I do not own Chuck

John vs the Lady Feelings

London, UK November 2014

"That has to be the stupidest cover story I've ever heard Bartowski!" And it was, too.

"Fine, Mister Big Bad Secret Agent, you come up with something better then." Chuck folded his arms and stuck out his lower lip as though hurt, although he knew the younger man was pretty used to him by now. The problem was how to come up with a different cover story? This sort of thing just wasn't supposed to happen. It was all fucking Bartowski's fault.

"We wouldn't have to do this at all if you didn't insist on inviting the Bearded Gnome for Thanksgiving!" he moaned as Sarah brought their coffee through from the kitchen.

"Everything OK boys?" she asked sweetly, even though she must have been able to hear them from next door.

"John's just being his usual cheery self," Chuck observed, giving his fiancée the usual googly eyes.

"Traitor," he muttered as Sarah gave the kid back the googly eyes with interest, before swinging round to grin playfully at him.

He couldn't get used to Sarah Walker grinning playfully. It was just one of those things that he'd never expected to see happen in his lifetime. Like Hell freezing over or General Beckman smiling. Although, funnily enough, there'd been quite a lot of Walker grinning and Beckman smiling over the past twelve months. And the reason was sitting across the table from him, sipping his coffee.

Fucking Bartowski. He had to admit that life for all of them had been better since Bartowski came back into their lives. He'd never admit it to the kid though. Not til Hell froze over.

John had spent many years right on the edge. What was it that Walker had said Graham had called him? A Cold School Killer. He had been. He'd been on the edge for a long time but when he'd thought Ilsa had died, it had pushed him over. He'd become almost an automaton. Being sent somewhere, killing someone, coming back.

But Burbank had changed all that. Bloody Bartowski and his sister. They'd got under his skin. The way that they'd welcomed him into their lives. Hell, Ellie had only thought he was their next-door neighbour and Chuck's co-worker. She'd had no idea what his real job was. But that hadn't stopped her from opening up and trying to involve him in her family. And the moron had been just as bad. Treating him like a person. Ignoring his past. Ignoring every time John lashed out at him to hide the growing respect he had for the idiot. When they'd left Burbank it had been hard. But Burbank had changed him, just as it had changed Sarah Walker.

It had only been for a few months, but it had brought him back from the edge. When he went to Burbank, he was practically a wash out, only capable of working on his own. When he came back, he was able to engage with others, able to work as part of a team again. In fact, he preferred it. The moron and his sister had done that. Reminded John what he was working for. What the Greater Good really meant.

Walker wasn't the only one who had changed after Burbank. Even General Beckman had remarked on the change in John. The quality of his work had improved. He was asking questions again, looking for alternatives, not just putting bullets in people. And that was important because Fulcrum was powerful. On at least three occasions they'd got actionable intelligence from agents he'd captured, who in the past he would have just killed.

And he was being noticed again. For the right reasons. His career had moved forward, and they were making progress in the fight against Fulcrum.

And then had come the attack in Afghanistan and Chuck Bartowski had come back into his life again. But not the well-meaning, nerdy manchild he'd known in Burbank. This was Bartowski the PJ. This Bartowski had been through the two year PJ course that had even been failed by many soldiers that Casey had served with before and highly respected. This Bartowski was part of an elite force known and respected the world over. This Bartowski had the ability and, more importantly, the discipline to be operating behind enemy lines in a warzone. To be part of a small team dedicated to saving lives. To be relied on to do the right thing at the right time and for the right reasons. Bartowski had saved his life in Afghanistan. There were no two ways about it.

The new Bartowski had backbone, that was for sure. He had stuck to his guns and turned down the chance to come back to work with John again on the anti-Fulcrum task force. If John was being truthful with himself, that refusal had hurt him. Walker had already agreed to join up and he'd hoped to reunite the whole Burbank team. It had meant a lot to him because he had seen what Bartowski could be. They would've been unstoppable together. As, in fact they had proved to be more recently.

But Bartowski had gone his own way, and then he'd come back anyway to save his former partners when they'd been prisoners in Colombia. And the chemistry was still there when they were together. And by now John was desperate to reunite the team.

