A/N 10/17/12 – Yeah, go ahead and say it. "You're Late!" Haha. My humble apologies. I have way too many balls in the air right now – the number of writing projects has grown to four. Add a minor case of drama induced writers block to that mix and it spells delay.

Thanks again to my beta readers, somedeepmystery, BDaddyDL, and my lovely wife, for letting me bounce ideas off them and finding the flaws without removing my style.

I don't own Chuck

Sarah Versus the Farm

Chapter 5 – Orders are Orders

After a split second of complete surprise Sarah leaned over and whispered into Chuck's ear, "I may have to aim my gun at you, so don't freak out."

Chuck's eyes went wide. "Why?"

Sarah stood and placed some distance between them as a dark, very large, figure stepped out of the shadows cast by the moon on the trees. John Casey walked casually into the firelight dressed in black tactical garb apparently trying to wipe something from his eye.

"It's late, I'm tired. Let's cut the crap and give him to me now. He belongs to the NSA," said the agent laconically as he stared Sarah down, his face hard and unrelenting.

To Chucks shocking dismay, Sarah pulled a .380 caliber Colt Mustang pistol from the inside of her leather jacket and aimed it at him. "The CIA gets him first! You come any closer and I shoot."

Chuck stared at the end of the barrel of the small auto pistol pointed at him, desperately trying to control his breathing as John Casey swiftly drew a Sig Sauer P229 from his holster and activated the Crimson Trace laser sight, pointing it at Sarah's chest.

"Sarah?" Chuck stammered, "I'm freakin' out a bit here…" He then blinked several times rapidly and shook his head drawing a curious look from the NSA agent.

"You shoot him, I shoot you, I leave both of your bodies here and go out for a late snack. I'm thinkin' maybe pancakes," said the big scary NSA agent to Sarah, entirely too casually.

Chuck took several steps to the side attempting to move out of the firelight.

"Chuck, stop," Sarah shouted over his raging heartbeat as Casey's gun wavered toward him.

Casey's eyes narrowed as he took aim once again at Sarah. "You expect me to believe you're going to shoot your new boy toy, Agent Walker? Go ahead, finish half my work, both of you are expendable since you couldn't do your own job." The corners of the Major's mouth turned up into a very subtle and thin smile

"So you are here to kill me," said Chuck incredulously, as his gaze shifted to Sarah, and he looked at her questioningly with an expression of complete betrayal.

Sarah looked back at him like the world had just fallen away from underneath her. "No…it's not like that, Chu-…it's complicat-"

"Yeah, sure it is," Chuck said, crestfallen, "My own government put out an illegal hit on me. What's complicated about that? This is exactly why Ellie and I wanted nothing to do with your life of lies and deceit. So, just get it over with, why don't you."

Sarah started to lower her gun as her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped.

"If you say so numbnuts, the CIA skirt gets it first," said Casey taking aim once again at Sarah. He saw the lanky young man's hand come quickly from behind his back and he tried to swing his gun to bear on him, a look of complete surprise on his face when he saw a flash of metal.

The staccato sound of two rapid pistol shots pierced the night and John Casey flew back from the impact of two heavy .45 caliber bullets striking him in the chest. He landed flat on his back with a thud and a cloud of dust. Sarah stood staring agape for long seconds at Chuck who was holding a Kimber 1911 semi-auto pistol in a modified Weaver stance. Where did he get that?! Chuck just stood there with a look of complete shock on his face.

Finally coming to her senses when she saw the big NSA agent gasp for breath and starting to stir, Sarah ran over to John Casey and pistol-whipped him, knocking him unconscious with a fierce blow to the jaw. She stood up and gawked for a second at two very deformed large caliber bullets embedded in the man's bulletproof vest right over his sternum. She looked up to see Chuck now staring at her in astonishment, the gun still up and pointing in her direction.

"Chuck! What were you thinking? You could have killed him!"

"He was going to shoot you, Sarah. I…I couldn't let him do that." Chuck was visibly starting to shake. "I…flashed on his vest. I knew it would stop the bullets. He didn't give me a choice..."

"What if you'd missed the vest, Chuck, what then?" Sarah was still trying to come to grips with what had just happened. Her alarm faded a bit when Chuck lowered the gun to his side and dropped it in the dirt at his feet, a look of sad resignation painted on his face. He was testing her. She could feel it, and she returned her pistol to the hidden holster sewn into the lining of her jacket below her left breast, avoiding his eyes as she did it.

"Yeah…I know…I might have missed…I don't think he would have." Chuck was vibrating like a tuning fork. After a few seconds he turned and walked into the cabin and closed the door.

Sarah stood there staring at the closed door for a moment before shaking her head and searching the NSA agent. She pulled a pair of handcuffs from a pocket on the back of his vest and cuffed him before searching him more thoroughly. Then she dragged him over by the fire, and leaned him up against one of the log benches. After staring at the cabin door for a couple of minutes she got up and walked over to Stephen's Mistress and found the airplane's tiedown kit. Using one of the ropes from the kit she tied the Major's feet together and pulled the rope through the handcuff chain securing him in a tight, seated hogtie, around the heavy log bench.

