A/N: When I wrote the first draft of this chapter back in October, Sm93Starbuck and htbthomas were awesome with their beta'ing prowess. But now that I'm finally getting ready to post the story, I find that I've lost the beta'd version. And so I post this largely unbeta'd, with the hopes that my own keen eyes will do the trick. I hope you enjoy the finished result.

~*~

The pitch black night shrouded the world, casting shadows even into the lightest, airiest places and lending an aura of chilling mystery to the usually open courtyard. Wind whistled through the trees, so shrill and so high pitched that it drowned out the leaves skittering across the pavement and the thin stream of water trickling into the fountain. The air itself was unlike any the southern Californian computer nerd had grown accustomed to, abnormally frigid to the point of piercing through his thin jacket and into the surface of his skin itself.

Shivering involuntarily, Chuck pulled his arms more firmly about his lanky frame, securing his jacket more tightly around himself. Despite the frosty autumn air and the shrill wind which blew his curls in every direction, he was thankful for the shadows which hid the night. Keeping close to the buiding, he allowed his amateur spy senses to guide him through the courtyard, somehow instinctively knowing that he had to keep quiet. He had to move stealthily, he had to go undetected. Because even though he hadn't seen it yet, even though he had not yet identified the source of the problem causing the prickling of the hair on the back of his neck, he knew it was out there. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name.

Taking two steps forward, he forced himself to remember everything Casey and Sarah had taught him over the course of the last three months. Everything they had instructed him beginning the day after he had downloaded the Intersect 2.0. Everything they had coached him when helping him to learn what it really meant to be a spy. Move slowly, move slyly, but never move as if you're actually trying not to be seen. Never move as if you're trying to escape.

One step forward.

Two steps forward.

Three, four, five steps . . .

Fuck! The sharp snapping sound of a twig, breaking under Chuck's untrained footfall, reverberated through the courtyard, so loudly that Chuck was certain it could be heard even over the howling of the wind. Jumping in spite of his earlier resolve to remain undetected, he bit his lip and frantically checked his surroundings. His eyes scanned the doors to the apartments, the shadows leading into the street, the water as it fell into the pool of the fountain. It was only when it was clear that no one had emerged and everything had gone unchanged that the rapid pounding of his heart slowed to an almost normal rhythm. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against the wall of the complex and regained his composure.

Come on, he thought reproachfully. Don't screw this up.

Truth be told, he had no idea how he had even come this far. He had no idea where his handlers were, or why he hadn't been stopped yet. He fully expected Casey to come barging out of his apartment at any minute, or Sarah . . . Sarah . . .

Folding his lips, he closed his eyes and forced the thoughts from his mind. He had to do this. He had to keep going. He couldn't allow himself to remain when so much was at stake. Nodding his head as if he were silently agreeing with his plan, he took another tentative step toward the opening which would take him out into the street. Another tentative step toward the pathway toward his own longed for freedom.

His shoulders moved up and down in time with his breath, ragged and shallow from nerves. Not for the first time, he wished that he would have a flash. That he would see something, anything, that would allow him to get away undetected. From the moment he had stepped into the bathroom and slid open the window, certain that there would be no cameras in this spot at least, he had hoped for some knowledge that would help him in this escape. From the second he had climbed through the window, the laces of his converses becoming entangled upon the metal frame before he could heave himself through the opening, he had yearned for a flash of material which would show him how to get away from trained hunters who were skilled in targeting their marks.

The problem was, he had never been skilled at getting the Intersect to work simply because he willed it to do so. And as he finally reached the opening, as his converses softly tread the pavement leading out onto the street, he realized that it probably wasn't going to work now. Even so, when he finally left the open courtyard and found himself feet from the Nerd Herder which would help with his escape, he thought for a wild moment that he wouldn't need it. He was so close that he could taste his freedom, and if he made it just a few more feet, he would actually be there.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, he froze in mid-step when the hand clamped down hard upon his mouth.

~*~

Seven Days Before the Escape . . .

"Nadia Tyler," General Beckman said crisply, leaning forward on her elbows. A picture of a woman flickered onto the screen. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, which were narrowed and appeared to be mocking anyone who dared view her picture. "We have reason to believe that she's affiliated with the Ring. In fact, we think she might even be top leadership. I don't think I have to tell you that this could be the break we've been waiting for."

