A/N: Oh hi.

So a friend of mine on tumblr was having one of those terribly rotten, no good days and I wanted to cheer her up. How does one cheer up a Chuckster when they're so far away? Well, my friends, it's called a fanfiction hug. A fanfiction emotional Heimlich, if you're a Pushing Daisies fan. So when you read this, my friend, I hope you enjoy your fanfiction hug. I added an especially squeezy squeeze to the hug at the end. That should push you over the edge.

Canon, Season 2, post-Versus the Delorean, Sarah POV. There's also a little hop into season 3.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck. If I did own Chuck, I can assure you, I'd get the complete and brilliant Chuck score on iTunes or Amazon for Chucksters to buy. This is necessary. And yet, where is it? Where is it, I say!

Enjoy, you lovelies!

Sarah kept Chuck's jacket wrapped around her shoulders all the way into the building, past the police officers, past the curious onlookers at the hotel front desk, and into the elevator. She kept her eyes on the ground and allowed Chuck to lead her, never once shrugging his arm off of her shoulder like she knew she should, especially once the elevator doors slid shut and they were alone.

"Hey, he'll be okay," Chuck said softly, his hand rubbing her shoulder. She finally looked up at him and gave him a small smile in an attempt to thank him for the effort, but the smile didn't reach her eyes and she knew it when he didn't smile back.

"Look, Chuck…it's okay. You know, this isn't the first time I've watched my dad walk out of my life like that." She realized once she said it that she sounded pitiful. She meant to drop the subject, let him know that she was used to it, that it didn't bother her anymore.

But he was Chuck Bartowski, and she knew he cared enough about her that he'd see right through her. That didn't stop her from trying.

"Chuck, really. I'm fine. He'll take care of himself out there. That's what he does best, taking care of himself. I'm used to it." They reached her floor and she walked down the hallway to her room. She felt more than heard Chuck standing behind her as she unlocked the door and walked in.

"That's not right. You shouldn't have to get used to watching your dad leave."

She felt a spike of anger, and even though it wasn't Chuck's fault, his presence at the moment was irking her to no end. "That's just how it is, Chuck," she snapped. He flinched and she took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm taking it out on you, and I don't mean to. Whenever he left in the past, I dealt with it alone. I took my anger out on…"

"Yourself?" he asked with a timid shrug. It was almost as though he could see what was in her head. He knew what she had to hear but he also knew she wouldn't want to hear it. He was gathering his courage. She could see it in him, the way he furrowed his brow and flipped the end of his tie around his fingers. It was hard not to find it endearing, but she quickly shut that thought out and instead channeled a different emotion, the emotion she was used to when her father was involved.

"It's easier that way," she muttered, surprising herself. Unable to handle the way he was looking at her, she walked to the window and peered outside as the sun set lower on the horizon and the shadows grew longer.

"You want to be alone?"

"No, Chuck." She sent a real smile over her shoulder. "Thank you, but no. You can stay…if you want to."

He shuffled his feet, as though he were debating. "Want me to bring you some ice cream?"

Sarah turned and looked at him. He wore his same friendly smile, his head tilted a bit, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Had she told him about her dad buying her ice cream after successful con jobs? She suddenly couldn't remember. Or was he just being Chuck, the sweet, caring guy who was actively trying to cheer her up even though she was fighting him at every turn?

"No thanks, Chuck. It'll spoil my dinner," she teased half-heartedly, fingering the beige drapes before turning back and taking his jacket from her shoulders. She moved across the room and tossed it on her bed, plopping down and tucking her legs under her body.

"But that's the point!" he exclaimed with his Chuck original grin, the one that made her grin back, even if it didn't always show in her face. She let out an amused huff and bit her lip, looking over at him as he sat on the bed next to her.

When he took a deep breath, she knew she was about to get one of his articulate schnook speeches again, and she wasn't sure she was in the mood, as nice as they were. But he didn't say anything. He just sat there silently, leaning his elbows on his knees and holding his chin.

Sarah turned to look at Chuck's profile. He was still here, in his scuffed sneakers and untucked Nerd Herd shirt, his wrinkled tie and unruly hair. In the past, she'd dealt with her father's abandonment alone. And Chuck was right; she had always taken her anger out on herself, just like she had the other day when her father stole the laptop with the sheik's money. Now that he was gone again…

It was almost as though Chuck had a sixth sense that she would need someone, that she would need him. He wouldn't let her be alone this time.

