...wherein Sarah contemplates exit strategies, cover maintenance, the man Chuck should have been and the lengths to which he will go to earn her approval...

Canon Reference: Most of 'Tango' (ep 1.03)

Contents: Three chapters; the first one of medium length and the other two relatively short.

A/N: I initially thought Tango was a pretty thin episode but the approach I took made it as good a time as any to start talking about IIEP / seductions in preparation for their inclusion in later plot lines. Keeping my original warnings in mind and with the tone thus far, it would be disingenuous to completely ignore or even downplay the concept of sex as a weapon of espionage. Basically, nefarious fictional spy organizations are not selectively nefarious.

So Tango will be covered over three installments. This one is very introspective and relatively innocuous. The next is pretty ugly - but also contains key Sarah backstory elements - and is completely non-canon flashbacks. I will summarize key events at the end of the Tango arc (presumably end of Part XI) for those who choose to skip Part X.

Oh, one more thing on a much lighter note:

Sarah never did know that Chuck learned the wrong part of the tango...

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Disclaimers / Easter Eggs: You will run across what you may think is an Easter Egg referencing a song by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock but you'll be wrong - that was not the intention (but don't let that stop you from singing it to yourself and doing a little chair dance - I know I did...). No ownership of CHUCK, Tron, Avengers (obliquely - see end notes) or Pulp Fiction is asserted or implied. (The Pulp Fiction quote adds absolutely nothing to the story, it's just something I think to myself every time I order an 'espresso beverage' at Starbucks. Every. Time.)

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Part IX: What Might Have Been


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022: Five Dollar Coffee

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"That's a pretty fucking good milkshake. I don't know if it's worth five dollars but it's pretty fucking good."

- Vincent Vega, Pulp Fiction


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Starbucks, Buy More Plaza, Burbank, CA; Fri Oct 5, 2007 8:30 am

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After their quick briefing at the Buy More, the agent calling herself Sarah Walker had come in for a cup of coffee with a purpose in mind other than a caffeine fix. She had been here several times over the past two weeks whenever she could avoid the sludge Scooter called coffee at the Weinerlicious but this was only the second time she had used this particular card to pay.

The first time she used it was three days after she arrived. Just a simple cup of whatever so-called 'bold' brew they had. Two dollar coffee - code for a simple check-in while on assignment with no specific duration but expected to be a milk run. The primary purpose of the card was simply to establish a location. The amount of the purchase - no matter the product (though they had seemed to settle on coffee) - was the other half of the message.

Today was one of the few times she had used it for something less cheap - her preferred skinny vanilla latte and a croissant added up to slightly over the target number. Five dollar coffee - long-term assignment. Expectations of being in the same location for any significant period of time were rare. She usually spent no more than a month in any one place. Her mission here in Burbank had transitioned to indefinite in duration and she was just now getting around to updating this portion of their contact protocols.

She had driven across town to an out of the way Internet cafe to check the account yesterday as part of her habit of checking it along with her secret voicemail and other communication protocols every couple of days. She could check the transactions by phone but needed online access if she was simply curious about the location and didn't want to speak to their banker as she would in the event of an actual emergency. These types of places were getting harder to find and she thought they might need to update their protocol.

She and her former partner had managed to keep the banker's name out of a drug sting in exchange for his help with setting up the account with a no-questions-asked card. The account balance was far lower than those of his usual customers but if he didn't want to be indicted for money laundering he would extend them every courtesy.

Her partner had argued - in front of the blubbering man - that they needed the resources more than the EU needed one more dirty banker out of circulation. Bankers didn't usually put themselves in situations where they could be dealt with as decisively as drug lords and their gangs (as her partner preferred) but he also didn't seem to have been an active participant, just a negligent one. He was now far more careful with whom he did business.

They each routed a portion of their government pay via cash transactions of a few thousand dollars at a time whenever they were able. She also had several stashes of funds in various credit unions under various aliases in several coastal cities near D.C. but this particular account was intended to only be used to send such messages. She used another to automatically pay a few related items like the phone service she kept only for voicemail.

She briefly entertained the idea of asking Chuck's technical advice on a small device she could use to more conveniently access the account statement. Obviously without explaining why she needed something like that or highlighting that it would need to be something which the CIA knew nothing about.

She saw the recent two-dollar-ish coffee charges that belonged to her - the most recent in Burbank several days ago, another in Budapest before that, San Sebastián before that and Johannesburg before that. The lone charge during that time that was not hers was in Buenos Aires.

Great. She wouldn't be at all hard to find there.

Then again her friend and former partner did tend to stand out and she herself was assigned to a city in Los Angeles county and LA was the second most populous city in the US. Larger even than Buenos Aires. But 'Burbank' was a little more specific. She would be pretty easy to find if her friend just asked around this plaza and she hoped the situation in Argentina was similar. Luckily they had other means to refine their searches should they become necessary.

She wondered if coffee was as expensive there because the unfamiliar charge was a roughly five dollar charge also indicating a long term assignment. But then those same types of charges had been bouncing around Argentina for a few weeks. It must have been the same assignment with a shifting focus. It was unusual which was why she decided to check the location so she knew. Just in case. All she really cared about was that there were no excessively large charges. Larger than could be accounted for by the cost of coffee even in Scandinavian countries.

