A Common Spy Problem

A/N: Sometimes a chapter just kicks your butt, and when life and an auditor join the party, it's three times the fun, but here it is, finally. Thank you for your patience guys, I hope the double teaser makes up for it. The good news is that the next chapter is almost done. You can find status updates for all my stories on my bio page.

Thanks to Nervert who took time from his holiday to beta this, he goes above and beyond. I've fiddled a little, so any mistakes that might have slipped through are mine.

Again a big thank you to every reader out there – this would have been a one-shot without your support. I'm also extremely grateful for all the reviews, not only because I feel the love, but they also help in terms of giving the story direction and sparking ideas. A while back I promised everyone replies and I've done quite a lot, but if I've missed someone, especially from the earlier chapters, please let me know.

I don't own Chuck.

Chapter 10

Sarah had a blast. She had almost forgotten what it was like, working with her father, the thrill of manipulating a mark, of being in control. But of course, after the money had been counted and the rocky road had digested, remorse would set in. And a few weeks later, the cycle would be repeated. She'd learned from an early age to compartmentalize, to focus on the task at hand and to not think about the consequences until she actually had to face them. The CIA was the same, and yet, the CIA was different.

The guilt only came once she bent down to retrieve the empty ice bucket. As far as her father was concerned, her conscience was clean. She was going to help him escape once they had completed the mission. After the stunt she had pulled to convince him to go through with the con, she owed him that much. But he had taken the decision out of her hands. Now she had to face Chuck, Casey and her superiors and explain to them that they were the marks.

And then the anger set in. She was a mark. Her father had let her down many times in her life, but he had never outright betrayed her like this.

Sarah was down in Castle, working on her tangle of emotions with the help of a heavy bag.

Chuck had showed up first thing in the morning, armed with chocolate croissants and some unexpected wisdom. His attempt at consolation had some success in showing her that what had happened with her father was not her fault. Surprisingly, it also revealed that, despite being so open, Chuck kept hidden those things closest to his heart. It meant a lot that he had shared that part of himself with her, and for the first time, she realized where he was coming from every time he'd ask her about her past.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her phone rang. She delivered a final high kick before answering. She was both relieved and furious when she heard her father's voice, but that was replaced with concern when Amad was suddenly on the end of the line. She returned his threat with one of her own while trying to locate the phone's signal. The call was ended before she could trace it, but he had given her a time and location. She had that at least. What she didn't have was ten million dollars.

After taking a quick shower, she changed into her mission gear, then grabbed two duffel bags from the supply closet, stuffing them with the biggest guns the armory had to offer. She added a couple of t-shirts to give the bags the correct shape. She wouldn't be able to fool Amad for long, but it would buy her some time. Knowing she would probably be outnumbered she decided against calling Casey. She had compromised the team enough. This was her score to settle. Her mind drifted to Chuck, giving her pause. She wondered if she should leave him a note or something. What if… Before she could finish the thought, he was there, rushing down the stairs.

"Hey, hey, Sarah. Look, I hope this isn't a mistake and the CIA has decided to compensate me for my numerous acts of heroism, but there happens to be an extra, oh, I don't know, ten million dollars in my ATM account." He managed to get it all out in one breath, clearly on the verge of freaking out.

"What? Why would my father put the sheik's money in your account?" Of everything that had gone down in the past few days, that had made the least sense.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, again, we're not so sure that this is coming from your father. I'm still clinging to the compensation theory."

Sarah quickly considered her options. "Leave it there." Amad wouldn't just let them go, even if he did get his money back and she was not about to let a terrorist get away with everything.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. It should earn a couple of thousand a day in interest." Then he noticed the bags. "What are you doing? Where are you going?" His enthusiasm over coming into some unexpected cash was suddenly gone.

"It's…"

"Don't even say personal," Chuck interrupted. "What's going on?"

Sarah didn't have the time to dodge his questions, so she decided to shoot straight. "Amad has my dad and if I don't bring him his money…"

"But you don't have his money…" he realized the implications of what she was saying and his eyes grew wide, "…oh, no, no, no, no. Don't even think about it."

"He is going to kill my dad, Chuck. I have to do something." She fixed her attention on zipping up the bags, feigning a calm she didn't feel.