Maybe it was the whole deal with his own father. He'd always had Ellie there with him. They'd had each other to lean on whenever their dad left. Sarah had no one all these years. Maybe this was Chuck's way of giving her what she hadn't had in the past.

"Fine, fine. I get it. No ice cream." His voice startled her out of her present thoughts that included wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. That would be bad. Really, really nice…but bad.

"I know this great place with Italian food that delivers." He bounced his eyebrows at her and she laughed, watching him take his phone out of his pocket and slide the lock.

"What, you have it on speed dial?"

"But of course," he responded, a flabbergasted look on his face. He made a show of searching through his contacts and pressing send, bring the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Domino's?" Sarah spun to look at him and laughed hard, stifling it in her hand. "Shh! Sorry, not you. I have a very noisy parrot." Sarah's laughter died and she sent him a playful glare, swatting his shoulder. He made a half-assed attempt at batting it away. "Hi, yes. Sorry. I'd like to order for delivery, please. The name's Chuck. Maison23. That's right, the green one. Uh huh. Room 832. Right, the pizza. Medium vegetarian." His eyes flicked up to her and he made a goofy face. "And hold the anchovies, duuude. Yes, thank you. Michaelangelo is totally the best one." He covered his phone and mouthed, "See?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and stood up from the bed, crossing to her dresser and getting her wallet.

"No actually, I didn't mean the anchovies thing. I mean, no anchovies, yeah, but that should be obvious because I want a vegetarian. Right." Chuck paused. "Yes, I'd like the vegetables," he deadpanned, sending Sarah an unamused look. "Funny guy," he mouthed to her sardonically. "Ah, one more thing, my good man. No olives."

Sarah couldn't help but smile at that as Chuck thanked the man and hung up, sticking his phone back in his pocket.

"Italian?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Pizza's Italian. Originally." He shrugged sheepishly. Then he stood up and fished his wallet out of his other pocket.

"Nuh uh, no. I'm paying this time." She waved her wallet at him.

"No, come on. The pizza was my idea. I'm paying."

"I know so many ways to hurt you, Chuck Bartowski, so you're gonna let me buy this pizza," she threatened, clenching her jaw. He shoved his wallet back into his pocket and held up his hands, swallowing loudly. "That's better."

"You know," he started, sitting back down on her bed and kicking his shoes off, settling himself back against her headboard. She felt a thrill shoot through her at seeing him make himself at home in her room, on her bed. She tried in vain to ignore it. "Someday I'll have built up an immunity to your threats and they'll no longer affect me."

"Nope," she chirped. "I know so many ways to threaten you, Chuck. You'll never be immuned."

"Oh, I think I will."

"Mm, no you won't." She hopped onto the other side of the bed and leaned back against the headboard in a mimicry of him. "Can you hand me the remote?"

"I dunno, can I?"

"You know I hate it when you do that crap to me, Chuck."

He laughed and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the remote and handing it to her. She switched on the TV and surfed through the channels for a few minutes, listening to Chuck ramble about Morgan moving in with Anna and how huge of a mistake it would be for both of them.

"I mean, Morgan is a slob. He leaves his crap everywhere. When I was a kid and I'd go over to play, I'd literally have to swim through his stuff to get anywhere near the bed. And Anna, I mean, I've never seen whether she's a slob or not. I'm guessing she wouldn't be. But she's super…uh…"

"Bossy?" Sarah provided.

Chuck sat up straighter and spun on her. "Yes! God, thank you. She's so bossy. A really nice girl, but...I guess I don't know their situation as well as all that, so maybe they'll be fine. This whole Delorean thing hasn't scared her off, so I guess that's a plus for Morgs." He paused. "I'm rambling again. Am I rambling?"

She just turned her head and watched his profile for a moment, as she liked it better than whatever cack was on the television at the moment. Sarah smiled and shook her head. "No."

"No, I'm not rambling?"

"I mean, you are, a little. But I'm used to it. And I was listening."

"Great, now you're getting used to my bad habits."

