A/N: A huge thank you to the readers, the reviewers and the followers. You're awesome!

I have to admit that I had a little trouble getting started on this chapter this week, not by the lack of ideas but because I kept getting distracted by other... "Oh, hey there, doggie" ... things.

JustMyLuckiness: Thank you for all the reviews!

ChuckFanForever: It is the plan to stay close to the series characters, so that means Casey will get on Chuck's case quite often.

Nomadic Nerd: Changed the game plan, muhahaha, and switched a few things around, but I fear you might be onto something with chapter 7 or 8, if I interpreted the 'muhahaha!' correctly.

RAB: "Two intersects." That angle will come into play for the first time soon.

As always, reviews are most welcome and very much appreciated... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Chuck'.

So far the only sounds heard in the apartment was Bryce rummaging through the kitchen in an attempt to find something for dinner, and the occasional sigh she would let out. She was beyond exhaustion but knew that the liberating sleep would not come soon.

The liquid danced in the tumbler and she watched it swirl. Maybe a glass of whiskey would bring some relaxation? She snorted in disbelief. Like that was going to happen.

Bryce had been a sweetheart by offering to take over cooking duty, which she had happily accepted, out of fear that in her woozy state of mind she would burn the water and set fire to the apartment. Still she could not escape the feeling that this was only the calm before storm.

"So this guy, this Chuck, Ellie's brother, he's the reason why you look like an extra on Night of the Living Dead?" Bryce asked from the kitchen.

"Uh, no, and gee thanks," she grumbled insulted, studying the way her drink swirled in the glass.

"Com'on, Sam. He shows up and you're all out of sorts suddenly."

"I had already hit my head before that," she muttered in attempt to deflect. "You try keeping your thoughts together with a splitting headache... And what do you mean "out of sorts"?"

"Suddenly interested in fashion, worrying about your looks, staying out all night," he answered in a casual manner.

She rolled her eyes, not at all liking where this conversation was heading. Though she was most sure that his primary motive was genuine concern, it did not mean he did not have a hidden agenda. She had been hanging out with him enough to know that he could be quite the manipulative buttinski. Especially when a guy was showing interest in her.

Not that he had any designs on her, far from it. She knew that he loved her like the sister that he never had, and the feeling was mutual. Yet it also meant that he had gotten it into his head that it was his obligation to vet the potential boyfriend. It was sweet and annoying at the same time, because he had already nipped two blossoming relationships in the bud in the past.

"Bryce," she sighed warily in spite of his good intentions. "Chuck's Ellie's brother. I didn't want to show up looking like some dusty librarian, and I couldn't sleep because of the headache so I went for a walk."

To anyone else it would have most likely been a sufficient explanation, but this was Bryce.

"In the middle of the night? Alone? Are you insane?" He exclaimed shocked.

She rolled her eyes; she could tell him that she had had a shadow, but that would require too much explaining.

"And that guy you dragged to the home theater room, who was that?" He did not relent.

"That was Chuck," she admitted hesitantly.

"That was Chuck," he echoed and she felt her annoyance rise a level. "What did he want?"

"Nothing, Bryce," she snapped at him.

"Locked doors, closed curtains, just you, and him. That's not nothing. It's how people get talking, Sam," he argued.

"I don't care," she said defiantly before she took a big pull of her drink, grimacing when it burned in the back of her throat. "And it's none of your business anyway," she coughed.

"You're right. It isn't, but I am worried about you. I know you, Sam, and you haven't been acting like yourself the past two days," he conceded.

She suppressed the snort of contempt. Like she had not realized that herself. The Intersect was weighing heavily on her mind, and it did not allow her to sleep so her thoughts and coordination were off. However it was nothing a full, good night's sleep could not fix.

"Can we not talk about it, please?" She growled in a last ditch effort to stop this interrogation.

"Okay, fine... Dinner's almost done," he grumbled darkly.

With his hands folded under his head he stared at the ceiling of the guest room. 'It's just for a couple of days,' he told himself in thoughts. 'And then we can all go back to our old lives.'

Did he really want to? Sure he had his life and work in Bakersfield, but being around his sister and her boyfriend made him realize how much he missed the only family he had left. Again it had absolutely nothing to do with Sam.

"Who am I kidding?" He mumbled to himself.

Since he had finally met her he had felt stupid for avoiding to meet her for such a long time. Maybe they would not have been in a pretend relationship, but in a real one instead? Maybe he could have intercepted the Intersect file in that case? Maybe the Intersect would have been uploaded into his brain as had been the intention?

So many maybes, but what was done was done. Besides until only very recently he had assumed that he would never be able to get over Jill. It gave him the tiniest bit hope for the future, because, if he could move on, then maybe he would have a family one day.

"Sam! Get in here!" Big Mike bellowed for the second morning in a row.

Though she had barely slept last night, maybe dozed off a few times, and she had made sure that she had been well on time for her shift this morning, so she was rather confused as to why Big Mike wanted to see her.

