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The Bet
x-x-x-x-x
Chuck and Sarah were enjoying the last sweet moments of their second first wedding night by having a nice room service breakfast. They were both pretty famished. Sarah was never one of those beautiful women who counted and fretted over every calorie. But even if she was, she had no worries today. Not with the workouts yesterday, both on the dance floor… and later. So she was fully enjoying her Eggs Benedict.
Chuck had been so cute last night teasing her. He kept saying that it was a shame to pay all that money for such a big bed and spend all night cuddled together using only a small sliver of it. So each time they took a break, he insisted that they move to a different spot on it. They managed to get their money's worth… eventually.
"I hate to spoil this wonderful mood…" Sarah finally began sadly as she took the last bite of her slice of toast covered with orange marmalade and washed it down with a sip of coffee. It wasn't only true, it was understatement. She couldn't possibly imagine a better wedding night. All that was really missing was the wedding. And actually the wedding would have been the tense part for her anyway. Chuck always said that she wanted to elope. And that's sort of what this felt like. Anyway, however the wedding had happened, it had been the perfect wedding night. It was fun, and romantic, and sexy. She got to eat lobster, dance until she was tired, live out one of her life's great imaginary moments, and last but certainly not least, cuddle the night away while the greatest guy in the whole world dedicated himself to making her every wish come true. But…
"I know," Chuck sighed. "Let's not say our honeymoon is over, okay? Let's just call time out on it. We'll resume it later."
The tone of his voice was almost pleading. It was very cute. "Sort of like a rain delay," Sarah agreed with a grin.
Chuck looked at her in amazement. "Sarah," he said. "Are you a baseball fan?"
"Good lord no," Sarah said with a sarcastic laugh. "I was talking about tennis. Wimbledon has rain delays all the time. A rain delay is the worst time to be undercover security. People are milling around everywhere. Some drunk is always hitting on you, trying to get you to go someplace with him so he can show you how hard his serve is, if you get my meaning. And you can't even shoot him. It's a real pain."
Chuck definitely wanted to know why Sarah, a CIA Agent, was undercover at a sporting event in England. But this wasn't the time. "So," he said. "What is the plan?"
"I'm not sure," Sarah said thoughtfully. "They're probably regrouping after their most humiliating defeat last night. They almost assuredly have figured out that you're the Intersect again. It's going to make them want you even more. The problem is that they'll eventually get around to thinking about trying to get some leverage on us somehow. That probably means Ellie… or Mom. The problem is that they are two thousand miles apart. We can't cover them both."
"I'll call Casey," Chuck said. "He's in Kentucky someplace. I'll ask him to go keep an eye on Ellie. You and I can drive and get Mom and Molly. Maybe we can take the jet to Florida and take Molly to Disney World. I may have sort of promised her that we'd go someday."
Sarah pushed down the thought of Chuck being all cute showing Molly the time of her life at Disney World. This wasn't the time to be anything except totally focused on the task at hand. She hesitated for a long moment. "Can we trust him?" she finally asked softly. "Look, sweetie, I know that he's your friend. But I don't know him at all. Chuck, I have to tell you. He just doesn't have a very good reputation. He's a cold, ruthless, by-the-book hard-ass who shoots people first and asks questions later."
Chuck just looked sad. "But couldn't he have said the exact same thing about you once?" he asked softly after a moment. "Here is the complete truth. If there was one single memory that I wish you could get back, it would be your relationship with Casey. You've both changed so much. You came into my life on the same day and at first you couldn't stand each other. He was NSA and you were CIA and you were always fighting for control. For the first few months or so it was pretty tense. You were always sniping at each other. Then there was a year where you sort of wordlessly agreed to tolerate each other. Then you started trusting each other, at least on the job. For the past couple of years, it became plain. You loved each other."
At that, Sarah's head jerked up.
"Don't worry," Chuck said. "I didn't mean it like that. It was never inappropriate. You just had a bond with him, probably because you're so much alike. He became pretty much your big brother. You could talk to him about things that you wouldn't even talk to me about. Not that either of you would ever admit it. God forbid that you two would tell anybody that you loved them. Hell would freeze over first. But you clearly both did. And I'm not the tiniest bit jealous about that. I was happy to see it happen. It was great for you. Besides, I love him just as much as you do. He's come through for us, saved our lives so many times that it would be impossible to count. You're actually the one who talked Verbanski into giving the idea of them becoming a real romantic couple a chance. She was as hard core as you two were once. Sarah, Casey's not our partner. He's not even our friend. He's our family, every bit as much as Ellie or Morgan. He would gladly lay down his life to protect us. It breaks my heart that you don't remember that. I miss him like crazy. So yes, we can trust him."
