Chapter 37: The Fallout Part 6

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, February 22nd, 2008

"That could've gone better," Chuck said, sighing, once they were - finally- back in their apartment and alone.

"It wasn't our fault," Sarah told him, sitting down - well, more like throwing herself onto - the couch. "Shaw's a jerk."

Chuck nodded. He would've used a stronger word. Ellie had, actually, after the bodyguards had left. "I wonder why the general sent him, and not someone a little more…"

"Reasonable? Diplomatic? Friendly?" Sarah prompted.

"All of the above?" Chuck sat down next to her, sighing with relief as he put his foot on the low table.

She snorted at that. "He seems a fanatical enemy of Fulcrum. That's probably why he was sent - the Agency wanted someone they could trust wasn't a traitor."

"Ah." That made sense. But… "Speaking of traitors," he said, "If Fulcrum could implant hypnotic triggers, as they told me, can we trust anyone?" Any spy could be a sleeper agent, after all.

"From what we know, it doesn't look like they can rush such a procedure," Sarah replied. "They would have been very careful to kidnap those who wouldn't be missed for at least a day. They wouldn't have wanted to risk being exposed. If the Agency became aware of their capabilities, a lot of their plans would be affected. Are affected, now," she added, "Thanks to you."

"Thanks to my mistake, you mean," he corrected her.

"You were the one to gather this information and to escape from their clutches. We merely helped you."

"I was stuck in their torture chamber with a broken leg," he said. "That wasn't much of an escape."

"You managed to disable half a dozen spies and sent the rest fleeing," she retorted. "Chuck - you did well. Not many spies would have managed to do as well as you did."

"Not many spies would have fallen for the old 'man suffers a heart attack' trick," he told her.

"Because many spies wouldn't have cared about civilians. Chuck, that's not a good thing. Once you stop caring about others, about civilians, what do you care about at all?"

"Our country?" He tilted his head slightly.

She snorted. "I don't think many will care about the country, but not about the people. There's a reason Fulcrum could recruit so many spies - and I don't think it's their mindwiping machine."

"Oh." He hadn't thought about that.

"But that still means that there could be a dozen or more traitors waiting to be triggered," Sarah went on. "Which makes capturing Fulcrum agents so we can interrogate them and find out which agents they turned or brainwashed a crucial task."

And a very dangerous one. "So… the fate of the CIA is our hands?"

"I wouldn't put it like that," Sarah said, chuckling once, "but… close?"

"Great." He sighed and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "And they expect cyborgs. Or bionic women."

"That wasn't your fault, either."

"That doesn't change it, though. Our best ace in the hole - Slayers looking like harmless women - has been neutralised."

"There's also magic," she pointed out. "We found you with a spell."

"Yeah… But what if Fulcrum finds out about magic? There are lots of practitioners who sell their services for money. They might not even realise who they are working for. Until they are kidnapped and brainwashed. Oh my gosh! That might even qualify as an apocalypse. Well, not yet. But if demons get their hooks into Fulcrum…" He winced at his own thought. "We really need to stop Fulcrum. Before it's too late and we have to fight cyborg-demon-hybrid spies." He blinked. "That sounds like a really awful movie. Worse than 'Surf Nazis Must Die'."

"'Surf Nazis Must Die'?"

"It's a real movie," Chuck told her. "We can rent the DVD if you want."

"No, thanks," she replied in a really dry voice.

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Sorry."

"Chuck…"

He grinned at her, with more humour than he felt. "Alright, alright. No more sorries." She smiled back at him. "So…" his phone beeping - he had a message - interrupted him. He checked. "Oh. Dad hasn't had any success tracking the money that paid for the Fulcrum base, but he's still working on it."

"Good."

It wasn't good. Good would have been the news that Dad had found Fulcrum's backers. But it wasn't bad, either.

And in their current situation, that was probably as good as it got.

Chuck sighed again and rubbed the skin right where the cast started. It didn't help much with the itching further down the shin.

California, Burbank, Buy More, February 23rd, 2008

"Saturday morning should be spent in bed, sleeping in. Not working." Morgan sighed rather dramatically as he leaned against the Nerd Herd desk.

