A/N 4/13/12 - Okay, fellow Chuck fans, I now present to you Act 1. The prologue was intended to be the bait and hopefully this is the hook hiding beneath it.

I had originally planned on posting this story in its whole, as my primary motivation was to have a complete, cohesive, and polished story arc and to avoid having you the reader have to wait for the next act. But I became excited and impatient, and maybe a little concerned someone would post a story with a similar theme before I could get it done. That turned out to be unfounded, but it was also a powerful motivator.

The creative process was my primary concern about posting this story serially. Being an individual who thinks and works in four dimensions has made writing to set a scene and a timeline fun and relatively easy for me, but as real life man of few and sharply delineated words, writing dialogue was something of an obstacle and it has bogged me down on several occasions when I try to get myself into a character's head and make the dialogue belong to them while accurately representing what it is they are doing. We also know in this medium what a character is doing with their body language and expressions that are uniquely theirs, but they still have to be represented without overdoing it or becoming repetitive. That was and still is a steep learning curve for me.

Mac

I don't own Chuck.

Chuck Versus the Lost Years

Act 1 - A New Old Life

- I -

In the calm of early morning, a black car drove slowly down the suburban residential street. The low sun was filtering through the trees, dappling the windshield with shadow and light as its driver took in the ambiance of the neighborhood and studied the homes. Slowing down a little and looking out the passenger side window showed that the 'for sale' sign was still out in the front yard as the car pulled around the corner and parked on the side street.

The driver's side door opened and a pair of black high-heeled boots were revealed as they stepped to the pavement and then strode up the sidewalk to a side gate in the short fence surrounding the back yard. The yard was being cared for, but showed a lack of personal attention that announced that the home hadn't been lived in for quite some time. Although the lawn was neatly mowed, the flowerbeds were slightly overgrown and the many flowers growing in them had a wild and chaotic appearance. An open raised planter gave the hint of a vegetable garden that hadn't seen anything growing in it for a while.

Stepping through the unlocked gate and walking down the winding brick path toward the back door of the house showed a yard that was quiet and serene. The neighborhood was almost silent at this early hour on a Sunday morning with the exception of a few birds chirping in the trees and a small dog yapping somewhere nearby. The red back door to the house was set into a white frame and paned windows in the upper third of the door showed an entry and laundry area beyond it.

The bump key slid silently into the lock and a light tap on it with the pommel of the boot dagger was all it took to make the doorknob easily unlatch with a quick twist. The house was silent and the early morning sun was streaming through the kitchen and eating area windows displaying a kitchen with white and red tiles on the counters, white and black tiled floors, white cabinets, and porcelain fixtures. A high bookshelf surrounded the eating area that had a bay window on one side of it. The room had a nostalgic and old fashion craftsman charm to it.

Walking into the hardwood floored living room and looking to the right revealed a front entry area, a staircase landing leading to the upper floor bedrooms, and a crystal clear memory, a very painful memory of a man tumbling down the staircase. The boot heels tapped on the wood floors around the room as the view of it was taken in. Multi-paned windows flanked a fireplace framed in white trim and white crown molding surrounded the edges of the ceiling.

And then, there it was. Interestingly, in spite of all that had transpired here weeks ago, all the damage that had been wreaked on the house, it was still there on the wood trim of the passage between the living room and the dining room. A feminine hand gently glided over the roughness of it in a slow caress and paused on it, pressed firmly on it, and then slid down below it. Sarah + Chuck.

Sarah's head came forward and rested against the passageway frame, her eyes tightly shut and the edges of them glistening with the tears they were trying to contain. Her face was a picture of veiled anguish, her lips tightly closed and drawn into a line. And then the memory swiftly returned. And when it did, it was as if it was edged in jagged white light. It was a wonderful and tender memory, filled with promise and hope for the future.

A candlelit room and talk of each others fondest dreams and what they would do to make them be. How they would someday be made a reality. But as it blazed into her consciousness, she was suddenly overcome with pain; a pain like someone had snuck up behind her and stabbed an ice pick into her ear. She gasped loudly and spun around, her eyes wide open in shock, and then her back slid down the frame as she sat on the floor, her vision overcome by bright white flashes of light as she held her head in her hands.

After a while the pain at last passed, and she slowly and shakily regained her footing, staring around at the room with a look of bewilderment on her face. Sarah Walker ran from the house and back to her car and quickly drove away. She drove aimlessly around the neighborhood for several minutes trying to get her bearings back. Because for those several minutes she didn't know where she was.

- II -

Chuck stood in the middle of a large rectangular room with wood floors. Art Deco style pendant lamps hung at regular intervals from the high coved stamped metal ceilings on the top floor of the circa late 1970's three story office building. Columns covered in very ornate white molding separated the large windows spaced at regular intervals on two sides, and they gave the room a very open and airy yet stately appearance.

Those many windows were being modified for security and privacy, and also to create a more friendly work environment for the computer workstations and large haptic monitors that would soon occupy the room. The opposite wall on the long dimension of the room had white wainscoting that matched the window columns and it ran about five feet up the wall, which was topped by red brick.