There were several triggers that could result in either of them jumping into action. If one of them couldn't simply call their direct line even to leave a hang up message, a large charge was an SOS. As was a failure to update a draft email in a shared email account that had never actually sent a message. The most recent updates had been pictures featuring various house cats in stupid situations with ridiculous captions. She was going to have to talk to her about that.

Her old partner could be a little unpredictable but not about this. They both updated their various statuses like clockwork. Both were too prideful to let the call go out unless absolutely necessary much less due to neglectful sloppiness. The CIA Agent had pawned off her responsibilities on other assignments several times before under the guise of 'pursuing a lead'. Twice to respond to a distress call and a few times for other reasons. The non-existent leads never panned out of course because the reality was that she was answering such a call for help and she was willing to take the risk because she knew she could expect the same courtesy.

She always worried about seeing that large charge or having to make one herself to call in reinforcements if her own agency was as cavalier about cutting her loose when a mission went bad. Everyone needed a safety net and this one was more reliable than most. And God help anyone who got in either of their paths.

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They referred to the account itself as their 'rainy day fund'. Her friend had laughed in that unsettling, maniacal way she sometimes did at a suggestion of calling it a retirement fund even though she had managed to fund it far more than the CIA agent had. She had pointed out that between them they had 'retired' plenty of people who no longer had any use for earthly things as common as money.

It was more a small rebellion than any sort of real plan. As closely watched as their personal accounts were, their transactions didn't raise any red flags. It wasn't uncommon or suspicious for agents to piss away most of their own money. What else were they going to do with the money they had little need of while living mostly expense free when constantly reminded of their own mortality? It would be equally foolish to think either of them would ever truly retire.

She couldn't really argue with that. Sure, either of them could take the money and run but to what purpose? Lie on a beach for a few weeks or months or hide in seclusion for a couple of years at most until a government grab team ultimately located and cornered her? There wasn't any real personal reason to leave the life that would justify becoming hunted as either a rogue agent or - given the unconventional nature of both their recruitment - so that either of the two agencies could reclaim their valuable resources and put them back to work.

She had to search for it given the apparent lack of options but she still found some satisfaction in her job. Maybe she was doing some good and maybe it was just exciting. Maybe not enough satisfaction to fully suppress such thoughts or make up for the uglier aspects but when she was done masquerading as Sarah Walker what else could she really be? She was good at this. How many people could say they were among the best in the world at their profession? And she held out hope that she could eventually steer her career to something more palatable.

Officially being assigned as handler to an extremely important intelligence asset wasn't a particularly promising turn in that direction. Especially for this particular asset.

There were numerous reasons this assignment was troubling but one specifically was entirely new. She had never before been on an assignment where she would have worried about abruptly leaving if she had an emergency signal from her former partner. Only now did she realize how many times - emergency or otherwise - she had briefly disappeared and how fortunate she had been to never suffer any extreme consequences.

She now had the additional worry of leaving Chuck with Casey if she has to answer such a message; possibly causing a panic move to secure Chuck if Graham or others thought she had gone rogue. Maybe based on recent experiences Casey would cover for her briefly. She would have to consider laying some groundwork about why she might vanish unexpectedly now that more than her own status was at risk and Bryce had damaged her credibility.

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Having established her status protocols she could once again look at the cup and pastry as simply a tasty treat and found a nice comfy chair in the corner to enjoy her latte before her shift started. An overly attentive barrista was hovering around while cleaning and had asked twice if there was anything she needed - clearly working up the nerve to ask something else. After subtly mentioning something about her boyfriend, polite excuses were exchanged and she was left to her coffee.

Boyfriend.

She had never acted as a handler for an asset on a long-term basis but had been trained for it. There were many aspects about that particular toolkit that made her uncomfortable under any circumstances.

Manipulating a man into doing what she wanted was something she would tolerate on a more typical mission but wasn't something she wanted any part of in a long-term scenario. Posing as a romantic partner was fine with a fellow agent. Most knew better than to press their luck and the others learned quickly.

On the other hand, some assets seemed to think an agent's company in the bedroom was part of the entertainment package. Most at least pressed their advantage in public situations. But Chuck was different. Even more different than she had first perceived.

The parts of the toolkit she - and almost every agent - found distasteful were more about two types of assets. The unwitting ones who assumed she was an ordinary woman who was interested in him and possibly requiring her to be 'convincing' to varying degrees for a short time. Or the non-cooperating ones who thought women were one of many things on the negotiating table.

Luckily even Graham was less likely to use any woman in such a blatantly disgusting way. There were some things he considered viable tactics to get what he wanted. He did have lesser agents for that and might consider using one of them to influence an extremely valuable asset - one like Chuck she briefly considered - but generally, once they were aware of the futility of their situations, he cared little for what one of his assets or informants wanted.

Which led her to another unsettling thought. Graham thought of agents as extensions of his will. As such, he didn't consider their feelings per se, but did consider which actions would lessen their utility. He would sacrifice them if necessary - physically or psychologically - but she had some degree of confidence that he would weigh their future usefulness to him against the necessity of such a thing.

He didn't have the same consideration for assets and informants. They were property. If subtle approaches did not produce results or they became too demanding he had no problem strong-arming what he needed from them rather than indulging their whims. That included threats, torture, confinement - the bunker she had convinced Graham, in terms he would understand, would reduce Chuck's utility - and even termination if the individual was deemed too great of an ongoing security risk.

