P/N: Here's part three…really hope that you've all been enjoying this read. This is all I have of this story and I'm not sure if there's any more. If I find anymore, I will of course post it. Thanks again to Oldestman and gtpse. Once again, if any of you have any of APR's older stuff that isn't posted in his current account, I would definitely love to have a copy and I'll make sure it gets added to his account. I have an unfinished and unpolished story of Jim's titled 'Separate Lies, Separate Lies' and I'm debating about posting what I have. The story is rough and contains bits and pieces that ended up in Kappa, The Game, Slip of The Tongue and even a reference in GEG. If anyone's interested in seeing it, let me know. JT

A/N: As promised. Some of you will be upset and others thrilled and a fairly large percentage of you will not even finish it but that's ok because…it just is. Now, read dialogue carefully and note how the whole thing now wraps around like a Mobeus Strip. If you don't know what it is, it's a plane shape with only ONE side. Make your own. Take a piece of tablet paper and cut an inch wide strip off the long way so you have a 1" x 11" strip of paper. Take one end and twist it 180 degrees then tape it to the other end. Take a pen or pencil and draw a line over the surface. It's got one side. And so does this plot.

It's not as long as the other chapters but my other life keeps demanding my time.

Time's running out and I have to finish the GEG and Pandora… so many women and so little time left…lol

Armor Plated Rat

'He was standing in his high mountain pass feeling the cold from the winds and the crunching snow under his boots. His ice axe dangled from one wrist and he adjusted his goggles enjoying the scene as the sun's terminator line raced across the glacier that melted into the lake in the valley below. Slowly and carefully he started his descent carefully picking out the path across the glacier to the waiting tree line. From there he would be able to see the lakeshore. He was finally going home…'

4 Hours After the Gunshot in Chapter 2

Dr. Lila Bloom walked out of the mini operating room in the dispensary pulling off her latex gloves and placing them in the hazardous waste container followed by her blood-stained operating gown.

"I tied off the major bleeder and stitched him up, General. Son of a bitch but that was a close one. I thought for sure it had all gone to hell in a hand basket. If he'd made the connection seconds earlier I'd be dead right now and you'd be trying to explain to the Chief how it never happened."

"Thank God he was with you, Lila. If he'd been alone I shudder to think what might have happened. What we might have lost. All that time invested in him, lost."

"I knew he was going down to rent a car so I shot him up with enough juice to make an elephant wig out and offered him a ride. Now we'll just drop him in the tank and do a little reality adjustment and he'll be good as new."

"Only fly in the ointment is that Walker was on the phone and she knows what went down. I couldn't stop him from drawing his weapon. He wasn't going to use it on himself. He was going to kill me! I saw recognition on his face when he heard her voice on the cell phone saying what I said when he'd been tanked. I had no choice, General. Sometimes the Chief is scary smart."

"I know and there's no way to keep her from flying here to be by his side. I'll have the travel unit cut her tickets so she'll incur every possible delay but we'll have to move quickly. Get him back into the conditioning cycle. He has to be ready by the time she arrives. She's the best operative the CIA had so make sure it's done thoroughly and correctly."

"No slip ups this time, Dr. Bloom. No personal agendas. Find another potential 'mate', Lila. This one is definitely off the market."

"How long will it be before he's operational, doctor?" Beckman was anxious to have her #1 team in the field again. The replacements were easy to find. A leader with the innate skills and almost uncanny ability to pull off miracles in the field were rare and Chief was the only one of his kind in her organization. She knew that every time he went active she was risking the Intersect but there were greater rewards waiting for the bold.

"As I told you, the cycle will take 45 days but probably a full 60 now with this set back. We could have kept him isolated for the full 45 days if he hadn't been so damned stubborn and willful. Too many people knew he was going on med leave to have just detained him in the conditioning wing."

"I have to call Walker. It's been 2 hours since my last 'update' on his condition. I'm surprised she hasn't chartered a plane or started driving to DC. Put him in the tank and get him lucid and functional, even if it's only marginally so. Prime him and we'll see about getting him a full-time babysitter. I'll offer Walker the protective slot again as an inducement and 'ask' her to return."

Unknown Place/Time

Pain. Nothing else. No sense of heat or cold or weight, or light or the passage of time, just the pain. And it burned and soon became the center of his universe. It was the only sense he seemed to have left, pain.

He was in Hell and he screamed but made no sound.

The voice started minutes, hours, days later. He had no concept of time, just the pain.

"You were in pain, Chuck. You are always in pain. Your back, your face and eyes hurt constantly. Your soul hurts. You know you are weak, Chuck. You don't deserve her. The pistol was the answer to your pain, your agony. Pulling the trigger was so easy but you couldn't even do that right, could you, Chuck. You need Sarah, Chuck, Sarah. The woman you abandoned to die can save you now, Chuck. But you have to beg her because you've hurt her so badly."

He feels something cool spread slowly throughout his being and the pain seems to fade driven back down to manageable levels.

The voice continued it's lulling litany always repeating the same message until finally the pain begins to rise again and the voice fades, disappearing in the blazing heat of the pain.

"Emotional ties destroy team unity. Your team is your life. You only need the team. You only need the team and Sarah, Chief. Carina says she loves you but she doesn't. Carina will betray you but not Sarah. Carina will leave you, Chief, just like Robin Thorne did but not Sarah. She is your constant. The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that. She will not leave you. She will not fail you. When Fulcrum falls you'll all be free."

Again he feels the blessed cool begin to spread and the pain abates but does not totally disappear.

Emotion clouds reason and results in poor decisions. Poor decisions make for dead agents. Dead agents make for a failed mission. Mission failure is unacceptable. The mission must come first. Protect the team, accomplish the mission. Nothing else matters. You do not matter. Only the mission matters.

He thinks he feels another wave of cool relief dousing the fiery pain and he hears 'you need Sarah, Chief, Sarah, You need Sarah, Sarah.

The pain is gone. She brings the cool relief and release. The pain is gone.

NSA Medical Dispensary

Restricted Treatment Center

(Caution: Biohazard Area Protective Clothing Required)

Lila Bloom took off her lab coat and stretched to loosen muscles grown tight bending over an operating table. Bartowski had required more time than she's planned on to find the bleeder and tie it off and then the time-consuming removal of all the bits and pieces of damaged tissue. The stitching went quickly and her deft and sure strokes would ensure minimal scaring. Leaving the surgical nurse to apply the post-operative dressings, she'd taken a break and discussed their situation with the General.

She watched the various monitoring devices to ensure the patient's well being and then turned on the monitor to listen to the recording being repeated over and over to the unconscious man floating in the 'tank'.

"You were in pain, Chuck. You are always in pain. Your back and eyes hurt constantly. Your soul hurts. You know you are weak, Chuck. You don't deserve her. The pistol was the answer to your pain, your agony. Pulling the trigger was so easy but you couldn't even do that right, could you, Chuck. You need Sarah, Chuck, Sarah. The woman you abandoned to die can save you now, Chuck. But you have to beg her because you've hurt her so badly."

It went through several cycles and then switched to the 'conditioning' set.

"Emotional ties destroy team unity. Your team is your life. You only need the team. You only need the team and Sarah, Chief. Carina says she loves you but she doesn't. Carina will betray you but not Sarah. Carina will leave you, Chief, just like Robin Thorne did but not Sarah. She is your constant. The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that. She will not leave you. She will not fail you. When Fulcrum falls you'll all be free."

That nonsense repeated itself ad nauseum but surprisingly it was effective. Bartowski had severed all his emotional ties, Walker, his sister and John Casey and he really believed his mantra. Anything not approved would cause the mission to fail. This was backed up by cyclical repetition in the 'tank'.

Bartowski feared abandonment by those he loved and depended on. It fed that irrational fear. It told him he was strong by preempting their leaving. "Send them away. Keep them away. Keep them safe. Avoid all contact. They are a liability. Send them away before they leave you, Chief. Continue the mission. Remember the mission. Liabilities are potential weaknesses to be exploited by an enemy. Liabilities equal mission failure and are unacceptable. You must not fail so you must not have liabilities."

If you tell someone something enough it becomes their truth. Hide the lie between two truths and it becomes truth.

Twenty-four hours in the tank would overcome any resistance to the constant mantra and suggestions augmented by pain and relieved by the potential presence of Sarah Walker in the form of a very small dose of Demerol and muscle relaxants.

He'd been a difficult subject initially but the electro-shocks to his back muscles provided the pain and the muscle relaxants and their timed release provided the cool relief. Repetition brought proper conditioning and attitude and he and his fellow subjects would be willing participants in the Spear Team Project.

6 Hours after the Gunshot in Chapter 2

"Walker, secure."

"Beckman, secure. Sarah, pack your bags and pick up your ticket at LAX. He needs you, Sarah. He's stabilized and it looks like this was all a medically-induced crash. He's either allergic to the medications he's been receiving to restore his immune system or there's some interaction between the meds and the pain pills he started taking for his back and eyes. Bloom is running a full tox screen on him now that's he's out of surgery and stable and we'll have the answer and solution before you arrive."

"Thank you, General. I was uncertain about the situation. How – how is he?"

"Sedated and in restraints. He's too damned clever for his own good and dangerous to boot. Bloom has repaired the damage to his face and it should leave minimal scaring. He broke the arm of an EMT and the jaw of another when our Emergency Response Unit arrived on the scene. Sarah. I don't know 'where he was' but it wasn't a pleasant place. Perhaps the glacier or maybe the packing plant."

"I'll have someone meet your plane, Sarah. Please hurry. And please reconsider the position as his Protective Services bodyguard. Lord knows he gets into enough trouble on missions and he needs a full-time protector."

Sarah would not have accepted the position nor thanked General Beckman so effusively had she seen the look on her face at that moment. She would have killed her.

2 Days Later

BWI Airport, Baltimore MD

Lila Bloom had been waiting for Sarah Walker's flight for the past hour only to find it had been delayed in Pittsburgh due to weather over the Alleghenies. 'Well, Beckman can't take credit for this delay, just the incredible number she'd already had thrown in the path of Sarah Walker's flight from Los Angeles to Washington and she's been rerouted here instead of Reagan International in DC'.

The first delay had occurred in Los Angeles when all departing flights had been held on the tarmac for 4 hours while airport officials waited for the traffic control system to be rebooted. The second delay was in Los Angeles as well when the pilot announced they were returning to the jet way to disembark passengers and transfer to another aircraft that was being prepped. It seems that #4 turbofan was performing sub-optimally and overheating.

Eight hours after arriving at LAX, she finally departed. Finally. The plane diverted to Denver to discharge a passenger who apparently had developed a hot appendix and a doctor onboard cautioned the airline that civil litigation would certainly be forthcoming if the passenger were not immediately taken to a hospital. Another 4 hours lost to landing, refueling and departure only to incur an abort when a machinists wildcat strike halted all flights until airline officials could reach a settlement. The unionized pilots would not fly while their brethren were on strike as a sign of solidarity.

She spent the night at the Airport Marriott and finally caught her flight at 7am only to be delayed in Pittsburgh due to weather.

She finally deplaned and was met by Dr. Bloom a full 30 hours after leaving LA.

"Lila, how is he?"

"Hello, Sarah, how are you?" She laughed and tried to lighten the moment.

"I'm homicidal so cut the cute act and answer my damned question." She was in no mood for joking. No one would take her calls last evening and she was intensely worried about Chuck.

"He's stable and improving. We've identified the conflicting drugs and have changed his meds without any problems. I've also shot him up with some leaching agents to purge the old drugs totally from his system. That will take a week at the most. He's ready, medically, for discharge but not duty, Sarah. He's still mentally shaken and your arrival is contributing immensely to it."

"What? Why?" That stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I told him you were coming, Sarah. He had a panic attack. He's terrified of your reaction. He sent you away, Sarah, for the best of reasons, to keep you safe. He's refused all contact but he's in trouble and he sees this as a failure. He doesn't want you here, Sarah, because he's ashamed of what happened and his weakness. He sees this as further proof that he can't keep you safe and that keeping you at arms' length is the only way to keep you safe."

"That's crap. After all he's been through. And it's a medical problem. He's not suicidal, you said so yourself. It was the conflicting meds, that's what you said."

"Yes, but he was on the brink, Sarah. He totally lost it on his last mission. He had to eliminate a Fulcrum agent in a firefight to save one of his men. He disassociated after pulling his teammate to safety and thought he'd killed you. Talk to Hansen before you see him. She can explain what happened much better than I can. I'm a doctor and the after-action briefings are so full of jargon and so much is 'censored' on a need-to-know basis that I can't really get a good picture of what happened."

In point of fact, Lila Bloom knew exactly what had happened. Chuck Bartowski was not a hardened killer. He was, at heart, a gentle soul, more at home in an academic setting than running around Fulcrum Hives leading a bunch of people who were hardened killers. His sharp mind and access to the Intersect almost ensured a successful outcome of every action.

But greasing a Walker look-alike had shaken him badly. Add the stress of the past months. Add the chronic pain that never seemed to go away completely. Add the loss of all the people who formed his 'family' and he was just a nudge away from falling apart.

NSA Strike Team Billets

FT Meade, MD

"Carina, I need to talk to you."

"Sarah? What are you doing here? Are you authorized to be here?"

"Here as in this room or here as in FT Meade?"

"Either, both."

