A/N: DC here: You'll have to forgive SC and I. We look at the reviews some days and smile evilly. We might be several chapters ahead and see what people are asking for. We're building a HUGE story, so some of these small things are gonna lead to some BIG things. Canon will change, but again, we're in episode 3 right now. But could I interest you in perhaps some….fluff? Some non-cannon…..fluff. Maybe even…..underfluff (™ pending for ESC. She makes up words too, you know) Next chapter SC? Shall we give them a little taste? Just a little one? PLEASE? Guys, I promise, the little bitty changes, have HUGE affects even a few episodes later. Just bare with us. We'll get you there. Promise.

Also, extra points for those of you who picked up the Intersect's...uh…inconsistency. We spent a good hour breaking down the flash and that one reason we changed it up. I can't wait 'til you see what's coming in future chapters. I stay so excited about this fic. SC is worn out trying to keep me calm. Enough of me, SC...take it away.

(David suffers from a touch of megalomania. Excuse him. ;D -SC)

Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck, and we lament about that constantly.

There'd been a look on Sarah's face that he couldn't read when she'd walked him to the gate of his apartment complex. Casey left to do some clean up, still driving that limousine. Wherever he ended up taking it, whatever "clean-up" had meant when he'd said it over his shoulder as Chuck asked if he was coming in, too… Chuck had no idea. And at the moment he didn't care.

But she'd asked him if he was okay. Not for the first time tonight. And while she had good reason to ask that question, he couldn't stop his immediate reaction—a flat look. And she'd nodded, a small, wan smile on her face. And a muttered, "I don't blame you. Neither does Casey, even if he wouldn't say it to your face."

Chuck wasn't so sure about that. But he did know Sarah was still on his side, still watching out for him. So was Casey. It was their job.

"I'm hitting the sack," he said quietly. "Pretty tired."

"Right. Good idea. Er...Casey's...Casey's gone, probably for a few hours. He won't be here. Do you need me to…" She halted, looking for the best choice of words, he thought. And he decided to maybe spare her the effort, as much as he appreciated it.

"I'll be all right, now. Thanks." The meaning in her tentative questioning was clear. He'd freaked all the way out after they barely escaped the art auction with their lives. He'd had a hard time breathing in that limo once the reality of what could've happened hit him. He'd gotten the shakes, just about. And she'd seen all of it. He couldn't help feeling shame. He knew they shouldn't—and probably didn't—expect more than that from a civilian whose closest brush with death came at the hand of foes in video games. And he knew he shouldn't expect more from himself, either. It wasn't fair to do that.

But it still made him embarrassed. Especially with the way she was asking if he needed her to stay, as though he was still terrified, still unsettled and unable to take a deep breath. The shock had faded though, and he was just tired. So damn tired.

"Okay." She reached out and put a hand on his arm, squeezing. It was such a reassuring gesture, and a large part of him wanted her to come inside with him and maybe just sit in his room with him, talk to him about nothing in particular until he fell asleep. But that was ridiculous. She was his handler, a CIA agent, a fake girlfriend. That was all she'd ever be and that was all he had any right of expecting from her. She didn't owe him that much, even. But she was still here anyway.

"Good night. Uh, drive safe, huh?"

Agent Walker smiled and nodded. "Good night, Chuck."

And as he walked away, a thought occurred to him. He hadn't thanked her. He spun on his heel and watched as she moved to her car and made to get in. "S-Sarah…"

She looked up over the top of the car, one foot inside. "Yeah, Chuck?"

"Thank you. Again." He was outside where anyone could hear, so he couldn't add for saving my life like he wanted to. "I know it's what you have to do, technically. But it still means a lot. That you keep...being there. For me. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He turned then and walked into the courtyard, not looking back even one last time, because he wasn't sure he really wanted to watch the special agent climb into her Porsche and peel off like the incredibly bad ass, strong, powerful woman she was.

He wasn't intimidated by Agent Walker, as much as he knew she was better than him, better than this whole operation—meant for much greater things than protecting a Nerd Herd supervisor to the point of risking her own life.

He wasn't intimidated, he was in awe. But he was well aware that wasn't a small thing. He was well aware she wasn't for him. Even as a fake girlfriend, she was far out of his league. She was far out of any guy's league, but...especially his.

And he had no right thinking that way about her, so he shoved the thought out of his head and unlocked the door to the apartment he shared with his neurosurgeon sister and her heart surgeon boyfriend.

