A/N: This was a pretty hard chapter to write, I have to admit. In the process I went through a lot of ideas written and scratched since they wouldn't work in the bigger picture. It did lead to getting a good head start for Chapter 14 though, and I think that chapter will be the one Charah fans have been looking forward too, at least for now... Okay, okay, I'm being mean by teasing like that *insert demonic laughter* I can only hope that I will do it justice, :-).
A huge thank you to all you awesome people for reading and reviewing! And a warm welcome to people who have started to follow this story!
pizza: I always thought that Carina was underused in the show. She could've caused a truckload of interesting problems for Team Bartowski, which is why I brought her in as a more leading character this soon. And Bryce, he'll get his spotlight again.
uplink2: I get where you're coming from with the name, but since Sarah did give it as her birth name in that specific episode, I went with it. I hated the whole Shaw story arc and the diminishing of Sarah's character that came with it, though Shaw will make an appearance sometime in the near future and we'll be done with him. No spoilers there though. As for Bryce, he'll start to have a more substantial role as the story continues, and should be back as a pov in Chapter 14.
Jon: Two dance partners for Chuck? Well, that should be answered in this chapter ;-) And yes, Casey was a bit of a bully in the last chapter, but there's an explanation for it.
Jimmy 144: Lol!
Nomadic Nerd: To be honest, I always thought that Chuck accepted his Intersect fate a little too easily. Sure he resisted from time to time, but most of the time he just went along with everything that was imposed on him. Or at least that's how it appeared to me. I wanted Sam to be a little more resisting so she's pissed off about a lot of things, but what that is, will be tended to in Chapter 14, ;-P
As always, reviews are most welcome and very much appreciated... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Chuck'.
He groaned barely audible; Carina was unrelenting in her gestures of affection, and there was nothing he could do about it. Either he would blow their cover, and with that their mission, or she would take it as a hint to continue. Smoking out and catching La Ciudad had the highest priority, so all he could do was suffer in silence. Though he had to give it to Carina: so far she had stuck to the script, but given her reputation he wondered how long it would last.
Technically he had nothing to complain about, a beautiful woman like Carina wrapped around him did flatter his ego, but she was laying it on thick. Too thick, if you asked him, but that was Carina in a nutshell.
He caught sight of Sam, who was making another round with a tray full with glasses of champagne. She moved quite graciously, something he had not really expected, with a polite smile on her face. A sad smile appeared on his face instead. Why was she so very angry with him?
Sure he had been stupid and Ellie had made sure that he had understood that bringing home another woman, even if she was just a colleague, was most definitely not the best way to impress his girlfriend. He got that, but it had to be more than that, and whatever if was, he could not right the wrongs if he had no idea what the wrongs were.
Maybe he could talk her after the mission? Or maybe tomorrow? Or-
"Chuckie, darling," Carina derailed his train of thoughts. "Stop checking out that waitress," she added in a haughty tone, loud enough to draw the attention of some bystanders.
"Carina," he sighed.
Feeling a blush creep up his neck, he shook his head slowly and tried to come up with the right words, but all he could do was stare at his partner in some disbelief. He had not really been checking out Sam, had he? Again he shook his head; his thoughts had taken over, and the fact that he had been looking in Sam's direction had been a mere coincidence.
The first hour of her shift had been uneventful at best. As to be expected the high-profile guests would be fashionably late, and the ones who were already there were few and widespread. In a way it meant that she was lucky, since she was supposed to flash and those were disabling and disorientating. Plus they gave her a weird nagging headache.
With no flashes so far and few guests to tend to, she leaned back near the bar and watched Chuck and the redhead get into what appeared a small argument.
"Stand up straight, Walker," Casey instructed her, holding a cloth out to her.
She took it and looked at him confused.
"If you've got nothing to do, you better give me a hand. Those glasses don't shine themselves. First rule in jobs like this one: always look busy," he explained to her. "It's bad for business if the waiting staff looks bored out of their mind."
"I got it," she nodded while she picked up the first glass.
She worked on the glasses in silence for a few minutes while Casey tended to a few guests at the bar. In an odd way, doing a simple menial chore like this appealed to her calm center. It was a meaningless job, mind-numbing actually, but it gave her time to slow down and examine her state of mind.
She had not really been herself as of late. Not since Bryce had found her on the floor. Contrary to her own belief, she had let rage and frustration take over, dictate her mood and behavior. It was not like her to be so reared. Usually she would sit down and study the problem before letting emotions take over. Then again, feelings were not her thing, especially when it came down to talking about them.
