A/N: I (SC) am back from Kaua'i and I'm on a damn mission with my fic now. I have those horse blinder thingies on. Shit's getting real. Let's dive head first into this Lon Kirk business, yo. Let's go.

Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck and we aren't making any money from this story.


"Hennessy is not for beginners you know. It's strong, but smooth," Casey said after five minutes of silence in the car. Chuck never answered, wondering what happened to silent, grunty Casey. "I'm normally never for mixing, but Walker is for mixing...the red label that is, not the black." Chuck turned slowly toward Casey, glaring at him, knowing that Sarah was wearing a black dress. "If I was gonna be crazy and mix the Hennessy with anything, I'd do the black, because that would be strong, and it might blow the fuck out of your life, but for one evening it would be worth it."

"Probably wouldn't remember it the next day," Chuck replied, still glaring.

"Your body would probably never forget it," Casey replied. Chuck, seething, looked away.

"What happened to Quiet Casey?"

"What, you don't like that I'm trying to form a bond with you, form a relationship in case the CIA decides Walker would be better suited somewhere else?"

Chuck was silent for a moment and then, against his better judgement, spoke. "She wouldn't go," he said resolutely.

"'Bout damn time you figured that out," Casey muttered.

"Casey—"

"Shut it, numbnuts, we're back to silent."

"This is about the beach, isn't it?"

"I said we never talk about that again, now shut your trap!" The rest of the ride found the two in silence.

}o{

The ride to the event was spent in perfect silence, mercifully. No small talk, just a few words shared between the two agents to make sure they were on the same page for the mission. Agent Hennessy was a professional. For once. And she was so damn relieved he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about anything but their tasks for the night. It was such a welcome change.

He offered her his arm as they walked down the grandiose staircase and onto the casino floor, no words exchanged, and she held onto him as she cast her gaze around the room. "I don't see Kirk yet," she murmured, knowing Hennessy wasn't the only one who could hear her.

Casey and Chuck were listening in on the comms.

"Probably making the rounds, as any good host would," Hennessy replied, also looking for their target.

"Hit the tables and see if you can't just mingle in the crowd for a bit 'til we spot him," Casey's voice came over the comms.

Graham and Beckman floated them one hundred grand for the night and they were going to have to make it last for as long as they couldn't find Lon Kirk in the mess of suits and gowns.

"What if Agent Hennessy trips one of the waiters?" Chuck piped up as Hennessy led her through the tables. "That'll get eyes on you two."

"Subtlety is key in this, and that's not very subtle," Hennessy replied smoothly. "Think subtle."

"I was just thinkin' … Maybe I swing by with a tray of drinks and oopsie, martini tipped, oh no Lon Kirk's jacket has vodka on it, oh and there's Agent Hennessy with a napkin. Then boom, strike up a convo."

Sarah tried hard not to roll her eyes at Chuck. "Still not very subtle, Chuck."

"Right, right. I'll keep thinkin'."

"Maybe don't," Casey chirped sarcastically.

"Anybody see Kirk yet?" Hennessy asked, giving Sarah a bit of a nod towards a craps table. She smiled at him and slid up against the table as he stepped in behind her, asking for a few hundred chips.

"Negative," Chuck murmured. Sarah heard him gasp in her ear then and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry. Don't worry, vodka is clear liquid. I'm sure it won't stain…"

She heard Hennessy sigh heavily behind her as they played the table, intent on winning a little, losing a little.

They spent fifteen minutes subtly glancing around the room and not being able to find Lon Kirk while they bet at the same craps table before Casey cleared his throat pointedly, a different tone to his voice from the tone he'd been using while dealing for patrons at his own table. "Sir. Your bet?"

She exchanged a quick glance with Hennessy and they pulled back from the table after the round was finished, both of them walking slowly through the crowd as if searching for a lucky table, pressed close the way any young couple who enjoyed one another's company might be. "Where's the table?" Hennessy asked.

"I can't see Casey, either," she said.

"I found him," Chuck murmured then. "And I see you two. Take a sharp right and move towards the piano."

As they followed Chuck's instructions, Sarah spotted Casey running the roulette table...and there was Lon Kirk, sitting alone, a pile of chips in front of him. That was a pretty damn lucky break.

Sarah got to the table first and Kirk's eyes lifted up to look at her...then dragged down her slowly. Knowing his reputation, she wasn't exactly surprised by his reaction to her appearance. But she sat down, leaving a seat for Hennessy between her and their mark. Kirk's eyes were still fastened on her as she smiled politely at him, Hennessy finally plopping down gracefully in the seat she left for him. Sarah turned to beam at her date and he grinned back handsomely.

"Think we found a lucky table, hun?" he asked.

"I dunno, sweetie," she said back. "There's only one person here." They both smiled at Kirk and he sniffed in humor at the remark.

"Oh, I'm very good luck. I, uh, I don't believe we've met yet," Lon Kirk said smoothly, setting his drink down. He reached over to shake Hennessy's hand. "I'm Lon Kirk. I'm the host of this event."

"Michael Warwick," Hennessy said, just as smoothly, returning the handshake politely. "Warwick Industries. Appreciate the invite. It's been some time since I've gotten my head out of the company's business."

"I'll say," Sarah said with a giggle, putting her hand on Hennessy's forearm.

