A/N: Thanks for reading and the reviews. Here we go!
Disclaimer: We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making any money writing this. We are writing it for free. You are reading it for free.
"Don't worry, kid, a new Herder will be here in the morning. I'll have it delivered to your place before you wake up," Casey told Chuck as they got out of the SUV.
Sarah watched as Chuck nodded, not saying anything, his features not changing from the glum look he'd had since he climbed into the back of the car. This wasn't good. Usually he wouldn't stop talking and now he had gone silent. Sarah looked at Casey. "And yes, I know to make sure your keys fit it," Casey added. Chuck said nothing. Casey looked back over at Sarah and gave a head tilt.
Sarah got the hint. "Why don't I take you home, Chuck?" she offered.
"And be careful, I haven't had a chance to fix everything," Casey added. Chuck said nothing and headed to the car by himself. Lazslo's handler had already left in the SUV, leaving Sarah and Casey standing there alone. "Apparently neither has your handler," Casey muttered.
"I haven't really had a chance. Plus I know nothing more than I did the last time we talked," Sarah said softly.
"Walker, what the hell is the CIA playing at?"
Sarah searched his face for a second. She saw no ill-will, just concern for the mission. She didn't blame him, she didn't know what was going on, and it was frustrating the hell out of her. "I have no idea," she replied.
He grunted a laugh. "This oughta be all sorts of fun. Get the nerd home, tuck him in bed. I'll work on this tonight."
"I'll get back as quick as I can to help you," Sarah replied.
Casey looked around and saw Chuck standing beside Sarah's Porsche. "Nope. Someone's gotta watch the asset, especially if Lazslo comes back. Your choice if it's at my place or with the nerd." Sarah gave him a flat look. "After tonight he might need you to hold his hand."
"Casey, agents would have shit their pants with what he's been through," Sarah retorted, angrily.
He grinned at her. "Yeah, they would've. But someone has done a helluva keeping that boy calm." He paused. "I mean it. Helluva job, Walker."
"It's him, you know. He deserves the credit," she replied softly.
Casey nodded. "Yeah, he does. Why do you think I don't push for the bunker anymore?"
She grinned at him. John Casey might actually be finding a feeling….just one, but a feeling nonetheless. "You like him."
"Did you hit your damn head? Go fix the situation," Casey replied, but the normal disgust wasn't in his tone.
"I gotta figure the situation out first," she replied, heading off.
"Walker," he called out. She glanced over her shoulder. "Let me know if I can help with that. Who knows? Maybe you can come work for the good guys?"
She grinned at him and turned her head back around. "Already work with two," she replied. She heard Casey grunt.
She walked up to the car, and Chuck got in, on autopilot. How was she going to handle this? She was worried. The day was coming when she was going to have to spend the night at his place, and tonight would work cover-wise. A girlfriend, supporting her guy who had a big interview the next day...but she dreaded it. Even though they had their talk and Chuck was doing all he could to shove any and all feelings aside, there was something there still on his side….and if she was honest, hers as well. And right now he was hurt. He thought she had betrayed him, and now he felt like he betrayed her she knew, and that wasn't going to stand.
"I'm staying at Casey's tonight to keep an eye, just in case….Unless you feel unsafe with Lazslo still out there and want me to stay with you." Pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno.
"Probably best at Casey's," Chuck mumbled. "Too much going on right now to also have to explain you being at my place."
That was a bullshit answer and she knew it, but the hell if she was gonna call him on it, because right now, she felt the exact same way. She knew they should talk, and they would, just as soon as she figured out what in the hell was going on. They got to Echo Park and she walked Chuck to his door. She inspected the courtyard for a moment to make sure no one was watching and went to Casey's. She couldn't be seen coming in or out of Casey's—that would require some serious explaining.
She'd gotten a text from Casey saying that her car was being moved and it would be back in the morning. She wasn't thrilled about someone touching her car, but she didn't really have much of a choice.
She dialed the substation, gave her clearance, and calmed herself. "I need to know about the picture I ordered a few days ago."
"Did you like it?" the tech asked. "It's what I would have wanted if I had a girlfriend. I mean, if I went to the con with my girlfriend."
