her fears were correct and he was finally ready to give up on her, on them. She was a lost cause after all, not someone deserving of his unrelenting compassion and love.

The loss of the weight on her ring finger is painful, but the loss of the warmth of his hands on her own is unbearable. Her hands, now free from his gentle grasp, fly to her face, covering the hurt and anguish that she knows she is conveying. The sobs increase and it becomes difficult to breathe. A weight is pressing on her chest, and she feels her heart hammering at a painful rhythm. She lost him. Lost him before she'd gotten the chance to have him.


Spoken so softly, barely heard over the crashing waves, her name had never in her memory sounded so right. She was a spy, her name an alias. But with him it sounded different, felt different. She realizes that with him, it's real. It's her. It's not an alias, or a cover, or a secret identity used as a shield to protect herself. With him, she is just Sarah.

Sarah, look at me.

But she can't. She can't look at him. If she does, what little resolve she has will crumble. If she looks into his eyes, he'll see how torn she is. How distraught and upset she is. He'll see her pain, and although she's only known him for a little while, she knows that her pain will hurt him as well. He'll feel responsible, he'll feel guilty, he'll try to make her happy. Not wanting to put him through anything else, she refuses to look up. Though, if she's honest with herself, her refusal to meet his gaze is really her own selfish desire to put off the inevitable. She doesn't need to hear it. Doesn't want to hear it. Because as heartbroken as she is, she understands. Understands why the man before her can no longer take the heartache, is no longer willing to put his heart on the line for her.

Damn it Sarah, will you just look at me?

She's experienced numerous forms of torture, varying from starvation to brutally physical beatings, but the voice of the man beside her, frustrated and determined, is one that she feels she could reveal all of her secrets to. She realizes that she probably already has. The soothing voice, and the man it belongs to, is enough to weaken even John Casey, a man known for his iron heart. Still, she isn't the CIA's best operative for nothing. She stares determinedly at her hands, still unwilling to meet his gaze.

She sees him stand up through her peripheral vision, and her eyes squeeze shut. Knowing he's given up is one thing, but watching him walk away? Unbearable. She knows he's gone. Knows he's left. Knows that her heart is irreparable. Just like Prague. She's confused, unsure of the significance. Unsure as to why the heart-wrenching pain she feels is something that she would associate with Prague. Yet, whatever bad memory she has of the foreign city, pales in comparison to the heartache she feels on the beach of Burbank.

The tears continue to fall, and just as she considers wiping them away, she feels a hand gently caress her face. Her eyes snap open and her head snaps up, and there he is, kneeling in front of her with a warm smile on his face. She releases a strangled gasp and clutches his hand in her own, clinging to the feeling of warmth that he supplies. He never left. The realization confuses her. She looks up at him, her stormy blue eyes meeting his own golden brown, and silently asks the question she desperately wishes to voice. Why didn't he leave, wasn't he going to?

Understanding her silent plea, his grin widens. And although she sees tears in his eyes, she thinks for the first time that his answer may not be what she had been expecting.

I love you Sarah Walker. Always have

The memory hits her unexpectedly, his profession of love for her in Castle, and leaves just as suddenly. She lets out an inaudible gasp, one that does not deter Chuck from his spontaneous speech.

And I'll prove it to you, everyday for the rest of our lives. You can count on me.

Him, standing at the altar, grasping her hands in his own. His wedding vows. Their wedding. She remembers.

I don't need a balcony, and I don't need a sunset, we have each other and that's all that matters.

The memories flash before her. His desperate plea for her to stay with him, the moonlit balcony, the hospital.

Because I'm still Chuck, I'm still your Chuck.

Everything he said about her admitting her love for him comes rushing back in excruciating detail. His faux pas shirt, the taste of whiskey and mint ice cream on his lips, her overwhelming feeling of happiness.

I want to be with you, by your side. Always. Morgan's idea didn't work. So what? I'm not giving up on you. I'm going to pester you, and I'm going to be a nuisance, and I'm going to be here for you no matter what. Because I'm Chuck, and you're Sarah. I'm a Buy More Nerd Herder, and you're Vicki Vale.

That does it. Years of pain, and happiness, and love flash before her eyes. And as she tries to make sense of it all, she realizes that Chuck is completely unaware of the memories that he is slowly restoring for her. He has no idea that with each word he utters, he is piecing her back together.

Her tears are falling faster now, but unlike the tears she has been shedding for so long, she welcomes these. For Sarah Walker, everything clicks. He loves her, every version of her. He's pinching the ring he removed from his finger and holds it up to her, his gaze eyes never wavering from her own. Her eyes flicker to the diamond, reflecting the sun's golden rays, and she smiles a watery smile.

Marry me.

And like the first time he asked, she doesn't need to say yes. She doesn't need to say yes because they both know, know that they are going to spend the rest of their lives together. She launches herself at him, closing the gap between them. Grasping his face in her hands, she kisses him with as much fervor as she did in front of the docks. Because, she realizes, her life really did, really does, depend on it. Depend on him. And as they're crying and laughing, and clinging to each other, Sarah Walker understands that she never stood a chance against him. She never stood a chance because she's in love with Chuck Bartowski, and she finally knows what to do about it.