A/N For the benefit of those who don't know, there's a Facebook group for Chuck Fanfiction, and we'd love to have some new members.
It's not very Christmas-y, sorry about that.
"That treacherous bastard."
"Mom?"
"What was the evidence?"
"Operation Eagle has commenced."
Outside Volkoff's office the shadowy figure tossed a little metal ball out onto the carpet. It rolled over to the wall and sprouted arms, climbing up the wall to the security scan pad. Preloaded with the most likely ciphers, it made short work of the locks and released the door. The intruder lost no time entering the office, heading directly to the desk and its computer.
In the warm night Agent Blond was a little overheated with his jacket, but he could tell that Agent Curls was completely comfortable. Completely. Did she always...walk...like that, or was it the dress? "It is so awesome that you're my wife."
Agent Curls stopped and looked at him coquettishly, and he realized he'd said that out loud. "See anything you like?"
Oh, yeah. A lot that Agent Blond liked. For a second he wondered what it would be like to run his hand along that dress, before he remembered that a spy's job was to observe and report. It was his duty to observe. Closely. The dress was new, the hairstyle different. Long, decorative needles holding it in place. He'd seen Sarah with scalpels and other things and knew how deadly even those thin sticks could be in the right hands. "All of it. All of you. This is what I, I mean, we wanted." There was something new, though, something different. "This is going to be a great night."
"Fancy dinner, a nice hotel..." Agent Curls sashayed away. "Maybe a little surprise after..."
Agent Blond tried to breathe. "That too." He caught up to her at the door, placing his arm around her waist and running his hand along the dress. It felt...nice.
"Reservations?" asked the hostess.
"None whatsoever," said Agent Blond, admiring the woman in his arms.
"She meant for a table, honey," said Agent Curls, sharing a smile with the hostess. "Bartowski."
The hostess checked her board. "Table for two," she read off, and selected menus. "Right this way."
On a secure call somewhere...
"A missing child?"
"Not just missing, sir," said the tech tentatively. "Given the state of the records and the physical evidence, some effort appears to have been made to hide the child."
"Hide her where?"
The tech was uncomfortable enough with the original suggestion. "There's a lot of time and space between our two data points, sir."
"There's more to life than data points," said A. "What do we have on Agent Walker herself?"
At La Mire...
This time around, when the hostess tried to seat the beautiful couple in some advantageous (for the restaurant) part of the room, Agent Curls was on guard and pushed for a more defensible position. She didn't get the table in a far corner that she wanted, but at least there was a railing and a split-level effect that could offer them some cover in case anyone started shooting.
Agent Blond did his best to keep up. "Her name is Nancy and she's in a relationship of some kind," he reported unasked, as the server left their table. "Not sure about her shoe size."
"Don't worry about that," said Agent Curls. "Most women's clothing seems to be sized according to the phases of the moon or something. And good for you with her name. Honestly, I don't know why they put those nameplates where they do, it's like they want to be anonymous forever."
"Male-dominated management, babe," said Agent Blond. Then he winced. "Gah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I should stay in character."
Agent Curls sipped her water. "What character, Agent Blond? 'Young couple in love'?"
"You're the one who made the reservation under Bartowski," said Agent Blond. "Can't get more 'young couple in love' than that." He frowned. "Except don't they say that spies aren't supposed to fall in love?"
"Good thing we're not falling in love, then," said Ellie, dropping out of character. "It's a good cover, but that's not why I did it. I used Chuck's Open Table account, he loves the points." She took a demure sip of her water. "It's not the only thing I borrowed tonight."
"The dress?"
Ellie smiled. "Good for you." She set down her glass, holding out her arm rather more than she needed to, showing off the garment. "Sarah said she wore it on a mission in Bulgaria. How wild is that?"
Wild enough for me. "I'm surprised it fits." Sarah was taller but slimmer, and he didn't know which phase of the moon she'd been born under, so dress size was anybody's guess.
"She had body armor under it." Ellie brushed her hand down the front of her dress, and the wonderful thing that she had under it.
"I like it better this way," said Devon. "We've got enough of a life of mystery and adventure as it is."
"Oh, I don't know," said Ellie. "Spy work does run in our family. And I notice you're not running away."
Agent Blond smiled. "Can't abandon my partner."
"Oo, that reminds me," said Agent Curls. "We should come up with a code word in case things get too hot."
"Too late." At least inside the restaurant there was some air conditioning.
"Hmmm." Agent Curls eyed a passing waiter, and the contents of his tray. "Martini. You get to be 'shaken'."
Agent Blond looked shaken. "That would make you, um, 'stirred'."
Agent Curls took another sip of her water. "Why, yes. Yes it would." She flipped open her menu. "So tell me, what would you like to eat?"
Mission prep...
"Who came up with that numbskull idea?" growled Casey. "No, wait. That question answers itself, doesn't it?"
At La Mire...
"Would either of you care for some wine?" asked the server. "We have a very nice 2000 San Giovese."
Agent Curls' eyes lit. "Oo, remember we had that at our wedding?"
Agent Blond put his hand over hers. "Yes, I do, babe." He looked up at the server, making an effort to remember her face. "Unfortunately we're alcohol-free for the duration, Sandra."
