So I've been thinking a lot lately about what Carina told me when she came to visit – about how I had clearly fallen in love with Chuck barely a month into my mission in Los Angeles. At first, it made no sense at all – how could I, the super-operative from the CIA, have gotten so easily screwed up?

Then, when I thought about it some more, it made complete sense, at least in the context of just how I managed to find myself in love with Chuck again, despite having no memories.

With that in mind, I thought it might not be a bad idea to talk to the other people who knew both me and Chuck well, and see what observations they had. I decided that my first stop needed to be the person who had been Chuck's friend the longest, and who had been the most wary of me since Quinn had wiped my memory:

Morgan Grimes.

I called Morgan up, and asked him if he'd like to meet me for lunch. "Sure," he said, "as long as you're not planning on trying to kill me."

I could tell he meant it as a joke, but the tone in his voice made it fall flat. "Morgan, you have my most sincere promise," I told him. "Your life is perfectly safe in my hands."

Well, Morgan agreed to meet me at the Phoenix Inn in Chinatown at 12:30 that afternoon. I arrived at 12:15 – just by habit. I felt like I needed to make sure the area was secure.

Morgan arrived just as the server came to the table to take our orders. Turning to the server, I let loose with a rapid-fire flurry of Cantonese. He smiled and nodded, then walked away as I turned back to Morgan, who was now looking at me with a confused look on his face.

"Ooookay," he said slowly. "So, the only words I recognized in all of that were 'Diet Coke' and 'grape Fanta'. Care to fill me in?"

I arched an eyebrow and stared at Morgan. "Good to see you too, Morgan," I said, a note of mock irritation creeping into my voice as I fought to keep a smile off of my face. "I've been well, thanks for asking."

"Oh, gosh, sorry," he sighed. "I… I'm sorry, Sarah, I'm just a little nervous around you. I don't know if you're gonna go all super-spy on me –"

"Morgan," I interrupted him, "you'll be fine. I'm not going to hurt Chuck's best friend."

He relaxed a little, but I could see he was still tense, so I figured I'd tell him why I was speaking in a Chinese dialect. "As far as what I said, I was just telling him our orders. General Tso chicken and Diet Coke for me, sizzling shrimp and grape Fanta for you. And yeah, maybe I was showing off a li- Morgan?"

Morgan had gone pale and was staring at me. "Morgan, what's wrong?"

"It worked," he whispered. "It worked!"

I frowned. "What worked?"

The stunned look on Morgan's face was slowly being replaced by a giddy smile. "The kiss!" he exclaimed. "When Chuck kissed you on the beach, it worked!"

"Oh, Morgan," I sighed. "I hate to disappoint you, but it didn't work. I mean –"

"Who told you that I liked sizzling shrimp?"

"Uh…" I thought for a moment. Surely Chuck must've… nope, I could not for the life of me…

And yet, I remembered distinctly a mission that involved this very restaurant, which resulted in Chuck convincing a Chinese spy to defect to the United States…

I looked back at Morgan. "Memories have been coming back to me bit by bit, Morgan," I said to him. "I guess that just happened to be one."

Morgan nodded and smirked. "Didn't work, my ass."