"I agree, but what exactly? You're going in guns blazing and hope to take out a couple of terrorists before they kill you? Both of you?"

"I'll come up with something. Just stay here and if I'm not back by eight…" Their eyes met as the unspoken words hung in the air. It was more than she could take. "I will be back at around eight." Determined not to make herself a liar, she shouldered both bags.

"I'm going with you."

"No, you're not." She tried to sidestep him, but he blocked her way, grabbing hold of her shoulders.

"I have a plan, Sarah. Look, just meet me out front in five minutes. We'll need Casey and a laptop. I'll explain the rest on the way." Without giving her time to argue, he turned on his heel, taking the stairs two at a time. Halfway up, he stopped. "And if you leave without me, I will follow you."

He didn't have to make it sound like a threat for her to know that he would. "Okay, but hurry," she conceded. At least she had grabbed an extra pair of handcuffs. "I'll wait for you by the…" then she remembered something. "Shit, my car is in for a service."

"No problem. I'll get Casey, a laptop and a Herder. Five minutes."

Sarah watched anxiously as the scenery crawled by. "This is ridiculous. Maybe if you let me drive…"

"It's the car, honey, not me. Don't worry, we'll make it." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "I just wish Casey would stop tailgating us."

Sarah tried her best not to fiddle. She never knew what to do with her hands when she wasn't the one driving. In an effort to distract herself, she reached for one of the duffle bags on the back seat of the Delorean and retrieved a small handgun which she held out to Chuck. She had wanted to cuff him to the steering wheel to ensure he stayed in the car, or at least near it, but as Chuck had pointed out when he had filled her in on the plan, Amad thought the three of them were in on the scheme; if one member of the team didn't show at the drop, he might get suspicious. Chuck's plan could work, but she considered anything that involved him and weapons in the same vicinity, risky. She didn't want to take any chances, even if they had the element of surprise in Cop Face.

"Stick this in the back of your pants. Make sure it's easy to reach."

"Sarah," Chuck's eyes darted between hers, the weapon and the road. "I don't know how to handle a gun and I can't shoot at another person."

"It's a tranq pistol," Sarah explained patiently. "Just aim and fire, like you do in that game you and Morgan always play."

"Duck Hunt?" Chuck asked as he hesitantly took it from her. He leaned forward and Sarah lifted the back of his shirt so he could tuck the gun away as she had instructed. He straightened and shifted in his seat. "That is strangely…uncomfortable."

Ignoring his comment, Sarah turned to face him, her expression serious. "Chuck, if there is shooting, you have to take cover. Get behind the nearest wall or car, or me. And only use the gun if you're cornered. Are we clear?"

Shooting her a sideways glance, he nodded. "Yeah, but I really hope there's no shooting."

"Me too," Sarah replied, despite the tightening knot it her gut.

Amad and one of his associates were waiting when the Delorean noisily rolled to a halt.

"Sorry I can't open the door for you," Chuck whispered as they got out. Sarah shot him a small smile before a stoic mask slipped over her features.

They were halfway across the parking lot when Amad spoke. "That's close enough." Sarah stopped and Chuck followed her lead. "You have something for me?" Chuck started to pull out the laptop from its case, but Sarah stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Where's my father?" she asked Amad.

Amad turned around, barking an order in Arabic. Jack got out of the car, cuffed and at gunpoint. Sarah's anger intensified when she noticed the bruises on her father's face, but she resisted the urge to reach for her own weapon. Based on her quick recon, one henchman was unaccounted for, which meant they had a sniper trained on them, probably at their six o'clock. She was not about to start a shootout they couldn't possibly win. Instead she gave Chuck a small nod. He opened the laptop, propping it onto his arms while keeping it steady with his free hand.

"I have your money right here. I can wire it to you right now."

Amad took a step closer, eyeing them skeptically. With a nod of his head, the first gunman raised his weapon, training the barrel inches from Sarah's forehead. "If you're lying," he threatened, "I will put a bullet in her head." She didn't flinch, but Chuck's voice started to waver.

"All I need is your account number. Please. We're just a couple of bad conmen who got in way too deep. All we wanna do is give you your money back. Take it and let us go."

