I still don't own Chuck.

We're firmly into the new part of the story. This is quite a lot different than my original plan for the sequel. It's actually turning out a bit darker (thanks a lot, Bryce) than I had planned. Not to worry, I promise zero relationship angst and as always 'only happy endings' is still firmly in force. I still don't think that Bryce is a villain. Scumbag? Okay, I'll buy scumbag. Yeah, he still wants Sarah, even thinks that she owes him something. Yeah, he still thinks that he has a shot to collect. He may find out the hard way that he doesn't. We've seen the lady agents use sex to get men to do odd things a lot. Well, it only makes sense that Bryce be good at it as well.

Just a few words of caution. We're soon going to separately meet Chuck's parents. They will be nothing like the Steven and Mary Bartowski from the show. You definitely won't like Mary. You may like Steven, eventually. But let's get real. His wife left him twenty some years ago. Fifty year old men need sex too.

We met a new character last chapter. Anyone who has read all of my stories (and if you haven't, WTF? I normally would have said WTH, but this story is rated M, lol.) knows that I love the idea of an ordinary and underestimated person stepping up and becoming an unlikely hero. Angel (remember her?), Janice, Elise, Heather, Misty… welcome Dr. Joan Cole to your exclusive club.

If you enjoyed this or any of the stories on this site, please take a second and send the author a review. It only takes a second – and it really, really makes a difference. That's probably more important than ever now that the series has ended. If you want to keep the Chuck fandom alive and continue to read about these characters, you really need to think about rewarding the people whose hard work make that possible.

Old Men Need Loving Too

x-x-x-x-x

Bryce Larkin wasn't stupid. He knew damn well how the game was played. The CIA was totally for the CIA. There was no sense in wasting any time wishing it was different. That's just the way it was. There was simply no room for compromises made to silly notions like scruples, or friendship, or loyalty. The only way to survive dealing with them for any length of time was to always have something they wanted. That's the part that Sarah never seemed to get. She was naïve, thought that everyone was simply working for the greater good. She actually thought that consistently completing her assignments, killing the bad guys that they wanted her to kill, made her valuable. Bryce knew that being valuable wasn't nearly good enough. You had to be indispensable.

So when you found that particular something that they needed, you hid it from them. You guarded it, you protected it. After all, to survive, you also simply had no room for compromises made to silly notions like scruples, or friendship, or loyalty. It was just the undeniable reality of life as a spy.

Joan Cole didn't understand any of that, in fact had never thought about it in that way. She worked for the same CIA he did. But it was a totally different deal for her. Her goal was not wealth, or glory, or power, it was the pure joy of solving problems. And the CIA gave her tools and money and support. All they asked for was her to solve unsolvable problems like any civilian company would. It's just that with the CIA, the stakes were higher, but then again, so were the perks. It was a good deal for both sides.

Joan sensed this was true but she maybe hadn't thought through all of the implications just yet, had intentionally put off thinking about it. The plain truth was that, for better or worse, the life she had previously known ended today on that desk. She couldn't believe her good luck. This afternoon had been unbelievable, the most electric moment of her life. She really didn't have anything to compare it to. Fucking some guy on the desk in her office wasn't something that she could have even imagined in her wildest fantasies before today. And okay, yes, she could have maybe eventually sold herself that this afternoon was just a mistake, a temporary lapse in judgment caused by, oh I don't know, maybe hormonal imbalance. That seemed to work as an excuse for a lot of people.

But any opportunity for selling herself on a possible self defense rationalization disappeared the second that she knocked on his hotel room door. There was really no question but that she would show up tonight as he asked earlier this afternoon. She couldn't have stayed away if her very life depended on it. Joan really wasn't sure that she believed in love, much less love at first sight. She wondered all afternoon if she could really be in love with this bad boy. It was a tough question. It couldn't be ruled out. Joan had never been in love, really didn't know what it felt like. And the things she had read or heard about the subject frankly didn't sound all that attractive. Love made you do crazy things. All she did know was that she was in this thing way over her head, was totally under his spell, and would be powerless to deny him anything that he asked her. She had just proved that conclusively, right?

