A/N: We really appreciate the reviews and feedback, folks! Means a lot! Thanks so much! We hope you enjoy this next chapter, too!
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Morgan kicked at a small pebble, sending it skittering ahead of Chuck, and as he came upon the same pebble, he kicked it forward with the rubber toe of his Converse, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"You still have that number, right?" Morgan finally asked, breaking the silence.
"Oh my God, yes! Yes, I have it. It's in my pocket, man."
"Okay!" His friend held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just checking. Because I really think you need to reconsider—"
"I'm not reconsidering," Chuck interrupted.
"—calling that crazy hot girl."
"No."
"Chuck, come on! She left her number for you."
He snorted and shook his head. "It's probably one of those numbers you call and it's a robot saying, 'You got plaaayed, sucka!' And I really don't think my self-esteem can take that kind of a hit again."
"What again?" Chuck gave Morgan a look at that and his friend rolled his eyes. "Ohhh, man. Come on. Not Jill again. Screw that stupid girl, okay? A woman who is way hotter and already waaay nicer than Jill ever was or will be was flirting with you, my dude. She had sparkles in those mesmerizing blue eyes. You gave her eye-sparkles!"
"I did not! She was just nice."
"She was charmed. Call her."
"Morgster, listen. You're my best friend, so you're biased. I appreciate that about you. Really. But also did you see her? Did you see how incredibly gorgeous she is?" he asked, leading Morgan around the corner and hopping up onto the sidewalk as they made their way towards his apartment complex.
"Yeah! I was standing right there, dude! So what?"
"So what? Look at me!"
"All I see is a stud, dude. A straight-up stud."
Chuck scoffed. "No. A nerd in a stupid Nerd Herd uniform with a pocket protector, hair I didn't have time to even try to brush this morning 'cause I overslept—"
"Maybe so. Maybe you are all those things." Chuck made a face as Morgan scrambled up in front of him and turned to stop him, a hand on his shoulder. "But you have a heart of gold."
"Oh my Godddd," Chuck groaned, laughing and shaking his head as he pushed past his best friend to keep walking.
"No! Chuck, I'm serious! That whole production you staged for her today, with that cute ballerina and her technologically clueless dad! That was A plus in Charm School, man! Hook, line, and sinker…" He mimed fishing gestures.
"What production? I didn't do it for her. I thought she'd left already because I just, like, ugh, I just left her there. But that guy really needed help and I felt bad for him, ya know?" He shrugged.
"That's exactly what I mean! And she knew that! She saw it! She's probably thinkin' about ya right now, wondering why you aren't calling." He smacked Chuck in the shoulder. "I know you don't think much of yourself, man. But I mean it when I say you're a stud."
"Stop calling me a stud. It's making me uncomfortable."
"Fine! Fine…"
Chuck used the moment of silence to ponder Morgan's insistence that he call the woman from the store. Sarah. But it was ridiculous. He imagined her leaving her number because of her phone. It was most likely that. Maybe she had another question about her phone. And he said that out loud to Morgan as they neared his complex.
"Okay, so she needs help with her phone. Why don't you call her?" was Morgan's immediate response.
Chuck groaned. That blew up in his face.
He didn't want to call her. He didn't want to call a woman who was obviously so much cooler, so much nicer, so much prettier than the woman who'd absolutely destroyed his heart and his ability to trust people in general—not even just women. He wasn't going to do women the disservice of thinking they would all treat him the way Jill had. But relationships were lost all the time, and he'd been abandoned enough that… Well, trusting anyone outside of his family—Morgan counted as family—was incredibly hard.
What if he called and she wasn't interested? After all of this stupid back and forth with Morgan, the little guy actually doing quite a bit to pump him up even if he wasn't admitting it. And what scared him more was that maybe she was interested…
"I just think you should call this girl, man...That's all I'm saying. She is stunning and you are missing out on a huge opportunity."
"Maybe I don't deserve a huge opportunity until I'm not such a wreck. Ever think of that?" he asked as they walked through the gate and into the courtyard. "You seem so concerned with her getting a call, so why don't you just call her?" He went into his pocket and pulled the card out, grabbing Morgan's hand and shoving it into his palm. "There. Have a blast."
