A/N Departing from the source material just a bit here. James Mowery mentioned DARPA, and Bob's your uncle…

"What did you think you were doing?"

"I need a favor."

"We have a situation."

"Time for us."

Sarah waited outside until the cleaner team arrived, disguised as a police response team. They gave her the expected signal, so she started up the car and drove away. "What do you think they'll tell her?" she asked her partner.

Chuck sat motionless in the seat next to her. She looked at him with a frown. "Chuck?"

"I'm here, Sarah," said Chuck softly.

She stopped at the next sign, and focused on him. "Is something wrong? Answer me, Chuck."

"I'm fine, Sarah," said Chuck in that same dreamy voice.

"No, you're not, Chuck," said Sarah. "This isn't normal, not even for you. What's wrong, Chuck?"

Chuck's voice ceased to be dreamy. It ceased to have any inflection at all. "Error condition detected," he said. "Initiate download."

"Crap." Sarah got out her phone, pulling away from the stop sign in flagrant violation of most safe driving laws. "General?"

"That was quick," said Beckman.

Sarah ignored her commanding officer's blinding wit. "Something's wrong with Chuck," she said. "He sounds like a computer and he's reporting an error condition."

"I'll call DARPA," said Beckman. "You get him contained."

Sarah took him home, a route she had not followed, a house she had not seen since before she graduated High School. It had been a furnished rental then, perfect for a con artist family on the go. It wasn't a rental anymore, but Sarah had no fears of anyone living in it. "This isn't how I wanted you to see this place," she said, her voice a bit rough. She'd been talking to him the whole way, hoping that Chuck was in there listening, even if he didn't respond. She got out and opened his door. "Come with me."

Chuck got out of the car, following her to the door. She unlocked it and brought him inside, leading him over to a table and chair. "Sit."

Chuck sat. Sarah called the General again. "Any news?"

"Nothing definitive," said Beckman. "The code is too complex for easy answers. They're checking for error conditions, but he suggested you initiate the download, whatever that means, and take it from there."

That sounded…open-ended. "We'll need supplies," said Sarah. "This house has no food in it, and obviously neither one of us can leave."

"Give me your address," said Beckman. "I'll have the closest office take care of that. Be careful, Sarah. Good luck."

Initiate the download. Sarah got out her computer and set it up in front of Chuck, with an open document waiting. "Initiate download."

Chuck sat there, unmoving. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy. "Agent Carmichael," she said. "Report."

Chuck started typing. Sarah started reading, a millisecond-by-millisecond description of the events in Kathleen McHugh's living room, from the moment of Chuck's last flash. Angles of attack, available materials, efficiency analyses. A bloodless account of an almost-bloodless engagement, pretty boring stuff, really. Sarah forced herself to try to keep up, not that she could actually read what he was writing.

An hour passed. Chuck typed. Sarah listened to the rhythm of it, like a tune played over and over, listening for a false note, but she'd heard none so far. The doorbell rang, jerking her violently back to total awareness, and Sarah got up to answer it, accepting a box of generic supplies from the most junior agent in the local office.

More hours passed. Chuck typed. Sarah couldn't make him eat, but she made sure Chuck stayed hydrated. On the way into the kitchen for a refill she heard, "Sarah!"

She dropped the glass and didn't even hear it land as she ran to Chuck's side. His fingers were frozen on the keyboard but the rest of him was twitching. "Chuck! What's wrong?"

"Sarah! Help! The Intersect's trying to reboot!"

Reboot. Shut down? Sarah pushed the table and the computer on it away from where Chuck sat. "Stay with me, Chuck." She grabbed his hands. "Stay with me."

Chuck's fingers gripped hers. "I'm trying. I'm trying to stay with you, Sarah."

He needed more. She pulled his hands to her face. "Feel me, Chuck. I'm talking to you and you feel it, don't you? You feel me and you hear me as I talk to you."

His eyes were beginning to glaze over. "I feel you and I hear you, Sarah."

