Kaden stood up for the first time, and clapped her hands together. "Okay. Fulcrum. We've dealt with Fulcrum before; this isn't so different, right?" She tapped her chin, while the two men sitting before her regarded her with something between respect, admiration, confusion, and alarm.

Casey grimaced. "They've got an entire agency on us, not to mention several important contacts with skills in specific areas. We have four field agents, and a clumsy, unqualified kid with highly classified secrets inside his head. And he's the one they want."

Bryce froze for a moment, and turned to them. "Well, eventually, yes. But how do you know he's the one whose life is in immediate danger?"

Casey sighed inwardly. "Because, Bryce, ever since you gave him all the secrets, that's how it is. Always has been, and probably always will be."

Bryce was shaking his head, and got up to check the apartment for listening devices. "You know if there are any…insects in here?" he mouthed, using the code word, even though he was barely speaking. Casey nodded, but began searching with him. "We could just re-locate," Bryce mouthed again, but the two other agents shook their heads.

"This is a more secure location, no matter how many spiders we have to kill." Casey picked one from the inside the drop ceiling. "Kaden, care to climb up there and do the honors? There's probably several more up there, and not only are you the lightest, but I know you've always enjoyed the ceilings."

Kaden grinned darkly. "My pleasure." She grabbed hold and swung her legs up, in one fluid movement. Several more "spiders" were dropped from above, and the two men found plenty- really, enough to fill an entire warehouse nicely. Casey's stomach plummeted. It could be expected, but did every square foot of his already cramped living quarters need to have a XMS 74 in it? He'd thought the General trusted him…but she couldn't stop him now.

Bryce stared in horror at the 250 XMS-74's they'd found. They stuffed them in a padded box in the back of Casey's closet, which would buy them a little time. As soon as they were sure the apartment was secure, he began to talk.

"Fulcrum's antics can be a bit different than what you'd expect from a normal agency. For instance, instead of going straight for the package, they might go for the handlers first." He glanced at Casey, and noted the tightening fists as his only reaction. "If they made the agencies an offer they couldn't refuse, your termination order could be closer than you'd ever imagined, Mr. John Casey. It couldn't be a standard operation, due to the involvement with Fulcrum- I'm sure they'd want that to be kept on the down low. The agencies have a new plan, and you're not involved with it."

Casey really, really wanted to hurt Larkin. He wanted to slam him against the wall, and bash his head through the plaster. The words that were coming out of his mouth hit him like a ton of bricks, but he knew Larkin was right. Bryce took the submissive sigh as confirmation that Casey knew he was telling the truth. To be honest, he'd expected a much bigger protest.

"What about the flash Chuck had? The one with false results?" Kaden asked, sitting down next to Casey so she could reassure him. Termination orders were the thing every agent feared most- much, much worse than a death on an assignment. It suggested inadequacy, or failure to obey. And Casey, of all people, had never expected to hear those words. He considered himself an important asset to the government.

Bryce cringed. "There are some…rumors going around." As he paused, he remembered how angry Kaden had gotten when he'd drawn out a piece of information, and Casey didn't seem too happy, either. "Rumors that with extremely advanced technology, waves of information can be sent out to any receiver." At his resistance to say what he intended, Casey assumed the worst.

"And our little buddy Chuck is a receiver?"

Bryce nodded solemnly, and continued. "Fulcrum would have the equipment and ability to send out these waves, pointed directly at Chuck. I don't know what the purpose is- if it's to lead us astray, or him- but whatever it is, we know one thing; the Intersect cannot be trusted."

Casey pulled out his phone. He dialed Walker's number, and swore loudly when it went to voicemail. He had a bad feeling about this. "Walker, this is Casey. Code Orange. There's a possibility we've been compromised. Return to headquarters immediately- and don't let Bartowski out of your sight. Oh- and don't act on any of his flashes." He sighed, and dialed Chuck's number next.

--

"So, you just keep several sets of black clothing in your trunk at all times?" Chuck asked, stuffing his legs into stretchy black pants that were a little on the small side. "Is there an incident which prompted that?"

Sarah smiled at his teasing, and put a knife in the holster in the small of her back. "Not really- I guess I'm just always prepared for this kind of stuff." She slid a gun and a few throwing stars up her tight pant leg, but Chuck grabbed her hand, raising his eyebrows.

