A/N Okay, back to Chuck. I had a deadline looming for a short story that I'd been asked to do for an SF magazine, so I took a little break to get that done. Hopefully some of you missed this story, but with all the chapters that came out this week, probably not. The SF story was a spooky and creepy type of story, too, so this chapter is all banter-y and comic. Sorry about that.

I tried, but it's just too hard to respect Shaw in this section. He's so blatantly self-destructive, and insulting to Sarah to boot, just dropping her for a chance to die for his dead wife. Chuck and Sarah get a chance to be snarky for a bit, at his expense.

"You sound like a stalker."

"They were a pretty intense couple of hours."

"I'm not loving this plan."

"He's gonna blow the op."

Morgan heard someone coming, and stood up next to the fountain. When Devon came into the courtyard he asked, "Hey, how was date night?"

"Uh, an exciting opener," said Devon, "Good follow-through, and I think a strong finish." He looked behind him, at the arched entrance.

Ellie marched into the space. "Morgan, I need to talk to you."

"Okay, maybe not as strong as I thought…"

Morgan raised a hand to his chest. "Wait a minute, I think I just felt a surge of adrenaline. My heart literally skipped a beat." He looked at the heart surgeon in the room. "Why would it do that?"

"I'll tell you later," said Devon, a little glumly, "Once you're finished talking to my wife." He reached into his pocket for the keys, turning toward their apartment.

"No, no," said Ellie, reaching out a hand to grab Devon, not that he was in her reach. "You too, Devon. Over here."

Devon obediently lined up with Morgan. Neither of them looked like they had any idea what was going on.

Ellie glared equally at both of them. "All right, both of you. I want some answers."

Inside the casa de Casey…

The Colonel was in the middle of his report to the General when he saw the lineup. He looked out the front window at the dressing-down in the courtyard, reaching out to turn up the gain on his mikes, but there was only air under his fingers. He opened the window, hoping no one out there would notice. With Hurricane Ellie in their faces that seemed a safe bet.

He listened to Ellie with one ear and Beckman with the other. "What's the matter, Colonel?"

"General, we might have a problem…"

Outside…

Morgan raised a hand. "Um, I'd like to buy a question, Alex?"

"Dude, that's, like, two different game shows," muttered Devon.

"Save it," said Ellie. "I want the truth. You two have been giving me a song and dance for days. Tell me everything, starting with what happened tonight."

"Tonight?" asked Morgan. "Well, I went over to talk to Alex, Ellie, that was your i–"

"Not your tonight, Morgan," said Ellie, looking like she regretted having called him on the carpet. "Our tonight."

Morgan managed to look enlightened and confused at the same time. "Oh. I don't know."

"I know you don't, Morgan. Devon? And if you say 'I don't know' I swear I will pick up Morgan and beat you to death with him."

Morgan lifted his hand again. "Another adrenaline spurt, there. Ellie, you know I'm kind of squishy, right?"

"Devon's about to find out."

Devon held up his hands in placation. "It was just a mugging."

"Oh, a mugging," said Ellie, nodding. "It sure looked like a mugging, didn't it? Except for that third guy, lying in wait, making their victim stop, talking to him. Not robbing him. Pretty strange behavior for a mugging, don't you think?"

Morgan slapped his hand on Devon's chest. "I got this one." He looked at Ellie and said, "Yes."

"Thank you, Morgan."

"Yeah, thanks, Morgan," grumbled Devon.

Ellie ignored that, if she even heard it. "Let's not forget the two guys who came out of nowhere in ski masks, and where have we seen those before?"

"Ski masks?" asked Morgan. "In LA?"

"Seriously, dude," said Devon. "Not. Helping."

Ellie pounced. "Speaking of helping, why don't the two of you–" she ran one hand up Devon's arm "–help me–" one hand settled on Morgan's shoulder "–to understand–" a firm, strangulating grip on the collars of the shirts "–What's. Going. On!"

Down in Castle…

"What's going on?" said Shaw.

"You tell us," said Chuck, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Sarah. "Last we heard, you were supposed to stay in Castle."

"I saw what you were doing," said Shaw, gesturing at the monitors. "Thought you might need backup, but you already had some." He tried to look disapproving, but just looked…Shaw. "Mister Casey was fired."

"Colonel Casey is an independent contractor now," said Sarah. "Or did it never occur to you to wonder why and how he manages to stay in LA on a Buy More salary? It's a cut above mercenary work, a favor to his friends, he's already in the loop, and he gets to beat people up."

"Not a bad gig, if you can get it," said Chuck.

"Clever," said Shaw.

"You think so?" asked Chuck. He turned to Sarah. "Maybe that word doesn't mean what I think it means."

"It does," said Sarah. "He's just not using it right."

Shaw ignored them both. "Did Mister Casey manage to get any intel on the Ring agent, before he managed to get away?"

