A/N This was a pretty long section in canon, so I'm cutting out some parts for later.

"Hold the presses!"

"A bit of a déjà vu-ish quality about it."

"A classic Geek tragedy."

"That's all right then."

Devon was reading a journal article about kidney disease. Not usually his thing, but everything that had a heart also had a kidney, and sometimes a problem with one indicated a problem in the other. He flipped the page.

"Aah!" Something banged in the kitchen.

"El?" he asked, tossing the journal on the table. "You okay?" He got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, where she was supposed to be putting groceries away, except she wasn't. She was holding that frying pan like she had that final night, when Chuck came in disguise and took that Ring thingie away.

"Yes, Devon, I'm fine," she said firmly, setting the skillet down.

"'Cause you don't seem fine," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. He'd done his best then, and most nights since, to re-orient her focus, so to speak, but it didn't seem to be working long-term.

"I know," she said, stepping toward him. He opened his arms and she took refuge there. "I was at the store, just getting some onions, and I looked up and there was a guy looking at me, and I thought, 'what if that's one of them?'"

"'Them'?"

"Those guys, the ones in black," she said into his shirt pocket. "I'm being silly, I know…"

"No, you're not," said Devon. "You have a perfectly normal anxiety. Something new, strange, and dangerous entered our lives, and you have no way of knowing if it'll ever leave again. It probably has, though, it's not like we're doing anything to keep 'them' interested." He hated saying it, but at least it was true. Chuck-true. True but not true. That little spy adventure had been his, not Chuck's, and it was well over, but he couldn't exactly say that to Ellie. She'd want to know how he knew, and the first word out of his mouth would be something stupid-but-true, like 'conspiracy', so, best for her not to ask those questions.

He sighed, knowing she would take even that the wrong way, and ashamed of himself for letting her take it that way. He'd gone from handling his wife to 'handling' her, and he didn't like the change, didn't want to live in Chuck's world anymore. He had to, though, even if only a little bit. He had to know that Chuck was doing something, like that overnight a few days ago, so that he could make sure Ellie noticed nothing. "That guy in produce was probably just seeing the most beautiful woman on the planet, like I did, and I'm not hiding the fact that I love you." That much at least was completely, totally true, and they clung to it as much as they held to each other.

At the Buy More...

Hannah was about to lose her mind. This guy Chuck was driving her crazy.

He was barely civil on the plane, okay, she could live with that. They'd only just met, so she tried one of her favorite ice-breakers on him, the guess-the-passenger game, and he was good! She was better, of course. They really were the Yale Fencing club, she saw that in the debarkation lounge, but he wasn't there to celebrate her victory with her. She would have liked to celebrate with him, something bright for those dark days.

She'd told him about those, right after he'd finally opened up to her, and she thought they really had a connection. Too bad about that stomach bug or whatever it was kept him in the bathroom so long. She'd gone to sleep alone, and woke up the next day a little sore. He'd come back in the night, and she'd somehow ended up curling toward him, but you were really supposed to lie flat in those airplane seats.

A trip to the Eiffel Tower would have been just the thing, for her and for him too, she'd have made sure of that. He'd been so enthusiastic, a dead giveaway, but then that damned phone call kept him on the plane! What a waste, but he'd been admirably stoic about it. She was sure he'd been going to say something else, but that call took all the fire out of him, and his goodbye had been cool and professional, like hers.

He was so odd, so hot and cold, and today was another of his cold days. She'd seen a flare of… something…in his eyes when she walked in, but then that big guy dragged him out for yogurt of all things. How do you get that big eating yogurt? By eating a lot of it, apparently, since he'd dragged Chuck out for more the very next day. He must live on the stuff.

At least Chuck came back in time to see her destroy those two toads, but again he wasn't there to celebrate her victory with her, selling some hardware to a customer. They'd talked forever, in the aisle, at the checkout, you'd think they were best buds or something, but the manager had already said he was Chuck's best bud. They'd probably still be chatting if the customer hadn't seen her coming and bolted out the door. What was that all about?

She took a step closer, and then, just then, Chuck's phone rang. Ergh!

The call was short, but that didn't help. Chuck headed over to find Casey, and together the two left the store at a run. More yogurt?

"Hey, Hannah," said Morgan, out of his office at last. "How's it been going on your first day?"

"Terrific," she said, shoulders slumping.

"Chuck around?"

"Yogurt."

"No Bartowski tour?" Morgan looked around, but no vultures appeared to be circling this harmless little muffin. Okay, then. "Well, we don't really need Chuck for this. Come with me, and I'll show you how it runs myself."

Casey waited until they were under cover, inside the yogurt shop. "Alright Bartowski, what have you got?"

"I was doing great with Manoosh until Hannah spooked him, but he wants to hang out later."

"Good job, Chuck," said Sarah, leading the way into Castle as always. "He likes you, he trusts you."

