Two Sides of the Same Coin 8/?

Author: dettiot

Rating: M for language, sex and violence

Summary: When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: Another chapter that combines missions from two different episodes. There's danger, excitement, secrets are revealed and a face from the past returns . . . got your attention? Then dive on into chapter 8! And don't forget to leave a review.

XXX

With the number of times she had needed to rehab injuries, she should have figured out a way to be more patient about it. Sometimes she wished she was one of those zen types, the kind of person who would use an injury as time to work on her other flaws or meditate or shit like that. But instead, she obsessed about each tiny improvement in her injury and kept testing herself to see if she could get back to real work instead of the piles and piles of reports that got foisted on her.

But after a week, when she was no further along, a mission presented itself that came with an agent who could take her place. Although frankly, Sarah didn't think that Carina Miller was in the same league as she was. Putting aside the comparisons of the DEA vs. the CIA, Carina was a much bigger risk-taker than Sarah. She rarely followed orders, especially when it meant she could climb the ladder. While Sarah was all for being ambitious, there were limits. But Carina didn't see it like that and that annoyed Sarah.

Or maybe it was just the way Carina eyed Chuck like he was a very tasty-looking piece of meat that was really annoying her.

Carina's arrival had been preceded by a message from Graham, letting Sarah and Casey know that she was coming. It also indicated that Chuck's true role and identity should be kept from Carina "as much as possible."

Mr. Bartowski's unique position depends upon secrecy. If at all possible, he should not flash or display usage of the Intersect in Agent Miller's presence. Furthermore, Agent Miller is not to be made aware of Mr. Bartowski's Agency affiliation.

By that, Sarah took to mean that Carina shouldn't know that Chuck was really Carmichael. Which she had no problem with, frankly. It'd be tricky enough to deal with keeping Carina away from Chuck-if Carina knew who Chuck really was, it'd be even more of a goal for the DEA agent to nab Chuck for herself. Even without knowing that Carmichael was responsible for the best night of Sarah's life.

For once, Carina got right down to business once she arrived. She began with the target and the mission.

"Peyman Alahi is suspected of planning to use a diamond, currently in his possession, to fund his drug smuggling operations," Carina said, passing around photos of Alahi. "We want to acquire that diamond, thus crippling his organization."

"Check out the hair sweater on this guy," Chuck said after a moment, leaning in to get a better look at the photo. Sarah suspected that Chuck had flashed but had kept back what he had learned, as they had instructed him.

Casey grunted and Carina rolled her eyes. "Alahi is throwing a party tomorrow afternoon," Carina said. "Chuck and I will go in and find where the diamond is located within his compound."

"No recovery?" Casey asked.

Carina shook her head. "No, just recognizance."

It was all Sarah could to hold back a snort. She seriously doubted that Carina would restrict herself to that. She also didn't like the idea of Chuck and Carina together. "I should come along, too," she said, leaning forward. "After all, Chuck's not an agent. If anything happens, it's too dangerous for him."

"Oh, no?" Carina said, her voice expressing too much studied innocence to be believable. "I thought he was. Why else would he be working with us?"

Standing up quickly, Sarah ignored the twinge she felt in her injured leg. "Agent Miller, we should have a word." Without waiting for any objections or further niceties, she took Carina by the arm and dragged her into one of the holding cells. "Okay, spill," Sarah said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Spill? Spill what?" There was that damn "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" tone. Combined with the small smirk on her face, it was clear that Carina knew something.

"Do you really think that innocent act will work on me?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you know, Carina?"

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were working with Charles Carmichael?" Carina said. "And why does he look like some schlub and has everyone calling him Chuck?"

Sarah could feel her normal headache make its return. The one she got whenever she considered Chuck-is-really-Carmichael-but-only-kinda. She rubbed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, then looked at Carina. "I thought you didn't know Carmichael."

Carina snorted. "Please. I might not have met him, but I sure as hell know what he looks like. And that's Charles Carmichael in the other room."

And just like that, Sarah was faced with lying to someone who was more than a colleague but less than a friend, just so that she wasn't going against orders. "No, it's not. It may look like Carmichael, but he's Chuck Bartowski, asset and CIA analyst."

Her blue-green eyes narrowing, Carina's gaze pinned Sarah. "Really?"

"Really," Sarah said, using all of her acting skills to put this over. "He's just Chuck. Not Carmichael."

She wasn't sure if Carina bought it. And honestly, some days she was surprised that she didn't have more problems with it. But it was critical that Carina not know the truth-

"Bullshit."

Blowing out a breath, Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "Okay, maybe it's a little bullshit, but c'mon, Carina. I've got orders."

"When have you ever been that worried about following orders?" Carina said, hitching a hip up onto the table in the cell. "You weren't this much of a stick-in-the-mud when we worked together in Miami."

"When there's civilians involved, like Chuck, I get more cautious," Sarah said with a shrug.