There had been several very cleverly hidden modifications made to this part of the building, Chuck looked at them with a discerning eye and was satisfied that those modifications were undetectable. The wall also had white arched wood framed portals to two very large offices that were also lined with windows identical to the windows in the larger room they were now standing in.

The remaining wall behind them looked more recently constructed. It had a pneumatically operated glass double doorway to one very large room with window walls facing to the room they were standing in and an air-conditioned plenum false floor. The room was being filled with nineteen-inch computer racks, the cybernetic brains of Carmichael Industries. And lastly, off to one side of this glass wall, was a large arched portal opening connecting to a wide hall that led to other offices, two labs, and the large reception area.

The new Carmichael Industries offices were now right where Sarah Walker-Bartowski had originally suggested they be located when she had first conceived the idea to re-purpose the companies objectives, and floated the idea to Chuck right before that 'one last mission' where so much had gone so horribly wrong.

As they took it all in, Morgan, who was standing there the whole time with his best friend, asked Chuck, "So, do you really think purchasing Ronald Reagan's old offices will lure Casey back to work with Carmichael Industries? I'm not sure even this is going to be enough to pry him away from Gertrude Verbanski. Alex and I haven't heard a word from him in days. He's become something of a ghost lately."

Chuck snapped back to the present and pasted on a grin for his friend. "Knowing how much Casey worships Ronnie, this will at the very least entice him to pay a visit to the place, buddy. We'll just have to see how long that's going to take once he finds out about it."

"Has Nikki been able to locate Gertrude and him?" asked Morgan. "The two of them aren't even answering their phones right now. It's so obvious that they've got something really big going on between them. It conjures up thoughts I don't even want to entertain, I need some brain bleach now," he said, a grimace etching his face.

"Yeah, a big economy bottle of brain bleach, pal," Chuck laughed. "Finding Casey is priority number one for Nikki at the moment, and she knows it's very important to me. She'll find him. And when she tells him we've installed a nice armory and a twenty-five yard indoor range here, it won't take long for his curiosity to get the better of him," he added as an even bigger and more genuine smile spread across his face.

Ten days ago, after much pressuring from Diane Beckman about reducing his workload, a stressed-out Chuck finally gave in and hired Carmichael Industries' new office manager. Nikki Lawson impressed him immensely from the moment he met her. She was a perfect fit for the new re-purposed computer espionage and cyber security business that Carmichael Industries was transforming itself into. Nikki had computer science and business degrees from ASU, and a quick-witted intelligence and sense of humor that had Chuck's head spinning immediately.

Like that first day Sarah had walked into the Buy More, Morgan was just overwhelmed by her. Chuck had to admit, he would have been too, if he didn't see so much of someone he dearly missed in her. In spite of the way his heart did a flip when he saw her, he'd hired Nikki. She dove right into it, and was currently busy overseeing Chuck's schedule, finding Casey, screening new employees, setting up the new front offices, and arranging high-security broadband enterprise and satellite connections. Chuck and Morgan were now free to concentrate their efforts on the office hardware requirements and overseeing the construction of some special remodel projects for the new offices, not to mention new projects that were already coming in.

Chuck wandered over to one of the windows overlooking East Colorado Blvd. and stared out at the traffic and the activity in the panorama outside the window. As he did he became lost in thought.

After the attempted bombing by Nicholas Quinn at the Pacific Concert Hall a little over a month ago events had moved at a whirlwind pace for Chuck. General Beckman had seen to it that the Carmichael Industries assets that had been previously seized by the CIA were finally released back to he and Sarah. Also as a way for rewarding Chuck and his team for saving her, and over a thousand other people that night at the music hall, Beckman and the new Director of the CIA pushed through several very lucrative contracts for computer security and espionage work, and Carmichael Industries' business suddenly took off like a rocket leaving the launching pad.

It was decided at that time that Chuck would hang onto the ownership of the Buy More store and it would remain a cover for operations that Carmichael Industries was still conducting in Castle below the Buy More building. It conveniently fell out of escrow and the ownership had been transferred to a shell corporation, and Chuck had appointed Morgan to the presidency. Big Mike was the store manager again, and he was now being less than gently encouraged by his stepson to take a more active role in the day-to-day operations of the store. He seemed to be rising to the challenge.

The Orange Orange yogurt shop was now closed and in its place a small office front concealed what was now the main entrance to Castle. It felt very sad to see it go. But Morgan had practically lifted Chuck off the ground in a bear hug late last week when he and Chuck walked up to the offices and Morgan read the company name in gold leaf on the window next to the door – Cobra Holdings Corporation. He was ecstatic.

Carmichael Industries' close ties to the CIA and NSA had resulted in the decision to make Castle a satellite joint CIA/NSA substation again and the high-security lab for Carmichael Industries. Several CIA and NSA agents and technical specialists would now soon be stationed at Buy More, Cobra Holdings, and Castle. Chuck and Morgan had found themselves reinstated in the CIA as a result of all of this shuffling, and Chuck received a promotion to Station Chief status even as he remained a private contractor to the agency through his company.

