A/N: DC here: Give me just a sec…*googles megalomania..* I mean that's fair...Oh, hey, you're here...You've all asked for something noncannon...this...this changes everything and next episode...it changes everything again. Because no one demanded it, and as much as SC doesn't understand how Michael Bolton was a thing...we give you Ch 16. SC...take it away.

(Oh, don't worry. I am. (smirk) - SC)

Disclaimer: We don't own anything. It sucks.

The text from Ellie hadn't been subtle at all when it came an hour after a secret government crew had swept in to clear away the debris. (That was what Casey had called La Ciudad and her musclebound goons. Debris.)

But he'd pulled his phone out of his pocket, apologizing to the customer he was in the middle of helping, and glanced down at the text. Invite Sarah over tonight for dinner. 7 o'clock.

Chuck knew beyond all doubt that Ellie was trying to help him get back in with this woman she apparently liked enough in spite of only meeting her a few times now. It was sweet but it also made him feel like he had a bruise in his chest that was smarting. She'd probably make this amazing dinner and they'd have a real do over of that night when he'd nearly ruined everything.

He'd called Sarah immediately, admittedly worried when she hadn't shown up again. She and Casey both had just...disappeared. All he knew was that Casey'd spoken to her with his cool watch thingy, that she'd gotten La Ciudad, and then Casey left to help the "clean-up crew".

He imagined Sarah had gone as well.

Should he even call her, he'd wondered? Would she be busy?

But she'd answered. And the line had been quiet after he'd asked if she was okay. And then finally, he'd gotten a quick, "Yes." And, "What is it? Are you okay? Are there more of them?"

"No, no. No, I think you guys got 'em all. I'm okay. I, um, I probably shouldn't have called right now but I wanted to give you a head's up. Or I mean, I don't know if you and Casey will be doing...uh...I mean clean-up stuff all night…"

"Chuck, I have to get back in there...They're doing a briefing with us and I don't want Casey to get too much time talking alone with them." That had seemed odd to him, but he'd hurried on anyway.

"Right, sorry. Can you come for dinner tonight? My place? Ellie's cooking again."

"...Oh. Uh, okay. That's a good idea." For the cover. She hadn't even had to say it. He'd shut his eyes with a sigh. "What time?"

"Seven okay?"

"Yeah. See ya then. You sure everything's okay?"

"Yep. Weird as always."

He'd heard her sniff in amusement, and then they'd hung up.

And now he was here, thirty minutes before seven, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, smelling some amazing something that Ellie was cooking for his not-real-girlfriend who she thought was real.

He'd let everything get under his skin again, and he was still smarting a bit. His life was out of control. And while he was grateful for Casey and Sarah, glad they were at least here to protect him, he felt like he was so far out of his depth that he was surely going to drown eventually, with or without his secret agent handlers.

Not only that, but he'd really been dropping the ball with Ellie. That conversation last night after the date hadn't gone well, and he'd probably hurt her feelings though she'd tried to play it off. He told her almost everything, and he always had, since they were kids. She'd worked to make herself available to him ever since he could remember, and he'd done the same for her.

But he'd really messed up, tiptoeing around the issue the other night, not talking to her.

And now Awesome was in the shower and he had Ellie in the kitchen all by herself. He had to smooth things over. Really and truly, he needed to talk to her about everything that was happening. Well, not everything. But the emotional hang-ups, the feeling of awe he had when he thought about Sarah Walker, about what she was capable of...coupled with his own crippling inadequacies. Morgan's response to his concerns hadn't helped him at all. But he also knew that Morgan was the best friend he'd ever had, and for the most part, honest. He was fully aware of the fact that Morgan also looked up to him a bit and thought the sun shone out of his ass. Maybe it was Piranha, maybe it was the times he stuck up for him when they were kids, diverting the bullying onto himself. Maybe he just loved him that much. Either way, he needed Ellie's wisdom and warmth...and her full honesty. She said things he didn't want to hear but needed to hear. That's what he needed again. He couldn't keep hiding from her.

No, more than anything, he needed to get this off his chest. Sarah was so much more than every being in the universe deserved. That was the crux of the problem. On top of her being a CIA agent. But she was more than simply a CIA agent. She was a woman. An incredible woman. The secret agent slash spy stuff aside, Sarah Walker was a woman worth more than all of this, worth more than him definitely.

He strode down the hallway and walked into the kitchen, feeling worse when Ellie didn't look up at him, keeping her head down as she prepped dinner. And he knew she'd heard him enter.

Chuck didn't beat around the bush. He respected her too much.

"I'm really sorry, sis. I-I know that I've been kind of evasive. It's just that I-I didn't wanna lie to you—" She gave him a bit of a side eye and went back to her work. "And I chose not saying anything as being the lesser of two evils."

