A/N From here on out I'll br doing things a little differently. The wedding is cvoming up in the last episode, so i have 4 episodes left to do five episodes worth of story. Fortunately the next three episodes, Role Models, Tooth, and Living Dead, are a little light in the story department, so I'll be combining their elements, crunching three episodes down to two. At least that's the plan for right now.

"I guess she had a lot to get back to."

"You hungry?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Her father's name is Alex Coburn."

"Well, this is a refreshing change," said General Beckman, smiling as much as she ever did. "Everyone is here, on time, and awake, in spite of the early hour. My apologies for that."

"Thank you, General," said Chuck, "And I think I speak for all of us here—well, here in a globally connected, networking sort of way—" He waved his hands at all the insets on his monitor.

Sarah cut in. "I think what Chuck's trying to say, General…"

"Is that we're all glad to be back," said Carina.

"Can we please get down to business?" asked Casey.

Beckman glanced at Ellie's window, saw her stifling a smile, just as she was."Well, if your team works as well against the Ring as it does asking a simple question, we should have the war won in no time. To get down to business, Colonel, we have what appears to be a rogue team in possession of some critical software."

"Appears, General?"

"Exactly, Agent Carmichael."

Sarah winced. "General, may I respectfully request that that identity be retired?"

Beckman sighed. "Within these walls—yes Chuck, I'm aware the walls are virtual—within them, yes, but to the world at large Agent Charles Carmichael is alive and well. As soon as he can be retired, I'll be more than willing to let his wife go with him. Talk to Ellie if you want to speed up the process."

Sarah settled. "Thank you, General."

"Coincidentally, the team that appears to have gone rogue is also husband and wife. Craig and Laura Turner." Two pictures expanded to occupy the center of the screen, an older couple, their faces showing all the signs of long and hard careers.

"Never heard of 'em," said Casey.

"Of course not, Colonel," said Beckman, a little miffed at the interruption. "This team has been our go-to team of operatives for over thirty years, but never under those names. Perhaps you know them better as George and Bitsy Witherspoon, or John and Suzie Smythe, or any of a number of others?" More photos appeared, obviously the same couple, but from younger and apparently happier days.

"I've heard of them," said Casey.

"So have I," said Sarah.

"Then you'll understand why I need to know why such an exemplary team of agents appears to have stolen the very software they were tasked to acquire for us."

"You think the Intersect can find them, General?"

"No, Chuck, you have a backlog of work on your plate, and the Turners are far too clever to appear on any grid. Fortunately, their target, Otto von Vogel, the creator of the software, is less clever. We're tracking him to DC, and we suspect he is in pursuit of the Turners himself. Your team will follow him to apprehend them."

"Will this require the whole team, General?"

She gave him a curious frown. "Why do you ask, Chuck?"

He didn't look at Sarah."We had a bit of a pingback from an earlier mission a little while ago. I got a phone call from Morgan, asking for information about a man on behalf of that man's daughter."

Casey sneered. "If he thinks telling some Ring princess her father's a scum-of-the-earth traitor is going to help him get into her pants, he's even dumber than I ever thought he was."

"Actually, Casey, her father died with honor, Honduras, 1989." Chuck watched Casey's face. "All she wants are the circumstances surrounding that death." A picture appeared on the monitor, an FBI ID photo. "Her name is Alex McHugh, an FBI trainee. Her father is Alex Coburn." He shifted his gaze to his superior's window. "Mr. Coburn's name came up during another mission, General, but his records are sealed and the Inter—"

Casey spoke suddenly. "I'll take this one, General, if that's all right with you?"

Beckman was surprised, but had learned years before never to show it, pretending instead to consider the offer. "I have no objections at this time, Colonel, but the Vogel operation takes precedence. If Agents Miller and Bartowski need you, I expect you to respond."

"I will, General."

Beckman nodded, and left the meeting.

"And Casey, remember, this is a low-profile assignment. Morgan is the contact."

Casey smiled, or maybe he snarled, it was hard to tell. "Oh, believe me, Bartowski, I have every intention of going through Morgan."

Chuck sat staring at the monitor after everyone disappeared, eyes wide. "Did I just make a horrible mistake?"

Sarah thought a second. "Well, I'm having trouble finding a positive spin for it."

He turned his look on her, unchanged. "But I did the right thing, though, didn't I?"

She patted his hand. "Of course you did, that's why it feels like a horrible mistake right now. Real horrible mistakes usually take a while to feel that way." She stood, and he followed. "My advice, ask Ellie, she's good with that."

"Right." He took a deep breath, settled down. "Right. I'll go do that." He got his coat.

"Um, Chuck?"

"Yes?"

"You remember we only put on our shirts for the meeting, right?"

He looked down at himself, still in pajamas below the waist. "Oh yeah."

Carina was grumpy all the way to the airport, and it wasn't just the traffic, either. "You know, your husband is a real spoilsport, dropping that Coburn thing right at the end like that. I didn't have a single snarky line ready to go. These things take preparation, a little heads-up would've been nice."

"You handcuffed him to the bed in his underwear, Carina, that should be snark enough for three lifetimes." Not that Chuck had said anything about Casey, but he didn't have to in that crowd.

"Says the woman who took a picture of it. You could at least have sent me a copy."

"That's not snark, that's blackmail. Sharing it sort of defeats the purpose."

"Oh." Carina looked enlightened. "Is that how you and Chuck, uh…?"

"You're kidding, right? A picture of him in his underwear, cuffed to a bed, isn't about to make a man like Casey turn away from his duty." Otherwise she'd have done it right away. "There's only one thing in the universe powerful enough to pull that off."

Carina laughed. "Use the Force, Chuck."

