Okay, a few things:
I never intend to spend a long time writing. I usually give myself a deadline of a week, but I'm a perfectionist. I will go back and forth, and try to figure out what is best. It'll take a while. This chapter has been the hardest to write. But because I feel bad that it's been such a long time since I last updated, I didn't slice and dice this chapter. The length is like two chapters in one. It's crazy lol.
So, bear with me. I actually am currently in the middle of the next chapter, writing and trying to get it done quickly. The faster I get it done, the faster I have to revise, the faster I have it up for you guys. And, reviews definitely make that process go along even faster. Let me know how you guys liked or didn't like this chapter. It'll help me sculpt the next chapter better for you all.
"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that just sounded, Chuck?"
"...I guess I have a bit of an idea."
"When did you guys get married?! Let me guess, when you guys up and left in the reception of our own wedding?"
"No."
"No?"
"No," interrupted Sarah, "Chuck had his interview that night, and I went with him. We got married the weekend before."
"When I was out of town, Ellie," said Chuck, "We went to D.C. to figure things out for Andy. I asked her to marry me and we just eloped. I didn't want to tell you, and have you freak out just before your wedding. Also didn't want to steal your guys' thunder..."
A loud sound from the outdoors distracted their thoughts immediately, or at least for everyone besides Ellie. She was able to eliminate all outside forces that could make her lose focus on the most important issue at hand- the apparent marriage of Chuck and Sarah. Her mouth just remained an inch or two open while her eyes burned into Chuck's. Chuck could have gotten distracted by this alone, but the integration of the spy life in his own life two years ago evoked him to ignore his sister's anger/confusion for the time being.
"What was that?" asked Chuck, turning to look at Sarah.
"I don't know," replied Sarah, as equally alarmed, "Probably the neighbors' dog chewing the gutters by the deck again. I'll check?"
"Okay."
"Wait," cut in Devon, "Bro, you're going to send your wife-"
"Your wife," repeated Ellie, rather stoic.
"You're going to let Sarah go outside and chase around your neighbors' dog in her nightgown? Since you're kind of new at this husband thing, let me give you some advice-"
"New at this thing? Devon, they've been married longer than us," muttered Ellie.
"Even if your wife suggests that they'll do it, do it for them. You're the man, so be the man."
"Thanks Devon. Good to know."
Closing the door, Chuck was fully outside and searched through his eyes for any signs of danger. He honestly couldn't see any, but Chuck of all people knew that just a glance was never enough. Right as he walked down the few steps from the deck to the concrete below, danger arose in the form of Chuck tripping and falling flat on some flowers and mulch.
"What the hell?" said Chuck, curling up his body a bit as he turned on his side.
"Yeah, how to do you like it now, Bartowski?" asked Casey, now before him holding a remote controller.
"Casey! What the hell?" repeated Chuck.
"Why don't you tell the kid to ever pick up his toys?"
"You tripped on this when it wasn't moving?" said Chuck, referring to the toy car at his feet, "Wow, Casey. I think you're starting to lose your touch."
Casey threw the remote at Chuck's head, but he blocked it instinctively and without the intersect's help. He rolled forward, finally getting the bearings to get up. Turning back to look where he fell, Chuck gasped.
"Sarah just planted these the other day! She's going to kill you."
"Are you sure you're not going to try?" asked Casey, a few steps away from Chuck, and standing at full attention.
"What?" said Chuck, "Why are you standing like that? You look like you're...constipated."
Casey grunted as he relaxed his stance.
"Wait, you thought I was going to flash, and go all crazy on you. You were afraid."
"How many times do I have to tell you that you talk too much?"
"Well, maybe you wouldn't get an overload of me talking if you would just find a hobby: maybe knitting, card castle making, or take up the oboe- instead of listening in on surveillance practically 24-7. Do you even sleep?"
"Speaking of surveillance, why's it off?"
"Funny you ask that-"
"Shut up. No big explanation. One sentence."
"Sarah and I...We-We're...Um-"
"Spit it out, Chuck."
"-We're being pretty intimate."
"Isn't the kid there?"
"He's sleeping. So if you want me to turn on the surveillance, so you can hear all the corny and cliche kind of stuff worthy of recognition in a Nicholas Sparks novel, then be my guest. But it'd make you either a sap or a creep. Take your pick."
