Building Rome 13/?
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: Nine months after making the decision that changed his life, Chuck is coping with an Intersect that is a work-in-progress. Sarah is learning how to balance her spy life and her personal life for the first time. But when the first rule of spying is never fall in love, how will their relationship stand the pressure? Sequel to Discovering Omaha.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: If you thought the last chapter was short on plot, that's not something you can say about this chapter, or the next few ones. Hope you enjoy!
XXX
By the time they had walked into the kitchen, Casey already had a pot of coffee half-brewed and was pulling some toast from the ancient toaster. Somehow, he had managed to not burn the toast, unlike Chuck on every other morning while in the safe house.
Casey grunted softly when he saw them; Chuck sensed that his eagle eyes had immediately taken in their joined hands.
"Good morning, Casey. Sorry that you found out about us like . . . you know," he said, taking a seat at the beat-up table and hoping his ears hadn't turned beet-red.
"Too bad I can't tell anyone-it'd be a hell of a story," Casey said, plopping down the toast.
"Is that right?" Sarah asked, sounding equal parts vulnerable and amused.
"The CIA's version of the nerd getting the prom queen? Hell, yeah, it's a good story," Casey said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Not that I care what you two get up to, as long as I don't hafta see it and it doesn't affect the job." He looked at them as he sipped his coffee. "Remember this the next time you get hot under the collar about the good of the team, too."
Sarah looked sheepish as she nodded. "Understood." She got up and poured coffee for herself and Chuck. "So what brings you here, Casey?"
And just like that, everything was settled, Chuck marveled as he added sugar to his coffee.
"Sent word yesterday that Fulcrum seems to be bugging out, so it's safe for you two to head back to L.A. And I've got a lead on Bartowski's dad."
Chuck nearly choked on his sip of coffee. "You do? Where? Do you trust the info?"
"Easy there," Casey said. "By the time we get back to the office, I should have confirmation on it. So pack up your stuff and we can hit the road."
"Good," Sarah said, draining her coffee and finishing her toast as she stood up. "It'll only take us a few minutes to get ready."
"Right," Chuck said, taking a large bite of his toast, washing it down with the last of his coffee. "Thanks for breakfast, Casey."
The NSA agent shrugged. "I'll get your car ready. I hope you two weren't too busy to get the car under cover."
He did his best not to blush. "Yeah, we moved it into the shed out back after we arrived."
Casey nodded and headed for the front door. "You've got ten minutes, then we're moving."
As he cleaned up, Chuck's mind juggled a multitude of thoughts. He hoped Casey's lead would pan out, so they could rescue his father and make sure Stephen was okay. He was a little worried about Casey and how the team dynamics would work from here on out, now that Casey knew officially about them. And that thought made Chuck smile, feeling a bit goofy. After all this time, Sarah was willing to have their relationship out in the open. He hadn't realized just how good it would feel, to know that nothing was hidden or secretive anymore.
He grinned as he remembered last night and how good it had felt to be with Sarah, especially after telling her he loved her. It was all he could do not to shout it from the rooftops-and he didn't know what thrilled him more: the fact that he loved her or that she loved him back.
"Watch out, Fulcrum," he said softly as he surveyed the bedroom, making sure it was returned to the condition they had found it. "Chuck Bartowski is after you."
XXX
Even though Chuck was a bit regretful to leave the site of so many good memories, he was ready to leave the safe house and head back to Los Angeles. The three of them stopped at their apartments just long enough for showers and a change of clothes. Each of them would then drive to the office and review Casey's data about where Orion might be held.
While he was in his apartment, Chuck had noticed the calendar hanging on the wall, still set to last month. He flipped the page and realized, to his shock, that Ellie and Devon's wedding would be happening next weekend. After coming so close to helping Ellie have the perfect wedding, he'd let his father get captured by Fulcrum. Chuck set his jaw as he gazed at the circled date. He wasn't going to let Ellie down like this. And he wouldn't let his father be in danger any longer.
Saving his father would start with Casey's tip. He listened closely as the NSA agent explained what he had been working on while Chuck and Sarah had been in the safe house.
"Best as we can tell, Fulcrum's got some kind of underground base out in the desert. That's where they've got their Intersect, now that Meadow Branch isn't an option anymore." Casey gave them a small smirk, acknowledging what the three of them had done on their mission to the suburbs. But his smirk faded and his voice sounded grumpy as he continued. "We don't know where it is exactly-satellite imaging has only narrowed it down to a five-mile area."
"Let me see the satellite maps," Chuck said, holding out his hand. "Perhaps the Intersect has something."
Casey nodded and handed them over. "Orion's being held at the base, probably working on fixin' Fulcrum's Intersect. We don't know how cooperative he's been."