"Yes. Beckman called me and urged me to come. Bloom says to talk to you about a mission so here I am. And yes, I'm cleared for the details as they affect Chuck."

"Fine, but you already know about the last mission, Sarah, I explained it to you. He hared out and lost it when he thought he'd capped you, Sarah, and I couldn't convince him otherwise."

"He kept apologizing to the body that he was sorry he'd killed Bryce because it ruined your marriage and then he said he was sorry he'd killed you because it ruined his. We've already been over this, Nightmare. There's nothing more to tell. He's unfit for command until he gets over this. He can't stop shaking and sometimes he just sits and stares for hours without any interaction at all. Sarah, he's the best man I've met in a long time but he's incapable of performing as required. He'll get himself and, probably, us killed the next time we go out."

"Fine. Have you seen him?"

"No. He's in a restricted section, I guess because of his actions with the Doc. No one gets in there."

"We'll see about that. I didn't come all this way to sit outside like some…damned camp follower. Thanks and I'll see you later."

NSA Medical Dispensary

FT Meade, MD

"He's in a private room, Sarah, that's all. Carina is so dramatic sometimes. I restricted visitors until you got here and could talk to him. The Chief deserves his privacy and dignity and the respect of this facility and my job is to see he gets it. Now, go see him. He was awake after eating what we call 'the noon mystery meal'."

She walked down the hall to his room. The twenty feet seemed like twenty miles. Her heart was pounding and her hands were trembling and she stopped just outside the door and forced herself to calm down, relax and put a smile on her face. In truth, she felt like running away.

What if he didn't want to see her? What if he wouldn't talk to her? What if he sent her away?

She took a deep breath and walked into his room and then up beside him. She looked at him and he looked at her for what seemed like a lifetime to her and he just opened his arms and welcomed her home without a word being said between them.

Sarah toed off her heels and crawled up beside him and was enveloped in his arms and still nothing was said. She breathed in the scent she'd only had second hand for the past months.

Finally, she broke the silence. "It wasn't me in that Hive, Chuck. I'm here and she's dead. You didn't ruin my life by killing Bryce. That was over a long time before I even met you. I was just going through the motions, doing my job, waiting for the day I finally failed and my existence would end. I wanted that. Not because of Bryce but because I had no hope of ever having someone other than a 'Bryce' in my life and I finally realized that wasn't good enough."

"And then I got assigned to be your handler. Beckman told me to be a hard-ass and get and keep you in line for your own good. Graham told me the exact opposite. I treated you like shit and you just kept on doing what the mission required even when it meant putting up with The Nightmare in all her glory. I started to weaken then, Chuck. I started to feel again and to care about things, people, the future."

"The turning point was the Stockton operation. I knew I was losing my grip on who I was, that I was changing and I was afraid of becoming…less than I had been. I was afraid of caring and it scared the crap out of me. You scared the crap out of me, Chuck. And when you said your warranty had expired, I heard myself lecturing you that if you had followed instructions…"

"You didn't trust me and I couldn't blame you. I kept you at arms' length to protect myself. I used every trick in the Montgomery Guide but I was lost. I grabbed the GPS and went in to find you, not to rescue you but to be with you at the end. I didn't want you to die alone and I didn't want to live without you. I didn't realize 'why' until later, of course, but that was the real reason I ran into that barn instead of guiding you out. You wouldn't have made it and you'd have died, alone."

"And then you put me into that container and…"

Chuck interrupted her long speech. He didn't need to hear it. He'd heard or figured out most of it long before now.

"I know all that. You told me; and what you didn't tell me in the tub in Lhasa you told me in our hammock on the rooftop and the rest doesn't matter. What we do here is important, Sarah, critical to our nation. We cannot fail and that means some of us had to commit ourselves totally to the mission of bringing down Fulcrum. I – I – I mean only the missions are important but the mission comes first, always; you understand that, Sarah, don't you?"

She nodded her head, suddenly uncomfortable with this conversation. The more he talked the less emotion he displayed, the more stilted his syntax became.

"I –I - don't deserve you, Sarah. The pistol was the answer to all the pain. Pulling the trigger was so easy but I couldn't even do that right, could I, Sarah? I need you, Sarah, I know I abandoned you, hurt you so badly but I need you to save won't fail me. Sarah, you won't leave me and when Fulcrum falls we'll all be free."

Now she was alarmed. The look in his eyes, so far away and so dreadfully lifeless, and the way he spoke, it was as if he'd memorized a speech in a foreign language and got the sounds right but the words were somehow wrong.

"Chuck, if I ask Beckman for the job of being your Protective Agent and she agrees, will you be happy? Can we be together like before on your missions? Is there a place for me on your team? Please say yes… I want us to be together again, like before, Chuck."

The mission comes first always; Sarah understands that.

"Yes, Sarah. I'd like that very much." His smile was tentative and pulled down on the left side by the sutures and surgical tape. Still, it was the first time she'd seen his smile in months and it was like a ray of sunshine to her. She'd been so afraid when she heard Lila scream 'No, Chuck!" and then the mumbling and then the gunshot. And then the dial tone and no one would answer the phone.

"And are we going to get married, Chuck? You asked, actually you proposed, and I didn't answer you, but yes, I want to get married, and not for the job but because I can't be without you in my life. And maybe a little bit because I know you don't like to lose and Beckman will have to pony up for the Fiji honeymoon." 'And I don't want you going with that dried up hag, although I think that was just an idle threat on her part, a motivator…but I will not take that chance.'

"Do you really want to marry me, Sarah, after I've hurt you so badly? I want nothing more in the world but the mission has to come first, Sarah, you understand that, don't you?"

Sarah nodded her head and wondered again about his speech pattern and why the stress on mission completion and priority. But as long as she went along, he'd be safe and his record of successful missions and operations spoke for itself. She'd keep him safe and healthy and they'd work out all the problems together, head on.

"Yes, Chuck, I understand what you did and why you did it now after realizing how committed you are to the tasks. But I want to get married now, today or tomorrow, no more delays, no more excuses, no more 'something's come up'. Is that too soon? It's how it has to be. No more delays, Chuck. I love you and you love me and I want us to be husband and wife so I can join the team and watch your back while we kick Fulcrum ass all over the place."

She watched his face light up with her 'married now, today' and his slow nod and growing smile was all she needed.

"Good, baby, I'm going to see Beckman and tell her that I want the job and we're getting hitched. You go back to sleep. I love you, Chuck, warts and all. We'll get through this together, but we're going to have a long conversation about bottling things up. Now, work on those sleep reserves, gray hair, you're going to need them." She giggled and got off his bed and slipped back into her heels and left to find Beckman.

Lila Bloom smiled although it was not a pleasant smile. She'd been 'monitoring' her patient's progress through the bugs planted in his room. Things were going according to plan despite the setback in the car.

She would never forget the look on the Chief's face or the rage and hate in his eyes when he struggled to raise his pistol and shoot her. Her involuntary scream of 'Chuck, NO!' invoked the conditioning protocols and saved her life. She was able to take the pistol from his shaking hands and place the muzzle against his face and fire.

She'd hung up Chuck's cell phone on a screaming Sarah Walker and called Beckman for a cleanup team of "EMTs".

She refused to take responsibility for putting him in the tank, for forcing his perspective to change so drastically and radically thanks to the drug cocktail she'd shot him up with and the conditioning tapes. No. This Sarah Walker was the cause of it all, not her. She called him Bryce, she made an unconditional decision conditional. Lila Bloom salved her conscience although that didn't take long. God, how she hated Sarah Walker.

General Beckman's office

"Sarah, how did your reunion with Bartowski go? Any progress? He's on leave as soon as he's out of the dispensary and that should be anytime since it's really just a deep laceration according to Dr. Bloom. You do understand that it was the interactions of the medicines that brought this all on, don't you? That and stress. He was put on leave for stress relief, Sarah, not because he was imagining things. Pure stress, that's all. I've let him set a grueling schedule and now it's caught up to us."

"He's better, I think, than the last time I saw him. He's more reserved now, less talkative but more 'to the point'. He seems more mature but almost tentative in some respects. He asked me to marry him and I've said 'yes', of course."

"But I won't be his little stay-at-home-wife. I want that protective slot you offered me, General. No one can cover his back better than I can and you'll never have to worry about defection or treachery."

Beckman smiled, thinking how Bloom's predictions had come to pass, with a little help from some operant conditioning.

They talked for the better part of half an hour and then Beckman eased into the subject of his leave.

"He's got 45 days medical leave, Sarah, and I want him to take it. Why don't you and he plan on just going away someplace quiet and work out the kinks in your relationship and then when you come back, he'll be hale and healthy and you can join the team as his bodyguard."

"Actually, General, once he's passed Bloom's tests, I thought we'd get married quietly and then take advantage of his Fiji vacation as a honeymoon."

"I'll talk to Bloom and get her moving on certifying him and then we can talk about the wedding, assuming he agrees to your plans for a 'quiet wedding.'.

"Trust me, General, he'll agree."

General Beckman's Office

2 Days Later

"Once he returns to duty from Fiji I'll need to run some comparisons to baseline. I'm sending him with a supply of 'immune system restoration drugs" that will both bring up his resistance levels to disease as well as keep him from remembering anything damaging while he's out of our control. Still, he is the intersect and a visual or auditory stimulus could trigger a memory dump; everything he knows but that we've walled off from his conscious access would come roaring to the forefront like a cerebral tsunami. Might be interesting to wire him up and trigger the dump just to see what would happen."

"Lila, enough of your Mengelen experiments. We need him in the field with his team eradicating any Fulcrum elements and recovering all the data they can find from any computer or hard files. It's imperative we find those listings. Damn Bartowski for his 'do the right thing'."

"I want him back in the field within 45 days. He's been here two days and you initially recommended 45 days' leave. Do your magic. Dope him up if you have to but I want the Chief back with his team when he gets back from his honeymoon."

NSA Headquarters

24 hours later

Diane Beckman was limping down the hallway when she felt a touch and turned to see who was there.

"Sarah, you're looking well today."

"We're leaving as soon as he gets dressed. You know where we'll be. I'll contact you in 2 weeks with a status report unless I hear from you first."

"Good. I want him ready for duty with his team when you return. He has much to accomplish and little time to do so. This has cost us too much time already."

"Well, we'll be in Maine for two weeks at a bed & breakfast for his initial recuperation and then on to Fiji for three weeks and then we'll be back in action. Team Yeti, the new and improved version. I'll see you later, General. And thanks for the honeymoon trip. You knew he wouldn't let you win, didn't you?"

Sarah Bartowski walked briskly back to her husband's hospital room. They'd gotten married the day after she'd returned. Beckman had setup a wedding in the base chapel and suborned the base Chaplin to perform the ceremony.

'No, Sarah, he wouldn't let me win. And I couldn't let him lose. He's got a lot to do before we can say "Victory". There'll be changes to the organization. Bloom has to toughen up and be more proactive and forget the men and women we're conditioning. She's a Nazi at heart, that one. Carina, she'll go to another team as leader and as a supporting asset to Team Yeti. Casey stays where his is, as far from Bartowski as I can get him. And Sarah, you'll be there keeping Chuck steady and focused, a true marriage of woman and machine.'

"Hold still while I finish you injections. You immune system was really whacked when you transitioned, Chief, and you're susceptible to any number of common ailments we all have resistance to. All these months and I still don't see improvement to levels I'd like. You know, you could come down with any number of 'childhood diseases' like chickenpox, mumps, measles, rubella. And you definitely don't want to get the mumps, not at your age."

"I'm glad I hared out with a doctor in attendance. Convenient, wasn't it?"

"You going to pay to detail my car, Chief? Replace the headliner and repair a 9mm hole in the damned roof?"

"Quit picking on the cripple. And if you're done torturing me, I have to find Sarah and then pack for our 'trial' honeymoon in Maine. Then in two weeks it's off to Fiji for 3 weeks of sun and surf. Nice leave you arranged, Lila. And thank the General again for the Fiji deal. And don't let her skip those massage sessions. You know how grumpy and cranky she gets. I notice she's limping again, too. Don't slack off on her."

"Use those two weeks to decompress, Chief, and work out the issues between you. Makes it easier down the road, believe me."

'And since Walker has agreed to provide daily updates on your mental condition, Chief, I can have you back in the tank within hours if your behavior begins to deviate from the norm…normal for you.'

Madison, ME

Sarah had driven the civilian-plated pool car to Madison, Maine and had no trouble finding the bed & breakfast in the small seaside town. Since it was the 'off season', they had the entire place to themselves. No one came to the Maine seacoast for the weather in winter.

Chuck had slept most of the way and Sarah had pushed the car to its limits many times knowing that he was unaware of her speed. He always lectured her on her high speed maneuvers so this was a great time for her to enjoy pushing the beast along the winding roads along the coast.

Chuck was not asleep. He was simply 'chillin' and enjoying his freedom. He trusted Sarah's driving and could easily sleep if he'd wanted but kept his head turned toward the passenger window and enjoyed the snowy scenery. Tonight he would sleep in a bed without gadgets attached to him and without the feeling lurking in the back of his mind that he wasn't where he thought he was. He'd probably dream but he'd brought some of Bloom's 'white outs' and knew if he took one of those his sleep would be relatively dream-free. He didn't want to dream any more. Ever.

