A/N: A huge thank you to the readers and the reviewers. As I said in the A/N for Chapter 3, it is the ink to my pen and the fuel to my inspiration. So I got this chapter written two days ahead of schedule.

Guest #2: Not entirely sure on the rating myself anymore. So far I have managed to behave and not gone off the reservation yet. It might very well be a safety net just in case, or a force of habit since I did write stories in another fan fiction universe that did ask for an M rating.

Nomadic Nerd: It's in one of my plot outlines to hopefully give a plausible reason as to why the flashes seem to happen rather randomly.

BCC1: Thank you, but my first language still is Dutch. Though I might take that cat and medal idea and run with it, lol. The old lady plot was an exaggeration on my part, but the idea popped into my head when jotting down the outline for Chapter 3 and I couldn't resist using it.

GCG23: Not telling on that bit of being or persona just yet since it would be spoiling one of the plotlines.

As always, reviews are most welcome and very much appreciated. Seeing that I have yet to go on a cursing spree resulting in a gore fest, I will lower the rating for M to T for now. But if future plots call for it, it will go up to M again, but maybe I'll be able to keep it at a suggestion level and get away with it.

Anyway... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Chuck'.

She blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure and assess the situation she was currently in. It felt like time had come to an abrupt halt. Her instincts kicked in again; she began to crawl backwards, away from the inert man in black. At a seemingly safe distance she swiftly turned over and scrambled to her feet.

Not looking where she was going, she ran smack into Chuck and staggered back. For a second time in a short while she felt his hands close around her upper arms, keeping her upright.

"Sam, wait," Chuck said in a soft voice, looking past her at the other man. "You're early, Casey," he grumbled while he checked his watch again.

Confusion. Fear. A hint of anger. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest. What the hell was going on?

"Good thing too. The point was to grab her, not send her running," the man called Casey groused.

Unaware of what was actually happening a few yards away from the apartment complex, she noticed that Sam and Chuck were nowhere to be seen. She took it as a sign that her plan was finally working.

"Babe, leave 'em alone," Devon said while he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "There's something as pushing it too much."

"I know," she agreed dejectedly. "It's just... I think they'd be good for each other. I mean, look at my little brother. Five years and he's still pining for that Roberts bitch."

"You want Sam to be the rebound girl?" She could hear the disbelief in his voice.

He had a point there. Sam was too good to simply be the rebound girl for her brother. She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head. It was not that simple, it never was. She decided to ignore his question since it forced her to think longer about Jill than she wanted. 'That damn bitch!'

"And Sam, you know her poor history with men, and you saw how she looked tonight. It's the first time I've seen her put a real effort into how she looks."

"Still it would be a bad idea to force them together, babe. It could seriously backfire."

Her boyfriend could be so clueless at times. Clearly he had missed the obvious signs, but she had not. She had seen the shy glances passed between them when one thought the other was not looking. There was no mistake; the connection was there. She could not be more excited if she tried.

He growled darkly. This farce had gone on long enough. It was time to put it to an end and move on to the next assignment.

"Bang up job, Agent Bartowski," he scoffed. "CIA... Completely Incompetent Asses."

"Your reputation of Prince Charming precedes you, Agent Casey," the other agent said with a wry smile.

"Put a sock in it," he growled. "It's late. I'm tired... Let's cut the crap and give her to me now. She belongs to the NSA."

"The CIA gets her first!" Agent Bartowski said while he pulled out his gun and aimed at the mark who took a step back in shock: "You come any closer and I shoot."

"With a tranq gun? Really?" He scoffed again, drawing his own gun and pointing it at the rival agent. "I knew the CIA was soft-hearted but this really takes the cake. Fine, you shoot her, I shoot you. I leave your body here and secure her, then go out for a late snack. I'm thinking maybe pancakes."

Agent Bartowski looked at him warily. The mark looked at him with a mixture of confusion and horror.