After a moment's hesitation, Amad lifted his hands and typed in his account number. Out of the corner of her eye Sarah could see the green bar ran across the screen. The computer gave a faint ping to indicate that the transaction had been completed.

"There, you have your money," Chuck gave the code phrase.

"Pleasure doing business," Amad smirked. "Now kill them," he ordered.

"What?" Before Chuck could freak out, a siren wailed behind them. Sarah used the distraction to slap the gun out of her face with her right hand while simultaneously shoving Chuck to the ground with her left.

"Take cover!" she ordered, and to her relief, he listened and crawled in behind the Crown Vic. In one swift movement, she had her own weapon drawn, aiming it straight at Amad. "Drop it!"

Casey had spotted the sniper. "Don't even think about it," he growled.

"You're outnumbered," Amad spoke directly to Sarah, "you shoot me, they shoot you…"

"And our snipers shoot them," Casey remarked. "That's a whole lot of unnecessary bloodshed."

Amad's eyes narrowed. "You're bluffing."

"Only one way to find out." Casey cocked his gun. Sarah did the same, tightening her grip slightly. This was not part of the plan.

Both gunmen on the ground bought the charade, slowly put their guns down and kicked them away. Jack gave a step forward, but Amad suddenly jumped to his left, grabbing his arm and pulling his own gun, pointing it at Jack's head. "You lower your weapons," he demanded as he moved in behind Jack to use him as a shield, "or I will kill your father."

The standoff lasted several seconds. Sarah knew she could take the shot, but she also knew she wouldn't. Her eyes met her father's and he gave her a slight nod. She had worked with him enough times to know what he wanted her to do. Shifting her aim, making sure she'd miss the bone and major artery, she squeezed the trigger. Jack went down.

"If I did that to him, imagine what I'll do to you." Despite her rapid heartbeat, her voice could cut steel. "Drop your weapon," she demanded again.

Amad lifted his hands in surrender, loosening his grip on the gun. Sarah took a step forward, but stopped when she heard a swooshing noise and then a body hitting the ground. With her attention briefly fixed on the henchmen that lay sprawled across the asphalt, Amad took off and jumped into the Delorean.

"Amad's getting away!" Casey looked undecided for a moment, but then kept his gun on the sniper.

"Not at twenty-two miles an hour, he's not," Chuck deadpanned as he got up from behind Casey's car, the tranq pistol in his hand. Sarah took it from him and unceremoniously fired two darts at the man still standing. Realizing that the odds were no longer in his favor, the sniper threw his riffle down and locked his fingers behind his head.

"All clear," Sarah confirmed and tucked her gun into the back of her pants as she rushed to her father.

"You didn't use blanks?" Jack grunted. "What's wrong with you people?"

"It's just a flesh wound," she assured him and helped him to his feet. Within seconds Chuck was by her side. Turning her attention away from her father, she asked "Shouldn't you call the cops about the car?" It might be a piece of junk, but she suspected Morgan did not see it that way.

"And tell them what? I want to report a stolen Delorean, license plate D-E-M-O-R-G-A-N? They'll laugh at me." Jack snorted, but it turned into another pain filled groan and Sarah applied a little more pressure to his shoulder. Chuck flanked Jack on his other side, ready to support him if need be as they made their way to the car. "I'm sorry I made her watch Speed." At that, Jack raised an eyebrow, but instead of explaining, Sarah just gave Chuck a wink.

Casey had rounded up the men Amad had left behind and had them tied together in a neat pile. He joined the group and grunted when he saw Jack's shoulder.

"Nice going, Walker, now he's gonna bleed all over my car."

Sarah redressed the wound she had sutured the night before and dropped the scissors back into the first aid kit. Jack inspected her handiwork. "Impressive. Where did you learn to do that?" He hadn't asked when she had tended to him the first time, as he was hopped up on painkillers.

"I've picked up a thing or two over the past few years," she responded vaguely and handed him the sling. Making sure everything was correctly organized, she closed the kit and slid it back into the closet. "I have an errand to run, but it won't take long. Can I get you anything while I'm out?"

"I'm good," Jack responded, testing his range of movement. Satisfied that there was no permanent damage, he caught Sarah's eyes and he cleared his throat. "Darlin', listen, I'm…"

"It's okay, Dad," she broke the silence that followed. They were never good at expressing their feelings. Hers always became apparent through her actions, his via short notes left behind.

