a/n: …I'm back. Chapter 6, New Job, Who Dis?

I don't own Chuck

He was sitting at the table, staring at the beautiful blond woman across from him, that he was currently living with. She was his girlfriend – his freaking girlfriend – all because he had gotten some advice from Devon, the appropriately named Captain Awesome. "Play it Cool" had been Chuck's motto for the past several months, and it had paid off, in spades.

First, there was the real relationship with Sarah Walker. Not just real, but really real. A real, adult relationship. Then there was Casey, backing off of him, and playing a mentor to Chuck. Gone were the days of moron, idiot, dipshit, and whatever other words Casey had used on a regular basis to describe him. But the icing on the cake, the pièce de résistance, was Chuck Bartowski no longer worked for the Buy More. He worked for Walker Retrievals.

On paper, Walker Retrievals was a recovery firm. Art, jewelry, whatever, they found it and brought it back. In truth, it was backed by the CIA and NSA, together. Chuck was earning an actual salary now, could do nice things for his girlfriend, which is what he wanted to be doing. However, the life of a spy waited for no man.

He was currently trying to get his head on right, after flashing on their newest client that had sat down across from him and Sarah. Mr. Colt was the name they had been given, but it was not a proper description. Mr. Colt was huge; maybe the size of a horse, not a colt. Chuck's mind was spinning, because he had flashed on the aforementioned Mr. Colt.

"Is he okay?" Colt asked Sarah, gesturing toward Chuck.

"Sometimes water gives him a brain freeze, if it's too cold. He usually doesn't drink it with ice. He doesn't want clients to know that weakness, so it doesn't look bad on the company," Sarah explained.

"I get that," Colt replied. "I go for the imposing look. Do I look imposing? You can tell me, it's what I'm going for."

"Very imposing," Chuck managed to get out. "I think you've scared off our waiter."

Colt laughed, and clapped Chuck on the back. Chuck feared it would break him in half. "I like you," Colt said. He reached in his pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "So, here's the thing: I need this cypher found, ASAP. Tony had it stolen from him. He's an idiot, but it's so hard to find good help nowadays."

"Tell me about it," Sarah said, smirking at Chuck. Chuck made a face at her.

"I like you two," Colt said. "Anyway, my momma told me I had to go to my second cousin's wedding with her, and no one says no to momma." He leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "Momma scares me."

Chuck didn't say what was on his mind; which was, specifically, just how big was momma? Colt straightened up as a very small, hunched, older lady walked in. "Jeffery," she said, looking in Colt's direction. "JEFFERY!" she said sharply.

Colt gulped, stood, and looked very nervous. "Yes, momma?"

"It is late. I've already missed Wheel of Fortune, and we need to get an early start in the morning," Mr. Colt's mother said.

"I know, Momma," Colt began. "But I had some business-"

"JEFFERY THOMAS EARL COLT!" She bellowed.

"Gotta go, get that cipher for me, please?" Colt begged, leaving them the papers and hurrying out the door with his mother. "Momma you embarrassed me," he said in a low tone, but not so low Chuck and Sarah couldn't hear him.

"I'll do more than embarrass you if you make us late in the morning!" Colt's mom said, on the way out the door.

Sarah leaned over to Chuck. "Are you okay?" she asked in a soft voice. "Move over here so I can keep an eye on you." Chuck nodded, and changed seats. He felt her left hand on his right thigh. He looked down at it, and back to her. "It's to keep you steady," she explained.

"What if the hand meant to keep me steady is what's causing me to swoon?" he asked, grinning. A smirk grew on her face, as his eyes widened from her hand slowly going up his thigh. "Sarah," he said in a straining, choking voice. "What are you doing?"

"Getting your mind off of that flash," she responded with an innocent shrug. "Trying to make your headache go away."

"It's working," he said, in a strained voice. "We might need to call this in to Beckman."

"Nope," Sarah replied. She slowly moved her hand back towards his knee, this time using her nails. "We have a meeting with her scheduled for in the morning, and you told me this was a very good restaurant."

