Notes: This is the eighth and final part of this story. I wrote this without a plan and just from the little idea that both Bryce and Chuck had FBI identities.
Eighth Part
During the night, there was a bang from downstairs. Peter opened his eyes, spotting movement out of his eye as Neal pulled out a gun from under his air mattress pillow and rolled into a kneeling position with gun ready.
Peter's own gun was in the bedside table, top drawer. He got it out and shared a look with his partner. Neal held a finger to his lips and crept to the door, opening it a crack.
Chuck was there a moment later, Sarah by his side. They were both armed. Neal's eyebrows rose at the sight of a gun in Chuck's hands.
"I am an FBI agent," Chuck whispered back.
"I still can't believe you hid your service weapon from me," Sarah growled.
"Sorry, honey."
"Let's go," Peter said, reminding them of the situation.
Chuck and Sarah nodded and the four crept down the hall, towards the stairs. There was another clutter and a hushed voice.
"Alright, weapons of death away," Chuck sighed, holstering his gun. He received confused looks. "Morgan?" he called out.
A dark head popped out from around the corner. In his mouth was a spoon of ice-cream, the tub in his hands.
"Morgan Grimes?" Bryce gasped, his expression not amused.
"Oh, forgot you were here," Morgan grumbled in Neal's direction.
"Our flight is tomorrow," Peter pointed out.
"Morgan, what are you doing here?" Sarah demanded to know. Morgan spooned some ice-cream into his mouth.
"I had a fight with Alex."
Sarah gave Chuck a look then announced that she was going back to bed.
"This is your problem," Neal said to Chuck, going back up the stairs.
Morgan sat at the kitchen table, munching on ice-cream. Chuck sat across from him, gun on the table next to him and looking tired.
"Morgan, it's the middle of the night. Why are you here?"
"I told you, I had a fight with Alex."
"Details, Morgan!"
"What's with the gun?" Morgan asked, changing the subject.
"It's my FBI gun."
"So, you don't have a gun as a spy, but as an agent you carry one around? Sorry Chuck, that doesn't make any sense."
"I'm required to have one as FBI and I can count the number of times I've fired it on one hand. Now, your turn. What happened with Alex and how can I help you make up for it?"
Morgan raised an eyebrow and commented, "how do you know I did something?"
"Aside from you eating ice-cream at my house in the middle of the night? Come on, Morgan."
Morgan groaned and spooned more ice-cream into his mouth.
Neal paused at the entrance to the kitchen. Morgan was sitting at the table, sloppily pouring milk over sugary cereal.
"He's still here?" he questioned in a grumble.
"Yep. You're really grumpy without coffee," Morgan responded with a smile. "By the way, what's better: world-class conman or spy?"
"Why?" Neal snarked back, "thinking of being a con? You know it's more than waving your hand and going 'these are not the droids you are looking for'."
"Well, I'll do a better job than you. I won't get arrested."
"Ha! Seriously? You'll be arrested a week after your first attempt, if you last that long."
"Wanna bet?"
"No!" Chuck spoke up. "No bets! No cons! And no one at this table gets arrested!"
"Couldn't have said that better myself," Peter agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.
"I think they're friends," Neal whispered to Morgan. Morgan nodded in agreement.
Chuck and Peter shared a look. They weren't the only ones who appeared to be friends. As if to prove their unspoken point, Neal asked Morgan what happened with Alex and gave some suggestions on how to help.
"Neal is a hopeless romantic," Peter sighed to both Chuck and Morgan.
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Chuck responded, recalling Sarah's past relationship with Bryce. The guy was excitement, romance and good looks all bundled into one.
"I don't know whether to be proud of that or not," Neal mused.
Chuck drove Peter and Neal to the airport as Kevin. He wore the FBI suit, the gun and the badge around his neck since this was part of his office duties.
"Hey, Kevin," Neal said, "ever thought about coming to the New York office?"
"Ha! My wife would shoot me. She's not as fond of the city as you are."
Neal frowned at that. He didn't want this to be goodbye, he actually liked seeing Chuck.
"You could come for a visit. A conference or something. I'm sure I can find some way to spin it. For a few days at least," Peter said. "It'd be good experience."
"I'll think about it. Might be a good idea for you guys to have some backup up there. Just in case."
"Why do I not like the sound of that?" Peter mused, giving Neal a pointed look.
"Don't worry about it," Chuck said. He pulled the black FBI issued vehicle up at the airport. "And don't let the CIA know about Kevin."
Peter gave him a confused look which Neal saw and understood.
"It means it's Kevin we met, not Chuck," he explained. "Kevin with the name Kevin, with his blond wife, odd friends and a house in the suburbs. He's the only one in the house with a gun and that's the only weapon in there. No spies, no CIA, and we don't mention anyone named 'Chuck'."
"Neal, I know how being undercover works."
"Even though it's not technically being undercover?"
"I'm going to pretend it is, for the sake of my sanity." Although Peter didn't mention Bryce Larkin, Neal had the feeling that it applied to him too. Peter was going to pretend that hadn't happened, for Neal's sake.
The plane landed and to their surprise, El was waiting for them. She and Peter shared a kiss and then she looked between them.
"How was it?" she asked with a wide smile.
"Uneventful," Peter said.
"Maybe for you. I think there may be hope for the FBI yet," Neal said with his Caffrey grin.
"Right. Are we talking about when I had to extract you from the young agents who had you surrounded with their questions?"
"Quiet, Peter. They loved me!"
El laughed and they walked out to the care.
"Hey, I know a great little coffee shop!" Neal said to her. "Can we stop there before you drop me off at June's?"
Peter took the car keys from his wife's hands.
"Not happening, Caffrey. I'm driving."
Neal's body language openly displayed his disappointment.
Kevin was working alone at his desk with the lift doors opened and a blond came strutting out like it was a catwalk and not the FBI.
"Honey!" he gasped as she came closer. "What-why are you here?" he stammered.
"I'm here because we have a lunch date silly," she said, the right mix of seductive and babe that Kevin realised they probably had a mission waiting for him. Something time sensitive if his wife had come into the office.
"Kevin!" his Boss gave him the two finger point. "Take your lady out to lunch. I'll see you when you get back."
"Yessir!" Kevin called back, quickly hurrying her back the way she came.
"What are you doing here?" Chuck questioned again, once they were outside of the building.
"Beckman called," Sarah responded with a smile. "And I wanted to see your other work. Now, come on, the van's around the corner."
