Chuck vs. the Con
Chapter 11 – "Let the Games Begin"
CAST (in order of appearance):
Devon Woodcomb – Ryan McPartlin
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi
John Casey – Adam Baldwin
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski
Jill Roberts – Jordana Brewster
Yoshiro Matsuki – James Kyson Lee
Deborah Goldman – Bar Refaeli
Roan Montgomery – John Larroquette
It turned out to be somewhat harder to assemble the rest of the team than Chuck thought. After Jill came onboard, things ground to a screeching halt. Bryce and Carina were both unavailable. As a result, their places on the team were taken by Roan Montgomery's two protectors – Deborah Goldman and Yoshiro Matsuki.
And then, when it came to medical doctors, there was no way that Chuck was going to be able to drag both Ellie and Devon into something like this so close to Thanksgiving. Ellie was having a gigantic spazgasm as a result of the impending arrival of Woody and Honey Woodcomb, and the idea of pulling her away from her preparations was something that Chuck didn't think that even the Unabomber would be wise to attempt.
Devon, on the other hand…
Los Angeles, California
Five Days till Thanksgiving
8:00 AM
Devon Woodcomb was exhausted. He had just pulled a triple-shift at the hospital, and hadn't seen his fiancée… his shower… his bed… in twenty-four hours. He was hoping to see all three, in that order – and if the first wanted to join him in the second and the third, then so much the better.
Ordinarily, he would've considered it AWESOME, even in his head – but the fact was, he was so tired that he couldn't even come up with an awesome for that. He was so far beyond comprehending anything at all that he didn't even notice Chuck calling his name from the door of John Casey's apartment. It took Casey crossing the courtyard and physically grabbing Devon by the arm to get his attention.
"Morning, Devon," John Casey said, gently steering the doctor off of his trajectory toward the door to Casa Bartowski and redirecting him toward his own apartment. Devon looked at Casey in confusion, and the confusion grew even deeper as he saw Chuck standing in the door to Casey's apartment.
"Chuck?" Devon asked tiredly. "What the hell is going on here?"
Chuck sighed. "There are some things that you need to know, Devon," he replied. "You need to sit down."
As he sank down into the over-stuffed armchair, Devon looked around, and despite his weariness, realized that Casey's apartment was a veritable beehive of activity. Sarah Walker was sitting on the couch opposite him. A brunette who looked vaguely familiar sat next to Sarah. An Asian man was perched on the breakfast bar, and behind him, a rather attractive blonde was moving about, and from the smell, was making a pot of coffee.
"Guys," he said, "again, what's going on?"
"Devon," Sarah said, "what I'm about to tell you, you absolutely cannot tell Ellie. You can't tell anybody. Do you understand?"
Devon frowned. "What exactly would you tell me that I can't tell Ellie?" He turned and looked at Chuck. "And what are you doing involved with something you can't tell your own sister about?"
Chuck sighed. "I work for the government, Devon. I'm part of a classified computer development program."
"What?" Now Devon looked confused. "I… so… Sarah?"
"I'm part of it too, Devon," she replied, "and so is John. Chuck is actually the key player in the whole thing."
Devon looked from Sarah to Casey to Chuck. "So… you're not actually a loser who works at the Buy More?"
Chuck frowned. "Loser? Uh, no. That's just, um, a cover."
Devon's eyes widened – and then, a grin spread across his face. "Dude… AWESOME!" With that, his hand went airborne, in position for a high five.
A weak laugh made its way out of Chuck, and he returned the high five. "I can't believe it," Devon said. "I have James Bond living in my apartment!"
"Not quite," Chuck sighed. "Besides, he works for MI-6. I work for the CIA."
"Same thing, different governments," Devon replied with a shrug. Behind him, John Casey sighed and rolled his eyes.
But then – "Wait a second," Devon said, his gaze turning back toward Sarah and turning into a glare. "You said you work for them, Sarah. So, what does that mean for you and Chuck? Was that all a ruse? A, I don't know, a 'cover'?"
Chuck looked at Devon – and then looked over at Sarah, a look of interest on his face. Moment of truth, Sarah, he thought, as he watched her turn bright red.
"Uh, I, uh, I really, well… it's… complicated?" she offered weakly.
"Suuuure," Devon drawled. "You can say whatever you want, but the blood rushing to your face as a reaction to being called out on your situation doesn't lie." He leaned toward the CIA agent and grinned. "You want him bad, don't you?"
Sarah's eyes widened, and a look of panic spread across her face. She turned toward Chuck, and he could read the unspoken entreaty on her face – HELP.
"Devon," Chuck said, stepping in, "anything outside the bounds of the mission is strictly between me and Sarah. We have other, somewhat more important things to talk about right now."
Devon looked from Chuck to Sarah, and back again, the look on his face showing that he wasn't sure whether or not to believe his brother-in-law-to-be. "Alright," he finally said, and Sarah let out her breath in relief. "What's going on?"
