Chapter 3: The Software Specialist

California, Burbank, The Castle, November 26th, 2007

He was in pain. Knocked down on the ground, suffering. He could feel a bruise forming where his leg had been kicked. Just moving hurt. He was doomed, and it was all his own damn fault.

This had been a mistake. Chuck should have listened to Sarah and Casey and everyone else. He should have stayed home.

"Are you alright?"

He forced himself to smile as he rolled onto his back. "Just catching my breath," he managed to say. "I'm a little more out of shape than I thought."

"We can always take a break and continue later. Or tomorrow," Sarah said. She didn't look beaten at all. Nor exhausted. Even though she had run five miles with him, and then had spent half an hour knocking him across the mat. She looked like she was just warming up.

And she also looked great in yoga pants and a crop top.

"No, no, I'm OK," he said, forcing himself to smile at her. "'The more you sweat, the less you bleed', right?" He started to get up, but his stomach muscles chose this moment to cramp, and his smile died as he groaned with pain and fell back on the mat.

"Chuck?" Sarah knelt at his side before he managed to stop holding his stomach. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a… cramp. I think," he said.

"Break time," she told him.

"Break time," he agreed with a grimace. "Is there a coke left in the fridge?"

"I'll get one," she told him, patting his shoulder before she stood and left the training room in The Castle.

He closed his eyes and whimpered. A little. This shouldn't hurt so much. He had always been good at running, after all - it was a survival trait in Sunnydale. And high school. But, apparently, that didn't translate into being fit enough to fight. Certainly not on Sarah's level.

Which he'd have to be if he wanted to be more than a walking database. A walking database which only worked randomly, not reliably.

Sarah returned with a bottle and a towel. And another draped around her neck. As if she had worked up a sweat.

"You read Adams, I see," he said, trying not to wince as he grabbed the bottle.

"I did. Although it's been a while since I read 'Thoughts on Government'," she said as she sat down next to him.

"I meant Douglas Adams. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," he explained before taking a large swallow of the coke. "Always have a towel with you."

"Ah. I haven't read much science fiction."

"It's a classic."

"You say that about every book or movie you like," she replied with a smirk.

"Well… they are!" he defended himself.

"I'll bow to your experience."

"Good. Because if I had to bow to yours, my stomach muscles would kill me."

"No pain, no gain," she said.

"That sounds like something Casey would say," Chuck remarked.

"With good reason," she replied with a grin that looked a little too toothy in his opinion.

He groaned again.

She shook her head with a smile. "It'll get better… eventually."

"That's very comforting."

Sarah shrugged before doing some stretches on the mat. "You wanted to get trained. Better do it right. Can't half-ass things in combat. And you should stretch as well, or you'll feel worse tomorrow."

"Uh…" Chuck winced just at the thought of forcing his aching muscles into contortions.

"Come on!"

She was like a female Captain Awesome. Well, she was awesome, of course. He blinked. "Uh… I just remembered."

"It's not another appointment, is it?" Sarah frowned.

"Sort of. For us," he said. "We still need to decorate our apartment."

Hearing her groan in response felt strangely satisfying.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, November 26th, 2007

"What's wrong with the living room?" Chuck asked. His apartment was fine. Really. Granted, the furniture was mostly IKEA, but the couch was comfortable. You could even sleep on it - Morgan had done so often enough when his mother had had someone over he couldn't stand. And the TV was the latest generation, perfect for Medal of Honour.

"It's not a living room. It's a gaming room," Sarah replied.

"Well, it's both."

She looked pointedly at the dining table pushed against the wall behind the couch.

"I usually eat at Ellie's," he said. "But we can easily push the table a little to the centre of the room, move the couch a little, replace the sideboards and…" He sighed. "Alright, it's a gaming room."

She nodded in agreement. "And we need to turn it into a living room."

"A living room where we can play games as well," Chuck insisted. This was part of him. And Morgan.

"Speaking of playing games, we need a bedroom for two," she said with a grin.

"Uh… sure." His own bed was rather cramped with the two of them. Not that he really minded, of course.

