Warning: A little bit of this author's smutty side comes out in this chapter.

...xxxxxx...xxxxx...xxxxxxx...

Jill was lost. That was how she felt. Despite being around her sorority sisters and all sorts of popular people on the campus, she felt vacant and hollow. She seemed to have lost any common ground she had with her friends. Only Chuck could fill the empty void in her life. But after spending the previous night with Bryce, she felt dirty and unworthy of his affection. However, she still kept daydreaming about him, continued to fantasize about all the time they spent together. She paid no attention to what her pompous sorority sisters were talking about on the breakfast table. Perhaps once this whole affair was over, she would beg for his forgiveness and he might take her back after learning why she pretended to break up with him and seduced Bryce. She couldn't bear to even imagine that Chuck might not resume their relationship at all.

She heard a loud knock on the door, breaking her train of depressing thoughts. She quickly opened the door as she was already expecting this person to show up sooner or later.

"Miss Roberts, please don't make things more difficult than they already are." Said person was Professor George Fleming, the CIA recruiter on their campus and the man who helped Bryce to destroy Chuck's career.

"I am not asking for much, Professor. Just do your thing and make sure Chuck is proven innocent in the end. That's the only way out for you," Jill replied in a firm tone. She was in no mood to negotiate with this man, believing she was the one who held all the cards. Making a show of the cell phone in her hand, she added, "Otherwise you know full well what I am capable of."

"I can't do that, Miss Roberts. The CIA Director wants him expelled at all costs. If I were to try and save him, it might not only ruin my whole career but my entire life as well. I tried to play nice with you – I really did – but it seems you can't take no for an answer. Well then, maybe it's about time I gave you something to cope with your boyfriend's situation. Perhaps a greater purpose in life," he explained with a crooked smile.

Jill was taken aback upon seeing his sudden change in attitude, but only when he removed a syringe from his front pocket did she realize something was very wrong with this situation. Before she could scream, he lunged forward and plunged the syringe into the side of her neck. As her eyesight faded, Fleming took out his cell phone to make a call. Her hearing lasted a little longer, allowing her to hear him talk; his words seemed simple and harmless, yet they carried an ominous undertone.

"I just found you a promising recruit for your cause, Bernie. Make sure to take good care of her. She is the daughter of your best friend after all."

...xxxxxxxxxx...xxxxxxxxxx...

Kissing was an art Chuck had slowly become familiar with; during his relationship with Lou, rarely a day passed without the exchange of at least a dozen lip locks. She initiated most of them to start with, but eventually he became just as proactive. As confused as that woman made him – even well after their breakup – he privately enjoyed her passionate and enthusiastic nature. His primal side, which he kept at bay more often than not, always appreciated when she initiated things like that more often.

Right now, that side of him was winning over the more logical, rational side of his brain. So much now that he fully lost himself in the sensations, focusing his entire being into returning the kiss Sarah gave him as best as he could with his own arms encircling her to hold her close.

After a long moment (which felt short), he dazedly opened his eyes, a part of him realizing he was slowly being led backwards and blinked to find himself at the edge of the fancy-looking bed.

"S-Sarah..." He breathed out as the higher functions of his brain were still in the process of rebooting.

"Shh..." She quieted him, and he found himself sitting and looking up at her. Some of her magnificent platinum blonde hair spilled over his body.

With that, she gracefully undid her robe and let it fall onto the floor.

And just like that, his mind crashed. She was wearing a translucent negligee with bra and panties. It was really funny. Lou had modeled for him and even paraded naked a few times to get a rise from him after he moved in with her. At first, such overtures had incited his embarrassment greatly, but over time, he slowly got somewhat used to her nature and became less bashful.

And yet, that feeling had returned in full now that Sarah was doing the same thing.

Chuck twitched, only being able to register her warmth, softness and sweet scent as she brought him closer to her, feeling completely and utterly content as his head was pulled into her bosom. It was no wonder he never felt his back hit the bed as she gently moved to straddle him, leaning down to kiss him once again.

She moaned as the kiss deepened once again. Their touches became more frantic and rough with each passing moment, grasping at the other with a need which couldn't be satisfied without feeling every inch of the other's body. More sensitive areas were touched, which would elicit a moan of pleasure from the owner.