Jingle, jingle. "Look at me, Chuck. Right here, right now."

He jerked to awareness, old connections breaking as new ones formed. "Here and now, Sarah."

"Here and now, Chuck." Sarah left his hands in place, shucking off her jacket, untucking her white blouse. His eyes widened, as she hoped. She gripped Chuck's hands and pulled them from her face, stepping closer as she guided them under the shirt, pressing them around her waist. "Do you feel me, Chuck? My skin, my breath?"

Large, strong hands flexed, gently. "I can feel you, Sarah, the warmth of you. I breathe you. I can smell your perfume."

Sensory data, good. Analysis of sensory data, bad. He needed more, needed to go where the Intersect could not follow. Jingle, jingle. "Hold on to me, Chuck," said Sarah, undoing the buttons of her blouse. "Hold me, sense me, here and now."

Chuck held her, sensed her, old connections breaking as new ones formed. "Here and now."

Sarah dropped the blouse, and started undoing Chuck's shirt, reaching under the cloth. "Feel me, Chuck, feel my hands, holding you as you are holding me. I feel you, Chuck, the heat of you, just as you feel me. Here and now, Chuck, we are holding each other, together, here and now."

Chuck held on to her, old connections breaking as new ones formed. He smiled at her, in control of his own face. "Together, here and now…"

Back in Burbank…

Col. John Casey kept his lonely watch at the big table in Castle, concerned for his partners but trying to avoid thinking about whatever they were probably doing, by thinking about the past. The recent past, when he held Col. Keller's life in his hands, like a candle flame, and that flame went out. He treasured that memory, savored it, wished he could do it again. One death wasn't enough for Keller.

Not that he was the only one at fault here. Casey glared at the phone on the desk, future and almost-unrecognizable counterpart to the phone he'd held in his hand the night he'd died, the last time he'd had any contact with his fiancée. The night he'd left her behind as he walked into a new life, without even the courtesy of a Dear Kathleen letter.

Keller had stood behind him then too, like a shield against that life, holding it off until he killed it himself. With the dubious benefit of hindsight, the notion of Keller at his back made his skin crawl. Keller must have enjoyed betraying Alexander Coburn, he did it so often. Made him call Kath. Told him to bare his heart, as if she would believe that for one second, and she hadn't. Put him in his place right quick on that one. And then Keller had hung up on her, as she was telling him about some news. No idea what news.

He hadn't tried to keep track of her these last two decades, not a coward but not a masochist. He hadn't tried to shield himself, either, but her name hadn't come his way. Given the situation he'd done a routine first-degree search on her, part of his job, of course, but nothing about her life seemed to be newsworthy either. He couldn't imagine why Keller had thought she would be a handle on him after all this time.

General Beckman entered the room. He stood up, respectfully. "Ma'am?"

"Agents Walker and Bartowski foiled the assault on your former fiancée, Colonel," she said first off, knowing he would want to know and never ask.

Casey grunted acknowledgement and approval. He had a good team at his back.

Beckman continued with the bad news, "However, post-op complications have arisen, as they always seem to whenever the Intersect is involved."

"Yes, ma'am," agreed Casey. Not news. If nothing bad had happened, that would be news.

"Sarah has taken Chuck to ground, and will remain there with him until she deems it safe to continue." End of story. "How is your search for the missing laudanol coming?"

"The case I hid the pill in is no longer on the shelf, ma'am, and I have reason to believe that Morgan Grimes has it in his possession." He indicated the monitors. "I have the Buy More under continuous observation, with facial rec running, but neither he nor Devon Woodcombe, with whom he was last seen, have returned their usual haunts. I also have a first-degree search running, on their names and known aliases in all media."

Beckman nodded. "Very good. Keep me informed of your progress. The sooner that pill is back in our vault, the better."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Lastly, we need to discuss your future with Operation Bartowski. Despite the success of your latest operation, you stole government property from a government vault. This is not an act that can be or should be easily forgiven."

Casey shifted to a parade rest position. "I understand."