"Morgan recommended it, and I thought it would be nice to bring you somewhere you've never been," Chuck replied. Sarah looked around. "I know it doesn't look like much, but the little bearded man knows his dumplings."

"Let me be clear with you, Mr. Bartowski," Sarah said, leaning in toward him. He leaned in as well, making her grin. "I have plans for this evening, so if your friend screws up by making either of us have gastric distress… I'll pull his beard out, hair by hair."

"Plans?" Chuck asked, his grin covering his face.

"They involve you and me," she began.

"Oooo, will there be a black-tie requirement?"

"There will be no clothes," Sarah replied. She smirked as she saw him swallow, and grabbed his hand before he could raise it, asking for the check. "We're going to have dinner, and then, Chuck Bartowski, I'm going to have my dessert."

"Not to be crass, but am I the dessert?" She nodded, grinning. "And I can't ask for the check?" She shook her head slowly. "Then, can I ask for one, itsy bitsy favor?" She raised an eyebrow. "May I have a kiss to tide me over?"

"Such good manners," she said, leaning in, capturing his lips with hers.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked. Sarah pulled away, and picked up the menu, as Chuck glared at the waiter with a what the hell? look.

}o{

"Team," General Beckman said by way of greeting. "Anything to report?"

"Last night, I flashed during our meeting with a Mr. Colt," Chuck began.

"And you didn't report it immediately?" Beckman asked.

"General, we didn't want to raise suspicion by leaving our cover date early, and then by the time we got home, it was very late on the east coast," Sarah explained.

Casey glanced at them, and bit back the comment.

"Something you'd like to add, Major?" Beckman asked. Casey shook his head, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

"General, we have been tasked with stealing something called the cipher," Chuck explained. Beckman's eyebrows raised. "I take it you know something about this… cypher?"

"It is supposed to be the heart of the Intersect computer," Beckman explained. "We have to get that out of their hands."

"And who supposedly has the cypher right now?" Chuck asked, having trouble keeping up with who had stolen what from whom.

"We do," Beckman replied.

"Hmmm," Chuck said thoughtfully. Sarah turned to him as did Casey. "What?" he asked, looking at one and then the other.

"That's your, I've got an idea but it's pretty crazy hmmm," Sarah explained.

"No, not quite," Casey disagreed. "That's more his, I wonder if this can work and if it does, how much damage would it do to the bad guys." He paused and turned to Beckman. "Bartowski uses the term bad guys as a catch-all."

"I see," Beckman replied. "Continue."

"But here's the interesting part," Casey said to Sarah. "The last of that hmmm, that was, How mad is Sarah going to get?"

"That's completely not what that, 'hmmm,' was," Chuck argued.

"No, Casey's right… that's not the same 'hmmm' that you said earlier. It is your, How mad is Sarah going to get? 'hmmm,'" Sarah said, staring at her boyfriend. "And why will I get mad?"

"Well, it's not so much mad, as-" Chuck began.

"Team," Beckman said cutting Chuck off. "I'm going to excuse myself. You all figure this out; Casey get back to me; Sarah, don't hurt the Intersect; and Chuck…" She let it hang there for a minute, tension building in the air.

"Good luck." With that the screen went blank.

Sarah turned to speak to Chuck, but he was already running toward the door. "Doesn't he know you'll catch him?" Casey asked. "Or is this one of your… uh… Christ," he muttered.

"It's not a sex game, Casey," Sarah replied, ignoring Casey's groans. "It must be bad that he can't even remember that I will always track him down."

"I'm not touching that," Casey muttered, walking away.

}o{

"Devon, Devon, Devon," Chuck began, bursting into his office at the hospital.

"What is it, Chuckster?" he asked, looking up from the chart he held. "Sarah hurt?"

Chuck just shook his head, having run up the stairs and was winded.

"Your yang not working right? I've got a shake for that."

"What!? NO!" Chuck replied, his expression one of startled revulsion. He shook the resulting image from his head, and continued. "And why would I come to you for that?"