"What?! She doesn't give a rat's ass about me! She barely even spared me a glance. You dazzled her, dude. YOU. She doesn't want me to call. She wants you to call. She wants to date you hard, you stu—you lanky so-and-so." Morgan corrected himself when Chuck sent a warning glare.
"Listen, Morgs. I live on Planet Earth. I'm not even in the top fifty percent on Planet Earth. I barely remembered to tie my shoes before I left this morning…"
"You also saved a man from divorce, most likely, and changed a little girl's perspective on herself in the best way." He shrugged. "That puts you in the top ten percent in my book. Take her number back."
"Nnno!"
"Take it back!" The shorter man shoved the number back into Chuck's jacket pocket. "No give-backs!" he yelled then, leaping away and nearly falling into the fountain. He saved himself by hopping up onto the edge of it. Would've served him right if he'd fallen in, though, Chuck thought to himself.
"Morgan, why'd you follow me home?"
"Uh. Did I—Did I follow you home? Nah. You're just...you know, you're goin' through somethin', buddy. I love ya. Wanted to help ya—You said about six and a half hours ago that Ellie asked you if leftover pot roast was okay for dinner and I love Ellie's pot roast," he said, finally coming clean.
"Oh, God…"
As Chuck unlocked the apartment door and pushed inside, he was still making fun of his best friend. He flicked on the lights and Morgan's response died.
There, standing in the middle of his living room, was very definitely a burglar, dressed head to toe in black, the mask pulled down over their head and everything. They held his computer in both hands as they froze and glanced over at him and Morgan.
He thought maybe he might die for a second, seeing his beloved computer in the burglar's hands. "Please...not the computer."
And when they set the computer back down, he felt relief. But then they went into fighting stance and he realized this was maybe worse. He glanced over at Morgan who glanced back at him.
And then he watched as the bearded man grabbed one of Ellie's fancy plates and threw it like a frisbee. The intruder hit that away easily, sending it shattering against the floor. Morgan threw another of Ellie's glass decorations and the same thing happened.
"What the hell?" he heard his friend breathe. "Chuck, dude! I'm outta ideas! Do something! Protect your realm!"
"My re—What?" He turned to give him a look, in spite of the harrowing situation.
"Fine. If you aren't gonna protect us, it's up to me." He grabbed a glass vase from the entry table and ran at the intruder who was already picking up the computer and trying to escape in the other direction.
"Morgan, don't!"
The masked figure spun and put the computer on the shelf behind them, then reached out and caught Morgan by his hair, yanking him in against them and rounding his throat with their arm. "Hhggghhhkkkkk!" Morgan gasped.
"Hey! Pick on someone your own size!" Chuck yelled, watching as Morgan went limp. The intruder seemed almost confused by it but let him slump to the ground. "Did you kill him? Is he dead?"
He grit his teeth and ran at the burglar, but they side-stepped him easily and caught him by the back of his jacket before he could crash into the lamp, tossing him to the side so that he landed safely on the floor.
Before he could get up again, there was a loud cracking sound, and they both turned to watch as the shelf broke right off the wall under the weight of the computer and hit the floor with a sickening smash, breaking into pieces.
"No!" he yelled, reaching out for it. "God, no!"
The intruder left it and ran.
"Hey!" But he couldn't get to his feet fast enough, and anyway, he valued his own life more than anything he might get from chasing them. Morgan was stirring and he needed to make sure his friend, who he now realized had fainted in fear, was okay.
This was a really great birthday week, he decided. The best birthday week. And maybe next year he'd spend it hiding away inside a cave somewhere.
}o{
She'd seen him head into the Large Mart from her car, sunk low in her seat so that he didn't spot her. And now she was just waiting. So it was perfect that her phone buzzed in her purse right then.
She would have to tell Director Graham about last night at some point, right?
Sighing heavily, she went into her purse and grabbed her phone. "Walker. Secure."
"You didn't get the computer."
Of course he'd known before he even called. Because if she had gotten it, she would've told him immediately. And he knew that. "I didn't get it, no. Bartowski came home as I was getting away. It's a long story and it doesn't matter. Unfortunately, the computer ended up smashed, most likely the information on it irretrievable, but I kept him alive, so at least there is that."
Graham was silent for a moment. She continued, feeling like somehow she needed to.