All the anger and frustration she had felt these past few days, it had been an accumulation of a lot of things. Events and emotions, and this time around she owed an explanation to Chuck, who wrongly had become the representation of all that was wrong in her life today. Only a small part had actually been his fault, and for the most part all he had done was try and come up with ways to help her.
She nodded for no apparent reason than agreeing with herself that she would explain and apologize to Chuck the first real chance she would get. Whether that be tonight or tomorrow.
She smiled mischievously. It was so very easy for her to embarrass him and rattle his cage. Especially, since she had discovered that the leggy, coppery-blond was a bit of a hot button for him. Oh yes, it was so very easy. Nevertheless she was not out to get either of them, just give them a subtle nudge in the right direction. With style, of course.
Her head shot up when she recognized the music and her mischievous smile widened. This was perfect. A saucy tango set to an instrumental version of Tango de Roxanne, from the movie Moulin Rouge. She had to convince Chuck, but the odds were not impossible.
She quickly moved to his side and grabbed him by the tie: "Dance with me, Chuckie," she whispered in his ear. "You owe me."
"Eh, I owe you?" He sounded confused.
She glanced at Sam, a smirk gracing her face.
"You will," she breathed. "Com'on, Chuck. Let's see if all that CIA training has paid off."
He grunted annoyed, much to her amusement. Yet he still took his jacket off, handed it to the person closest to him and rolled up his sleeves. She motioned him to come closer, and winced slightly when he took strong hold of her hands in a first tango position. The harsh expression on his face, his stance, it was not his first tango. She was impressed, and that was not something that happened often.
"Well, I see the taxpayer money was not wasted on you,"she whispered in his ear as he pulled her close.
"You do know that Roxanne was a prostitute, right?" He asked in a soft voice while he ran his fingers up her upper arms.
"Lines like 'you don't have to sell your body to the night' are quite the clues, but I won't judge," she smiled seductively. "I'm sure I could teach her a thing or two. Or you, for that matter," she said, moving in for a kiss but stopping at less than an inch from his mouth.
"Ha, not interested," he whispered before he pushed her away in a twirl. "But I'm impressed that you know the lyrics," he added in a little louder voice as he pulled her towards him again.
"You don't know what you're missing, Chuckie," she grinned after she came back in front of him.
"Which makes me a member of a very select group, I'm sure."
"Touché," she laughed.
She loved this kind of banter with him. Having worked with him on a few cases in the past, she knew what she could expect of him. Witty remarks, a few accusations when she would not follow the script, but he always had her back. Of all the temporary partners she had worked with, he had to be her favorite. Which was another reason as to why she was willing to help out.
"Attention," he warned her.
She hooked her right leg around his thighs and pressed her left knee into his right thigh,before he circled around and around.
The song was drawing to a close and she decided to heat things up even more. Undoing his tie and the top buttons of his dress shirt before kissing his neck, she giggled when he nearly dropped her out of the lift: "Gotta sell it, Chuckie."
She desperately tried not to look in their direction, but just like everyone else present, her gaze was drawn to the couple on the dance floor. With her mouth agape, all she could do was stare at them. Sizzling, sexy, and they were both selling it. If she had not known better, she could have sworn she was watching lovers entangled in a heated foreplay. She was in awe by how graciously the two spies moved, as if they had done nothing else in their lives than work on this tango, made to look effortless.
Despite her deeper emotions slowly reaching boiling point, she had to be impressed by the fact that they did not trip over each other, given the intricacy of their tango.
'Forget making amends,' her mind told her when a sharp stab of jealousy pierced her heart and soul.
"Hey, quit screwing around, Walker. Finish your round," Casey came in over the ear-piece. "See if you flash."
She looked over her shoulder towards the bar where Casey stood glaring at her and gave him a small nod in confirmation,before turning her attention back to the task at hand. For no more than ten seconds she managed to keep her focus, but then was drawn back to watching Chuck and Carina.
"Walker!" Casey barked in her ear, causing her to nearly drop the tray with glasses of champagne.
"Damnit," she hissed through gritted teeth, earning a curious look from one of the guests closest to her which she answered with a polite, apologetic smile. "Sorry."
With Carina finally leaving his side to work the room, he turned to the masterpiece of the art auction. At least that was what it was supposed to be, but he knew better. The painting, though considered real, had no real value, not to an arms dealer anyway. It was the frame that should draw La Ciudad out. The NSA and CIA had increased the back-channel chatter on it to bait him or her.
"Beautiful painting," a female voice with a thick Hispanic accent said behind him.
"What's that?"
"The painting?"
"It definitely has a quality about it, not like his 'San Giorgio Twilight' or 'Woman with a Parasol'," he had to draw knowledge from his high school art history classes.