However, as things started getting more intense and the sensuous ministrations on Sarah's side started becoming more meaningfully directed towards certain areas, his mind suddenly snapped back into the game as logic blared its alarm and began to beat those primal instincts back.

He had experienced sex before. Whilst it was an incredibly pleasant experience, it was nothing new.

"Sarah," he began, regaining some semblance of control over his actions whilst struggling to fight all the gratifying sensations threatening to overwhelm him. All he could see right now was her leaning over him. The left strap of her matching bra had fallen to the side of her arm, enough to expose more of her breast and areola as a hardened nipple did its best to hold the fabric from covering it back up.

"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" Sarah asked, breathing raggedly as if she was running out of air. Her face was flushed from the rush of emotions she felt.

"I am sorry." Chuck took a deep calming breath, which proved enough to regain his control. "It's... It's just too soon." His hands rose to gently take a hold of her shoulders, slightly stunning her by bringing her close to hug her. "I am sorry, Sarah. But it's not a good idea to mess around when it comes to sex. Someone close to me... got hurt... in the past with this. And I refuse to let you find yourself in the same predicament–" He was silenced by a finger placed on his lips.

Sarah smiled softly at him, leaning her head against her shoulder and nuzzled him. "Shh... I know what you mean. But..." She averted her gaze for a moment. "I just... wanted to show that I am really happy... being here with you," she said vulnerably.

"It's okay," he said, finally free from the spell he had been under a few moments ago. With that, he admitted something he was positive his past self would never have said aloud. "I like you, Sarah. I like you a lot."

"You do?"

"Yup, absolutely."

"Then, why?"

He closed his eyes and opened them, fighting back the disappointment that a large part of him felt right now. Steadying his breath, he then motioned his hand to encompass them, the bed, the room. "We should actually, you know, go on a real date with each other. Get to know each other as people." He finally met her eyes as she looked at him agape. "Let's figure out what we honestly mean to each other. What our priorities are in regards to... this chaotic situation we're living in. We'll have plenty of time to fuck each other's brains out once we've done that."

Sarah looked as if she was trying make up her mind about something. She looked from right to left, apparently unsure how to proceed. There was nothing but growing reticence between the two of them at the moment. Chuck grew slightly nervous. However, she cupped his cheek with her hand, giving him a genuine, tinged-with-sadness smile, instead of the chipper and playful one she had upon arriving in this room.

"I am sorry, Chuck... but we can't do that."

Those words hit Chuck harder than the ass-whooping Mauser inflicted on him. At least physical pain was temporary and something he had gotten used to due to the intense training regime he went through. Moments like this – like when Lou broke up with him before she eventually disappeared from his life – felt a million times worse. This was a problem he had since childhood. Whenever someone called him names and/or denied him anything he felt he rightfully deserved, it always felt like being beaten to the verge of death. Sarah's denial was no exception. For a while, he remained silent, contemplating how to respond.

"What do you mean by that?" Chuck gasped. He wanted to make sure he was hearing right.

"We can't be... the sort of couple you want us to be, Chuck," Sarah repeated in a whisper.

"I wouldn't have asked you that if I didn't like you, Sarah. You were the one who pushed me into... embracing these feelings in the first place." Though Chuck tried his best to mask the hurt, he was sure some pain had leaked through his voice.

"I really can't thank you enough for listening to me. But you literally having the Intersect in your head... changes things."

"W-why?" Despite his best efforts, Chuck's voice cracked. Given the way she had been acting around him, what she just said and expressed to him moments ago, he felt she really liked him. But now everything was spinning out of control. He was totally confused.

"Chuck, I will say this again. I care about you, I really do. But with you becoming the most valuable intelligence asset to ever exist and with everything I've endured in my personal and professional lives, it's just too much on my lap. Be reasonable, Chuck. We are in an extremely delicate position right now. We just have to redefine our relationship as time goes on."

Chuck suddenly found himself getting angry. Very angry. Unbeknownst to Sarah, those were the same words his former girlfriend told him right before the day they broke up.

"That's bullshit, Sarah," he snapped. "We both know it."

