Dr Jonas Zarnow hated being the bearer of bad news. Especially when said news was delivered to his 'real' employer, Ted Roark. With each step he took towards Roark's personal office, the beads of sweet grew thicker, ran a little faster. Roark wasn't someone who took kindly to bad news, no matter how great or small.

In front of him stood his employer's door, decorated by a plaque which read Ted Roark. Taking a deep calming breath, he straightened his lab jacket and knocked on the door thrice. Seconds later, he was let inside.

Ted Roark. The man who built Roark Instruments from the ground up. In the beginning RI was merely a dream, mixed with an idea that he stole from his college roommate. Now it was one of the largest international corporations, with operations spread across the globe. Furthermore, it was one of the biggest US Federal Government contractors and received a 7% share of Pentagon contract funds (second only to that of Lockheed Martin). And unbeknownst to the world, he was also the figurehead of a rather small but rapidly growing group of disgruntled federal agents and military officials who weren't happy with how the US government was handling things. An increasingly powerful organization with incredible financial backing and connections to most, if not all the notable three-letter agencies.

"Yes." Ted said in his usual carefree tone. Sitting at his desk, he sifted through different files on his laptop.

Zarnow found it difficult to speak, so he took another deep breath and tried to clear his throat. He hated it. Even though it wasn't his fault, it was always him going to Roark. Getting reprimanded for the mistakes he never made. It wasn't fair to him.

There was a time when he used to be a good person.

A man of science. A man of knowledge. A man of wisdom.

When it first happened, he had no idea what was going on. He sold some crucial government secrets to North Korea and China. He thought it was a government-assigned mission. He had official orders from the NSA. His superior, Doctor Busgang, had repeatedly assured him he was actually helping his agency and this was a sting. But all of it turned out to be a huge fat lie and Busgang revealed he was a FULCRUM agent. Unfortunately, there was no way for Zarnow to inform the authorities; had he tried to, he would have been decreed a traitor and suffered the consequences that came with such an action, whereas the real culprit would have walked away scot-free.

He wanted to retaliate, to rebel, to fight back. But he couldn't find it in himself to do so. He needed to think about his family. His wife. His daughter.

Eventually, it became easier for him to accept his unwanted position and he got used to the perks that came with it. In order to become a hero to his family, he needed to become a traitor to his country. Instead of solving the problem, he became part of it and now he had no other option but to live with that.

To live as a pawn for FULCRUM.

"Speed this up, Zarnow. I have a launch party to attend in an hour."

Zarnow summoned the bravery needed to speak. "There have been some new... developments... regarding the Intersect."

Roark cocked a brow. "New developments?"

"An engineer working for the NGA has developed technology... which can access and utilize the data inside Anderson's PDA and put it in a CIPHER."

"Interesting." Roark attempted to remain calm. "What kind of technology?"

Zarnow swallowed hard. "We have no idea. But General Beckman is impressed enough that she has ordered me to surrender all of my old research to the NGA. They are planning to shift the Intersect to a secure site which our sources have no knowledge of."

With a stern facial expression, Roark stood up and slammed his palms on the desk. His cold, ruthless eyes zeroed in on Zarnow, who felt the sensation of being pierced by daggers. "Am I the only one who understands the importance of that computer? What it means for the entire world's future? What it means for FULCRUM's future?"

"No, Sir. " Zarnow said, starting to feel a bit startled. "We all do."

"Fantastic." Roark chuckled, his voice filled with venomous sarcasm. "Tremendous. You are all sorry, so apologetic. You feel really bad. Well now, that makes up for your incompetence, doesn't it?"

"Not to undermine the importance of having the Government Intersect, but we have achieved quite the breakthrough at our Meadow Branch."

"Of course. Of course." Roark nodded. "I had Tommy recruit Anderson and have him break into the Government Intersect facility only because I wanted to see whether or not it could be stolen. It wasn't like we needed it in the first place."

"I am terribly sorry."

The best thing Zarnow could do was admit defeat and simply agree with everything his employer said thereon.

"I am not without compassion, Zarnow." Roark crossed his arms. "I have always seen much potential in you, much promise. Bravery too. You are never afraid to approach me when our missions go awry. So I am offering you a window of opportunity. A chance to walk away."

Zarnow turned his head, stunned by his words. "What do you mean by that?"

"Right now, the PDA is kept under the watchful eyes of the NSA." Roark continued, approaching him in an ominous way, truly becoming the dark side of his conscience. "Even if the NGA is about to take over the project, their engineer must meet up with you, at least once or twice. All you need to do is bring him / her to us alongside the tech they are using to utilize the Government Intersect. Besides, our agents will be there to help you at all times. You won't even need to lift a finger. Once you successfully complete this assignment, you are free to walk away from everything. You and your family will be granted safe passage to Dubai. You will be rewarded with more money than most people have ever dreamed of. Furthermore, RI will set up a new business for you, which won't have any connections with my extracurricular activities."

This was making Zarnow very uncomfortable. It felt ominous. It felt like Roark was trying to mold him into something. Now, if he had an opportunity to leave all this behind and wipe the slate clean, he needed to act quickly.

