Chuck Versus the Birthday

By Steampunk . Chuckster

Summary: Agent Bryce Larkin's puzzling attempt to look up an old college friend after he disappears with U.S. Intelligence's top secret Intersect sends Larkin's betrayed partner Agent Walker to Echo Park, Los Angeles, California as Chuck Bartowski's birthday approaches. Slight AU of the pilot.

A/N: FIFTEEN YEARS, FOLKS! It's been fifteen years since this beautiful show's pilot premiered. And I gotta say, I've been having so many feelings about it all day, trying to edit the crap out of this the second I got home to post it in time to make the anniversary/birthday. (I made it, it's still Sept. 24th on the West Coast!) So happy birthday, CHUCK. You beautiful show about love and hope and passion and kindness. The spy stuff is secondary. Those freaking characters are gifts to television, and to us. To me, certainly. I love them all. I love the show's writers. I love the show's creators. I love the actors. I love everyone who touched it. Who made it come to life. And I'll continue writing for this fandom for as long as they bring me comfort. CHUCK is home. This show is home. And it always has been. Cheers, my friends. Thanks for still being here fifteen years after this wonderful, timeless show's series premiere, reading my fics. Here's to fifteen more years! (Yeesh. Haha!) Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK or its characters. I'm not making money posting this.


Agent Walker stopped just short of getting a football straight to the boob, and as she slowly turned, opening her mouth to absolutely destroy the asshole who threw it, her mark spun on his heels and snapped, "Hey! No! Not in here! Okay? There's a whole-ass grassy knoll out behind the building! Are you serious?!"

The two men looked like they were simply going to laugh at him for a moment, but then he continued, rigidly pointing his finger towards the door. "Out. You wanna face the wrath of Ellie Faye Bartowski if you break something in here? Really? You're willing to lay your lives on the line like that? No, I didn't think so. I didn't think so!" He raised his voice to call after them as their eyes went big and they staggered out of the apartment with the football in hand.

So apparently Chuck's sister was a force to be reckoned with. Agent Walker respected the hell out of that.

Chuck winced, gesturing for her to follow again. "Sorry. For as nice a guy as my sister's boyfriend is, sometimes his old pals from college make me question a lot of things about what he was like back then."

Sarah didn't respond, merely smiling politely as he sent her a grin over his shoulder, leading her to the kitchen.

She hadn't meant for the phone to go into the fountain. She hadn't meant for the mark to see it go in. She hadn't meant for him to practically dive to the rescue. And now his whole arm was drenched, and his shirtsleeve was as well, all the way up to his shoulder. She imagined the water wasn't all that clean either.

Either way, she hadn't wanted to be seen. And she felt so stupid for slipping into the party, allowing herself to be in his midst, because of course there was a chance he'd see her. They'd be forced into the same orbit somehow, and a meeting would happen… and now she had to figure out how to move forward.

"Listen, I'm really happy for you two, but I need to get into this drawer," he was saying to the men making out against the counter as he awkwardly stood off to the side, gesturing to the drawer. They ignored him, likely in their own little world, and she watched with no small amount of amusement as he cartoonishly reached behind one of them, muttering, "I'm not trying to touch your ass, okay? Know that. I just need my things from…the drawer…" He finally seemed to lose a little patience and he raised his voice with an, "Excuse me. Sirs? 'Scuse me. I need to get into my drawer in my own kitchen? Thank you."

They pulled back a bit and sent him perplexed looks. Then one of them looked down and blurted, "Oh. Sorry."

They shuffled out of the way, and Chuck went into the drawer, emerging with a paperclip and a small square microfibre cloth. He moved to the opposite counter and set his tools down, then meticulously uncoiled the paperclip. Sarah pressed in close to watch and he paused a bit, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows. She bit her lip and shifted a few inches away with a quiet, "Sorry. I'll give you your space."

"No, don't," he rushed out. And then he looked embarrassed, trying to chuckle it off. "I just mean I'm good. You…gave me enough…space. I'm just gonna…" And he pointed to the phone, turning back, a blush on his cheeks.

She felt a smile on her face as she studied his profile. His tongue poked through his lips and he narrowed his eyes. Still smiling, she lowered her gaze to watch him operate, sticking the paperclip into the side of her phone, causing the SIM card to pop out. He then carefully dabbed it with the cloth.

"Doesn't look like the SIM got wet, which is kind of a miracle. We'll see if it was saved, but it looks fine." He then reached into the pocket of his shirt, taking a tiny screwdriver out to take the back off of the phone. As he dried everything inside, she wondered who in the hell had a tiny screwdriver just hanging out in their shirt pocket? Sure, fixing things was his job, but…a screwdriver in his pocket?