"And who is your...charming...companion?" Lon Kirk asked, reaching out towards Sarah. She offered him her hand, and when he tried to turn it over to kiss, she tightened her grip around his fingers and forced him to just shake her hand instead. It was a power move that seemed to both impress him and intrigue him. She hadn't really been going for that.

"Sandra Killion. I'm Mike's girlfriend." She squeezed Hennessy's bicep with both hands and bumped his shoulder with hers, earning another grin from him.

"Lucky man," Kirk said, still smiling at her.

"Yes, I am."

Sarah felt eyes on her profile and she sent a quick glance over her shoulder. Chuck was just standing off to her left, his tray empty except for an empty highball glass, and he was awkwardly staring at what was happening at the table.

She caught his eye and gave him a look and he almost seemed to jump, as if realizing he was doing a bad job at his cover as a waiter, spinning first one way, then the other, and finally hastening back to the bar to do his job.

"I know the people of Taiwan are deeply appreciative of your generosity, Mr. Warwick."

Hennessy nodded once, a modest look on his face. "It's the least I could do. Really."

"May I ask, Mr. Kirk, how you came to focus your charitable efforts on Taiwan?" Sarah piped up, folding her hands on the table in front of her as Hennessy looked up at Casey and exchanged a nod. Casey began pushing the chips towards him.

"Well, I started doing business there. And I just...fell in love with the people." He stood and grabbed a small stack of chips, moving them to place his bet. "Their indefatigable nature." He nodded to Casey. "Three and nine, please." Casey nodded with a "yessir". "I said to myself, Lon...you can help."

He sent her a modest smile, an attempt at charm, and she smiled back warmly. "That's wonderful."

"And I always bet on red because it reminds me of all the pain and suffering in the world."

"Oh my Godddddd," Chuck groused in their ears. Hennessy twitched just subtly and she wondered if he was amused, or maybe she'd just imagined it.

Just as smoothly and easily as Kirk had done it, Hennessy put a few of his own chips down, on black she noticed.

"Miss Killion, you aren't betting?" Kirk asked.

"I'm superstitious," she murmured. "I meant it when I said I thought this table was unlucky."

"Ouch," he chuckled.

She giggled and shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Sandra has a rule. When a table doesn't feel right, she doesn't bet. I don't fall into her superstition, however." Casey spun the wheel and Hennessy won. It was kind of impressive, and he shot her a teasing grin that made his face light up, sharing a chuckle with Lon Kirk. "See?"

"All right, you get this one, I guess," Sarah teased her "boyfriend", pushing his arm. "I'm really not good at gambling at all. I hate games of chance," she explained to Kirk, draping a hand over Hennessy's shoulder and watching as Casey pushed more chips over to the Secret Service agent. "I like having control."

Hennessy chuckled. "Yes, you do. This is true."

"Warwick Industries," Kirk interrupted, shifting in his seat. "What is it you do there? I'm afraid I invited quite a few people tonight—for charity of course—and I haven't done my homework on everyone."

"Uh, technology. Mostly cyber security, though. Security in general, but that's more, uh...hush hush." Hennessy winked at Kirk.

"Security. That's interesting. So you do work protecting other company's assets, so to speak?"

Hennessy nodded. "We're the best at what we do. That's why I'm here, if I'm being honest with you."

"Security?" Kirk asked. "I don't remember requesting security be here."

"Oh, no, not you sir. I'm afraid I can't say who. It's part of the job—being discreet."

They placed their bets again and Sarah could see the wheels turning in Kirk's head. "Do you give estimates for your clients?"

"Would you like to schedule a meeting, Mr. Kirk? I typically send out one of my representatives, but I like you. This event, and you, have impressed me, I have to admit. I'd work with you personally. I'm good at what I do."

Kirk smirked, watching as Casey spun the roulette wheel again. And as Hennessy won again, this time a much bigger sum because he'd taken a bit of a risk, the other man outright laughed. "I can see that you are."

Sarah sent Hennessy a flirtatious look for the cover and he shrugged cockily, pulling in the chips Casey pushed towards him.

"I'm interested in a meeting."

They both turned to look at Kirk as he sat looking back at them, a thoughtful look on his face. "I want to know more about this Warwick Industries and what you might be able to do for me. I have a lot of assets that need protecting. And I need someone who...well...I wanna know I can trust you. No offense."

But then a man hurried to the table and bent down, whispering something in Kirk's ear. He sobered up a bit, then pushed up to his feet, winking pretty obviously in Sarah's direction. "If you'll both excuse me."

She smiled politely back at him and they both watched him move away.

"Did he seriously just wink at you in front of your date?" Chuck asked.

"Keep your eyes on Kirk, Chuck," she ordered, doing the same as he moved through the room determinedly. Damn it, that was bad timing. Agent Hennessy had been close to getting another meeting with Kirk and learning more about his business.

She saw Chuck chasing after Kirk then and she inwardly groaned. He completely ignored someone trying to reach for one of the martinis on his tray.

"What're you doing?" Hennessy asked through gritted teeth.

Chuck ignored him.

She pushed up to her feet, murmured something about the ladies room—she didn't even know what she'd said—and she followed Chuck.

"What—?"

"Just let it go, Hennessy," Casey grumbled.

She was ten feet behind Chuck when she spotted Lon Kirk talking to another man. They were leaning close, talking in low tones, and it set off warning bells. But they didn't look too friendly.