Maybe it had to do with the aftermath of the disaster that had been John Casey? She had to admit that Jeff and Lester had been asking for it with their stalkerish behavior. However it had been a poor display to treat your new coworkers like that. So it had been no surprise to her that at the end of the day the NSA had been fired, and in a way she was happy to see him gone. Ever since she had seen that murderous glint in his eyes, she had felt uneasy whenever he was around. Like he would kill her if she were to look at him the wrong way.
"Yes, Big Mike?" She lingered in the doorway.

"Got another new guy for you to train," her boss said. "Given yesterday's catastrophe, try to keep this one in line."

As if out of nowhere, a tall, lanky figure materialized next to her.

"Maybe Bryce would be-" She broke off her objection when she realized who was right beside her. "Chuck?"

He was dressed in the standard Nerd Herder's outfit of a white shirt, gray tie and black slacks. Her heart sank. If he had been a green shirt, she might have been able to pass him off to Bryce. An annoyed sigh escaped her; things were just getting better and better.

"Good. You know each other, so that might save me some trouble. It would be a shame to waste Mr. Bartowski's talents in sales, so I put him with the Herd," Big Mike explained.

They had quietly made their way to the Nerd Herd desk, but now she stared at him with brooding eyes. Those hypnotic blue eyes had turned cold as glaciers, and he swallowed hard. For some reason it unsettled him having her look at him like that.

"It was not enough to be my pretend boyfriend? You had to come and work here as well?" She hissed through closed teeth. "What's next? Move in with me?"

"Uh, no," he stammered. "It wasn't really my choice though."

"You could've declined the job, botched the interview," she offered making no attempt to hide her anger.

He smiled wryly, readying himself to take a step back in case she would try to hit him: "You don't ignore a direct order from your superior, and since Casey-"

"God, Casey, that ape!" She exclaimed.

"He messed up yesterday, so I have to take over," he stated.

He knew that he could have gone against Beckman's order, and that would have meant that he would have been sent back to his desk in Bakersfield, only to be given the worst assignments unless it involved Project Omaha. The project and the Intersect were his expertise. A newly assigned agent would need to be read in.

Who was to know if his replacement would not simply put in a request for a bunker drop or worse? He could not take the chance. Sam, as the Intersect, was his top priority now and if that meant that he had to play according the rules with his superiors once in a while, so be it.

"Fine, but know that I won't be putting up with any bullshit today. Not after Casey's stunts yesterday," she warned him with another glacial glare.

He gulped nervously. To see her so temperamental did something to him, caused his heartbeat to pick up a little. It was the sleep deprivation, the fact that she now belonged to the government, that had her act so grumpy. Well, at least that's what he hoped for.

"I wasn't planning to be some kind of Casey clone," he offered in palliation.

"Good, happy we're clear on that matter."

Seeing his best friend with that Chuck character immediately put him on edge. The guy was showing up a little too much for his taste. He narrowed his eyes and studied the interaction between the two of them. There was something fishy going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He owed Sam that much.

He sauntered over to the two Nerd Herders and put an easy but fake smile on his face. It was time that he met this Chuck Bartowski: "Hello?"

Sam immediately turned to him, with a guilty look in her eyes. He found that to be quite peculiar, as if he had just caught her red-handedly doing something she definitely should not be doing.

"Bryce, this is Chuck. Chuck, this is Bryce."

She immediately introduced them to each other in an obvious attempt to stop him from studying her.

The tall man immediately extended his hand and smiled friendly at him: "Hey, Bryce, I heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally be able to put a face to the stories Ellie told me about you."

He tilted his head a little to the left. It had not sounded slick or rehearsed, but spontaneous and genuine. Whatever the reason, it made him even more apprehensive; this guy was good.

"Only good things, I hope," he said with a faux smirk while he shook Chuck's hand.

Chuck did not react to his attempt to crush his hand. Instead he only smiled amused and nodded: "Mostly."

"Sam told me you're going on a date?" He checked bluntly.

"Bryce," Sam said in a low hiss.

"Tonight," Chuck replied.

"Tonight," he repeated, the look of surprise on Sam's face not going unnoticed. "Where?"

The guy laughed warmly: "I don't see why that would be any of your business."

That answer rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe Sam could be a little naive when it came to dating and relationships, but he was not born yesterday. So he saw it as his job to protect her from pushy guys, like this Chuck Bartowski. At least that was what he kept telling himself. However there was another, deeper reason for his suspicious thinking: he did not want to lose his best friend to a man who clearly did not deserve her.

He clenched his fists at his sides and smiled scornfully. Someone was really going to get it now! One funny look from anyone, and there would be hell to pay. Though he did prefer it to be either Scooter or that damn Bartowski.

'You have to be frakking kidding me!' He grunted with disgust when he checked his reflection in the restaurant's window once more. Dressed in a red and white checkered shirt, onyx colored lederhosen with suspenders, white slouch socks and black haferl shoes, he looked every bit the jester. What made it even worse was that onyx colored Bavarian hat with a red feather.