"Alright, Bartowski, fine," sternly said Casey, pointing a finger at him, "But you better know what you're doing."
"What? I know what I'm doing with Sarah. What are you talking about?"
"Is your cover still secure?"
Putting the pieces together, Chuck responded, "Yeah, but it won't be if they find out you're out here."
Casey growled, "Fine. So I'm guessing you won't be needed a ride to the train."
"The train?"
"Work? First day."
"Dammit. I should get going."
Just as Casey started scaling the edge of the fence again, Chuck whispered, "You're not going to say anything, right?"
Shrugging and nodding, Casey decided to forget he knew Ellie and Devon were there. You see, Chuck hadn't closed the blinds to the family room which is directly adjacent to the kitchen. Casey only tripped on the toy car because he kept his eyes glued to the window, staring and moving at the same time.
In the sense that Casey was going to keep this a secret, he had lost his touch. John Casey was all for professionalism. He was practically the defender of the word itself. The old John Casey would've grunted before heading back to his own home to inform the General of the new possible threat to their cover. Actually, the old John Casey definitely would not have slept in and through the alarm in the wee hours of the morning alerting him that the surveillance had been turned off.
This new John Casey just grunted and headed off to his house with the only intention of starting another boring day in the suburbs by eating breakfast then cleaning his guns. He wasn't going to talk to the General at all today considering she only wanted to have briefings when there was something to brief about. Casey decided to trust that Sarah and most importantly Chuck would be able to handle the interference without the General interfering. Yeah, you could say John Casey was starting to lose his touch...Or maybe that his cold heart was now lukewarm? Maybe.
Chuck mentally began preparing himself at the back door before entering inside. He didn't hear yelling, but he assumed their house was sound proof thanks to the CIA home services. Assuming that Ellie and Sarah were yelling at each other and maybe Sarah being on the verge to explode in numerous forms of martial arts, he cringed as he finally turned the knob and entered. There wasn't any yelling. There weren't any words. Actually, Ellie and Awesome weren't even there. Sarah was doing the dishes as Andy handed them to her from the empty kitchen table.
"Where are they?"
"Ellie went upstairs as soon as you went outside. Devon followed her. I mean, she's still a bit shocked. I don't think she liked how you said it wasn't a big deal."
"I didn't really say that. Anyway, I don't handle things well when I'm taken off guard. You know that," explained Chuck, referring to both his normal life and spy life.
"This is true."
"Pretty big dog outside, huh?" asked Andy, giggling as he looked at the dirt ridden Chuck, "Hard to catch him?"
"Yeah. Ridiculous. Well, I need to get ready for work."
"Oh Andy, go with Chuck. I set everything up in your bathroom so you can take a shower and get ready. I'll finish up here."
"Thanks, Mom."
Andy dashed after Chuck while Chuck crouched down, expected him. He jumped on him, and Chuck began piggy backing him up the stairs. Once they reached Andy's room, Chuck pulled him over his shoulder, then lightly threw him on his bed.
"Alright, little guy. You need to go take your shower."
"Hey, I'm not the one covered in dirt."
"Touche."
"Hey Chuck?"
"Yup?"
"I wish you didn't have to go to work," said Andy, making the same serious look that Chuck has- the one where his eye fall and his lips purse.
"Me too, buddy. But on the plus side, Sarah will have to handle Ellie on her own."
"It's going to be okay, right?"
"Yeah," agreed Chuck, running a hand through his hair, "I think it will be."
Just out of the shower, Chuck stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom the size of a bedroom. It was something he always did while in underwear (black boxer briefs this morning) to access what to do with his head and face before getting dressed. Usually it would begin with a shave- something he's been doing religiously for years, but Chuck decided against it again. Something just didn't feel right about doing the same things he's done for years. He'd changed. He wasn't some nerd herder who had to pretend to be a secret agent. He was the supervisor of an IT department who really was a secret agent. And it wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing. The General said he was doing a good job. Peter Hollingsworth (regardless of his possible ring affiliation) said he had done a good job. This was all Chuck Bartowski, and not his pseudonym Charles Carmichael. Actually, the Charles Carmichael he had envisioned himself to be back at Stanford couldn't even hold a candle to the real him today.
