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The New Old Friend

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah didn't know General Diane Beckman well at all. In fact before the incident at the symphony, she couldn't remember ever meeting her. She knew her by reputation only – pure, by-the-book military head of the NSA, intelligent and uncompromising, the very hardest of hard asses. No one could ever report seeing her crack a smile while on duty, and scant few when off. Knowing only this about the woman, she was disposed to respect her, admire here even. It was a hard job, requiring endless toughness, that the country depended on, and if the stories were true, Beckman was as tough as they came.

Then there was the matter of the rumored on-again off-again romance between the General and Roan Montgomery. It was something she was skeptical about, even after Chuck had confirmed it for her last night. She made a mental note to ask him what they'd witnessed that made them so sure it was real. It seemed more like the stuff of urban legend than something that actually happened behind the closed doors of the agency.

Logically, Sarah knew that Beckman had been her commanding officer for the majority of the past five years. Not remembering that, though, gave her a slight uneasy feeling, and made sitting across the table from the woman herself, remarkably intimidating despite her small stature, a mite uncomfortable.

True to her reputation, Beckman got right down to business. "Thank you for coming down here so early," she said. "I assume you're wondering why I asked to see you."

She may have known this woman for five years in some lifetime, but Sarah had decided the best strategy was to keep her cards close to her chest. There had always been a fair amount of inter-departmental rivalry between the CIA and the NSA, some of which had gotten downright nasty. It would probably be better if she didn't mention anything of what Eric Gold had told her about the Intersect project, especially since she didn't know any of the specifics anyway.

The earliness of the meeting didn't bother her. Besides being used to early and unusual hours as an agent, she was anxious to get the earliest flight home. She did have one more errand to run, but that was something she could take care of on her layover. It almost made her want to smile, thinking about how much she was itching to get back to Burbank, to Chuck. She'd never really experienced what it was to miss someone, until now, and she missed him tons, the feeling like a weight over her heart.

But she held in the smile, held it all in, and merely said, "Yes, ma'am."

When Sarah looked up, Beckman's reputation for never cracking a smile on duty was forever shattered. It wasn't a wide, toothy grin, but it was comforting. It was warm and friendly and it was definitely enough to stun Sarah.

"I have two reasons," Beckman said. "First, I want to thank you for your service. Your performance has been nothing short of phenomenal. So thank you."

"Yes, ma'am," Sarah replied, her confusion plain. "But five years babysitting a computer nerd?" Okay, even after just a few days with Chuck, she'd seen enough of him to know that he was more than that. But how long had it taken her to figure that out the first time? Even with the information she'd gleaned from the few reports she'd read on the plane, she had a hard time pinpointing the importance of the Intersect. It seemed more trouble than good mostly. "With all due respect, General," she continued, "that doesn't seem like a plum assignment. Was I being punished for some reason?"

Beckman reached over and grabbed a folder from her desk and plopped it in front of her. "That's the second reason I wanted to see you," she said. "I understand that your injury has caused you to forget much of the last five years. I'm very sorry for that. As someone who's seen what you've fought for over five years, I honestly hope you can recover soon." After a brief pause to let that sink in, she continued, "On its face, I can see how you'd think it wasn't all that important of an assignment, but I can't let you keep thinking that. I want you to know, Sarah, what it is that you and your team accomplished.

She indicated the folder with a gentle tip of her chin, and Sarah leaned forward to take it. When she opened it, she came face to face with a thick stack of mission reports, each one more glowing than the last. A smile grew on her face as she leafed through the pages.

"We took down Fulcrum?" she asked bemusedly. "One three-person team based around a nerd with a computer in his brain? After we've been fighting a war with them for –"

"Twenty years, yes," Beckman finished for her. "We've lost well over two hundred agents in that war. It took you two full years, but your team infiltrated their headquarters, had all their key agents report there, and we took it out with an air strike. Fulcrum ceased to exist that night. And it was solely because of your team, acting alone."

"The Ring?" Sarah said as she continued flipping through pages. "I've never heard of them."

"Nobody had," her superior informed her. "They were poised to take over the NSA, CIA, and the joint chiefs. Your team captured the leadership in a single arrest, and exposed the main internal conspirator. His name was Daniel Shaw." Eyes narrowed, she prompted, "Do you remember that name?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said.

"I'm sure Mr. Bartowski will tell you the details of that story, but you tricked him into admitting the plot publicly. Stopping the Ring saved the country from possible martial law. You're impressed with the Fulcrum success, but this was much bigger than that."