He now reported to the Deputy Director of Science and Technology, and oddly enough the Deputy Director now even reported occasionally to him. It was a strange arrangement, but one of the several conditions that Chuck had demanded and received from Beckman and the CIA Director when the deal was struck. Only time would tell how well the arrangement would hold up, but so far in just the span of a couple of weeks dividends were being paid by the highly unorthodox partnership.

Nikki Lawson was one of the excellent things that came from that arrangement. She'd come to work for Chuck on the recommendation of Digital Dave O'Conner, the Director of Science and Technologies' 'Field Resources Unit'. Nikki had the benefit of full background vetting and the compartmented level six code word clearances required to work for Chuck, and she was helping to oversee the staffing needs for the new offices in Pasadena requiring similarly cleared employees.

She was also one of only a few who'd recently been cleared to know the full story about Chuck and Team Bartowski, and had jumped at the chance to work with the person whose field exploits and ability to hack a computer network had rapidly become legendary in the 'eyes only' Agency circles.

One of the first tasks handed to Chuck and his newly restructured company was ferreting out and tracking of computer trace signatures left by Nicholas Quinn when he was attempting to steal the completed Intersect 3.0. Version 3 was now in Chuck's brain. All because of the terrible chain of events that had led to him uploading it into himself after Sarah shot Quinn that night at the heliport on the roof of the Pacific Concert Hall.

The Internet cyber-tracks Chuck discovered that Quinn and others had left behind were uncovering some disturbing information about Quinn's ties to what was originally thought to be the shards of a destroyed Fulcrum organization. The group was believed to be decimated three and a half years ago in Barstow and other locations including Roark Instruments main offices. But the new evidence from these leads was now painting a picture of a Fulcrum rising from the ashes. A close relationship between some former employees of Roark Instruments and well hidden big players within the organization was being revealed, and all of them had intimate ties with Nicholas Quinn.

The encrypted and multi-mirrored Internet communication trails were pointing to a yet to be discovered hidden base of operations that Quinn had hidden somewhere in the L.A. basin. It now appeared that a race was on between Fulcrum agents and the agencies Chuck was once again associated with to locate Quinn's base. There were concerns that Fulcrum had managed to reinsert agents into the CIA, and this was hampering the search for Quinn's hideout and recruitment to Chuck's new team because of the threat it posed to operational security.

Chuck was focusing like a laser on this problem right now and giving top priority to locating that base first because in that hidden safehouse of Quinn's he was positive would be something that might be able to help Sarah, or possibly harm her more if it fell into the wrong hands. All of this new evidence, the fact that he now possessed the Intersect v3, and Sarah's departure from the company, and also apparently from his life, had helped to reinforce in Chuck's mind that he had made the right decision to reestablish his professional relationship with the government.

And just like that, like it seemed to happen to him at least a hundred times a day, he found his thoughts drifting to Sarah. He had seen her twice since that day on the beach over a month ago, and spoken to her only a few times on the phone - two of those calls to set up the only two 'dates' that they'd had. Every time he had tried to call her – and he was putting super-human effort into not doing that – Sarah's phone had gone to voicemail. Sometimes he left a message, most other times he just hung up.

She eventually called him back, and they mostly talked about the little things going on in their lives. Mostly, they spoke about what was going on with Chuck's business dealings that he could talk about because Sarah had yet to be reinstated as a CIA officer and he was prohibited from talking with her about most of what was happening with his business because of it. He'd been afraid to ask her what she was doing with their time apart, worried that by asking he'd push her away.

The Saturday after their fateful day on the beach he and Sarah had met for coffee and croissants at a small café not far from Sarah's hotel. In spite of five years of lost memories from Sarah's life, they'd managed to fill the time with idle talk for almost two hours. Chuck was beginning to see Sarah warm up to him in a way that reminded him of the Sarah from a time when they'd known each other for only a few months. When he was just a very important CIA asset, she was his handler, and they were involved in a 'cover relationship.'

He'd left her that morning with an increased sense of hope that maybe they could pick up the pieces of their lives that Nicholas Quinn had so callously torn asunder. But that hope had faded somewhat when she didn't call or return any of his calls during the following week.

Then Sarah called on a Friday out of the blue, and they talked on the phone until Chucks phone battery died. It had been a busy day full of business calls for him, and when her call came in he looked at the battery state on his phone, and his heart sank. As the phone beeped a warning at him Sarah had told him, "What did I tell you about keeping your phone charged."

With frustration, he'd defensively responded, "Hey, it was charged this morning, I've got a business to run, you know? And we're a little short handed around here right now, so I'm talking on this thing a lot more than I'd like to."

Sarah had to know that she was the reason they were understaffed, and he could tell he'd offended her some with his answer. His frustration with the situation was starting to show, and the call had gone downhill from there until his battery died. After he charged his phone he tried to call her back but the call went immediately to voice mail. It seemed Sarah wasn't going to talk to him on his terms.