"Uh, I'm a doctor," Awesome replied.

"My wang is just fine, thankyouverymuch," he said, and then paused. "At least, I think it is." He looked up at Devon. "She wouldn't lie, would she?"

"Buddy, it's fine, I'm sure," Devon said, realizing something was seriously bothering Chuck. "Now, what's wrong."

"Well, you know how Sarah's a spy?" Devon nodded. Chuck sat down in a chair, then immediately popped back up and began to pace.

"Why did I think this was a good idea, to allude to it, and not tell her? She's gonna figure it out, and I'm going to have tell her. Because for God's sakes, it's her, and if I don't tell her, she'll do that thing with the things, and I'll tell her anything!" He looked up at Devon. "I'm dead. It's just that simple. I'm dead, and she's going to use those barely-there material things, and I'm gonna cave. I will, I have no willpower around her."

"Wow," Devon replied, his eyes wide.

"I'm weak. I have no control when she decides she wants something," Chuck admitted, his gaze far away, shrugging. "I'm doomed."

"Sounds absolutely awful," Devon deadpanned.

"I mean, it's not at first, it's really… really, quite great." Chuck had a dopey smile on his face. "But then… then she'll figure things out, and she's gonna be mad. Super mad. Big mad." He turned to Devon. "I don't like it when she's big mad. She gets so annngry."

"Dude, what are you going on about?" Devon asked, having absolutely no idea what was going on.

"I kind of didn't tell her about my past," Chuck began.

Devon rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Pfffth, is that all?" Suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Wait, is this an STD? A kid, a… a wife? CHUCKSTER! Do you have a wife?!"

"What? No!" Chuck replied. "It's worse that that!"

"What the hell could be worse than any of that?" Devon asked.

"I used to be a… hacker," he replied in a small voice. "She's CIA."

"Oh," Devon replied, slowly nodding, and then realization dawned. "A hacker? You?" Chuck nodded. "Were you any good?"

"Do you remember the movie Swordfish?" Devon nodded. "It's based on me."

Devon gaped at him. "All of it?" Chuck looked confused. "The Halle Berry part?"

"OH! No," Chuck said shaking his head. "Creative license, and all that," Chuck said with a shrug.

"Did you get to meet Halle Berry?" Devon asked.

"Can we focus on my CIA girlfriend discovering that I'm a hacker?" Chuck asked, exasperated.

Devon was quiet for a moment. "Fine, I did not get to meet Halle Berry, or any of the cast. I didn't even get paid for my story, because that would have pointed out that I am, in fact, A HACKER!"

"Oh," Devon replied, nodding. "Gotcha." There was silence for a moment. "Do you love her?"

"Yes, Devon, I do. And I trust her with my life," Chuck replied.

"But do you trust her?" Devon asked. Chuck furrowed his brow. "Because if you do, then you have to tell her everything, and know that if she does love you, she'll understand and help you."

"But if she doesn't?" Chuck asked.

Devon clapped his hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Has the statute of limitations run out yet on what you did?" Chuck closed his eyes, and wondered if this was punishment for something he had done in a previous life.

}o{

He walked into their apartment and saw her sitting at the table, aggressively flipping through a magazine. "So this is it, huh?" She looked up at him, still flipping. "This is our first… and last… fight."

She stopped flipping. "Last fight? You think we're never gonna fight again, Bartowski?"

"Please don't call me that right now, because all you're doing is reminding me how hot it sounds when you say it. And I'm going to miss you when I'm in jail, or moved permanently into the next bedroom, or whatever you're going to do when I tell you about my past." He never looked at her as he said it, so he never saw the look on her face. He did, however, notice she wasn't flipping pages any longer.

"Chuck," she said in a voice that made him turn to her. "Do you think that little of me? Do you think that little of me saying I love you?"

"No, I don't," Chuck replied, shaking his head. "I think what I've done puts you in a bad spot, and you have to make a decision that isn't fair to you."

"Chuck," she began.

