May 7, 2004

They were dancing, in their way.

Over the four months that Chuck had trained with Sarah Walker, their battles had become more like intricate choreography. Their footwork formed a call and response, like a tango. Chuck's foot would retreat, only for Sarah's to take its place. His leg would intrude upon the path of hers, and she would pirouette gracefully around it.

He noticed that her hair had come undone from its tight bun, and little wisps caught the breeze rushing in from the facility's open windows, looking like bits of yellow ribbon.

Their first training session had been an unmitigated disaster. Bryce had said something to Sarah, pissed her off. Then Chuck's first sentence to her had been, "You know, I don't really feel, um, comfortable, fighting a girl- woman, I mean. Woman. I don't feel comfortable fighting a woman because, well..." And he was was sure that hadn't helped. Chuck had learned pretty quickly that pissing Sarah Walker off was not something he was ever interested in doing again.

Now she was the closest thing he had to a friend besides Bryce.

With Bryce growing more and more distant everywhere except training missions, she was the only one he could talk to about this world.

Advance. Retreat. Prime. Spin. Forward. Backward. He shuffled away from Sarah's kick, keeping his distance as he did so and preventing any sort of effective counterattack. When she moved backwards, Chuck recognized it as a feint and refused to advance. She frowned, moving in a lazy circle around the mat, forcing him to mirror her movement to maintain that distance between them.

If he concentrated on just the wisps of her hair, he could mistake her for a ballerina.

You're allowing me to dictate the fight. That was her first lesson to him. If your opponent wants to brawl, don't. If they want to grapple, don't. Know your strengths and find a way to use them.

He kept his shoulders squared with his waist, adjusting his body so his dominant arm faced Sarah. He bent his knees slightly to facilitate movement, kept on the balls of his feet and evenly distributed his weight for speed, and reined in his elbows so they remained close to his body. Fundamentals. Attack stance.

Ellie and Devon were graduating soon. Becoming honest-to-God doctors. People were going to be putting their lives in his sister's hands. Which seemed to Chuck to be a pretty good idea.

Sarah smiled a teacher's smile at him and it reminded Chuck of the differences that still remained between their skill levels. Where his feet made obvious indents in the red padded wrestling mats that decorated the training area, she seemed to walk on air, leaving nothing in her wake. Where droplets of sweat fell from his nose, her skin seemed only to glow under the fluorescent lights.

She was paler than Jill.

"Did I mention I have a girlfriend?" Chuck had asked her that first day they met, nervous as he always was around new people and trying to avoid being put in any position where he would have to possibly hit a girl. "A very pretty girlfriend who I am very dedicated to and who would be really, really unhappy with me even being this close to a decidedly attractive blond. She has this thing about me with blondes."

"Chuck?" Her voice had been deathly still. "I'm here to train you." And Sarah Walker proceeded to beat the hell out of him.

She called it training.

He called it two dozen deep tissue bruises.

They rotated around each other for a few moments more, before Sarah went on the offensive. The key to blocking quick attacks is to focus on the joints. He concentrated on her elbows, stepping into and away from her body to keep her off balance enough to where she couldn't throw a kick.

He stepped in, she stepped away. She stepped to one side and he matched her. Their hands moved in complex, elegant patterns that carved paths of abstract shapes through the air. One of her arms found a way past his and he leaned back, watching it pass through the air that his head occupied a moment ago. When Chuck grabbed her other wrist in an attempt to pinion one arm behind her back, she cartwheeled out of his grip, those loose tendrils of hair spinning a wide circle through the air.

Even after four months, he still didn't hit girls.

She landed silently, her feet darting out from her loose-legged samurai workout pants. She had taught him to watch for his opponent's feet, as they would tell him where his dance partner was going. Then she wore bottoms that obscured them. Two steps back. One step to the right. Her smile at him was playful. One step forward. Your biggest advantage in any fight is going to be your wingspan, she had told him. You should be able to dictate when and where the fight comes to you, keep your opponent at a distance. Chuck mirrored all of his dance partner's steps, staying just out of her reach.

They had worked on his footwork two months ago. It had been a grueling lambada session of alternately arched and stretched legs, of precise foot placements and allegro toe taps. All while keeping his upper body in the guard position, a merengue from the waist down. They were mimicking that lesson now, the steps all ingrained in muscle memory. Counting the beats in his head, not so much in musical time as in the ebb and flow rhythm of battle.