"Yes, Morgan. And the world should be at peace," Chuck said. "And my leg shouldn't be broken. We don't always get what we want."

"I know," Morgan replied with a frown. "I'm just trying to act normally so our enemies won't be scared off."

"Ah." Chuck shifted his broken leg around a little so it was resting comfortably on the chair next to him. "But they know that we know, so you acting normally will probably make them expect a trap."

"Oh. I didn't think about that. But would they really suspect me?" Morgan asked. "I'm not exactly… threatening. And I didn't kick the butt of half a dozen spies."

"But they think you're a 'cyborg handler'," Chuck pointed out. "And, uh, since they think I'm augmented, they might assume you're augmented as well - they didn't mistake me for a Watcher, after all."

"Oh. So, I've got to worry about some spy with an anti-material rifle sniping me?" Morgan asked. Chuck saw he was looking around.

"I don't think they have wallhacks in real life," he told Morgan. "We should be safe here."

"But outside? Or at home?" Morgan shook his head. "Perhaps we should start using the tunnels to enter and leave. Or we could start living in here!"

Living in the Buy More? "Morgan! You don't really want to live here, do you?"

"Hey! I've spent the night here a few times," his friend said, frowning at him. "When Mum had Big Mike over. It's not so bad. Like camping indoors."

"Camping indoors… that might have saved a lot of scouts in Sunnydale..." Chuck shook his head. He had to worry about the present and future, not the past. "Did you run this past Bane?"

"Kirsten thought that forting up was a good idea," Morgan replied.

"In the Buy More?" Chuck took a mental note of the correction. As he had thought, this was quite serious for Morgan.

"Not… exactly. It was more theoretical. Brainstorming. Only without the brainstorming part. We didn't go into details." Morgan shrugged. "Just… we agreed that not exposing ourselves would be safer."

And that translated into living in the Buy More? "Wouldn't it be safer to stop coming to the Buy More in that case?"

His friend blinked. "You mean quitting."

"You told me that once you're full Watcher, you'll quit," Chuck reminded him.

"I'm not a full Watcher yet."

"When's your next test?"

"Haven't applied yet."

"Ah." Chuck didn't know what to say to that. Asking if Morgan planned to apply seemed… well, there was a reason they never discussed math when they were in high school. Not even when playing Dungeons & Dragons, where math was really helpful. You didn't remind your best friend of things he didn't want to think of. "Anyway, we're playing bait, so a certain risk is inevitable."

"But not the risk of getting your brains blown away with a .50 BMG round from a mile away," Morgan retorted.

"I don't think there's a sniper nest that far away," Chuck said. Casey was a sniper; he would've mentioned it, wouldn't he? They could ask him - he had returned to 'work' now that Shaw had arrived. "Hey! Casey! Could you come over for a second? Got a question!" Chuck yelled.

The NSA agent marched over to them. "What got your panties bunched up?" he growled.

"Uh…" Chuck blinked at the mental image that comment conjured. "We wanted to know if there's a sniper's nest a mile away from which you can kill someone in the parking lot."

"No."

"Ah." Morgan started to smile.

"There are three possible sniper's nests covering the parking lot within six hundred yards," Casey went on with a nasty grin.

"Uh… and we've got them all covered, right?" Chuck asked, trying not to wince.

"Rigged to blow?" Morgan asked.

"We've got surveillance on them," Casey admitted. "But any surveillance can be fooled."

"Great," Chuck said with a frown.

"Risk of the trade, Bartowski," Casey told him. "Sometimes, you need to sacrifice someone to detect an ambush. Everyone's expendable." He nodded curtly at both, then walked off.

It would have been more impressive if the man weren't accosted by an old lady asking for help in selecting the right toy for her poodle before he had left the electronics section. But Chuck's mirth was short-lived.

"Do you think someone has already told him that we're not in the army?" Morgan asked. "He'll have a field day with rule one of the Council."

Which was 'Don't die'. Chuck nodded. Even though he knew that sometimes, it couldn't be helped. Still… He looked around the store, once more trying to spot the disguised spy he expected. Once again without success.

They really needed a better plan than waiting for Fulcrum to make a move.

