A/N: We'll be brief. Thanks for the kind words and we hope you continue to enjoy this story as we work our way through the pilot still.
Disclaimer: We don't own CHUCK and we aren't making money off of this story.
They rushed out of the night club with Sarah tugging on his arm. The date was definitely over now….if she could call it that...she could. Chuck looked quite confused. "Where's the fire?"
She never turned toward him, just heading toward his car. "Chuck, give me your keys."
Chuck was a bit taken aback. "I don't mean to be old-fashioned, but the company only wants employees... nerds, driving the Nerd Herd mobile. I mean, it's kinda, you know…" He dangled the keys in the air.
She didn't have time. HE didn't have time. While he was talking she quickly picked the lock on the door and got in. "Get in the car," she ordered.
Chuck had a perplexed look on his face. "How did you get in to my car?"
What had been a funny situation suddenly got a whole lot more serious when a black SUV headed in their direction. She yelled this time. "Get in the car right now!"
Chuck was beginning to freak out. "Sarah…" he nearly whimpered.
She had no time for this. She still didn't know if he was innocent...Yes she did, she just didn't have proof, and time was running out to get that proof. In fact, if they didn't get away, time was up...for him...and God help her, that wasn't an option.
"Just get in!"
Chuck jumped in and Sarah slammed the car in reverse. He yelled the entire time she drove the car backwards. He muttered under his breath she drove better backwards than he did forwards. She caught him looking back once. He paled, like he was about to throw up, and then didn't look backwards anymore. He muttered things the whole way, and Sarah had to ignore him and drove on.
"Sarah, you're not even looking! Wait, wait, wait. Who are these guys? What do they want?" The SUV rammed into the front fender of the Nerd Herder. Chuck was beside himself. He just kept muttering "Oh, My God!" over and over. He mumbled something about wetting himself, but she decided for both their sakes to ignore it.
As she drove backwards, Sarah came up with a plan. It wasn't the best plan, it required Chuck but it was all they had. "Tell me when to turn."
Her request made him look at her. He looked confused, and to be fair it was more of an order and she could tell he was trying to process what she was asking. It did snap him out of his worry and he turned to look behind them. "Uh, uh, left in five seconds!"
The SUV hit them again, and Sarah knew it was time. "Your left or my left?"
Chucks eyes widened. "What?"
Uh, oh, Sarah thought. This could be bad… "Too late!"
She whipped the wheel, running the car backwards through a narrow opening, forcing the SUV to stop. The went backwards down a flight of stairs, Chuck screaming the entire way. The car was in shambles.
Sarah knew she had very little time, she had to get the proof she needed. HE couldn't go out like this. She wouldn't let it happen, she couldn't. "Listen to me, Chuck. Those men will hurt you. They're from the NSA and they're after you."
Chuck turned to her. They had the wrong person, that had to be it. "Me? Why, why? Why me? I'm nobody. I'm the supervisor of a Nerd Herd at a Buy More. Maybe one day I'll be assistant store manager and I don't even know if I want that job. You know, that's not your problem... but that is." She turned to see what Chuck was pointing at. It was the SUV. It crashed into them, T-boning the Nerd Herder.
Sarah got out of the car, pulling Chuck with her. "Get out of the car." They began to run, but he tripped. "Let's go, Chuck." He fell, and Sarah spun around to check on him.
The driver of the SUV pointed the vehicle at Sarah and hit the gas. Chuck screamed, "Sarah, look out!" She looked down, saw the plates in the street for the emergency blockade, looked over at the guard booth and turned back to the SUV. Casey seemed to grin as the vehicle hurtled toward her. She dropped, reached down with her right hand, came up, pivoted to her left, and her throw was true. It hit the emergency button, and the emergency blockade sprung up. She continued to turn to the left, like a very tall ballerina and dropped down, her fingertips, touching the ground, and she squatted on the balls of her feet, ready to dive away if necessary. The SUV hit the blockage and sparks flew everywhere.
Chuck came up, shock covering his face. "Sarah!"
Sarah stood immediately while calling for back-up. "Request emergency air evac. Track location, we're on foot." She grabbed Chuck's hand and they ran. "Let's go!"
They went up the side of the building to the roof, and Sarah knew she had just minutes to figure this thing out…just minutes to save him. "How well do you know Bryce Larkin?"
Chuck was gasping for air. "What? How do you... how do you know Bryce?"
"We worked together at the CIA," she replied, scoping out their current situation.
Chuck's eyes went wide. Shock covered his face again. "The what?! The CIA? Bryce is a spy?! Bryce Larkin from Connecticut is a spy?"
Either he was innocent or he was playing dumb. She hated this but she had to pressure him, she had to know. "A rogue spy. Did he try to contact you?"
Chuck looked around like he was trying to gather his thoughts. "I haven't heard from Bryce in... wait. No, he... he-he sent, he sent me an e-mail."
Sarah spun having heard that. "Did you open it?" Her heart sank.
"Yeah, It was, it was a line from Zork."
Sarah had no idea what the hell that was, but it sounded so Chuck Bartowski. She didn't even have time to think about what that meant. Was this some code? "What?"
"Zork, it's a video game that we used to play. It was like a riddle, and I solved it and then there was, uh, pictures. Lots and lots of pictures."
Damn it, he saw the sensitive intel. She had no idea what kind of intel, what was on it, what Bryce had stolen. But it was important enough for her to be here, important enough for the NSA to be gunning for them.
"You saw them?" He never answered, he swallowed, and his face was answer enough. She had seconds to figure this out. "Uh, your computer, did you back it up? Is there an external drive?"
"It crashed a week ago." So far there was no copy of the intel. This guy was no spy. He wasn't with Bryce. He was an innocent who got an email from Bryce Larkin, rogue spy, who knew him a long time ago. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Was I not supposed to look at those pictures?"