She had been given such an assignment once. She had struggled with the idea of it but had actually caught the former asset in the process of selling government secrets. Gunfire had erupted, he had tried to escape...she had done what had to be done. She always did what had to be done. Knowing what he had planned to do she wondered if she would have felt worse about killing him after sneaking in while he slept or while he sat enjoying his coffee. She knew she would and wondered why.

Chuck had unknowingly put himself in the top drawer of the asset handling toolbox - cooperating asset. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to help people. He wanted rid of the Intersect, of course, but he had never asked for any of this and was truly making the best of it. He was special. She had convinced Graham that his utility would be reduced if they tried to coerce him in any way. There had been no mention of Ellie - and she knew it would be phrased as 'the sister' if it ever happened - but Sarah wanted to block that option before it was even considered.

Chuck's continued cooperation kept Graham from questioning it but if he ever unilaterally decided that Chuck's mere existence was too great of a security risk he wouldn't hesitate to end that existence.

Luckily, she knew she was still Graham's best. Still the extension of his will he would have chosen even if she had not been the most convenient option to counteract John Casey in what was certainly a metaphorical arm-wrestling contest with General Beckman over control of the Intersect. Or at least she hoped so. He wouldn't remove her unless she gave him a reason to do so. She had to never give him any reason to doubt that she would do what had to be done. Whatever needed to be done.

But what would she really do? Certainly not take the shot. But tip him off? Go to war with Casey while he ran? To where? Would Casey take the shot? She knew his reputation but she also knew her own and that hers didn't match the reality of this situation. Casey had some personal code of honor and despite his squint-hard-enough-and-it-looks-fraternal way of interacting with Chuck she didn't know how such a scenario would play out with Casey.

When it came to Chuck, she liked to think that she would make a stand. Sure he was cute and sweet but that wasn't it. Not entirely, anyway. She couldn't afford to make choices based on such childish thoughts. But he was special. He was different. He did the right thing. He deserved a protector who did the same. Otherwise she was just his jailer.

To the rest of the world she was his 'girlfriend'. Continuing the ruse from their first date was the expedient thing to do. It also kept her in a really nice suite with a story about the manager being a family friend since Chuck had told Ellie where she lived before that first date. It wasn't meant to be a long-term thing but Zarnow's betrayal left them with few options.

That left her where she had started - pondering the fact that part of the legend of Sarah Walker was that she had a 'boyfriend' - a cute, sweet, funny boyfriend - and considering a problem with securing that cover that she never thought she would encounter.

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It was something she had hoped to discuss with Chuck when she had pulled him into the media room. Something other than the photographs of dead smugglers that Casey's quick intervention required them to focus on first. Chuck's reaction to the photos - asking why the dead men were sleeping of all things - was just the adorable naïveté that was part of the problem. She couldn't help but smile at the memory of it, and the offhanded way he excused himself while simultaneously subtly chastising her and Casey for their bickering before flashing unexpectedly. Not on the photos of dead agents but on a photo in the newspaper under Jeff Barnes' arm.

The problem itself was what Chuck referred to as PDA. Public Displays of Affection, of course. Something she herself had utilized extensively as part of a cover or even an impromptu tactic to blend into a crowd or allay suspicion. But it was always completely devoid of any passion and never out of any overwhelming need to kiss someone beyond her ability to control. But Chuck didn't really know or need to know about all that. He just needed to realize that as far as anyone not associated with a government agency knew, not only did they spend most lunch breaks together and often have breakfast together, but she and Chuck had been on three official dates and that carried certain expectations.

First was their interrupted evening of dinner and dancing culminating with watching the sun rise over the Pacific. That was the sanitized version she had sold to Ellie and everyone but Casey believed to be true.

Second was their assessment with Dr. Zarnow. Chuck had implied it was somehow the only second date he had been on in years which just further convinced outsiders that the two of them were already engaged in his most serious relationship since college.

And finally the disastrous family dinner - the highlight of which was Chuck somehow pulling off a tablecloth magic trick that (with an assist from Casey) had resulted in the death of the dessert she had prepared.

Yet they had convinced everyone that their relationship had survived his bizarre behavior up to and including that stunt. In fact, while Chuck had watched her eat a light breakfast earlier in the week as he nursed a coffee he had confided in her that, when Ellie had demanded an explanation for his behavior that night, he had attributed it to nervousness.

He went on to say that he hadn't met anyone since his last girlfriend who made him feel this way. Who made him feel alive. That it wasn't often he met someone he liked so much who seemed to like him back. Only later had she realized that he hadn't explicitly indicated that all of those thoughts were things he had shared with Ellie.

The possible hidden truths had surprised her. It was Chuck being Chuck; tentative and bold at the same time. A testing of the waters knowing intuitively there were meant to be boundaries between them though they had only ever said out loud that their status was a cover. It felt like a question wrapped in an admission.

An I-like-you-do-you-like-me question. Like the notes the boys in every school in every city used to ask her to pass to the prettier girls with the more flattering clothes that fit properly.

One that she should have dismissed as just as juvenile yet felt just as nervous about answering as he had seemed to about asking-without-asking.

One she wasn't free to answer honestly and, as she considered all the reasons not to allow herself to become too comfortable with their cover as boyfriend and girlfriend, was frankly frightened to answer.

But it had also occurred to her over the course of the week that they were going to have to show physical affection to one another in order to be believable. Especially if the nature of their now-indefinitely-extended mission required her to interact with him believably in any kind of public setting while on a mission. At least he would see that as a perk, right?

