A/N1 Up late with a bad headache. (I guess my claim that I was recovering was premature.) Distracting myself with prose. A small gift for you, gentle readers. Expect no updates until after Christmas. I'm taking a few days off.

Don't own Chuck. Still glad Chuck gave Sarah that charm bracelet in vs. Santa Claus.

CHAPTER 37 Interludial

Well, then: stop seeking. Let it all happen. Let it come and go.

Thomas Merton, Cables to the Ace 37

Casey had left, taking Jill to Castle.

After Casey left with her, Chuck ran back up the stairs to Sarah's apartment. She was standing, her robe pulled close around her, looking out the window. Chuck frowned. She had been so happy. They both had been. Jill. What a killjoy.

But when Chuck closed the door, she turned to him, her robe falling open to reveal the chemise again. She smiled at him—her smile again full of joy and desire. She held up her hand with the engagement ring on it, palm toward her so that he could see the ring there. She waved her fingers.

"It is beautiful, Chuck. And so are you. Now, as I recall, the last thing you said to me when we were in here was something about foreplay?"

"Well, sorta. But then there was…Jill and that stun grenade."

"Get on the bed, fiancé Chuck; I'll show you a stun grenade." He sat immediately on the edge of the bed.

She shrugged her shoulders and let her robe slip down her arms and onto the floor, a puddle of silken blue at her feet. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair around the back of her neck. She pulled her fingers slowly through her hair, spreading it out, loosening it. As she did, the silk of the chemise hugged her tightly.

Chuck nearly lost consciousness.

"Boom," Sarah whispered as she pushed his shoulders down onto the bed and covered him with her.

Alex was standing in the front of the Buy More. She and Morgan had made plans to have dinner. She was excited. She liked Morgan. He was sweet. Geeky and not fully adjusted to the so-called adult world, true—but sweet. She'd dated the not-sweet, 'fully adjusted' guys enough to have had enough of them. She wanted someone who wanted a family, not a fantasy. Someone who wanted her and not a flattering reflection of himself in her eyes. She'd grown up without a father. She wanted a man in her life—not a father figure for her, but someone who wanted to be a father. Who wanted to be a husband. Someone who wanted to be a man, not an overgrown boy.

She smiled inwardly. Surely, Morgan seemed exactly like an overgrown boy. But that was part of what intrigued her. He wasn't an overgrown boy pretending to be a man. He was an overgrown boy who—she had a strong suspicion—was hiding an actual man underneath the overgrowth. She was willing to take the chance.

Two men in white shirts approached her. The smaller one, dark, with longish hair, got very close to her and then circled her, looking at her intensely, like she was some sort of mystery. The other, fleshy and sleepy, seemed over and over about to say something to her, but no word ever issued from him.

Luckily, Morgan appeared, a navy Buy More jacket over his green Buy More shirt.

"Hey, Alex. This is Lester and this is Jeff. They are really one corporate entity known as Jeffster. Never, ever eat or drink anything that they give you. And remember, if you stand still, they have a hard time finding you. Their eyes only lock on moving targets."

Morgan shouldered Jeff aside and put his hand softly on Alex's shoulder. He glared at Lester and Lester slowly backed away.

"Wow. They are scary, Morgan." Alex was laughing, however.

"You should see them when they are off their meds."

As they stepped outside, Alex realized the sun had already gone down. It was a cool evening and the top she had on, while one of her most attractive, wasn't warm. But before she had thought to regret her choice, though, Morgan had draped his jacket around her shoulders. She looked at him.

"Oh, I guess I should've asked. You just looked cold."

"I was. Thanks, Morgan. That was sweet." She pulled the jacket around her more tightly.

"Sweet…" Morgan smiled. "Gee, now I feel like I am twelve."

"That's ok, Morgan. I sort of feel that way all-of-a-sudden too." It was all she could do to keep herself from skipping. She took his hand.

Casey had come upstairs after locking Jill in a holding cell and doing some necessary paperwork. He had also talked briefly with General Beckman; she was due in town tomorrow, so that conversation could be kept short.

When he got up into the Buy More, he noticed a small, striking auburn-haired young woman at the front of the store. She seemed to be looking for someone—but not for Lester and Jeff, although they were circling and staring. Casey started to go and rescue her when he saw Morgan do it.

Morgan seemed like a clown a lot of the time. But Casey ungrudgingly admitted the little man had proven he had stones. He was no coward and, when he made himself pay attention, he was no clown. He was certainly paying attention to the young woman. Something about her tugged at Casey's memory. Had he met her?

He followed them as far as the door and then stopped to watch them through the glass. He saw Morgan put his jacket around her shoulders. She seemed touched by the gesture, and as they walked on, she seemed like she was almost dancing. Good for the little bearded man.

Why did she seem so familiar?

Casey turned from the door to make his way into the store when he heard his name. He turned to find Carina smiling ear to ear in her typical, half-suggestive, half-joking manner.

"Carina. What brings you to town?"

"Well, that might be you, big guy."

Casey raised his brows. Carina was impossible. Every conversation with her felt a little like Russian roulette. Any remark might be a bullet to the brain. He waited in silence, choosing wisdom over valor.

Carina gave him an appraising glance, tilting her head to the side.

"Cat Squad got your tongue?"

"Don't know nothing about that, Carina."

