summary: Exhausted from the events with her mother, the baby, and Ryker, Sarah takes a break and turns down Graham's next assignment. With her not there to intervene, Casey's Intersect plan is realized- Chuck is thrown into a bunker. When she learns the truth through a twist of fate, Sarah realizes all she missed out on in not taking that mission, and the gift she never got to know. Discovering the bunker has isolated Chuck and shut down the Intersect, she decides she only has one choice: to fix it. What she finds in him, and he in her, might just change both of their lives.
note: Thanks, y'all. This story is all planned and written up to a degree, forever just finding moments to edit or finish things. I appreciate all your words and stuff. Anyway, ain't a me Chuck fic without chocolate croissants. Please review!
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, puffy hair, sports cars, or conference rooms.
When she gets to his door, she just catches the analyst, a short, skinny guy with glasses, about to leave today's files for Chuck. Despite yesterday's success, or maybe because of it, the stack is bigger than normal, and she sighs.
"Hey, I'll take those," she says, and the kid turns to her with a confused expression, hand still reaching out toward the keypad.
"Uh, I'm just supposed to leave them here-"
"I'm Agent Walker," she explains. "I'm the asset's handler."
He blanches, whether at the position or her name.
"Oh." He blinks a few times behind the thick frames of his glasses. "I haven't-"
She sighs, taking pity on the guy.
"Just give me them, it's fine, I've got it." She reaches out, and he hands them over abruptly, suddenly, like he hadn't quite planned it. She tries to hold back a flat look at the action.
These are some of the only people Chuck has interacted with lately? She knows they only leave the files inside, but she feels that if that were her job she'd at least say something. Sarah's not one to judge, but she's not sure this guy is a particularly skilled communicator. No wonder Chuck is so eager to talk to her all the time. Even if she finds herself a little eager for conversation too.
Once she's holding the whole, heavy stack, the analyst scurries away past her, and Sarah rolls her eyes. Her reputation must precede her. And now she's left holding a huge amount of files, admittedly at her request, and still clutching the paper bag she'd already come here with, and she suddenly realizes she can't access the door panel.
Shifting the things in her hands, she frees an elbow, typically her still-healing arm, and manages to hit the intercom by the hand scanner.
After a few awkward balancing seconds, it crackles to life.
"Hello?"
"Chuck, it's me."
"Oh!" he says happily, voice a little fuzzy through the speaker. "You're early."
"Yeah, and I caught your file delivery before you had to deal with it, but now my hands are too full."
"Oh." Chuck says again, pausing once more, and she frowns. "Oh, right! I'll come let you in."
Suppressing a smirk at that, she waits, and sure enough the door slides open not long after, Chuck behind it with a slightly sleepy grin. He's dressed, she sees, shoes on his feet and all, but his hair is all puffy and messy, his eyes a little more bleary than when she usually sees him. He's oddly adorable, like this. He looks down to the files in her hand almost absently before reaching out.
"I got 'em. You really shouldn't carry all those with a shoulder injury."
She shrugs, ignoring the decided twinge along her arm at the move, which basically proves his point.
"What are you, my doctor?" she asks kindly, smirking a little as he heads down to his office and dumps the files on the desk.
"No," he admits. "But I am the brother of a doctor, and I was mighty clumsy as a kid so I got a lot of lectures about over-testing injuries."
His smile turns a little wistful at the mention of his sister, his childhood, home. The very thing she's trying to return him to.
"Fair enough."
And then he grins, eyebrows raising curiously.
"So, why were you here early enough to pick up the delivery?"
"I brought breakfast." She holds up the paper bag in her hand, stamped with the bakery's name. "I assume you like chocolate croissants."
"I don't trust anyone who doesn't like chocolate croissants, so." He beams at her, eyes a little mischievous.
Giggling, she hands the pastries over, and they head through to his room rather than his office. It's breakfast, after all, not work, and it's not 9am yet.
As she heads to his coffee pot, she sees their two mugs already set out on the counter, and she feels something familiar and warm tug in her chest at the sight again. At this routine, the two of them, every day here. Habit, repeat schedules, even traditions- these things are hard to find in the spy life. Running everywhere and constantly going from place to mission to place, it's hard to settle into anything. This, with Chuck, is probably the most routine Sarah's known in a long time.
He pours the coffees, making hers her way without even asking, and she sits at one of the kitchen chairs when he brings them over. They're onto the croissants not long later, eating them from the bag. Chuck gets a smudge of chocolate around his mouth. She doesn't think to tell him about it.
"So I spoke to Graham last night," she says, swallowing a mouthful of pastry. Chuck raises his eyebrows in answer. "We're probably dealing with the NSA today, about what happened yesterday."
He nods a little tight, sipping his coffee.
"Is there gonna be trouble- are you gonna be in trouble?"
