A/N: Still a ChuckQuinn production…..*sigh* Also, I picked Travis out of the clear blue yonder. No hidden meaning.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

Sarah followed Bryce outside. They headed down the street, to the nearby beach. Bryce sat down on a bench, and looked out at the ocean. For the first time, she saw him relaxed. Even when they were together, physically, he always seemed to have his guard up, like he didn't trust anyone.

"I guess you know that Travis' real name isn't Travis," Bryce began, still looking out over the ocean. "Travis is in hiding."

"If he's in hiding, then why isn't he in the Marshals' hands? Bryce, what are you playing at?" Sarah didn't know why this was bothering her so much. She had no idea who that guy was, but there was something in his eyes that told her he had to be protected at all costs.

"I need to tell you something that's going to hurt, but you have to know it before I tell you anything else," Bryce said, still not looking at her.

"Okay," Sarah agreed, wondering as to the nature of this huge secret.

"I never trusted you," he said. He dropped his head, took a breath, and turned toward her. "Until today."

"Why?" she asked, feeling the coldness of Agent Sarah Walker fill her, the feeling she hated. "Why didn't you trust me, and why now?"

"Graham." He let that sit there between him, and she knew exactly what he meant. She had been groomed by Graham; she had been his right hand, taking care of his personal missions. She was his personal enforcer. It had been what made her gather the courage to finally walk away a few weeks ago. And now, the one person she had somewhat of a relationship with, told her he didn't trust her.

"I want you to know I tried, Sarah, I tried, but how could I open up to you, knowing who you were supposed to be? And before you yell, you didn't do that much opening up, either."

She chuckled at that. She had to, or cry, and she refused to cry over anything Bryce said. The sad fact was, he was right. Bryce was 1000% right. She hadn't opened up, she hadn't let him in, and knowing the rumors out there about her… well, she really couldn't blame him.

"But I wasn't fair to you," Bryce continued, making her blink, turning to him. "I placed what I thought was happening on you, and not what really was."

"What was really going on?" she asked. "I mean, I want to know what you thought I was, or what we were going through."

"You were trying to figure out a relationship for the first time in your life," Bryce said gently. There was no attack, no meanness, just an honest assessment of what he had seen. "If I'm wrong, you feel free to tell me." She pressed her lips together, and shook her head. He had nailed it. "In the future, words do help."

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied. "But… why do you trust me now?"

"Because I saw you for the first time today," Bryce said with a shrug. "When you saw… Travis."

"Not gonna tell me his real name, huh?"

"Not yet," Bryce replied. "When you saw him, it all got stripped away, and I saw her. I had seen glimpses before, it's what attracted me to you."

"That's what attracted you to me?" she asked, the sarcasm in her voice was obvious.

"I meant, more than the physical," Bryce replied with a shrug. "I wanted more, but I didn't think I could trust you, and you wouldn't let me in."

"Wait, you thought we were together, so I could to check up on you?" Sarah asked.

"No, it's not that… it's very complicated." He sighed. "I need to tell you a story, and it's going to put Travis at risk. I need to ask you one more time: Would you hurt him? Would you take him out, if Graham asked you to?"

"No," Sarah replied quickly. "I would not. He's… there's…"

"He's Ch-" and he cut himself off quickly. "It's who he is," Bryce finished.

"He's not a Chad," Sarah said with a head shake, trying to figure it out.

"Listen to my story, and then see if you don't understand my concern." Sarah nodded.

"It started at Stanford. Travis scored amazingly high on a test, a CIA recruitment test. I went to him, told him what it was. I told him I was CIA. I told him that they were going to try and make him an agent, and what all that entailed."

Bryce looked out over the ocean again, a grin on his face. "I always thought he was soft, but when they began, he brought me with him. He told them he would not be an agent, that wasn't who he was. But he would work with them in cyber-crimes."

"He told them?" Sarah asked, not believing what she was hearing.

"He hacked their system, to show them exactly how serious he was," Bryce said chuckling. "They listened. He became the analyst everyone wanted to work with."

"Carmichael?" Sarah asked. Bryce nodded. "That's Carmichael? He's dead!" Bryce just grinned at her. "Okay, now I'm starting to understand why he has to be a secret. But as to why you couldn't trust me?"

"Sarah, you were Graham's right hand. If you found out what he was doing, you'd… you'd do what he asked in a minute, regardless of our relationship. I didn't think you were with me because Graham ordered you to, but I was scared he'd figure… Carmichael and I out, and he'd order you to kill me."

"Not like that, Bryce!" Sarah said, insulted. "God! I'm not like that!"

