A/N: This is the final entry in the Zarnow saga. Thanks to all of you who have made it this far. And thanks for the reviews and PM's and general good wishes. It's what makes this fun.
Hey, Mr. Warner, you own Chuck. Have your people call my people. We've got to talk movie. (Oh, and thanks for lending our heroes Ronald Reagan for the confrontation with the North Koreans.)
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Casey gazed at the placid green hills. It was a warm, sunny southern California day, with only a light breeze blowing, and the green of the neatly trimmed grass was vibrant and lovely. It was a comforting vista, but he felt uncomfortable nevertheless. He had never before attended the funeral of a man he'd killed.
It was a graveside service with a dozen or so mourners seated on folding chairs and listening to the minister recite words of comfort. He wondered who they were and concluded they were probably CIA agents sent as placeholders to maintain Larkin's cover, even in death. Larkin's parents were seated front and center, looking distraught. They might have been the only real mourners there. Well, except for Walker and Bartowski. I suppose they were real mourners, thought Casey, although they each had reasons to hate the deceased. Were they here out of a sense of duty? Obligation? Maybe it was just good manners.
They were standing together closer to the front, but a bit off to one side. Walker was wearing a simple sleeveless black dress. Bartowski was in a dark suit and tie. They stood holding hands. He thought Walker might have been crying, but he couldn't tell from where he was standing. A handsome couple, he thought idly, although Bartowski could use a haircut. He wondered what he would look like in a regulation Marine Corps high and tight. Then he pictured Walker's reaction to that makeover and smiled. Remembering he was at a funeral, he quickly wiped the smile away.
His phone buzzed. General Beckman. "Afternoon, General."
"Morning, Casey. Zarnow is dead."
"How?" asked Casey, stunned.
"They want us to think it was suicide. Concealed poison pill."
"No. No, that's not right, General. He was searched. I searched him myself. He did not have a pill, concealed or otherwise. And anyway, no way he killed himself. He was no loyal-unto-death true believer. He was a mercenary. Only in it for the payday. No payday if you're dead. Not for him."
"Graham and I agree with you. So, he was killed to cover the tracks of whoever was helping him. Someone on the inside. Tell your team."
"I will, but not until later tonight. We are going to a dinner party hosted by Bartowski's sister, Ellie. I'll let them enjoy it."
"Your call, Major. How is the team? Your results speak for themselves, but your view?"
"It's a good, strong team, Ma'am. Don't know that I've ever seen one with more potential."
"Bartowski?"
"He's an untrained civilian, but of enormous value, even when he's not flashing. He's smart as hell, brave as hell, and has a great attitude. I'm proud of him. When he flashes, that gives us even more of an edge."
"Well, don't get too comfortable, Casey. The new Intersect will be up and running in six months."
"And what happens to Bartowski when this is done?"
"Honestly...I don't know. But what I do know is that if he's one in a hundred Intersects...one in a thousand...he's safer than if he's the only one. And safer is a good thing."
"Walker will be happy about that."
"The relationship with Agent Walker? What do you think?"
"I've never known them without it, so it's tough to say. At a guess, I'd say two plus two equals five. They seem to complement each other. It is certainly not an impediment or a distraction. They are totally professional when they need to be. I mean, other than deliberately flirting with each other just to get on my nerves."
She chuckled, "Does it work?"
"Hell, yeah, it works. I hate seeing all those lady feelings on display," he growled.
"Well, deal with it, Casey. It's worth it to get the North Koreans and bastards like Andric."
"Roger that. Will the North Koreans hit the press or are you keeping it quiet?"
"Quiet. POTUS is giving them to South Korea. The Coast Guard picked up four more on the offshore ship. They will all be traded for a bunch of South Korean spies held in the North. So, some South Koreans spies will soon be home with their families thanks to Team Bartowski. You should be proud."
"I'll tell my guys shortly."
"Shortly? Where are you?" she asked.
"Larkin's funeral."
"In Los Angeles? Why? He's from Connecticut. His only connection to California is four years at Stanford and that's hundreds of miles from you. Even his cover was in DC. Why is he being buried in LA?"