He spotted Ellie asleep on the couch the moment he stepped inside, and he eased the door shut behind him, trying not to wake her. It was chilly in the room, though, and her blanket had shifted to the point where it was only covering her legs, and he knew his sister didn't sleep well when she was cold, so he snuck over and moved to fix her blanket for her.

His keys maybe jingled a bit too loudly as he approached her, but she stirred, made a sleepy little humming sound, and turned onto her back, slowly opening her eyes. "Hey," she breathed.

"Heeyyy…" He hadn't wanted her to wake up. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation. He'd wanted to think about what to tell her about the date, get some sleep, and have his head on straight so that he could convincingly tell her how great the date went.

And of course the first thing she asked: "How was the big date?"

"It was...good, great, fine, I'm gonna go to bed, I love you." Most unconvincing, rushed, hack job he could've possibly done, but he was too tired not to fail at this.

"What?! No, nononononono…." She sat up and went so far as to grab his wrist in both hands, pulling him back. And he knew exactly why he'd found her on the couch when he came in, instead of in bed with Awesome. She'd been waiting for him to come home so that she could find out how it all went. Wonderful, caring, nosey Ellie Bartowski. He loved her. But God...sometimes he wished she didn't do this.

"Is that all I get?" she asked, sitting up all the way and making room for him on the couch, swinging her legs around to put her feet on the floor. "Come on…Sit down." She patted the cushion next to her. "I wanna know."

He plopped down with a put-upon sigh. "El, it was a date."

"A date you spent a good amount of time getting ready for. Renting this tux…" She couldn't possibly know that her tax dollars had gone into the renting of this tux. "The dance lessons with Devon."

"Yeah, I know, it...was fine."

"Fine." She gave him a look. "Okay, fine. I'll let you have that. But answer me this: Do you like this girl?"

Oh no come on pleeeeease…

"It's—You know, it's complicated."

The look she gave him was one he was accustomed to. She'd had a younger version of it back when they were in high school and he was trying to explain to her why applying for Stanford wouldn't do him any good, because there was no way he'd ever get in and what was the point? On top of the application fee he'd never get back…? It was the 'I see right through you, so stop this bullshit' look.

But instead of voicing her frustration, she sighed and leaned her elbow on the back of the couch, swiveling to face him better. "Well, explain it to me slowly. I'll catch up."

He couldn't get around her. He couldn't. He knew he never would be able to. But she couldn't know Sarah Walker was a spy sent by the CIA to protect him because he had a government database jammed into his brain by an email Bryce Larkin sent him on his birthday. She couldn't know he wasn't actually dating this woman, and maybe he was selfish because he didn't want to lose that excitement and pride she'd gotten from this whole thing so far. It felt good that this made her feel good. But it was a lie, so that then, in turn, felt really horrible.

Chuck just wanted to go to bed.

Maybe he could tell her...something, though. Maybe he could be real with his sister without telling her the big stuff, the important stuff that might put her in danger. So he glanced away and said, "She's a very beautiful girl."

Ellie didn't say anything for a moment and he looked back at her. "Good…? Go on…" she prompted when he didn't continue.

"And...she's very...agile…" This telling Ellie something idea wasn't panning out.

"I'm not sure how that applies, but continue…"

"I-I just think she's too exhausting for me." That was the truth, he realized. And maybe he was on the right track finally. He felt an ache in his chest as Ellie frowned thoughtfully at that.

"Wait, exhausting...how?"

"For five years, I've gone to work, come home, a semi-regular trip to the pier with Morgan for arcade times...I wasn't kidding around when I said my world so far has barely extended past the end of this couch. And suddenly I meet Sarah and I'm…" Getting chased by the NSA, almost blown up by a bomb, nearly the victim of a helicopter crash, and splattered on the ground after a multi-story fall from a hotel balcony where an art auction is being held… He paled a bit, then cleared his throat. "She's exciting. And it's almost too much excitement for me, right away, this soon, and I'm just exhausted. I just don't know if I'm...enough...for a woman like that, Ellie. I don't know if my life, my lifestyle is...compatible with hers." He huffed and shook his head.

Ellie twisted her lips to the side thoughtfully, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "I don't want this to come off as lecture-y, because I'm not lecturing you. Not this time, at least." She winced when he sent her a look. "I mean, are you giving her a chance, though? You've only been going on dates for, like, a week, Chuck. I mean, this is more than you've had with any other girl since...that thing you dated in college." Chuck choked a little at that. "Do you think maybe that means something? Like, maybe you like her more than you like...your lifestyle."

He frowned in confusion.