Two weeks passed with only two short phone conversations during that time. Mostly 'how are you doing', 'what have been doing', 'how's the business going', that sort of thing. Chuck honored her request to not bring up the past and avoided telling any stories of the things they'd done together for the past five years. It made conversation extremely stilted and difficult even for a chatterbox like Chuck, but he'd tried to make the best of it, even as his heart was starting to show some cracks.

He kept trying to call Sarah every few days, but they always went to voicemail after one or two rings. He was running out of fresh material for messages, and he was starting to hear an emotional edge to his voice as he left them. Was it panic? He decided to stop calling. It was ripping him up. He wasn't sleeping or eating well. It was starting to affect his work, and people were starting to notice.

Then Sarah called on the Friday of the fifth week of their separation after he'd found her on their spot at the beach. Friday seemed to now be her designated day for Chuck, and he was now extra careful with his phone on that day of the week. Sarah surprised him by asking him to dinner the next night, telling him to pick the restaurant, and saying she'd be by to pick him up at 6:30. They went to the Chinese restaurant that they had dined at on their first 'real' date, the one that was abruptly ended with Casey's Crown Vic crashing through the front window.

This time, the date was uneventful with one exception that was eating away at the edges of Chuck's conscious mind. It was a pleasant dinner filled with stimulating conversation, and Sarah had shown a willingness to talk about the past, even asking a few questions about it. It felt groundbreaking, and he thought he might have seen some resurfacing memories from Sarah coming out of the small talk they were engaging in.

And then when Sarah cracked open her fortune cookie, she sat up suddenly stark straight in her chair and raised her left hand to her temple. His attention was instantly drawn to her startled expression, along with a fluttering motion to her eyes, and he froze in horror – did she just flash?

"Sarah! What's wrong, are you okay?"

They both sat there staring wide eyed at each other for a moment frozen in time. Finally Sarah let out an barely audible gasp and rubbed her head for a few seconds as Chuck jumped up from his seat and cupped her hand she'd been rubbing her temple with, a terrified look etched on his face, and he repeated himself, "Are you all right?"

Sarah recomposed herself quite quickly, taken aback by his reaction, and pasted a swift smile on her face in an effort to calm him. "Yes, I'm fine, Chuck. Every now and then I just have these instances where I think a memory is coming flashing back to me and it's just overwhelming. I'll be okay, please don't worry over it, maybe it's a positive sign that those missing memories may be trying to come back to me."

The word 'flashing' made Chucks blood run cold, but he did his best to return her smile.

Suddenly, Chuck was once again aware of someone standing next to him at the window. He looked over, and there was Morgan with a very concerned look on his face. "Hey, pal, are you alright?" Morgan reached up to place his hand on Chuck's shoulder, "Did I just catch you thinking about her again?"

Chuck shot him a melancholy smile. "You mean Vicki Vale?…yeah."

"I thought so, it's hard to miss, dude."

Chuck smiled ruefully at his friend, and then his expression became more hardened and determined. "Morgan, I think there may still be something wrong with Sarah, something we neglected to consider after we defeated Quinn. I need to talk to Ellie about it…and soon. We have to go to Castle...right now."

- III -

The black Lotus Evora pulled into the parking lot in front of the Orange Orange Yogurt Shop and stopped in a space facing the front door. Well, at least it used to be a yogurt shop. It was one a week ago when she'd last been here to talk to General Beckman. Sarah did a startled a double-take, her eyes falling on the sign next to the door – Cobra Holdings Corporation. "Hmm...what the hell?"

Climbing out of her car, Sarah strolled casually up to the door, sweeping the area with her eyes as she crossed the parking lot. She pushed on the door. It was locked. Now what? Go into the Buy More and enter Castle through the home theater room? She really didn't want to be seen by any of the Buy More regulars right now, this was a problem. She looked again at the sign. Something was familiar about this company name, something to do with Morgan Grimes(?). The lockset on the door looked like it hadn't been changed.

Oh well, it was at least worth a try. Sarah pulled out her yogurt shop key and tried the lock – it turned. She then pushed the door open and peeked inside. The tastefully decorated entry and reception area was empty, and she stepped quickly through the door and closed it. Then she heard the beeping. The alarm panel was located in the same place it used to be, and it hadn't changed either, so she keyed in her old code. When the system disarmed, a sigh of relief passed her lips as she started to take in her surroundings.

They did this in less than a week? Off of the reception area were two large offices and what looked like a small break room between them. It was a very nicely appointed office suite – in one week? She walked into the left hand office since that was the location where the entrance to Castle had been originally located. There was now a bookshelf covering the wall where the entrance used to be.

You've got to be kidding me, a secret door in a bookshelf? Jeez, Chuck. She closed the office door and turned on the lights. Now where did they hide the damn retina scanner?

After taking a long look at the room layout and mentally pacing the distances in her head she opened the office door for a second and mentally gaged the distance from where she was standing to the front door. Examining the bookcase she concluded that the scanner should be right about here. Would Chuck hide the access to the scanner from me? No, he wouldn't. Think!