"No," she says, though she's not sure how true that is. She'll take the hit for him if there is anything, regardless. "I'm your handler now. This approach, my approach, helped you flash again, and the NSA aren't gonna risk that. They might yell a little, but..."
"You can handle that," he suggests with a smirk, and she chuckles.
"Yes. But I did put forward what I think our next steps should be, to Graham."
Chuck pauses, eyeing her. They haven't really talked about this, her plan, her ideas. She didn't want to get Chuck's hopes up for getting out of here entire if it isn't gonna happen, or share details if the NSA will shoot it down. But she knows she's got Graham on board with the logic of all of this, and that her plan makes sense. Chuck's work this past week has been the evidence. And so she sets her croissant down, looks at him across the kitchen counter.
"I think this bunker is bullshit." she says, and he simply blinks. "And I've said it before, I think you being here is a bad idea, and a horrible thing to do to you, but it also doesn't work for the Intersect, at all. I think you could've thrived at home, with your family and your friends and an operation set up there, but instead they took you out of all that familiarity and locked you in here and expected you to be fine with that like any other asset."
He swallows, sets down his mug.
"So... what's your plan?"
"To get you home," she says, shrugging a shoulder. "It might take time to set up a base and a cover for your return, but I think a field operation, in Los Angeles, is the best way to go. You work best in the field, seeing things, working off those, rather than files and reports. Being out of here just makes sense, and you as both Chuck and the Intersect, need to be home, and surrounded by people you know, or the computer doesn't work. Going home to Burbank just feels the most logical step, in every way."
Before her, he just gapes a little, that smudge of chocolate around his mouth still, dammit, too endearing to her. And not for the first time, she wonders why she's fighting for him so much, besides the residual guilt she feels over passing on this assignment. All she can think is exactly what she said yesterday to Graham: she likes Chuck. He's a nice, genuine guy, who doesn't deserve this. And he can't do anything to help himself right now, he can't get himself out of this. But she can.
"Sarah..." he trails off, looking a little lost for words. He reaches out, almost abrupt, hand curling around her wrist so gently. He looks down at it, rolls his lip a little in contemplation and then looks back up, decided. "If this happens, if I get home. Will you be there?"
She smiles, tilts her head a little, surprised that's his first question.
"Of course."
"Okay. Because- because as much as all that might help, Sarah... You know the Intersect only started working again because of you." He says it so fervently, but so softly, eyes aglow, and she feels something soft within the pit of her stomach stir. For him. For his trust in her and his credit to her and just... him. His hand around hers. She doesn't know what it is, what it means, this feeling, but god, it's there. He keeps going, sweet as ever. "It worked because you cared and you helped me figure this shit out. You listened and took initiative, and you brought me Justice League and chocolate croissants." He grins. "I'm pretty sure I need you with me- for the Intersect."
"Chuck, I'm your handler," she says with a soft laugh, willing the feeling within her to both cease altogether and maybe grow a little more. Something in this feels... different. Entwining, wrapping around her, like vines growing and twisting, burrowing into her. "I'm serious, I'm in this with you."
He smiles softly, still looking a bit disbelieving.
"Okay." He swallows. "And to be real, I'm like, super trying not to get ahead of myself and out of hand and all that, but..."
Smiling, she shifts her hand to squeeze his before pulling back, catching sight of her watch as she goes.
"Ugh. We should probably make a start on all those files."
He rolls his eyes a little, kindly, and grabs the coffee pot to refill both their cups before they get started.
The call comes just after they've finished lunch. He's not surprised by it, at all, when Sarah's cell buzzes, and she sends him an apologetic look before heading out into the hallway for a murmured conversation.
Sure enough, soon after, his handler comes back in, smiling at him softly.
"It's time. The NSA want to meet- with you."
He blinks, swallows, and nods. He can hardly refuse such an offer. Grabbing a jacket for the fall he presumes is still happening outside, they leave the files for the second consecutive day, and leave his quarters.
"It's a good sign, that they want to meet with you, not just me or Graham. I'm glad they're including you in this," she says as they slowly leave, his doors sliding shut behind them. He instinctively takes a look over his shoulder as they go, seeing the blank panel, lock, no number next to it. The fortress that held him steady for two full months.
He swallows again, focusing on Sarah's words- which he thinks might just be why she's saying them. Clearing his throat, he nods.
"Yeah, yeah, me too. I didn't... I've only met Major Casey, really. Never your bosses, or the NSA- I saw Graham, once, from far away, but he didn't exactly say hi. I'm... I'm glad they're at least letting me in enough to talk to me."
She sighs, shaking her head as they head up the stairs.
"They should've done that from the start," she mumbles bitterly, surprisingly so in fact, and he frowns in confusion at quite how frustrated she sounds at that. Before he can follow it up, though, she shakes her head, moves on. "Anyway, hopefully this will be quite simple. In the best way, you shouldn't have to say much. I think this will more be Beckman evaluating me, as a person, your handler, and evaluating my proposal for a new mission."