Chuck exchanged looks with Sarah but didn't argue with Casey. There wasn't time to speculate on whether his father was helping Fulcrum or not, even though Chuck couldn't believe that Stephen Bartowski would help terrorists. Especially ones that had allied themselves with his enemy Ted Roark.
Leaning over the maps, Chuck concentrated as hard as he could, examining every inch of the photos. He sighed as nothing happened-no flashes, no intel. What could he do now? If they searched the whole area, it'd take days. They needed someplace to start looking.
Suddenly, he remembered the keypad at Roark Instruments, the one that he had willed himself to flash on at his father's encouragement. Perhaps he could do it again. This would be a bit harder to focus on, but if he could do this . . .
He grabbed a grease pencil and went over the maps, circling anything he wanted to try flashing on. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sarah glancing over at him, watching him and probably wondering what he was doing. He gave her a quick smile. "Have an idea."
She nodded and smiled back at him before turning back to her research. Her show of support gave him a boost as he systematically went over each circle. He gazed closely at each area while trying to find the switch that would spark a flash.
On the sixth circle, he got something off a scattered collection of structures he couldn't quite identify until the flash.
Dancing popcorn-the mushroom cloud from an atomic explosion-the Intersect room-a sign that said Starbright Drive-in-a computer motherboard-a glowing cube-dancing popcorn
Chuck breathed hard as he slowly opened his eyes. Both Sarah and Casey were staring at him. "Chuck? Did you flash?" Sarah asked, sounding surprised.
He nodded. "Yeah-my dad showed me a little trick with the Intersect." He pushed the map to the middle of the table and pointed to the spot he had flashed on. "This, right here? It's a drive-in movie theater. I think the Fulcrum base is underneath the theater." He paused and grinned. "Just like in Spies Like Us."
Sarah gave him a blank look and Casey grunted. "You really think Fulcrum would be dumb enough to imitate some movie?"
"No, I was just saying-whatever," Chuck said, choosing to forgo the film trivia and focus on the mission. "We should look there."
"It's a place to start," Sarah said. "And it's well-positioned. Look how close it is to the major roads. If I was going to have a secret base, I'd put it someplace like that." She got up. "I'll start gathering what we need for infiltrating the base."
"I'm going to narrow the satellite imaging, try to get more info about the surrounding area," Chuck said. "Do a thermal reading, too. If there's an underground base, there's got to be a lot of heat getting thrown off that shouldn't be there."
Casey shrugged. "I'll call it in." He turned towards the video monitors.
Chuck nodded, then paused as a thought occurred to him. Something he should have asked about before now. "Casey? Did you tell Director Graham and General Beckman that Orion is my father?"
"Couldn't be helped, Bartowski," Casey said, looking at him.
He frowned but nodded. "I understand, Casey," he said. "How did they take it?"
"About like you expect," Casey said. "Shock at the connection between you two and royally pissed that they didn't know about it. Because they couldn't exploit the fact that you're Orion's son and the Intersect."
Chuck let out a soft snort. "Yeah, I hear you."
Casey grunted, in a faintly approving manner, before he brought up the video feed to Beckman and Graham's offices.
Within an hour, they had detailed maps of the area surrounding the Starbright Drive-in, approval to infiltrate the possible base and a strike team to support them. They had also learned that they needed to move fast: increased traffic had been noticed towards the drive-in. There wasn't a moment to waste.
The rendezvous point was a truck stop ten miles away from the drive-in. Chuck felt edgy as he listened to Casey and Sarah instruct the strike team. He knew that preparation was key for any operation, but he wanted to be moving. The sooner they started, the sooner they could have his father back.
Sarah walked over to him as the briefing concluded and everyone scattered to the vans. She reached out and took his hand. He squeezed it tightly. "Are we all set?" he asked her, knowing that they were but needing the reassurance.
She smiled softly at him. "Yeah. Everyone knows what they're doing." She looked at him, growing serious. "If we're right and this is Fulcrum's base and if your dad is there, we'll find him, Chuck. We won't leave without him."
He gazed at her. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I know that's a lot of ifs, but I think you found it."
"Here's hoping," he said. He saw Casey look over at them as he climbed into the van and Chuck took a breath. "How about a kiss for luck?" he asked Sarah, giving her a small smile.
"I can manage that," she said with a grin, leaning up and kissing his cheek.
"That's it?"
Her grin morphed into a smile that was downright impish. "You'll get something better later. Come on, it's time to move." She tugged on his hand and lead him over the van, climbing into the back. Chuck followed her and took a seat next to her. Sarah nodded to Casey and he grunted before starting up the van.