In DC…

Beckman, watching surreptitiously as she had been forced to do for weeks now, pushed a button. Let's see how you like it. "He did, Agent Shaw. His description of the Ring agent holding you at gunpoint closely matches that of an intruder who infiltrated our morgue and retrieved something from the body of Agent Perry." She played the video from the morgue cameras. "I'll spare you the details–the murder of the attendant, the spray of her blood, the open tray, the device he used on Perry's body and where he used it–"

"I thought you were sparing us those details?" said Chuck.

"I am."

Chuck turned to Sarah. "Does that word mean what I think it means?"

"It does," said Sarah, patting his arm. "But not when Generals are involved."

The General involved said, "He obtained some sort of capsule. We believe it contained highly sensitive files."

"That's probably why the Director wants to meet with me," said Shaw.

"It's far too elaborate for that," said Sarah. "Is anybody else wondering what they want with him?"

"Not really," said Chuck. "Given Shaw's obsession over his dead wife, and after the wedding ring fiasco even the Ring has to know about that, they probably have some straightforward scheme to play on that obsession and turn him into a double agent against us."

"Like I would," said Shaw. "I'd die first, and I'd take them all with me."

"The man who killed your wife would never give you a clear shot at him without some serious blast shielding in the way," scoffed Sarah.

"I don't care," said Shaw. "We just need a bigger blast." He looked up at Beckman. "An air strike."

"I'd never get authorization," said Beckman. "Bomb an unknown location in one of our own cities? For all we know it has an oil refinery on one side and a day care center on the other."

"We could try to make them think we would, though," said Chuck.

"How?" asked Shaw.

Chuck handed him a little blue capsule. "You swallow this, and turn yourself over to them."

"A homing beacon? That's just what I was planning to do," said Shaw. "Why bother, if there's no air strike?"

"Because you'll also swallow this," said Chuck, handing him a second pill, much smaller than the first. "There's no way they'll let you get anywhere near their boss without checking you for trackers, so we give them one. If they're expecting an air strike attempt, and from you that would be a safe bet, they'll yank the big capsule and then take you to their base, thinking they foiled it."

Shaw looked at the large capsule dubiously. "Maybe we're moving a little fast…"

"Nonsense. That's just how the word 'clever' is supposed to be used," said Sarah.

"That's thinking like a spy," added Beckman. "Agent Shaw, make the call."

"Well, actually, General, it's thinking like a nerd," said Chuck as Shaw went to the block-box. "They did the same thing on an episode of Star Trek thirty years ago."

"You couldn't let me have just one brief, shining moment, could you?" asked the General.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," said Sarah with a smile. "You're Chuck Bartowski, the king of the Nerd Herd and a spy. Never be ashamed for acting like either one."

Casa de Woodcombe, post-interrogation…

"I'm sorry, babe," said Devon, handing his wife a nightcap. "I guess we went too far."

"Too far?" said Ellie. "No." She took a sip as he settled onto the couch next to her. "You went as far as you thought you needed to, and farther, and that's great, but you were going in the wrong direction."

He took it like a man. "It wasn't like we could come to you for advice."

"True. We're lucky you guys didn't end up in jail."

"Come on, we're not that bad…"

"No, but you're not that good, either." She put her drink down, taking his hand in hers. "If I have a problem, and I agree with you that I do, I'm not going to beat it by running away. Running away is a luxury that Chuck and I have never had, and I'm not about to start now." She stared down at their joined hands. "That guy recognized me, Devon. He knew my face." She picked up her glass and tossed the rest of her drink back. "But now I know his, and if he's smart he'll be the one running away, from all of us. You're a Bartowski too, now, Devon, you need to start acting like one."

"Tonight?"

"Yup. Tonight is a night for practice." She put down her glass, and stood up. "I'm your challenge now, Devon Woodcombe, and I expect you to take me head on."

Devon stood and swept her into his arms. "Yes, ma'am."

The next day…

The first step in Ellie's plan was to recruit her brother. There had to be something he could do, with that fancy Stanford degree and all those electronics skills.

As she walked into the Buy More she saw Jeff counting down. "Three…two…"

Lester waved at him. "You can stop counting, Jeffrey, she's in the store already."

Jeff looked up. "She is? I must have forgotten to factor in the tailwind…"

"What are you doing?" asked Ellie, who should have known better.

"We were slapped in the face," said Lester.

"But not like normal," said Jeff. "Our years of stalking experience were derided, vitiated, treated as a nugatory nothing…"

"We are demonstrating our worth," said Lester, who wasn't about to let Jeff get in more words than him. "Proving that we can stalk with the best."

"Can you now?" God help her, she actually sounded interested.

"Pick a subject," said Lester. "Any subject."

In the Orange Orange…

"Okay, I'm heading for the rendezvous point now," said Shaw, looking a little pale. They'd offered him a cup of the guac to wash the big capsule down with, but for some reason he refused.

"You're tracked and mapped," said Chuck. "We have your back."

"Just don't let me see you."

In the Buy More…

"Oo, there's a target I want in my sights," said Jeff, staring out the window. "The zombie-master himself."