Giving him the Intersect glasses they had prepared for Bartowski was a major break of the protocol that had been established for handling such a potentially dangerous asset, one that could land her in a lot of hot water someday. And that paled compared to giving him the unprotected set that he asked for, the one that would work on anybody. He totally ignored her concerns about the possible side effects, that the Intersect 2.0 had never been tested on a live subject, and that this was a risky proposition at best. It really didn't matter. No threat of trouble could keep her from this feeling. For the first time in her life, Dr. Joan Cole was allowing her heart to rule. Was it love? Impossible to say. But she decided that it really didn't matter anymore. She was going to give him total control, surrender to the sensation, and live with the consequences later.

And he clearly wasn't about to make this easy on her, was going to make her prove that she understood who was firmly in charge. She had honestly never stripped for a man's entertainment before. It was like an out-of-body experience. But she found that his boyish smile as he sat there calmly and instructed her on which piece of clothing to slowly remove next was hypnotic until she stood there naked in front of him waiting calmly for his next instruction. It came quickly and would have caused her to explode from embarrassment yesterday. Sure, it was something she had done plenty of times, but always in the dark, and certainly not in front of someone. But the feeling was so intense that she found performing for him was making her knees so weak that she could barely stand.

But that was nothing like the sensation when he stood in front of her, put his hands on her shoulders, and gently but firmly wordlessly pushed her to her knees. It was clear what he wanted. It was something she had only attempted once before in her life, then only as a reluctant birthday present for her only boyfriend. And then she only agreed mainly to stop his annoying begging. Frankly she had always found the thought semi-disgusting… until now. Now she was just consumed with the thought of pleasing him. She could feel the electricity flow between them. With each of her long, slow strokes she found him growing just a bit harder in her mouth. His hands were tangled in her hair firmly guiding her movements. She surrendered control to him as he slowly pushed her to go just a little deeper each time.

Even that amazing feeling quickly paled when he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Then he pulled her knees apart, took her hand, and guided it between her legs as he slowly undressed. She could feel the tingle of anticipation as she lay there on that far too soft hotel bed with her knees in the air, waiting for him. When he finally gently pulled her hand out of the way, took its place and pushed into her, she was totally consumed. She had no choice but to lie there helplessly while his powerful thrusts created the electricity flowing between them that simply overwhelmed her senses.

Bryce was busy studying her face as she lay under him with her eyes closed. Joan was so easy. She wasn't really all that good of a fuck, far too passive for his tastes, a thirty something woman who's career was her life, had never done anything wild. It was a classic stereotype. In fact she was almost too easy. Bryce preferred a challenge, a conquest. Now Sarah had been a challenge, still was, actually one that he was eager to tackle once again, perhaps with a little more success this time. In fact they had somewhat of unfinished business. It was no secret what she owed him. When she finally paid her debt by surrendering her panties to him in the broad daylight and willingly hit her knees like she just had with Chuck last night, then maybe they would be even. But he needed Joan, for now. So thinking of Sarah would only lead this session to a premature ending, one he couldn't afford tonight. That would probably be okay in normal circumstances. He could tell that she was already getting close to the edge.

But that wouldn't do. He didn't want her to climax so soon. So he forced the image of a naked and completely submissive Sarah on that plane last night out of his mind and slowed down to make this last as long as possible for her. He needed to make this a life experience. Fortunately he was something of an expert at knowing how to take a mark to the very brink, back off for a moment, and repeat the process a few times until her nerves were on the edge and she was begging him for release. Her orgasm needed to be an explosion that she had never before experienced even in her wildest dreams, an instant addiction, something that she would gladly perform any task he would lay out for her to get from him again.

And Bryce definitely had a task in mind. This was going to work out well for everybody. He had sounded so depressed when they talked on the phone this afternoon. And why wouldn't he be? Poor bastard probably couldn't remember the last time he got laid. That was something that simply needed to be fixed. Not only was his depression getting in the way of his research, providing him with a source of regular sex would make him dependant on Bryce. And Bryce certainly liked it when people were dependant upon him. It made things… easier. And since this man represented that thing that the CIA needed most, well, easier was good.