"If the computer is destroyed, at least we know he won't have access to that program, or the sensitive intel that was on it. Our secrets are safe…"
He took a long time to respond, and it made her feel uneasy. About something but she didn't know what. And then she chalked it up to the fact that he was probably frustrated this part of the assignment hadn't gone to plan. If only she'd broken in a few minutes earlier… She couldn't help but kick herself for her bad timing.
"Just keep your eye on him, Agent Walker. Maybe the computer is destroyed and maybe that information won't ever be able to be accessed again. But this means it's more important than ever that we know who this...Bartowski guy is. What he's capable of. It's time to really make contact with him."
She shut her eyes for a moment, silently cursing. This was exactly what she didn't want to have happen. Even if a small part of her liked the idea of talking to him again—or perhaps, more than that, she liked the idea of watching him when he talked to her.
When she opened her eyes again, the steely mask was back, the focus was there, and Agent Walker was prepared to do her damn job. What else was there but that? At least for now, this was it. And she needed to focus.
Because there he was, walking out of the Large Mart, looking over his shoulder...almost looking frazzled. Though she wondered if that was just how he always was.
"I have eyes on him right now." She paused, watching him still, and then she looked away, in case he happened to glance across the parking lot and see her. "And like I said, the computer was destroyed. Beyond repair."
"And if he has a back-up? Or if he's hiding something else Bryce sent him that we don't know about?" the director asked. "Bryce was CIA. He was our guy. And he burned us." There was a long pause.
But she was stuck on one word. Before he could say anything else, she found her voice and asked, "Was?"
"Agent Larkin is dead, Ag—Sarah. He was killed while sending that program to this guy." She felt something inside of her start to quiver in the worst way, and she swallowed thickly, not trusting her voice. "They found him trying to escape after he sent it, and they shot him. NSA."
"Was—?" She swallowed her question, hearing the potential for her voice to break while she spoke, so she shook her head instead and decided not to ask after all. Was it quick, she wanted to know? And she felt sick inside, torn. He was a rogue agent. He'd betrayed her, their partnership, his country. But it still hurt. It hurt to think of him...dead. Gone. She had to pull herself together. She'd lost fellow agents before. Colleagues. Innocents. But Bryce had been sort of different, hadn't he? "NSA?" she asked.
"Yes. And now that he's finished Larkin off, Casey's on his way out to Burbank as we speak. So you better make quick work of this before NSA makes me recall you."
Anger flared in her—she wasn't sure if it was vengeance or what, but it was an almost murderous anger. "Because of Casey? He's a burn-out."
"He's a killer," Graham came back, his hard tone pounding it home.
She got the message loud and clear. And none of this felt right. None of it. She scrambled for a way to respond that didn't make it sound like she had any intention of doing anything besides her job, even with knowing now that Bryce had been killed in cold blood.
"I want you to listen to me, Agent Walker. Sarah. What happened with Bryce…" Please don't. Not right now… "It couldn't have been helped. None of us could have stopped this."
"But I can fix it," she said, her voice tight, her chest constricted.
Because she didn't know if she believed what happened couldn't have been helped. If she'd paid more attention, if she hadn't been as focused on the job instead of paying attention to her partner and whatever was going on with him. They were sleeping together. She should have known. She should've seen something, picked up on cues.
She could make this right. Or at least, she didn't like the idea of leaving before she tried. "If there's a back-up, I'll find it," she said. "If he knows more about Bryce, about us, I'll figure out what he knows. Tell the NSA to give me twelve hours. They can hold off with their burn-out assassin 'til then."
Agent Walker hung up on the CIA director and tossed her phone back into her purse angrily. They were really sending someone in to take this guy out, not even knowing if he was actually innocent or not. She wasn't letting it happen, not before knowing for sure if he really was the potential accomplice they thought he might be.
And she'd heard stories of John Casey. The man pulled the trigger first and asked questions later. He was verging on renegade status. But when he got an order, he carried it out. She felt like a hypocrite as she finally watched Chuck Bartowski disappear inside of the Buy More, because she had blood on her hands as well. And she'd shot first, asked later at least once, if not a few times in her own career.
She wasn't letting it happen here, though. She was getting to the bottom of this.