Chuck took care of the registration and carried their bags up to their rooms. Sarah had reserved a suite of rooms consisting of a sitting room, bath and bedroom. Chuck noted the absence of a TV and chuckled. He was sure Sarah didn't watch television and he had no intention of wasting a single minute of his pre-honeymoon on something as mindless as the Great Wasteland.

He went back down for the two garment bags and his briefcase. He'd started carrying a briefcase on road trips between missions since it was 'socially acceptable' and ordinary. His briefcase carried two pistols with extra magazines as well as two boxes of cartridges for each and a silencer. Sarah's eyebrows had gone up through her hairline when he'd asked her for her 'piece' and put it and his 9mm into the foam cutouts. He'd gone to the armory and picked up the extra cartridge boxes. He'd ordered her something special but as usual they'd been backordered. So much for internet convenience. But they'd be waiting for her when they got back.

Chuck realized that he'd not seen his bride since she'd parked the car and asked him to take care of checking them in. Once, he wouldn't have given it a second thought and just gone about his business knowing she'd show up when she was ready. Now, however, things were different. His perspective on the world in general had changed and his first thought was for his weapon.

He tucked his 9mm into the pocket of his jacket and ambled around looking for Sarah. He walked through the small informal lobby and out onto the porch that surrounded the entire first floor of the house. He walked around to the ocean side and found a rocking chair with her purse on it but no Sarah.

This could not be happening. This was his damned honeymoon and some SOB was messing with his wife. He cocked his weapon, made sure the safety was on and walked briskly around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Sarah was leaning against the railing talking into her cell phone and she was crying. He overheard her say "…love you, too, and I'll let you know how things turn out. I'll call tomorrow if I can get some privacy. Bye."

Chuck spun on his heel and walked quietly back into the lobby and up the stairs to their rooms. 'I love you, too…' Well, he had only himself to blame. He'd hurt her horribly and had her removed from the team and sent back to California and her old job along with Casey and his sister. She was an incredibly beautiful woman and he hadn't expected her to sit around mourning him. He wasn't dead this time. She had no obligation to him, no reason to mourn this time. So why was she even here? If she loved someone else, why in the hell did she come here and agree to marry him?

He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He'd learned to work only from facts, not suppositions, hunches or theories or, God forbid, feelings. Hard, cold, unchallengeable facts. He'd ask her. If she lied, he'd know it. If she lied then she was a liability. Liabilities were dangerous and could potentially cause a mission to fail. Missions could not fail. Failure was not an acceptable option. Liabilities must be eliminated.

Sarah was upset with herself. She shouldn't have made the call. What was done was done and she couldn't change what had happened. They'd gotten married in the base Chapel by an Army chaplain as soon as he was pronounced 'fit' by Lila Bloom. Ellie would just have to get over missing her little brother's wedding. Damn her for making her feel guilty and making her cry. She shouldn't have made the damned call.

She opened the door to their room and saw her brand new husband sitting on the love seat in front of the fireplace, silenced pistol in hand. For a moment she thought she'd interrupted a suicide attempt but from the look on his face it was more serious than that.

"I didn't mean to overhear your phone conversation but I was looking for you and got worried. Irrational, I know but I was worried. I heard you tell someone 'I love you, too…' Care to explain?"

His eyes never left hers. His hand gripped the pistol in a familiar and comfortable manner. The silencer spoke more about intent than any words might.

Sarah's eyes widened and she realized what he must be thinking. He was no longer the naïve nerd she'd met long ago in Burbank. He was, through no fault of his own, now a full-fledged inhabitant of her world, the world of lies, deceit, shifting loyalties and betrayal.

He wouldn't go off by himself and sulk and reach all the wrong conclusions. No. He would attack the problem head on and eliminate it if it posed a threat.

"I was talking to Ellie. She's very pissed at us, well, me especially, for getting married without her and Casey. She's your sister and she feels cheated out of one of the happiest days of our lives. She can really play on my feelings of guilt and it upset me so much. Chuck, we always tell each other we love them at the end of a phone conversation. We're like sisters now."

"Thank you for telling me the truth straight out. It's refreshing. I don't mean to insult you but things are different now. I'm different. Beckman says I've got a huge price on my head and I don't know who I can trust anymore. Apparently the amount is staggering. Thank you for coming back. Thank you for being with me. And thank you for …"

She closed the distance between them so quickly he didn't have time to react. She was on him in a second, gently removing the 9mm from his hand and setting it on the floor and then putting her arms around his neck and bursting into tears. He had no idea what to do so he just picked her up, walked into the bedroom and laid her on the bed, taking off her shoes and kicking off his and laying down beside her and letting her wrap herself around him and cry. He felt like such a shit.

She told him she was proud of him, proud to be his wife and partner and most of all that she loved him but was also heartbroken that he'd become just like her. He was totally confused. He'd expected her to be angry and hurt. Certainly not proud.

"Chuck, you're so much more than the man I fell in love with in Burbank. You've come so far in such a short time and so much has happened to us. I just want these next five weeks to be our time. No NSA, no Fulcrum, no Ellie or Beckman, just Chuck and Sarah Bartowski, OK? Will you put it all aside and just let us have these next five weeks of 'normal'?"

"Sweetheart, I'm just sorry it's not more than five weeks. And I'm sorry I doubted you but Sarah, my life, my very existence, has all been focused on our operations. It's going to take me a while to set all that crap aside but I'll try. And you've got to forgive me if I slip sometimes. I never knew how hard you and Casey had to work to keep my ass out of trouble and just how little I appreciated it. So, let's forget all the spy crap and just enjoy being newly weds. OK? I'll try hard and you'll have to let me know when I screw up, Sarah. It's become second nature to me."

"That's all I'm asking for. Remember back when you took me to the beach for the first time and I went with you to the apartment? I felt so comfortable there and I could imagine us living there, normal and happy. It's why I went there after…after the…shit, it's like home to me when I'm not with you."

"We'll get a house near FT Meade, or an apartment, and we'll have normal every second we're there. We'll leave the other world at the door, Sarah, and never let it in. Is that what you want?"

"Exactly what I want. And it doesn't come here, either, Chuck. I turned off my phone. Please turn off yours. If they need us, they can damned well come here."

"Sarah, I'm sorry but I can't turn my off. Regulations."

"Damn it, Chuck, this is supposed to be our…"

He cut her off with a kiss.

"I forgot mine in the dispensary." Another kiss.

"In the exam room." Another kiss, longer this time.

"I think it got kicked…" A nice long kiss with her hands lightly running over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt..

"under the secure cabinet…" Her tongue tickled his lips, begging for entrance.

"by accident." A long, deep kiss, while she pulled his shirt out of his pants and fumbled with his belt.

He broke off the kiss and whispered, "Mrs. Bartowski, 'Fast and Furious' is a movie. Slow down. We have all the time in the world." She chuckled and buried her lips into the warm hollow of his neck, suckling at it and kneading it with her tongue. "Sorry, it's just that it's been so long and I've missed this so much, Chuck, and I want you so bad. I ache for you, gray haired lover, and it's been so long."

He kissed her softly, increasing the pressure and allowing her tongue to duel with his. He gathered up all the love and longing he'd felt for her during the past months and put it into the kiss.

She gasped and broke the kiss and took his face in her hands. "I never knew, I just thought you'd finally broken it off over that drunken stupid remark I made and then the trial and my lack of any response…I – I didn't stop to think how you felt, Chuck, just how I felt. I waited for you to do something and all the time you thought I hated you for…ah shit, Chuck, we wasted so much time because we can't get past our own insecurities. Baby, that has to end. No more secrets, OK? We tell each other everything, no holding back, no 'it's complicated' situations."

"I'm doing the best I can, Sarah. I'm not real good at 'revealing the inner Chuck'. Too many bad experiences when I did. I guess greeting you with a silenced 9mm is a step in the right direction, although it's a little…um… extreme."

"Ya think?"

The weather turned much colder and they put the fireplace in their room to good use. They spent a lot of time on the love seat pulled close to the fire making out like horny teenagers and thoroughly enjoying it. They brought back pizza from the town's only fast food venue and again enjoyed the fire and the wine Sarah insisted was 'perfect' for her vegetarian pizza (no olives, of course).

The huge claw-footed bathtub was also well used. Remembering the bathing pools in Lhasa, they spent a lot of time just soaking in the tub, Sarah lying back against him, a reversal of their roles, and talking about experiences, hopes and dreams, making plans and memories and making out like horny teenagers.

The first inkling of the problem surfaced in the huge 4-poster bed when Chuck had one of his dreams. It was a reprise of the barn scenario except this time Chuck was awakened by Sarah's struggles to breathe and her terror at being held by him and the heavy quilt.

"Don't, oh please, don't leave me here, I can't breathe, please, Chuck, don't leave me here to die…"

Chuck tossed the heavy cover off of them and then rolled over onto his back pulling Sarah with him and recreated the scene in the container. "I'm right here, Sarah, I have you. It's OK, you're safe, I'm safe, we're in our bed…" He repeated it with variations until she'd calmed down enough to actually wake up. Once again she'd popped him in the mouth as well as his stitched wound. He'd ignored the pain as he did in the container and concentrated on his wife, calming her, acknowledging her fear but telling her it was all in the past.

"Oh, Chuck, it was so real. I couldn't breathe and you were outside the container door and you were closing it and leaving me. It was so damned real."

"Hey, what's real is that you're in my arms in out 'marriage bed' and you're just upset about Ellie's call and probably overly tired from all the driving and fooling around we've done. It's OK. I still have some real terrors and no one wants to risk being frozen to death to help me, except Carina. She's been a great 2IC, Sarah. Now, if she could just leave the guys on the Teams alone…" He tried to get her mind off the container dream and onto something she could relate to in the here and now: the Carnivore aka Carina Hansen.

Just like in the container she inched up and put her cheek to his, kissing her way up from his mid-chest and exactly like the container she'd found his cheek slick with blood.

She rolled over and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand.

"Oh, crap, Chuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you, please forgive me. Oh, shit, I broke my promise. Don't leave, please! It was a mistake. I was dreaming." She started crying in earnest and he remembered the promise he'd exacted from her: if she ever hit him again, he was gone. Chuck wrapped his arms around her and did the only thing he knew to do, ramble.

"Shh, Sarah, it was an accident, probably a head butt. You didn't hit me and even if you did you were dreaming. No big deal, sweetheart, it was an accident. The only place I'm going is to get a cold cloth so it doesn't swell and interfere with our make-out sessions." He was keeping it light. It had been an accident and it would probably happen again. It was an occupational hazard.

She giggle-sniffed and pulled the comforter back over her and waited for him to come back and play big hot water bottle for her. While she loved sleeping nude and having as much contact with him as possible she was still dreadfully cold-natured and the comforter was a godsend.

He flipped on the light and shook his head. The lip was swollen but not cut. The blood was coming from under the surgical dressing running from the corner of his lip up to his temple. He had been so damned lucky that Lila had wrestled the pistol away when it went off. He didn't understand the angle but he was grateful nonetheless.

He peeled off the dressing, wincing occasionally as some portion of a stitch or dried blood stuck to the dressing, finally he just jerked the damned thing off. He tossed the bloody dressing into the waste can and patted the wound with a wet cloth. Chuck would not have been able to do what he had to do 2 years ago. He would have either passed out by now or been puking in the commode.

He opened his kit and took out the antiseptic spray, a clean gauze kit and surgical tape. After he sprayed the wound with the antiseptic as Lila had shown him, he slapped on the self-adhesive dressing and then secured the ends with the prepared surgical tape. Not bad for a beginner.

As he turned to leave he caught sight of his back and all the memories related to it came rushing in but he just blocked them out. He had a wife to attend to and his personal problems came a weak 2nd.

She was still awake and waiting for him. He turned on the room light and showed her the damage and his handiwork. "See, no blood. Just swelling from the beautiful blonde head butt." He turned off the light and slipped back into bed and pulled her into a warming embrace.

"Damn, woman, your feet are like ice! Didn't we have this conversation once before?"

She grinned and asked innocently, "Do you have a hat I can borrow?"

"Smart ass. Move over and bring those ice cubes you call feet up here for a warm up. I swear you do this deliberately to cop a cheap foot massage."

She was asleep well before he finished working his 'magic' on her frozen feet. How such a hot-blooded lover could have such cold feet never ceased to amaze him. Well, she was asleep and now he was very much awake.

Sighing, he covered up his wife until just her blonde tresses were visible and went over to the love seat and stirred the dying embers of the fire and added a few smaller pieces of very dry wood to the grate. In a few minutes the fire was again warming him and he added a few more logs to make sure it would stay warming if he fell asleep.

He put his feet up on the raised hearth and let his mind wander in what the shrinks at the NSA called 'free association' and what the Chief called 'waste of my damned time'. The Chief. A title and a role he greatly resented playing. He remembered that he hadn't taken his meds and got up and went into the bathroom. Six pills twice a day. It used to be four before he hared out on the mission and again in Lila's car.

The two extra pills were for 'mental relaxation' also known as tranquilizers. He wasn't bitter about taking tranks, if asked he could honestly say he was grateful for them since they allowed relatively dreamless sleeping. He hated dreaming and especially his reaction to being touched by someone while locked in a nightmare. Poor Carina had learned that the hard way.