She dug into her memory for a clue from the past that would help her find it. Frustratingly, at first there wasn't one. She concentrated, furrowing her brow… a bookshelf. Where had she seen a similar puzzle before? A fuzzy memory wrapped in bright jagged glass… the Stanford library? Sarah's head hurt for a moment right behind her eyeballs...she stood there with her forehead in her palm until it passed. Then she reached under the shelf right below where the scanner should be and ran her fingers along the back of the front edge… there!

Sarah depressed the barely perceptible button and a section of the shelf and the books it contained retracted and slid out of the way exposing a palm scanner. Yes! A palm scanner?

Taking a deep breath, she put her right hand on the scanner plate and was rewarded with a series of beeps as the plate lit up green under her hand. Then the center of the bookcase retracted back behind the others with a mechanical sound and slid to the left revealing the passageway she always remembered that led down the metal staircase and into Castle. Huh, we're going to have a chat about this, Chuck.

Nothing much had changed here. The main conference area was unchanged, and the conference table facing the bank of large monitors on the wall opposite the staircase was still the same, the armory was still where it had been, but the large computer workstation opposite under the stairs behind the conference table had been replaced with a very large clear pane monitor designed for a haptic interface. To the front of this huge monitor, arrayed around it, were three small desks with tall stools and nothing more than a keyboard and a mouse on them. Interesting, what is going on here?

Sarah, looked at her watch, and exhaled. She was barely on time. Why hadn't Chuck told her about these changes? Well, duh, maybe if you'd bothered to return his calls. As her gaze played around the room looking for any other changes that might have been made since the last time she'd been here, the large monitors opposite the conference table came to life. And there, in living color, was General Beckman in her class A's on one monitor and Douglas Shepard, the new Director of the CIA, on the monitor next to her.

"Hello, Sarah," the General and the Director said almost simultaneously with subtly curious looks on their faces.

They're using my first name? Sarah, quickly composed herself standing at ease and replied, "General, Director; reporting as requested. Thank you for this meeting."

"You're quite welcome, Sarah. It was an overdue one." Diane Beckman wasted no time getting to the point, her gaze boring in on her. "Sarah, have you seen Chuck recently?" Her question was more a pointed interrogative than it was a casual question.

"Why yes, General Beckman, I saw Chuck last Saturday night at dinner," Sarah replied guardedly, looking quickly back and forth between the General and the Director of the CIA.

"That's the first time you've seen him in well over three weeks, is it not?" Beckman's question had a very hard edge to it.

"Um… yes," Sarah abruptly stammered, "Chuck is doing very well. We had a very enjoyable dinner together in Chinatown."

"I see. You say he's doing very well. How can you know that if you've barely spoken to him in over a month?" Beckman inquired. "Did you actually listen to anything I said to you in our meeting last week?" There was a pregnant pause, and then, "How come you aren't answering his calls, and why aren't you calling him? You've certainly had ample opportunity to do so. Do the last five years of your life mean so little to you, Sarah?"

Beckman's tone had changed markedly from the conference she'd had with her the week before. Sarah was flummoxed, and she could feel her face turning pink from the questioning. She didn't know what to say or how to reply to them. Have they been monitoring my cell phone calls? Are they watching me? Why? Why is General Beckman asking me these very personal questions?

CIA Director Shepard then spoke, and his tone was plain-spoken and frank. "Mrs. Bartowski, we have been considering your request for reinstatement to Case Officer status, and my personal concern about granting that request stems directly from your memory loss of the last five years. I have questions about your ability to perform your duties because of it, the dangers it imposes on you and your colleagues, and an even larger concern about your lack of motivation to address these issues as they pertain to your personal life."

"My personal life?" Since when did the CIA start caring about that? And how do I rebuild a personal life I have no memory of? I'm still trying to figure that out! And then the memory of a dream about the 49B popped into her head, ouch, she winced visibly.

"Memory loss, or not", Director Shepard continued as if he'd heard her thoughts, "you need to confront the truth that you are married to a CIA Station Chief, and you need to do something about it. Your husband, Station Chief Charles Bartowski, who just so happens to also be the human Intersect, is incredibly important to our national security strategy, and we will not allow his performance in his duties to be compromised because of emotional issues. Either confront that or get out of Chuck's way."

He paused to let the statement sink in and then continued. "Over three years ago the CIA and the NSA made the difficult decision to overlook the obvious emotional attachment shared by you and Chuck because we realized it could lead to great things given the way the two of you functioned as a team. The Agency put a lot of effort into developing the two of you as a couple through active training and the assignments you were given. Now you seem to think you can ignore that history simply because an enemy has stolen it from you? Why would you give an enemy a victory like that? This troubles me greatly, Sarah. You need to look at the larger picture here and at least make some effort to make things right if you want us to consider your reinstatement seriously."

Sarah's mouth fell agape, "Chuck is a Station Chief?"

