Disclaimer—Characters belong to Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes—Because Casey can't really be just a civilian! And because I've never liked Shaw. Unbeta'ed.
Spoilers—Post-Ep for Chuck versus the Final Exam.
In Due Time—Casey and Sarah debrief in the aftermath of Chuck's Red Test.
Chuck Bartowski offered the brunette driver the best possible smile he could. It came out a little crooked but he hoped that translated as endearing. "Just one second," he told her. "Gotta go... pack." Closing the door in her face, he sprinted back towards his bedroom, fumblingly dialing his cell phone as he went.
He'd learned, after years as the Intersect, to always keep a bag ready for short-notice trips like this, but the driver didn't need to know that. "Pick up, buddy, c'mon," he said, crouching near his window and glancing across the courtyard.
"Yeah," answered one gruff, annoyed John Casey.
"Oh, Casey, Casey, thank God. Okay, listen. I can't get through to Sarah and I'm about to be taken to the airport. Can you please, please, please call her for me? Tell her I really need to talk to her..."
"If she's not taking your calls, what makes you think she's going to take mine?"
"Because you're... you're still the Colonel to me. Her, too, I'm sure. Please?"
"If Walker's not answering, I'm sure there's a reason."
"It's probably because she thinks I killed someone. Someone you killed. Casey, I'm desperate here..."
There was an audible sigh. "I'll see what I can do."
Chuck let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relieved. "Thanks, big guy. You're the best."
"Hey, Chuck..."
"Yeah?"
Casey hesitated. "Be careful out there."
"Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Don't worry." Except, Chuck was a little nervous. He rather liked having training wheels, one named Casey and one named Sarah. "Hey, um... You might get a call some day, a real special refrigerator delivery."
"Why's that?" Casey asked.
"Well, 'cause some international billionaire industrialist might need one at his villa in Rome."
Casey grunted. "Get going, Bartowski."
Chuck smiled a little. "Thanks, Casey."
Sarah Walker stared at the pattern on the wallpaper, tears still building in her eyes. She sighed heavily when her cell phone rang yet again.
"You want me to answer it?"
She glanced up at Daniel Shaw as he handed her a glass of water. "No. Thank you," she said. She picked up her cell phone. It was a number she didn't recognize. Sighing, she answered: "Chuck, if that's--"
"Is this the Subway?"
"Pardon?"
"Oh, y'know, the Subway. The one downtown?"
"I'm afraid you've got the wrong number," she said, ending the call. She exhaled, closing her eyes.
Shaw regarded her for a moment. "You sure that wasn't Chuck?"
"Just somebody looking for a restaurant."
"Hm."
She set the water on her nightstand, slowly getting to her feet. "I'm going for a drive."
"Sarah, I'm not sure that's the wisest of ideas. I know you're upset--"
"I need some time to clear my head."
"I'll go with you," he said.
"No. I need to do this by myself."
It wasn't a bad restaurant. But it certainly wasn't the type of place he'd go to wearing a double-breasted, custom-tailored suit ever again. He sat at a booth near the window, watching the cars come and go.
He was still working on his meatball sub when he saw her.
She strolled in, without her watch, purse, or cell phone. After a quick scan of the place, she joined him. "A Subway?"
Casey shrugged. "I was here earlier, got a chance to scope it out. Not a bad place for a meet."
Sarah smiled a little, stealing one of his potato chips.
"Happy birthday, by the way," he said, sliding a white box with a blue bow across the table towards her.
"What's this?" She knew better than to open it in plain view of the few other patrons in the store.
"Returning stolen property. I'll be in enough heat if they find out I completed his Red Test. Don't want anything coming back to bite the kid," he said, taking a sip of his soda.
Sarah lifted the box, feeling the contents shift, analyzing the weight. "How did you take it? Castle's sensors have been reprogrammed..."
He shrugged. "Didn't have to. Chuck walked it outta there himself." He let out what might've been considered a whimper. "I am going to miss that gun, though..."
"In due time, Colonel," she said.
"How are you holding up?" he asked knowingly.
"I still can't prove Shaw's the contact," Sarah said. "The real mole."
"He still thinks he's in control of everything?" asked Casey.
"He's convinced of it. Having you removed from the picture when he wasn't even around... He thinks he's keeping himself above reproach."
"I'm almost done with the surveillance gear in your apartment," he told her. "I'll need some time tomorrow morning to finish up."
"We'll be at Castle at eight. How's Beckman?"
Casey grunted, flashing an eyebrow. "She's still scared of him. She's scared for you. Though, she appreciated the full debrief on the plane last week."
"And Chuck...?"
Casey sat back slightly. "He's dying to talk to you." He glanced at the clock on the wall in the restaurant, as he'd left his watch secure in his Crown Victoria as well. "You've got twenty minutes before takeoff."
She shook her head. "I can't talk to him. Not yet."
"Chuck's a good guy, Walker..."
"I know," she said, glancing down, her eyes watering again. "I know," she repeated.
End.