Chuck halted in his tracks and ducked his head then, nearly dropping his tray, and she had to almost lunge for it, sweeping it out of his hands skillfully and grabbing his arm. "Chuck? Hey...what is it?"

He sent her a look. He'd flashed. "I...I, uh, recognize him. The-The guy Kirk is talking to."

"Who is he?" Hennessy asked.

"Rashan Chen. He's the Taiwanese attache to the premier. He's dirtier'n all get out." Chuck paused, then turned to look at Sarah, his jaw clenched. "I've figured it out. This whole charity is a front to launder counterfeit money."

"Why don't I know about Rashan Chen?" Hennessy asked. "We don't have him in our files…"

"We do," Casey said. "And now you know why we keep this kid's memory for faces around."

Sarah let go of Chuck then and even stepped away, handing him the tray back and clearing her throat. She watched as Chen pointed his finger in Kirk's face, anger in his features. "Something is wrong...I don't like how this is looking," she said. "Hennessy, I think you need to go in. Get that meeting."

"On it," he said, and he was up from the table like lightning, smoothly cutting through the tables and following after Kirk as he broke away from Chen, a stormcloud look on his face.

Kirk stopped as Hennessy put a hand on his shoulder, and the two men began talking. Kirk's features seemed to settle a bit and the two men even chuckled together. Sarah quietly went back to Casey's roulette table as Chuck moved to the bar again, and she looked over her shoulder to see Hennessy walking towards them again.

He looked pretty satisfied, like a guy who'd just done his job really well, and she was certain he'd gotten himself a meeting. Good work, Agent… she thought to herself, smirking at him as they met gazes.

"Well, Sandra, have you had enough of the tables tonight? Why don't we cash out and head home?"

"Sounds like a good idea," she chirped, and Casey handed Hennessy a few very high-range chips and nodded politely to them as they hurried off.

}o{

"That was some slick work, Hennessy," Casey said once they were all back in his apartment. "Getting that meeting tomorrow."

"And on his yacht, too," Sarah added, lifting an impressed eyebrow.

Chuck eyed her carefully, then cleared his throat. "What'd you, uh, what'd you two talk about anyway? I mean, what'd you say to get him to meet with you?"

"Well, whatever Chen said to him hadn't exactly made him feel very safe, I assumed," Agent Hennessy said, crossing his arms. He'd taken off his tuxedo jacket and untied the bow tie, and now he had this sort of James Bond during his day off look to him that filled Chuck with envy. He knew he was immature, but...whatever. "So I kept poking at it with a stick, obviously without letting him know I'd seen that whole exchange, and he was pretty eager to have me meet him on his yacht tomorrow."

"Good," Sarah said. "Really well done."

Hennessy nodded, smiling a little. "Should we reconvene here before the meeting on Kirk's yacht, then? Or Agent Walker, I can just swing by and grab you so we can head to the docks."

Chuck did a bit of a double take. "Wait, S-Sarah's—Agent Walker's going to be on the yacht, too? Isn't, uh, isn't this supposed to be a business meeting?"

The other man sighed and looked at Sarah. "Kirk seemed pretty adamant the meeting is laidback. Pleasure with a side of business. He asked me to invite my girlfriend Sandra, but it felt a lot more like an order than him asking me. Guy's an asshole."

Sarah was a little stiff where she stood, Chuck noticed, but she nodded. And then she smiled at Hennessy. "That works. Gives you some back-up close by in case things go south."

"Yeah, well…" He clenched his jaw and climbed up to his feet. "I think it's unnecessary. We know where his head is at. And where his eyes were at." Chuck was inclined to agree with Agent Hennessy, but he felt something else there...he thought maybe he was seeing something in the Secret Service agent's annoyance. "But if you're okay with it, Agent Walker, I could use the back-up."

"If it gets us more information on this counterfeit operation, it'll be worth it," Sarah said with a nod. "You've got my address. Pick me up at noon."

Hennessy let out a huff and nodded, the professional mien back. Then he nodded at Chuck and Casey, grabbed his jacket, and swept out of the apartment.

Chuck dwelled on the suave Secret Service agent for a moment, and then he said goodnight to both of his handlers, walking across the courtyard to his own place. It was nothing, he thought to himself. He was projecting. He didn't like the insinuation in Kirk's inviting Sarah to come along with Hennessy for that meeting. It had been obvious the counterfeiter was attracted to her. Was he really going to try to make a play for another guy's girlfriend? It was gross.

He missed the pair of blue eyes peering out through Casey's living room blinds as he unlocked his apartment's door and stepped inside. They were looking at him closely, and it wasn't just to make sure he got back to his room safely.

}o{

Sarah knew Chuck was annoyed at being left behind for this part of the mission. He'd texted her asking if Lon Kirk's yacht needed a waiter. Maybe she and Hennessy could use some extra back-up. He'd tacked on a joke about not being able to fight, but he was capable of a scream high-pitched enough to create a tidal wave.

She'd just sent him a smiley face and told him to stay at the Buy More. They would handle it.

But she knew there was more to it than just feeling left out. She saw the way Chuck watched Agent Hennessy when he worked, the flash of awe in his face when Hennessy told them back at Casey's apartment last night that he'd procured the meeting. The Secret Service agent was really good at his job, and Chuck was noticing, but in a certain way that made Sarah...tentative. Because every so often last night, she'd felt Chuck's gaze settle on her, too. First Hennessy, then her.

She really needed Chuck to not do that right now.

