Chapter 4: The High School Reunion Part 1

California, Burbank, Buy More, December 3rd, 2007

"Hi, Chuck!"

"Good morning, Caridad." Chuck smiled, though it was a little forced. Seeing Caridad in the Buy More uniform was still a little disconcerting. And not just because it meant that Jeff was still hiding, which in turn meant someone had to fill in for the missing half-demon. And Caridad couldn't do it since she wasn't exactly a computer expert. Quite the contrary, actually. "What's up?" No reason to be rude, of course - she was a friend and meant well.

"Nothing new. Got three bloodsuckers last night, and one Polgara demon. But the poachers didn't do anything." She pouted. "Cowards must be hiding!"

Chuck's smile slipped. "They're just being smart. They must know they have no chance against you." Just like following orders didn't make you a coward - not if the orders made sense. Probably.

Caridad scoffed. "If you're hunting demons, you've got no excuse for hiding from a Slayer!"

Chuck didn't exactly agree with that - there were many reasons for hiding from Caridad, for example - but he nodded anyway. "I guess so. Well, time to start the daily grind."

"Have fun. I'll be guarding the store." She waved and disappeared between the toaster and mixer aisles while he blinked. She hadn't tried to flirt with him at all. What did that mean? Had she finally accepted that he wasn't interested? And what was that about guarding the store? Now that he was thinking about it...

"Hi, Chuck!"

"Morgan!" Chuck nodded. "What's Caridad actually doing in the store? I don't remember her appearing on any employee table…"

"Doing?" Morgan looked honestly confused. "She's guarding the store and looking for the poachers."

Meaning, she wasn't doing anything. "On the Buy More payroll." They were bankrolling the Council.

His friend nodded. "Of course - it's her cover. Like you and Casey."

"Morgan, we're actually doing the work for which we're getting paid by the store." Well, mostly. When national security was at stake, you had to set priorities. Spy privileges.

"Really?" Morgan shook his head. "Why are you doing that? Isn't your spy job more important than managing the store here?"

"Well, yes, but it's my cover. Which is also very important."

"Wow, glad I'm going to be a Watcher and not a spy," Morgan said. "As soon as I'm a full Watcher, I'm quitting here. Can't really work two full-time jobs, can I?"

"Many people actually have two jobs," Chuck told him.

"Well, yeah, but how many of them are working jobs where a mistake means people die?" Morgan shook his head again. "No, dude, I'm going to need time to rest and relax, or I'll burn out. Remember how stressed Buffy and the others were in school?"

"I think that was because of all the fighting they did," Chuck replied. "And because of Snyder."

"I think it was because they had no time to relax. And because of Snyder, of course. Well, I'm off to check on Jeff. Can you cover for me for the next half an hour?"

"Uh, sure," Chuck said, blinking.

"Thanks!"

Chuck frowned as he watched Morgan enter the staff area. What his friend was saying made sense. But would the CIA make such an obvious mistake?

He'd have to ask Sarah. But first, he had to check the schedule for today. Big Mike would get loud if they couldn't cover all of today's support jobs.

Alright, if he shuffled the kitchen shifts around and had Casey cover the home entertainment sector in the afternoon, and Morgan fill in at the Nerd Herd desk, Chuck could take that house call at three, which meant...

"Hi, Chuck!"

He didn't gasp - he was merely startled a little noisily. "Sarah!" He glanced at his watch. "Oh my god! I missed our break! I'm so sorry, but Lester got a cold, and Jeff's still missing in action, and so we're down two Nerd Herders, and the Hoover guys are holding a seminar for their latest model today, which means we're down two more employees…"

"I suspected that," she said with a smile.

"You did?"

"We've got your computer system tapped."

"Oh." He frowned, "When did you do that?" And why hadn't he noticed.

"Bryce did it. Casey found the links."

"Ah." Of course. Typical of Bryce. The guy probably hacked the system for Chuck's own good and deleted some calls. Well… there had been complaints about missed appointments which had never been in the system, now that Chuck thought about it. "I see."