Therefore, Chuck smiled as he rubbed his scruff before moving on to his hair. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since it'd been this short. Maybe middle school? Chuck digressed and spread pomade through his fingers. Then he ran them through his hair from front to back. While he was washing his hands, Sarah appeared in the bathroom behind him. She took off her nightgown right after she turned on the music in the bathroom. Muse happened to be on shuffle, and the song, "Supermassive Black Hole," started to blare from the surround sound speakers. Looking up after washing and drying his hands, Chuck turned around to greet her. She was now almost matching Chuck in exposed bare skin, except a lilac lace bra accompanied her matching underwear.
"Hey," mentioned Sarah as she took a towel out from the closet.
"Hey," replied Chuck, still not being able to keep his eyes off of her.
"It was Casey outside, right?"
"Yeah, he kind of knows, but I don't think he's saying anything to the general."
"Good..."
She set the towel beside the shower, coincidentally standing right next to Chuck. Turning around, there was only maybe a foot separating their chests.
"You only have an hour to get ready and then be downtown."
"I know. I'm cutting it close today which I think will be alright considering Peter Hollingsworth practically loves me, or just my astounding ability to work a computer."
"Okay, Chuck."
She pressed her hands against his chest and gave him a quick kiss. Afterward, Chuck's arms did not stray away from Sarah's lower back, and Sarah's hands continued to remain on his chest. It was a toss up of whether which one of them went in for the next kiss, but it went from slow to quick in just a few seconds. The speed and ferociousness gradually inclined in not only their kisses but also in their body movements. Chuck quickly turned her around and lifted her up to the sit on the counter, then stood between her legs. Right as Sarah's need for air became a necessity, it was as if Chuck knew, because his lips left hers to begin a sloppy trail of kisses down the middle of her neck. Her mind was a blur, but her arms were calculated as one gripped the edge of the counter and the other wrapped around Chuck's lowered head.
Suddenly feeling the beginning pressure of Chuck's lower half on her own, she snapped back to reality.
"We don't have time to make this quick, Chuck."
His last kiss pressed briefly to the top of her cleavage, and then Chuck went back to standing fully erect (no pun intended).
"You know, Sarah," said Chuck to her ear while his scruff skimmed the side of her face, "Like I said, I could be late."
He sucked on the lobe of her ear for just a second, before kissing his way from her ear to her mouth, along her cheek. As soon as tongues were involved, Sarah stopped again, pushed him slightly away from her, and then hopped off the counter.
"...But it is your first day, and first impressions mean a lot."
"Well, I do remember first meeting you, and thinking that you just seemed like some down to earth, calm, couldn't even hurt a fly kind of girl. Then I found out that really you were an intense and highly trained killing machine aka CIA agent. First impressions don't mean a thing. You know, 'cause I still found a way to fall in love with you."
"I have to take a shower. Go get ready."
"Oh, alright," said Chuck, as he walked to the door opposite of the bathroom's.
As he was looking through numerous suits, Sarah's voice blared over the sounds of the shower and music to Chuck in the closet.
"Well Chuck, you were so adorable and sweet when I first met you that I knew I didn't want to kill you for the information! First impression saved your life!"
"That's real nice, Sarah!" shouted back Chuck.
Once a dark navy suit was determined, he chose a medium blue spread collar dress shirt and a blue tie with small white polka dots to put on. After doing so to all chosen clothing items, there were a few things left to acquire before leaving. Next to his boxers, boxer briefs, and pocket squares were four watch boxes, all of them being Omega watches (a funny touch by the CIA as a nod to James Bond). After he eeny-meeny-miney-mo-ed one and subsequently put it on, the only thing left was to do was leave. Oh, and get his wallet from the nightstand.
Chuck stepped out of the bedroom looking quite fresh in all of his attire.
"Chuck?"
He looked up from buttoning the first button on his blazer. "Ellie?"
"Hey," said Ellie, exiting the guest bedroom still in her pajamas, "Where are you going?"
"I've got to go to work."
"But it's labor day."
"The markets don't close on labor day."
"You can't call in sick? Family emergency?" halfway joked Ellie.
"I'm sorry, sis," responded Chuck, "It's my first day at the new job."
"Well, that's okay...New suit?"
"Yeah," said Chuck, kind of wanting to say that it was one of many new suits, "Listen, I'll try to get off early. Maybe work the Bartowski magic with my boss. He's a pretty understanding guy, I think."
