A/N Let's turn this episode sideways. Chuck has nothing to prove, Shaw has something to test for, and Casey and Sarah have something to do. They spent lots of time on this episode, it's pretty well written, but neither romantic nor funny. I'm doing what I can to add a little bit of both.

"I gave you a chance."

"No one needs to stab anyone in the back."

"No one important."

"This information is need-to-know."

Sarah stood up as Casey walked into the Buy More break room with a bunch of kids' toys under his arm. "What's all that for, Casey?"

It wasn't wise to surprise a spy. Casey would have shot her, but these Nerf sidearms had the wrong feel. "What the hell are you doing here, Walker?" he said, dumping the toy weapons on the nearest table. "Aren't you supposed to be down in Castle, keeping an eye on Shaw?"

"Shaw's been assigned to test Chuck," said Sarah. "A test that he doesn't want me to be part of, for some reason, and Beckman sided with him, like she always does."

"Let me guess," said Casey, draping himself with weapons, just as if he were a soldier going off to battle. "Chuck's little melt-down?"

Sarah wasn't about to call it little, or a meltdown, herself, but she nodded rather than get into the issue with someone like Casey. "He's got Jones taking notes, and God alone knows what else."

Casey tucked a dart pistol into his pants as if it belonged there. "Don't try to tell me you're surprised," he said. "You and I have been keeping the kid from melting down all this time, and it looks like Shaw finally figured that out. Stands to reason he wouldn't want you there."

Where she needed to be. Where she was supposed to be. "So what do we do now?" Sarah huffed.

"We?" said Casey, loading up a hand-made bandolier full of Nerf darts. "We are getting ready to take on the entire Buy More at once, for my sins, so I guess we should go back to the Double O and wait for a package from the General."

"What package?"

"Ever since Chuck broke the encryption on Prince's phone, she's had all the West Coast teams dealing with the fallout." The phone led to the house, the house held the computer, and the computer held everything. Vices. Secrets. Lies. Leverage. Blackmail materials of every sort. Unknown daughters. Casey ripped into another box of spares. "She had her best guys, well, second best, looking for a source. You were supposed to keep Superboy busy while I was acting on that intel, so don't talk to me about which side the General always takes."

Now she would be the one taking action. That didn't sound like Casey. "You just don't want me to stay and watch."

"That's a side-benefit," said Casey. "It's embarrassing enough to be me in this scenario." He locked and loaded his primary weapon. "For them it will be a lot worse. You know my passcode, right?"

"Reagan's birthday, backwards, right-shifted by two?" She put out three fingers on her right hand where the cameras couldn't see, in case someone should be listening.

Casey nodded. "That's the one."

Sarah nodded, picking up the last two darts from the table. "Don't forget these," she said, sticking them in his pockets. "The best weapons are the ones they can't see."

Sarah walked out of the freezer, into a blast of frigid air. "About time you showed up," said Agent Jones. She grabbed her pad and pen from the counter beside the register. "Daniel–Agent Shaw needs me to assist. You can sit here and deal with the crowd for once."

Sarah looked at the walls as Jones disappeared into the freezer, virtual customers flickering against the windows. Anybody looking would have noticed that those customers vanished without ever leaving the store, but the sonics kept most people from staying around long enough to notice. Movement on the register caught her eye, Jones going somewhere, the range or the dojo. Neither of which had cameras this device could access.

She checked the Buy More, but the screen was too small, the action too fast, for her to tell what was going on. Lots of green and white shirts milling around, no coordination at all. Only the customer rule made it even a challenge. Like Casey said, embarrassing.

She distracted herself, by using Casey's passcode to access his files, especially the collection of video clips he'd extracted from his surveillance over the years. Her, mooning over Chuck. Chuck, smiling at her.

Casey abandoned his high perch, its purpose served. Most of these losers had been down so long they'd forgotten how to look up, even if 'up' just meant the top shelf. He'd thinned the herd nicely, but for the last few stragglers he'd have to get down and dirty in the…carpet? That carpet? His lip curled in disgust. Give me mud any day.