Sarah flashed back to her hotel room, just a couple of weeks ago. Casey had said that they had become friends. Naturally she didn't believe him. Spies like John Casey didn't have friends, only assignments. But Beckman had strongly hinted at the same thing the other day. Could it really be true? Had he changed as much as she had? If so, the reason was clear. Even Beckman saw it. And it was standing right in front of her looking so incredibly cute wearing only his boxers and t-shirt. This guy who amazingly thought he was unworthy somehow had taken the two biggest burnt out bad asses that a lifetime of service to the greater good could produce and turned them into… people. Not only that, but people capable of loving. She was now more convinced than ever that losing her memories was ultimately a good thing. She had been forced to deny this amazing man for three long years. That must have been pure torture for both of them. No wonder a clearly broken Sarah Walker was crying on that mission log. "Okay," she finally said just as softly. "While you're talking to Casey, I'll call Mom and have her pack some things for her and Molly so we'll be ready to leave."
Chuck stepped to the other side of the suite to call Casey. Of course his first reaction was to ask how Sarah was doing. But after Chuck assured him that Sarah was great and told him about the current situation, he didn't have to be asked. He was immediately asking what his assignment was. Naturally Chuck wouldn't let a conversation with Casey go without a shot about them being in Vegas on their new honeymoon. But Casey took it in stride. In fact the tone of his voice plainly said that he was looking forward to a mission, any mission. Chuck resisted the very large temptation to ask him how it was going with Verbanski. The fact that they were still together said something. It was going to take some time to grow into acting like a couple, for both of them. After all, they were both pretty much the same, lone wolfs just like Sarah had been. Becoming a domestic couple would be a huge change for both of them. But by some sense Chuck knew they were going to make it.
"He's on his way," Chuck said with a laugh as he ended the call. "I think he's grateful to have an excuse to get out of the house." When he saw her face, Chuck immediately knew that something was seriously wrong. So he rushed over to her. "Sarah," he said. "What's wrong?"
Chuck didn't have to see the tears welling in her eyes to know that something was horribly wrong. The fact that she wouldn't look at him told him that. "Sarah," he repeated softly. "Tell me what's wrong?"
"We're too late," Sarah said as she buried her face in Chuck's chest. "Those bastards took them."
"They have Mom and Molly."
x-x-x-x-x
Sarah sat in the restaurant at the Grand Ambassador waiting for Eric to show up. Ironically it was same place that they were supposed to meet last night. This was a calculated gamble. Eric agreed far too quickly. He could very well be setting up a trap. But honestly Sarah didn't think so. He was currently holding a lot of cards. He'd surely want to show up and gloat about it.
They were lucky that they had a way to contact Eric in the first place. It was smart thinking for Chuck to take Alan's cell phone last night. He rightly pointed out that Eric Gold's phone number was assuredly in there someplace.
It had been a mad scramble to make it here in time. They had to go down to the shops and buy Sarah a new dress suitable for this fancy location. It wouldn't do for Sarah to wear the same dress as just last night. And this one was stunning. Chuck said that he liked it even better than last night. It needed a couple of alterations to fit her perfectly. But one good thing about staying in a high roller place, they snapped to attention whenever you needed something. And when you spent over two thousand dollars for a dress, they were standing by waiting for you. So the only thing left was the frantic drive back to the city. Fortunately most of the way back was flat and straight through the dessert… and they had a very high performance car. Sarah drove this time, with little regard for silly technicalities like speed limits.
Finally, Eric walked up to the table. "Agent Walker, you're looking quite lovely," he said with a smirk as he took his seat. "As usual."
Sarah ignored the compliment. "You're late," she began with no hint of humor. "Before we go any further, let's get one thing on the table. If anything, and I mean anything, happens to my mom or my sister, if either one of them get so much as an accidental paper cut out of this, I will hunt you down. I'll make it my life's mission. I'll dedicate myself to becoming so valuable to the CIA that they'll do anything to keep me happy. Then I'll get you alone sometime when you least expect it and slowly carve you up like a Christmas goose. You'll be begging me to let you die."
If Eric was intimidated, he surely showed no sign of it. "Agent Walker," he said in mock concern. "You're the one who asked for this meeting. I thought that you wanted to negotiate. Such violent threats are really not the way negotiations should begin, don't you think? I thought you'd be a little grateful. The sister in Chicago has been picked on enough. We figured it was someone else's turn."
