A/N Adding the payoff to the whole Ellie subplot.

"First things first."

"He doesn't know what he doesn't have."

"Time's up."

"You win!"

Devon pretended to read his magazine, sneaking glimpses over the pages at his wife, moving around the kitchen making dinner without any sign of the joy she normally took in the task. "Hey babe, what's going on with Chuck?"

"Why are you asking?" she said, marching into the living room. "What do you know?"

"You're cooking on auto-pilot, El," said Devon, putting down his magazine. "You wouldn't do that unless you're worried about something. There's nothing going on with me, so I figure it has to be Chuck."

"Did you know he went to Paris last week?"

Fortunately Devon didn't know any such thing, so he was able to be completely honest and non-sweaty when he said, "No."

"He asked me to bring his laundry back for him, and I found a claim ticket in his wastebasket," she explained. "The initials were CDG, and that's an airport in Paris."

"I'll take your word for that."

"But why wouldn't he say anything?" asked Ellie, or Devon, of the air. "He's always wanted to go, but how could he afford it?" Her eyes got wide. "I wonder if he saw the Eiffel Tower?"

"Uh, El, you kind of left the stove on," said Devon. As she went back into the kitchen to recue dinner he added, "He's your brother, just ask him."

"Nobody's over there anymore," she said. "Not even Morgan."

"Well, ask him when you see him. He'll be back," said Devon, trying to sound blasé. "It's not like he's hiding in a hole in the ground."

In a hole in the ground, named Castle…

"We have to hide him somewhere," said Sarah, watching their guest from another room. "If the Ring finds him he can build them another Intersect."

"I think the Ring has pretty much burnt their bridges with Manoosh, Sarah," said Chuck. Calling him debris while sticking a gun in his face would have had that effect with him, that's for sure. Of course they could try threats and intimidation, but Chuck wouldn't want to put on any pair of glasses that resulted. He was more concerned with whatever technology Manoosh had already made. "The prototypes are gone, but we need his designs and his code, and we're not going to get those if we stick him underground."

"We need to keep him safe."

"Yes, but a secure isolation facility isn't the way to do it." Chuck waved a hand at him. "Look at the guy, his entire life is isolation. We know how well that worked. Trust me, I've got it all set up."

"I don't know," said Sarah, placing one finger on his chest. "I asked you to trust me years ago, and look how well that's worked."

"Exactly." Chuck walked into the conference room where Manoosh waited.

"Chuck!" he said, rising from his chair. "Thank God you're here, I've been scared to death. When are you guys gonna spring me? I just wanna go home, forget this ever happened."

"There's a problem with that, Manoosh," said Chuck, sitting down at the table, and Manoosh sat down too. "It did happen. You can't go home."

"What do you mean?" said Manoosh, standing up again. "You gonna kill me? Bury me?"

Chuck pointed to the chair, and waited for Manoosh to sit in it. "If I was going to do that I could have done it in Dubai, don't you think? My partner was waiting and more than willing to take that shot for me. I tranqued you to prevent him from taking that shot. No, the reason you can't go home is simpler. It's the first place those guys will look for you."

"Oh."

"Damn right, 'oh'," said Chuck, reminding Manoosh of how they'd met, just a few days ago. "It wasn't a big loss for the Ring but it was a loss, and your name is written all over it."

"So what do I do?" asked Manoosh. "Chuck, you have to help me."

From the General, that would have been an order. From Sarah, or Ellie, it would have been a statement of a moral imperative. From Manoosh, it was a plea. "I am helping you, Manoosh," said Chuck. "I've been helping you all along, in spite of every hole you've tried to dig for yourself. No more holes for you."

Casey walked in the far end of the room, with a couple of labcoats in tow. With a gesture and a grunt he washed his hands of them.

"Gentlemen," said Chuck, rising, "I leave him in your hands."

The labcoats sat on either side of Manoosh, their computers already open, and Chuck left the room. "On the project?" asked Sarah.

"He reverse engineered the Intersect from a burnt circuit board, Sarah," said Chuck. "If that isn't a gold-plated resume I don't know what is."