Movement! He spun and fired. One of the white shirts, trying to play dead, but he hadn't 'killed' any white shirts yet. Still, he grunted his approval of the ploy. The ones who used customers as cover, especially the children, got no such approval. They got darts in unlikely and potentially painful places.

Naturally, the 'dead' employees were betting on the live ones. Casey might have been gratified to know the odds, or he might not. "Who's left?" asked Skip.

"Jeff and Lester," said Big Mike, the scorekeeper since Casey was in the game.

"Game over, dude," said Skip.

"Don't count those two lackwits out yet," said Mike. "They've got some dirty tricks up their dirty sleeves. They know where the mirrors are better than anybody in the store."

"I'm not sure Casey has a reflection," said Skip.

"Stow that talk, son," said Mike. "Whoever wins, you lost."

"They boxed him in," said one of the greenshirts, looking at a monitor. "He's toast."

Mike shrugged. "Or it's a trap."

"I'll bet on trap," said Skip.

"No bets," said Big Mike. "Those two fools already fell for it."

"What are you gonna do now, Casey?" sneered Lester, his thin body almost completely hidden behind a pole. "You've got two darts–"

"And there's three of us," said Jeff, crouched behind a display.

"Two of us, Jeffrey," said Lester. "But two is enough. One miss–" click-click "And it's game over." He pivoted out from behind the pole, racking the action on his gun. "Ha! Now, Jeffrey!"

"What?" asked Jeff. "Oh…" He started to rise, and a dart flew past his nose. Casey had seen the feint for what it was, but it seemed he'd forgotten to consider Jeff's Jeff-ness into his reaction. "He missed me, Lester!"

Casey lowered his gun. "Dammit."

"Game over, Captain America," said Lester, stepping into the open. "One dart and two opponents means no victory for–"

Casey's gun snapped up. He shot his last dart into Jeff's chest armor and Jeff fell backward over the display. With his other hand Casey threw the dart he'd taken from his pocket at Lester, right into his mouth. "I win," said Casey.

"Oo fibbon niffee nimma neft," objected Lester, pointing at his chestplate.

"Fine." Casey pulled the second dart from his other pocket, marched up to Lester, and hit him right in the middle of the target. The first dart shot out of his mouth as Lester bounced off of the shelf behind him. "Happy now?"

Sarah raced through town, vastly annoyed. Jones was taking her place with Chuck, while she was stuck doing a routine surveillance chore that would normally be Jones' cup of tea. Russian agent, swanky hotel, identify the mole. Okay, maybe the tea was Lipton instead of Earl Grey. The whole spa thing would take a bit of finessing, especially the sauna, and if this guy Zevlovski was any kind of Russian he'd be in the sauna. The thickest, fluffiest white towel wouldn't do either Jones or her any good in there. She'd have to hang around outside, disguised as a maid or something, and hope to get lucky.

That damned Shaw. Of all times for Chuck to be stuck in 'training'. Shaw could have stayed in Castle, nice and safe, and she and Chuck could have been having fun with the whole stake-out routine, just like the old days. She had notes about them all. Good times. Dangerous, but good. There'd be music, of course, Chuck would never let a stake-out go by without his tunes. Shrimp or caviar? The one had some history to it, the other was more Bond. Bryce would have been all about the caviar, so she had to go with shrimp.

Dammit, now she was hungry.

Down in Castle…

Jones was heading for the stairs, bag in hand. Chuck came out of the men's locker room, all suited up for whatever Shaw had planned for him next. She gave him a polite colleague-to-colleague nod. "Agent Carmichael."

"Agent Jones," said Chuck. "Going out?"

"Nothing gets by you, huh?" said Jones. "Just have to go get some…training materials."

"You know, Jones…"

She waited, but he seemed to have run out of steam. "What is it, Carmichael? I'm on a clock, here."

Chuck resigned himself. "I was just wondering if you would like to go to dinner, later."

She looked skeptical. "What's the matter, Walker's busy?"

"This isn't about Sarah." Chuck pulled out his phone, and hit a contact. "Sarah," he said when she picked up. "What do you think about me and Jones having dinner together, later?"