Nice attempt at a save, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. "It was great, but I had a bit of a problem with it. There was a bug in it."
"Oh, there's a note on your file for anything ordered for the asset's home to include a bug if possible."
"I see, and who placed that note on my file?"
"It's above my pay grade, Agent Walker," the tech replied.
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. Damn it. Graham. "And do we know where the bug sends to the receiver?"
"Yes, actually. There's a loose brick in the fountain that hides that particular receiver. The tape is refreshed every four days."
Sarah did the math in her head. No one had gotten it yet. "Thank you," she said, and hung up. She opened the door, glanced around, and snuck over to the fountain. She examined it for a minute, found the spot where she would have hidden it, removed the brick and saw her prize. She opened up the recorder, and took the tape out. She returned the brick, and took both the machine and the tape back into Casey's. She threw the tape on the floor and smashed it with her heel. Satisfied it was in enough small pieces, she gather up the remains and threw them in the fireplace.
She pulled her phone back out.
"Casey, I did some digging on that bug. It came from above my pay grade."
Casey grunted. "What about the receiver?
"Found it, removed the tape and destroyed it. I'm holding the receiver," Sarah replied.
"That's a dangerous game, Walker."
"I'm aware," Sarah replied. "Think your people could figure out a way to detect for any more of these receivers?"
"I'm sure they could," Casey replied. He paused. "How's he?"
"Asleep, I hope. I'll talk to him in the morning, unless something comes up and you need me."
"Oh, hell no. I'm just sorry I won't have any way to hear what you two say to each other," Casey replied. What the hell? Casey hated listening to Chuck's talks on recordings….Oh...there wouldn't be any bugs.
"Thanks, Casey."
"Just looking out for my partner," Casey replied, and hung up. Sarah laid on the couch. She didn't know if she would sleep. She needed to, but she had to figure out what to say to Chuck, and the truth probably wasn't the best….was it?
}o{
An agent knocking on Casey's door with a fresh change of clothes and coffee for her woke her up. She shook her head. Casey was determined for this talk to happen. He was right. Chuck wasn't acting like himself, which could affect the Intersect. She walked over to the apartment and let herself in since she knew Ellie and Awesome had early morning shifts today. She put on her best smile, grabbed the handle of his bedroom door and opened it, stepping inside.
"Hey," She said, beaming at him. He looked good. "You look nice."
There was a look on his face...she knew it well. It was shame. "Thanks. I feel like crap. I screwed up." So he'd moved past the silent despondence and was at least talking, so there was that. He was fussing with his tie in the mirror. She realized it wasn't just shame. He was mad at himself and that wasn't fair. "I severely pooched the Lazslo situation last night."
Without really thinking about it, she crossed to his side, slid in close, and began fixing his tie for him. "Yeah, well…" God, why couldn't she just talk about this? Put him at ease? "Today, you have a job interview."
Frustration sprang on his face. He turned and walked away. "Do you think I care about making lower management at a Buy More? Are you kidding me?" He sat down on his bed. "I aided and abetted the escape of the next Ted Kaczynski, Sarah." She grabbed the footstool, slid it over to him, and sat down. He was in a spiral and when he finally hit bottom it was going to be a spectacular mess. She steeled herself. This talk had to happen. "I just... I can't believe that I was so wrong about that guy. No wonder you bugged my room. I'm an absolute idiot."
And there it was.
Lazslo's stunt had swung his reaction to finding the bug in her gift to him from anger and betrayal to feeling like he deserved to be bugged, deserved to be betrayed by the government he was practically giving his entire existence to. She wasn't going to let it stand. He didn't deserve to have his trust compromised like that, even if he did tend to trust the wrong people sometimes. "Okay, that's enough of that."
"No, it isn't." She widened her eyes a bit at his tone. Even though she knew it was directed at himself and not her. "I'm an asset with government secrets that need to be protected. That shouldn't just fall on you and on Casey, Sarah. These secrets are in my head. I need to take some responsibility, too. I need to be more careful, and I'm screwing up too often and too easily," Chuck replied, head hung low.
