I still don't own Chuck. I'm not sure who does at this point.

I would still appreciate your comments. The worst thing for an author is silence. You can't tell if you're connecting with your readers, if they're getting where you think the story is going or not. And those comments don't have to be praise. Of course, I'd be lying if I tried to say that I don't enjoy the praise. But I actually learn more from the critical comments. Just as long as you're respectful and allow me to respond, you can say anything.

The Singer and the Mom

x-x-x-x-x

"Damn!" Decker screamed. "That hurt. Come on, Agent Walker. Do you really think that a tazer is going to get me to talk?"

"Not really," Sarah said with a grin. They had him in the classic torture position, mostly naked, strung up by his arms, in an ice cold room. "This is just for fun," she continued. "Consider it a warm up for the main event. I enjoy watching the way your fingers twitch when the electricity is flowing." She moved the gun closer. "By the way," she said. "It would be smart to address me as ma'am. Calling me Agent Walker is a rather hot button for me. It just earned you another extra long dose of voltage."

"Sonofabitch!" Decker yelled as soon as he regained control after the current stopped flowing through his helpless body. "I'll see you in prison, you bitch."

"Maybe," Sarah agreed. "It's entirely possible. But I seriously doubt it. From where I'm standing we have three options to avoid that. I'd suggest that you listen very carefully because it's the only time I'm going to offer them."

"Option A," Sarah said. "We have nothing to lose. So after you inevitably tell us what we want to know, we kill you, dispose of the body in some creative way, and nobody ever knows what happened. They'll start an investigation. They'll look for a while. But agents disappear all the time. Without a body, they'll eventually conclude that you just scored a big illegal payday somehow and dropped off the grid. You and I both know that it happens about once a week. Even if they did have reason to suspect us, there would be no way to prove anything."

"Option B," Sarah continued. "Is pretty much the same. Except you hold out for a while and I get to make you beg me to allow you to die. I'm really hoping that this is the option you pick. Not to belabor the point, but I don't care for you very much. You caused my husband some serious pain. Threatening my marriage is a particularly offensive capital offense. So seeing you broken and begging to die would be a definite bit-o-fun for me. I really haven't done this in a while. I fear that I might be a little rusty. Being with Chuck has made me a better person. But make no mistake. I'll do anything… emphasis on anything, to protect him. So I'm a little torn on my next move. The ammonia injection is painful enough… burning to death from the inside. Once it starts kicking in, you'll tell me anything I want to know to get me to kill you quickly and stop the pain. We both know that's true. But I like it more when I can take an active part. So I'm thinking we start with clipping off your testicles one at a time. Let's face it. It might hurt like hell, but I don't think you'll miss them all that much. I seriously doubt that a 'man' like you could get a woman into a position where testicles could come into play anyway. If you aren't broken after that? Who knows what I'll think of next?"

Sarah glared at him as she allowed her words to sink in for a moment. "Option C," she finally continued. "Honestly my least favorite. You tell us why you're working for Daniel Shaw, what he's really after, and help us end him. You actually get to live… which I'm sure you can imagine, makes it my least favorite. But it is probably the best one for you. You can thank my husband for putting it on the table. He's a much nicer person than I am. Naturally for this offer to be valid, you'd have to give us some information that we could verify. He's nice… but he's not stupid."

Sarah unleashed a spinning back kick that landed directly in the middle of Decker's gut. The force of the blow caused him to leave his feet and sway like a pendulum suspended by his arms for a moment. Sarah felt compelled to state the plainly obvious. "I really don't like you," she said.

"I'll give you an hour to choose."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck was waiting for her in the observation room. "Nice piece of 'bad cop' playing," he said with a grin. "I'm thinking that he truly believes that you don't like him."

Sarah wasn't quite ready to laugh about this. "I don't like him," she said. "He's right about that."

Chuck's grin grew even broader. "Nice house," he said. "It looks like something you would pick out. Care to tell me why your safe house has a soundproof interrogation room? I assume this isn't the first time it's been used."

