Like "24", I come at you with a two-night premiere event before going to a regular schedule. Please, enjoy Chapter 2 and give me lots of feedback.

Oh, and I added a last minute bit of Chuck trivia into Chapter One. Surprised no one caught it. It had to do with the names the Mystery Woman researched. The person who gets it will get an attaboy (or attagirl) from me.

CHAPTER TWO: THE LAST DAY OF THE ILLUSION OF NORMALCY

"You gotta love my foresight," Chuck said as he withdrew a blanket from the trunk of the Porsche.

"Among other things," Sarah smiled back.

Leaving their shoes in the car, they hit the beach. It wasn't long before Chuck felt comfortable enough to take her hand in his own. They shared an easy smile as they walked along the shore, wet sand between their toes. After ten minutes, Chuck found the perfect spot. It'd been a couple minutes since they'd spotted any other person. He spread the blanket over the sand and the pair made themselves comfortable.

They watched the sun dip in the horizon. The brilliant hues of sunset. Sarah had to give Chuck credit. The boy may proudly declare himself a nerd, but he wasn't without a few romantic ideals. This time it was Sarah who initiated the handholding.

"Good day," she whispered. He looked at her curiously. Sarah blushed. "Movie. Good food. Romantic sunset. When'd you get so smooth?"

"Well, I've watched you for over a year now. Like to think I've picked up a few things."

A kiss felt like the thing to do. But just before their lips could touch—

RingRingRingRing

"Karma, what'd I ever do to you?" Chuck bemoaned. Sarah chuckled in sardonic agreement as she reached for the iPhone in her pocket. Checking the caller ID, she informed, "It's Casey."

"Never normal," Chuck sadly voiced.

"Never normal," Sarah agreed. Lifting the phone to her ear, "Yeah... Fine. Be there in twenty." She tucked the phone away. "New job," she regretfully informed. "Thank you, Chuck."

"For what?"

"For this moment. Or near moment." A beat. "At least this time there wasn't any violence during our date," Sarah pointed out.

"Step in the right direction," Chuck ruefully acknowledged.

-----------------

She could have been an average restaurant diner. Well, perhaps not average. She was far too beautiful to ever be labeled as average. Nearly 5'10, athletic build, dark red hair, pale skin, bright green eyes.

Rachel Roe chose this Mexican restaurant specifically for its streetside dining patio. Or rather, the view the patio offered of the apartment block across the street.

After enjoying a plate of carnitas de puerco, Rachel kicked back with a beer and cigarette. Lighting a Marlboro, and ignoring a few pointed looks of disapproval from other diners, she spared a quick glance at her watch. If it was gonna happen, it would happen soon. Within ten minutes.

It had taken some doing, but Rachel finally derived that Sarah Walker's immediate supervisor was NSA General Diane Beckman. Just hearing that news made Rachel think she was on the right track. A joint operation meant something big.

Rachel knew the information packet she e-mailed should have been routed to Beckman earlier that afternoon. Assuming Washington took a couple hours to analyze, followed by a quick mission debriefing of the local Los Angeles team, Rachel figured the show should start shortly.

That, of course, was assuming there was still an Intersect. The Washington team would naturally come up with nada. To them, the info packet would just be a garble of unrelated data. However, if there was an Intersect, the data would make perfect sense to him or her. And it should lead them here, to this apartment complex, where a small cell of Fulcrum agents was operating. Rachel just hoped she hadn't miscalculated...

Then it happened. Several black vans and SUV's came rumbling down the street. Even Joe Blow could identify the arrival of a heavy duty tactical assault team.

Even in the darkness of night, the streetlights were bright enough so that Rachel spotted her immediately. Sarah was still a beauty. Cool, confident, and ready to rock. And was that... John Casey? Oh baby. He was one NSA Agent Rachel never had a problem liaising with. Oh, that week in Krakow...

And who was that other piece of sexy with them? Tall with dark, wavy hair. Blue jeans, tight red t-shirt. He definitely seemed out of place in comparison to the battle ready assault team.

He was an asset. No doubt Miss Walker was playing the part of the doting girlfriend, while Mr. Casey was the bruising bodyguard. And for that boy to have the CIA's Golden Girl and the NSA's baddest Cold School killer on his protective detail...

"He's the Intersect," Rachel breathed. Then, from somewhere else on the patio—

"Devon. My God. Is that Chuck?"

Rachel turned to find the voice. A beautiful brunette with olive skin and a passing resemblance to the Intersect. Sister? She sat with a very sexy and fit young man.

"Was that John Casey and Sarah?" he asked in return, equally perplexed.

Interesting, Rachel thought. Sister and... boyfriend? Oops. Not with that rock on her finger. Fiancé. That could prove useful, completely unexpected and unplanned as it were. Maybe the Fates were on her side for once.

Gunfire. A quick burst from the fourth floor across the street. Rachel saw Devon and Sister jump at the sound. Much as she'd like to watch the after party, she really had to be going. While everyone's focus was on the apartment across the street, Rachel tossed a couple twenties to the table, snubbed out her cigarette, and slipped away.