"I know you are not used to rejection, but hey, who is?" Sarah attempted to pacify him with a kind smile, leaning in to kiss him on his cheek. "Please don't see this as such. I just need some time to think how to work my way around this tenuous situation. I admit your current position within the NGA... and your unique skill set prevents you from being considered an asset, but you have no idea how determined Beckman and Graham are to have you on their side. There are no rules regarding this situation, which makes it even more dangerous and unpredictable." She fought to keep her voice from breaking.

"You don't seem to get it, Chuck. I am trying to have the very most I can have with you. Of course I want more than sex. The truth is, I want to be in that kind of relationship much more than you do. But I am a CIA agent. I have a duty to uphold, which is to keep you safe and sound at all times. And now they want me to bring you on missions to test your ability to utilize the Intersect. Given how smart and incredible you are, I really need to concentrate on doing my job. I simply can't allow myself to become compromised. We can still be friends with benefits, at least for the time being." Sarah took a long pause to gather her composure.

Chuck tamped down his anger and frustration and tried to stay focused. Sarah wouldn't take him seriously if he started yelling at her. A part of him couldn't help but wonder if she would still hide behind protocols, rules, guidelines, orders and whatever else she could come up with if she learned of his true nature and everything he went through for the past two years.

He clearly understood that being the G Intersect host caused some major, overwhelming changes in his life. Nonetheless, he believed that a couple was supposed to accept who they really were to each other. If she couldn't even trust him to help overcome all these complications they were facing right now, how could he possibly find it in himself to entrust her with his own secrets? Sure, revealing the O Intersect would cause her to view him in an entirely new light. However, he really didn't feel like resorting to such cheap methods and demeaning his father's greatest innovation, something he managed to create only after ten years of hard work.

The plain truth was that he needed more from her. Sex felt like an exciting prospect, but it also felt like a cop out on her part. Yet pressing her for commitments and demanding things she wasn't emotionally prepared for would be detrimental. Trust wasn't exactly her strength. What made him genuinely scared was the fact she didn't trust even him, the man she supposedly liked, to help make it work as a real couple. It was risky opening up to someone who could hide behind protocols, rules and guidelines. Still, she already admitted to him it was more than a job to her, and she wanted the same thing he did. At least that set her apart from how her peers might have reacted in a tricky assignment like that.

Don't get attached... Don't become friends... Don't fall in love... Or you won't be able to finish the job.

That was the motto Roan Montgomery taught. He taught it to him, he taught it to Lou, he probably taught it to Sarah as well. And as far as he knew, most operatives took his words to heart. But Sarah didn't... at least as far as he was concerned. Perhaps there was hope for their situation.

He found himself wishing he had some way to contact his ever-elusive deadbeat father and hear his advice. What do I do, old man? Can I really trust her with... our secrets?

Sarah looked at him from the corners of her eyes and noticed he had not moved an inch. Chuck seemed lost in thought, with a look of sadness and disappointment on his face. It sent a sharp stab through her heart, knowing she caused it. She hated to see him sad like that. It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to give in to the temptation of pursuing a relationship with him, like she originally intended to. But she simply couldn't go into this all willy-nilly and ride off into the sunset with him, even though her heart and soul yelled at her for not chancing it. Real life simply didn't work that way for people like her. However, the lines between them were already blurred; she just couldn't find it in herself to see him as just a friend. Granted, there might be no official rules regarding this situation, but if her superiors were to discover what truly motivated her to take this assignment, the consequences might be quite severe on her end. That was her biggest fear. She'd rather prolong her stay in his life as much as she possibly could, than risk it all on a whim and lose the chance to be with him altogether.

He shook his head slowly, a deep sigh passing through his lips as he continued. "Regardless of what you and our bosses think, I am not some damsel in distress who needs to be protected from everything. I am capable of defending myself and I can easily learn from you or anyone else willing to teach me how to handle myself on the field if it comes to that. Still, I really appreciate the fact you are being honest about your feelings. That counts for something."

"Something?" Sarah sighed, clearly frustrated upon seeing how the atmosphere changed between them. "It should be everything, Chuck."

"I dunno, maybe I guess." Chuck admitted quietly, placing his hands in his pockets, "But like I said before, I will take what I can get. As long as you are willing to do right... by us." He nodded towards the end. He looked a bit unsure of himself but Sarah could feel he was trying to be sincere.