He guessed.

Though either way, that was a piss-poor excuse, wasn't it? He could tell by the look she gave him that it was.

"Why would you have to lie to me?" she asked, tossing the vegetables she'd just chopped on top of the salad she was making.

Crap. Crap, this was veering into the spy stuff, the computer in his head, and he didn't want it to. That wasn't what he was trying to do. "Ellie, it—I just need you to trust me and know that it has nothing to do with you."

"But you want me to butt out. I get it. It's none of my business." She grabbed the scraps from the cutting board and pulled away, crossing to the sink and dumping them, the hurt look on her face not at all hidden behind the look she tried to put there instead. She didn't understand and he didn't blame her for not understanding. This wasn't his playbook, it wasn't his modus operandi. He was being different, not himself. Crap.

"No!" he exclaimed. "Nonono, I'm not-I'm not saying that. I don't—I'm not saying that. I…"

He hated this. He hated it. And he was just going to lay it all out there. His insecurity and the real fear he had. Maybe it'd mess with this cover Sarah was trying to cultivate between them. But he couldn't keep acting like Chuck Bartowski dating an incredible, beautiful woman like Sarah Walker was at all normal or expected. As much as he knew his sister was biased, he'd seen that wide-eyed look on her face when she cornered him in his bedroom the first night she met his new flame. It was very much a how did you manage this? sort of look.

He turned and looked at his sister's face. And his shoulders slumped.

"I just don't want to create a false sense of excitement for a relationship that seems doomed." And he felt that in the pit of his soul. In more ways than his sister could ever know.

"Why is it doomed?" she asked, a look of pure what the hell on her face. She crossed back to the salad bowl and he slumped further, taking in his sister, knowing he'd already gone far enough down this path and he couldn't go back now.

"Because she's not into me."

There it was. And saying it out loud, knowing how true it was, the cover bullshit aside, felt like he'd just gotten kicked in the chest. Hard. He'd been into girls and then women who were far out of his league before. It was part of life. But this one felt way worse. Way, way worse. Because Bryce had to send him that fucking email. Because the CIA then sent the coolest, most fascinating, warmest, fittest, most gorgeous bad ass agent they had right to his doorstep and told him he had to pretend she was his girlfriend. And the pretending was so damn easy, because she was more of a woman than he could ever dream up in his vivid imagination. What was hard was not letting himself lose control of the pretending. He'd already lost his footing with her. She was too much to resist. It was too easy to want it to be real.

And now he was fully aware of just how drawn to her he was, just how much he relied on her—and not just in the way she'd come to his aid last night, bursting into the room and shooting at bad guys, risking her life to save his. But the way she laid a hand on his arm to ease his nerves, or the way she smiled at him sometimes. It was like she was essentially laying a warm blanket over him as he shivered from the cold. Or something else poetic like that. And after only a week, he was relying on her for way too much. He was a burden more than anything.

She was there when he needed her, because it was her job. She was coming tonight because it was her job to make sure Ellie and Awesome, Morgan, everyone else, thought she was his girlfriend. She was good at her job.

But he knew beyond all doubt that the things he felt towards her weren't anything she could ever possibly return. That was just crazy wishful thinking. He couldn't even get a second date from regular women—women who weren't secret agents or as flawlessly gorgeous as Agent Sarah Walker.

He expected nothing from her. He didn't deserve anything from her. He was sure no man did.

Ellie seemed to disagree. Still preparing the salad, and without even looking at him, she muttered a semi-distracted, "Uh, trust me. I have seen the way that girl looks at you and she is into you."

That made Chuck pause. Just for a moment. Had Ellie fallen hook line and sinker for the cover? Or was she actually...seeing something? That was crazy. Crazy talk. But...he couldn't help prompting his sister for more. "...Really?"

"It's none of my business," she said.

He inwardly chuckled at the way she'd played him. Because she had to know he wasn't letting it go now. Trickster.

"Okay, no. Okay, fine, what the hell?" He crossed to her. He needed more. He needed her wisdom, yes, but he could use one of her pep talks at this point. He really could. The way she usually tended to buoy his spirits. "What do you—What do you wanna ask me about Sarah?"

"Really?" Ellie asked dubiously. She continued fiddling with tossing the salad, looking like she wasn't all that interested in telling him anything at all at this point.

"You better hurry up. This offer will not last."

He nearly chuckled at the way she spun towards him, a beaming, excited smile on her face. "Okay." She took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye. "Do you like her?"

Cover answer or real answer? That was the real question. Which should he give her? And then he realized that both answered would be the same. The cover answer was the same as the real answer. So he just nodded. "Yeah."