"Respectfully, ma'am," Sarah said, setting the folder down, "how could one team possibly have accomplished all of this? Alexei Volkoff? The Russian arms dealer, public enemy #1? I remember hearing about him in training. We've been after him for years, but no one had been able to lay a finger on him."

"I don't blame you for being skeptical. That's why I wanted to bring you in and personally show you the mission reports. What I'm trying to get you to understand, Sarah, is that if you took the top one hundred agents in the world and stacked all of their career accomplishments together, they still wouldn't come close to your team. You had a secret weapon. His name is Chuck Bartowski."

Sarah did a double take. If the general didn't have such a serious reputation, she would be wondering if Beckman was playing a joke on her. "Chuck? I understand the Intersect gives him some additional capabilities, but he seemed like a fish out of water. I was just on a mission with him, and, frankly, he wasn't all that impressive, at least from a spy perspective. Now you're telling me he was the perfect agent?"

"I didn't say that he was a perfect agent," Beckman told her with a hint of a smile. "Far from it, in fact. He's quite possibly the worst agent I've ever encountered in my career, and he's been the biggest pain in my ass for the past five years. I will spare you the full details of his insolence, but suffice it to say I've lived the past five years in constant fear that my phone would ring in the middle of the night and I'd be forced to explain the latest foolish thing that he talked his team into doing. Until the two of you met Bartowski, you were the best agents we had. John Casey was a stone-cold killer who cared for nothing but obeying orders, and you were Graham's loose-cannon enforcer who'd go to any lengths to get the job done."

"And after?"

Beckman paused to consider her answer. "It was the damnest thing," she finally said. "Bartowski took the very best field agent in the world and turned her into a doe eyed, love sick schoolgirl who would do anything he asked, including disobeying direct orders. Colonel Casey perhaps wasn't nearly as doe eyed, but he also plainly became just as loyal to him. It simply defies belief. If I hadn't seen it happen with my own eyes, I'd think they were pulling my leg. Time and again I saw you two commit acts that were insubordinate at best and borderline treasonous at worst. You became completely uncontrollable, all because of your loyalty to Bartowski. You put his safety above all else."

"Then why keep us together?"

"You're holding the answer in your hand," Beckman said briskly as she indicated the folder Sarah was still holding. "I'm not stupid. When the three of you were together, your record spoke for itself. The destruction of Fulcrum was a direct result of him talking you and Colonel Casey into disobeying my direct order. I should have thrown all three of your asses into a cold dark cell and let you rot there." She took a breath, and her voice was much softer when she said, "But you saved the country. Who could ask for more than that? Sarah, if you're looking for reassurance about your relationship, all I can say is I've never seen such a transformation." When Sarah's expression wavered, Beckman added warmly, "But neither have I seen such happiness as I did when I saw the two of you together. I know what it is to juggle love in this world of ours, Sarah, but you and Mr. Bartowski somehow made it easy. You brought out the very best in one another."

Sarah's heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. Even though it dovetailed with everything Chuck had told her so far, she could barely believe what she was hearing. Did her commanding officer actually just accuse Agent Sarah Walker of committing treason? That was such a hot button word for her, all agents really. All because she was in love? With a civilian? And the twinkle in her eyes plainly said that she approved, at least unofficially.

But she couldn't force a smile to her face. "I just wish I could remember any of it."

"So do I," Beckman replied kindly. "I'll not lie to you by pretending that I wouldn't love to have my best agent back. We could always use someone as talented as you. The truth is, though, that you've done more than your duty called for. You've given everything you had to give, beyond what we could possibly have imagined. Now it's time for you to heal, and maybe find the happiness you deserve."

Beckman stood up and offered her hand, an indication that the meeting was over. "Sarah, tell Chuck I said hello," she said warmly. "Tell him that my ass is almost completely healed. If he ever wants to be a pain in it again, he knows where I am."

Sarah couldn't keep the grin off her face. It wasn't the most appropriate reaction when meeting with a commanding officer, but General Beckman had just gone out of her way to do something very nice for her. She had just shown the personal loyalty for her team that many in leadership positions lacked. "Thank you, ma'am," she said as she moved towards the door. "I'll tell him."

x-x-x-x-x

Dr. Eleanor Bartowski-Woodcomb was not having her best morning of all time, especially after the last week she'd had. She was a creature of habit. Order and planning were everything to her. It was the only way she had survived putting herself through medical school while raising her brother. Currently, though, her life was anything but orderly.

Some of that loss of order was to be expected. Moving across the country was a disruptive event in anyone's life, and fully half of everything they owned was still piled in the middle of their new family room, packed away in moving boxes. Added to that, there was the brand new job, her husband starting his own brand new job, owning a home for the very first time, as well as dealing with a one-year-old who was only beginning to take her first steps and explore her surroundings. The result was something akin to pure chaos.