California, Burbank, The Castle, February 23rd, 2008

"We need a better plan than waiting for Fulcrum to make a move," Shaw announced in the evening, in what seemed to be a sort of ad hoc meeting.

"Really," Casey grumbled, arms crossed, from his favourite spot at the wall.

"Well, sitting around hoping that Fulcrum will get sloppy isn't an optimal plan," Chuck said. The agent glared at him, and he flinched a little. It was hard to read the man.

"Of course going on the offensive would be better," Bane said, "but we are limited - we have no target. And we can't really fool them into thinking we know another base of theirs."

Shaw glared at her for a moment, Chuck noticed. "No. But we can present them with a target they have to investigate," he said.

"I thought that that was me," Chuck told him. He almost patted the cast on his leg for emphasis. "You know, weak and lamed." Packs went after those animals, after all.

"If you were, they would have made their move by now," the other agent retorted.

"Or they want to avoid rushing into another mistake," Sarah pointed out. "Chuck did pull a number on them." Chuck smiled at the praise.

"At least they think so," Casey added, which took the wind out of Chuck's sails. A little, at least - he had been lucky. And he had broken his leg in the process.

"That might be," Shaw said, in a tone that made it clear that he didn't think so, "but, so far, their spies have either avoided your notice or are staying away from this area."

"So far." Otherwise, Caridad would have picked up The Chameleon's scent. No one knew about that Slayer power. "They won't stay away forever," he added, hoping he was right.

"They only need to stay away long enough," Shaw countered.

"Long enough for what?" Sarah asked.

"To take over the Agency."

Chuck opened his mouth to point out that that was unlikely before he remembered that they had a machine that could implant hypnotic triggers. None of the others showed much of a reaction.

Shaw didn't seem to be surprised by that. "You know how powerful they are. They have thoroughly penetrated the CIA. Unless they are stopped soon, they'll win."

"You're stating the obvious," Casey said. "What's your plan?"

"We fake a base in the area."

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, February 23rd, 2008

"Do you think Shaw's plan will work?"

Sarah finished pouring the drinks before she turned to answer Chuck. He was on the couch, broken leg propped up on the low table. On the TV, the news was running, but he wasn't paying attention, she could tell. "We don't have anything else to do but waiting," she said.

"So you don't think it'll work." He sighed.

"I didn't say that," she told him as she sat down and handed him his drink. "At the very least, it'll keep Shaw busy."

"Oh." He blinked. "So he won't do something else without our knowledge."

"He might do that anyway," she said, taking a sip from her drink. "He's a fanatic."

"And he thinks he knows best. Oh, this is really good," he added after taking a sip from his.

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "I was undercover as a bartender, once."

"Really?"

"Yes. Not for long, though." That had been a rather messy mission.

"Long enough to make good drinks, though." He took another sip. "Do you think it'll be enough to keep Shaw from looking into Slayers?"

"It's possible," she admitted. "Unless his fixation on Fulcrum is an act. But Flores and Morris?" Sarah shook her head. "They might not dig, but they'll keep their eyes open."

"Oh." He took a swallow this time. "And we haven't even managed to find out if we can trust Bane."

"Mh." She refrained from telling him that spies could rarely trust anyone. He knew that already. Or should.

"Do you really think that Fulcrum could take over the CIA?"

"I don't think it's impossible," she said. The traitors had a lot of helpers in the Agency. Some of them might not even know it. "But the government is aware of the threat. They will have taken countermeasures as well." And the government knew about magic. That would be another advantage. Fulcrum, by all accounts, didn't.

"So, we're good then? Even if we don't manage to destroy Fulcrum quickly?"

He looked so relieved, Sarah didn't have the heart to tell him that the government - at least the part people dealing with the CIA - might come to an agreement with Fulcrum. Or elements of the organisation. It was a slim chance, but the government had worked with worse people in the name of 'national interests'.

Hell, it employed worse people. Sometimes, Sarah had been the one to deal with them when they became more trouble than they were worth.

California, Burbank, February 24th, 2008

"Isn't this a little close to the base?" Chuck asked, looking around. The office building they were entering wasn't across the street of the Buy More, but it wasn't more than a block away, which wasn't much better, in his opinion.

"It has to be close to your cover job so it looks like a reaction to your kidnapping," Shaw retorted. "We've rented the basement and the first floor."

"Uh, yeah… that's the other thing," Chuck said. "What about the other two floors?"

"They shouldn't be an issue; I've run background checks on the tenants; accounting and law firms, small-time," the agent replied. "We can easily keep them out of the base."

"That wasn't my concern," Chuck said. Was the man dense or playing games? "But it means we'll have civilians around who will be endangered, should Fulcrum attack the base."

For a moment, Shaw actually didn't seem to understand Chuck's concern - the agent was frowning at him. Then he shook his head. "It also means that Fulcrum will have to consider whether killing civilians, with all the attention that causes, is worth blowing the entire base up."

Chuck gasped. That was…

"That's remarkably cold-blooded, Agent Shaw," Sarah said, in a matching tone.

Shaw frowned at her. "It's unlikely that Fulcrum will opt for such measures. They want to capture you, according to our intel. And even if they did, they would strike outside business hours, when most of the other tenants have left already."

"'Most'?" Chuck stared at him.

"As I said, based on our intel, I don't think Fulcrum will choose to eliminate us," Shaw retorted as they entered the lobby. "So, this is mostly hypothetical."

Shaw had stressed that 'based on our intel' twice, Chuck realised. Did the agent suspect that they hadn't told them everything? No, he knew that they hadn't since he knew the Council had been helping.

"You do understand that we're not at liberty to discuss classified information concerning our allies," Sarah told Shaw.

"Without knowing what exactly happened and what Fulcrum knows about 'our allies', any analysis will have to depend partially on guesswork." Shaw stared at them.

"Get used to it, Shaw," Casey spat. "You never know everything you should know in our business." The NSA agent looked around. "That's just going to be the cover anyway. Let's go down."

Shaw didn't like the dismissal - even Chuck could see that - but the spy nodded. "This way."

The basement was… bare. Just a bunch of rooms, most of them empty but for the one holding central heating and air conditioning. "This doesn't look like much of a base," Chuck commented.

"It's not supposed to," Shaw said. "We're just starting to build it, after all. That's what Fulcrum will think."

"Using other assets to build the base would expose them," Sarah pointed out. "And if they get compromised, The Castle is compromised."

"We won't be using those assets, but potentially compromised ones to install a base here," Shaw retorted. "That should speed up Fulcrum's discovery of this location without raising suspicion."

Casey snorted. "They'll suspect a trap after the loss of their base."

"I'm working with the information I have."

"Stop fishing for classified intel," Casey retorted. "You don't have the clearance for it."

Shaw gritted his teeth, Chuck noticed. "Withholding vital information isn't a wise policy when faced by Fulcrum," the man spat.

"Fulcrum isn't the only threat we have to worry about," Sarah said.

"It's just the only threat you have to worry about," Casey added with a sneer. "So, who's going to be the bait in the base, anyway? Bartowski?"

"He is a person of interest for Fulcrum, as they have proven," Shaw replied.

Casey scoffed. "That may have changed after he kicked their ass."

Chuck smiled - if even the gruff NSA agent thought he had done decently…

"And he broke his leg doing it, so now he's vulnerable."

And with one remark from Shaw, Chuck's good mood was gone. On the other hand, it was better if he was the one Fulcrum wanted than Ellie and Devon. He nodded. "Get some computers installed, and I can work here analysing data."

"That would be a good cover," Shaw agreed.

"We'll need real defences," Sarah said. "Capable of stopping an attack for long enough to spring our trap."

"We'll be ready nearby," Shaw said.

"'We'?" Casey shook his head. "You're needed to protect Bartowski's sister and her fiancé. We'll handle this."

"You need me," Shaw said with a glare, "and my team can handle their protection. Besides, I expect Fulcrum to act late in the evening or at night. The marks will be already at home at that time."

"Unless they got the night shift," Chuck pointed out. It didn't happen too often, what with them being specialised surgeons, but they still did their part in the ER, as Devon called it.

Shaw didn't acknowledge the point. Or Chuck. The spy kept glaring at Casey. But he was correct in that they could use all the help they could get, in Chuck's opinion. Even if it was a fanatical spy who didn't have the whole picture. Alienating Shaw further wouldn't be a good idea.

"Uh…" Chuck cleared his throat. "The more, the merrier, right?"

He forced himself to smile despite all the glares levelled against him.

California, Burbank, Decoy Base, February 26th, 2008

Watching a CIA base being constructed was interesting, Chuck found. It might just be a decoy base, but one wouldn't be able to tell from seeing the construction crew at work. Well, that was the idea, after all.

The half a dozen people - were they spies with special training in construction, or were they construction workers vetted by the CIA? - had already installed the computers and other electronics and were now working on the passive and active defences. Which, if translated from spy-speak, meant the doors and mines.

Chuck took note of the laters' locations. And tried to work out the probable kill area. Just in case. But, mostly, he just walked around and made sure that he was seen - he was the bait, after all. He had to make Fulcrum come after him, instead of going after Ellie and Devon. Or Morgan. Or anyone else. Well, perhaps Shaw was an exception - Chuck was certain that the man would welcome an attack by Fulcrum.

"Speak of the devil…" Chuck mumbled as he spotted the spy observing the TV screens in the mock 'command room' - if you could call a fully functional command room that. He nodded at the man. "Good evening, Agent Shaw."

"Bartowski." Shaw's nod was barely visible.

But if Chuck would let such an attitude scare him off, he wouldn't be friends with Casey. Or valued co-workers, at least - he wasn't entirely sure how Casey saw him. "Everything going according to plan?"

"As far as I can tell." Shaw hadn't looked up for his answer, still watching the flickering screens.

"Good. Good," Chuck replied. He glanced at the TV screens. "Looks like there's a faulty camera."

"The cameras were checked."

"I'm sure they were. But these are SpyCraft Mark Vs, and they have a tendency to get loose wires when they are subjected to heavy vibrations. Like from drilling holes to mount them on a wall," Chuck explained.

"Those are CIA cameras, not some… Walmart special." Shaw was now looking at him. But since the spy was glaring, it wasn't really a sign of progress.

Chuck kept smiling. "Well… they've got the same guts. The CIA version just has better encryption and insulation, but the power unit is the same model. And that's where the fault usually appears."

"Really."

"Yes, really," Chuck told him, nodding. "I can show you."

"Please do."

The other spy didn't look like he believed him. Well, Chuck might not be a veteran spy, but he knew his electronics. "Alright," he said, grabbing his crutches, "let's get the camera."

Fortunately, Chuck had recognised the hallway that particular camera covered - having to ask would have been embarrassing. And it didn't take Shaw long to get the camera down, either - the construction crew hadn't yet installed the bulletproof glass shield in front of it. Chuck would've been a little quicker, even - if he hadn't broken his leg.

Opening it was a child's play. "See?" Chuck pointed at the power unit. "That cable there is loose, and that's why it flickers whenever someone walks past. Or when a particularly heavy truck drives past. It could actually serve as a sort of seismic sensor," he joked.

"I'll have the crew replace it," Shaw said.

"What? No, no." Chuck shook his head. "That's unnecessary. I'll fix it."

Shaw didn't say anything, so Chuck took that as agreement and pulled out his toolset. Well, his travelling toolset. "It just needs a little glue there to fix it in place… There!" He smiled as he closed the camera up. "Now all you need is let it dry for a few minutes, and then it'll work perfectly fine. Unless you mount it outside in Montana in winter or so - the glue wouldn't like the cold. But then, the rest of the electronics wouldn't like it either."

Shaw looked surprised. "I didn't know you were an electronics specialist."

"Well, I was at Stanford," Chuck told him. "Until, you know, I was framed as a cheater by a rogue CIA agent."

"Ah." Shaw nodded as if Chuck had told him something profound.

Perhaps he had told Shaw more than he had wanted? Well, if they were telling each other personal things… "Say… your issues with Fulcrum seem, well, personal. It doesn't seem to be just a mission for you." And Shaw didn't seem to be the kind of patriot like Casey who would take treason personal.

Shaw's expression grew cold, and Chuck almost took a step back. "Sorry if that's too personal, I'm just, you know… concerned?"

The agent took a deep breath before glancing around. "They killed my partner. She had found some irregularities in a CIA station, and started looking into it, but they killed her before she could uncover them."

"Ah." Chuck nodded. Shaw didn't seem to be the kind of man who'd take losing a team member so personal, either - he certainly seemed willing to sacrifice others to get at Fulcrum. But he had said 'she'... Chuck blinked. "That wasn't in your file."

"You've read my file?" Shaw narrowed his eyes at him, then scoffed. "Of course you did."

"Standard procedure," Chuck told him. Well, it was - for Sarah and Casey.

"We kept it private. I wouldn't have been able to investigate without them finding out, otherwise. But without anyone knowing about us, they didn't suspect me, not until it was too late."

"Ah." Things started to make sense now. But even if Shaw just wanted to avenge his dead love that didn't change that he seemed willing to sacrifice others to achieve his goals.

On the contrary.

Chuck still forced himself to smile and nod.

California, Burbank, Decoy Base, March 3rd, 2008

"Do you think Fulcrum saw through our plan?"

Sarah looked up from her notebook at Chuck's question. "Hm?" He did sound concerned so this wasn't idle chit-chat to pass the time.

"I mean, this decoy base has been operational for days now, and no attack happened." Chuck looked around at the big TV screens lining the wall of the command room. "We didn't see any sign of spies scouting the area, either."

"Just because we didn't see them doesn't mean there were no spies," she told him.

"Don't call it the 'decoy base'!" Shaw cut in. "If anyone overhears you, it'll give the game away."

"But it's just us," Chuck retorted. "If anyone managed to plant bugs in the base here, they have seen through your plan already."

"That's not the point," Shaw shot back. "If you start endangering security like that, you'll do it elsewhere as well. Bad habits kill spies - or their teams. That's a basic lesson."

"I'm not talking about spy stuff in public," Chuck defended himself. "Or to civilians. Well, not to civilians who aren't already in the know. And even to them, I don't mention actual plans like this. I was just wondering if the plan's working."

"You shouldn't be talking to civilians at all. Not about these matters," Shaw told him. "And be patient. Not everyone rushes into missions."

Sarah saw Chuck press his lips together at the criticism and spoke up: "Fulcrum has had enough time to act, though. We're just worried that we're missing something while we're sitting here waiting for them to walk into our trap."

"Uh, yes, exactly," Chuck agreed, not entirely convincingly.

"Your sister and her fiancé are fine," Shaw spat. "Morris and Flores are doing a good job."

Sarah refrained from pointing out that, officially, the two other spies were doing what should have been Shaw's main mission. She wasn't even sure if he had ever tailed Ellie and Devon - the spy had been all but living in the decoy base for days now. But mentioning that would only set him off in an even worse way - tempers were already fraying.

One knew that things weren't going well if Sarah had to play peacemaker for Chuck.

She almost snorted at the thought, then focused on the file she was reading again. On her laptop, of course - she didn't trust the electronics in the base. Not after they had been installed by potential traitors. Chuck had gone over them, as much as he could in any case, but a little precaution never hurt anyone. Well, almost never.

Though she could see with a discreet glance that things hadn't been settled. Shaw was repeatedly flicking the cap of a USB stick off an on, and Chuck was glowering at whatever he was doing on his computer. "Everyone's doing their best," she said, glancing at Shaw.

"What?" He looked up, frowning at her. No, glaring at her for a moment, she noticed.

"Everyone's doing their best," she repeated herself. "It's just the waiting that gets to you."

He stared at her for a moment. "Yes."

All the warmth of a blizzard. She refrained from frowning in return.

"We'll get them, don't worry," Chuck added with a smile.

Shaw scoffed at that. "I don't need a pep talk."

No, he wouldn't need a pep talk. People out to avenge their love rarely did. Not that Sarah would mention that Chuck had told her about that - even though Shaw would assume so. "But you need to relax a little. We need to work together for this. Bickering won't help the mission."

"I don't," he replied. She raised her eyebrows in return, and he frowned some more. "You can count on me doing my duty."