Chuck took a few deep breaths. He had been nervous while they were waiting. But now that they were on their way, what he was feeling was approaching full terror. His bantering conversation with Sarah had helped a little, but even with her good-luck kiss and her hand in his, he couldn't stop his mind from coming up with a hundred different outcomes, all bad. He'd been on dozens of missions up to this point, but no mission had ever felt as important as this one.
If he was right, in a few short hours they'd hopefully have his father rescued. Fulcrum would lose their best chance at creating their own Intersect and Stephen would be able to attend his only daughter's wedding. But only if Chuck was right.
Turning his head to look out the window at the darkened landscape, Chuck concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm down and find some balance as they drove towards the Starbright Drive-In.
XXX
Fulcrum might have plenty of terrorists, but apparently they weren't imaginative people. When they arrived at the Starbright Drive-in, it didn't take Chuck long to spot the entrance to the hidden base. Thanks to the thermal mapping he had done, the dilapidated-looking snack stand was the most likely entrance to the base. He felt encouraged when inside the building, a large metal hatch revealed a ladder that disappeared into the darkness.
As silently as possible, Chuck and Sarah lead half the strike team into the base, with Casey bringing up the rear. The rest of the team would wait on the surface and cover the exit until they were ready to leave.
Without any maps and little data, they were going into the base almost blind. Chuck gripped his flashlight and his gun, trying to stay calm and focused. Although he'd prefer using a tranq gun, he knew these weren't the right conditions for such a weapon. He just hoped he wouldn't have to shoot anyone-and he was thankful that Sarah was a better shot and quicker to the trigger than he was. Fortunately, as they moved through the corridors, they encountered little resistance from Fulcrum. Chuck wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth.
Chuck had a rough idea of where his father might be, based on a large heat signature in the center of the complex. That much heat could be a lot of people or a lot of electronics equipment. When they started getting close to the possible location, it was all he could do not to let his gun and flashlight tremble. If he was wrong, he had brought several agents into an enemy base without any guarantees that they would find their target. It was incredibly risky. He hoped the risks would be rewarded.
Sarah paused at a doorway, glancing at him. She reached out and rested her hand on his arm for a moment, then nodded to the door.
He took a deep breath, savoring her support before he looked at the door. The large electronic lock was a good sign that they were at the right place. He quickly holstered his gun and put his flashlight in his mouth, putting extra light on the lock as he pulled out an electronic lockpick and started working on unlocking the door.
Behind him, he could vaguely sense Sarah silently directing the team to do something. He focused on the lock, wishing there was a way to do this faster. Tangentially, he thought about how he could improve the device as he waited for it to work.
Finally, finally, the keypad flashed green and there was a soft click as the lock disengaged. He straightened up, putting away the lockpick and taking the flashlight out of his mouth. Chuck looked over his shoulder at Sarah, who nodded at him and lifted her gun. They were now alone; Chuck guessed that Sarah had sent Casey and the team to reconnoiter.
He shouldn't delay. Fulcrum could be showing up at any moment and they didn't even know if this was the right room. So he swallowed and pushed open the door, stepping inside a dimly-lit room.
It was a large, cavernous space. The ceiling receded into the darkness and the tall shelves that lined the walls made him think of the warehouse from Raiders of the Lost Ark. In the center of the room was a long table and a beat-up desk, covered in electronics, a soldering iron and other tools. His attention was immediately drawn to a glowing cube about the size of a basketball. It was spinning inside some kind of protective cylinder, throwing a gentle light around the workspace. But the room was otherwise so dark that it took him a moment to notice who else was in the room.
"Dad!" he said, hurrying over to Stephen. His father was hunched over a computer, pecking away at the keyboard while juggling a large printout and two pencils. He apparently hadn't noticed anyone had come into the room.
Chuck shook Stephen's shoulder, pulling him out of his fog. "Dad, come on, we're going."
Stephen blinked. "Chuck?" Then his eyes widened and he got up, folding up his printouts. "Yes, time to go!" He approached the worktable and lifted the cylinder up. "Grab that blanket from there," Stephen said, pointing towards a cot in the corner.
"Right," Chuck said, glancing over at Sarah who was guarding the door. "We've got to move." He snatched up the blanket and put it down for his father.
"One second . . ." Stephen said, carefully lifting up the cube and setting it on the blanket. He wrapped the blanket around the item, cradling it like a swaddled baby.
"Sarah, are we clear?" Chuck said, leading his father over towards the door.
She nodded. "Yeah, looks good." She spoke into her watch's microphone. "We have Orion. Proceeding to the exit now."
"Copy," came Casey's voice through Chuck's earpiece. "Move fast, Fulcrum's woken up."