"I'm sure you do…"

Somewhere far to the south…

"Chuck?"

"Yes?" he said softly.

"How's that reboot coming?"

"What reboot?" he asked. "I think you melted my brain." She laughed. "The Intersect's fine," he said. "At least, I guess it's fine, it certainly hasn't given me any trouble these last few…has it really been hours?"

"Mm-hmm." Sarah rolled over in the bed, sheet drawn up discreetly. "I had to be sure."

Chuck rolled over too. "Desperate times." He traced a finger across her cheek to move a lock of hair.

I'll show you desperate. No wait, I just did. She puffed out a breath to move a few strands. "Not as desperate as getting out of this bed's going to be."

Hours later, back in Burbank…

Chuck and Sarah entered the courtyard, and found Ellie walking from his apartment. "Hey, sis."

"Chuck," said Ellie happily, nodding to Sarah. "Where have you been?"

"Day-tripped it to San Diego," said Chuck.

Sarah added, "I spent some time there, when I was younger."

"Nice," said Ellie, nodding again. "So you're really opening up to my brother."

Sarah smiled. "You might say that…"

"So what's been happening around here, sis?" said Chuck quickly.

"Nothing much," said Ellie, sounding annoyed. "Devon and Morgan convince me to go to Africa, and then skip out on the logistics to go to UCLA, together, for a football game. Since when have Morgan and Devon become football buddies? I didn't even know Morgan liked football."

"Well, just goes to show," said Chuck weakly, "People change."

"They just got back," said Ellie, "And the first thing they do is run off into your apartment to go online. Since when are Morgan and Devon gaming buddies? Devon doesn't even like that stuff."

"I'll…go ask," said Chuck, glancing at Sarah.

"Ask what?" asked Devon, coming up behind his wife. "Hey, Chuck, I'm gonna steal my wife back, if you don't mind, gotta talk about that whole Africa thing some more. You should go talk to Morgan about the wild time we had at the football game. Really. Right now."

"I….think we'll go talk to Morgan about the wild time you had at the football game," said Chuck. "Good night." Sarah waved. They went into the apartment, which was pitch black. "Morgan?"

"Right here, Chuck," said Morgan.

Chuck hit the lights, and they saw him, sitting in a chair, staring at a blank wall. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you," said Morgan calmly. "Devon said we had to report to your boss, but we couldn't hack your computer."

"Why didn't you ask Casey?"

"Devon was afraid to."

"What?" asked Chuck.

"Why?" said Sarah.

"Bartowski!" yelled Casey, slamming open the door. "Can you explain to me why I have to learn I have a college-age daughter by seeing her on the arm of this bearded troll?" He stuck a tablet in Chuck's face.

The first thing he saw was a picture of a young lady, clenching Morgan's arm fiercely, surrounded by a bunch of jocks. He checked the caption. "Alex McHugh?"

"Excitement off the field," said Sarah, reading further down.

"You asked us to watch over her," said Morgan.

"You knew about her, Bartowski?"

"She was in Prince's phone," said Chuck, as Sarah took the tablet. "We found the file after we took off. I needed a third team, someone I could trust, who wouldn't stick out at UCLA."

"A good plan," said Morgan. "Devon was good cover, but we needed a lot of help. He and his frat brothers ran interference."

"Who was calling the plays?" asked Casey.

"I was," said Morgan. "Bits and pieces from the games I've played."

"'Brilliant'…'daring'…'Innovative'," said Sarah, reading off the report. "'Death-defying'?"

"The scaffolding on the North side," said Morgan. "Fear is the mind-killer."

"You put my daughter in danger?" growled Casey.

"She was already in danger. Death was behind us," said Morgan. "It was the safer choice."

"I'll give you a safer choice," said Casey, raising his fist.

Chuck lifted a hand, and Casey stopped. "Morgan," said Chuck, "What happened to the laudanol?"

A/N2 Kind of clunky, but I'm glad to be rid of this episode. I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.