"I don't know." Charles Bartowski – Chuck to his friends – shook his head.

"Nothing?" Sarah Walker asked.

"Not a thing." He sat back in his chair and ran his hands through his untidy hair.

"This is not good." Sarah stood up and began to pace. "This is so not good."

"You think?" He tried a half smile. "I was wondering if it really is good and we're just not looking at it from the right angle."

She stopped and glared at him. "Chuck, this information should have made you flash." Glancing down at the open file on the coffee table, she gritted her teeth. "And you say there was nothing."

"Not even a twitch." He leaned forward again, elbows resting on his knees. "You know, it isn't an exact science. And there're been times before when you thought I should know something, and I didn't."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"My bosses … your bosses … need to believe you're still working. That the Intersect is still functioning. It's been several weeks since you've seen anything at all, and if they find out there's a problem they're going to start to get worried."

"I'm not. If I never have another flash I won't be sad."

She stared at him. For someone who was at least supposed to be intelligent he was surprisingly stupid at times. "And if you don't? Do you have any idea what will happen?"

"I'll go back to being Chuck Bartowski, top geek at the Buy More." He saw her look, misinterpreted it, and amended, "Okay, not top. But close."

"Not even within spitting distance, not with Morgan around. But not that it'll matter, because you won't be working there any more."

"I won't?"

"No. Because you'll be dead."

He'd heard this too often to take it seriously. "Look, Sarah, if I can't flash on anything, then I won't be a threat to anyone."

"Except us."

"Excuse me?"

She sat down again opposite him. "Chuck, don't be an idiot. You know you're only alive so long as you're useful to the Government. As soon as you stop the top brass will come to a decision, and I don't think you're going to like it very much." There was no way she was going to tell him about Intersect 2.0, that he might be redundant at any moment, but it was a close call.

"You know, I didn't ask for this." He was starting to feel angry. "Bryce was the one who –"

"I don't care!" Her own temper was flaring, and she knew that was a bad sign. She was an agent, and she shouldn't let emotion rule her. She took a deep breath. "Chuck," she said, moderating her tone, "if they think you're a threat, they'll eliminate you. They'll tell Casey to do it, you know that. He might not like it, but he'll obey orders."

"He wouldn't kill me." Unfortunately Chuck no longer felt as confident as he sounded. "We're friends."

"Do you have any idea how many people he's terminated?"

Chuck squirmed a little. "No."

"Neither do I, because he doesn't talk about it. But I know it's a lot. And he had to become friends to some of them, just to get close enough. You really think he's going to ruin his career by saying no?"

"Um …" Chuck swallowed. "Okay, I think maybe you've convinced me. But I'm not doing this on purpose. I really don't see anything."

Sarah felt guilty, seeing the colour leach from his face like that, but it was another emotion she couldn't allow herself. "Then maybe we need to do something more drastic." She reached into her purse for her cell phone. "Casey won't like it, but …" She dialled.

"Casey won't like what?"

--

"Why don't you go back to your own apartment?" Sarah asked, leaning on the back of the sofa and staring at Casey.

The big man stretched out, idly scratching an itch at his waist. "You sound like you're trying to get rid of me."

"Now would I be doing that?"

He half-smiled. "You and Chuck planning on something you don't want me to know about?"

"No."

"Only if you were, I think it would be my sworn duty to stay and stop you. You know what the General's like about fraternising."

"Don't be disgusting." She looked down at her hands, glancing surreptitiously at her watch. "Don't you have any … bushes need trimming or something?"

He knew what she was talking about, but didn't let it needle him. "They're called Bonsai. And some of them are really old."

"Then maybe they need some company."

His eyes narrowed a little. "What kind of game are you playing, Sarah?"

"No game." She smiled at him, and the little worm of concern in his belly began to grow. "I just know how much you love hanging out with us, and I simply thought if you had something better to do –"

"Not a thing. Apartment's tidy, the trees are fed and watered … so I can stay as long as I like." He put his hands behind his head, knowing it emphasised the thick ropes of muscles in his arms.

"Fine." She wasn't impressed. "Stay. See if I care." She glared at him then walked towards the kitchen, interrupted by someone knocking on the front door. Shave and a haircut … She waited and wasn't disappointed. Two bits.