"Sarah. Please. This is Morgan we're dealing with, here. He'll be so ecstatic that ninjas are robbing his house, he'll want our autograph."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but put back one of the throwing stars. "It's not Morgan that I'm worried about, Chuck," she admitted, trying to be gentle. She didn't want to worry him more than was necessary. "It's just…the tapes may be intercepted. If anyone found out that a lowly Buy More employee- and no offense, Chuck, you're not lowly- had gotten hold of tapes that might contain information pertaining to the mysterious Intersect, there would be five or six agencies all scrambling to find them." She patted his arm when she found all the blood had drained from his face. "Luckily, I think we're first."

Chuck gulped. There was no way Morgan could deal with that. When Sarah was tying her shoe, he awkwardly slipped a knife up his own sleeve. He wasn't sure what he planned on doing with it, but it made him feel more comfortable.

"I saw that," she whispered, and gave him an approving smile. "I'm glad you're finally grasping the idea of the danger, here, just don't hurt yourself." Chuck would've been more insulted, but he could tell she was just looking out for him. And thus, he decided to take it as a compliment. Sarah was being unusually gentle and kind toward him, these days.

He wasn't complaining. Well, as long as it wasn't Bryce who was causing it.

"By the way, how did you know where Morgan lives?" Chuck asked, and Sarah smiled sheepishly.

"The CIA asked me to check out any locations where you could be found, and any people that would be around you intimately. I mean, as friends, Chuck, don't freak out," Sarah said, laughing, as his face paled at the word intimate. "So, let's just say I've been through here before- and anything you don't know about Morgan, you could find out about in his bedroom." She eyed Chuck. "Of course, I don't think that would be a problem for you."

"Well, at least I'm not obsessive, like Morgan," Chuck countered. "I can't list his favorite thirty flavors of ice cream in reverse order. Maybe, like five, at the most." Sarah grinned beneath her face mask. Chuck struggled with his.

"Never committed a masked, armed robbery before?" Sarah teased, and used the moment as an excuse to touch his face as she helped him pull it down over his head. She couldn't help but to lightly run her fingers through his hair…god, it was so soft…

Chuck shivered in pleasure at her touch, but smiled sadly underneath the black cloth. With his luck, it would all be gone in the morning- that's how these things usually ran. Sarah could take all her liberties at night, in the dark, alone, but when Chuck came forward in the morning, he was faced with a cool rejection. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"Turn off your cell phone," Sarah reminded, and pressed the power button on hers. Chuck suddenly felt a gut feeling, and rather than turn it off, he set the vibrate option, and stuck it in his back pocket. He glanced nervously at Sarah to see if she'd noticed, but she took his glance as anxiousness about their little "mission," rather than something regarding his phone.

"Don't worry. You're right- this is just Morgan we're dealing with, and if he asks for your autograph, you had better turn him down." Chuck guessed she was kidding, since he couldn't see her face, but didn't return a remark. He was suddenly regretting asking to come along.

They crept inside the house, through the sliding door on the porch they'd climbed up on. Sarah had almost giggled while Chuck struggled to noiselessly swing his legs over the railing around the deck, but looked at him in admiration, all the same. She was so proud he felt he was ready for this kind of mission. Who knows? It could open up all new doors, and he could become more of a partner than a charge.

Sarah went first, and drew her gun out as she peeked around the corner. She stole a few steps around until she found the stairs, and Chuck indicated which bedroom was Morgan's. There was a flashing light coming from underneath the door, but the same part of a song- which Chuck later informed her was the Call of Duty theme song- kept replaying, so she guessed he had fallen asleep, probably mid-game.

Chuck quickly pulled open the door, and Sarah's suspicions were confirmed. She grabbed an injection needle out of her sleeve, and stabbed it into Morgan's neck. Chuck had to look away, merely for Morgan's pride.

"Man-- what the--?" he stuttered, before falling back on the pillow, and after he banged his head off of the headboard. Sarah held up the needle for Chuck to see. It was labeled Ketamine. Chuck couldn't help but to wince- Morgan was in for a massive headache, whenever he would wake up, which wouldn't be too soon. Sarah indicated for him to start searching, and Chuck began to go through Morgan's drawers. Luckily, the job wasn't too hard- Sarah had found a package of tapes labeled "Operation: Casey" inside his underwear drawer. Sarah mused that it would've been easier if they had been in any other drawer.