Standing in front of the monitor with her arms crossed over her chest, Sarah shifted her weight from one leg to the other, trying desperately to ignore the curly-haired man standing directly by her side. "How would you like us to proceed, General?" she asked, her tone a little more brusque than intended. Stifling a sigh, she forced her eyes to remain glued to the screen.

"We need more Intel on this woman, Agent Walker," General Beckman returned. "You and the asset will attend the Royal Bash being held Friday night at 0800 hours at the Reeves' mansion in Beverly Hills."

Beside her, Chuck grumbled about the General's inability to remember his name, but Sarah simply gritted her teeth and asked the question now at the forefront of her mind. "What will our cover be?"

"You and the asset will be dating," the General replied, causing Sarah to narrow her eyes slightly and Casey to grunt and smirk. Next to Sarah, Chuck arched a brow and looked at his blonde handler. "Is that a problem?" Beckman inquired sharply, noticing their reactions.

"No problem, General," was Sarah's automatic response, but she shifted her weight once more. This time, she inadvertently leaned away from her lanky asset.

"Very good," Beckman stated briskly. "Then I'll expect a report immediately after the party." And with that, the screen went blank.

The moment the General disappeared from view, Chuck swallowed hard and straightened his shoulders, a hint of resolve sparking within his deep brown eyes. "Sarah," he ventured, turning to face the blonde, "Can we talk?"

The moment the words were spoken, a shadow of vulnerability wafted across Sarah's face, followed almost immediately by a hardening of her features. Nearby, Casey grunted a second time and muttered something about 'lover's spats,' before disappearing into the far corner to polish his guns. But Sarah hardly noticed; she was too busy forcing herself into her professional façade. "It's been a long day, Chuck," she said, her words firm. "We should get some rest if we're going to be ready for the mission."

Biting his lip, Chuck considered Sarah for a long moment. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head; almost see that he wasn't going to give up without a fight. And for a moment, her line of sight drifted to his lower lip, currently imprisoned by his smooth white teeth. This was a mistake. Abruptly, her thoughts returned to the source of the problem, to the incident which broke through her own resolve and reinitiated old emotions.

"Sarah, please," Chuck pleaded, stepping closer to his handler. "I just want to talk."

"Chuck, I already told you," Sarah said, then glanced at Casey and pulled the computer nerd into a far corner. "We can't do this. We can't be together. It's too risky."

"But I don't understand," Chuck replied, his brow furrowing. "I'm training to be a spy now. Everything's different."

Bristling at the mention of his training, Sarah's features hardened still further as she considered his words. As she contemplated the fact that this man, this innocent, gentle individual had suddenly plunged himself headfirst into a world full of lies and espionage. A world which she had constantly wished to escape, a world which she had almost fled before he had downloaded the newest version of the Intersect. Before he had turned their lives upside down. Before he had risked becoming everything she had never wanted him to be.

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said, her tone ringed with utter finality. "It just isn't going to work." And with that, she left him standing against the wall, staring in consternation at her back.

~*~

"Shh," Sarah whispered urgently into his ear, steering him back toward the shadowy wall of the complex. Pushing him almost roughly against the plaster, she kept her hand on his mouth as she turned him to face her. "Chuck, where the hell do you think you're going?" she demanded, her tone harsh even as her blue eyes shined with unspoken emotion. Perhaps realizing her vulnerability, she swallowed and dropped her hand to her side, shutting her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, a thin layer had formed over her unguarded emotion, which was now only slightly perceptible. "You know you're not supposed to leave your apartment tonight," she finished, and even her voice had leveled out.

"And why is that, Sarah?" Chuck replied, his forehead creasing as he stared at her with a gaze so scrutinizing that it almost made her feel as if he could see through her. The sight caused her to shiver inadvertently. "Why the sudden mandate for me to stay in my apartment? The CIA has never gone that far before."

"We've never screwed up this badly before," Sarah returned, thin lines forming around her eyes.

"So I'm suddenly a prisoner in my own apartment?" he countered, shaking his head. "I don't buy it. There's something you're not telling me. There's something else going on here." And even though his words caused her mask to solidify still further, he refused to back down. Because even though they didn't trust him with the truth, he had been working with them for too long to be fooled now. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on, he was pretty sure he knew what Beckman had planned. The very thought caused a pang to pierce his chest, and he kept his firm gaze locked on Sarah's eyes. "What's happening, Sarah?"