"If you would excuse me, I am going to try and see if I can find out more about this operation."

"Very well. Best of luck to you." Roark replied as Zarnow exited his office. Taking a long breath, he walked over to the windows behind his desk. His hands clasped behind his back, he stared out at the morning sun peeking above the LA skyline. Failing to secure the Intersect at the first time of asking was a huge setback, no two ways around it. But discovering there was someone working for the government who knew how to utilize the handiwork of Stephen Bartowski...

Perhaps, there might be a silver lining hidden within this dark cloud after all.

...xxxxxxx...xxxxxxx...

The entire place was crowded, everyone bouncing under the flashing lights. Arms, elbows and sometimes humans themselves moved back and forth in random directions, moving to their own beat. There was a reason why the dance floor scared Chuck much more than any training simulation he had been through. Part of it was thanks to his former trainer / ex-girlfriend Lou Palone. Despite being a consummate professional and a kick-ass Federal Agent, she happened to be one of the most energetic dancers he had ever met. Yeah, he could admit that in spite of knowing who his sister's boyfriend was. Sometimes, when they went to the club together, more often than not he found her dancing the night away. With her eyes closed and mouth firmly set, she was poetry in motion, setting the dance floor on fire, as well the poor hearts of male clubgoers and her geeky boyfriend.

Even so, he had to admit Sarah Walker clearly matched her in that department. She had turned the entire floor into an inferno, moving with a level of grace and speed that made damn near everyone else look like amateurs. If it wasn't for the military-grade training regime he went through in order to improve his endurance and overall body control, it would have been impossible to keep up with her. Many guys tried to dance with her but she was just... impossible to match, her moves belying a stamina and agility beyond anyone else in the club.

Chuck, on the other hand, followed the same lessons Lou taught him; he let go of his insecurities and fears, focusing purely on his beautiful companion. He jumped when she did, waved his arms about when she did, slid in her direction, twisting and shaking his body to match her movements. Once he ascertained her beat, he had no trouble keeping up with her. That said, doing so without accidentally hitting someone mid-dance was harder than using the Intersect to dodge a barrage of ping pong balls. At least he did a good job of disguising the fact it took a great deal of conscious effort on his part.

He thought he finally found his groove... at least until Sarah suddenly changed pace and slid her backside against his groin. Holy hell, he wasn't expecting that. Chuck's brain immediately went into DEFCON 1 as his cheeks started heating up, fearing she'd think he was some sort of creep. Thankfully, she simply laughed at seeing him all embarrassed and nervous, which gave him the courage to continue dancing with her.

...xxxxx...xxxxxx...

There were a few more drinks and many dances until the music stopped, the regular lights came on and they were forced to leave. He was really startled to realize it was now four in the morning. Several beers had left him feeling a bit fuzzy, warm and slightly uncoordinated.

He wondered if Ellie would be happy to hear about this.

They made it outside the club and Chuck decided to stick around until she found her car in the parking lot, which happened to be a gleaming black Porsche convertible. It felt great to see at least one of his friends was living the sort of life he wanted for himself. Despite spending much of the night together, they hadn't talked much after their initial conversation. To her credit, Sarah had tried to converse with him after that, but the loud music had made that all but impossible. So this was the second time they had a real chance to exchange dialogue.

"I want to thank you for giving me a chance to relax and let my hair down... for a while." Chuck nervously tapped his feet on the floor while Sarah grinned at him. "It was nice to... just have fun and spend time with you. Even though it's been a long time since we met."

"I bet it was." Sarah looked up at him with a stern expression on her face. "That ass grabbing was not at all what I meant when I told you we needed to catch up. You've changed a lot in the last five years, Chuck. I thought you were a gentleman."

Chuck's face fell as he paled in horror and panic.

"I d-didn't... I never... I mean... it... wasn't..." He stammered only to stop when he saw Sarah grinning widely at him. Chuck looked at her uncertainly for a moment before the realization hit him. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"Yep." She said and laughed, giving his shoulder a light nudge. "Don't be upset though. I had a really great time with you as well. I don't say this to guys very often, but you definitely had the moves tonight."

"I am glad to hear that." Chuck remarked in a jovial tone. "So what do you do nowadays, Sarah? Still working for that company in Sweden? And the whole witness protection thing... is that still happening?" he added with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Though I have more leeway than I used to." Sarah trailed off rather awkwardly, taking her key card out of her purse. "For the last three and a half years I've been working as a troubleshooter of sorts for the TFI. The government has me flying all over the world to collect and analyze information about the abuse of the financial system for illicit activities and how can we prevent that from happening. I am officially living in DC though."

Granted that wasn't the complete truth, but she felt this overwhelming need to offer him some modicum of truth. Besides, she did work with the people involving a particular agency on a regular basis, at the beginning of her career. She was scary good regarding subjects involving money and business. She was trained by one of the greatest white-collar thieves to ever exist in US history and her grades at Harvard spoke for themselves. FinCEN wanted to keep her but Graham had a certain career path for her in mind and once she was given her Red Test, there was no going back.