She certainly didn't mind that it might be necessary for her to kiss a sweet, kind man that she thought was pretty cute. Rules being what they were she would take what she could get. She knew she wasn't that ugly duckling anymore and with the way she often caught him looking at her she didn't think he would object.

When she had entered the Buy More this morning she had been uncharacteristically excited, nervous and wary about her idea of springing the idea of a cover kiss on him. She hadn't wanted to make him overthink it and thought she might have to talk to him later about keeping it professional and that the cover didn't translate into reality but all the while hoped he saw it for what it really was: the only honest answer she could give him to his I-like-you-do-you-like-me question.

She had already said it plainly once over margaritas. Far too plainly. So much so that she had shocked herself. I like you, Chuck. But she could hide the truth of that utterance inside his doubt that it had been anything other than a spy being a spy - saying what she thought would lower his guard rather than the accidental admission it actually was - and put her armor firmly back in place.

It would cause all sorts of questions for her to just come out and say it again.

I like you but I can't.

We can't. But she could offer a more physical answer.

Certainly public and certainly a display but not entirely devoid of affection.

It was terribly unfair - both to him and to her - but certainly far more so to him. He wasn't trained to separate actions from feelings like she was. And she was almost certain that it wasn't that he didn't want to kiss her. It was more that he would have to kiss her like he meant it while not meaning it. He would have to prevent his actions from boring into his heart just as she steeled herself to prevent them from boring into hers. Any indication that she meant what she was portraying could make Graham reconsider her suitability leaving Chuck at the mercy of his next jailer or protector.

And it did open up the possibility of Graham changing tactics and sending one of his Valentine operatives rather than a full agent like her; opting for control - a trump card over Beckman - over protection. She was sure her personal distaste for such tactics in general was what turned her stomach and made her skin feel burning hot at the idea. Certainly not the doubts over whether Graham had anyone good enough to get someone as earnest as Chuck to fall for her.

Fall for IT. She mentally corrected herself. Those tactics. She sighed and drained the last of her latte.

Given the much larger concerns she felt a little bit guilty that she had actually been disappointed that, far from abusing the opportunity, his reluctant peck on the cheek had been more like a child kissing a not-well-liked distant relative.

She hadn't been able to resist reacting with a disappointed "That's it?!" before pulling him into the media room before Casey interupted. For a well reasoned explanation of why she needed his best effort - as close to something real as he could share with her - or a second surprise attempt disguised as practice she still wasn't sure.

Only later had it occurred to her that maybe Chuck understood all of this. That he already knew where he firmly stood. That maybe the 'P' and the 'D' weren't the problem but rather the 'A'.

The I-like-you portion of his question.

The I won't pretend I don't mean it part.

She had thought it was only a kiss.

But maybe she had been worried about the wrong person overthinking the physical opportunities their cover provided.

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023: Charles Carmichael

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Weinerlicious, Buy More Plaza, Burbank, CA; Sat Oct 6, 2007 11:15 am

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She had been thinking about it off and on for most of the past twenty-four hours and it was something they would have to discuss at some point. She would have to decide behind which wall to hide her true thoughts on the matter - coldly clinical or apologetic - but neither allowed her to tell him the true answer to his question.

I-like-you-do-you-like-me?

A question she only knew how to answer with actions. Actions she knew she could explain away as professional separation of feelings from actions and hide her ulterior motive behind an ulterior motive. Actions that he was reluctant to entertain. Likely because he was so incapable of separating his feelings from his actions.

And she wanted to kiss him for that alone.

She set the question of PDA aside because the other concern occupying her thoughts was the more pressing one: her worry about putting Chuck in harms way even though, as Casey had pointed out, it was 'just' an art auction. They had skipped this mornings intel briefing in order to review their options regarding La Ciudad at Casey's new apartment across the courtyard from Chuck's and she hadn't seen him yet today.

She crossed the parking lot a little earlier than planned as she dealt with the fact that she had been out-voted three to one - not that this extended mission was a democracy - regarding Chuck's readiness to be involved in a field assignment in any capacity. He was meant to be an intelligence resource and she hadn't properly considered that their proximity to the second largest city in the US could lead to actual operational needs.

She was trying to reconcile her own arguments in her mind. The conflicting opinions that he should not be put in protective custody but should be protected as much as possible while not in protective custody. She wanted to keep him safe. But the only way to minimize the danger from all threats was to allow him to be put in harm's way.

It was so fucked up.

Casey should already have informed him of Beckman and Graham's decision to include him in the mission and, as she entered the Buy More, she finally admitted to herself that no one but her really thought allowing Chuck to basically maintain his pre-Intersect lifestyle was a sustainable situation. She realized that she was kidding herself and, as much as she didn't like it, Chuck would have to show that he could operate in some capacity in the field when and if it became necessary. At least if he wanted to retain some semblance of freedom. She didn't expect him to do what she and Casey were capable of as trained agents but instead just hoped he could keep himself out of trouble.

She grinned at that thought because she had to admit, based on what they had seen from him so far, staying out of trouble was probably setting the bar a little too high.

She stopped just inside the door to watch him interact with his other team. The misfits of the Nerd Herd probably wouldn't get anything at all done if not for Chuck. They naturally followed him even though they didn't seem to respect anyone. God bless Anna for saying she could cover whatever it is they were working on to give them a few extra minutes over lunch.