She caught movement on the other side of the roof out of the corner of her eye. Damn it, time had run out. Please let her save this innocent man. She could do this. She saved a baby. She could do this. "Okay, I may have to aim my gun at you, so just don't freak out."
Chuck's eyes widened. "Why?"
Casey appeared behind him, rubbing his eye. "It's late. I'm tired. Let's cut the crap and give him to me now. He belongs to the NSA."
Sarah pulled her gun on Chuck making him gasp. "The CIA gets him first."
Casey pulled his gun on Sarah and advanced. "You come any closer and I shoot." Sarah knew she had to come up with something to save them….and it had to be now.
}o{
Chuck was freaking out. "Sarah... I'm freaking out." He realized by the look on his face that he didn't need to tell her that for her to know it.
The NSA guy spoke, the weariness obvious in his voice. "You shoot him, I shoot you. I leave both your bodies here, go out for a late snack. I'm thinking maybe pancakes."
Chuck had heard about all he could take. He turned and ran even as Sarah yelled at him not to.
He knew he had no chance of getting away but he had to try and then he saw the building in front of him. This time the feeling in his head came on quickly, but he was ready. The ridiculous pictures flew through his head but they made all the sense in the world. For once in his life, Chuck Bartowski KNEW what had to be done. He KNEW it was up to him.
He spun toward Sarah and pointed in the direction of the building. "They're gonna kill him." Sarah glanced at the NSA guy and he glanced back.
NSA guy then glanced at Chuck, his gun still trained at Sarah. He snarled at Chuck, "Kill who?"
Chuck had to explain this quickly before he ended up shot...or worse. "Stanfield, the general. The General Stanfield, the NATO guy." The NSA guy looked at Sarah. Chuck could tell he thought it was a ploy. Sarah had a speculative look on her face as she glanced at Chuck. Chuck had had it. It had been a long evening. He had gone out to dinner with what he thought was the most wonderful woman in the world. Instead, he found out that she had only asked him out because she was a spy assigned to him. He could take a lot, but today...today he reached his limit. He rolled his eyes, exasperated and began to explain. "Look, something is wrong with me, okay? I don't know what it is, but something is very, very wrong with me, and I'm remembering things that I shouldn't know."
Sarah looked confused, but she kept the gun pointed at him. "Okay, Chuck, talk to me. Like what?"
Really, Sarah? "I don't know. I don't know. For example, uh... there was, there was a Serbian demolitions expert at the Large Mart today. That's kind of odd, wouldn't you say? Look, last week the NSA, you guys intercepted some blue prints, blue prints of a hotel, that hotel. And then the CIA, you guys found a file of schematics of a bomb in Prague. The bomb is in that hotel!" The NSA guy swung his gun toward Chuck as he said that. Chuck noticed Sarah took her gun off of him and pointed it toward the NSA guy.
There was a sneer on the guy's face as the red laser dot danced on Chuck's chest. "He was working with Bryce."
Sarah surprisingly came to Chuck's defense before he could say anything. "No, he opened Bryce's e-mail." The NSA guy slowly turned his head toward Sarah as she looked to Chuck again. "Chuck, those pictures that you saw...Could they have told you this?"
The NSA guy glanced at Sarah, like he was trying to figure out what to say. "Those pictures were encoded with secrets, government secrets. If he saw them, then he knows them."
Chuck tried to process what he said. "There were thousands of 'em."
Sarah blinked. For the first time tonight she looked like how Chuck had felt: confused, shocked, and just all around dismayed. She looked at the other agent. "Wait a minute. You're telling me government secrets are in his head?"
He shrugged and moved the laser sight to Chuck's forehead, Chuck watching it the entire time. Like he was a damn professor pointing something out on a PowerPoint for the class instead of pointing a live weapon at a human being. "Chuck is the computer."
He had a laser sight pointed toward his head, he had the woman he thought he'd been crazy about arguing with a crazy grumpy NSA agent. And...wait...what? He was the what now? "What did you, what did you say? What does that mean?"
Chuck saw something on Sarah's face. Was it desperation? Why? She was a CIA agent, apparently. Wasn't she supposed to have this under control? Wasn't that her job? Or was it about him? Why should she care about him? Why was he thinking about that right now when the rest of this was going on…?
"Chuck, you have to listen to me. You have to tell us where…"
He SNAPPED, interrupting her. "What's happening to me?"
Sarah stared at him, intensely. An hour ago, he wouldn't felt some nice fluttery feelings at that look, but right now he had a gun pointed at his forehead. And some important guy, and some innocent other people, were about to be blown up by a bomb.
"You said there was a bomb. Is there time to stop it?" she asked, ignoring his question.
"What? What? Are you crazy?"
The NSA guy looked at him like he was a child, lowered the laser sight to his chest, and began to explain to him in a patronizing voice which was its own level of crazy, because...well...he still had a GUN pointed at him. "No, we're the good guys. We get paid to keep bombs from exploding."
He had to get out of this. Right now! "Look, I can't, I can't help you, okay? I really wish that I could, but I can't. Call Bryce. He's the guy that can save the day."
Sarah snapped off her words. "Bryce is dead!" Bryce...dead….Bryce was dead. He was dead? Something nasty creeped up his spine as he realized all the bad things he'd thought about the guy...Chuck couldn't think ill of the dead. For all they had been through, Chuck still thought of him as a friend… Chuck tried to process it, and he saw her face soften. Here they were in the middle of a Wild West standoff and she was trying to soften the blow. Bryce was dead. He was dead. "He died sending those secrets to you."
He just couldn't wrap his head around it. Dead...because of the email he sent. How'd he die? He was dead. Oh God. Someone had died because of all of this. A human being... "Bryce is dead…?"