And he'd gotten his wish. He'd only realised latterly how precarious the situation had been. Sarah had told him that she'd been willing to give up her career to follow Bartowski. But she hadn't. The kid had given up his to follow her. The kid had done something that John hadn't been strong enough to do all those years ago. He'd given up his ability to make a difference to follow the woman he loved. In his weaker moments John sometimes regretted that decision he'd made all those years ago. He wondered what life would have been like if he'd stayed with Kathleen? Would they have had kids? Grandkids? Would they still be together? He didn't know. He knew he'd made a difference to a lot of lives by doing what he did, but most of those people he'd never meet. Was it worth it? He'd never know.

So Bartowski had followed Walker to DC and John had been working behind the scenes to get him in again, and then it had fallen into his lap. The Fulcrum attack on the bank, Bartowski's work to defuse the bomb. Before that, Bartowski had been against coming back to intelligence work. Something had changed and he'd suddenly been receptive to it. John didn't know what it was, but he suspected it was something to do with the protective instincts that both Bartowski kids seemed to have in abundance. He had seen Sarah and John in danger again (as they had been when he'd rescued them the first time) and he'd resolved he wanted to protect his old team.

Whatever it was, John wasn't looking back. He'd just wanted Chuck to work as an analyst with their team but someone senior, he wondered if it was Beckman, had suggested using Chuck for the Uber team as well. What a fantastic idea that had turned out to be. The kid had all the skills, plus it gave him the opportunity to help people as well. John thought it was that offer, as much as anything else, which had brought the kid back into the intelligence fold.

And he'd proved his worth since then. The kid had a knack when it came to analysis. And now he knew how to follow orders and could even take care of himself as well. Maybe that part still needed some work, John thought, as the kid was still recovering from the injuries he'd taken in the Portsmouth attack. Although John reckoned that wasn't really his fault. Chuck had done everything right. It was that douche nozzle admiral that had been mostly responsible for his injuries. Even though Cole had apparently taken care of that issue, Casey had still wanted to pay the man a visit in prison. Maybe he still would.

But because the kid was the kid, he wanted to share Thanksgiving with his family. Which included not only Ellie and Devon and their kid (and was John NOT looking forward to that) but also the bearded gnome and his girlfriend. He didn't know what sort of woman would go out with Morgan, but he could only hope she wasn't educationally subnormal with the sense of humor of a three year old as well.

And because of that, and because John and Juliette were both invited for the event, they had to work out some sort of cover for how John had ended up being involved in Chuck and Sarah's lives again. Fucking Hell.

"So, let me get this straight," the bearded moron asked, "You went back to the Marines after you left Burbank and then, when you re-retired, you took a job as a trade envoy?"

John couldn't believe it. The bearded moron had the gall to look at him incredulously after some of the complete and utter shit he'd heard come out of that mouth!

"Yeah," he replied calmly, noting Bartowski in the background covering his grin. He struggled not to glare at the younger man who, he was sure, would spend plenty of time explaining to John that his cover story had been better!

"Yep," noted Sarah, pushing between them and offering Morgan cucumbers and dips. Good move, John thought, if he's eating, he won't be thinking. "And, would you believe it? He actually secured a contract for Beastmaster with a British distributor!" she withdrew, shooting him a smirk from behind the bearded gnome's shoulder and John nearly ground his teeth together.

"No way!" Morgan exclaimed. "Are you on commission?"

"That's not how it works, unfortunately," John tried to explain and keep his calm, all the while thinking about snapping the younger man in half. Actually, maybe he was doing him a disservice. He seemed to have grown up a lot and his speech wasn't as marked by exclamation points and hyperbole as once it had been.

Luckily, before he could trot out the finer points of trade law, he was interrupted by Sarah exclaiming, "Alex, welcome." He hadn't met the gnome's girlfriend before, although Sarah had told him that she was a highly intelligent, well-informed and likeable young lady. He could tell that Sarah had been impressed by the woman and hoped he'd be able to chat to her and lose the little idiot. He stood, and turned to welcome the younger woman.

He held out his hand, "John Casey ma'am," he offered. She was of medium height, with brown hair and freckles. She was pretty and he was surprised that she was with Morgan. The bearded gnome was definitely punching above his weight.

"Alex McHugh," she replied, shaking his hand politely. She was looking at him quizzically. "Have we met before?" she asked, "it's just that you look slightly familiar."

"No, I don't think so," he replied, a little off balance. Her surname had caught him by surprise, reminding him of Kathleen. She even looked a little like Kathleen. Could they be related? "I'm sure I would've remembered."

"How did you sleep, Alex?" Sarah interjected, perhaps aware of his consternation. She was one of the few people in the world, along with Bartowski, who could genuinely read him. Given that they'd been working together for several years in all now, he supposed it wasn't really that much of a surprise.