Sarah ignored his shot. "Okay," she said. "Let's negotiate. What do you want?" Responding to his skeptical look, Sarah continued. "In specifics. How is this going to work?"
"Okay," Eric said. "You want specifics? Here's what I'm authorized to offer. I think you'll agree that it is very generous. First you work your magic and get your husband to agree to offer his full and genuine cooperation to our project for one year. To make sure that he doesn't change his mind, he will live in the compound under our watchful eyes for that year. Mom and the little girl go back to suburbia heaven, doing whatever it is that they do. You get reinstated as a full field agent. I think that's more than fair."
"Fully reinstated?" Sarah asked skeptically. "Just like that."
"Just like that," Eric said with a smile. "Come on, Agent Walker. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Sarah ignored the question. "I'd have some conditions," she said slowly. "First, I get to live there with him. He gets a regular forty hour work schedule. Second, we want a legitimate comfortable living space with windows and all the proper amenities including computer access and an exercise area, not some cold cement bunker. Third, there will be no surveillance in our private bed and bath area. Fourth, we want to have regular contact with my mom and Chuck's sister. And finally, one year and we're done. Not a single day more. No matter what state your project is in at that point."
"Of course," Eric said. "We want him to feel comfortable. That's the only practical way we're going to get his cooperation. You can surely live with him when we're not on assignment. In fact we'd insist on that."
Sarah's head shot up. "When we're not on assignment?" she asked.
Eric's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "We're going to be partners," he said. "And as the senior partner of our team I actually have some conditions of my own. First, you're a CIA Agent. You've taken an oath. This probably shouldn't have to be said. But perhaps it's time that you started acting like it. I expect you to follow all my orders without question. We're going to be undercover as a couple in some very intimate situations. Whenever we're on assignment, I expect that you will stay in character conducting yourself as my doting girlfriend, 24 x 7, including in bed. Second, when it is required, you will use any and all means necessary to ensure Bartowski's cooperation at all times including nagging, pouting, crying, and withholding sex… just like a real wife would. Third, and most important, you will start off our partnership by spending tonight with me vigorously apologizing for your very rude behavior at our last meeting."
Sarah's protest at his snarky inference that she wasn't a real wife died on her lips. "Spend the night with you?" she asked sarcastically. "Is that really necessary? Surely you can find women on your own. It's not very professional."
Sarah Walker was one tough cookie. But what option did she have? Eric could hear the defeat in her voice. He was going to enjoy every second of his hard earned victory. "In negotiations it's what's called a deal breaker," he said with a smug smile. "I want what I'm owed. It didn't have to be this hard, Sarah. I was willing to do this in Washington with a lot more dignity. And it's very professional. If we're going to be undercover as an intimate couple, you need to spend some time learning my tastes, don't you agree? I have a couple of preferences in bed that you might take some time getting accustomed too. Let's call it my bonus for a job well done. Besides, there is a principle involved. You're treated me very poorly. It would be very unprofessional to not make sure that you understand who is in control. I've been looking forward to it for some time. Consider it my pound of flesh." Then he made a big point of conspicuously checking her out. "In fact," he said with a sneer. "I'd say it's my 108 pounds of flesh."
Sarah paused for a long, long time considering the offer. "If I do this," she finally said with a sigh. "I have some deal breakers of my own. First, I get to talk to Mom and make sure she's safe. Second, Chuck is currently in Chicago making sure his sister is okay. I have to pick him up at the airport tomorrow morning at eight. So our night has to end fairly early. And most important, Chuck can never ever find out about this or any of the details about any intimacy between us."
"Okay," Eric said.
"I mean it," Sarah said insistently as she pounded the table for emphasis. "I'm not ever hurting this decent man like that. You don't know him. He doesn't think about sex like you do. To him it's a sacred vow. He's already made far too many sacrifices. He may be able to live with the occasional mission as long as I can put a positive spin on the details. But finding out that you and I spent the night together outside of a mission would kill him. Not only would it cause me to lose a pretty damn good husband, it would make him worthless for your purposes."
"Poor guy has it bad, huh?" Eric said.
"Very bad," Sarah agreed. "Eric, I'm not kidding one bit. I'm only agreeing to this disgusting demand to make it as easy on Chuck as possible. If he ever finds out a single word about any sex between us, our deal is off… and you just made yourself one deadly lifelong enemy. By the way, if you think I'm at all happy about this, don't delude yourself. If you're expecting any enthusiasm in bed from me, you're out of luck. Be prepared to do all of the work tonight. So let's get this over with."
