A/N: DC here. I've read all the reviews, so first off, thank you all! Secondly...it does feel a bit stalkerish to do so...Anyway, it took 6 chapters to get through the pilot. Each ep won't be that way. Some eps won't exist in our world. Some brand new ones will. Early, you'll see small changes. Those lead to big changes. We have three seasons planned out. We figure when we finish season one we'll work on four. Sounds like a plan. Do you know how much fun it is to collaborate with Steampunk? It's awesome. And by the way, there's a spot coming that was originally fluffier, and I pulled it back, not her. Because we have a plan. It's a good plan….we think. We're fairly sure.

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Chuck or profit off of it monetarily...it does bring joy to our hearts however.

"Chuck!"

He sighed heavily as he stared at the motherboard he held in his hands, not even looking up at the intruder making their way into his cage. "What?" he droned.

"Thank God I found you, okay?" Lester slithered up to the desk he sat at. "I can't do this anymore. I cannot be out there alone with that...scary and terrifying man. I swear, he looks like the type of person who sharpens his teeth before he goes to bed at night."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lester?" Chuck asked, finally looking up at his coworker. "I have, like, thirteen of these damn things to fix. That's why I'm back here doing it instead of out there. I've got a lot of work to do."

"Well, Charles, so do I. But I can't do any work while I'm being literally stalked around the store by that tank of a man Big Mike hired." He slammed his fist down on Chuck's desk. "I've had it." All Chuck had to do was raise an eyebrow and slowly stand to his full height, towering over the much smaller man, and Lester nearly whimpered, his chin quivering as he looked up at him. "I mean, I could just deal with it. I could deal, that's fine. I'm a big boy, right? ...Right?"

Chuck sighed tiredly. "Lester. Why don't you just tell him to stop following you around?"

"Because you're taller than me. Logic, Charles."

"You want me to do it?" He laughed in Lester's face, even leaning down a little. "Uh, no. Nuh uh."

"Why noooottttt?" the shorter man whined as Chuck plopped back down into his chair. "You're my supervisor. You're here to protect me."

"No. I'm here to tell you what to do. Like right now: Get out of my space."

"Char—"

"Bartowski!" He looked up to see Casey walk into the back, approaching the cage. "You see that little pipsqueak Le—Oh. There you are, Lester." A predatory look came over his face and Chuck was almost afraid for the other man's life.

"Lester? Who's he? I'm just a figment of your imagination." He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers as both Chuck and Casey looked at him dryly.

"Can we do...whatever this is…" Chuck groused, gesturing between them, "elsewhere? So that I can fix these things before I'm eighty years old?"

"You're supposed to be a supervisor, ain't ya?" Casey growled at him. "Can you supervise so these idiotsticks stop messing with my sales?"

Chuck groaned, plopped back into his chair, then looked up at the ceiling, making a pitiful sound, and finally letting his head fall to the desk. "Why meeee?"

"I didn't do anything!" Lester said.

"You asked my customer what his musk is, you freakin'...freak," Casey said through his teeth. "He left before I could sell him the bullet blender. That would've been commission."

"How is that a strange question?" Lester asked, looking between them with legitimate curiosity.

Chuck lifted his head and furrowed his brow at Lester. Was he more confused or disgusted? He didn't really know. "Seriously? That—"

"Bertha to video games. Bertha to video games…" Morgan's voice came over the store's intercom and they all froze.

"Wait a second…" Casey snapped his fingers. "That's the shoplifter announcement. Bertha, right?"

"C-Casey, remember during training? I said BERTHA means you just go stand in the area and ask customers if they need help finding anything—Casey? Casey. Casey..."

That predatory look was on his face again though as he started for the door that led out onto the floor of the Buy More.

"Casey? Cas—Casey. Oh, boy." Chuck scrambled up from his chair and followed after him, pushing Lester out of his way.

"That shoplifter is about to be murdered, methinks," Lester chirped unhelpfully, not budging.

Casey picked up the pace, walking like a man on a mission. And maybe the NSA shouldn't have sent some kind of crazy-ass killing machine to protect him and then make him work retail, for God's sake.