Then again, she had to remind herself she had throwing knives strapped to various places on her body. Literally everyone else on Earth would find that pretty bizarre. Except for Bryce, maybe. He'd tried to make a game of finding them in the middle of a mission when they were hiding in a dark coat closet. Needless to say, he'd stopped when he found one against his cheek.

Sarah's smile dimmed a bit as she turned to lean the small of her back against the counter. She pushed Agent Larkin out of her mind, glancing over her shoulder at the way this I.T. geek handled her phone with a gentleness that she found made her ache a little.

…That was weird.

"Okay, more needs to be done. Think I have what we need somewhere in my room."

She'd had too much experience with men not to be a bit dubious as he led her out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards his bedroom. The same bedroom in which she'd heard him talking to his best friend about women looking right through him.

Here, lemme fix your phone, I've got something for it in my bedrooooom…

Agent Walker was prepared for just about anything as he opened the door with the "BEDROOM OFF LIMITS" sign taped to it and held it open for her to walk through. She walked through, watching as he stepped in after her and shut it behind him.

"Should we put it in rice or something?" she asked in the tense silence as he moved to set her phone on his surprisingly neat and organized desk.

"No, that's kind of a myth."

He didn't make any move towards her, no attempts to seduce or kiss her. Instead, he crossed the room to his closet, shouldering it open. She tried not to snoop, but then she reminded herself she was a spy and this was her mark. A traitor to the CIA, to U.S. Intelligence, to this country would likely be trying to make contact with this man in the coming days, and Sarah needed to snoop, damn it. She had bugs in this room after all, had hacked into his email account and into his phone to see who he was corresponding with. No worse snooping existed than that.

"We did an experiment at the Buy More, me and the other Nerd Herders—erm, that's-that's where I, erm, work," he added over his shoulder as he started rifling through his closet. Again, almost like he was a cartoon character, she saw various sneakers fly out behind him as he tossed them to look for…something. She didn't know what. "So we dropped old phones folks had traded in for new ones into water, about ten seconds, then took 'em out again. And we experimented with different methods to see what dried them out the fastest, what the most efficient way to save the phone was. You know. See which one we're able to extract the data from in one piece. Rice didn't cut it. I'm…looking for…" He kept rifling, and she heard a loud thump and a quiet, "ow" as half his body disappeared in the closet… And then a soccer ball rolled out.

"You…okay in there?"

"Yeah. Wasn't ready for that to fall on my head but I've had worse." Sarah couldn't help the giggle. "A-HA!"

Chuck crawled up from his knees to his full height, holding a brick-sized box. "Lord, please let me have not emptied this out," he sang under his breath as he rushed back over to the desk where he left her phone. He popped open the box and peeked inside. "Yes! Yes yes yes! Score!"

As he dumped the box's contents, the little white packets of weird crunchy stuff that always came with her new burner phones or other electronic devices the CIA supplied her with spilled out onto his desk.

"Um…okay?" she muttered.

Chuck laid out the microfibre cloth flat on the desk, then set the phone in the middle and dumped the packets on top. "These are silica gel. If you buy something like a cell phone or…as the case was here, a PSP Street…"

A whatnow?

"…Um, these get stuck in the box with it to protect the device from water damage and the like. You know, if it gets delivered through a storm or something. You get it. They suck moisture out of the air. Like little evaporation vacuums. They're great for this." He made sure the phone sat pillowed on a few of the packets, then arranged the rest over it.

"So that's what those packets are for…"

"Yeah!" He chuckled. There was nothing condescending or patronizing in it. "They'll suck the water out of your phone better than anything. And the rest should evaporate as it sits here. Only thing is, it might take a few hours." He winced. "I can lend you this stuff if you want to take it home with you…erm, well, not lend. I don't need these stupid little packets or the microfibre back. You can just…take 'em. Heh."

He bashfully scratched the back of his head.

And because she couldn't help it, she cocked her hip, tilting her head and looking at him through her eyelashes. "You kickin' me out of the party?"

"No! No, no. You don't have to go now. I didn't mean you're—You can stay. If you want. Oh. You know that. You're teasing me. Right." The way he made the "t" at the end click got a giggle out of her. He was fun to tease, and he didn't seem at all miffed about being teased, instead taking it with the humor with which it was intended.

He chuckled and shook his head. Then looked down at his shirt and arm. "Oh. Shit. I should change my shirt. Uh…"

Sarah paused, looking down at her phone. Sure it was just a burn phone, and Graham's number on the phone had no indication as to whom it would reach if it was dialed. But there were a few pictures of her with Bryce on there. And if her mark snooped while she was out of the room, he'd recognize his old college pal. Whether he was working with him to spirit away the Intersect or not, it'd be extremely suspicious if this random woman he'd never met before showed up at this party his sister threw and she knew this guy he'd gone to college with five years ago.