With a roll of her eyes, Carina stood up. "Okay, so Chuckles, in spite of his resemblance to Carmichael, is just your average guy. It's too bad-I've heard rumors that Carmichael's a tiger in the sack. Figures that the time I cross his path, it's not really him."

The thing that Sarah should be focusing on was Carina's repeated disbelief in Chuck not being Carmichael. The way that the DEA agent wasn't accepting her explanations. But instead, it was the slight leer in Carina's voice that made Sarah tense.

"Carina . . . you're not going to try anything with Chuck, are you?" As soon as the question was out of her mouth, Sarah fought the urge to wince. Of all the ways to persuade Carina to back off, the questioning, deferential type of approach was the last one that would work.

"Why not? It's just a cover for you and Bartowski, the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, isn't it?"

To Sarah's shock, Carina's question wasn't needling. It wasn't like she was trying to get a rise out of her. It was almost like Carina was asking seriously. Like she thought there was really something there-

"Of course it's just a cover," Sarah said instinctively. "There's no way I'd get involved with an asset. But that doesn't mean you can try to seduce Chuck-you're not exactly subtle and Chuck's family and friends have already questioned what's going on with me and Chuck. Have expressed some doubt in the cover at times."

"Need to go back to seduction training? If you just start visiting crappy bars in second-rate watering holes, you're bound to run into Roan Montgomery. I bet he'd be happy to give you a refresher." Carina smirked at Sarah. But instead of getting angry, Sarah had to laugh. Because really, this whole damn situation was just crazy.

"There's no complaints on my seduction abilities. But seriously, Carina-leave Chuck alone."

Carina let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, all right. If you insist. He wouldn't be much of a challenge, I suppose."

"He might surprise you," Sarah said, watching as Carina stood up and straightened her dress. "I was the one who had to make the move on him when we were trying to bring him in."

"Oh, I didn't mean that," Carina said. "I doubt he even noticed what color my eyes are-he was too busy looking at you."

It wasn't often that Sarah was struck dumb. Especially by someone who wasn't Chuck. But as she watched Carina leave the cell, her heels clicking against the floor and her hips swaying, Sarah felt her thoughts go slow and sticky.

Chuck was looking at her? After everything that had happened between them, he might still be interested in her? That was just . . . there was no way that he might still-

Sarah gave her head a shake. There was work to be done and she was mooning around like some teenage girl with a crush. And that wasn't what she was.

XXX

As Carina skipped over the waves on her watercraft, Sarah rounded on Chuck. "What the fuck is going on, Chuck?" she said, glaring at him. "You let Carina take the diamond, the diamond we weren't going to try and recover today in the first place-you just let her take it?"

Ever since the start of today's mission, she had felt a half-step off. Like she wasn't ready for this. She didn't understand why; physically it had been completely non-demanding until Carina had stolen the diamond and took off. She had tested her leg more than she should have, but so far she was okay. But more than that, something had been wrong. Having Carina there, interfering with the dynamic between herself and Chuck-because Carina hadn't stopped flirting with Chuck, not that he had noticed-put Sarah on edge.

And now, to make matters even worse, Chuck had turned the diamond over to Carina!

"I flashed! I flashed," he said quickly. "Alahi isn't going to use the diamond to buy more drugs-he was using it to buy his way into Fulcrum. So when Carina looked like she was gonna take it, I went along with her because I couldn't tell her what I knew and you were off getting pawed by Alahi."

"Are you saying I was shirking my job? Because getting pawed by sweaty, hairy men is part of what I do," Sarah said, unable to keep her anger at bay.

"No!" Chuck said, looking aghast. "I just meant-I had to think fast and I couldn't ask you so I just-I followed Carina's lead."

Sarah rubbed a hand over her face. "The problem is, Carina will turn the diamond over to the DEA to look good to her bosses. But we need that diamond in order to find Alahi's Fulcrum contacts."

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, looking down at her. "I-I didn't know what to do . . ."

Somehow, she found a smile for him. "It's okay, Chuck. Let's-damn it!"

There were several men approaching them. Clad all in black and carrying handguns, they must be Alahi's men. Grabbing Chuck's hand, she started running across the beach. "Casey!" she shouted into the mike in her bracelet. "Where are you? We need extraction now!"

"Nearly there!" Casey said, his voice even and steady. The words were barely out of his mouth before a black SUV pulled up in front of them and she saw Casey through the window.

Chuck had managed to keep up and yanked open the front passenger door as she opened the back door. They both got into the SUV and Casey took off, a few bullets pinging off the car. But they quickly escaped, giving them a chance to catch their breath.

"Miller took off with the diamond?" Casey said, pulling the SUV onto a paved road and heading towards Burbank.

She nodded. "Yeah. Gonna have to get it back. Alahi was going to use it to buy his way into Fulcrum."

Casey grunted. "Seems kinda risky for Fulcrum, lettin' in someone like Alahi."

Shrugging, Sarah leaned forward. "He's got a lot of resources-maybe that's what Fulcrum wants. Chuck, did you get anything else from your flash?"

He shook his head. "No-just that Alahi was supposed to make the exchange tomorrow."

"Great-he's gonna be desperate to get that diamond back, and he knows just who's got it," Casey said, turning the wheel to get onto the highway.

She rubbed her calf, trying to massage away the pain she felt from all of the running today. When the rolled up the pant leg of her jumpsuit, the bandage wrapped around her calf was bloody. But she kept that to herself. "Casey, you should go after Carina and get the diamond back. Meet me at Castle."

"What about me? I've got a shift but I could blow it off . . ." Chuck turned in his seat to look at her and she quickly pulled her pant leg back down.

"No, go ahead to the Buy More," Sarah said. "I can watch you on the surveillance cameras. Once we've got the diamond, we can move against Alahi and take him into custody."

"You're sure? Your leg isn't bothering you, is it?"

Sarah took a look at Chuck, searching his face to see if he had caught sight of her bloody bandage. But no, his guileless brown eyes were full of concern, not suspicion. She gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. Just go to work and we'll handle things from here."

Chuck didn't look fully convinced, but he nodded and turned to face forwards. Sarah leaned back against her seat and tried to gather her strength. She suspected she would need it.

XXX

Sometimes, it sucked when you were right.

Moving slowly down the stairs, Sarah slumped into a chair at the conference table in the center of Castle, staring blearily at the video screens. They showed the places that were under surveillance as part of Operation Bartowski: the Buy More, the Orange Orange, Chuck's bedroom, the courtyard of his apartment complex. Out of habit, her eyes flicked from one screen to another as her mind went over everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

As soon as Casey left to retrieve the diamond, things had gone to shit. Carina had gotten the drop on him and scurried off, only to be captured by Alahi's men and held for ransom. She had bluffed them into thinking she didn't have the diamond, telling them that Sarah had it. With Casey and Chuck, they had saved Carina and arrested Alahi. It had all worked out, but it had seemed touch and go way too often for Sarah's comfort. And with her leg acting up . . .

Sarah glared at her leg and lifted it up to rest her foot on the seat of a chair. Now she'd definitely have to take it easy for a few days. Casey had already told her if she tried to come in to Castle for the rest of the week, he'd take her to the hospital and sic Ellie on her. Which was playing dirty, in Sarah's opinion, but he'd made the ultimatum and she wasn't about to face Ellie's disappointment and doctorly clucking. So it looked like she was taking the rest of the week off. Although she certainly wasn't going to do nothing-there was plenty of research she could do while sitting on her ass.

"How's the leg, Walker?" Carina asked as she breezed into the room, followed by Casey.

She mock-glared at the other woman. "Fine," she said, shooting a look at Casey. He grunted and wandered off towards the shooting range, leaving them alone.

Carina leaned against the conference table. "So how much longer do you have here?"

"Seven months or so," Sarah said, leaning back in her chair. "Why, you want to spend Christmas in California and need to know if I'll still be here?"

"Nope, just wondering how long you'll have to put up this act. With Carmichael pretending to be Chuck Bartowski and him being crazy about you." Carina eyed Sarah. "And you definitely being interested in him."

Looking up at Carina, Sarah knew what she should do. Especially with being inside Castle, she should deny Chuck's true identity and refuse to discuss whether he might have feelings for her. It would be against orders, against protocol, to discuss this with Carina.

But she was just so damn tired. Tired and confused and lost, and Carina was the closest thing she had to a friend. It was funny how that worked out-she barely knew Carina, but somehow she got the sense that anything she told her would be kept in confidence. That she wasn't going to blab things to every CIA agent she encountered.

And maybe she was just tired of keeping quiet. So Sarah broke the rules.

"Okay. Yeah, he really is Carmichael," she said, her voice low. "But he doesn't know that."

"What the fuck?" Carina asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

She glanced around and leaned forward. "I can't get into it, but just suffice it to say, he really does think he's Chuck Bartowski. He has no idea he's a CIA agent or that his real name is Charles Carmichael. So he's not pretending."

"Whoa. That's trippy," Carina said.

"That's one way of putting it," Sarah said, rubbing her temples.

"So he thinks he's just some geek, and then you come into his life . . . no wonder he's crazy about you," Carina said. "But what I don't get is why you like him."

"I told you, it's just a-"

"Don't give me that," Carina interrupted her. "You like him." Her lips twisted. "You haven't slept with him-this isn't about sex. You actually seriously like this guy."

If she admitted to liking Chuck, that would lead to revealing way too much. About how she had worked with Carmichael before, about that night in the Dominican Republic, about how ever since she met him her life had seemed like a mess. And Sarah couldn't do that. She could feel her throat closing up at the possibility of talking about this. The small amount of trust she had in Carina wouldn't be enough for this confession. Honestly, Sarah doubted there was anyone she trusted enough to give them the whole story.

When the silence got too thick, Sarah stood up and shuffled some file folders. "You've got a ride to catch, right?"

Carina nodded, her eyes narrowed. Then, to Sarah's surprise, she leaned over and loosely hugged her. "Take it easy, Walker. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That leaves nothing," she said, managing to smile a little, grateful for once she had come up with something funny to say.

Rolling her eyes, Carina smirked. "Good to see you. Say goodbye to Casey for me-and tell him I liked the four-leaf clovers."

"Nope," Sarah said, smiling wider. "See you when I see you."

And as she watched Carina walk away, Sarah found that she hoped she'd see the DEA agent again sometime. Because she did make life interesting. And it was different, to feel like she had a friend. Maybe not according to normal rules of friendship, but then, they were spies. Normal didn't really come into play.

Sarah focused on gathering some paperwork together, getting ready to leave Castle, when something on the video screens caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she realized that in the Orange Orange, Carina was talking to Chuck.

Scrambling for the remote, Sarah quickly turned on the sound for the feed from the yogurt shop.

" . . . you know, I still have a few hours before I have to leave," Carina was saying, running her eyes up and down Chuck. "Plenty of time to get a hotel room."

"Oh-oh, um, that is . . . that is a tempting offer, but-"

Watching Chuck splutter and stammer in the face of Hurricane Carina, Sarah was ready to head for the stairs, so she could send Carina on her way and rescue Chuck. But Carina's words made her freeze in her tracks.

"Worried about Sarah finding out?"

Chuck's eyes, already wide, became the size of dinner plates. "What? What, that's-that's ridiculous. I mean, Sarah and me, we're-we're just friends. I mean, it's a cover, her being my girlfriend. And that-that's why I have to say no, even though you're very beautiful and very alluring and I'm really stupid."

Carina sighed heavily, playing with her hair. "You're sure?" she asked, looking at him from under her lashes.

She was good, Sarah had to admit. If Chuck was a lesser man, that look would have been enough to get him over his hesitation.

"Why-why would you want-I mean, why me?" Chuck blinked at Carina, looking truly confused and lost. Sarah felt a pang at the thought that Chuck was so unused to being hit on, to being appreciated for who he was. It was a side of him that he kept hidden behind self-deprecating smiles and humor, but seeing it so nakedly displayed on his face . . .

It was hard to tell on the black and white video screen, but it looked like Carina was looking deep into Chuck's eyes. She leaned in close to him and Sarah had to turn up the volume to hear what she said.

"Because Sarah wants you, even though the rules say she can't have you. But the rules don't mean anything to me."

Those long eyelashes of Chuck's, the ones that she was rather jealous of, fluttered as he blinked. "W-what? Sarah-me? No, no, it's just a cover, like I said. She-she told me she doesn't . . . "

Oh, she was gonna kill Carina. Slowly, inventively, leaving Carina's corpse in an embarrassing position. Like stuffed with Swedish meatballs inside an IKEA.

Slowly, Carina ran her eyes up and down Chuck. Like she was measuring him. Then she gave a small shrug of her shoulders, her expression becoming rueful. "She just doesn't know what she wants yet. But I do."

What the hell did that even mean? Yeah, Carina was kind of a friend, but it wasn't like she knew Sarah inside and out. How could she think she knew what Sarah wanted? Her eyes narrowed as she watched Carina brush her hand over Chuck's shoulder, her fingers sliding down his arm and checking out his muscles before walking out of the Orange Orange.

Sarah blinked and eased herself down into a chair, feeling a bit thrown as the impact of Carina's words began to sink in. Could Carina see that she had feelings for Chuck? Did she even have feelings for him? Even now after what had happened with Lou and all that heartbreak and drama, when she had vowed to become more professional and keep Chuck as only an asset in her mind, she was still failing?

Why couldn't she get her shit together? Sure, Chuck was a great guy. Yeah, he had been, all in all, the model of a cooperative asset. And the fact that he was sweet and smart and respectful should be just a bonus, something that made the job a little easier than her typical assignments. But her history with Carmichael, the very nature of this mission-there was no way she should have feelings for Chuck.

And if she did have feelings for him, she certainly shouldn't be so obvious that Carina could pick up on it. For fuck's sake, even Chuck seemed to sense she had feelings for him, if the whole debacle with the truth serum wasn't proof enough. She had just assumed that she had done her job too well and made him think there was something there that wasn't . . . but what if Carina was right? What if she just didn't know what she wanted?

Even though she had a strong urge to bury her face in her hands, Sarah made herself stand up and gather the folders she had collected. She was now officially on leave because of her injury, and right now, a break from Chuck Bartowski was just what she needed. A few days away from all this confusion would be enough to get her back on track.

XXX

There had to be some kind of simple test to give yourself to determine if you were going crazy, right?