"I just mean that maybe-maybe she's a great girl who is worth...a little change to your life. Some adventure, fun you're maybe not used to having." She nudged his shoulder. "What happened on this date of yours, anyway, that made you so...hesitant about Sarah?"

Aforementioned Sarah had shot a few arms dealers to save his life, and not for the first time in the last week since she waltzed up to the Nerd Herd desk for the first time. That seemed like such a long time ago now.

"It's not any one thing that happened...It's...hard to explain, El. I'm not—It isn't even that I'm hesitant, I'm just...thinking a lot."

"Maybe you're overthinking?" He furrowed his brow at her and she chuckled quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you just date the girl if you like her? Take your brain out of it a little bit."

"I guess you know about brains, huh? You stick scalpels into 'em on, like, a daily basis."

She tilted her head and pressed her lips together. "Uhhhh, interesting description of my profession, but sure."

They chuckled together. "Did you guys tango?" she asked then.

"Oh yeah! Yeah. We tangoed. In fact we tangoed quite a bit, but, uh, Awesome taught me the woman's part of the tango, so it was a little difficult, as one might expect."

Right on cue, Awesome himself strutted out of the hallway in nothing but his boxers, looking like his usual Adonis self even though the discussion in the living room had probably woken him up from a deep sleep. Like, seriously, the guy couldn't at least put a shirt on or something…

"Sup, bro?" he asked as he plopped down beside Ellie and slung his arm over her as she laughed. "You do the famous dip?"

"Mhm, I was on the receiving end of that dip."

He looked confused for a second. "You...did tango with a woman, right?"

"And on that note…" He climbed up to his feet, Ellie still laughing, and he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't the butt of the joke this time. Any other situation, he wouldn't mind it. He'd even laugh along, but he had a proverbial bee in his bonnet at the moment and he was getting grumpy.

"No nononono...you're not getting off that easy," his sister said pulling him back down to the couch. The grumpiness increased. Her smile faded then and she gave him a serious look, a caring and serious look. And he hated to let her down, but he was finished with this conversation.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

His heart plummeted. Damn it.

"It's…" He glanced at Awesome. "Look, it's complicated, okay?" he asked in his softest, most loving voice he could muster. Because he was letting her down again. Not looking like he was willing to stick out this relationship with a girl Ellie found impressive—because she was impressive, way way way too impressive to be stuck here doing what she was doing—and looking like he wasn't willing to talk to her about it. He hated all of this and he somehow felt worse now than he already had. "Just let it go," he added. "Please?"

She looked almost a little hurt as she sighed and looked away. "Fine. You don't want to talk to me? I suggest you find someone else you can talk to about this, like maybe your idiot friend. He's called about seventy-five times. He...locked himself in a storage cage...whatever that means."

Chuck frowned and realization hit him. He shut his eyes and nodded. He supposed he wasn't actually going to get to sleep after all, at least not for a while.

}o{

It wasn't that she didn't believe Chuck, or that she didn't trust him. She was trying not to infantilize him. She would normally take him at his word when he said he was okay. But in the last week since she'd first been sent to Burbank, she'd never seen Chuck that shaken up. She supposed that wasn't saying much since it had only been a week, but it had been an insane week, even by her own standards as a CIA agent.

He'd been in shock once she got into the back of the limo with him. And she'd had to get him to lean forward and put his head between his knees. She hadn't been sure, but she thought he'd been shaking, too.

She didn't blame him. This entire situation was unfair, sudden, something she wouldn't wish on even her worst enemies. And he'd said La Ciudad nearly threw him off of the balcony, including the gunfire that had most likely come close to hitting him when she and Casey first arrived on the scene, bullets whizzing past his head.

Chuck told her he was going to sleep, that she didn't need to stay and look after him. She believed he thought he was okay, that he'd be good for the night now. But what he believed didn't necessary line up with what the case might actually be.

And La Ciudad was still on the run. Chuck had muttered, "she knows my name, she knows my name, she knows my name" over and over and over in the limo, and Sarah put the pieces together. He'd given up his real name to the most dangerous arms dealer in the world, a woman who'd successfully murdered more people than Sarah's agency even knew, no doubt. She didn't even blame Chuck for that. Because he hadn't told La Ciudad who he worked for. And even that, she wouldn't have blamed him for.

That said, he was still in great danger. It wasn't something she wanted to tell him. She didn't much fancy the idea of seeing him like that again. She could feel his shame, see it in the way he'd looked away, out the window, once he got over the worst of the shock and was calming down. It hurt, admittedly. She didn't want him to be embarrassed, or feel bad about himself, for a purely human reaction to an incredibly harrowing situation. And especially not in front of her. It hurt seeing him that way.