The compromise they had come to was grappling. Because, despite Sarah's protestations, he just wasn't hitting a girl. She taught him about using the distance he could create to attack his opponent's extremities. He was trained to viciously twist an ankle from a kick, or bend a hand backwards from an attempted punch. It had worked mostly because Chuck knew that his attacks were too slow, and that even if he was somehow able to grab Sarah's leg, she'd pull off one of her crazy ninja moves learned straight from Jet Li, no doubt.

Truthfully, he was only marginally better at hitting his target. Where he had really improved was not getting hit himself. At least when he fought Bryce now, he could see the frustration on his friend's face at being unable to turn their fight into a close quarter brawl.

The second Matrix movie might have sucked, to the disappointment of both him and Dr. Busgang, but the line about knowing someone through fighting them made sense to him now in a way it never had before. The wordless communication between him and Bryce had improved by leaps and bounds over the past four months, to the point where they barely looked at each other at all. A twitch in Bryce's leg or a flicker in his eyes was all Chuck needed to understand what to do next.

Sarah sneaked into striking range with some deft footwork, rudely interrupting their carefully arranged give and take. Chuck felt a frown grow; Sarah was pressing the issue. A palm strike flew towards his face, but he was quick enough to grab her palm, redirecting her arm's momentum backwards in an attempt to leverage her elbow. Stuntwoman that she was, Sarah adjusted for Chuck's temporary advantage with a standing back flip. More of her hair came undone from her bun, trailing behind her like golden smoke.

Learning about your opponent through battle applied to Sarah, too. Predilections toward certain attacks betrayed certain emotions. An accelerando or ritardando of their carefully crafted pace communicated frustration or deadly focus. When she didn't let up on her attacks, she was teaching. When she took her time to land one particular strike, she was angry. She said more with actions than she ever did with words.

Sarah landed her flip, following that landing with a quick roundhouse that Chuck only just avoided. The reverse roundhouse caught him off guard, and he had to jump back quickly and inelegantly to avoid it, ruining the precision of their dance steps. He centered his gravity after a moment of imbalance, finding his way back to the rhythm.

He found it easy to lose himself in the precise movements, because it was like taking a test he knew the answers to. Sarah's feet would dictate the movements of his own. Her elbows decided the path of his arms. Her knees, the angle of his body. He could watch the wisps of her hair and think of nothing else but not getting hit.

He could ignore the fact that he wouldn't make it to Ellie and Devon's graduation, that he no longer played video games with Morgan, that Jill's voice now always sounded as if it were on speakerphone regardless of how closely her mouth was to the receiver, that Bryce bounced back and forth from friend to stranger.

He could just concentrate on their dance.

June 11, 2004

Deliberate.

It was a word Sarah had often heard used to describe her.

She took her time pulling the trigger of her SIG P226. Deliberate. She took in the feeling of the smooth steel against her finger. She had a particularly rough callus on that finger that deadened most of the touch response associated with firing her weapon, the result of years of firearm training. So she took her time pulling the trigger back, memorizing the feeling that changed as the callus hardened. After a year of using her SIG, she was prepared for the roar of the bullet flying out of the barrel, mostly silenced by the large headphones she wore, and had compensated easily for the 226's relatively low kickback.

The bullet ripped through the paper at the far end of the shooting range exactly where she had aimed.

Accurate.

It was another word Sarah had often heard used to describe her.

"See, when I do firearms training, I always like to try and give the guy a smiley face." Chuck had said that to her after one of their training sessions. She had laughed. She smiled now, then frowned at herself for the tangential thought.

Her father had his conman manifestos about pigs getting fat and hogs getting slaughtered, she had her CIA rules. The most important of which was simply, "No distractions."

She ignored the fact that her target now sported a hole where an eyeball would be.

She ignored the fact that she hadn't thought about her father in a long time.

No distractions.

She took a deep breath that felt heavy and stale on her tongue. The concrete cube always burned with the expunged gases of firearms, and she could taste the carbonic acid and nitrogen that lingered in the air. With no absorptive materials in the room, all of those chemicals hung for what felt like forever and made the room dank and oppressive. For whatever reason, even with all the lights on, it still seemed dark. So different from the facility where she trained Chuck, where it always seemed like it was high noon.