"That's right, Sarah," Diane Beckman replied, "Your husband accepted an assignment and promotion to Station Chief a few days after the bombing attempt at the concert hall. If you'd thought to take your undeniable relationship with him more seriously maybe you would have found out about it sooner," she said with frost in her voice. "He would have been made a Section Chief if he had not insisted on keeping Carmichael Industries a private entity. That is probably all for the best. Chuck is a damn good field operative and I don't want to see him stuck behind a desk like me."

Sarah just continued to gape at the people who held the decision for her reinstatement in their hands, and visibly began to wilt in front of them. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

General Beckman's visage softened. "Sarah, if you want to be reinstated in the Agency you are going to have to see a therapist before it's going to happen. It's obvious to both the Director and myself that you need to address your memory loss before we can authorize a return to active duty status. Starting tomorrow, you will be seeing Dr. Leo Dreyfus to see if you can work through some of these obstacles that have been thrown up in front of you. I think you may know why I have chosen Dr. Dreyfus to see to your case, at least I hope you do. I suspect Chuck has told you about him. If at some point Dr. Dreyfus and you decide that it would be beneficial for Chuck to also attend these sessions, I have no doubt that he will be there in a heartbeat."

In a heartbeat? Am I dreaming, or did I just hear General Beckman say that? Sarah sat down abruptly into the chair behind her. She was dumbfounded. Were General Beckman and Director Shepard implying that she needed marriage counseling? Did Chuck mean that much to these two very important people? It suddenly dawned on her that there was a lot she needed to relearn about Chuck Bartowski.

"Report to Dr. Dreyfus' offices in Pasadena at 0930 hours local tomorrow morning," said Director Shepard, in a tone that brokered no chance for compromise. "Directions to his office will be forwarded to your email account, but I believe you already know where his office is located. After your session with him tomorrow you can set your bi-weekly schedule with the doctor at a time that is convenient for the both of you. But, you will see him twice a week until a satisfactory conclusion is achieved. We're not placing a time limit on this Probationary Agent Walker-Bartowski. We view you as a valuable agency asset not to be wasted and we want you back. You're dismissed."

The screens went blank. Sarah didn't move from her seat there at the conference table for what seemed to her like a very, very long time.

- IV -

Chuck and Morgan quickly strode across the hardwood floors of the large room that would soon be Carmichael Industries 'Cyber War Room' then down a hall that was flanked by large offices and labs into the reception area of the office. The reception area was complete, and the décor was selected to match the architectural features of the building.

Behind a very large mahogany desk sat a stunningly beautiful young woman with short jet black hair that swept slightly forward onto her cheeks in a manner that reminded Chuck of Quorra from Tron Legacy. Aside from the color of her hair she could easily have been mistaken as Sarah Walker-Bartowski's sister. Although she was a couple of inches shorter than Sarah and more curvaceous of build; like Sarah, her musculature spoke of a woman who spent a lot of time in the gym.

Morgan without fail always melted in her presence, and she seemed to take great delight in it. Admittedly, so did he. There was something about Nikki, something larger than life, like his Sarah...

"Nikki, Morgan and I are going to over to Castle to place a couple of secure conference calls, we should be back in a few hours. Sorry to duck out on you like this, is there anything we can do for you while we're out?"

"I'm fine, Chuck, the break room is finally stocked and I have plenty of work to keep me occupied, so don't worry about leaving me here alone." She broke into a devilish, predatory grin. "We're expecting hardware contractors and office furniture people any minute, but I think I can handle a bunch of nerds and desk jockeys for the afternoon."

Chuck shot a toothy grin back at her. "Yeah, I think you can handle yourself fine in a room full of nerds. Though, don't hesitate to call if you have any questions that can't wait."

"No problem, boss, you'll be the first to know if anything unanswerable comes up." Which Chuck interpreted to mean he could expect to not hear from her. Nikki had quickly shown she was well beyond competent.

"Wait a minute," Morgan squeaked, waving both his hands. "We just can't leave Nikki alone here with a bunch of hungry tech contractors. I think I should stay here to defend her honor from the unwanted advances of the pocket protector army."

Chuck cast an accusing eye at Morgan and grabbed his arm, "C'mon, you're coming with me. I'm going to need the moral support doing what I need to do this afternoon more than Nikki needs your protection from a few more guys like us. Besides, I'm sure she's more than capable of handling just about anything up to Defcon One...and maybe beyond."

Nikki smiled at Chucks comment and looked back to the work on her monitor.

As they headed for the elevator Chuck turned around, "And, Nikki, if on the long odds Sarah calls here please have her call my cell phone immediately, it's very important. And if you get any news about Casey, call me right away about that too, O.K.?"

"Absolutely, Chuck; Sarah and Colonel Casey will always be a top priority around here, no worries."

"Thanks Nikki, we'll see you in a while."

"Bye Nikki", Morgan added in his best and most embarrassingly manly voice.

"Toodles, Morgan," Nikki replied with a wiggle of her fingers. "Take care of our boss."

As the elevator door closed, Chuck looked over at his glassy-eyed best friend ruefully, and said, "Mind Cheater. How could you do that to Alex?"

Morgan's jaw dropped as he stared back at Chuck.