She reached over and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist. His head shot up, and he looked her in the eye. "Chuck...Chuck, I told you I wasn't involved in bugging your room, and I wasn't….well, I did but it-it wasn't intentional." His brow furrowed. She needed to get a hold of her words. He needed to really understand and trust her again. "Do you remember when I checked my room for bugs?" He nodded. She paused for a moment, not exactly weighing whether she should tell him this, but still pausing. Because this was different. Being open about things like this was just...different. Letting him in on this seedy, dark side of her job didn't exactly feel like it was the best idea...But for Chuck, somehow, it felt necessary. He did better with the truth, even if it was an unnerving truth. "I did it because I don't exactly trust the people I work with. In this line of business, you can't. I ordered that picture from the CIA, thinking it'd help with the cover and also thinking, you know, that you'd like it. The whole nerd theme. But they bugged the picture and I had no idea. You have to know I would have told you the truth, okay? If I planned on bugging your room, I'd tell you first."
Chuck looked like a weight had been taken off of his shoulders. "Thank you. I should have known you wouldn't bug me without telling me but...God, Sarah. All of this spy stuff is hard for me to figure out, really. And I felt…"
"Betrayed?" He nodded, almost shamefully. "I would have as well, especially after that talk you and I had. Trust me," she said, giving his wrist a little squeeze, "I understand. And I'm not upset with you. This time." She wrinkled her nose and got a smile out of him, a self-deprecating duck of his head that was more amused than anything.
"How do you live like that, not trusting anyone?" he asked, concern clearly written on his face.
She gave him a smile. "It hasn't been easy, but lately, I've had two partners I do trust, and that has helped, a lot."
"You trust Casey?"
Sarah snorted. "For all his bluster, you know exactly where John Casey stands." Chuck nodded. She looked over and saw the picture in the trash can and a part of her that she desperately wanted to ignore ached. She squeezed his wrist again and he looked at her. "You know, just because you trust people, it doesn't make you an idiot."
Chuck hung his head. "Yeah, well, I should've trusted you guys a little more. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."
She gave him a grin. "Again, I get it. I was furious when I found out." Her phone went off and she looked at it. She grinned at him and held it up. "Well, Casey got a signal on your car, and somehow the GPS got turned back on and Lazslo is heading east. So, I'll call you from the road. And don't worry, we're going to bring him in, Chuck." She stood and glanced at the door behind him. She had to meet Casey outside. They were bringing Lazslo in, and in doing so defusing the threat to Chuck.
But as Chuck stood before her, his shoulders still a little hunched, the line of worry creasing the plane between his eyebrows, she let that part of her she'd been ignoring take hold of her arms and wrap them around his shoulders. It was a short hug, but she felt his weight almost melt against her for just a moment. She felt the relief she'd been hoping for.
They broke apart and he gave her a heartened, closed-mouth smile.
"Are we good?" she asked him, crossing her arms, suddenly feeling a bit exposed, in spite of having a good reason to hug him—and trying to get him back to feeling more like himself, acting like himself. She was the one who felt...out of sorts now.
"We're good," he said with an emphatic nod. "Thanks, Sarah."
"Anytime, Chuck. Good luck today….Ass Man." He tried to look affronted as she giggled and walked out of the room. She promised herself she was getting him a real picture, and the CIA wouldn't have a damn thing to do with it.
}o{
He'd sat through job interviews before, and he knew he could knock this one out of the park. As the only genuine professional employee in the Buy More, the assistant manager position was his for the taking.
The fidgety ride to the Buy More wasn't because he was nervous about the interview.
Casey and Sarah were following Lazslo, chasing after him. They were going to bring him in, like Sarah said, he had no doubt. But he couldn't get his mind off of it. Somehow the GPS got turned back on…
Somehow…
Lazslo had known the controls of the Herder enough to take the wheel from him, literally and figuratively. He'd known how to get some B-2s in Guam to do an airstrike anywhere he wanted from the home theater room. Wouldn't he know if the car's GPS had turned back on?