The silence was deafening, and Chuck hurriedly looked at his watch before saying, "Alright, well I've got to run."
"Wait, Chuck-" called out Ellie as Chuck was already halfway down the stairs.
He turned around. "Yeah?"
"I'm sorry I overreacted."
"No, Ellie, I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am. I should've told you about all of this. I mean, you're my sister."
"I know why you didn't tell me. I mean, you were right- dealing with all of this right before my wedding would've driven me insane. Dad had been MIA. The Awesomes were stressing me out. It would've been the worst time to lay this all on me."
"Indeed...And I'm sorry I like under-reacted when you found out. I wanted to possibly sit you down later, and lay it all out for you."
"Well, you can still do that, Chuck."
"Huh?"
"I mean, there's still a lot to explain. You got married, Chuck! I want to hear everything: when you knew you were going to propose, how you proposed, the wedding! I just wish I could've been there, you know?"
"Again, I'm sorry, Ellie."
"Stop saying you're sorry. Just promise we'll have that talk later?"
"Yeah," wearily said Chuck, "You can just ask Sarah all about that."
"Why Chuck? Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"No, it's just- I mean, I could go on for hours talking. You know me. But Sarah can give you the succinct and concise version- the reader's digest version! And I don't even know when I'll be home. Well, I'm going to try to get off early, but who knows? I could get backed up in paperwork being as it's my first day and all. I will try though. Okay, bye Ellie!"
Chuck ran up the few stairs, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He then ran quickly the opposite way through the kitchen, laundry room, and to the garage to get in his car. The entire process probably took a minute flat. Since he was too late to make the train, a drive to work was necessary. It also worked out since he now had his own parking spot in the parking garage for Morgan Stanley. With a few minutes to spare, Chuck stopped at a Dunkin Donuts for coffee. Pulling out of the drive thru, he took his first sip of the warm coffee.
During such, the General appeared on the navigation screen and her voice blasted through the sound system in his S4.
"Agent Bartowski."
Startled, Chuck spilled the coffee along his chin and practically all over himself.
"AH! Hot coffee! Hot coffee! Hot coffee!" yelled Chuck, while hurriedly plastering napkins he thankfully was given by the teenage Dunkin Donuts employee from before.
He turned down the volume, still cringing. "Good morning, General."
"I'm sorry about that, Chuck," said the General sternly, almost sounding not sorry at all.
"It's okay. I'm only a few minutes from home."
"No, you don't have time. It will dry, though I'm sure it will end up putting a stain all over your brand new Italian wool Ralph Lauren suit."
"Didn't know you were into fashion," mumbled Chuck, finally okay to start driving again.
"What was that?"
"There are some heads I'd like to bash in...of terrorists and other threatening people to the life, liberty, and happiness of our citizens?"
"Watch the road, Bartowski!"
"Okay!" exclaimed Chuck, doing what she told him.
"The reason I'm calling was not to wish you a good morning."
"I'm going to be honest-that's surprising. A little upsetting-"
"Enough of your antics, Chuck. I have a meeting with the president in five."
"Alright."
"Well, we're going to need you to copy the hard drive of Peter Hollingsworth when you're at work. All the materials to do so have been put in the replica briefcase of your own. The replica briefcase will be under your desk at exactly 9AM. That is why it's important that you get to work on time today."
"Wait-Wait a second. You want me to just stroll into Peter Hollingsworth's office, copy his hard drive, and get out of there without getting noticed?"
"Well, at a convenient time when Peter Hollingsworth is not there, yes."
"I don't know if I can do that. Can it wait until maybe tomorrow? I mean, look at me. Who wouldn't notice me? I'm covered in coffee."
"There is no question on whether or not you can do it. You are going to do it. Today. That's an order."
The screen went back to its usual blue with the radio station with the General no longer there. Chuck felt uneasy. Not only did this mission in particular sound impossible, he also didn't have Casey or Sarah coaching him through it. He had to do it on his own which made the other problem of coffee on him seem miniscule in comparison.
It was 9:04, and Chuck was on a speedy course to his office. After unsuccessfully trying to find his office in thinking a few others were his, he decided to ask someone for help. He approached a woman standing against a wall, seemingly doing nothing. The fact that she wasn't doing anything wasn't the only thing that struck Chuck as odd. If he were to give an age, it wouldn't be over 25. She also wasn't wearing what a normal business woman would wear. Instead, a colorful sundress was draped along her body, but complemented her striking blue eyes and brunette hair color in the best way. It were her oddities that made her seem like the prime person to ask for help, seeing as though Chuck viewed himself as quite an oddity.