Sarah looked at the floor for a long moment. But to her credit, she finally forced herself to look him in the eye. "It's not the first time," she admitted. "Not close. I was once known as The Enforcer. Look, some of those stories are going to be painful for me to tell you. But it's what a wife owes her husband. I'll hide nothing from you. I promise. But could we maybe wait until we get home and do it when we have more time?"

Chuck opened his arms in clear invitation… one the Sarah eagerly accepted. "It's not going to be painful," he said. "You'll see. I promise. You'd better get moving. The band is waiting for you to rehearse. Who knows what will happen if you leave Lester in charge? We may turn into a heavy metal band."

"Chuck," Sarah said softly. "Please be careful. I know that you want to play good cop. I'm not trying to lecture you. But this guy is dangerous."

"Casey is here," Chuck teased. "He's as anxious to shoot this guy in the head as you are. Besides, explain something to me. If you were ever to try and lecture me, what would that look like exactly?"

Sarah still wasn't ready to make this a joke. "I was a different person back then," she said sadly. "You wouldn't have liked me. You've changed me."

Chuck just squeezed her tight. "You really need to stop thinking like that," he said firmly. "Young Sarah Walker was a bulldog. She dedicated her life to being the very best, to serve something larger than herself. Why wouldn't I like her? Sarah Bartowski is still that bulldog. She is still driven to be the very best, to serve something larger than herself. It's just that now that something larger is being a wife and mother. That's every bit as noble. You're not a different person at all, especially one I wouldn't like. Get that thought out of your head. You were amazing then. You're amazing now."

That finally got something of a smile. "Sweet talker," Sarah said. "I know you. You're angling to see the bedroom. Too bad we don't have time for an impregnation attempt."

"I assume that will have been the first time the bedroom's been used," Chuck teased.

That finally got them laughing. Sarah didn't answer. She just pressed her lips to his firmly.

"Are you two about done?" Casey growled.

"We're supposed to be torturing Decker, not me."

x-x-x-x-x

Thankfully Sarah's safe house wasn't very far from the hotel. So she walked into the conference room that had been set up as a makeshift studio just a couple of minutes late. The band was already there warming up. Chuck had always encouraged them to spend a few minutes improvising at the beginning of their sessions. And truthfully, they were getting quite good.

The wives usually didn't attend their practice sessions. But with them being on the road, there probably wasn't anything better for them to do. And Sarah had always made it a point to be very friendly with them. So she walked up to where they were standing with a friendly smile. "Where's Lester?" she asked.

It was Marcy who answered. She was the vocal one of the gaggle. And she was nice enough. Sarah had caught her checking out Chuck's ass more than once. But if it never went beyond that she could probably bite her tongue. And Sarah had to admit, it was a very nice ass. "That's what we were just talking about," Marcy said. "One of us is going to have to go up there and get him. Frankly none of us is looking forward to it."

That surprised Sarah… and it showed. "Why?" she asked.

Marcy was clearly hesitant, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "Don't get me wrong," she finally said. "I don't want to offend you. We're so grateful for this opportunity. It was such a struggle trying to make a living in this business. And the band is really clicking. We're suddenly being more successful than our wildest hopes. And that's totally because of you. Everybody gets that. So if you need us to keep him entertained, well, I guess that's the price we're willing to pay."

Suddenly Sarah was seeing red as what Marcy was saying sunk in. "Don't worry about offending me," she said. "Tell me what's going on in plain English. Is Lester hitting on you?"

Sarah didn't need to hear the answer. It was written all over her face. "Sonofabitch," she muttered. "Girls, you don't have to put up with any foolishness from Lester. Trust me on something."

"I'm going to take care of this."

x-x-x-x-x

"You've really pissed her off."