He chews on his lip at that, nodding as they make their way farther upstairs.
He now knows what that proposal is- moving back to LA. Setting up a field operation. Getting out of the bunker.
He's trying not to get his hopes up on that too much, just in case it gets shut down today. But god, that Sarah even thinks that would be a good idea, that it's her suggestion to do this, make this change... it feels so fucking good to have her in his corner.
They don't say much as they make their way to the parking structure just below ground, Sarah steadily making her way across the space. He takes in the new environment- dark, somewhat damp, filled with cars. It's as he'd expect any underground parking lot to be, but that alone is pretty heartening. Being in a bunker for months has made even the most mundane sights somehow awesome. Although, he can't help but smirk as Sarah slows by a particular car, unlocks it.
"You really are a superspy, huh?" he murmurs, looking down at the Porsche, and she smirks.
"It's just a car."
"But it's a really, really cool car," he says, and she chuckles as he tugs open the door. He scrambles into the passenger seat, folding up his long legs to fit in, feeling pretty cramped but relishing just being in this car nonetheless. Beside him, Sarah sits down, and he catches the light smirk she sends his way. He sends her a flat look, pretending to be unimpressed at her amusement. "They didn't design sports cars for people over 6 feet, I swear."
Laughing again, she shakes her head, and he giggles too as she turns on the ignition. They drive out of the base and through the city, and he takes in everything, looking around at the people they pass, the places. In spite of himself, he feels a little like a child, watching, taking it in all. He'd never been to D.C. before this mission, and he'd arrived in the dark, overnight, stuffed into that bunker never to leave until just yesterday.
"How do you feel?" Sarah asks almost out of the blue, and he blinks, turning to her.
"What?"
"How are you?" she repeats, flicking her gaze onto him briefly, openly. "I know you told me yesterday, but today- leaving again, especially, how are you doing?"
Yet again, he wonders quite how to answer that.
"I..." He tries, then he sighs. "I'm okay. I think. Better than yesterday, I guess. I-I hadn't realized how scared I'd be leaving the bunker. I feel better today, but yesterday..."
"Did..." she tries, and he thinks she's wondering how to ask what she needs to. "Do you think it was, like... anxiety?"
He nods, shifting in his seat.
"I've never freaked out like that, before," he finds himself admitting. "I've been anxious, yeah, but never an attack like that."
"Well, it was two months," she says, and he knows she's not trying to dismiss him with such a summation. "Two months underground, minimal interactions with anyone, never going outside..."
He sighs, nodding but still irked by it.
"I know, yeah. But I'd thought I'd just be excited to get out... And instead I freaked out. I know it's your plan, but I... I'm actually not sure how I'd cope- deal with, being back in LA, with everyone." He says it in a rush, somewhat worried what she'll say to it. She really is doing so much, here, planning so much for him, and he doesn't wanna come across as ungrateful. But if he keeps feeling like he did yesterday, he's worried this isn't gonna work. "I just know if everyone saw me panicking like that, it would mess up, like, everything, Ellie and Morgan and Awesome would notice right away. I wanna be home, obviously, but..."
"It's an adjustment." He nods at her conclusion. "Chuck, it's not your fault, you know that, right? Literally, this is... All of the panic, keeping you stuck inside the bunker constantly with no support, that's the problem, and that's why I'm trying to get you out. You need support, not- not this government neglect."
He swallows, nods, and she does the same.
"You're already doing better than you did yesterday. We'll just have to build you back up."
"Okay," he murmurs, and she smiles reassuringly. Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, he tries to stay grounded. "Besides, I might not even get home."
As he'd thought- he really doesn't want to get his hopes up on that.
And yet Sarah's expression hardens a little, determined and certain.
"Don't be so sure," she murmurs softly, and he can't help but grin. God yes, he's glad she's in his corner.
The journey to the DNI doesn't take long, since it turns out the place is actually very near, and Sarah pulls into an almost-identical parking structure below ground to the one they just left. The moment she parks here, though, an Agent walks up to their side, and Chuck just goes with it as he follows Sarah's lead and steps out of the car. But when he takes a look at the man standing next to the Porsche, he feels that bizarre tension between his eyes, buzzing through his veins, and the flash hits.
Major Louis Giamotti, NSA. Served two tours, awarded a bronze star.
Nothing to be concerned about at all.
But still, Sarah catches Chuck's eye across the roof of the car, eyebrow raised in question, and he nods. She nods, too, and locks the car before they both follow the agent.
Just like that. A look, a nod, another nod. That's all they needed for her to see his flash, check it, for him to confirm it wasn't a problem, and for her to know that. He wonders if all spies are so good at communicating without saying a word.
Quiet himself, Giamotti escorts them out of the parking garage and up through the building, walking them through empty hallways, which Chuck muses could be a secret route or a path specifically emptied of others. He knows he's pretty top-secret after all. He sticks by Sarah's side as they walk, and she does the same. Their arms brush against each other every few steps, but he doesn't make to move, and neither does Sarah. The agent eventually leads them to an empty conference room, the table wide and spacious with five chairs set out, and once he's gone Chuck sees Sarah turn, immediately.