She squeaked, pulling her hands up and folding them under her chin. He pointed at her with a, "Ah! No no…No unnecessary excitement."

Still beaming, she lowered her arms to her side and cleared her throat, making a valiant effort at stemming the excitement in her face, though not completely succeeding. He couldn't help but love her for it, though.

"Sorry," she said, composing herself. "Sorry."

"What else?" he asked, his arms crossed.

"That's it."

"That's it?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Chuck. That's it." She got all serious again, even putting a hand on her hip. "I don't need to know the intimate details, okay?" Oh God… "As long as you're happy, that's enough for me. And I don't—I don't wanna nag you about your future and your job. I don't want to be this sister that just pesters you into oblivion…"

And there it was. Proof that he'd gotten under her skin, made her self-reflect and pull back. He'd made her feel bad about pushing him, asking questions, like she was hovering or bossing him around. She had been...a little. But he'd needed it. If he could just tell her everything, it'd all be okay, but he couldn't. And that was why he'd been pulling away.

He interrupted her, trying to smooth things over, make her feel not as bad. "Nonono. You're-You're not a pest." He met her eyes solidly. "I promise you're not."

Ellie smiled just a little, at least, her eyes did. "I just know what an incredible guy Charles Bartowski is." He felt a smile growing on his face. This was what he'd been hoping for, deep down inside. Some validation. Some self-esteem. "And sometimes, I'm not so sure that he knows it."

That was really what it all came down to, wasn't it? But what did he have to base his self-esteem off of? Besides these moments when Ellie, Morgan, and Devon swept in to tell him he was okay, that he wasn't the putz he thought he was…

He had to try to trust Ellie, even if he knew it wouldn't make any real difference with Agent Walker, the CIA agent—with Agent Sarah Walker, the CIA agent and woman.

"How do you feel about a brother-sister hug situation right now?"

She made a face. "I'm open to it."

"Okay." He went in and they grinned, wrapping one another up in a tight hug. He chuckled and squeezed harder, just as the doorbell rang. "Oh. Okay, I'll go grab it."

He let go of his sister and hurried out of the kitchen towards the door. That'd be Sarah. And he suddenly felt a lot better about...things. He was going to take it for what it was.

}o{

Sarah walked into the Echo Park courtyard. Graham had been…..surprised with the mission outcome and that was bothersome. Was he surprised they had succeeded where no one else had? Was he surprised the Intersect worked that way? Or was he surprised Chuck could make the Intersect work? So many questions, but right now the biggest one was what was she doing here? She shook her head. She knew what she was doing here, but the problem was how much she enjoyed being here. She never remembered having...fun on a mission. Terrified, sure, that she was used to, but enjoying a mission.

She imagined he'd double over with laughter if he found out she'd explained why she'd approached the MI-6 agent by saying they thought he was Michael Bolton. It was such a half-assed attempt at covering their asses and it was hilarious looking back on it now. And then she imagined Chuck might tease her about not knowing any other music but still knowing Michael Bolton. He'd tease her in that Chuck way of his—with the sparkle in his eye—so different from the CAT Squad and how vicious and unrelenting the barbs were. That was less teasing and more...she didn't know what.

Anyway, she hadn't seen Chuck all day, as busy as she and Casey had been with clean-up, debriefing. It had miffed her a bit that they hadn't wanted Chuck in on the debrief, considering he'd been just as involved in the mission as she and Casey had been. Maybe she'd find a time tonight to tell him about Michael Bolton, or maybe she shouldn't… Because this wasn't the first time she'd thought or done something amusing and immediately wanted to share it with Chuck. Not exactly like she wanted his approval, but she just wanted to share one of those moments with him, or maybe it was the way he sounded and looked when he laughed. It was spirit lifting. And maybe she was a little selfish.

Maybe she shouldn't have come here tonight. She was suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. Like maybe she wanted to be alone, should be alone. Dropping herself into this familial situation with these warm people, having them pull her in like they seemed like they might… maybe she wasn't in the best place for that suddenly… She halted in the middle of the courtyard.

"Sarah?" She knew that voice, it was Morgan.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw him slowly walking towards her. "Hey, Morgan."

"You cutting in on guy time?"

Sarah gave him a long side eyed look. "Uh, I'm pretty sure Chuck invited me."

Morgan drew himself up a little….well, as much as such a short man could, but draw himself up he did. "Okay, well, I hope you enjoy watching us play video games."

Sarah knew this was her chance to get away. This was her chance to say something came up, that she thought he had made plans with Morgan and she wasn't going to be that kind of girlfriend.