"Sarah, I'm a hacker. I'm… I'm Piranha." He looked at her, shame on his face. "I never stole anything."

"I know," she said, his head snapping up to hold her gaze. "I know you never stole anything," she clarified. "I also know exactly who Piranha is." She was silent for a second, then got up, walked over to where he was on the couch, and took his hand. "You think that's what would break us up? You think that would cause me to leave you?"

"I figured you'd have to tell the CIA who I am, and then…"

"Then what, Chuck? Let them take away the man I love, a man who did nothing?" Sarah asked, her eyes getting red.

"Wait, Sarah," Chuck began, but she ignored him.

"I'm supposed to tell Beckman that you're some hacker and let you go to jail? Chuck, you have the Intersect in your head. You aren't going to jail. They'd put you in a bunker, if they did anything."

"I'd lose my mind in a bunker, or jail. I hate being alone," Chuck replied, shaking his head.

"What the hell am I? Chopped liver?" Chuck's eyes widened. "I. Love. You. You think you're going into a bunker by yourself?"

"Well, I didn't really think this through," Chuck admitted.

"You're damn straight you didn't," she said, getting more and more upset. "Is that what you'd do if I was a hacker and you were a CIA officer?"

"Hell no!" Chuck replied, making her raise an eyebrow, Spock-like. "I'd never… oh," he said softly.

"Never?" she asked in her own soft voice. Chuck nodded. "Listen, again, I need to tell you about my past."

"You don't," he disagreed, cutting her off. She gave him a look, and he mimed zipping his lips.

"And it's bad, and maybe you'll want to leave," she said. She was about to continue, but paused.

"Sarah, I don't…" Chuck insisted.

"Then know that you, Chuck Bartowski, are the man I love, and I'm not going anywhere because you're Piranha. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss.

}o{

"I'm not the best at this," Chuck said later, lying in bed, her snuggled against him.

"I mean, I don't want to give you a big head, but there are no complaints on this end, sailor," Sarah replied, snuggling closer to him. Chuck felt every inch of her bare skin against his.

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation," he choked out, as she slowly rubbed her hand from his belly button to his chest and back again.

"I'm teaching you how to survive a very specific style of interrogation," she replied, grinning into his shoulder.

"Don't need it," he wheezed. She stopped rubbing his chest, and lifted her head. "See, I have this girlfriend that if some woman ever tried this, she'd find her, and quite possibly kill her."

Sarah studied him a minute, then nodded. "You have a good point," she conceded.

"You wouldn't actually murder them, would you?" Chuck asked.

"I'd rather not comment on that. I'm not sure you wouldn't toss me in jail or a bunker," she said, giving him a flat look. She sighed. "You didn't deserve that, I'm sorry."

"No, and that's the point. I do," Chuck admitted. "God, this is so new to me. You know how Jill left over the Stanford mess, so you have to understand why I freaked out over Piranha."

"I'm not Jill," Sarah began.

"God no, you're not," he breathed.

She grinned at him, and touched the end of his nose. "Boop," she said, and he grinned like a fool. "But I do understand. Chuck, please only judge me for my actions, instead of what you think I might do."

"Deal," he said. "Buttttt."

"Oh, God," she groaned.

"You have to do the same with me." She looked at him through her lashes, shaking her head lightly. "However you think I'm going to react, you don't get to worry about it. You only get to judge me on what I actually do."

She sighed and shoulder bumped him. "I hate it when you use my own words against me." He slung his arm around her shoulders and held her tight. "I'm guessing you went to talk to Devon today?"

"I know I shouldn't," he began.

"No, I get it," Sarah replied. "And I'm glad you have him."

"Me too," Chuck replied. "He's pretty… well, awesome." Sarah giggled. "And he never found it remotely unbelievable that a guy like me could be dating, um, well... You know."

Sarah grinned, and turned to him. "I know what?"

Chuck swallowed. "Um... you know, you."