If they could just get through this op, Hennessy would go back to his own work, leave LA, and everything would be back to normal. So she told herself to focus as she fixed the black cover-up she'd tied over her bikini bottoms, adjusting the sleeveless blouse she'd shrugged on to cover her bikini top.

Being able to wear a gown onto a yacht was really too much to hope for. Without anyone having to tell her, she knew what was expected of her during this meeting. She was back-up underneath everything else, but for the cover, she was a young woman whose powerful boyfriend got her onto a very rich man's yacht. And she was going to wear her bikini to tan and hopefully go swimming. That's what anyone normal would do in that situation.

She held onto Hennessy's arm as they walked up the gangplank to be welcomed by their host and she didn't miss the way Kirk's gaze lingered on her body specifically. It sent a shiver down her spine in the worst way, and she felt the agent beside her tense a little.

They had decided on the bare minimum of comms this time, considering she was just in a bikini and Hennessy wore a loose, unbuttoned shirt over swim trunks. Casey and a smattering of equal parts NSA and Secret Service lay in wait around the dock, surrounding the yacht under various covers, ready to charge in if needed. And they each had a way to listen to the conversation on board, but she and Hennessy couldn't hear them.

It made her feel a lot better about this. More than anything, though, she knew she needed to be here. Sending Agent Hennessy in alone was asking for trouble. The guy needed at least someone on the boat who wasn't Kirk or someone working for Kirk.

"Are we getting the business over with first?" Hennessy asked Kirk, draping an arm over her shoulders. "It's a nice day, I thought maybe I'd get some rays before they become harmful. You know what they say...sun between two and four is—"

"Sweetie, that's a load of baloney," Sarah interrupted, patting his chest affectionately.

Kirk just smirked. "We have time for business later." He turned his gaze to Sarah then. "Miss Killion...Can I call you Sandra?"

"Sure," she chirped. "We're all friends."

"Yes. We are." His smirk widened. "Make yourself at home on my yacht, please."

"Wow, thanks." She giggled. "I've never been on a yacht before. It's really nice."

"Simmer down on the exuberance, hun," Hennessy chuckled. "You're making me seem like a putz. I don't have a yacht yet, Lon, and now you've just made sure I never hear the end of it from this one until I do."

"You deserve a yacht, Sandra," Kirk said, giving her a significant look. "You deserve a lot of things." Then he must've realized how that sounded and reached out to nudge Hennessy's shoulder as though he was just teasing. Everyone was well aware that he hadn't been. It made her skin crawl.

Hennessy was definitely tense as they followed Lon Kirk out towards the bow of the yacht where a few lounge chairs were positioned at the perfect angle for the midday sun.

"Why don't you two settle in and I'll make sure we get some drinks out here?" Kirk offered, gesturing to the chairs. "Sandra, are you more of a martini girl? Or champagne?"

"Champagne," she said after giving it some thought. "My guy over here likes a dry martini, though." She really didn't know what Hennessy liked, but he nodded in approval either way, and Kirk disappeared.

She didn't feel entirely comfortable having a conversation with the other agent at full volume in spite of Kirk heading below to get the drinks. So she sat close to him on his own chair and leaned in. "We need to get him talking about his business soon, here. First of all, 'cause he's making me nervous with this affected kindness, and secondly, I forgot to put on sunblock."

Hennessy sniffed in amusement. "Rookie mistake, Agent Walker," he joked back. "I'm definitely getting this meeting back on track when he comes back with our drinks."

She nodded, but before she could move back to her chair beside his, Kirk came back up and grinned at them, spreading his hands out to the side.

"Well, the drinks are on their way." He gave the fact that she was sitting so close to her "boyfriend" a significant look, and the sparkle in his eye made her move back to her chair quickly.

"Thanks, Lon," Hennessy said. "So tell me a little bit about what you'd require from Warwick Industries. What sort of protection are you looking into?"

Kirk gave the other man a bit of a look. "You usually talk shop in front of, um…" He sat on a third chair facing the both of them, gesturing a little towards Sarah.

"Oh, not in-depth so much. I just thought we could talk some surface level business. Sandra knows when to excuse herself, right, hun?"

"I do," she drawled, lounging back against her chair and fixing her sunglasses. "I'm a practiced hand at it."

She heard Lon Kirk mutter, "I bet you are," and she bristled.

Before she could glare at him, Hennessy cut in, something hard in his tone. "Lon...Mr. Kirk… I take this business seriously. Now, if you'd prefer it, you and I can go down below to talk about the details. Sandra won't mind, right?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not at all," she said, waving them off.

"That won't be necessary. If you're all right with your girlfriend knowing, I'm all right with her being here, too," Kirk said.

"Nothing doing," Sarah responded, sitting up again. She had an idea suddenly, a pretty good one. "Anyway, I need to use the restroom. Do you have one on this yacht, Mr. Kirk?"

"Lon," he corrected. "And of course. I can show you." He started to get up but she thrust her hand out towards him.

"You can just tell me and I'll find it. Gives you boys time to talk shop."

"Okay." He shrugged, then gestured to the steps that had led him down below earlier. "Go down those stairs, once you get inside, there are more steps at the back. You'll find the restroom right next to the stairs."

"Got it. Have fun, boys."

But as she got up and left, she felt both Hennessy's and Kirk's eyes on her. For very different reasons, she knew.