No, the truth was that she'd grown accustomed to them. She'd grown accustomed to Chuck Bartowski himself, which was different than just being used to him. Sarah didn't just tolerate him the way Casey did. She didn't just put up with him. He'd become tightly threaded into her life in a way that made him incredibly important to her. It frightened her just how important he was. The Intersect and national security had nothing to do with it, and maybe that's what frightened her the most. Sarah's life without Chuck Bartowski in it would be…Well, she didn't know exactly.

It would be like it had been before she'd met him. Except worse, because she knew what her life was with someone like Chuck in it, and it would hurt all the more that he wasn't there any longer. That he wouldn't make incredibly kind and heartwarming gestures with no deeper purpose except than to make her smile or brighten her day.

Biting her lip, she withheld a sigh as there was a knock on her hotel door. As Chuck stood to go to the door, Sarah's hand slipped under the pillow and she wrapped her fingers around her Smith & Wesson.

Chuck swung the door open, revealing a mousy-haired teenager. "Uh, Sarah? If you don't pay, I'm going to have to and then you'll hurt me." The delivery guy made a confused face, which immediately made way for unadulterated awe as Sarah stepped into his view, the money in her hand.

"Sorry, uh…Here, keep the change."

The poor guy stammered, took the money, handed the pizza over, and bolted down the hallway. As Chuck shut the door, he shook his head. "God, you've got the craziest effect on nerds."

"Have I?" she teased, putting her wallet away and crawling back onto the bed as Chuck prepared the plates and napkins.

"Well, you already know the effect you have on this nerd—" His voice caught on the last word and he shut his mouth, turning back to his chore of loading the plates, his cheeks tinged with a blush.

She took advantage of his back being turned to smile widely, pleased by his slip-up. It wasn't as though she didn't know Chuck cared a great deal about her. And her father's little test only furthered the theory. Ten million dollars hadn't sent Chuck running for the hills, and even though there were mitigating circumstances that kept him here anyways, Jack Burton's assumption about his daughter's 'boyfriend' was on the money, as it were.

They ate in companionable silence, Sarah musing all the while on how much nicer it was to spend the hours post-abandonment with someone, someone who didn't shower her with pity or sympathy. Chuck understood what it was to be abandoned by the one person who was supposed to never leave you. His father had abandoned him and Ellie, just as her father had done the same. There was nothing Chuck could say to make her feel better about it, to make her feel less like her father was taking the easy, less emotional way out. And nothing Chuck said would change the fact that she thought her father was a coward for it. It seemed the computer nerd understood this from the get-go. He most likely recognized that words couldn't do much to change the situation, but what he couldn't know was that just having his physical presence in her room was doing wonders for the CIA agent.

Sarah belatedly realized the television was still on and reached for the remote to turn it off, but Chuck's hand clamped over hers. "Wait, wait, wait….this just started, I kinda want to see it."

She frowned and looked at the television. She was immediately hit with a memory from her childhood. "Oh my God," she breathed.

"What? What is it? Did you get an olive? Damn it, I told him no ol—" He stopped dead when her hand gripped his arm tightly, her lip quivering a bit. "What is it? What's wrong? Sarah?" He set the pizza down and scooted closer.

Sarah shook her head and turned the television off, fighting to keep her emotions at bay.

"Hey, why'd you turn it off?"

"I just—I don't want to watch TV anymore. Is that alright with you?" she snapped. Then she let out an annoyed sigh again. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I didn't mean to—damn it." She was being a basket case and she knew it. "I'm okay," she finished lamely, inwardly rolling her eyes at herself.

"Why do you always blow up and then apologize only to try to convince me you're okay immediately afterwards? It's so frustrating! Like I can't tell you're upset. Why don't you try something else for once and just talk to me?" His eyes suddenly bugged out as he realized he'd just snapped at her. He paled a little and looked down at his lap.

Sarah gaped at him and worked to shut her mouth again. "Fine," she breathed, relenting only because of how miserable he happened to look at the moment. "I guess I was just reminded of something by what was on the TV just then. That's all."

"What was it?"

"It's a movie that I used to really like. It's not a big deal. I don't know why I overreacted like that. I guess I haven't thought about it in a while." Please leave it at that, Chuck. Please, just this once.

"Ah. What's the movie?"

Sarah sighed and tossed the remote onto the bed, sitting up and curling her legs under her again. "Just an old one. You probably don't know it."

"Nah, tell me. Maybe I will. Ellie likes that kind of stuff."