Walking slowly up to the cabin door Sarah turned her ear toward it, trying to listen for activity inside. She then tried to open the door by the rope on the wooden cross bolt, but it wouldn't budge. A knock on the door was met with silence. "Chuck?" After a dark moment passed, her head fell and her breath came out with a rush. "Chuck? Open the door, Chuck, please let me in." Her head fell against the door with a soft thunk. "I'm sorry, Chuck. Please believe me, I never wanted this to happen. Please, Chuck, open the door." Once again She was answered with dead silence.

"Chuck… dammit..." Sarah turned with her back to the door and slid to the ground sitting with her knees drawn to her chest.

"Well, I stand corrected. I guess he wasn't your boy toy, after all."

Sarah glared at the NSA agent tied up by the fire, fighting back the urge to get up and pistol-whip him again. After a few seconds she had her breathing back under control. "How did you find us? My watch?" she asked with a sigh.

"Yep. It was fairly easy to get another ride and track you down," Casey answered, matter-of-factly. "Did you really think you could stay off grid?"

"No." Sarah got up and walked over to sit on one of the benches. "I was trying to buy us some time, so I could figure out how involved he really was in all this."

"So, he was workin' with Bryce."

"No. He opened a damned email Bryce sent him," Sarah snarled back, looking at the Major askance. "He hasn't heard from Bryce in years. Bryce transferred the Intersect program and the database to Chuck's web server. Chuck saw it."

"So? Then we get the data back and make the moron crop duster pilot sign a four-foot tall stack of paperwork. End of story."

"Is that really the end of it? Were you really sent to kill him?"

"I'm a Special Activities Division officer; a clean up specialist. I report directly to the DD of the NSA; what do you think? Beckman wants all of this to disappear like it never happened. After I'm done here I'm supposed to find and eliminate your old boyfriend too."

Sarah bristled at the mention of her 'old boyfriend'. He could only have been talking about Bryce. But it surprised her that this man, and obviously others too, considered Bryce and her romantically linked in some way. "I only worked with Bryce, that's it. I couldn't even call him a partner."

"Uh, huh. Boyfriend or not, the S.O.B. has gone rogue, and it's my job to find him. So you better get the hell out of the way."

"Look. You better have a talk with the General. DD Graham is trying to contact your boss to call you off. The whole scenario has changed. It doesn't appear that Larkin went rogue now, and the data has been lost... or misplaced."

"What do you mean? Lost or misplaced? Stop playin' games, Walker. Which is it? And what proof do you have that Larkin isn't rogue?" asked Casey, as his eyes narrowed and he furrowed his brow. "And how do you figure telling me this is going to help your pilot friend in there?" he asked shaking his head toward the door.

"The data has been misplaced because Chuck inadvertently downloaded it into himself. Larkin set it up so once he downloaded it the database would be erased." It sounded too fantastic even as Sarah heard herself say it. "So the original database is gone."

"Wait a minute. You're tellin' me all of our secrets are now in his head?"

"Yes. Chuck is the computer."

"I don't believe it," said the Major with a scowl.

"Well it's true, so eliminating Chuck would probably be counterproductive now. He's useless to anyone dead."

"That's exactly the point," Casey said as easily as if was talking about the weather. "It would be extremely counterproductive if he fell into the wrong hands, if what you say is true."

Sarah's gaze fell to the ground. She couldn't deny the truth of that statement, but it didn't make the solution Casey was suggesting right... not by a long shot. Unfortunately, staying silent was the worst thing she could have done.

"Counterproductive, huh?" Sarah and Casey's heads whipped instantly around to face the voice from the darkness. "I can't believe how casually you two talk about the life of another U.S. citizen. My grandfather warned me about tools like you…but I was too naïve to believe him... that the people who were supposed to protect us could be that cynical and jaded. That's right, he called operatives like you tools. OSS Gramps was way ahead of his time," said the clearly distraught voice from the shadows. "And it appears I owe him a huge apology."

Sarah's face went white. Oh, my God! He heard all of that! As she peered into the dark around them she could barely make out his features as he hunched in the shadow of a tree about thirty feet from them. Chuck stood up and walked into the light, shaking his head, looking for all the world like someone had just pulled the rug out from under his feet; and Sarah knew that someone was her. And she lost her voice. What have I done?

"You people really suck," Chuck said as he walked by. He picked up his pistol out of the dirt and slipped it into a Yaqui Slide on his belt under his shirt, tucking the barrel into his rear jeans pocket, before he headed back into the darkness behind the cabin. "And you have the gall to talk about me like I'm just some kind of a tool because of what Bryce did to me. All of you might as well be robots."

"Chuck," Sarah heard herself croak.

He turned around and faced her, just a silhouette in the shadows. "Stow it, Sarah. I opened the cabin door for you and there's a sleeping bag on one of the bunks. That jerk can stay out here tonight; he'll never be welcome under my roof. I'm beginning to wish I'd missed his vest a little high right now." Chuck disappeared into the night leaving the two government operatives looking at each other like they both knew a civilian had outdone them at their own game.

Sarah, her mouth drawn into a grim line, slowly rose from the bench, and walked toward the cabin.

"Walker, don't you leave me here, or I'll-"

Sarah spun around on the Major. "Or you'll what?" she asked him with venom in her voice, "You already almost shot me. If it hadn't have been for Chuck…" Her voice trailed off at the sudden realization that Chuck had probably saved her life. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Major Casey."