"Oh. Right. I'm…sure you're cold. With a wet shirt. I'll wait in the hall if…you wanna…" She shyly pointed towards the door and started backing towards it.

"Nah, nah. It's okay. It's just my shirt. I'll fix the problem real quick. You don't have to wait outside, that's…silly."

And he went to his closet, kicking the sneakers back towards it, shoving them and the soccer ball back inside, before he tugged a brown longsleeve shirt out along with a tan striped button-up, tossing both over his bed.

Before she could do or say anything, he reached back, grabbed at the green longsleeve shirt he'd had on and tugged it up, over his head, ruffling his hair in the process as he yanked it off.

Leaving his upper body totally bare.

She was no stranger to the male body, she'd seen it enough times now in her twenty-five plus years, and she'd felt it too. Which was why she was so shocked at herself for staring as long as she did. Even as he turned back to grab the clean, dry shirt.

Sarah finally peeled her eyes away and looked down at her phone, feeling a certain heat waft up from her blouse's collar and color her cheeks.

Ridiculous. This was ridiculous. All from a few minutes of him rescuing her burner phone, a quick shirt change, listening to a few days' worth of conversations with other people (and with himself), and from reading a dossier? Really?

She shook herself, commanded herself to focus.

"I really am sorry for the way those guys got outta hand out there, knocking you over and causing your phone to take a swim."

Sarah turned to see that he was pulling the first shirt down over his abdomen. Thank God. And also damn it.

"Oh, no. It isn't your fault."

"Well, kind of. I could've made 'em stop when I first saw them punching each other in the dick like a bunch'a morons earlier. After all, it's my party technically." She gave him a long look as he shrugged on the button up, buttoning it, shoving the sleeves up past his elbows. "I'm, um, I mean this is for me. And I live here. I'm…Chuck. The Chuck that this is all…for. In case you didn't know that."

"Right! Yeah…because it's your…"

"Birthday."

"Birthday," she said quickly. "Happy Birthday! By the way."

Wow, she'd missed that. His birthday was in the dossier. Was it already the eighteenth? Had she been listening in on his bedroom, scanning his emails and texts, for that many days already? This was his birthday party. God, she felt foolish.

Chuck shuffled his feet with a shy, "Heh. Um, yeah. Thank you! Thanks. It's just a day, ya know? No big deal."

"It's your birthday. Apparently it is a big deal," she said, gesturing outside where they heard the raucous yelling of the party guests.

"Or Medieval Times broke out of the castle and came to my apartment complex's courtyard. One of the two."

Sarah laughed. "I'm sorry I made you spend part of your birthday fishing around in the fountain for my phone and helping me try to dry it out."

"No, please! You didn't do anything wrong. Those dickheads knocked into you. It isn't like you threw it on purpose like, 'Go peasant! Retrieve my phone!' or something."

She laughed again. "That'd take some gall."

"Yeah. Pfft. On my birthday? Pretty messed up there." He wandered closer then as they chuckled together, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets and clearing his throat. "So, um, s-sorry, I didn't quite…catch your name."

"Oh. That might be because I didn't give it to you."

And she let that sit there for a while. He gaped, then cleared his throat. "True. You didn't. Fair, after the way that guy tried to make a move on you once he'd slammed into you and made you drop your phone in the fountain. I wouldn't wanna—"

"Sarah," she said, cutting him off, not wanting him to wander too far down that awkward path. She'd been teasing him again and it seemed like he hadn't picked up on it. She didn't want him to feel like she'd shut him down. It was only then she realized she'd given him her CIA name, the name on her CIA credentials. She could've just said literally anything else. Any God damn name that popped into her head. Kelly, Rhonda, Penny, Ashley, fuckin' Brunhilde. Instead, "Sarah" came out as naturally as if she was talking to Director Graham.

It was done now.

"Sarah," he repeated with a nod. "Nice to meet you, Sarah."

Sarah found herself taking his hand eagerly as he stuck it out towards her, squeezing, feeling no small amount of warmth run from where he squeezed her back up her arm, swirling a bit in her chest, before cascading out to the rest of her body.

"Nice to meet you too, Chuck."

They held on for a little too long, she thought, and then he finally pulled away, taking a step in the other direction, putting some distance there.

"Having a good time at your party?" she asked, moving to lean back against his desk, propping herself on the very edge of it.

He plopped down on the edge of his mattress, comfortable as ever, his stance open and inviting. Friendly. "Loaded question. Well, actually, I'm sorry. The question isn't loaded, but my answer will be. See, um…" Chuck winced. "Can I be totally honest?"