"We'll see about the enthusiasm," Eric said with the grin of total victory. "I want what I'm owed. You're trained to fake it, right? Get a room. Leave me a key at the front desk. I have an errand to run. I'll be back in an hour or so."
x-x-x-x-x
When Sarah opened the door to her second luxury suite that day, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Eric was standing there with his white dinner jacket, single red rose, and bottle of Chateau Margeaux. How cliché, predictable, and incredibly pathetic was that? Did he really think that he had a chance to actually romance her into willingly participate? She didn't have to invite him in. She just held the door open and moved out of his way.
Eric made absolutely no effort to conceal the fact that he was thoroughly checking her out from head to toe. The arrogant grin, that he was also making no attempt to conceal as he conspicuously paused his gauze at her chest, very clearly stated how he expected the evening to go. He handed her the rose and placed the wine on the table. "Agent Walker, you look extra nice tonight," he said. "That dress looks phenomenal. Would you like a drink? We can open the wine." After all, there was no reason to rush. He had all night to formally accept her apology. And he fully intended to take full advantage of every minute. Soon that phenomenal dress would look even more phenomenal lying on the floor.
"I'm really going to have to talk to Roan."
When Eric turned he saw a man had stepped out of the bedroom. He was holding a gun pointed directly at him. "And just who are you?" he asked as he raised his hands in a show of surrender.
Chuck ignored the question. "Roan is really going to have to put a warning on that move," he said with a laugh. "Do not ever, under any circumstances, try the Montgomery on Sarah Walker. It could be hazardous to your health. I can't wait to tell him."
Then Chuck turned to Sarah. "Nice job," he said with a grin. "I told you this would work. That dress is even sexier than the one last night. All you have to do is sit there looking all beautiful. When guys think they might have a chance with you they simply switch off their brains. I'm almost ready to switch off mine."
Sarah stepped up to Chuck and kissed him. In fact she did more than kiss him. She was clearly putting on a show for Eric's benefit. "Yup, you called it," she said when the lengthy kiss finally broke.
She turned to a clearly confused Agent Gold. "You see, Eric. Let's get something very straight between us. Your stupid deal is the last thing in the world that I would ever agree to. Even if we trusted you enough to hope that you'd keep your end, and we don't, it makes us no more than slaves. Besides, I have zero interest in working for your corrupt CIA. And becoming your partner and going undercover as a couple? The very idea turns my stomach. I'm disgusted by what the agency's become, and you're the poster boy for that. My oath was to defend the United States Constitution from all enemies. From where I'm standing your 'orders' are about as far away from that as possible. So you can shove being reinstated as a field agent far, far up your ass. My name is Sarah Bartowski, Mrs. Bartowski to you. In fact, if you ever call me Agent Walker again, it's going to cost you a finger. Even the thought of spending a night vigorously apologizing to you quite frankly makes me want to hurl. Simply being in the same room with you makes me feel like I need to take a shower. If I'm going to apologize for anything it's going to be to my husband… for not making you suffer more in my hotel room in Washington before I ended your night."
Chuck grinned at his wife. "Tell him about the bet."
"Okay, Chuck," Sarah said with her own grin and a bit of faux frustration. "I'm getting to it."
Sarah took all of the humor out of her voice as she turned to face Agent Gold again, speaking to him like one would speak to a child. "You see, Eric, I'm afraid I lied to you about my husband being in Chicago. Sorry about that. This was always his plan to get you alone so we can talk in private. Since we were in Nevada at the time, it seemed like the appropriate place to make a friendly wager. I'm afraid that I just lost. I bet him that no trained agent would ever be so… well so mind numbingly stupid to fall for this. He said that you were so pathetic that you do anything for a chance to get laid, including switching off your brain. Turns out he was right. Did I mention that he's a genius? Losing a bet would normally put me into a very bad mood. But fortunately for you this time I'm actually looking forward to vigorously paying off."
Sarah turned to face her husband with a grin. Maybe she was still speaking to Agent Gold, but she was clearly talking to Chuck. "I'm not going to tell you what we bet," she said clearly mocking Eric. Then she lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. "Oh, what the hell," she said. "It's sex."
Sarah was clearly enjoying her sport. Then she turned back to Chuck. "Have I told you how proud of you that I am? This is something that would have driven you crazy in the past. You've really grown. I'm so impressed."