Sarah gave him the slightest of nods, and then he saw it, in her eyes...something...a lot of somethings...regret, pain, but the one that confused him the most was the look that she wanted to comfort him. That was crazy. It was official, his mind had snapped. He couldn't be processing that right. That's what it was...Now that he could see and understand weird pictures he couldn't understand normal emotions on people's faces, anymore.
Chuck met Sarah's blue eyes, stricken...Until there was a loud bang, the NSA guy shooting his gun into the air. They both jumped and spun to look at him. Chuck wondered if this guy had been hugged enough as a child. "Yeah, and he's gonna have a lot of company unless you start talking. So, pretty please... Can we defuse the bomb now?"
Chuck glanced at Sarah. She didn't say a word, she didn't move a muscle, but something in her eyes told him what to do. He took a deep breath and felt ridiculous calm given the situation. "According to the schedule, the general's already on the stage." Casey shrugged and the three took off.
They entered the lobby when Sarah grabbed Chuck and surprised him. He was surprised by the intensity. And...was that a sliver of trust there? Or was this thing screwing up his brain?
Sarah looked at the NSA agent as she grabbed Chuck. "Wait! Casey, wait! We can't take him in. He's too valuable."
Casey...So this guy was named Casey. Casey what? It didn't matter. Casey agreed, unceremoniously shoving Chuck to the floor. "Okay, Johnny Commodore. You stay here, but you tell us where to go."
Chuck looked up from the ground. "Uh, the easiest way?"
"No. Fastest, Chuck," Sarah replied.
Chuck pointed at her, running through the schematics in his head. He could tell them, but Sarah said the fastest… "The fastest. Got it." He got up and scurried toward the bomb, the other two right behind him. He didn't spare a single thought as to the danger of running straight at what he knew was a live bomb. He just went.
He heard her behind him. "Chuck, stop! Chuck, wait!" He led them into the dining room and they realized how big a problem they had with this massive room.
"Chuck, where is it?" Sarah asked.
Chuck looked around. The room was huge. It could be anywhere. He was gonna die because of this bomb, everyone in here was going to die because of this bomb. Including Sarah, and damn him for that thought. "I don't, uh... I don't, uh…That's the guy from the Large Mart!" He saw the guy run away from something. He saw it, and fear ran through him. He gathered all his courage and the words still sounded a bit weak coming out of his mouth. "That's it." Casey grabbed him and pushed him toward the bomb. "Uh, right here."
Chuck looked at Sarah's face. There was fear there for a moment. Chuck didn't want to know what she had seen to make her that look cross her beautiful features. "Oh, god." She'd moved the cover off of the bomb, and it didn't look good.
Casey was no nonsense. "No time to evacuate. Ideas?"
"Disconnect the laptop," Sarah replied. Chuck noticed she looked like him when he was running game scenarios through his head.
Casey took stock of the situation. "There's no trigger. The cables."
Sarah shook her head. "NO! I had thought of that but remembered a bomb in Tanzania." Casey gave her an appreciative look. "Definitely a trap." Casey nodded.
Security ran up on them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Stanfield saw what was going on and took control of the situation. "Uh... ladies and gentlemen, we-we may have a cautionary situation here, so we'll take a short break." The room began to evacuate.
Sarah turned to Chuck. "Chuck, is there anything else you remember about the bomb?"
Chuck had no idea, no clue what to say, and with both Agent Walker and Casey staring at him it was making him very uncomfortable. That, of course, was exactly when Chuck's cellphone went off. He took the call while Sarah and Casey went back to the bomb.
"Hi, Morgan."
"Hey...How's it going?" He could hear the tone in his friend's voice and he wasn't even slightly in the right state of mind for this right now.
"Little busy right now, buddy."
"In a good way? Details."
Seriously? What if he was?
"Why are you calling?"
"I don't know, just... laying on your bed, Ellie's with the captain. I was gonna hang out with Anna but she's working on all the computers that got a case of the Demovas. So, I figured I'd check in. You old…" Chuck hung up the phone, the idea hitting him.
For the first time since Stanford, since his days as Piranha, he felt like himself. He rolled up his sleeves and pushed his way in. Sarah stepped back, shocked. "Okay, okay, I have an idea."
Casey grabbed him. "That's not an Xbox. And you're not a X-Man."
Chuck really wanted to explain to him what the X-Men were, and why he was obviously not one... but this wasn't the best time. "I understand that. This is a prism express laptop, okay? We sell this at our store. It has a DOS override." Sarah stared at him and their eyes met. I can do this, he said with his eyes. Are you sure? she seemed to reply. "I think I can do this. I can do this, please."
Sarah took a deep breath. She looked Casey in the eye. "He's our best shot."
Casey seemed to think about it, and he must have realized they had little time and no other viable choice, and he took his hand off of him. "Go."
Chuck wiggled his fingers, and cracked them, making Casey more exasperated. Sarah leaned in close over his shoulder as he began to type. "Mr. Bomb, meet Mr. Internet."
Casey looked at Sarah, irritated. "He's searching for porn." Chuck threw a finger up and made an 'eh' sound, while he saw Sarah take the wrath of Casey's glare in his peripheral. Chuck hit the button and closed his eyes. Sarah and Casey had no warning and got the pleasure of watching the virus do its work. As the timer counted down to one, it short-circuited and died.
Sarah turned to him, shock on her face. "You did it," she gasped, relief in her voice.
"I did it. I did it. I... I defused a real bomb. This was a real... What if I was wrong?" The weight of what he had done came crashing down around him. And what would have happened if he hadn't done it… He pulled away from the computer.
"Don't puke on the c-4, huh?" Casey walked away with that while Sarah laid her hand encouragingly on his shoulder.
Her hand finally left his shoulder and he could feel her reassuring presence drift away from him. Somebody grabbed him then, hoisted him back to his feet, moved him out of their way, and people he didn't know surrounded the bomb and laptop. Police? Agents? He didn't know. He needed to just go, get out of here.