"I'd be kinda bummed if you weren't," she flirted.

She was flirting now? God, this hadn't been part of the plan at all.

Chuck let out a surprised giggle, nerves in it, even as he stayed open and friendly, shoulders hunched forward a little. "Um, my sister put this whole thing together. I don't know…well, I know virtually no one out there. Those guys attempting second base in my kitchen? Don't know who they are. One of three possible culprits invited them, along with everyone else here. And it was out of kindness, don't get me wrong. I love my family, my friends. They look out for me and I'm grateful and I've had some good convo tonight, I ate some delicious ribs, some cake…my best friend is finally getting the attention he's longed for from the girl he's had a crush on for ages, so that's cool. I'm just kinda…plunging toilets, keeping folks hydrated…"

"Saving a damsel's phone from drowning," she provided quietly, smiling at him.

"Jury's out on that," he said after a happy chuckle. "I hope I've saved it. But we'll find out when I check in a few hours."

"Follow through? Wow, this is excellent service. I need to talk to the hosts of this party, let 'em know I really appreciate they provided their guests with top notch I.T. service."

"Welllll, we aim to please," he played along, grinning toothily. "This is the best fun I've had tonight, for the record. So don't feel bad, please… like you're, I dunno, putting me out or whatever. You're not. I was looking for a place to hide before your phone took a dip." He groaned a little then, and she was surprised by how candid and comfortable he was, letting himself tip back to lie against the bed, his hands folded together on his chest as he blinked up at the ceiling. "I feel like such an ungrateful turd. Wanting to hide at my own birthday party. Ellie and Awesome and Morgan worked so hard to get this whole thing going and it's huge and fun and the food is great. Everyone's having a blast…"

"Except for you? The one whose birthday it is?" she filled in quietly when he didn't finish. She wasn't quite sure what the whole 'Awesome' thing was. Was it an animal or something? Some inside joke she didn't get?

Now wasn't a good time to ask, so she let it go.

"I mean, I'm not having a terrible time. I get along just fine with folks, it's just… Big parties like this are definitely an Ellie thing, right? She loves this stuff. She loves having people over. She gets this, like…buzz, you know?" He sat up again, ruffling his hair. "I think she loves that stress buzz, racing around getting ready for people to arrive and then playing host, sprinting to and fro, taking care of things. She loves it. I'm not a big party guy. Something small, intimate. Friends playing games. My people around me, ya know?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm with you. These people are getting a bit rowdy out there too. You think you guys can handle it if it gets much crazier? Football in the living room, guys punching each other's dicks during beer pong, which isn't a version I've ever played, I'll just put that out there."

"Uh, me neither. I'd like to have children some day."

She laughed. "On second thought, maybe it's for the best they keep punching each other in the dick…"

Chuck blinked at her. Was that too mean? Oops…

But then he burst into laughter, falling back against the bed, the sound of his utter glee making her feel an adrenalized buzz in her chest, a wide grin spreading over her lips, showing her teeth as she watched him.

"Ooohhh my Goddddd you just made my whole week with that, let alone my birthday. Oh my God. Help me." He kept laughing, finally sitting up again, wiping tears from under his eyes with his fingertips. "Oh, you're my favorite person right now. That was gold. Pure gold."

"A little mean maybe," she giggled.

"Sure, but it isn't like they haven't earned it. They've been douchebags all night. I'm only just barely considering forgiving Awesome for inviting the jerk-offs. That crack the one who knocked into you tossed in your direction…"

"Which one?" she groused with a snort and an eye roll.

"Well, good point. Maybe all of them. But the one that stuck in my head as I was fishing your phone out was the 'You know I'm a lawwwyerrr at a law firrrrmmmm' bullshit," he said in the most hilarious, nasally mocking tone she'd ever heard. "And just so you know…who owns the law firm? His daddy. Who got him into UCLA law?"

"His daddy?"

"Ding ding dinnngggg!" Chuck pointed at her. "And who got him recruited to sit on the bench of the UCLA football team?"

"Was that also his daddy?"

"Oh wow, you're good."

Sarah threw her head back with a laugh. "None of that surprises me a bit. Jesus Christ, you'd think after all this time, they'd come up with something original. And still, they just shove into spaces they aren't welcome, dripping with mediocrity."

Chuck brought his palms together in a few encouraging slow claps. "Sing it, girl."

She giggled. "This is kinda fun, can we keep talking crap on those guys?"

They both laughed together, their eyes meeting, and she felt the comfort level he was clearly feeling here start to seep into her as well. She tried to ignore the implications, instead chastising herself to focus. She had a mission. And even with all of these developments, she needed to keep to it.