"So," she leaned forward on his desk, which really made him appreciate the cut of her uniform top, "let's take our break now?"

"Alright!" he agreed, quickly logging off - you never left your computer unattended while logged into the system. Even with Jeff and Lester missing.

"Jenny? Jenny Burton? It is you!"

Chuck looked up and saw that Sarah had frozen up while a tanned blonde woman was clasping her hands and beaming at her. "It's me! Heather Chandler! We went to high school together!"

Jenny Burton? Sarah hadn't been a spy in high school, had she?

She wasn't Jenny Burton. She was Sarah Walker. Now. She had never been Jenny Burton. It had just been another fake identity, courtesy of her father, the conman. She was Sarah Walker. And she had to deal with this problem.

Sarah forced herself to smile. "Heather, of course!" she said.

"Well, Heather Ratner now - I married Mark Ratner," the blonde said. "You remember Mark?"

Sarah did. The class nerd. An outsider like herself had been. Dick Duffy used to stuff Mark into his own locker at least once a week - to the amusement of Heather the cheerleader. Yes, Sarah remembered Mark. And Heather. "I do," she said.

"He's an engineer now, you know," Heather went on. That Sarah hadn't known. Not that she cared. "And what about you?" The blonde pointedly looked at Sarah's waitressing uniform.

"I'm the owner-operator of the Wienerlicious," Sarah said, feeling, once again, the urge to hurt whoever had picked her cover story.

"That's great! You were such a shy girl in high school!" Heather's voice dripped with the same fake sincerity that she had used so much on 'Jenny'. Sarah wanted to hurt her.

"Really?" Chuck blurted out, and Sarah had to suppress the urge to kick his shin.

Heather looked at Chuck as if she saw him for the first time.

"Hi, I'm Chuck." He smiled at her. "Her boyfriend," he added, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulder.

"Oh!" Heather smiled again. "You work here?"

"Assistant manager," Chuck confirmed.

"That's great!" Heather repeated herself.

"Yes," Sarah lied. She had to deal with this potential breach of security - her cover was in danger. Killing Heather, although effective, would be excessive, though. Probably. No matter how cathartic it would be.

"Oh, Mark! Mark! Come! You'll never guess who I met - Jenny, Jenny Burton!" Heather waved at a tall, thin man walking towards them.

"Hi!"

"You remember her, from high school, right?" Heather didn't wait for his reply. "And that's her boyfriend, Chuck."

"Hi," Chuck said. He seemed to have - finally - understood that this was a problem.

"We'd love to chat," Sarah said, "but our break's over."

"Oh, we didn't ruin your break, did we?" Heather pressed a hand to her mouth like she did in school when she faked compassion. "We'll have to make it up to you! Let's have dinner together! Our treat!"

Sarah was about to politely - or not so politely if dear old Heather couldn't take a hint - decline when she noticed that Chuck was blinking. No, flashing.

"Uh… sure, sure," he said.

She smiled as sweetly as she could. "Of course, it'll be great," she lied.

Chuck better had a really good reason for this.

California, Burbank, The Castle, December 3rd, 2007

"What were you thinking?" Sarah rounded on him as soon as he entered the base.

"I flashed on the guy - and this was an opportunity to learn more about him," Chuck defended himself. And it was an opportunity to learn more about Sarah's past.

"And if your former classmates are a problem, dinner with them will provide us with opportunities to eliminate them," Casey added.

"Uh… we wouldn't actually kill people for knowing about Sarah's mysterious and confusing past as a teenage spy?" Chuck said, chuckling at his own joke.

The distinct lack of immediate denials and Sarah's glare weren't good signs, in Chuck's opinion.

"We would eliminate them if they're traitorous scum," Casey said, dropping a file on the table. "Mark Ratner works at Winthrop-Keller Aerodynamics. He has access to top-secret weapon technology in development."

"That was fast," Chuck said. Big Mike's announcement about his fishing vacation had held up Chuck while Sarah had gone back to the base, but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. "How did you…" He blinked and stared at the wall where... "We got a new computer? Oh my God! It's a DU-97! Freon-cooled! Thirty teraflop architecture! Special modules for cryptographic and facial recognition!"