His feet moved him out of the room altogether, as if he was in a trance or something, as everything flooded through him. He felt numb. Confused. His date was a CIA agent, his old classmate at Stanford who'd wrecked his life had been a CIA agent before he emailed him an important thing that had then gotten the guy killed apparently, NSA agents then tried to kill Chuck, and he'd just used a porn virus to stop a bomb from going off.
Mere hours ago, he'd been nervous about a date. Picking out clothes for a freaking date was the biggest worry of his existence.
And now there was this...this whole thing with the weird pictures and how the hell did he know this stuff? Why was his head hurting? It was hurting pretty bad, actually. But it was starting to dull. Maybe. He didn't know. Chuck is the computer. What the hell did that even mean?
He wandered out into the cool night air, too numb and confused still to even feel how much nicer the air out here was as opposed to the air in the stuffy, warm ballroom in the hotel. And that was when he stumbled across his very own agents...
And of course they were arguing over him like he was a piece of property. Who gets to keep the dog after the divorce, the CIA or the NSA? he thought nastily. Well, in Casey's eyes he probably was not much more than that, and in Sarah's….he wasn't sure. It was complicated enough with her before he knew she was a spy.
The argument continued, and he just let it until he heard them mention his family. That snapped him out of his numbness and he felt fury flood him, and make his chest ache, even.
He walked up to them boldly. "What about my sister?"
Sarah shot Casey a warning look. "Nothing. We were just discussing—"
Chuck cut in. He was laying his cards on the table right now. Consequences be damned. "No, no, no, hold on a second. You have to leave my family and my friends out of this."
"We'll see," Casey popped back. Sarah glared at Casey. If it hadn't been the seriousness of the situation, Chuck would have taken more time to think about that.
Chuck. Was. Done.
"Look, Bryce sent that e-mail to me. I'm the one remembering your secrets. Which means you have to listen to me, both of you. And right now…?" He paused. And then he realized how tired he was. "I'm going to go home."
Casey grabbed him. "No, you're not. Uh-uh." Chuck pulled away and swore for the briefest second he saw respect in Casey's eyes. The look on Sarah's face was more of someone who was torn.
Chuck looked at both of them and pointed toward them as he talked. "You... you need me."
And he walked away. He didn't care what they did...but he was pretty sure they would find him sooner rather than later. Right then, he needed to think.
"That's correct, Director." Sarah was on the phone with Graham. He was beyond unhappy. "I can work with him." She chose her next words very carefully. "I have established something of a relationship with him."
"So you have the Intersect under control?"
The way he said that, like Chuck was some volatile piece of machinery and nothing more… "Director, he is a civilian that has been thrust into this. He is scared at the moment, he has friends and family, and to remove him...I believe it will cause him not to function. He can be an asset to us. He can help us."
"Then that is exactly what he has just become….your asset."
"Director—"
"It's that or a bunker, Agent Walker." He paused. She could tell it was coming. The dressing down she was about to get, she prepared herself. Easy mission, in and out her ass. Graham had underestimated Chuck, and he hadn't properly prepared her for this. He wanted this cleaned up right now and she still wasn't sure why. Could Chuck access something, could he access her file, could he access Graham's even? How much did this guy know now? "Agent Walker….Sarah." Shit. He went the Sarah route. She let her eyes gaze back out at Chuck as he sat there watching the ocean. "Don't waste my best agent on this. Bring him in."
She ignored the shallow compliment.
"How important is this information he's seen?" That stopped him cold in his tracks. She could hear it in the pause.
"It is the most sensitive information in all of the intelligence communities."
Hook. Line. Sinker. "Then, Director, it is probably for the best that your best agent is protecting Chuck."
"The Intersect will be more secure here, with us."
Careful, Sarah, careful... "Director, again, if we put him in a bunker he may not be able to recall the information. It may be useless if he's out of his element, away from his people. Think of all we can do if he's operating at his fullest potential." Had she gone too far? Had she gone far enough? "Think of the greater good." She heard a hitch in his breath and she smiled. She had him.
"Fine. You will guard the asset."
"Director, assets are—"
"AGENT. He is an asset."
No use fighting that battle right now. She had kept him out of a hole. His life wasn't going to be destroyed, but it wasn't going to be perfect...and she would keep him safe. She had to. "I understand."
The phone disconnected and she put it on the table. She was sitting on a picnic table, watching Chuck Bartowski and the moonlight that bounced off of the waves framing him on the beach. She stretched her bootless legs. She had pulled those off an hour ago. They did look good, but they were hell on her feet.
In the past week, she'd had to save an innocent child, and now an innocent man had US Intelligence secrets in his head. She was so done with it all. The lying, the backstabbing, the cold blooded murders. She had done so much, and for what? She looked at him, sitting there, slouched. God, he was such a good guy. She ran her hand through her hair, and wondered how this was going to work. She was sure Casey wasn't going anywhere. She was sure Graham was either lying to her or leaving out all sorts of important information, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Bryce would involve an innocent civilian in this. She saw Chuck's shoulders slump again and she wanted to go to him, reassure him, but she couldn't. She needed to be careful here. She would protect him, just like she did Molly, except this time she'd be there with him every step of the way.
She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind as he sat out there by himself, staring out at the dark water. How inviting was that darkness for him right now, she wondered? After tonight, especially. Just how deep in the shit was he? Very. And she was similarly deep now, wasn't she? The darkness looked good to her, too, as she sat here watching him.
Going on hour...she glanced at her watch...two...she looked again after awhile...three hours. And he hadn't budged yet. She'd thought about going down and just sitting quietly beside him. But he deserved time on his own, time to digest, time to think. She'd give him as much of tonight as he needed. But come morning, things would have to return to normal—at least, it would have to appear normal to his family, his friends and coworkers.