"What the hell is going on?" The mark asked after a long, heavy silence in which he tried to stare down the other agent. "What's happening to me?"

"Sam saw the encoded pictures, Agent Casey... She is the computer," Agent Bartowski stated as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Wait a minute... You're telling me all of our secrets are in her head?" He queried while he directed his gun at the mark's forehead which had the CIA agent aim his gun at him.

"Sam is the Intersect," Agent Bartowski informed him.

That was it: the final straw. She was done. Done with being ignored. Done with being pushed around. Lied to, held at gunpoint, and now they were talking about her as if she were some object and not a person, as if she was not even there.

She pushed her initial fear down hard and let it be replaced by a deep anger. The entire day had been surreal and nothing had gone in her favor. She was exhausted with a sore back and a horrible headache.

Though not unfamiliar with running, since she tried to run once or twice a week on her days off, the impromptu sprint had drained her of the last bit of energy and patience she had left to deal with this insane situation.

She looked at the bickering agents again and clenched her fists at her sides.

"Zondra sent me that email," she interrupted them rudely. "I'm the one remembering your secrets. Which means you have to listen to me, both of you," she emphasized her point by glaring at them while pointing from one to another. "You need me. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm going home to sleep, you two duke it out and whoever wins can come find me in the morning."

She sidestepped Chuck and stalked back to the apartment complex, leaving the two agents completely baffled. Somehow it brought out a small smile of victory, though she was sure that her supremacy would not last.

It did not take him long to set up a secure video connection with their superiors. With his laptop parked on the roof of his car, they were now staring at the anything but pleased faces of Director Graham and General Beckman. The Director especially looked like he had swallowed a beehive.

"Care to tell me why the asset is still out there? And not dead or dropped in a bunker?" General Beckman scowled at them.

"Judgment call, ma'am," Casey replied before he could.

It confused him; if anything, he had expected Casey to turn on him, but maybe he had gotten through to the veteran after that lengthy discussion?

General Beckman raised an eyebrow sardonically and stared at them silently for a few seconds: "Judgment call? I thought the orders had been pretty clear, Major."

"They were, ma'am. But the situation asks for a different approach. So it is my observation that she will be far more useful out in the field than she would be in a bunker. Or dead."

"What's your take on this, Agent Bartowski?" Director Graham asked.

"I have to agree with Major Casey on this, sir, ma'am... It is my assessment that Sam is no threat to national security, all the evidence I found support that notion... She is a hardworking civilian with friends and a life so it appears to be disproportional to drop her in a bunker, for simply being the victim of an unfortunate coincidence... Also, I think that will be beneficial and informative for Project Omaha to study how the Intersect fares in a layman-"

"That's just fine and dandy, but it does not change the fact that we cannot have the Intersect running around L.A. without any supervision," General Beckman interrupted his report bluntly.

"And she won't, ma'am," he stated confidently, a plan already formed in his head. "As part of Project Omaha, I volunteer to move back to L.A. to observe and report."

"You're offering to be a handler?" The Director inquired skeptically.

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"Fine," General Beckman cut in before Director Graham could object, which he was about to telling by the look on his face. "In that case I will appoint you, Major Casey, as the handler for the NSA."

Two hours! For two godforsaken hours she had been tossing and turning in her bed. The liberating sleep remained far out of her reach. Pushed past exhaustion, her mind had struck an infinite loop, going over and over the same events again and again.

Each time she closed her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, she would stare down the barrel of the gun the looming agent had held. It was not an accurate depiction of the situation, but it appeared it was the one thing her mind was struggling the most with; she had never been held at gunpoint or even seen a gun before.

Opening her eyes again and sighing disappointedly, she glanced at her alarm clock, only four minutes had passed since she had looked at it last. This was not working, so she switched on the light closest to her, got up and went over to her desk. A deep sadness settled in when she saw her computer and knew it was completely fried; all that upgrading and tweaking for nothing.