"Of course he does," said Casey, covering their six, as always. "They're two geeks in a geek pod. You got that receipt?"

Chuck handed it over so Casey could pull Manoosh's financials. "We do have a lot in common."

"Keep on going as you are," said Sarah. "Don't come on too strong, don't make advances."

"You made advances," said Chuck. He knew the theory, but hadn't thought about how her technique differed until now. "Left me your card. You even called me."

"I was under time pressure," said Sarah. "I didn't have time to wait for you to talk yourself into it, or Morgan."

"Plus you're sort of the poster girl for coming on strong," said Chuck, writing down the name of the place Manoosh would meet him at for Sarah. "Or haven't you looked in a mirror lately? I thought it was the luckiest day of my life."

"Kind of odd that they wasted her on you," said Casey, building an unfortunate picture of their mark from his shopping habits. "They don't use the blondes on just anyone, and you hadn't dated anyone in years."

"Not years," said Chuck. "Okay, yes, years. I admit it, I was pathetic."

Sarah smiled. "You were sweet. I said I liked you, and I did. We connected like they hoped we would, and you took charge, like you were supposed to."

The restaurant and the band, just before the chasing and the bombs. "Wait, does that mean you really did have a favorite band?"

"No," she said sadly. "A lot of what I allowed you to see that night was true. That made it much harder, for a while."

"Time," said Casey when his alarm beeped. He'd programmed the average time it took someone to eat a bowl of the yogurt into his watch, not a long interval, it was terrible stuff. They'd go back to work while Sarah used her copious spare time to plan the surveillance.

In the Buy More…

"…and here is storage closet number two–hi, Skip–very popular with smokers, since there's a draft by that pipe." He turned back to the tall, skinny, Nerd Herder. "How long has it been, Skip?"

Skip looked at Hannah. "Five, Mr. Grimes, sir."

"There are worse bosses than me, Skip."

"Yes, sir." Skip left the room, and they followed after him. "And that's the tour," said Morgan.

"Wow, you must know every bolt-hole in this place," said Hannah, trying to sound impressed. It wasn't really hard, she just took her reaction to his complete control of his people and attached it to different words.

Morgan smiled. "In my old days, I discovered most of them, part of my work-avoidance program. Comes in handy, here in my new days."

"Old days?" asked Hannah.

"I was a slacker greenshirt once upon a time," admitted Morgan. "Then Chuck said to me 'follow your heart, your head will only get you into trouble.' And I did, well, not right then, but eventually. Followed it right to Benihana training school, my dream job." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor. "Couldn't cut it, came back here."

"So your dream job wasn't your heart job," Hannah said.

He shrugged.

"And your heart job and your head job both seem to be the same thing," she continued. "Is there any rule against that?"

Morgan lifted his head. "No, I guess there isn't." He smiled at her. "How'd you get to be so smart?"

At the Nerd Herd desk…

Chuck was entering yet another fake install when Jeff and Lester crept into view. "Might we be allowed to speak with you, please, Mr. Bartowski, sir?" whined Jeff.

Chuck kept the desk between him and them. "What's the matter with you?"

"Her!" choked Lester, looking around. "That devil woman."

"You've been watching too many Disney flicks again…"

"She doesn't belong here, Chuck," said Jeff. "We think she's a spy."

"He thinks she's a spy," said Lester. "I'm still leaning toward demoness."

Interesting. Useful. And possibly entertaining. "Why would you think that?"

The two flipped out their notebooks. "We're glad you asked," said Lester.

Later that night…

"Okay, Operation Dream Date commencing."

"Gee, thanks, Casey."

"Don't mention it." Casey toggled the microphone off. "What are you gonna do with all that guacamole we stole?" he asked his van-mate. "Some new, even more horrible yogurt concoction?"

"Hey, great idea, Casey." Sarah didn't write anything down. They sat there for a few minutes listening to their partner and his mark discuss the merits of their favorite comic books.

Casey turned the sound down. "You know, Walker, we got really lucky."

Sarah watched the two of them, wondering what words went with all the gestures. "Yes."

"Don't you want to know why?"

"Why?" she asked dutifully.

"That the Intersect went to the right nerd." He tapped the monitor. "Can you imagine having to babysit that guy?"

Sarah looked at the monitor. "Yes. Yes I can." Chuck, looking so cheerful. "It's going to be bad."

"Guys, he's got a Ring phone."

Casey activated the tracking module, and the answer came back far too quickly. The Ring was close, and getting closer. He hit the mike. "Sarah's on her way to seal the deal." She took the hint and got out of the van.

"What? Why?"

"The Ring's on its way. You're doing fine but slow and steady will lose this race. We need her to do to him what she should have done to you."

Poor Manoosh. Having been on the receiving end of Sarah's practiced smile, Chuck knew exactly how he felt. He was pretty sure he'd handled it better, though, Jill and Bryce had been good for that much at least. Manoosh had nobody except him.