"Hey-" asked Chuck. She turned around, but he continued, "Hi."
"Hello."
"I was wondering if you could help me-"
"Wait, are you Charles I. Bartowski?"
"Um, yes...If you were wondering, the 'I' is for Irving?"
"Really? Well, hi. I'm Emma Holden."
"Nice to meet you, Emma Holden," said Chuck, first moving his briefcase to his left hand so he could properly give her a handshake.
"The pleasure is mine, sir." She took it, smiling joyously as if she just met a celebrity.
"Who are you, Emma Holden?"
"Oh, well, technically I'm your administrative assistant, but I don't mind being called a secretary."
"Oh, wow, I get a secretary?"
"Of course. After all, you're-"
She took a step to reach her desk in front of her, and pulled one business card out of a box full of hundreds.
"Charles I. Bartowski: Senior Computation Technology Specialist-VP."
"What?" said Chuck, as Emma handed him his own business card.
"Did you want me to get them changed to say Irving?"
Chuck chuckled in amazement, "No, this is fine. This is more than fine."
"Why don't we go into your office, and I'll explain a little more. I'm supposed to give you a debriefing on all this."
"Wait," stopped Chuck before entering, "A debriefing?"
"I had a meeting with Mr. Hollingsworth before this to tell you all about your new job title, what it entails, and what your first order of business should be today. Mr. Hollingsworth wanted to welcome you himself, but he just stepped out for a meeting at the Chicago Board of Trade."
"Do you know when he'll be back?"
"I think in a few hours, but don't worry. I remembered everything he said. I even took notes."
"It's okay. I trust you."
Chuck sat down at his huge desk, and swiveled a bit in the chair, basking in the corporate glory. His old office at UBS was of normal size. It had two chairs in front of a simple wooden desk with a regular desktop sitting on top and to the right. His new desk was a huge U-shaped desk. On the horizontal side facing the window were three LCD monitors connected to modems and servers underneath. The front of the desk gave a clear view to the enormous office complete with a leather sofa sectional, a couple lounge chairs, and 52" LCD TV.
Emma took a place on the sofa nearest to the desk, crossed her legs, and started talking.
"Alright, Mr. Bartowski-"
"Oh, just Chuck is fine."
"Okay, Chuck...I'm supposed to tell you that your job here is quite different from the one at UBS hence all of this including myself."
"Please tell me you're going to tell me how."
She giggled. "Yes, I am. So at UBS you were just supervising the IT department. You made sure everything was running smoothly technologically wise. Well, it's kind of a different story here. Not only will you be maintaining peoples' software, but you'll be heading up teams to create new software. Apparently, you are the future of the technological side of this company...I think that was it."
"Did you come up with that yourself?"
"No, I was trying to go word for word with what Mr. Hollingsworth had said. Oh, and practically everyone in this office works under you."
"Seriously?"
"There are several teams in charge of different things. One is for maintenance, others are for software engineering, others are for developing ideas...I'd have to check my notes for the others."
"Don't worry about it."
"Okay, well on your desk is a portfolio of today's tasks that I've made for you."
Chuck flips through a few pages, amazed, then says, "Well this is highly detailed."
"Portfolios are kind of my passion."
"It would seem so."
"I'll be at my desk outside. If you need me, just intercom me."
"Alright. Thanks."
"It's going to be great working for you, Mr. Bar- I mean Chuck."
"You too, Emma Holden."
She walked out of the office, and shut the door behind her. Chuck decided to take the opportunity to try to finally access the coffee damage that befell him from earlier. He stood up up, first took off his blazer, shaking his head at the coffee splattered all over his lapels. Chuck then took off his shirt. The coffee had definitely left its imprint all over it, including his tie. Just as he started taking the wet pieces of clothing off to maybe make a run for the break room to hopefully wash out the coffee, Emma walked back into the office. Startled, she averts her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. I wasn't going to completely strip. I spilled coffee on myself earlier this morning."
"I noticed," said Emma, looking back towards Chuck.