'I think I'd better explain my relationship with Carina to Sarah before she finds out the unvarnished BS that Carina will deploy hoping to upset Sarah. The two of them were so competitive, each trying to one-up the other. I am definitely not the prize in some weird female contest. I've already been won.'

Finally feeling drowsy and closing the glass doors on the fireplace, he crawled back into bed to resume his sole function as 'large hot water bottle'. Sensing him, she rolled over and molded herself to him, sighed and was deeply asleep within a few seconds. He wasn't far behind.

They'd fallen into the newlywed routine easily and without any major glitches except when Sarah told Chuck she'd promised 'daily reports' on his overall health to Lila Bloom. She defused his anger and suspicion by making the calls in his presence.

He further defused the situation by sitting in front of her making weird faces and making her laugh outright or giggle.

Lila Bloom soon began to question the wisdom of daily reports, when it became obvious that Chuck was engaged in foreplay, once almost bringing Sarah to a climax before she hung up on her abruptly. Bloom replayed that briefing tape several times for her own enjoyment.

"Charles Bartowski, don't you ever do that to me again. I was on the phone with Lila Bloom and, my God, I'm only human, Chuck."

"So I can never, ever, you know, do this…"

Sarah interrupted him. "Oh, no, please, as often as you like, just not when I'm on the phone with Lila. Oh, yes, that's wonderful, please, I want you now, Chuck. Here and now."

"Sarah, we're in the parking lot at Wal-Mart. Not cool."

"I don't care if we're in the drive-through at Wendy's, you started this, now finish me… I mean, oh hell, baby, let's get back to the B&B."

The situation was definitely defused.

They headed back to FT Meade for a few days of orientation for Sarah and more medical tests and evaluations for Chuck. Neither was looking forward to the separation.

"It's only two nights, Sarah. You'll be in Virginia at the Secret Service training school and I'll be here. I'll miss you but well, that's the way it has to be."

NSA Medical Dispensary

10am

"Welcome back, Chief. How was the practice honeymoon?" Lila Bloom already knew but the more questions she asked the more open and friendly the Chief would become.

"Too short. These next two days are going to be really weird without her around. What did I miss? Any new intel to report?"

"Carina's has her own team, Chief. It's the way the General wants it since she and Sarah are…both very competitive, especially about you." She laughed. The General's exact words were 'separate those two. It's like being around dogs in heat when Chief's around.'

"Chuck, she put Toc back on the active rolls and she took him as her 2IC. It's her team and her call. He was medically qualified and wanted back on the spear teams, even if it wasn't the 'Tip of the Spear' Yetis. She said it was her call and you could just live with it."

"Damn her. She wouldn't dare say that to my face. She waits until I'm out of the loop and goes behind my back. Toc's not ready for spear team duty. He's run more ops than anyone but me. He's running out of lives, Lila. It's so unfair of her."

"The missions come first, Chief. You know that. You made the rules." Reinforcement might be necessary. She had two nights to tank him.

"He's a liability, Lila. He knows he's running on borrowed time. I could see it in his eyes. Liabilities make for failures and missions cannot fail. Liabilities must be eliminated. Mission failure is not an option, Dr. Bloom. You should know that."

"Well, Team Carnivore is out right now and due in later tomorrow, just a sneak and peak and plant some bugs. You'll be able to see just how well they did. Sit in on the after action debriefing. You can interpret for me." The last was said with a laugh. Lila never understood half of what was discussed at briefings.

In the meantime, Chief, let's get the medical stuff out of the way. You look like you may have gained a pound or two. You needed it. And we'll unzip your face while you're here."

"You sharpen those needles yet, Lila?"

Chief was back. She'd pass on the tank for tonight. His response was emotional, highly emotional, but it was like a catechism of rules, rules he'd made up. God help Carina if anything happened to Toc. He'd kill her, not literally, but certainly make her rue crossing him and one of his decisions. He was like that. Protective and forgiving, but the forgiving part took a long time.

She was removing the sutures with care and her usual gentle touch. Once again he appreciated that she treated him differently from the usual doctor who considered operational people as 'meat'.

"Lila, I've meant to compliment you on your suturing. You have a caring and gentle touch and I've missed that. The other doctors treat us like 'meat' but you're different. Thank you for that."

She was shocked at his comment and felt herself tearing up. No one ever told her they appreciated her gentle touch and she'd tried hard to maintain it, even in the special medical unit. "Thanks, Chief, you really know how to make a girl's day. I mean it, thanks, Chuck."

"Well, I meant to do it before and never got around to it and the way things happen, I just wanted to make sure it got said."

"You know what, Chief?"

"Nope, but you're going to tell me, right?" He liked the friendly banter with the short doctor. If Sarah hadn't been in the picture early on, he would have been comfortable pursuing a relationship with Lila Bloom, but not now, of course.

"Walker's a lucky woman and you, my friend, are a lucky man. Don't screw it up, Chuck but I'm always here if you need a confidential ear to bend. And the offer of the lasagna dinner has no expiration date."

He reached down and hugged the little doctor. She'd always been his friend and always was there for him. "Even if I freak out and become the loser I really am, Lila?"

"You'll never be a loser to me, Chief. And you won't freak out if you just take your pills and think before you act. Now, go check in with Beckman. She's been bugging the crap out of me for a report the minute we're through here. So walk slowly, Chief. Hit up the commissary for coffee. Give her time to digest the good news. She needs some."

General Beckman's Office

NSA Headquarters

FT Meade, MD

"Five minutes, Chief. Then I have meetings. Good report. You're looking good. Gained weight according to the doctor. She was right, minimal scarring. She does good work."

"Yeah, she has a sure and steady hand. So, how's the leg? I see you're back in the chair." He wanted to say 'See, withered, just like your heart' but he had no desire to be in detention.

She sighed. He got right to the heart of it every damned time. No preliminaries, just right to the issue.

"Hurts like hell and your magic exercises don't seem to work anymore."

"Diane, you have to actually do the exercises and massage if it's going to improve." He walked behind her desk and wheeled her out into the common area in the conference room.

Thirty minutes later she could stand without pain and walk without a noticeable limp. It would only last a few days but it felt wonderful. No cramping, no shooting pains and no damned cripple seat.

"Well, thanks again. I owe you one. So, go ahead. Ask."

"Why did you put Toc back on active? You know he's not fit for duty. If you'd just look into his eyes you'd know that. Carina's ready for her own team but damn it, General, she should know better. He's been on the Yetis since day one and now he's going to get greased sure as shit."

'So, we're back to General not Diane. Lila's right. He's back and sharper than before.'

"It was his decision and Carina made the right decision. She needed an experienced operator as her 2IC and he was willing and able."

"I see. Do your exercises, General. Keep up the massaging. I'm going to teach Lila how to do this. Should have done it before but never thought of it until now. Thanks for you time, General."

NSA Dispensary – Office of Dr. Lila Bloom

"Chief, I just don't have time right now. How about tonight after duty hours. You're staying on base tonight and you can do your demonstration here. Makes sense. Seven all right with you? Give you time to eat and me to go home and change."

"Fine with me. And yes, lose the skirt, definitely. Sweats would be best."

'I'd lose the skirt right here and right now if you'd just give me the nod, Chief. Walker would never know and we could continue on very discretely. Itches and scratches.'

"Fine. See you then. And eat a healthy dinner, Chuck. And tell Sarah 'hi' for me when you call her. Oh, that's right. You lost your cell phone…" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Chuck did the only thing possible in this situation, he did nothing at all but nod.

"Well, lucky for you it's been found. Here. Get a dummy cord and don't lose it again. And don't turn it off or let the charge go down." The GPS transponder required battery power from the phone itself. Turning it off or letting the charge deplete killed it.

7pm

Chuck walked down through the dispensary area and to the admin area. The place was like a tomb with no one currently banged up enough to need hospitalization that couldn't be handled by the base hospital staff or anyone with any security issues. Not even a skeleton crew at the nurses station.

Lila Bloom was at her computer. She certainly looked different. Her hair, normally loose or stacked on her head was in one long queue down her back, heavily braided with a leather thong. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of biker shorts and flip flops. Definitely on her own time.

"Hey, Chief. You get dinner? I saw the menu at the commissary. They say it's chicken but I've always had my doubts."

"I went down to the PX on post. Got a cholesterol burger with all the gooey, nasty, artery-clogging trimmings. Once Sarah's back it's tofu and silk milk. Yuck."

She laughed and gave him an appraising look. He'd worn jeans and a Henley and tennis shoes and he looked scrumptious. Damn, he would have to go and get married. Half the fun of Chuck in the tank was stripping him… she had an evil side, very evil.

"OK, let's get this started. We can use the diagnostics table since I'm only going to show you the excises and massage moves that Diane will need. She'll be in a better mood and you'll be very popular." He grinned and then gestured for her to hop up in the table.

"If you do this on bare skin you'd better wear latex gloves and use a massage oil but the General wears uniform pants so that's not a problem. If she wore a skirt it would have been very undignified and a little unsettling, at least for me."

"Why, Chief, do older women turn you on?" She laughed but the question lingered, unanswered.

He poured a bit of massage oil in his palms and rubbed his palms together warming it. He told her to lie down with her knees at the edge of the table, dangling. He started by explaining the need to relieve the knots in the muscles in the General's thigh and hip. When he started his long strokes with finger tips deeply into the muscles she groaned and Chuck asked if that was hurting her.

"Oh, God, no. I've been needing this for ages. Don't stop now. Those long strokes unbundled the myeletic bundles; I've figured that out. What's with the rotation of the finger tips though?"

"Supposedly it releases evil spirits but my teacher, an MD, says it breaks down lactic acid deposits by stimulating the lymph system. I don't know, I'm an electrical engineer not an endocrinologist. Speaking of which, remember to wash your hands thoroughly when you're done unless you really like having orange or lime colored hands."

"Ok, roll over and I'll go through the back side muscles."

When he was done with his demonstration and she'd agreed that she understood the process and the steps necessary to relieve the cramping and aching in the General's thigh he asked her to do a self-demonstration on her own left leg. "You have to make sure she can do it to her own leg and that she does do it otherwise you're wasting your time. Luckily for her, the damage is mostly to the lateral muscles and not those in the back of the thigh."

Lila hopped down off the exam table and promptly fell against Chuck, not realizing that her leg wouldn't support her weight immediately. "Lila, you don't have the damage the General does and so it was more a deep massage for you than relief. You should be able to walk OK in a few minutes. I forgot about that." He remembered the massage he gave Sarah and immediately felt guilty even though this was just a demonstration.

Lila was having very different thoughts about the Chief. She could imagine him doing that to her all over, not just her leg. And it wouldn't be a demonstration, either. She vowed to have him in her bed, Sarah Walker be damned! She was already coming up with conditioning steps to accomplish her goal, very subliminal instructions…

NSA Headquarters

VIP quarters

12:15am

Sarah had driven straight through from Virginia to FT Meade, leaving the very instant the orientation session was over and stopping only for gas. She went through the identification process at the main gate and then went to the VIP quarters and found the room occupied by her husband. She loved the word - husband.

Using the pass keycard she'd been given at the lobby guard station she slipped in and went directly to the small bathroom after determining that Chuck was asleep in the small double bed. A small lamp burned in the corner providing just enough illumination for her to see his sleeping face and she was pleased to see that the surgical dressing had been removed.

She washed her face, stripping off the day's makeup and then tied her hair into a ponytail and folded her clothes and put them back into the bag. Checking her appearance once in the mirror she was struck by the look of happiness on her face. She didn't get to see that look much but knew that was a thing of the past now.

She slipped into the bed and lay there counting the seconds. 1… 2… 3… 4… His arm snaked over and around her abdomen and he pulled her and himself to 'their' center of the bed and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, and sighed, still asleep. Her smile would have lit up the room if such a thing were possible. Even asleep he knew she was back and took possession of her. Even asleep, he could find her and make her his. Even asleep, he made her so damned happy.

NSA VIP quarters

3am

Chuck woke up and felt the early morning disorientation that usually only lasted a few minutes while his mind and body reconnected, reestablished control and his brain displayed the agenda for the day.

This morning, however, there was no disorientation just the delightful realization that he was surrounded by Sarah Bartowski, a very warm and naked Sarah Bartowski who was, at that very moment, drooling on his chest.

For a moment in time, a few moments, he was totally at peace. He didn't know what time she'd gotten in but wished she'd have at least awakened him for a welcome home kiss. He'd become totally addicted to her. He was a junkie and she was his fix.

His mind betrayed his happiness by flashing on his agenda for the day. They were leaving for Fiji the following day and everything would change then. Would he have the stones to go through with it? Had he totally misread her ultimate intentions? Would she follow his lead or revert to Sarah Walker, NSA Analyst and perform her duty to the greater good?

He checked his mental To Do list and prioritized a few things in a different order and then looked at the clock 3:03am. It was too early to do much of anything although he had quite a few lewd and totally appropriate thoughts when his wife repositioned herself. Her warmth was enticing and he thought seriously about another 3 or 4 hours of sleep when his cell phone intruded on his reveries.

"Chief, secure." Why did he answer that way? It was automatic. It was business and duty and he had nothing to do with either of them for the next 17 days.

"Beckman, secure. Chief, Carnivore's in the shitter and we're putting together an ad hoc reinforced team to go and pull them out. Briefing in 10 minutes. Sorry, Chuck. They've run into a really deadly situation and we have to bail them out. I need you one more time."

