Chapter 8 The Fallout
A/N: Thank you once again for the reviews and PMs. I haven't gotten to respond recently as I've been tweaking the storyline so that I can start to write the epilogue (which hopefully will set the foundation for the second arc of this tale). I have received several reviews/PMs about cheesesteaks-one of which mentioned the infamous duo of steak shops Pats and Geno's, which are literally across the street from each other. Before getting married, I had taken my then girlfriend up to the greater Philadelphia area and met up with a childhood friend. I had told him that she had never had a proper Philly cheesesteak, so my friend set up a tour of seven steak shops back to back to back, etc (Pat's, Geno's, Jim's, Ishkabibbles, Honest John's, Delassandro's and Tony Luke's). After the first couple, we started splitting steaks. Needless to say, she got his stamp of approval.
As before, any italics indicate the thoughts of the most recent character referenced. I hope you enjoy this next installment.
Sarah and Chuck entered the Bartowski campaign headquarters laughing, both unable to think of a time they had had more fun than their adventure in Philadelphia. In the living room of the headquarters though, Chuck abruptly stopped laughing when he saw his best friend/business partner/campaign manager. Morgan's face showed a combination of pain and betrayal. Chuck was certain that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.
"Charles Irving Bartowski," Morgan spoke in his most serious and aggrieved voice (which actually caused Chuck to relax somewhat as he immediately realized that the 'betrayal' would have been to Morgan alone), "how could you do this? This is so wrong. Just wrong, I tell you." Then with a flair for the dramatic that would have fit in on one of the telenovelas that Morgan's mother loved to watch, he thrust an arm out, pointing to the nearby computer monitor while looking in the opposite direction. The monitor in question was showing the home page for the Washington Post.
Chuck's face was the picture of surprise as he read the headline of the top news story "'Is the Bachelor President Off the Market, and Who Is the Future First Lady?' What is this? First of all, they know I'm not the President. And I'm certainly not off the market." Chuck missed the flash of hurt that flickered across Sarah's eyes so quick that it was there and gone as soon as it had appeared- but it was spotted, and noted, by Chuck's big sister.
"Please, Chuck. Eye on the ball here. Let's focus on the big picture, or at least the picture with this story!" Morgan continued in high theatrics. "How could you betray me like this? I blame this…this…this jezebel!"
Chuck started laughing, while Sarah merely looked confused at Morgan's erratic behavior. Chuck thought about the fact that Morgan was attempting, failing fortunately, to insult the CIA's top spy who was trained in over 200 ways to kill him. Chuck laughed all the harder when he thought of how fast the lion would turn to a mouse if Morgan only knew. "Jezebel, buddy? Seriously? Did we time warp back to the 1880s and no one told me? Is Doc Brown consulting with the campaign now? Did you build a flux capacitor in your free time and not tell me?"
Sarah was now thoroughly confused. She knew that Ellie and Awesome were both doctors, knew the name of Chuck's GP back in California, and knew the names of all of the campaign staff. There was no Brown, doctor or otherwise. And what in the hell was a flux capacitor? All the more confusing was the fact that no one else in the room looked in the least confused by Chuck's questions. She had to bite back a laugh when Morgan dramatically threw both hands in the air, exclaiming, "You think this is a joking matter?" Again he pointed to the monitor with the picture of Chuck and Sarah sharing a laugh at lunch. Come to think of it, I need to get a copy of that picture. Did I really make Chuck that happy? I mean, I knew I was having a great time. If he ever learns what that grin does to me, I'm in big trouble. Oops, too late. Well, if he learns that the grin is my weakness, I'll be in even bigger trouble.
Her smile at Morgan's bizarre behavior quickly dimmed as she saw the look of horror come over Chuck's face. She quickly became worried. Just what had she done that was so wrong? The fundraiser went smoothly. The photoshoot, such as it was, went fine as well. Morgan didn't know enough of her backstory to find her that objectionable. After all, the previous night he had been pushing Chuck to accept Sarah's presence as his cover girlfriend (having to think of herself as a "cover" girlfriend made the bile rise up in the back of her throat). As far as Morgan knew, it was just a "cover" date.
"Buddy, I am so, so sorry," Chuck started before Morgan cut him off with a biting tone that shocked even Ellie.