She should run, but Morgan had challenged her, and she needed to impress him. That was exactly what she kept telling herself and not believing a word of it as he rang the doorbell. Chuck opened the door and Morgan looked over at Sarah and then back to Chuck. Sarah smirked at the side of Morgan's head, then switched it over to Chuck.

She was impressed with Morgan's attempt to sound innocent. "Sorry. I thought we had plans tonight, you know? What is she doing here?"

Chuck glanced at Sarah, confused. "What, uh, what gave you that impression?"

"Uh, when you were leaving earlier and you were like, see you later, dude." Sarah watched him reenact the wave. Deep down, she was glad. She was glad Chuck had someone like that in his life. He needed it. After all the CIA, NSA, and everything else took away from him, he had Morgan. A lot of people would say that wasn't a fair trade. She wasn't so sure. A friend who had your back in everything…. "Took you at your word. It's cool if you don't want me to be here; that's fine. Just gotta stop giving me mixed signals."

Chuck glanced at her and she smiled at him. Yes, Chuck, invite him in. "Come on in."

"Super. Awesome. What are we having?"

He made her chuckle and as he ran in like he was scared the invitation might be rescinded, she walked up to Chuck, handing him the bottle of wine. "Here you go."

He took it from her. "Oh, thank you. Thank you." He glanced away, probably at his sister, and he leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Part of her loved that, part of her…she pushed that down the best she could. "Ouch." He pointed to his lip, concern on his face. "You okay?

She grinned. She wanted to say you should have seen her opponent, but she didn't need Ellie thinking she fought in an underground fight club. "Uh, occupational hazard." Chuck nodded, concern still on his face. She thought it was adorable and she really couldn't help herself with what she did next. "She got in a lucky kick." She gave a slight shoulder bounce, a smirk, and walked in. She caught the slow grin that grew on his face. God, why couldn't other guys be like him? Not only did he have no problem with her being good at what she did, he liked it. She knew somewhere, someday, someone was going to be lucky enough to have Chuck Bartowski care about them, and they'd be free to care for him in return. Right now she felt a little jealous of that mystery person, but she had a job to do, so for the time being she pretended she was that someone, and it really wasn't that hard to pretend.

}o{

The dinner wrapped up, and as usual, Chuck offered to walk her out to her car. She hated having to leave, but if she stayed any later, someone would suggest she spend the night and Chuck didn't need that kind of pressure. Most nights it would be hard enough for him, but after what he had been through the past few days...no, that was a bad idea. As she left, and he followed her out, she felt he needed to know how he had done, and she really wanted to be the one to tell him, which was good, because no one else assigned to this mission was going to.

She turned towards him as she walked. "Congratulations on your first mission. You did really good, Chuck."

"Stop it." He was being as self-deprecating as ever. "I'm not really a spy. Your computer ended up in the head of a guy who only knows how to fix 'em, nothing else."

Uh, no. Not today, Curls. Today you are going to hear what you did, and you are going to get the praise you deserve. "You survived a near-death experience under the threat of torture and apprehended one of the world's most elusive killers." She turned towards him so he could see exactly how serious she was. "I'm not sure what you think spies do exactly, but most of us would consider that a pretty good day."

"Okay, sure, so today I helped take down a major international arms dealer, but tomorrow, tomorrow I still gotta go clock in at Buy More. I mean, what's the good of being a hero if nobody knows about it?"

WHAT'S THE GOOD?! She took a calming breath. "You know." God, that wasn't enough. He needed more. He deserved more, and she had to be the one, because there was no one else. This was part of her job. She kept repeating that in her head. "And so do I."

His face softened, a slight grin covered his face, and for a moment, she forgot he was her asset and she was a spy. They were just two people that did like each other, that respected each other, that, if she were honest, cared about each other. Their actions had shown that over the last week. He pulled his top lip between his teeth. He did a little shoulder move like he was trying to be nonchalant. "You know, if we were really dating, this would be the part where I'd be forced to kiss you good night."

The grin grew on her face. The cheeky nerd. Not bad, Chuck, not bad at all. Two could play at this game. Saying something like that in front of the fountain, in the courtyard, in the moonlight. "Forced?" She decided to up the game and took a step toward him. "Would it be so bad?"

He looked like a deer caught in headlights, but like always, he recovered quickly. "I'm sure I could suffer through it."

Oh, the grin, the smarmy grin, and he took a step toward her, leaving very little room between them. The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Me, too." He bent down slowly, giving her a chance to run, a chance to stop this, but she couldn't. She knew she shouldn't. She ABSOLUTELY knew she should NOT do this. She put her hand on his chest, lightly, his eyes met hers and she flicked her own towards the door. She mouthed the word, "Morgan," and what was almost fireworks was a soft peck on the lips. His face was troubled.