Slapping shut the laptop she had borrowed from Castle, Sarah pushed away from the desk and went to her hotel room's balcony. The cool sea breeze whipped her hair as she leaned her arms on the railing, gazing out at the waves.

It had been three days since she had last been in Castle. Each day of her absence, Casey phoned her with a terse report on what was going on, which wasn't much. So mostly he was just complaining about Chuck. That didn't help much with her goal of trying to get her head straightened out, but hell, it wasn't like it was the first time her job got in the way of her mental health.

Thus the attempts at using Google to find online sanity diagnostics, which had failed miserably. So had her more low-tech method of list-making, although it had become her go-to method for dealing with most challenges. But making a list was only as good as the question she was asking herself and how honest she was willing to be. And so far, she was pretty sure that she wasn't honest enough.

It was one thing if Chuck thought she had feelings for him, based on their cover relationship and what she had to do to maintain appearances for Chuck's family and friends. It was something very very different if she had actual feelings for Chuck. Feelings that shone through around other people, like Carina. Feelings that went beyond the cover and could possibly be real. Maybe. A little bit.

Or maybe it was all just residue from what happened with Carmichael. That could be it, couldn't it? They clicked while working a mission together, had a night of the best sex ever, then he left with only a lame note to show he'd even been there. Admittedly, the longer she knew Chuck the harder it was to think about Carmichael when she looked at him-at Chuck, that is. But she had to consider that whatever feelings she might be showing towards Chuck were because of what happened with Carmichael.

Yet Sarah had to discount that possibility. Because Chuck was his own person, so distinct and different from Carmichael. Yeah, they seemed to have some things in common. There was the respect for her as an equal when it came to the job. They had a similar sense of humor-neither of them took themselves that seriously and were self-deprecating to different extremes. And they both were complete geniuses.

But . . . but she couldn't seem to shake the belief that Chuck wasn't Carmichael. Chuck had his nerdy pastimes, his affection and love for his sister, his friendship with Morgan. Carmichael didn't seem to have any of that. The agent might be the most accomplished man in the CIA, but Sarah doubted he was much fun to spend time with when he wasn't working. Chuck, on the other hand, was so full of passion and excitement for life, even with the way life had knocked him down. She admired that about him.

Chuck might be a manufactured personality, but she liked him. But just because she liked him, it didn't mean she wanted more, did it?

Nibbling on her lower lip, Sarah turned into her apartment and grabbed her ever-present notepad. Curling up on one of the green overstuffed chairs by the balcony, she began writing down the things she felt about Chuck. And as the list grew, covering first one and then two pages of paper, her heart sank. Because it looked like Carina might be right.

The ringing of her phone couldn't have come at a better time. She leaped to her feet, noticing in the back of her mind that for the first time her leg hadn't felt a twinge of pain from her injury, and grabbed her cell phone. "Walker."

"Bartowski just found a bug in the Buy More."

Casey's voice was tense, which made Sarah's alarm bells go off, even as she felt confused. "Yeah, so? We've got bugs all over the-"

"It's not one of ours," Casey said. "It's a GLG-20."

Sarah grimaced. "We have a problem," she said, stating the obvious. Because they both knew who used GLG-20s: Fulcrum.

Casey let out his annoyed grunt. "No shit. We need to get everything out of the Buy More tonight while it's closed and find the receiver."

"Okay, call in a squad and I'll meet you at the Buy More tonight after it closes. I suppose for a national security emergency, I'm allowed back into Castle?" Sarah asked, heading to her closet to grab some clothes.

"Hell, yeah. Get here in an hour-we gotta call this in and if we're gonna get reamed out by the bosses, we'll face it together."

She stopped, holding a shirt in her hand, at Casey's words. Although they had gotten over their initial animosity, their partnership wasn't of the warm and fuzzy variety. Yet Casey was a good partner, and hearing him express a desire for them to face possible punishment together . . . it made her feel like something had changed.

"Okay," she said, feeling too taken aback to actually say that to Casey. And he'd probably make some crack about not having lady feelings if she did bring up their partnership. "See you in an hour."

He hung up the phone without another word and Sarah started getting dressed. Her mind was racing at the thought of Fulcrum bugging the Buy More. Had they screwed up somewhere? Did they know that Chuck was the Intersect? Fulcrum was so crazy about making better spies, and the Intersect was a perfect way of doing just that. Or could it be more simple and they were really after Carmichael? She knew through the grapevine that he had been doing a lot of work against Fulcrum prior to the Intersect project. And with Carmichael dropping off the radar, Fulcrum had probably freaked out and threw a bunch of resources towards finding him.

Either way, this wasn't good. And she was sure that Graham and General Beckman were going to be pretty pissed.

XXX

"It could be that Operation Bartowski will have to come to a premature close."

Sarah exchanged glances with Casey, then turned back to the video screens. "Meaning what, General?"