"Oh, uh, sorry about the mess. I put a sign on my door to keep people out of my bedroom, both because I value my privacy and also 'cause, um…well, I had work all day, hence the shirt you saw me in earlier, and I guess I didn't prepare very well, clean my room, straighten it up or anything."

Sarah smiled. "I'm honored you let me in."

"Oh hey, listen. There was an emergency. I had to act fast." He snorted self-deprecatingly. "My sister and her boyfriend save people from emergencies like clogged arteries and aneurisms, and I save cell phones from emergencies like getting dropped in a fountain, falling in a toilet out of someone's pocket when they're taking a dump, and asshole hackers and phishers."

Sarah pursed her lips dubiously. "I sense some derision in the way you're talking about what you do but I thought you diving into that fountain to rescue my poor phone was pretty cool, dropping these weird packets on it to dry it out. You acted fast and I appreciate it. People's whole lives are on their phones nowadays."

He nodded. "No, I know. I get a little too self-deprecating sometimes."

"Well, I mean to set you straight." She gave him a flirtatious, arch look.

"I appreciate you setting me straight," he said genuinely.

And she had a hard time ignoring how attractive it was that he took her correction so well, and seemed to even be doing some self-reflection, not even a bit of offense or embarrassment involved. Maybe she was just used to men being offended and lashing out.

For all of his pluses, Bryce had quite a few negatives, one of which being that when she pointed out something he'd done wrong, even small things he could tweak that would make their missions easier on them, he'd go into a pout fest. Like she'd offended him, like he knew better than she did and didn't appreciate her telling him what to do or pointing out missteps that would help them while in the field. She'd gotten used to the miffed look, the silent treatment.

And here this guy was taking her nudge on his chin, reflecting, and genuinely appreciating her.

It was hard not to feel something, a tug in her chest. And it was hard not to notice how nice his eyes were in the light from the lamp on his nightstand. They were kind and filled with so many other things that made something flutter in her midsection. They weren't guarded, closed-off. There was no "spy mask". He was just so open. This was him, all of him. No secrets to hide, no skeletons.

At least, she'd gotten a good peek at his closet, and she hadn't seen any skeletons. Lots of sneakers, a soccer ball, electronics and wires, clothes.

She hoped she wasn't being taken in by someone who was just really good at being a spy, an informant.

Nobody could be this good. Not even her.

Chuck narrowed his eyes then, pulling his lips back between his teeth thoughtfully. "Hey, um…do you want a beer or somethin'? Maybe we can go get a beer out there and talk some more? You don't…have to. I mean, if you came with other people, I get it."

Sarah shook her head. "No, that sounds nice. I'd like that."

His grin. God, it was a joy bringer. The way it was so big and unguarded, wrinkling his nose, the corners of his eyes. "Okay. Cool."

"Cool." She shrugged one shoulder, following him to the door of his bedroom.

"And don't worry about your phone. We'll leave it here to dry out for a bit and it'll be safe. Nobody's coming into my room." He tapped the sign with his finger as they passed it on the way out. "This sign'll keep 'em out."

Sarah snorted cutely. "I have no choice but to trust the sign."

"Oh, you can trust the sign."

She smiled at him in amusement and he smiled back. And she found her hand automatically reaching out to rest against his upper back as he led her through the party towards the coolers. Of course it was just to make sure she didn't lose him in the throngs.

But the cotton of his shirt felt nice against her fingers, her palm.

And his warmth beneath that.

When they arrived, she noticed the place had been abandoned. "I guess the official beer guy decided to take a break from his post, huh?" Chuck sent her a curious look. "Your friend Morgan was handing out beers with, um, his…girlfriend? I guess?"

"Oh, you know Morgan?"

Sarah shook her head and he looked curious again. She bit her lip, her brain going a mile a minute. "You mentioned your friend Morgan in your room…and when I was here grabbing a beer earlier, I heard his girlfriend call him Morgie Corgie. So I put the pieces together."

Chuck laughed, shaking his head. "Morgie Corgie. Dear God. Those two are so weird. Well, okay! Good for him! They're probably off somewhere making out. It's fine. He gave himself the role of beer guy anyway, it isn't exactly necessary." He reached in and came out with two bottles of Dos Equis. "See? Done. So easy. No help needed."

She smirked, reaching out to take a bottle. He snagged the opener on the nearby planter rim and opened both bottles skillfully, tossed the caps in the nearby bin, and let her take one. "Thanks for this."

"Sure thing. To…silica gel packets, those miracle workers."

Sarah laughed hard, setting her sparkling blue eyes on this man who was turning every single first impression she'd had from that conversations with Director Graham a week ago on its head.

