A/N According to Wikipedia, Sasha is a female tiger.
"Feels kind of weird driving myself."
"Woman, you wound me."
"Tiger."
"Nobody puts my man down."
"Sasha, you naughty girl," said Otto, waving his shredded and very smelly shirt around. His tiger had gotten into his closet again. Otto tossed the shirt at his man, who tossed it to some other man. "Get rid of this."
Some lackey or other was eventually tasked with the job of removing the rags. He dumped them in a bucket and headed for the back stairs. He hated that damn cat, the way she reeked. Which wasn't the way this shirt reeked. He lifted the bucket and took a sniff.
When they heard the body fall the security team rushed out into the hall. The man was still alive, but had fallen over unconscious. As they searched him for darts they began to feel light-headed themselves. At the last minute one of them was clever enough to turn the bucket over, with the shirt underneath.
"Sir, the scent," said Karl, when he received the report. "Your shirt was impregnated with some kind of knock-out drops."
Otto closed the door to Sasha's cage. He'd thought she was too docile. He went to his computer straightaway, well aware that a self-described cyber-security expert had had unguarded access to this level. "Bring me the safe." He brought his computer up out of hibernation as Karl brought in the small box. He typed in 84437, the numerical representation of 'tiger', opened it and pulled out his tracker. The screen showed his transponders still local, in Sasha's cage. He would assume the chips were still there as well. He hadn't noticed any missing crystals, and he wasn't about to stick his hand in a cage with a drugged tiger to find out.
"Sir, your computer," said Karl, who knew nothing about computers but knew what his boss' screen usually looked like.
Otto looked at the screen and saw messages about new hardware being found. Hardware! Ach! He was clever, this Herr Carmichael, but Otto could be clever too. He lifted his tracker once more.
"No, Carina, I have no idea why the Turners did that," said Sarah into her phone.
"Why what happened?" asked Chuck.
"She stole the goods from the target, and the Turners double-crossed her and stole them from her. She's blaming me," said Sarah to Chuck, and then back to her phone, "But how could I, I've never met them. No I didn't recommend any such thing."
"You did bring her up with the General on the line," said Chuck, guessing at Carina's accusation.
"Fine, I'll the take the hit on that one," groused Sarah. "Next time we spar I'll let you win. But that wasn't because of the Turners, that was because of Milan…You think Chuck can help? How?"
"Help with what?" asked Chuck, who loved to help.
"Help her find the Turners in a city you've never been to on a different continent," said Sarah. "She wants to send you pictures and stuff, as if that would help. No Carina, they've been spies for thirty years, they're not going to leave a forwarding address. Anything else, something useful, maybe?...What's that, a bar bill? You did hear me say 'useful', right? How many Manhattans?"
"Um…" said Chuck.
"Hold on a second, Carina, Chuck said 'um'…Because when Chuck says 'um' smart spies shut up and listen, that's why." Sarah lowered the phone. "Go ahead, sweetie."
"Manhattans," said Chuck, as the road moved by the windows, his mind moving with it. "Casey. Manhattans. Manhattans. Casey. Bartending Today. Booze snobs. Marasca cherries. Grand Ambassador hotel."
Sarah lifted her phone. "You get that? What do you mean, he sounds drugged? He's driving in LA and doing a better job on your mission than you are. That's right, traffic in LA. You bet your ass that's great. Now go and save the day." Sarah pocketed the phone. "Bartending Today?"
"I had to read something, and he subscribes," said Chuck. "It's the only thing on his shelves aside from gun magazines."
"Why am I not surprised?" said Sarah, as the car pulled into the lot at Chuck's–soon to be their–apartment complex. "Morgan's home. Hopefully he hasn't gotten into the cache."
"He knows better than that," said Chuck.
Inside the apartment…
"Hey, Chuck," said Morgan, the second they walked in. "You know you've got, like, six billion guns hidden in that new couch we got? They can't stay here, Chuck. Alex and I were hoping to use that couch, for…um…watching movies and stuff. We were gonna watch something romantic, like Shoot 'Em Up."
"Alex thinks that movie is romantic?" asked Chuck. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Because you know who her father is?" said Sarah, who didn't know the movie but figured with a title like that it probably wasn't supposed to be a romance.
