A/N: Rumor has it that ownership of Chuck is kept in a vault in the third sub-basement of the Warner Brothers Studio in Burbank. It's heavily guarded by armed security personnel, none of whom are Fulcrum agents. That's just how valuable it is, I guess.

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It was a pleasant one bedroom apartment off M Street in Washington, DC, in the neighborhood known as Southwest Washington, just a few blocks from the river. The phone alarm on the bedside of the pleasant bedroom of the pleasant apartment went off at seven AM. Chuck heard a groan from his bedmate, her blonde hair spread over his face, tickling his nose, her bare legs intertwined with his. Her voice was muffled by his shoulder as she said, still mostly asleep, "Make it stop." He blindly felt around the side table for his phone and, picking it up, touched it to silence the noise. She murmured "Mmmmm" and snuggled deeper into his side.

They had arrived the prior afternoon from Geneva and rented an extra-large SUV at the airport. On the way to Sarah's apartment from the airport they had stopped at an office supply store and bought packing boxes and tape.

Although it was quite late for them, given the time difference, Chuck had never been to the nation's capital, so Sarah took him out to Georgetown for dinner. The drive there was somewhat meandering, as she took him past many of the landmarks he'd only seen in pictures. The White House, the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial. Chuck loved it all.

Following a wonderful meal and a bottle of wine at a small bistro that Sarah liked, they were both pretty tired. After a relaxing stroll through the narrow streets of that quiet, high-priced neighborhood, they decided to go to bed early. They had to negotiate what time to set the alarm for. They had a very busy day coming up, but also wanted to get some much needed rest. On the plane from Switzerland, Sarah had made a checklist of all the things she had to do in Washington to relocate to Burbank permanently, while Chuck had prepared slides about cracking into the new iPhones for his presentation to the tech guys that Beckman and Graham had arranged.

He groaned into her hair and said, "We have to start moving around."

"Five more minutes," she said, holding him tighter.

He kissed the top of her head and said, "You sleep. I'll go take a shower."

"No," she said, refusing to let go. "You're not taking a shower alone. That's no fun."

"I thought we decided long ago that showering together does not save time," he said with a chuckle, stroking her bare back.

"So? It doesn't, but we are going to be really busy today. I don't want to start the day with a lonely shower. That just makes the rest of the day sucky," she groused. She lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him long and hard and enough to wake all of him up. Looking down to see what she'd accomplished, she gave a satisfied grin and said, "Ok. Now I'm ready for a shower. Wanna come along?"

"You know I do," he responded with enthusiasm.

Once showered and dressed, Sarah ran downstairs to get them coffee and egg sandwiches from a deli while Chuck built the boxes they had bought. They began to pack the apartment. It wasn't quite as huge a task as it might have seemed. The apartment had been rented furnished, complete with kitchen ware. Otherwise, there was little in the way of personal stuff. It was almost spartan. Sarah didn't have any pictures on the walls, no knick-knacks on shelves, not even a plant. The only books were her college textbooks. The apartment was almost as sterile as one of those extended stay hotel rooms before the guest occupied.

When he asked her about it, she said, "Yeah...well, this was just a place I stayed between missions. I wasn't settled here or anything. I have no real feelings for it. This is the place where I kept my stuff...and I don't have tons of stuff..." she saw the look on his face and said, "Ok, I have a lot of clothes and shoes. But otherwise not too much stuff. It's fine, this place...There's nothing wrong with it, I just don't care about it. Chuck, I wasn't kidding about our place. It's a home, not just a place to keep my stuff. It's my home. This place.. No...but, with you...With you I'm home. You are the difference...you're my home, Chuck. You're my home. With you I feel safe."

She looked at him seriously and sweetly and with just so much love in her eyes. He put down the packing tape he'd been holding and took her in his arms. He kissed her softly and said, "I feel the same way about you, sweetie. You mean everything in the world to me."

They broke the kiss and went back to packing, but they kept looking at each other with loving glances for a while, until Sarah threw a dishtowel at him and said, with a grin, "You big sap." That got them both laughing.

