A/N When I first wrote this, a lot of people were blown away by the switch of using Carina as Gruber. Fake Name is like that all the way through, with a few exceptions. Just switch the characters around and the whole story moves like clockwork. One of those exceptions was the tooth-pulling scene, which was just unforgiveable. Surely Chuck could have finessed his way out of it in canon the way Carina does here. I was also able to achieve the same angst over the name reveal without romantic triangles.

This episode could have been so good that I find myself wondering sometimes if the slight changes that make it so awful were intentional. Certainly Ali Adler wrote netter scripts than this both before and since. A lot of the changes that I had to make to make the story good again depend on the whole season being different up to this point, so probably not. Unless…I had a conspiracy theory about the entire season occur to me yesterday, that it was sabotaged at the last minute, and the episodes rewritten, or in FN's case, modified slightly, to fit the new story, and it just didn't work. Probably not true, but it scans better than the idea that so many creative talents making so many mistakes all at once.

The lisping, overweight blob of grease said the first thing that came to his mind. "Rafe Gruber's a girl?"

"No, 'Rafe Gruber' doesn't exist," Carina said in her best Casey snarl. "I invented him because I got tired of killing everyone who thought ladies couldn't be assassins. But since you've just blown that cover, it looks like I'll have to fall back on the old tried and true." She brought up the revolver and cocked the hammer.

Its owner put up a hand in placation. "I'm sure my associate meant no disrespect, Miss…?"

"Gruber." Carina raised an eyebrow at the associate on the other side of the pistol.

"No," he stammered, "No disrespect."

Carina glared at her target for a second more, and suddenly smiled. "Well, I prefer my gentlemen callers respectful." She uncocked the gun and tossed it back to its owner. From her purse she pulled out the much larger automatic she preferred. "So tell me why you have a problem with my face-man."

The boss looked at John Casey, crouched on the floor. "The Alex Coburn I knew was a killer, but he was also straight-up, true blue. No way he'd work for no merc–" Carina frowned and raised her gun "–or any professional that wasn't Uncle Sam," he finished hastily.

"So you're saying my face-man is a fed?" She turned to her fallen partner. "That's a serious accusation, John. What do you think I ought to do about it?"

Casey touched the sore spot where the gun had hit his cheek. "Same as you always do, boss, kill me and find another patsy."

She walked over and looked down on him. "Why John, you'd have these nice, respectful gentlemen thinking I was nothing more than a common murderer." Reaching down, she gripped his shirt with one hand and hauled him to his feet with no apparent effort. She looked at the boss and his lieutenant. "Mr. and Mrs. Smith, do you think your four associates will be enough to strap him down?"

"My guys know what they're doing, Miss Gruber. Two and two, guys." Two to duct tape Casey's arms and legs to the chair, two to hold their guns against his kneecaps if he resisted.

"Two senior, four junior," noted Shaw.

"Good work, Carina," said Sarah into the mike. "Plan B is in motion."

"Here, Miss Gruber," said the boss. He put a roll of something on the bar. "These were passed to me by my old boss, but the times have changed, ain't had to use them in a while. Be a pleasure to see them used by a professional like you." He unrolled the bundle to reveal a collection of dental tools.

Carina looked the items over, selected a dental speculum. "You're right, Mr. Smith, times have changed. Put this stuff in a museum where it belongs." She went over to Casey. "Open wide, John."

When he resisted, one thug punched him in the gut and she slipped the tool in while his mouth was open. A few clicks kept it that way.

"What you gonna do?"

"There's no need to drill holes or pull teeth to get what you want, gentlemen. There are quite few points in the mouth where the simple application of pressure creates excruciating pain. He'll tell me what I want to know, and I won't even have to leave any marks on the body." She stuck her fingers in Casey's mouth.

The big man groaned, struggling against the tape.

Blob of grease lieutenant was a slow learner. "That don't look like much."

She frowned at him. "Perhaps you'd like me to demonstrate on you?"

"Yeah," said the boss. "Demonstrate."

Carina smiled at the fat, suddenly-sweating man. It didn't make him feel better. "Open up." She stuck the muzzle of her gun into his mouth. "Wouldn't want you to bite me. You understand."

He didn't bite her. If anything his mouth opened wider to scream when she pressed the nerves in his mouth that she hadn't pressed in Casey's.

She let go, wiped her fingers off in disgust. "Next time I charge extra for the lesson." She turned back to her taped partner. "Now, John, anything you care to tell me?"

Casey shook his head, and she reached for his mouth again.

Doors slammed open under the impact of heavy bars of metal. "FBI! Nobody move!"

Carina moved. Even as most of the thugs in the room fell to FBI tasers, she was clearing a path through to the nearest door, leaving a trail of downed agents in her wake. In moments she'd won freedom for herself and the two bosses, losing themselves down an alley before any of the agents could follow to see where they went. "Another time, gentlemen. You have my number."

Inside the bar, the 'unconscious' FBI agents stood and checked themselves over for injuries. Agent Shaw flipped back the visor on his helmet. "Good work everyone. Thank you for your assistance. Please give our regards to your station chief." He took off his shield and vest and left them on the bar, as did Sarah.

As the FBI took control of the situation, Sarah and Shaw cut Casey free and they left discreetly through the rear entrance.

"That went well."

Casey touched his sore cheek. "Could've gone better."

"Come on, Casey, that was a brilliant piece of improvisation by Carina and you know it."

"And I expect you're gonna want me to say it to her face, aren't you, Walker?"

"You'd say it to…some of our other associates."

That was true, and Casey would not lie, not about that. "Fine."

The van was where they'd left it, the CIA extras being more than enough to defeat the local car-jacking community. As they approached, Sarah's phone buzzed at her, and she dropped back a little to answer it as the van door opened. Carina was waiting for them inside.

"Agent Miller," said Shaw. "That was quick thinking in there. You saved your partner and the mission."

Carina's eyes lit with appreciation, and flicked over to Casey for his reaction. His obvious discomfort told her just how pleased he really was.

"Yeah, what he said." Casey tried to avoid the issue further by going around to the driver's side, but Shaw stopped him.

"I should drive, in case anyone who knows those two should see the van."

Casey grunted and went into the back. Carina wondered which would bother him more, not looking her direction all the way back, or the first aid kit she'd laid out for him. And…here came Sarah.

"That was Hannah. She's apparently got some information that's 'too good to share over the phone', so I'm going to take the garbage-mobile back to Langley before she explodes." She took a few steps away from the van, then stopped and turned. "Oh, Carina, that was–" But the side door had already slid shut and Shaw took that as his cue to pull out.

"Graboid, this is Perfection."

"Hey, Perfection, you're back!"

"How'd you know that, Graboid?"

"Well, I figured if you were outside you'd use Telescope instead of Perfection, because that is, after all, the purpose of a telescope, to see things that are far away–"

"You're babbling again, Graboid."

"Shutting up now."

"Were you listening in?"

"No, afraid not. They had me scheduled today, your op was routed through an FBI station…"

She knew that, and didn't care. "Fine. Does the name 'Alex Coburn' ring any bells for you, Graboid?"

"Just, ah, just some redacted files. He was born in Philadelphia and was once single, that's about all I've got."

"Well, that narrows it down some."

"I'll get right on it. Who needs to know?"

"No one. Keep it local."

"Not even Casey?"

"Especially not Casey."

"Hey, Sarah, you made it! Come on in!"

Sarah looked around at all the familiar faces in unfamiliar places. "What's all this? I thought you had some news for me."

"I do, but not just you, For everybody!" Hannah turned toward the open office door in the middle of the space. "Dave, Dave! She's here!"

He rolled back, looked out the door. "Finally? Thank God! Every minute I wait I'm an hour behind…" He walked out of his office and climbed up on a table. "Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, a lot of you know that this party is in honor of our new associate Hannah, but none of you knew why, until right now. It is with a sense of deep regret and foreboding that we have to let our dear friend go…"

The entire audience sighed out a negative.

"Yes, she must go," repeated Dave. "To her new posting as joint analytical and technical specialist to our Burbank office, hopefully to bring to it the same calm, order, and tranquility she has brought to us."

"May God have mercy on her soul," someone said, to general laughter.

Three cheers and a toast later, Sarah finally got a chance to talk with her friend. "They're promoting you? After a month?"

Hannah started ticking off her fingers. "They like my work, I fill two open spots, and I've the fewest ties to break…"

Sarah looked around at the crowded room. "Just every heart in two departments. And they're sending you to Castle?"

"You know it?"

No one more senior wanted to go. At least this one will stay in the car…"May God have mercy on your soul."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. At least I get to have one last breakfast there, she has the most amazing new breakfast chef…"

"How about I come by, tonight, and help you pack up a little?"

"I don't have much."

"That's why I said 'a little.'"

Carina stepped out of the shower, every sense alert. As 'Miss Gruber' she'd rented a small penthouse suite for the night. As Miss Gruber she showered. She fastened her towel in place and picked up the gun hidden under it. Something wasn't right in the outer room, and she reacted as Miss Gruber would. "Don't move."

"I'm not moving, Miss Gruber," said the blob of grease lieutenant. His boss had her encrypted watch in his hand.

"Are you really trying to steal from me?" Fortunately nothing of Carina was in Miss Gruber's suite.

"Not at all, not at all. I was just looking at your watch."

A Ring agent was holding her CIA watch. She gripped the edge of her towel, prepared to pull it off in case she needed a sudden distraction. "Why? What's it to you?"

"What's it to me?" He tossed her only link to the rest of her team out the window. "It ain't nearly classy enough for a classy dame like you. We, uh, acquired a new one on your behalf, a little thank you present for getting us out of that tight spot."

She took the stolen Rolex from grease-boy. "Thank you. I'll sweep it for bugs later. Now I'd like to get dressed, so get out before I make my own privacy."

"No can do, Miss Gruber," said grease-boy. "Your window of opportunity is shrunk, you got to move now."

"We located your target on your behalf, but we have to get going to do the job."

She lifted her gun. "Fine. Hand me that case. Scrub the room while I get ready. Then we'll move."

Sarah placed the stack of disks in the box, along with the books. "You're a techno-geek, you should be ashamed. You should have all this stuff digitized."

Hannah ran a finger down the binding of her favorite volume of poetry. "I like the feel, the smell of a book. Its weight. The sound of two notes together. Science may be digital but art is analog. It fills in the spaces when you live alone."

"Hey. You're not alone, not anymore. Don't think just because you're moving to LA you can get away with not writing. They have this thing called the Pony Express now."

Hannah grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

"Seriously, you have made a difference to a lot of lives, especially mine. So many things I never had the courage or motivation to do before, but now thanks to you…"

"You're becoming a real girl, with a real life."

"No," said Sarah, shaking her head. "I have those, I have the actions, I have the things, a friend showed me that. What I don't have is the words, so many things I've never said, or if I've said them, I've never meant. And that's something you showed me. We've been married for months but until a week ago, I never even told Charles my original name. Then I did, it just came out, and it was easy. I'm not weaker, or more vulnerable for it. I'm relieved. Thank you."

"I'm relieved."

Carina lifted her head from the scope, took off the phones. She'd known Sarah Walker for years. Years! Who deserved the truth first, more than her? Who deserved the thanks?

A voice cut through the sudden pounding in her head. "Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot!"

What would Rafe Gruber do? She knew what Carina Miller would do and that was sure as hell not the right thing right now. "Which one? There's two girls in that room. Who's the target?"

"Her name is Hannah."

"That would really help if she was wearing a badge that said 'Hi, my name is Hannah', but since she isn't how am I supposed to know which one to kill?"

"Just shoot 'em both."

"I don't do freebies!" She abandoned the perch, picked up her pistol, checked the clip reflexively, and headed for the door.

"Where you going?"

"I'm going to ask them their names," she said sweetly. And God help her if she didn't get the right answer.