But it didn't matter. Chuck wasn't a spy. The real spies were taking care of Lazslo now that he'd screwed up. They were cleaning up his mess.
That was when he spotted Morgan striding with purpose through the store with...his shirt tucked in. Since when did he…?
"Hey, Morgan! Buddy! Where were you this morning? I thought you wanted a ride in?"
Morgan turned to face him, a haughty look on his face. Oh, boy. He'd screwed this up, too, hadn't he? "Why you all dressed up?" Chuck asked his friend, but he thought he knew the answer already.
"Why are you all dressed up?"
He didn't...know? About the interview? Or was he—Right, he was being snarky. Ohhh, boy.
"I have a job interview today. You know that."
"Oh. Bully for you, Chuck," Morgan sassed, and he supposed he deserved it, even if it didn't feel great. "You think you're the only one at the Buy More who cares about looking professional?" He gave a mocking sniff. "Typical."
"I never—I never said anything…" But he didn't finish explaining, because Morgan was already walking away, holding a hand up like he didn't want to hear it. Right. Great. Another mess he was going to have to fix.
He took his wallet out of his back pocket, deciding to forget it for now, not let it weigh him down, and deal with it after his interview… But as he went to swipe his employee card to get behind the Nerd Herd desk, someone standing behind him barked, "BOO!"
Chuck screamed, dropped his wallet, and spun on his heel.
God, Harry Tang couldn't even pull off a shitty cowboy costume. The asshole.
"Did I scare ya, Chuck?" he growled, probably thinking he was Clint Eastwood or something. Asshole. "You better be scared…'Cause I'm about ready to kiiiill me a job interview…Partner. Kapow," he whispered, shooting him with finger guns.
Chuck just stared at him. "Mhm, really killed that Eastwood impression," he muttered as Tang left him alone again. "Asshole," he added, picking up his wallet.
His eye froze on the doodle he'd stuck in his wallet after the pancakes last night. He'd almost forgotten about it… It had reminded him of the skeletons from Prince of Persia. He straightened up and pulled the napkin with the doodle back out of the money slot where he'd stuffed it, looking at it again. Yep. Definitely Prince of Persia.
But then he felt that tingle at the back of his head. He flashed on the drawing, the image of Santa Monica Pier laying perfectly over the shape of the skeletons Lazslo had doodled. He saw a flash of Lazslo's file again, and he immediately realized why everything had seemed so...off.
Somehow the GPS got turned back on…
Lazslo turned it on. He'd tricked them.
He was going to the pier. The pier was in trouble, and… oh God no.
Chuck grabbed his phone and called Sarah immediately, already rushing towards the exit.
She answered before the first ring even finished. "Chuck—"
"Lazslo is not headed east. He's going to the Santa Monica Pier."
"Yeah, you don't say," she muttered drily. He could hear abject frustration in her tone. "We just found the GPS downtown. Lazslo ripped it out and stuck it on a big rig."
Shit. He should've said something when he was first suspicious. "Look, he was casing the arcade. It's where he was first recruited. There's a huge Halloween party there every year and I think he's gonna try to blow it up."
"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"
Chuck spun, hanging up and sticking his phone back in his pocket as he saw Big Mike pointing his pimp cane in his direction. It was...weirdly enough not the strangest moment in his life. "Um...you…" He wracked his brain. "Hey! Hey, uh...Can I—Can I borrow another Herder?"
"All the Herders are out. You've got an interview this afternoon, or did you forget?"
"No. No, I just...Something came up." As if that ever worked with a boss.
"Oh? Something more important than being an assistant manager?" Big Mike asked. "Is it more important than handing your promotion over to Tang?" The way he said that made Chuck wonder if Big Mike hated the asshole Harry Tang too. "Man, Chuck! Is it more important than Big Mike's relaxation?" That sealed it. Yep.
He wasn't making excuses this time. There were a lot of people out on that pier right now, and their lives were in danger. This place, this job...None of this was as important as saving those people. And he was tired of pretending.
"Look, Big Mike, there are just some things that are more important than the Buy More."
Chuck sprinted in the other direction. He had to find a way to get to that pier before the whole thing ended up at the bottom of the sea, a lot of innocent people going down with it.
