A/N: Yes, I realize this is somewhat convoluted but so are my thought processes. Linear thinking is the domain of government employees, DMV workers and railroad engineers. To those who feel I'm being unfair to the RatBastard, tough. Unthinking fools ruin too many innocent lives. To me, Bryce was driving drunk and the intersect email to Chuck was his car. While it made for a damned fine TV show, it's too typical of real life. Sorry in advance to all you Brycephiles out there but since someone told me he died on the show I figure I got free rein to mess with him. After all, he is dead. So he shouldn't feel a thing. I promised dcedie I wouldn't be too hard on him – but it's early yet.

And I still don't own Chuck. If I did, things would be different. I do own any of the characters you don't recognize and you can feel free to borrow them provided you put them back when you're done with them. ~A-R-P~


Previously:

As it was, the kiss held her on the brink. A delicious suspension between wanting and having. It was incredible. And then it was gone.

"And you know what, Chuck? It'll be your fault. You will have killed Sarah Walker."

So he had given his Hope to her.



He stopped loving her at 8:17PM PST

Chuck avoided looking at Sarah if she could see him. When they were called to a briefing he didn't take his normal seat between his handlers, he either sat so that Casey was in the middle or stood behind the two agents. He didn't talk much to either of them but Casey was fine with that. In his opinion the guy just babbled too much and actually said damned little.

He stopped seeing Sarah on his breaks. He just didn't have much to say unless it was mission-related. The 'cover' had been their point in common and now it was gone. He missed her, even when she was right there in front of him, he still missed her. When he did look at her, he memorized every one of her features because it was only a matter of time until she requested reassignment and all he'd have left were memorized images.

There was no point in an Agent of her quality and ability babysitting a Nerd Asset. It was just a matter of time until she chafed at her constraints and went back to the spy world, probably partnered with Bryce. He suspected she missed Bryce more than she let on. Apparently he wasn't the only one pining for a lost love.

Casey could handle the job just fine. Hell, he'd offered to automate his surveillance system so Casey could trim his precious Bonsais or do whatever it was he did when he wasn't terrorizing customers or him.

4:00PM PST

"And so SigInt has tracked and deciphered message bursts to the pirates in Somalia, along the Gulf of Aden and also to the Sulu Straits. The messages originate from an area along the loading docks for containerized shipping on Treasure Island. A list of containers with high-value cargo and the ships carrying them are being transmitted nightly. Since the shipping schedules are published in the Journal of Commerce, it doesn't take a spy to read it. It does, however, take an accomplished group to locate high-value cargo and the ships carrying it. Your task is to conduct surveillance on the container area and see if Mr. Bartowski flashes on either cargo or personnel."

"Both the Coast Guard and US Customs Service will be in reserve awaiting your information. They will handle the detention or arrests. Your job is simply to locate and identify the people providing the information and inform the authorities."

"Use extreme caution. High-value cargoes mean higher ransom demands. There is a lot of money flowing and the factions providing the information will not take kindly to any disruptions. Deadly force is authorized. Beckman out."


"Well, Chuck, looks like it's Showtime for the Intersect! Walker, let's get geared up. We'll leave here about 6pm. No gunplay unless it can't be avoided. Chuck, you'll have to take a walk around with one of us while the other provides overhead cover. I don't like the turf but don't have much choice. We'll take the Suburban and as much firepower as we can. Never hurts to be prepared."

The potential of gunplay was like catnip to Casey. Chuck thought he looked younger and almost…yeah…happy when he was offered the opportunity to discharge a firearm, blow something up or, better yet, discharging his firearm while blowing something up that killed some body.

Sarah left to change clothes and select her weaponry from the armory. Casey signaled Chuck to stay put and he went back to talk to her.

"Ok, something's up with you. You didn't have any comments during the briefing and there are enough holes in the Op Order to drive through. You sure you're focused?"

She whirled on Casey. "Major Casey, if you have any problems with my performance either in the past or if you suspect any in the future, let's get it out and settled before we get into the shit." She was seething. How dare he question her professionalism. She'd been doing that enough lately herself.