It was kind of weird playing wingman to both sides, but with the Ring on its way he had no time to play favorites. Manoosh really needed it, too. Sarah was coming on stronger than usual, and the poor guy looked ready to melt. Sarah leaned in close, brushed her lips against Manoosh's, and hit him with the tranq as she did.

The lady behind the bar saw the mark collapse and held out her hand toward some of the patrons at the other end of the bar. "Pay up, suckers." To the two hustlers she simply said, "Whatever your game is, play it outside," pointing to a door. As the cons hustled their mark out the side, she pushed the plate of leftover nachos down the bar (waste not, want not) and flashed a bright smile at the suits that came in the front.

The next day…

Chuck looked through the mirror at Manoosh's sleeping form as Sarah came through the door, pulling on a robe. "You were going to do this to me?"

"Pre-date, probably," said Sarah. "Post-date, definitely would've bumped it up to a number eight."

"Must have been a good date," said Casey.

Chuck and Sarah shared a smile. "We liked it." He watched as Manoosh started to twitch. "How many times have we done this?"

"Not as many times as we need to," said Casey, reloading his dart gun.

"They're Twilights, Chuck," said Sarah.

"'No permanent damage', yeah, I know," said Chuck. "Wait, if we've given him a number seven five times, is that like giving him a number thirty-five once?"

Casey didn't bother to answer. "He's up."

Chuck put up a hand. "He's my asset, let me take care of this." Casey put down the gun, and they watched as Manoosh found his clothes and his phone but not his briefcase. From a pants pocket he pulled out a card, the Buy More card Chuck had given him yesterday, and before long Chuck's phone was ringing.

The world's best wingman stood by a display rack at the Buy More, a shiny briefcase at his feet. He was waiting for a man, and a man appeared. "Dude," said Devon, once he located Chuck standing someplace other than behind the counter. "You gotta help me. Ellie's freaking out about that whole men-in-black thing, and I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry, Devon," said Chuck. "I have a plan." He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, a baggage claim check from a flight to Paris. "Take this to my place. Crumple it up and throw it in my wastebasket, right on top. Once you've done that, I'll call Ellie, tell her I'm working late, and ask her to get my laundry from the machine when she gets back."

Devon took the ticket. "I don't get it. You want her to see this?"

"She doesn't need to see it, she needs to find it. Right now she's lightning in search of a rod." Chuck pushed his hand down. "I'm giving her a rod."

Devon put the claim check in his pocket. "But all that'll do is make her worry about you."

"Yeah, but she'd used to that."

"I can't believe you'd lie to your sister like this."

Chuck looked insulted. "I'm not lying, I'm telling the truth in advance of Reality." He patted Devon on the shoulder. "Baby steps, Devon. By the time we get there, Reality will have caught up, and we'll have Ellie back on the ground again."

"I hope so." Devon stumbled a bit on his way out.

"And he's on his way." He checked the time. "This had better work."

"Don't worry, Bartowski. I've seen this a million times. They need to do something, or at least think they are. Your mark's at the door."

Chuck looked up, and waved. "Over here."

A few minutes later, down in Castle…

Chuck came down the stairs from the break room entrance. "What'd I miss?"

"Boy Wonder up there turned around and went back into the store the second your back was turned," said Casey.

Chuck watched the footage replay. "Crap."

"Don't pout, it wasn't about you." On the screen a couple of men with 'Thug' stamped on their foreheads entered the store. "Your boy's going out the back." He switched to that monitor.

They watched as Manoosh got blocked in by a car, and a new bunch of thugs got out. The guy in charge said something, but the mikes had the sensitivity turned down, and the team in Castle couldn't hear it.

"He's not afraid," said Sarah, watching Manoosh flap his arms around. "He's just pretending."

"He's going for the case," said Chuck.

"Whatever he made, the idiot's got it with him." They watched as Manoosh got out his weapon. "Ha. Glasses. Told you so."

"If I remember correctly, we all came to that conclusion together," said Sarah, watching Manoosh wipe out his opposition.

"Yeah, but I said it first. He moves a lot like you, Bartowski."

Sarah shook her head. "Not as smoothly, you can see where Chuck's made a lot of improvement. And it looks like he's only got one set of skills." Which was enough to get him out of the loading bay, sans phone.

"Wish we could so something about these losers," said Casey. They still had time to tranq them, otherwise they'd wake up again in a minute or two.

"What do you think this is, Casey," said Chuck. "A secret government base?"

"That's not a priority," said Sarah. "But we've got Manoosh bugged, so don't worry. If those guys are any good at all, you'll have your chance."

A/N2 That lady bartender seemed like a nice person in canon, I'm not very happy to make her so cold-blooded in this story. But really, who let's a couple of total strangers carry out an unconscious customer like that? I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.