"So, tranq anyone else and their best friend today?" Chuck had liked asking her ridiculous questions.

Sarah steadied her stance again. She brought the gun to bear and tried to lose herself in the physical details. Feet shoulder width apart. Dominant foot slightly in front. Lean into the gun. Keep the trigger arm locked, and the grip arm slightly bent. Present a narrow profile. A proper shooting stance and a proper fighting stance weren't so much similar as much as they were echoes, applying the same principles of balance and quickness to different tasks.

Agile. Another word she'd heard.

She pulled the trigger again, using the same motion, but this time more quickly. The retort and recoil of the gun felt warm and familiar. Sarah had found that the best way to learn a skill was to perfect it at the slowest possible speed, then methodically work that speed up to real time. If a shot went wide, it didn't do to simply attempt the shot again. Instead, it was best to break down the motion into its component parts, finding and correcting which of them was throwing the whole act awry, then building the speed back up, minus the faulty piece.

The bullet tore through the paper vena cava.

"So, who are you, Sarah Walker?"

One of her father's little proverbs was about the person most needing to believe a lie was the person telling it.

She had laughed, acting a bit surprised at the question. It was only to be expected with how much time she and Chuck were spending on his hand-to-hand training. The surprise had been a lie, but she had believed it.

"Who am I?" She had looked at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling back at his grin. "That's a little existential for having just finished two hours of combat training."

Chuck had shrugged in response. It hadn't been an answer, but he hadn't pressed the issue.

For whatever reason, the question had nagged at her. She wasn't sure if she knew how to answer it. She wasn't sure if she understood why she felt the need to. So, who are you, Sarah Walker? The most logical way to determine it, Sarah figured, was to look at the words others- her instructors, her peers- had used to describe her. She was deliberate. She was accurate. She was agile.

None of it meant anything.

She fired again. If she concentrated enough, she could almost feel the bullet traveling through the chamber, the way it vibrated for just a fraction of a second across her hands. That vibration then rattled through her arms and into her shoulders before her center mass distributed and dissipated the physical reaction. The noise- the tiny sonic boom the bullet made breaking the sound barrier- wasn't nearly as loud under the earphones as her thoughts.

The target's kidney burst into confetti.

Professional. Another word that didn't mean anything.

"You know, Bryce and I are celebrating the completion of my unarmed combat training." Chuck told her this during the cool down after their last grueling session, an application of all of the skills she had taught him. They were trading sips from her water bottle and she could kind of taste him on the cap. "Wanna come?"

"Oh, that's a time for friends," she had said, dismissive.

He had looked at her sidelong and she felt a bit warm under his scrutiny. Outside of training, his standard facial expression seemed to be an etched grin that revealed the long laugh lines of his face. Seeing the intensity he put into his footwork transferred to her made her fidget uncomfortably.

"I know."

She had continued as though she hadn't heard the softly spoken declaration, but she had. "And, besides, we know how your girlfriend feels about you and blondes."

She saw him school his features. She knew she shouldn't have felt bad, but she did.

Deflective. Another word.

"Right," Chuck had said once, then again with more enunciation. "Right."

Another of her father's truisms was about telling one lie you knew a hundred times instead of one hundred lies once.

Sarah pulled the trigger again, the speed of her finger against the mechanism at roughly seventy-five percent, the necessary movement simply a matter of muscle memory. Her bullet tore through the paper heart of the target. Her shooting form hadn't changed in awhile. It had taken her roughly six months of training to adjust to the subtle differences in the SIG P226 compared to the Beretta 92 she had used previously.

The SIG was the pistol issued by the Secret Service.

As soon as Chuck's hand-to-hand combat had risen to acceptable levels, she had been reassigned. Secret Service training. To be followed by a year of Presidential duty, then her Red Test, then International Ops as an full-fledged agent. The rest of her life, planned out in increasingly fatalistic increments. A parallel of her life before the CIA, which had been planned out in increasingly profitable increments.

Usually, she didn't think about the future or the past. No distractions. Now, she couldn't stop thinking about that damn question.

Telling herself that she was only distracted by the question was a lie, but she believed it.