"I'm thinking of turning your 'storage room' into a bedroom."

"Uh…" He knew his smile was rather weak. "That was supposed to be temporary after I moved in. But, well… I didn't really need the room for anything else, so…" He shrugged. It was true - between his bedroom, where his computer and desk were, and the living room, he hadn't really had any use for the third room. "Also, half of the stuff there is not mine, but Ellie's."

"Ah."

He wasn't quite certain how to interpret her expression. "Anyway, we can turn that into a bedroom." And see if his sis liked it once she had to find space for all that junk in her apartment.

"With a desk for me," she added.

"Of course." That was only fair.

"And a big armoire. And a dresser."

"Uh, sure." He blinked. "You seem to have this interior decorating thing down pat."

She frowned at him. "Those are just the essentials. We still have to decide on the style."

Oh. "Of course," he agreed. "And do you have an idea yet?"

Perhaps he had asked a little too sharply since her frown deepened some. "Less Nintendo."

"That's more what you don't want, not what you want," he pointed out.

"Yes, it is." She beamed at him.

"Ah."

"I'm not saying to get rid of all your merchandise," she went on.

"Good. Because some of it will be worth a lot in a few years!" It was an investment. Gaming merchandise from the eighties was worth a lot today. Not that he'd ever sell his vintage Tron poster.

"But it's better used a little more sparingly. We can store the rest."

He bit down on his first response. She was only making the apartment theirs, instead of his. "I guess we do need the space for your things."

Weirdly, Sarah winced at that.

California, Burbank, The Castle, November 26th, 2007

"I still have trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that you don't have anything you'd like to move into our apartment."

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. It was getting annoying. "Let it drop, Chuck. I told you, I was always moving, so I don't have a room full of stuff in my apartment." And she had always been ready to move. Just in case.

"You probably just don't want others to know that you collect plush animals," Chuck said with a slightly forced-looking smile.

But she accepted his peace proposal and laughed. "Of course!"

Casey was already in The Castle, cleaning one of his guns. He grunted a greeting at them. "Trouble getting rid of his toys?"

"We're not getting rid of my valuable merchandise," Chuck corrected him.

The other agent scoffed. "Geek toys aren't valuable."

"See, that's where you are wrong!" Chuck retorted. "Many so-called geeks are earning high incomes, and are quite willing to spend a lot of money on nostalgia. That a fact."

"Good for you. You'll be able to get rid of your crap and make a profit, then."

"I told you, it's not crap!"

"He's just jealous that his signed picture of Reagan is worth less than your first-edition Nintendo," Sarah said.

Chuck opened his mouth, probably to correct her about the name of his video game console, when he saw her smirk. His pout looked cute.

Then the general appeared on the screen - it still hurt a little to not see the director there as well - and the briefing started.

"Good evening, agents, Mr Bartowski. I'll be brief. We have discovered that a Fulcrum agent stole one of the backups for the Intersect. Fortunately, it's encrypted so they won't be able to use the information. However, according to our information, they have hired a specialist, Von Hayes, to decrypt the data. You will infiltrate his home and retrieve the stolen data before he can finish his task."

Sarah nodded. A standard retrieval mission.

"Agent Walker, Mr Bartowski, you will be posing as a freshly married couple. Agent Casey will be posing as a waiter."

That was a surprise. Sarah was about to protest Chuck's inclusion - he wasn't trained for this, and she was certain the general had an ulterior motive for the assignment - but then she saw Chuck's smile and held her tongue.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, November 26th, 2007

A freshly married couple. Sarah and himself. Trying to get some privacy which would provide them with the excuse to wander around in Hayes's home and search the stolen data. Chuck liked that idea. It was also an easy cover, in his opinion.

Sarah glanced towards him for a moment, then focused back on the road. "Hm?"

Oh. He must have said that out loud, Chuck realised. "I meant it'll be an easy cover story," he repeated. "Freshly married?"

"Ah." She didn't sound as optimistic or enthusiastic, though. "It might be a little more difficult than you expect."