Ellie turned, and saw the man from last night getting into his environmentally-friendly vehicle. "Works for me. Get him."

Jeff started to move, but Lester grabbed his arm. "What's in it for us?"

"He's getting away, Lester," yelled Jeff.

"You can play at my going-away party," said Ellie quickly.

"Done," said Lester. He and Jeff ran to get Loretta.

"I thought you'd decided not to go to Africa after all," said Morgan, stepping out from behind a display.

"I'm not," said Ellie. "That's the beauty of it."

Following Shaw's to the meet…

"We've got signal separation," said Casey, monitoring everything from his bedroom. "Uh-oh. Hang back a bit, Chuck. There's a third signal on-site."

"A third signal?" asked Sarah.

"Jeff and Lester," said Casey. "You can bet I want to know where that van is at all times. They're tailing the second signal. Okay, Chuck, it's clear now."

"What the hell are they doing here?"

Ellie's phone rang on the way back to her car. "Hello?"

"Condor to Base, we're tracking the rabbit to his hole," said Lester.

"How did you get this number?"

"You have to ask?" said Lester. "Your party of one has just become a party of five, and I'm a little afraid to be in the van with Jeffrey right now."

"Where are you?"

In the casa de Casey…

"You've got Shaw's car?" asked the big man.

"And the homing beacon," said Chuck. "Ew."

"Yeah, I see it," said Casey. "Okay, I'll have to drop off to remote your Nerd Herder home."

"What about Shaw?" asked Sarah.

"What about him?" said Casey. "Sending you his last coordinates now. In the warehouse district. Shaw's signal dropped off, but Loretta's right outside."

In a warehouse district, right outside...

"We've stalked your stallion to a dingy warehouse," said Lester, peering around the corner of another dingy warehouse. "It looks like a veritable wolves' den, a warren of thieves, vagabonds, miscreants–"

"Perverts," added Jeff.

"–Murderers, panderers, slanderers, philanderers–"

"Perverts," said Jeff again.

"A cast of villains right out of a Mel Brooks movie," finished Lester. "Do you want us to go in after them?"

"You'll fit right in," said Ellie.

"I didn't think so," said Lester. He headed back to Loretta and Jeff followed.

"We're clear," said Sarah.

"Going in," said Chuck. "It's a soda machine."

The classic elevator-disguised-as-a-soda-machine ploy. "That's old-school."

"No school like the old-school," said Chuck. "And the combination's in the Intersect. Be right back."

"You'd better be," said Sarah, to the static.

On the other side of the building…

"Jeff, what are you doing?"

"I'm diverting some fuel from this line, for Loretta."

"You're sure she can take it?"

"Don't worry, she can take anything." He patted the vehicle fondly. Fuel spurted from the pipe, and he tossed the hose into a drainage ditch while he fumbled the cap into place.

"Get in here," said Lester. "Somebody just drove up. We have to be ready to move at a moment's notice." Lester wiped off the side of the van, taking a deep, appreciative sniff from his cloth, before hastening to comply.

Down below…

Chuck left a trail of unconscious bodies as he sought out Shaw. Thank God for Duck Hunt. If he'd had to flash to shoot everyone his head would be killing him right now.

Behind the last door he found Shaw, laying on the floor, next to some kind of a stand with a flash drive still in it. Chuck pocketed that before trying to lift his…colleague, unconscious and heavier than hell. At least he didn't have to outrun an airstrike.

The platform lurched upward, driving Chuck to his knees, and he stayed there, letting the floor take some of Shaw's weight off his shoulder. One of the flash-bangs on his vest popped off when Shaw's knee hit it, rolling off the edge and falling down into the shaft before Chuck could grab it.

Once the platform reached the top, Chuck stood up, letting the upward momentum help him lift Shaw again. Once the flash-bang reached the bottom it bounced, the pin popping out as the explosive settled into a pool of noxious, foul-smelling liquid.

Outside the warehouse...

"I see someone," shouted Lester. "One man, carrying another. It looks like you may have been right after all, Je–"

Something exploded in the building, flames, noxious fumes, and dark smoke blocking their view of the staggering man. Shooting up out of the roof of the building was a plug of stone with what looked like a soda machine standing on it.

Arcing toward them.

Lester shrieked, "Run away! Run away!" and Jeff floored it. The plug of stone crashed to the ground right where they'd been just moments before, the death of the soda machine sparking off a second, much larger explosion at the oil refinery next door.

Sarah left her perch in the boarded up Kinder-Care center and ran across the street, certain she had seen someone moving just before the blast.

Chuck! There he was, staggering but alive!

She went to share his burden, and help him escape the fumes. Together they lay Shaw's body in the back seat of his car, and turned to look at the burning building. A brick wall groaned and fell over. "Well, look on the bright side," said Chuck. "At least they won't be following us that way."

A/N2 I really wasn't planning to use Jeff and Lester at all, but Ellie's new plot arc paved the way. Who needs an air strike with those two around? Please drop me a line and tell me what you think of this rewrite so far.