Chuck borrowed a handtruck from the management office and began to move boxes to the back of the rented SUV. Everything fit, with some room to spare. While he was loading the truck, Sarah was throwing away whatever items they were not going to ship to California. Once the apartment was empty of Sarah's belongings, and they had given it a quick sweep to tidy up, they gave the keys and the handtruck back to the managing agent and left the building for the last time.

The first stop was a storage unit Sarah had rented in case she needed go to ground with a new identity. They had to go through it to collect the stuff that she could re-use for an identity from California and throw away the balance of the items. She'd have to make the same preparations on the west coast, but this storage unit was not going to be useful here in DC any more. She'd be unable to do the necessary upkeep to keep it active from thousands of miles away. Now that the unit was empty, she would cancel it at the end of the month. She debated emptying two other small caches of useful things she had secreted around town and decided against it. Who knows if they might ever come in handy?

The next stop was her bank. She emptied the safe deposit box and closed that arrangement with the bank. She'd close the account totally, but she had to wait for all the outstanding checks to clear first. She could do that bit from Burbank though.

The visit to a parcel delivery service to drop off all the boxes that they were shipping was relatively painless. There were still a number of boxes in the back of the SUV, but those weren't being shipped commercially.

Now a little pressed for time, Sarah hoped for easy traffic for the drive into Maryland. Luckily, the Baltimore Washington Parkway heading north was quiet at that time of the morning, after the morning rush. At the Annapolis Junction, still south of Baltimore, they got off the highway and entered the United States Army Base of Fort Meade, using their government ID badges to make it easily past the guards, who, in any event, had been given their names in advance by the NSA.

Chuck marveled at the sheer size of the government facility, being about eight square miles. He knew that a number of government and military organizations were housed there, from the United States Army Field Band to the National Security Agency that they were visiting this morning. The NSA building itself was an enormous black glass box surrounded by a vast ocean of parking spaces.

One of General Beckman's aides, a nondescript man by the name of Berkley, met them at the entrance. They showed their government ID's to the security guards in the lobby and were authorized to pass through with specially encoded visitor's badges. The badges indicated that they were not NSA employees, but not civilians either, and were permitted to venture throughout most of the building.

Berkley took them through the building to a small auditorium on an upper floor where the General met them. "Good morning, Agent Walker, Mr. Carmichael." She was careful to use his code name around the other agents in the hallway.

"Good morning, Ma'am," they said.

"Thank you for coming to talk to our people, Chuck. The techniques that you share with them are going to do a lot of good."

"My pleasure, Ma'am. Always happy to talk to a bunch of nerds."

"Well, I think you will find the technical people a pretty receptive audience. They were shocked that you could do it at all and delighted that you were coming to show them how."

Looking at his watch, Berkley said, "We should probably get inside, General."

"Alright, Berkley. Let's go," said the General.

There were people standing around the hallway, crowding into the room. Berkley elbowed them aside and led Chuck, Sarah and Beckman to the front row, where seats had been reserved for them. Sarah gave Chuck a quick kiss and wished him luck.

Chuck spent a couple of minutes setting up his computer to use the giant screen behind him as a monitor.

Chuck had expected maybe a dozen people from the NSA and CIA's technical departments to hear what he had to say about cracking the iPhone, maybe a couple of dozen at the most. He was quite surprised, though. There were well over a hundred men and women crowded into the room. Every seat was taken and there were people standing in the back and in the aisles along the side. He began to get a bit nervous. Berkley hooked him up with a microphone and looked at him questioningly. Chuck gave him a thumbs up.

Berkley started, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. We have a visitor today who has something to explain to us about how to access the newer Apple iPhone. As you know, without the password, those phones are impossible to access. And, we don't often get the password. So, until last week, they were a black box to us. But this gentleman, Mr. Charles Carmichael, has apparently cracked the problem. He has agreed to visit us today to explain how it's done. Mr. Carmichael..."

Chuck stood up and said, "Good morning, everybody. Thanks for coming. And thank you, Mr. Berkley. So, they've asked me to talk about how to crack the new iPhone. Wow... a lot of people here. I don't really talk to audiences and stuff very often. This is sort of new to me, so I'm a little nervous. I was talking to General Beckman before coming out here. She told me not to be too smart, too funny, or too charming … in other words she just told me to be myself." Chuck gave them an engaging grin as the audience laughed.