"Well, thanks Sarah," the younger woman offered. They had apparently arrived first thing this morning and immediately gone to bed, betraying that they weren't regular flyers. Casey, like most regular flyers, tried to keep to the hours of the place he was flying to as soon as he landed. He supposed, given that they were on vacation and that it was Thanksgiving dinner tonight, he could understand the move. But it certainly wouldn't help with their jet lag. He was surprised they'd managed to sleep actually. Chuck and Sarah were currently living in a small two bedroom apartment although they were planning on moving to a larger house in the next few weeks. He knew that Chuck had been cooking all day, since the younger man had been talking about what he was planning to do for most of the last week.

Chuck and Sarah were extremely excited to be hosting their first Thanksgiving as a couple. Bartowski was disappointed that his sister and her family weren't going to make it but understood that Clara was sick and they therefore couldn't fly. Christmas had been mooted as a replacement and he was sure that the young couple would be happy to host Christmas as well. John would have thought it was somewhat sweet if that word was even something you could apply to a CIA assassin and a PJ. Sweet wasn't a word that normally was part of John's vocabulary but there was something about the two of them together that genuinely was sweet. Particularly when you knew what both of them had gone through to get to this stage. Given that John had been there for a lot of it, he was inclined to cut the couple some slack, even though he'd deny it if ever asked!

"Well, come and sit down then," Sarah invited. They were only five given the Woodcombs' absence and Juliette's trip to Paris this week. She'd been apologetic, but their rekindled relationship was still new and John didn't really care about Thanksgiving, or indeed any holiday. He'd had to miss so many over the years and, anyway, holidays and down time were tough for agents. He probably would've missed this holiday as well if Sarah and Chuck hadn't been so insistent. He'd decided to humor his partners. It wasn't like he didn't owe them, and anyway he was interested to see whether the male Bartowski was as good a cook as his sister! If he was even fifty percent as good then life would be golden!

Well, will wonders never cease, John thought. It turned out that Bartowski was a pretty good cook, the gnome's girlfriend was as intelligent and personable as advertised, and even the gnome himself had grown up. It had been a fantastic evening and he was actually sorry it was drawing to a close. In the old days he'd been uncomfortable with such events and would have left as soon as dinner was finished, but now he found that he was enjoying himself sufficiently to stay. How times had changed!

John was nursing his glass of wine listening to Sarah question Alex about what she was looking forward to seeing in London (Buckingham Palace and the Tower of London) when a discordant tone cut through proceedings. The young woman reached for her purse. "Sorry, that's my mom," she apologised, "I don't think she's quite got her head around the time difference!" She clambered to her feet, a little unsteadily, not unsurprising given the amount she'd drunk, and answered the call. "Hold on a sec, Mom," she called, heading out of the room.

She returned a few minutes later brandishing her tablet. "Everyone say hi to my mom!" she called, before anyone could object. Oh shit. John saw Sarah's grimace and knew that his face probably shared the expression. Even though there was probably a low security risk, most agents, and particularly those who had a history of undercover work, were wary about their likeness being available on uncontrolled media.

And, in this case, John was right to be wary as a sound of shock issued from the tablet and a disbelieving voice asked, "Alex?"

"You OK, big guy?" It was Bartowski. Of course it would be.

He didn't really have an answer. He just sat staring at the blank screen of Alex's tablet. Of his daughter's tablet.

He had a daughter. It was both brilliant and terrible at the same time. The girl didn't know yet. That was something he still needed to tell her. All she knew was that her mom had recognised him. And it was only when he'd looked at the screen that he'd realised why. He'd gasped "Kathleen," and then in the last time he felt like he was in control in what seemed like hours, he'd politely asked Alex if he could borrow her tablet to speak to her mother.

Realising that something momentous was occurring, Sarah and Chuck had run interference for him, physically handing off the tablet, Chuck peeling off and taking Casey to their bedroom and Sarah distracting Alex and Morgan.

"John?" Bartowski prompted.

"I have a daughter," his voice replied. He was still staring at the screen and didn't see Bartowski's expression, but he heard the sudden intake of breath and then felt the bed move as Bartowski sat down next to him.

"I won't try and hug you," the younger man said. Good, he thought. "But know that we're both here for you if you need us."

Typical Bartowski. Or new Bartowski, rather. Chuck wasn't forcing him to talk. He was quiet, waiting to see if John had anything to add. The wave of support was typical of him though and very much appreciated as John tried to get his thoughts together.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bartowski asked.

Actually, he found he did. Does this mean I'm going soft?

"I told you my real name in Curacao," he started.

"You did," the younger man acknowledged.

"Alex Coburn was a lieutenant in the Marine Corps in the 80s. He had a lovely girlfriend who he cared for, but he also saw a lot of things he couldn't unsee and realised that there was only one group which was genuinely making a difference. He applied to Special Ops, but his application was turned down."

"What? No way!" Chuck's anger on his behalf made the older man's lips crinkle in a smile.

"I subsequently found out that my CO had interfered with the application. He came and offered me a slot in NSA Black Ops. But it came with a price. Alex Coburn had to die."

"That sounds unlikely as well." Who ever said the younger man was an idiot? If he had been before, he certainly wasn't now.

"It was, but I didn't know any better then. By the time I found that out, it was years later and it was too late. I asked to call Kathleen to say goodbye, but Keller – that was my CO – cut us off mid-call. Two weeks later, Alex Coburn was declared Killed in Action. Turns out that Kathleen was about to tell me that she was pregnant…"

He stared off into space as the other man shifted on the bed. "I'm sorry John."

"I'm sorry too," he replied. "Sorry for what Kathleen's been through. Sorry she didn't have my support. I've done a lot of good things in my life, in my career. I wouldn't have been able to do that if Alex Coburn hadn't died, but I feel sad I let Kathleen down."

The kid didn't offer any irrelevant platitudes, which was a plus in John's book. He really had grown up. In the world they lived in, that Chuck now inhabited, there was no black and white. Everything was shades of gray. There were very few rights or wrongs, it was generally more right or less wrong in their world.

"Was she pissed?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, and I couldn't blame her," John replied. And he couldn't either.

"What are you gonna do?" the younger man asked.

"I need to fly out tomorrow to go and meet Kathleen. I couldn't explain much. I just told her I worked for the Government and I couldn't tell her now, but I'd come and see her ASAP."

"What about Alex?" That was a good question and was exactly what John had been thinking about.

"I'll tell her I knew her mom at school and Alex was my nickname," he explained. "I want to explain it to her, but I owe it to Kathleen to explain it to her first. When are they heading back to LA?"

"They're here for two more days. Does that give you enough time?"

"Yeah, I'll speak to the Admiral and call in some favors, try and get to LA direct." If the government wouldn't pay he could use some of the money that Chuck had put aside for him, he supposed.

"OK John," the younger man replied, "If you need us, just call. We'll be there."

And he knew that was the truth. He'd never had a better partner than these two. He knew they'd go to the ends of the Earth for him if he needed them. Just as he would for them.

"Thanks kid," he told the younger man, finally rising to his feet. "I will. For now, I'd better get going."

"Casey!" John looked up in shock at the quiet voice close to his ear. He'd not been paying attention, just walking out through baggage reclaim and into the arrivals area on auto pilot. He had so much on his mind that he'd not been paying attention to his environment at all. He hadn't even noticed Chuck or Sarah waiting for him. He'd lost situational awareness. John Casey had lost situational awareness. For the first time ever. He berated himself. He was lucky the interruption was friendly. The consequences of losing situational awareness could be huge for an intelligence agent.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.

"Oh, you know," the kid replied nonchalantly, "Just bored, so we thought 'well let's drive down to Heathrow, wait around for an hour and then go home!'"

He favoured Bartowski with a glare as Sarah cuffed the younger man around the back of the head. She looked at John contemplatively for a while, before apparently abandoning her misgivings and wrapping him in a gentle hug. He was shocked, immediately tensing up before reaching behind her to hug her back. He saw Chuck smile reassuringly over her shoulder.

"We came because we thought you'd need your friends," Sarah whispered in his ear before squeezing him once then letting go.

John Casey was speechless. The shocks just kept coming. Them coming to meet him (no friends had come to meet him at the airport ever in his life), having actual friends in the job and, most of all, Sarah Walker hugging him. Sarah Walker – the Ice Queen, Graham's wildcard enforcer. Hugging him. John Casey. Beckman's old school killer. And, what was more? He'd enjoyed it. It had comforted him. He felt better. Better than he had in LA, better than he had on the flight. More in balance. Was he going soft?

"Thanks," he grunted, not noticing the happy grin Chuck and Sarah exchanged over his shoulder. "What's the plan?" he added.