Chuck already pretty much ran the store. Harry Tang was just a nuisance - and Sarah was in wonder of Chuck's patience in dealing with the pompous ass - but "Big" Mike Tucker's treatment of Chuck tested her patience. If this assistant manager thing was anything more than a formality she would never be able to take him seriously.

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A few minutes later they were sitting together at the patio tables of the Weinerlicious looking to all the world like an infatuated couple - a boyfriend visiting his girlfriend at work while she performs the mundane task of loading napkin dispensers.

He was clearly more than a little bit worried and she decided to set aside any discussions about how much they were and were not allowed to touch or kiss each other. It was a dangerous topic and she still saw no good way to address the finer points such as - when they deliberately crossed that line - whether either of them were allowed to enjoy it.

She continued to be amazed at how comfortable it is to just sit and chat with him. Admittedly, the topic is equally unconventional but a more comfortable one for her. Cover names. False identities. Deception and lies. "The idea with a cover is to keep it as simple as possible without revealing true personal detail." she said. "Any thoughts on a name?"

She had a few in mind for him because based on how frequently such things were overheard in discussions with Morgan or his other co-workers she had assumed he would want to use Han Solo or Jean-Luc Picard or some mash up of any number of equally geeky choices. But she had hated some of the names chosen for her in the past and figured she would give him a chance.

She was pleasantly surprised by his almost immediate answer. "Charles Carmichael?" He perked up a bit when she didn't object and he continued. "Simple, dignified..."

Keeping the name 'Charles' will reduce the likelihood of him getting tripped up. It's not bad and she starts to tell him so. "Easy to remember and not far off..."

But he cut her off with more about the non-existent Charles Carmichael "...Graduated with honors from Stanford, runs a hugely successful software company, semi-retired and is considering entering America's Cup."

Well that was...specific. She hadn't expected a back story and the vision of him as he had described made her smile. She could see it. Except maybe the sailing part. But if this was some pickup identity he had used in bars - besides being hugely disappointed in him - she couldn't allow it. "You've done this before?" she asked. His response was unusually cryptic.

"Let's just say, ah, Mr. Carmichael and I share a small kinship."

She was surprised that she suddenly couldn't read Chuck at all. But she needed to know whether this identity was viable so she probed further. "How's that?"

Chuck hesitated a moment and let out a small sigh before telling her the story. "When I first entered Stanford, it's kind of where I envisioned myself being by now...except for the sailing part. I don't really know where that came from, but he's where most of my class already is."

"So, what happened?" Sarah had been so preoccupied with learning about Chuck's current day-to-day activities and establishing their cover that she hadn't had an opportunity to revisit his background especially why he had dropped out of his University studies in his final semester. She had assumed that the same funk about his college girlfriend - the one that Morgan said Bryce 'stole' - was the driving reason.

"Well, my life took a little detour senior year when our old friend Bryce Larkin discovered stolen tests under my bed and was kind enough to alert administration."

Expelled. Not a drop out - expelled. That's what he was trying to say. Her first reaction was to just blindly take his side. It was unfair to test her perceptions of him but she had to know whether she had somehow misread him completely.

"Did you steal the tests?"

"I thought it was kind of implied that I'm a decent person." True. Very true. But not an answer.

"Well, we all make mistakes." She didn't know what transpired between Chuck and Bryce but Chuck was a decent person. It was hard to accept someone being so pure hearted. But if she were right about Chuck there must be more to the story because Bryce was no stranger to rule bending. She wondered why Bryce hadn't asked the same questions that she was asking and helped his friend determine where those tests had really come from.

"And I've made plenty; that just wasn't one of them. But, hey, then Bryce sent me a whole database of government secrets that are now locked in my brain, keeping me in a constant state of fear, danger, and anxiety, sooo...I'd say we're even."

Here she had been worried about how best to kiss him and forgotten that he had been thrust into this world. If it weren't so sad, it would be almost funny to her that 'fear, danger and anxiety' so accurately described her feelings about being near him - interacting, revealing too much, touching and, yes, potentially kissing him - while, for Chuck, they described concerns for his actual safety. On top of that, Bryce is clearly a hot button for Chuck and she doesn't want to continue to pick at that scab lest she open herself up to questions about her...partnership...with Chuck's former friend. So she steered the conversation back to tonight's mission.

"Don't worry about tonight. No reason to be nervous, I'm not gonna leave your side." she said as she reached out to take both his hands in hers in an attempt to calm him; all thoughts about what was and was not permitted forgotten for the moment. It was foolish to make such a promise but that she could offer that reassurance and have it mean something to another person wasswitch the risk. That his touch seems to have a reassuring affect on her as well was beside the point.

"Me? Nervous? C'mon, never." Chuck flashed that cheeky smile that would be cocky if not for the obvious symptoms of his anxiety for which he was trying to compensate.

"Your hand is a little moist." It was more than a little amusing to Sarah that this man who had no qualms about running headlong into dangerous situations when thrown into them unexpectedly suffered so much self doubt and panic when given too much time to think about those same situations.

"It does that when I'm freaking out." he semi-jokingly replied.

Sarah was pleased that it was something within her other than her training that spurred her to offer up something as simple as a touch and a smile to reassure him.

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As soon as she was able, Sarah reviewed the most current version of Chuck's dossier. She didn't know why she didn't know any of this before. Her initial intel on Chuck hadn't been as detailed as she would have liked and she had been too preoccupied with daily intel reports and the new realities of her situation to go back and fill in the details.