She gracefully made her way down and then peeked into the little cabin. It was empty, comfortable couches pushed against either wall, and as she traversed the cabin, she found the steps he was talking about.

Voices were coming up from the belly of the yacht, and she knew that was where the money printing had been going on before. She didn't dare go down there now. Even if she tried to pretend she'd just misunderstood Kirk's directions, it would be way too suspicious. She needed to give Agent Hennessy room to work his magic.

"Sandra."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Kirk was walking towards her, and he followed her gaze to glance behind him, as if making sure her boyfriend wasn't there. Oh, crap.

"You know, I didn't want to say this in front of Michael; he seems pretty focused on his business..."

"He is," she interrupted.

"Yes. Uh, well...I just wanted to extend an invitation to you. Since your boyfriend doesn't have a yacht for you to use, you're always free to use mine." He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Anytime. Uh, granted, I'd prefer it to be when I'm also here."

Wow. This guy was a bastard. But she knew Hennessy hadn't had the time to get anything out of him yet and she couldn't afford to slam her fist into his face until he did. So she just smiled a little. "Nice of you to make the offer. But…"

"Hey, Lon, why don't we go back up on deck and talk business?"

Hennessy's voice broke through the unsettling quiet in the cabin and she tilted to the side to watch as he closed the distance, having obviously followed Kirk down below. She wondered if Kirk had excused himself to check on the drinks or something half-assed like that. As if Michael Warwick was some kind of trusting dullard.

"Oh, sure sure. I just wanted to be a good host," Kirk said smoothly, stepping back and holding his hands out in surrender.

"I think it'd be better if we stick to talking about how best you can protect what's yours," Hennessy said, his jaw twitching in annoyance. "You should know I'm pretty good about protecting what's mine, too."

Kirk chuckled and shook his head. "You drive a hard bargain, Mike. But I like you. Let's get downstairs and we can toast with champagne—martini for you—while we actually talk business."

Hennessy walked around Kirk and wrapped an arm around Sarah possessively. "We can do that. Sure. But I'm gonna give it to you straight. You treat my girlfriend with respect. I'm not okay with you crossing lines with her."

"Mike...sweetie, it's oka—"

"No, it isn't," he interrupted. "Either you agree to quit these shenanigans with Sandra, or the two of us walk off this yacht right now. Business over."

Sarah gaped a little at her mission partner and fake boyfriend. This had taken a turn she hadn't really been prepared for.

But before she—or anyone else for that matter—could say anything, she heard yelling up on deck. "Federal agents! Nobody move!"

She and Hennessy shared confused looks as Kirk turned to try to catch a glance at whatever was going on.

"Get down!" an agent barked.

Kirk cleared his throat and held up a finger. "Excuse me…" And then he rushed off, heading back up on deck.

As if of one mind, they both followed, Hennessy letting her take lead, and as they slowed at the doorway, Sarah saw Casey standing over a crate with Taiwanese symbols on it.

"Who are you people?" Kirk demanded, walking towards Casey who was the obvious leader of the charge.

"NSA," Casey said, pulling his badge out and flashing it. "Stay right there. Let us do our job."

"Your job? Do you have any idea who I am?"

What in the hell was Casey doing? What had happened? She and Hennessy'd had this in hand. Well, sort of. Hennessy really hadn't taken well to Kirk being a douchebag.

"Open it," Casey said to one of his men.

"That crate is a bonded humanitarian shipment certified by the United Nations," Kirk said forcefully, like a man who was not used to being busted, questioned, or having to face repercussions. Casey must have gotten some sort of order from the higher-ups to board the yacht and confiscate the crate.

These hadn't been here when she and Hennessy were above deck, which meant they'd been brought on while they were below. Suspicious…

"It's illegal for any of you to open these," Kirk continued.

"Oh, I can make some phone calls. Hope you don't mind waiting," Casey snarked.

"Oh, I do. So we won't." Kirk grabbed the crowbar from Casey's agent and pried the lid off of the crate with no small amount of satisfaction. That was a bad sign. And by the confused look on Casey's face, she knew he was on the same page she was. Shit, what had they done? How'd they screw this up? Who'd given Casey the order?

"Medical supples," the counterfeiter announced to the whole boat, gesturing to the crate. "For the earthquake victims of Taiwan. I wanted to deliver it myself. We leave tomorrow."

Casey was pawing through the contents of the crate, a pissed off look on his face. Shit, they were just medical supplies. She turned and exchanged a worried look with Hennessy. He looked just as pissed as Casey. All of this had probably just wrecked his whole investigation.

}o{

"What the hell happened?" Sarah asked once she and Hennessy managed to get away from the yacht and met up with Casey. With the tension of the feds storming Kirk's yacht and everything else, it was pretty clear the meeting was over.

He was walking towards them on the sidewalk, the other agents below dealing with the mess of making apologies to Lon Kirk.

"I'd like to know, too," Hennessy snapped. "Who gave the order to move in? 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't me."

"Hey, loverboy. You weren't exactly subtle with the wounded pride schtick when Kirk went after your girlfriend," Casey groused.

Hennessy shrugged and shook his head. "Don't push this on me. I had him exactly where I wanted him. He's a businessman. He's genuinely interested in Warwick Industries. And Agent Walker wasn't there to be a bargaining chip," he added calmly. "I don't take kindly to my fellow agents being disrespected or fed to the wolves like that. It's disrespectful, and considering all I'm sure she's done for her country, I wasn't going to stand there and let her take it. I. Had. It. Under. Control."