He refrained from frowning. "Difficult?" He could play the affectionate newly-wed husband. He just had to be - mostly - himself. Did she mean she had trouble with this? Did that mean she didn't feel...

"It's easier to get distracted if there are real emotions," she went on, and he felt his heart beating again and his stomach recovering. "We'll have to both make it look believable and remain alert and focused on our mission."

He nodded, leaning back as they entered the road leading to their home. "Of course." He could do that. How difficult could it be?

California, Burbanks, Buy More, November 27th, 2007

Jeff, who had finally been coaxed out of the maze below the Buy More a few days ago, and Lester were not only already present, but actually behind the computer at the Nerd Herd desk, apparently working hard when Chuck arrived in the morning. That meant they were up to no good, as Chuck's long experience with the two Nerd Herders told him.

They didn't seem to be paying any attention to the store, which made it easy for him to sneak up on them despite his muscles still aching a little from last evening's training. He peered over their shoulders at the screen and had to make an effort not to gasp in surprise - they were actually looking over the scheduled tech support calls for today. He had expected them to watch porn on company time and money.

Which meant that they had been possessed, replaced by doppelgangers, or they had some scheme going that required legit work. He cleared his throat, and both of them gasped and jerked, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Chuck! Good morning! Excellent morning, actually! So good we decided to come in early, and do some early hard work, right?" Lester babbled.

Jeff nodded rapidly.

Definitely something fishy going on. Chuck crossed his arms and stared at them, trying to project Casey.

"Uh…" Lester swallowed, growing a little pale, and Jeff started to sweat, looking around.

"Out with it, guys: What is your scheme?" Chuck snapped.

"Uh… scheme? What scheme?" Jeff tried to lie at the same time Lester said: "It was his idea. I told him it wasn't the best idea, but..."

"Hey! It was your idea!"

"No, it wasn't!"

"Guys!"

"It was."

"I had a hypothetical idea!"

"Guys!" Chuck snapped, slapping his hand down on the desk and rattling the screen. "What is your scheme?"

"We hope to sell enough discounted music equipment to a new music school to get to use their rehearsal room for free!" Lester blurted out.

"I didn't know we had so much discounted music equipment," Chuck said. Discounts usually were applied to TVs and stereos - things that tended to become obsolete quite quickly and attracted customers to the store.

"Err... we kind of…" Jeff swallowed.

"It's a proposal," Lester cut in. "A well prepared, well-thought-out proposal, with everything ready so, should you think it's a good idea, you can implement it with one mouse click."

Both were beaming very forced smiles at him.

Chuck clenched his teeth. "You were trying to make it look like I had approved of this." Big Mike would have had his head. Well, the CIA would probably have stepped in, but still, Jeff and Lester wouldn't know that - they still thought Mr Colt's mercenaries had been robbers. They hadn't even had to use the second cover story, of Chuck accidentally taking their hard drive with all their banking information with him during a tech support job.

"No, no, honest, we weren't!"

"It was his idea."

Both were backing up rapidly - until they bumped into Casey, who had come up from behind them. "Trouble, Bartowski?" he asked in a growling voice, gripping their shoulders and keeping them from fleeing.

Chuck smiled as the two miscreants whimpered.

California, Malibu Beach, Hayes Villa, November 28th, 2007

Hayes was living the life Chuck had, once, before his expulsion from Stanford, expected to live. The life of Charles Carmichael: A semi-retired, rich computer specialist with a villa on the beach. It was a great villa, too - floor to ceiling windows, free view of the sea, large pool in the garden, and almost enough bedrooms to fit a basketball team.

Of course, Chuck hadn't planned to make his money helping various criminals, as Hayes was supposedly doing, but he hadn't planned to be taking part in a CIA operation on US soil either, had he?

On the other hand, his plans - more like dreams - for a girlfriend had been rather vague, he added to himself when he glanced at Sarah. She looked perfect in her hot red dress, slit all the way to her hip on one side. Classy but sexy. Oh, if this were a real date… It provided easy access to the thigh-holster on her other leg as well.