"Hey! Hey, Casey! Don't...don't do it. Casey…" He hurried his own step and tried to grab the burly man's arm, but he had his hand shrugged off easily. "Oh, God…"

"I repeat," Morgan said over the intercom. "Bertha to video games...like, the XBox region...or thereabouts…"

Chuck rolled his eyes as he turned the corner, still hurrying after Casey, and saw Morgan holding the intercom in his hand, crouched behind a cardboard promotion stand-up and peeking around it to watch as Doug, their usual shoplifting culprit, picked up one of the games and looked down at it in a very obvious I'm going to steal you sort of way.

"You sonofabitch," Casey roared, and the poor kid spun on his heels to look at him. He literally screamed, then took off in the other direction. "Hey! Get back here, ya little shit!"

"Casey!" Chuck yelled as the NSA agent tore after the kid. "Oh God!"

Chuck had no choice but to race after both of them. What would he do if he caught up to them? He didn't know. He'd tackle that when he got to it.

"Hey! The hell's he doin'?" Morgan called, and Chuck heard his friend take off after him, hot on his heels.

Chuck saw the kid disappear out of the store then, and Casey wasn't far behind him, nearly knocking an elderly man walking inside onto his ass.

"I'm so sorry!" Chuck yelled as he dashed through the door, nearly crushed by it. He thought he heard the unfortunate sound of Morgan smacking into the glass before it reopened for him, but he just kept running. He couldn't let the guy who was supposed to be protecting him murder a kid for stealing a stupid video game. Nobody's life was worth any single one of the products the Buy More sold. "Casey! Stop!"

As he sprinted into another row in the parking lot, he belatedly saw the car that was driving into his path, and he felt the bumper slam into his thigh. He flew up onto the hood, rolled off of it, nearly fell flat on his face, but managed to get back to his feet in record time. "Gah! Sor—!" was all he managed to get out as he kept running. Hopefully that person didn't have nightmares over that moment. Woops.

Someone pushed their Large Mart cart out from behind their SUV and he valiantly leapt into the air, clearing the cart altogether, thanking the gods of height for his six foot four frame as he continued to stagger after the agent.

"Casey!"

The agent jumped up onto the hood of a car, his boots making dents in it as he leapt onto another car's hood and did the same, then another, then another, damaging at least four cars in the meantime. Totally unnecessary. "No, no! No! Casey!"

He finally dove off of one of the cars and tackled the shoplifter hard, hard enough that the kid would probably see stars until he was twenty.

When he straddled him, spun him onto his back and reared his fist, Chuck just barely got there in time to grab his wrist in both hands. "Casey! No, no, no, no, no! Dear God! It's just a video game, okay? Lives are not in danger! And the country is still safe."

Casey whipped his wrist out of his grip hard enough that Chuck nearly staggered backwards, just barely catching himself, still unable to catch his breath.

Morgan chose that moment to finally catch up to them. "Wow…." he panted. "Guy's been here for like twenty-four hours and he takes the job way more seriously than me…"

"That's because HE'S CRAZY," Chuck exclaimed, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," the agent growled as he hoisted the shoplifter to his feet and started walking him back towards the store. That kid was lucky to be alive, Chuck thought to himself.

"Oh, hey, Doooug," Morgan drawled as he followed after Casey. "Nice to see ya again, huh? Not so tough now, are ya?" He continued taunting the kid as they went back to the Buy More and Chuck just stood there, gaping, gasping for breath still, wondering how in the hell this was his life.

And then he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and the sentiment increased tenfold.

Because she turned right then and looked at him across the parking lot, her hair in pigtails on either side of her head and… "What?" he breathed out, standing to his full height and slowly lifting his hand to wave. Was she...working at the Wienerlicious? Wait, since when was there a Wienerlicious right there? And what in the hell was she wearing? Why did she have to wear that? What…?

She grinned, so bright and vibrant, and for a moment, he thought he might be able to run another mile he was filled with so much...something. And then she lifted the empty food tray and soda cup, wiggling her fingers at him around it. God, that was so cute. Why was she so—?

Wait, he had questions. A lot of them.

He should go ask her them. Yep.