Sarah widened her eyes. She'd known inherently that there hadn't been any weird jealousy or overprotectiveness in the way he'd acted because he'd been such a professional and so focused on the mission the last few days. But she had been confused. She wasn't confused anymore. This guy was the real deal. He was a good agent, and a good partner. She could hug him, but he probably wouldn't appreciate it. So she just exchanged a look with Casey instead.

"Look, I got the order," Casey said, and she knew he was lying. Because he gave her a subtle nod. Something else was going on here.

"Fuck that order," Hennessy growled. "This is going to be impossible to fix now. I'll be in contact with you soon. I've got some phone calls to make." And he stormed off in a cloud of frustration.

Sarah stepped up to Casey and grabbed his sleeve. "What didn't you tell Agent Hennessy?"

"We stormed the yacht because Chuck flashed. He told me he was sure something was in those crates."

"What?" she snapped.

"The idiot couldn't just stay at the Buy More like a good boy. He followed us here and made me give him an earpiece. Right after Hennessy went off at Kirk, Chuck flashed on the crates they were bringing onboard and said they had counterfeit plates in 'em. Said they were falsely marked as aid medicine."

"It was filled with aid medicine."

"Yeah, I didn't know that until Kirk opened it. I asked the dumbass, like, five times if he was sure. He said he was sure. He flashed."

Sarah clenched her jaw. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. She was furious. "You said he flashed after Hennessy went off at Kirk to protect my honor or whatever?"

"Yep." Casey narrowed his eyes then. "Why?"

She didn't want to get Casey involved in this. Instead of telling him her suspicions, she just shook her head. "I don't know. He's been wrong before, but this is worse than usual. We're in trouble."

"Yeah, and I need to find a way to talk around it so Hennessy doesn't know I made the order based on a faulty Intersect flash. Maybe I can just murder that God damn nerd."

Sarah shook her head. Those thoughtful looks, the way he'd glance between her and Hennessy, and the closeness she'd had to affect with the Secret Service agent for the mission...Casey said he'd taken an earpiece, which meant he'd heard Hennessy get possessive and he'd probably read into it. Then he'd done the first thing he could think of to put a stop to the whole thing.

She stormed off to Casey's car. Casey couldn't murder Chuck, because she was going to make sure she got to him first.

}o{

Chuck checked his phone again. Nobody had said a single damn thing to him since this afternoon when he'd flashed on the crates and Casey immediately forced him to go home. For once he'd listened to him, he'd gotten in his Herder, and he'd come here, locking himself up in his apartment alone. They weren't kidding about Lon Kirk being dangerous and Chuck wasn't messing around with the potential of being seen by the guy.

Casey assured him they'd get the plates and get Kirk.

But now he hadn't even texted him to tell him what went down. And Sarah hadn't called or texted either. He got one text from Morgan asking why he'd left work early because Big Mike was looking for him. He'd made something up and sat on the end of his bed, just wondering...was Lon Kirk in custody now? Was his counterfeit operation busted? Was Agent Hennessy happy with the results?

Were the three of them talking to Graham and Beckman to debrief without him for some reason? It rankled with him to think of it. Yeah, sure. The Secret Service agent was a really good agent. He was impressive, a professional, extremely good at his job. He was everything an agent should be. And he frowned at that thought. He didn't begrudge the guy at all for it, but his presence provided a stark contrast to Chuck's novice status, his clumsiness, his lack of professionalism… He could go on.

And because he'd been alone long enough today, his mind had run rampant with foolish scenarios. Like Agent Hennessy having the Intersect instead of him. Someone with skill sets outside of fixing computers, someone who was experienced with spy work, someone with a solid moral compass...a mature professional. He started thinking about how much better off Casey and Sarah would be if they were working with Hennessy full-time instead of with him. Casey wouldn't be calling Hennessy a moron all the time. Sarah wouldn't be having to coddle him. Hennessy wouldn't show up at Sarah's door having to apologize for fucking up in some way or another every couple of days.

He'd just barely chastised himself enough for those self-pitying thoughts to be back in a better head space when there was a quick rapping on the apartment door. He frowned a little, then realized it was probably Casey to give him an update or bring him over to his apartment where Sarah and Hennessy waited.

Rushing to the door, he opened it, and was surprised when Sarah pushed in without waiting for him to even say anything. She looked around the room. "Ellie or Awesome home?"

He blinked. "Uh...no." He shut the door behind her. He could see in how tense her shoulders were that something was wrong. She hadn't smiled or even said hello. And he thought maybe there was some trouble. And oh God, Lon Kirk knew he was the Intersect. He had to go into deep hiding or something.

But then Sarah spun on her heel. "What the hell happened today?" she asked in a calm, collected voice. But there was still a cutting thread of anger and accusation there too.

"Uhhhh...what-what d'you mean?"

"At the docks. What was that?"

"Wait, you might need to explain some things. Casey shoved me back into my Herder and made me go home before he stormed the yacht with his spy friends. I've been sitting here all day wondering what was going on." He frowned. "Did something go wrong?"

Sarah furrowed her brow. And then she clenched her jaw and shifted her weight. "Yeah, I'd say so. Your so-called flash on that crate? After Casey 'stormed the yacht' with his 'spy friends' to get a look inside that crate, they found nothing but medical supplies. Not counterfeit plates, Chuck. Just...medical supplies. Lon Kirk is a powerful man. We're all in some pretty deep shit now."