It was a hard sell at first. He was a proud man, a little old fashioned, not only that, a hopeless romantic. In fact, he was probably the last person emotionally who should have gotten involved with the spy business. So setting him up for a meaningless romp in the sack wasn't all that attractive to him. Bryce had to spend some time talking him into it. And it wasn't all lie. He and Joan actually would have a lot in common. Okay, maybe the bit about how liberal she was sexually, how she was looking forward to meeting a hero of hers, and especially how she was looking forward to them fucking tomorrow more than he was may have been an… embellishment.

Speaking of that, maybe it was time to test his latest recruit. Bryce stopped his thrusts until she noticed and opened her eyes to look at him in dismay. "How's it going?" he asked playfully. "Do you want to do something else?"

It took Joan a long moment to realize that he was asking her something. She couldn't believe the question. "Please don't stop," she whispered.

"What do you want me to do?" Bryce said with a grin. "Tell me."

"Keep going."

Bryce shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "That's not good enough. Tell me what you want me to do."

Joan was desperate to tell him what he wanted to hear, anything to get him to put out the fire that was raging in her loins. At first she didn't even know what he wanted her to say, because it was language that she would never normally use. Then it hit her. "Fuck me, Bryce."

"Better," Bryce said with a playful grin. "Nice girls say please."

"Please." It was no more than a whisper.

"Now together. Sell it to me."

Joan paused for a just second. But she quickly decided that a little groveling would be a small price to pay. "Please. Fuck me, Bryce. I need this. Please."

Bryce started to slowly resume his efforts. "Who do you belong to?" he asked. "Tell me."

There was no question what he wanted to hear this time. "I belong to you," she quickly said. And it was true. She maybe didn't understand why. But it was clearly true that she did. She now belonged to him. And he clearly knew it as well as she did. Trying to deny it would be pointless. And the amazing thing was she had no desire to deny it. She knew that this bad boy would never be hers. She would never be able to expect monogamy from him, much less an engagement ring. But that didn't matter. What she could expect was the incredible electric tingle currently flowing from her loins. That was their unspoken deal. And it was more than enough. In fact, the thought sent one extra thrill through her, already on edge, body. She totally belonged to Bryce Larkin. God help her.

"Do you want me to go harder?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

The surrender was now complete. Joan couldn't believe the words were actually coming out of her mouth. She never talked like this. But she also knew that she meant them with every fiber. "Fuck me harder," she moaned as she squirmed under him. "I'm completely yours. Please, Bryce, fuck me harder."

It was time for her reward, so Bryce slowly but steadily picked up the intensity until she was moaning again. He watched in amusement as her body tensed when the massive orgasm hit. It seemed like an hour that she thrashed helplessly while spasm after spasm racked her. Now that his work was done, it wasn't all that hard for him to pretend that it was Sarah lying there helplessly moaning and he quickly felt the tightening of his own climax.

It was now plain to anybody who had been paying the least bit of attention. It had actually worked out just as it almost always did. Joan Cole was now his property for as long as he wanted. And even though he was in a hurry to get to Hawaii, this was worth the small investment of a fuck or three. She belonged to him mind, body, and soul. It was now time for his newest soldier's first assignment.

Yup, this was going to work out well for everyone.

x-x-x-x-x

Sarah Bartowski had never been close to this happy. She honestly was so happy she didn't know how to handle it. It had been a magical honeymoon so far, and it was still only mid-afternoon of the first day. True to his word, as soon as they woke up from their nap Chuck went down to the shops with her to pick out new bathing suits. And maybe she was just teasing about picking out the skimpiest ones she could find, but the bikini they finally settled on for her couldn't have possibly been mistaken for modest. She let him off the hook a little and allowed him to choose a more conservative model, with the compromise that he wouldn't wear a shirt.

Sarah wasn't so sure when Chuck said that he wanted to get a haircut. She simply loved his curls. Fortunately, they survived the barber's efforts. And Sarah had to admit, he looked even sexier with shorter hair. Now she just had to keep the other women from noticing.