All of that was minor compared to her constant worry about Chuck. Their bond was one of the strongest forces in Ellie's life, only a tiny notch below the one she shared with Clara and Devon. She couldn't help but feel like she was abandoning him right when he needed her most, and none of his reassurances did anything to help. He sounded hopeful on the phone last night, but things were far from where they needed to be, from where they used to be. Ellie knew her brother well enough to know when he was putting on a brave face for her benefit. It was heartbreaking that, after so much effort to get those two kids together, it looked like they were right back to square one.

But right now her life was far too hectic to have the luxury of spending much time sitting around worrying over the future. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe, if she didn't agonize over it, things would settle down into a stable routine soon. Maybe she was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel this morning. Devon was at the hospital. Clara was just settled down for her mid-morning nap. Maybe, just maybe, Ellie could spend a few minutes unpacking some more of the moving boxes. A little each day, and hopefully soon she wouldn't have to rummage through a pile of boxes to find enough fresh clothes to get ready for the day.

However, fate had other plans for Ellie today than unpacking, because she was interrupted by a knock at the door. She sighed as she let go of the box tops and they fell back together. It was probably another one in the seemingly endless line of well-meaning neighbors welcoming the newest addition to the neighborhood. As the community feeling was a major reason they wanted to move to the suburbs in the first place, it was hard to complain about it. The suburbs were a nice, friendly, pure American Dream-type normal environment to raise their family, so Ellie forced the make-a-good-first-impression smile on her face that she reserved for such meetings and opened the door, only to be faced with the last person on Earth she'd imagined it could be.

For a long moment she was frozen, unable to speak. "Sarah," she finally was able to get out. "What are you doing here? Where's Chuck? Is something wrong?"

Sarah stood there, hands at her sides, a nervous smile on her lips. "Hi, Ellie," she said, looking around uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry to just show up like this, but do you think maybe I could come in for a minute?" She paused, the silence hanging heavy, then confessed, "I could really use a friend."

x-x-x-x-x

Chuck sat at his computer with his first morning cup of coffee. It was earlier than he would normally be up and about, but since he no longer had a job, getting ready for a shift at the Buy More didn't apply.

He wasn't awake out of habit, though. He just couldn't sleep. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a little over a month now. More than that, he found that he really didn't want to be in bed. All it did was reinforce that there was now an empty side of it where she used to be.

Chuck had resigned himself to the fact that the Sarah he knew was gone, but he hadn't been prepared to see with his own eyes how cold and ruthless Agent Walker had been before he met her. He knew the stories, knew of the things she'd done. Casey was fond of telling him how much of a rebel she had been before. But somehow he refused to believe it was as bad as all that, because he'd always hated the uncomfortable look on her face when the subject came up. Reality was a great teacher, though. If blowing up the bomb with him, Morgan, and Casey inside the Intersect room hadn't been real enough, then ruthlessly kicking his ass around that house sealed the deal. He'd been convinced his wife was gone, possibly never to return.

Then fate had given them a second chance. She'd needed him for her mission to kill Quinn, which had given him an opportunity to be close to her, to work whatever magic he'd stumbled upon the first time. Maybe even spark some memories.

There'd even been some progress. She was starting to remember some things. More importantly, she was starting to show signs of some of the old Sarah feelings. That kiss yesterday morning at the airport was one of their hottest ever, certainly their hottest ever in public. Even better was her call last night, when she'd said she missed him, wanted to hear his voice. She couldn't have possibly said anything better than that. And she was coming home today. The thought warmed his heart, especially when the time he thought she wouldn't be coming home at all was so close.

That was the problem. He knew her. He knew everything about her. When things got emotionally uncomfortable, her reaction was to run. That would be the worst form of torture, not knowing where she was, or what danger she was involved in. He had to keep that from happening at all cost. Even though what he really wanted was to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, he knew that was the exact wrong approach. If he put much pressure on her, she'd crack like an egg. If he wanted to have a chance to make it work, to get her back, he had to go slow, couldn't pressure her, couldn't do anything that would make her run.

But it was the longest shot in the world. A computer nerd only had a one in a million chance of getting a beautiful super spy to fall in love with him once. But twice?

He was Chuck Bartowski though. His whole life was a series of long shots. He had to have faith that he had one more left in him. So he took a deep breath, and gave himself one of his short but inspirational pep talks.

Go slow, stupid, or you're going to lose her.