There was an attempt to cobble together a picture of his personal life but an absence of credit card transactions made it difficult. There were a few phone calls over the past five years to women not currently part of his social circle and the lack of many calls to the same numbers indicated that his comments about second dates had been true.

Why couldn't they see what she saw? She didn't know whether to feel sorrier for Chuck or the handful of women who clearly never knew what they could have had...Chuck, she decided. Definitely Chuck. To hell with those other women.

There wasn't much about Chuck's college girlfriend either and it seemed unnecessary to request additional information. The focus of the file was on Chuck himself and it was professionally irrelevant but personally disappointing that no photograph of his former girlfriend at Stanford was included. Specifically requesting such a thing might be taken the wrong way.

Jill Roberts had done well for herself academically and professionally, having recently completed her doctorate, already published in a few very niche academic publications and securing a research position at a prominent pharmaceutical research company. It seemed her personal life was similar to Chuck's with no known boyfriend much less husband or children. It seemed she threw herself into academia and her research and never looked back.

She had learned at dinner with Chuck's family that Bryce and Jill had been involved and now wondered whether it had been before or after Chuck's expulsion. Could the whole sordid mess have been over a girl?

Chuck's academic record was enlightening. They had told her he was bright but an underachiever. She looked again at the university transcript in front of her. It shouldn't have surprised her but somehow it did to see it all laid out neatly on a single sheet of paper.

He wasn't bright, he was brilliant. Test scores in the 99th percentile and nothing but A's in his engineering courses and mostly A's in his general studies courses with all but one exception no lower than a B. The lone, glaring exception was a D in a required general studies course in his sophomore year. She would have to find out more about the story behind that one some day. Otherwise, exceptional performance held true until his final semester.

He had needed just twelve credit hours to graduate. Four courses. But he was taking six courses in his final semester that added up to eighteen credit hours. When most students would be slacking off waiting for graduation day he had opted to take two extra graduate level electrical engineering courses to fill his time. From what she had observed of Chuck, he probably thought they were fun.

But there in the right hand column where his final A's should have been were the six identical notations she had to look up in the legend. A damning little "NP" repeated six times next to each course description.

Not Passed. They didn't tell the whole story. Not even close.

She had looked up the Honor Code policy and was surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as strict as she expected. In fact, it pretty much boiled down to the 'people make mistakes' approach she herself had voiced and allowed for progressive discipline rather than outright dismissal. Dismissal wasn't even mentioned. There must have been even more to that part of the story as well.

She felt a strange combination of anger at Bryce and compassion for Chuck. Anger at Bryce for derailing a promising young life without giving his friend a chance to explain. Without investigating what was really going on. Of course, whatever his reasons, Bryce would have thought that he was right. And once he thought he was right nothing could make him deviate from his course. But even with her natural suspicion of people Sarah had known Chuck less than a month and found the allegations unbelievable.

As his best friend (other than Morgan she supposed) Bryce should have tried harder and she considered his lack of faith in Chuck to be yet another act to add to his list of betrayals. She wasn't sure when Bryce had been recruited but maybe this was the first evidence of Bryce separating himself from his former life and training himself to distrust everyone. She hoped that being exposed to this life never made Chuck lose his trusting nature and enduring faith in people. Somehow both had seemed to survive Bryce's betrayals. The earlier ones and his most recent one.

But the stronger reaction was compassion. And regret that Chuck Bartowski never got a chance to become the man he should be. Bryce had crushed his academic career and both he and Jill had crushed his heart. She had wondered when she was first briefed on Chuck why he hadn't recovered from such old hurts but now supposed it was all such a sweet, kind-hearted young man could take.

The only tangible evidence of why Chuck never became Charles Carmichael was six little NP's on an official looking piece of paper.

A paper with no additional codes or notations to explain how two people could betray him so completely and someone who called him a friend could become so jaded so fast that he wouldn't give Chuck an opportunity to preserve a promising future.

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024: It Takes Two

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Weinerlicious, Buy More Plaza, Burbank, CA; Sun Oct 7, 2007 8:45 am

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Sarah Walker was angry about a great many things.

She and anger were no strangers to one another but, actually, she found that a lot of unfamiliar emotions were currently masquerading as anger.

She often got angry with Casey for the way he relentlessly teased Chuck. Even if she suspected a thread of good-natured hazing in the NSA agent and Marine. She recalled Casey's proposal that they adopt a carrot and stick approach to try to keep Chuck from running headlong into dangerous situations. She hadn't considered it a serious offer at the time but if it had been Casey had definitely embraced the harsher of the two. She suspected that was because her approach was even softer than he had expected.

Although she wasn't trying to seduce Chuck per se she did enjoy the occasional opportunity to show him some genuine affection and had thought such an opportunity might arise while attending the art auction last night. A few mostly chaste kisses and a comforting touch here or there were all textbook examples of selling a cover and working a dance floor offered many less innocent possibilities.

If she were trying to seduce him she could also say they were textbook examples of developing familiarity with one another or even forging a bond. Maybe it was an inherent awareness of those objectives - what such actions meant psychologically - that explained the thrill she felt on the rare occasions where Chuck had innocently initiated a friendly touch. Maybe a real kiss wasn't hopeless despite his supposedly chronic aversion to PDA. Another thing Casey enjoyed teasing him about.