Smoothing his hands down his pants, aware that he was sweating from the impromptu sprint, and nearly getting hit by a car… he moved across the parking lot, turning to look back towards the Buy More. He wouldn't be that missed, right? It'd be fine…

He hurried over to the Wienerlicious as Sarah carefully opened the door and slipped inside. As he got inside, he saw her standing behind the counter, her back to him, and the smell of the place was… Well, burnt corndog. Very badly burnt corndog. And maybe gas? He wondered if it was safe for either of them to even be in this building…

"Sarah…" he gasped out as he closed the distance. "What—What are you doing here?"

She spun on her heel, an overwhelmed look on her face. He'd laugh at the sight of her with a dishtowel in one hand and tongs in the other, smoke billowing up behind her, if he wasn't sure there was a chance she'd murder him for it. "I...uh, work here now, Chuck," she said above the frighteningly loud sizzling sound coming from the grill and the deep fryer.

"At the...Wienerlicious." He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

"Yes. You got a problem with that?" she snapped, lifting the basket out of the deep frier. "God damn it! Stupid fff—damn! God!" She kicked a trash can out from under the counter and picked the black, utterly dead corndogs from the basket, dropping them in the garbage. "I burned another stupid batch!"

Chuck pulled his lips back between his teeth and widened his eyes, watching the scene. "You, um...maybe…" Nope. The look she gave him told him to shut up real fast, so he did. "Um, can I ask why? Why you're working here, I mean."

"Surveillance," she said. "This way I can monitor the Buy More from here while you work."

"Oh. Cool. Well, Casey is currently working at the Buy More. Breathing down my neck practically," he groused through gritted teeth. "They really wanna have the both of you here, huh?"

She got a bit of a look on her face and then nodded. "Yeah. Just in case he, uh, needs back-up."

"Oh. Well, just FYI, he nearly put his fist through a shoplifter's head and the kid probably has a really good case for a lawsuit now, so is the, uh, government gonna cover the legal bills, 'caaaause…"

She smirked and shook her head. "Sounds like something he'd do."

"Yeah, um...so you're here. Casey's, um… Well, I guess what I mean to ask is, uh, is there a plan here? There's gotta be a plan here. Right? Because you making gourmet wieners isn't exactly the reason why you joined the CIA..." She got a look on her face and he spun to look to make sure nobody else was in the store. Since he realized he hadn't exactly...checked before. He was really good at this whole secret government shindig thing apparently. This felt like a great start. When he saw he was clear, he turned back to see an amused look on her face. "Casey isn't a natural born appliance salesman. And the whole, kinda, government secrets locked in my brain thing? That's, uh, I'm sure not really a boon for national security, so I'm hoping—I'm hoping that you'll tell me there's a plan?" He narrowed his eyes at her again, running his hands down his shirt to dry them. He was losing his footing a bit with all of this. Once again.

She gave him a closed mouth smile and leaned her palms on the counter-top. "There is a plan. We have a briefing in the Buy More in about…" She checked her watch. "Ten minutes."

"In-In the Buy More?" He raised his eyebrows. "There are, like, close to eighty people in there at the moment. Are we gonna do this in...front of them? My coworkers really aren't the brightest crayons in the box, Sarah, but I think they'll probably be a little freaked out if, like, the guns come out." He made his fingers into guns and made pew pew pew sounds.

She snorted and shook her head, wiping her hands on a towel and turning everything off. "We aren't taking guns out. It's just a briefing."

"Oh, like where heads pop up on screens and tell you the message will self-destruct in twenty seconds?"

She gave him a look. "Chuck, what is it exactly you think intelligence agencies do?"

"I dunno. I only have fiction to go off of. But where is this meeting supposed to happen? This just seems like a bad idea. Buy More employees are incredibly nosy. And curious. Like puppies. Horrible, awful puppies who sometimes harass our customers." He winced and she giggled a bit.

"Well, don't worry. Casey is taking care of it, apparently."

"Oh, the guy who nearly murdered a sixteen year old for stealing a video game?" He raised his eyebrows expressively at her. "I feel very reassured."

"Just get back over there before your boss busts you," she said, biting her cheek and rolling her eyes.