Sarah shook her head mutely. They'd already had enough heart to heart. Granted it hadn't been all that much. Biting her lip, she stood up and began clearing away their mess from dinner. Chuck watched silently for a moment. She could feel his eyes boring holes into her back as she putzed around. He sighed behind her and she heard the bed rustle as he sat up and began pulling his shoes on.

There was a definite ache in her chest as she realized he'd taken her cleaning up as a hint that she wanted him to leave. Had she done that subconsciously? She didn't really want him to go. She would be alone again. Chuck had spoiled her by spending the evening with her after Jack Burton made his speedy escape. He had changed everything, hadn't he? At least before when her father walked out of her life, she could force herself to move on, hide her hurt. She knew she could depend on herself.

Chuck had offered her himself, and now she wondered if she could ever go back to self-reliance, or if she would let herself depend on him every time something hurt her. She couldn't let herself rely on him like that. She wouldn't. No matter how much she wanted to. Besides, there would come a time in the future when the Intersect project would end, Sarah would move on to a new assignment, and she would never be able to see Chuck Bartowski again. The ache inside her chest amplified at the thought of her future without him. Would she be able to go back to relying on herself? Doubtful.

Sarah realized belatedly that she'd stopped clearing things away and was watching him as he tied his last converse sneaker. When he looked up, she darted her eyes away.


"Yeah, Sarah?" He was standing now, preparing to grab his jacket and head out.

She battled violently with herself until the words finally came out.

"Why'd you come here?"

He looked a little stunned. "What?"

"I mean tonight. Why'd you come here?"

"Casey told me they were arresting your dad at five, so I—I guess I just came to…" He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know."

"You came to help him get away, didn't you?" Everything began clicking into place; the way Chuck fortuitously appeared right as the police arrived, how he was there in front of her just when she needed him, wrapping his coat over her shoulders when she shivered, the pinched look on his features as he glanced over his shoulder before they went inside. Did Chuck think she would have sold her dad out?

"I guess. If you needed me to. I probably would have done whatever you wanted. But when I saw him out in front of the hotel, I knew you had let him go. So I…let him go, too."

Sarah wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and hug him. Instead, she clung tighter to the empty pizza box and smiled. "Thanks, Chuck."

"You're welcome." With a shy shrug, he turned to pick up his jacket, twisting it in his hands. "So I guess I'll head out, then. I borrowed a Nerd Herder and I wasn't really supposed to. I just wanted to be able to get here in time when my shift ended at four-thirty."

"Can't you get fired for something like that?" He gave her a look. "Right. Of course not."

"I'll take the trash with me on my way out."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, okay." She thrust the box out to him, having already stuffed their napkins, the bag, and empty soda bottles inside. "Thank you."

"Welcome. I parked next to the dumpster, so…" He chuckled, pulling his jacket on and taking the box to tuck it under his arm. As he put his hand on the door handle, he stopped. One hundred different possibilities for what he might say sprung to Sarah's mind. She stood a little straighter and stole herself in preparation.

"Are we good?" he asked over his shoulder, his deep brown eyes finding hers. He shut his eyes tightly for a second, shaking his head in annoyance with himself. "I mean…are you okay? Will you be alright?"

"I always am, Chuck. But you…" She sighed. "You helped an awful lot." Her smile was small, but definitely real. He deserved something real, even if it wasn't what she wanted to give him. Even if what she really wanted was to ask him to stay longer, to wrap her arms around him and stay close to him as long as he'd let her.

"Ah! Then my work here is done." With a cheeky grin, he swept the door open and winked over his shoulder.


He turned again, this time facing her fully. "Yeah?"

"It's The Lady Eve. Henry Fonda is in it. And Barbara Stanwyck." The tension in his shoulders eased and his entire face seemed to melt into a grin that left her heart fluttering in her chest. Chuck Bartowski's happiness was quite possibly her crack. She couldn't get enough of it. So she continued.

"My dad left me in the hotel alone one night in Houston when I was about nine years old; he was pulling a job on his own. The television was this old, beat up thing and it only had one channel and all it played were old movies. The Lady Eve came on and…" She began wringing her hands, feeling like she was naked in front of him, but the look in his eyes forced her to continue. "It was about a father and daughter con artist team, just like me and Dad. And it was funny and romantic. I only saw it that one time, but everything about it stuck with me. I can still see it all now, you know? I remember everything about it." She giggled a little. "When she first sees her mark, she drops an apple on his head from the top deck when he's climbing onto the boat. And it makes this funny clunking sound." He laughed with her this time. "And then she pulls one over on her dad at the card table to protect the guy she's fallen for and she's so brilliant. Anyways, I saw it—that was—God, that was almost twenty years ago." She paused and met his soft and incredibly powerful gaze. "It's my favorite movie and I only saw it once."