From his laptop, Chuck pulled up a circuit diagram onto the big screen at the front of the room. "So, here's the circuitry in the back of one of those phones. I'll bet many of you are familiar with circuit diagrams, but for those who aren't..." Chuck began to explain the electronics of the phone. The electrical engineers in the audience knew what he was talking about and followed along easily. His enthusiasm and good humor was contagious. He explained things simply and clearly and kept the audience laughing throughout. After about ten minutes, he switched out the circuit diagram for a schematic of the software on the phone. The software engineers in the audience knew what he was talking about and followed along easily. After another ten minutes, he explained how the software and the hardware fit together to leave a tiny gap that could be exploited to open the phone with a minor adjustment to the circuitry. Both the electrical engineers and software engineers were shocked at the answer that none of them had figured out on their own. He smiled to see so many nodding heads in the audience.

"Great. Looks like you are all with me." He grinned engagingly. "I know...pretty cool, right? I love it when we solve a puzzle like this. Excellent. Now, I know you'll all go upstairs and pop open your iPhones and start messing around. Just want you to know that this technique breaks the phone, so don't do it to your own phones, guys. I don't want to get in trouble with your parents when you try to explain that you broke your phone and they couldn't call you." More laughter. "Anybody have any questions?"

The first man to raise his hand had three PhD's was the head of the technical department for the NSA. He asked, with a bit of a smile, "Mr. Carmichael, is it true that you came up with this solution in the back of a car?"

Chuck looked a little embarrassed and said, "Well, yes...but, it was a Mercedes." The audience laughed again.

A man asked, "Will this work on other phones?"

"I don't know. I only looked at the phone on the mission I was on. I'd have to check out the circuitry on the other phones..." Chuck looked pensive and gave a bit of a shrug.

The next questioner said, "How'd you disarm the bomb in Union Station a few months ago?"

"Well, I didn't really. The bomb squad disarmed the bomb. I just stopped the countdown until they could get there and save everybody. That wasn't too hard. The trigger was also a phone, so I broke it. I broke the phone. They are tough to fix, but actually pretty easy to break. You guys can see that, from what I did to the iPhone we're talking about today." Again, he got the crowd laughing. "No, actually, I looped the countdown clock so it was stuck. It didn't leave the number it was on. We had to keep the signal alive or...well, boom... and that would be bad."

The first man asked another question, "May I ask where you earned your PhD, Mr. Carmicheal?"

More than a little startled by the question, Chuck glanced up at Beckman who shook her head. "Sorry, Sir. Not allowed to talk about myself too much. You guys understand...secret and stuff. Figure you guys from No Such Agency would appreciate that." Once again, the room started to laugh.

The next questioner shouted out her question amidst the general laughter, "Can't even tell us if you're single?"

Without even thinking about it, Sarah snapped her head around to find the woman who had shouted the question and bellowed angrily, "HE'S NOT."

The entire room erupted in even more laughter, while Chuck just smiled and blushed.

With no further questions, Berkley thanked Chuck for the talk and the crowd began to break up. Chuck was immediately surrounded by a dozen or so scientists from both the NSA and the CIA eager to talk to him more about the technical aspects of some of what he'd been working on. Sarah pushed her way through that crowd and went up to him.

"Great job, sweetie," she said and gave him a resounding kiss. "I'm proud of you." The scientists crowding around him were stunned. Chuck was a little discomfited with the PDA, but not so much that he didn't enjoy the kiss. Sarah put one arm around his waist and melted into his side. If anyone still wondered if he were single, there was no more doubt about that particular question. More than one of the scientist's mouths hung open in awe. Had there been a vote at that moment for king of the nerds, Chuck's coronation would have been immediate and unanimous. A few of them looked like they wanted to pick him up on their shoulders and carry him around the room. At the same time, more than a few members of the audience knew of Agent Walker's reputation and were shocked at what they had seen. Either the Ice Queen was human after all or this Carmichael guy must be pretty hot shit, or maybe both.