-II-

The cabin was empty. It didn't surprise her. After what had happened and been said around the campfire, she wondered if what little trust he had left in her had been lost forever. She walked over to the bunk on which Chuck had laid out a sleeping bag for her and sat on the edge of it. Her head fell into her hands and she shook. She wanted to cry but the tears just wouldn't come. Am I really a robot? Have I allowed myself to slip that far from who I once was? What are you going to do now Sarah Walker? When she asked herself the question she practically spit out the cover name like an expletive in her mind.

Yet, here she was, still welcome under his roof, and she wondered why. Thinking back about what she had seen Chuck do tonight she wondered why either she or John Casey were even alive right now. Where did Chuck learn to shoot like that? Of course, all Naval Cadet's received firearms and hand-to-hand combat training, but Chuck exhibited a skill with a handgun that seemed to go well beyond that. She shook her head at the memory of how close the bullets were grouped in Casey's vest, and a small smile managed to make its way onto her face when she thought about how much it must hurt. It wouldn't surprise her if the Major had a cracked rib or two. That had to hurt even for a man like John Casey. Chuck could have easily killed him, but he didn't. Sarah wondered if he'd really be able to defend himself with deadly force if he had to. Chuck isn't a killer. It isn't in him. Yet, he shot John Casey to protect me. Why?

There was only one logical conclusion when the events of the evening were taken at face value. After all the ghastly things that had happened in the last few hours, after all she had done and said to break his trust; he obviously still felt something for her. The thought warmed her despite the overshadowing despair that was blanketing her. It didn't appear he was coming back, and it made her wonder where he had gone when he walked off into the night. He was giving both of them some space to cool off, and to process what was happening. Maybe there was some hope left, after all. That thought made her heart turn over in her chest. You have to confront this. You can't ignore it.

Sarah pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed her boss. Langston wasn't going to be happy being called at three-thirty in the morning, but it couldn't wait. "Sir, I'm sorry if I woke you, but John Casey paid us a visit."

On the other end of the call Langston Graham swung his feet out of the bed and into a pair of slippers before he strode from the room under his wife's watchful eye. "It's okay, Agent Walker, are you and the asset alright?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Bartowski and I are fine; and so is the Major. But Casey fully intended to kill both Chuck and me." Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground by using Chuck's first name. "I can't take much credit for any of us being alive, sir, Chuck diffused the situation."

"What?" asked the Deputy Director as he sat at his desk in his den, "How did he do that?"

"It's a long story sir, but apparently Casey didn't receive any 'knock off' orders from General Beckman. It sounds like he was ordered by the General to sterilize the whole operation."

Graham stared at a picture hanging on his wall. It was a picture of Sarah and his wife and him at a backyard party at their home taken only the summer before. His wife considered Sarah family; the daughter she never had. Sarah was his best field officer and he trusted her judgment unwaveringly. He knew he always had her trust and loyalty. But he had to ask himself if he'd lost some of that trust when he thought about the contingency orders he had given her before sending her to California on this assignment. "Sarah, I spoke with the General right after you called me earlier this evening. She assured me that Major Casey would be called off immediately and retasked to assist you. Where is the Major now?"

"I have him in custody, sir. I don't trust him walking around free right now. Sir, there is new information about Charles Bartowski, and I don't know how it slipped through the cracks. Somehow some very important details about him never made it into his briefing file."

"What are you getting at, Agent Walker?"

"I'll explain sir, but first I need to request some satellite tasking on the area where we're located."

-III-

He sat bundled in a bivouac bag with his back to a rock. The view was spectacular from this mountain peak as he watched the orange ball of the sun start to appear over the eastern edge of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The whole mountain range was cast in a warm glow contrasted by the deep blue and purple high altitude sky giving way to daylight.

Sarah climbed cautiously up to him and stood next to Chuck on the narrow rocky ledge, the cool morning breeze blowing her blonde hair. "How long have you been here?" he asked staring straight ahead.

"Most of the night," she answered quietly, as she sat next to him with her arms huddled around her.

"There's nowhere I can run, is there?"

"Not from us." Sarah gazed into his horribly conflicted eyes for a few seconds, and felt that tightness in her chest that was so foreign to her as she started to shiver a bit in the cold breeze. "Talk to me, Chuck."

Chuck opened the side of the fleece lined bag offering her some of its warmth, which she gladly accepted, wrapping herself in, and snuggling next to him.

"Yesterday I was flying an ag plane, satisfied and contented with where I was in my life in spite of all the crap and heartache that I've tried to put behind me. Now I've been sucked into a world I didn't want any part of because of some computer program from a science fiction story stuck into my head… and I can't figure out why Bryce did this, why he chose me." He looked at her, and the hardness in his eyes felt like a slap to the face compelling her to turn away from them. "What are you going do with me? What happens now?" he asked.

"For now, you go back to your own life," Sarah forced herself to meet his penetrating gaze, "We'll protect you and you'll work with us."

"Until someone decides it would be counterproductive to keep me around."

Sarah's chin dropped as she swallowed heavily. "I don't think it's right, Chuck, but I'm not going to deny it could happen."

"And my sister, and my friends, are they in danger?"

