Chapter 10: The Chinese Ghost Story

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, October 15th, 2007

"Sarah! So nice to see you!"

"Hi, Ellie!"

Was Ellie behaving a little differently? Sarah couldn't tell as the woman stepped to the side to let her enter. Without inviting her in, of course. A lot of the quirks in the Bartowski family made sense now.

"Chuck! Your date is here!" Ellie yelled.

"We're not going on a date," Sarah told her. "We're just going to hang out at my apartment. Eat dinner. Watch a movie. Have a good time."

"That sounds like a date to me," Devon, who seemed to have just come in from a run, commented.

"We're not going out," Sarah said.

"Still should count as a date," he insisted.

Ellie smiled at her fiancé. "It doesn't count as a date if you're living together."

"Mhh." Devon stepped closer to Ellie. "Not romantic enough?"

"It's not a date if you're staying at home," Ellie retorted.

"But that can be very romantic," Devon replied. "Candlelight dinner… soft music… Chuck gone from home for the night so we won't be disturbed…"

"Oh…"

"I feel so welcome," Chuck said. But, as Sarah noticed when she saw him standing on the stairs, he was smiling.

She met him at the foot of the stairs and embraced him while giving him a peck on the lips.

"Don't be like that, Chuck. Enjoy your evening," Ellie said.

"Yes. And if you return home before the night's over, anything you see is on your head!" Devon added.

"Devon!" Ellie scolded him, but she was smiling.

That woman wasn't merely maintaining a cover, and it showed.

Sarah was very glad she could quickly leave with Chuck.

California, Los Angeles, Glendale, October 15th, 2007

"You know, it's kind of funny…" Chuck said as they entered Sarah's apartment.

"What is?"

"You were as quick to leave as I usually am when Ellie and Captain Awesome get frisky. PDAs are only acceptable if they serve to maintain the cover, hm?" He smiled at her.

She forced herself to smile. It wasn't quite like that. "I didn't want the PDAs to turn into TMI," she lied.

"Ah!" His smile widened. "No danger of that, although it probably depends on your definition of TMI."

"Better safe than sorry," she said as she took out a diet coke and a cola from the fridge.

"Ah…thanks!" He was already on the couch when she returned to the living room. "My favourite."

"I know," she said as she sat down next to him. Without touching him.

"Oh, how… my file has my favourite drink in it?"

She laughed. "You've been drinking the same in Wienerlicious for weeks." Even a bad spy would have noticed. And his file did have his favourite drinks in it. Now.

"Ah. Silly me!" He took a swallow, taking his time, she noticed. "This is a really comfortable couch," he said. "Not just for sitting, but for sleeping as well. I'm no couch expert, more like a couch potato, but it has to be said. Did you pick it out, or did the CIA provide you with the best couch for a spy..." He blinked. A flash? Sarah was about to get her gun when he suddenly chuckled. "They actually have a list of the best couches for safe houses!"

Sarah hadn't known that, but she wasn't surprised. "You'll find that the agency - like every governmental organisation - runs on a lot of paperwork."

"But files on the most suitable couches?" He shook his head.

"It's always better if, should a fellow agent have to sleep over, they will be rested in the morning, and didn't spend hours on an uncomfortable couch," she pointed out.

"Wouldn't you share the bed instead in such a case?" He coughed. "I mean, in a purely platonic way. Two fellow spies sharing limited resources."

She eyed the couch with a sudden distaste. If the couch were less comfortable, she'd have an excuse for sharing a bed with Chuck. That would be… She stomped on that thought, hard. It was unprofessional. "I think it's more likely that someone had a relative involved in making couches, and wanted to send some business their way without being obvious about it," she said.

"Oh." He actually pouted. "Now you've destroyed my illusions about the CIA being a bastion of perfection."

"By pointing out possible corruption?" She raised her eyebrows.

"That. And I was quite enamoured with the idea that even the couches were part of a well-oiled spy machine." He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of it. On the wrong side, though - opposite of where she was sitting. "It made me feel safer, too."

She suppressed the sudden impulse to lean over and wrap her arms around him. "I'll protect you," she said. "As will Casey."

"He didn't seem to be happy today."

"He wasn't," she replied. "But that won't matter. He'll do his job anyway." Any job, as far as she knew.

"And his job is protecting the Intersect," Chuck said. He wasn't smiling any more.

"Yes."

"As is yours."

Ah. That was why. She nodded.

"Until you find a way to get it out of my head."

"Yes." She sighed. "But as I told you, I might not be able to stay a spy after that."

"Oh." He blinked, and she thought she saw his lips starting to twist into a smile before he frowned. "I'm sorry about that."

"It wasn't your fault," she told him.

"Yes," he said, though it didn't sound as if he believed it. "It was Bryce's fault."

Sarah winced and withdrew the hand she had been about to put on his thigh. While Chuck was correct, Bryce wasn't a topic she wanted to explore. Or think about. Even though he was a good example of the reasons it was a cardinal sin for a spy to fall in love with another spy. Or was that 'especially' instead? Not that Chuck was a spy, not really. "He's dead," she told him.