So here she was, Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA, quietly maneuvering her car into the back alley behind the Buy More warehouse. She'd followed him the whole way at a safe distance, knowing he wasn't the type to look for a tail. Why would he look for a tail? What in his life had ever warranted it?

But she was curious. She hadn't expected him to come back out of his apartment again tonight. And so she'd kept watch, staring at the only exit and entrance to the complex, daring anybody to even fucking try to harm him or his family.

And then he'd come out, a tired slump to his shoulders, his suit still on, tie still untied from when he'd had a hard time breathing in the limo. Why he was leaving, she had no idea. Where in the hell did he think he was going, she'd wondered? Especially when La Ciudad wanted his head on a spike.

But he was going to work, apparently.

She picked the lock on the side door next to the large delivery door, knowing it'd be a lot quieter, but she wondered if anybody had ever even used this damn door in the last ten years. She had to slam her shoulder into it to get it open, wincing as she realized how loud that probably was.

But she needn't have worried, because as she snuck through the boxes in search for Nerd Herd supervisor, she found him talking to Morgan in the cage, surrounded by old computers in various broken states.

Chuck was okay. And apparently, he was here to rescue his best friend from his own harrowing situation. Being locked in the cage with old computers…? Apparently the bearded guy had an old computer phobia…?

She listened and watched from her hiding place in the shadows as Morgan explained that the asshole Harry Tang brought more computers for the Herders to have to fix and that they'd abandoned the task of helping Chuck get the assistant manager job, trapping him in the cage himself when he tried to get them to stay.

Sarah hadn't even known Chuck was still trying to get the assistant manager position, or "AssMan", as he'd called it during their first date a week ago. Their fake first date. She supposed. And he'd apparently had his coworkers, his friends, helping him while he went on another "date" with his "girlfriend". But their kindness ran out when Harry arrived with enough computers for them to fix that they'd be stuck in the cage for the rest of the night.

And instead, Chuck would be taking on the workload. Alone. He was actually doing it. The other nerds had abandoned him and he was going to just roll up his sleeves and do this, apparently. She got the feeling Harry Tang was a trash person, even though she hadn't met him. Chuck getting that position would mean the pernicious green shirt wouldn't be their superior at the store. He was essentially saving all of their asses.

He wasn't even blinking, instead diving right in.

But then she caught the tail end of something else Chuck was saying as Morgan prepared to leave him to it. "...it'll be nice to do something I'm actually good at, so I'll see you."

Sarah froze as she heard Morgan ask, "That bad?"

The tone in Chuck's voice was one she recognized. It wasn't the sweet self-deprecation she'd heard on their date almost a week ago. There was genuine belief in his voice just then when he spoke to Morgan. A belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, that tonight had been his fault.

It hadn't been. And she needed him to know that. He'd done more than should be expected of him. And he'd been brave in spite of the high-pitched yelling she'd heard him emit. He hadn't told La Ciudad more than his own name. The data in his brain, the secrets Bryce had put there, was still safe. She didn't even know who Chuck was working with. All she knew was a name. Agents had crumbled in similar situations...and Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd supervisor, hadn't.

"Morgan, it became pretty clear tonight that I'm not in her league. It became crystal clear that we come from two separate worlds and no matter how much I want it to not be true, it is."

She ducked her head and slid further into the shadows, pressing her back against the crate and tilting her head to glare at the ceiling. So apparently that was about her.

And this wasn't good. It wasn't good that he was putting her on a pedestal. She didn't understand why, after everything. And she didn't want this to be a problem.

There was the chance he was just playing to the cover. But it would be just as easy to tell Morgan the date went great and end it there. She was confused now, and she had to admit to herself that she was upset, too.

She needed Chuck to trust her. But this could be bad if he did more than just trust her. If he expected more from the cover they were projecting for his family and friends. This would be so much easier without the stupid cover. She thought Graham and Beckman would rethink the whole plan if they knew what might be happening—Chuck's potential feelings past just the handler and asset thing. She couldn't warn them about it, though. She would handle it herself. If they knew there was a chance for something more to happen here, even a one-sided thing, they would pull Agent Walker and replace her with someone else. Without blinking.

And hell no to that.

Morgan finally trudged out of the warehouse, leaving Chuck behind, per Chuck's request.

He'd already pulled his suit jacket off, his tie still loose around his neck, still wearing the suspenders she'd thought were kind of silly when he'd first shown up at the limo earlier that night. As she inched out from the crate and watched him roll his sleeves up, a screwdriver clenched between his teeth as he got to work, Sarah decided they weren't all that silly after all. Maybe.