"We find a way to remove just the Bartowski personality from Agent Carmichael and in the meanwhile, he's in a bunker for his own protection," Beckman said bluntly.

"Time is of the essence, agents," Graham said, leaning in towards the camera on his end of the video connection. "If that receiver is not found within twenty-four hours, we'll have to take steps to protect Carmichael."

"Understood. General, Director, we'll get to work," Casey said. Sarah was too surprised to do anything more than nod before the link was disconnected.

"You and I both know that they won't exactly hurry to get Chuck outta Carmichael," Casey said, eyeing Sarah.

"No, they won't," Sarah said slowly. "It'd be a lot easier to control Chuck than Carmichael. And now that they know the Intersect can be used successfully, they'll want to have access to it for as long as they can. Longer than a year."

"Exactly. So we better get our asses in gear," Casey said. "The retrieval team should be waiting for us at the Buy More."

Throughout the long night of packing up the Buy More's contents-all its contents-and transporting it to a CIA warehouse, Sarah's thoughts were in a whirl. She was almost grateful for the robotic nature of the job, with the cataloging and inventorying, because it let her think without screwing up her work.

Because she had a lot to think about. About Chuck, about Carmichael, about the Intersect. And about how she felt about how the CIA and the NSA might use those things to their advantage.

Keeping Agent Charles Carmichael locked up in a bunker for his "protection," while compelling him to use the Intersect, would be a tricky proposition. With Carmichael's skills and the bonus of the Intersect, it wouldn't be hard for him to break his way out and disappear. So Beckman's words to the contrary, there was a huge benefit for the powers-that-be to keep the Chuck personality intact for as long as he was in the bunker. Which could be forever.

Her lips twisted with disgust. She should have seen that coming. Should have known that all the concern about damaging Carmichael's brain was just a front until they realized if he could handle the Intersect. And now that they knew he was capable, they weren't about to let this valuable tool be gone in a year.

So they'd put Chuck in a bunker and make him flash as much as possible and keep him there for as long as they could. Never mind that Carmichael was one of the best, never mind that Carmichael was much more useful in the field than in a bunker. The CIA and NSA would be too busy patting themselves on the back, too impressed with their American determination to make the Intersect work despite the earlier failures, to consider how they were imprisoning one of their own for nothing.

And even worse would be the effect on Chuck. He wouldn't be able to handle being in a bunker, cut off from his family and friends, without any kind of support system or normal everyday structure. Just like Carmichael, he'd be imprisoned when he'd done nothing wrong. And while Carmichael at least would have the ability to escape, Chuck wouldn't. Chuck would be consigned to that bunker with no hope, no escape . . .

Shaking her head, Sarah focused on scanning the items from the Buy More. Right now, the priority was finding the receiver for the GLG-20, as well as getting a sense for just how many bugs had been planted in the Buy More. Because where there was one GLG-20, there was always more. It was such a primitive, low-range device that you had to over-use the bugs in order to guarantee full coverage.

By the next morning, they had found twenty-seven GLG-20 bugs but no receiver. Chuck arrived at the warehouse, sent to bring Casey back to the stripped Buy More and an angry store manager.

"Out of everything, Big Mike was really only upset about his missing fish," Chuck said, looking around the warehouse. "Wow. You really recreated the whole Buy More here."

"A fish?" Sarah asked, looking at Casey.

"Big Mike's got a seven-foot marlin in his office," Chuck explained. "His pride and joy."

"We didn't find any marlin when we went in," Casey said. "You think-"

"That's where the receiver is," Sarah said. "Fulcrum must have gone in last night and taken the marlin before we got there."

"Um, guys? There might be another possibility."

When Sarah and Casey turned to look at Chuck, he gave them a tight grin. "Jeff and Lester have been acting very squirrelly today. Squirrelly even for them," he said, cutting off the objection that Casey looked like he was about to make.

"Then I've got two perverts to talk to," Casey said, rolling his neck before turning on his heel, probably heading towards his Crown Victoria.

"Casey seems happiest when he's getting to knock heads together," Chuck said, turning to look at Sarah with a small smile on his face. "I guess it's the simple things in life."

Sarah tried to smile back, but seeing Chuck standing in front of her, joking and happy and totally unaware of what might happen to him . . .

Like so often when it came to Chuck, she must not have hidden her feelings well enough, because his smile faded and his forehead wrinkled. "What's wrong?"

If she hadn't been so tired, if she hadn't spent all night thinking about this, she might have found a way to lie to Chuck. Tell him it was nothing and send him back to the Buy More with Casey. But instead, she looked up at him and said quietly, "Chuck, finding these bugs-it's not a good thing."

"Of course not, but-but you and Casey will find the receiver and everything will be okay. Right?"

"Maybe," she said. "But . . . but if we can't find it, or if Fulcrum has learned too much from the bugs . . ."