"That must be it," said Chuck. "Sorry, buddy, but a lot's changed in the last couple of days, and we're going to have to rethink the living arrangements."
"What's changed?" asked Morgan. "Aside from the couch?"
"Sarah and I are engaged, for one thing," said Chuck. "So she'll be living here soon, and spies have a thing called the 30-Foot Rule."
"Does it involve lots and lots of guns?"
"Yeah. And I know you christened this place a 'bachelor pad' when we got it, but that was a long time ago."
"And I seem to remember you saying 'we can go up, we can go down, if we're lucky we can move forward, but we can't go back'." Morgan looked around their newly-furnished apartment. "It seems to me we're moving forward. Engaged, huh? Congrats." He looked at Sarah. "I think I can leave him in your hands now."
She smiled, pointing behind him. "It looks like you've got someone else to take care of."
Morgan turned. "Hey," he said, going to take her hand in his. "How does it feel?"
Alex flexed her fingers. "I told you it was worse than it looked."
"What happened?" asked Chuck.
"She went to see the weapons at SAFE," said Morgan. "It turned out it was unsafe."
"That's this weekend?" said Sarah, annoyed. "Damn, I wanted to go to that."
"You can ask Mr. Casey about it," said Alex. "He was there too, probably at the presentations."
"Was he?" asked Chuck, warily.
Alex nodded, oblivious. "I was only in the weapons display area, but I didn't see him there. Besides, I…left early."
"Not early enough for some people," said Chuck, gesturing toward her hand. "I'm guessing the other guy looks worse?"
Alex blushed, nodding. "Everybody applauded."
Morgan hugged her. "That's my girl. But why did you–?"
Someone knocked on the door.
"Are any of us expecting guests?" asked Chuck. When the answer came back a universal negative, he went quietly to the door and checked the peephole. A tiger was sniffing at the lens.
Okay. He backed away from the door. "Morgan, take Alex out the Morgan Door, now. I'll give you a five-count."
Morgan grabbed Alex' good hand and pulled her toward Chuck's bedroom door, a finger to his lips. Alex, remembering how she and Morgan met, followed without a word. By the time they got to the door a second finger was there, and by the time they were in the room closing the door a third had gone up. Four fingers were up when he unlatched the window, and on five they heard the front door open, so they went out.
Inside the casa de Bartowski y Grimes…
Otto von Vogel strode into the room like he owned it. Sasha came in too, and Chuck sneezed. "So, at least that was true, ja, Herr Carmichael?" He aimed his tracker at Chuck's pants.
"Not my intention, Otto," said Chuck, a little breathless. He pulled out the cards he taken from Otto's computer. "I just wanted a sample of the code, so I could make a better lock after you released your new key. I want you to sell the damn thing." He sneezed again.
"So you drugged my poor Sasha merely to escape, eh, not to get the data chips in her collar? That is good, but not for you." He said to her handler, "Take her outside. You know how loud noises upset her." Karl drew his pistol.
"Now wait a minute, Otto," said Chuck, sneezing rapid-fire, even as the cat left the room. He turned away, fumbling for a box of tissues on the table. He clumsily knocked it onto the new couch, and dove after it.
Outside…
"What's going on?" asked Alex in a whisper.
"You remember how we met?" asked Morgan, as if either of them could ever forget. "I was there because Chuck asked me to be there."
Alex smiled, squeezing his hand. "I'm so glad you were."
"Yeah, me too," said Morgan. He kissed her lightly. "Anyway, this is sort of what he does. We have to get to my car."
"You're not just leaving them?" The tone of her voice made it not a question.
"I'm not leaving them, I'm protecting you," said Morgan. "He wants me to do it. He told me to do it."
"I can protect myself."
A man in a dark suit came around the corner of the building and saw them. "Stop right there."
Alex kicked him in the face. He stayed on his feet, stunned, until Morgan hit him with a plant-pot and he dropped.
Something rumbled in the dark.
"What was that?" asked Alex in a whisper.
"Not Casey, that's for sure." They watched as something large and feline walked out of the potted garden and sniffed at the fallen man. "Oh god." Morgan felt around in his pockets for something to fight tigers with, and found his car keys. "Here." He pressed them into her hand. "My car's that way." He pointed and ran off in the other direction.
The tiger bounced after him with a growl.