"Well 'I am so, so sorry.' Sorry doesn't cut it buster. Chuck, you know how important it was for me to get to eat a real, true Philly cheesesteak. But no, you have to go with Vicky Vale here." Morgan snapped, waving dismissively towards Sarah. He then paused as he realized what he said- although it was clearly lost on Sarah as to just who Vicky Vale was and why Morgan was lumping her in with this Vicky person. "Ok, ok. Yes, she's Vicky Vale." Still not clearing things up. "But c'mon. Leaving me behind for your first cheesesteak? Does she even understand how monumental an event that was? Dude, that was just wrong." Morgan paused briefly while looking critically at Sarah. "Please tell me that she at least got a proper cheesesteak? None of that tourist crap Cheese Whiz? That would be so not awesome."
"Don't worry, Morgs. Vito hooked us up with some authentic cheesesteaks. No chicken, no whiz, just right."
"Aw man," Morgan let out a groan as he sank back down into an oversized plush chair, burying his head in his hands. "You had some dude named 'Vito' making your steaks?"
"I'll make it up to you Morgan, I swear."
"Make it up? Chuck we'd been talking about our first real Philly cheesesteaks since the debate site got selected. Months, man. How are you going to make up us trying out our first steaks together. This was an important milestone, and now it's gone," Morgan ended with a glare in Sarah's direction as he pouted with arms crossing his chest.
Sarah was about to comment on how it was just a lunch, something that is perfectly normal for a boyfriend and girlfriend…cover, cover boyfriend and girlfriend to do. And when in Philly, newcomers are expected to partake in cheesesteaks. So it would have looked strange if she and Chuck had eaten anything else. She was just about to point out to Morgan the fact that there were literally dozens of restaurants that specialized in just cheesesteaks in the greater Philadelphia area. But before she could open her mouth to put Morgan in his place (Jezebel indeed!), she felt a touch on her forearm and saw that Ellie had made her way to Sarah's side.
Ellie had entered the room once she heard Morgan start to complain to Chuck about the "food betrayal", keeping to herself how pleased she was that Morgan had been taken down a peg or two-especially as Sarah had not only done the taking down, but didn't even know at the time that she was doing it, which meant that Morgan wouldn't be able to hold a grudge. The headquarters had been buzzing about the press coverage over Chuck's new "girlfriend" with many of the single (and some not so single) ladies grumbling about the new competition for Chuck's attention. Ellie had seen the picture in the Post and thought that they not only made a truly adorable couple, but that any competition had already ended.
Ellie was about to tweak Morgan about Chuck's first cheesesteak being with Sarah, when she spotted the bracelet on Sarah's wrist and got so distracted that she collided with a staffer standing nearby. At the slight commotion, Chuck caught Ellie's eyes, which were widened in shock at recognizing the Bartowski family heirloom adorning Sarah's wrist. He quickly realized what had spooked Ellie so much, and knew that he needed to head things off at the pass before Ellie let Sarah know just how significant the gift of the purportedly "cover jewelry" actually was.
"I'm sorry for the bearded troll," Ellie whispered just loudly enough for Sarah to hear her. She was struggling to contain her excitement over the charm bracelet, but Sarah's attention was still focused on Morgan.
"Wasn't he the bearded gnome at the debate site?" Sarah whispered back just as quietly.
"After the movie" (Like I have a clue as to which movie?) "trolls are a little more endearing, if still short and more than a bit strange. But this right here," Ellie said while pointing back and forth between Chuck and Morgan, "is their thing. I had hoped that Chuck would outgrow it in seventh grade. Then eighth grade. Then before high school graduation, before college graduation, after starting Orion Tech. Unfortunately, I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that those two revert to children when it comes to food. I don't think it will ever change. Morgan's lashing out because he's hurt that Chuck tried a major new food experience with someone other than him. He'll get over it. Oh, he'll pout and whine for a good while first, but he'll get over it eventually. It helps if we can distract him with other food."
It wound up being Sarah who found the solution. She ordered a pizza from a local hotspot that Dave at S&T in Langley during her pre-mission prep had said she "had" to try -plus she offered an offensively large tip if it could be delivered in under half an hour. When the pizza was delivered, Morgan was instantly mollified ("Marrying mild cheddar, provolone and mozzarella cheese on a pizza? Pure genius! How did I never think of this?"). Chuck then promised Morgan an entire tour of the top cheesesteak joints in Philly before they left, which resulted in Ellie promising Chuck that she would line up a visit with the top cardiothoracic surgeon (in other words Devon) afterwards in order to make sure his arteries weren't all completely clogged from that much grease. Chuck gave Sarah a knee buckling smile when the food arrived and the stormy waters were calmed.
"You, Sarah Walker," Chuck reverently stated while unconsciously reaching out to take hold of her hand, "are one incredible lady."