The grin grew. "What about me? That I'm a spy and you've lowered yourself to date a killer?" Chuck gave her a flat look. "Well, what is it? Because I might jump to conclusions like someone else did earlier."

Chuck sighed. "You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?" She bounced a shoulder, and he knew he was toast. "You… wow, okay. Fine. All right, we'll play it your way. A girl like you. Or more appropriately, a woman like you. Considering the fact that you could probably kick the ass of everyone I've met in my entire life." A soft smile grew on Sarah's face. "And-and a... a smart one at that. Not to mention cool and... extremely beautiful. And, and you can stop me anytime with the compliments if they're becoming, you know..."

"No, Chuck, I won't, because… well, you make me feel good saying those things. Everyone else in my life…" She trailed off, and he squeezed her shoulders and placed a kiss in her hair. "That was very sweet."

Chuck snorted. "Sweet? Golly gee, thanks for making me feel like I'm eight."

She chuckled, her shoulders shaking. "Well, you're not so bad yourself."

Chuck shook his head. "Please. I'm fantastic."

She turned toward him, a smirk on her face, moving a curl that had gone astray back to his head. "Yeah," she said, leaning in, her breath hitting his ear. "You are." She kissed his neck right below the ear. "You really are." She caught his ear lobe with her teeth, and ran her hand down his chest to his belly button, pausing there.

"Sarah," he groaned. "Is this more interrogation?"

"Yeah, I have one question for you," Sarah said, her lips capturing his. "Why haven't you made love to me yet?"

"Because I'm an idiot?" he replied quickly.

"Well, quit being an idiot," she told him, and then she squealed as he flipped them in the bed. She wrapped her legs and arms around him. "Definitely not eight."

}o{

A few days later

"So, Mr. Bartowski," Beckman began. "Major Casey informs me that you created a fake cypher to give to Mr. Colt, and as soon as this cypher is used, it will create a…" she looked up from her notes. "Mr. Bartowski, can you simply do this?"

"Certainly, General," Chuck replied. "If they try and use it, we can track them. As soon as they attempt to use it, it will lock their computer systems, and only an elite hacker, or someone with the password, can get in."

Beckman took her glasses off, and hung onto them by one of the arms, the tip of it by her lips. "How elite?"

"Very," Chuck replied.

"How about… oh… Piranha?" Beckman asked. Casey snorted laughter. Chuck looked at Sarah, who was tense, ready to spring. "Stand down Agent Walker." She laid down her glasses and steepled her fingers. "Chuck, we are the NSA."

"Wait, what?"

"Mor… Chuck," Casey corrected himself. "We did extensive background checks after we decided to make you an analyst. While we have no real proof you're Piranha, the time frame works, your ability works. And, most importantly, the job you did on that fake cypher is top notch. The guys that made the real cypher couldn't crack what you did on the fake one."

"I'm not in trouble?" Chuck asked.

"Only as much trouble as you're in for not telling Walker who you are," Casey muttered. Beckman gave him a look. "And… Christ." He took a deep breath. "As your partner, both on missions and… you… you know."

"This is painful," Sarah muttered.

Casey scowled at her. "You should be very transparent with her."

"So, I should show her everything?" Chuck asked, grinning. Casey rolled his eyes.

"Permission to storm out granted, Major," Beckman said, a smirk on her face. Casey stormed out. "You enjoyed that way too much." Beckman gave Chuck a long look. "Mr. Bartowski, I do suggest that next time you have an issue that makes you wonder whether or not you should discuss it with Agent Walker, that you err on the side of discretion, and discuss it with Agent Walker." Beckman disconnected the feed.

Chuck turned to Sarah. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

"But you did," Sarah disagreed. "Chuck, everyone needs time to figure things out sometimes." She took his hands. "Just remember I'm in this with you."

"I will," Chuck promised. "And you remember I'm in this with you."

She grinned. "Oh, I know," she said. "Hey, Casey," she called out.

"For the love of God, just leave, and spare me the damn details!" Casey yelled back.

Sarah smirked. "You heard him."

a/n: Thanks for reading.