"Of course. I do get to bring my new babysitter along, right?"

Beckman mulled that over for 3 seconds weighing pros and cons before answering. "Of course, that's why she's here. Someone's got to watch out for you and it's her rice bowl." She hung up and Chuck had to grin. Butch and Sundance ride again.

Now for the hard part.

"Sarah, sweetheart, duty calls. I have to go make love to Carina and Beckman says you can watch if you want."

1…2… "What the hell? Are you serious? Duty? No fu…" He silenced her with a kiss, sending the usual package of feelings and reassurances.

"Good, you're awake. Carnivore's in trouble and Beckman needs us. Up and at 'em, my sexy tigress. Time to kick ass and take names."

They were only 2 minutes late for the briefing and Beckman was surprised they'd made it that quickly and said so. There were snickers and envious looks around the table but she brought the briefing back on topic quickly.

"Carnivore has screwed the pooch and kicked an entire Hive awake. What should have been a recon then a simple in and out is now a full-fledged firefight. Your 4 teams are interdiction and extraction only. The Hive's been compromised so the intel we're after has been destroyed by this time. The Fulcrum troops are bottled up on a peninsula in Baltimore harbor out near Sparrow Point in an old J&L Steel plant that's been abandoned since 1980 and they have no way out. Get our people out and let the Coast Guard and regular authorities handle the collars."

"Chief, your job is to coordinate the teams, not to be in the thick of things. You have an oversight role only. Not operational. Your job is to tell them what to do, not do it yourself, clear?"

"Yes ma'am, crystal." He almost flashed on the Sparrow Point plant but it was like tickling but nothing was coming. Weird. He'd mentioned it to Lila before and she said it was common for people on the pharmaceutical cocktail he'd been on.

"Do you understand, Mrs. Bartowski?" Sarah swore she saw a twinkle in the old crone's eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. Oversee and coordinate only. No ground games. No heroics. No doing."

"Excellent. Get moving, people."

Chuck met briefly with his team. There were two new members he'd never met and his flash through the intersect simply identified them as 'NSA Operatives' with a listing of qualifications and recent missions. Nothing to inspire or condemn. More drones.

"When our chalk hits the ground, form a perimeter and go to over watch roles. We'll leapfrog to the front edge and check things out. Engage any stragglers but be damned sure they're not ours. Load up and let's go."

"Chuck, I'll be on your left or behind you at all times. Do not get involved. Your job is to coordinate the rescue not get into the thick of things. I've got your back, sweetheart, and intend to enjoy Fiji so watch your step, Bartowski." Her quick kiss and grin settled the butterflies in his stomach.

The 45-minute flight from FT Meade to Sparrows Point gave Chuck time to grab a quick nap. Once again Sarah marveled at his ability to just sleep when everyone else was keyed up and on edge. She still didn't trust helicopters. Wings spinning over her head were not comforting at all.

Sparrows Point, MD

J&L Steel Plant (Abandoned)

5:30am

Hansen had pulled her group out of the office complex that fronted the plant and out into the parking lot where their vehicles had been left. Now the burning hulks served as beacons for the arriving strike teams. Law enforcement was queued up ready to pour into the complex and arrest anything that moved once the threats were eliminated. LEOs were not equipped to handle Fulcrum's soldiers and weaponry.

Sarah looked out the chopper door and wondered for about the billionth time why they just didn't pull back, form a cordon and starve them out. That would take a long time, gain publicity and cast doubt upon the unity, loyalty and efforts of the American intelligence services.

The chopper landed, the squad deployed on the ground as instructed and then the chopper took off to provide overhead illumination. Sunrise was 45 minutes away and the swirling snow and overcast did little to promise a bright and shining day. Sarah wished they were already in Fiji or anyplace else warm.

His squad deployed in an arrowhead with Chuck at the base and Sarah on his left. He felt a sense of dread as they approached the burning wrecks of Team Carnivore. Someone had not dotted their 'Is' or crossed their 'Ts'. He saw bodies covered by a tarp or something. He also saw why they didn't extract on foot.

The other teams were fully engaged and were pushing Fulcrum's foot soldiers back into the mill complex. Another rat screw. They didn't have enough fire power or manpower to root them out once they got in deep.

Chuck sighed and gave a hand signal for the R/T. He radioed the chopper to land and evacuate the dead and wounded from Team Carnivore and then return for them.

'So much for a quick in and out, Carina. What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking?'

Sarah touched his left shoulder and pointed to Carina. The chopper landed a few yards behind them and the medics unloaded their stretchers and equipment and rushed to the scene.

Sarah brought her mouth close to his ear and yelled "4 dead, 1 wounded, 1 missing. No one's reported finding a friendly, either dead or alive so that means he's probably been captured or he's dead somewhere not readily accessible to the teams. This damned snow isn't helping things either."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to where the medic was working on Carina. The heat from the burning vehicles caused the snow to melt the instant it touched down. The asphalt of the parking lot was melting and beginning to burn.

Chuck knelt down beside Carina and then leaned over and whispered something into her ear. She looked up at him, finally recognizing who'd spoken to her and closed her eyes. Sarah could see the tears coursing out of the corners of her eyes. Whatever he'd said had an impact on her. He patted her cheek and then stood and walked over to the bodies covered by the tarp.

"Pinkston, Angela, 28; Wilkes, Arnold, 26; Blake, Geoffrey, 31; Tockermanua, Reynaldo, 31." Chuck recited a brief biography for each after providing the medic with the identification.

"The missing team member is Dani Chisholm, er, Danielle. She's 28, a single parent, divorced but she doesn't…er...didn't have custody so normal notification rules apply. She's been with NSA 4 years. Short, about 5'1", 125 pounds, blonde, blue, very nice girl, they all were nice people."

He turned to Sarah and pulled her close and said loud enough for her to hear "Get me out of here or tranq me, Sarah. I owe these people many times over. The Agency owes them. I owe Dani for…for…ahhh shit!" She'd come prepared and stuck the syringe into his neck. She knew he'd want to go after the missing striker and she'd waited to see if he'd be reasonable or just bug out and do what was necessary to get her back.

NSA VIP Quarters

9am

He felt the pins and needles sensation of awakening from a tranquilizer dart. He tried to wipe his face with his hand but he couldn't move it. He fumbled around with the other hand and rubbed his eyes hoping to restore his blurred vision. God, he hated being tranqued. Casey must have enjoyed the hell… wait, Casey was gone. Who?

Sarah felt the arm she was holding against her try to move and she squeezed his hand and then raised her head to look at him. She'd been so wired and tired from the drive from Virginia to FT Meade and then the early wake up for a mission and then the necessity of immobilizing her husband…she'd fallen asleep beside him in their bed.

"Don't bring any of those things on the honeymoon or it'll be a really short one, Samantha Jayne Roberts Bartowski."

"Sorry, sweetheart, but you did ask for it. And I just followed your orders. I'm so pleased you kept your word, Chuck. No haring out. You had to have been dying inside when you asked me to tranq you."

"Um, I don't remember any of that, not really." He remembered everything but didn't want to burden or worry her.

Then, very quietly, "Did they find Dani?" He was dreading the answer just as he suspected she was dreading the question.

"Yeah. She was dead, Chuck. Probably before you even arrived at the plant. They'd had time to really work on her. I'm sorry, Chuck, but we promised each other 'no more lies'.

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes lies are better than the truth though. I need to be at the debriefing, Sarah. I need to know what went wrong with the planning and execution. This can't happen again. We have to isolate the weaknesses and eliminate them. Mission failures are not an option any longer."

She sighed and then hugged him. "There's no debriefing until Carina gets out of surgery and can coherently report. She was the only survivor, Chuck. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so am I."

NSA Medical Dispensary

10am

Sarah waited in the hall while Chuck picked up his meds for the trip. He hadn't said much about anything, just reminding her that she'd done the right thing and he was proud of her for doing her duty. That kind of freaked her out. The old Chuck would have stuck his thumb in his mouth and gone and sulked in a corner while this Chuck seemed…more like Casey on a bad day. She shuddered to think what the two of them together on a mission would be like.

Lila Bloom was surprised when he asked her for his meds for the trip. She figured she'd have to track him down and hogtie him for his immunity boosters and his other meds. He hadn't said much other than the necessary responses to her questions and she really wasn't at all surprised. The rescue mission had been an utter bust and the casualties to Team Carnivore horrific, worse than any Chief's team had encountered. Either Carina made a mistake or one of her team did. She knew he was taking it hard.

"Lila, when I get back I think I'll take you up on your friendly ear and that lasagna dinner. I really need to have a friend who knows the business but isn't involved with it. I mean someone not on a team. Hell, you're more involved than anyone. Who do you talk to, Lila, when it gets too bad to sleep or eat or even talk? Who's your father confessor?"

"You're welcome any time, Chief. I'd like to be your friend and since you're my patient nothing you say can be repeated. Patient confidentiality and all that. I'll look forward to you coming back. As for me unloading, well, maybe we can help each other. There's really no one here I can talk with. So, yeah, we can help each other. I'll cook the lasagna and you bring the wine."

"Lila, there's something I have to tell you. I'm not going to Fiji. I'm going back to Greece. It's a surprise for Sarah and I paid the ticket difference. I'll email you daily so you don't freak out about my 'condition'. Please keep it between us. I'll see you when I get back. And please, don't tell Sarah about our dinner plans. I have to have at least one secret from her." He winked at her and left.

General Beckman's Office

10:45am

"Well, Chief, you enjoy your honeymoon and then come back healthy and ready for work. We'll need to rebuild the teams and I want your input. You were right about Carnivore and I'm sorry I didn't listen. Now, go. Be gone. Have fun."

"Twenty-two days… I'll see you then."

Reagan International Airport

Washington, DC

They arrived at Reagan International for their flight to Fiji and before they checked in, Chuck took Sarah aside.

"Sarah, do you trust me?"

"Of course, why?"

"Then please take this package into the ladies room and review the contents and then meet me at Concourse B in the International Terminal in forty minutes. If you're not there, I'll understand, Sarah, really, I will. Now go, I'll always love you, Sarah, only you."

"Chuck, what the he…" He smothered her lips with a patented Tibetan Liplock and sent her a gushing wave of lust.

"Forty minutes, wife. Don't be late. And please don't just stand there looking like you just had sex, it's very unnerving to the priests and nuns waiting for the long flight to Ireland, my lovely."

Forty minutes later a smiling Samantha Turner met her husband Charlie at Concourse B.

"Sorry I'm late. Dragging these bags around is a killer, Charlie."

"Sorry, couldn't be helped. Had to get a reissue of our tickets and arrange a layover in Mexico City. Ready to board?"

"Oh, yes. First Class? Oh my." Then she saw their ultimate destination and threw her arms around him, happy tears overflowing from her eyes.

"You are a devious son of a bitch, Chief. This is a story I have to hear. Did you plan on 8 stitches or was that an accident?" No one said his wife was dumb.

"I'll tell you all of it later. Right now let's check the bags and get boarded. And please, Samantha, no hysterics if the attendant holds my hand in excess of your established parameters. We definitely do not want to draw attention to ourselves."

The flight to San Francisco was uneventful. Chuck slept the entire flight, waking for meals and meds and a short conversation with his beautiful new wife, Samantha.

"Chuck, these pills, are they safe? They make you depressed, sweetheart, and that can't be good. Are you sure Lila's on the straight and narrow with us"?

"I trust her with this, but nothing more. She's working to rebuild my immune system as well as some general non-addictive tranquilizers. The same thing they did before when side effects weren't anticipated but they were dealing with damaged goods and, well, me and my already twisted view of reality, Sam."

"You know, that's what my Mom always called me. Daddy called me 'Samantha Jayne', never anything else."

"Thanks, I'll make sure never to sigh 'Samantha Jayne' after making love. Just too weird."

"It's going to take a while for my to respond to 'Sam' or 'Samantha'. I've been Sarah to you and me for a long time, Charlie." She giggled then snorted, covering her face in embarrassment. Apparently he wasn't a convincing 'Charlie'.

"I never asked you about all of this. I just assumed you'd come along for the ride. Here we are at 30,000 feet and I'm asking if you're OK with running off the grid with me. I couldn't risk asking before, in case, well, honestly, in case you still had 'issues' with us. I know you married me, but that was probably for my money."

"I was never so worried or afraid watching the clock count off those forty minutes. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't shown up, Sarah. I was so afraid because there was nothing I could do to influence your decision. I didn't want to do anything. That's why I sent you to the ladies room. It had to be your commitment, not mine, Sarah, can you understand?"

She elbowed him in the ribs and then grabbed his hand in hers. "Until death do us part, husband. Satisfied?"

"No. But once I get you alone both of us will be. Trust me." He did the time-tested eye dance.

They changed planes in San Francisco and flew to Mexico City and after a day of sightseeing and watching for tails and a long bus ride to the western coast, connected via Mexicali to Belize City. Chuck remembered everything eventually, just sometimes at inopportune times. He tried to make finding any breadcrumbs as difficult as possible for potential pursuers.