"It's Chuck, isn't it? It's finally come to a head. This whole cover-no cover thing. Why don't you just confront him with the whole story, the Bryce thing, how you feel. You aren't doing him or yourself any favors. It's killing you and he's not exactly the picture of emotional health either."

She started to object. She had that furrow between her eyes meaning she was about to do some damage. His next words stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I can't do this alone, I need to know my partner has got my back. And you won't be there if you don't get this straightened out. I won't be able to trust you. And you won't be able to trust yourself, either. And worse, Chuck won't be able to depend on his teammates."

"Don't worry about me, Major Casey. After this op is in the bag, I'm requesting reassignment. I can't do this anymore."

He just stared at her, anger building behind stormy eyes. "Going to run back to a comfort zone you can handle? Going back to someone you can relate to, like Bryce? Figures. Go ahead, leave. I'll pick up whatever pieces are left. But you will tell Chuck. What you tell him is your business. You could try the truth if the spy in you has the guts."

He left her standing there in the armory. She didn't understand how it had all come to this point. She knew she sucked at relationships. She knew that this thing with Chuck was the Real Thing, not a mere physical 'relationship' as she had had with the RatBastard, but an intimate personal relationship, deeply committed to by Chuck.

The reason she had missed the 'holes you could drive through' was that her mind was trying to wrap itself around the need to finally tell Chuck how she felt and the need to preserve her identity as a CIA Agent. She was afraid that she would lose herself in any relationship with Chuck Bartowski. And that would mean she would be a liability, a hostage, a risk to his well-being and she couldn't have that and protect him.

She knew that protecting Chuck meant sometimes hurting him emotionally in the short run and she knew that it would make any relationship incredibly difficult with a high probability of failure. Still, she was prepared to risk it all but couldn't figure out how to counter the RatBastard's attack on Chuck's fear of being the cause of her death. She just couldn't come out and say, "Chuck, I won't die protecting you" with any assurance because she knew, in her innermost heart, that she would die to protect him. And that would damn him beyond redemption.

She had limited options in her mind. She couldn't stay and love him openly and without reservation as he deserved and still be his handler. She would be reassigned in a New York minute and forbidden to communicate with the asset so long as she was an Active Agent.

She wouldn't sneak around. Chuck deserved better than that. She was pretty sure Casey would be Ok with it as long as it didn't get in the way of mission success but the Bitch General would defecate a polygon of fecal matter and jerk Chuck underground and her to Diego Garcia before the flies landed.

Or she could leave, fulfill her contract obligation and hope she could escape an early demise by walking away from it all and find Chuck and see if he still felt the same way. She had 3 years remaining on her contract. She could stay here as long as possible tormenting Chuck or she could leave and take her chances on True Love finding a way. She was a realist, not a romantic. She knew the odds were incredibly against her ever being with Chuck, but in her mind it was the only way. There was no one else for her, not now, not ever.

So when Casey confronted her, she made her decision and announcement. She'd roll the dice and trust in the power of True Love.


"Chuck, you need some coveralls or fatigues. Can't go crawling around the docks in your BuyMore duds. I'll see what we have that'll fit you… come on. Won't take a moment." And he led Chuck to another area and started outfitting his charge. Chuck was wary of this new, user-friendly Casey. He wondered when the other shoe was going to drop on his head. Or when Casey was going to act on some future order and put a bullet in the back of his neck.

7:17PM PST

Containerized Loading/Unloading Facility

Treasure Island, CA

They pulled off the freeway onto Treasure Island. Chuck had always liked the majesty of the Treasure Island Bridge. When he was younger his dad had brought him down here once to watch them bring the Queen Mary into Long Beach Harbor. It was something he'd never forgotten. The bridge brought back those memories of happier times. He shivered. But it had been summer then. And February on the water was cold and damp. He was glad Casey had suggested the jacket. He would gladly put up with the weight in exchange for its warmth.

They passed through security, manned by US Navy Shore Police for this night in particular. No one knew who among the civilian staff might be working with the pirate cartel and so they'd used the excuse of an "exercise" to man the gates with trustworthy personnel.