He chuckled and nodded, and she wondered if he was going to say anything. He didn't. He just walked up to her, letting go of her door, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, his warm fingers lingering against her neck. Maybe he thought what he'd just heard was a dream and it would be ruined if he spoke. Sarah didn't know. All she knew was that her skin felt hot, her chest felt tight, and when he finally disappeared, the door shutting behind him, she wanted to follow and drag him back.

She didn't. Instead she went into her bathroom and turned the bathtub on, the sound of the rushing water drowning out her awfully loud thoughts.


Sarah crossed her kitchen with the heavy pot and poured the water and noodles into the colander she'd set in the sink. The steam rushed up into her face so she leaned back a bit, setting the pot down on the counter and shaking the colander a few times.

As the noodles sloshed around, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall, the happy hum of her boyfriend drifting into the kitchen.

Sarah smiled to herself and slid the noodles back into the pot. There were so many benefits to moving in with Chuck, and she'd already discovered quite a few after only moving in officially the day before.

His humming habit was one of her favorite things.

And then there was the breakfast they'd shared that morning. Morgan rejected his portion of the frittata, instead tiredly eating his cereal with a plastic spork and jetting off to the Buy More. But she and Chuck enjoyed their breakfast, their first cooked breakfast as a couple living together.

She'd noticed Chuck was also a bit of a clean freak, even worse than she was. She didn't own very many things as it was; just her clothes, shoes, spy gear and other necessities, a few framed pictures of her and Chuck. So there wasn't much to create clutter. Chuck, on the other hand, had so much junk—collector's mugs and posters and action figures, books and comics and records and movies and electronic equipment. And yet, he kept it all in a way that made his room still feel spacious and homey at the same time.

It was an art form, she thought to herself. And she loved it.

His humming drifted into the kitchen and stopped as she heard his bare feet shuffle against the floor. "Mmm, I smell garlic."

"Good nose," she chirped over her shoulder.

"It doesn't take a good nose to smell garlic, baby," he teased, shuffling a bit closer and leaning over the pan where her spices and vegetables were sizzling in olive oil.

She told him that morning that she would make him dinner. Morgan had decided to make himself scarce, for which Sarah texted him thanks earlier in the evening. He was already being kind about the whole 'leggy Valkyrie' moving in thing, something she'd been a bit worried about, especially after she'd overheard Chuck's conversation with Morgan the other morning. She would probably have to discuss the whole sharing her boyfriend thing with Chuck at some point. Video gaming nights were in her future, she knew, unless she could weasel out of it somehow and let the boys have their fun without her.

But that was for later, because at the moment Chuck was getting his nose a little to close to the pan. "Hey, that's hot. Be careful, you goof."

"Guess the movie!" he commanded, ignoring her and leaning over the pan to take a deep whiff, letting out a long 'Ahh', taking an even longer whiff, letting out a longer 'Ahhhh', and repeating it a third time.

She just shook her head and squinted at him as though he'd sprouted wings.

"Oh, come on! We just watched it last week! Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the Secret of the Ooze." He shook his head in playful disappointment.

"You're a cheater! They did that over pizza, not vegetables!" she exclaimed, shaking the wooden spoon at him.

"You do remember. I should never have doubted your nerdiness."

"Oh no, please. Please, doubt it."

He laughed and she was hit with a wave of giddiness knowing she'd been the source of his happy chuckle. She let him wrap his arm around her waist and tug her to his side. "It's almost ready," she said, putting a bit of roasted pepper on the spoon, blowing on it and taking a bite out of it. She moaned a little at the taste, but was caught off guard when she pulled the spoon away and the rest of the pepper slapped against her chin.

Ever her hero, Chuck ducked close and attacked her chin with his open mouth, eating the rest of the pepper and running his tongue up to her lips. She squealed and giggled as his other arm wrapped around her and tugged her flush against him, melding their lips in a heated kiss. She moaned again, this time for a different reason. She was losing herself in the spicy taste of his mouth from the roasted pepper they'd shared, the strength of his arms enfolding her…

Until she felt something pointy pressed against her back.