Then it was time for lunch. There was this place right across the street from the hotel that advertised the world's best cheeseburgers. And since a sloppy cheeseburger with extra pickles was Sarah's favorite, that was a no-brainer choice. 'World's best' might have been a stretch. But they definitely hit the spot.

But the highlight of the day so far was clearly the beach. Sarah had never been to the beach before as an adult. It had always been Agent Walker. So she had to give herself something of a pep talk. Don't constantly look around for threats. Relax and have fun with your sexy husband. She wasn't Chuck's bodyguard anymore. Fulcrum was crushed. The last of the Elders was probably being picked up as she rubbed sun block on his back. Okay, maybe she wasn't his bodyguard, but did that mean she should let him get sunburned? Wives had responsibilities too.

Sarah was maybe a little surprised that she didn't have to make much of an effort to talk him into playing beach volleyball with her. But she was totally surprised at how good of a player he was. It turned out that Jill had been quite the volleyball player at Stanford and made him join a mixed couple's league with her. He grinned when he told her the story of how good of a motivator Jill was, said something about a unique incentive system she had worked out to get a high level of play out of him. That's really as much as Sarah wanted to know. But she did let him know, in no uncertain terms, that whatever incentives Jill had worked out, she would double down. That quickly shut him up.

Wherever he had acquired his skills, with Chuck dominating the net and Sarah flying all over the sand setting him, they quickly found themselves unbeatable. They methodically racked up ten victories in a row. Chuck was starting to wear down a little after the tenth win. He gently suggested that maybe it was time to lose on purpose so they could get off the court, check out the water, and maybe have a drink or two. What he didn't count on was how competitive his new bride was. So that idea was quickly vetoed.

But soon even Sarah was beginning to see his point. They had played for a couple of hours straight now. And she knew that if she worked him much harder, it might negatively impact his performance later tonight in that giant poster bed. That wouldn't do… at all. There was only one couple who was able to give them anything close to a competitive game. Josh and Joey Patterson from Minnesota was a newlywed couple on their honeymoon as well. They seemed nice enough. So the next time they were up Sarah stated that this would be their last game. If they won, they would retire undefeated and pass the torch to the Pattersons.

"How would you like to make this interesting?" Joey, a perky brunette with long tanned legs and an even skimpier bikini than Sarah asked as she tossed Sarah the ball to serve. "I think we might have a chance this time. It looks like Chuck is beginning to fatigue a little."

Sarah wasn't much of a gambler. But anyone who would dare question her new husband in any way… "What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"Loser buys dinner and drinks for the entire evening," Joey said quickly. "No limits. I'm talking live lobster at the seafood restaurant."

Sarah had to admit that she already had definite plans to dine at the restaurant Joey was referring to sometime soon. Lobster was her clear favorite. She glanced over at Chuck and saw him shrug his shoulders in a matter that plainly said this was up to her. Still she wasn't all that keen on having dinner with another couple, especially tonight. For one thing, she didn't like the way Joey was staring at Chuck's ass when she thought Sarah wasn't looking. But what could it hurt? There would be plenty of time to get Chuck all to herself. Even Sarah knew that they couldn't really spend the whole two weeks having sex. And a few free drinks might just loosen him up a little. Well, actually the entire trip, including the drinks, was already free. But these free drinks would be even sweeter. Besides, making some new friends was a nice normal thing. Maybe it was time to let Chuck know that she was willing to work at being normal.

Then Joey made her mistake. "You're not chicken?" she suggested with a grin.

Of course Joey had no way of knowing how competitive Sarah was. So that sealed the deal. "You're on," she quickly said as she held up the ball ready to serve. Naturally her first jump serve was a screamer down the line for an ace.

"Nice thinking," Josh said to his 'wife' so that only she could hear. "All this is going to cost us is an ass kicking and a lobster dinner. Larkin will be pleased."