The poor guy.
Her gut feeling about him had been right. He wasn't just innocent; Bryce had taken a good person, someone he'd apparently cared about at one point in time, and he'd essentially ruined his life. And for what? That phone call with Graham cemented for her that this stuff in Chuck's head was incredibly top secret, high-level security stuff. Stuff above her clearance, too, she assumed.
He'd have a target on his back now. And not just when it came to the bad people out there who'd kill to have those secrets in their possession. But she was afraid her superiors, Chuck's own government, would be gunning for him too. If not literally, then at least figuratively.
She could imagine terrifying guinea pig situations. How did his brain handle that much information? They'd want to know eventually.
Pushing that thought out of her head, trying to keep from getting lost down the rabbit hole of morbidity and darkness, she thought instead of how much he'd smiled and laughed throughout the night, and how much he'd made her smile and laugh. If she went back as far as she could remember, she wouldn't be able to recall laughing that much, or grinning so idiotically.
And to think she'd been duped into thinking this would be a three day mission, quick and painless. If she could help it, she'd stick by this Nerd Herd supervisor's side for as long as she needed to. Because he had no one in his corner, otherwise.
God, he must feel so lost. So confused.
And hurt.
She'd seen it in his eyes—that look of genuine interest when he gazed across the table at her, over his chile relleno and her carnitas taco plate. And then there'd been the awe and even a speck of confusion, as though he didn't understand what a girl like her was doing on a date with a guy like him. Like he'd accidentally stepped into some other man's life.
He had to understand now.
Because a girl like her hadn't gone out on a date with him because she wanted to. That much had to be clear to Chuck now. And she was positive that didn't feel good. Granted, she was sure she wasn't even close to the worst thing about tonight. He had the government dogging his every step. She was sure he knew she'd followed him, that she was up here watching, to make sure that heaviness in his shoulders and head didn't cause him to just walk into the ocean and not stop until it was too late to come back to the shore.
But that wasn't him. That wasn't Chuck Bartowski. She'd only needed to see the way he protected his sister a few hours ago, not ten minutes after he used a porn virus to defuse a bomb. Instead of being a complete basket case, which she never would've faulted a civilian for, especially after everything they put him through, the revelations, the whole almost dying thing, he charged towards two government agents. He looked right into both of their faces and laid down the rules, ensuring his sister's safety. He'd been right to do it, and he'd impressed her, as frustrating as it was that this guy didn't seem like he'd be as easy as she let Graham think he'd be.
The less fuss he caused, the easier it'd be to sell this whole set-up to the director of the CIA. And this guy was going to cause fuss. The second he told them they needed him, before marching off with his shoulders pulled back, determination in his gait, she knew Chuck would be trouble.
And she admired him for it. She liked it this way. God, she was crazy but she liked it this way.
This wasn't the type of man who gave up when things looked bleak, when life proved to be too hard. As slumped as his shoulders were currently, as he sat out in the sea breeze, moonlight playing on the water in front of him, this man was a survivor. And if for nothing else, he'd continue and fight and do what he could for his sister's protection, for all of the people he cared about.
She hated how selfish it was, but she couldn't help being almost upset that there was little chance of her being one of those people Chuck cared about. At least, not anymore. Not after he found out she was a spy who worked with the CIA and not merely a woman who was interested in him.
He probably hated her now. She'd lied to him, manipulated and played him. And now she'd be here, hovering around him, invading his life. There was no way for him to escape her. It was so much worse knowing he wasn't going to look at her with those golden-hued eyes of his the way he had a few hours ago when she teased him for dropping his fork on the floor.
He had every reason to hate her. She hated herself.
Would he hate her less if he knew she was the only reason he was sitting out on this beach in Malibu instead of in a jumpsuit in a bunker somewhere underneath Langley? Or maybe in another country altogether? The image of him being locked in handcuffs like some sort of criminal or prisoner and shoved into a van with bars on the window haunted her. He'd be terrified and alone, and she thought, after that show he'd given them outside of the hotel a few hours ago, the first thing he'd think of would be what they'd do with his sister, what would they tell her? Would she be okay? Because that was the kind of guy he was.
Sarah shook her head at herself and huffed. For now, she had managed to prevent that. And she'd do everything in her power to try to keep her head above water where she could potentially see what in the hell the CIA—and Graham in particular—were doing here. What was this thing Bryce sent Chuck? How did it work? How was Chuck able to even retain all of that information in his human brain? How could she keep him safe in the meantime while she tried to figure all of this out?
She didn't know, but she'd figure it out, damn it.
Sarah Walker, Langston Graham's wildcard enforcer… She could play along. She do this for a little while longer until they figured out how to free Chuck Bartowski's brain and get him his old life back. He could go back to his desk at the Nerd Herd, save little ballerinas, goof off with his strange bearded friend, and maybe find some normal girl, some non-CIA agent, to go on a date with.
And to think just five hours ago, she was sitting at a table with him, sipping her margarita, original lime at his brilliant suggestion, wondering how a guy who made the kind of genuinely funny, off-the-cuff jokes he'd been making could ever betray his country the way Bryce was. The way Bryce had. Bryce was dead now, and she had to keep reminding herself of that. His last act on this earth had been potentially ruining this guy who'd been his friend at one time's life. It was despicable. She was angry. She wanted to bring him back to life so that she could punch him. For lying to her, yes, but mostly because he'd chosen Chuck, out of everyone he could've sent that to. He'd chosen to wreck Chuck's life.
She couldn't help but think it was something of a lucky fluke, the way Chuck had stopped the bomb tonight. This guy wasn't an agent. He wasn't an analyst even. He had no idea about this life, what it was, the horrible things it could be. He'd used a porn virus he'd probably come across at work to save the lives of dozens of people, as well as her life, Casey's, his own. But she knew in spite of that quick thinking and act of heroism, this guy didn't belong in this situation. Could he help them? Probably. Would he help them? He had no choice. But this would wear on him fast. And if he slipped, showed resistance, Graham would be there, the NSA and their asshole assassin would be there, to sweep him up and throw him in a deep hole where he'd never see the sun again and it wasn't fair. He deserved better.
