A/N: Continued from the previous chapter, the Bryce crisis is resolved.
I decided to play with the story style a bit in this chapter too.
Enjoy!
Don't worry; I hear there is a great selection of new handlers in this year's CIA Christmas catalog.
John Casey
Chuck and Sarah vs the Counterfeiter
While Chuck was agonizing over Sarah possibly leaving him, she was in her hotel room, still fast asleep.
09:29:58, 09:29:59, 09:30:00. The alarm clock started blaring, trying to get its owner to wake up. Sarah rolled on her back, taking the sleeping mask off. Her eyes opened into slits as she tried to adjust to the light. She was really annoyed. It was supposed to be her day off. No Wienerlicious, no Scooter, just the chance to sleep late and then spend time with Chuck. Her hand reached under the pillow to the knife she kept there. In one fluid move, she hurled it at the alarm clock, impaling it on the wall and, more importantly, silencing it for good. She then pulled the comforter over her head and went back to sleep.
Later, after Chuck had flashed on the counterfeit notes
"Where is Agent Walker?" Beckman asked.
"Agent Walker…" began Casey.
"Is currently suffering from a spastic colon, which acts up on her from time to time," Chuck lied. Casey just went along with it, covering for his partner.
"She has no history of that," said Graham suspiciously.
Chuck and Casey didn't know, but Sarah was right outside. She had hurried to get to the briefing when she noticed the text from Casey informing her of it.
"What the heck? I don't have a spastic colon," she muttered and opened the door.
"Perhaps we should reschedule until Agent Walker is feeling better," Beckman said. At that precise moment, Sarah entered.
"I'm fine, sorry I'm late, carry on," she said. The briefing was rather straightforward. They were to confirm if millionaire philanthropist Lon Kirk was indeed counterfeiting money. To get close to him they would have to attend a charity gala at a yacht club in the evening. Chuck and Sarah would pose as a couple. When their superiors signed off, Sarah turned to Chuck and punched him in the shoulder.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
"Really Chuck? Me, with a spastic colon? Is that the best excuse you could come up with?"
"It was, at the moment. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean? It's my job!"
"I thought that you would be with Bryce right now, on a spy's dream mission."
"Chuck," she said, her expression softening, "you are my dream assignment."
"Really?"
"Yes, silly."
"But… But it would make sense if you went away with Bryce. Logically, it would be protecting me too, helping Bryce take Fulcrum's focus away from me."
"Chuck, do you remember the day before your birthday?"
"Yes. It was a very happy day for all of us."
"It was. In the evening of that day I called Graham and asked for my job back, on the condition I would be given an assignment here in LA. I could never leave you, not then, not now, not ever." Sarah had a big smile on her face as she concluded her little speech. It was enough for Chuck. He took her in his arms and kissed her.
"Ugh, get a room you two," said Casey.
"By the way, Sarah, why didn't you answer my calls yesterday?"
"You called me?"
"Only about a dozen times."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Chuck. I was taking a bubble bath, listening to the music selection you made for me. I only saw Casey's text when I woke up today. It's my day off, so I wanted to sleep late. But someone decided to flash and ruin it all for us."
"Hey! If you want to blame someone, blame Big Mike! He sent me to supervise those idiots, Jeff and Lester on their install!"
"Okay, you are forgiven. We've still got time to kill until we have to go to the gala later. What do you suggest we do?"
"Whatever you want. I'm just glad you are here."
"Let's go to your place and I'll come up with something for us to do," she said.
Sarah's hotel room
Sarah had gone to her room to get ready for the gala. Chuck would pick her up from there. He made his way to her door and raised his hand to knock.
"It's open," she called from inside. He shook his head. Either she must have very sharp ears, or she has placed a motion sensor in the hallway outside. He made a mental note to ask her about it.
"Not a morning person I see," he commented, after seeing her alarm clock still impaled on the wall with her knife.
"Well, depends on the morning," she said, still applying her makeup in front of the bathroom mirror. "So, we're clear on everything? Eyes and ears on anything that can trigger a flash. Our cover is that we are a couple, you are Charles-"
"Carmichael, yeah, I got it. Should be pretty fun, right?"
"It's work; first we work, then we play," she said with a foxy grin and adjusted his tie.
"It's okay, I got it."
"Okay," she said, still smiling. "Ready to go to work?"
The gala
Chuck and Sarah entered the yacht club arm in arm and proceeded to the gambling area.
"If you expect me to hit the tables tonight I'm going to need a no-interest spy loan or something like that. You'd be shocked what a government supercomputer pays these days," he said. She resisted the urge to laugh.
"The CIA staked us. You have a hundred," she said instead. Inside, she appreciated the humor. She saw him take a martini from the tray of a passing waiter. "Since when do you drink martinis?" Sarah asked, intrigued.