Joey leaned in to give her 'husband' a consoling kiss. "This is what I get for working with a gay partner," she whispered teasingly. "If you'd maybe get your eyes on the fucking ball for two seconds and off of his ass, we might actually have a shot. Larkin said to make friends with them and gain their trust, not to be their door mat."

"What's the fun in that?" Josh replied softly with a grin as he helplessly watched another sizzling serve land down the line. Sarah had plainly been holding back before. "You have to admit, it's a nice ass."

"It's a very nice ass," she was forced to agree. "Hers actually isn't all that bad either. Our regular bet that I get an up close and personal look at what's making that bulge in his suit before the two weeks are over."

"You're on," Josh said playfully as he watched the next serve scream past her diving attempt for a third straight ace and went to help her up. "The way she's watching his every move? You'd have a better chance at getting me naked than him. So what are you crying about anyway? Losing a game? We didn't stand a chance anyway, especially after you pissed her off."

Joey still wasn't quite ready to give up. And she was actually able to dive and get a hand on Sarah's next screaming serve, but not even close to being able to play it. "Damn," she muttered under her breath. "What is this girl, a machine?"

Josh knew his partner and how competitive she could be. But this was hopeless. If she was going to show this Sarah who was boss, she was going to have to find something other than volleyball. So he went to help her up again. "Don't worry," he said with a laugh at her growing frustration.

"I'll spring for the dinner."

x-x-x-x-x

Joan wasn't a stupid person. In fact she was brilliant. So she immediately recognized what he was doing. And she called him on it. "Bryce," she said as they lay there catching their breath and cuddling, naked except for a single sheet. "You know that I'm not a field agent. You're testing me, right?"

Joan maybe wasn't a field agent. But she worked for the same agency in a management position. She had certainly heard the rumors and all of the wild stories whispered in the lunch room of the seduction missions that the female agents were expected to perform.

Bryce made no attempt to deny that he was testing her. But he did flash 'the smile' at her. "You work for the CIA," he said. "You know how these things work. Everyone is tested in some way. I'm an agent. I can't be a normal boyfriend. I can only be with someone who is a partner, someone that I trust completely. Maybe I'm assuming too much. I thought that you wanted…"

"I do want that," she quickly interrupted. "Come on, Bryce. You have to know that I do. It's just… I've never done anything like this before. Do I really have to make love with him?"

Bryce reached down to kiss her. "Of course not," he said. "I don't want you to make love with him, not ever. That would make me jealous. I want you to fuck him. I want you to play a role, give this man the time of his life, and make him believe that you're his willing plaything for two weeks. I want you to do every single thing that you just did for me. And every time you're doing those things, I want you to pretend that he is me. Now tell me what you're going to do."

Yesterday, the thought of sex with a stranger would have been disgusting. But now she could feel the fire beginning to build again. Well, maybe his finger that was not so gently stroking her hot button had a little to do with it. But she also had to admit, the idea wasn't nearly as repulsive as it had been ten minutes ago. "I guess that I'm going to fuck him," she sighed.

"No," Bryce corrected with a kiss. "You can't guess. You have to know. I need a partner who is all in. And you don't get it. You're not going to be fucking him. You're going to be fucking me. You're just going to be using his body. When I get back, I want a detailed report of every orgasm we've given each other through him. Can you do that for me?"

Joan knew that she really had no choice. After all, he was holding all the cards. Even though he hadn't said it quite so plainly, the implication was clear. This was her test. It was either perform this task for him, and probably much more in the future, or lose him. But she found herself quickly almost panicked. She couldn't lose him, not so soon. "What am I supposed to say to him?" she asked softly. "Hi, my name is Joan. Let's fuck?"

Bryce laughed. "You may not think that would work," he said. "But it would." Then he reached down to kiss her again. "Don't worry," he said. "He is expecting you to be nervous. He knows that you're not an agent. He wouldn't want sex from an agent. He'll make it easy for you. And it doesn't have to be all sex. You two have a ton in common. You head the Intersect Project. Well he invented it."

That got her attention. "He invented the Intersect?" she asked, suddenly interested. Joan didn't know much about the history of the project. It was never talked about. She had always assumed that the Intersect was born from some government program spawned during the cold war. "I have no idea who invented the Intersect. Why haven't I heard of him?"