"We have to stop a group of terrorists from getting their hands on some anthrax," Sarah said. "This is actually a mission that's being carried out by a private citizen, with support from the government. We've got most of the necessary personnel – a front man, drivers, muscle, even our own biochemist – Dr. Jill Roberts."
She indicated the brunette sitting next to her on the couch. "Jill Roberts," Devon mused. "I know that name."
"Not now, Devon," Chuck muttered.
"No, dude, I know that – yeah! Jill the bitch! The one who dumped you!"
Chuck sighed and turned away from Devon. "I knew we should've waited till after he'd gotten some sleep," he grumbled.
"We need to get him in now," Casey shot back. "The hijacking is supposed to be happening tomorrow."
Meanwhile, Jill had turned a very frosty glare on Devon. "I will have you know, I am NOT a bitch," she growled. "I was manipulated. It wasn't my fault."
"Please," Devon retorted. "Thanks to you, Chuck spent five years of his life pretending he was Howard Hughes."
"Dude!" Chuck yelled, turning back toward Devon. "Seriously. Loser? Howard Hughes? Here I always thought you had some modicum of respect for me!"
"I do, Chuck!" Devon shot back, turning around. "It's just, now, knowing that you work for the CIA? I mean, seriously, the guy I thought you were seems like a total schmuck in comparison to who you actually are!"
"Oh," Chuck said, slightly taken aback. "Well… uh, thanks, I guess."
Devon nodded, then turned back toward Jill. "Not cool," he said, pointing at her.
"Devon!" Sarah snapped. "Focus!"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
Sarah sighed. "Anyway. Tomorrow afternoon, two armored trucks will arrive at the Wettaw Biochemistry Center at Northern Arizona University to take possession of the anthrax samples. We will be… diverting the shipment. We need a medical doctor, just in case. That's where you come in."
Devon frowned, looking from Sarah to Chuck. "Seriously?"
Chuck nodded. "You're a cardiothoracic surgeon," Chuck replied. "That's pretty much ideal for the types of injuries that can occur on a mission like this."
"Um…" Devon sighed, and his head dropped. "Wow. Uh, you think I can sleep on this?"
"Depends on how long you're planning to sleep for," Casey said. "We need an answer… stat, as you might say."
"This afternoon?" Devon turned and looked up at the NSA agent. "Dude, I haven't slept since yesterday morning. I can't think straight right now."
"That'll be fine, Devon," Sarah interjected, before Casey could get grumpy. "But we need to know as soon as possible, all right?"
"Yeah," Devon said, suddenly feeling very tired again. "Um, see you guys later?"
"Later, Devon," Chuck said, as Sarah nodded. Devon picked himself up out of the chair, and headed to the door –
Which was opened just before he reached it. The man standing on the stoop looked in at Devon, and a look of amazement crossed his face. "Devon, my boy!" he boomed. "Is that you?"
Devon's eyes went wide as saucers, and his jaw dropped. "UNCLE ROAN?!"
"Wait, WHAT?!" Chuck gasped. "What do you mean, 'Uncle Roan'?!"
Devon turned back toward Chuck, an astonished look on his face. "Uh, Roan Montgomery," he replied weakly, pointing at the retired spy. "He's, uh, he's my mom's brother."
Chuck looked from Devon to Sarah to Casey. "Oh, joy."
Roan Montgomery had been left to explain the particulars of the mission to his nephew, who had decided to join in after running into his uncle. Chuck, meanwhile, had decided to retreat to his bedroom – someplace he had spent decidedly far too little time lately.
As he lay on his bed, his open copy of Watchmen covering his face, Chuck heard a faint tap on the Morgan Door. "It's open," he called, his voice muffled by the graphic novel.
He heard the window slide open, and then heard somebody climb up and through. He didn't say anything – the very faint scent of the body wash that Sarah Walker always used carried across the room to him.
She also didn't say anything, although he felt the bed shift as she sat down on the edge. With a sigh, Chuck pulled the book off his face. "Hey," he said.
Sarah turned to look at him. "Hey," she replied, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.
"Look," Chuck began, taking a deep breath. "I don't know how to keep doing this. It seems like every time we start to connect on more than a professional level, one of us freaks out and runs, and no offense, but it's you way more than it is me." He stopped and looked Sarah in the eyes. "And then, you do something like your little stunt in Palo Alto. Showing up at the wine bar, disabling Jill's car – what was that all about?"
A blush slowly began to make its way up the back of Sarah's neck. "I… don't really know," she admitted quietly. "It wasn't tactically necessary for me to do either. In fact, the more I think about it, it probably would've been easier for you to get her involved if I had just stayed uninvolved."
Chuck studied Sarah for a moment. "Can I ask you something – it's not about your past, it's about right here, right now – and you'll answer honestly?"
