A/N: Well, it's Christmas time, which means it's time for fluffy holiday stories. Here is mine. KathGrangerPotter, my ever-helpful beta, convinced me it was worth publishing, so if you disagree, well, this is all her fault. And if you like it... it's still her fault. But to make complaining (or complimenting) more convenient, just review and I'll pass all of your thoughts her direction. :)

I don't own Chuck... for now. But Christmas is in a few days, so you never know.

Chapter 1: Blue Christmas

"General, I appreciate the fact that my safety is a high priority. But I've learned to protect myself quite well over the past several months, and I hardly think spending Christmas with my family is dangerous enough that I should require constant supervision."

General Beckman couldn't quite suppress a smile. The man on the other end of the phone was rapidly developing into a brilliant agent. His ability to quickly analyze a variety of problems and almost unerringly find uniquely effective solutions was unmatched, which made him a great asset to the American intelligence community.

It also occasionally made Chuck Bartowski a giant pain in the ass.

"The NSA appreciates the progression of your skills, Mr. Bartowski. But some level of surveillance is still required. And since Colonel Casey is visiting his family over the holidays and the monitoring devices have been removed from your family's home, a secure safehouse is the only option," she explained.

"You got rid of the bugs from Ellie's apartment?" The Intersect's voice was surprised.

"Our budget is not infinite. Since you've been spending most of your time in the field for several months now, we judged that the resources used to watch your family could be better applied elsewhere. Besides," Beckman added, "I seem to recall hearing a request that we… what was it? 'Quit stalking your sister,' I believe."

"I didn't expect you to actually do it!" he exclaimed. "Of all the times for you to actually listen to me…"

"If this was the only subject on which I'd listened to you, there would be another agent on your protective detail, and you could spend Christmas at home," the General reminded her grumpy subordinate.

The answering voice dripped with a fatigue built up from months of repetitive discussion on the same topic. "General, none of the replacements you've sent for Agent Walker have been remotely acceptable, either in the field or in cover life. And you can't pin that assessment solely on me, since you know Casey has agreed in every case."

Beckman did know that. She still regretted the decision to send Agent Forrest to conduct the original 49B; her top female agent's first contact with Bartowski's circle of friends had been as a stripper at his brother-in-law's unfortunately memorable bachelor party, and the asset's family would certainly object to a long-term relationship arising from such cirbumstances. The CIA had a larger pool of candidates, but bringing in one of their agents would require the new CIA director and much of his staff to take on supervisory roles for the mission, and with the threat of the Ring still looming, the General preferred to keep the number of people aware of Project Omaha's details as small as possible.

"I am aware of the Colonel's opinions," Beckman confirmed, "and I have indulged the two of you to this point, because you've both performed admirably despite your team's limited manpower. But that indulgence requires that you be sequestered while your solitary teammate is unavailable."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to explain all that to Ellie, would you? She's going to be crushed. I haven't seen her in over a month, and that includes missing Thanksgiving."

"I will admit that your absence from home is regrettable," Beckman conceded. "But there's nothing that can be done about it."

"You could send them here," Chuck countered. "Devon already knows what I do. And Ellie… we could dress the house up, make it into a special holiday vacation package provided by my new employers. Hell, that wouldn't even be a lie."

She almost caved. More than anyone, Beckman knew just how much the country needed Chuck Bartowski, and she honestly wanted him to be rewarded for his Herculean efforts in its service. But there were plans in motion that would be badly upset by the presence of his family. "Out of the question, I'm afraid."

The General knew what to expect next, and her asset didn't disappoint. "Could you at least give me something to do while I'm under lockdown? Not that it would remotely make up for the absence of my family, but it'd be nice to have my DVD collection here, or a Wii or something."

Glancing down at her watch, Beckman allowed herself a rare chuckle. "Don't worry, Mr. Bartowski. I suspect we can find something to keep you busy during the holidays." As if on cue, she heard the sound of a ringing doorbell on the other end of the phone.

"Please tell me you didn't courier over a giant box of files for my review," Chuck groused. "It's bad enough being kept away from my family. The least you could do is give me a break from…"

Just as she'd expected, his voice trailed off as he saw what awaited him on the other side of the door. The General offered him a final brief salutation before hanging up.

"Merry Christmas, Chuck."