Belize City Airport

Customs Queue

"OK, Sam, I'm on your plan, now. You said you had a place here. I just hope I'm not being presumptive in assuming you want me here. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

They were standing in line to pass through Customs. She knew what was in her suitcases but had no idea what 'novelties' Chuck may have packed. She held her breath when the Black Customs Officer raised the lid on Chuck's suitcase and turned pale. He looked at Chuck, then at 'Samantha' and reached in and took an envelope out of the case, glanced around and pocketed it. He put the big 'X' on each of their bags with no further inspection and wished them a joyous honeymoon in Belize and many children and smiled like it was Christmas.

Outside, Chuck turned to Sarah and asked her for instructions. He had a strange look on his face and for a moment she wondered if she were witnessing the onset of one of his 'spells'.

"Chu-Charlie, what's wrong? Are you OK?" She was concerned because he just seemed to be 'waiting'.

"Sam, I have no idea what I'm doing from this point on. My plan ended with Customs, and I'm in your hands now. So, do your thing. I haven't screwed anything up for you, have I, Sarah? You did tell me you had a plan for Belize? Please tell me I didn't imagine it? Oh, God, it's a false memory isn't it? I can't even trust my own memories. " His distress was evident in his voice and the look on his face. He looked like he had when she first arrived after the 'suicide attempt'.

She took both his hands in hers. "No, baby, you didn't imagine it. It's a real memory. I told you about this back in San Pedro and then in Greece. You got it right. I'm just trying to decide whether to grab a cab or rent a car. What do you think, Charlie?"

'Keep him engaged and focused. That's what Lila had told her. Keep him in the 'here and now' or risk losing him to the uncertainty in his mind.'

"What would you do if you were here alone or with Bryce, Agent Walker?" He looked like a lost boy at that moment. She wanted to shake him and scream at him that she was his wife, he was her husband, and Bryce Larkin was worm food but she couldn't upset him in public.

"I originally planned to come here alone, Charlie. But then the plan changed and I couldn't imagine being alone with anyone else but you. You're the only man in my life worth sharing this with. So, come on, I've decided. We'll rent a small car, maybe a jeep, and head for my palace by the sea. Bring your bags, Chu-Charlie, OK?"

She rented a jeep and put the top down and Chuck loaded their bags into the back. When she walked out of the rental office he was sitting on the hood in a lively discussion with an old man who was trying to sell him a wooden carving. Just as she was about to shoo the man away she heard Chuck ask "So, William, you are suggesting that we charter your son's boat for a few days later in the month for snorkeling? And you can get my bride and I a fine day-rate? Fine. But your 'antique' carving, William, come on. It's stamped 'Hecho en Mejico'. Shame on you. And I suppose your son's boat is 'hecho en Mejico' too?"

"Damn me, touristman, I just try and make a buck. Me boyo's boat be there. You come see. I get you one day FREE! What more you can say?"

"I got the card. I will ask my wife. What say ye to that, fellow?" William squinted at Chuck through his blinding cataracts.

"Damn me, you been here befo'. I remember you now. You and those mens with mean faces and dark glasses. You scared poor William but ye paid as promised. Welcome back, Chief. You find that Sarah-girl you be pine for?"

"Married her, William. Finally."

"You come see me by 'n by, I show you where you snorkel and my boyo boat be free for two days. Come see me, now, Chief. You take back the package I keep for you. You paid well, I kept my word, Chief."

He walked away smiling and mumbling and Chuck sat on the hood, pale and sweaty.

"Hey, met an old friend? Snorkeling? That's wonderful. Hey, you all right?"

"I've never been here before, Sarah, I swear. But he knows me and kept a package for me. Oh, what's been done to me? What else have I done without knowing about it? And where was Carina? She's been with me except for the first 2 weeks."

"Hey, we'll sort this all out when we have less important things to do. We're on our honeymoon, my gray lover, and I want some honey. I got to swing by Barclay's and get my money and my stuff out of a safety deposit box and then it's up the Mosquito Coast to my palace by the sea. I promise you'll love it, Chuck."

Chuck opted to remain in the jeep for the few minutes Sarah was going to need to do her banking. He sat on the hood of the jeep watching the people and the tourists. He imagined what their lives were like and if they were happy or not. He'd always been a people watcher.

Inside the bank Sarah approached an officer, gave him a pass code and then gained admittance to her safety deposit box. She removed a small satchel, keys and a thick stack of Belize currency and then stepped out into the lobby. She made a call on her cell.

"Hansen, secure."

"Bartowski, secure. Hey, how you feeling? Chuck wanted to stay until you were out of surgery but the tickets, well, you understand, don't you? Carina, was Chuck ever out of the US on missions? We're in Fiji finally and we ran into someone in San Francisco airport who said he knew Chuck and you, from of all places, Belize. You guys ever go international? Chuck blew him off with a 'man, I'm on my honeymoon and you're asking me about another woman?' but he was so persistent. Chuck dragged him off to the men's room and beat the hell out of him for bothering us."

"Sarah, you don't want to ask questions you don't want the answers to. Trust me. Chuck aborted the mission when someone let slip that we were going after a non-Fulcrum individual as part of an off-the-books op. We flew in, he did the recon and came back and told the team to ruck-up and go home. He stayed here another day "finalizing" some issues."

"I waited for him at our hotel room. He came back, minus about a pint of blood and a stomach wound that I did an emergency fix on, and we flew back to Houston and then on to DC. Bloom stitched him up and put him in isolation and he was back in place in 4 days. That's all I can tell you."

"Hey, I got to go. Chuck's here and we're going sailing and snorkeling. I'll bring you a t-shirt from Fiji. But one last question… did you sleep with him, Carina?"

"Shit, Nightmare, you would ask about that. I tried to, really. We were going as husband and wife. Four nights in the same bed. Every time I kissed him for the cover he looked at me and said 'you're not her, please don't do that.' But Lord, watch out when he sleeps. He dreams, screams, talks about glaciers and how cold he is and if you touch him, he goes ballistic.'

"Forget the t-shirt, bitch. I'll be back in 3 weeks and we'll definitely continue to explore the ramifications of your actions."

'Oh crap. And he doesn't remember. 'Minus a pint of blood?' This is not good.

"Hey, Charlie, does Lila know where we're going on our honeymoon?"

"Nope. She thinks we went back to Greece. I gave her our address there and an email address I used at the old internet café. I figure I'll find a place here and bump an email to her 'from Greece'. Keep them wondering. Especially when they trace the originating ISP as an internet café in Colombo, Sri Lanka. C'mon Sarah, you know I trust no one but you with 'us'."

She kissed him and tickled his lips with her tongue. "Let's roll, Charlie. I want to have a couple of hours of daylight to air out the house and dust and stuff. Been a while since I've been here but the neighbor lady cleans it every week from a bank account I set up for it. I called her from the airport and she promised to stock it with food and beverages and start the generator for us."

"Please, Sarah, swing by the American Express office. I have a package to pick up, OK? Shouldn't take but a few minutes."

"A package? You just remembered a package? When did you have time to send yourself a package?"

"Right before the wedding. All I had to do was bribe the gate guard to take it down to FexEx for me. Piece of cake. I told him if it wasn't delivered I'd kill him. It'll be there."

Sometimes this new Chuck was…different. And scary.

Chuck ran into the Amex office and emerged 5 minutes later with a 1 foot square box.

"What's in the box, sweetheart? Another surprise like the airport?"

"Patience, Sarah. You never used to be this impatient. What's gotten into you lately?"

"It's what hasn't gotten in to me, Chuck… hint!"

"Oh! Right. Let's go then. All done here, yes ma'am, all done. Well, let's go, Sarah, I mean, Samantha. This name business is lame. Should have issued numbers."

"Lila, I think you've been played. Carina got a call from Walker in Fiji. Something about a guy from Belize upsetting Chuck and how he got really upset about this guy asking about Carina on his honeymoon. Greece? You don't go to 'Frisco to fly to Greece."

"Why would he do that? We'd know for sure if you'd let me put the subcutaneous GPS transponders in his wound. He was out cold when I fired that shot across his face. Would have been the perfect opportunity when I stitched it up later."

"I don't care. I want those files. If he's gone on his honeymoon we'll just use the isolation tank to break him down when he gets back. I'll send the wife to the Secret Service course for protective services and we'll have access to him for at least 3 weeks. Dope him up and put him in the tank. I will have those files. He knows where they are, I know he does."

"And you're sure Carina knows nothing more than she's already admitted? Maybe some tank time would help her memory."

"Not right now. She still thinks the world is round. We'll coop her just like we did Tockermonoa. As long as she thinks it's for the greater good she'll always tell us the truth."

The jungle and the mangrove swamps edged right up to the highway. Chuck was sitting up and suddenly leaned over the side and vomited. Sarah slammed on the brakes and was beside him in a second, or so it seemed.

"Jesus, Sam, I – I – never get car sick." He was looking down at his mess and had a flashback…

"Chuck, you have to take these pills and lay down in the tank. It's an experimental procedure to reduce stress and restore balance. You don't want the dreams anymore do you, Chuck? Sarah calling you from the containers, not being able to find her, letting her die because you're a coward and wouldn't try and save her? Good boy, Chuck. Take them all and get in the tank. I'll be monitoring everything and you won't dream, Chief, I promise."

"Oh, shit, Sarah, sensory deprivation and drug therapy. I remember. Lila crooning her vile filth about how I let you die in the containers, how I was too afraid to get you, how I wouldn't try to save you. I would have, Sarah, honest. I wouldn't let you die. You have to believe me, Sarah."

"I – I wasn't trying to commit suicide, Sarah, I was trying to kill her! I heard your voice on the phone and hers on her phone to Beckman. Some of the words and phrases were the same but the voice. It was her voice telling me I left you! It was her voice telling me I was a freak, a loser. I tried to shoot her but missed. She hung up the phone and just grinned and told me to give her the pistol and I did and she shot me!"

She was horrified. She knew the CIA used deprivation tanks to break down terrorists and others. But to use it on a fellow agent, implanting false images, cultivating psychoses - unbelievable. And Lila? And to shoot Chuck?

"Chuck, listen to me. Look at me and listen to me. She put you on drugs. She made you sick then used it to find out things. Or maybe to get you to do things. None of it is real. You would never leave me, never abandon me, it was all a lie. Now, where are those damned pills she gave you?"

The road ended and Sarah turned down an overgrown cart path and drove slowly for about a mile parallel to the seacoast. She slowed the jeep and saw what she'd been looking for. She got out, pulled loose some overgrowth and then grasped a vine and pushed an entire section of jungle open like a doorway revealing another cart path. The 'section' was a carefully designed trellis that sprung from a series of large pots on a single piece of wood that was hinged in some way to a tree.

She drove down the path a few yards then went back and closed her 'gate' rethreading some of the vines from the trellis into the jungle growth.

About a mile later they emerged from the jungle undergrowth into a clearing where a ramshackle house stood on piers. She parked the jeep underneath the house between the piers beside a stairway.

"Here we are, Charlie. Looks can be deceiving. Let me go make sure the generator's on and then we'll check out our palace by the sea. I always planned on ending up here. I just never dreamed I'd be so lucky as to have you in my life here."

Chuck walked up onto the gallery and verandah. It was 20 degrees cooler up here with the breezes keeping the mosquitoes and gnats away. They had an incredible view of the sea and beach about 75 yards from the house. He noted the crafty and careful landscaping that made the house almost invisible for the shoreline. He plopped down on a rattan chair and propped up his feet and sighed. Home.

Sarah found him in the chair, feet on the railing, a huge smile on his face, sleeping. She almost broke down in tears at the sight of her husband here, in her secret place. She never thought life could be so good or that she deserved to be so damned happy. When The Nightmare made all these arrangements it was not intended to be a lovers' refuge but rather a dark hole to hide in and hopefully go unnoticed.

"Sweetheart, let me show you around and then we'll nap for a while and then figure out what to cook. And I have a surprise for you… Ellie's been teaching me how to cook. You'll see. Casey loves my lasagna. Even Ellie says it's as good as hers."

"You can cook? But in Greece, I did the cooking. You mean I won't have to slave over a hot stove? Hallelujah."

It started innocently enough with a wife asking her husband a question about a female co-worker.

"Chuck, how did you and Carina work out? Good chemistry?"

"At first, yes, but we had to do a few overnights in place and she became 'Carina the Carnivore' again. If she were a man, she'd be in jail for attempted rape."

"You and she had, um, I mean, in the same bed at night, you must have, did you…"

"Sarah, I did not make love to Carina. I did not have sex with Carina. I did not park willie in the garage. I did not play 'hide the salami'. I made a promise and I never broke it. Can you… Do you believe me or is this something I'm going to have to prove like the 'This isn't Chuck Bartowski' hour? Because if I do, I can't. No tapes, no recordings, no DNA swatches, just my word."

"I wasn't suggesting any thing, in fact I know how you reacted and I couldn't love you more for it."

"Then why the question? Comparing answers?"

"No. I just think Carina used you per Beckman's instructions or Lila's, maybe. She told me how you reacted to a cover kiss and how you reacted to being touched in bed by her. I just think she knows something that might help you unravel your mystery, that's all."

"Why are we discussing the Carnivore when we're finally out of the clutches of that virus who pretends to be a human general?" He ran a finger down her cheek and along her jawbone. She shivered and pulled the sheet over them and kissed his chin and then his lips.