"Oh my god, he's gotten to you too." He used his bedbug mind powers, or whatever they were called.

Carina shook her head. "Blame it on Martin." 'Upping her nerd cred', he'd called it. They hadn't gotten around to seeing the third movie, or was it the sixth, and now they never would.

"Morgan."

Suddenly Carina was sick of that game. "Whatever." She dropped her head, grumbling.

"What was that?"

"I said, I hope she doesn't hurt him too."

"It's not Alex hurting him you should be worried about."

"Of course you did the right thing, Chuck," said Ellie, sounding utterly blasé as she made her notes. "Casey's not going to hurt anyone."

Chuck paused buttoning his shirt. "Hello? Long-lost daughter?" He held up one hand. "Morgan?" He held up the other.

"'Long-lost' sort of implies he knew about her before he found her, which he only did because of Morgan." Her implication being that Casey would be fair about it, not always a safe assumption. "And since he didn't find her before she became an FBI trainee, I don't think who she dates is any of his business."

Chuck spread his arms."Casey has a rather…expansive view of what's his business, El." He's a Colonel. He's in the NSA. "He's a Marine."

Ellie sat back and smiled up at him. "Well, if she really is his daughter, maybe she'll have an equally expansive view of what's not." She made a fist. "You did the right thing, little brother, you always do. You make me so proud." She yawned, spoiling the moment.

"Late night, sis?"

She meant to only nod, but somehow a contented smile and soft mewling sound came along for the ride. Both of them turned bright red. Ellie suddenly found something important to do that required a complete focus on her screen.

Chuck started backing away. "I'm…gonna go to the little Intersect's room, sis, be right back."

Ellie didn't look up. "Just give me a call when you're ready for upload," she said, perfectly content to wait until the afternoon to look her brother in the eyes again. She still had that damn Carmichael report to finish, and the General should at least hear Manoosh's idea.

"Grimes!"

Chef Morgan turned his head, but the pancakes needed flipping so he didn't turn the rest of him. "Casey? What are you doing here?" Back to his business.

Casey grunted. "I came for the waffles, I hear they're to die for."

Morgan smiled down on his masterpieces. "Really?"

"No. You asked a question this morning, and I'm here to find out if you should be allowed to know the answer."

That made him turn. "It's not my answer, it's Alex' answer." His face fell. "Come on, Casey. Don't leave her to suffer just because you don't like me!"

Casey smiled. One down. "What makes you think I don't like you?"

Morgan started counting off his fingers. "You snarl at me, hit me, you call me idiot all the time…"

"I do that to everyone, Grimes, or hadn't you noticed. I don't do any of those things to people I don't like. I just put a bullet between their eyes and go out for a late snack." He looked past Morgan. "You know, speaking as something of a pancake connoisseur, I have to say those look pretty good."

Morgan grinned. "You want some?"

He was testing Morgan. It was his duty. That's the ticket. "It's not too much trouble?"

"For a friend like you, Casey, never!" Morgan leaned a bit closer. "But you'll have to come inside, I'm only supposed to cook for the guests."

"I don't want to get you in any trouble."

"No trouble, Casey. You'll be my guest. The Chef's Table is a time-honored tradition in all the fine dining establishments."

Test passed. Casey pushed through the flap. "It's a B&B, nimrod." Not that he didn't sit himself promptly down.

Morgan poured more batter. "Gotta start somewhere. Today a B&B, tomorrow, uh, some famous restaurant somewhere!"

"Is that the best you can do?"

"I'm working on it, Casey. Maybe if you guys would stop dragging me to these award ceremonies I could make some progress on my career path."

Casey sat, watching Morgan putter in his domain. He certainly seemed to know knew his business, although why he put on a new waffle when no new orders had come in Casey didn't know. He'd never been a big fan of waffles, for some reason. The bearded troll was taking his time over this one, too, but not so much that he didn't get his pancakes perfect too.

Sarah yawned, which made Carina yawn. "Damn it, Blondie, stop doing that!"

"Sorry," said Sarah, not sounding at all sorry. "Late night." She resumed her surveillance, a slight smile on her lips.

Carina smirked. "If you need any tips in learning how to pace yourself, you know who to call."

"Don't you think I rely on Casey too much already?"

Ohmigod, brain bleach! "And stop doing that even more!"

Sarah continued looking out the window. "Just torturing you on my husband's behalf."

Carina took the binoculars. "He can get his licks in anytime he wants."

"He'd better not."

Not so funny now, is it, Blondie? "Plane."

Sarah got out the camera, ready to take some pictures to send to Chuck.

Casey was about to pour on the syrup when Morgan took it from his hands. The little guy went to his refrigerator and brought out a little jug.

"Special stock," he whispered.

Real Vermont maple syrup, Casey knew what the good stuff tasted like.

Someone came to the window. "Hi, Morgan."

He grinned. "Hey, Alex, I mean, Miss McHugh. Got your waffle right here." He lifted his little piece of artistry to the window ledge, and offered her the little jug.

She gave him a slight frown. "Morgan, I've told you before, I'll use the regular stuff. Especially in front of witnesses." She nodded towards the chef's table, and its occupant. "Hi Mr. Casey. How's your friend?"

Casey's watch started beeping. "Nuts!"

Alex and Morgan watched as he abandoned his breakfast and ran out the door.

"What'd I say?"

The screen spiked and the speaker groaned. "Chuck, what's the matter?" asked Ellie.

"Oh, this really hurts," he muttered. "These flashes hurt a lot, Ellie."

She noted the time. "What did you flash on?"

"Sarah sent me some pictures, the usual bad guys, except that this one's got a Bengal tiger on a leash!"

A/N2 Oh my gosh, is the Intersect finally becoming...unstable?