"Oh, oh I don't, no. Carmichael loves them," he replied. Once again she had to suppress a laugh. She was about to kiss him when she saw Kirk.
"There he is, let's go," she said.
In the morning, after Chuck lost a hundred grand on one spin
Chuck had been taking out the garbage when he saw Casey polish his car. He expressed his admiration for the excellent condition of the 1985 Ford Crown Victoria and Casey proceeded to mention some of its features, including the add-ons. He would regret doing that later. Chuck also asked about Sarah's mission on Kirk's boat. The reply was not comforting. She would have to get close to Kirk, by any means necessary. He didn't like the last part.
After the team was benched
"That was a bang-up job, Walker. I'm gonna give you one last chance to come clean. Did you or did you not compromise yourself and the Intersect?"
"Did you ever… just want to have a normal life? Have a family, children?" Sarah asked instead. She knew she hadn't slipped up when she was with Kirk. But she was getting tired of the game. Chuck had flashed, but he shouldn't have been at the marina in the first place; he was there only because he was worried about her. While on the mark's boat she'd felt dirty, like she'd been cheating on Chuck. She now hated doing seductions while on missions.
"The choice we made, to protect something bigger than ourselves is the right choice," Casey admonished. "Hard as that is for you to remember sometimes."
"To answer your question, no, I didn't compromise myself or Chuck."
At the Buy More Chuck was enjoying some Chinese take out and thinking about what had gone wrong. He had flashed. Sure, they had misinterpreted flashes before, especially when they lacked information on the big picture, like the flashes on Mei Ling Cho and Mason Whitney. But this time the flash was specific. The printing plates were inside an aid crate. But were all the crates accounted for? Were they all on Kirk's boat when Casey and his team had raided it? Damn, they should have checked first. His phone beeped. Morgan had sent him a photo of him, Anna and her parents on a boat. And… there were crates! Crates like the one he had flashed on. He enhanced and printed the photo and went to tell Casey. He repeated that they had been benched, so he went to Sarah at the Wienerlicious. She believed him when she heard his concern about his friends. She knew how important they were to him.
I hate this assignment.
John Casey
Casey stared at the burning wreck of his prized Crown Vic, a look of shock and sorrow on his face. The look turned to rage every time he glanced at Chuck. He had to force himself to turn away, otherwise he'd be liable to wring the twerp's neck and then there'd be hell to pay. He wished he'd never told Chuck about the GPS tracking system he'd installed in the car.
At the Buy More holiday party later, Chuck and Sarah were having a great time. They danced, kissed under the mistletoe, and he gave her a new alarm clock to replace the one she'd skewered. Casey was watching them from a distance, inwardly cursing General Beckman, who said that Chuck would have to be terminated soon. The kid didn't deserve this fate.
The following morning
"Sarah, where are we going?" Chuck asked.
"It's a surprise, Chuck. You're gonna love it, trust me."
"Hey, that's the marina!"
"Yep. Kirk's yacht is to be taken to a federal impound yard and I volunteered to do it."
"You can steer a boat?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I can," she replied. "And you can help. After all, you installed the automated control system."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n Walker!"
When the boat was out of the marina, Sarah stripped off the sundress she'd been wearing, revealing her black gold-studded bikini.
"I'd bought this for us, but I hope you don't mind I had to wear it for the job," she said.
"Are you kidding? I love your spy bikini."
"Can you…" She didn't need to finish the question. Chuck had already grabbed the suntan lotion and he was rubbing it on her shoulders. "Thanks," she purred.
"I still feel bad about Casey though," he said. "He clearly loved his car. But I did give him a consolation present, so I think he won't kill me."
"What did you give him?" Sarah asked, curious.
"A little something I set aside before the cleaners came."
"The missile launcher?"
"It was not exactly a rocket launcher, but a Carl-Gustaf M3 84 mm recoilless rifle with a day/night scope."
"I guess he can appreciate it."
"Sarah, I'd expect you to be more sympathetic towards him right now."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, I mean, you would expect our support if instead of the Vic it had been your Porsche."
"Stop! Don't talk about my baby like that! Chuck, I love you, but I swear that if anything happens to my car because of you, I will hurt you."
"Does your car have a GPS tracking system?"
"No."
"Then it's safe."
"Good to know."
She stopped the boat outside the harbor, out of the way of maritime traffic and lowered the anchor.
"You know Chuck," she said, "the boat has to be delivered to the impound yard today, but it doesn't mean we have to do it right away."
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"I don't know," she said, innocently but suggestively batting her eyelashes at him, "does a helpless wench have anything to fear, alone in the high seas with Captain Carmichael, the notorious pirate?" Chuck needed no further encouragement. He hoisted her on his shoulder and carried her kicking and giggling to the master stateroom below, grabbing a bottle of rum on the way.
"In that case me bonnie lass," he said, "I fully intend to claim my share of the swag right now, arrr!"