----------------

"Can I be honest?"

"Yeah."

"There's something about a beautiful girl in black BDU's and body armor that drives me wild."

"Oh, Chuck, if I had a dime for every time I've heard that..."

Despite the fact Casey was still at the Castle debriefing the General, despite the fact no one was out in the apartment courtyard to watch them, Chuck and Sarah held hands.

"Really? Lots of guys come up to you complimenting your Kevlar?"

"It's a male driven business," she answered simply.

As they walked the courtyard, a strange lull in the conversation rolled in. Neither quite sure what to say. Finally, Sarah offered:

"Thanks again for today. I know things didn't end the way..."

"It's okay," Chuck interrupted. "We take what we can get, right?"

Sarah nodded morosely. "Right."

"How about I throw some popcorn in the microwave and we watch some Comedy Central? I think Neil DeGrasse Tyson is on Colbert again tonight."

A smile reappeared on her face. "Sounds like a plan," she decided.

When Chuck opened the apartment door, both were struck by the strange sight. Ellie and Devon, sitting in the dark, each drinking a glass of wine and looking confused.

"Hey guys," Chuck drawled. "What's going on?"

"Good question," Ellie said. "What the hell was that tonight?" Off Chuck and Sarah's confused looks, she clarified. "At the apartment complex across from the Mexican restaurant."

In all her years of medicine, Ellie never saw anyone pale so quickly, let alone two people. She saw the look they shared and understood it. Both were racking their brains, searching for a convenient lie. At the same instant, both realized there wasn't one.

"When it rains..." Sarah breathed.

---------

Ellie was on her third glass of wine, but the alcohol still wasn't helping her wrap her mind around the situation. One look at Devon told her the feeling was mutual.

"Chuck is an analyst for the Central Intelligence Agency?"

Chuck stayed out of it, deferring the answering of all questions to Sarah. For her part, she easily spun a mostly truthful version of events, minus the fact his brain was the government's ultimate supercomputer.

"And you and Casey are CIA Agents."

"Actually, Casey is NSA. Long story."

It was Devon's turn to ask. "So you and John are like... bodyguards?"

"The term is handler. Because of Chuck's unique abilities, it's necessary that he have a constant security presence. Casey is there for protection at work, I'm there during off-hours."

"So you're not really his girlfriend?" Ellie bemoaned. "Damn. I really liked you."

"Well, that's a long story, too," Sarah vaguely stated.

"Can you tell us the nature of your work?" Devon asked.

"No, I can't. I can say, however, that Chuck has been instrumental in thwarting numerous threats to national security. Ellie, your brother's a real hero. His actions have saved countless number of lives. Including mine, several times."

Ellie glanced over to find her brother blushing at Sarah's words. She knew her brother could do great things, had said so on numerous occasions. Still, she had difficulty reconciling the man she had known since his unfortunate expulsion from Stanford with the man Sarah was talking about.

Then she looked back to Sarah to find her watching Chuck. Admiration, pride, even love shining plainly in her eyes. In that instant, as unfathomable as it might seem, Ellie realized every word that poured from Sarah's mouth was the truth.

"So all those nights. All that strange behavior. Coming home with various nicks and bruises. It was because of this?" Chuck merely nodded. "You couldn't even tell me? Your own sister?"

"Ellie, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Ellie, if you want to be angry, please, be angry at me," Sarah pleaded. "Chuck is a very important asset to our government. So much so that we needed to keep his very involvement with us quiet. To reveal any information about his activities, even an acknowledgement that he works for us, could potentially put him and his loved ones in danger."

"Should I be angry?" Ellie asked. "Because I don't know. Tonight I watched my sweet brother, someone who I've dedicated the last 15 years of my life protecting and nurturing, storm into a building with a SWAT team where minutes later there was a hail of gunfire." She looked squarely at Sarah. "Should I be angry at you? Should I hate you? How many nights have there been like tonight? Nights where my brother has been confronted by men with guns? How often is his life in danger?"

Sarah crossed the room and knelt on the floor at Ellie's feet. She captured the doctor's hand in her own.

"Listen to me. This is a tough job. And for someone who's had no formal training, your brother has done nothing but rise to the occasion. Yes, that sometimes puts him in dangerous situations. But I want to tell you something. As his handler, I have been tasked with Chuck's safety, to protect him at all costs, even at the expense of my own life. I swear to you, if it came to that, I would make that choice in a heartbeat and be glad to do it."

"That should make me feel better," Ellie admitted, "but I'm still stuck on the part where you admitted he's put in dangerous situations."

"Yeah. I sometimes get stuck on that, too. But if anyone tries to hurt your brother, I swear, I will run the bastard down like a dog on the highway."

Everyone's brows, even Chuck's, lifted at the graphic description.

"So what?" Devon asked. "Are we supposed to pretend like tonight never happened?"