"So what's going on? Another portfolio? I'm going to be honest, I haven't even started on the first."
"I have your pay information from UBS. The money has already been transferred into your Morgan Stanley account."
"What do you mean?" asked Chuck as he was handed the piece of paper from Emma.
"Even though you only worked there a week, you're still entitled to pay."
"Oh yeah..." whispered Chuck.
He looked at the piece of paper and then shrieked, "Who-ya."
Emma looked at him confused, but Chuck failed to notice. He was too busy examining the very large number indicating one week of pay at UBS. Remembering that he was being paid 20% more now at Morgan Stanley, Chuck wondered why this certain kind of business had never registered in his career ideas.
"Okay, I have an idea."
Chuck took the wallet out of his back pocket, and then handed a black Morgan Stanley card he had been given the day before to Emma.
"So this money has been transferred onto this?" asked Chuck, referring to the card.
"Correct."
"Well then, I have your first order of business to attend to for me. I take it you're good with fashion stuff?"
"I'm alright."
"This is no time to be modest."
"I'm pretty good."
"Good. Alright, take my card," said Chuck, handing it to her, "I'm going to need you to get me a new suit, shirt, and tie."
"Seriously?"
"I look ridiculous. I mean, I saw how you looked at me when you first saw me. It was like you were hoping I wasn't the clutz you had to call boss."
"I don't know what your size is."
"Oh...Oh! If you call the Ralph Lauren store down here, they should have my measurements for a classic or modern style suit. Well, that sounded strange. I got fitted for a few suits and a tuxedo there around a week ago," recalled Chuck. Sarah and the government (aka the General) really had sent him on a mission to get fitted. Very exciting.
"Do you want me to go there?"
"Go anywhere. The world is your oyster. Well, at least for today. And take your time. There is absolutely no rush."
"But you're covered in coffee."
"I've been like this for a while now. It's almost a part of me. I'll be fine for a couple hours."
"Okay?"
"Okay, so...Have fun!"
Emma still held the card in front of her as she walked away still confused. Chuck was relieved, and it wasn't just because he wasn't going to have to go around with stained clothes all day. As soon as she handed him the account statement, his shock turned into a slight epiphany. He figured that with Emma gone (the only person who recognizes him in the office), and with of course Peter Hollingsworth gone (the only person who recognized him on the top floor offices), this was the perfect time to do what the General had wanted him to do.
He quickly redressed, retrieved the replicate briefcase from the bottom right of his desk, and then placed his original one underneath the desk.
Speed-walking, Chuck just figured the quicker he got it done, the less time it would be to stress about, and Chuck was already stressing about it completely even beforehand. He was slightly perspiring along his neck, and so he unbuttoned the top button and loosened his tie, briefly playing homage to what he used to do all the time with his uniform at the Buy More. After asking the receptionist at the top floor where his office was, Chuck now only had to deal with Peter's secretary, but Chuck had been thinking of the excuses on the way.
"What can I do for you, sir?" asked the lady sitting behind the desk of what resembled a waiting room.
"Hi, I'm the new guy."
"The new guy? We have a lot of new employees here."
"Oh, okay. Well then," said Chuck, as he took a business card out of his pocket, "This is me."
"Oh my gosh, you're Chuck Bartowski. I've heard a lot about you. Mr. Hollingsworth just raves about you."
"I guess that's me."
"Well Mr. Bartowski, you might want to come back a little later. Mr. Hollingsworth won't be back for another couple hours."
"Actually, I think I'm going to wait. I don't really have much to do." Chuck cringed at the thought since the portfolio still sat on his desk pretty much untouched.
"Okay, well take a seat."
"Do you mind if I just wait in his office? I need to make some phone calls on my cell, and I don't want to disturb you."
"I really wouldn't mind."
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear me yabbering away about computer jargon on my stupid phone for an extended amount of time."
"Well, if you say so, I don't see why you can't wait inside."
"Thank you so much."
Once Chuck went inside and closed the door, he got to work. He sat down at the chair in front of Peter's laptop, and then flipped it over to take it apart. His trusty little replica briefcase held a number of things. It was like a nerd herder doctor bag. He unscrewed the bottom, took out the battery, and then popped the hard drive out. He connected the hard drive to a device that hooked up to his own laptop through the USB cable. The laptop looked like a replica of his own (the one in the original briefcase); but being the computer savvy person that he was, he knew differently. The new laptop was a step up. It had a faster processor, more memory, and a larger hard drive. Basically, it was the laptop perfect for this job. On his old laptop, this probably would've taken around a half hour. Now, it should only take ten minutes.