"Thank you. Yes, it might have been mentioned. But really it's not so impressive. What could I possibly have to be jealous about, especially with this guy? He's fairly pathetic."
"Absolutely nothing," Sarah said with a grin. "But you never did have any reason to be jealous and it has never stopped you before. So maybe we'll have to agree to disagree about how impressive it is. I tried to tell you that he was pathetic. You wouldn't listen. By the way, don't give up on the Montgomery. I keep telling you that it works… when the girl wants it to."
"You keep saying that," Chuck said in faux confusion. "But this poor moron is now oh-for-two. I'm oh-for-one. Besides, I don't quite get it. If the girl wants it to work, why would you need it?"
"Well," Sarah answered sheepishly. "First off, I can pretty much guarantee that you'll never become oh-for-two. Who knows? Maybe it will inspire something. Maybe someday the Full Bartowski Treatment will be just as famous. You'll never know unless you try. Besides I bet you would look pretty sexy in the white dinner jacket. It would be another first for us, right? Maybe someday James Bond can use the Montgomery to put Agent Walker helplessly under his spell while he collects his bet winnings along with another pair of conquest panties. That might be a little fun."
Eric watched the interaction with a growing impatience. "Excuse me," he finally said as he lowered his hands. "Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"
"I'm sorry," Chuck said sarcastically. "I'll bet you're confused. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chuck Bartowski. I'm sure that you've heard that name. By the way, I'm actually inclined to be a little sympathetic to your plight. For such a beautiful woman, she historically has had something of a reputation for being incredibly fussy about who she allows inside of her panties. Trust me, you're not the only man who stepped up and took a mighty swing, only to strike out. It took me three long years of almost constant begging and pleading to get her to that point, so I can understand your frustration. But we're getting a bit off topic. My lovely wife here would like to ask you some questions. After all, we need to rescue our family, end your rather silly plot, and get back to what we should be doing, our second honeymoon that you so rudely interrupted. I think we were about to play some tennis. She said something about wanting to see how hard my serve is, if you get my meaning. So you can probably understand that we're sort of in a hurry. We'd really appreciate candid answers."
"You're delusional," Eric said smugly. "Do you really think I would come here alone? Do you think I'm really that stupid?"
"I'm sure that you have men downstairs," Chuck said with a calm smile. "In fact, we're counting on it. But they think you're up here getting laid, right? By the time they even begin to suspect anything is amiss, we'll have our family back and be tipping back a tall cold one in your memory. As far as your question, Forrest Gump would say that stupid is as stupid does. Look around. Don't you think that your 'does' speaks for itself?"
Eric shook his head in frustration. "You think that you're going to rescue them?" he asked sarcastically. "Get real. They are in a secured compound guarded by fifty agents. You don't have a chance."
"Under normal circumstances I might agree with you," Sarah said. "But this apparently isn't the fist time we've been underestimated. You're talking about the team that took down Fulcrum, The Ring, and Alexei Volkoff. Compared to that, your rather unimpressive group of second and third string agents looks like a day at the beach. Are you ready to answer some questions?"
"Fuck you," Eric said dismissively. "I'm not telling you anything. We're still holding all the cards. If you're not ready to listen to reason now, you soon will be. If I have to force you into this, my price will be going up."
To Eric's surprise that got an even bigger grin. "You know what?" Chuck asked. "I was really sorta hoping you would say something like that. My mother-in-law is one of the sweetest, nicest people I've ever met. I already love her like crazy and I look forward to getting to know her a lot better over the years. And a six year old little girl? Really, Eric? What kind of insect are you anyway? Not to mention disrespecting my incredible wife. Trying to force her into bed? I thought that you agent types were taught how to pick up women all on your own. So all in all, as it turns out you actually aren't my favorite person."
Chuck turned to his wife and winked at her.
"And there is something that you probably aren't aware of," he continued. "You see, Eric, interrogation is her specialty. She keeps boasting about it all the time. I was looking forward to finally seeing her in action. There was a day when she was known as 'The Enforcer.' Trust me on something. I know her pretty well. Look at her real closely. When she sets her jaw like she's doing right now, well let's just say that I really don't think that I'd want to be in your shoes anytime soon."
Chuck raised his gun and fired two darts into Eric's chest. It only took a moment for him to begin to collapse. "So, about that holding all of the cards thing, I think I might want to raise you. I'm on a roll with the betting thing. What do you say, Eric?"
"Would you like to go all in?"
x-x-x-x-x