She didn't doubt that. "That's not the problem," she told him. "Not at all. We're a team, though, and you sometimes leave the impression that you'd sacrifice every one of us to get to Fulcrum."

"Fulcrum's a threat to national security," he retorted.

He hadn't denied her accusation. Sarah gritted her teeth for a moment. "That doesn't make us expendable," she told him, as calmly as she could - losing her temper wouldn't help anyone but Fulcrum.

"Spies are expendable," he said.

"No one is expendable," Chuck blurted out.

Shaw glared at him. Sneered, even. "Would you pick your team members over our country?"

Sarah had never posed that question to Chuck, but she thought he would, if forced to choose. She had done so herself, in a way. And would again.

Chuck shook his head. "If the only way to save the country were to sacrifice yourself, I have no doubt that any of us would choose so. But that's not the case."

"The Agency might not agree, Shaw pointed out - still sneering.

She knew that, of course. From experience. Experience she hoped Chuck wouldn't have to gain himself.

"In that case, they need to ask for such a sacrifice," Chuck replied. "You don't order people to their death. You just don't. You sacrifice yourself first."

Shaw didn't seem to believe that Chuck was serious - or honest. "And you think people would agree? Volunteer?" He scoffed again. "We're spies."

Chuck looked surprised. "Some would - if the mission is important enough." Like saving the city. Or the world. "But if you think someone will sacrifice you, how can you trust them to work with you?" He shook his head. "Why should anyone be loyal to you if you aren't loyal to them?"

Sarah nodded. The Director had taught her that, though she had never found out if he had stuck to that rule himself. She hadn't wanted to find out, either.

Shaw looked taken aback. "You sound as if you would choose your friends over the mission!"

"If the Agency ordered me to sacrifice them, I would," Chuck told him, jaw set. "Some things are more important than a mission."

Seconds passed without Shaw saying anything. He just stared at Chuck silently until he finally nodded. "I see."

He went back to reading his files, flipping a cap on and off of a USB stick. Sarah looked at Chuck, wordlessly telling him to stop pushing the man. She could only hope that they had gotten through to him. If he tried to sacrifice them, it wouldn't end well. Not for him.

California, Los Angeles, Echo Park, March 3rd, 2008

Another day without an attack, Chuck thought as he stepped into their living room. He snorted - if he had known that one day, he would want to be attacked by traitorous spies… He noticed Sarah looking at him, with not quite raised eyebrows, and shook his head. "Just a stray thought about how I actually want to be attacked." He chuckled, then frowned as he had another thought. "Does that make me like Shaw?"

"No," she replied at once. "Shaw wants to destroy Fulcrum at any cost. You want to protect your friends and family."

That was true. Although Chuck wondered what he would think if Fulcrum had killed Sarah… He shook his head. That wasn't a thought he wanted to pursue. Sighing, he went into the kitchen. "Want a soda?"

"Just mineral water; it's late already."

"Good point." He put the cola back into the fridge and grabbed the water bottle and two glasses.

She had turned on the TV already, but the news wasn't showing anything new - with no attack coming, keeping up to date on the news had been the most productive thing they had had to do at the decoy base.

He sighed again. "You know, I can't decide if I should pity Shaw or scorn him. They killed the woman he loved, but..." He shrugged and took a swallow from his glass, looking at the wall next to the TV screen.

"He's willing to get others killed just to get his revenge," Sarah replied.

"Yes. It's a pity that he didn't grow up in Sunnydale." She was puzzled; he could tell. "He would have learned that not losing more people, no matter who they are, is more important than killing the bad guys."

"Ah." Sarah nodded, putting down her glass.

"Of course, that usually ends up being the same when demons are involved," Chuck added. "Still, Shaw's a tragic case."

"A tragic case who hasn't done much to protect Ellie and Devon," she pointed out.

"He's got Morris and Flores guarding them." Although if they weren't enough… Chuck pressed his lips together.

"They seem competent enough," Sarah said.

Which sounded a little too much like 'let's hope they are enough' for Chuck's peace of mind.

He really wished Fulcrum would attack.