Sarah responded with a brilliant smile and eyes shining with happiness at Chuck's praise. She needed a moment to gather her wits, as the feeling of Chuck's hand in her was sending tingles up her arm. Just as she was about to reply, Ron Butterfield approached. "Agent Walker, may I have a word?"
While Agent Butterfield didn't look upset, his concern was clearly evident. Sarah instantly stopped thinking about the natural feel of Chuck's hand in hers, and started thinking about Javier Cruz. With a tinge of disappointment, she pulled her hand from Chuck's, instantly noting the absence of warmth. "If Morgan is happy now, wait until he tries the second pizza. It's a stuffed pizza called the Grande, with more cheese on top," she mentioned to Chuck as she gathered her belongings to go talk with the AIC.
Morgan was instantly in the doorway. Sarah was more than a little impressed with how quickly and quietly he had moved. "Grande? A stuffed pizza? Chuck, dude, we have to try this!"
"There's also a third pizza- a cheesesteak pizza. White pizza with shaved ribeye and grilled onions. It can be just like you guys sharing a cheesesteak together. I mean, where else in the country can you find an authentic Philly cheesesteak topping for a pizza?" Sarah called over her shoulder to Morgan, hoping that he would accept her peace offering. After all, if he was that important to Chuck, it was important to her to get along with the eccentric bearded man-boy.
Chuck and Morgan practically tripped over their feet as they sprinted to the two pizza boxes sitting near the door. With a laugh, Sarah shot Chuck another grin, this one a bit melancholy, and headed over to the next room where Ron Butterfield had taken a seat. She was oblivious to the look of total adoration that Chuck had sent back her way.
Sarah took a seat near Agent Butterfield as he sat at a small sofa in the small study, staring at his Service issued laptop. She waited for him to start the conversation. She wasn't sure what the issue was, and didn't want to go blundering around to find out where his concern lay. Technically, her status was somewhat in limbo between the Secret Service and the CIA. However, Agent Butterfield was in charge of the protection detail, and if he felt that she was going to be ineffective due to being compromised, she was sure he would ship her back to Langley. Plus, she already respected the veteran agent, respected the way he ran his op, and didn't want to see him disappointed in her.
She was apprehensive about the upcoming conversation. Had she been too convincing in the "cover" girlfriend role? Agent Butterfield was one of the top Secret Service agents out there. He was trained to notice everything. Had he already decided that she was compromised? Which she totally was, if she was being honest with herself. And while Sarah was highly skilled at deceiving everyone around her, she had always made it a point to be honest with herself.
"Agent Walker," Ron started, while looking grave, "I owe you an apology. When I had the idea of installing you as Mr. Bartowski's cover girlfriend, I was focused on the tactical advantage and didn't stop to consider social media."
Sarah was officially confused now. He wasn't upset that she and Chuck were too believable as a couple? What did social media have to do with this?
"The photograph of the two of you having lunch today is trending nationally, even getting some traction abroad. I expect that Director Graham will be rather upset at his top covert agent being cast in such a public light."
The realization that Butterfield wasn't going to reassign her for being compromised with the protectee was a huge relief. Almost as big was the realization that the conversation wasn't some new details about the threat from Cruz. Her third reaction, and pretty far down the reaction foodchain at that, was surprise at not having thought about the impact to her CIA career from that photograph when she and Chuck had first entered the room. Instead, she had been focused on how to patch up the spat that Morgan had with Chuck over her. Although there had also been a part of her that had been really taken with how cute she and Chuck were as a couple- looked, looked as a couple. Cover couple.
"I must say," Ron Butterfield continued with a ghost of a smile towards Sarah. "From that photo the two of you make a very believable couple." With a slight nod, he got up and walked back out of the room.
Sarah was rooted on the spot. She thought about the implication of the couple comment, as well as the implications of the picture of her and Chuck on her career as a covert agent. Between the Ryker debacle, the growing distrust of Graham, and her now public image, she thought for the second time that day that maybe it was time to reach out to Zondra.
"That Washington Post story about your new mystery girlfriend from the fundraiser breakfast and your cheesesteak lunch, dude" Morgan said as they sprawled on the couch in the living room after inhaling a ridiculous amount of pizza "is trending on Twitter already." The bribery with food had already once again made Morgan a huge fan of Sarah.
"Doesn't anyone but me realize that she is way out of my league?" Chuck asked with an arm thrown across his eyes.