He switched on some music and got to work, a man on a mission. A different sort of mission than the ones she and Casey were used to. It was something he was good at. And she found herself almost eager to see Chuck Bartowski in his element finally, for the first time since she met him. Doing something he knew, something he was familiar with, comfortable with.

She stayed there watching him, staying awake easily enough, not realizing as she hunkered down in the shadows that he was the reason why it was so easy to stay awake. His safety was important, of course, and so she should stay alert. But there was something in the way he moved, his hands steady and sure, his skill with the tools more than impressive.

Every so often, he'd break out of his concentration, pull back from the almost majestic dance of hands and technology, motherboards or circuit boards, or whatever the parts were he was handling. He'd play a beat to the music with screwdrivers on the desk in front of him, swivel his chair in a circle…

Then he'd go back to work. She found herself smiling more than once when he talked to himself, muttering things about what he was doing, mostly, and sometimes singing the words to whatever song happened to be on at the time.

Part of her felt bad as the night turned into morning, and the hour approached sunrise. Because she was getting a firsthand look at Chuck Bartowski when he thought no one was watching. What she saw was someone who was purely human—in the best possible way. She saw confidence, warranted confidence, when he had computers in front of him. It didn't matter how he reacted to the situation he'd been put in last night, even if he'd ended up fumbling. (He hadn't.) Because he was incredible at this. He was worth more than this, sure, but incredible at it just the same.

And in the meantime, he was saving his coworkers' asses. And his own too, sure.

She checked her watch after staying there for hours, watching the pile of broken computers dwindle, until she watched him click the last piece into place.

Sarah was startled by the time on her watch and decided it was probably smart to get back to her car and get out of there before the Buy More opened and someone saw it in the back alley and wondered what it was doing there.

As she slipped out the back, she still had a small smile on her face. This time it was more of a strained smile, a tinge of sadness in her. She didn't realize as she pulled away from the Buy More that she'd come out of the warehouse that morning with something different inside of her. A different perception of the world at large… Or maybe she was just different.

}o{

Chuck walked into the back room and found Morgan there. He appeared to be asleep but the more accurate explanation was probably that he'd passed out from fright, and when Morgan passed out from fright only three things woke him. Ellie's pot roast...he sure as hell wasn't asking Ellie to make a pot roast to wake Morgan. Grape soda...Chuck was fresh out. But the final thing and what he saw as he walked in...pizza. Chuck grabbed a piece and waved it in front of his little bearded buddy's nose. It was like smelling salts. Morgan popped right up as Chuck opened the door and came in with a slice on a plate.

"Oh, god! It's you." Morgan rushed him and hugged him. "They left me here, man. They left…" Chuck swore Morgan was about to tear up. "Dude, dude, you have no idea."

"Okay, okay, okay." Morgan squeezed tighter. "Settle down, settle down, settle down." Morgan finally released the grip a little, but when Morgan was scared, his koala instinct kicked in and he held onto things for dear life. It had once taken him twenty minutes to get Morgan to let Chuck go back when Billy Hendricks had ripped up Morgan's copy of Giant Sized X-Men #1. It took Chuck promising Morgan they could share his copy forever for Morgan to finally let him go. "Settle down, it's all good. It's all good." Morgan let go, nodding. That was quicker than Chuck had expected. "What happened?"

Morgan grabbed the pizza like he hadn't eaten for days. "Oh, what happened? Tang showed up, and he dropped all these off. I guess he was stashing them, you know? So... all right, let's do this."

Chuck had taken off his jacket and he turned toward his buddy. "What are you talking... Morgan, you don't know how to fix a computer. Besides, the insides scare you."

Chuck slipped his jacket over the chair as Morgan soldiered on. "Moral support, man. Never... never leave your wingman, okay? Something your team could learn a little something about."

Chuck knew his buddy was trying to help, but he had left his team behind, the Buy More team, that was. His spy team….they had left him behind as well, but when it mattered, they came and saved him. They did what they did best, and it was time for Chuck Bartowski to do what he did best. "Look, it's okay, man. Go get some sleep, okay?"

Chuck patted his buddy on the shoulder. Morgan was convinced. "Are you sure? 'Cause you say the word and we go down together."

Morgan brought his hand down and clasped Chuck's, while gripping Chuck's shoulder with his other hand. "No. I appreciate that." Chuck turned to look at the mess in front of him. "But I think it'll be nice to do something I'm actually good at, so I'll see you."