Chuck was a smart guy. She could see the worry and nerves appear in his eyes, the thinning of his lips and the tightness of his shoulders as he started feeling the tension. Because even though she had tried to shield him from the darker side of the spy life, he had seen enough to know that something was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, she laid it out for him. "If your safety has been compromised, it's possible that you'll need to go into protective custody for a while."

She couldn't put it bluntly. Couldn't say that he'd end up in a bunker, deep underground, staring at four white walls with little human contact, little distraction. But with the way Chuck's eyes widened, with the absolute fear that dawned on his face, she wondered if she should have found the courage to say just that.

"Bartowski! Shake a leg!"

Casey's voice, calling from the entrance to the warehouse, snapped them both out of the bubble they were in.

"It's going to be okay, Chuck," she said, resting a hand on his arm. "We'll find the receiver, and Casey and I will do everything we can to keep you here."

And maybe she should be surprised by how much she meant her words, but she really wasn't. Because Sarah knew that she would move heaven and earth to keep Chuck here in Burbank, out of the clutches of the CIA and NSA. Because it wasn't just his life at risk-it was Carmichael's, too.

One of these days, her mind was just completely going to split from trying to make sense of this all.

He stared at her for a long moment. His eyes were churning with emotion, more than she had ever seen before. It was like this was the whole, complete, unguarded Chuck, and he was petrified. Then he gave a shake of his head and stepped back. Without a word, he turned and walked towards Casey, his shoulders slumped and his head down.

Sarah watched him and knew that he had already given up. He didn't think he'd be saved. Seeing him look so defeated, so downtrodden . . . it made something inside her wake up. A determination that she didn't realize she had, a will to fight that she had never accessed before.

Chuck wasn't going into a bunker. Not as long as she was his handler.

XXX

Shivering, Sarah peered through the window of the freezer. Why did the freezer even have a window? Was it for situations like this, when someone got locked in? Or did the frozen yogurt like having a view?

The problem with the window was that it let her see that no one was coming. No one was here to release her, to let her out so she could do her job. Because Chuck was gone, taken by some cop that she doubted was actually a cop, and she was stuck in this goddamn ice box freezing her ass off.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she wished that Chuck had been able to shoot the lock off. It had been a big ask, she knew, but perhaps some innate Carmichael-ness inside him would have let Chuck be a crack shot. Or maybe that whole tranq gun thing that Carmichael had was the problem.

And slowly succumbing to hypothermia clearly made her think about things that were pointless at this time and place.

She had never been so happy to see Casey as she was when he stepped into the back room of the Orange Orange. "Casey!" she shouted, banging a little on the window.

Fortunately, Casey had no problems shooting open the lock. She stepped out of the freezer, feeling the rush of room-temperature air over her skin. "The pita girl is Fulcrum. She's got the receiver. And Chuck got taken by that LAPD detective."

"He's no cop," Casey said, looking at her. "You okay to get Chuck? I'll deal with the PITA girl."

It might be the temperature change, but Sarah was pretty sure Casey meant pita as pain-in-the-ass instead of Middle Eastern flatbread. And she was also sure that he just told her to disobey orders by keeping Chuck out of the CIA's control. She blinked up at him.

"What?" he said. "You think I want a fellow agent to rot in a bunker? Get going, Walker!"

"Yeah, yeah, right." She turned and went to the scanner, letting herself into Castle. She threw on some dark clothes, feeling grateful for long sleeves, and then stopped at the armoury, stocking up on knives and jamming her S&W in the back of her jeans. Then, without any further delay, she ran for her Porsche.

According to Chuck's GPS tracker, he was moving towards downtown Los Angeles. Sarah floored her Porsche, giving thanks that her snobby disdain for that Honda meant she had gotten her sports car sent to LA. Because in this car, she felt like she had a chance, even with the head start that the cop and Chuck had.

She was within a half-mile of the tracker when her phone rang. "Walker!" she barked out, weaving through the traffic with one hand on the wheel.

"That detective? Yeah, he's CIA. Code name is Longshore." Casey's voice was gruff.

"Fuck!" Sarah muttered, yanking the wheel. "I'm almost on top of them. Do you know where-"

Casey read off an address. "That's where the chopper is coming to pick them up in ten. How close are you?"

"Half-mile," Sarah said tightly. "I'm going to try and close the gap, now that I know where they're going."

"PITA girl got the drop on me, so watch yourself," Casey said, sounding annoyed and embarrassed.

Did Casey have some problem with hitting girls? First Carina, now pita girl. Not that Sarah had any time to deal with this problem now. "Gotcha. Call you later."

Hanging up her phone and tossing it into the passenger seat, Sarah pressed the gas pedal down and swerved through traffic. When she reached the address, she grabbed a parking spot, not even caring if she was illegally parked, and took off at a run for the rooftop helipad.

As she ran, all she could think of was saving Chuck. Keeping him away from the CIA, from Graham and Beckman who saw him as an asset. It was like they forgot who he really was: not just Agent Charles Carmichael, but as a person. He was a human being, an American citizen, and he was being jerked around according to political whims and the ends justifying the means.