"I had a great night, thanks, we'll talk tomorrow." She raised her eyebrows. He nodded, still looking upset. She gently curled her fingers around his wrist making him look at her. "I had a great time," she made sure the smile on her face showed that. His face slowly changed to a grin.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Talk tomorrow?" Her eyes told him it wasn't a question, and he nodded. She started to walk away mentally berating herself for letting that almost happen but as she walked away, she overhead Morgan say the worst possible thing.

"Man, that dude is creepy." Sarah turned and looked where they couldn't see her and there was John peering out from between his shades, pointing at his eyes and then pointing at Chuck. Shit! He saw what had happened.

"Agreed," Chuck replied. He looked in Sarah's direction but she didn't think Chuck saw her. She hurried to her car. She had to do something, quick, because this rollercoaster was doing things to her it wasn't supposed to.

}o{

Chuck had just filled out his time card, shrugging his Buy More jacket on over his Nerd Herd uniform, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He figured it was Ellie, asking him to pick up dinner maybe, or asking him what he wanted for dinner. He couldn't remember if she had a shift tonight or not, come to think about it.

But when he took his phone out, he saw the text wasn't from his sister, but from his cover girlfriend. He frowned immediately as the night before's scene swept back into his brain like a horrific nightmare.

It hadn't been horrific at all, though. It was exactly what he should have expected. The fact that he'd even expected anything else was ridiculous, and he was still kicking himself about it now, all these hours later, after a fitful sleep and a rough morning. His afternoon had gotten a bit better, finding enough distraction in his work, willing himself to simply stop thinking about Sarah's kindly gentle rejection.

He was grateful to her for not recoiling or running. She just put a gentle hand on his chest and kept him from kissing her the way he wanted to, the way he'd stupidly thought she might want to, as well. They'd been teasing, flirting even, but what right did he have to expect a kiss—a real kiss?

"Idiot," he muttered, pulling up Sarah's text.

Meet me at my car in the lot when you clock out. It's two rows from the WL side entrance.

He didn't much want to face her after last night. He wanted to get in a Herder and take it home, then tell her later he was really sorry but he hadn't seen her text until he got home. It had been a long day, he was tired, and he hadn't even thought about his phone…

Chuck was ashamed. He was ashamed he'd gone in for the kiss in the first place. He'd gotten caught up in how much fun the dinner had ended up being, how loose Sarah had felt sitting next to him, and how she'd eagerly told him about the MI-6 agent the night before, trying to play off her following him as thinking he was Michael Bolton. God, he'd laughed so hard and he'd spotted Ellie throwing a furtive and happy glance over at them as they sat on the couch, "enjoying" the first semi-alone time they had together all day. He'd gotten so comfortable with the cover and he'd flirted, and yes, she had flirted back… He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. That was stupid.

And part of him had thought he could play it off as just working on their cover because he knew Morgan was there. But Sarah was too smart. They'd both thought they were alone. He wasn't going to do her the disservice of trying to pretend. They both had known he had tried to kiss her. Not her, Sarah Walker who worked at the Wienerlicious and was dating Chuck Bartowski, the Nerd Herd supervisor. But her, Agent Sarah Walker, not his girlfriend by any means and instead a bad ass spy who was with the CIA.

He didn't bother texting her back. Instead he strode out of the Buy More, ignoring everything and everyone around him, and he walked across the parking lot towards the Wienerlicious. Sarah was already out there, leaning against the driver's side door of her Porsche.

God, she drove a Porsche. He'd tried to kiss a woman who drove a damn Porsche around the greater Los Angeles area, and he was such a dumbass. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier as she spotted him behind her sunglasses and lifted a hand to wave a bit. Her grin felt very cover-y, but he swallowed his pride and grinned back just as big.

"Hi," he said as he neared her. She glanced over her shoulder and he followed her gaze, seeing Scooter walk out of the Wienerlicious to wipe down the outdoor seating area's tables. When his eyes lifted to peer out at them, Chuck felt Sarah's hands coil in his jacket lapels and she tugged him in for a warm hug.

He looked away from Scooter altogether, letting his eyes shut as he felt her squeeze for just a moment. And then she pulled back and gave his chest an affectionate pat. "Hi. Um...done with work?"

"All done. I'd ask if you needed a ride, but you're currently leaning against a way cooler mode of transportation than a Herder could ever freakin' be." He snorted.

She smirked and shook her head. "Actually, I was going to give you the ride. If you can."

Chuck's eyes popped. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah. Get in."

Sarah unlocked the car doors and he went around to the passengers side, opening the door and very carefully easing himself into the seat, having to fold his legs up and nearly curl them into his chest to shut the door again. Once they were both inside, away from any prying ears, he turned to look at her. "Everything okay? Did something happen? Ellie? Devon?..."