She realized yet again that she had a job to do, though. Before she could absolve this man of the potential camaraderie of one Agent Larkin, she needed to know more. She ignored the voice telling her to admit she wanted to know more, Bryce's traitorous (and fine) ass aside.

"So Chuck. You, uh, work at the Buy More you said?"

She witnessed a bit of shame for a moment, as if he was afraid she'd think he was a loser, and she felt a deep regret and guilt that she'd ever stuck that word in her head about him. But he covered it up quickly and nodded. "Yeah. Yep. I'm the supervisor of the Nerd Herd. We're the guys—erm, and girls—who fix electronics. We do installs and make business calls and all that fun stuff. I have the…sheer honor of leading the weirdest bunch of bozos to exist," he finished with a chuckle.

She grinned at him. "Sounds fun."

"It is until it isn't. Sometimes it's a little hazardous for my mental health. And…actually…physical health too. Wouldn't be surprised if one or all of us end up in the hospital someday." She gave him an alarmed look. "Don't ask."

"Okay, I won't," she giggled. "What else do you do? I mean, besides being a fancy supervisor…" She reached out and tugged a little on the collar of his shirt, making him duck his head and clear his throat, a crooked, pleased, cute smile on his face.

"I'd love to tell you that I'm like that guy Awesome over there, engaging in death defying stunts and working out ten times a day, but alas…" He shrugged. "I'm not Awesome. I'm me."

"I think you're kinda awesome."

He giggled, choking a little on his beer. "No, sorry. I'm—Sorry, you deserve some context. I call my sister's boyfriend 'Awesome'…short for Captain Awesome. His actual name is Devon."

"Wait, you call your sister's boyfriend 'Captain Awesome'?"

"Yes. I dunno if you've met 'im, but everything he does is awesome. Kayaking in white water rapids, bungee jumping…flossing."

She cracked up. "That's funny."

"I'm a funny guy," he teased, shrugging cutely. There was that self-deprecation again, only it was harmless this time; he was joking with her. …It was cute.

"Clearly. So is that what you do with your free time? Funny guy?" She raised an eyebrow, flirting again.

He blushed and ran a hand down his front shyly, chuckling. "Oh. Uh…not really. Mostly I, um… Geez, it is hard not to wanna be honest with you. You've got some kind of deep magic or something goin' on here," he joked, waving his hand towards her, furrowing his brow in awe. "Makin' me feel super comfortable talking to you even though you're, like, astronomically beautiful."

Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. Somehow she hadn't been prepared for that. She'd expected a come on in his bedroom and never got it. Just sweet bumbling, explaining silica gel packets to her. And now he'd actually dropped a really, really good line on her with not even a bit of guile, no ulterior motive.

He seemed to just mean it.

Intermixing an admission that he felt comfortable enough to be honest with her…with an admission that he thought she was "astronomically beautiful"…

And he said she had some kind of deep magic?

This guy was dangerous.

And Agent Walker couldn't help admitting Chuck Bartowski had just made her swoon.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "And I don't…mind a bit of honesty…"

"You're welcome and video games." She raised her eyebrows, taken aback again. "Sorry, I just rammed into you with that. I, uh, I play a lot of video games. I'm designing one right now, actually. On my laptop. Um, comic books. Lots of TV and movies. I, um, don't really get out a lot. Save to go to the arcade with my bud. Or we go to the movies when there's somethin' good, preferably something that takes place in space. Or has aliens in it. I'm not picky."

Sarah watched as he scrunched himself up into a bit of a ball and shut his eyes tight, twisting his face into a grimace. "What are you doing?" she giggled.

He opened his eyes and dropped the act, then gave her a supremely confused look, standing up straight. "Wait. You're still here? You haven't run off in another direction? I was ready for you to sprint off into the hills."

She got what he was doing now and rolled her eyes. "Oh God. I'll admit, that is very geeky, all of it. But I don't run from geeks."

"What do you run from?"

Bullets. Knives. Giant black suburbans trying to run her over or catch up to her as she flees the scene of an assassination of a bad, terrible tyrant…at least, she hoped they were as bad as Graham said.

Shaking herself, she let out an amused hum, fighting back the grim thoughts. "Um…I don't really like clowns. That might do it."

He held up his hand. "Hell yes. I will high five that."

Sarah laughed, the grim thoughts totally gone. And she slapped her palm against his, loving the way he curled his fingers around hers and held her hand for a bit longer, giving it a squeeze.

He let go an appropriate amount of time later and took another drink from his beer. "I gotta admit, too… I do not mind bugs. I can handle most of 'em. But man, spiders fuck. me. up. Can't do spiders."

Giggling, she shrugged. "I get it. They're scary."