Bryce didn't answer her question. He knew that this next part was important. She couldn't scare him away. "There are some unbreakable ground rules here," he said. "He knows that you and I are with the CIA. He's not too fond of the agency. He has his own reasons. Knowing him I'm sure he'll tell you all about it. But there will be no attempt to recruit him or to get him to help with your project in any way. General discussion is okay, he'll like that. But he would be offended if he felt like you were playing him to get his help. He's not crazy about the government's plans to use his invention as a weapon."

"I'm actually not all that crazy about that part either," Joan sighed. "What is his name?"

"Steven," Bryce said. "Steven Bartowski." Then responding to her amazed look, "yes," he said. "You've heard the name. He's Chuck's father. That's the other ground rule. He doesn't know that his son is the Intersect. They haven't talked to each other in many years. He definitely wouldn't take that news very well at all. So you can't tell him. It also goes without saying that you can't tell anybody back at the office about this."

Joan just buried her face into his chest for a long time, shifted her hips to give him a better angle, and allowed his finger to do its intended magic. Like she was going to tell people back at work that was now the girlfriend of a bad boy field agent, had just broken virtually every rule of professional conduct one could imagine, had come to the very edge of committing treason, and now was about to throw herself at and fuck a mark old enough to be her dad in every position either could think of nonstop for the next two weeks. Not very likely. No one would believe her anyway. "Chuck Bartowski's father?" she asked. "Just how old is this guy anyway?"

"Does that really matter?" he asked with a smile as he kissed her again. "Old men need loving too, right?"

Bryce looked at her clearly writhing next to him. She plainly needed round two to start soon. "I need you, Joan," he said gently. "Can I count on you? Are you all in on us? Are you my girl? My partner?"

Joan didn't answer for a long while. She was now the girlfriend of a CIA Agent. At least that part was incredibly exciting. "I'll do it," she finally said. "I'll do my best."

"That's my girl," Bryce said as he kissed her more urgently and removed his finger. "This is going to be an exciting assignment for you. I know it. Do you have any vacation time? When I get back, we'll go someplace together. Venice is lovely this time of year. Have you ever been?"

Joan was currently on fire again. So she really wasn't in a mood to talk about vacation plans. But that was more like it. She actually had tons of vacation time accrued. She had never been on a vacation before, or for that matter, even been out of the country. Maybe this spy girlfriend thing wouldn't be so bad. But right now she needed something else from him. That thing that he had proven to be oh so good at. "That sounds like fun," she said. Of course she had no way of knowing that Bryce had zero intention of actually ever paying off. "But first can we…"

Bryce's grin turned boyish again as her shy voice trailed off. They both knew what she wanted. And she had earned it. But she had to learn her place. There was no way she was going to get away with not begging for it a little. "Pretend I'm him," he said. "Smile at him and tell him what you want. Make him believe it."

Dr. Cole was nothing if not a quick learner. She knew exactly what he was demanding from her. It was now official. So the submissive smile as she accepted his terms was, perhaps not enthusiastic, but it was more or less genuine. "I want you to fuck me," she said softly. "Please, Steven. I'm on fire here. I really need you to fuck me."

"That's my girl," Bryce said as he moved to give his new 'girlfriend' her second reward tonight and third inside of ten hours. "You're doing a very good thing here, Joan. This is something that we'll really be able to use in the future. I'm proud of you. Remember, when I get back I want a detailed report of every time with him."

Joan was already moaning as he began to pick up the pace. She was a scientist. But she was also an administrator. She was very good at creating reports. "Okay, Bryce," she whispered. "Anything you want."

Bryce Larkin was the consummate planner. That's how he had survived so long in a business with a very short life expectancy. But like almost every spy, his fatal mistake was something that he couldn't have anticipated. Bryce's mistake was something that sounded like a very good idea at the time. But introducing Joan Cole and Steven Bartowski was about to put a chain of events into motion that nobody could have possibly predicted.

It would literally change the world, including his.

x-x-x-x-x