Morgan looked his buddy in the eye. "That bad?"

Chuck didn't know how to answer. Morgan had been his friend for so long, and to not be able to tell him the truth….well, he could, couldn't he. "Morgan, it became pretty clear tonight that I'm not in her league. It became crystal clear that we come from two separate worlds and no matter how much I want it to not be true, it is."

Morgan smiled at his buddy and squeezed his shoulder. "I am so glad you're finally getting some confidence back."

"Morgan," Chuck began, but Morgan had laid a finger over Chuck's mouth.

"Shhh, listen to me. You are Chuck Bartowski, the smartest guy I know, the smartest guy anywhere. You will figure this out, because dude, that girl is into you."

"Morgan," he attempted to say around the finger.

Morgan was having none of it. "Dude, the beard don't lie." Morgan pulled his finger away, and Chuck really didn't have the strength right then to fight Morgan logic. "You sure you're okay here by yourself?"

"Fantastic." Morgan scrambled away grabbing the pizza. "I'll see you later. Good night."

"Good night."

He began to work on the computers. He got into a groove and barely even noticed Big Mike walk into the cage.

"You finished, Bartowski?"

Chuck shut the lid on the last laptop. "Mission accomplished."

"Whoa! Two days was meant as an incentive. I didn't think you'd really do it. I'm impressed. And I'm not a man easily impressed."

Chuck appreciated the praise, but he couldn't take it all. "I think you should know that I only fixed the last few—my team did most of the work. They deserve the credit. And you're only as good as your team, so…"

Big Mike took a bite out of his donut and pointed it toward Chuck. "First rule of management: Always take credit." Chuck blinked...that explained soooooo much. "Hope we can sell all this crap."

Tang came in holding empty beer cans. Oh boy. "Sir, there's been a major infraction— drinking alcoholic beverages on the property."

Chuck really wanted to hit Tang with a newly repaired computer, but he wasn't a violent man...that and he didn't want to re-break the computer. "Nothing wrong with a man wetting his whistle every once in awhile." Chuck's eyes widened. "Keep it out of the store, Bartowski."

Chuck straightened up, both happy and surprised. "Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely, sir."

"You get extra points for style. Looking sharp."

Chuck grinned as Big Mike walked away.

Tang was pissed. He turned to Chuck. "You look like a waiter." He dumped the cans on the ground. "Kiss-ass."

Chuck watched him storm off, and chuckled. It was time to clock in, and luckily he had a uniform in the store. He cleaned up the mess Tang had made, headed out of the cage toward the lockers, and passed Morgan who was telling his story of bravery and heroism from being locked in the cage all night.

It was gonna be a long day, but at least he had done something right. That's when he felt, rather than heard the large man behind him. How did he move so silently?

"Chuck. Good work last night."

Chuck had been made a fool of in front of a former classmate, danced the female's part of the tango, nearly been thrown through a window, had a fireside chat with Ellie, saved Morgan's life from the cage….or at least a trip to the insane asylum for his little buddy...and now Captain Grunts-a-lot was making fun of him….again. He had had enough. "Okay, you know what?" He kept walking for many reasons: one, he needed to get to his locker, two, if he stopped he might fall over, and three, and most importantly, if Casey made a move toward him, maybe with Chuck already in forward motion he had a shot of getting away...Not likely, but maybe. "I'm, I'm working on an all-nighter here, big guy. And I realize that you are probably armed. And so I'm gonna ask you very nicely, would you please ease up on the sarcasm?"

"I wasn't being facetious." Chuck turned to face him. "You helped us find La Ciudad."

Chuck didn't see it that way. It was another loss in his book, and there were a lot of losses in there. "But she got away."

"Yeah, we got a photo from hotel security. We got a blood sample from a broken window. Our intel tell us she's heading down to Central America. We have people waiting there." Chuck began to grin. Casey eyed him for a minute. "You're lookin' sharp."

This was nice. Something went right. He spoke in a happy voice. "Yeah, thanks."

Chuck took a drink of coffee. "That was facetious." Casey began to walk off. At least he didn't call him an idiot. "Idiot." Annnnnnd there it was.

Chuck changed into his Nerd Herd outfit and waited on a customer that had brought in a repair the day before. He had placed it at the front desk and he had the customer follow him there to find it. "I fixed this one personally. So it should be good as new. And sorry about the delay." That's when the two very large men that tried to throw Chuck out the window the night before walked in the door. Chuck did the only thing he could think off….he dove behind the desk. He waited there, hoping Casey would find them, or Sarah, the US Army... He just wanted the bad men to go away, and then worst happened. Harry Tang showed up.

"Chuck, hiding from work again?"

"I, uh, I-I think I dropped something. Go away, Harry!"

"Oh, you wish I would. I'm not going anywhere, Chuck. When you go to sleep at night, all you're gonna see is Tang in your face." That was the most disturbing thing Chuck had heard in his entire life, and that included what Morgan did with Ellie's pillow after prom.

Well, he thought it was until he heard a voice that nearly made him wet himself...if he was honest he may have wet himself. "Excuse me, please. Where can I find a Chuck Bartowski?" Chuck crawled away quickly, he had to come up with a plan soon, or they were going to kill him...or worse…he wasn't sure what worse was but he was in no mood to find out.

}o{

"I'm going on lunch."

Scooter spun around from where he was frying some corndogs. "You just had a break fifteen minutes ago."

"Mmmm noooo I don't think I did. See ya in forty-five."

"H-Hey! Yes! Yes, you did! I'm not crazy, Sarah! I know you're trying to make me think I'm crazy, but it isn't working!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Scooter. You're crazy."

"You—Where are you—?"

But she'd already walked out of the door, and she ducked into the coffee shop next door to get a coffee and a few muffins. She figured Chuck might want one. Or maybe he'd be able to get off for his own lunch break and they could eat together.

She strolled across the parking lot towards the Buy More, spotting a postal worker striding determinedly in the direction of the Wienerlicious with a package under her arm. Sarah tried to make eye contact to smile politely as she got closer, but the woman looked away pointedly, and when she turned her head, Sarah saw the scar on her neck.

Wait…

Her feet stopped almost of their own accord as the alarm bells went off in her head. She'd seen the photograph of La Ciudad this morning. Casey had sent it to her. It wasn't the best photograph, not as clear as they'd like it to be. But he scar on her neck had been a big talking point.

She kept walking then, not risking turning to look back at the woman just yet, but ninety percent sure she'd just crossed paths with La Ciudad. The moment she got to a food delivery truck, she ducked behind it, abandoning the food and coffee on the ground and pulling her watch up to her lips. "Think we've got some company."

Almost immediately, Casey's voice came through with an, "I'm on it."

Shit, that meant La Ciudad's guys were at the Buy More. Sarah frowned deeply. She'd sent her goons to grab Chuck...so what was she up to?

The CIA agent spun and peeked around the truck to watch as La Ciudad climbed up the ladder onto the roof of the Wienerlicious with her box. What in the hell…?

The second she was out of sight, Sarah silently sprinted back to the Wienerlicious and leapt up onto the ladder, climbing up as quickly and as silently as she could. She had a pretty good idea of what La Ciudad had in that long, thin box, especially with the way she was getting on a roof, and with the way it gave her a clear view to the Buy More entrance.

Hell. No.

She crawled up onto the roof and swung herself down to land in a crouch. She spotted the woman on the other side of the roof, her fears confirmed as she saw her move to the edge with a sniper rifle in hand, beginning to set it up to take her shot.

Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, she snuck closer, her fists raised, ready to beat the ever-loving shit out of the arms dealer. But if she could just get the drop on her, find the right pressure point, she could knock her out easy, no mess.

She slowed significantly as she crept closer, and she saw something twitch in the other woman's shoulders. She knew immediately she'd been heard, and she braced herself for what was coming just in time as La Ciudad spun to point the rifle at her. She knocked it out of her hands, sending it clattering to the ground. And she made the mistake of watching it to make sure it skidded far enough away, because then she felt a boot swipe across her mouth and she went down on one knee, wincing at the pain, tasting blood immediately.

This bitch really had no idea…

She looked up at the smirk on La Ciudad's face and wiped the blood from her busted lip. "Back for more, La Ciudad?" she drawled with a bit of a cocky lilt to her voice.

"I'm not here to play games."

She swung her leg at her again and Sarah caught it, twisting and throwing the arms dealer onto the ground as hard as she could. She could tell by the look on the woman's face that it had hurt. Good.

But then her hold on her leg was broken and and another boot came up towards her face. She just barely ducked it, staggering back a safe distance away and giving La Ciudad time to get to her feet. "I'll kill you first, then. What are you? FBI? NSA? CIA?"

"I'm the last person you're gonna see before you wake up in an underground high-security cell where you're staying for the rest of your life." She raised her fists and beckoned the other woman closer. When she sprang, Sarah moved her head to the side just enough to miss the punch and she brought her elbow around into La Ciudad's jaw. She calmly stepped around to face her again from the other side as the woman clutched at her face with a pained grunt. "I'm not playing games, either."