"Not too sure. Grandparents, I think. Family plot. Something like that."
"Oh. OK. Well, yes, tell Agent Walker and Mr. Bartowski they should be proud."
"Yes, Ma'am. I will. Have a good one."
"You too, Casey...Oh, I almost forgot. Graham and I finished that paperwork you and Agent Walker wanted. I'll email it to you. Just print it out and get it signed."
"Great. Thank you. I'll do that. Talk soon." Beckman hung up without saying good-bye.
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Sarah wore jeans and a blue top, but Chuck still wore his only suit. He opened the door to his apartment and said, "Anybody home?"
Ellie scurried over from the kitchen, wiping her hands dry on a dish towel. She saw Sarah and almost bounced from excitement. "You must be Sarah, the girl who stole my little brother." She was grinning from ear to ear.
Sarah handed her the bottle of cold Chardonnay and said, "Hi, Ellie, Actually, I'm just borrowing him from you. And thanks so much for sharing." Sarah was smiling happily, a wide toothy grin.
"Thank you for this," she said as she took the wine. "And as to my brother, he's the best," said Ellie, smiling at Chuck with love. "I'm delighted to share."
Devon joined them at the door, took one look at Sarah and exclaimed, "Whoa. Way to go, Chuckster." Giving him a huge high five, he continued, "Knew you had it in you, you old dog." He reached for Sarah's hand and said, "Hi, I'm Devon."
"Pleased to meet you, Devon. I've heard so much about you from Chuck. So much about you both. Thank you for the invite."
Morgan came over from the couch and said, "Pot roast. My favorite."
There was a knock at the door and there was Casey holding a cake. "Hi, Ellie. Thought I'd bring a dessert."
"Hi, John, that's so sweet of you. What is it?"
"Salted vanilla layer cake. I made it this afternoon," answered Casey.
"Wow. That sounds great. Home run for us that you moved in next door," said Devon.
"Well, you can thank Chuck for that. He was the one who told me about the empty apartment."
"He did us all a service. You are very welcome. Come on in," said Ellie, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
Morgan said, with a frown, "Did you really bake it yourself?" He sounded skeptical. "It looks store-bought."
Casey growled at him, "I don't joke about salted vanilla, numbnuts."
"Excuse me, guys. I want to get out of this suit," said Chuck. He walked back to his room.
"Let me go with you. Want to ask you a question about work," said Casey.
"Work? I can be helpful," said Morgan.
"Not your business, Moron," said Casey.
In his room, as Chuck shrugged off his jacket and began to loosen his tie, he said to Casey, "Thanks for the wine for Sarah to bring. That was a very nice touch."
"No worries, Bartowski. And don't ever say I did something nice. Listen, there're some papers for you to sign." He took a folded set of papers out of his back pocket.
"Another non-disclosure?"
"No, an employment contract. If you're gonna be an analyst on the team, you're gonna get paid. Here it is," he said, putting the papers down on the desk. "Read it and sign it where it's marked. No way to negotiate it, but you might want to know what it says."
"I...I never asked for money," Chuck said, clearly surprised.
"Of course not. You didn't even think of it. Because you're good...and you want to help...and you're stupid." Chuck laughed. "Look, it's the government for God's sake. The whole thing runs on paperwork. If you were an asset, it would be one thing, but when you insisted on being an analyst you fell into a different category. A category that needed paperwork. And there's no slot there for an unpaid volunteer. So," he gestured at the papers on the table. "Pay and paperwork."
Chuck put his shirt in a laundry bag, and picked up the papers. Looking over his shoulder, Casey pointed to a letter/number combination and said, "That's your government service level. You skipped a few entry level ranks and are coming in at a mid-level. It's less than Walker and much less than me, because we've been working for Uncle Same for years. Here's the salary and here's the additional stipend for living in Los Angeles."
"The what?"
"Government salaries are indexed to the area where you live. LA is expensive, so they pay you more. Here's a clothing stipend Walker and I negotiated for you. Figured you'd have to go into the field with us sometimes in case you..."
"Wait a second, you and Sarah negotiated this...for me?"