"Please have your geekgasm where I cannot see it," Casey drawled. "And don't break the computer. Don't hump it, either!"

Chuck was about to educate the barbarian just how great this computer was when the general appeared on the screen. "Agents, Mr Bartowski. Good initiative there - we've been tracking leaked future technology, and Mr Ratner is one of the people with access to the sensitive data in question. You will use this opportunity to find out if he's the leak."

"What about the threat to my cover?" Sarah asked.

"Your pre-existing social history with the targets provides the perfect cover for this mission. Its results will determine if and which steps we'll have to take to protect your current cover."

That sounded ominous, Chuck thought. Very ominous.

But not as ominous as the fact that the general was referring to Sarah's 'current cover'.

California, Burbank, Buy More, December 3rd, 2007

If there was one good thing to the whole 'Poacher' affair, it was the fact that Chuck could leave the Buy More for a briefing without the staff making a mess out of the store in Big Mike's absence. No one was organising a pallet carrier race in the magazine, there wasn't a game tournament being held in the home entertainment display room, and no women were standing in line at customer service to complain about remote-controlled cars trying to take upskirt pictures.

In short, the store looked almost ordinary as Chuck and Casey returned. Almost, since Caridad was staring at a couple browsing the aisles of the home appliance section with all the subtle menace of a stalking cougar.

She didn't even turn when he walked up to her and cleared his throat. "Uh, Caridad?"

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

She sniffed the air. "They smell like demons," she said.

"The couple?"

"No, the toasters they are comparing."

If not for her sarcastic tone, Chuck would have seriously considered that. It wouldn't have been the first case of a demonic possession of a device, after all, and such a thing might explain some of the antics of the staff. Like the break room cage fights over who got the last free snack. "Ah," he said. "And have they done anything suspicious?"

"They passed a perfectly good toaster that would have fit their professed requirements and was thirty per cent off - much cheaper than the overpriced pieces of crap they are arguing about."

It seemed that, although Caridad wasn't exactly working for the Buy More, she had picked up more than a little of the staff's knowledge - and attitude. "You, uh, won't kill them for spending more money than they need, will you? That would run directly counter to the store's goals, you know."

That earned him an eye roll. "This might be an act so they have an excuse to spend more time in the store, looking for Jeff. They could be scouts for the poachers!"

"Ah." It was possible. Theoretically. "Wouldn't they hang out in the electronics section instead?" Jeff's uniform, which he often enough wore when going drinking after work, made it clear that he wasn't working the floor in home appliances.

"That's what we'd expect," Caridad retorted. She sniffed the air again. "If they don't buy something in the next five minutes, I'm going to put the fear of the Slayer into them!"

He hoped that demons and half-demons weren't responsible for a significant part of the Buy More's profits, or Big Mike would probably blame Chuck for the loss of revenue in his absence.

California, Burbank, Wienerlicious, December 3rd, 2007

One of the disadvantages of Sarah's cover were lunch hours. Namely, that Chuck either had to take an early or a late lunch if he wanted to spend it with Sarah since she usually was swamped at noon. But he was getting used to it. Eating a power bar at eleven am also helped with waiting until half past one pm. If he could keep Caridad from raiding his stack.

The way Sarah's face lit up with a smile when she saw him entering the shop helped more, of course. "Hi, Chuck."

"Hi, Sarah." He held up the takeaway boxes. "I got us pad thai."

She wasn't smiling as much as usual, though. Almost a little subdued, or so it seemed to him as they sat down after flipping the 'closed' sign. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes."

Which, even he was aware of that, now, meant 'no'.

"So, how are you managing the store with Big Mike being on vacation?" Sarah asked before he could think of a good way to probe for more information, as Casey would call it.

"Uh, as usual," he replied. "I'm doing what I am doing anyway. Big Mike usually handles human resources and the franchise, and those can wait for a few days."

"How's Caridad doing?"

He frowned. Sarah usually never asked after the Slayer. "She's scaring away the demon-scented customers."