"Looks like they think so too," said Sarah. The two labcoats got up and were leaving the room with Manoosh in tow.

"Hey," said the new recruit, "You guys think we can swing by my lab and grab my stuff?" One labcoat said "Sure" while the other flashed Chuck a thumbs-up where Manoosh couldn't see it.

"Gotta hand it to you, Bartowski," said Casey. "You burned him so smoothly, he didn't even know he'd been burned. Good job." He patted Chuck on the back and walked away.

Later, in the Buy More…

Two mouths, one sentence, as Chuck and Hannah walked toward each other, one of them coming in. "What, you still here?"

"Jeff and Lester leaving you alone?" continued Chuck. They must be, their only other mode of interaction with females involved hovering.

"Haven't seen them in days," said Hannah. "I think they're hiding. Or maybe they went to Paris too."

"Wouldn't know," said Chuck, pretending to laugh. "I was in Dubai this time."

She took it as a joke. "Who makes your schedule?"

"I do," said Chuck, and it was true. Technically Chuck was an independent contractor, so he could come and go as needed.

Hannah continued past him toward the exit. "Well, my schedule says now is my break time, so guess where I'm going."

"Um…on break?"

"Got it in one," she said. The doors slid open. "I don't know why everyone says you're so dumb."

"Neither do I." Chuck waited a bit until she left, then shouted, "Who says I'm dumb?" right on time.

"Ah, F-Troop," said Morgan, standing behind him. "Gotta love the classics."

"I do?" asked Chuck. "Right. I do. Wouldn't have thought she'd be into it, though."

"There's a lot you don't know about our Hannah, isn't there, Chuck?"

Hannah the possible spy. How far had she gotten herself under Morgan's skin while his back was turned? "What's that supposed to mean?"

Morgan smiled, catlike, with canary feathers here and there. "Nothing." He started to walk away, then turned back. "Is there, oh, anything you wanted to say to me, Chuck?"

"No," said Chuck. "Anything you wanted to ask me?"

Morgan shook his head. "Not at all. Good talk, Chuck."

"Yeah, buddy," said Chuck to Morgan's back. "One of our best." He took one step–just one, he counted–toward the Nerd Herd desk.

The door slid open behind him. "Chuck?"

Chuck turned around, a smile on his face. His sister was walking toward him. "Hey, Ellie. What's up?"

"A couple of things," said Ellie. She lifted a hand, counting off on her fingers. "I picked up your laundry, like you asked. It's folded in your drawers."

"Ellie, I'm old enough to fold my own–"

"I threw away an old coffee cup on your desk, and oh yes, I found the ticket for Paris in your trash, Chuck." She looked at him, shades of disappointment in her eyes. "Since when did we start keeping secrets from each other?"

Casey and Sarah watched on the monitor as Chuck gave Ellie his prepared story. "You know, for a guy who couldn't lie to a bug last year, he's gotten pretty good with his nearest and dearest," said Casey. "You've been good for him, Walker."

Yes, she had, but not in the way Casey meant, and not here. "Maybe I have, but he's not lying. He's giving Reality its marching orders."

Grunt. "Not necessarily a good thing. Reality doesn't like being told what to do. What happens when he finds that out?"

"We'll get through it." Together.

In the Buy More…

Hannah, the she-demon, was gone, temporarily. Morgan, the Ass Man, remained, and Jeff and Lester dared to come out of their holes. The interview was disappointing for a pair that lived the majority of their lives vicariously. They'd been expecting the call from their noble boss, an assignment to shadow She Who They Would Not Name. His interest in her was obvious and pathetic, ripe for exploitation.

But that call never came, and so they came to call. Morgan, it seemed, was performing his own 'research', and despite their subtlest inquiries–"Did you take her to Pound Town?" and "Can I get the address?"–he had no details, or was not sharing them if he did. When he said he needed a little research done, they almost told him to do it himself, but then he told them the name of the subject of that research. Chuck Bartowski.