"Of course, we did. We negotiated with the NSA and the CIA both. You weren't going to do it yourself. If Beckman or Graham make any pissy comments on the next conference calls, you'll know why." Chuck gave a tiny snort. "Couldn't get you a housing allowance, though."
"What's that?"
"If you have temporary duty somewhere, you get a housing allowance. Both Sarah and I are based in DC, so get a housing allowance to live in LA, but according to the government, this is your permanent station, so no allowance."
'Casey," said Chuck looking at the numbers on the contract, "with this money, I can get a place of my own. I don't have to live with my sister and her boyfriend anymore. Thank you. Thank you very much."
"I guess, but do me a favor and don't move too soon. I just got the courtyard wired up with a ton of surveillance. A mosquito can't fart out there without us knowing about it. Be a pain in my ass to have to do it all over again."
"Wait," said Chuck, pulling on a pair of jeans. "Why all the surveillance?"
"Protection, Moron."
"You need surveillance cameras to protect me, the Intersect. Of course. That makes sense."
"To protect us both. I live here too, remember."
"Did you put any bugs here? In my apartment?"
"Did you put any bugs in my apartment?" asked Casey.
"What? Of course, not," said Chuck.
"Well, then why would I put bugs in your apartment? If you were an asset it would be an entirely different protocol. But as an analyst, nope."
"Makes me happy I made that call early on," said Chuck, chuckling.
"You and me both. The last thing I need is to listen to you and Walker mixing your chocolate and peanut butter. Ugghhh." Chuck laughed.
"Thank you, Casey. You're looking out for me. You and Sarah both. I really appreciate it."
"Don't..."
Ellie opened the door and said, "Don't want to interrupt the big Buy More meeting, but …"
"No, no," said Casey. "I was just leaving." He was happy to leave the room before Bartowski started saying, 'I love ya, man.' He headed back out to the others.
Ellie turned to Chuck and said, "Wow.. Just wow...I mean, I knew you had it in you...but she's, wow, she's really great."
"I know, Ellie. I kind of can't believe it myself."
"No, Chuck. You have no reason to be nervous. You have a great girl out there. And she is lucky to have you, too." Ellie squealed, and said, "This is awesome."
"Isn't that Devon's line?" said Chuck as they were leaving his room.
Ellie went to the kitchen to finish up making dinner and Chuck joined a conversation between Casey and Devon. Devon said, "Yeah, John. Probably three mornings a week, depending on my hospital schedule."
"Distance?"
"Five or six miles. Depending on how I feel."
"That sounds about right. Want company sometime?," said Casey.
"Love it," said Devon.
"Guys, I've decided to get in shape. Can I get some advice? I figure I'd ask you both, rather than Morgan," asked Chuck with a chuckle.
"Awesome," boomed the Captain. "This is gonna be awesome, Bro." He had a huge happy smile.
"What brought this on?" asked Casey.
"Because I raced Sarah up some stairs yesterday and she beat my socks off. I don't mind losing to her. She's in kick ass shape. But I'd just as soon not be humiliated. And anyway, if I'm going to be Sarah Walker's boyfriend, I guess I should look the part."
Devon nodded with wise understanding, "A woman can always get a man to change his lifestyle. World's oldest story."
"Sure, Chuck. We can work on that," said Casey.
"Devon," called Ellie from the kitchen. "I need you to lift the pot roast."
"Coming," said Devon, as he headed over.
"Question for you, Bartowski. Last night, in the middle of the fighting with the North Koreans, when Zarnow and Moon broke for the helicopter on the roof..."
"Yeah?" asked Chuck.
"You said the tracker showed them moving up, moving up towards the roof. How? Those trackers are two dimensional only. They don't show altitude. How did you know?"
"I re-wrote the software on the app."
"You what?"
"The app that goes on the phone. To work with the trackers. I re-wrote it yesterday morning to show elevation. I put the new app on my phone to test it and it worked. I'll show you later and install it for you and Sarah. It only works if there are enough transceivers around, though. I made it triangulate. Sort of like what a GPS does with the satellites. You see..."
Ellie called, "Dinner."