Chuck quickly pulled his gun from its holster and turned his flashlight back on. "I'll go first. Dad, follow me."
Stephen looked equal parts horrified and shocked. "Chuck, you have a gun."
"I'm a spy, Dad-of course I have a gun," he said absent-mindedly as he checked the corridor. He didn't quite know what his father was expecting, but this definitely wasn't the time to get into that discussion. Not when the sound of gunshots were starting to become louder.
"Go, Chuck-I'll be right behind you," Sarah said.
He nodded and stepped out into the corridor, then gestured to his father. "Let's go."
His father eased out into the hallway, looking nervous. Chuck gave his best encouraging smile to Stephen and started hurrying, his mind focused on getting his father out of here.
The three of them moved through the maze of corridors, getting closer and closer to the exit. He could still hear fighting, but it was getting fainter. Chuck felt his spirits rise when he realized they only had a few hundred feet to go. His father had picked up his pace, getting ahead of Chuck. He thought about saying something, but instead he took a few extra steps, opening up a bigger gap between himself and Sarah. Just as he walked past a set of double doors, there was a loud boom and everything started shaking.
He was nearly knocked off his feet but managed to keep his balance. The hallway lights flickered off and Chuck coughed, fighting to breathe through a cloud of dust. He swept his flashlight around and found his father almost immediately.
"Dad!" Chuck yelled through the ringing in his ears. "Are you okay?"
His father coughed but gave him a thumbs-up. Chuck nodded, then looked around for Sarah. Just behind them, part of the corridor had buckled inward and the doors were blown off their hinges. It might be possible to get past the blockage, but it would take time. He didn't have time-but Sarah was on the other side.
"Sarah!" he shouted, feeling a stab of worry. Was she all right? What if she was hurt? "Sarah!"
His hearing was starting to return and he could hear movement. Then there was a flash of light and he saw Sarah's face through a gap in the debris. The space was only big enough for him to see her dirt-smudged face.
"Sarah," he said, hearing the relief in his voice. "Are you okay?"
She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine, just a little shaken up," she said. "How are you?"
"We're both fine," Chuck said, glancing back at Stephen before returning his attention to Sarah. "How are you going to get out?"
"I'll double back and meet up with Casey. There's got to be another way out of here-they must have tapped our comms and knew we were going this way." She coughed. "Get your father out."
Chuck swallowed. "You're really okay?"
Sarah gave him a quick smile. "I'm okay. I wish I had given you a real kiss now, if this is all the luck a cheek kiss gets me."
If she was joking with him, she was okay or she was hurt and trying to reassure him. Either way, he couldn't get to her and he needed to get his father to safety. And Sarah knew that just as well as he did. Even though he wanted to drop everything and rescue her, he couldn't. He suddenly had a better understanding for how Sarah had acted in the past, trying to protect him in spite of logic and sense.
"Right," he said, trying to get himself under control. "I'll get Dad out of here and we'll wait in the van."
"No, you'll get the hell out of here," Sarah said, slipping into Agent Walker mode. "We'll be okay. You have to take care of your dad. Now go." She gave him one last look then turned away. He could hear the sound of her boots against the floor for a moment before they faded away.
He pushed down the urge to say her name again and turned towards his father. "Come on, Dad," he said, lifting his gun and flashlight and moving towards the exit.
XXX
Once he had his father inside the van, one that had been hidden apart from the other vehicles, he immediately spoke into his watch. "I've got Orion ready to leave. What's your status?"
The wait for a reply felt like forever. But then there was a crackle and Casey spoke, his voice low and urgent. "Nearly out-get going, Bartowski."
"Casey-"
Sarah's voice broke in. "Chuck, we're out. Go!"
He wasn't sure if he should believe her, but he knew he couldn't question them further. Slamming the van's gear shift into drive, he pressed his foot hard against the accelerator. He glanced over, making sure his father was settled, then lifted his head as he heard something over the comms.
"We're good, Chuck. We're in one of the other vans-we'll meet you back at the office."
Chuck let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Sarah's voice. "That's good news. I'll see you later."
"Understood," Casey said. "Signing off-we're gonna be out of range soon."
"Gotcha." He pulled the earwig out, sliding it into the pocket of his pants. Easing off the accelerator, he looked at Stephen.
"Dad? His father was still holding the cube close, like he was guarding it with his life. When his father didn't react, Chuck spoke again. "Dad? Are you okay?"
"What?" Stephen looked up, his expression startled. "Did you say something?"
"I just want to know if you're okay. You're not hurt, are you?" Chuck asked, glancing over at his father as he drove.
Stephen didn't look like he had any physical injuries from the explosion. He did look exhausted, like he had been kept working for hours without end, but honestly that wasn't that different from how he used to look when he got wrapped up in some project.