So, who are you, Sarah Walker? She could have asked Chuck the same thing. Who was Chuck Bartowski that he got her pulled from field training to teach him how to spar? Who was Chuck Bartowski, that he had occasionally been taken from their sessions for something Chuck only referred to as "Imaging?" Who was Chuck Bartowski that he was almost preternaturally gregarious every time she saw him, regardless of whether he seemed ready to collapse from physical vigor or not? Who was Chuck Bartowski that he was the primary, and maybe only, candidate for the mysterious Omaha project? If he was confused by her reticence, it paled in comparison to how confused she was by his openness.

"So, was CIA training, like, your first post-secondary option? Because, I mean, I didn't see that booth at career day, but..." After three weeks, their half-hour cool down sessions had been extended to an hour. Most of that extra time was spent seated, their backs on the same wall, their bodies separated first by both of their duffel bags, then just Chuck's, then nothing but a short distance which they occupied with frequent swaps of Sarah's Nalgene bottle.

She had smiled as much as she could manage at that question. "It made sense." She took a swig of her bottle, holding it out to him as she asked, "You?"

The question made his perpetual grin fall. For whatever reason, the fact that Chuck wasn't an unending fount of positivity reassured her.

"Well, you know... actually I have no idea." He laughed and Sarah had heard his usual self-deprecation in it. He took a small sip before continuing. "I'm not sure how my performance at Stanford led anyone to believe I'd be even adequate doing, um, this."

"You're doing more than adequate, Chuck." Chuck's self-pity was usually best headed off as soon as it began.

He looked at her. "Thanks," he had said, though Sarah could tell that he remained unconvinced. She took the water bottle he offered back to her. He looked away, a telltale sign that he would elaborate with a little push. When he looked back at her, she raised a single eyebrow. It worked flawlessly. "It's just... Like, even from the beginning, Bryce didn't want me to-"

She cut him off with a derisive laugh. "Chuck, I know he's your friend, but don't put too much faith in what he says. I understand that you trust him and you look up to him, but you need to stand on your own to make it in this world. You two may be training as partners, but any sort of co-dependency that evolves is only going to hurt both of you as agents."

Chuck's eyes had widened and Sarah kind of wanted to bury her head in sand. Talkative wasn't a word Sarah had ever heard used to describe her. It was uncharacteristic, and remembering it just caused Chuck's damn question to echo loudly through her thoughts now. So, who are you, Sarah Walker?

She fired once, twice, three times, cutting away a lethal cluster of holes in the target's stomach.

She took her eyes off of her target for just a moment, attempting to shake the thoughts loose from her head. No distractions.

Focused. Another word.

Her dad had a saying about the best lie being the truth. Or, at least, that was how he justified the con where she was supposed to be faking a broken arm, but had actually fractured the damn thing. When had the lie that was Sarah Walker become the truth? She wasn't Jenny anymore. Wasn't Katie or Rebecca. She certainly wasn't Samantha. Somewhere between throwing a knife at Langston Graham and throwing Chuck Bartowski over her shoulder, the lie had become the truth. She had become Sarah Walker.

So, who are you, Sarah Walker?

She gritted her teeth and reaimed her weapon. She pulled the trigger full speed once, twice, three, four, five times. The slide on the SIG popped open, indicating the end of the magazine. Sarah took a moment to look over her last shots. Head. Neck. Liver. Heart. She paused a bit before she acknowledged where the last shot went. The opposite eye.

What was it about Chuck Bartowski that simply wouldn't listen to "No distractions?"

"Sarah! You made it!" It had only been about nine in the evening when Sarah had stepped into the dimly lit sports bar, packed with people watching the Flyers and the Lightning, but she could tell Chuck had been drinking for at least a couple of hours. He wasn't drunk, but his movements hadn't been as sharp as she was used to. Then again, she was used to scrutinizing every subtle tell in his movement, so maybe she was judging him too harshly. He walked over to her and, without warning, scooped her up in a hug. Her first instinct had been to break his hold, head-butt him, and go on the offensive against her attacker. When she heard Chuck's joyful laugh, she tentatively responded with a pat on the back.

"I did," she had said after Chuck put her down. "Congratulations, Chuck."

"Yeah! Thanks!" He was entirely in his element, she noticed. His level of concentration may have been down, but she doubted anything could so much as unnerve him here. "When do you ship out?"He had to keep yelling because the noise coming from the crowd watching the game was so loud.