"Thanks," she whispered to him with a warm smile, giving him a satisfied nod. "There is a place for you in the bed too, you know?"

A shiver ran up his spine upon hearing that question. He looked at her as she extended her hand towards him, eagerly waiting for him to take it. "Well, how can I refuse when you put it like that?" he sweetly replied, taking hold of her hand as they buried themselves under the cover, comfortably laying side by side. Chuck was surprised to see her putting his arm around her waist so that her back was pressed against his chest as if she wanted him to spoon her, like a real girlfriend. It was extremely dangerous territory he was about to enter. Perhaps he made a huge mistake and things might never grow beyond sex, or there was a chance... he could push her into attempting to have something real. Perhaps he was just over analyzing stuff and he just had to let this situation play out before he could make up his mind about revealing everything pertaining to the O Intersect.

He carefully applied a kiss on the top of her head, then buried his face in her neck while a sigh of contentment escaped her lips. As they fell asleep, Chuck had one last thought.

Dear Lord, I am in deep trouble.

...xxxxxxxxxx...xxxxxxxxxx...

Being told by FULCRUM that the situation with Bartowski was now his responsibility alone gave him little comfort. As far as Roark knew, he was still doing his job. He highly doubted Beckman would allow such an individual to roam free and likely would have dropped him in some secure bunker, away from the prying eyes of other agencies and the likes of him. It felt good to have those worries not take as much space in his mind as they previously did.

Like his wife told him – as far as Bartowski was concerned, his hands were washed clean. It was now up to the NSA to do their job and for Roark to mess with them using his influence. He really wanted to push this matter as far from his mind as possible.

But he still needed to get his hands on something which could ensure his survival in this cloak and dagger business. Something which might prove to be worthwhile to Roark and pacify his anger about not getting his hands on the Intersect host. He didn't want to sound like a mere private going against the US Army.

Perhaps he could make a great contribution to FULCRUM's ongoing Intersect research; make himself appear indispensable to the organization using his intellectual prowess. In essence, he wanted to be in charge of the whole project, rather than being used as a mere snitch and errand boy. It was the only way to ensure his family's safety and well being. However, he also knew that was easier said than done.

He needed more help with his research. Busgang had been good with his neuroimaging formula but he wasn't someone whom he could rely on to help him out, since he was responsible for bringing him into FULCRUM's fold in the first place. He was boundlessly arrogant and always belittled his achievements in front of everyone. He needed someone who was more of an unconventional... genius. Someone who could think outside the box. And the only person who came to mind... was the accidental Intersect host. If he got his hands on Bartowski's notes and the program he used to access the database within the PDA, he could conduct his own research from a clean slate instead of – like Meadow Branch – working from a template. He could find a way to duplicate what happened to Bartowski, but in a much safer way.

Which brought him to his current predicament – he was sitting in his car, parked outside the residential complex Bartowski lived in. He wore a surgical mask and goggles to conceal his identity.

He wasn't usually a thief or a burglar, in spite of what he was about to do. It was for that young man's good, given what Roark had in mind for him. Besides, ever since he found those equations in that diary, he suspected Bartowski had figured something out about the Intersect. Something the likes of Busgang and his team of scientists couldn't. A missing link of sorts. He didn't know how or why but the moment he laid his eyes on those notes, he just knew that young man may have the answer.

He took out his NSA-issue dart gun, an upgraded version of what he used back in his field analyst days before he made the major mistake of accepting a full-time research position in the agency and falling into FULCRUM's clutches. He also carried a vial containing a special variant of LSD, widely used by female field operatives to interrogate their marks without their knowledge after successful seductions.

I hate doing this. But it's better than the alternative. He walked to the door, then knocked on it and rung the doorbell multiple times. However, no one answered. Zarnow began shaking with anxiety. In two hours, he had to go back and meet up with a squad Roark had arranged for him in order to capture the human Intersect. He didn't know what he could accomplish in such a short time. A part of him also feared the possibility Bartowski would agree to work with Roark in return for monetary gains and attention from a pretty face who would be more than happy to welcome him with open legs. In that case, FULCRUM would deem him obsolete; if Zarnow wanted to walk away from this business, he had to remain important to them till the very end.