His jaw dropped. "What? ...What? Wait. Why did I flash on that crate if it was just medical supplies? That doesn't make sense. There were plates in there. The-The Intersect—"

"That was pretty convenient timing, don't you think?"

"What?"

"Your supposed flash, Chuck."

"Supposed? What's that mean?" He narrowed his eyes.

"It means that you flashed right after you took the earpiece from Casey and heard Agent Hennessy sticking up for me. And after the last few days of Hennessy and I portraying a couple for this mission…"

"What?!" he snapped. "Are you implying I faked a flash? That I'm a flash-faker?"

"If the shoe fits!"

"Oh, this is really rich. Wow. Thanks for that vote of confidence, Sarah."

"We need to talk about the fact that you continue to let your emotions get in the way, and today was really bad. You not only jeopardized our safety with your behavior, but Agent Hennessy's entire mission that brought him to LA in the first place is on really thin ice."

"I can't believe you think I pretended to flash on that crate because of...Agent Hennessy calling Lon Kirk out for being a douchebag?"

"Oh, come on, Chuck. What am I supposed to think, huh? You don't think I saw the way you were staring at Agent Hennessy and I when we were playing a couple at the roulette table last night for Lon Kirk's benefit? You spilled a drink on someone's dress."

"I'm not good at balancing those stupid tray things on my hand, Sarah! It was lopsided!" He felt ridiculous even as he said it. But he straightened his spine anyway. This was so unfair.

"You couldn't handle seeing me get close to another man for a cover, Chuck! And then the way you wanted to be a part of today's op, wanting to be a waiter on Kirk's yacht. Why, so you could be around and make sure Agent Hennessy and I didn't—I don't even know what. But what really takes the cake is that you raced to the docks anyway, and once you managed to finagle an earpiece, when Hennessy put his foot down with Kirk to be a good partner and show me some respect, you figured it was for a romantic reason and put a stop to everything, the whole mission. I mean, that's really something else, Chuck. And to use the Intersect as an excuse?"

Chuck let out a bitter laugh in disbelief. "You seriously think I blew the op on purpose because I-I was jealous. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds, Sarah? I mean, are you listening to yourself right now?" He pointed to his temple. "You think I know how this thing works? I don't! I don't get to control when I flash; it just happens! And then I have to figure out what it all means and relay that to Casey, or you. Is it always right? I guess not. It wasn't right today, and I'm sorry about that, but I did not fake it. You think you and Hennessy are the only ones capable of being professional…" he muttered bitterly under his breath.

"See? And there it is. Agent Hennessy is good at his job, and I know you noticed."

"Yeah, I did! So? What of it? I'm not a child, Sarah! I don't go faking flashes to get what I want."

"I know that!" she snapped. "But maybe this...this stuff with the...the thing that happened...maybe it's made things worse. You can't even handle my calling another man 'sweetie' for a mission without blowing everything. And for the record, there was nothing romantic there, even if you assumed there was. And I know you did. I saw it on your face. I just didn't think you'd pull this shit."

"I didn't pull any shit, Sarah! I flashed and then I told Casey about the flash! The flash was wrong, okay, and it had bad info. I'll even take the blame for it. But I will not let you insinuate I faked it to get you away from Agent Secret Service." He pointed in her face. "And how dare you try to say I let me emotions get in the way? I've been very controlled throughout this whole thing."

"Don't try to deny that things have been...different...since the incident, Chuck." The way her blue eyes darted to the side in discomfort told him everything he needed to know.

"Really, Sarah?" he asked a bit sarcastically. "Really? And what incident are you referring to, if I may ask? Which one? Could it be the incident where you grabbed me and kissed me right before a bomb was supposed to go off, ending our lives? Is it that one? Where you kissed me right before Bryce showed up alive again and threw everything out of whack?"

"Stop saying kiss! It happened, okay?" she barked. "And I'll admit it. Gladly."

"Gladly? Is this you being glad?" he snarked. "What are you so afraid of? You afraid I'm gonna see how rattled you've been since it happened? You afraid I'm gonna read into that? You think I've been sitting here watching you and Agent Hennessy play boyfriend-girlfriend in absolute agony like a fifteen year old hormonal teenager with a crush, but you wanna know what I think, Agent Walker?"

"No, I really don't."

"Too bad! I think you're just projecting."

"Projecting?" She scoffed. "Oh God."

"Yeah! That's right! Projecting. Ever since we kissed in that warehouse, you've been on edge. I'm not even gonna try to assume where your head is at, but playing couple with another agent had you watching me for a reaction. And while I was...admittedly a little self-pitying and maybe even envious (I'm not proud of it), I was also stuffing that down inside and letting you and Hennessy work because...because fuck Lon Kirk, that's why. Fuck his fake money and his fake charity. Fuck that guy. I was actually being professional for once, and still you smack me with this fake-flashing accusation because maybe...just maybe, Sarah Walker, that's how you wanted me to act."

He had regrets. Right as the words came out of his mouth. He'd meant it, though. He really had meant it. She was on edge since the kiss. He'd seen it. Like she was confused, pulling back, keeping a semblance of distance, unsure, struggling with the implications, not knowing how to handle it. And he understood it. But her accusation stung. Whether or not her job meant she was a mess at dealing with this sort of thing, he wasn't letting her take it out on him.