Maybe it was just a byproduct of being the carrot - of projecting compassion - that she became so easily irritated when Casey seemed to revel in his role as the stick.

But Casey tricking Chuck into thinking he needed to know how to tango for this mission? Well, maybe that was actually pretty fucking funny.

It had been hilarious in the car when Casey couldn't hold his poker face any longer and Chuck let his embarrassment at falling for what he called 'spy humor' show.

The problem was that Casey's clever little joke had put the idea in her head. Then as they stepped out of the car upon reaching the Wilshire Grand, Chuck had quietly confided that he had, in fact, learned to tango for the mission. He had simply said he "didn't want to embarrass her".

Just like having to remind Chuck to stop saying he was a spy out loud was much like the man himself - occasionally frustrating but irresistibly endearing even at those times - she felt an overwhelming burst of affection for Chuck upon learning that he had made that effort. Regardless of the true reasons for his aversion to PDA, she knew it wasn't that he had some burning desire to show off. She suspected that it was far more likely to ensure that he wouldn't have to watch her dance such a dance with someone else in order to survey the room.

And that thought did raise some genuine anger at both herself and the MI6 Agents at the auction. It always rankled when foreign agents - even those from closely allied nations - interfered with her ops much less on American soil. Considering that the nature of this assignment could put her in constant violation of multiple sections of the Executive Order governing US Intelligence Activities, it was her first assignment where such a degree of interference was even possible.

General Beckman and Director Graham had both given her and Casey, separately and together, their assurances that both agents had special Presidential exemption for 'actions taken in protecting the intelligence asset known as The Intersect'. They were supposed to be protecting him while he provided insights into their intel that no one else could. But even though LA was a big city they hadn't expected trouble to come to their doorstep.

Actually acting on the intelligence Chuck provided domestically was a grey area.

When she looked back on the events of the evening, Sarah realized how Chuck may have felt after she left him to cozy up to the man they initially believed to be La Ciudad. Her ability to control most any man didn't come as naturally as most thought. It had been the most difficult and personally demanding skill she had mastered. Despite a childhood spent training to be a con artist and the good looks the CIA had revealed she had never really dated and wasn't terribly comfortable interacting with the opposite sex under any circumstances. Despite the outer shell the CIA had created for Sarah Walker in all her guises, the confidencegage exuded was just as manufactured.

Even flirting with someone she suspected to be an enemy still made her a little queasy - she had just learned to hide it well. Chuck, however, had been forced to watch as she attempted to charm the man who turned out to be a foreign agent on high alert.

She didn't know if her failure had anything to do with the fact that Chuck was watching or if it was her preferred explanation that she had failed because she simply didn't know enough about her target: the MI6 Agent whose mere presence made her break her promise - a promise she never should have made - to stay by Chuck's side as she had indicated she would.

She was angry at herself for making that promise and angry at herself for breaking it. She knew better than to make promises, or at least knew better than to make promises that she had something resembling any intention of keeping. She had made all sorts of promises to marks or any number of other people while undercover but that was when she was some other person. Some role she was playing.

She herself had no intention of being around for the next scene where she fulfilled those promises. If she had to, she renegotiated with some lesser degree of physical affection. She had learned to separate herself from such things and it meant nothing to her, it was just an act - no worse than a movie scene - performed because she had not yet achieved her objective and needed more time. And such things allayed suspicion enough to keep her safe for a few hours more and bought that time with some other promise that she had no intention of keeping.

It was a chain of lies that always ended in a broken promise. Any promises that happened to be partly fulfilled along the way were just part of the destined-to-be-broken chain.

A promise from Sarah to Chuck felt different. She didn't want to see him crestfallen at the end of such a chain. Didn't want him to see the truth of her lies. Didn't want him to come to regard her as completely untrustworthy. As someone who made meaningless promises. As someone for whom a kiss or a touch meant nothing even if she had to say so to protect the cover, protect him from anyone seeing through the cover and protect herself from becoming lost in the version of Sarah Walker who wanted what she wanted.

There was so much she couldn't say just because, if he ever got wind of it, Graham would interpret such things as being unsuited to the job. Part of watching over a human intelligence asset like Chuck was the exit strategy. And one exit strategy required a willingness to ensure that asset was eliminated rather than allow an enemy to take him and all the secrets he held.

If she were to give away too much - if she were deemed unwilling to take such a shot - they would replace her with someone who would. And she told herself maybe she would...if a situation arose where Chuck was obviously facing excruciating torture before dying anyway...

But she found she couldn't even hold such a thought in her head. And she was angry because if she couldn't sell it to herself, she'd never be able to convince Graham.

She was angry at Casey for telling her later about Chuck drinking himself silly - mocking his 'shaken AND stirred' martini orders (but deliberately failing to mention that he had instead fed him ginger ale with a maraschino cherry) - after she approached the agent Chuck had originally identified as their target.

Yes, she had promised to stay by Chuck's side and had ended up leaving him at the mercy of La Ciudad but it was the way Casey described it as 'his prom date trading up for a better looking guy' that made her angry. She knew how Chuck looked at her and despite her stated intentions of not using his emotions against him she often felt she was doing exactly that.

She couldn't figure Casey out. It was as though he was torn between trying to shame her into maintaining a professional detachment - something she was determined to do anyway - and pushing the two of them together. Almost daring her to make some sort of a move on Chuck or to encourage him to make a move on her.