Sandra glanced at the brunette patron and smiled. "Congratulations. I'm very happy for you, truly. We have a separate list of aperitifs and postprandials for the expecting. Shall I bring it to you?" She saw them look at each other but whatever signal they passed, she missed it.
"Sure," said Agent Blond, and the server bustled off to do that little thing. He grinned. "These hand signals are neat."
"I tapped you a code yellow, not green," said Agent Curls. "We have a hotel room waiting for us, remember?" She looked over his shoulder. "Well, at least someone's happy. Your new friend Sandra is doing a happy dance back there."
Agent Blond held his glass at the right angle to see behind him. "Looks like the wine guy." He put it down. "Well, can you blame her? She sure had us pegged."
A shadow fell over the table. They looked up to see a large man in a suit looming over them. "Mr. Bartowski, Mrs. Bartowski. I'm sorry to disturb you but Operation Eagle has taken an unexpected turn. I'm here to take you to a secret location. We should leave quickly."
Agent Curls looked from the man to her partner. "Operation Eagle?" she asked, her fingers moving under his hand.
"Dude," said Agent Blond, his fingers moving hover hers, "You're kind of harshing our vibe, here."
"I know and I'm sorry," said the man, "But my control officer, Agent Grimes, says the peril is both dire and imminent, and you two are desperately needed in this situation."
"Agent Grimes?" said Agent Curls. Of course. All that melodrama had to be Morgan, and who else would make him an agent? Unless it was his new employer, in which case she feared for the safety of the civilized world.
"Dire and imminent, huh?" Agent Blond looked at his partner. "What do you say, babe? Our country needs us."
"It had better," said Agent Curls, bidding that hotel room a fond if rather generic farewell. They-whoever they were-had gone to a bit of trouble to set this up, whatever this was, and she knew she would wonder forever if she turned down the opportunity. Not to mention, Agent Blond over there looked like he was eating all this up with a spoon, and she wanted him to be happy more than anything.
The man nodded. "My limo is outside. I'll be waiting there for you."
Orion put his research into the life and career of Clyde Decker onto a different monitor entirely, when he got the signal that a connection had been made. It took four agents and three support assets to do it but it had been done. Finally. Decker could wait. This was far more important, and there was no way he'd let anyone else do it. He may not have been the natural hacker his son was, but his skills should be good enough for this. "Okay, Alexei, let's see what you've been up to."
After another unexpected jostling, their driver apparently better at defensive driving than livery driving, Agent Curls' phone went off. "Oh, good operational security, babe," said Agent Blond with a grin.
Agent Curls rolled her eyes as she got her phone from the CIA-issue clutch that went with the dress. Sure, she should have had it on vibrate, but this was just a game. Wasn't it? "Hello?"
"Ellie, it's a trap!" said a woman's voice. Alex, Morgan's obviously-insane girlfriend, that was her name. "Your driver is working for the other team!"
Teams, now? Who did this? Agent Curls turned to her husband. "Martini."
Devon looked from her to the front of the car, an oh, crap expression on his face. "What do we do?"
As if she had any more experience at this than he did. Well she did, in a way. Casey had told her a lot of his stories. "Step one, get out of the car. Next time it slows down."
Agent Blond looked at her dress, her long bare legs. "Are you okay with that?"
"It's a spy dress, sweetie." Agent Curls did something with the dress at her hips, then lifted her butt off the seat and pulled more dress down to cover her legs. A touch of some little doodad from her clutch and the whole thing rippled, becoming a lot less glittery in the dark. She stuffed the doodad in the bag and the bag down into her top. "Good to go."
"So good," breathed Dev-I mean, Agent Blond. He popped the lock on his door as she did hears. "Shaken."
"Stirred. On-" The car slowed, a little, and they popped the doors open, but then it went into another turn at speeds most people wouldn't consider safe, and the door on Agent Curls' side pulled out her hands, dragging her along with it. "Three!"
Agent Blond had to push, but he forced his door open and dove out. The two rolled off their momentum as the car continued on, the doors slamming themselves as it straightened out.
He fetched up in some-tall grass?-and looked across the road for his partner. "Shaken."
"Stirred," she said out of the darkness, and he heard running. Then there she was, skirts missing but it looked like she was wearing shorts now. "Babe?"
"This is not what I had in mind about going commando tonight, believe me," she said, grabbing his arm and leading them both away from their exposed position.
Meanwhile, back in the Orion-cave...
"What kind of a name is 'Roni Eimacher'?" He started tapping at his keyboard. "Who are you, and what have you done for my dear friend Volkoff?"
The limo pulled to the side of the road and stopped. The driver got out and opened the door for them, but no one was there. "What-?"
Alex walked up to him from the shadows. "Lose your passengers, Six?"
"They were just here a second ago."
"Yeah, sorry about that, but bang. You're dead."
He looked confused. She was supposed to be his teammate. "What?"
She looked very apologetic. "New game, new rules. Live with it-" she reached for his armband and pulled off the patch, revealing a skull-and-crossbones emblem "-or not." She left him with the limo. Time to go gather her little lost lambs.
A/N2 I hope you'll tell me what you think because this is really hard and it's nice to hear.