Chuck couldn't help but to give Sarah a high five. He was buoyed at the feeling of success, and he could tell she was proud of him too. The entire operation would've gone smoothly, if they hadn't met another black clad figure on the back porch.

--

An agent sat in an inconspicuous cubicle at headquarters, crunching absentmindedly on a chocolate energy bar. He mused silently on whether it was a rip-off of the five dollars he'd paid for it. Well, whether it was loaded with caffeine or not, it did taste good. He gulped quickly when he realized he'd zoned out, and at the sudden lack of noise, except a light scratching sound, he adjusted the bulky headphones on his ears. With the new devices everyone else was getting, of course he'd been stuck with the crappy old, dinosaur headphones. Some new ear buds would be nice.

But he suddenly realized he was mistaken when the crackling, scratching tone continued. It wasn't his equipment; it was his subjects. He cursed, and grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing Graham's number. He impatiently drummed his fingers on his desk, waiting for his call to be forwarded.

"Director, this is Agent Barrows, reporting from headquarters on subject 964530001, location Los Angeles, California. Code yellow. The listening devices have been disabled, or impaired temporarily." He took another bite of his energy bar to fill the silence on the other line.

Graham finally reacted verbally. "Thank you, Agent Barrows. We will send out a package to investigate. Good work." Barrows smiled as Graham disconnected. He propped his feet up on the desk, and chomped at his energy bar. He was glad he wasn't going to have to catch a flight to L.A. at this hour, even though office work surely had its turn-offs.

The only information he'd been told about his subjects was that the information exchanged would be highly classified and important, and the Director would have private briefings himself with the subject, of which he would be warned of in advance, and the system would be shut down temporarily. He bit his lip, and licked the chocolate off of his fingertips. He pondered on whether to tell the Director they'd had new female company, plus a possible new male member, but decided to let him find it out himself. After all, everyone knew, there were no secrets from superiors.

--

"Chuck- run!" Sarah screeched, and gave the surprised visitor a swift kick to the head. Chuck hesitated, but dropped down underneath the deck. He quickly glanced around at his surroundings, muttering, "Distraction…distraction…distraction…"

Sarah wiped the sweat off her forehead, and the blood off her cheek. Her male opponent had been the first person in a while who she worried might kill her. Well, if a while meant since Lizzie, the pita girl. As she hesitated, in memory of that night, her adversary was able to land a hard punch to her groin, and she felt herself double over. But with Chuck in mind…she came back quickly, and surprised him by tackling him, and pulling his shoulder out of his socket.

The man yowled in agony, but also recovered quickly. However, Sarah had clear leverage, and swung him by his already injured shoulder off the deck completely. And then, she heard a girlish little shriek that she knew hadn't come from a girl. "Chuck," she breathed, and jumped off the railing into the driveway below.

However, it was followed by a loud clang, and Sarah was almost afraid to look. But when she did, it was Chuck who was holding the snow shovel over the bleeding, unconscious man in black. He looked terrified out of his mind, and was panting as he stared at Sarah in shock. "What…did I…did I do that?"

Sarah had never wanted to throw herself in his arms more, but she restrained on account of the motionless, scary guy lying in between them. She settled for taking her ski mask off, and letting him see just how pleased she was with him. There were little tears of laughter and happiness forming at the corners of her eyes, and her grin was from ear to ear. "Good work, Chuck."

At that moment, he felt his phone go off. Sarah cocked her head to the side, and opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted quickly. "It's Casey- I'll put him on speakerphone." As soon as he slid the phone open and the call connected, he heard an angry voice on the other end of the line.

"Bartowski, don't say a word. Just tell Walker to check her damn voicemail." And with that, the line was disconnected. Chuck and Sarah froze a moment, looking at each other in confusion.

"Well…?" Chuck asked, hesitantly, and Sarah flushed. She pulled out her cell, and sure enough, there was a missed call and a new voicemail.

" Walker, this is Casey. Code Orange. There's a possibility we've been compromised. Return to headquarters immediately- and don't let Bartowski out of your sight. Oh, and don't act on any of his flashes." Sarah's face paled, and they ran to the Porsche as fast as they could, with Sarah arriving about ten seconds before a winded Chuck.