"Tell them nothing to keep them safe." Damn it!

Chuck turned and looked at Sarah wondering if she remembered anything about their conversation about his family that evening. "Sarah, I can't keep this from my sister or Morgan, they're going to figure it out."

"I remember what you said to me, Chuck, and I know it's hard, but you know you have to." Dammit! He's not stupid! He knows the greatest danger to them is from us! Sarah reached over and squeezed his hand under the sleeping bag. He looked at her, searching her eyes. "I need you to do one more thing for me."

Chuck cocked an eyebrow at her skeptically, "Yeah?"

Sarah gazed back at him unwaveringly, "Trust me, Chuck."

A small smile turned up on his face and Chuck turned to look at the sunrise again. His eyes softened and an expression of quiet resignation filled his face. "What a way to meet a new day," he said wistfully, and Sarah bumped shoulders with him as they sat silently, huddled together on top of the mountain.

Sitting at his computer in his study, Langston Graham looked at the realtime satellite image of a couple wrapped in a blanket perched on the tip of a mountain peak. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he watched them and he thought of his conversation early this morning with the young woman in the image. Sarah was one of his best. But over the last few years she had been through a lot; tasked with some truly dreadful assignments, and taking on some soul-sucking responsibilities in the process. He knew that if she kept it up she would be burned out in a very short time. As much as he valued her as an agent, he didn't want to see her reduced to a shell of her former self. What he was seeing here on the screen gave him pause. But then he looked up to see his own gorgeous wife leaning against the doorframe to his den, looking at him thoughtfully…and he wondered if it really mattered.

"Talk to me, Langston. Is this about Sarah?" his wife asked him.

-IV-

The phone vibrated in his pocket. He'd lost track of how many times it had done that during the night. Now the sun was finally shining on him and relieving the chill that had settled into his bones from sitting out all night in the cold mountain air. He heard footsteps on the gravel behind him and a woman's hand reached into his vest, removed the phone, and placed it open on the bench next to him.

"Major Casey," said a woman's clearly annoyed voice over the speaker, "Major Casey!"

John Casey looked at Sarah Walker with a cold stare as she sat down on the bench next to him with the phone between them. "Yes, General, I'm here. Secure, but not alone."

Sarah shook her head with a wry taunting smile. You're secure, all right. Maybe I should take a picture for her.

"Where have you been, Major? I've been trying to contact you for hours," said the General in a tone that said her patience had disappeared long ago.

"I couldn't get to my phone, ma'am. Graham's enforcer is here with me."

"Are we on speaker?" asked Beckman suspiciously.

"Yes, General."

"Good morning, General Beckman," said Sarah, coldly.

"Agent Walker? Are you all right? I was concerned that the worst had happened."

Like hell, you were. "I'm fine ma'am, and so is the Major."

"And what of the subject, is he still alive?"

The subject?! Who the hell do you think you are? Sarah gave Casey a very cold look conveying what she thought of Beckman's question and apparent expectations. Casey returned her unspoken message with a blank face and a slight shrug of one shoulder. "As far as I know, the subject is still alive, General," he said, evenly.

"Good," replied Beckman, unconvincingly, "The situation has changed, and so have your orders. For now, you will assist Agent Walker in securing and protecting the subject until we can decide what to do with him. I'll contact you once we have a plan in place. Until then you will cooperate fully with Agent Walker and treat... Mr. Bartowski with dignity and respect. And, Major Casey, this comes straight from the top." The general practically spit the last two sentences and then the phone display lit up showing the call had ended.

"Hmng," grunted Casey, staring at the phone, "You want to untie me now, Walker?"

"No, not particularly. Can I count on your cooperation?"

"Orders are orders. I don't disobey them."

"Yeah, apparently not even when they're unlawful," said a disgusted voice behind them, and they turned to see Chuck pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, staring at his feet. Then he turned and walked into the cabin. Sarah looked at Casey and saw the big man's mouth was drawn into a tight line. That one had apparently gotten to him.

"We have some serious damage control to do," Sarah muttered with resignation, as she untied the ropes and opened Casey's cuffs.

"Hnmg, speak for yourself, sister." The Major rubbed his wrists and then tenderly touched his chest under his vest with just a hint of a grimace, "I don't think I owe that one anything," he added, jerking his chin toward the cabin.

"Yeah, you two are probably close to even," retorted Sarah as she slapped Casey good naturedly on the chest with the back of her hand, causing him to glare back at her through gritted teeth. "But don't think for an instant you and I are," she said, with icy cold blue eyes that didn't match her smile.

Both of them turned again when the door to the cabin slammed shut. They watched Chuck put the padlock back on the door and start walking toward the Super Cub with the picnic bag in his hand and one of his packs over his shoulder. He had replaced the .45 automatic he had been carrying earlier with the big N frame Smith and Wesson .44 magnum revolver Sarah had seen him pack at his house. It hung in a leather cross-draw holster on his belt with a speed loader pouch next to it.

"Where the hell does he think he's going?" asked Casey as they watched Chuck throw the baggage into the back of the Cub and start to climb in.

"Home, I guess." Sarah looked toward the plane with pain clearly registering in her eyes, and met Chuck's gaze through the side window as he reached up to put his headset on. She hastily reached into her waistband and handed Casey his Sig Sauer, "I'll stay with him, I'm sure you can find a ride."