She nodded without reacting to his joke. "No news from the poachers, then?"

"No." This felt like a diversion to him. Time to address the crux of the issue: "Are you concerned about the mission?"

She stared at him. "Heather's part of a past I left behind," she said after a few seconds that felt much longer and more uncomfortable than he had expected.

"Ah." He really wanted to know more about that. "A past named Jenny Burton."

He didn't flinch under her glare. Not really. "An alias," she said.

Had she really been a teenage spy? Undercover at high school? "Classified?"

"Yes."

"But Heather and Mark don't know that," he pointed out.

"No, they don't."

"And you don't like that they could reveal information about your past. Classified information."

"I almost hope that they are enemy spies so we can eliminate them," she said.

This time, he flinched. Her past must be a really touchy subject.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, December 3rd, 2007

"Uh, you know, we never really talked about our high school days." As soon as he had said it, Chuck wanted to wince. That had sounded much better in his head. Smoother, too.

Sarah turned away from their new armoire and stared - glared - at him. "And now's the time?"

"Uh… well, kind of?" He smiled and picked up a pair of dress trousers, Charles Carmichael style. "Do you think those are a little overkill? Or just right for an assistant manager at the Buy More dressing up?" At her frown, he added: "Our cover is that we're trying to impress the cheerleader who married the geek after dating jocks during high school and now thinks she's better than her old school friends? Or something like that?"

She frowned at him for a moment longer, then sighed. "We were never friends."

"I, uh, gathered that. I think." He wet his lips, then ploughed on: "She reminds me of Cordelia. Well, the Cordelia of Sunnydale High School."

"Your friend who died?"

"She wasn't my friend in high school. Queen bee - or queen bitch, as Morgan used to call her - of the school. Rich, arrogant, and blunt to the point of rudeness. And past that." Fortunately, their paths hadn't crossed often.

"And popular," Sarah said.

"Oh, yes. Leader of the cheerleaders. And her family was at the top of the social pecking order." Chuck nodded. "If she didn't like you, you were at the bottom of the totem pole. And she didn't like geeks."

"Like you and Morgan." Was that a sympathetic smile on her face?

"Well, we were more collateral damage. She was focusing on Willow, Xander and Jesse most of the time, and on Buffy for a while." He sat down on the new bed - a very good purchase. "Ellie was three years ahead of us, so she wasn't a target - she had a thing against smart people. Or people smarter than her."

"And yet, you became friends after Sunnydale." Sarah crossed her arms.

Oh. She probably thought he was trying to make her make up with Heather. "Kind of. She changed a lot. Had to change - her parents fled the IRS to South America and left her without a dime. I later heard she had to take a part-time job to buy her prom dress, and she left for Los Angeles after graduation, where she failed at becoming an actress before she got involved with a group of demon hunters and died to a curse or something." Best not to get into too much detail about Angel and his crew. "She didn't marry a geek for money."

Sarah snorted. "Unlike Heather, you mean?"

"Well, I don't know her, so it could be true love?" He grinned as she snorted again.

But she quickly grew serious once more and sat down next to him on the bed. "I don't know her well enough to tell."

"Well, you might, after this evening's dinner." He smiled encouragingly at her.

"You need to get better at fishing for information without giving the game away. If they are spies, they'll easily see through you," she said in a flat voice.

She was closing up again. Damn. "I didn't mean it like that," he protested.

"But you want to know why I don't want to talk about my high school days."

"Uh… yes. And why you were using a fake name." Her frown was growing more pronounced, but he kept talking. "I mean - I know I shouldn't, cover and top secret, and all, and if it's not even in your Intersect files, it's probably classified above my clearance, but…" He sighed. "I'm curious and can't help it. Sorry?" He smiled at her.

She sighed and shook her head, but she was smiling herself. "I wasn't a teenage spy, Chuck."

"Oh." He blinked. "That's kind of comforting. If the CIA recruited high schoolers, that'd be a reason to worry." Her expression grew bland, so he added: "You know, that's where you assure me that our employer wouldn't recruit teenagers as spies."