"What did you see?" she asks, and he shrugs, repeating the flash.
"He's clean, I just saw his service record. He's got a bronze star, good guy."
She smirks, humming a little.
"That was a pretty fast flash," she muses, and he nods.
"Yeah, it, uh, it surprised me a little. Yesterday, the bomb, I thought it happened because I was relaxed, happy." He swallows, trying not to linger on quite why that was. "I thought that's what the Intersect might need, but I wasn't exactly relaxed when this one happened. Maybe it's just... all this."
Being here with Sarah, his future maybe about to change, just like it was yesterday, too. Sarah tilts her head, looking curious, but before either of them can say anything, the door clicks open, and Chuck gulps as he sees the vaguely familiar figure walking through the door.
"Walker." Casey says, and Chuck watches, uncertain. Although she's still standing, he notes how Sarah just nods, keeping her distance from across the room.
"Casey."
Feeling a little ignored by the man who put him in a bunker, he clears his throat a little.
"Uh... hey, hey, Major Casey," he says, but the man only looks at him with a quick nod before looking back at the other agent in the room, suspicion and annoyance clear in his expression.
"Heard you got the kid flashing again."
Being 'the kid' in question, Chuck scoffs.
"The kid is right here," he says, a little huffily, and Casey smirks.
"Sure, Bartowski," he dismisses. "Walker-"
"Don't you see this is exactly why he wasn't flashing?" Sarah interrupts, and Chuck blinks. Casey does just the same. "You took him from his friends and family and treated him like shit and wondered why the Intersect wasn't working like it had been."
Casey frowns, sneering a little, and at the annoyance in his expression Chuck feels his heckles rising.
"Sorry I didn't bat my eyelashes and hold his hand through it all like you, Walker."
There it is.
"Hey, that's not fair!" he interrupts, standing up, and both of his handlers (because with both of them in the same room, Chuck is now keenly aware that that's what they are) turn to him. Casey looks frustrated bordering on furious, and Sarah is just looking at him, breathing a little heavily. He catches how she curls her hands into fists, then lets go, breathing out.
She swallows, turning back to Casey.
"It doesn't matter. What does is that, clearly, this other approach hasn't been working. And my approach has. That's why we're here."
"But you left, Walker. I heard this was your assignment first, you turned it down." Casey says, sounding like he's caught her out or something, but she just sends him a flat look. Chuck does much the same. The Major was clearly hoping that Sarah's past history here was some secret he's revealing to Chuck, exposing. But unlike Casey, Jones, and just about everyone else in the US government- Sarah was honest with him. From the start.
"I did. And then I found out how much it's been screwed up, so I came back to fix it."
Casey snorts, shaking his head.
"The CIA let this go to shit with Agent Jones, now you're coming in and taking this over and wanting all the glory."
Still watching, Chuck sees something flash in Sarah's eyes, something he can't figure out. But again, she straightens her shoulders, stays calm.
"I don't want glory, I just want what's best for Chuck, and for this operation." Casey pauses, then, apparently believing her on that, at least. Turning her head, she looks at Chuck again, and he tries his best to look reassuring and calm too. She sighs, turning back to the Major. "Chuck said that in LA, you got through to him, about that bomb. You know what helps the Intersect and what doesn't. That's all I'm trying to do."
Folding his arms over his chest, Casey nods.
"Beckman ain't gonna be happy." he says, and Sarah sighs.
"Probably not. But..." She leans in a little, lowering her voice, but Chuck can hear it well enough. "There's a lot they're not telling us, either of us, about all this. I've researched this whole project, there are so many holes and redacted sections- the scientist who created it isn't even listed. There's a lot Chuck doesn't know, that we don't know."
Casey raises an eyebrow, straightens up a little.
"You think they're keeping important stuff from us?"
"Of course they are, they're spies." Sarah says simply, and despite himself Chuck feels his heart thumping in his chest at the idea. He's long since suspected that something wasn't right, that things were being kept from him. The moment Agent Jones had deduced he had a computer in his brain, he'd figured he didn't know the whole picture. But he knew the evaluations he'd had in the early bunker days must've yielded something, been for something. He never heard what, though. And it turns out Sarah doesn't know, either, and neither does Casey.
It's all being held, from all of them. Deliberately so.
But Sarah's in his corner, she's gonna try and help him figure it out- and maybe they'll get Casey on their side. Indeed, he shrugs at her words, apparently allowing her point, and she nods.
"That's why we all need to be on the same page. And, when this is all sorted out, we can both handle Chuck. Together."
With a grunt, Casey takes a seat, and Chuck blinks, taking that to mean he's done debating for now. Sarah sits down too, next to Chuck, sending him a look. He nods, again the process so wordless between them, but then she leans in.