The scientists introduced themselves and thanked him for the presentation. One of them wanted to talk about the software patch Chuck had created for the tracker watch to have it provide information in three dimensions. One of them was interested in the device he'd created that would trigger an alarm if a transmitter (other than a cell phone) entered the area, effectively shielding the area from eavesdropping devices. Several of them were interested in learning what other projects he was working on.

During the conversations, Sarah never left his side. Among the scientists were four women. Sarah wasn't taking any chances. It wasn't that she didn't trust Chuck. She absolutely trusted him. Her motivation was as instinctive as an animal marking its territory. If Chuck was uncomfortable with her possessiveness, he gave no indication. One of the men, the man who had asked the first question and was in charge of the technical department at the NSA, asked for Chuck's card and asked permission to call him occasionally for his judgement on thorny technical problems they faced. When Beckman silently nodded her approval, Chuck smiled and said of course, but he would have to get in contact through the General, as Chuck didn't carry cards.

He was in his element and with his people. They made jokes about circuitry that were apparently hilarious (something to do with a guy named Ohm). They asked him if this or that project they were working on had promise. They wanted to know what he thought of certain equipment in the field. One of them made a Star Wars reference that Chuck carried to the next level. Sarah knew she wasn't really included in the by-play among Chuck and his new friends (for there was no other way to describe these people), but it didn't bother her. She was just so happy to see him so happy and at ease.

It took about twenty minutes for the crowd around Chuck to disburse. Once they were pretty much alone again, General Beckman said, "Thank you for that, Chuck. I thought it went very well. Will you stay for lunch?"

"Certainly, General. It would be our pleasure," said Chuck. He and Sarah had discussed the possibility that Beckman would invite them and agreed beforehand to accept the offer.

General Beckman led them through the vast facility to the executive dining room on the top floor. It was a large wood paneled room with white table clothes on the tables and quiet attentive waiters and waitresses in attendance.

Once they had been seated, Beckman said, "Well I think that went well. I didn't understand what you were talking about, but the techies did and they certainly appreciated it. Despite your warnings, I think there will be a rash of broken iPhones coming up soon."

Chuck laughed softly and said, "Yeah, that's why I warned them. Nerds like us enjoy taking things apart to see how they work. When they try to do what I told them about, well, the phone won't be good for calls anymore." Chuck shrugged. "But, on the plus side, you can learn what's saved on it."

"Which is what we intelligence officers need sometimes," said Beckman.

"I have to say, though, General, I was surprised," said Chuck. The waitress came and took their orders.

"Surprised by what, Chuck?" asked Beckman.

"By the number of people. You have a larger tech contingent than I expected."

"Oh, no. This is the NSA. We have tons of technical people. And you have to add the CIA's scientists too. They were invited as well. But that's not why it was crowded. Those weren't all technical people."

"I don't understand. If it wasn't technical people, who was at the talk?"

"Spies, Chuck. Spies from the NSA and CIA. A lot of these people couldn't care less about how to crack a phone, but when they heard that you were giving a talk they just wanted to get a look at Carmichael. Think about it, Chuck. Nobody knows him from training or has ever been on a mission with this agent. He pops up out of thin air. Suddenly he's the hero of Union Station and starts pulling off some pretty extraordinary successes. La Ciudad. The White Dragons. Kirk. Word hasn't even spread about Selenica yet. He's partnered with the best agent the CIA has and the best the NSA has. The two best agents the country can field, partnered with an enigma. A ghost. Who is this guy? Where'd he come from? Where did he get his training? Christ...is he even American? That's what a lot of them are here to see. To see who you are."

Sarah said, "Guess you can't blame them too much. When you put it that way, I'd be curious too."

"Exactly," said Beckman, as their lunch arrived.

"Well, those guys were probably disappointed with what they found," said Chuck with a sheepish smile.

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"Well, they were looking for a James Bond super-spy and then ended up finding a kind of a goofy Q instead," said Chuck with a bit of a laugh.