She'd thought she was done with the CIA before. Well...she was especially done now. And yet, at the same time, she'd never been so...not done. She couldn't be done now. She had to be the best agent the CIA had ever produced if she wanted to protect Chuck from Casey, from whoever handled Casey, from Graham and the CIA. On top of protecting him from outside forces. She would have to be the best agent she was capable of being, and she knew she was damn good. They weren't going to continue pulling the wool over her eyes. She'd stay ahead of this thing so she could keep Chuck alive and out of a bunker, home with his people.
Because if she'd found out anything about Chuck Bartowski tonight besides the fact that he laughed and smiled easily, that he had a thing for salsa after she saw him dump it all over his plate...she shook her head, getting herself back on track even as she felt herself smiling...If she'd found out anything about him, it was that he wouldn't survive without his people. He wouldn't make it for long away from his sister, his best friend, probably even the people at the Buy More. Maybe even Jenna at the bar he'd taken her to. He was a people person…
God, she couldn't let them do this to him. But first she'd need to find a way to get him on her side. She needed him to know she had his best interests at heart. He needed to trust her more than he'd ever trusted anyone. Because just as he needed an ally in her, she needed one in him. She needed him.
But she was afraid. Because she wasn't sure the extent to how much he'd need her. And after tonight, after those moments of real and genuine warmth she'd felt towards him, the little inklings of ponderings about what might happen if it had been a real date, just two regular people enjoying one another, she was afraid she might want to meet those needs in a way that wasn't conducive to keeping him safe. Or to her eventually leaving once she was sure he was out of danger, his brain free.
She had too much to juggle. She had taken too much on. This was all too much. And she had to get her head on straight. To think she'd thought this damn mission would be a walk in the park, her asset just a two day acquaintance, a potential hit if Graham required it… No, maybe not. Especially not now. They'd have to kill her first before she put a bullet in this man. She was absolutely certain of that.
She would have to make certain he knew it, too. He didn't have to trust Graham, the CIA, the NSA, or even Casey. He just had to trust her.
When his head drooped even lower, she felt an ache in her chest. She was so done after this. But until then, she would be every bit of the good agent she had to be. Not for Graham, not for the CIA, not even for the country… but for Chuck Bartowski. And then...when he was safe...she was out. For good.
"Don't worry, Chuck," she breathed quietly, as if the sea breeze might waft her voice across the cool sand and into his ear, warming him, reassuring him. "I've got you."
}o{
The beach was quiet...the waves crashing against the shore always calmed him. However tonight he didn't need to be calmed like he did most nights he was here. He placed his hand down, felt a small rock beside him, picked it up, and threw it into the ocean and realized he had just thrown something back into the ocean that may have taken decades to get where it was. He sighed.
He had thought when all the guns were pulled, they were here for him because of his past...not Bryce, but his past as Piranha. They weren't, and although he was worried, there was a look Sarah had given him that told him she would protect him. He should have known someone like her wasn't asking him out because she was interested in him. Which brought him to another problem… his actions today.
He wasn't a hero, but he couldn't watch people die. He chuckled to himself. That was true, but what drove him into action tonight, more than anything was her. He couldn't watch her die and do nothing. It could have been two random people and he would have done something, but with her there it was...different. It figured, the one person who FINALLY pulled him out of the Jill Funk (™ pending) was out of his league and only there because she had to be. Because it was her job. But, he was in Sarah Walker's life, and he was pretty sure that was pretty special in it's own right.
The sun was rising, and he had thought about a lot of things, but the one he always came back to, was that he wanted to be in her life. He wanted to be a part of her life, and if the only way he could be was this way, then he would. He felt a peace come over him. He knew it wasn't the decision he made, but that she was near. He'd been feeling that anytime he was around her for a while. He just hadn't admitted it to himself. He was gonna be in Sarah Walker's life, and that was better than not being in it at all. Maybe. Hopefully. He had no idea what all of this would mean, still.
The small smile that had come over his face dimmed as he realized the depths of trouble he was in now. In spite of the sky lightening over the horizon, he felt like he was still drowning in the dark. He was confused and afraid, and he needed something solid, something real, to hold onto.
That was when that strange sense of peace got a bit stronger, and he heard shuffling behind him. He didn't look, because he knew it was her. And her legs clad in black pants appeared beside him. For some reason, her bare feet digging into the sand made him feel less alone in that moment. He didn't get why. They just did.
"How long you been here?" he asked when she stood there silently for a few seconds.
And then she slowly lowered herself to sit next to him, close. Closer than he'd expected. And she set her boots down beside her, letting them flop to the side, caked in sand. "All night."
He knew that. He hadn't looked behind him once but he'd known she was there. When he'd left the two agents alone after that determined, brave spiel he'd given them, he'd felt even more depleted. Empty threats. They all knew it. But he had to do something to make it known he wasn't letting his family, his people, get wrapped up in this, no matter what happened to him.
He'd known one of them would follow him.
For some reason, he felt it would be her.
She'd just let him be alone for most of the night, watching over him like a silent bodyguard or something. A sentinel in the Malibu darkness. He inwardly snorted at himself for that one.
But then she'd been here all night. Somehow she'd followed him. He hadn't seen her following him as he drove his Herder through the streets of LA, onto the multiple freeways that took him out towards the coastline, to his favorite beach. Not that he'd been looking for her. He hadn't cared so long as he got to one of the places that seemed to give him peace when he was struggling the most.