Sarah took a deep breath, averting her eyes from his knowing gaze. She had known for some time that Chuck Bartowski had a way of catching her off guard and getting her to reveal things that she should never reveal, which was dangerous in and of itself. But added to that danger was the potential pitfall created when he put his mind to something. Because when Chuck Bartowski put his mind to something – when he devoted all his energy to one goal, one purpose, to the point of refusing to back down – he had a way of getting what he wanted. And that wasn't something she could allow to happen now. "I can't tell you, Chuck," she said, forcing herself to remain detached and neutral. Forcing herself to stay in agent mode, and not let her feelings get the better of her. "I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough, Sarah," he said, and the desperation in his voice caused her heart to freeze. "Please, just tell me what's going on."

Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Chuck," she repeated. "I can't." She opened her mouth to tell him to go back inside, to order him to – well, to follow orders – but he interjected before she could do so.

"Then let me tell you," he said evenly, leaning toward her. "You've been reassigned. You're leaving. And Beckman's seriously considering forcing me into a bunker. In fact," he said, glancing nervously at their surroundings, "she might even have people out here tonight, making sure that we don't do exactly what she's expecting and escape. Am I right?"

Sarah stared at him long and hard, unused to the decisive directness he was employing now. Unused to seeing the conviction in his approach, to hearing the persistence in his voice. Perhaps even longing for the early days in their relationship when he would listen to her, no questions asked. At least then, she could keep him safe. But then, she supposed that he had been faced with this situation once too often. And added to that was the training he had received over the last three months, increasingly aimed at toughening him so that he could fight his own battles. Biting her lip, she finally nodded. "Yes, Chuck," she said. "I'm afraid so."

Chuck's eyes narrowed, and she could almost see the thoughts forming within his mind. But the words he spoke next were so firm yet so quiet that she had to take a moment to absorb them. "Take me with you," he said, his eyes darkening with a determined intensity so powerful that it gave her pause.

Take him with her? Take Chuck on the run again, risk everything that he had worked so hard for, even to the point of taking away his chance for a normal life? So that he could what? End up on trial for treason? After all, he was part of the CIA now. Intentionally downloading the Intersect 2.0 had ensured that much. And disobeying orders would ensure him such a trial."I can't, Chuck," she said, attempting to force every ounce of her strength into the statement. But even as the words emanated from her lips, she could hear the weakness underlying each syllable. And when the resolve grew within his dark gaze, she was pretty certain he could hear it, too.

"I'm not going to obey," he said, taking a firm step in her direction. "Even if they decide not to throw me into a bunker now, I'm still going to end up there. Because if they give me a new handler or, God forbid, a new cover girlfriend, I'm never going to follow orders because the only person I'm ever going to listen to is you. Well," he said, hesitating, "and Casey. Because he's just scary." His lips twitched for a second, but then he came back to himself and the same quiet intensity returned to his eyes. "Please, Sarah," he finished, "Take me with you."

She considered him for what seemed like a long time, but what was probably only a few seconds. His words made sense, his argument was logical. And, she had to admit, the very idea of leaving him behind hurt so badly that it felt as if a knife was twisting within her chest. "But what about Ellie?" she finally said, grasping at straws. "And Morgan? What are they going to do without you?"

"This will just be temporary," he said hastily, a wave of pain flickering within his eyes at the mention of his loved ones. "Until we figure this thing out. Until we fix the mess we created. Maybe then, they'll let us come back home."

Even as he voiced the thought, she heard the distinct uncertainty in his tone. And she knew that he knew: whatever happened next, there was probably no way Beckman would ever let them return. If they left now, this would never be their home again. But just as she was sure of that fact, she was also sure that if she left him now, he would probably end up in a bunker with the exact same result. "Okay," she finally said, feeling a slight thrill accompanied by a twinge of guilt when she saw the flare of hope upon his face. "But we have to leave now."

"I can do that," he said quickly, eager to fall into her plan before she changed her mind.

Pinching her lips together, she nodded sharply and held out her hand so that he could grab hold. Together, they moved quietly away from the building (Chuck's converses echoing a little too loudly as he retreated) and toward her Porsche. But just as her fingers closed around the handle, just as she began to open the passenger side of her car, the last sound she wanted to hear pierced through the raging wind and caused a chill to traverse her spine.

"Freeze!" the CIA agent snapped, emerging from the shadows with raised gun.