He panted, and flung the seatbelt across his body. Sarah didn't bother to buckle hers- she simply slammed her foot on the pedal, going full speed in reverse. Chuck gasped, and his head hit the back of the seat as they zoomed, 160 miles per hour, backwards. The speedometer pushed up against the upper limit, actually hitting the higher side. Chuck made the sign of the cross, and just decided to be happy it wasn't the Nerd Herder that Sarah was driving. He made a mental note to take the keys from her, next time.

"Don't you think this is a little dramatic?" he asked, quivering, and Sarah answered with her eyes on the road, her full concentration occupied.

"If we have been compromised, anything less dramatic would be understated," she growled, and Chuck's eyes popped open. He decided not to mention how much she'd just sounded like Casey, but he didn't really need to. Sarah already knew, and was cursing herself for it.

"Do you think it would be a good idea to take in that guy we left unconscious in Morgan's backyard?" Chuck suggested, hoping it wasn't late enough to make Sarah angry.

Too late.

She swore loudly, and started to fly forward even faster than she'd been going backwards. Chuck instantly regretted his words, and sighed softly as she warned him, "Hold on, Chuck. Most racecar drivers don't go this fast, and their cars have better safety restraints."

"Just be careful," he warned, breathlessly. But he could tell Sarah had heard- her hard expression softened for just a moment. Only for a moment, then the moment's gone.

She tried to control herself, as she fought with herself in a complete internal struggle. Chuck's trust meant the world to her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to tell him so, and jam her lips up against his. However, the professional instinct massively overwhelmed it, but only in waves. She smiled a moment, and realized her hands on the steering wheel were so tense that her knuckles were as white as Chuck's face. She just hoped he didn't suffer from motion sickness, since Dramamine was one thing she didn't keep in her usually over-prepared car. It was a shame, since it would probably be more useful with her driving than the rocket launcher hidden in the false bottom of the trunk. But she'd find a use for that, eventually.

Her car hit the curb, and she concentrated all of her energy on driving, remembering the consequences if she let herself drift off again. In short, her life- and more importantly, Chuck's.

--

"There's a chance the mission has been compromised," Director Graham reported to two figures on a screen in his office, against a dimly lit background. One of them was General Beckman, and the other's features were indiscernible.

"Well then, I think it's high time we brief Major Casey and Agent Walker on their last mission," the dark figure commented, authority in his voice. The vein popped out in Director Graham's neck at being spoken down to, but he calmly collected himself. After all, for what would hopefully be a short time, the other man was technically in charge. He nodded, hoping his slip in demeanor hadn't been caught.

"A disc will be placed in the reach of the agents and the Intersect," Beckman explained, emotionless as usual. "It will contain all information regarding the situation, as part of the new honor code." Beckman couldn't hold back a frown. The code required a full explanation to be provided to any agents in the process of termination. There was a greater chance they would run, but it wasn't likely they would get far, with all available and compliant agents in the L.A. area. Most of them hadn't been informed what they were doing there yet, but were stationed, nonetheless.

Beckman had to admit, losing Major Casey would be a loss to the NSA itself. He was excellent at quick jobs, and while his methods may provoke a certain amount of disapproval, she had always approved. She had kept her eye on him as he quickly rose through the ranks, knowing he would be one of their success stories. Such a shame he'd had to land himself on that particular assignment.

The dark man in black clasped his hands together. "The disc will be transported to the receivers via a secure shipping system, and will arrive in less than twelve hours. It will set off an alarm upon opening, and you are instructed to disallow any calls or other forms of contact after the alarm has been activated. Is that clear?" He looked intensely into Graham's eyes, who responded with a cold, calculating stare.

"Of course." Before he could lose his composure, Graham cut off the connection, and sat back in his chair to simmer down. Having Fulcrum in charge was never what he'd planned, and he still felt uneasy. However, after the change had taken place and their mission was completed, the dark organization promised they'd retreat off into the shadows, never to bother the agencies again.

The Director could only hope they'd keep their promise.

A/N: Please, just keep with me here. My knowledge in the area of high tech stuff is basically nil, and everything I've learned, I've learned off of Chuck. So, at the moment, I'm just gonna take the rule that anything goes. Don't be surprised if some aliens turn up... just kidding. But-- no offense to any aliens out there reading this.