"Oh-I'm fine." He ran a hand over his hair and turned to face Chuck. "So . . . so you're really a spy."
There was something indescribable in his father's voice. He could hear so many different emotions: anger, regret, worry, confusion, surprise and maybe even a little bit of pride. Chuck wasn't sure what to say. He could only nod.
"Why? You-you had the best education, the opportunity to work for a major software company and . . . You had your whole life ahead of you, Chuck. Why would you throw it away like this?"
"I didn't throw my life away," Chuck said, hearing the frustration in his voice. How could Stephen think he was wasting his opportunities when he was doing something so important?
He could feel his father's eyes on him. "I just thought you had the Intersect. That you were only a glorified analyst. But you're not. You were always so peaceful, Chuck," his father said. "So kind. How can you do this?"
"I'm still all those things," Chuck said. "I am, Dad. I swear it."
Stephen shook his head. "This isn't what I wanted for you."
"Then what did you want for me, Dad?" Chuck asked, trying not to sound as angry and annoyed as he felt. His father had spent the bulk of Chuck's life not being there, yet now he wanted to condemn him for his choices.
His father shifted in his seat. "I didn't want you to work for the government. To see how dark the world could be." Stephen's voice lowered and Chuck could barely hear his next sentence. "I didn't want you to make the same mistakes I made."
What could he say to that? He could only guess what his father had done that he now considered mistakes. Working for the CIA? Creating the Intersect? Or was it something more personal, like leaving his family?
Chuck swallowed. Searching for Stephen had been about Ellie, he'd always said. He wanted to give his sister some closure. He hadn't wanted to admit that he had so many questions for their dad. Just like his problems with Sarah, he was afraid of finding out the answers. He doubted that the outcome of questioning his dad would go as well as it had with Sarah, but he had to try. He couldn't keep avoiding the questions, not when this might be his only chance to ask them.
"Dad?" He waited until he sensed that he had Stephen's attention. "What mistakes are you talking about?"
Stephen huffed out a laugh. "Where to start?" he said rhetorically. "I'm sure you have an opinion on my mistakes."
"Yeah, you could say that," Chuck agreed. "But I want to know what mistakes you didn't want me to make."
"Trusting the government for one thing," Stephen said, his voice cold. "Thinking that they're looking out for you, that they consider your best interests. How if the Intersect stops working, they'd have anything to do with you."
Hearing his father talk like this was so jarring, considering that his memories were of an absent-minded, kind-hearted man. But at least Chuck knew where he was coming from.
"I don't trust them," Chuck said slowly. "Well, actually, trust isn't the word. I just know that they have their own priorities and if they happen to overlap with mine, then everything's good. But when they don't, then it's me who gets the short end of the stick."
His father nodded slowly. "That's about right." He looked at Chuck. "Have they talked to you about getting a new version of the Intersect?"
Chuck changed lanes and checked his mirrors, realizing he should have been watching for anyone following them. The task gave him a few moments to collect his thoughts. He had so many questions about the Intersect and his father could answer them. But there was also the questions about why his father had left, why he hadn't contacted Ellie or himself. He'd rather deal with the personal issues first, but if Stephen wanted to talk shop and discuss the Intersect, they could start there.
"I was supposed to go to D.C. for the Intersect upgrade after I wrapped my mission at Roark Instruments," Chuck said. "Fulcrum capturing you put that off, though."
"They told you that the upgrade was ready?" Stephen snorted. "Typical. I have the most important part with me, yet they think they're ready."
"What do you mean, Dad?" Chuck asked.
"This," Stephen said, holding up the blanket-wrapped object and pulling away the covering. Chuck did his best not to stare at the cube since he was driving at sixty-five miles per hour.
Stephen had a proud smile on his face. "This is the brains of the Intersect. This is what will make the upgrade happen."
"Oh," he said. He couldn't help frowning a little. Stephen seemed so proud of the Intersect, yet so distrustful of how it was used. To him, if you couldn't trust people to use your creation responsibly, maybe the world wasn't ready for it.
"I told the CIA and NSA that the upgrade couldn't go ahead without this cube. That there was still work to be done." Stephen sounded disgusted. "They knew they needed to wait, but they were so excited to have their new version that they didn't listen to my warnings."
"That sounds like the scientists I've worked with," Chuck said. "They've all treated me like a lab rat."
He wanted to trust his father. To believe that his paranoia was well-founded. And even Chuck had to admit that with everything he'd seen, his father might be right. But he wasn't ready to ascribe ill motives to everything done by the CIA.