"I know that, now!" Bryce replied. "Don't you get it? You never let me in enough to know… well… you." There was actual sorrow in Bryce's voice.

Sarah blew out a frustrated breath. "I know," she said softly. "God, Bryce, I was losing myself in that job."

"We all were," Bryce replied. "I want out so bad, but if I do, I'm afraid of the questions, I'm afraid of the… consequences, for… Carmichael, and for me."

"What happened that made him fake his own death?" Sarah asked.

"The Intersect," Bryce replied.

"That's a myth!"

"Well, that myth is in the coffee shop, right now," Bryce said, giving her a look. "God, I hope I'm not an idiot trusting you."

"He needs better protection!" Sarah hissed. "You need to get him to the Marshals."

Bryce grinned and shook his head. "You don't understand what it took to get him to go to San Diego," Bryce explained, an amused look on his face. "He believes in friends and family. His current 'boss' he connected with a former NSA agent."

"She acted like she knew about the life," Sarah told him. "Okay, so he has the Intersect in his head… why fake his death?"

"First, the pressure was building for him to be an agent," Bryce began. "They were threatening him with a bunker, to which he said he wouldn't let them have any intel. It was becoming a pissing match, one that Graham was losing."

"Graham does not like to lose," Sarah muttered.

Bryce nodded. "Carmichael and I thought the day was coming that they'd put the Intersect in someone else, and then have him… retired."

"Oh, God," Sarah said, her hand going to her mouth.

"I see by your reaction you thought the same way we did," Bryce noted. "And, not to be crass, but who would know better than you?"

"Not crass at all," Sarah agreed. "It's exactly what Graham would have done. You went through the NSA, didn't you?"

Bryce nodded. "He destroyed all the work that had been done, and made it look like he had died in the explosion. In reality we got him here, and changed his name. He's hiding in plain-ish sight. He's a people person, so we found a job where he could interact with people."

"What do you want with me?" Sarah asked.

"Originally nothing," Bryce admitted. "I was worried you were searching for him. Alex assured me you weren't. She called her dad, and told him what she thought, and he was on board. He's the one behind the coffee shop, and the NSA knows where Carmichael is. Once a day, he looks at daily intel for an hour, and see if the Intersect tells him anything. He reports what, if anything he finds, and that's it. Otherwise, he's just a twenty-something Stanford grad that isn't living up to his potential, working in a coffee shop."

"Okay, but you said, originally," Sarah pointed out.

"Alex thinks it would be nice if you took him out, around town. He's lonely." Bryce began to chuckle. "She thinks you'd protect him, and he could use some company."

She was quiet for a moment. "I thought he was scared of me."

"You heard that?" Bryce asked with a wince. "That ring… you know the mission you wore it on?" She nodded. "He saw the file."

"Oh, God!" Sarah replied. "He must think I'm awful."

"No, in fact he kept going on about how efficient and good you were at your job." Sarah's eyes widened. "Carmichael appreciates good work. Once he was convinced you weren't actually here to kill him, he calmed down. I told him you might be a bodyguard or something, and he told me, and I quote, 'I'll be safer than the President. No, seriously, she used to work for the Secret Service.'" Bryce gave her a long look. "Did you?"

"I worked with them for a few months," she said with a shrug. "What's his name?"

"Does this mean you'll help?"

The question hung there. She turned and looked out over the ocean, thinking how calm it made her feel, and how it hadn't even touched how she felt when she had locked eyes with Carmichael. He had worked in the CIA, and hadn't become damaged like her. He was trying to live his life. Wasn't that the greater good?

"He also might have a crush on you… just a warning." She couldn't stop the grin on her face. "Really?"

"Is he as nice of a guy as he seems?" Sarah asked, unable to stop herself.

"I can honestly say there is not a better person in this world than Chuck Bartowski," Bryce said.

She slowly turned. He was a Chuck Bartowski. He was calm, tranquility, peace, all rolled up into one.

"Sarah, if anyone deserves our help, if there's anyone who can redeem us from all the terrible things we have done, it's him."

"Chuck, huh?" she asked, the grin still on her face.

"None of us can call him Travis," Bryce admitted.

"I can see why," Sarah replied. "I'll be around, and as for taking him on the town, I don't know… maybe I can be a cover girlfriend or something, but I don't want to mess up his private life."

"Pfffth, the man currently has no private life. He's just trying to stay alive, and make coffee… which he's really good at." Sarah grinned. She felt that warmth again, she felt good. She felt a need. A need to go meet Chuck Bartowski.

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