And still, he regretted his words as she stared at him, wide-eyed, her mouth falling open.

"Wow. Yeah, Chuck. You got me. I really wanted you to blow an entire op, sink Hennessy's investigation, and help Lon Kirk continue to spread his counterfeit money all over the world under the guise of a charity. That's exactly what I wanted. Just so I can know you care about me. Yep! I've been in the CIA all these years to get to this moment and be a complete jack-ass." She huffed. "Just admit you screwed up."

"I'm not admitting to anything I didn't do! The Intersect screwed up. You can even say I screwed up, sure. But I didn't do it on purpose! And I definitely didn't do it because that kiss that night gave me some sense of...I dunno, like you belong to me or something. Because that's what you're hinting at."

"Chuck, what's done is done. The kiss happened. It's over. Can we please stop talking about it?"

"You'd really love that, I know. So I'll drop it. But I have one question for you. One last question. Just a little one."

"Chuck—"

But he wasn't letting her interrupt him this time. He needed to know. "Did you kiss me that night because you thought you were gonna die and mine were the most convenient lips around, or was it actually about me?"

She was silent, just staring at him. And then he watched the mask slip over her features, and he knew it was done. Once she brought out the mask, that was it. He knew her too well. "You know damn well I'm not answering that question, Chuck. Because I think you already know the answer. But I can't pretend I'm not wondering if the whole thing wasn't just...a huge mistake."

He felt like he'd just been socked in the gut. "You really believe that?"

She bounced a little on the balls of her feet, twisting her lips to the side, not meeting his gaze. And then she pushed past him, striding towards the door. "We're not done here. You still have a lot to answer for."

"If we're not done, why are you walking away?" he barked after her, but she'd already slammed the door behind her.

Chuck shut his eyes tightly and let out a long sigh. That was bad. That was the worst. And he needed a stiff drink. Or to bash his head through a wall. Possibly both. Fuck.

}o{

Sarah and Casey were in his apartment waiting for the debriefing. The two decided it was best if Chuck wasn't present, maybe they figure out some way this wouldn't come across as a colossal clusterfuck. They didn't think they could, but they had to try. Beckman and Graham had interesting looks on their faces. Graham looked irritated, Beckman puzzled. "What happened, Agents Walker and Casey?" Beckman asked.

"Chuck flashed, General," Casey explained. "Our decision to raid the boat was based on the information we received from the Intersect."

"Except Chuck was wrong this time," Beckman replied.

Sarah had to do something, since it was partially her fault they were in this mess anyway. Hell, Casey probably thought it was all her fault. "We think Kirk must have managed to hide the plates somehow."

"Where?" Graham asked, irritation in his voice.

"We don't know," Casey admitted.

"So, you moved in anyway?" Graham pressed.

Beckman shot Graham a dirty look. She turned to Sarah. "Is there something that might have caused Chuck to think those plates were on Kirk's boat? Anything that might have caused his flash?"

"Not that we're aware of," Sarah lied. She knew damn well what had caused that flash.

"I don't want the two of you anywhere near Kirk from now on, it isn't safe for either of you," Beckman said.

"Both of us?" Sarah asked. She needed to save this op. "But he doesn't suspect me."

"We don't know that, and we can't risk it," Beckman explained.

"So until further notice, consider yourselves benched." Graham was glaring and Beckman turned toward him with a look. She turned back to Sarah.

"Chuck has had trouble with emotions in the past affecting the Intersect, maybe you should talk to him, Sarah. See if everything is okay. That doesn't seem to be in Major Casey's skill set." She cut off the feed with a bit of a smirk.

Casey rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His heavy sigh had something extra in it. Oh, no. "Well, that was a bang-up job I did, Walker." He shifted his weight and turned to her. "All right, I'm gonna just come clean. I've been giving the moron a ton of shit the past few days."

Everything clicked and she sighed deeply. She knew Casey's immature sense of humor. So she asked, "How many Hennessy/Walker alcohol mixing jokes have you made?"

"Not as many as I wished," he admitted. He looked at her and sighed. "You know...I, uh...I heard earlier."

"Oh, God," Sarah said, burying her head in her hands.

"He...he has a point." Sarah snapped her head up in disbelief. "He wasn't the one who hid for three days." She stared daggers at him. "He wasn't the one who left her date and ran after a waiter." Sarah stared at him, this time in shock. "He wasn't the one who initiated that kiss."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, and when she got her voice back, she nearly didn't recognize the sound coming out of her mouth. "Do you ever just want to have a normal life? Have a family? Children?"

Casey nodded. "The choice we made to protect something bigger than ourselves is the right choice, hard as that is to remember sometimes." He stopped then, a far-off look on his face, and she found herself paying closer attention. "Maybe it doesn't mean you can't have both."

Sarah stared at him, his words landing hard in her gut. She swallowed. "I'll talk to Chuck. And if I can't fix this, then I'm going to ask for a reassignment."

"Walker, that won't fix anything, and we both know that. Just do what you can to fix it, okay?" Sarah couldn't verbalize her answer. All she could do is nod. "Also, I erased the earlier tapes." Sarah barked out a laugh. How could one simultaneously love and hate an assignment at the same time? She didn't know how, but she did.


A/N: Are we in trouble? I feel like we're going to be in big trouble, DC. We're going to have to brace ourselves for these incoming reviews, brother.

Please review, though! Thanks!

-SC and DC