"Dad? Could we please talk more about the Intersect? Does it have anything to do with-" Chuck paused and took a deep breath. "Is it why you left us? Why you haven't talked to us in years?"
Stephen hesitated. "It . . . it's a lot to take in, Chuck. It's a long story."
"We've got time," Chuck said, not willing to let his father off the hook.
"I-I just-look, I don't want to talk about this while you're driving. It's not safe," Stephen said.
He nearly snorted at yet another attempt to avoid answering his questions. "Dad . . ."
"There's an exit coming up. We could stop and get some coffee," his father said.
Stephen was trying to meet him halfway. As much as he appreciated the effort, he wasn't sure if his father could come clean with him. But he wanted to give his dad the benefit of the doubt. So Chuck nodded and started looking for the exit.
XXX
Of all the places Chuck thought he'd have a soul-searching conversation with his father, he didn't picture it happening at a brightly-lit truck stop restaurant. But as long as he got some answers, he could care less about the location.
He closed up his phone after sending Sarah and Casey a text message. His father looked at him over the top of his menu, his expression curious.
"Letting my team know we'd be getting back later," Chuck said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
His father nodded. "You're close to them? You work well together?"
"Yeah, we do," Chuck said, shifting a little in surprise at his father's curiosity. "Casey's a bit gruff, but you can depend on him. And Sarah . . ." He could feel himself blushing.
"Ahhh," Stephen said, smiling at Chuck as he lowered his menu. "You and Sarah are-you're involved?"
He nodded, suddenly feeling shy. "Yeah, we are."
The waitress saved him from further embarrassment by coming over to their table, a pot of coffee in her hand. She filled their mugs and pulled out her order pad. "What can I getcha?"
"Scrambled eggs and wheat toast, please," Chuck said, giving the waitress as much of a smile as he could manage.
"I'll have the same," Stephen said, setting aside his menu.
"Be right up," she said with a nod before heading towards the kitchen.
Chuck took a sip of his coffee, then winced and started adding sugar to it. Stephen chuckled but added a little sugar to his own mug. They sat there for a few moments, just sipping their coffee. He knew he should be confronting his father, but it had been so long since it had been just him and his dad. He wanted to enjoy this moment before he had to end it.
But all good things must come to an end, as Q put it in the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Chuck shook his head at thinking of that right now, then squared his shoulders. He kept his voice low as he spoke to his father, looking directly at him. "I think we need to start at the beginning. With the Intersect."
Stephen looked at Chuck for a long moment, then nodded. "I began working on the Intersect decades ago. But it didn't really become practical, didn't become a top project for the CIA, until around September 11th."
As his father spoke, Chuck found himself watching him closely, trying to observe any indicators that he was lying or omitting details. He felt slightly queasy for giving his father the same treatment that terrorists and criminals would get, but he wanted to know the truth. Reassuringly, his father didn't seem to be holding back on him.
"The CIA and NSA rushed to implement the Intersect. I don't know why, but they were very eager to get the Intersect into their candidate: you, as it turned out."
"It . . . it's kinda ironic, isn't it? Me getting the Intersect when you were the one who designed it?" Chuck wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, trying not to fidget.
Stephen shrugged. "There's no way of knowing how long you were on the CIA's radar before you were recruited. And I never thought to check their records for you or Ellie. If I had, I would have flagged you for non-recruitment."
"And why's that, Dad?" he asked, pinning his father in place with his eyes. The more he learned, the more questions he had. It seemed that Stephen had a lot of secrets, but getting him to reveal any of them was proving even harder than Chuck had suspected.
"At least you've done well with the Intersect," Stephen said, changing the subject. "I've seen the reports about what you've achieved." He hesitated, but when he spoke again, the pride in his voice was muted but unmistakable. "You've done more with the Intersect than I thought possible."
"I have?" Chuck soaked up the rare feeling of approval.
"You have," Stephen said with a nod. "Knowing that it was you who had the Intersect, not some gung-ho cowboy, made me have a little bit of confidence in the CIA. Since they picked you and not someone who'd use the Intersect for the wrong reasons."
Chuck thought back to his training and the other Project Omaha recruits. How out-of-place he had felt because he was more brainy than brawny. He found himself nodding in agreement.
"But that doesn't change the fact that if you didn't have the Intersect, the CIA would have no use for you. It's only the Intersect that makes you a spy."
What? He frowned, trying to figure out how his father had come to that conclusion.
Stephen leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Haven't you thought what might happen if the Intersect starts to affect you? Nobody involved in this project knows what the long-term consequences might be. And if something goes wrong, you think the CIA will take care of you?" He snorted. "Not likely, Chuck. Trust me on that."