After no one answered for a while, he took out a lock pick gun from his coat pocket and unlocked the door. Zarnow made his way carefully around the house. Carefully putting his latex gloves on, he quickly rummaged his way through anything and everything that could be of use. He even sifted through boxes and dirty shelves filled with cobwebs, knowing they were the most likely places a smart man would hide things he wanted to remain secret; yet he found nothing. His search led him to the basement; he found nothing there either.

However, thanks to his heavy rummaging, the bottom of the wooden stairs which led him downstairs collapsed. He cursed under his breath, then made to pick the loose wood up and throw it away. That was the moment he found something taped underneath. Now that intrigued him. A clever lad like Bartowski went to great lengths to hide this, which meant it was something really important. It appeared to be a small diary, strikingly similar to the one he discovered earlier. But the equations within seemed completely out of this world, the likes of which he had never seen, even compared to what he read in Bartowski's notes. Given his own limited knowledge and vast experience, he could tell they were connected to each other in some strange form. Like he was modifying and improving them for a certain purpose. It almost perplexed him.

BRAIN IMAGE INTERACTION AT GENETIC LEVEL.

Upon reading those words, Zarnow started getting goosebumps. He was clearly astounded by what he just read. It seemed similar, yet different compared to the original Intersect project he assisted Orion and Hartley with. How the hell did someone like Bartowski manage to get his hands on stuff like that? And why was he studying such unusual experiments in the first place?

At the same time, he couldn't help but feel happier than he ever felt before. No wonder the NSA wanted Bartowski so badly. What he had found here, in his house, was just unbelievable. This was a true masterpiece. With these notes, he could easily figure out how to fill the missing puzzle pieces in the Intersect research.

"What else is the NGA is hiding about you, Bartowski?" Zarnow felt pretty good about himself – actually, he felt pretty good about everything – when a smoke grenade crashed through the window, followed by a gunshot. The unexpected assault was more than enough to send him stumbling down the floor. Disoriented and frightened, Zarnow looked up as the stinging smoke from the grenade started impairing his vision and breathing as well. A towering figure, wearing a gas mask and dressed in military attire swiftly approached and aimed a KGP-9 at him.

"What the hell is going on?" Zarnow grew fearful as the muscular yet extremely agile figure closed the gap between them.

"Hello Doctor..." The hulking figure grinned at him, though most of his face remained hidden behind the mask. "To answer your question, Carmichael built himself a watch. A very nice one at that. I wish I could gift something like that to my daughter." He gave out a loud laugh.

"T-that squirt! He had been wearing a bug on him the whole time. That must have... recorded everything he said back then." Zarnow's eyes widened in realization as the man grabbed him by his collar, slamming him against the wall.

"Well, I don't think it was intentional on his part; otherwise we would have gotten to the interesting part much sooner. Never mind. Tell me – who exactly do you work for? Did you tell anyone about what happened to Carmichael?" The towering figure responded in a serious tone, holding the business end of a knife at his throat before Zarnow could scream.

"I haven't told anyone. Not that I ever... intended to," he said adamantly. "I was pushed... pressured by the one man who has bullied and threatened me countless times into serving a certain special access group within the Intelligence Community. A man whose name I cannot utter for fear of the consequences that I and everyone else involved in my life would suffer. And even he is nothing compared to the kind of threat they pose."

The hulking figure's grip menacingly tightened around his neck. "Everybody talks, Dr Zarnow. You know that better than anyone else."

"But I am done talking, officer. Trust me, once you find out the truth behind this organization, you will wish you hadn't. Utilizing the Intersect is the only way to put an end to all this madness," he said sadly with no other explanation as he brought his wedding ring close to his mouth.

Before the military man could understand the meaning behind Zarnow's cryptic actions, the rogue scientist's legs buckled and his upper body fell towards the ground.

...xxxxxxx...xxxxxx...xxxxxxx...

"Desperate, Theodore. That is the only word I can use to describe you right now." Sat in one of his luxurious villas, Augusto Gaez spoke in his usual deep voice, quite amused by what his American acquaintance was saying on the phone.