- V -

The brand spanking new European model Porsche 997 went flying down the westbound lanes of Hwy 134 toward Burbank. It was one of only a few European models in the United States, identical to Sarah's old 911 4S Cabriolet in every respect except with metallic paint, and turbocharged, with a seven-speed hybrid gearbox. Chuck had only taken possession of the amazing car a week before. It was almost the same color as Sarah's Evora, a deep metallic charcoal black with a natural leather interior.

Sarah had made herself so scarce lately she hadn't even seen it yet. Chuck had at first bought this car in an effort to spark some more mutual common interest with Sarah and he was hoping she would even ask to drive it. She had insisted on driving her car last Saturday much to his consternation so he hadn't been able to show it to her yet. After a few days driving it he had decided he loved the car so much he wasn't sure if he was going to let anyone else drive it, Sarah included.

After he had settled into the groove in the left lane he pushed the hands-free remote to his cell phone and said, "Ellie". Morgan, who was sitting in the passenger seat playing a game on his PSP, shot him a sideways glance full of curiosity, and then resumed his game with a shrug.

"Chuck!" Ellie giddily chanted over the sound system speakers like she was in the car with them, "How are you little brother? We miss you, when are you going to come out to Chicago for a visit?"

"Hi El, I think a trip to the windy city is going to be out of the question for a while. I doubt that I'll be able to spare a single minute from work for quite a while. Things are going warp speed here right now. I'm sorry."

"I understand, Chuck, seeing as how we're working for the same people most of the time. Devon wanted me to make sure that I said hello for him if you called, and Clara misses her Uncle Chuckles."

"We miss all of you too, Ellie. "

Morgan piped in, "Hi Ellie!"

"Hi to you too, Morgan. How are things going with you and Alex?"

Morgan laughed exuberantly, "Things are going great! She's dragging me kicking and screaming into adulthood!"

Ellie returned the laugh, "Good! Because I think Chuck could use another adult around him right about now since I'm 1700 miles away."

Chuck rolled his eyes which was useless, he realized, on a phone call, "Thanks a lot, Ellie, you're a peach."

"Anytime little brother," she chuckled, "sisterly advice is what I'm here for." After a pause she said, "Speaking of sisters how is my sister, Sarah? We miss her too, you know."

Chuck's face waxed melancholy for a second and immediately straightened up when he saw Morgan looking at him. "The simple truth is I haven't seen her much, El, but she seems to be okay...when I do get to talk to her." No matter how hard he tried he couldn't completely erase the pain from the words.

The phone was silent, but Chuck swore he could hear Ellie's frown all the way from Chicago. "I'm so sorry, Chuck. No one should have to go through what you and Sarah have been put through. Both of you are in our thoughts, every minute of every day. I want you to know that."

A sad smile found its way onto Chuck's face. "Thanks Ellie, I really do appreciate that, and I'll pass it along to Sarah for you too when I see her. Ellie, Sarah is the reason I called. There is something I need to talk to you about, but it will have to be on a secure line. Morgan and I are on the way to Castle right now, and when we get there I want to set up a video conference call with you to discuss it. Can you pull yourself away from your research for a little while so we can talk?"

"Anything for you and Sarah, Chuck, I'll text the number to you."

"Thanks, El. Put on your game face, General Beckman will probably be on this call."

"I'll be ready, little brother." After another pregnant pause, "Chuck, is Sarah having some...um...memory problems?"

"I'm not sure what to call it, El, but I'm very worried about her."

"Okay. I understand. I'll be waiting for your call. We love you, Chuck. Bye."

"See you, El."

- VI -

As they pulled into the Mall lot the first thing Chuck noticed was Sarah's Lotus Evora parked in the space facing Cobra Holdings. There was a space open right next to her car, so he parked the Porsche next to it. As they climbed out of the 997, Morgan put his hands on his waist then rolled his eyes and exclaimed, "I'm telling you, Chuck, Sarah is just going to flip when she sees this car. You're not going to be able to keep her out of it."

"I hope you're right, buddy," Chuck said anxiously, and he glanced at the two cars as they headed into the offices of Cobra Holdings. "We'll see. Right now, it seems like I need all the help I can get..." His voice trailed off with a sigh.

"Trust me. This is gonna work, Chuck."

"It's only a car, Morgan..."

They unlocked and entered the front door to the office, and as they were crossing the reception area, the door to the security office opened, and out walked Sarah.

They all froze in their tracks.

Chuck looked square at Sarah and his eyes narrowed. He could tell right away that something was wrong. She had a guarded and pensive expression on her face, and her body looked like it was wound up like a spring. But at the same time, she looked like she was on the verge of collapse. This was not normal under any circumstances for the Sarah that Chuck knew so well, and he was immediately and overwhelmingly troubled by her appearance.

"Sarah..."

It must have showed on his face, because Sarah suddenly adjusted herself as a tight contained smile came across her face. Instantly, she was Agent Walker, back in control. "Hello boys. How have you been? Or should I address you as Station Chief Bartowski and Operative Grimes?"