Since he had 10 minutes, Chuck decided to take this opportunity to try to flash on any other stuff in Peter's office. He went through drawers, and couldn't find anything. Just behind the desk was a painting. Going on the instinct that important people usually have vaults hidden behind pictures in movies, Chuck looked and was proven right. A flash was induced right when he saw the vault. He had instructions on how to successfully open it. The job required tools, tools that Chuck definitely didn't have in his briefcase.
Trying to access what he was supposed to do, Chuck didn't have much time since his computer made a noise to indicate that it was finished with the upload. Figuring that the safe was not on his mission platform, he put the painting back on the wall, and reassembled Peter's computer.
Chuck's first approved mission on his on was about to be complete. Chuck smiled gallantly while he walked towards the door to leave with everything he needed. The door opened before he could, and in walked Peter Hollingsworth in the flesh. Chuck's heart rate started to beat quicker as the idea of Peter arriving just a minute earlier would've blown his cover completely. It also spiked with the idea that he had to start giving an explanation to him.
"Chuck, what a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Peter, extinguishing any nervous thoughts by Chuck immediately.
"Hi, Mr. Hollingsworth."
"No, it's Peter!" excitingly said Peter, "What are you doing here? How is everything down below?"
"Oh, it's perfect."
"Perfect? But you have coffee all over you," laughed Peter.
"Oh yeah," responded Chuck, "This happened on my way to work. I sent Emma, my new secretary, to fetch me some new clothes."
"How is she?"
"She's great."
"Can you give her a call? My meeting was canceled, and I haven't eaten anything. Maybe she can pick us up some breakfast. Are you hungry?"
"I'm actually alright," responded Chuck in a slightly high pitched voice induced by nervousness.
"Well, then I'll just have her pick me up maybe a few scones on her way back. Do you have her cell number?"
"I actually do not."
"Okay, get out your cell. I'll give you her number. I have her file right over here."
"You know, Peter, I'm an idiot. I left my cell back in my office," said Chuck, briefly recalling that it was in his original briefcase.
"Then I'll just e-mail you the information, and call her myself."
"Okay."
"Alright..."
"Alright, I should get back to work. You know, you're not paying me to do nothing."
"Wait, Chuck-"
"Yes sir?" asked Chuck, turning around at the door.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"Oh...I was wondering...I was going to ask you if maybe I could go home early today. My sister and brother in law surprised us in flying out here last night, and they're only going to be here for a very short time. If I can't, then that's fine. You know, I have a lot of work to catch up on, and I would totally understand-"
"Chuck, that's fine. You have many people under you for a reason. You know, so you can tell them what to do. Leave a couple hours early. That's an order."
"And I do follow orders," said Chuck, now pausing at how odd that came out, "Thank you, sir."
Peter nodded right before Chuck exited the room. He gripped his briefcase tightly as he walked back to his office, confident that he completed his mission without doing something wrong.
Peter waited just a minute before calling the intercom to speak with his secretary outside.
"Nancy, what don't you get about a damn waiting room? It's there for a reason!!!" yelled Peter, displaying a complete 180 degree change from his previous jolly demeanor with Chuck.
"I'm so sorry, sir. Mr. Bartowski insisted that he wait in your office. He said he had to make a few phone calls on his cell."
"On his cell?"
"Yes. On his cell. That's what he said. He said he didn't want to disturb me. It sounded like he had to make important calls."
"Interesting. Well, if you let another person come into my office while I'm not here, you'll be out of your fucking job."
He slammed down the phone and then breathed heavily, trying to gain his composure back. Once he did, he picked the phone back up and dialed a number he knew by heart.
"Hey honey, Chuck's making you scrounge around the city for clothes?"
"Yeah, but it's not that bad," replied Emma.
"Listen, I think I'm right about him. Remember to watch him closely. Carefully monitor what he's doing. I didn't hire you for nothing."
"Well, I thought you hired me because I'm your daughter."
"Well that too. And don't forget to pick up your daddy some scones on your way back."
You don't have to review, but I would extremely like it if you would. lol.