"Dad, you're being paranoid," Chuck said, unable to hold back his opinion. "I'm a government employee, with health care and disability insurance and everything. If something happened to me, whether it's getting shot on a mission or the Intersect frying my brain, I would have resources. Not that I want the Intersect to fry my brain."
"You're being naïve, Charles. One way or another, the CIA's going to bury you. Either alive in a bunker or dead in a coffin." Stephen's voice was regretful but decided. "The sooner you figure that out, the sooner you can prepare for the worst."
It was all he could do not to . . . well, he didn't know what he felt like doing. Yelling? Leaving the restaurant? Possibly crying? He didn't know where this attack was coming from. He didn't understand why his father was treating him like this. Like he was just the brain the Intersect was in and nothing more. But he was more than that. He had survived the months of training just like any other spy. He had proven his abilities in the field and shown that he could hold his own. Yes, sometimes he'd felt like the CIA valued him more because of the Intersect, but that wasn't all he brought to the table. He was more than the computer in his brain.
"Is that what you really think of me, Dad?" Chuck leaned forward, trying to keep his voice even and not give away the hurt he was feeling. "That I'm just the Intersect and nothing more?"
Stephen frowned, as if he was realizing what he had said. "I've been working with these people a long time. 'The ends justify the means' is their guiding principle. They're not like you-they don't look at someone and try to find the good in them." His father swallowed. "I was like you before I got involved with the CIA. The last thing I want is for my son to follow in my footsteps."
Chuck took a deep breath. "I'm not, though, Dad. I'm not following in anyone's footsteps." He looked into his father's eyes. "I'm Chuck Bartowski. I work for the CIA. I have the Intersect. But I'm more than that and I always will be."
His father looked doubtful but resigned. "I hope you're right, Chuck."
"Comin' through!"
The voice of their waitress snapped them both out of their bubble. The business of plates of food being set on the table and the check handed over gave Chuck some breathing room. Once the waitress had stepped away, he looked at his father. "I'm not all that hungry. Are you?"
Stephen shook his head and Chuck stood up, snagging the check. "I'll pay and we'll hit the road."
"Wait, Chuck," Stephen said, grabbing Chuck's arm. "Sit down. I don't-I don't want to leave things between us like this."
Chuck looked down at his father. He hesitated, then slowly sat back down. "I don't know how you think we can fix things, Dad. Not after what you said." It was too hard to look directly at Stephen, so he focused his eyes on a point just over Stephen's shoulder.
His father seemed agitated. "You've always been special, Chuck. From the moment you were born. But-but having the Intersect, joining the CIA, that's not good enough for you." Stephen paused. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
To Chuck's surprise, his answer came without any thought required. "Yes, Dad. Some of it, the lying to Ellie and Morgan and the danger, I don't like that at all. But I can do this because I'm the right person for the job. And being a spy has brought me good things, too. So yes, this is what I want. And you're in no position to tell me what I should be doing."
As he spoke, Chuck believed more and more what he was saying. His father hadn't been around for years. As much as Chuck wanted a relationship with his father, Stephen had lost the right to have his opinion be a deciding factor in any decision that Chuck made. Stephen might disapprove of his career, but Chuck knew that he was content, even happy, being a spy. Even with all the darkness and danger, it was something he could do that was good.
Stephen nodded slowly. "All right, then, Chuck. I . . . I'm sorry. I'm not happy, but you're right-it's not up to me."
It was an uneasy truce, but a truce nonetheless. Chuck nodded to his father. "Okay, Dad. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," Stephen said, standing up. Chuck stood and headed towards the cashier's desk, feeling a multitude of emotions. But most of all, he wished Sarah was here.
XXX
The drive back to his apartment in Glendale was quiet. Only a few pleasantries were exchanged between them on the drive; otherwise Stephen dozed while Chuck drove. With extreme effort, Chuck did his best to not think about what was going on with his father. He was tired, sore and worried. Right now, he wouldn't be able to look at this situation logically. He'd get some sleep and start over in the morning.
When they arrived, Chuck lead Stephen up to his apartment and opened the door for them. Only after he closed the door and turned around did he realize he had company.
Sarah was standing in the middle of his living room, her eyes sleepy and her hair damp. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. He guessed she had taken a shower when she had gotten back, but that didn't explain why she was in his apartment.
She smiled at them. "Hi, Chuck. Mr. Bartowski, how are you doing?"
Stephen nodded, shuffling his feet. "Good. Sarah, right?"
"That's right," she said.
"Are you okay?" Chuck asked, walking over to her to get a better look. There was a small scrape on her temple, but otherwise he didn't see any injuries.
"A few bruises, but nothing too serious," she said, taking his hand. "I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. And . . . and if you wanted, to invite you to stay with me so your dad could sleep in a real bed instead of that lumpy cot he had been using at the base."