A challenge worthy of their mighty skills. They wouldn't be catching him out with phishing scams and keystroke loggers. He'd been disappearing from under their noses for months, ever since he hooked up with Blondie, so catching him would perhaps catch her as well. Those two would be their ultimate test, their ultimate prize. They accepted the commission gladly, their freedom to fly.

"Finally."

That night, at the Casa de Woodcombe…

"Finally." Ellie tore into the newly-arrived courier envelope, and pulled out some slips of paper.

Devon turned down the volume on his cooking show. "What's up, babe?"

"The tickets to Paris are here," said Ellie, in a voice of delight. "First Class." She showed them off to him.

He ogled them appropriately. "Wow, the Chuckster really came through, didn't he?"

Ellie unfolded a letter, and read it. "There's more. Here's the address of an apartment in the name of Hannah Something, I can't make out the last name. It's currently unoccupied and will be for the remainder of the month. Oh, Devon." She clutched the paper to her chest. "Paris."

"End of the month, huh?" said Devon, reaching out for the letter. "Then we better get cracking. I hope we can both claim that much vacation time with such short notice."

"We have to do something nice for Chuck…"

"Pictures and video of the Eiffel Tower," said Devon. "Especially the elevator, you know how much he goes on about that." Whenever anyone dared to mention the Eiffel Tower, which wasn't often. "Should keep him happy until he can get there himself." He reached for their calendar. "Dates, we need dates…"

Their paths converged in the Buy More's Home Theater room, as they so often did. "What have you got?" one of them said.

"Well," said Hannah, drawing the curtains before turning on any lights, "Last night was 'E-F' night, so tonight I brought Memoirs of a Geisha."

"Cool," said Morgan. "And I brought some Sizzling Shrimp, a fine Chinese meal to go with a fine Chinese movie."

"Geishas are Japanese," said Hannah. "What did you bring?"

"The one, the only, the immortal–" He displayed his prize with a flourish, "Highlander."

"What's immortal about it?"

"You are about to find out, young–"

"Do not call me 'grasshopper'!"

Morgan acted insulted. "I was about to say 'delicate feminine flower." When she giggled, he added, "And don't tell Chuck I borrowed his Director's Cut. He's keeping secrets from me, we'll just keep that a secret from him."

"Secrets?" asked Hannah.

"Suspicious behavior going back months!"

She frowned. "Are you suggesting Chuck is caught in a giant web of conspiracy and deception?"

Morgan sighed. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"

"I couldn't agree more, and I've only known him a few days," said Hannah. "Finally, someone with some common sense. Maybe between the two of us we can figure out what's going on."

"Don't worry." Morgan smiled, and took her DVD over to the player. "I've got my best men on it."

At the Casa de Bartowski y Grimes (more specifically, outside the Casa de Bartowski y Grimes)…

"One glass," said Lester, and Jeff wrote it down. "One bottle, label not visible."

"Drinking alone," said Jeff. "That's never good." You should always have a wingman to hide you in a dumpster when you passed out. Maybe it was different for people who lived in houses.

Footsteps sounded, coming up the walkway. Lester rotated his periscope to see who it was. "It's the shiksa!"

"Run away! Run away!" said Jeff, and together they fled through the potted undergrowth.

Sarah thought she heard something, but nothing seemed to be there. She let herself into the apartment. Chuck sat at a table, with a bottle of something brown in front of him, and a glass of something brown at his lips.

Chuck gulped the brown liquid down. "I don't remember inviting you in," he said truculently.

"I don't remember Manoosh inviting you to re-arrange his life, either," said Sarah.

Chuck looked down at the empty glass in his hands. "Yeah, I know." He refilled it. "Somebody had to do it."

Sarah remembered a certain curly-haired nerd, standing behind a desk, singing. Piece of cake. She pulled out a chair and sat. "Pour me one too, barkeep."

A/N2 I really hate strong characters made to appear weak, for comedic purposes. Not funny to me, and since I'm writing the story Ellie's getting her honeymoon. Casey and Sarah watching Chuck drink alone in canon was also a bit OOC, I thought. I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.