His eyes narrowed to angry slits when he wondered if the CIA nerd had known about this ridiculous attire and if that was why he had tranqed Scooter. Although his supervisor had given him ample reason to shoot him.

He glanced over his shoulder at his supervisor and pondered over the thought if someone would actually miss him if he disappeared all of a sudden. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he gave it a lot more thought. Now that was a pleasant idea.

"Mr. Casey," Scooter interrupted his daydreaming.

Immediate his anger and annoyance returned and he snarled, causing the supervisor to take a step back quickly: "What?"

"As interesting as your thoughts might be, Mr. Casey, there is work to be done around here. Now I want you to go outside and clean up the tables," Scooter instructed him after a glance at his watch.

Going outside in this outfit was the very last thing he wanted to do. How was he supposed to demand respect dressed like this? What if the asset or the moron saw him?

"Now, Mr. Casey."

He glared furiously at the obnoxious man and went outside. 'Who will miss you?'

"Thanks, buddy," he said in a soft voice to an empty room when he saw that Morgan had packed some of his favorite clothes.

It was not a real date, just a simple dinner before he would take her to the Buy More. He had texted Casey earlier to set up the meet with the good doctor to test Sam and he assumed that the NSA agent would come through.

Dinner first, so he thought that it would not hurt to put a little effort into his appearance. If anything, it would help sell the cover.

"Chuck, you home?" He heard his sister call from the living room.

"In here!" He called back while he tried to make up his mind on what shirt to wear."

"Hey," Ellie greeted him happily when she entered his temporary room.

"Hi?" He grinned.

Just like he had expected her gaze immediately trailed to the suitcase and clothes on the bed.

"What do you think of this shirt?" He asked insecurely.

Her eyes narrowed a little and she looked at him curiously.

"Before you say anything," he began, knowing he had to contain her enthusiasm. "Yes, it is a date, and yes, it is with Sam."

A weird sound slipped out. Suppressed excitement contorted her face. His big sister was so very predictable. He chuckled.

"So... you do like her?" She managed to ask.

"No, I hate her. That's why I'm going to wine and dine her, then chop her up in little pieces and dump her off the coast near Marina del Rey," he paused intentionally to gauge her reaction, only to grin when her face fell in confusion. "Com'on, sis, you know me. I won't date someone I don't like."

"That's the problem, little brother. You've been gone from my life for so long, I feel like I don't really know you anymore... And you dated Jill."

He blinked a few times in order to not roll his eyes. The dreaded topic had finally been broached. He was well aware that Jill was in first place on Ellie's list of hated people, which was an incredibly short list.

"Dated being the operative word," he said. "Tonight I'm going out with Sam," he added in an attempt to divert the conversation.

It sorted the desired result. Flashing him another happy grin, she sifted through his clothes and put an outfit together.

"Nothing fancy, right?" She made sure.

"Right," he nodded.

"Sam?" He managed to squeeze out in a breath.

The look on Chuck's face was absolutely priceless and definitely worth the effort and the money. After their shifts at the Buy More had ended she had dragged a moody Bryce to the mall to buy something decent to wear. His grumpy behavior had been surprising as he had been pushing her to come to the mall with him for the longest time.

With little help from her best friend, she had settled on skintight black jeans, a formfitting black t-shirt,and a black pull-over with a pale pink floral design. Only after that, Bryce had come around and had dragged her off to a shoe store.

As long as she didn't have to run in these things, she was certain she could pull off wearing high heeled boots. All she had to do was keep her balance and stay upright, which had already been a lot harder than she had anticipated moving around the apartment. It was going to be an interesting night, and she only hoped she would not pull a typical 'clumsy Sam'-act.

Though Bryce had tried to change her mind, she still had said no to dying her hair and to the use of make-up. He had gone back to his disgruntled child behavior after that, not understanding that this already was a big deal for her and that she was taking baby steps to get comfortable.

Now her date simply stood there with a bouquet of assorted flowers in his hand, gawking at her with his mouth agape. She fought of the need to giggle at his rather sheepish reaction. Quite suddenly he shook his head, only to do another double take.

He closed his mouth, swallowed noticeable a few times and seemed to remember that he had brought her flowers as he held them out to her awkwardly.

"Thank you," she said shyly after accepting the bouquet. "Bryce? Can you put these on water, please?" She asked in a sweet voice when he appeared at her side.

"Sure," Bryce muttered chagrined and took the flowers from her. "Have fun. Don't come home late, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Which isn't much," she said in a spur of self-confidence, or giddiness. She was not sure about that herself.

Bryce simply sighed while Chuck was grinning radiantly.

"But I'll remember and be a good girl..., dad," she smirked to which Bryce reacted with another sigh.

"Ready to go?" Chuck asked, clearly having found his voice back.

"Hmm-mmm," she answered after she grabbed her purse and jacket and stepped out of the apartment.