"So let me get this straight. Not only did you fail to assassinate or capture Mrs Anderson like you promised, you now want my men to help you spy on some zit-faced nerd," he muttered dryly as he pressed a Cuban cigar to his lips. "For your kind information, I am not running some babysitting business."

"Gaez... I promise you a substantial amount of money in return," a restless Roark stated.

"Call me paranoid, Roark, but I am starting to think you want my folks to handle this issue because you are wary of interference from Uncle Sam. I may have contacts in various agency field offices and can manipulate a few senators like puppets, but do you really think I want to have the federal agencies constantly on my ass? What if my people risk being caught and flipped to the other side?"

"I assure you no such thing would happen, Augusto. I assure you..."

"Ted... Ted... Ted..." A disappointed Gaez sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are slipping, my friend. There was a time when you had the balls to do something yourself. And now your supposedly best squad couldn't even deal with a CIA skank on their own. I am not sure the RING should continue doing business with FULCRUM if you folks don't get your shit together soon." Gaez placed his cigar on the ashtray, continuing in a careless tone, "Uncertainty and desperation, as I've told you many times, hold no value in our business."

"Now you wait a second, Gaez. I have done a lot on my end for you. Don't you dare suggest that FULCRUM has grown weak! You have no idea what we are truly capable of."

"Oh, really?" a stunned Gaez replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems your memory is a little faulty nowadays. Wasn't it I that helped you build that impressive business empire of yours? I understand you're feeling frustrated because your pet bomber failed to do his job. Did it ever occur to you I am only trying to save you from further trouble? There is no need to spy on this puny... bomb disposal expert, analyst, Pinata or whatever this geek is called. So what if he used to be some big shot hacker? I can't afford to waste time on such nonsensical matters. I am busy running a worldwide crime network and I suggest you focus on conducting your own business as well."

There was no response from Roark's side, apart from heavy breathing. This only made Gaez's smile more pronounced.

"I am willing to give you one more chance to prove your worth. In future, if I ever encounter a potentially problematic situation, I will call you and you will not only listen to me, you will accomplish the task with finesse. That way, we can maintain this partnership."

"You dare..." Roark's voice rasped, "treat me like some LACKEY? You have no idea who you are dealing with, Gaez!"

A bored Gaez continued to ignore Roark's yelling as he shook his head in annoyance. The door to his room opened and an associate of his – a drop dead gorgeous beauty of Spanish descent – walked in. Gaez motioned her to sit down with a pleasant smile.

"Soon I will have power the likes of you have never witnessed," Roark finished.

"Anything else you might want to add, Theodore?"

"Make sure to keep this attitude once I have the Intersect within my grasp."

"Good. I was getting ready to fall asleep. You are way more effective than the Manhattan Cocktail my butler makes me everyday. Goodbye, Roark."

"You–!"

Gaez finally ended the call and looked at the pretty brunette sitting in front of him, taking her offered hand and grazing her knuckles with his lips, "You gotta look for the ones that know how to take the initiative and cut out the deadwood. Don't you agree, Miss Melena?"

Melena smirked, responding with a quick roll of eyes, "I feel your pain, Auggie."

"I see you have brought a gift for me."

Gaez opened the bag and began inspecting its contents. It appeared to be all cash. "Nice to see at least my associates haven't lost their edge."

"Just a small token of appreciation for helping me run a few operations smoothly last month."

After taking his share, Gaez returned the money bag. "There is a certain task I have in mind for you. But it might be a... little bit risky given your recent run in with MI6. So I think someone attached with the government might be more suitable for that assignment in particular."

"Don't worry about that, Auggie. I am a woman of action. I promise no harm, no foul. But only when necessary," she replied with a confident grin.

"Are you sure about that?" Gaez frowned slightly in response. "An international buyer has been asking for a tube of weapon-grade plutonium which is inserted into the frame of a certain painting. They are willing to pay much more than our usual rate, but you might need to deal with some unpleasant company if you go there."

"Eh. You have no idea how exhausted I get from schooling these so-called spooks. They have nothing on me." Melena laughed while Gaez just chuckled upon seeing her confidence.

"You do this and I will make sure you are not only compensated very handsomely, but I will help set up your drugs business as well."

"La Ciudad isn't one to let a friend down, Auggie!" a determined Melena concluded with a playful wink.