Another stray thought hit him as he leaned back and wrapped his arms around Sarah's shoulders. "You know, there's nothing about Shaw's dead girlfriend in the files. Wouldn't the CIA know about that?"

"Not if they kept it secret." her smile turned rueful, or so he thought. "They might not have wanted the CIA to know about their relationship."

"Oh. Because that would've broken regulations?"

"No. Because someone might have tried to use it to manipulate them."

"Someone like Fulcrum?" That was what they did, after all. But at the time, Shaw hadn't known that they existed.

"Or their own superiors. Or rivals." Sarah looked at the TV, but she didn't seem to be watching it. "It's something many spies would do."

"That doesn't sound like a happy working environment," he told her. "And I would know about that, working at the Buy More." He forced himself to laugh at his own joke.

"It isn't all bad," she replied. "Not all good, either, though."

Chuck nodded. He was really looking forward to joining the Council.

California, Burbank, Decoy Base, March 4th, 2008

"Anything?"

Chuck looked up upon hearing Shaw's question. The spy hadn't sounded as tense as last night. But that might change. "Nothing," he said. "Caridad's patrolling the area, but she hasn't reported anything, either."

"Ah." Shaw nodded. "I'll be in the armoury, then. Please call me if anything changes."

"Uh, sure." Chuck nodded.

"Thank you."

That was downright friendly, for Shaw. It would've been downright friendly for Casey, too, Chuck thought.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Caridad. Did you find anything?

Her reply arrived within a second. No.

Well, succinct. And you couldn't expect polite phrases in texts.

Though Chuck couldn't help wondering if the Slayer would've been more verbose if Casey had sent the query.

California, Burbank, Buy More, March 5th, 2008

"...and that is how you recover your address book, ma'am." Chuck did his best to smile at the woman. After having had to explain the same thing for ten minutes, it was a little harder than it should've been.

"Ah. Like this?" And the woman went and locked herself out of her phone again.

He closed his eyes and walked her through the same procedure again. If Caridad weren't nearby, he would have started to suspect that the customer was a Fulcrum agent using creative torture on him.

He still wasn't ruling out that possibility.

Finally, five minutes later, the woman walked away. Probably to lock herself out of her car.

Chuck sighed. At least it had taken his mind off the Fulcrum attack. Which still hadn't taken place. It was driving him crazy. Perhaps that was Fulcrum's plan: Wait until everyone had gone stir-crazy, then strike when they were all distracted and worked up. It wasn't actually reaching, he thought. If Fulcrum had the patience…

His phone vibrating in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. He pulled it out. Unknown number? Frowning, he accepted the call.

"Chuck."

His eyes widened for a moment. Dad! "Yes, you've reached Chuck Bartowski," he said.

"I've looked into Shaw," Dad told him.

Oh. Well, that was only natural, knowing what Chuck knew about Dad. Even though Shaw had actually calmed down after their talk. The spy was still practically living in the decoy base but had become friendlier. Less driven.

"Check the file on your laptop."

Cuck suppressed a frown. His Dad had gotten into his laptop? Again? He really needed to improve his own security. Again. But Dad sounded concerned. "Sure, give me a moment…" He entered his password. There was a new file. About a female CIA agent. Evelyn Miller. Deceased? Oh… "His girlfriend?"

"Yes. Did you flash?"

"No…" Should he have? Had Dad?

"Ah. Check the circumstances of her death."

Chuck did so. And gasped. Sarah had killed her! Miller had been a suspected traitor, and Sarah had killed her as her 'red test'.

"It was buried very deep - if the general hadn't recently reviewed the files on a computer with one of my backdoors installed, I wouldn't have found them," Dad explained. "I don't think Shaw knows - he didn't have the clearance."

"That's good," Chuck managed to say. If Shaw knew about… Chuck's gaze fell on the USB stick on the Nerd Herd desk. And he flashed.

Another USB stick flashed before his eyes, followed by several files. Fulcrum agents. Couriers.

He blinked, gasping again.

"He knows. They told him." He couldn't believe it.

"The CIA?" Dad asked.

"No." Chuck shook his head even though Dad couldn't see him. "Fulcrum sent him their file on her."