"Chuck, when we were looking into Sunnydale, Casey and I were angry at what we thought was a black op experimenting on teenagers to turn them into supersoldiers or assassins," she said after a moment.

"But you thought it was possible," he said before pressing his lips together.

"We wouldn't have expected such an operation on American soil," she told him.

"It's not the fifties any more, after all," he said. Then he sighed. No need to get into what the US army had gone into during the early part of the Cold War. "Anyway… so, is Jenny Burton your real name?" There. He had done it. Had asked what he really wanted to know.

"No," she replied without hesitation.

"Oh." But it was a fake name. A cover. And she hadn't been a spy, so that left… "Witness protection?"

She actually laughed at that, shaking her head. "My father was a conman, Chuck. I've grown up using half a dozen different identities as we moved around, always one step ahead of the law. Until the law caught up-"

Oh. Chuck hadn't expected that. He opened his mouth to ask for more details but reconsidered just in time.

After a moment, she nodded at him and stood to finish dressing. Which included hiding various weapons on her body. Lethal weapons.

Indeed, restraint was the order of the day, or curiosity might just kill the Chuck.

California, Los Angeles, Downtown Los Angeles, December 3rd, 2007

"Nice restaurant," Chuck commented as they parked their car - Sarah's sportscar.

"She picked that out to rub in the fact that she's rich and we're - as far as she knows - an IT support guy and a waitress."

"Shouldn't that be 'hostess' as owner-operator of the Wienerlicious?" Chuck's grin quickly died in the face of her glare. "Sorry!"

He saw her press her lips together. "Let's get this over with," she said and stalked towards the entrance, forcing him to hurry to catch up before they were in sight of the restaurant's guests.

"They're seated already," Sarah whispered as they entered. "Centre of the room."

He glanced over as the maître d' welcomed them. Indeed, they were there, watching them.

"Ratner party," Sarah said.

"Please follow me."

"Jenny! You made it!" Heather clasped her hands together and beamed at them as if that was a great achievement.

"Hello, Jenny, Charles." Mark, on the other hand, was much more restrained. Almost subdued.

"Of course we did," Sarah said with a smile that was as wide as Heather's. "We wouldn't miss this for the world!"

"I hope you like our choice of restaurant. You're working in the business, kind of, right?" Heater leaned forward a little.

"I'm the owner-operator of a speciality hot dog shop," Sarah replied. "My shop and this restaurant target different segments of the business."

"Oh, you sound like an expert. It's a career for you, then?"

"Yes," Sarah lied. "It's quite a challenge to manage my own business, but I'm doing well." She leaned over and wrapped her arm around Chuck's shoulder. "And I'm working right next to my boyfriend."

"You certainly wear the uniform very well. Is it your own design?" Without waiting for an answer, Heather went on. "Who would have thought our Jenny Burton from school would ever wear such clothes to work, right, Mark?"

"Uh, yes." Mark nodded, studying the wine selection that Casey, posing as a waiter, had brought to the table.

Chuck tried not to wince as Sarah's fingers dug a little too hard into his shoulder at the barb against Wienerlicious's uniforms. "Jenny looks good whatever she wears," he said with a forced smile. "Watch the Vulcan death grip!" he added under his breath, then managed not to sigh with relief when her grip relaxed.

"How nice of you to say!" Heather gushed. "How long have you been together?"

"Months," Sarah replied. "We met a few days before the opening of my shop."

"Oh, yes. I still remember the day she walked into the store," Chuck added. "Her phone had a malfunction - easily fixed - and that's how we met." He patted her hand on his shoulder and didn't have to fake his smile.

"Ah, yes - Jenny was always a little challenged by high tech," Heather commented. "It's good she's found a boyfriend who can help her out with that, right?"

And the Vulcan death grip was back.

"...and then Jenny stumbled into Marcy, dropping the whole pot. Paint went everywhere!" Heather laughed loudly at her own story.

Chuck laughed politely. It was actually a funny story, but he had no intention to risk Sarah's ire - her smile was showing enough teeth to make some demon species envious. He cleared his throat. "So, Mark, what do you do?" he said before Heather could launch into another 'Jenny Burton's spazzing days at high school' story.