"I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to talk to you about that. I have... a lot of suspicions, about a lot, here. But we're always monitored, I couldn't find a moment- and honestly, I don't know what we don't know."
He nods, clears his throat.
"It's okay. I've... well, we've both had the same thoughts."
She nods again, and he musters up a slightly-nervous smile as the reality dawns on him of just what they're waiting for now.
Casey's here, they're all in the DNI headquarters, just waiting. They're actually meeting with the CIA and NSA heads who decided he should simply be put in a bunker. Sarah is going to pitch her new idea. He gets to be here while his future is decided, but god if that isn't just as nerve-wracking.
It's not long until the door opens once more, and in walk two figures. Graham, Chuck vaguely recognizes from the only time he'd seen the man, back in the early bunker days. Back before things shut down; he'd even flashed. Graham had been standing at the other end of the hallway after the scientists had left one of the first mornings, and just like that, Chuck had known the man's rank, name and history. The woman, he has to presume, is General Beckman. The medals on her chest certainly make that evident enough. She's somewhat diminutive in stature, but with her ramrod-straight spine, hair pulled back tight, and the glare she sends his way, Chuck gathers she more than makes up for it. Swallowing, he says nothing.
The bosses take their seats, and Beckman nods Sarah's way.
"You must be Agent Walker." she gathers, and Sarah nods in reply. Beckman narrows her eyes, scrutinizing. Whatever she sees must be good enough, since Chuck sees her gaze immediately turn to him. "Mr Bartowski."
Oh. Wait. Shit, what does he say? He's never had to address a General before. Swallowing, he nods just as Sarah had.
"Hi," he says, a little meek, but Beckman seems to blink in surprise anyway. She takes a beat before clearing her throat, looking down at the files in her hand.
"Well, we all know why we're here," she continues. "The Intersect, while initially functioning well in Mr Bartowski's head, ceased operations over a month ago. This week Agent Walker got it working again. Director Graham informed me that you have a plan moving forward, Walker?"
Sarah nods, leaning forward, hands clasped together atop the desk.
"Yes, ma'am. Chuck, and I know he agrees with this, thrives with company, respect and a positive, reciprocal environment. Moving him to D.C. and putting him into protective custody in a bunker was not conducive to the Intersect. He found himself alone, and isolated, with nobody to talk to and only files to see. I witnessed the Intersect in action yesterday as Chuck defused a highly complex bomb. He made it look easy." He can't help the blush at her words, the determined nature to them. Her trust in him, absolute faith. And he can't help but stare a little more, taking her in as she talks so very smoothly to the heads of the NSA and CIA. God she's fucking cool. "I'm of the opinion that Chuck should be moved back to Los Angeles, returning to his friends and family, and we should set up the Intersect operation there. Major Casey and I can be with Chuck, handle him there, protect him. A bunker is not something he should remain in."
Beckman sends her a flat, almost unimpressed look, and Chuck feels himself withering even though he's not its target. Sarah, though, doesn't flinch.
"Agent Walker, while we've had scientists suggest that perhaps the bunker limits Intersect activity due to cutting off Chuck's ability to simply see or come across things outside, no scientist has suggested he needs encouragement emotionally for it to function."
"No," Sarah relents. "But I'm not a scientist, and I say he does. Scientists look at data, numbers, statistics. They don't know Chuck. This whole thing is a new science nobody understands, we don't know what triggers a flash, what specific intelligence connects to the computer. But I know in a week Chuck has flashed multiple times, and the only change has been me. Talking to him."
Casey leans in, grunts a bit.
"And if that wears off, we're screwed again," he says derisively. "So then what? Tell his friends? Make everybody happy? We're not gonna tell a bunch of his family about the biggest intelligence asset in the world just so Chuck feels more comfortable."
Chuck gapes a little, still silent- is that even an option? He hadn't even considered such a thing. Hell, he only started talking to his sister more than twice a week just the other day. But no, Sarah narrows her eyes at the Major, shaking her head.
"Reading others in is up to the General and Director Graham," she presses out, and since the idea had felt so far-fetched, Chuck only feels the tiniest bit of disappointment at that. "But I think even being around them again will help, just company, less isolation."
"And what would we do in LA?" Casey asks derisively. "Gotta have a cover, the kid was at a Buy More, living with his sister, then they thought he got a great job over here. Why would he go back?"
"Simple. We say the truth: Chuck missed his family." Oh. Oh, that... might work. An idea forming, he leans in a little, seeing where Sarah goes with this. "Chuck's current cover for being here is that he got a job offer from a tech company here in D.C., correct?"
Graham nods.
"Yes, we established a cover front for that."
"Okay, so we can say the company he works for transferred him to their LA office, returning him home," Sarah says smoothly, and that idea in his head forms a little more.