"Wanna come with?"

"Uh, in a sec. If I leave on a break, I have to tell Scooter so he can come cover the counter. You go ahead." She smiled.

"Kay." He snapped his fingers and smiled back, leaving the Wienerlicious behind, not catching the way her eyes followed him all the way out. He didn't see her grab her cell phone from her apron pocket once the door shut behind him.

A few minutes later, Chuck was ushered into the theater room by Casey. Sarah was already inside, waiting for them. "How'd you get here so fast?" he asked her. But before she could answer, Casey went to the blinds and shut them melodramatically. "Kay, well...that's kinda...weird."

"You want the whole store of idiots seein' the director of the CIA on the TV screen, moron?" Casey asked.

"Wow, okay. That seems...harsh."

"Just connect it, Casey."

He growled in annoyance at Sarah's brisk order and crossed to the TV, turning it on. Chuck had plopped down on the couch in the meantime, kicking his feet up and sinking a bit lower against the cushions. But as the two very official-looking figures showed up on the screen, he felt Casey's hand twist in his shirt and yank him to his feet.

"Have some damn respect," he snapped.

Chuck stood at attention, straightening his shirt, giving Casey a glare, before turning back to the small, redheaded woman and the much taller man leaning down behind the chair she sat in to stay in the picture.

"This is Bartowski, then, is it?" the woman asked.

"Uh. Hi. Chuck. You can...call me Chuck. Or whatever. Whatever you want. I guess."

Sarah's hand was on his arm then as she stood ramrod straight beside him, some sort of a hard mask over her features, he noticed. "Chuck, this is Director Graham, director of the CIA. And General Beckman of the NSA."

"I—Wow. Er…" He cleared his throat and stood a bit straighter, pulling his shoulders back. "Honored to, uh, meet ya."

"Our orders?" Casey interrupted, obviously impatient with the proceedings.

That earned him a bit of a sideways look from the general and Chuck decided then and there that he never wanted to be on her bad side. Ever. It didn't seem to bother Casey any, though. This guy was batshit crazy.

"For now, you stay as is," Director Graham said. "Casey, you continue working your shifts here at the Buy More. Agent Walker, you work at the hot dog restaurant." Chuck mused for a moment about whether the CIA director was actively avoiding using the word 'Wienerlicious' because it was stupid and ridiculous. "And you, Chuck. You do everything your handler tells you to do."

"H-Handler?" he turned to look at Casey first, then at Sarah.

He was ignored.

"When we have something we need you to look at, Chuck, Casey and Agent Walker will walk you through it," the general said.

"L-Look at? Look at what?"

He was ignored again.

"One more thing," Director Graham said, leaning in closer to the camera. "We need one of you to stick close to the asset when he isn't here at work. Agent Walker? You've already gone on a date with him—it's established with his family. His friends. You'll pose as the asset's girlfriend."

Chuck felt the blood leave his face. "Say what now?"

Still, he was ignored.

"Chuck's girlfriend?" Sarah asked, stepping forward a bit. "Director, Sir, is that...necessary for the operation?"

"I—I don't—I don't think so." He turned to look at her and wrinkled his nose. "I think we're...good, just...not doing that."

"Agent Walker, can you think of any other reason why you would be at the asset's home at night?"

"At my what? Huh?" Chuck gave Sarah a pleading look and she studiously kept her blue eyes fastened on the TV screen.

"Director...This really doesn't seem like a necessary—"

"Agent Walker," General Beckman cut in, her voice clipped. Sarah shut up real quick. "We'll find a way to get Major Casey an apartment near the apartment of Devon Woodcomb and Ellie Bartowski—"

"I—I live there, too. I pay rent." Chuck turned to assure Sarah. "I pay rent. Just...so you know. Split three ways."

She finally looked at him, then diverted her eyes and turned back to the TV.

"—but we can't rely on video surveillance all the time," the general continued. "There's a semblance of privacy we'd like to afford Chuck and his sister."

Chuck widened his eyes in surprise. "Surveillance? Video surveillance? That seems like a lot."

"Yes, we agree," the general explained in a patient tone, as though she was speaking to a child. "Which is why, instead, we will be installing Agent Walker as your girlfriend."