"Thank you. See, and that's one of my many shortcomings. Alas."

"Okay, what is this?" she asked sincerely, gesturing at him. "Your fixation on your shortcomings. It's kind of bogus. I obviously don't know you besides that you're good at fixing phones—"

"Haven't fixed it yet," he corrected, lifting a scholarly pointer finger.

She ignored him save for sending him a flat look. "You need to focus a little bit more on your…I dunno, what's the opposite of shortcomings."

He paused thoughtfully. "Longcomings?"

Sarah choked on her beer, pressing her fingers to her lips to keep the bubbly substance from exiting her mouth, but it only made a stinging bubbly sensation arise in her nose. Ouch…

"Sorry, that sounded pretty gross."

She laughed and shook her head. "You're so weird."

"I know I a—"

"I like it. I like you."

That was sincere too. Maybe a little too sincere. And he looked totally floored, a crooked smile growing on his face.

And she reverted things to the mission yet again. She needed to know more about his time at Stanford, maybe get him to talk about Bryce.

"Ahem, I, um…have met a few guys since I left college and none of 'em were as candid as you are. Where'd you learn that?" she asked. "They didn't teach that where I went, that's for sure."

"Oh. Hah!" He cleared his throat. "I didn't learn that in college either. I learned it from…living."

Damn it. She was going to try to get him to mention Stanford, but maybe his bad experience leaving the university made it so he wasn't as forthcoming about that.

She had to just bite the bullet.

"Oh yeah? Where'd you go?"

"For college?" She nodded. "Um." There it was. Total discomfort. She felt like an asshole, pretending not to notice said discomfort. "Oh it was, uh, Stanford."

}o{

She had to ask that question.

He supposed he could just tell her the truth and avoid the topic of whether or not he actually got his degree. Stay away from the expulsion part. The cheating part. Bryce Larkin ratting him out for stealing test answers he hadn't stolen, and the test answer sheets just magically showing up in his personal desk in his room.

"Stanford?" she asked, her jaw falling open. "Well damn."

"You weren't expecting that one, huh?"

"In all fairness I never expect that to be the answer because Stanford students are few and far between. Kinda hard to get accepted there."

"Don't I know it." He whistled. "Anyway, not that big of a deal."

"Oh, sure. You went to the most Brainiac school to ever exist and it's not that big of a deal," she teased. "Pffft."

"Okay fine," he chuckled. "It was very hard to get in there, I did it, and it was kinda awesome that I did. There. Happy?"

"So can I call you Captain Awesome now?"

"Nope." She made a face. "Commodore Awesome."

Sarah cracked up. "Precision timing. Well done…" She paused. "…Commodore."

Chuck bit his lip and grumbled happily, squirming. "I love that," he said in a silly voice, and she giggled almost manically.

"So what'd you study at Stanford? Something with electrical…stuff?" She waved her hand in the air.

He snorted and nodded. "Yeah. Computer science and electrical engineering."

"Both?!" she practically barked. "Jesus, you are impressive." She sipped her beer. "Mm, I don't know how you manage one of those, let alone two at the same time."

"Double fisting majors and beers, booiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Sorry. It was funny in my head." He winced as she narrowed her eyes, weirded out. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's what I did."

"Mhmm…I bet you had all the girls flocking to you, too. All tall and brainy."

"Ha!" She got him blushing. "Uh, not all of 'em, almost none of 'em. I mean, everyone's brainy there. It's Stanford."

"Good point," she said with a snort.

"And come on, nobody got all of the girls except for…" He stopped himself. Why did that guy have to rear his head in his brain all of a sudden? God damn it. He felt the cloud come over his face.

"What?" she prompted.

Chuck remembered seeing Bryce with a different girl every week, walking with his arm over her shoulders, winking at Chuck like they were sharing an inside joke or something. And at the time, it made Chuck feel special. He was in with Bryce Larkin. Coolest and hottest guy on campus. Smart. Nice. Deserving of all the stuff he got. Driving around Stanford in an electric car before those were more popular because his parents had a shit ton of money back in Connecticut. Chuck had seen pictures of their property on the beach in Cape Cod.

Until one of those girls turned out to be the girl Chuck loved, he'd been so glad for Bryce's friendship, the bond they'd forged over building rudimentary RPGs, speaking in Klingon to one another, shooting each other in the face with dart guns, studying for tests together…same tests he'd framed Chuck as a cheater for…who knew why? Was it Jill? Ruining Chuck's life to steal his girlfriend?

And the thing that hurt the worst was that Bryce didn't even have to get Chuck kicked out to steal Jill, since they'd already been sleeping together. So why?

"Who?"

Chuck shook himself, looking at Sarah.