Chuck was making no effort to keep the smirk from showing as he faced Decker. "Frankly it's not all that hard. I've done it myself a few times. She's been known to be a bit fiery. But I have to admit, you've raised her to a new level that I've never seen in a few years. I'd congratulate you. But that seems a bit odd. She really, really wants to deal with you herself. I had a hard time talking her out of it. I'm a little on the squeamish side of these things. Although, I must admit. If I was ever going to make an exception about watching someone being tortured to death, you seem to be the logical candidate. If I was you, I'd tell me something that I can use. Otherwise…"

Decker was not impressed. "Do you really think that I don't know about good cop, bad cop?" he asked sarcastically.

There was no waiver in Chuck's grin. "Of course," he said. "You know all about the tactic. Nobody denies that. Hell, you've probably played both roles yourself. You're right. I'm in here as the good cop to offer you a choice. But the question you should be asking yourself is… how credible is the bad cop? Are you willing to risk what she is going to do… and for what? To protect Daniel Shaw? I'd rather settle this with a minimum of bloodshed. That's my style. If you cooperate, Sarah will listen to me. But make no mistake. Daniel Shaw is not going to be allowed to threaten my family. If that means you die in some grotesquely painful way, well that's your choice. I wouldn't be able to stop her. And quite frankly, I wouldn't try. Your thinking anything else will be a short sighted and fatal miscalculation. So I'll try this one last time."

"Tell me something."

x-x-x-x-x

If Lester was surprised that it was Sarah who was pounding on his door, he didn't show it. He didn't invite her in, he just moved out of the way.

Sarah wasn't having a very good day in general. Chuck was off dealing with Decker on his own. That alone had her on edge. Dealing with this ridiculous drama with a prima donna Lester wasn't what she needed. Her initial instinct was to simply kick his ass around the room until he was pleading for mercy. But she also knew that if she started that in her current mood it might just be fun enough to quickly get out of hand. If that happened, there likely wouldn't be enough of him left to autopsy. So she forced a calming breath as she entered the suite, the same one that she had just been in a few hours ago under very different circumstances.

Lester was making no effort to hide the fact that he was snorting a line of cocaine from the glass coffee table in front of the couch he had guided her to. In fact… "Want a hit?" he asked as he wiped his nose. "It's very good stuff. It cost me a mint."

This wasn't the time or place for a lecture on the dangers of recreational drug use. Besides, Lester was an adult. And he probably wasn't the only one. So Sarah just shook her head. "No thank you," she said.

That got Lester grinning. "Come on," he said. "Seriously. You can't honestly be this uptight. You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I see you bouncing around the stage wearing next to nothing. Your nickname is 'the sexist thing on two legs.' Are you really telling me that you've never tried a line of coke? Maybe you should loosen up and live a little."

Sarah stared at Lester for a long time trying to decide how honest to be. In fact, she had tried cocaine. It was a mandatory part of CIA Training preparing you to be in the field. It was apparently the recreational drug of choice for slime ball bad guys and a favorite tactic to get women to 'loosen up', for much the same, but perhaps less sinister, reason Lester was currently going for. The experience at the Academy frankly scared Sarah to death. She instantly realized that she loved, loved, loved the feeling. It wasn't hard to figure out the attraction and why people became so dependant on it that everything else in their lives took second place. It took away every care in the world. Sarah recognized right away that this was a potential trap for her. She would be very vulnerable to being exploited while under the influence and consequently stayed away from it like the plague. "I've tried it," she finally said. "I don't like it." After all, that could be spun as mostly the truth.

Clearly Lester was in that 'not a care in the world' phase. Because he slid closer to her than would be appropriate. "Tell me," he said as he leaned in even closer. "How is our affair going to work?"

Sarah's protest that they had ruled out a pretend romance between them died on her lips. She looked down and saw his hand resting on her left breast. Normally, anybody not named Chuck so overtly groping her chest might have spawned a three state killing spree. But for all of the real drama of the day, for some reason this seemed more ridiculous than anything. Fortunately she was wearing a bra. So she fought back the snicker at the total lameness of the move… and answered his question with one of her own. "How do you think it's going to work?" she asked.