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do. Go on with your lives. Go to work, go on dates, plan your wedding. Chuck will do the same." She saw Chuck's brows lift again. "Well, not plan his wedding." Sarah blushed. Chuck just wore a big old grin. "Oh, shut up, Chuck." Gathering herself, "The routines and patterns that have been set must be maintained. And it's absolutely vital that everything you've seen and heard tonight be kept under lock and key. Am I understood?"

Ellie nodded. So did Devon.

Sarah sighed, satisfied, that job done. "Okay then. Now for the tough part."

"Tough part?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah. Where I get reamed out by my boss because Chuck's cover took a major hit."

Chuck leapt from his spot at the kitchen table and approached her.

"Do you have to tell Beckman?"

"Yes." Chuck ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Sarah could sympathize. She knew worst case scenarios were running through his head. "Chuck, the situation has changed. Your family knows too much." With a pointed look at Ellie and Devon: "I don't mean to alarm anyone, but that's a bad thing. If someone, somehow gained knowledge of that, they could be leveraged against you. Beckman must be informed. Contingency plans must be devised. Look, Chuck, I don't like it any more than you do. But if I withhold this information, the consequences the CIA and NSA enact could be severe."

Chuck leaned in, whispered so his family couldn't hear, "Bunker?"

"For you guys," she softly replied. "As for me? They wouldn't trust me anymore. And it's not good for an agent when the bosses don't trust you." A beat. "Come on. Walk me out?"

Sarah took Chuck's hand and led him to the door. He was obviously still distressed, but managed a moment of humor. Looking back at Ellie and Devon, "Guess since they know the score we don't have to pretend around them anymore."

"I guess so," Sarah answered. Looking directly into Chuck's eyes, she kissed his cheek and wrapped him in a hug. Whispering into his ear, "Everything will be okay. Beckman isn't a complete robot. She won't lock you all away. I won't let her."

Chuck hesitated a moment, then blurted, "Is what you said true? Would you actually give your life to save mine?"

"Absolutely," she said without hesitation. Then, with a rueful smile, "Though that ain't exactly Plan A." A look of disbelief flashed across Sarah's face. "Tell me I didn't just reference Serenity."

Chuck snorted a laugh. "Oh, but you did."

"God. Look what you've done to me. Turned me into a big, damn dork."

"Yeah, I've known you awhile now. I feel fairly confident that you were a dork long before we met. I've merely lured the beast out of hiding."

Sarah couldn't contain the burst of laughter. But when she noticed Ellie and Devon's shocked, dumbfounded expressions, she reigned in her amusement. "I need to go," she said. "There's the ass chewing from Beckman to deal with. Probably another debriefing with Casey to explain the situation. Then I need to get some sleep. I open the Orange Orange tomorrow."

"You could always come back here after the briefing. Save you the trouble of driving home."

Sarah paused to consider it. Probably wasn't a good idea. But still-- "Leave me a sleeping shirt in the bathroom?"

Chuck smiled, and feeling bold, returned Sarah's kiss with one of his own. "Sure. The maroon Stanford shirt you like."

--------

"What do you mean, THEY KNOW?" Beckman bellowed.

Inside Casey's apartment, Sarah had initiated a teleconference. The General responded from her home computer, obviously woken from a deep sleep, and all the angrier for it.

"It was an unavoidable circumstance, General," Sarah explained. "Simply a case of wrong place, wrong time. There was no way to anticipate Ellie and Devon's presence at the restaurant."

Beckman cooled. Some.

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. Or an abridged version of it. I simply stated Chuck was an analyst. No mention of the Intersect. No mission details."

Beckman nodded.

"Your assessment?"

"They'll keep quiet. Both care for Chuck deeply. Neither will do anything to compromise him."

"What of you and Casey?"

"I explained our presence as being his loyal protectors. I foresee no issues on that front. I made it quite clear the status quo must remain in tact. However, I do believe countermeasures must be devised in the event hostile forces discover they have knowledge of Chuck or us. Extraction procedures, should the need arise to move them to a secure location."

"Agreed. I'll have a team create extraction scenarios. Debrief Major Casey on this development. I want to reconvene at noon Pacific Time for another briefing."

"Understood, ma'am."

"Beckman out."

-------------

It was nearly two am when Sarah quietly opened Chuck's bedroom door. She stealthily made her way into the bathroom, rinsed away her makeup, brushed her teeth, and stripped away her clothing, donning her usual Stanford t-shirt.

Very carefully, Sarah tried to slip into bed without waking Chuck. As usual, he seemed to sense her presence.

"Hey you," he whispered. "How's your ass?"

"Not as sore as I thought it'd be," Sarah joked.

Both turned on their sides, so they could face each other.

"Think when we wake in the morning this will all be a dream?" he asked.

"I really hope so. I mean, the part where your sister and Devon know, not the movie and dining and sunset part."

"Yeah, me too."

Underneath the blankets, two hands moved closer together, until fingertips barely touched. They shared a smile, then fell asleep.

END PART