"Saturday." She was still going to be in the area, but the fact that both of them would have limited time outside of their training made that point moot.

"Okay, well, that gives you a day to recover from the hangover." Chuck's smile had been devious, and it had been so out of character that Sarah had almost laughed.

"I'm not getting drunk with you and Bryce, Chuck." She noticed that Chuck had somehow maneuvered the pair of them further down the bar from Bryce without her noticing. Chuck's friend didn't seem to mind, engaged as he was in conversation with an attractive redhead.

Looking back, Sarah knew she should have ended the night right there. She should have politely smiled and made some excuse. She should have adhered to her policy of no distractions. Instead, when Chuck simply said, "C'mon," and that one word had made him seem so much like a college kid that Sarah had to smile, she listened to her father's voice talking about how you only live once per identity.

"You have to try this drink Bryce and I got named after us. It's called Barkin' Mad."

It took her a beat to get it, but when she did she laughed louder than she had in a long time. "You two got a drink named after you? And it's called 'Barkin Mad'?" The repetition, and Chuck's sheepish smile, only fueled her mirth.

"Hey, this thing is not to be taken lightly, okay? Hey, Danny!" Chuck high-fived a random bar patron that had slapped him on the back, then turned back to her. "You ever had a Depth Charge?" She cocked her head curiously. "No? Well, it's when you drop a shot of whiskey in a pint of Guinness and you have to chug it before it curdles." She must have frowned or something, because Chuck laughed. "It's actually pretty good." Another guy had walked by Chuck, playfully ruffling his hair. "Thanks, Mike," Chuck said sardonically to the man's retreating back. "Anyway, our drink is the same thing, but with a Black and Blue instead of just Guinness. It's really good, and it doesn't curdle quite so fast." He turned to the bar just as a spot became open.

"Joe!" he had yelled at the bartender.

"Chuck! What can I do you for?"

"Two Barkin' Mads, barkeep." Chuck slapped his money down on the table.

Joe had smiled, pushing the cash back at him. "Chuck, you and Bryce spend enough here in a week to keep this place running for a month. This one's on me. Besides, what kind of bartender would I be if didn't let the pretty girls have a free drink every once in awhile? What's her name, Chuck?"

Sarah had smiled- she had been smiling quite a bit- when Chuck rolled his eyes. He had grabbed hold of her wrist and his drink and started to navigate them through the sea of people who all seemed to know his name. "What was that, Joe?" Chuck feigned difficulty hearing. "I can't hear you. It's too loud in here! We're going over into the other room!"

"My name's Sarah!"she had offered, tipping her drink towards him, though she was as unsure if Joe heard her as she was about why she was allowing Chuck to basically hold her hand.

As soon as they set foot into the other room, a cheer of "Chuck!" rose up from a nearby table. Dropping Sarah's hand, he cheerfully turned to the group that had addressed him. "Guys! What's up!" Turning towards Sarah, he gestured her closer. "Sarah, this is Mark, Chris, Ashley, Derek and Jess. Guys, this is Sarah." They greeted her with about as much enthusiasm as they had greeted Chuck. "Alright, I'm gonna go grab Bryce. We'll be back over, okay?"

As they walked back towards Bryce, Sarah couldn't stop herself from asking, "Do you know everyone in this bar?"

Chuck laughed. "It seems like that sometimes. We're here pretty often."

She had wanted to ask him how he focused, with all of that going on in the background of his mind. How he could have room for impeccable footwork and bartender names, for marksmanship and custom drink orders. How he could work so hard at becoming an agent with all of those distractions.

"You're going to have a good time tonight." His smile had been absolutely certain.

Looking around the shooting range now, Sarah sighed. She sat down at the bench, placing her spent firearm next to her. Chuck had been right. At that bar in D.C., she had a good time. And ever since she couldn't stop thinking about her father's proverbs, the words people had used to describe her, the suddenly innumerable distractions that had cut through her simplest rule, and Chuck's innocuous question. So, who are you, Sarah Walker?

She picked up her SIG and started to clean it.

A/N: And with that, Sarah is gone again. I know, I'm freaking evil. I'm sorry! It's necessary to the story as a whole, I promise! She comes back! I swear it!