Casey sat forward. That sounded familiar. It wasn't like a lot of people didn't use that particular knock, but most didn't put that pause in. And not for so long. "Sarah …" he said, standing up slowly, his black t-shirt stretching across his chest.

"Oh, visitors," she said brightly.

Casey fought the urge to reach down to the small holster attached to his ankle under his black jeans, to remove the pistol hiding there and shoot Sarah down in very hot blood. "If that's who I think it is –"

"Hey, is that someone at the door?" Chuck asked, heading out of the bedroom. "Is it her?"

Sarah peered through the tiny security hole. "It is." She opened the door. "Hello, Max."

The woman outside smiled. "Sarah." It was almost a statement, as if she was confirming an identity. "So, do we do this on the doorstep or do you let me in?" She had an accent, probably English, but tinted as if she'd lived a long while in the States.

Sarah stepped back. "Come on inside."

Maxine Colbert picked up the large case at her feet and lugged it across the threshold. "Thanks."

"Here, let me," Chuck said, hurrying forwards.

"No, I've got it. And it's got some sensitive equipment inside, so I'd rather not risk it." She dumped it on the coffee table, making the cups on it rattle. "Don't worry, I can do that. I'm allowed." She grinned. "You must be Charles."

"Chuck," he corrected. "Everyone just calls me Chuck."

"Hi, Chuck. Call me Max."

"Max." He studied her for a moment, seeing the short brown hair curling at the nape of her neck, the curves half-hidden under the casual clothes, the hazel, almost green eyes, even the slight indentation of laughter lines at the corners that announced she was a little older than she appeared. Then he saw her face change, become harder. No, sadder.

"John." She held out a hand. "Long time no see."

Casey shrugged, not taking it. "I guess."

They stared at each other for so long that Chuck began to get uncomfortable, and so apparently did Sarah, for she clapped her hands. "Well, now that's got all the unpleasantness out of the way, do you want a drink first? Coffee? Tea?"

Max shook her head, tearing her eyes from the man in front of her. "No, nothing for me. I think we need to get to work." She tapped her case. "Where can I set this up? I need it to be fairly dark, and preferably with no interruptions."

"Uh, my room?" Chuck suggested.

She smiled at him, more genuine now. "Fine."

"This way, then, Max."

"After you." She hefted her bag again, following him out.

"What the hell's going on here, Sarah?" Casey growled, his blue eyes flashing murder if she didn't tell.

She didn't fall for it, too immune to his many charms and annoyances to be phased. "Max is here to help Chuck."

"How?"

"Can't you just accept it? Do you have to ask questions all the time?"

"Of course. I'm an agent. And so are you," he pointed out. "If there's something wrong with the Intersect we need to tell –"

"No, we don't." She pushed him back so he was sitting down again, fully aware she had been able to do it simply because he'd let her. "Chuck's having a few … problems. But it's nothing that won't fix itself, so we're not going to tell anyone anything."

"Sarah –"

"No, Casey."

"What kind of problems?" His eyes jumped to the bedroom and back again. "If it's something you think Max can deal with –"

"At least you're calling her by her name this time. Not 'that woman'."

"You're trying to sidetrack me. And I haven't said that in a long time."

"No. In fact you haven't talked about her at all."

"Nothing to talk about."

"No?" She crossed her arms. "First Ilsa, now Max …"

"Leave it, Sarah."

"So you're saying you've not got a problem with Max being here."

"Not a thing. Not like that," he quickly amended. "But you still haven't told me what the problem is in the first place, although I can guess. He's having trouble flashing on anything, isn't he?"

She glared at him, then nodded reluctantly. "Some."

"How much?" She didn't answer immediately, so he repeated, much stronger this time, "How much?"

"Pretty much all of it." She collapsed back in the chair. "I showed him some stuff that should have got his lights flashing and bells ringing, but there was nothing. Hasn't been for nearly a month."

"How come no-one's said anything?" he wanted to know.

"They have. He has. Just … not to you."

Now Casey was getting annoyed. "Why not? I need to be in the loop on these things."

"And they might have to tell you to kill him."

Now he understood her reticence. "What's up, Sarah? You getting even more attached to the guy?"

If looks could have killed he'd have been at the epicentre of a dead space some miles across. "I like him. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're only supposed to be pretending he's your boyfriend."

"Like you were only supposed to be pretending to fall in love with Max?"