But he was on a mission, so he grabbed a glass from a passing waitress and took a sip. "The style clashes a little with the other art," he commented in a not quite bored tone, nodding at a particularly ugly painting, "but it has a certain je ne sais quoi."

Sarah, trained spy she was, didn't snort and nodded in agreement, but after a few days spent picking prints for their apartment, he could tell that she shared his real opinion.

"Good eye!" one of the other guests - a businessman Chuck hadn't flashed on, but that didn't mean he was clean - commented. "I have a piece by the same artist myself."

"Worth looking into, then," Chuck said, wrapping an arm around Sarah's waist and pulling her closer, "since we have a little love nest to decorate!"

Sarah nodded, running a hand over his back. "Oh, yes," she breathed more than she talked, "we found the perfect home over near Hollywood. But the furniture is so out of date!"

"We've been looking for an interior decorator, but we keep getting distracted," Chuck added with a wide grin, flashing his fake wedding band with all the subtlety of the nouveaux riches.

That earned them understanding smiles from the other guests, as they walked over to the buffet. "Nothing in this room," Chuck reported in a whisper. "Moving on to the other rooms."

"Roger," Casey, posing as a waiter, replied through their comms.

They grabbed some of the excellent hors-d'oeuvres, putting on a little show of feeding each other a bite, then snuck away from the party's other guests. Sarah pulled him into a small alcove next to the stairs, and they kissed, arms wrapped around each other. She rubbed her leg over his thigh, and he ran his hands over her bare back. Oh…

Both were breathing heavily when they pulled apart, and Chuck was really grateful that he was wearing a tailored suit.

"So…" She glanced around. "Anything?"

What? Oh, yes. The mission. He shook his head. "No." He hadn't flashed on anything. He hadn't looked at much, either, but he didn't think Hayes would hide the stolen data in the hallway or on the stairs. "Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied.

Chuck didn't flash on anything upstairs in the hallway, the small sitting room, on the balcony, or in the home cinema room - not quite as up to date as the one in the Buy More, he noticed. But both needed to adjust their clothes a few times, and Sarah's hairstyle looked a little less perfect now. And Chuck really, really wanted to check Hayes's bedroom. Or any bedroom.

Which wasn't a bad idea, of course - plenty of people hid things in the bedroom. "We should look for his bed," he whispered. "Or his desk."

Sarah nodded, and he caught her licking her lips. "Yes, we should."

They found Hayes's desk first. Which was the perfect height, Chuck noted. Or would have been, if they weren't on a mission.

"Anything?" Sarah asked, looking around.

Chuck shook his head. The office was perfectly ordinary, down to the boring art on the walls. "Safe behind the blue painting," he commented.

"Did you flash?"

"No. But the wall's thick enough there, without any need for it." Studying interior decoration had its uses.

She nodded. "Cracking it will take some…" She trailed off, looking towards the door. "Someone's coming," she hissed.

Damn. Chuck looked around. Perhaps they could hide under the desk?

But Sarah grabbed him and dragged him to the desk.

Of course, their cover!

Chuck didn't have to act flustered when, less than a minute later, the door was opened, and Hayes and a woman stared at them. "Uh… you see, we were looking for…." he started to say as Sarah readjusted her dress.

Then he flashed on the woman. And blinked, trying to hide his reaction. She was 'Juliette' - a Fulcrum agent! A highly-skilled assassin!

Hayes shook his head, grimacing, and stared at his desk. "I work here!" he blurted out.

"Uh, sorry…" Chuck forced himself to smile. "We were, you know, just… uh, we haven't actually…"

"Get out!" Hayes snapped.

"Getting out! Getting out!" Chuck said as he walked - quite quickly - past the man and the assassin, followed by Sarah.

As soon as they were out of the office, with the door closed behind them, Chuck turned. "Sarah!" he whispered. "That's Juliette, a Fulcrum agent! She must be here to get the stolen data!"

Sarah nodded. "Let's talk there," she whispered back, glancing towards another small alcove.

"Uh, ok." Shouldn't they charge inside and take her down?