"Morgan!" Alex followed them, to see Morgan running through the fountain. The tiger wasn't thrilled with that notion and went around, gaining Morgan a second or two to race down the tunnel on the far side of the complex. He widened that lead by pulling over some of the trash bins as he passed.
At the far end of the tunnel was a limo, like the kind a guy who drove around LA with a tiger might have. Morgan opened the front passenger door, climbed in, and dove over the seats into the back. The tiger followed him, but with its larger size wasn't diving anywhere. Morgan got out and closed the side door in the back just as Alex came up and closed the side door in the front.
"We did it!" said Morgan, coming around the front of the car as it rocked wildly. "We trapped the tiger! The Force is with us, like Luke and Leia!"
"Han and Leia," said Alex, backing away from the vehicle. "Luke was Leia's brother."
"Oh, right," said Morgan. "But I can't be Han, I'm Chewie. This is so confusing…" He dropped his head into his hands.
"Chewie was a sidekick. You're Han now, and you're blazingly lucky," said Alex. She grabbed him up in a fierce hug. "Don't ever do that again. You're already my hero, but I want a boyfriend."
"Miss McHugh?" said a voice out of the dark, confused and amused. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Miss Verbanski?" asked Alex, recognizing the older woman as she came into the light. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," said Verbanski, stepping away from the car, which was just beginning to settle down. "But I won't. I came here to see John Casey."
"How did you know he lived here?" asked Morgan.
Verbanski smiled, but didn't answer. "And this is the famous boyfriend?"
"This is Morgan," said Alex proudly.
"Who lives near John Casey, works with John Casey, and traps tigers in cars for fun."
Yeah, she'd seen that. "Believe me, it wasn't fun," said Morgan. "I think my pants were wet before I ran through the fountain."
"Yet you did it," said Verbanski. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Because you don't know–" Crap. Chuck. "Sorry, gotta go." Morgan ran off into the tunnel.
"Because I don't know–?" said Gertrude.
"His friend, I think. In the house with the guy who brought the tiger," said Alex. "It's dangerous."
"And he runs toward it." Suddenly her phone rang, and she held up a finger as she pulled it out of a ready pocket. "Verbanski…He called? He's where? Okay, roll out Alpha team, let's see what this deal is worth." She put the phone away and reached into a pocket. "I have to go." She handed Alex a card. "My office. Tomorrow. Bring your boyfriend."
Alex took the card in numb fingers. "Yes, ma'am," she said automatically, even though she had work in the morning.
Verbanski smiled again. "Like father, like daughter."
Alex clutched the card so it wouldn't fall. "I never met my father."
"A Marine? Died in combat?" asked Verbanski. Alex nodded at the incredibly lucky guess. "Trust me, you're a chip off the old block."
Morgan ran up to the door of the apartment, seeing Chuck and Sarah standing there, one big guy on the ground and one old guy with his hands in the air. "Come on, Otto, surely you've heard of nose plugs. A smart guy like you should have seen that coming." Chuck fired, and Otto collapsed.
"Is he…?"
"No," said Chuck, "Just tranqed."
"You and Alex ought to get back in here, where it's safe," said Sarah. "There's a tiger outside we need to catch."
"Oh," said Morgan, "We caught it already. Somebody left a limo out front. I really hope it was this guy's." He pointed at Otto.
Chuck looked his friend over. Morgan seemed a bit damp, but otherwise uninjured. "How's Alex?"
"She's fine," said Morgan. "Talking to some lady by the limo, came here to see Casey."
"Speaking of, where is Casey…?"
At an office building downtown…
"Karl Sneijder, John?" said Gertrude, as her team secured the site. "A nice high-profile target, big bounties. If this is you 'thinking of something', I think we'll do great things together."
"Not me," said Casey. He pointed at the three loser schmucks he'd seen on the stage at SAFE, getting cut loose by her commandos. "Them. I was never here."
"They're your cover?" said Gertrude, laughing. "Fine. We'll be in touch."
Casey didn't like the sound of that. The last thing he wanted was Gertrude Verbanski of all people, trying to get in touch. With him. "How?"
She smiled. He hated it when she smiled. "You'll know."
A/N2 Morgan had nothing to prove to Alex or Casey, but I really like his heroic moment. So did Gertrude, it seems. Didn't see that coming.