"And the two of us? We gotta handle him, can't let him be wandering LA alone again as the only Intersect- what's our excuse for being there?" Casey says, blunt, and when Sarah hesitates a little, Chuck finds himself clearing his throat.
"I-I have an idea for Casey. If... y'know, if this happens."
Everyone turns to him, Casey looking almost incensed, Sarah surprised, but it's Beckman who nods.
"Very well."
Blinking at that, he processes for a moment before nodding, shifting in his chair a moment to figure things out.
"Ellie, my friends, they never saw Casey before, they only met Agent Jones, so he can be whatever we need. But... he could be a coworker. If we make this fake company setup the excuse for me coming back, Casey can just be, like, someone who already works at the LA branch or whatever we go with. I'll still be pretty new at the job, he could, what? Still be training me, getting to know me, helping me at the new office, that sort of thing."
"And what about Agent Walker?" Graham asks, keeping his agent in the loop, and it's there that Chuck hesitates. And this time, Casey snorts derisively, follows up.
"Gotta be the girlfriend. Can't have two coworkers that invested in you, that'd be weird. Say she moved from D.C. with you. Keeps her in with the family, gives her an excuse to be around him all the time."
He blinks. Winces. That... does make sense, he guesses- not Casey's idea, at all. But the logic behind it, he sees. Two coworkers hanging around him would be strange.
But it feels incredibly unimaginative, and presumptive; he wouldn't wanna put Sarah through that. They'll just need to figure something out, something somehow different.
"Agent Jones already went that route, I don't think it's wise to do so again such a short time later," Sarah says, and despite himself he snorts derisively at the idea that that would be the problem.
But it must not have been quiet enough; all eyes in the room turn to him. Oh, shit.
"Care to share with the class, Bartowski?" Casey drawls, and he tries to hold back a petty glare at the Major for that. Talk about the deep end.
"Look, my family think I went on one date with 'Lana'- two months ago. And Ellie knows it went badly. The idea of me dating someone else two months later isn't crazy- yeah it's maybe a little more than I've dated for... a while, but if I'm supposed to be happy and all living my best life shit over here, that part of the story they wouldn't struggle believing. Ellie would just be really happy, honestly." He swallows, looking at Sarah, trying to read her that way they're growing to. But she's pretty blank right now, well hidden. "But I mean, is there any other excuse we can give, a cover for you?"
Casey tuts.
"If you made the cover that you two just met back in LA, Walker would have to hang back for a while while you got to be lovebirds together. More fun for me, but-"
"I won't allow that," Graham says solidly, and Chuck sighs. And then silence falls for a beat, and the Director looks to his agent determinedly, eyebrow raiser. "Agent Walker?"
She jolts a little, and he leans in, thinks about the last thing she said before everyone started making decisions for her.
"I'm totally fine to do something else, I swear. But... if this is all we got, then uh, if would be fine, in terms of how my family would take it."
She does look contemplative a moment, but when she seems to come up with nothing immediately, Graham nods.
"Works for me."
Beckman sighs, apparently seeing they're agreeing on this route.
"Look, we're getting ahead of ourselves here. Thinking about covers is useless when we've decided nothing yet. I would still like to see more evidence of the Intersect in action, first. While Agent Walker's methods seem to work, I think more testing should be done."
Wait, what?
"Testing?" he asks, feeling himself pale a little. "Like, like with needles? Probing?"
"No, moron, she means keep you in the bunker with us a little longer so we know this wasn't a fluke."
He sends Casey a flat look at that, and the Major just snarls a little, childishly, in reply. Beside him, Chuck hears Sarah sigh a little, and he watches as she shakes her head.
"It wasn't a fluke," she murmurs. "Chuck even flashed on a guard outside here today."
"He's- he's clean, if you're wondering," Chuck supplies, shrugging a shoulder.
Beckman arches and eyebrow, but Graham seems less impressed.
"Good to know," he quips, before sitting more upright. "I agree with the General. Agent Walker, your injury is still healing anyway; I think more time is needed with the Intersect primarily remaining in the bunker, working with Walker and Casey. Leaving on a few missions now and then could give us some good intel on how stable this new situation is."
He tries not to frown at that, seeing Sarah shift a little too. To him, it feels pretty stable- very stable. After months being alone and isolated, they've finally found a way to make the Intersect work, and work well. The flash he had on that guard, here- he was never flashing that quickly, that easily, even back in LA. This is the best the computer in his head has ever felt, weird as that is to think.
But he's also pretty sure these things take time, covers, field operations, anything in the government, and considering how much Sarah had suggested they might have to fight and pitch this, this feels like a decided win. Even a 'maybe' feels like a win. And so he stays quiet, just watching those who hold his fate in their hands.
Beckman nods in agreement, speaking up again.