"Oh, uh… Just a guy. He went to Stanford too. When I was there. Supermodel, big ol' brain with math and physics. Kind of a wise-guy… And he got pretty much anything and anyone he wanted. Some way or another." He paused then, and breathed, "Including my girlfriend at the time."

She gaped at him, looking genuinely shocked as she lowered her beer to her side. "What? He did what?"

"Oh. Yeah, this guy I was friends with. I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me with him. So he literally did get…pretty much all of the girls."

Sarah grit her teeth, turning away a bit. He wasn't sure what was going through her head as she muttered, "I'm sorry. That's awful. You must've…hated him."

"We were pals before that." He shrugged. He didn't want to talk about what else Bryce had done. That was just bad juju. Especially with a woman who seemed interested enough to still be here talking to him, wanting to know more about him, what with the way she was asking questions. She'd barely reacted to the news that he was a massive nerd, too. She'd teased him about being a geek just briefly, and good-naturedly too. He wasn't fucking this up. No damn way.

But of course his mouth…it always had other ideas.

"What really sucked the most, though, was that…like, I dunno. You think you're gonna be with someone for a long time. You think she's gonna be it. Ya know? Like…it it. You're thinkin' about what happens after graduation. Where do we move so we can continue to be together? Where do we get a place? Where do we settle? I mean, I was all in. So all in. All my eggs in that one basket and…and Jill just…turned out not to be a basket but Joanna the goanna from Rescuers Down Under, just…gobbling up all the eggs…and now they're gone. The eggs. Just a girlfriendless, eggless…"

He looked up at her then and frowned, clearing his throat. He could tell he was losing her. "Sorry. Shit. Ellie always tells me not to…do this. And I was doing so well and then I just started…rambling…"

"No, no. It's okay. I didn't really get the Rescuers Joanna thing with the eggs…?" She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"It's a really good Disney movie. The sequel to the Rescuers. But it's…in Australia. There's this snake-lizard thing who likes to…eat eggs named Joanna. Not the eggs. The eggs don't have a name, the lizard's Joanna. You know what? Not important. I'm being super weird. Please let's just move past the Jill stuff."

"Wait, so is the snake Joanna or Jill?"

Chuck froze. He stared at her. There was a bit of a mischievous sparkle in her gorgeous blue eyes. She knew exactly what she'd just done there, and she'd done it on purpose. He let out a high-pitched "Hah…hehe…" And it became a laugh as he shook his head. "Oh wow, you are—You're somethin', Sarah. Special. You're special."

He liked this woman quite a bit. A whole lot, in fact.

"Well? Sounds like she's trash. Good riddance. Not to trivialize how you must've felt then. I'm sure it was completely awful." She shrugged then, finishing her beer and dropping it in a nearby recycle bin. She surprised him, stepping in close. "Are you still eggless?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Sorry, that just sounds gross."

"It does," he giggled. "But let's go with it. I've got a few back. She didn't…completely destroy me. Just felt like it then."

"Well, how 'bout you gather them up and we get in my car and get out of here?" His eyebrows must've shot straight into his hairline. "I know. Kind of a crazy ask. Trust me, I know. It's just…you were talking earlier about how this isn't really your thing. …Think it would hurt your sister's feelings if I whisked you outta here to do something you wanna do?"

A smile grew slowly on his face. God, that sounded fucking amazing.

"Do you think we'd be very bad for it?" she continued.

She was flirting. She was definitely flirting. His heart was racing a mile a second.

"I mean…it is my birthday," he reasoned, biting his lip. She was standing very close, excitement in her eyes. She already had him and he wondered if she knew it. And on second thought, he turned to look around the courtyard for his sister.

He found her. She was in a large group, cracking up about something, nursing her mixed drink with one hand, pinching Awesome's cheek with the other. She was having a blast. He could see it in her. The relief in her face, finally getting a break from the rough hours at the hospital lately. She was with her friends and her boyfriend. She'd seemed a little bummed earlier, because of him and how badly he'd been hiding that he wasn't having the greatest time.

And he'd felt guilty and put on his best face to try to buck her up.

It seemed that had passed now and he was glad. He'd text her he was going somewhere with a woman once he got in the car. She'd be happy, he knew it.

Because he was leaving to spend his birthday with this freaking incredible woman. He was intent on making this his best birthday ever. And nobody was going to stop him.

He turned back to Sarah and nodded, throwing back the last dregs of his beer and dropping the bottle in the recycle. "Let's get outta here."

"Yesssssss!"

She punched her fist in the air adorably.

And he knew he was in for some sort of ride.

Bring it on.


A/N: Bring it on, he says. ...as if he has any freaking idea what's in store for him. Moo ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Please review! Thanks!

-SC