"I'm looking for Walker. I figured she'd be wherever Chuckles is, you know, keeping him safe or whatever it is she does—and I figured he'd be…here." She looked around, stunned as before by the green boxy Buy More. "So, is she here?"

"No, not here. I suspect she is…busy."

"Work? Mission?"

"Not exactly. Been kind of a big day for Walker."

"You don't say?" Carina was beginning to get interested. She took a step closer to Casey, who unconsciously took a step back to compensate.

"You need to talk to her."

"So, she is still…assigned to Chuckles?"

Casey grinned in spite of his desire not to prolong the conversation. "Yes. Still assigned."

It was Carina's turn to raise her brows. "Spill, Casey."

Casey made a crisp, parade-ground turn and headed double-time in the opposite direction.

"Coward!"

Lester was slowly, slowly creeping toward Carina. He was gazing at her in lost fascination. Sometimes, Lester loved living in LA: where else in the world could you plausibly hope to see a woman like that out…shopping?

Carina saw him creeping. "One more step and I will cut you."

Lester stopped. The willowy redhead towered over him. He dropped his head in defeat. Life was unfair.

Leader's computers had compiled and collated. There were really only a few realistic possibilities. Walker must have flown from Budapest to the States, stopping at an eastern hub. And from there on to California. She might have taken a military flight but there were none that seemed likely. Wrong times, wrong destinations.

Leader gained access to video cameras in the airport at Budapest and in other airports near enough to be reached by car. He began running facial recognition software.

The thought of facial recognition caused Leader to refocus her eyes, so that she saw, not what was showing on the screen, but her own face reflected in it. The face seemed alien, foreign, and distant. She touched her chin hesitantly with her fingers. The face also seemed familiar, comfortable…older…Older than when? Older than what?

Leader refocused his eyes. It might be hours before the software was finished. It might be days. And even if he could track the flight he would have to work out where Walker had gone once she got to California. Luckily, Leader had nothing but time. His room had no windows. There were only the computers and the monitors and the cot—and the slot in the door for meals.

Walker must have found that she had maternal instincts. Leader recalled a line of Samuel Butler's from The Way of All Flesh: "All parents are fools, but more especially mothers."

Leader began to smile his death's head smile, pleased at the literary reference, but the smile never arrived.

The line made her sad.

Sarah was asleep. She heard a knock on her door. She was so relaxed, so embodied and disembodied, so loose and drowsy from the lovemaking that had occupied the afternoon and early evening that she could not get her limbs to respond to her recognition that someone was at the door.

"Walker? Are you in there? It's me, Carina. Do you have a man in there? Or is it Chuckles?"

Sarah felt Chuck awaken. She rose up to look at him. He put his bent finger beneath her chin and tilted her face further up toward him. He kissed her so passionately and so gently that she felt it to the soles of her feet while barely feeling it against her lips. "Well?" Chuck said.

"I guess we have to let her in?" Sarah's look was full of hope that she was wrong.

"Sarah Walker. I came all the way here to see you. I know you are in there!"

"No exit," Chuck observed.

Sarah laughed quietly, thinking of earlier in the day and thinking of the play. "Right. 'Hell is other people.'"

Chuck nodded. "Sartre. Of course, Sartre forgot: heaven is other people too." He looked at her with such deep affection. "I am a Gabriel Marcel guy anyway. The Mystery of Being. Oh well, I guess you have to let her in."

"Carina! I will be there in a minute." Sarah said loudly.

Carina huffed and puffed on the door in impatient response.

"Put your clothes on, Chuck. This all," Sarah whispered, as she ran her hand lightly down his chest and beneath the sheets, "is only for me, just for me."

Chuck got up and dressed quickly, locating his clothes in various spots around the room. Sarah came out of the bathroom in fresh pajamas. Chuck helped Sarah straighten the bed. Sarah finally answered the door.

Ellie and Devon were sitting at their table. There was a large calendar in front of them and piles of paper all around it. They both looked exhausted and frazzled. Devon stared hard at the calendar.

"You are sure? You're sure that is the date?"

Ellie nodded.

"Have you double-checked it?"

Ellie nodded again.

"So I guess I have to be the one to say it?" Devon turned his stare on Ellie. She nodded a third time.

"We have a date for the wedding: the weekend after this one. Less than ten days?"

Ellie's responsive smile was tired and terrified and very happy. "We have a date!"

Beckman was putting the last of her things in her suitcase. Generals, she found, did not travel as light as spies. If Roan were there, he'd be rolling at the excess in her packing. She packed two of almost everything. She also had a huge, thick book in the large bag she was also carrying, Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy. That book always calmed her and delighted her, although she could never seem to get anyone else to read it. Roan always shuddered in mock-horror whenever she mentioned it.

Oh well, it meant Roan never got to make friends with words like 'Pumpkinification'. That was a word she had to admit she associated with Roan. She laughed out loud, even though she was alone. She loved that old pumpkin! She could just never seem to tell him so. So many years, so many complications, so many compromises.

Her phone rang. It was Rose. Her excitement was audible, despite her obvious attempt to contain it.

"Aunt Becky? Hi! I wanted to call you with the good news: I'm pregnant!"

Beckman sat down on the bed beside her suitcase and spent the next half hour on the phone being happy for Rose, and happy along with Rose.

AN2 Since a couple of folks have asked, I have not gone to sleep at the pronoun wheel in the Leader sections. It may generally be true that if you are your own beta, then your beta has a fool for an author-but not in this specific case.