Mark looked a little startled at the question. "Ah, I'm an engineer. I'm working at… well, it's actually top secret." And the man's smile, Chuck noticed, looked not really genuine. Although that could be because of his wife's thinly-veiled exchange of barbs with Sarah.

"Mark, no is interested in boring engineer tales."

Or it was because of his wife, period.

"So… do you ever go back to San Diego, Jenny? Visit your dad?"

Her father was in San Diego?

"He was released years ago," Sarah replied. "I don't have any contact with him. Haven't since high school."

Heather frowned for a moment, then turned to Chuck. "Do you know about her dad? Such a scandal back then! It was the talk of the school for weeks, right?!"

"Of course I know," Chuck said. "And I also know that it's in the past, and that we don't like to talk about it." He bared his teeth, a little, as he smiled. "So, Mark, you married your teenage sweetheart? The cheerleader and the future engineer?"

"Oh, no," Sarah cut in with a wide smile of her own. "In high school, Heather was always with the jocks. Didn't you date Dick Duffy?" She turned to Chuck. "He was always bullying the geeks, like Mark. Swirlies, wedgies, and lockers, you know."

"Ah, one of those," Chuck nodded and Chuck not to smile when Heather pressed her lips together.

"Oh, come on, Mark - that was ages ago!" Heather snapped. "You aren't having a flashback, are you? It was just some harmless teasing."

Mark was actually rather pale, Chuck noticed. And sweating - but certainly not because of school bullying, so… He turned his head to see what Mark was staring at and spotted two burly men at the bar in the foyer.

And he flashed.

Sergei Ivanov, former member of the KGB, went 'private' as an enforcer for the Russian Mob after 1991. Wanted for murder, extortion, kidnapping and smuggling. And, apparently, now involved in industrial or normal espionage.

Peter Karpov - no relation to the chess player - career mobster, spent more than half his life in various prisons. Suspected of several counts of murder, but there had never been enough proof to overcome his protection by certain high-ranking officials.

Chuck blinked. And Mark was afraid of them, which meant that he knew them. They were letting themselves be seen, which meant that they were here to put pressure on Mark, but they wouldn't go further. For now.

Which meant that something could be done about them. He pulled out his phone. "Sorry… my sister needs to know where the gas for the lawnmower is stored - we share the same yard, and she's a doctor, so she works odd hours," he told the rest at the table as he texted Casey with the two men's descriptions and summarised backgrounds.

"Your sister's a doctor?" Heather asked in what sounded honest surprise.

"Oh, yes, Ellie's great. She practically raised me for a few years after our parents went missing," Chuck said. 'Missing' had a slightly more permanent meaning in Sunnydale, of course, not that the Ratners would know that.

"Ah." The woman nodded. "Absent parents - something that you have in common," she added with fake sympathy.

Was she implying that his parents were crooks as well? Chuck clamped down on his anger and shrugged. "Well, they are officially missing, but we used to live in Sunnydale…"

"Oh." It seemed Heather wasn't a complete bitch - the insinuation that the Bartowskis had died when Sunnydale had disappeared into a sinkhole didn't leave her untouched. "You survived that?"

He nodded. "We were lucky." Lucky to get out of the town after graduation. "Not all of my class were as lucky, though." He sighed, a little too loudly, but it effectively killed that topic. "So, Mark, you work in San Diego?"

"Ah, yes, at Winthrop-Keller Aerodynamics," Mark relied, though his attention was still focused on the two drinking Russians.

"Mark!" Heather cut in. "Don't space out!" She turned to Chuck. "He's got a tendency to do that. A little like Jenny used to - she was such a spaz in high school!"

Chuck readjusted his impression of the woman's character downwards again. Even Cordelia at her worst would have showed more tact and certainly more subtlety. "Really?" He made an effort to sound very surprised. "She's one of the most focused women I know - and most of Ellie's friends are doctors, so the baseline's pretty high. One of the most graceful women, too," he added.