Everyone sat down to dinner and began to eat. After much good food, several bottles of wine and more laughs than could be counted, they were ready for Casey's cake for dessert. Chuck and Sarah got up to get the cake and the cake plates while Morgan and Devon cleared the table. Once in the kitchen, Sarah put her arm around his waist, and snuggled into his side. Chuck said, "Thanks for the contract stuff...for looking out for me."
"Shhhh," she said. Morgan passed. She continued, "You're welcome...always...Casey told me how you re-wrote the app on the phones to show elevation. I'm really impressed with my new boyfriend, just so you know. That's pretty smart work for a guy making $11 an hour at a Buy More."
"Thanks. Glad I did it. Got me to the roof in time to stop Zarnow...You know, I'm really glad I didn't get on the helicopter. Can you imagine? Me in that helicopter? That might have been a real problem."
"Oh, yeah," said Sarah, laughing. "That scenario has disaster written all over it." Chuck joined in her laughter. "Give me a kiss," she said. And he did.
He was enjoying the kiss, and the feeling of her body pressed to his, until they heard Ellie squeal in delight and Devon bellow, "Way to go, you two."
Breaking the kiss, Chuck blushed and said, "Not huge fan of PDA, as a general rule."
With wicked humor sparkling in her blue eyes and a small smile on her lips, she said, "Well, you're going to have to get a little used to it, Buster." She was glad she'd thrown a small overnight bag into the back of her car with a change of clothes for tomorrow (and that stupid Wienerlicous outfit), because she had no intention of letting him sleep alone.
"Ok. If I must."
Casey's cake was a huge hit. After everyone had second helpings, people left the table to move to the living room. Morgan broke out a game of Trivial Pursuit and people began to choose up teams.
Sarah saw Casey make his way into the kitchen area to grab a beer from the ice chest. A question had been nagging at her for a couple of days and she wanted to ask him. When he saw her following, he wordlessly opened a beer and offered it to her. She took the beer and put her empty bottle in the sink next to some others.
"Casey," she said, "Can I ask you something?" He made an affirmative noise, and she continued, "Zarnow's destroyed car...it had some hallmarks of a CIA hit."
"Yup," he said.
"And Larkin was my partner before he went rogue."
"Yup."
"Why didn't you suspect me? Why didn't you think I had killed Zarnow? Gone rogue myself? I thought you had killed him when I found the Incinerator, but you had enough evidence to at least suspect me and you didn't. Why not?"
They were both leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter, looking across the kitchen.
"It would have been a betrayal," said Casey after a long pause.
"So? I'm CIA. I betray three people before breakfast most days."
"No," he said, "it would have been a betrayal of Chuck." With his beer bottle he gestured at Chuck across the room.
Something inside her lurched at the thought, but she ignored it. She said, "So?"
"I knew you wouldn't betray him...no way...not an option."
She paused for what seemed to her to be a long time and finally said, her voice a little smaller than moments ago, "Why do you say that?"
It was his turn to pause. He stood looking away from her and sipping his beer, his face unreadable in profile. Eventually he said, "Because you're head-over-heels in love with him."
"What? No, I'm not. Look, I like him, for sure. He's a great guy. But love? No way. Spies don't fall in love, you know that. I mean it's only been a couple of weeks we're dating. And I was gone for one of them. I mean, maybe one day. But, no. No, I'm not."
Still not looking at her he said, "Oh. Ok. My mistake. Never mind." He pushed off the counter and left the kitchen to begin a conversation with Devon about pyramid sets.
She stood in the kitchen thinking about what Casey had said and looking at Chuck across the room. He was talking with Morgan and had a goofy expression on his face. His nose was crinkling with his laughter and his brown eyes danced with mirth. It was absurd. Crazy. In love? Her? Sarah Walker, in love? No way. I am not in love. I am not. I. Am. Not?
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A/N2: One of the world's most elusive arms dealers comes to Los Angeles to obtain a vial of stolen plutonium hidden in the frame of a painting with Britain's MI-6 hot on his heels. Anybody think that Team Bartowski can avoid the fun? Stay tuned.