He didn't deserve that. And she was going to make sure he got what he deserved.

Her feet pounded on the stairs to the pad, her heart leaping into her throat when she spotted them. "Longshore!" she called out, watching as they turned around while preparing herself to possibly commit treason.

XXX

Sarah pulled up in front of Chuck's apartment complex and let out a deep breath. She turned her head and looked at Chuck, who was sitting slumped in the passenger seat. They had been silent the whole drive from Castle to Echo Park, because . . . because there was so much to say and also nothing to say.

That moment on the roof, with Chuck looking at her and asking her to tell his family and friends how much he loved them, it changed things between them. It wasn't just about Chuck being her asset, being her guy. It was about protecting him. Saving him from anything that might threaten him.

Not just terrorists.

Standing there with Chuck holding her hands, she got caught up in the moment. She had nearly cried, for fuck's sake. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt tears, real honest-to-God tears. But seeing his courage and sacrifice in the face of something that scared him shitless, it made her feel weak and weepy.

"Are you okay, Chuck?" she asked quietly, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder.

He started and turned to face her. "I should ask you that," he said, swallowing. "You're the one who fell into a dumpster. Are you sure you're not hurt? I mean, you were already recovering . . ."

Somehow she found a smile for him. "That garbage broke my fall really well. And I kinda fell on top of the pita girl, too."

For once, she made him laugh. Sure, it was more of a broken little chuckle, not a big laugh with sparkling eyes, but . . . she made him laugh.

Chuck ran his fingers through his hair, the curls poofing up on him. "This has been a really long day."

"Putting it mildly, Chuck," she said, leaning her head back against her seat. "You should get some sleep."

"Oh, I'm gonna. Like, a lot of it. But first . . ." He turned as much as he could in his seat so he could face her. "Thank you, Sarah."

His voice was full of sincerity, and his eyes . . . the dim light made it hard for her to fully take them in, but she could see the gratitude and happiness shining in them. It made her cheeks feel hot.

"You-you don't have to thank me," she said, her voice sounding a bit choked.

"Yeah, I do," he said, his eyes locked on her face. "Because if it wasn't for you, I'd be on my way to a bunker, instead of sitting outside my home. I'd be all alone instead of being close to my friends and family. It's all thanks to you, Sarah, so . . . thank you."

She lowered her eyes, unable to keep looking at him. Unable to look at the goodness in his face and know that she wasn't worth such thanks. He was a good person, a nice guy, and he thought the same of everyone. But the thing was, she was a long way from nice. From good. And she couldn't even warn him to stay far, far away from her. Because there was her job, of course. But even more than that, because he wouldn't listen.

God, all she seemed to be doing now was thinking and feeling. And it sucked. She never used to be like this.

Clearing her throat, she gathered herself and glanced at him. "You're welcome, Chuck. I . . . It's nice to hear that. But-but it was the least I could do. Keeping you here in Burbank. Because with everything you've gone through, the last thing you should have to worry about is your country betraying you. And as long as I'm here, you won't have to worry about that."

For the rest of her life, Sarah would remember the smile Chuck gave her at this moment. The soft gentle quirk of his lips, the whiteness of his teeth, how his eyes got a warm glow that made her think of firelight shining through a glass of whisky . . . it was the perfect smile at the perfect moment.

And if he kept smiling at her like that, she'd listen to that little voice inside herself again and do something she shouldn't do.

Somehow, she managed to smile back at him and patted his shoulder. "It's late. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. You know if your leg or anything else bothers you, Ellie and Devon would be happy to take a look at it . . ."

"I know, Dad," she said, shooting him a small grin. Even though on the inside she didn't really feel like grinning.

Chuck laughed a little. "Okay, okay, I get the message." He paused and looked at her, then smiled. "Good night, Sarah."

"Night, Chuck," she said, hoping her voice sounded as breezy and natural as she hoped. He gave her a small wave as he climbed out of her car and then walked into the courtyard.

She watched the progress of his tracker on her phone, making sure he got into the apartment. Then she slowly started her car and pulled away from the curb, driving back to her hotel.

He thanked her. The sweet adorable idiot thanked her. And he had no idea that for a moment, there was a split second when she thought that maybe it'd be good if the mission ended early. So that she could get away from all these feelings, all these emotions that she couldn't understand or categorize or deny. So that she could go back to what was easy and simple.

But it had been so long since her life had been simple and easy, she wasn't sure she could go back to that.

It was clear that she needed to find a way to handle whatever she was feeling. Because she couldn't trust anyone else to protect Chuck and keep him in the life he wanted. It might only last for seven more months, but she wanted him to have the security of his family and friends. Wanted him to regain some confidence, to see how amazing he was.

She just wanted him to be happy. Even at her own expense.

End, Chapter 8