"Installing? Why are you making her sound like a dishwasher?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

He was ignored again, though he heard a soft choking sound from the CIA agent next to him. But when he looked at her, she was just as serious and professional as always. "Director… General… What exactly is the point of this?" she asked.

"Someone needs to protect him outside of work, when he isn't where Major Casey can see him throughout the day." Director Graham cleared his throat. "Agent Walker, this is an order. To the asset's family, friends, and coworkers, you will be his girlfriend. There is no other way to get Casey in that apartment…"

"Yeah, I'm not the cuddling type," the NSA agent snarked.

Chuck sent him a grossed out look. And he felt a little faint. Because the implication of that, and the rest of this, was clear. They'd have to be girlfriend and boyfriend, which meant...couch cuddles, hand holding...oh God, this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

Sarah sighed quietly beside him. "Yessir. Understood."

"Good."

Chuck wondered if he should be a little offended by the fact that Sarah had argued against being his fake girlfriend (would it really be that terrible?), but he immediately dismissed that immature thought. She shouldn't be having to do this. And neither should he. It was nonsense. Just another thing for him to lie to Ellie about, and Morgan.

And he decided that Sarah had been the one who'd gotten the order, not him, so he pulled his shoulders back a bit and looked the general and director dead in their faces. Sort of. Through a TV screen, but dead in their faces.

"I guess what I'm curious about, though, is how this is at all believable. A girl—woman—woman like Sar—er, Agent Walker. And a guy like me. I work in a Buy More."

"She works at the Wienerlicious, Bartowski," Casey said, giving him a look like he was the stupidest person he'd ever met in his life.

"I mean...yes, okay? Yes, true. But…" He looked around, at Sarah first, then at the intelligence bosses, then at Casey, and back at Sarah again. "Seriously? Am I the only one who is seeing this? Why would…?" He looked at Graham and Beckman, his eyes pleading with them. Neither of them registered anything. It was obvious they were used to giving orders and never having them questioned. They thought this was a good idea. Why, he had no idea. "You know what? Forget it. It's useless. Okay. She's my girlfriend." He huffed, his shoulders sagging.

This was a terrible cover, though. It was the worst cover. Everyone would see right through it. Everyone. He just knew it.

"Are you finished?" General Beckman asked.

"Yup."

"Good. We'll contact you when we have more. Chuck? You can go back to work. We'd like to speak with our agents." And the way she turned her gaze down to the papers on her desk was a clear indication that he'd lost her attention completely and he supposed he had nothing else to say because apparently she wouldn't be listening to him anyway.

"Right. Well. Good meeting, everyone." He was angry as he squeezed past a smirking Casey to go towards the door of the theater room. "Briefing. Sorry. Briefing." He sent the entire room a sarcastic look, then bowed out, shutting the door a bit harder than was maybe necessary.

He'd just been treated like an inanimate object. Or a dog. Or something else that had no agency or voice of its own. And what was with the CIA guy calling him an asset? "My name is Chuck," he growled.

Then he looked to the side and saw that Fernando was standing there, eyes wide behind his glasses. "I know," he said with a shrug.

"I hate my life, Fernando."

As he walked away, a dark cloud over his head, he heard Fernando say, "I know that, too."

}o{

She stayed stoic during the next part of the briefing. Beckman and Graham went on and on about Dr. Zarnow and how maybe he could fix this nightmare. It was a nightmare. She was thinking about finger pistols and dishwashers. She had laughed during a briefing... Had she ever done that before?

This was an absolute nightmare. She had to be Chuck Bartowski's cover girlfriend. A part of her that she didn't like to recognize existed was losing its mind, and the rest of her was thinking about how much of a problem this was going to be.

In one date, over one night, Chuck Bartowski had gotten to her. What was going to happen if this didn't work and they couldn't get the Intersect out? What was going to happen if this went on for months or, God forbid, longer?