It took another 15 minutes to locate the general area where the containers with the designated cargoes were located. Casey did not like the fact that overhead cranes ran the entire length of the wharf and would provide snipers and spotters a birds' eye view of the area – and of them.

It had been decided before they left that Casey would provide overhead cover from one of the cranes while Chuck and Sarah strolled among the containers, clipboards in hand, looking like official inspectors. It had been Chuck's idea.

"No one ever questions someone with a clipboard. They figure they belong. The clipboard is a great cover for skulking around looking for bad guys. We can always go up to a group and ask for location such and such and I'll be able to flash on any bad guys. Piece of cake."

Even Casey had been impressed. "Not bad, Bartowski. You're right no one questions he who wields the clipboard." That brought a smile to Sarah's face. She'd have to remember that for when… and she stopped. 'Yeah, for after you've left HIM' said that damned little voice in the back of her head.

"Ok, I'm going up… there" pointing to a crane, "and you two just look like you know what you're doing over there" pointing to a general area on the facility map they'd obtained. "Keep in touch. Be careful. And Chuck, don't do anything dumb, please? I have plans for the weekend." That brought a brief smile to Chuck's face but it quickly faded when he saw that Sarah had already turned and walked toward the target area.

It was getting to be that time of day when your perspective changed as eyes adapted to the coming night. The mercury vapor lights buzzed and threw shadows between the double and sometimes triple-stacked containers. They'd already scoped out several groups of workers hooking up or disconnecting the containers to cranes without any flashes. Not a word had been exchanged between the two. Sarah just pointed in the direction she wanted to go and Chuck followed. 'Here, puppy puppy' he thought unkindly.

8:10PM PST

Containerized Loading/Unloading Facility

Treasure Island, CA

They had just come to an intersection between concentrations of containers and Sarah had stopped to talk to Casey briefly on her cuff mike. Chuck turned around at some noise and flashed on two men coming out from between two rows of triple-stacked containers. Abu ibn Faud, connected to Al Queda and Kenzi Matalaki, an Indonesian national with connections to the International Piracy Monitoring Center in Singapore. So much for monitoring. He was supplying them with information.

He turned and grabbed Sarah by the elbow and led her down one of the paths between the stacks. "I just flashed…" and filled her in on the identities and connections of the two men. She grunted and said, "stay here, I'll contact Casey and he can alert the Customs and Coast Guard. Pretend to be checking shipping containers against the manifests. But. Stay. Here."

She stepped out into the corridor between the stacks and called Casey through her cuff mike. The signal was being blocked by a combination of the interference from the mercury vapor lights and the height of the container stacks. She'd have to find a more open space to reach him.

Meanwhile, Casey had lost sight of his teammates. He had oversight until they turned down a corridor that ran perpendicular to his line of sight. He tried contacting her on his walkie but the interference of the lights made it hard to know if he had made contact since he couldn't hear squat over the static. Frustrated, he fast roped down and headed for the last known position of his teammates on foot.

Chuck did as he was told. Sort of. He pulled a mini-maglight from his jacket pocket, lit it and started checking containers. He reached the end of the row and stepped out to locate Sarah. He turned to his right and saw Abu ibn Faud preparing to shoot Sarah in the back from a distance of less than 10 feet as she tried to contact Casey.

"Sarah, behind you!" Chuck shouted as he ran towards the gunman. He wasn't armed and had no idea in hell what he was going to do but doing nothing while the woman he loved was gunned down was not an option. Faud spun around and fired 3 shots hitting Chuck with all three. The first round stopped his forward motion. The second made him stand upright and the third round grazed his scalp, creating a nice straight 9mm furrow but knocked him back onto the asphalt, his head striking the asphalt with a sound like a cantaloupe makes when it falls onto the kitchen floor and splits open. Head wounds are notorious bleeders and this one was no exception.

Faud turned to shoot Sarah Walker but was shot 8 times before completing his turn. That was the magazine capacity of the .45 Caliber M1911 she wielded with deadly accuracy.