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah accepted the mug of tea gratefully, taking a sip and taking a moment to clear her head as Ellie took a seat across from her at the kitchen table. The house was medium-sized, modest, settled in the suburbs. Exactly the kind of home a new family wants to start out in. Exactly the kind of home she and Chuck were planning on one day. At least that was what he'd told her. The kitchen was bright, splashed in yellows and creams, and the sunniness of it all made Sarah want to face this.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, "for threatening to kill you, I mean."

There was really no excuse in the world for threatening to kill one of your best friends, except, of course, the one she had. She wanted to say something else, something more to convince Ellie that she never would have gone through with it, but they both knew she was a much different person without Chuck's influence.

To her surprise, Ellie smiled. "I appreciate the apology. I think we're both a bit too sensible for heartfelt platitudes, or to dwell in the past, but it's enough that I know that you mean it."

Sarah took a deep drag of tea, marveling at the way the liquid warmed her. Or maybe it was Ellie's inherent kindness. She felt at home in this kitchen, like a sister just stopping over for a chat after work instead of a nearly-estranged sister-in-law stopping in for an interrogation during a layover.

"So what's this really about?" Ellie prompted gently. "I wasn't exactly expecting you."

"No," Sarah admitted, shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry to barge in like this."

"Oh, Sarah, that's not what I meant," the older woman said with a light chuckle. "I only meant I thought you were in LA. What brings you out to Chicago?"

"I'm just stopping through on my way home. I had to go to DC for one last meeting."

"Everything go all right?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, everything was fine."

Ellie didn't reply right away. Sarah wrapped her hands around her tea mug, feeling the heat against her palms, trying to ignore the intensity of Ellie's gaze.

After a moment, Ellie ventured, "So what now? If you're officially done with spying, what's next?"

Maybe she couldn't remember becoming friends with this woman, confiding in her, sitting on the couch and drinking wine with her, being in her wedding, standing next to her at her own wedding, but Sarah didn't need those memories to hear what she was asking beyond the words. It was: Will you stay with him? Will you make a future with your husband?

There was so much she wanted to say, but Sarah was never very good at talking. It had never mattered much before, not in a life filled with bullets and bombs. Now, faced with warm brown eyes that reminded her so much of those waiting for her at home, she wished she were the kind of girl Ellie could relate to.

Her thumb ran absently over the porcelain handle, pausing as she realized the simple truth. They could relate, because they had something very important in common. They both cared about Chuck.

"Actually, Ellie," she began softly, "I came here because I want to know about Chuck. I mean, our life together."

"What are you saying, Sarah?"

Sarah took a breath. For a reason she couldn't quite place, this was more important to her than merely filling in missing history. This woman was more than a connection to her lost self, to her lost relationship. She was someone strong, someone to admire, someone to be a friend when everyone else had deserted you.

"I have a husband," she said, "waiting for me in a home back in California. I may not remember those things, but I'm willing to try. I just need some help filling in the gaps, and I don't feel right going to Chuck about some of it."

"You know I'll always be here for you, Sarah," Ellie smiled. "What do you need to know?"

Where to begin? Tell me what happened to me in the last five years of my life, would be overwhelming for anyone, even a woman as in-control and amazing as Ellie.

She took another sip of tea before forcing the words from her mouth. "I'm . . . the way I am for a lot of reasons. You can blame it on my upbringing, or on the CIA. Whatever it is, I'm a lot different than Chuck." Ellie, blessedly, listened patiently to her stiff, stammering speech, waiting with quiet attention as she continued, "Well, it's just, Chuck's said some things, about how I've changed, and I just need to know."

A smile touched Ellie's lips. "You mean you need to know if you can trust what he's saying?"

Sarah's gaze dropped back to her tea. Ellie had hit the nail on the head. For the first days after she'd woken up, after Quinn had gotten to her she'd believed he was a mark, not her real husband at all. She'd been on guard, wary of his offers to help, whether it was helping with dinner or helping her relax with a massage. She knew Quinn was the bad guy now. She trusted Chuck, her husband, now. Still, no matter how much she wanted to believe him, it was hard to shake that ingrained belief that she couldn't trust anyone, not even a man who supposedly turned her from a hardcore superspy to a wife who wanted nothing so much as normalcy.

She trusted Ellie though. Everything about Eleanor Woodcomb spoke to her warmth, and Sarah could practically feel the honesty between them. Ellie would never hurt her, never use her memory loss to anyone's advantage. Not that Chuck would either. She only . . . she wanted to be sure.