For a second he stared at her. "That's low."

"So it's not true? You didn't love her and leave her, breaking her heart?"

"I did my job."

"Oh, so the General told you to do that?"

"Yes." He really didn't want to discuss it any further. Standing up, he looked down at her. "I hope you know what you're doing. If Chuck has lost the Intersect information, you know what that means."

She got to her feet, facing him and looking up into his eyes. "I know exactly. Which is why Max is doing this as a favour. You don't want to kill Chuck any more than he wants to be killed. So I think we can give her a little time, don't you?"

The air seemed to heat up around them until it was shimmering, but it was Casey who broke first. "Damn it, Sarah. You're just lucky we haven't had an assignment in a while."

"I know," she admitted. "Very lucky."

--

In Chuck's bedroom the man himself was standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed awkwardly. "So … where do you want me?" he asked.

"On the bed."

"Huh?"

She laughed. "Sit on the bed. I'll get my stuff ready. Don't worry, it won't hurt."

"Oh. Good." He lowered himself gingerly onto the counterpane. "So … what is it you actually do?"

"Didn't Sarah tell you?" She busied herself lifting various pieces of equipment from the case, including a scary headset with a dozen nodes across it.

"Not … not really."

"I'm a retro-psychoanalyst."

"Right." He patted his hands together. "Of course."

"You have no idea what that is."

"Not a clue."

"Mostly I find out why people do what they do."

"That's makes it so much clearer."

She smiled at his dry tone. "Chuck, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. And with any luck we'll find out why you're having trouble accessing certain information."

He finally began to relax. "Good. And thanks."

"No need. I owed Sarah a favour."

"So it isn't Casey you're doing this for?" He regretted mentioning the NSA man as soon as the words had left his lips, seeing Max's face tighten and the smile disappear. "Sorry. I think I just put my foot in it again. Seems to be something of a habit."

"It's okay. Sarah said she'd try and make sure he was somewhere else, but she obviously didn't manage it."

"He's nosey."

"He's professional."

"Is … is that how you met?" Chuck asked, needing to talk to try and alleviate his nervousness. Normally he would have played a computer game, or fixed something, but he felt that might be rude.

"Sort of." She turned, the head piece in her hand. "You have to wear this."

"I don't think it's me," he joked. "And it's going to ruin my hair."

"I think we can live with that, don't you?" She advanced on him, and he swallowed hard.

--

"How long does it take?" Casey asked, fidgeting slightly.

"As long as it takes."

"Are all CIA ops trained to be as annoying as possible?"

"I came top of my class."

"That I can believe." He got up to listen at the bedroom door. "They're not saying anything."

"Sit back down!" Sarah said indignantly, following him and hitting him on the pad of muscles in his arm.

"Don't you want to know what's going on?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I just want Chuck to have the best chance possible."

He turned to look at her. "You know they're pushing ahead with the new version, don't you"?

She nodded reluctantly. "Yes."

"And if that happens, if it works and the powers that be decide Chuck isn't needed anymore …"

"Could you?"

"It's my job." He pushed past her back to the living room.

"That's not an answer."

"Best you're going to get."

"So you'd obey orders and kill him."

"It's what I do."

"Obey orders? Oh, I think we all know that," Sarah said witheringly. "Max maybe more than most."

--

"So what's it like?" Max asked. "When you … flash."

"A bit like déjà vu, only worse." He glanced up as best he could at the nodal net sitting snugly on his head. She'd been right. It hadn't hurt. "I suddenly remember things I never knew, only with sounds, smells …I can't really describe it."

"Oh, I think you did a good job." She patted him on the shoulder and adjusted one of the nodes. "Now, just look at the screen." She nodded towards a laptop. "Tell me if anything happens."

"Okey dokey."

--

"Ever have this done to you?" Casey asked, nursing a mug of black coffee.

"Of course. All operatives have psych evaluations."

"Yes, but … what she does."

"You mean going deeper?"

"Mmn."

"Once." Sarah sipped her own mug. "It was a while back."

"After Bryce?"

"No."

He held up a hand. "Only asking. No need to bite my head off."

"Have you?" she asked in turn.

"Coupla times. I was in deep cover, found it hard to come back."

"Before or after Max?"

He glowered at her but answered, "Before. They thought it might make it easier for me if I'd …" He stopped. "You know, I really don't want to talk about it."