Sarah pulled away a bit and squinted in suspicion. "What's in your hand?"

"Hm?" He blinked dreamily, then shook his head of the cobwebs. "Uh, right." He let go of her and thrust a hastily wrapped rectangular object in front of her, the bow tied a bit wonkily at the top. "The uh…the wrapping station's hours at the Buy More aren't as long after the holidays I discovered today. So I did it myself. That's why it looks like crap."

Her voice bubbled in her chest in a happy giggle. "No, it's cute. What's this for, anyways? I already told you my birthday in Paris, Chuck. You can stop guessing."

"Ha. Ha." He shook his head. "It's a sort of welcome home present."

Sarah's heart felt light as she looked into his warm eyes and leaned up to kiss him softly. "You know you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know. I wanted to."

If it was another family heirloom, she would probably combust on the spot. Or she'd have to turn off the stove and dinner would probably be ruined, in lieu of other, more rigorous activities.

Instead of letting her mind wander in that direction, she took her apron off and set it aside. She sent him a coy smile and unwrapped the hastily tied bow, pulling the silvery paper apart. She gasped and her face nearly split apart with a grin.

She held the DVD up against her chest and shook her head at him, feeling her eyes misting a bit.

Clutched in her hands was The Lady Eve, her favorite movie.

"I meant to give it to you for Christmas last year after you told me about it, but then I found my mom's charm bracelet. And I meant to give it to you so many times after that. But I saw it today at the Buy More and…Well, there you go."

"Chuck…" What could she say, really? She knew shouldn't have been so surprised he'd remembered her favorite movie. Especially since she'd made it pretty clear that the film was important to her.

"I remember a lot of things you've told me about yourself, Sarah. Real things. I have a special spot in my brain for Sarah Walker's secrets, all of the slip-ups you made, the times you let out little things from your past." He tapped his temple proudly. "They're all there."

She had nothing to say to that. It wasn't news, really. And it hurt before to know how much he prized those little real things about her. She'd been so scared of letting him in, and as unfair as it was, he'd accepted it.

He interrupted her melancholy thoughts.

"Like the time you were limping after one of our missions and I got you to tell me about the time you broke your left foot on a mission in Kabul—"

"Wait a second! That's why you spend so much time on my left foot when you rub my feet?" She gave him a flabbergasted look and grinned.

He laughed. "I don't really."

"You really do."

"Oh. Well, it was subconscious I guess. Hehe. You must have thought I was a creep with a left foot fetish."

Letting out a loud laugh, she shook her head. "I thought it was kinda cute, but maybe a little weird. Now it's just incredibly sweet." She tapped the DVD with her finger. "And this is incredibly sweet, too, Chuck. Thank you."

"Well, now you can see it again. And again. And again. However many times you want." He swept a hand through his damp curls a bit bashfully. "And, uh, now you have someone to watch it with."

Sarah tilted her head and stared at him, his adorable nose, the curls, the brown eyes that spoke of his love every time he looked at her…

God, she was getting so corny and schmaltzy. Casey would grunt in disgust if he knew even a third of what went through her head when she looked at Chuck, especially now that they were together and she no longer had to push those thoughts into the dark recesses of her heart.

"You very hungry?" she asked coyly.

"Uhh…I mean, not very. I could eat." He grinned.

"Could you wait maybe a half hour, forty five minutes?"

"Yeah, but I thought you said it was read—Ohhhh."

With a sultry little giggle, she set the DVD down on the counter and grabbed the ties at the front of his cotton pajama pants, using them to lead him out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into their bedroom.

Dinner and a movie would have to wait a little while.

A/N: Hi again.

Just so you all know, The Lady Eve is honestly a fantastic film. Everyone check it out. I had this vision of Sarah falling in love with it as a kid because of its slapstick humor and sweet romantic plot, but mostly because the father/daughter con artists are so relatable for her. It's just a great film.

Classic film promotion aside, I hope you all enjoyed this! And I hope you experienced some sort of fanfiction hug even if it was primarily for my friend.

I would certainly appreciate a review, but if you can't scrounge one up, I understand. ;)

Ta, my friends! Until next time!