And she maybe only had twelve hours to do it in. Checking her watch, she grabbed her purse and got out of her car, quickly crossing the parking lot and fluffing her hair a bit.
This time, she didn't have to look for him. He was right where she'd expected him to be. And she didn't glance anywhere else as she walked down the aisle towards the Nerd Herd desk.
But something was wrong. His head was down, buried in his arms he'd crossed on top of the desk. And as she approached, she heard him repeating, "I'm losing my mind, I'm losing my mind, I'm losing my mind…"
She just watched him for a moment, then gently reached out to delicately ring the bell that was on the desk next to him.
"Morgannnn? Not now—" His tired, annoyed voice was muffled and he surprised her by laying his hand on top of where hers still rested on the bell. But then his fingers curled around hers, tightening almost as though his body spasmed at the realization that this wasn't his bearded friend's hand he was holding.
He moved his fingers and felt her hand gently, squeezing again, and then he lifted his head, eyes wide. "HI!" he burst out, breathless as he straightened to his full height, stunned. "Hiyeeee." She just smiled at him again, waiting for that kind of cute shocked look of his to settle again like it had yesterday. "Uh! Phone trouble? …again?"
Chuck pulled the screwdriver out of his pocket and wiggled it a little, ready to come to her aid again. Almost as if she hadn't left a card with her phone number written on it yesterday. And why was it suddenly endearing that this guy kept a tiny screwdriver in his pocket?
She shook herself mentally with an "Uuuuhhh…" And then she was right back on track again, Agent Walker focusing on her assignment. She had a mess to fix. "Yeah!" she said, unconsciously tucking a bit of hair away from her face. "Um, I'm not sure I'm able to receive calls, 'cause…" She looked down and then oh so slowly lifted her blue eyes to meet his gaze through her eyelashes. "I never got one from you," she finished, her words slow and dripping with honey.
"Oh ho hooooooo!"
And there was Morgan. But before he could say anything else, Chuck turned and looked at him. She couldn't see the taller man's face, but it must've had murder in it because Morgan practically tripped getting away from the situation.
Chuck turned back to her, looking pained. She thought she'd try to put him out of his misery a little bit.
"I'm sorry I left so quickly yesterday. I had an appointment with a realtor. I just moved here," she explained.
"Welcome!" he squeaked, and it was such a sweet response, made all the sweeter by the fact that he lifted the screwdriver up between them for some reason. He glanced at it like he wasn't all too sure why he was even still holding it, and then he shoved it back into his pocket quickly.
"Thanks…" She was admittedly a bit tripped up by his sincere goofball antics—so sincere, in fact, it almost seemed like he wasn't in control of what he was doing yet. She had really thrown him off today, apparently. More so than yesterday. And she was accidentally enjoying his response to seeing her again. She quickly continued before she lost any semblance of focus. She needed to go in for the kill. So to speak. "And, uh, I don't really know anyone here." She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment. "And I was wondering if you would show me around."
He froze, and then she watched as his eyebrows slowly raised, his mouth falling open. She spared a moment to wonder what had happened to this guy that he was so incredibly surprised by the fact that a woman was talking to him like this, with invitation in her tone. As far as she could tell, the situation with Agent Larkin sending him sensitive government secrets aside, he seemed almost like a diamond in the rough. At least here, in this particular store. And perhaps even elsewhere…? Maybe?
Her mark didn't seem capable of saying anything to that. So she had to prompt him a bit.
"That is...if you're free…?" She used that dripping with honey voice again. She even grabbed the end of her hair and played with it flirtatiously. If he didn't latch onto this, she didn't know what else she was going to have to do…
"Oh, he's free! He's so free! He's got nothin' but time on his hands! He's very available! You guys are gonna have a great time!"
She glanced over Chuck's shoulder to see that Morgan had wandered back at some point to watch this unfold. She felt a bit bad for Chuck now. Very available. Ouch... But at least Morgan was somewhat helping her cause with his intrusive nosiness. Was he always like this, she wondered?
Chuck's slow turn with the simpering smile made her think that, yes, this happened often enough, and Chuck was unfortunately used to it. Morgan sprinted off again muttering something about xerox machines, leaving them alone together.
"Apparently, my schedule's wide open," Chuck said then, turning back to her, attempting to make the best of the embarrassing scene his friend had just potentially made. But there was some humor in his face, a tinge of self-deprecation and awareness again. And she found herself liking him.
She nodded with a beaming smile. "Great." Giving off a breathy laugh, feigning relief, even though she'd known she would end up with a date by the time she walked away from this desk, she took her phone out of her purse and looked up at him expectantly.
"Oh! Oh, yeah. You probably want my number."
"Do you...still have mine?" she asked as he wrote it down on a post it and passed it across the desk towards her.
He winced, and she liked that, too. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "I'm—I should apologize for not—you know, things got—"
"No, no." She giggled and brushed a hand through the air. "Don't worry about it. It's okay. Um...but like I said, I don't...know any places around town."
"Oh, of course! Yeah. I'll-I'll take care of that. You free tonight? I ask, 'cause I get off a bit earlier. I can maybe...swing by your place?" A look came over his face then, a little like a deer in headlights, then he walked that back. "If you want me to. I mean, if you're more comfortable meeting up at the place, we can do that, too."
"I'll text you where I'm staying. How's that?" She gave him an out again.
"Great. Perfect. Yeah. Of course. That's…" A dreamy look came over his face then. "Stellar." He furrowed his brow and shook his head, laughing at himself. "Stellar? Really? I don't know where that...came from."
She giggled again and texted him the address for Maison23. She heard his phone beep in his pocket and he took it out, wiggling it in his hand.
"There it is. I got it."
"Perfect. What, um...what time should I expect you?"
He looked so overwhelmed but there was something else there now, maybe a bit of confidence. A sense of resolve, as though he was deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth… and wasn't it sweet but sad at the same time?
"Seven? That work? And, hmmm, you like Mexican?"
"Love it."
"Great!"
She put her phone away and grinned again, making sure her eyes sparkled a bit, and then she pushed her hair back behind her shoulder. "See you tonight, Chuck."
"Yes. Definitely."
She smirked, gave him one last look over his shoulder to make sure he got the message, and then she turned back to the door, making a beeline for her car again, dropping the act and frowning.
Twelve hours to save this guy's life, most likely. Twelve hours to find out whether he deserved to be saved. And she had this horribly sick feeling in her gut that told her he was entirely innocent in all of this, and that things were potentially going to get worse for him if she didn't fix this mess quick.
}o{
"Morgan, just...let me do the talking, okay?"
"But I need to see her face when you say it."
"Let me do it!"
"Okay okay…."
Chuck burst into the living room, spotting his sister and her boyfriend sitting on the couch watching TV.
"Hey, Chuck," Ellie murmured, keeping her eyes on the screen, that sleepy post-twelve hour shift look on her face.
"Ellie...Captain...Don't freak out. Remain calm." That probably wasn't the best way to start things because Ellie looked away from the TV at him in genuine concern. So he finished it quick. "I have some news…" The couple looked at each other.
Out of nowhere, Morgan's excited voice filled the room. "CHUCK'S GOT A DATE!" He felt the entirety of the other man's weight slam into his side, his limbs wrapping around him like a koala.
"What?!" Ellie asked, suddenly very alert, excitement on her face as she sat up and faced him. "WHO?"
"Way to go, Chuck. That's awesome," Devon said very diplomatically, pointing at him.
This was exactly the response he was expecting. And then he saw a look of almost terror come over his sister's face, which was less expected. "Oh, GOD! What are you gonna wear?!"
He just shrugged. He was too excited, too nervous, too a lot of things, to think that far ahead. He had a date.
But then Ellie bounded up from the couch, and hurried to his side. "Morgan, off. Get off. I have work to do." She smacked at Morgan's shoulder until he untangled himself and hopped back down to his own feet, holding his hands up.
"C'mon, Chuck."
Chuck let Ellie drag him down the hall to his bedroom, going straight for his closet. He leaned against his desk and watched as she stepped inside, combing through his clothes. "What's her name?" she asked.
"Is that...some kind of epic girl telepathy thing? Where you can tell by her name what colors she likes a guy to wear or something? Plaid or stripes?" Morgan asked, having followed them into the room.
"I just want to know her name, Morgan. Why are you here?" Ellie asked from inside the closet.
Chuck just shrugged at his best friend. "Sarah," he answered then. "Her name is Sarah."
"You look good in dark colors, usually. But if you're going to a place that has dark lighting, I'd go for lighter...Where are you taking her?"
"El Torero."
"Oh, that is an excellent choice, brother. Mexican food is always a winner. There aren't many people in the world who dislike Mexican food. Also, margaritas are amazing." She poked her head out of the closet and pointed at him as he chuckled, then ducked back into the closet again as he heard her moving shirts around, sliding hangers over.
"So Sarah...She's nice?" she asked then, stepping out and holding what looked like the clothes he'd most likely be wearing for this date. "Pretty?"
His nerves were a little frayed, hands clammy, so he did what he always did when he felt that way—he deflected with a joke. "Yeah! Actually, Morgan met her online. It was kind of a chat room…" He inwardly smirked at the momentarily look of Dear God no on his sister's face. "I'm totally kidding," he said quickly when she looked like she might kill him.
"Chuck."
"She came into the store and I fixed her cell phone. She's new here, I guess, and she needs someone to show her around." He laughed nervously. "I mean, honestly, I'm bein' honest, she probably doesn't even consider this a date, ya know? She probably just needs someone to—"
"Chuck!"
"Hm?"
"Stop doing that," Ellie said, pointing at him. He shrugged, a bit of a pout on his face. "It's a date. How did it happen?"
"Oh. I can answer that!" Morgan said. "She said she's new here and doesn't really know anybody, and she was wondering if he would show her around...and then she looked up through her eyelashes all coy-like and flirty and said…" He made his voice deep and husky. "If you're free…"
"That is not what she sounds like!" Chuck groused, reaching out to smack the side of his friend's head.
"Yeah, it is! I mean, I have guy voice, obviously! But I'm tellin' ya, she was asking you out on a date. Ellie, she left her phone number for him yesterday and he didn't even call her."
"Someone broke into the apartment last night! I was maybe a little preoccupied, for God's sake!"
Ellie whistled. "Boys! Hey! First of all, Morgan, you aren't needed anymore. You weren't needed in the first place if I'm being honest. Secondly, Chuck, stop tearing yourself down. It's frustrating and hard to watch."
"I'm here for support," Morgan tried.
"Buddy…" Chuck winced.
"Fiiiiiine. But I need text updates while you're on your date, huh?" He reached over and grabbed the candy bar that was most definitely Chuck's candy bar from the desk next to Chuck's hip, and unwrapped it. "See ya, Bartowskis. Beard out!"
"Thank God," Ellie called after him loud enough for him to hear. Then she turned back to Chuck. "Between us, you seriously drive me crazy with your reluctance to accept that you're a good catch. My brother is not only handsome, he is also kind and smart."
Chuck groaned. "I knooow, I know. You say it enough. And I get it. But, like, she saw me in the Buy More, ya know? Compared to the other men in that store, I'm basically George Clooney."
"Anybody would be," she said distractedly, holding the shirts she'd picked out up against his body and squinting thoughtfully. "But I highly doubt it's that. Didn't Morgan say she came back for you?"
"That's...incredibly dramatic," he chuckled. "She didn't come back for me."
"She walked into the store and specifically asked you out on a date, Charles Irving. Which means she saw something in you that she liked. I highly doubt you're the first guy she came across in this town. But you are the guy she asked out on a date, aren't you?" She winked.
He sniffed and nodded, looking off to the side and thinking.
"Try these on," she said then, interrupting his thoughts before he could get much farther than thinking about how stunning Sarah's smile was today.
"Honestly, the—"
"I know. I'm a girl. I know what girls like."
"I'll go change."
As he left to head for the shower, he finally had a moment to think about what had happened. Everything felt like such a whirlwind. She'd shown up yesterday, all warm and a bit flirty, though he'd thought at the time that he was just imagining it. And then she'd left him her number. And when he hadn't called her, she'd shown up the very next day to see him again. It was downright crazy.
He didn't even know how to deal with it. It would've been staggering enough if she wasn't so incredibly gorgeous, but she was so incredibly gorgeous and he felt like he was way out of his depth with her. Gorgeous, a little flirty, bold...deliciously bold. As much as it had made him act like an idiot, he'd found it insanely attractive. She did not beat around the bush a bit.
But that meant he had to somehow shirk his insecurities, leave them here at home, and show up at her door as though he deserved to be there. As though he wasn't stupidly confused. He was stupidly confused, though. So stupidly confused.
How did guys without giant gaping holes in their chests handle dates with pretty women, he wondered? Was that something he could Google?
Or maybe she was exactly as nice as she seemed, unassuming and just as into him as Morgan kept insisting. He was probably doing her a huge disservice by putting her up on this goddess pedestal, like he made one misstep and she'd immediately hate him and end the date. Normal people weren't like that, and she was probably perfectly normal. Emphasis on the perfectly part, because God, wasn't she perfect?
And this was so insane. So crazy.
He got out of the shower and got dressed, looking at his reflection and staring at his wild, not-to-be-tamed curls. Should he go with natural? Slicked back? He smoothed his hands tightly over his hair and pulled the curls down. "Ew," he muttered, letting them bounce back again. Not slicked back.
This was the first date he'd been on in a long time, and he was losing his mind, maybe. Did he even really know how to do it anymore? He needed to just take a deep breath and be himself. That was the secret to success. Wasn't that what everyone always said about first dates? "Just be yourself!" he chirped at his reflection. And then he rolled his eyes at himself and left the bathroom.
Ellie met him halfway down the hallway, a wince on her face.
"Whaaaat is it?" he asked dubiously.
"Remember how I told you it was totally okay for you to use the car tonight?" He shut his eyes tiredly, knowing what was coming. "Devon was called in. He needs to take it. It's just a short procedure but the timing is not good."
"What about his car?" he asked, wondering if he could get even a single break.
"It's in the shop, remember?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Chuck, I'm sorry. Maybe he can give you a ride?" That got her a flat look. "Well, I thought I'd at least offer."
He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Don't worry about it. The Herder it is. I'm glad I drove it home today."
"Hey, listen. If she's bothered by the car, she's silly, okay?"
"If you saw what she looked like when she smiles, you wouldn't say that."
"Hm?" she asked, already halfway down the hallway towards her own bedroom she shared with Captain Awesome.
"Nothing! Tell Devon the car's all his. And not to worry about it. I'll make a joke about the Herder or somethin' and it'll break the ice."
"That's my guy," she said.
He smiled at her retreating figure and went into his room, sitting down on his bed to put his socks and shoes on. There was a light rapping on his window as he frowned and looked up from his shoes. Of course Morgan was there, pointing down at the lock that was meant to keep him in particular out when Chuck wasn't home.
The one time he'd snuck in when it was just Ellie at home, Morgan had nearly been murdered by a rolling pin.
Rolling his eyes, he finished tying his last Converse sneaker, and he went over to open the window and let Morgan crawl in before going back to finish his shoes. "Hey. So I forgot to give you some advice."
"No, thank you. Appreciate the thought, though." He climbed to his feet and grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys to the Herder. Snagging his jacket last minute, just in case.
"Hear me out, dude! I printed this out for you and biked back as fast as I could. Take it with you. Ten Do's and Don'ts of dating. And it's from Cosmopolitan which is, like, a really top level advice-giving women's magazine. So you know they know women." He thrust the sheet with the faded printer ink on it into Chuck's chest.
"Morgan. No."
"Why? It might help!"
"I'm not reading a dumb magazine thingy for dating. Leave me alone!"
He left his room, Morgan arguing the whole way after him, and when he finally got out into the courtyard he heard Ellie's voice behind him.
"Chuck! Hey...Hey," she said nearing him, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "These are leftover from the party."
"You put this together, sis?"
"Yep." She gave him her best closed-mouth smile as he took the bouquet, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Listen to me, Chuck. You deserve this night. You deserve to go out and have a good time, okay? Don't let your head ruin it, huh? Just enjoy yourself. And be yourself."
There it was.
He chuckled quietly and nodded. "Gotcha. Thanks, sis."
"And, uh, don't forget...about the old girlfriend rule."
"Right," he said in a flat voice. "Got it. No mention of...her."
She beamed. He'd said the right thing. But then there was pride in her face, and happiness. He was making her happy and that, in turn, made him suddenly feel a lot better about tonight. "Aces, Charles." She met his eyes and her smile warmed. "You're aces."