"I bet they said you had to."

"Are you going to talk about Bryce?"

"No."

"Then why don't we just enjoy our coffee in silence?"

"Fine."

--

"Nothing."

Max adjusted the strobe. "Now?"

"Nope."

Again a minor correction. "How about now?"

"Not a thing." He sighed. "It's just like with Sarah."

"No, it isn't." She smiled encouragingly. "I detect a lot of activity, particularly with some of the images I've shown you. I think the Intersect is still there, but your connection is out somehow."

"You mean like a bad wire or something?"

"Exactly. If we can figure out what it is …" Her elbow knocked controls, and the strobe began to flash so fast it was almost like a single light. "Oh, sorry." She leaned forward to disconnect it, and a chain fell forward around her neck.

"Whoa." He stared at what appeared to be an engagement ring strung on it.

"Chuck?" Max looked up, suddenly aware of her instruments swinging wildly, registering an enormous increase in brain activity. "Are you flashing on something?" She flipped the switch and the strobe died, leaving just an actinic glow on the back of Chuck's eyeballs. "Are you okay?"

"He left you. At the altar." Chuck looked up into her face. "Casey walked out and left you with nothing but a note."

Max paled. "You saw that?"

"Yes."

She turned away, busied herself, anything but not see the sympathy. "Well, it looks like we found the right frequency. Not one I'd normally use, but –"

"Max. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It wasn't you, and it was a long time ago."

"But you still keep his ring."

Her hand went up involuntarily and touched the gold band. "It's a reminder. Not to be stupid again."

"Is that what it was?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Of course. I fell for a pair of blue eyes and a smile, and had no idea I was just a job to him. It just lets me know not to do it again."

"Max –"

"No, Chuck. I'm not the one here under the microscope." She turned to look at him. "But these readings are really interesting."

"Oh? How?"

"Chuck, are you on any medication?"

"What? Why?" It sounded like he was on the defensive even to his own ears.

She shook her head slightly and sighed. "What are you taking? Is it illegal?"

"No!" He tried to stand up but the cable for the nodal net tripped him and he sat back on the bed. "Do I need this any longer?" he asked, gesturing towards his head.

"No." She lifted it off him and he scratched his scalp. "And answer the question."

He glared at her as much as he could, trying to imitate Casey's intimidating gaze, but obviously falling far short. "I had migraine, all right?"

"When?"

"A month ago. We were busy at the Buy More, I'd had it for nearly a week and I needed to be on top of my game, and … I went to see my doctor."

"Did you tell Sarah?"

"I didn't think I had to."

"Chuck, this could all have been avoided if you had. I'm sure they told you not to take anything they hadn't vetted first."

"It's just headache pills."

"Show me."

He got up and walked into the bathroom, coming back with a small bottle. "The doctor said to take them every day for a month, then only when I needed them."

Max studied the label, then quickly opened up her laptop to the Web. She tapped in the name, and in the blink of the world wide eye she had a list of the ingredients. She stabbed at the screen with a pointed finger. "That's it."

"What?"

"What's stopping you flashing."

"What is it?"

"Nothing much, but obviously important if you're the Intersect."

"I wish everyone'd stop calling me that," he groused. "Sometimes … no, most times I wish I'd never opened that email."

"What, and miss out on all this excitement?" she joked.

"Lead me to it."

There was a banging on the door. "Aren't you finished in there yet?" Casey demanded.

"He hasn't changed," Max sighed.

--

"Sit down!" Sarah ordered.

"Or what?" He jerked his head around to stare at her. "I could take you."

"You could try."

"Maybe we should. Just to see who's –"

"Oh, stop it!" Max was standing in the bedroom doorway, having wrenched the wood almost out of the frame. "Can't you stop behaving like a child for five minutes?"

"She started it!"

Sarah's jaw dropped. "I did not! I wasn't the one trying to break the door down!"

Chuck walked out of his room and glowered at the pair of them. "If you want to fight, can you take it outside? I don't really feel like redecorating."

"Sorry," Sarah said quietly. She looked at Max. "So?"

"You don't need to worry. Chuck is fine."

"How fine?" Casey wanted to know.

"It's all still there," Max assured them. "And in a few days he's going to be back to normal."

"Now that would be something to see."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And how is the job going at the Buy More?" she asked sweetly.