"Hnmg."

Sarah turned and ran to the plane, barely getting in before the engine started. After a very brief run-up, Chuck looked over his shoulder at Sarah to make sure she was belted in, and gave her a sad, thin smile as he raised the door. He pushed the throttle to the stop and the Mistress made an abrupt 'J' turn and accelerated down the hillside with the tail up, not rolling much more than seventy feet, before he jerked the flaps out, and the plane launched into the air.

"Damn, that kid can fly," Casey grumbled, begrudgingly, while he stood on the hilltop and watched the airplane fly away.

-V-

Sarah sat in the back seat of the Cub in silence as they flew back toward the valley. If the tension hadn't been so thick that you wouldn't have been able to cut it with one of her very sharp knives, she might have actually enjoyed the flight. The early morning sun was lighting up the mountains around them in spectacular relief on this crisp, clear, spring day. The air was smooth and free of turbulence. She wished she could say the same for her thoughts; they were a twisted roiling mess. Every couple of minutes Chuck would turn his head to look for traffic or at something on the ground giving her the opportunity to study his face, if only in profile. He avoided looking at her, but when he did, his face didn't show a hint of anger. Mostly it seemed to be showing her pain, confusion, and resignation; the kind of face you might see on a condemned innocent man walking to the gallows in an old western movie.

As they flew along she thought about how Chuck had managed to sneak out of the cabin and eavesdrop on Casey and her unnoticed in the dark. There were so many things she hadn't considered about him that he had showed her with one startling surprise after another. Chuck was a hunter, and he had stalked two trained agents skillfully like they were wild game. She also kept forgetting that he was also almost a Navy Officer, with all the military training that went along with the rest of the exceptional engineering education he had received at Annapolis. She chided herself when she realized she kept underestimating him because of his country upbringing and unassuming charm.

The revelations of his family history also gave her pause. Not only had Chuck been brought up in an atmosphere of self-reliance on a farm, he had also been apparently well prepared by his family to deal with the harsher realities of life, especially when Sarah considered how he handled a handgun. There was so much more than met the eye about this sometimes awkward looking and lanky young man. And then there was the way he flew an airplane. That truly astounded her. Sarah knew a few pilots in the Company's aviation section, and none of them could hold a candle to Chuck when it came to raw skill and courage in the cockpit. She was sure he would fit perfectly in what now passed for the CIA's old Air America division of specialized aviators, who flew what were known as the 'Whitetails'.

However, what overrode all those whirling thoughts were the ones that had hit her like a ton of bricks falling from the top of a tall building; the ones that had turned her normally well suppressed emotions completely inside out. Thoughts that ignited feelings in her she had never felt before or that had lain long dormant. She didn't know how to deal with them. But she knew she had to. When she looked into Chuck's eyes she knew that he was feeling them too. Despite all the deception and crap she had heaped on him in the last two days he was still showing her something so very special in his eyes every time he looked at her. He seemed to somehow know that she was feeling as trapped by the situation as he was. He'd told her as much around the fire last night. He didn't care about the rules, and he had good cause not to. Sarah couldn't help but wonder where the evening might have led if John Casey hadn't shown up with such awful timing. But it also might have been a huge blessing considering what the NSA agent could have interrupted if he'd shown up only a little while later. She shook that thought from her head. It could have been a disaster. But maybe it would have been worth it.

A voice was trying to penetrate through her deep contemplation. Was that Chuck?

"Sarah? Hello, earth to Sarah." She looked up to see him looking at her curiously.

She shook her head, meeting his eyes, "Yeah, I'm here, Chuck. Sorry, I was lost in thought, there."

"Are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

"I think I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"Yeah, well I've definitely had better days," he answered with a short, slightly mirthless laugh, "But flying is always therapeutic. I'm sorry I've been so quiet. I know this can't be much easier for you either. I understand the difficult position you've been put in."

Wow. How does he do that? "Chuck, I'm so sorry I didn't say something to you, but I couldn't; not until I knew what was happening."

"It's okay. It's good to know at least there is someone in my corner." After a pregnant pause, "You are still in my corner, aren't you Sarah?"

Ouch. How can I blame him for that? "Yes, I'm still on your side. Chuck…what I said to Casey last night…I was trying to protect you. I know it didn't seem that way. It was wrong of me to say what I said. You aren't a tool to be used…by anybody. You don't deserve to be treated this way because of what Bryce did."

Sarah watched as Chuck pursed his abruptly down-turned lips as he stared out the open door. "I'm sorry I called you a tool, Sarah. It was too harsh. So what are we going to do? I don't think Casey's boss agrees with you. I still think she wants me to disappear, and I can't help but think she's still going to try to make that happen."

You weren't entirely wrong, Chuck Bartowski. I've allowed myself to be an unquestioning tool too often. Chuck felt her hand on his shoulder and a shiver ran up his spine as he turned to look at Sarah's hand and then her eyes. "Please believe me, Chuck, I'll do everything I can to keep that from happening, and I think I have Deputy Director Graham's full support. I think he'll back whatever decision I make when it comes to your protection."

"What makes you so sure? How do you know you can trust him?"

"I can't explain it Chuck." How can I explain this to him? "I just know."

He nodded with resignation as he plied the depths of her eyes, and then looked down at the foothills below. "Alright, Sarah, I guess I'm just going to have to accept that answer for now. We're almost home. Maybe we can talk some more about this later?"

Home. If only. "Yes. We have a lot to talk about. We have some decisions to make" Sarah agreed, a touch of pathos slipping into her voice. "And then I'll need to talk to Graham about it."

Chuck nodded, his eyes focused out of the plane as they let down and flew by the farmhouse off to their left a few hundred feet below them. They looked at the house and the animals in the pastures as they passed. Everything looked serene and normal, like just any other Saturday morning as the Super Cub turned over Morgan's house to a final approach over the oat field. They settled to a soft landing on the cut alfalfa and rolled up and through the gate at the end of the strip pulling to a stop next to the barn. Shutting the engine down Chuck hung his headset from the overhead crossbar and removing his cap ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. He felt that now familiar tingle as Sarah placed her hand on the back of his neck and softly caressed the locks on the back of his head. He turned to see her giving him a reassuring smile and he couldn't help himself upon seeing that. He returned the smile when he saw the look in her eyes. "How about we put the Mistress to bed and go make some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I could definitely eat," Sarah said, "Climbing up that mountain after you last night left me totally famished."

"Well, we can't have that," Chuck answered with a smile, "I'm feeling a little starved myself. Let's go see if we can do something about that."

-VI-

They walked out onto the back patio carrying heaping plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and tall glasses of orange juice. The morning sun was filtering through the grape vines on the arbor above them as they sat next to each other with a view of the pasture and the foothills behind the house. "We make a pretty good breakfast team," said Chuck as he liberally buttered his stack of pancakes.

Sarah smiled coyly at him as she poured maple syrup on her short stack, "Yeah, we do. You're not a bad pancake flipper. I've never seen anyone actually flip them through the air like that. How long did it take you to learn to do that?"

Chuck snickered, "Many a pancake crashed and burned while I learned that. It's just one of the many skills my Mom taught us. She taught Ellie and me how to do that when I was about ten. She said it was an essential breakfast skill, but I think it was mostly about having fun and getting us involved in the kitchen. You should see Ellie flip a crepe." He broke the yoke of his egg and took a bite. "You're not too bad with a fried egg, yourself. Not one broken yoke."

"Thank you, but I got lucky. I usually make a mess of them, but you inspired me."

The corner of one side of his mouth turned up, "Well it's nice to know I can be an inspiration to you about something as mundane as flipping an egg."

If you only knew. "Can I ask you a question, Chuck?"

He looked at her thoughtfully, "I guess I can assume it's a sticky one since you're asking for permission."

"Maybe. I'm not sure, really. Where did you learn to shoot like that?" She watched as he frowned and let out a breath in a rush. "I'm sorry, if you don't want to talk it, but I think I owe someone a debt of gratitude. I think you might have saved my life last night."

"Then you can probably thank my Mom and my Grandpa. They both taught Ellie and me to shoot when we were still pretty young. It's simply something you do when you grow up on a farm and raise livestock. Mom was a deadeye with a handgun, and Gramps got me started shooting competitively when I was in high school. Then the Navy got wind of it and put me on the rifle and pistol teams at the Academy. I still shoot steel at the local range every couple of weeks during the off season, and I have a benchrest and a one thousand yard gong down by the creek." Chuck paused and looked contemplatively at his plate as he cut a bite from his stack of pancakes. "Sarah, do you really think Casey would have shot you? I've been second-guessing myself ever since last night. I don't know what happened, but once I flashed – for lack of a better word - on the vest he was wearing and knew I could shoot him without permanent damage my training just sort of took over."

"Well, you may have saved both of us. I think you were right, he was about ready to shoot me."

"And now he's assigned with you to protect me?"

"Yes, that appears to be what has happened. The Intersect was primarily an NSA project."

"I'm not really sure what to think about having someone assigned to protect me that only hours before was told to kill me."

Sarah's face fell as she looked at her lap, "For the time being Graham wants me to stay close to you until we can be sure of Beckman's motivations."

Chuck looked at the beautiful woman sitting next to him with a pensive expression and pursed his lips. "Sarah, what Casey said about you…about you being assigned to kill me too, about forgetting to get you to answer any questions…" Chuck looked at her with pain on his face, like he didn't want to believe what he had heard, "…about the 'Ice Queen'…Sarah, please, I don't want to think any of that is true. That's not the person I met two days ago."

"Chuck…" Sarah said quietly, "We didn't know what you might be involved in with Bryce. Whether or not you were an enemy agent who would prove to be hostile…I had contingency orders. I knew they would be illegal if you weren't a foreign agent. I couldn't carry them out." she looked up from her lap at him apologetically, "Chuck, the information about your family history was left suspiciously out of my briefing papers for this mission. Someone was trying to cover up some very important details about you…trying to manipulate the situation."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to try to find out. Something just doesn't add up."

"Why did Casey say those things about you? I thought you were all on the same team, especially after 9/11." He couldn't bring himself to say it again. "Why did he call you that?"