"Chuck! Oh my God, Chuck!" She ran to him, hugged him to her and began to sob her heart out uncaring that the other man was still out there and probably armed as well. She no longer cared.

It was 8:17PM PST He stopped loving her.

Casey heard the shots, a group of 3 followed by a rapid group of 8. Walker's cannon! As he ran toward the sound of the shots he almost bowled over a small man holding a pistol, cowering in the shadows of the container stacks. Casey shot him as he ran by. He'd clean up later, he told himself. He needed to check on his team.

Casey followed the sound of the sobbing. He turned a corner and saw Sarah Walker rocking the body of Chuck Bartowski, crooning nonsense syllables between sobs. Oh, shit. He took in the blood on her hands and the entire side of Chuck's head.

"Walker, are you hurt? Sarah?" She looked up at him and mumbled something about "I told him to stay there and I'd come back for him". Nothing made sense. Where was he hit? Where was blood coming from?

He changed freqs on his walkie to the Customs channel. "Agent down, sector 5D, Agent down."

8:19PM PST He started loving her again.

"OH SHIT! THAT HURT!" but what came out was o..sh…urt… so softly that at first she didn't hear him over her own voice. "Chuck, why didn't you listen to me? Why? I can't do this anymore. I can't love you and protect you at the same time. Why didn't you stay where it was safe? Look at you."

"Thaaaats jus' wond'ful, Sra, but cud you stop with the rockin? Mak..me..sic…an muh head…" He could hardly breathe. His chest felt like a bus had run over him. Shit, how could something so tiny hurt so damned much? And it felt like someone set fire to a narrow section of his head. And his vision was blurring and the side of his head really ached.

Major John Casey had a grin that split his face from ear to ear. And he began to laugh, leaning against a container for support. No one who had ever known or would ever know John Casey would believe that he could laugh like a normal human being. No one – ever.

"Walker, Chuck's wearing a vest. I made him wear a vest. I just had a feeling he'd do something heroically stupid if you got into trouble and by God I was right…" and he continued to laugh, bending over at the waist and finally dropping to his hands and knees, totally ignoring his teammates.

Sarah Walker's face lost all expression. Her eyes closed. She stopped rocking the Asset. She still held him tightly to her, her arms around him as if to release him was to lose him. Within her mind an internal battle was being waged over the fate of Charles Irving Bartowski and Sarah Walker as a couple.

'I'm going to kill him for not listening to me. Then I'm going to hire a voodoo witch doctor and bring him back to life and kill him again. And then, just to teach him a lesson I'm going to leave him and go back to that RatBastard Bryce and have wild meaningless sex, why won't he listen to me?' That was from Very Angry Sarah the CIA Agent. Violence was her answer to any problem. When you're a hammer, every problem was a nail.

'I'm going to quit this business. I'm going to kidnap the Asset and steal away to some deserted island and spend the rest of our days naked and screwing each other happily ever after.' That from Romantic Sarah who secretly read those trashy Harlequin novels Chuck had found in her nightstand and she said were left by the previous guest.

'I'm going to talk to Beckman. Ask for a permanent assignment. I can't do this anymore. I am hopelessly compromised and I almost lost him. If Casey hadn't made him wear a vest he'd be gone and it would have been my fault.' This was from practical Sarah. And she always won these arguments.


The Next Morning After-Action Briefing with General Beckman

"Agent Walker, I have reviewed your request you emailed me last night. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want? This is not a temporary change. No going back. No opportunity to change your mind once it's instituted."

"Sarah, are you sure this is what you want?" Beckman looked at her over her glasses.

"Yes, ma'am. It's the only decision I could reach given the options available. It's what I want."

"Very well. Approved. Report to my office for debriefing and reassignment familiarization tomorrow at 9am. Beckman out."

Casey just stared at her. "You didn't think to discuss this with me, your partner? You didn't think to discuss it with Chuck?"