Anyway, this was by far the hardest chapter to write of the whole story thus far. It took me about four or five tries to get Sarah down exactly how I wanted her. I actually posted a lengthy scene on the Google Group of the first lesson between Chuck and Sarah, but it was so not in keeping with the tone of Twist that it had to be relegated to GG status.

As always, so much thanks has to go to my wonderful beta, Frea O'Scanlin. She put up with endless postulations of how I should approach this chapter and I'm sure it was only through sheer force of will she didn't shout "JUST WRITE THE DAMN THING" at me. Second, much love to mxpw for his additional beta work on the chapter. He cleaned up a lot of needless babbling. And I've got to give one last shout out to Wepdiggy, who allowed me to get Sarah's scene rolling with some great details about shooting ranges. Without any of them, I'd have never finished this damn chapter.

Awesome Award voting is finished! I've got to thank everybody who voted for me enough in the preliminary round to get me nominated for Best Short Story (For Scenes From a Sandwich Shop) and Best New Author. I was beyond flattered, you guys.

Now, before we get to the reviews, my slavedriv-I MEAN BETA, Frea O'Scanlin, would like a word.

B/N: Hey, 'Mused's beta here. I hope everybody's enjoying the prequel to What Fates Imp- Wait just a second, this ISN'T the prequel to Fates? What the hizzle? Hee, either way, I'm just as mad as the rest of you are that Sarah's going away, but I promise you, I've chained 'Mused to a wall and forced him to tell me the ennnnnntire plotline, and I really think you're going to like what's coming. In fact, I liked it so much that I let him have a keyboard, one serving of bread, and a cup of water everyday so that he could write this chapter for you. Yes, Sarah's gone, but (SPOILER ALERT) she's coming back! And it MAY be even sexier than that fight scene because whew, let me tell you, I needed a few minions to fan me with palm leaves after reading that one for the first time.

Awww. Isn't she the best? And no I'm not contractually obligated to say that because otherwise I'll be taking lashes against the wall. I promise.

Oh, one last thing. Just like in chapters one through five, I'm having a contest for chapters six through then. How do you enter the contest? Exactly the same as last time. Chapters six through ten were named after various albums. Hit me up in a PM or a review and tell me what artists/bands recorded those albums and you can win a one-shot from me! Feel free to use Google to look it up this time around, as last time the response made me cry. :(

And, with that, ONTOTHEREVIEWS

tw200: The last part of chapter nine was done in Bryce's POV and Bryce is the one who has heard of Sarah Walker. Sorry if that wasn't clear! I'm glad you liked the chapter and that I'm wooing you over to the Chill Side (which is like the Dark Side but prettier). Thanks for the review!

DamageReport: Oh man, did you make the chocolate quote your Facebook status? Because, seriously, that would make my week. Thanks for reviewing!

zipfe: Glad you liked it and thanks for the review!

TeamBartowski: You're so very right that Sarah was easily rooted out because people wanted to see her. I'm glad you're liking Chuck's rather tumultuous mental state here, and I hope combat training with Sarah lived up to your expectations. Thanks for the review!

aardvark7734: So, I can't say enough how much I enjoyed all of this feedback, particularly how you broke down, scene-by-scene and effectively picked up on everything I was trying to communicate. It felt really good to know that all of these things I'm attempting to say are getting through. Regarding the rewrites, originally the first and third scenes were combined into one, and the sex scene was non-existent. It was convoluted and ineffective. The first scene ended up staying pretty much as-is, I only added a few more concluding paragraphs. Then the third scene was LITERALLY the bare minimum of dialog pulled from the original copy to get the plot point across. Dunno if any of that is of note, but I figured I'd throw it out there. Again, thanks so much for all the feedback!

Lanababe: An Aussie? Sweet! To assuage your fears, I promise no Sarah/Bryce. Promise. Unfortunately, no more Sarah for a little while either. I know, I'm sorry. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks as always for reviewing!

ChaosKid0: You are indeed right, but Chuck and Sarah found a way to work around it like they find a way to work around most things. Except season three. Anyway, thanks for the review!

onesmartgoalie: Your comment about getting to see a similar scene from Chuck's perspective has tickled my imagination. If a Chuck POV sex scene shows up, I put full responsibility on your shoulders. ;) Glad you liked the chapter and hoped you liked this one, too. Thanks for reviewing!

xx-crispy-mnms-lover-xx: Well, Bryce and Sarah have been in the same program for, what, a year now? They at least know of each other, even if it's not personal. Glad that I can convince even a massive Charah fan to give Chuck and Jill a shot! Thanks for reviewing!