Ellie sat back into her chair and took a long drag of tea. Sighing, she said, "Gosh, where do I start? I guess with the day I finally met you. Chuck brought you over for dinner, and he was so nervous. Of course, I didn't know then, and I didn't know for a long time, that you and he were spies. He kept telling me you didn't care for him, but I could see it. The way you looked at him, it was like you couldn't really understand it, but my brother meant everything in the world, and you'd do anything to protect him. That's why I liked you so much."

"You liked me?"

"Oh, my God, Sarah," she smiled, shaking her head, "I thought you were the greatest thing to happen to Chuck. Ever. You brought out this whole other side of him. I loved seeing him like that."

"I was good for him?" Sarah asked, surprised at the quiver in her voice.

"Very." Ellie paused, breath hitched, then said, "He had a really tough time in college. He went through a bad breakup, and the guy he thought was his best friend . . . Well, the short version is that he lost his direction for a long time. And then you came along. And you were the only person who saw the potential in him, and could make him believe in himself."

Sarah felt a smile growing on her lips, felt an unfamiliar fuzziness in her chest. After what Beckman had told her about Team Bartowski's track record that morning, she couldn't help but feel pleased at having been one of the main reasons for its success. But it was more than pride.

Then she remembered the Charles Charles thing. The failed Montgomery move. If she was a reason for their success, she was also a cause of his pain. "It couldn't have been all good, though," she said, "especially if it was just a cover for so long. Did we have problems?"

"Of course," Ellie shrugged. "I witnessed countless fights between you guys. I didn't understand most of them, not when I look back on them now, but that's what relationships are about – overcoming obstacles."

"Tell me."

"Sarah."

"Please, Ellie. I need to know, and Chuck's not going to want to talk about this."

Ellie twisted her lips before finally saying, "I guess I never understood what you had. I thought you led him on a lot." Just as a blush of shame crept into Sarah's cheeks, Ellie added, "Even after I knew the situation, I didn't understand why you couldn't have just told him. If you had told him, even if there was nothing the two of you could have done about it, it could have saved you so much grief."

Sarah swallowing, passed a hand over her face. Yes, there were probably lots of things she could have done better, could have done right. But they could sit here and discuss could have dones and would have dones and should have dones all day. Wasn't this about moving forward? Making a new start?

"I realize, now," she said, her throat tight, "that there were a lot of things I could have done differently."

But I didn't know how to handle my feelings, are the words so close to spilling from her lips. Didn't she see that for herself on the mission log? I love Chuck Bartowski, is what she had said, and I don't know what to do about it.

And I don't know what to do about it.

It was like a haunting echo in her heart.

"Sarah," Ellie said, calling her from her thoughts with her soft voice and a gentle hand over hers, "stop thinking like that. There were a lot of things my brother could've done differently, too. He was always so insecure with you, always saying that you were out of his league. The point is you still have a chance. Maybe you guys weren't the most normal couple in the world, but you worked everything out in the end. Trust me, you'll work this out, too."

She didn't even have to look into Ellie's shining eyes to know the truth of that belief. It was all in the hope in her voice. But there was still the thing that kept gnawing at her insides. How could this man, this nice, sweet, lovable man ever think that anybody could be out of his league?

"I want to," she assured her sister-in-law.

"I know you do," the doctor replied with a grin. "That's why I know you're going to be okay."

Sarah took another deep breath. There was one more, very important question she couldn't ask Chuck.

"Ellie . . ."

"Hmm?"

"Was I happy?"

Ellie paused, mug poised in midair. Then she set it down, deliberately, never taking her gaze from Sarah, and took her hands to give them a good, reassuring squeeze.

She knew how she felt a month ago, before she ever heard of Chuck Bartowski. She was light years away from marriage, kids, love. To hear that, in five short years, a computer nerd had taken her from one end of the spectrum to the other was nearly impossible to believe.

But then, sometimes, aren't the most impossible-seeming things the ones that make you want to believe the most? Dad always told her that the bigger the lie, the easier it was to believe. Maybe this was like that.

"Sarah," Ellie said firmly, a heartening smile on her face, "I saw you smile more the first three days after you got engaged than I did the entire first three years I knew you. I saw you grow from a young woman who lived her life alone to someone who built a family with us, a family who loves you and would do anything for you, and I can't even tell you how many times you've risked your lives for us. I don't know if this is the life you envisioned for yourself, but I do know one thing: you and Chuck belong together. No matter how many times you need to, you'll always find your way back to one another. If anyone can prove that true love exists, it's the two of you."

Sarah swallowed back the tears threatening to come. She felt so safe with Ellie that she was afraid if she started crying, she wouldn't stop for an obscenely long time.

Through a teary haze, she managed to choke out, "So we were friends?"

"Yes," Ellie laughed. "We were best friends."

x-x-x-x-x