She'd tailed him here, in spite of not knowing where he was going, that this was one of his places. And that meant she could probably tail him anywhere. Everywhere. "There's nowhere I can run, is there?"
She paused for a moment. "Not from us."
That answer almost pissed him off. Not at her. She was just doing her job, wasn't she? Following orders. Just like she had when she'd picked him up at his Nerd Herd desk yesterday afternoon. No, he was upset at just...everything. He could feel change in the air, and not the good kind of change. It was bad change, the kind of change that meant his life and freedom were in danger. And that feeling of helplessness washed over him again and he wanted to hold onto something. Something stationary...normal.
He felt trapped. He was terrified. And then he was also just tired. Always so tired. Because of course this shit would happen to him. After everything else he'd dealt with. He couldn't just live his normal eleven dollars an hour retail existence in peace. Why not? He didn't hurt anybody. He didn't wish anyone harm, not even the people who'd hurt him the most in life. He just wanted to be left alone.
Screw everything.
And screw the way he could feel the heat of her gaze against the side of his face. She stared at him blatantly, as though trying to figure him out. It couldn't be all that hard, he thought a bit sourly, when she was a CIA agent, after all. It had been woefully easy for her to get him out on a date last night, hadn't it?
Of course it was easy. Look at her, you idiot.
"Talk to me, Chuck."
He just watched the waves straight ahead, but he couldn't help being a bit surprised. Was she angling to get inside his head? Figure out where he was? Was this more manipulation?
And then he thought immediately that he was being incredibly unfair. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault, either. And yet they were both stuck here, with this shitty situation, with each other. And because he was a sap, because he needed something to make him feel at least a little okay, he let himself feel a bit comforted that she was here. That he wasn't totally alone. At least not physically, not anymore. And then...she'd been there all night. He hadn't really been alone.
Chuck allowed that the woman sitting beside him was genuinely extending an ear to him, letting him talk things out, tell her what was on his mind. And he appreciated it. So he unloaded a bit, unable to keep the disbelief and frustration from his voice, hoping she knew it wasn't directed at her.
"Yesterday I was making eleven bucks an hour fixing computers." He finally turned his face towards her and that heat against his cheek was gone as she looked away, down at her lap. "Now I have one in my brain. And I can't figure out why Bryce did this. Why he chose me."
He took in her profile as the breeze picked up her blond hair and whipped it about her face. She'd had her hair up in those stick things, and he'd teased her about them right before things had gotten insane, when they were still walking down the sidewalk towards the bar, when things were still normal and he thought things were finally working in his favor.
What a stupid sap he'd been.
Sarah—Agent Sarah—whoever she was—pushed her hair back out of her face and gave her head a little shake, raising her eyebrows. "I'm sorry I don't have an answer for you, Chuck."
He sniffed in bitter amusement. "Thank you for at least being honest. I mean, he had—he had so many other people he could've done this to. Was he trying to screw up my life even more than it already is? I mean, wait for the guy to be at least somewhat stable, then implicate him in some terrible government sabotage bullshit scheme so that his life gets utterly fucked. Gah, this is so unfair."
"I know," she said quietly. "For what it's worth, and that might not be very much right now, I'm sorry, Chuck. I'm really sorry."
For which part, he wondered? The part she'd played last night? The faux date? Or because his life was, for all intents and purposes, over? Maybe she was just sorry for all of it.
"I'd say 'that's life', but this is so God damn out of control bizarre and not at all like anybody else's real life, so I can't even say that. I don't know what to say." He threw his hands up a little in frustration. "He could've at least picked another agent, someone he could trust to actually know what to do with this stuff. Instead of a nobody who clocks out at work and goes home to eat kettle corn for dinner while playing Call of Duty."
"You eat kettle corn for dinner?" He sent her a look and she ducked her head with a bit of a smirk, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Sorry. I suppose I was trying to lighten the mood sort of."
Chuck snorted and shook his head. And the smile dimmed then, as he realized there were some heavy implications to all of this. He had some heinously secret shit stored in his brain somehow thanks to Bryce who was apparently not an accountant and also dead. This was all stuff that was life and death for someone, somewhere. Hugely important. And that meant they'd never let him go. He wouldn't get far if he tried.
And he thought to himself that he'd never know what was in store for him unless he asked. Whether this CIA agent told him the truth or not, he wouldn't be able to know.
"What are you gonna do with me?" He turned to look right at her, studying her face hard, looking for any tells, any cracks in that beautiful mask. Then again, part of him wondered if she had a mask on right at that moment. Because there was compassion in her face, and it felt real. It felt so earnest. He wanted to believe it was earnest, so he did. He chose to believe. "What happens now?"
She swallowed, pausing for only a moment. "For now, you go back to your own life."
"W-Wha—D'you mean back to the Buy More?"
"Mhm."
"Like...everything is normal? Like none of this ever happened?"
"Something like that, yes." When he turned to look away from her, not saying anything else, his brain confused and hurting and fuzzy with exhaustion, she continued. "We'll protect you and you'll work with us."
He looked right at her, meeting her blue eyes that had a golden hue to them now in the light of the rising sun. He let himself actually think for a moment that he was going to be allowed to continue living his life, all of this disappearing, no agents or secrets, just his semi-deadbeat existence. He was a complete fool to think they'd ever let him off the hook like that.
He was going to have protection now. And he was going to work with them, whatever the hell that meant. He was way too tired to ask what any of it meant. He was tired and mad. And sad and confused.
"We?" he asked anyway, almost as if to spite his own brain. "Like...as in you?"
"Me, yes." She waited for him to meet her eye again and there was something there that set him at ease as she smiled, just enough for him to know it was one. It wasn't even that she smiled as much as she seemed to almost soften. "I'll be here." And then she looked away, and something else was in her face, something she covered up quickly. But he saw it. He was sure he'd seen it. Unsureness, or something else that made her seem almost vulnerable for a moment. And that more than anything else she'd said or done in the last twelve hours set him so at ease. "And he's gonna be here, too. Casey."