"I want you to make me feel like you did the last time we were together. I've never felt that encased in love before. I want to feel what you feel and you to experience what I do. We have all the time in the world to get it right. After all, practice makes perfect.

Chuck finally slept, exhausted after so much practice. In the waning light of the afternoon, Sarah began to rediscover her husband's body, something she didn't want to do in Maine since the room was so damned cold!

First she examined his hands, noting new scars and a roughness that hadn't been there since before Tibet. He had a new scar on his left forearm, probably from a knife. Moving up she found the bullet graze on his left upper arm. She kissed it, running her tongue along its length, memorizing how his skin felt.

She moved her examination to his chest and abdomen, noting a developing six-pack and a new scar, four inches long across it. '…minus a pint and a stomach wound…'

"Sarah, you are very weird. Why are you kissing and licking scars? They don't bother me unless they bother you. Come up here where you belong. Oops, sorry, Samantha. Damn, it's going to take a lot of practice, Sam, to let go with an 'ohhhh, Samantha' when I'm so used to 'ohhh, Cariiiiiiiina'.

"WHAT?"

"Gotcha."

"Butt head."

"Charlie, go sit on the verandah, put your feet up and enjoy the view while I make dinner."

"Can I help?"

"Yes, you can eat it all. You're too damned skinny, Charlie. I think you've lost weight since Tibet. By the way, did you and Lila ever get together for that home cooked meal she was offering? My God, she did everything but suck on your lips."

"Ummm, since we're being truthful, she did that."

"You ate dinner at her place, just the two of you?"

"No, she sucked on my lips at the dispensary until I told her I was taken."

"Arrrgggg. First Carina dies, then Lila, then that scrawny General and her little black dress. Anyone I'm missing?"

"How'd you know about Diane and I dating?"

"Dating? Did you say DATING?"

'She needed escorts for political stuff and I, being a 'handsome older man' agreed to escort her from time to time. It wasn't like I asked her, she just sent me an email asking if I'd like to do this or that with her as her escort."

"How often was 'time to time', Charles?" Warning – Warning – Given Name Alert!

Chuck just sighed. Jealous Sarah/Samantha was not a pretty sight.

"Well, there was something at the Kennedy Center, a cocktail party at the Israeli embassy, the State of the Union Address, and the reception afterwards, um, lessee, a couple of Ravens games – she loves football and we got to sit in a private box, the Grid Iron Dinner, not much else, I was on a mission during the Super Bowl. Public stuff."

Sarah threw off the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed. "Jesus, Chuck, you had a harem and I had… nothing but memories."

He sat up and sat behind her, as close as he could get with his legs on either side of her, his chest flush with her bare back.

"Sarah, I never did this with anyone else." He put both hands on her shoulders and ran his palms down her arms. She shivered.

"I never did this either." He cupped her breasts in his hands and gently massaged them, sending jolts through her system when he rubbed her nipples with the pads of his finger. She twitched.

"I never, ever, did this." He nipped her ear lobe then ran an open-mouthed kiss down her neck from her ear to the hollow of her collarbone. She moaned softly.

"I never, ever, ever, did this, Sarah." Chuck slowly ran the fingers of one hand through her trimmed curls and moist folds then down her inner thigh leaving a heated tingling path.

"And I never told anyone that I loved them more than air, like you did."

A half hour later she whispered, "I can't ever remember feeling as happy as I do right this minute."

"Remember what I told you, fill seconds with minutes, minutes with hours, hours with days."

"You told me that but I never understood it until now. Time does seem to slow down for us, doesn't it?"

"I need to teach you a couple of things when we're fully rested. Some things are for me and some are for you and some are for us. But now, go cook, wife. And I'll finally go out onto the verandah and relax."

He dozed and woke, dozed and woke. The warm breezes that kept the bugs away and the quiet roaring of the surf were tranquilizers.

'Chief, we hit this guy, find the stuff Beckman wants, cover our tracks and we're out of there, 10 minutes max. Why the solo recon? It's dangerous with the team and suicide without at least me to watch your back.'

"Carina, something's not right about this. I'm not leading the Yetis into an ambush or a compromised situation. We've lost the originals twice over and Toc's not coming back. It's just you and me now. I don't trust the newbies Beckman saddled us with. Go work on your tan and I'll be back before your know it."

"Chuck, uh, Charlie, come eat before it gets cold." Sarah gently shook him to wake him.

"Sarah, you've been an agent forever. If you had a op to run but didn't trust some of the team, and you had a target, what would you do to set up a plan of attack?"

"Recon, either solo, or with a trusted teammate. Why?"

"Just a dream I had. Crazy dream. I couldn't trust my team and we were someplace doing an off-the-books snatch for Beckman that seemed loaded with risk. Nothing real, I'm sure. Let's eat."

'Sounds like what Carina described. Was it a dream or a memory, Chuck?'

"Ellie never made anything like this and very rarely anything this delicious. Please don't cook like this again. I'll weigh 300 pounds before the month is over. Just wow."

"If you're serious, thank you. If you're just doing it to get into my pants again, don't bother. I'm not wearing any." They were both sitting totally naked on the verandah enjoying the cool evening air. Chuck was amazed at the absence of mosquitoes.

"Yeah. You bring new meaning to al fresco dining, Mrs. Turner. I'd race you to the bedroom but I can't move right now."

"Well, Mr. Turner, that's sad because I was thinking about a dip in the sea au natural to go with our al fresco dining."

"Wait, help me up and then roll me down to the beach. Damn. Sexy, beautiful, deadly and she cooks. I won the wife lotto!"

Carina Hansen called later that evening. Sarah looked at the clock and then figured out 'Fiji' time.

"Bartowski, sleeping. Do you know what time it is, Carina Hansen"

"Hansen, secure. Sorry. I got bored and so I was running some old briefing discs before destroying them and I ran across an after-action briefing I think you should see. I'll send it to your Nightmare account. Gotta go. So, is he as good as I thought he'd be?

"He's wonderful and that's all I'm going to say Carina except…you lose – as always."

"Chuck, I'm running to town to pick up some emails from Carina this morning. Too far out here for service. Want to come along?"

"Do you have any idea how many times I had to perform last night? And you want me to be able to perform again, right? Then leave me alone, love of my life, so I can restore vigor and fortitude…in other words, Hell no, I don't want to go. Let me sleep."

"I left breakfast on the warmer. You go ahead and eat then take a long nap because this weather makes me want to," she whispered something in his ear and he immediately jumped up to eat. Sarah laughed delightedly. Married to this guy was so much fun.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours. Be prepared. Oh, and don't get too much sun, I like skin to skin…" and she chuckled evilly and left him speechless, his mouth filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, melon and coffee.

Chuck was bored after a few minutes alone. He prowled around the bungalow, not snooping into her personal stuff but just getting a feel for the layout. It was, as she'd said, not much to look at from the outside but inside a lot of money had been spent making it modern and comfortable without any impact on the dilapidated exterior. It was, in many respects, a hidden palace by the sea.

Drinking another cup of coffee, he ambled out onto the verandah and resumed what was becoming his most frequent non-Sarah activity, sitting in the old rattan chair, watching the surf and thinking.

He had a scar on his stomach he couldn't remember getting, and from the size and location, he'd remember, he was sure. Sarah had brought it to his attention with a sexy quest to relearn his body.

Damn. He unpacked one bag but had left the other down behind the stairwell. He walked down to retrieve it, marveling again at how much could be packed in what the CIA had called a 'bag, utility, secure, civilian'.

He opened the bag and began to sort the contents, hanging the dress clothing in 'his' closet as designated by his wife and the various items of the equipment on the bed.

He heard her jeep pull up and park under the house. He could understand why she loved it here. Convenience was understated in every aspect. No garage needed.

"Charlie, you awake, sweetheart?" Damn he was getting so used to being her 'sweetheart'. Made him feel warm all over. "In here, Sam, sorting through my other bag." He could hear her in the frig and then she appeared, a beer in each hand.

"Here. You haven't had one since…I guess I can't remember when. Drink up, Charlie, and … whoa! Chuck, you expecting an invasion? Let's get these sorted out and I'll show you my 'armory'. Nice knife. Gerber? Nothing but the best for my gray haired old fart. So this is why the Customs Agent freaked out? That must have been some envelope you gave him."

"No, it wasn't only my Gerber or the broken-down MP-3 or the C4, your matched Solingens might have had something to do with it also."

He removed a cloth and there were custom matched knives in holsters. There were the 'pinnacle' of combat knives and she'd always wanted a set.

"For me? Really? Solingens? Oh, Ch-Chuck. You got these for me?"

"Sarah, I can't protect you unarmed. It's my job now. Let me do my job. But I want you armed in case I fail or I'm not around anymore. A lousy wedding present but I wanted, no that's not right, I needed to get you these."

She shivered, remembering her words to him back in Burbank. She hadn't done a very good job at protecting her asset, but she would never fail her husband.

"I feel safer already. Now, let's see what's in the files Carina sent us."

"No. There's something I have to do first. Hang on a sec." He went into 'his' closet and took out the box he'd picked up from the American Express office a deftly sliced it open with his Gerber.

"Here. I had no idea how you were set financially so I decided to supplement your funds with some, actually all, of my own." He started pulling out banded stacks of twenty-dollar bills, fifties and hundreds. He left the small box in the bottom of the box.

"Should be $156, 400 there. Seems I never was 'killed' in the finance department so they kept paying me plus I never had reason to spend a lot before so it's almost two years' pay there plus some savings from the 'lost years'. It's all yours, babe. Just add it to your swag. Should keep us a while if we're smart with it."

Sarah just gaped. "You planned all of this in advance, didn't you? You knew something wasn't right and you took steps? Oh, Chuck, I'm so sorry I ever said you didn't think."

"Oh, one more thing." He reached into the box and removed the blue velvet box, opened it and took out a set of wedding rings. "Here, love, your hand looks so… empty." She

teared up as he slid it onto the proper finger of her left hand. "Until death do us part, Samantha Jayne Roberts, I thee wed." Now the tears overflowed and she leaped on him and hugged him.

"Until death do we part, Chuck."

"I suppose this one needs a home too?" He pushed a matching engagement ring onto her finger. A perfect fit with an understated diamond worth much more than he'd paid for it in Athens.

Chuck and Sarah had reviewed the files Carina sent several times. Sarah took notes and made observations. Chuck didn't say much at all.

"You don't remember this mission at all? How about the team members?"

"The big Samoan is Tockermanoa but he's off the team now. He's the one who was slipping me the drugs. Caught a round and he's gone, off the list and never on the other one. There's Carina, of course. The other 3 are Jefferson, Pace and the small guy with the pencil mustache is Haynes. Haynes and Pace are dead. Jefferson is medically retired."

"Off the list? What list is that?"

"There's a list of applicants for the team that Beckman updates as needed. There're always 7 or 8 names. Toc went back and got requalified by Bloom but I wouldn't accept him back. He'd just end up on the other list and I couldn't have that."

"Other list, Chuck?"

"The ones I lost, Sam. That list is too long as it is."

"I see you left the debriefing with Bloom and didn't come back for the after-action summary. Why do you suppose that was?"

"I don't remember the mission, Sar – Sam, so how could I know that?"

She was watching Carina. Sarah saw the look of pity on her face when she rubbed Chuck's arm as he rose to go with Bloom and the utter hatred and contempt when she looked at the doctor. She needed to call Carina back.

"Sam, look at the date stamp. We were in Greece then, weren't we? Dates are kind of fuzzy. We weren't even in country then. These have been altered. But why?"

"Hansen, secure."

"Walker, secure. The dates were altered. Why?"

"You caught that, too? There wasn't even a Team Yeti then. Did you see how Bloom pulled Chuck out of the briefing? What a bitch. 'Wound therapy' my ass. More like beating him with rubber hoses."

"He doesn't remember the mission at all. What was the objective, Carina, and where was it?"

"This was the Belize mission, the off-the-books where Chuck got stabbed. You couldn't tell from his appearance but he had a taped-shut 4-inch nasty slice in his stomach. I guess Bloom was going to do the stitching. He'd already started healing by the time we got back. Damnedest thing I ever saw."

"What was the objective, do you remember? Chuck ran into a guy in the 'Frisco airport who said he knew him from Belize and started hassling him and Chuck beat him senseless in the men's room."

"Get a package of discs and a crate or something from some Cuban along the docks, pay him a huge amount and bring it all home to momma Beckman. Boy, was she pissed at Chuck for the abort."

"So, how's the weather there? Worth all the General's money?"

Sarah had googled the weather before calling and glibly replied "I haven't been out of bed much but it rained last night and a bit this morning. Chuck went down and tried surfing but that failed. They shooed everyone back off the beach because of lightning squalls. I don't care if it rains 24/7. I'm working on a honeymoon tan, Carina."

"Damn, Nightmare, I want details when you get back." Well, the weather checked out. And if she was in bed with the Chief she probably wouldn't know there was weather and wouldn't have cared.

Sarah's Verandah

"Samantha, let's cut to the chase. The mission was in Belize and I got stuck and don't remember a thing. The debrief was bogus and I probably went into the tank instead of back with my team. Results: unknown at this time. It was in Belize, we're in Belize, Sam-I-Am, we need to go snorkeling. Do the whole honeymooner thing for real. But I have one request."