"What? No. No, no. Everything is okay. Everyone. Don't worry."

"Oh. Okay. Good."

He stayed silent as she began their journey, but after a few minutes, he was able to gauge where they were...or rather, where they weren't. And he realized belatedly that she wasn't taking him on the roads that would lead him home.

What exactly was she playing at, he wondered? But he didn't ask. He trusted her. He'd learned his lesson there.

Sarah took an exit to get off of the freeway, steering them towards downtown, and he thought he might have an inkling as to where they were going. Why, he didn't know. But Sarah seemed content with the silence permeating through the car, so he stuck with it, watching the sights out of his window.

And when she finally pulled into the lot at Maison23, it confirmed Chuck's theory. As she parked, Chuck finally cleared his throat. "Uh, i-is Casey meeting us here? Is there some sort of briefing or...?"

"No, this isn't about Casey. You and I need to talk. My room is the only place without cameras or bugs."

He went a little pale as she got out of the car, and it took him a moment to pull himself together before he also got out, following her inside through the side door. As they climbed into the elevator, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "What, uh, what exactly are we talking about? Better question: no cameras or bugs? Does that mean I'm being bugged? That there are cameras in my home?"

Sarah took a deep breath, her lips thin as she looked away. "There is some surveillance around your home, yes. We need to know who is coming and going at all times. Most of it is in the courtyard and out on the patio in back."

"But in my...bedroom? Oh my God, do they have a camera in my bathroom? Does the government do tha—?"

"Sh!" She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm tightly, not to hurt him, but just to get his attention. It worked. "Maybe lower your voice a bit, Chuck. And no, of course we don't have surveillance in your bathroom. We're trying to keep you safe, not peep on you."

"Oh." Relief spilled through him. "But my bedroom?"

"There…" She sighed and shrugged. "Look, I'm not in charge of that. The NSA is. Casey is."

"No wonder he hates me so much. Morgan and I have had some really long conversations about…" He saw he'd piqued her curiosity maybe, so he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Uh, nothing."

She smirked. "Just know that any surveillance set up isn't there to catch you at anything, isn't there to see you in your boxers or something like that…" But then how did she know he was a boxers guy? He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that thought. "It's there for your protection. What you have in your head is...is important. I'm not even sure just how important, if I'm being fully honest with you. But important enough that I'm here. Important enough that...that Bryce died for it."

He felt trepidation and she squeezed his arm. The elevator reached her floor and dinged, the door sweeping open. She gave him a bit of a long look, as if she was surveying him, and then she walked out, glancing down the hallway, first left, then right. "Okay, come on," she said, waving him after her.

They hurried to her room and it wasn't until they were on the other side of the green door that Chuck felt like he could lower his guard a bit. "So what is this talk—?"

Her finger was over his lips this time. "Give me a few minutes…But don't say a word, okay?"

Chuck gulped and nodded. For the next two minutes, he watched as she made a systematic sweep of the room, her fingers methodical and quick in their perusal, under ledges on furniture, lampshades, window panes, behind artwork hung on the walls, and then she disappeared into the bathroom.

It sent a chill through him. And he was reminded again by just how serious and dangerous his life was now, how intense this whole thing was. How intense Sarah was.

She came back out and nodded. "Okay, we're good."

"You, um, you usually get people bugging you?"

"Not in this operation. At least, not yet. But it's important that I check. Just in case."

"Who would do that?"

"Literally anybody."

"L-Like the CIA?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. He thought she probably checked the room every time she walked into it. Two or three minutes of checking for small bugs or cameras, perhaps justifiably paranoid that someone—even her own agency—is bugging her. For whatever reason. It was upsetting to think of someone having to live her life like that.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him and blinked. "What?"

"Before Bryce sent me that email, I never thought about stuff like this. I never realized people lived their lives in this way. Always worried someone might be listening in on their…" He cleared his throat. "What, uh, what'd you bring me here for, Sarah? I know you said to talk, but what...what about?"

She seemed to shake herself a bit, focusing, and she huffed, crossing her arms at her chest. "Right. Um...I told you last night that we'd talk today. So it's today and…"

"Oh." He cleared his throat and nodded. "Listen. Sarah. I-I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have tried to kiss you out there. In the courtyard. That-That wasn't okay."

She watched him through her eyelashes, then lifted her chin a bit, shrugging a little. "Look. Chuck, first of all, you don't owe me an apology for that. I had a good time, with you, with Ellie, and Morgan, even though he's been a little...er…"

"Jealous?" he filled in for her. She winced. "Yeah, sorry. It's probably a good indication that our cover is doing it's job, though. He never got like that about other girls I went on dates with."