They all stood there for a moment considering that greeting. And finally Morgan broke the silence, "Sarah, we've really missed you around here, and at the Casa, too. Alex has also been asking about you."

Sarah's eyes fell on Morgan, and for a second she looked like she might say something, but then she shifted her gaze back to Chuck. The look she cast his way was hard to read, like she wanted to say something important but wasn't sure how to voice the words, or if she could say the words in Morgan's presence.

"Hi, Chuck. I've been meaning to call you," she at last said pensively.

Morgan and Chuck exchanged a quick glance - the unspoken bro-code. "I'm going down to Castle. I think I hear a grape soda calling me," Morgan hastily said, "I'll see you in a few minutes, Chuck. See you, Sarah."

Sarah just nodded to Morgan with a subtle look of gratitude in her eyes before he hurried to the Castle entrance and disappeared into the bookcase.

As the bookshelf could be heard sliding into place, and as an amused grin came onto her face, she said, "Really, Chuck, a hidden door in the bookcase? Isn't that a little like agent 86 and the shoe phone?"

Chuck grinned back at her, "What can I say, I have a fondness for spy clichés, Agent 99. Wait 'til you see the new cone of silence." And he pondered that question from her, because as he remembered, he was the one with whom Sarah had first watched a 'Get Smart' episode on TV. "Besides what self-respecting spy would possibly think to look for a hidden door in a bookcase." As the words passed his lips he bit down hard on the lower one in an effort to draw blood from himself.

Sarah saw his reaction to his own statement and smiled. "Remember, this possibly less-than-self-respecting spy has a fondness for edged weapons, Chuck."

"Yeah, believe me, I haven't forgotten, I remember what you did to your clock…" Chuck groaned in defeat, his shoulders sagging. "Damn," he drawled, "Two insensitive comments in two sentences. I'm on a roll. Sorry about that. I assume you still found your way into Castle?"

"Yes, I remembered enough to find the hidden switch to access the scanner. What happened to Suzy?"

"I gave her a couple of weeks off. She'll be starting at the new offices when she gets back. I wasn't going to let her go; not after passing muster with you when we hired her." Chuck blew out a nervous and exasperated breath. "I'm sorry. You probably don't remember that."

Sarah's thin smile grew into a grin, and with a tilt of her head, her eyes betrayed the humor she found in his awkwardness with a glint, "It's okay. I do remember skewering my clock, Chuck. "

"You remember ruining your clock? Do you remember why you did it?"

"Part of it," Sarah nodded, seriousness slowly returning to her face. She wondered if Chuck really knew why she did it. How she'd almost run back then, too. "Chuck, we need to talk. I've been granted a probationary reinstatement into the Agency, but it's subject to completing a psych evaluation and therapy. Did you know anything about this?"

A look of defensiveness mixed with sympathy crossed his face. "No, I didn't know about it, but I'm not surprised. Diane has suggested that I should see Dr. Dreyfus about this chaos that's turned our lives upside-down. I've been seriously considering it."

Sarah gave him an appraising look, "Diane? You're on a first-name basis with the general now?" Before he could close his mouth to respond to the question with more than an "umm", she continued. "Dr. Dreyfus has been assigned my case. I've been ordered to report to his office at 9:30 tomorrow."

"I think I see a pattern here," Chuck reflectively replied. "Is everything okay, Sarah? You looked like you'd just had an encounter with a werewolf when I first saw you."

"I'll be okay, Chuck, but sometimes a meeting with the Directors of the NSA and the CIA can feel like an encounter with the supernatural." She forced a laugh. "I'd like to talk more about this, and some other things too… but right now I'm just exhausted and I need to get some rest."

"That's fine. You do look like you need to at least lie-down and relax," he said, trying to sugar-coat how frazzled she really looked. "Morgan and I were just about to have a conference call with the boss." Chuck could see the sudden curiosity appear in Sarah's eyes. "And yes, we need to talk Sarah, it's important that we do. Get some rest, and I'll call you when I get done with this meeting and tie up some loose ends at the office. Hopefully, the boss will hold her human form for the entire meeting," he quipped, managing to draw a smile from her that made it to her eyes.

All the time they had been talking the two of them had been edging closer together. Then Sarah reached out, grabbed his hands, and stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. It was quick, and it left Chuck standing there with a surprised look on his face. "I'll be waiting for your call," she said. And this time I'll answer it!

Sarah turned quickly and headed for the door, "See you later, Chuck," she said, looking intently at him over her shoulder for a second when she opened what she now realized was a bullet resistant entry, and then gave him a little wave and left.

"Bye." Still looking at the door, Chuck started to walk to the entry of Castle, a perplexed look on his face.

But, no sooner had he taken two steps, the office door reopened and Sarah stuck her head back in staring at him with surprised curiosity. She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder towards the parking lot, and said, "Was there an ulterior motive for this?"

He let a big sappy grin spread across his face. "Maybe."

Sarah responded with a very big grin of her own, "You are a very shrewd operator, Mr. Bartowski." And then she was gone like the Cheshire cat.