Chuck boggled at Sarah until he realized how that must look to his father. He schooled his expression, trying to act natural. He'd never stayed in her apartment. Actually, he'd never stayed in her room, period. In the villa, she'd always come to his room. And suddenly, after this day, all he wanted was to be alone with her and hold her.
When she nibbled on her lower lip, revealing her nervousness at his silence, he knew he had to speak. "That sounds great, Sarah."
Her smile was like the sun coming up. "Okay. I'll just let you get your dad settled, then." She quickly squeezed his hand and nodded to Stephen before slipping out of the apartment.
Stephen watched Sarah go, then looked at Chuck. "You two seem serious."
He wasn't really ready to talk to his father about his relationship, so he just nodded and started moving around the apartment. "The sheets on my bed should be fine, but if you want to change them there's a linen closet in the bathroom with an extra set. There's not much food in the fridge, but there's a magnet with the local pizza place's number, you could call for a pizza-"
"Chuck," Stephen interrupted him. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to sleep. And I think you need that, too."
Swallowing, Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He went into his bedroom and grabbed some clothes, then walked back into the living room. "Sarah's apartment is 604, just be two doors down if you need me. I . . . I guess I'll see you in the morning."
He had some vague misgivings about leaving his father alone, especially after the fight they had. What was to stop Stephen from leaving, from vanishing yet again? And this time, it wouldn't just be his dad leaving him and leaving Ellie; it would be Orion escaping from the CIA, too.
Maybe it was time to pull out the only weapon he had left: guilt. "Dad? We . . . there's a bunch of wedding activities going on this weekend for Ellie and Devon. I'm sure she could use our help."
Would it be enough, stressing Ellie and her wedding? Chuck waited in suspense until his father slowly nodded.
"Okay." Stephen looked at him and tried to smile. "I don't know what I can do, but . . . but it's for Ellie."
Now there was a definite lump in his throat. Somehow he managed to speak through it. "Yeah. It's for Ellie."
A look exchanged between them, one that said they would set aside their issues for the sake of the sister and daughter they loved. With that settled, Chuck turned and walked out towards Sarah's apartment.
When she opened the door, she took one look at him and pulled him inside before wrapping her arms around him. Chuck held on tightly, almost clinging to her. He buried his face against her neck and breathed deeply, trying to find some kind of peace.
Her hand softly stroked his hair. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"I . . ." He let his voice trail off as he realized he didn't know where to start. If he started talking about his father, it might take him all night.
Sarah pulled back enough to look at his face. She gave him a small, encouraging smile. "Why don't you change for bed and we can talk about . . . about whatever you want to talk about?"
"That sounds . . . that sounds like just what I need," he said softly, gazing at her for a moment before he leaned in and kissed her.
Kissing Sarah had always been wonderful. But now, after all they'd been through, it felt like something more. Like it was what kept him whole. Kept him Chuck.
She kissed him back, gently nuzzling him. "I'll get you something to eat while you change. Which you need to do."
He couldn't help a choked laugh. "Kinda smelly right now, huh?"
"Yep," she said, smiling up at him. She kissed his cheek and went over to the kitchen. He watched her for a moment, then turned and stepped into her bedroom.
It was simple: tidy, functional, but with small touches that made him think of Sarah. There was a flowering plant and a goldfish bowl, taking up space on a table near a window. A set of throwing knives sat next to a sharpening stone on her dresser. He sighed softly, feeling calmer and more relaxed than he had in hours.
After washing the dirt and sweat off and changing into a t-shirt and boxers, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Hesitantly, he sat on the edge of her bed, feeling a bit nervous about wrinkling the fluffy white duvet. But when Sarah walked in with a plate and a glass, he forgot about everything but her.
Sarah smiled and sat next to him. "Just some juice and a sandwich, but I thought you probably wanted something light," she said, holding the food out to him.
Just looking at the sandwich made him ravenous, so he quickly devoured it, in-between large swallows of the orange juice. When he finished, he looked at her sheepishly. "Thank you. And sorry about eating like a pig."
She laughed softly. "It's okay." She took the plate and glass and set them on the nightstand. When she turned back to him, she gazed at him for a few moments, then reached out and brushed her hand over his hair. "What's going on, Chuck?"
He leaned into her hand, moving closer to her. She curled up against him, warm and soft and solid and everything he needed. So it was easy to tell her everything. Easy to share his thoughts and feelings.
This was what he wanted every day. He wanted to come home with Sarah, talk to her about whatever was bothering him. And then he wanted to tell her he loved her and fall asleep with her. He wanted to make this permanent.
Permanent like marriage.
End, Chapter 13