"Who's out of whose league Chuck?" Sarah asked with a grin, knowing perfectly well what he had been talking about. She hadn't been using spycraft to silently slip into the room, but Chuck and Morgan were sluggish from overeating, and focused on their own conversation. Neither had heard her enter the room, so she figured she would surprise Chuck-only she had been surprised at his self-depricating statement. For a smart guy, you've got that one completely backwards.
"Gah! How do you sneak up like that? I never heard you coming!"
"Spy remember?" Sarah whispered in his ear, causing Chuck to shiver and his brain to reboot. Morgan was oblivious to the exchange.
"Tell me when some real news outlet has the story, not some liberal, hippie loving propaganda rag," Casey said from Chuck's other side.
"Gah!" Chuck yelled out again as he jumped slightly. "Not you too. Seriously, how does someone as big as you move that quietly?"
Casey merely grunted in reply. It didn't take a genius to figure out the contempt Casey felt towards anyone who wasn't combat ready at all times. Sarah felt her protectiveness towards Chuck skyrocket, even though Casey wasn't posing a threat to Chuck. It didn't mean that she appreciated anyone putting Chuck down. Without realizing it, Sarah began to gauge the best way to win a fight against Casey if the need should arise.
"What would you suggest we read?" Chuck asked turning to face the surly NSA agent.
"The Federalist is geared towards good, honest, Reagan-Republicans. Everyone else is just un-American," Casey concluded with a sneer.
"First of all Major Casey, you do realize that I'm campaigning for the nomination for the Democratic Party? And second, wouldn't a one party system be inherently un-American? Kind of like Soviet Russia or China?"
Casey stood still staring at Chuck, while a growling noise seemed to emanate from his chest.
"Uh, Chuck, maybe it's a good idea not to antagonize a heavily armed NSA agent. I'm familiar with some of his work, and he's quite good at killing," Sarah recommended quietly.
"What? He's going to make it look like I 'accidentally' slipped and fell on a kitchen knife 26 times?" Chuck laughed at his own joke.
Sarah, however, just tilted her head to one side and widened her eyes. "You're totally not joking, are you?" Chuck asked, sounding more nervous than he was a moment earlier.
"I've heard of crazier explanations that passed muster. Besides, even if he doesn't get away with it, that's not exactly going to bring you back from the dead, now is it?"
"Point," Chuck acknowledged with a head nod. "Let the wookie win. Got it." Once again, Sarah was completely lost to the pop culture reference.
"C'mon Walker," Casey grumbled out. "We've got a briefing with Ron in five. We're supposed to play nice, share our intel." Without pausing to see if she was following, Casey stormed out of the room.
When Sarah headed back to her hotel room in order to draft up her report on the breakfast fundraiser and the photoshoot (and the cheesesteak lunch, given the fact that the CIA was now aware of it thanks to the Post), Chuck took advantage of the relative privacy to pull Ellie into a quiet corner. He knew that he had to address the fact that his cover girlfriend was walking around with their mom's charm bracelet- the last connection they had to their long lost mother.
"Hey, sis! Ok, now I need for you to not freak out. I know that you saw Sarah with mom's bracelet. It just seemed like something a 'girlfriend' of mine would wear if I were serious about her. No need to read anything more into it."
"No need to read anything into it? Seriously Chuck," Chuck cringed at that, knowing that he'd really stepped in it now. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you just gave that to Agent Walker as a 'cover'. Talk to me Chuck. Do you really like this woman, or is this some kind of seriously misguided way of you saying thank you to her for her risking her life as your secret bodyguard?"
Chuck found it odd to hear of Sarah referred to as Agent Walker by his sister. It just seemed impersonal. It dawned on him that he was already thinking of her and referring to her as Sarah exclusively. Having known her for all of twenty-four hours, it already felt like she was a natural part of his close circle of family and friends.
"El, if I wanted to thank her for risking her life, I wouldn't have used mom's bracelet. But before you get all worked up and start printing wedding invitations or something, regardless of how much I like her, she's not that into me. I mean, I'm just a computer programmer who fell into a political race. Sarah…I'm pretty sure she's got a PhD in badassery."
"That's not even a real word Chuck," Ellie drolly replied. "And don't even think about hacking into Merriam-Webster to put it in the dictionary. You think I didn't figure out what you did to win that game of Scrabble back in college?"
Chuck's grin was unrepentant. "It took them nearly eight months to find my little addition to the English language. I kinda wish they'd kept it."
"Chuck, it wasn't English," Ellie said while giving giving Chuck the flattest of flat looks. "It was Klingon, and not even Klingon from the tv show Klingon, but some of that stuff that you and Bryce had made up at Stanford."