"Oh. Good. But my point is that I maybe enjoyed myself enough that I became a bit comfortable and I let things get, um, too far."

He sought to drive that idea out of her mind. "No, Sarah. You didn't—"

"I did, Chuck. Don't give me the benefit of the doubt," she interrupted. "It's very kind of you, but I don't need you taking the blame for everything all the time. This situation is incredibly new and difficult for you. And that's something I think the rest of us might be losing sight of." She shook her head. "I flirted with you and I shouldn't have, Chuck."

He felt the heat flare up from under his collar as he stared at her. "Oh. I-I mean, okay."

"I think nobody heard it, which is good. But Casey may or may not have been watching, and that's not good. If he thought something was going on here," she gestured between them, "outside of this cover act we're putting on...I-I mean, underneath it...I have no way of knowing who he might be talking to about it, or what he might do."

Chuck shook his head, taking a step back. He couldn't handle this thing again. "Wait, wait. Hold on. Please, not this again. Please don't tell me I can't trust him. He's a little too America-can-do-no-wrong patriotic and he says mean stuff to me, like, a lot, but I thought I could trust him to protect me."

"No, no. Chuck, that's not it. I'm not trying to make you distrust him. Or anybody. I'm not. I promise. You can trust Casey. He's an asshole, but he would take a bullet to protect you. Just as I would." Chuck immediately found that to be the worst possible thing he'd ever heard in his entire twenty six years of life. The idea of someone else willingly dying to protect him; the idea of Sarah doing that in particular, nearly made him feel sick with dizziness.

It must have shown on his face because Sarah's hand was wrapped around his bicep again. "Hey, what is it? You okay? Did—Did you flash on something?"

He shook his head, trying to get rid of this fog that had settled there, and he moved with her so that she could guide him to sit on the edge of her bed. "I'm fine. No flash. I'm good."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks." His gaze snapped up to hers again, as she leaned down to look into his face, checking on him. "You're hinting that Casey might tell your superiors—the, um, director and General Beckman."

"If he thought I might be a hindrance to your protection? Absolutely. I-I might do the same if I were in his shoes." She sighed and moved to sit on the bed next to him. "I have to be on my guard one hundred percent of the time, Chuck. I need to be warm in the appropriate moments, affectionate in the appropriate moments." She took a deep breath, then turned to look at him steadily. "I gave you an idea that I shouldn't have. And you weren't in the wrong when you tried to act on it. You need to know that. I'm not—I'm not upset with you. You didn't do anything wrong."

Chuck furrowed his brow and looked down at his lap, nodding slowly. "Okay."

"My number one priority is keeping you safe. No matter what, I have to be here while all of this is happening. Until this program can be taken out of your head, until you're out of danger and the intelligence community gets their talons out of you, out of your life, I have to be here. Because I don't think there's a single agent out there who can do what I can. What I will…"

She seemed to leave that last part hanging, whether on purpose or not, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. Most importantly, in spite of the determination in her face, a determination that was drawing him towards her like a moth to a flame (despite her warning), he thought he saw something else underneath. It wasn't worry or nerves, so much as she just looked...unsure. And he couldn't stop himself from asking…

"Sarah, what is it?"

The CIA agent lifted her gaze to his and raised an eyebrow, almost as if she was surprised he'd noticed something was amiss in her features. "Nothing."

Chuck just gave her a look. "Sarah, if I'm in trouble—more trouble than I'm already in—I need you to tell me. What's going on here? What you said about Casey telling your superiors, maybe getting you pulled from this...er, me… And the way they act like I'm a piece of priceless furniture or something, rather than a person with a life. How I still don't know what the fuck this thing is that's inside of my head. What's going on?"

She was silent for a long time. He guessed nearly two minutes went by and he let them, watching as a storm erupted in her gorgeous blue eyes. Finally, she ducked her head, shut her eyes, and opened them again with a deep breath, lifting her head and looked at him. Seriously looking at him.

"You have basically the same amount of information that I have, Chuck. Maybe more because you have that...I mean the secrets in your head." He felt himself starting to sweat, a chill going through him. "I'm not sure that I've been...fully read in on the situation. First of all, on what this is, how it's even possible. And second of all, why Bryce stole it and sent it to someone else who was...a regular civilian. Instead of some...I don't know, like Dr. Zarnow...he could sell it to North Korea or something." She swallowed and looked straight ahead, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her spine. "It isn't that I don't trust Director Graham or Beckman, Chuck. And I don't want you to stop trusting them, either. We're all here to keep you safe."

"You just aren't sure of their reasoning," he said quietly. "Which leads me to ask this question: If their reason for protecting me, whatever it might be, changes...could their need to protect me also change?"