"Maybe," said Beckman seriously, shrugging a shoulder. "But the results speak for themselves. The ones with any brains are probably re-thinking their ideas of what a super-spy brings to the table. What makes you special."

"Thank you, but...from everything you've said, General, the ...reason I came to your attention in the first place. That ...circumstance. That's not known... internally, I mean." Chuck had hesitated to talk about the Intersect aloud, even in that location.

"It's not. That project isn't well known outside the circle of people involved with it. And that's deliberate. Knowing that Fulcrum is after it, the less well known the details are the better," said Beckman. "Having said that, Fulcrum knew all about it the first time around. We know that from the interrogation that commenced Operation Thirty," she said, referring to Bryce's undercover mission with Fulcrum. "We are doing our best to keep the continuation of the project even more secure."

"Must be frustrating that they were able to access it," said Sarah.

"Yes. Fulcrum had managed to conceal Zarnow's traitorous activities and use him to learn about it. With the penetration that they have apparently accomplished against us...well, let's just say that I worry as much about them as I do about Al Qaeda at this point."

"What's the status of the project? You know...to make more of ….well, me,...if I may ask," said Chuck.

She gave a mirthless chuckle and said, "Yes. You of all people have the right to ask. It's progressing. Larkin set us back a long way, but not to square one. All the effort figuring out how to code, how to set things up, that had been done. All the false starts and dead ends are eliminated this time around. Now it's just the brute work of putting it all together. A huge task, but quicker the second time around."

"So, you'll be trying again soon?" asked Chuck.

"With volunteers this time?" asked Sarah, with a small undercurrent of criticism.

"Yes, we are probably a month or so away from another attempt. And yes, Agent Walker, with volunteers this time around. We are keeping the set up inside this building and trying to disguise it as something else." Beckman wore a sour expression as she answered Sarah's question, as if the thought of the circumstances leading to Chuck's downloading the Intersect was deeply distasteful. "But in the meantime, Chuck, you remain the only one."

"Happy to help, Ma'am," said Chuck.

"I know you are. And we thank you. You didn't sign up for any of this and stepped up when duty called. You have earned our gratitude and respect. You should know that." Chuck started to say something, but Beckman held up a hand to stop him. "And just for the record, the work you have done for us...and done exceptionally well, is not even substantially related to that thing in your head. Hell, Chuck, the presentation you just gave to a roomful of PhD's is a perfect example. That has zero to do with ...it...with the database. Graham was right to offer you a spot at the Farm. With or without what you downloaded, you have a tremendous amount to offer your country."

"Thank you, General."

Sarah was surprised. She couldn't wait to talk to Casey and tell him that his buttoned-up boss was sitting there over iced tea and sandwiches and singing Chuck's praises.

"Have you given any thought to taking him up on his offer?" asked Beckman.

"I'm still considering it, Ma'am. It's a very generous offer," said Chuck, dodging the question. He thought he should give his answer directly to Graham, as it was Graham who asked him. It just seemed to be the polite thing to do.

"Not generous at all. Pure self-interest. I'm just annoyed I didn't think of it first. To try to get you over here, I mean," she said. She really did look annoyed, but that seemed to be her resting face.

"Thank you, General," said Chuck.

"Your team has pretty busy lately. Monday you collected the SP-117 from your asset. Tuesday you stopped the Selenica bomb plot. Sunday you helped the French stop Federov. Today you are here lecturing. That's not too bad for a week's work."

Chuck grinned at her and said, "To tell the truth, Ma'am, I'm having the time of my life. I love what I'm doing with Sarah and Casey." He reached out and took Sarah's hand and said, "And I love my girlfriend. I would never say everything is perfect. That's just asking for trouble. Total jinx. So, how about I just say, things are pretty damn good right now?"

He and Sarah looked at each other with small smiles and love in their eyes as they intertwined their fingers.

Sarah said, nodding, "Pretty damn good."

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A/N2: I want to thank my friend HighFidelity for his suggestions on the Fort Meade presentation that Chuck did. I hope I did his ideas justice.

A/N3: In real life, the National Security Agency is so secret that people joke that NSA stands for "No Such Agency."