Despite her tone, Ellie marveled at the transformation of Chuck. He had someone plotting to kill him, yet he was more relaxed and happy than she had seen him in months. "By the way Chuck, I've seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she's into you." A bright smile blossomed on Chuck's face at that. "Now, you'd better make sure that Morgan stays distracted enough by food to not let Sarah know the history of her new piece of jewelry." The smile dropped from Chuck's face and was replaced by a look of concern as he rushed out of the room to keep Morgan from blurting out the story behind the bracelet.
The following morning found Chuck locked away with Ellie, Morgan and top campaign aides doing debate preparation. Sarah turned security of the campaign headquarters over to the agents based at the house, and drove to her nearby hotel room. Going into the closet, she pulled out her one piece of luggage and moved it over to the bed. Opening up the luggage, she unclipped a side compartment and carefully slid in the document that she had surreptitiously used Chuck's computer to locate and print out. She wasn't overly keen on the Secret Service, NSA, or (especially not) the CIA learning that she had obtained the document in question.
Slowly tracing her fingertips over the picture of her and Chuck at Jim's Steaks, she carefully closed the compartment to ensure that the photograph didn't get bent. If the alphabet soup agencies knew that she had a copy of the photo, they would likely suspect that she was compromised and yank her from the assignment. If they saw the way that she loving cared for the photograph, they would know that she was emotionally compromised and might wonder if she was mentally compromised to boot.
Sarah next reached into another compartment hidden in her luggage and pulled out a burner phone. Wondering if she was being overly paranoid, she first swept her hotel room to verify there were no bugs (she knew Graham would have no qualms about bugging her room, but she didn't expect that of Butterfield, but it was better to be safe than sorry) before activating her phone. As she dialed a number from memory, Sarah thought back to the halcyon spy days with the CAT squad. Originally a group of four beautiful, yet deadly, spies, the group initially found no success on its missions until Sarah and two of her teammates found proof that the fourth "teammate" was actually a traitor. Much to the enjoyment of Sarah, Carina Miller and Zondra Rizzo, Amy the Traitor decided to resist when they went to arrest her for treason. Sarah was relatively certain that after some surgeries and physical therapy, Amy was likely able to write and speak her confession.
As Sarah listened to the phone ring, she thought back to the success the trio had then enjoyed in shutting down drug cartels, gun runners and black marketers selling nerve agents to any willing buyer. Everyone had underestimated their intelligence, skills and courage. Carina and Zondra wound up being closer than family to her. She saved their asses, and they hers, more times than she could count. They were the best of the best, until some bureaucrat followed the time honored government mantra-if it ain't broke, change it. The squad may have been disbanded, but the blood ties and loyalty would always remain.
"Z," Sarah started without preamble when the call was picked up, "tell me about life in the private sector."
"Blondie. There were days when I thought I would never get this call."
(Two years earlier)
Word had come down from on high- the CATs were done.
"I'm out," Zondra stated the moment the video conference feed cut off. There was such finality to her tone that there was no question of her seriousness.
"What," Sarah asked, shocked that her teammate had ever considered such an action. "You're leaving because they are breaking us up?"
Carina stayed silent, staring hard at Zondra.
"No," Zondra quietly responded, shaking her head so that her rich, brown hair rippled back and forth like waves. "I was going to quit just before the CATs were formed. I had my notice ready and everything. But then they started this team up, and I loved working with you two. We kicked a lot of ass, and did a lot of good. But I can't go back to working solo-or worse, for some handler who has no clue how a field agent operates. Before the CATs, I wasn't sure if what I was doing was actually doing any good. But we were actually making a difference here."
"Anyway, I've got family back in California. I'm tired of never seeing them, of missing weddings, birthdays and births. I'm tired of having to lie about where I am and what I do. I'm done with not being there for people who love me."
"Rizzo," Carina said, her tone as hard as her look. "You do what we do in our world, you get cush assignments, promotions. You do what we do in the real world? You go to jail. Are you sure about this? You sure you can go back to life in the real world after seeing what you've seen? Done what you've done?"
"I'm sure, Carina. I'm sure. It'll be nice not having to constantly be looking over my shoulder, to go into a town and hope there isn't anyone there who I burned or busted in the past. I'll be able to tell people my actual name without wondering if in ten minutes I'm going to have to leave them or kill them."
"I'll keep my number," Zondra promised. "If either-or both- of you need me, I'll be on the next flight out."
She turned and left the room to email her resignation. Her two, now former, teammates watched her leave in stunned disbelief.