And there went the whole ease thing. "What? He's gonna protect me? He hates my guts. He tried to shoot me so he could eat pancakes."
A quick, amused smile appeared on her face as she ducked her head and looked away. And she quashed it fast, twisting her hands in her lap a bit. He wondered if that was a habit she wasn't aware of and he felt more and more like this could maybe be...not as terrible. Still terrible. And terrifying. But maybe not as much as he'd feared.
"The fate of our country depends on him making sure nothing bad happens to you, Chuck. I don't know Casey that well, but you better believe he thinks he's the biggest patriot that ever walked the face of this earth. He'll protect you no matter what he thinks about you. Those are his orders." She seemed like she was going to say something else, but then she shook her head a bit and shut her mouth, her lips forming a thin line.
"The fate of our country, huh? Depends on me staying alive? To quote someone we both know, that makes it better?"
She sniffed in amusement and shrugged a little. "Yeah. I mean, who else can say they've got two of the top intelligence officers in the country making sure nothing bad happens to them?"
"You make a good point. As terrifying as it is." Something occurred to him then and he looked right at her again, watching her closely. "My sister and my friends...are they in danger?"
The CIA agent looked away, blinking out at the water, nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip. That was answer enough, he thought to himself bitterly.
"Fine. Then answer me this," he said, letting her off the hook a bit. "What do I tell them about all of this?"
"Tell them nothing to keep them safe," she said immediately, meeting his gaze steadily. He raised his eyebrows a bit and looked away from her, frowning deeply. "I'm sorry," she said again. "It's for the best."
He shook his head and scoffed quietly. "On top of everything, I have to lie to the people I care about, too."
She bit her lip and shrugged. "It's less like lying and more like...keeping a secret." He gave her an incredibly flat look. "A very big secret."
"Don't. It's lying. I'm lying to them. But if you say that's what's gonna keep 'em safe, well, then...what choice do I have?" He shrugged in frustration, shaking his head.
She didn't do him the disservice of lying or giving him false hope, she wasn't blowing smoke up his ass, and he appreciated that so much. In just staying silent and looking at him with that quietly warm gaze of hers, she somehow made him feel better than any words she might use could.
"Are you okay?" she asked finally. He lowered his chin and made a face at her, making her smile and look away again, shaking her head a bit. "I know this is...a whole lot. And you probably aren't okay. At the moment. But I still think it's a fair enough question for me to ask right now."
He smirked at her. "I'm not. I'm not okay. But I'll have to get there, won't I? I don't have a choice in that, either. If I'm going back to my life, back to the Buy More, living with my sister and her boyfriend...They can't know anything. And I'm going to have to at least learn to pretend I'm okay."
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Yeah." He huffed. "Speaking of...They probably thought I'd be home hours ago. I'm not really known for scoring like this on first dates," he said, pointing to the both of them. And then he realized how bad that sounded belatedly. "S—I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean, I did, but that wasn't...I shouldn't have. Sorry."
Her eyes had widened a bit, but she chuckled good-naturedly, squirming a little awkwardly. "It's okay, Chuck."
"I mean, that wasn't—it hadn't been my...I mean before I found out you were a CIA agent sent to find out if Bryce was—I mean, if I was working with Bryce. I wasn't looking to...not on the first date. Unless that was...No, nope. Not gonna say that. I'm—I'm really tired. I'm exhausted. I think—Does that thing that's in my head do something to my brain cells? I feel like my dendrites are probably damaged from that weird thing that happened with the, uh, the guy. And the bomb."
Her hand landed on his arm. "Do you want me to take you home? I-I mean, I can drive. I'll drop you off at home."
She'd cut him off, saving him from his own damn mouth. He felt grateful. And he shook his head. "No. Nah, I'll drive. I'm okay to drive. I can...take you somewhere I guess."
"Oh. That's nice of you but I've got a car."
"Oh." He glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. That makes sense. How would you have found me without a car?"
She smiled quietly at him and then she diverted her gaze. "Hey, I'm gonna need you to do one more thing for me."
He sighed and nodded a bit. "Yeah?"
He felt her gaze land on him again, and it felt important almost, so he swept his brown eyes over to meet her blue ones.
"Trust me, Chuck."
He gave her a bit of a crooked smile, taking her in, thinking about how much he'd liked her the night before, how adamant she was that she wasn't funny, even as she made him laugh. How she'd finished her margarita and had made a show of deciding whether she wanted another one or not. And that smile of hers that was flirtatious sometimes and other times just so warm and endearing and beautiful.
Chuck wasn't sure if any of that had been real. In fact, he thought most of it hadn't been. Or maybe he just didn't know anything at all and he was a complete mess. But the way she was looking at him right in that moment, with no one else around but them made him think that he could stand to trust somebody maybe.
She walked all the way out here to talk to him when she didn't have to. He imagined anyone else, that jerk guy Casey for instance, the guy who was apparently going to be a bodyguard or something, would've just sat up there and waited until he finally got up and made to leave the beach.
But Sarah didn't do that. She was here, sitting next to him, reassuring him.
And he must've held her gaze for a little long, because she looked down, turning her head forward, and she twisted her lips to the side a bit, pushing her hair behind her ear again. When he looked down into his lap, he felt her bump him with her shoulder.
And he grinned, feeling her peek around at his face, seeing her smile in his peripheral. He could trust her, maybe. He felt like he needed to. He needed something to steady him. Someone. And in spite of the hurt he'd felt at realizing she wasn't on a date with him because she was interested in him, he wondered if that wasn't just his ego. Everything else was more important than that. He had to find a way to be okay. And Sarah—Well, she just might be the way.
A/N: That's that! We'll be back later with more! Please review! Thanks!