"If we do agree to move this operation to Los Angeles, we'll have to fully establish a company, an office space for a front, too, as well as a mission base, covers. And accommodation, unless you want to move back in with your sister." She says it with an almost mean tone within it, but he's used to that from years of jibes about the subject anyway. He never cared that he lived with Ellie- she raised him, after all. Passing over it, he thinks on her question. He's incredibly aware how much of a government secret he is- and within that, how much of a get he must be for anyone who wants to harm the government. And while he's gonna have to live with that, living with Ellie and Awesome likely means putting them at risk to all that too. And so he shakes his head.
"No," he confirms, but a spare thought rears in his mind. "If we need a place, though, when I left there were a couple empty apartments in the complex. Obviously we could go anywhere, but they could be a good place to set up things, if they're still available."
Sarah hums, tilting her head curiously again.
"What Casey said- would we be reading Chuck's family into this?" she asks.
He blinks. Graham recoils, Beckman jolts a little. Casey growls.
"No. Not civilians, c'mon," he protests, and Chuck holds his tongue, waiting for the others.
"If keeping it a secret begins to hinder the Intersect again... I think so."
It's Beckman who's spoken, oddly enough. Chuck gapes, looking at the diminutive, terrifying General at the other end of the table, who's... on his side. Their side, he thinks, as he looks at Sarah and sees her looking as shocked as he is. Holy shit. This is the woman who wanted to put him in a bunker- who did just that. The woman who sent Casey to LA to threaten him and intimidate him, have him haul Chuck over here. But she thinks reading his family in could be a good idea.
God, Chuck thinks, just the idea of telling the truth to Ellie, maybe to Morgan, having that weight off his chest of how much he misses them and how much he never wanted to leave and how completely scared he's been every damn day. To tell them about Sarah. How, finally, someone believed in him, other than them. How someone else in this world maybe saw in him what they always have. Made him see it too, even. He swallows, trying to clear his suddenly-misting eyes, and realizes everyone is awaiting his response.
"Okay. I'm- I'm okay with that."
Beckman nods, Graham too.
"We'll return here in a month, and review the situation then." The General says, gathering her files and standing up. "In the meantime, Chuck should remain in the base unless flashes require action like yesterday. We will... continue to review ways to keep Chuck's emotional needs seen to as well as the operational requirements of this mission. And Agent Walker, I want Major Casey involved in your daily intelligence reading with the asset, too."
Sarah nods sharply, and while Chuck isn't thrilled about dealing with the man who's so often so cutting and cruel, he knows that they'll need him on their side in this. In LA, and for this plan to work, yes, but he remembers how clear Sarah had been about what handlers should do- how they shouldn't just leave, how they should handle their assets, encourage and protect them when necessary. Casey is his other handler, and Chuck knows that Graham and Beckman likely won't approve this if the Major isn't wholly on board.
Graham stands, too.
"I'll be in touch with you both throughout the month," he promises, sending Sarah a look Chuck doesn't understand but can gather the meaning behind- a pointed note that he really means her-, and she again nods at his words.
"Let's just get this mess straightened out as soon as possible," Beckman mutters as she heads to the door. "And the Intersect Project can actually begin."
Chuck holds back a laugh to himself- as if it weren't Beckman, Graham, and partly Casey bunkering him that stalled the project to begin with. The bosses leave, and Sarah slumps back in her chair with an audible sigh, Casey grunting quietly. As they sit, the reality of what's just happened hits Chuck.
"I... I really might be going home?" he checks, just a murmur.
Sarah smiles softly, nodding.
"Yeah."
Casey snorts, typically.
"Enjoy the bunker while it lasts, Bartowski."
And oh, Chuck thinks to himself, he fully intends to.
"Hey, um, I'm sorry," he begins, as they pull out of the parking lot after the rather revolutionary meeting they've just had at the DNI, and she looks across the console at him with a frown.
"Why?" she asks, wondering quite what from today he could have any cause to apologize for. A lot of stuff happened, some that truly stunned her, but nothing that she could ever think warrants an apology from her asset.
He pulls a face, rubs the back of his neck. The afternoon light streams over him as they get back outside, sunlight illuminating his eyes, hitting little flecks of gold there. She sees how his elbow bumps against the window as he does so, those long arms of his. And she looks back out at the road.
"Just- that whole cover thing?" he checks. "It felt like a bunch of people, including me, just... talking about you while you were right there."
While his apology is kind, it's unnecessary, in the way he's thinking, at least. She's not surprised that he noticed it- maybe once she would've been, but she's never known anyone as observant, and frankly, attuned to her, as Chuck is. And today, with Graham and Beckman, what Chuck has just apologized for did happen. Everyone talked about her and decided her cover while she was there, saying little and giving little input, but...
"I'm used to that, trust me. I can count on one hand the number of covers and identities I've actually chosen myself, Chuck."
He sighs; she hears him shift in his seat.
"Yeah, but still, I... Casey suggesting you..."
"Be your girlfriend?" she confirms, looking decidedly at the road, but seeing him nod in her peripheral vision.