The CIA thought they turned her into an obedient, cold, ruthless, bloodthirsty assassin; more often than not, she let them think that way but unbeknownst to everyone else, that was just a con she pulled on them. What they didn't know and would never know, was that every night she fell asleep and every morning she woke up, Sarah would always take a few minutes off to reflect upon herself, thinking about the normal life she wanted and needed, but couldn't have until she fulfilled her obligations to the CIA.

Four years have passed. Just two more to go.

"I c-can't believe it. You are FININT." Chuck stared at her in awe and disbelief. "That's really cool. No wonder you own a Porsche. Congratulations. I always knew you would be out there doing something amazing." He let out a low whistle, reaching over and giving her a friendly pat on the shoulders. "You are like a female Jack Ryan."

Sarah wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or disheartened about the comparison with a fictional spy. Especially when she lived in that sort of everyday. Perhaps, to someone like Chuck, that might be an exciting prospect but seeing or reading stuff like that... just wore her down.

"No, I am not." She said quickly, staring at him with sad solemn eyes that immediately drew him in. For a moment, just a second, he thought about reaching out and closing the distance between them. His self discipline kept him from doing anything stupid. "Please don't treat me any differently because of that. It's just like any other job out there."

"I will keep that in mind, Sarah." He said with a bright smile.

"You better." A beautiful smile graced her face as she continued, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. At first Chuck had this outrageous thought that she might be blushing, then he immediately shrugged that off. There was no way in hell this beautiful, elegant and amazing woman had any interest in him beyond friendship. At the end of the day, he was just a mid-level GEOINT Analyst who only received Federal Agent training thanks to the computer stuck inside his head. While she was a FININT special operative with a level 4 security clearance. By professional standards alone, she was way above his league. As the silence between them continued, he couldn't help but fidget.

Thankfully, Sarah was the first one to break the silence.

"So why don't you come by my place? I still don't know the whole story behind you getting your degree back and joining the NGA." She offered with a cheerful smile.

"I really hate to bring this up... but I need to report at Fort Belvoir 8 o'clock sharp." Chuck remarked apologetically. "I wish I could call in sick or something like that but I have some... important reports to make." He concluded with a smile, trying to move past the sudden awkwardness which had crept up between them.

"Oh come on! All work and no play is going to make you a dull nerd." Sarah playfully smacked his shoulder.

"Look, I will make it up to you." Chuck began awkwardly. "In honor of... our positions within the government and me getting my degree back, even though it's been a couple of years, would you like to go out for dinner? I can tell you the crazy story about how I got recruited by the NGA and take that prickly self-righteous provost down a peg or two."

"I would like that. Pick me up at 7:30." She said happily, grinning like she hadn't for ages.

"Forgive me if you find the food terrible tomorrow. Crappy coffee machine at my office nearly destroyed my taste-buds." Chuck teased which caused Sarah to laugh. It felt great to see that despite all these big changes in his life, Chuck didn't change that much. However, before she could talk further, he started heading in a different direction, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

"Where do you think you are going?" She pondered. Chuck stammered for a moment as he tried to decide what he was going to say next.

"Uh... home. I thought we were meeting at 7:30." Chuck responded.

"You don't know where I live. You don't have my number. So how do you expect to find me?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Ha! That's a good question!" He chuckled nervously.

Sarah took out a folded note from her purse and scooted closer to him until Chuck could feel her breath gently tickling his earlobe. In his ear, she whispered, "Call me and let me know when you are available."

Chuck almost winced at the way those seductive, honeyed and barely audible words echoed inside his head. He figured that his blonde friend was trying to give him a heart attack. He looked at her questioningly. His thoughts were a bit scattered but he also found his inhibitions lowered. He took a long breath and looked at her. She seemed slightly nervous, yet she was also staring at him with adornment. He could feel the warmth of her skin, smell the subtle fragrance of her perfume and see the shade of her lipstick, despite the darkness. As if he had suddenly activated night-vision abilities.

Get a grip on yourself, Chuck. It's not like you're out on a date or something. Besides, she was just playing a joke on you. No need to go all Edward Cullen on her. Damn! I gotta stop reading those cheesy romantic novels Awesome gave me.

Sarah looked up at him with a confident smile. His eyes were locked with hers, she felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest and her mind almost went blank.

Okay, just wait a bit and he will kiss you. Have some patience.

"So..." Chuck cleared his throat and moved his face slightly away from hers, albeit with visible effort. "I really gotta get going. I barely have a couple of hours to take a power nap." He added weakly. She had just come out of a long relationship and wanted to confide in him as a friend, but for some reason all he could think was how unbelievably attractive she was. He really needed to purge those stupid fantasies from his brain and get his act together before they met for dinner. He couldn't dishonor their friendship by acting like a giddy teenager with a silly crush.

What? Are you serious, Chuck? It took much of her training not to openly gape at him in shock.

"I will... look forward to tomorrow evening." He gave her a quick hug, then turned around and left.

Five long years and... still the same clueless idiot he was back then.

Silently fuming, she kicked a pebble to the side and got inside the car.