"What?"
"You have no idea what I'm talking about," he stated, somewhat relieved that the woman was not knowledgeable on art, and that he did not have to keep up the appearance of connoisseur.
"Sorry," she said with a slight smile, extending her hand. "I'm Malena."
"Charles Anderson, but you can call me Chuck," he introduced himself in a most charming manner, pressing a kiss on the back of her extended hand.
"So you don't like the painting?"
"I do, but it's rather boring. Still, it's a Monet, and worth it's money. Especially the frame is unique."
"I see."
Sam came up at his side with a half empty tray and smiled politely. She had the role of waitress down and he was sure that Casey had instructed her well.
"Champagne?" He asked Malena.
"Sure, yeah," the woman answered with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
'She's hiding something,' he concluded while they both turned to the waitress to take a glass from the tray. After that it all went sideways in a matter of seconds when he saw the signs of a flash and quickly grabbed the tray before Sam could drop it. She stumbled back a little, and he hoped Casey would pick up his hand signal. The big agent immediately left his spot and came over.
"What's wrong with her?" Malena asked, sounding intrigued and spooked at the same time.
He had to think on his feet. How could he cover this up without raising suspicion? The flash had to be connected to his conversation partner. An idea came to mind. He placed the tray on the nearest table, went back to Sam and made a show of sniffing around her.
"Drunk, I fear," he answered, waving his hand near his nose as he pretended to get rid of the alcohol stench.
"Haven't you been paying attention, good man?" Chuck asked with disdain when he reached them. "She's clearly drunk as a skunk."
"I'm so sorry, ma'am, sir," he said with an apologetic smile. "Good staff is hard to find these days."
He wrapped a hand firmly around Sam's upper arm to drag her off but not before he shot a questioning look at his partner. Chuck gave a confirming nod.
"It's fine," the brunette said with a thick accent.
"Come along," he pretended to be annoyed with his help, dragging her towards the bar. "This is the last time I hire you."
"It's her," Sam breathed when they left hearing distance. "The scar on her neck... La Ciudad... It's her."
He looked back at Chuck before he scanned the room for Carina. She was occupied with what could be identified as a goon. It brought a smile to his face; Carina was a loose cannon, but she did sense things like no other agent he had known. Mostly when to start trouble, but sometimes she was right on the money.
His eyes came back to his partner. After their little scuffle yesterday, he had found a new respect for the CIA-nerd. The kid was not as helpless as he appeared to be, and with his ability to come up with last-minute plans, he was certain that Chuck already had come up with a plan to play this out.
He had been downright furious for being the last one to know, and had directed the most immediate anger at Bartowski, but after cooling down he had come to realize it had been out of the nerd's hands. Still, it was not enough to warrant an apology from him. That would require an extreme out-of-hand situation, and the little wrestling was no such thing.
Chuck gave him another nod and his eyes traveled down to see the hand signal. Time to call in the cavalry. La Ciudad had not become the world's most dangerous and elusive weapons dealer by being careless.
"Go to the kitchen and stay there," he instructed her when he gave her a little push in the right direction.
She muttered a curse of protest under her breath, causing him to grunt: "Now, Walker!"
If anything were to happen to the Intersect, there would be so much red tape, it would be enough to sink a star-cruiser. He watched her retreat to the kitchen and went back to his spot behind the bar. Typing the message with half an eye on the crowd for the second goon, he gave the final instructions to the SWAT team on standby. Maybe it would not be necessary,but he liked to have a backup plan in case things went south in the blink of an eye.
"I have to say, Mr. Anderson-"
"Please, call me Chuck," he insisted with a friendly smile.
"Okay, Chuck. I have to say that that tango was most impressive." Malena returned his smile.
"My wife and I are dance instructors," he gave the first explanation that came to mind, surprising even himself with it.
"I see," she nodded.
He was happy that he had worked out a hand signal system with Casey and Carina in case there could be no verbal confirmation of their target. At least now he knew who he was dealing with; La Ciudad, who surprisingly turned out to be a woman.
"We lived in Buenos Aires for over a year to study the real tango," he added another lie.
"I love a good tango," she said with some nostalgia to her voice.
Only now he noticed the notes of another tango.
"Sweet and a little aggressive," she continued while he took her glass away, and placed it on the nearest table along with his.
She had just handed him the last piece of information to form a plan that would work with minimal risk. This time he would have to leave his jacket on. There was no chance to hide the zip-tie he had stashed in the inside pocket of his jacket on his person.
He held out his hand to her in a silent order, and she reacted with an amused smile: "You did study it, Chuck. How does your wife feel about this?"
"Dance instructors," he reminded her. "She's used to seeing me dance with other women."
'God! Again?' She thought bitterly when she looked at the scene unfolding on the dance floor.
She had pushed the door to the kitchen open wide enough to see what was going on. Casey and Carina were nowhere in sight so she assumed that they had taken care of the two huge guys who had escorted the brunette, she had identified as La Ciudad.
She rubbed the center of her forehead with her index and middle finger, and sighed. Did she even have a chance? Bryce teased her with her two left feet on occasion, though she did have a good feeling for rhythm. Not that it stopped her from tripping over her own feet.
An idea popped into her mind. It brought a smile to her face. If she could learn how to fight and defend herself, maybe she could learn to dance too? She had the perfect victim to take lessons with her in mind: Bryce. Surely he would jump on the opportunity to do something with her, now that she would have less time for him with all the things going on in her life. It should make up for something.
Perhaps next time a mission like this would come their way, she would be the one dancing with Chuck? Her smile widened at the prospect. Feeling less useless and less envious – that was the right word for it, she decided -, she turned her attention back to the main room, to the tangoing couple. So far it appeared to calm and peaceful, but recent events had taught her that could change at the drop of a hat.
A quick scan of the room told him that Carina and Casey had been able to successfully remove La Ciudad's assumed henchmen and with the tango coming to an end, it was time to play out the last part of the plan, the dip-drop-arrest. He smirked at the name he had come up for it. If he planned it carefully, the risks involved were minimal.
He dipped her in the end pose and was about to let her drop to get the upper hand when he felt something hard press into the soft flesh underneath his ribcage.
"I would not do that," she warned him.
He glanced down to see her holding a small handgun.
"You're going to pull me up and we'll walk out of here, Mr. Anderson, or should I say Agent Carmichael."
It did surprise that she knew his spy alias, but he managed to keep it from showing on his face.
"Do you think me a fool? I didn't get to where I am today by being careless."
Without Carina and Casey to come to his rescue soon, he had no other option than to cooperate with the arms dealer. Death was an occupational hazard, and one he would like to avoid for as long as possible. There was no point in trying to be a hero if the odds were against him. He pulled her up carefully, not knowing if she had an itchy trigger finger.
"Move," she told him, nodding towards the exit.
The only thing left was for Chuck to apprehend the woman. She saw Chuck glance around. The agitated manner sent up a red flag instantly, and she pushed the door open a little more for a better view. The odd positioning, the slight raise of his hands, La Ciudad had made him.
Her eyes searched for any sign of the two seasoned agents, but there was no sight of either Carina and Casey. La Ciudad was a coldblooded killer who took pleasure in killing any potential witness, let alone any true witness. Maybe it was nothing Chuck could not deal with, but he was in trouble and she was the only one left to help him.
She looked around the kitchen and saw an empty tray: "That could work," she muttered as a plan slowly started to form in her mind.
After stashing the tray under her arm, she sauntered out into the main room, keeping an eye on her targets. She had to wait before she could take action so she simply trailed at a safe distance. They had reached a nearly deserted corridor leading to the elevators. Her heart was racing, thumping loudly in her chest, as adrenaline coursed through her body. This was it. If she wanted to save Chuck, she had to act.
A few big paces had her come up behind the deadly brunette fast. She took a sturdy hold of the tray, swung it back and smacked the woman across the upper back: "Down you go," she commented with a satisfactory smile.
It felt quite liberating, after all she had to endure this evening, to see that woman go down face first. A gun clattered to the floor and slipped out of reach. Chuck immediately sprang into action and pressed a knee firmly on La Ciudad's spine while he reached inside his jacket and took out a zip-tie.
"You are under arrest on possession of illegal and/or stolen weapons, illegal trafficking of contraband weapons and/or ammunition, multiple counts of murder, multiple counts of assault and battery, and money laundering," he summarized, grabbing the woman's hands, pulling them behind her back and zip-tying them.
"¡Maldita sea! Vete al infierno, imbécil!" The brunette seethed while she struggled against the restraints.
He turned his head a little to look at her: "Nice work," he smiled before he gave her a thumbs up.
She knew that he was just being polite, because the smile never reached his eyes, and she had a pretty good idea as to why: no matter what she would do, she would always be the asset and she had put herself in harm's way to save him. Though it was quite discouraging, it would not keep her from working towards becoming a real spy, if only because they-
"Go find Casey or Carina," he instructed her with another smile, not moving from his kneeling position to keep their captive from escaping.
She gave him a nod and went to look for the other agents, bumping into Carina as the redhead re-entered the lobby.