"That sounds like a great idea, Chuck," said the phone. "You two got off on the wrong foot, you really need to clear the air. Look, I'm kind of busy. You have fun and I'll catch up with you tomorrow." The phone went dead.

"Interesting relationship you two have," said Jones into the silence.

Chuck pocketed his phone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," said Jones. Suddenly she smiled at him. "Sure, dinner sounds great. Anyplace special?"

"There's a new restaurant down at the station, called Traxx," said Chuck. "It's supposed to be pretty good. The most special thing about it that I can think of is that I've never had a mission there. Which is good, 'cause I'm running out of restaurants that will still let me in."

"With your track record I can see why," said Jones. "Sure, Agent Carmichael. Tonight at Traxx. I'll see you there."

"There you go," said Big Mike. Jeff's picture, with its vapid grin, was down and Casey's attempt at a smile was up. "We'll have to put it back the next time you get a Salesman of the Month award. Corporate ain't gonna spring for two of your ugly mug."

Casey nodded. "Understood." The picture wasn't so bad, but the paper crowns on the corners were a bit much.

"Congratulations, Casey. Now get those toys cleaned up and back on the shelf." Mike raised his voice in a general bellow. "Alright, everybody. Show's over. Back to work."

Chuck caught up to Casey as he was counting the darts. His shirt was white, his collar was loose, his pocket protector was in place. The pants were a bit high-class for the Nerd Herd but if anyone there had been prone to notice things like that they wouldn't have been there. "Guess who has a date tonight."

Great. Now Casey was gonna have to start over. "You passed Shaw's tests already?"

"I think it is the test," said Chuck. "Shaw suggested it."

Not Walker, then. "Jones?"

It didn't sound any better coming from Casey's mouth. "Not sure what he's up to, there."

"Me neither," said Casey. "You be careful. Walker's running point for me on a lead. I'll track her down and send her to back you up. Try not to get killed until dessert." He swept the toys into a box and looked around. "Skip, how much did you make betting on me?"

Skip knew better than to try to run away. "Um…"

"That much, huh? Here, you count this crap, I have things to do."

Sarah was really too beautiful for this sort of thing, the best surveillance agents are trained to be unremarkable. She'd been trained to be alluring, and deadly. To make her unremarkable took some work and materials, which she didn't have in the trunk of her car. What she did have were latex appliances and ugly prosthetics. The sight of her beautiful face with a grotesque blemish, or those glasses, made most people automatically and unconsciously turn away. Mission accomplished.

It helped that the glasses would record what she saw. She verified the number of entrances to the sauna–one, which made sense considering what they charged to go in there–and left for a more remote station. This felt like old times too, the bad old times, before Prague. Her in a bar, Casey for backup, Chuck off somewhere getting into trouble.

Her phone rang. "Walker, where are you?" said Casey when she picked up.

"I'm in the spa," she said quietly. She didn't have to tell him which spa. "The target should be here soon, so get in here. If he and this mole meet in the sauna I'm out."

"They won't meet in the sauna, too much water, not to mention too public," said Casey. "Speaking of public, did you know Chuck and Agent Jones are going out to dinner tonight?"

"Yes."

"Did you know Shaw set him up?"

She was blinded, by his wit, by her rage. "Get here now."

Shaw looked up from his work, spread all over the main table in Castle. "Sam," he said, as she came out of the dressing rooms. "You look good. Like the hair."

"Thanks," she said, raising a hand to touch it, gently. "It's not my usual style, so I'm glad you like it. Believe me, I wish I was wearing it for you tonight."

"Your dinner with Chuck?"

"You know about it?" She'd hoped to keep it under wraps.

"I suggested it."

She tried to look offended, but her stupid hair bounced, ruining the effect. "What on Earth for?"

"I had my reasons," said Shaw. "Sit down, Sam." He waited until she sat and then sat right next to her. He leaned in close, almost…intimate. "Have you ever heard of a Red Test?"

A/N2 I got the idea to turn this episode sideways by talking to Grayroc, so all gratitude to him. How I did it is all on me. I hope you'll drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.