"Cover me!" Sarah whispered, stepping into the alcove. He followed, blocking her from view, as she pulled out an earbud. "I placed a microphone under his seat," she whispered.

Oh. Of course she would have thought ahead.

She handed another bud to him, then hugged him as they listened.

"…is my chip?"

"I'm working on the data. You don't crack the best encryption the CIA has in a few days!"

"You did it before."

"They changed their codes."

"But not their encryption algorithm. What game are you playing, Mr Hayes?"

"I'm not playing any game! I just didn't manage to decrypt the data, yet. I've got obligations as well! It'll be ready tomorrow!"

"That's a really precise estimate for such a complicated cypher, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I think you already decrypted the data, and now you're considering looking for another buyer, Mr Hayes."

"That's preposterous!"

"Is it? Where is the chip? It's not in your computer."

"What? You broke into my…"

"Where is the chip?"

"If you kill me, you'll never find it!"

Chuck gasped. They had to intervene! They had to… He heard running steps. Someone was coming! Several people!

"If you don't hand the chip over at once, you'll wish I'd kill you."

Before he could think of what to do, Sarah was kissing him. Oh, of course. Their cover.

He saw three men run past him, towards Hayes's office, pistols drawn. Hayes must have alerted them, somehow. They didn't hesitate and charged straight into the room.

"Drop the..."

Shots rang out, someone screamed, and Sarah pushed past him, her own pistol drawn already, and ran towards the office. He followed her, but she was outpacing him.

One of Hayes's bodyguards was on the ground in the hallway, a pool of blood spreading out beneath him. Sarah reached the door and dived inside. More shots followed.

He reached the door himself and peered around the frame. Another bodyguard was down, Sarah was shooting - he could just see her arms - and… He gasped. Something round was flying towards him. A grenade!

He threw himself into the room, away from the door, and landed on the floor, hands pressed against his ears, a moment before the grenade went off and he felt as if someone had hit his back while smoke and dust filled the room.

"Chuck?"

Coughing, he managed to answer. "Sarah?" He was lying in something wet. Wet and sticky. He blinked. Blood. He was lying in a pool of blood. Oh my God! He had been hurt! He was bleeding! He blinked. No, he wasn't hurting. And he could move.

He quickly patted himself down, trying to cover his back. It didn't hurt. Not much. Nothing like a wound bleeding so much should…

The dust settled, and he realised that he was lying in the blood of the third bodyguard. He scrambled back, trying not to retch.

"Chuck!"

"It's not my blood!" he yelled. "Where's Hayes?" He couldn't see either Juliette or Hayes. But the door to the balcony was open.

"Hayes is running, chased by a Fulcrum agent, Juliette," Sarah reported - to Casey, Chuck realised. "They were heading towards the garage." She looked at Chuck.

He managed to get on his feet. That was one suit ruined. "Let's go!" he said, with more confidence than he felt. He didn't want to look back at what was left of the bodyguard in the hallway, where the grenade had gone off.

After a moment's hesitation, Sarah nodded, turned, and vaulted over the railing.

Chuck suppressed a gasp and ran after her - though he lowered himself from the railing first, before jumping the rest of the way. He wasn't armed, anyway, and if he broke an ankle, he would be completely useless.

He reached the garage in time to see a Lamborghini race away, with Casey and Sarah shooting at it. And Chuck flashed.

"The chip! It's hidden on his car keys!" he blurted out.

"Good work, Bartowski," Casey grumbled. "If we'd have known this half an hour earlier, it would have been actually useful."

"I can't control my flashes!" Chuck retorted. He was doing the best he could.

"Well, work on that. We can't afford to fail our missions," the agent replied, walking off while Chuck shook his head.

"That's…"

"Chuck? Are you alright?"

He glanced at Sarah. She looked a little dishevelled. More than she had been. "Are you alright?"

"I fought Juliette," she said. "She escaped, though."

Hayes and the Fulcrum agent escaped? The general wouldn't be pleased.

California, Burbank, The Castle, November 28th, 2007

The general wasn't pleased, indeed. "You lost the chip, Hayes and the enemy agent. In other words, this mission was a complete failure."

Chuck glanced at the others. Casey nodded, but Sarah merely stared at the screen. Neither seemed to be about to say anything, though, so Chuck spoke up. "Uh, we confirmed the location of the chip, general. That's more than we had."

"And we prevented Fulcrum from obtaining it," Sarah added.

The general's frown deepened. "That the mission could have failed in an even worse way isn't a particularly convincing argument," she said. "While we are searching for him, realistically, we can only hope that Hayes has been disillusioned enough by the near assassination to seek our protection."

Casey grumbled something Chuck didn't catch, but the man nodded again, as did Sarah.

"Dismissed, agents, Mr Bartowski."

Chuck sighed as the screen turned dark. "That was a little unfair, wasn't it?"

"We failed the mission," Casey snapped.

"It wasn't our fault," Chuck retorted. Once more, he glanced at Sarah.

"We stuck to our orders, which were finding the chip's location," she said. That didn't sound like rousing support to Chuck.

Casey scoffed. "You should have taken out the enemy agent as soon as you saw her."

"I only told her when we were outside the office," Chuck pointed out.

Casey seemed to ignore him, though. "You didn't because that would have put Bartowski at risk, did you?"

She didn't! "Sarah?" Chuck asked, staring at her.

"I decided to gather more information. I didn't want to risk the mission if it turned out that Hayes didn't have the chip on him."

Casey didn't seem to believe her. "You were far quicker to act on other missions. We can't afford to have you play babysitter instead of doing your job. And Bartowski got almost killed today anyway."

"Chuck did well. It wasn't his fault," Sarah shot back.

"No, it was yours." Casey scoffed again and left The Castle.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, November 28th, 2007

"I'm not a hindrance, am I?" Chuck asked as they were leaving The Castle.

Sarah had expected the question ever since Casey's accusations. "No, you're not," she told him, trying to sound as convincing as she could. She wasn't exactly lying, either.

"But if you had been with Casey, you would have stopped Juliette and Hayes."

He was too damn perspective for his own good. Sarah shook her head. "He wouldn't have spotted the chip. Nor would he have recognised the enemy spy."

He didn't seem to be listening. "And you wouldn't have waited to see if he were really alright if he had told you he was fine."

Casey was expendable, and Chuck wasn't. Chuck was the Intersect. "We can't lose you," she told him. I can't lose you. "You're the Intersect."

After a moment, he nodded. "But I'm no real spy, and that is a hindrance."

"You're working on that." And he wasn't doing badly - for a civilian.

"But is it enough? How long until I'm a real spy?" She was about to point out that many spies had less training than he was getting when he added: "I mean like you and Casey."

"That will take a long while," she said. "But the level we were when we started? That's entirely possible." She reached out and touched his cheek. "It still won't be easy, though."

"As long as I don't have to go to Parris Island," he said.

It wasn't a very good joke, and he didn't look like he thought it was very funny himself, but she laughed anyway.

It was progress.

California, Burbank, Buy More, November 29th, 2007

Chuck was feeling worse the next morning when he arrived at the Buy More. He shouldn't have been training this morning, not after a mission. But he'd had to do something. Anything. Though two sets of bruises didn't help. And Sarah might have been a little too enthusiastic as well.

Seeing Caridad in a Buy More uniform, though, made him forget about his bruises and aching muscles at once. "What?" he asked. Very eloquently.

She grinned - she wasn't tired, of course. Nor bruised. Slayers healed fast and didn't need much sleep. "Hi, Chuck!"

"What are you doing here?"

She pouted, but she was faking; he knew her well enough to tell. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Not when you're wearing a stolen Buy More uniform," he replied.

"It's not stolen," Morgan cut in. When had he arrived? And so early in the morning? "She's an official employee!"

"Temporary, of course," Caridad explained as Chuck blinked.

"Why…" She wouldn't be doing this just to chase him, would she? No. So… "The demon hunters," he stated.