She couldn't tell if he was testing her in some way, trying to get her to say or do something that could be used against her, thought it was a crutch that all female agents relied on or simply playing Cupid for his own amusement. It was maddening. She would confront him on it but that would only be interpreted as evidence supporting whatever theory he was testing. And maybe her anger at Casey had more to do with the fact that she didn't understand her own motivations any better than she understood his.

But she was surprised that most of her anger was focused on the fact that Malena...La Ciudad...whatever you wanted to call the Argentinian bitch of an arms dealer...had stolen her tango with Chuck from her.

Sure, Casey's suggestion to learn the tango was made in jest but since Chuck had made the effort to learn it she had assumed he had done so in hopes of dancing it with her. She had hoped they would find an excuse to dance later as the party went on. Instead she and Casey had ended up in a Mexican standoff with MI6 while Chuck danced with the gorgeous woman who turned out to be La Ciudad.

None of the agents from either nation had witnessed it but the room was still buzzing about the tango the two had danced when they later passed through trying to find Chuck. Apparently, he had put quite a lot of effort into preparing for tonight.

For her.

But he apparently didn't have any problem with an intimate dance with another beautiful woman before realizing she was their target. Something she lumped in with PDA.

She had been too distracted by the dangerous situation they had left Chuck in to think about it much last night. But now, with the mindless habitual routine of the pre-opening checklist of the Weinerlicious pressing down on her, she let her mind wander to what that dance might have been like.

Since she had met him, she had speculated on how it would feel to dance with Chuck. How their bodies would fit together. But her mind was only able to picture Charles Carmichael - PDA aversion erased by multiple shaken AND stirred martinis - dancing seductively with the statuesque beauty seen escaping in the security footage.

Had they danced a more modern tango, close together at the hips, grinding into each other? Or a more traditional Argentinian tango, close together at the chest?

As part of his flash, Chuck had identified Malena as Argentinian so she settled on that image. The bitch pressing and rubbing her chest into his at every opportunity and smiling up at him as she did so the way she should have been...

Sarah threw the towel in her hand down on the counter. She removed her apron and it followed the towel. She quickly put together a bag of their nearly edible breakfast offerings and coffee she had brewed herself that was far better than the swill Scooter made. She risked leaving the deep fryer on, locked the door behind her and began walking toward the Buy More knowing Chuck had been working all night and was likely in need of food.

They had gotten so wrapped up in post-mission clean up, debriefings and escorting the MI6 agents to their embassy that Sarah hadn't had an opportunity to speak with Chuck. She knew he had come back to the Buy More, dejected by any number of failures last night, and worked on some repairs all night. She and Casey had checked on him but not disturbed him.

She was determined to tell him how well he had done. Bring him the least unappetizing breakfast offering from the Weinerlicious and tell him how much she appreciated the fact that he learned that dance for her. Maybe it would be enough for him to offer to show her what he had learned if the opportunity ever arose again. Maybe a cover date involving dancing could even be arranged.

Sarah was partly lost in envisioning those scenarios playing out when she passed a strikingly beautiful delivery girl wearing a black ball cap and carrying a long white box - a delivery girl with a telltale scar on her neck exactly as Chuck had described it.

Sarah ducked behind a delivery van and quickly called to warn Casey to make sure he kept Chuck safe. Then she turned her attention back to see the delivery girl climbing the service ladder to the roof of the Weinerlicious and the contents of the package became clear to her.

She suddenly had a much more productive and fulfilling way to manage her anger than trying to sort out what was and was not real about the relationship between Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski.

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END OF LINE


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A/N: The oblique reference to The Avengers comes from a reviewer's comment about the Sarah of this story reminding them of Natasha Romanov. I was watching The Avengers recently (yes, again) and the "Love is for children" line stood out to me in the context of Sarah contemplating what she would do if certain orders were issued at this early stage. Sarah shares many traits with The Black Widow - apparently denial is one of them. (I mean c'mon, Clintasha FTW!)

Regarding the perils of excessive research: There is a single frame during a flash in 'Alma Mater' that portrays Chuck as a mediocre student. The transcript they present is more typical of a mechanical engineering curriculum than electrical and he would likely have lost any scholarship he might have had after his sophomore year. I feel comfortable disregarding what appears to be something that a PA threw together for a single frame of canon and taking some liberties with Chuck's academic record.

'Tango' should have been easy to cover but I found myself exploring many tangents. Sarah is now acutely aware of the indefinite nature of this assignment. She is truly a 'handler' now. And - while I don't agree with certain representations of the handler/asset dynamic - in this Sarah-verse there are expectations of a detached and unquestioning execution of orders.

Being a cover girlfriend could take a skeevy turn with a less stand-up guy. I know people love a good 'secret relationship' story but I have my reasons for not going that route. Therefore, the role of PDA in their cover relationship actually became a significant point. Sarah may not have encountered a good enough reason to do 'those' assignments but she still isn't above using those skills to manipulate most men.

So this seems like as good a place as any to discuss what those skills are really for and what might happen when duty and desire conflict. Or start to look uncomfortably similar. When a kiss isn't just a kiss. That means the dreaded IIEP and that means a return to her training. Next installment takes a break from canon events and will be the first half of a flashback arc that gets into some of those uncomfortable elements I mentioned in the preamble but have mostly dodged thus far. Ye be warned.