After getting his assurance that he'd be there when she got back, and almost believing him, she headed to Castle for the debrief. It went as expected. General Beckman informed her that a team would pick up her father later that afternoon. She even sympathized, but what Sarah didn't see coming was Casey pleading her father's case. The scales were swinging and she was becoming more indebted to him by the day.

With a heavy heart, she re-entered her hotel a couple of hours later. Her father had stayed put, but he'd used the opportunity to pack. She ordered up a late lunch and they ate in silence. Her eyes kept turning to the alarm clock mounted on the wall. When Jack finally got up and gathered his things, she had around five minutes left to stall him…if she wanted to.

Jack Burton might not be the best father in the world, but he was still her father. Eighteen months ago she would have placed her loyalty to the CIA above that bond, but things had changed. She had changed.

When he draped his jacket over his arm, she got up. "Uh, Dad, can you get me some rocky road? There's a store around the corner."

"Sure thing, darling," he responded, the smile on his face evident that he was recalling old times.

Sarah noticed that another minute had ticked by. She knew that when he walked out the door, it would be a while before she'd see him again. The thought saddened her. In the past, he would just leave. There was no saying goodbye, no opportunity for a last hug or sentiment, but realizing that it was different this time, she had to ask.

"Why did you put the money in Chuck's account?"

"I needed to put it somewhere because I didn't trust Cop Face." It wasn't the exact response she was looking for, and though she could read between the lines what he had meant, she wanted to hear him say it. It was important.

"But you trusted Chuck?"

"I read people. It's the only real talent I got. One thing I know, that kid would never betray you. I made a ten million dollar bet that he loved you. Turns out I was right." Jack shrugged, but Sarah recognized the significance of what he'd said. He didn't trust easily, if at all, and though she already knew she could count on Chuck for just about anything, getting confirmation from her father was like a signed guarantee that she had made the right choice, putting everything on the line for Chuck.

When she acknowledged his statement with a quiet smile, Jack took it as his cue to leave. "I'll be back in a minute."

Knowing he wouldn't be, Sarah called him back one last time. "Uh, Dad? Can you make it a double scoop?"

"Sure, darling." He gave her a small wink before closing the door. Sarah stood rooted to the spot, letting out the sigh she'd been holding.

"In a while, crocodile," she whispered to the empty room.

The chilly November air nipped at her bare arms as she sent the police squad in a random direction, explaining that her father had just left. There was a slight commotion as the uniformed officers scrambled back into their patrol cars, but she barely noticed. A white shirt and grey tie were obstructing her view. Chuck didn't speak. Instead he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped her in it. She pulled it tighter, seeking comfort in the smell that was so uniquely Chuck. With an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in close as he led her back to her room.

Once inside, they turned to each other and Chuck's free arm circled her waist. "Tell me what you need," he whispered into her hair. His words threatened to release all the emotions she'd been trying very hard to keep under control, but she wasn't ready to let him see the worst of her just yet. Instead, she repeated her request for ice cream and Chuck was happy to oblige.

As he released her she attempted to give his jacket back, but his hands returned to her shoulders. "Keep it."

"I can grab one of my own…" she started to explain, but Chuck interrupted.

"No, I mean…keep it. I know strictly speaking it's not a letterman and it says BuyMore on it…" Sarah finally caught on.

"That's very sweet, Chuck…and not in a 'you're eight' kind of way," she quickly added, reaching up to thank him properly. "I'll wear it proudly."

Still dazed from the kiss, he shot her a smile before taking off.

She covered the small distance to the window, her fingers brushing against the cool glass as she watched Chuck make his way across the parking lot, knowing that no matter what, he would always come back to her.

Next time on A Common Spy Problem:

"Guess the excitement was too much for him," Chuck deadpanned as Awesome finally came around.

"The English Patient is a classic," Ellie shot back.

"Yeah, classically boring."

…

"I don't see how waking me at six thirty is supposed to…" she trailed off when his eyebrows started to dance up and down, making her stomach flutter. "Oh."

"Yes, oh," Chuck grinned and dove in for a kiss that ended far too soon.