Clearly Lester wasn't expecting that response. "I don't know," he sheepishly admitted. "Maybe we can work on it."

For some ridiculous reason, that also struck Sarah as funny. "Let's work on it," she agreed. "The way I see it, it can go one of two ways. The first is fairly safe. The second is pretty dangerous. Let's start with the safe one."

Lester maybe wasn't sure where this was going. But wherever it was, he was really liking it. So he just kept his hand where it was and nodded.

"Okay," Sarah said. "Safe. You take your hand off my chest right away, sincerely apologize, make damn sure that nothing of the sort ever, ever happens again, and I might be able to pretend that it was simply a misunderstanding between friends. That leads us to the dangerous way. You keep your hand where it is for one more second, continue to cop your pathetic feel, and watch helplessly while I break your arm in three places. Then I tell Chuck what his 'friend' just tried behind his back and I watch while he repeatedly kicks your ass around the room… and if I know Chuck, starts immediately looking for a new lead vocalist."

Lester maybe was wired. He perhaps didn't currently have all of his wits about him. But he was certainly lucid enough to get Sarah's meaning. He removed his hand from her chest like it was on fire. "I thought that's what you wanted," he said. "I understand that you were up here earlier looking for me."

Naturally any suggestion that Sarah would ever want to cheat on Chuck had her quickly bristling. She started to explain what happened here with her and Chuck earlier… then thought better of it. It would have been hard to explain in a way that could possibly help this situation. And after taking a deep breath or two, she started to calm down a little. This wasn't his fault, at least not totally. The pretend romance idea had always been stupid. It had sent Lester some mixed signals. Sarah made a mental note to make that point to Chuck very clearly tonight with zero ambiguity as to her position on the subject. But how to get through to Lester? Scaring him with the grotesquely painful removal of a testicle would simply put a strain on the band. Then it hit her. She wanted to be a mom. Maybe it was time to start acting like it. "Come on, Lester," she said softly. "Chuck's your friend. Do you really think I would ever consider actually cheating on him? For a publicity stunt? Really?"

Lester just stared at her silently.

"I get that being famous is new for you," Sarah continued. "It's new for all of us. The wild parties, the women throwing themselves at you, the having money to buy pretty much anything you want, I get that those things are intoxicating. It's a classic kid in a candy store. I wouldn't expect you to not develop a tummy ache or two along the way."

Sarah paused for a moment to gauge his reaction. When she was satisfied that he was paying attention, she continued. "But, sweetie, you just have to handle it better. For one thing, at this pace, you'll be a dead old man by the time you're forty. If you use recreational drugs or not is your choice. It's really none of my business. I get that. But you have to respect the band enough to never do it when we're supposed to be working. And more important, the women that are forced to be around you shouldn't have to worry that you are constantly coming on to them. So understand something. You have more than your fair share of women to have sex with. There are women that are completely off limits to you. I am at the top of that list. Ellie is second. The wives and family of anybody associated with the band are also on the list. Understood?"

Lester's nod was more fear than acceptance. But that was fine. Sarah sorta liked it when people were afraid of her. "I'm going to help you with this," she said.

Lester finally found his voice. "You're going to help me?" he asked.

"Yup," Sarah said. "If I want to be a mom, maybe I'll practice on you. Until further notice, you're grounded."

Lester did a double take. "Grounded?" he asked. "What does that mean?"

"No more parties," Sarah said firmly. "You're going to spend the nights after concerts alone in your room until you've convinced me that you understand proper social conduct."

That got Sarah grinning again. "I like your attitude," she said. "I want to hear from Chuck and every one of the wives that you've apologized to them for your bad behavior and assured them nothing of the sort will ever happen again. Come see me once you've done that and we'll talk."

"Now we're late for rehearsal."

x-x-x-x-x