"Salesman of the month." He almost preened, but remembered in time his reputation as a crack field agent. "Someone has to be," he added quickly.

"I'm sure they do."

"So what caused it?" Sarah asked.

Max glanced at Chuck, who looked at her pleadingly. He didn't want the others to know he'd gone against orders. Besides, Casey would never let him live it down if he found out.

"These things happen," Max said eventually, hearing Chuck exhale gratefully. "I've left a small strobe device with him – it'll help clear the blockage."

Sarah smiled widely. "Thanks, Max."

"No problem." She flicked her thumb over her shoulder. "I'd better get packed up." She headed back into the bedroom.

"So?" Casey said, turning on Chuck. "Did you flash?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?"

Chuck put his head down. "Nothing."

"You're lying. You know how I know? You won't look me in the eye." Casey took a step forward. "What did you flash on?"

Chuck had had enough. He was the Intersect, for however long he was needed, and Casey couldn't kill him, not without having to fill out so much paperwork he'd still be sharpening his pencil three years from Christmas. "The ring you gave her," he said, his hands on his hips, staring into the older man's blue eyes. "The engagement ring."

"She's still got it?" Casey blurted out, unable to stop himself.

"On a chain. Around her neck." Chuck suddenly felt sorry for him. "I saw the orders. You had no choice."

"No." Casey turned away, walking to the couch and collapsing onto it. "I didn't."

"Max was too invaluable to the Government, wasn't she? And she was talking about leaving, going home." Chuck followed him and sat opposite. "So they sent you in."

"I was to gain her trust. Make her want to stay." Casey could still see Max, standing on the edge of the ocean, the light in her eyes when she said 'yes'. "In any way possible."

"Did you love her?" Sarah asked, standing behind him, this time not making fun.

"An agent's not allowed to fall for their mark."

Sarah and Chuck looked at each other.

"Of course not." Chuck didn't need to flash to see the answer. "So that's why she didn't leave when you jilted her?"

"It was orders."

"Right."

"And a man in my line of work doesn't deserve someone fine like that."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

"You know, that was the crazy thing," Casey said quietly, ignoring the last comment. "She never had intention of leaving. She always said she had no family anywhere, so this was as much home as any place else." He sat forward, his head dropped between his shoulders, more vulnerable than either of them ever remembered seeing. "She's really still wearing it?" he asked, a low growl in his chest.

"She is."

"You need to apologise," Sarah added. "Just say you're sorry."

"She hates me."

"No, I don't think that's the case," Chuck admitted.

"What would you know?"

"More than I ever dreamed possible."

"Talking of which …" Sarah came round to take Chuck's hand. "You were going to help me … wash my hair."

"What?" He stared at her.

"Remember? You offered." She tugged, and he got to his feet.

"What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "Chuck, we need to go now. Otherwise it won't … dry in time."

"Sarah, are you all right?"

Sighing heavily, she dragged him to his feet. "Out. Now."

"I'm going, I'm going. But I still don't see –" The door closed behind him.

After a few moments Casey stood up, a determined look on his face. He straightened his t-shirt, adjusted his pants, and strode towards the bedroom.

Outside, peering in through the window, Sarah sighed happily. "Better," she murmured, then turned on Chuck. "Do you have to be so useless when it comes to personal issues?"

"What, you mean they're …"

She nodded. "That's right."

"Why didn't you just say?" Chuck complained.

"What, that we needed to give them space?"

"Yes, but … in my room. On my bed." He looked disgusted.

"They're not going to be doing anything," Sarah said, shaking her head at him. "We're just giving them a little room to … see."

"See what?"

"What happens next."

"As long as they take it somewhere else before it gets that far."

She hit him lightly on the arm. "You have no romance in your soul, Charles Bartowski."

He rubbed at it. "It's been beaten out of me."

"That was just a love tap," she said. "So, you're cured?"

"I will be."

"I don't have to report anything to higher up?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"So it was the migraine medicine?" Sarah asked.

Chuck stared at her, his mouth open. "How did you …"

She was enjoying the look of total dumbfoundedness on his face. "I go through your stuff at least once a week. How else do you suppose I keep up with you?"

"You go through … all my stuff?"

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I won't tell Casey about your stack of magazines under the bed."

Chuck blushed bright scarlet.