He nearly shook as he spoke, but he just managed to hold it together. Sarah was being completely on the level with him, and he had a feeling she definitely wasn't supposed to be doing this. Hence the secretive way she stole him away from the Buy More after his shift and brought him here to her private residence. Without, he assumed, informing her partner. She was trusting him, like he was expected to trust her. And he wasn't letting her down again. He bit his cheek to remain calm.

"I don't think it will," she said, and he stared at her, looking for signs that she was lying to him. "That's the truth." She met his eyes steadily. "But this cover needs to be a cover. And when you and I meet like this, it needs to be for a really good reason, and we need to be careful. I don't think Graham or Beckman would do anything that might lead to you being hurt, but I'm also trying to keep you from being disappeared to a bunker. You'd be a lot safer there."

He nodded, wracked with an even worse chill. "No, I know. I'd be...a wreck. But safe from people like La Ciudad."

"I need to be at my very best, and...and I need to not let me guard down. I need to stay alert. I'm going to try to find out more without anybody know I'm doing it."

"You think Casey knows more than you do?"

"I don't know. I don't know if Beckman filled him in on more than what I got. He could know more and he was ordered to keep it to himself. He could know what this is. He was there when Bryce was killed…"

She didn't have to finish that thought. And she seemed upset for a moment, enough that she didn't much want to finish it. He put it together himself, though. "They killed him for it, so they had to know what it was they were killing him for." He blinked. "I'm not sure if that made sense."

Sarah sniffed in amusement. "It did." She seemed like she might say more, but then she looked at him and stayed quiet instead.

"I get it, Sarah. Don't worry. I'm not gonna try to force anything. I-I don't wanna end up in a bunker, and while I have to trust the others to keep me safe, I can't do anything to pull you away from your job—the actual reason why you're here. You're...maybe...the only person who can keep me here, with my people. My life has changed...probably irrecoverably, if we're being honest here…" She ducked her head, a frustrated look on her face. "But I still have it. And I'd like to keep it, no matter what shape it's in."

She nodded, and then she smiled at him. "Thank you, Chuck." And then she sighed. "And last night—"

"It won't happen again."

"No, it can't. But the cover needs to remain intact when we're around other people. Can you—Can you do that?"

"Yes." He could. He had to. A lot was riding on his ability to do this. "I won't make this difficult for you, Sarah."

"I'd like to do my part not to make it difficult for you, either, though. I'm sorry for last night."

"Sarah. Really. You don't have to…"

"I do." She stuck a hand out towards him. "But we're agreed on this. Right?"

He took her hand, fighting the empty pit in his stomach. She hadn't given him any idea as to the inner workings of her mind—of her emotions. Not even a hint of a clue. Had she flirted because she was sort of into him that night? And her job, her duty, had kicked in and she'd stopped him? It was seeming more and more like that hadn't been the case. Like any normal human being interacting with another, she'd gotten comfortable and loose from the fine dining and laughter and the red wine, and she'd gotten cute with him. He didn't blame her.

He wished there was a way he could tell her he didn't blame her. That he trusted her. But he was hurting now. And he thought he'd just let it go. He'd felt a rising hope in him at the way Ellie had glanced at him over the dinner table last night, after that talk they'd had. She'd eyed Sarah and sent him a meaningful eyebrow raise, as though saying, "See? I told you. She's into you." And he'd let himself fall for it, buy into her enthusiasm.

He shouldn't have let that happen. He'd gotten cute with Sarah, too. But because he...had feelings for her. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But he definitely did.

Chuck was going to let her do her job, because she was protecting his life, and his freedom on top of that, and he feared others weren't as worried about the latter.

"Thanks for laying it out for me," he said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Please, don't be afraid. I mean, I get being afraid. This is all really intense. I know. A week and a half into this, I don't expect you to not be afraid. If you weren't afraid, you wouldn't be taking this seriously enough." She shook her head. "But I didn't say all of this to freak you out, Chuck. To make you feel like you're alone, like I'm the only one you can trust. I said it so that you know what's at stake and why moments like last night...It'd just be incredibly foolish. As harmless as it might be for two regular people in a regular situation, my superiors would see it very differently."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Okay." She eyed him, surveying him again, and then she nodded once, resolutely. "Good."

Sarah put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed then. "If it's okay, I'm just gonna change and take my hair out of these stupid pigtails, and then I'll take you home."

"Sure. Take your time." He sent her a closed-mouth smile as she got up and started moving around her room. He waited for her to duck into her bathroom to change before he covered his face with his hands.

Damn it.

A/N: We're doing the thing. Stick around for more! Thanks for reading! Please review!

-SC and DC