After a short search she returned to her bed with a pen and notepad in hand. Sitting down cross-legged, she began to jot down what she knew, what kept milling around in her mind. Maybe if she wrote it down, she could get it out of her system by giving it a place.

* Intersect. Database. Government secrets.

* Zondra Rizzo. CIA. Spy. Sent me the Intersect. Why?

* Chuck Bartowski. Ellie's brother. CIA. Project Omaha. Cyberus. Analyst. Knows about Intersect and 'flashing'.

* Casey. NSA.

* Derek Walters. Unrelated? Criminal. 'Flashed' on him.

Looking over the notes, it appeared to be even more confusing. A feeling of defeat came over her: "I give up," she sighed, tossing the pen and notepad aside.

There would be no sleep for him tonight, and he doubted there would be any for Sam. After setting perimeter alerts that would inform him of any comings and goings into the courtyard, he had retreated to his car, not wanting to wake his sister and his boyfriend.

He made himself as comfortable as possible in the driver's seat and watched the screen of his laptop. It was an old file, one he knew all too well. It reported the findings of the team of scientists and analysts who had monitored his trial runs with the earlier versions of the Intersect.

Sam would not sleep until she crashed. The embedding of the Intersect in her brain would prevent her from sleeping. It had taken him four days after his first upload to finally crash, and he had been a willing participant. The second and third time his brain had shown a much easier time with processing the information overload. Now it was simply suppressed until the latest version was ready.

The very version that was now in Sam's head, courtesy of Agent Rizzo. The test trial studies had resulted in a way to suppress it but so far there was no evidence to support that it would remain that way. In fact it seemed the opposite; even he suffered from the occasional random flash.

For Sam, suppressing it would mean signing her immediate death sentence. There was not a chance that the involved agencies would allow her to live a normal life. He hit the steering wheel with the ball of his hand in pure frustration. He really hated the 'life or death' part of his job, and hated it even more now that an innocent citizen could pay the ultimate price. All Sam was guilty of was being friends with that traitor Zondra.

His laptop beeped, and he glanced at it. Someone had left the courtyard. He looked out the window and saw Sam walk off, huddled and hurried. After closing the lid of his laptop and stuffing it under the passenger seat, he got out of the car and locked it.

"There's nowhere I can run, is there?" She concluded sadly when he sat down next to her on the park bench.

Normally she would not have been so bold as to go for a walk alone in the middle of the night, but she had given up on sleeping and had grown restless just lying in her bed. She had needed to get out of the apartment, had wanted to clear her mind. The cool night air had just been the thing she needed.

She had wandered along the shore of Echo Park Lake, with one, if not both, agents following in her shadows. He had made no effort to hide his presence, tracking her at a safe distance; not too distant to make her a target for malicious people and not too close to give her the space she wished for. He was simply there, like a second shadow.

"Not from us," Chuck answered honestly.

She looked at the lake again, quietly thinking about his answer and what it came down to. Running had never been an option. Either one would hunt her down and deal with her in their own way.

"Talk to me, Sam," he said in a gentle voice.

"Yesterday I was making eleven bucks an hour fixing computers. Now I have one in my brain. And I can't figure out why Zondra did this, why she chose me? What are you going to do with me? What happens now?"

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and saw him swallow a few times.

"For now, you go back to your own life. We'll protect you and you'll work with us."

"And my friends, your sister, are they in danger?"

"Tell them nothing to keep them safe," he answered.

"Not even Ellie?"

"Not even Ellie."

"Does she know that you work for the CIA?"

He answered with a single nod: "She does but not to the full extent. She thinks I'm a paper pusher, and it's best if she keeps thinking that or I best hide from her in a bunker."

It brought a faint smile to her face. Her best friend could be downright scary.

"I need you to do one more thing for me," he said while he turned his head to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"Trust me, Sam."