"We thought we'd head back home and make you lunch, then Sarah can practice her interrogation technique!" the kid offered with a smile, grabbing his suitcase and heading off.

"Hmph," he grunted as Sarah smiled at him apologetically. "And what if I give it up without the thumbscrews?"

"Well at least I won't have to clean the carpet!" the kid replied over his shoulder.

"Ha!" he couldn't help the laugh that boiled out of him. "Fuck you Bartowski!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to get in line John. Someone's already got that spot!"

He felt better already. Fucking kid.

Who knew that talking about your private life could be better than keeping it bottled up? Chuck and Sarah had neglected to mention that they'd also invited Juliette for lunch. He knew what they were up to; making sure that he didn't have to repeat himself multiple times, that all those closest to him were in one place at one time. Instead of it feeling like they were interfering in his life, it felt nice. The warm feeling from the airport had stayed with him. The feeling that people cared about him. As him – John Casey. Not because of the job, but as a person. He hadn't really experienced that feeling since he'd been with Kathleen all those years ago. He wouldn't throw that feeling away ever again.

Bartowski had obviously put some effort into lunch. Pot roast; one of his favorite meals that Ellie would cook. With roast potatoes and roast parsnips. He'd disappeared into the kitchen shortly after they'd returned to the apartment where it had all gone down only six days before. Since then he'd travelled to LA and back, met with Kathleen and then with Alex as well.

It had been difficult with Kathleen. She had been angry, but worse was her hurt. And John couldn't blame her for either emotion. She had slapped him and he'd just stood there and taken it. He deserved it after all. The only positive thing about what had happened was that he had made sure that she had received a lump sum "pension" payment. His parents had been dead by the time he was twenty. There was no-one else to leave it to and he'd cared for Kathleen sufficiently to ask for her to be taken care of when Alex Coburn had "died". She had told him that the lump sum had been useful for bringing up Alex comfortably. It hadn't made it easy but it had made it easier. The fact that her parents were alive had also meant that at least she had some support. But it had been emotionally difficult and she had struggled for many years.

She had broken down as she'd described her emotional struggles and John couldn't have felt worse in that moment. It had been a very rough couple of days. She initially hadn't wanted to tell Alex, but she had considered it overnight and told John that he should stay and introduce himself. Which had required a long call with Chuck and Sarah to decide how to spin the story, because whatever Alex knew, Morgan would probably end up knowing as well.

What they'd decided on in the end was to tell the two of them that John had been involved in the intelligence services but that he'd retired before he'd ended up at the Buy More. That chimed with the cover they'd already developed for Alex and Morgan anyway, that he was now working for the State Department as a trade envoy after having gone back to the Marine Corps after LA.

This he explained to his audience of Sarah and Juliette, while Chuck labored in the kitchen, occasionally coming in to add a comment or ask a question.

"And what about Alex?" Chuck asked as they sat down to lunch.

"She was almost a mirror of her mom," Casey replied, "Angry and hurt, but mostly for her Mom rather than her I think. Although I guess growing up with no dad couldn't have been easy. I didn't want to push it, so I left her some contact details and said that I'd like it if she'd contact me, but I could understand if she'd rather not."

Sarah gave that slow smile she always did when she was digesting something. "I think she will. She's a level-headed girl and I think she'll want to get to know you."

"Yeah, after all," Chuck interjected cheekily, "What's not to like?! Just, when you speak to her, try and reign in your natural loquaciousness John, you know some people like to get a word in edgeways!"

He glared at the younger man as Juliette valiantly fought to keep the amusement off her face and Sarah tried to decide whether to grin or grimace.

"Fuck you Bartowski," he replied, trying to glare but actually inordinately grateful to the younger man for lifting the mood, although not wanting to let him get away with the gentle teasing.

"You know we love you really John," the younger man grinned, as John fought to keep a glare on his face.

But the truth was that both Chuck and Sarah had gone above and beyond what was required of partners, and had actually become friends. As friends they were looking out for him, John Casey, in a way that nobody had ever done in his life. In a way that he hoped Juliette would one day, although they weren't quite there yet in their relationship. He knew he would be there to look out for them as well. Because they truly were his friends.

Anyway, this was all getting a bit heavy. "Enough of the lady feelings," he announced, shooting a blink-and-you'll-miss-it grateful smile at all his companions, "Let's eat."

Hope you enjoyed it. If so, please review.

You can find the Green Feet timeline on my profile page. This is the first of maybe 4-5 fics which will take place while Team B is based in the UK.