"A dad quote," he said, grinning back. "I'm impressed. Love you, sis."
"I love you. Have fun."
"I will, I'll try." And he left just early enough to beat the traffic, knowingly leaving his sister with Morgan Grimes, alone in the courtyard. He was almost sorry for the little guy.
}o{
She came out of the bathroom, double checked the outfit she had picked out, and gently placed it on the bed. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she didn't like. It was worry for a civilian. That's what she was telling herself. He wasn't a child like her last mission. He was a capable adult, but one that seemed just as naive about life as the baby she rescued. They both had no idea of the games being played with their lives over their heads. They both seemed to be pawns in a much larger game that she had now been brought into. And just like the last mission, she was determined to protect him if he was innocent. She snorted. If. She would admit, part of her had underestimated him, in a way that made her uncomfortable with something that was bubbling up inside of her that she was just going to push back down, but Chuck Bartowski being part of a secret plot to infiltrate the government...not likely.
She strapped her knives to her ankle, feeling more covered, more protected, until she thought about him again. She tried to get him out of her mind. He was a mark, a civilian. She didn't even know if she believed the things she was telling herself, but this was what she did know: Chuck Bartowski deserved to have a life if he was innocent, and Sarah's gut told her he was innocent.
She pulled the hairpins out of their bag, opened a container that had poison and oh so carefully, dipped them in the liquid. She expertly placed them in her hair. They were stylish, and she hoped he liked them. She paused. She hoped he liked them…What was she doing? When was the last time she had been on a date? She and Bryce...well, they never "dated". They went out for the missions, to tail someone, to overhear someone, but a date? Anytime someone asked "what do you do?" the response had been, "an accountant." Her and Bryce, the accounting Andersons. She sighed. She wondered if she would she go out with Chuck Bartowski if this were real life.
She shook her head. No, none of that. This was about a mission...her last mission. Because when she got back it was time for her and Graham to have a long talk. This easy mission had been anything but. Actually it was time for him to listen, and for her to talk.
She crossed the room and picked up her kevlar vest. She slipped it over her shoulders, and pulled it tight, fastening the velcro fasteners around her waist. She finished getting dressed when she decided she needed to have words with Graham. He had to stop that burn-out from getting to Chuck. She was also getting a funny feeling from him...again. Maybe she could figure out what was going on. What intel did Bryce steal that was having him act this way? She picked up her phone, and grabbed her gun to calm her nerves as she began to pace. Why was she pacing?
"Graham," the voice said on the other line.
She took a deep breath to keep calm. She couldn't let him pick up on her nerves. "It's Walker, Director." Direct and to the point, that's what Graham appreciated. "You need to call off Casey, you need to let me vet this guy before we ruin an innocent life."
Graham was silent for a second. "Have you made contact with Bartowski?"
She began to pace again, and she held the gun to comfort herself. She was right giving up the baby to Emma. A gun shouldn't comfort someone. She had missed her chance for a normal life, for that house with the red door and the white picket fence. "He's picking me up for a date. I'll know more in a few hours. Call him off, Director."
Graham hesitated for a second, and then responded. "You're on your own on this one, Sarah. I can't help you if something goes wrong."
Why couldn't he? He was the Director of the CIA. Why couldn't he help her? What was going on that he wasn't telling her about? She knew what she should say, so she said that instead of what she wanted to say. "I don't know about this guy, Graham."
She could feel him through the phone. He "had" her right where he wanted her. She checked herself out in the mirror. Everything was as she wanted it. Even Graham. He had forgotten about his "Ice Queen" that he had created. He had forgotten that you can be cut by your own blade. "Nice guys aren't sent government secrets."
A knock on the door made her turn. She walked toward the door tucking the gun in her pants. If she had more time, there was more she could say, but she didn't. She knew what she should ask, she knew what he was expecting and she knew how to play the role. She had to play it, or Graham would suspect something, and she did, quickly, before she opened the door. "What should I do if he runs?" She opened the door.
There was no hesitation in his voice. "Kill him." She met eyes with Chuck. He smiled at her, and at that moment, she decided Agent Walker had a new mission. Find out everything she could about Chuck Bartowski. Protect him if he was innocent. Agent Walker had never failed a mission, and she wasn't about to now.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!
-SC and DC