Anne: Aww, don't get angry! I'm sorry! I promise that sometime in the future of this story Chuck and Sarah will get busy. Does that help? :) Thanks for saying I'm an excellent writer, and thanks so much the review!

jinxed97: I'm glad you enjoyed my Jill/Chuck moment. I'm as excited as the rest of you for the first real Chuck/Sarah moment (did it happen in this chapter or not? Oooooh, mystery), so I hope you all like the story enough to wait for it. Thanks so much for reviewing!

enz8: Aw! I'm glad that I inspired you, it's a wonderful feeling to know that something you've done has helped to push someone else's imagination. Regarding the Trainee Program and all that stuff, I mean, I know this isn't the real way the CIA handles business, but it's the Chuck-verse, where a Red Test is a real thing and they have fight scenes with the lindy hop. It's just more fun to do it their way, you know? I appreciate any help that you're willing to give, and if need be I'll be sure to hit you up. Thanks for the review!

Joe: I really am evil. I can't apologize for that enough. :) As far as the length of this fic, well, It's going to be four parts, so it'll probably be a good amount of chapters still. I'm glad that you're liking it to the point where you want it to be longer! Thanks so much for your kind words, and for voting for me in the Awesomes. I really apreciate it. And, of course, thank you for reviewing!

Pegasus0012: Too much time on training? :( Awww. Unfortunately, I've got this entire story planned out, and the training is a deathly important part of Chuck's journey. I hope it doesn't bore you too much! Thanks for the review!

Fire From Above: It does seem that way, doesn't it? Mwahahahaha. Okay, yeah, it does seem that way you're right. :) Glad you liked the chapter so much, and thanks, of course, for the review!

bubbly.o9: She did! And then I took her away again because I'm a jerkface. I'm sorry! I hope you still like the story! Thanks for the review!

Foxmac: Oh man I would TOTALLY buy that book. And then I would re-edit the Chuck episodes with subtitles at the bottom for each and every Casey grunt. Any video editors willing to take this on? Freelz, it needs to happen. Anywho, I hope you liked the Story of Chuck and Sarah in Twist, Part One! Thanks as always for the wonderful feedback!

Alaster Raz: Frea is freaking fantastic, and deserves all the credit in the world for how this story has turned out. I take your praise only because I'm a narcissist who can't give it ALL to her. ;) Thanks so much for the review and all the kind words!

JohnClark43: Ahhh, I gotcha. I can see how it was a little hard to follow. I hope this chapter, which did a lot of jumping around, was as clear as chapter nine. I'm sorry about there being too much Jill! And I'm sorry for taking Sarah away so suddenly! But I promise, the next time she comes back, she comes back for good. No foolsies. Hope you liked it, and thanks for the review!

Wepdiggy: Devious Jill is fun, I concur. Even if she's only being devious because she's trying to be responsive. I hope you liked Sarah's official introduction (and subsequent flight from) Twist. And I'm glad you like the chapter titles, and I in no way will ever apologize for forcing you to change your next chapter of CY, mostly because being an influence on a story that influences me makes me feel a little proud. :) Thanks for the review, good sir!

DanaPAH: I TOTALLY believe you that you called it. For real. :) All of our feedback is always excellent, and I love hearing how you look at the story and what you (and every one of my readers) think of it. I agree that Chuck needs to take what Jill said to heart, but I also agree that the puzzle box is going to come back and bite her. And, well, what happens then? (Do I know the answer to that question? Maaaaaaybe.) Anywho, I KIND of gave you Chuck and Bryce from a different perspective, so I hope that was enough. As far as how much longer the training goes, it's still a little ways yet, BUT the nature of it is going to be changing from facility-training to field-training. Missions with senior agents and all that fun stuff. Mark your calendar! :) As always, thanks so much for all your feedback.

supesfan18: The answer to your question regarding Chuck, Bryce and Sarah is: neither. No Sarah and Bryce and no immediate Sarah and Chuck. I know, I'm a bad man for kicking her out of the story so soon after introducing her, but like I said, next time she's back she's back for good. I hope you like the story enough to keep with it! Thanks so much for the review!