Boy, are there a whole lot of things involved in this story that I don't own. "Chuck," about 20-odd different movies, and the common sense not to actual write this are just a few of them.

From Burbank With Love

Prologue

"Hey, Ellie."

Stepping inside the house, Chuck's sister glanced around with her usual look of amused disappointment. Ellie didn't say anything though; as much as she'd hoped that cohabitating with a woman would have improved his decorating sense, she'd come to accept defeat. Instead she walked over to the living room, a spiral notebook in her hands.

"So what's up?" Chuck asked, once his sister had made herself comfortable.

"The other day, Mom dropped off some stuff," Ellie replied. "Some of dad's things."

"Really?" Chuck said in surprise. As far as he'd been able to tell, Stephen Bartowski had owned nothing that wasn't directly related to surveillance, technology, and his copious notes about the government, spying, and Mary Bartowski.

"I know, I was surprised too. But there were photo albums, his old record collection…" Ellie rolled her eyes. They could both remember their father's fondness for Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. "A whole bunch of stuff. I've gone through a lot of it, but I'm not quite done yet."

Chuck nodded. Being home with a newborn with a near pathological aversion to sleep doesn't give one a whole lot of spare time.

"Then there's this." Ellie handed the notebook to Chuck.

"What is it?" Chuck asked curiously.

"I don't know. I only looked at the first page, but I think it's spy-related. I figured you might want to give it to Sarah, so she can turn it in to whoever should have it."

"Oh." Chuck wasn't sure what to think. His father wasn't the type to leave anything important lying around. Normally, anything would go through a shredder, with the remnants (and the shredder itself) incinerated afterwards.

He flipped through a page or two. It certainly did seem spy-related, though he didn't seem to recognize the names listed. Rather than the usual semi-encoded notes that Chuck had previously read from his father's records, this seemed different, almost flowery.

Chuck didn't recognize any of the names in the book at first, but then he felt the familiar rush hit his head like a tractor-trailer. Rather than visualizingCIAdocuments, though, all he saw was a different name. One he recognized.

"Are you ok?" he heard Ellie ask.

"Yeah," he reassured her, realizing a flash must look strange to her. "Late night at the Buy More. I don't know if these notes are important," he finally said, "but I'll see what I can do."

"Good," Ellie said. "I figured it wasn't for me, and I know you're better at keeping secrets than I am."

Chuck raised an eyebrow at the mild rebuke, and Ellie looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Chuck, I didn't mean that. I'm just tired. Clara woke me up three times last night."

"It's ok, Ellie," Chuck gave his sister a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Ellie stood up. "Well I have to get back to 's got to leave for the hospital for a few minutes, so my break's over. Come by and see the pictures when you get the chance, huh?" She gave Chuck a hug, and headed back to her bungalow.

Once Ellie had gone, Chuck walked into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. Sarah had gone in for an early meeting, and Morgan was still asleep, so the place was quiet. He figured he'd at least have time to peruse the first few pages. Sitting down at the table, he flipped through the notebook.

As he continued reading, he'd occasionally feel another flash, revealing a real name behind the one his father had written on the page. He wasn't surprised that his father would go to great lengths for secrecy. That was who Stephen Bartowski was. He just wasn't sure why he'd put some sort of 'decoder ring' for the names in the Intersect. Somehow the story must be important.

Chuck decided that he would have to continue studying his father's tale. After awhile, the flashes began to lessen, and he immediately began to see the actual names rather than the ones on the page. The more he read, the more drawn in to his father's words he became. Eventually, he looked up at the counter. He was going to need another pot of coffee.