Sarah bit her lip. "I'll do my best," she replied quietly.
Chuck nodded. Her best would have to do. "Did you get involved because of your feelings for me?"
Sarah locked eyes with Chuck again. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean," Chuck replied, the barest of smiles beginning to make its way onto his face, "is, were you acting out of jealousy, Sarah Walker?"
She was silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she muttered, "I suppose it's possible."
Chuck's smile got even bigger. "So every time you say that it's just a cover, that we have to be professional, you're kind of full of it?"
He had Sarah in a corner, and she knew it. At this point, she had only two options, and neither of them were particularly appealing. On the one hand, she could deny everything Chuck had just said, and put even more distance between them. On the other hand, she could simply eliminate that distance, and risk not only getting into serious trouble, but seeing their relationship turn into a disaster and destroy the friendship she had.
And yet, the potential positives of the second option far outweighed the positives of the first. So Sarah Walker decided to simply eliminate the distance.
"Yeah," she said with a nod, a smile appearing on her face. "Completely full of it."
The smile on Chuck's face turned into a full-blown grin. "See, I knew it," he replied. "I'm just that good, huh?"
Unfortunately for Chuck, there was a throw pillow sitting on the floor by the foot of his bed. In one fluid motion, Sarah leaned down, lifted the pillow, and flung it at Chuck. He yelped and ducked, and as he did so, Sarah leapt for the kill.
"GAH! HAVE MERCY!" Chuck whimpered as Sarah's fingertips dug into his extremely ticklish side.
"Mercy?" she giggled. "A moment ago, you were saying you were just that good. What happened, Mr. Bartowski?"
But instead of replying verbally, Chuck made a bold move – he reached up the hand that wasn't trying to ward off Sarah's tickling attack, placed it behind the back of her neck, and pulled her down to him. The tickling stopped immediately, and her eyes closed involuntarily –
Only for her to realize that Chuck wasn't kissing her. His face was less than an inch from hers, but he was very deliberately not making contact with her.
Slowly, her eyes flickered open again. "Chuck?"
He looked back at her, his eyes boring deep into hers. "What changed?" he whispered. "What made you decide to give in?"
She looked back at him, realizing just how heavily she was breathing. "Jill," she finally replied. "She gave me an ultimatum. Confess how I feel about you, or she was going to make a move."
Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he asked, smiling. "Jill got you to do this?"
"Yeah, something like that," Sarah replied. "But it WAS my decision."
"Is that so, Agent Walker," Chuck said, VERY slowly starting to do his ridiculous Bartowski eyebrow dance. "So, how exactly DO you feel about me?"
Sarah's breath caught in her throat. How did she feel about him. "I… uh, I, uh, l… uh, I lo… oh, screw it."
Though words failed her, her actions did not, as she brought her hands up to the sides of Chuck's face, and pulled him the rest of the way to her. Her lips met his almost like two magnets attracted to one another. She felt his mouth part slightly, and the bare contact of his tongue against her lips was like an electric shock. A tiny moan ran through her as her own lips parted –
"Ah-HA!" Roan Montgomery exclaimed, the door to Chuck's bedroom crashing open. Sarah was so startled that she jumped off of Chuck – and fell directly to the floor.
She peeked up over the edge of Chuck's bed, as Chuck turned to look at Roan Montgomery and Devon Woodcomb, both looking at the two of them with far too smug looks on their faces. "You see, I knew there was something about these two the first time I met them," Montgomery explained to his nephew. "They worked far too well together."
An angry look appeared on Chuck's face. "Could you two please LEAVE for a moment?"
Montgomery held up his hands in surrender. "But of course, Charles," he replied, backing toward the door. "Devon, shall we?"
Sarah bit her lip and held her breath as the door swung shut – but once the latch clicked, she couldn't hold back any longer. It came out as giggles at first, but before long, she was leaning against the bed, laughing hysterically.
"I don't understand," Chuck said, looking at her in disbelief. "What's so damn funny?"
Sarah shook her head. "How about the fact that I'm in love with you?"
Chuck's eyes practically popped out of his head and his jaw dropped. "I'm – uh, do who with the what now?!"
"Just lock the door," Sarah instructed. Chuck moved with surprising alacrity to do just that, as Sarah crawled onto the bed. "Now," Sarah asked, "where were we?"
Chuck grinned. "Right about… here."
The Fulcrum agent sighed as the binoculars dropped, a disgusted roll of the eyes and a smirk evidence to the ridiculousness of the situation. A hand went into a pocket, and a cell phone came back out.
"Yes, sir. This is Pegasus."
Silence. "No, sir. Walker and Bartowski appear to be… um… rather involved."
More silence. "Yes, sir. I'll attempt to make sure that no harm comes to her. Yes, sir, I understand."
The agent sighed, hanging up the phone. "Too bad for you, Chuck Bartowski. Should've never tried to double-cross the Mob."