Not that he wasn't pleasant to be around. No, she enjoyed being around him and that was the problem. She enjoyed it too much. She fought shaking her head in the middle of the briefing because Chuck was right. Anyone looking at this from the outside wouldn't believe them as a couple. Chuck recognized it, just as anyone else might, but honestly, she was a little floored by just how wrecked his self-esteem was. She knew how attractive she was, and how much of a mismatch they might seem to others because of it. But nobody knew who she really was, or what she'd done. Nobody knew what she was capable of, least of all, Chuck. He couldn't know that he deserved so much better than a stone cold killer. And she couldn't tell him. He deserved so much better than this.

He was going to have to give up his privacy because of the Intersect, but now...this? This was going to be terrible. He couldn't tell his friends or family. She had already resigned herself to the fact she was going to have to be his sounding board, the person he had to talk to work through things, because he was a talker. But now, the two of them, on dates, cuddling on the couch… Why'd her mind jump straight to that? She mentally shook her head. She was still in her thoughts as the meeting ended. She started to leave when he spoke.

"Walker, why are you doing this? You could be out of here tonight if we just put him in a bunker."

She turned and faced him. She knew what John Casey's answer to everything was, and she wasn't about to let him do what John Casey did best to Chuck. But maybe if he realized what Chuck could be… "We have a chance to work on real actionable intel and you want to throw him in a bunker? You realize that the best way to protect him is go on the offensive, which means gunplay."

Casey grunted, intrigued. "You have Secret Service training." It wasn't a question but she nodded. "You're in charge of the kid when we're both around. That way I can scratch my itchy trigger finger. Geek will probably piss his pants first time I shoot."

"Nerd," she fired back. She blinked and saw Casey's look. She calmed her tone. "Nerd," she said softer. "They prefer being called nerds. Little bit of honey keeps them calm." Casey nodded. "Now, I have a Wienerlicious to run." She turned and headed out the door.

"Does he know that's the only Weiner you're interested in?" She stiffened. It wasn't worth the retort. "The cover will crack him."

"He'll be okay," and with that walked out of the theater room. She walked past the desk, and saw Chuck. She was his cover girlfriend, so she should probably act like a cover girlfriend…

She gave him a slight wink and the smile on his face made something bubble up inside of her.

She pushed it down and turned on her heel, facing him and forcing a bit of a shy look onto her face. She could feel other eyes besides his on her—his coworkers, most likely—which she supposed sold this whole thing a bit more.

"Hey, um...I was, uh, wondering if you might be free tonight," she said, shrugging cutely. Chuck's brows furrowed, and then he turned to look first one way, then whipped his head around to look the other way, before he looked back at her and poked himself in the chest with his finger. "Yes, you," she giggled. "Who else would I be asking out on a date?"

"Oh. Nobody." And then he caught up to what she was doing and she saw his eyes dim just slightly. "Oh, right. Right, right." The cover. He'd figured it out. "Yeah, I'm free. Totally."

"Can I pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds perfect." He grinned. It was a very convincing grin, a bit dreamy, and she wasn't sure if it was convincing because it was real or if he was just that good of an actor. She was...confused. And she needed to stop being confused.

"Okay...Well, um…" She cleared her throat. "See ya then."

"Yooou will," he drawled, and they smiled at each other again before she walked away from him. She gave one last flirtatious glance over her shoulder as she moved towards the exit, and she felt that strange leaping sensation in her chest again when he bit his lip in response.

Damn it, this was going to be bad.

}o{

"Get your head out of the sky, Numbnuts." Chuck turned around and saw Casey. "You do know she's lethal, right?"

"What are you talking about? She kept you from killing me."

Casey grunted a laugh. "Why don't you ask her why they call her the Ice Queen?"

He turned and walked away, missing the odd face that Chuck made as he left.

The flash began suddenly. In it he saw random images of inocuous images, but two images stuck in his mind: One of Sarah Walker in surveillance footage, holding a gun...and the second was of her again, this time lifting a gun to point it right at the camera. The ring on her finger was clear as she fired a bullet taking out the camera. The flash ended and Chuck stood there, blinking. Morgan clapped him on the back, scaring him.

"Saw your girl earlier. You got another date?" Chuck turned toward his grinning friend and nodded. Morgan looked around. "Need me to get you some protection?"

Chuck let out a nervous laugh. Morgan had no idea.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC