A/N Half this story is pre-written. Sarah already looks creeped out and Shaw is acting like a creep. How they ended up as a couple in canon I'll never know.
"Agent Shaw was in a rush."
"Save your breath."
"We're the professionals."
"It's a date."
Sarah was busy typing on her report when someone entered the room and put something by her elbow. "Is that your heart, still beating as you ripped it from your chest?"
"No," said Shaw. "It's a double-shot Americano. No cream, no sugar, just the way you like it."
"Because that's not creepy at all," said Sarah, still typing. Somehow when Chuck did it, it seemed friendlier. Or perhaps she had it backward, that he was being friendly, and learned her ways for that purpose, a higher purpose than whatever Shaw had in mind, she was sure. "I'm going to assume the poison is on the swizzle stick."
Shaw, his fingers already in his shirt pocket, came back empty. "I'm not trying to kill you, Sarah."
Possibly. There are lots of liquid chemicals he could put on the stick, that weren't lethally toxic. "No, of course you're not," she said.
"Hey, gang," said Chuck, coming down the stairs.
Sarah spun in her chair, a smile on her face. Her arm, still extended, accidentally caught the coffee cup and knocked it off the table, spilling double-shot Americano down Shaw's leg and into his shoe. Sarah looked down at the mess, and up into Shaw's face. "Whoops."
Chuck looked at the two of them. "What's going on?" Casey, halfway down the stairs, saw the puddle and headed back up for some paper towels.
"Nothing," said Shaw, squishing his way up to the front of the table. He waited until Casey had scattered the towels and found a seat. "You've guessed the CIA is not interested in stealing the mask…"
Jeff and Lester crouched in the parking lot behind a parked car, looking at the windows of the Orange Orange. "Casey and Chuck, in their usual positions," said Lester, looking through his periscope, and Jeff wrote it down. "Still no hot blonde behind the counter." Jeff wrote 'Boobs'. Lester lowered his scope and sighed at the banality of it all. "We're done here."
Agent Jones watched the two heat sources on her scope get up and walk away. She checked the windows, where ghostly images of Carmichael and Casey played, and looked at her watch. The footage didn't have much longer to run.
Down at the briefing…
"We're going to pose as what?" said Sarah.
"Guests at the party," repeated Shaw.
"An affectionate couple, no doubt."
"It would be best," said Shaw, and the stats backed him on it. Unattached agents attracted civilian attention, which they did not want.
"Too bad I'm not field-capable," said Sarah smoothly. "Controlling my breathing and heartbeat the way Chuck taught me is one thing, but my vault was a decompression chamber and I was trapped there for an hour. You'll have to find someone else."
Upstairs, in the OO…
Jones heard the door inside the freezer open, and then the outer door, so she dialed down the sub-sonics. Casey and Chuck came out, as expected, but so did Sarah, which wasn't. "Go on down, Jones," she said, as the two men went to the end of the counter, ready to step into their positions when the projection ended. "You're going to love this."
Back at the Buy More…
Hannah watched Morgan's two 'best men' slink out of his office, eyes roaming the store floor for any opportunities for mischief. She kept her position behind the desk and sure enough the Ass Man came to her. "Anything?" she asked.
"Apparently Casey really loves his yogurt," said Morgan, shaking his head. "And doesn't mind bees. Jeff's convinced he hears bees, so he won't go very close."
"You said they were your best," said Hannah.
"They are," said Morgan. "They're just hard to keep on a task. With great power comes great–" Distractability? Is that even a word? And anyway he's mangling Spiderman's best line, and you don't go dissing the web-slinger if you want to…He noticed her looking at him. "I'm sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah, well, torn between Casey eating yogurt on one end and Tank-Top Brunette on the other, they've switched priorities." He sighed. "You want to know what I think?"
"Absolutely," said Hannah.
"Yeah, so do I."
Hannah patted his hand. "Don't worry. Hopefully I can found out something on our date tonight."
Morgan's head came up. "A date?" With Chuck? Chuck already had a girl, why did he have to come after–?
"The museum thing, remember?" said Hannah. "He told me to bring my little black dress, and I will."
Morgan's eyes went wide. "Little…black…"
"Like this, only black." Hannah pulled her shirt tighter. "Lower neckline. And sleeveless, of course."
"Of course," said Morgan, his breathing somewhat labored. He pulled at his suddenly tight collar.
"He won't know what hit him."
"Yeah, what hit…him?" Morgan blinked. "Yes. Yes, of course." He took a deep breath. "What hit Chuck. Because Chuck needs hitting. Right. Well…good luck." He shook her hand and beat a hasty retreat to his office. He sat there for a good while, staring at his favorite poster, burning with unfamiliar emotions. Rage, that Chuck got to see what he would not. Jealousy.
Since when had he started thinking of Hannah as his girl?
Countdown to showtime…
Phillips-head screwdrivers? Check. Chuck put them in the box.
"Support pyramid and pulleys?" Check. Jones shoved them in the bag.
Lip gloss. Her favorite special lip gloss, perfect for this sort of mission. Check. Hannah shoved it in the bag.
Flash drive of diagnostic scripts? Check. Chuck put that in his pocket.
"Painkillers?" asked Sarah. Casey tossed her the bottle as he continued prepping the van.
Brass knuckles, in case anyone got handsy. Check. Hannah put them in the bag.
Showtime…
"Okay, here we go," said Casey. Monitor one lit up, showing the view from Chuck's laptop webcam. "Eyes on Agent Carmichael."
Chuck didn't waste time waving at anyone, typing busily on his keyboard, plugging in cables and external drives. Suddenly the other monitors in the van lit with views of the museum interior. "Eyes in the museum," said Sarah. "I see Shaw and Jones."
"I've got Hannah," said Casey. "Who'd she get all dolled up for?"
"Anybody else we recognize?" asked Sarah, ignoring the question.
"Facial Rec says no. Little Black Dress is in motion. Heading for the lobby." Casey switched the view in the main monitor for the lobby cam. "She's heading for the stairs. Be ready, Chuck."
When Hannah reached the door of the computer room, Chuck was sitting at ease, reading one of the brochures about the exhibit, complete with maps and history of the Alexandrian Empire. He looked up when she made a sound loud enough for him to plausibly hear it. "This is really impressive," he said, waving the piece of paper. "The empire, that is, not the brochure."
Hannah smiled. "You're such a nerd."
"I am."
"Morgan thinks the world of you."
"Yeah." Chuck lowered the brochure. "Hannah, can you keep a secret?"
She gave him an odd look. "I've been known to."
"Do you want to know the real reason I'm working at the Buy More?"
She looked around the room, not finding any answers there. "To save money on clothes?"
Chuck laughed. Once. "No, although that is a consideration." He tossed the paper on the desk. "When I came back from Tektel, I stopped at the Buy More, and I saw what the manager at the time was doing to everyone who worked there. They were pleading for my help, and I…gave it to them. One day he was there, the next day he was gone. Transferred. Not upward. Sideways. Not the best Buy More, that's for sure. A few days later he was dead." She gasped. "No one knows how or who, but I know. I killed him. And that's why I'm here."
Hannah stood there for a moment, her face a mask. "Morgan's in charge now," she finally said. "The rest of them seem happy enough."
"I'm not saying I didn't get my money's worth," said Chuck, sadly. "And I'm not saying it's a lifetime sentence. That homicide was just waiting to happen. I just–" He turned back to the board, and the monitors. Shaw and Jones, and behind them…He flashed.
Hannah misinterpreted his sudden stiffening. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Who do you see?" She came forward to get a clear look at the screen.
Chuck tried to sound excited. "I think that's that guy, that actor in that movie Morgan likes." He stood up. "Can you take the board for a second? Morgan would kill me if I didn't try to get his autograph." He ran out the door, before Hannah could point out that she was far better dressed to go asking for autographs in this milieu than he was.
In the museum, people turned to stare at the tall guy in the white shirt, clearly not one of them.
Fortunately he seemed to have a destination, and they all relaxed when it become clear that none of them were it.
The tall man who was it didn't seem to mind. "What are you doing here?" asked Shaw.
"You're a famous actor, and I'm here to ask for your autograph," said Chuck, handing over the brochure and one of his Nerd Herd pens. "And to tell you that the agent who broke in to the museum in Damascus, Nicos Vasillis, is in the room, right over there."
Shaw looked down, signing the brochure, sneaking a glimpse behind him. "We'll have to abort," he said quietly. "We have history. I'm pretty sure he'll remember the man who set his face on fire."
"Chuck, head on back to the control room," said Casey. "Shaw, answer your phone."
Hannah sat in the chair, staring hard at the screen to see if she could recognize the man. If it was someone from Morgan's endless DVD collection, he must not have shown her that movie yet. Chuck took the paper and pen, nodded politely and left. Then the man lifted his phone to his ear, and excused himself to his date. She looked after him as he moved to a more private location. Wait a minute. "Isn't that the girl from the yogurt shop?"
Shaw walked out to the lobby. "Why am I on the phone with you, Casey?"
"You had to leave before your cover got blown. Walker's going in, she'll do your part."
Sarah claimed not to be mission-capable. "Why not you?"
"I take too long to buff and polish for that crowd," said Casey. "Walker wakes up polished."
Chuck popped through the door of the control room, slightly winded. "Thanks for the assist," he said. "Enjoy your party."
Hannah picked up her bag. "Oh, I will. See you at work tomorrow."
Sarah walked up the stairs slowly, partly for the role but also because her joints were still kind of sore. As she walked in the door she heard rapid footsteps from the stairs to one side and looked to see Hannah practically running down them. She slowed, rather than be so gauche as to try to compete with a nobody for space.
When she entered the room, she immediately looked for Jones, only to find Hannah ahead of her every step of the way. Jones, not knowing anything about the diminutive brunette, was already looking toward Sarah when Hannah said, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"
Sarah walked past, snagging a flute of champagne from a server. "Jones is out," she said no one in particular. "Hannah got to her first."
"Dammit," snarled Casey.
"Chuck, you and I will have to get the mask."
"Head for the door at your eleven," said Chuck. "I'll buzz you through and meet you up top."
"Slave your system to ours, so we can control the vault door from here," added Shaw.
Sarah walked over to the door at her eleven and it buzzed. She opened it and stepped through just as the speakers said "Ladies and Gentlemen…"
Above the display…
"What have we got?" asked Chuck.
"Cables," said Sarah, "And harnesses. Jones had the heavy stuff with her."
"Okay," said Chuck. He tossed one of the cables over a ceiling beam. "You'll fly, and I'll anchor."
Sarah smiled. "You say the sweetest things." They donned their harnesses and attached the cables. "Let me," she said," running her hand down his torso as she brought the two of them-the cable and the harness, that is-together.
"Time to fly," said Sarah, stepping out over the hole, and Chuck let the rope out slowly.
"Carmichael, Vasillis' men are on their way."
"Now that's just bad timing, that's what that is," grunted Chuck.
In the presentation hall…
"I give you, the Mask of Alexander the Great," said the announcer, with a flamboyant gesture at the sealed vault door. The motors for the door started to whine. Shaw shut them down again. The announcer looked up at one of the cameras.
"Here, hold this a second," said Hannah, handing off her flute of champagne to Jones. She ran for the stairs.
Chuck went down and Sarah came up, which was good, since Sarah was the better fighter and Chuck had longer arms.
In the van…
"They'd better hurry up in there," said Shaw. That's the third time this woman has overridden my overrides. I don't know how much longer I can keep that door shut."
In the control booth…
"What's going on?" asked the curator.
"I don't know," said Hannah. "Something's fighting me. Every time I get the door open it closes them again."
In the vault…
Sarah dropped the substitute Mask and Chuck caught it, placing it on the podium. "Get me up."
"How?" said Sarah. "You're too heavy."
"Deadweights."
In the van…
"She beat my lockout," said Shaw. "She's good."
Casey watching the monitor. "Yeah, but Walker's better."
In the booth…
"Got it!" said Hannah in ultimate triumph. The curator edged past her to look down into the hall as the doors at last began to open.
Up above the vault…
Sarah pushed the two unconscious Ring goons down the stairs, tethered to the cable that held Chuck. As the doors began to open, he moved up as the goons rolled down. The hatch closed under him, causing a ripple in the air. Agent Jones looked up, but there was nothing to see.
Outside the computer room…
"Where the hell have you been?" shouted the curator, as Chuck came into view.
"I had a monitor on your electrical feed to the doors, just in case. You know, one of my little doodads." No they did not know. "Right, anyway, it started registering interference, so I went to check the motors, and I found this thing attached."
He handed over a piece of equipment that had in fact been put in place by the Ring, but to control the stairway door, not the vault door. He didn't tell them part. He held up a handful of bloody paper.
"I cut my hand getting it off, but I think the bleeding's stopped now." He'd actually cut his hand catching the fake mask, but he didn't tell them that part either.
"Is this what was fighting you?" asked the curator, more at home with ancient artifacts. He held it out to Hannah.
"I have no idea," she said. "I think that part's a transmitter, so…maybe. I can research it."
Chuck took it back. "I'll do that part," he said. "I told you, museums aren't my thing, but this is. Go, enjoy your mask. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Partner."
A/N2 Rewriting the fight scene was pretty tricky, as was getting all the proper players in position. I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.