"Thank you, Chuck," Sarah said. There was a little tension in her voice - and in the hand she put on his - though.

Oh. Of course! The most focused and graceful women he knew were Slayers, and she would have realised that. "And, of course, the most beautiful," he said.

"Oh, how romantic!" So Heather could also do subtle - the sneering sarcasm was understated, but still rather clearly audible in her voice. "Did you hear that, Mark? Mark?"

"Ah, uh, yes?"

"Mark!" Heather snapped. "What's wrong with you? They will think you're being rude! And you're sweating like a pig! Are you getting sick?"

Irony, though, Heather apparently wouldn't recognise if it hit her in the face with slayer strength, Chuck concluded.

"Ah, sorry - I'm a little distracted. Work, you know," Mark lied rather unconvincingly.

"He's always working!" Heather said. "We came up here from San Diego to relax, and he's still thinking about work!"

Mark's eyes were still focused more on the Russians than on his wife, Chuck noticed. "Ah… please excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom," the man said suddenly, getting up and all but fleeing from the table - which would have been an understandable reaction to the scorn heaped upon his head by Heather, if not for the two Russians following him.

Chuck would have followed them, but Casey was already moving.

California, Burbank, The Castle, December 3rd, 2007

"...and after I took out the two goons threatening Ratner, he spilled. They've been threatening to hurt his wife to force him to turn traitor, and they've increased the pressure lately to get the information about the Raptor II project," Casey said with a snarl. Apparently, he thought that Mark should have sacrificed Heather instead. Well, after an evening spent in the woman's company, Chuck couldn't entirely condemn the idea.

Judging by her scoffing, Sarah shared Casey's views. Perfectly understandable, if a little disturbing anyway.

"Good work, Agent Casey," the general said. "In light of this information, we'll wait until the Russians' superiors contact Ratner again, then arrange a meeting and use the opportunity to feed them fake information."

Ah. A classic ploy, or so Chuck understood. "So, mission accomplished?" He smiled.

The general frowned. "Not exactly. There's the risk that whoever is behind this will escalate and kidnap Mrs Ratner. We're arranging a protection detail, but for the duration of their stay in Los Angeles, you'll have to guard them."

"Understood, General," Casey snapped as Chuck glanced at Sarah. Her expression was composed, but he knew she would loathe this. He wasn't exactly a fan of it, either.

But not even Heather deserved to get kidnapped by the Russian mob.

California, Los Angeles, Hollywood, December 4th, 2007

"I thought those stakeouts would be more fun," Chuck commented, lowering his binoculars for a moment and taking a sip from his Mountain Dew bottle. The Ratners were staying in this evening, or so it seemed - Mark was playing the 'I'm not feeling well, maybe I'm coming down with something' card, as Casey had instructed him.

"We're not on a stakeout," Sarah corrected him. "We're bodyguarding."

"And using the Ratners as bait," Chuck said, "like a staked-out goat to attract the tiger. Or the bears, in this case." They weren't in a car, either, but in a hotel room facing the Ratner's hotel.

She snorted at that but didn't say anything in response.

He suppressed a sigh. Sarah didn't mind using Heather as bait. Mark, perhaps, but not her nemesis from school. And she didn't resent protecting the woman, either. So that left… "It's a little funny that the only one who doesn't know about the spy business is Heather."

"Mark doesn't know that we're spies, either," Sarah said.

"Right. But Heather is completely ignorant of the danger. Even though she's in the middle of it."

"She always wanted to be the centre of attention; she probably would be happy if she knew," Sarah not-quite-spat.

Chuck laughed at that, but Sarah apparently didn't think it was funny - she was frowning. "I'm just trying to see the humour in this situation," he said.

"There's nothing funny about this."

He bit his lower lip, pondering what to say. "Well, at least Heather has exhausted her Jenny Burton stories before our second dinner with them." Which was scheduled for tomorrow evening.

Sarah scoffed at that but, once again, didn't comment verbally.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked after another moment of silence. "This doesn't seem like you, to be so… stuck on this." On her.