She sat down in his lap with her arms around his neck and nuzzled ear then licked it. She knew it drove him wild. "What's the request, Charlie-warlie?" Sam-I-Am? Take that, Charlie-warlie.

"Wear a bathing suit that won't require me fighting off the men. That lime green postage stamp with strings…oh, fuel for many a fantasy."

She laughed, delighted. "Oh, I put that to good use, didn't I? At least you remembered it."

"Yeah, what little there was of it."

"OK, let's go snorkeling. I'll wear my Burkha-ini."

Belize City Docks

Seraphim

"So, my Pop says you get to hire my boat out for snorkeling for three days and only pay for two? He also try and sell you that damned Mexican carving he carries around? You know my Pop is a bit…old and touched in the mind?"

"Actually, I know William from another trip down here. And yeah, he tried to push off the 'hecho en Mejico' carving. He called me 'Chief' and said he had a package for me but I can't find him at any of his usual haunts. And I'll pay three days' hire for three days."

"Wait, you the Chief? Come on board. Any man who take on the Cubanos and save my Pop from a stickin' is due a free ride. Bring the missy and we go out tomorrow morn. And I get Pop here with your package. Paid him well you, Chief. Rare for a tourist. Rare too for my Pop not to try and sell it. Tomorrow morn, bout seven. Bring beer, I'll handle the food."

"Works for me. Tomorrow. Red Stripe OK?"

"So, we're going snorkeling tomorrow at SEVEN? We're on our honeymoon, you know, wake up early, make love, go back to sleep, wake up, have a little make-out session and see if you get to home plate, maybe get up and eat something then…"

"I get the idea, here, Samantha, you don't think seven is appropriate especially given the time it'll take to drive down there and park and walk to the boat and argue about sunscreen and 'oh, my hair, Charlie'. Seven, Sammie, not negotiable. Besides, we're getting the package and the snorkeling. So, early to bed, early to rise, m'love."

"And Mrs. Turner, bring your knives."

Belize City Docks

Seraphim

"Chief, you brought your wife. Excellent. A fine day for snorkeling. No rain and light seas." William's son had a lot of William in him. A real BS artist. It was cloudy, the seas were choppy and there were the remnants of a tropical storm stalled off the coast of Panama heading northwest.

"Where's William and my package?"

"Ah, he's 'indisposed' at the moment but will meet us here when we return this evening. Ah, Red Stripe! A man's beer. Bring yourselves aboard while I stow this in the cool locker."

"Chuck, 'indisposed'?"

"Drunk, probably. He's his son, can't expect him to say 'me Pop's in his cups' now, can ye?"

She laughed at his Creole patois. 'He seemed to be developing talents of mimicry. Now if only he could mimic a little less concern for my well being.'

They cast off and steamed east nor' east towards the sea sanctuary and a fine if windy day of snorkeling.

"Mrs. Chief, please to take the helm while I get us a lunch. And three Red Stripes, of course." He grinned at Sarah and slipped down the ladder and below decks to the galley.

"So, 'Mrs. Chief', any second thoughts on today's agenda? I hired the Seraphim for just two days. I'm not all that fond of snorkeling but I wanted to leave the option if you found it as fascinating as you seem to find every new experience. It's always a joy to me to watch you do something new, Sar- I mean Sam."

She grinned. And she said he didn't think. Didn't plan ahead. She gave a happy sigh and put her arm around him pulling him against her. Fill the minutes with hours, indeed.

They set a sea anchor and the skipper brought them a seafood salad and beer for their snack. "We be there in bout one more hour. Clouds be moving more north so we have no winds or chop. You watch for the manta and the white tip sharks here bouts. Down some on the coral and the old wrecks you should see many schools. Maybe dolphin or porpoise, although not many here now this time. Most still down near Panama or out to sea far."

Sarah noticed how he lapsed into the singsong English of older times when he spoke about the sea. From the looks of his hands, he'd been a sailor all his life. From his skin and hair, he had a fair mixture of Creole, Spanish and some occasional English sailor in his gene pool. Sometimes he looked to be 20 and other times much older. Strange. He would be a hard one to mark in a crowd.

They sat in the well deck on the gunnels and ate and drank. Chuck pulled off his t-shirt and walked over to get them another beer and the skipper saw his back for the first time.

"Holy Mary, Saints preserve us, the man was chewed up and spat out by Satan hisself." He crossed himself and touched his juju bag.

Chuck turned and fixed him with the 'Chief's glare'. "It wasn't the debbel, Williams' son, but a scorned woman. Take note and heed lest ye find the same debbel woman in your bed, son." He laughed and the sailor just crossed and muttered to himself.

"Chief, don't tease him like that. It was an industrial accident. He got burned by acid."

He looked at her, grinned, and mumbled "sure 'twas and me mother 'twas Ginger and me Da was the Professor."

Chuck howled and Sarah just glared at him. Cover. He doesn't care about a cover. Well, why should he? And she started giggling too.

They arrived at what the skipper said was the 'perfect place' and Chuck asked him how he knew since there were no reefs, cays or bars to indicate anything. He just put his finger to his nose and said, "I smells it, Chief."

"Sure, and the Tri-Star GPS6 Nav on your console has nothing to do with it at all, right?"

They spent the next 4 hours snorkeling and as Chuck had already assumed, Samantha never wanted to stop. She was a water sprite and could free dive down almost to the reef itself just using her flippers whereas Chuck just barely managed to keep from drowning in comparison.

He spent more time floating on his back than actually snorkeling. If she ever found out the sun was killing the skin and keloid on his back she'd want to cut her fun short and he couldn't have that. He finally climbed back aboard the boat and pulled on a t-shirt from his bag and joined his mermaid on a few of her free dives.

"Chuck, I hate to cut this short but we do have to get with William and get your package. Let's plan on taking our second day next week, OK? Let's take care of business first."

"Works for me." He discussed it with the skipper and then they headed back in. Chuck tried to talk him into joining them for dinner at the pier restaurant but he begged off.

"Chief, I gots to tend to my ship. But thanks for leaving the beer. And I'll see you and the delightful Mrs. Chief next week. Now, William should be up the pier, there's a Carnival boat due in here this afternoon and he never misses a chance to sell one of his statues."

They ran into William at the Carnival pier waiting for the suckers – er- tourists to disembark.

"Chief, you went out on the Seraphim, was everything I promised, right?"

"Yes, but now I'd like my package, William. Can I take you to pick it up, please?"

"Sure, we can go now. This damned statue will not sell so I have to bring other authentic Mayan treasures from my warehouse. Sure now, is a good time for it too, Chief."

Sarah drove them to William's 'warehouse' that was actually a shed behind the shack he lived in.

"Say, William, why do you call him "Chief"? Sarah was curious as to the origin of the nickname. "He didn't really ever use the name except on comms when on a mission as a identifier for transmissions.

"Well, the little brown haired girl called him that, Missy." He turned to Chuck. "You remember her. She was hanging on you and you kept brushing her off. Man, I knew then that you be's either crazy or crazy in love wit' someone else. That's when you told me 'bout your Sarah girl and how you missed her but it had to be that way for her to be safe."

Chuck didn't see Sarah's eyes narrow and her lips press into an angry straight line. They would discuss this later, alone.

"Oh, yeah, her, the little nagging girl. So she knew about the package, William? She knew I gave it to you?"

"No, she didn't be here that night the Cubanos came. Just you and me and some Red Stripes. Them some bad mens but we run them off real quick. You give me the package and $1,000 and told me "Hide this until I come back. Don't open it or it will eat you up."

"I still be here, so I didn't open it, Chief. That be one heavy package you put on my soul. Be damn glad to be rid of it."

"Sam, please bring the jeep back here and then go stand beside the house and watch the road, babe. OK?"

Chuck and William put the package in the back of the jeep. It was heavy, very heavy. Suddenly he flashed on what it was. The brown leather, cracked from age, the old lock, and the lead box within. Plutonium.

"William, was there anything else I gave you? Some papers, a computer disc or something maybe? I don't remember just the package."

"Yeah. And you told me to 'hold it until I give you the password, William,' and that seemed strange and you said to remind you about your teacher. Was weird then but I figured it was because you was bleedin' on my floor like a stuck piglet."

"Right, I remember, the big Cuban with the weird eyes stuck me but we ran them off. They never come back here by 'n by William? Never to offer you money or something else?"

"I didn't come back here like you say, I stay way on my boyo's boat for a time. Maybe 3 weeks, I don't remember much me."

"Ahn-Zhu, William, Ahn-Zhu."

He went to the rear of the shed, moved a dry sink from against the wall and reached behind it and tore off a square package secured with tape and gave it to Chuck.

Chuck pulled $200.00 from his wallet and handed it to him. "An honesty bonus, William, and for helping me that night. I don't think I could have walked back to the hotel without help."

He walked back to the jeep and drove it up to the shack. "Get in and drive, Sam, but please be very careful and don't have an accident. I think our kids will appreciate your caution. I got the files here, too. Bonus time. And some damned questions you need to ask that bitch Carina."

"Kids, Chuck? Kids? What kids? We have got to talk about this. I mean kids? We just got married. We have lots of time for that. I'm only 31, Chuck, and I'm not ready for kids. We will talk about this, Charles Irving Bartowski, we sure will."

"Chill out. You'll understand when we get back to our palace by the sea, wife. Believe me, you'll appreciate the precautions I've already taken on their behalf. Four, Sarah, three girls and a boy. All with blonde hair and blue eyes and your features, thank God."

"Four? A litter? This girl does not do litters, Chuck. No way. Maybe one. A boy with brown hair and eyes. No girls. Too much trouble."

"Drive, Samantha. We can discuss progeny later. And we've just ensured ourselves of a 'later'.

They got back to Sarah's place just before dark. Neither said much on the way back but Sarah's mind was racing and running again and again through what had been said in the shed before Chuck had sent her back to the house.

'That's when you told me about your Sarah girl and how you missed her but it had to be that way for her to be safe.'

'And he did it again when he told me to go back to the shack…he wanted me safe from whatever was in that package.'

She pulled under the house and turned to her husband. "Chuck, no bull this time. What's in the package?"

"I think, judging from its weight and packaging, it's plutonium, Sarah."

"And that's why you wanted me away from it? In case the case had cracked? That's what you meant about our kids appreciating it?"

"Pretty much, Sarah. Do you have a shovel?"

She got him a spade and he told her to please go up into the house and bring him a beer. "Digging is thirsty work, Sam."

When she got back with their beer, he'd somehow manhandled the package to the sandy ground and was dragging it off into the jungle.

She started to follow but he warned her off. "Just going to dig a hole and bury it. Just be a second."

When he came back he was sweaty and the mosquitoes had discovered him. "Beer, shower and then talk, OK? Just display a little of that well known patience, please."

Chuck's back was in spasm from the heavy lifting and had progressed almost to the point of being unbearable. He stepped out of the shower and made his way to the bedroom, a towel around his waist. She was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"Sarah, remember what you told me about hiding my pain from you? Well, I need a little help here. I don't think I can ignore this set of muscle spasms. If I direct you, can you rub out the worst of the cramps for me, please, Sarah. Please?"

"On your belly and lose the towel, Charlie. I figured you'd need a little TLC after all that. You should have let me help. I'm not a piece of china that has to be wrapped in cotton. You know better than that."

She started at the base of his spine and pushed her hands up against his back as he'd shown her. The warm oil and her strong fingers loosened cramped muscles and massaged the spasms until they were gone. She knew this would become an almost nightly ritual, one she did not begrudge him.

"What William said about Carina hanging on you and you brushing her off, I'm sorry if I ever had the slightest doubt about you and her. But Chuck, we're in this together and don't you ever send me away again to be safe. I won't go next time."

"I know and while I love you for it I'll hate myself even more if anything happens to you. I can't control my fear for your safety. I saw what you were going to do when I untwisted things in the container, Sarah. I know why this place exists and I'm glad you changed your mind. The world needs fewer Nightmares and more Sarahs. And that's a truth I won't ever deny."

"Better now, sweetheart? The spasms seem to have all been worked out I think. Did I miss any?"

"Feels wonderful. Come up here and we'll have the talk."

They didn't say much but communicated just fine anyway.

Sarah's Palace by the Sea

Belize

5:45am

Chuck sat on their verandah watching the surf and sunrise and listening to the early morning sounds of Belize waking up. He was nibbling at a plate of fruit he'd thrown together after a long discussion regarding his eating habits. He'd promised to eat 'more green stuff and fruit' and lay off the cholesterol bombs. Nag, nag, nag. And he loved it.

It had been 3 weeks since his last intersect update and he'd realized that his flashes had been tapering off in both frequency and in terms of the volume of data he'd been able to access since before the mission he'd had his problems on.

He should have had residual flashes in the airport, the city, someplace, but there'd been nothing, not even a 'realization' of information from previous flashes. Someone had been tampering with the metatags on the 'files', meaning the visual or auditory cues were either self-limiting or had been deliberately blocked. But why and by whom? Only the NSA had access to the intersect compilation process since Graham's 'removal' from the project.

And Carina. What did she know? She'd obviously lied to Sarah since she never mentioned William, a lie by omission.

Too many questions with answers he couldn't find in Belize. Well, he was on his honeymoon. Everything else could wait. He finished his fruit plate and then took a quick shower and slid into bed to see if he could entice his still-sleeping wife into a little wake-up sex.

End Undisciplined3