Sarah looked away out toward the pasture and the horses grazing, her face an expressionless mask, "Because I have a reputation, Chuck. I'm known as Langston Graham's wild card enforcer, his honey trap, and the ice queen. On a few occasions I've had to do some things I'm not proud of to get the job done. I don't think I deserve the reputation, but it is what it is. The life of a field operative sometimes takes on one of its own, regardless of how we might want be perceived by our peers and superiors. And that leads to negative perceptions from almost everyone else, too. We don't live and work in a vacuum." Sarah turned suddenly, surprised, her eyes narrowing as Chuck quietly laughed.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. Please don't take that the wrong way," Chuck said as he worked to get himself back under control, "Most of the people in my profession have similar issues. Hardly a day goes by where Kyle and I don't have to dispel the myth that what we do is done by guys who belong in a rubber room, or live in a liquor bottle or on drugs when we're not working…or that we're not drunk or on drugs while we're actually working," he added with a chuckle. "The simple truth is we take our job very seriously, and spend a lot of our time doing what we can to manage the risks, so we can come home to our families at the end of the day. We're professionals. Still, there's an undeserved stigma that surrounds our job. It doesn't surprise me to hear you have to fight some similar battles. I think I need to lighten up a bit about my own opinions of what you people do. Ellie and I decided we didn't want that life, but it doesn't mean we don't respect what our parents did…or what you do," he said softly.

Slowly a smile crept back onto Sarah's face as their eyes met. "Well, that might very well mean I'll have two stigmas to fight if things go the way I think they will."

"How so?"

"I'm still going to need a cover job if I'm assigned to you, Chuck."

"Oh. Yeah, I see what you mean," he said as he pushed his plate away from him and looked at his hands on the table. "Maybe we can help each other. It looks like I may have found my way into your life whether I want to, or not." He looked up to see a sad and dejected look on Sarah's face. "Oh, crap, Sarah, that was not the way I intended to say that," he said with a sigh, "I meant if I have to be dragged into the spy world, not…your…" He stopped when she reached over and took his hands in hers. "What are we going to do about this, Sarah?" he asked looking at their clasped hands.

"I don't know," she answered with more than a hint of frustration, "But I don't want to give it up. And you need to know it's real. I don't want to go back to where I was before I met you. Wow, it was only a couple of days ago, and already I…" She looked up at him when he gave her hands a squeeze.

"Yeah," said Chuck with a bit of awe... and fear. "I believe you."

"Good. Because it's true. I've never felt this way before… or so suddenly. I honestly don't know what to do, Chuck. Part of me wants to run from it."

"Why?" Was it fear he saw hiding in the back of her eyes too? "Please don't run Sarah. There must be some way we can make this work. I don't think I can do this without you…and that's not even a small part of it."

He needs me? Is that what he said? Nobody ever…not like that. "I'm staying, Chuck. In fact, I think I'm going to have to move in with you. I don't see how else I can protect you. Not when the nearest house is over half a mile away."

Chuck looked back at their hands again and answered apprehensively, "I understand. I'm definitely not going to move out of my family's home." He looked up to her with a small wry smile. "Not that I'm not receptive to the idea of you moving in. I kind of like the idea. It's just…I don't know how we're going to explain it to people. It's too soon for that...even if we were…you, know…"

"What?" Sarah asked looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"You know…if we're…" He let out his breath with a gasp as he turned beet red and he chuckled. "You know, if we're a...ah…"

"If we're what, Chuck?" she teased.

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Sarah just looked back at him intently. She could feel his grip tightening anxiously on her hands.

"Okay, we'll play it your way. If we're an item…a couple; if we've jumped into the deep end," he said, searching her eyes for an answer.

"Into the deep end?' she asked, with a short giggle.

"Ugh, cut me some slack, okay? I know it's way too early to be thinking about this. Maybe I have been out of circulation for too long, especially when faced with someone…as beautiful, and as extraordinary, as you."

"Time waits for no one. Do you want to be a couple, Chuck?" Did I just ask him that?

He briefly flashed that one sided smile nervously at her, and studied her eyes for a moment; fascinated by the way they had changed to a shade of green in the light filtering through the grape vines. "Yeah. As strange, and as scary as the last couple of days have been, yes, I'd like to give it a try, Sarah Walker."

"A Try?" Not fair! He just laid it all on the line, don't do that to him!

"Under the circumstances, and considering how long we've known each other, I thought that was a pretty strong statement of commitment," Chuck said, pulling one of his hands away and palming his face with an exasperated sigh. "What do you want, Sarah?" he asked, lowering his hand and fixing her with a challenging gaze.

She sat there for a moment meeting his gaze, seeing a thousand of her own unsettled emotions reflected in his hazel brown eyes. Real emotions. Deep emotions. Overwhelming emotions. And the next thing she knew, she had pulled herself onto his lap and wrapped her hand behind his neck, looking at a startled expression on his face. "I want to give it a try too, Chuck." Damn the stupid rules!

"Really?" he asked with a bit of marvel in his voice.

"Yes, really."

"So what do we do now?" He asked as his hand found the small of her back and it made her breath hitch from the sensation.

"Well, for now, we're going to have to be very careful about it. Do you have a spare room?"

"Yes. There's a guest room next to Ellie's. It's actually very nice."