"Yes!" She grinned. "The poachers went after Jeff in his favourite bar, so they know who he is. Which means they know where he works since he usually goes straight there from work."

"He's holed up in the catacombs again, isn't he?" Chuck asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Both his friends nodded. "Safely out of the way," Morgan added, "while we wait for the poachers to make a move."

And he was down one Nerd Herder again. Chuck sighed.

California, Los Angeles, Atwater Village, November 30th, 2007

Chuck wasn't certain that he should be at the meeting. He wasn't a trained spy. Not even a half-trained. Perhaps a ten percent trained. Mostly theory. And he felt like a fake wearing the black pants and turtleneck outfit - unlike Sarah's, his didn't hide a ton of weapons. But after Casey's remarks about him, Chuck wouldn't say anything. Besides, he was the only one who could identify the chip - with or without flashing.

So, he was pulling his weight. Sort of. As a geek. And only because Bryce was dead, or Bryce could have done this - he had also been at Stanford, and he had even graduated. Chuck sighed as he leaned against the black sedan they were using for this mission and stared at the construction site around them.

"Don't worry, Chuck," Sarah said with a smile. "Hayes will show up. We're the only ones who can protect him against Fulcrum."

This wasn't the time to correct her misperceptions about the reasons for his sombre mood, so he nodded. "I just feel a little exposed," he not-quite-lied.

"Casey's on overwatch with a sniper rifle."

"Wouldn't help against a blood sucker." In Sunnydale, this would have been suicide. Hanging out at a deserted construction site at night? Might as well slather yourself with ketchup and enter a demon bar. Heh, he hadn't really thought about Sunnydale in some time.

"It will help if I blow their heads clean off, and this rifle can do this," Chuck heard Casey in his ear bud. "No head means they dust."

"Dusting? You're talking like a Scoobie!" Chuck replied, forcing himself to grin - the NSA agent could see him, after all. "Caridad's rubbing off on you?"

Casey scoffed but didn't answer. Chuck counted that as a point.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did it. He was about to defend himself - a little teasing helped build a team, after all, as the Buy More crowd demonstrated - when he heard a car engine and Sarah's smile vanished.

Showtime.

Hayes was in his Lamborghini. Sloppy, Chuck thought. Even he knew that the car had been compromised, whether or not Juliette had seen the man drive off. "I can see why he needs help," he whispered as he pushed off their own, far less conspicuous car and assumed a more spy-like pose. Carmichael time.

Hayes got out of his car with a suitcase in hand. "Mr and Mrs Carmichael?" he asked. He hadn't changed clothes either, or so it seemed. Survival instincts of a lemming, Casey would say, even though that was actually a myth based upon a stupid fake nature documentation.

Chuck nodded. "Yes. Sorry about your desk, but we were maintaining our cover," he added with a grin.

Hayes chuckled, but it didn't sound convincing. "I don't think I'll ever have the opportunity to use that desk again anyway."

Chuck nodded again. "It wouldn't be advisable. Do you have the chip?" he asked, glancing at the suitcase, but looking for the man's keychain. There!

"Yes. As long as you get me out of this, it's yours."

"We keep our side of a deal." Most of the time. When it was convenient. Chuck knew that thanks to the Intersect. Still, Hayes would be safe - if the CIA broke such deals, they wouldn't get many more deserters once it'd spread. And it would.

"Good. So, how do we do this?"

"You'll come with us. Ditch the car," Sarah explained. "We'll take you to a safe house and then set up a new identity for you."

"And the money?" Hayes asked.

"Part of your new identity," Sarah replied. "We'll…"

"Incoming!" Casey's voice interrupted them. "Two cars just drove through the southern gate."

What? How had Fulcrum managed to find them? Only Chuck's team, the General and Hayes knew about this…

"Did you contact Fulcrum?" Sarah asked with a snarl.

Hayes growing pale and starting to tremble was answer enough. "But… they couldn't track me!" He whirled, starting to run towards his car when the first shots rang out from above

Chuck was already moving, charging forward and tackling Hayes before the man managed to open the door of his car. They rolled over the dusty concrete and Chuck grabbed Hayes's keychain. "Stay with us if you want to live!" he snapped.