If he had asked her that question before her world got turned upside down, she might have had an easier time deciding whether to trust him or not. He had already tried to deceive her once, and given his line of work, without a doubt, he would again in the near future.

The first thing he noticed when the secure video connection was established for their next briefing was the absence of Director Graham, which was fine with him. He really did not care for that schmuck and the horse he rode in on. It was already bad enough that he had to play nice with that goof Bartowski for the time being.

General Beckman took a deep breath while gathering some papers on her desk: "Alright, after quite some deliberation it's been decided that the asset stays out. For now. Which means you have your new mission."

He perked up at the prospect of a new mission.

"Major Casey," the General addressed him first, and he stood a little taller. "As it happens to be there is a job available at the Burbank Buy More. We have put your name forward and want you to take it, use it to keep an eye on the asset."

He noticed the amused look on the other agent's face and cracked his knuckles to intimidate him, to no avail when that stupid grin on Bartowski's face did not disappear. If that CIA nerd kept it up like that, he would have to set him straight. The simple idea was enough to bring a smirk to his face.

"Furthermore, the NSA managed to acquire an apartment at the complex where the asset lives. You can move in today. The CIA and the NSA will provide in whatever you need for the job."

"I have to live next door to the geek?" He grunted obviously displeased.

"Is that a problem, Major Casey?" General Beckman asked sternly.

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Which brings me to you, Agent Bartowski."

"Ma'am," Chuck acknowledged the General.

"Since you've already established a rapport with her, we want you to pose as the asset's boyfriend."

Laughter rose from deep within his chest when he saw the smug look on Bartowski's face replaced with one of complete disbelief. This was going to be good. So he made no attempt to hold his laughter in.

"It will allow you to infiltrate the asset's life and to find out as much as you can about her while protecting her without raising suspicion," General Beckman explained the reasoning behind it.

Casey growled amused: "Are you sure, ma'am? Given that they're both geeks, isn't it like the blind leading the blind?"

He glared at his new colleague, who responded with a malicious grin. As if matters had not been complicated enough, he now had to face the consequences of a fake relationship with the woman his sister had been trying to set him up with for quite a while now. He had pretended to be blind to Ellie's obvious attempts, only allowing her a victory here and there to not disillusion her. He was a spy, trained to deceive. Still his conscience always gnawed at him when he had to lie to his big sister.

"Furthermore, Director Graham has managed to find you a job. Tomorrow you will start your job at the Wienerlicious across the parking lot of the Buy More," General Beckman ignored the jab.

There was no doubt in his mind that this was some kind of twisted payback from Director Graham. But before he could think on it some more, Casey let out a strange sounding grunt. A quick glance to his left told him that he was suppressing his laughter, but failing miserably.

"So it wouldn't hurt if you drop in today and introduce yourself to your supervisor, Scooter," the General continued undisturbed.

"Scooter!" Casey guffawed.

"Major Casey, get a hold of yourself!" General Beckman ordered visibly annoyed. "This is no laughing matter."

"Sorry, ma'am," Casey said shamefaced.

"Any questions?"

"No, ma'am," Casey answered.

"Got one, General... Where am I supposed to live?"

"With your sister, of course," she stated straightforward. "One more thing, Agents Casey and Bartowski, we want you to go in and case the Buy More and surrounding areas. Look for possible weak sport and report them as such."

Without another word General Beckman ended the connection. He let out a deep sigh. Thus far he had really gotten the short end of the stick: a stupid job, moving back in with his sister, a fake relationship. In his opinion there was not much that could make this situation even worse.

Suddenly Casey burst into laughter again. Of course would the NSA agent find this situation amusing. It was nothing short of torture.

"You know that means you have to live next door to two geeks, don't you?" He just had to remind his reluctant colleague.

The gruff agent went from laughing fit to a terrifying scowl in mere seconds. To be on the safe side, he took a step back. Casey growled: "Well, you better go and tell the asset that her single days are officially over, Bartowski."