"Then, for the time being, I should probably 'rent' that room from you," Sarah said, making air quotes with her fingers, "You know, until I can find my own place?" she asked with a wink.

"Find your own place, huh?"

"I hear that there's a severe housing shortage in the area right now. It could take a very long time," Sarah said, with a mirthful smile.

"Well, since you put it that way. I can't have you living in the barn."

"Maybe you could find some room for Casey in there."

"I don't want that man anywhere near my livestock," Chuck answered with a frown. "Besides, that's way too close to the house for comfort."

"You're probably right," Sarah said thoughtfully as a mischievous grin grew on her face. "Is there a hay loft in your barn?"

He looked at her questioningly, "Yes, most barns have a hay loft, you know."

"Then Casey definitely does NOT get to live in the barn."

"What? Why?" Chuck asked, with a confused look on his face.

"Don't tell me you've never had a girl up in the hay loft, Chuck."

His eyes suddenly went wide, "OH! Not since my sophomore year in high school. Jenny Peterson," he answered with a slightly, embarrassed, chuckle.

Jenny? Sarah looked longingly into his eyes, "That is way too long. I've never been in a hay loft, you know." she said softly, as her eyes fell to his lips.

"You're really diving into this country girl thing head first, aren't you?" he asked as his gaze fell to her lips and they moved closer together.

"Let's just say, I'm very curious about it now," Sarah answered breathily as her lips softly met his.

The kiss started out chaste and sweet and slowly became more passionate as Sarah's hand caressed his cheek and Chuck's arms wrapped around her waist pulling her closer, his hands running up her sides and back. As it deepened, Sarah wove her fingers through Chuck's hair as she ran her tongue gently over his lower lip, and they met in the middle sharing each other's breath in a long open mouthed kiss. They were completely absorbed in it, with their eyes closed, but when they finally broke apart they looked wide eyed at each other for several seconds before their lips met again with fervor.

Slowly, a sound in the distance brought them out of it and they both turned to look over Chuck's shoulder as two black UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters flew low down the creek and flashed by them with a low whining roar and a receding Doppler effect from their engines and rotor blades as they headed west at top speed. They stood up from the chair and, hurrying around the corner of the house onto the south porch almost ran headlong into Morgan, looking for all the world like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Chuck, Sarah, good morning," Morgan exclaimed, "I saw you land. I'm glad to see you made it home, okay. How was Barstow? Did those black helicopters follow you back? Did you run into agents Mulder and Scully at the steak house or something?" he asked, cocking his thumb over his shoulder with a grin.

"Morgan! Hey, buddy," responded Chuck, looking at his friend curiously, "Yeah, we had a great time. No, we didn't have dinner with any FBI agents," he added with a nervous laugh as he exchanged a look with Sarah. "It's not every day we have black helicopters flying through our yard, is it?"

"No…no, that's not an every day occurrence, that's for sure," Chuck's friend answered with a nervous chuckle of his own. "Looks like they're headed for the county airport."

"Yeah, it does. What's up buddy? You feeding the livestock?"

"Yeah, that's done. I was going to go for a ride, but I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to catch the mare now, thanks to those knuckleheads," he said gesturing over his shoulder again. "Did you enjoy your airplane ride with Chuckster, Sarah?" Morgan asked looking at her with an appraising smile.

Sarah pulled her attention away from the receding black rotorcraft and met his gaze, "Yes, I had a great time, Morgan. Your friend is a pretty amazing pilot, and he taught me a thing or two about fishing, too."

"Well, Chuck here is an amazingly multitalented guy, I'm sure you haven't even scratched the surface with him yet," Morgan said looking at her with amusement.

Okay, buster, just what did you see? "Yeah, Chuck is definitely full of surprises." Sarah and Chuck exchanged another knowing look, trying not to give too much away in the process, before turning back to Morgan who was looking back and forth between the two of them with a broad smile on his face.

"Ahem. Well. I think I'll go see if I can catch that mare. Ya'll are welcome to come along if you want."

"Thanks for the invitation, pal, but I think we'll save a ride for another day. I have a suspicion that I'll have to clean up the English tack a bit for Sarah. It's been a while since it's been used."

Sarah turned to him in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Just a hunch. You didn't look like you were unfamiliar with horses the other night," he answered cryptically.

A low humming sound emanated from Sarah's jacket and she reached into her pocket and looked at her phone display with an almost hidden frown. She rolled her eyes at Chuck and held her finger up as she stepped a few paces away from them and began talking in a hushed tone.

Morgan looked at Chuck with a raised eyebrow and a smile. "I'll take that as my cue to skedaddle, dude. You owe me a full report about the date," he added pointing at him.

"Ha! You're only getting the redacted version, buddy."

"Uh, huh. We'll see about that. See ya later, Chuck. I'd tell you to stay out of trouble but I don't think it's going to be easy with that one," Morgan said, with a shake of his head as he walked away.

Chuck looked from his friend to Sarah and the smile disappeared when he saw the expression on her face as she walked over to him, grabbed his hand, and headed toward her Porsche. "What's up?" he asked, "You don't look too happy."

"We have visitors," she said with a quiet voice. "Our friends in those helicopters. I'll explain on the way to the airport." Sarah looked at him curiously as they climbed into her car. "Chuck, who are agents Mulder and Scully?"