"My decision. My choice. My life and career. Chuck doesn't enter into it. I'm doing what you wanted, I…'"

"That's cold, Walker, even for a CIA agent." And he left her. He was thoroughly disgusted. What would he tell Bartowski? Once the kid was off the joy juice he'd notice his blonde handler was… missing. Damn her. Probably going back to that PrettyBoyToy Bryce Larkin. May they both have to endure the miseries of the Gonaherpasyphylaids STD. It was the worst curse he could imagine. And right now he had a very fertile imagination.

Two days later

Cedar-Sinai Medical Center

"She's gone, Bartowski. We had a briefing with Beckman the morning after you were shot. She asked for reassignment. I'm getting another partner to break in and you're getting another handler. A woman again. So you might want to rethink the cover business. I don't know if this one will agree to your 'outside' affairs." Casey was worried about Chuck. The kid seemed too calm. He hadn't even asked where Walker was. Casey had to bring it up. He wasn't getting upset. He wasn't gnashing his teeth or rending his garments. What did they have him on anyways?

"When do I get out of here, Casey? That doctor you guys conjured up from inner-most circle of Hell won't say a word, won't discuss my case with me because it's FUCKING CLASSIFIED!"

Casey kind of smiled. Ok, maybe it was the bad burrito he had for lunch.

"A few days at most. You cracked that thick geek skull of yours when you hit the pavement. They don't want what shit you call brains leaking out all over L.A. and them getting sued. Or killed by the government. As for your case, I'm surprised the doctor even looked at you. Beckman had a private briefing with him and scared the crap out of him. So, changing the subject. What did you tell Ellie? I don't see flowers or a crying sister fussing over you. What's up with that?"

Casey couldn't believe he was having a normal conversation with Bartowski. Maybe the kid was getting to him. Maybe he should ask for reassignment too. Before he was warped and voted [shudder] Democratic.

"I haven't talked to Ellie. I don't know if she even knows about it. I've been in La-La-land until this morning. She still thinks Sar… Walker will get back together with me. She adored Sarah. But that's too bad, Casey. You and I both know it's not going to happen. I thought she was Ms. Right, maybe so, but apparently I was just her Mr. Right Now. Something to amuse herself with while she marked time here in L.A. waiting for a better assignment."

Casey heard the reference to his former handler. And also the comment about Walker and "Mr. Right Now". Maybe he was growing up. A kid would not have done what he'd done on Treasure Island. He didn't know that many men who would.

"Well, your ass is covered at the BuyMore. Beckman had her trolls hack into Corporate and have you on special training. So you get 10 days off with pay. You should thank the General next time you talk to her."

"Casey, I've been thinking. Maybe you should show me how to use a weapon, y'know, the right way so I'm not such a liability for the next addition to the team. At least consider it. Oh, yeah, thanks for making me wear the vest. But man, a broken rib and I was wearing a vest. Must not have done its job well."

"Kiddo, I'll train you. But I warn you, you're not carrying a weapon without Beckman's Ok. As for the vest, it did its job. You got no holes in you even from a bullet fired from point blank range. That's what it's for. It's bullet proof, not fool proof."

They shared a laugh over that comment. Casey was definitely loosening up. Maybe things would be ok now with the new team member. May be not. Who knew? Who cared?

Casey could see that Chuck was getting tired. "Well, Bartowski, some of us have sales goals to achieve. I'll be by to take you home when you're released. Use the time wisely. Come up with a really good excuse to explain the new part in your hair to Ellie." And he left, chuckling over his own joke.


A/N: I think I like this Casey better than the show's. No one could be that much of a prick in real life. They should have cast him as the Janitor in 'Scrubs'. The character of Sarah, at least through the Xmas show was plastic, nicely wrapped plastic, but still plastic. Her character needs some meat on her bones that can't be done in a one-hour show as one of my reviewers pointed out insightfully.

Patience, Waffleman, patience. Never run when you can walk, never walk when you can sit, never sit when you can lie down, and never lie down unless you sleep. I learned the mantra as an intfantryman. Take heed, o' purveyor of corrugated pancakes.

~Armor-Plated-Rat~