La Ciudad cursed and came at Sarah with a flurry of punches, all of them just barely blocked. She was fast, Sarah found. Faster than she'd expected. And she ended up having to block a little further to her left than she preferred which gave the arms dealer the perfect opening to crack her left fist across Sarah's face.

Sarah immediately came back with a high kick that the woman ducked and received a hard backhand to the same side of her face. It hurt like hell, but she kept her feet, even as yet another punch came in and knocked her back a bit.

She swung a bit blindly and missed again, but she was ready for the counter-punch, blocking it. The arms dealer's arm swung towards her again and she caught it, snagging the other wrist and twisting, trying to throw La Ciudad back onto the ground, or maybe she could get a better grip and just break the bitch's wrist altogether…

But La Ciudad held strong, wrestling with her, giving as good as she got. Sarah felt the woman start to push her hands up, but she wouldn't let her get close, and she spun in a circle, wrenching La Ciudad's arms back down.

The woman kicked out with a boot and Sarah blocked it away with her own foot. She came in with the other foot and Sarah kicked that away, too, trying to spot any kind of opening, a way to reach her with her knee maybe. But La Ciudad tried to stomp on her foot. Knowing it would likely break her foot, she focused on getting out of the way, and that gave the other woman the chance to yank herself out of Sarah's grip.

A boot came up into her stomach and she staggered back, the air leaving her lungs. She did a millisecond's worth of a mental and physical status check and thought her ribs were fine, but shit, this was a lot harder than she'd thought it'd be.

She straightened up and met La Ciudad's gaze. She had to take her out fast. No more playing around.

So she swung her leg up, La Ciudad meeting it with a kick of her own. And the woman's leg came up again almost faster than Sarah was ready for. But she just managed to get her leg high enough to block it.

Getting cocky, La Ciudad did a full spin to bring her leg around even harder this time, but Sarah caught it cleanly. But she lost her grip as La Ciudad gave an unexpected yank, and the boot slammed into her face and spun her to land hard on the ground. Fuck…

That hurt.

But she saw the sole of a boot coming towards her then as La Ciudad tried to stomp on her again and she rolled out of the way just in time. She tried to crawl away, far enough away that she could get back to her feet, but another boot came down on her lower back and she just managed to catch herself before her face slammed into the metal poles sticking up from the satellite equipment on the roof.

La Ciudad's fists were around her pigtails then as she tried to finish the job, but Sarah grit her teeth and pushed back. She wasn't dying this way. And not on this day.

She reached behind her and grabbed the hand that was wrapped in her pigtails, pulling the arms dealer down close enough so that she could slam her elbow not once, but twice into La Ciudad's God damn face.

Agent Sarah Walker was fucking done with this.

She stood up and spun to face La Ciudad, grabbing the handcuffs she hid in the pocket of her uniform's skirt, swinging them around so that they fit her fist like a makeshift pair of brass knuckles. Watch her stay standing when she gets clocked with this…

But La Ciudad pulled a jagged, wicked-looking knife out of her boot then. Fine. If she was gonna play dirty, then fine.

She came at Sarah with a swing of the knife but Sarah ducked under it and stepped to the side, facing her again, watching for the other woman to project what she'd do next. She came at her with the knife straight on this time, but Sarah blocked it with the cuffs. Another swing, another block.

And as she came in with a third, Sarah brought her arm up against La Ciudad's, then caught it with her fingers around the other woman's wrist, spinning in and jamming her elbow into the arms dealer's stomach, slamming her fist back into her face right after with a quick one, two. And then she repeated the fist to the face, spinning to face La Ciudad as she fell back a few steps.

Sarah didn't let up for a second, using her grip that she still had on La Ciudad's arm to yank her down onto the ground. The woman knelt on one knee and looked up at her, eyes wide. She didn't give her a chance to do anything else.

Without hesitation, Sarah brought her cuff-lined fist down and cracked it into La Ciudad's temple, knocking her out cold. Finally.

Sarah worked fast, grabbing her wrist and rolling her over onto her back, taking quite a bit of satisfaction in the bruise already forming on La Ciudad's face. She cuffed her wrist to the satellite leg and smirked. "Hang here."

And as she walked past, she kicked a bit of extra dirt in La Ciudad's face. Just because.

A/N: Next time, because no one but us demanded it….Michael Bolton! (It was the 80s/90s. We experimented with music. We don't talk about it much...) -DC

I still don't get why Michael Bolton was ever a thing. I don't. -SC