"I know. And I feel guilty about being glad about that." He sighed, tilting his head back until he was staring at the ceiling.

"That's normal." She had gone through the same when she heard Bryce had been killed while betraying the agency.

"Normal for a spy?" he turned his head to look at her.

"Normal for a human being," she replied.

"Ah."

"Spies are human as well," she told him. All too human, all too often. But that wasn't a subject she wanted to talk about either.

Lately, there had been a lot of subjects, she realised, that she didn't want to touch. Surprisingly, vampires wasn't one of them.

Which said a lot about her life, of course. But that was another such subject.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, October 17th, 2007

"A real underground spy base! In the middle of Burbank!"

Sarah had to smile at the enthusiasm Chuck displayed when she showed him the - finally - completed base under the Wienerlicious. It was impressive indeed - sleek, new and furnished with the latest technology. Both agencies had splurged here - but then, their mission was crucial for national security.

"Yeah, yeah… Great, overwhelming, impressive… are we done gaping now and can we start working? This isn't a tourist tour."

Leave it to Casey to ruin the mood, she thought as Chuck winced.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just… it's like out of a movie! Or a game!"

"This isn't a game, Bartowski!" Casey growled. "There are no level-ups or second lives here!"

Chuck flinched a moment, then seemed puzzled. "You know, you sound like you know about…"

Casey growled.

"Shutting up now!"

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. "This is, as I was saying, our new base. The main entrance is through Wienerlicious - the door is disguised in the storage room and will only open if you pass a retinal scan. You have the key to the back door of the store?"

"Ah, yes!" Chuck held the key up with a grin.

"Don't lose it," Casey snapped from where he was checking the armoury.

As soon as the agent's attention returned to the weapons, Chuck leaned towards her and whispered: "He's in a bad mood today, isn't he?"

Casey hadn't taken the revelations about the supernatural well. Not that Sarah could blame him. She hadn't had nightmares, precisely, but she hadn't slept well either. And not because she could hear Chuck in the living room. But Casey was her partner, so she merely said: "He's rarely in a good mood unless he got to kill an enemy."

Chuck let slip a forced-sounding laugh. "I hope that was a joke."

"Mostly," she admitted with a wry grin. It wasn't as if she knew anything about Casey's private life - if the man had one. Not that he knew anything about hers, other than her past relationship with Bryce. They were both spies, after all.

"So… this is where we do our prep work?" Chuck looked around in the command centre.

"No, this is where we prepare our missions while you try not to get into our way and occasionally provide us with useful information," Casey snapped.

Sarah glared at him, but the man ignored her, and she wasn't about to push him. Certainly not right before they were to be briefed on a new mission - the first time they would talk to their superiors since Chuck's revelation. Well, the first time as far as she knew - Casey might have spilt already. She looked at him. He didn't seem at ease, but that was normal given the circumstances. And the same reasons that kept her from informing the director applied to him as well. Well, she added with a glance at Chuck, most of them, at least.

For now, things should be alright. As alright as things could be when you knew you were surrounded by supernatural predators straight out of horror movies.

"Good evening, Major Casey, Agent Walker, Mr Bartowski."

The general and the director didn't look like they suspected anything, Sarah noted. But they wouldn't show anything, of course, if they did - they were veteran spies. Her own face wouldn't betray anything either. And Chuck being nervous would seem normal. So she hoped.

The screen next to the one with the video conference feed lit up, and floor plans and pictures appeared. "This is…" the general started to say

"Martin Leslie Browning!" Chuck blurted out. "Core member of the F-35 development team."

The director cleared his throat. "That is correct. Mr Browning's girlfriend has gone missing during their trip to Los Angeles." Another picture appeared next to the man, showing a young woman. "Janice Wang. She disappeared after leaving their hotel yesterday evening."

"We suspect that she has been kidnapped in order to put pressure on Browning and is being held in Los Angeles. Your mission is to track her down and either rescue her, should she have been kidnapped, or capture her, should she turn out to be a spy. If she can't be captured, neutralise her. Whatever she gained from Browning cannot be allowed to fall into foreign hands."

"Understood, ma'am," Casey said.

"Very well. Good luck, gentlemen, agent." Beckman nodded, and the screen went dark.

"Uh…" Chuck said.

"Don't worry, you don't have to get your hands dirty," Casey said with a sneer. "We'll handle the wetwork."

That didn't seem to reassure Chuck. "I wasn't worried about that until you mentioned it, actually. No, the hotel they were staying at..."

"What about it?" Casey snapped.

"It's, uh, haunted. As far as I know, at least." Chuck flashed that weak, forced smile Sarah knew so well by now.

And Casey cursed up a storm.

California, Los Angeles, Westwood, October 17th, 2007

"Our cover story is going to have Ellie plan the wedding for real," Chuck said as they parked near the 'Harrington's Hotel'.

"I thought she was already doing that," Sarah said as she looked around to scan for threats. The sun had set, after all, which would bring out the criminals. And, she reminded herself, the supernatural predators.

"She was mostly joking. But a spontaneous trip to Vegas?" Chuck shook his head. "She actually told me that if we got married without inviting her, she'd stop speaking to me."

It wasn't the best cover story Sarah had ever used, but it had several advantages. "It's close enough so we can say we took my car and don't need to fake plane records, and it's a big tourist destination - if someone you know is there, it won't look suspicious if they missed us. And," she added with a grin, "it wouldn't look suspicious either if we spent the whole trip in the hotel room."

He coughed, and she thought that, if not for the dim lighting in the parking lot, she would have seen him blush.

"Can you save your flirting for the witnesses?" Casey's voice coming from their earphones interrupted what reply Chuck might have made. "We're on a mission, not on your honeymoon."

"Status?" Sarah asked. The agent already had set up a sniper's nest in a hotel across the street.

"Nothing on the scope," Casey growled. "No suspect, no ghost. I'm thinking of shooting the idiot smoking pot in bed on the fourth floor, though."

Chuck looked concerned, so Sarah shook her head and mouthed 'joking' to him. Casey wouldn't really shoot a civilian. Well, not for such a minor thing. "We're going in," she said out loud.

"'Going in'. That sounds like Call of Duty," Chuck said as he took their luggage out of the trunk.

"This isn't a game, Bartowski! This is a mission. And you better hope your damn ghost won't mess it up!" Casey hissed.

She saw Chuck tug at his collar, where the microphone for their radios was concealed as a button. "Can one turn this off?" he asked.

"Don't even think about it," Casey snapped. "If you go dark on us or want to sneak away, I'll shoot you in the knee and leave you for your ghost!"

"Casey!" Sarah said through clenched teeth while Chuck apparently checked if he was in the agent's line of fire.

"It's not my ghost," he said. "There are just rumours about a haunting, anyway. Could be just some faulty wiring making noise in the night."

"Spooky shit's your business," Casey replied.

"It's Caridad's, actually. And Phil's."

"Why haven't they eliminated the ghost then?" Casey shot back.

"You can't just kill - slay - a ghost. You need to, sort of, exorcise them. Usually by doing something left unfinished or so. That's not the kind of mission Slayers excel at," Chuck explained. "They're more the 'hit it, stab it, kill it with fire' type."

"Sounds like Casey," Sarah said.

The agent growled a curse in reply, but Chuck gave her a thumbs up.

"I saw that, Bartowski!"

"Uh…"

Sarah sighed. "Let's go."

Sarah didn't notice anything suspicious during the check-in. The bored clerk, fresh from a smoke break according to the whiff of cigarette smoke she caught, pretty much waved them through. No bellboy - but then, the place wasn't exactly a five-star hotel. Not any more - it had started as one, in the 1920s, but the owner must not have kept up with the times - just enough to miss out on the 'vintage' claim. However, it was clean, and the elevator ran smoothly.

Thick, old walls, too, she noted when they entered their room. Those would stop most sounds as well as most small-calibre weapons. And the bathroom right to the left after the door was clean and stocked, she noted

"Uh, Sarah?"

"What?" she asked, following Chuck into the room. He was pointing at the bed. The single, king-sized bed. Ah! She grinned a little. "We're supposed to be a couple on vacation, not in counselling. That means a single bed."

"Ah. I don't see a couch," he said, looking around.

"The bed's large enough that we can sleep comfortably," she told him. "Unless you're moving in your sleep."

He shook his head. "No, no. I sleep like a log."

"Well, we won't do much actual sleeping tonight," she told him.

"We won't?" His expression was a study of mixed emotions.

"We've got a mission," she went on. "We'll have to investigate the hotel."

"Ah. Of course. Of course." He nodded several times.

"If you've finished flustering Bartowski, can we focus on the mission now?" Casey butted in again. "We've got a spy to catch!"

"Or a kidnapping victim to rescue," Sarah reminded him.

And a ghost to avoid, she added to herself.

Almost midnight. The witching hour. Not the most auspicious time to start a mission which might involve a ghost, Sarah thought as she checked her watch. "How dangerous are ghosts?" she asked as she checked her gear. Which now included a cross, a stake and a few vials of holy water.

"Uh… That depends. Usually, they can't do much. They can't touch living beings, for example."

Well, that sounded good to Sarah.

"However, some ghosts can use telekinesis on objects. Which they can throw at you."

That didn't sound good.

"Then there are some ghosts that can possess you."

That sounded bad.

"There was this couple of ghosts - a couple, I mean. A student and a teacher died in a murder-suicide, and on the anniversary of their deaths, they possessed two people and reenacted their deaths. Buffy managed to stop them and break the cycle."

That was even worse. "How long did that go on?"

"Uh… they died in 1955, and Buffy stopped them in 1997… so… about forty-one years or forty-two, depending on how you count it and whether you like Douglas Adams or not."

"They killed eighty-two people?" She stared at him. Eighty-two dead people and no one noticed?

He flinched a little. "It was a Hellmouth?"

She wouldn't ask about Douglas Adams. "Well, there wasn't anything in the news about a string of suicide-murders in this hotel," she said.

"Well, some ghosts can sort of drain people. Like batteries." Chuck winced when she looked at him - she would have to control her expression better. "And when they have drained the human completely, they die. The human, that is."

Well, Sarah didn't recall a string of unexplained deaths either.

"And then there are vengeance spirits," Chuck went on. "They can manifest a body of their own and touch and kill people. Usually do, I think - the one in Sunnydale did, or so I heard, until he was killed with his own weapon."

"His own weapon?"

"Uh, I don't remember the details - I was just helping Morgan study those things, and it's been a while."

She managed to refrain from making a sarcastic comment. Chuck looked apologetic already. Even if it wasn't his fault at all.

She checked her watch again. It was now past midnight. "Time to go," she said.

"So, we're going to break into the Hotel's security room and check their records?" Chuck asked.

"We already have them - the police got them right after Browning filed a missing person report."

"Oh."

"We're checking for discrepancies and signs of tampering," she explained.

"Right." He nodded and pulled on the hem of his black turtleneck. He wasn't a spy, but he looked the part. Mostly, she added to herself when he frowned while fiddling with his new watch with an integrated GPS locator and a communicator.

"And afterwards, we'll be checking Browning's room. In case someone bugged it."

"Ah… while he's there?"

"He'll be sound asleep by then," she said. Or they would help him along with a sleeping dart.

The hotel's security was atrocious, in Sarah's opinion. The security cameras had blind spots big enough to drive a car through. The lock on the security room wouldn't have stopped a stoned junkie with a bent sewing needle. There was no security guard at all, and the night clerk was asleep in his office. At least the records were digital and not analogue tapes. And the room was clean of bugs - the electronic kind, at least. She thought she had seen something small skitter in the shadows when they had switched the computer on.

She shook her head as Chuck clicked through the various folders in the recycle bin on the ageing computer's hard drive. "Porn… more porn… even more porn… pirated nature documentaries…" He looked up at her and grimaced. "I hope that's not considered porn by whoever downloaded it here."

Sarah nodded in agreement.

"Really, it's a wonder that there are any records - it seems everyone used the security server to store their private data! Didn't they think at all about the possibility of the police claiming the records?"

"I don't think they thought at all, period," Sarah replied.

He nodded. "And they didn't know anything about computer security! As if deleting a folder would actually erase it!" Sighing, he added: "Amateurs!"

She smiled at that. It seemed Chuck had his professional pride as well.

"Looks who's talking, nerd," Casey's voice sounded in their earbuds. "No one's interested in dirty pictures unless they were taken in the hotel."

"Uh… does that mean I have to actually go through all the porn?" Chuck asked.

"Flash on it, ghostbuster."

"Copy all of it," Sarah said. "We can go over it later." At Chuck's expression, she added: "You probably have a lot of such pictures in your head already."

"Hey, everyone does… Oh, you mean…" he pointed at his temple with a sheepish expression.

She smirked in return and patted his shoulder. "Let's finish this so we can move on to Browning's room."

"Joy," Chuck muttered. "First a porn session, then sneaking into someone's bedroom to spy on them - I feel like a stalker."

"And I feel like piercing my eardrums listening to you babbling! Step on it, nerd, we haven't got all night!"

"Well, technically we do have all night…" Chuck broke off when Casey growled.

Sarah sighed. At least they hadn't seen any sign of a ghost.

"Done!" Chuck said a few minutes later. "That system needs some serious upgrading, too - that shouldn't have taken this long."

"Leave a note for hotel employees - or a bad review," Casey said.

Chuck blinked. "Spy humour, right?"

"An attempt at it," Sarah said.

"Haha. Get moving, lovebirds, before a big bad ghost gets you!" Casey snapped.

"Is he listening in to all our conversations?" Chuck asked.

"Yes," Casey replied before Sarah could.

"I didn't know that 'overwatch' meant big brother is watching you," Chuck commented.

"It's necessary for the mission," Sarah explained.

"It's not as if I want to listen to your clumsy flirting."

"Let's go," Sarah said, nodding towards the door.

They left and sneaked down the hallway, past the sleeping night clerk and went up the stairs again. They were almost at Browning's room on the fourth floor when Sarah suddenly heard eerie voices in the hallway. Sounds that were growing louder - coming closer. The ghost!

She froze for a moment, then glanced at Chuck. "What do we do?"

"Either we retreat, or we wait and see what ghost it is," Chuck replied. He looked nervous, licking his lips, but he wasn't panicking.

"Retreat!" Casey snapped. "Retreat now!"

They didn't. The voices grew louder - they were almost around the corner. Sarah couldn't understand anything - there were words, but incomprehensible ones. A cacophony of voices groaning and whispering. Then they were in the hallway. Right next to them. Sarah tensed, looking around - the voice came from her right, but there was only the wall there. And then the voices and sounds faded.

"I didn't feel cold at all. Did you feel cold?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Ghosts are supposed to make you feel cold," Chuck said. "What kind of ghost doesn't drain heat?"

Sarah studied the wall. The voices had faded a little too abruptly. And there was something… She drew her knife and wedged the blade behind the wooden strip running at eye level on the wall and pried it away. Ah!

"What kind of ghost uses concealed speakers?" she asked, pointing at the small device hidden behind the strip.

"The kind that isn't a ghost at all," Chuck said, frowning at the speaker.

Before they could investigate further, Sarah heard a door open around the corner, and a man complain about the 'unholy racket'.

"Retreat," she hissed as she put the strip back - they couldn't sneak past anyone in the hallway.

"So… if they have several of those speakers planted in the walls, spread out, they could simulate a ghost's wail passing through. There weren't obvious jumps in the sound's volume, so they must have a sophisticated computer handling that. Certainly better than the computer handling hotel security. Whoever they are, that is." Chuck wasn't quite pacing in front of the bed in their room, but he looked like he wanted to, Sarah noticed. And he seemed quite focused - no sign of being nervous at all. "So… I think we can safely assume that this isn't a ghost."

"No shit, Sherlock," Casey commented.

"Thank you, Mr 'Retreat Now'," Chuck snapped back, then winced.

"Next time, I'll watch you die," Casey growled. "If I give you an order, I expect you to execute it."

"I was the agent on site, and I made the call to stay," Sarah cut in - though with a glare at Chuck. He should know better than calling Casey a coward, even indirectly.

"Whatever," the agent grumbled. "I'm out for tonight. Try not to get killed in my absence."

Chuck removed his earplug and the microphone as Sarah did the same. "Does he ever have good days?" he asked, stashing them in a case concealed in the bottom of a can of shaving cream.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "We haven't worked together before."

"You haven't?"

"The NSA and the CIA usually cover different areas." And were more rivals than allies, but that Sarah didn't mention.

"Ah." Chuck nodded. "Anyway, I don't think this is a real ghost."

Sarah nodded. "I agree."

"So… do we wait until everyone who was woken up by the wailing has gone back to sleep?"

"No." Sarah sat down on the bed. "It's too late now. We'll sneak in tomorrow when Browning isn't in his room."

"Ah, OK." Chuck took a step towards the bed, then stopped. "Uh… so… how do we handle this?" And now he looked nervous again.

She chuckled. "We go to bed like usual. Just with less distance between us." It was simple, after all.

"Uh, right."

It wasn't that simple, Sarah realised half an hour later. Chuck was right next to her, not in another room. If she moved her left arm just a little, she'd touch him. She could hear him breathe - and she could tell he wasn't asleep either. Her sleepwear - t-shirt and shorts - felt both too little and too much at the same time.

Having a fellow agent sleeping in the same bed shouldn't mean anything to her. Hell, she thought with clenched teeth, sleeping with someone while undercover shouldn't mean anything.

But it did. Damn it, it did.

California, Los Angeles, Westwood, October 18th, 2007

When Sarah woke up in the morning, she realised two things at once: First, she had managed to fall asleep, but rather late - it was well past eight in the morning already. And she had, somehow, moved in her sleep towards Chuck and had draped half her body over his - her head was resting in the crook of his shoulder, her arm stretched over his chest, and her leg had slid over his. So, it had been all hers, not his fault. As far as you could fault anyone for moving in their sleep.

At least, she hadn't drooled on him. She extricated herself quickly and returned to her side of the bed. Had he noticed? She studied him. He was breathing steadily and snoring slightly. No tension in his body or face. No, he hadn't noticed.

Good. The last time this had happened had been with Bryce. Well, they had fallen asleep cuddling; she hadn't moved in her sleep… She shook her head, slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

When she returned, wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, Chuck was awake, but still in bed. "Uh, morning."

"Morning." She briefly smiled. "Bathroom's free."

"Uh, I noticed."

Of course, he did. She nodded. "Go take a shower and shave while I get dressed. Unless you want to watch..." she added with a smirk she didn't quite feel right now.

"Ah, of course, sorry!" He got out of bed and scrambled for the bathroom. And he was blushing a little, or so she thought.

There were two guests loudly complaining to the clerk at the reception desk when Chuck and Sarah left the hotel for a late breakfast and a meeting with Casey. Judging by the suitcases with them and the parts Sarah overheard as she walked past, they were leaving and wanted their money back, but the clerk was having none of it. Well, the hotel wasn't exactly overbooked.

Casey was waiting for them in the diner he had picked. And judging by the remains on his plate, he had eaten already - Sarah hoped that it had improved the man's mood.

"There you are. Spent too long making out last night, so you overslept? Or were you too scared of the ghost to sleep?"

Obviously, it hadn't improved his mood. She clenched her teeth for a moment, refraining from making a cheap remark in return.

"There's no ghost," Chuck said as he took a seat across Casey. "It's a hoax."

Sarah took a seat that, unlike Chuck's, didn't put her back to most of the diner.

"You flashed?" Casey asked.

"No. But it's obvious, isn't it? A haunting drives the price for a house way down. A friend of mine had a ghost in her apartment; rent was dirt cheap for the location. Someone's trying to drive the hotel out of business!" Chuck declared. "Well, it's a theory," he added after a moment.

Casey grunted. "Or it's a decoy for an op. Something for us to chase while the enemy is making their move."

"We'll have to investigate it anyway," Sarah pointed out.

"Browning first," Casey replied.

"Of course."

The waitress's arrival interrupted their talk, but as soon as she had left with their orders - and a refill for Casey - they resumed their discussion.

"We're sticking to the plan," Casey insisted. "If there's no need to call the Ghostbusters, then we can proceed without interference."

"Slayers very rarely deal with ghosts," Chuck pointed out. "That's more the domain of watchers and witches."

"Do I look like I care about supernatural jurisdictions?" Casey snarled. "Do your job and flash on something so we can do ours."

As abrasive as the former marine was, he had a point: They needed to continue with their mission.

After breakfast, though.

"The target has left the building."

"Copy." Sarah nodded at Chuck, who was on their bed. "Casey saw Browning leave. We're up."

"Alright." He got up. "So… we just walk up to his room and break in?"

"Pretty much, yes. Provided there are no witnesses in the hallway," Sarah replied.

There weren't - the hotel didn't have too many occupied rooms in the first place - and they reached Browning's room without trouble. Picking the old lock took about as much time as opening it with the proper key would have taken, and Sarah drew her silenced gun as she entered. "Stay back and guard the door," she whispered.

Bathroom clear. Bedroom clear. Walk-in closet, clear. "Clear," she announced, holstering her gun.

Chuck had, for once, stayed at the door, 'guarding' it. She made a note of that, as she pulled out her bug scanner. And cursed under her breath. "The room's under surveillance," she told Chuck and Casey. "Multiple bugs." Which meant they had been noticed as well.

"Those could be from the fake ghost guys," Chuck said. She put her finger on her lip and glared at him, causing him to wince and mouth 'sorry' back.

There was no need to be too subtle any more; she picked up the closest bug. That wasn't a civilian model. Chinese or Russian, she thought. Which meant it could be anyone trying to frame either country.

But Chuck was staring at it. And blinking rapidly. He opened his mouth, but Sarah cut him off. "Not here!"

"Sorry."

She quickly searched the room, but she didn't find anything suspicious. She looked at Chuck, then pointed at the door. "Hallway clear?"

Casey confirmed it before Chuck could open the door. A few minutes later, they were back in their room. Which Sarah scanned for bugs again, just in case.

"Alright," she finally told Chuck, "What did you see?"

"The bugs were planted by Chinese agents."

The Chinese? Sarah frowned. "Did you recognise anyone?"

"Only their Leader. Li Hao. Major. 36 years old. Works at the Consulate General here. He was with two others."

She hadn't heard of that spy. Which meant he either wasn't that good or too good to make waves. She'd have to assume the later. "Casey?"

"I heard," came the reply over the radio. "We'll have to check our surveillance on the Consulate. In case they are running the mission from there."

"If they are, then this is likely a rushed mission," she said. "Otherwise, a safe house would have been prepared in advance and without involving the Consulate. Wang could have planted the bugs herself if she was involved."

"Unless there are two factions," Casey pointed out.

Sarah nodded. With the Chinese, there was always the political angle, Internal politics could be murder. And it wasn't as if the USA were the only country with spy agencies competing with each other. "But she wouldn't involve the Consulate in that case," Sarah said. "Check with the agents monitoring the Consulate. We need their data." That was the NSA's turf. Well, the FBI's, but the NSA could work better with them than the CIA.

She took Casey's grunt as agreement and signed off.

Chuck looked confused. Sarah smiled with a slight sigh. Explaining Chinese spy politics could take a while. Although... "China is more complex than you know. Contrary to the tales you've heard, it's not a monolithic block…"

She grinned at his expression.

"...so we don't know yet what Wang's role in all of this was."

"How can they do any work if they don't work together?" Chuck asked, shaking his head. "This sounds as if they sabotage each other as often as not!"

Like the US spy agencies. Sarah carefully didn't voice that thought. "That should tell you how dangerous they are," she said instead.

"It sounds like the Buy More staff," he grumbled.

"Spies are employees," she told him, "with all their flaws. I hope I didn't destroy any of your illusions."

"Hollywood lied to me," he complained - but he was smiling.

"Hollywood lies about a lot of things."

Casey's voice interrupted them. "I've got the data from our surveillance of the consulate. Wang visited the consulate the day after they arrived in Los Angeles. Two days before her disappearance. They haven't anything on Hao. He must have given them the slip. I'll send you the files of the consulate staff."

A moment later, her computer indicated new mail. Chuck took only a glance to identify the other two spies.

"Impersonating a police officer is supposed to be a crime, isn't it? And since we're posing as FBI agents, this would be a federal crime…" Chuck commented as they approached the restaurant where they would be meeting Browning.

"Yes," Casey, clad in a cheaper suit than those he usually wore, replied.

"Yes?" Chuck, also wearing a cheap suit, said after a moment. "Aren't you supposed to tell me that this is legal and we will be fine?"

Casey snorted. "Welcome to the world of a spy, Bartowski. We do technically illegal things all the time. Hell, Walker's not supposed to do missions on US soil at all, being a CIA spook."

"Uh…"

"He's technically correct," Sarah agreed, "but things are a little more complicated than that. We're working for national security, and our orders cover a lot. We'll be fine."

"Unless someone needs a scapegoat. In that case we get burned," Casey added, and Chuck's relieved smile vanished at once.

"Would they burn me? I mean, with…" He pointed at his temple.

"They'll probably lock you up in a bunker somewhere and throw the key away, then feed you pizza and porn together with pictures to flash at through a slit in the door," Casey said.

"Uh… my friends wouldn't like that. Just saying."

Casey scoffed, but Sarah nodded. "I am certain that this will be on our superiors' minds." The odds of getting burned were rather low considering the amount of influence the Council had. At least for Chuck and whoever he considered a friend. Something Casey might not have considered. Or might not have wanted to consider.

They reached the restaurant, and Sarah checked her own appearance. Cheap deux-piece, matching shoes. She looked like an FBI agent, alright. Then she entered. Browning was waiting at the small bar.

He stood as soon as he spotted them. "Ah… Agent Smith?"

Chuck coughed behind her as she nodded. "Yes. We spoke on the phone. This is my partner, Agent Brown, and he's Agent Baker, an analyst. We have a few questions about the disappearance of your girlfriend."

"You're from the FBI… That means this is a kidnapping case," he said.

"We cannot comment on the exact details, but it's a possible kidnapping case," Sarah said, switching her recorder on. "Was Miss Wang acting differently compared to her normal behaviour before her disappearance?"

"And tell us everything. Her life could depend on it," Casey added with bared teeth. He was the perfect pick for 'bad cop'.

Browning shook his head, struggling to keep his composure, or so it seemed. "She was fine until…" He frowned. "No, she was a little off after her visit to the consulate. The Chinese consulate. We're about to marry, you know, and she wanted to invite her extended family from China, her grandparents had lost contact after the civil war there. But the consulate couldn't help her find them, which was a real downer."

A visit to the consulate, and Chinese agents bugging their room afterwards? Then she disappeared? That sounded like a hasty, botched op. "When was that exactly?" she asked, to confirm the timeline.

"Well, a day after we arrived here…"

California, Los Angeles, Downtown, October 18th, 2007

"She was spooked by the Chinese," Casey said as they walked away from the restaurant. "They must have realised she's engaged to an engineer involved in the development of the F-35 and put pressure on her."

"But kidnapping her?" Sarah shook her head. "That's counter-productive. Kidnapping her ensures that we'll take notice." And they had - which was why Browning was now under police protection. Just in case the Chinese spies wanted to kidnap him.

"They might have silenced her, to protect themselves." Casey smirked. "Wouldn't want their superiors to realise the blunder they made."

Sarah nodded. That would fit.

"So… you think she's dead?" Chuck asked in a rather small voice as they reached Casey's car - a black armoured SUV.

"What's the matter, nerd? Vampires kill people every night, but spies killing one girl is a shock?" Casey scoffed. "Shit happens all the time."

"It's not like that!" Chuck snapped. "I just… are we giving up?"

"'We'?" Casey glanced over his shoulder before starting the engine.

"Yes," Chuck replied with a frown. "This is a mission for all of us, isn't it? And we haven't finished it."

He was right. "We're not done yet," Sarah said. "But it doesn't look good."

California, Los Angeles, Westwood, October 18th, 2007

"I just hate being helpless," Chuck said.

Sarah glanced at him from where she was cleaning her gun. He was lying on the bed in the hotel room and staring at the ceiling. She didn't think he was interested in the shadows cast at the ceiling by the street lights below.

"It's just… it feels like Sunnydale again. A little." He sighed.

"How so?" Sarah asked after a moment.

"People dying and I'm not doing anything to prevent it."

Ah. "You're doing what you can."

"And I can't do anything. Exactly like Sunnydale." She noticed him closing his eyes.

"You're doing good. We might have saved Browning's life," she pointed out.

"Might have." He turned to his side and looked at her. "It's just…" He trailed off. And blinked. He was flashing.

On what? Sarah turned her head. The TV. Chuck was flashing on the report about a… shooting in a real estate firm? Three dead?

"It was Hao. The real estate firm is behind the hauntings. Wanted to force the hotel's owner to sell it to them for their development project. Hao and his men killed them. And they got the address of the other building the form bought for the project - the house next to us. They are on the way to search it." He shook his head.

"They're searching for Wang," Sarah deduced. "She must be there." Or something else important, for which the Chinese were willing to kill. Which meant it couldn't be allowed to fall into their hands.

She called Casey while she reassembled her pistol.

"Are they in the house already?" Casey asked as he met them on the way to the neighbouring house.

"We don't know. No one heard any shots being fired in the firm," Sarah replied.

"So they would be in the building already?" Chuck asked.

"Could have left already," Casey said as he approached the back door. "The lock's been recently oiled."

"Uh…"

"Stay behind us," she told Chuck, drawing her pistol and following Casey into the building - after placing a small wire connected to a bug on the doorframe.

The building was supposed to be empty, waiting to be torn down and replaced. Someone had torn out a lot of the appliances already. Since she couldn't see signs of squatters moving in, it had probably been the new owners. It had left a coat of dust on the floor - which showed fresh footprints leading to the stairs.

"Cellar," Casey whispered.

Sarah nodded - after placing another wire on the front door.

They checked the rooms on the way - all were empty - and made their way downstairs. Another door. And a faded sign: 'Sound Studio'.

"Perfect place for torturing someone," Casey said as he picked the lock. "No sound will be heard outside."

But there wasn't a torture scene inside. Just a studio. And a woman handcuffed to a pipe in one of the recording rooms. Janice Wang. She was staring at them through the large window.

Sarah reached for the handle - this door wasn't locked. "We're here to save you, Miss Wang," she said as soon as she entered. "Who kidnapped you?"

"Some men… I don't know them," Wang stammered as Sarah started to work on the handcuff. "They claimed I was a spy."

"What?" Casey snapped.

"They had microphones in the walls! I discovered them! But they kidnapped me!"

"The Chinese?"

"They didn't speak Chinese," Wang said. "They said I was a spy for the police."

"The real estate guys?" Chuck blurted out.

Sarah refrained from frowning at him. You didn't give someone you were interrogating such information. But Wang looked confused, so her story probably checked out. Now they only had to…

She felt the receiver in her pocket vibrate. The bug she had left at the door. "Someone entered the building upstairs," she whispered.

And it didn't look like the studio had another exit.

Casey sprinted towards the door to the stairs, then stopped. He signed with his hand - someone was coming down. A moment later, he locked the door again.

Sarah unlocked the handcuffs, then pushed Wang towards Chuck. "Stay in here!"

"But…"

She moved past Chuck. "Stay in here," she whispered. "They won't expect us."

At least she hoped that would be the case as she moved into position in the room closest to the studio entrance, facing Casey on the other side. Three versus two - not too bad odds. Especially with surprise on their side.

Seconds passed. With the padded door closed, she couldn't hear the Chinese spies arrive. She clenched her teeth. What if they simply set fire to the building? No, they would want to confirm that Wang was here.

And the door was pushed open towards her. Almost… As soon as her line of sight cleared, she moved, slipping out of the room. The first agent in the door was bringing his pistol to bear on her, but Casey shot him, then grabbed the body and used it as a shield to charge the second. Both went down on the ground, and Sarah nailed the third man with a double-tap to the head.

She aimed at the second, Hao, but he was fighting Casey hand-to-hand, and Sarah couldn't get a shot off without endangering the NSA agent. She had to duck and retreat when several shots were fired by Hao blindly - Casey's hand was on the man's wrist - and ricocheted in the hallway.

She heard a scream behind her - Wang. "Are you hurt?" she yelled.

"No, we're fine!" Chuck answered. "Just scared. She is, I mean."

She moved forward again, just in time to see Casey slam Hao's head against the wall before following up with vicious blows to the stomach. A knee to the chin knocked the enemy agent out.

Casey stood with a toothy grin despite a cut on his forehead and a ruined suit. "That felt good! Let's get him cuffed and into the car before the cops arrive."

"Before the cops… who are you?"

Sarah turned to face Wang, who looked even more scared than when they had discovered her. Before she could answer, though, Chuck beat her to it.

"We're spies, Miss. Good spies."

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, October 18th, 2007

"...Browning and Wang are now in protective custody. Li Hao is on the way to being interrogated. We expect the Chinese government to disavow any knowledge of his actions, of course, but it should still gain us valuable intel about their activities. Good work, team," the director said with a smile.

"Indeed, good work," the general echoed him.

"Thank you."

As soon as the connection was cut, Chuck leaned back in his seat, craning his neck, and sighed. "So, mission accomplished."

"Yes," Sarah confirmed.

"What do we tell Ellie? She'll be wondering why we had to cut our vacation short."

Sarah ignored Casey rolling his eyes. She smiled. "We're not cutting our vacation short. We're going to maintain our cover."

He blinked. "Oh? Do you mean…?"

She nodded. "We're going to Las Vegas for the weekend."

And they would be having fun.