It is awkward. And in a way, she wishes she had come up with some other ingenious cover they could use. But there's only so many ways to fool people, and Casey took the helpful coworker route. It made the most sense for him, though; a random neighborly friend isn't exactly a cover she thinks the Major could sell.
"Yeah," Chuck sighs again. "And then everyone agreeing, without you even saying yes. That's shitty, I'm sorry I couldn't think of anything else."
"It's fine, really," she reassures him, genuine, taking another look and seeing him look contemplative for a beat before finally nodding. With that, she moves on. "What did you make of all that?" she checks in.
"Beckman is terrifying." he says bluntly, and despite herself, Sarah bursts out laughing, Chuck doing just the same.
She rolls her eyes, shakes her head, affection bubbling within her.
"A little, yeah. But I meant the set up, the cover, all of that."
And she thinks he knew that. But still, he made her laugh, so the diversion was worth it.
"Honestly, it's- it's way more than I ever expected," he admits, sobering. "Like, Beckman being on my side, about maybe telling my family if we need to?"
Yeah, that was quite the bombshell, Sarah muses with wide eyes. She truly hadn't expected that. And of everything to come from today, that's the thing that most surprised her. The general who ordered Casey to LA, who put Chuck in this bunker as much as Graham did, decided that maybe Chuck's family can be read in if they think it will help Chuck down the line. It's almost as surprising as the Major himself sort of warming up, a little, at least not entirely shutting down their ideas- and at that thought, a sudden question strikes Sarah, and she tilts her head.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Chuck nods.
"Why do you call him Major Casey?"
Beside her, her asset blinks, frowning.
"What?"
"Casey," she clarifies, though it's obvious. She's sure Chuck must be aware of what he does, every time he's referred to the NSA agent, but still, she's curious why he does it. "Every time you talk to him, or about him, you call him 'Major Casey'. Not just Casey."
"He's a Major."
"And I'm an Agent," she quips, fast, and he giggles at that. "But you don't call me Agent Walker- not anymore, at least. You always call Casey by like, his full title."
He chews his lip, shrugs a little.
"He only ever called himself that to me, I guess. You- you told me to call you Sarah. But I guess..." He pauses, and she knows there's more than just courtesy to come. "When someone holds your whole life in their hands, you don't exactly wanna cross them. I guess he scared the shit out of me for a long time, still kinda does, I didn't wanna get too casual in case I ended up somewhere worse than the bunker. He's the one who put me there, y'know?"
She sighs; she'd thought in some way that might be the reason.
"Casey's... tough. He's unquestioning about his orders, he's incredibly loyal. But I think he also does this job to do what's right. To him, of course. The bunker is asset protocol, and Casey stuck to it. His problem was he should've realized you, the Intersect, none of that is normal, so normal protocol should never have factored into your handling. But for all his faults, and there are a ton... today I felt like I got through to him, a little, about all of this. I'm not saying he's warmed up, but we all know about the secrets they're hiding from us, him too, whatever those are. He knows the agencies aren't being truthful to him, and I hope he's the kind of agent who will disregard protocol, orders, when those giving the orders aren't being transparent." Chuck nods at that, and she idly wonders if they'll ever learn the truth about all of this. But they have more immediate concerns, newer issues to deal with. "Don't let Casey power trip you, okay? He can't do anything now, not with me here too. He's your handler, not your boss. He's just like me."
"Oh, I doubt that," Chuck drawls softly, and she looks at him, surprise blooming on her face. And he looks back at her, blinking a beat too, before he cracks a smile. "I don't think he'd bring me chocolate croissants for breakfast."
She giggles, shaking her head as they pull into the bunker parking lot and slow to a stop underground- though not as far under as Chuck is soon to be, back in his quarters, isolated yet again. The sooner they can get out of here, the better. He looked so much more at home with that afternoon light beaming over him.
"Well, we're gonna have to get used to him being around a lot more, either way," she carries on, and he nods.
"Yeah. But now I know it's in preparation for heading back home. Which is just..."
She grins.
"Yeah." And then she reaches out, squeezing his arm yet again, a habit she can't seem to stop now. Catching his eye, she nods her head toward the exit. "C'mon, we should get in. We still have files to get through, and Beckman and Graham are gonna want a lot of flashes to prove we can do this."
Nodding, he takes a beat, then suddenly clears his throat, slaps his cheeks, and ruffles his hair all at once. She raises an eyebrow, bemused, and he looks at her with a shrug.
"Gotta warm up."
God, there is nobody else like him.
Shaking her head, she gets out of the car, muttering a soft "Nerd" under her breath. She pretends she doesn't feel the sheer affection in the word, and, decidedly ignores the somehow very clear knowledge that saying it at all just shows how far she's come with this man. How far she's gone. Such affection, for this nerd under her charge.
But that affection, that change, it's there all the same. And some day, she knows, she might have to face it.
note: Oh hey Beckman and Casey. Fun times. Please review!