Sarah was at their side, gun drawn and looking around. Chuck heard shots fired, then metal getting torn and warped.

"One car dealt with," Casey announced. "Changing position."

Which meant there was one car full of enemies left.

"Get to the car!" Sarah snapped.

Chuck didn't argue. "Get up!" he yelled, pulling at Hayes. The man had gone limp.

"But… how did they track me?"

"Worry later! We have to get away!"

Sarah was shooting now, covering them.

Despite her fire, bullets struck the concrete near their feet as Chuck reached their car. Hayes shrieked, but Chuck dragged him on. You didn't stop when running or you died.

He reached the car, ducking his head as a few more bullets ricocheted off the concrete around them, and pulled the door open. "Get inside!"

Hayes crawled inside and Chuck had to push him to the passenger side. "Sarah!"

"Get Hayes to safety! We'll extract on foot!" she yelled back.

Chuck hesitated a moment. Leaving Sarah? In the middle of a fight? But… She was the trained spy. He had to trust her. And do his job. Like a spy.

He gunned the engine, trying to ignore the shots pinging against the armoured windows and sides, and drove away.

And felt like a coward.

Sarah crouched behind the Lamborghini, performing a tactical reload. That left her with one full magazine in her pistol, and a half-full in her belt.

And a highly-skilled assassin hiding in the half-built mall in front of her. She would have to remember to pack more ammunition next time.

"Relocating," she heard Casey through their radio.

"Copy," she replied. The other agent would take a few minutes to reach another sniping spot, though, since he couldn't leave the back of the building open and allow Juliette to escape.

And the assassin would try to escape, now that Chuck - sensibly - had retreated with Hayes.

Sarah took a deep breath and used the bent mirror on the sports car to check the front of the unfinished building. Juliette would know Casey was moving. And she had seen him take out her minions.

But the enemy agent had fought Sarah. And that had been a close, ultimately inconclusive fight. Would she try to go through her, or try to go through Casey?

Sarah grinned despite herself. Juliette would want a rematch, Sarah was certain - she wanted one herself, after all.

And she had prepared for it. Juliette liked to use grenades. Both to provide cover for herself, and to kill her enemies. But she'd have to get closer to throw one.

Sarah slid around the car and took cover behind its engine block, scanning the building in front of her. Where… There! Something small and round was arcing towards Sarah.

She reacted at once, vaulting over the car to take cover on the other side. And triggering the explosives she and Casey had set inside the unfinished mall beforehand.

The grenade went off behind her, wrecking the sports car, as the pressure wave from her charges washed over her. Ears ringing, she jumped up and charged forward, gun ready. Juliette had been around… She stopped and stared, pressing her lips together.

"Juliette's been neutralised," she informed Casey.

"Guess she could dish it out but couldn't take it, huh?"

Sarah ignored the quip. "Chuck, status?" His radio should still be in range, if barely.

"Uh… we're on the highway, as planned," he said, the last part telling her that they had the chip.

"Good. Proceed to the safe house."

She flicked her radio off as Casey rounded the corner. He raised an eyebrow at Juliette's remains, but didn't react otherwise.

"Chuck did good," Sarah told him.

She took his grunt as grudging agreement.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, December 1st, 2007

Chuck was already missing the shelf full of his gaming merchandise and selected boxes. And the Master Chief's helmet had been banished to his room from his place of honour on the living room wall. And half his movie posters - gone.

"Is this still crooked?"

Sarah's question startled him, and as he looked up, he found her frowning at him from her perch on top of the ladder, holding the painting that was replacing his Super Mario Bros poster. "Uh… no, no, it's fine."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We should have bought the mechanic's level," she said.

"No, no, it's not crooked. Really." He smiled at her.

He was missing his posters and toys. And the gaming couch.

But it was a small price to pay for living with Sarah.

Even if the painting - modern art - looked a little crooked now, that he really looked at it, instead of at his love.