"It's a part of my past that I loathe," she said.

"Being a teenager?" he joked before he could stop himself.

Her frown turned into a glare. A cold glare. "No. Losing my father."

Oh. His first impulse was to tell her that, at least, her father was still alive. Unlike his. He managed to avoid that by pressing his lips together. "Sorry," he said instead.

Sarah sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I should be sorry. You lost your parents to…"

"To Sunnydale," he cut in.

"To Sunnydale," she went on, "while I lost my father to his own stupidity and greed."

Going out at night in Sunnydale was very stupid as well, but Chuck wouldn't mention that. His parents hadn't known the truth. Not really.

Sarah wanted to hit something. It wasn't fair. Chuck had lost his parents, she had been saddled with a crook as a father who had ended up in prison when she needed him. Both of them had to rebuild their lives through no fault of their own, and Heather the cheerleading bitch had the time of her life in high school, then turned and married the class geek who was going to become rich. The same guy who had been the target of her snide remarks, and her friends', for three years not only forgave her but married her. And was willing to commit treason to keep her safe. And in exchange, she treated him like dirt.

Consequences apparently were a thing that happened to other people, not to Heather.

She took a few deep breaths. She was a trained spy. She knew better. She wouldn't lose her temper. Not over Heather. She hadn't lost her temper last night despite the woman's constant needling and attempts to put her down, and she wouldn't lose it now.

There was no reason to be jealous either. Heather might have married rich, but Sarah - not Jenny any more, never Jenny to begin with - had a career. And a wonderful if sometimes a little clueless boyfriend. Granted, her career was doomed due to circumstances outside her control, but she might be able to weather that.

Just as she would weather Heather. She sighed. "I'm being unreasonable, I know. We're not in high school any more." They weren't the people they had been as teenagers any more. Well, with the possible exception of Heather. The bitch hadn't changed as far as Sarah could tell.

"And with the possible exception of people like Heather, we're all glad about that," Chuck replied. "That we're not in high school any more, I mean. Not about you being unreasonable. Which, incidentally, I don't think you are."

She smiled at him. He was trying. And it was working.

California, Burbank, Buy More, December 5th, 2007

"Where is Casey? Why isn't he working already?"

"Good morning, Lester. I'm doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?" Chuck forced himself to smile at the Nerd Herder. He had been up too long, observing the Ratners, and lack of sleep made everyone cranky. Well, some it made loopy, but Chuck wasn't among them.

"Yes, yes, good morning, howdy and whatever." Lester shook his head. "Focus, Chuck! Where's Casey?"

"He's sick," Chuck lied. Casey was observing the Ratners today. "Why do you care? Last I heard - from you, actually - you two had some 'differences'." Which was a polite way to say that Casey didn't tolerate the antics of Jeff and Lester, and was quite willing to demonstrate that physically.

"Yes, we had some differences of opinions. But," Lester spoke up, "of all the employees of this fine store, Casey is by far the most dangerous. And one of the most primitives as well. But it is this combination of thuggish violence and animal cunning that makes him the perfect security for the store. Have you seen what he does to shoplifters?"

"You mean you want him to guard you and Jeff," Chuck corrected him.

"We're valuable Buy More employees. Who would be able to satisfy all the most discerning - and rich - Mac users without us?"

"I could do it myself," Chuck replied at once, "or I could ask Morgan to help."

Lester gaped at him, blinked, then said: "But you wouldn't be able to do your work, then!"

"I think I'll manage," Chuck said. "It's not as if Jeff's been around lately, is it?"

"He has to hide from the demon hunters!"

"We've got Caridad here. He could be working here and be perfectly safe," Chuck pointed out.

"She's the Slayer! She's one bad day from flipping out and killing everyone!" Lester retorted.

"You've been listening to Jeff and his very biased view of Slayers," Chuck replied. "Caridad is a perfectly nice girl, and there's no reason to…"

The sound of toppling aisles interrupted him. Whirling around, he saw Caridad, a snarl on her face, charging at a man she had just thrown through the Tupperware display.

Chuck shook his head. He really should have known better.