As he burst out of the Buy More, he spun to look left and right. There were so many cars...so so so many cars. He couldn't use any of them. But then he saw the bicycle leaned up against the outer wall… He'd told Morgan before...he needed to stop just leaning it places. He needed to freaking lock that thing, actually use the bike racks…
But at the moment, he was so grateful for his best friend's laziness.
He grabbed the bike, nearly shoving someone to the side to get to it, jumped on and began peddling.
Chuck didn't know how long he rode on that bike, but it was long enough. He just kept going, finding himself nearly getting hit by at least four different cars in four different instances… He was on a mission, though. And he didn't know if Sarah and Casey were headed towards the pier or not, or if they'd get there first… But he needed to try.
By the time he skidded to a halt outside of the pier arcade, dropping Morgan's bike and staggering through the throngs of people, he was so tired his legs felt like jelly, his heart racing. He couldn't breathe properly. He couldn't breathe improperly. He simply couldn't…
But he had to.
He grabbed people in costumes, trying to find Lazslo.
He wouldn't blow up the arcade, it wasn't actually on the pier… It wouldn't do as much damage, or cause as many casualties. This guy was batshit crazy, he'd go for the jugular. He'd attack the structure itself. And there was no better way to do that than to swipe its legs right out from under it.
Chuck sprinted down onto the beach, angling for the underside of the pier.
And that was where he found the stolen Herder. He staggered up to it, noticing the hood was open, and he looked inside. He'd seen one bomb before, a month ago...that first night that had started as a date and ended with his life being flipped on its head.
The timer was stuck at a minute...or an hour. He hoped an hour. But it hadn't been triggered yet. It just sat there...but where was…?
"I meant to tell you earlier about your car's self-destruct function."
Chuck spun on his heels at the sound of Lazslo's voice, spotting him casually sitting, leaning against the pier's pilings, pilings he obviously had a mind to destroy, killing thousands in the process.
"One of my more inspired designs," the fugitive said, getting to his feet with a spry hop and closing the distance between them.
"Lazslo, listen…" He'd reason with him. He'd get him to stop this, give himself up. He could do that, right? They were similar. He wasn't a mass murdering crazy man, but they were similar in other ways…
"Relax, Chuck," Lazslo chirped, tossing the Herder keys through the air towards him. "It's all yours," he said as Chuck caught the keys.
There was an unnerving sound that came from the Herder as he caught them. He glanced at the timer and saw it had started to count down—Shit, it wasn't an hour. It was a minute. A button on the key fob was blinking. "What'd you do?" he asked, still breathless from the marathon bike ride.
"YOU just armed a bomb," Lazslo said, not seeming at all worried about that. Had he come out here today, sat under the pier, and just waited for Chuck to figure it all out and show up so that they could die here together? What kind of ruthless stereotypical villain shit was this?
"It'll take a good hour for you to figure out the fingerprint recognition system."
Chuck watched it hit the forty second mark. He was most likely going to die today. He turned to look at Lazslo. "Why're you doing this?" he demanded.
"What? Blowing stuff up?" He shrugged. "That's what bad guys do, Chuck. Besides...how else was I gonna punish them for what they did to me?"
"Killing innocent people? None of the people who put you in a bunker are here, Lazslo! None of them! You think it's gonna change anything if a thousand people die today? You think the people who put you in a bunker are going to stop putting people in bunkers or care that they put you in one? This accomplishes nothing. You're just a bad person, Lazslo. And you're a coward. You're weak and a coward."
Just as he finished, his phone rang. Lazslo wasn't about to tell him whether or not he could answer his phone this time. He whipped his phone open, looking pointedly at the stricken bomber as he did so. "Yeah?"
"Hey!" Casey snapped. "Someone just armed the Herder to self-destruct."
"Yeah," he said, feeling hopelessness start to rise in his chest, like a bubble wedged behind his ribcage, growing, filling with emptiness. "I know. It was me."
"Where are you?" Casey barked.
"The pilings." He hung up the phone and shoved it back in his pocket, spinning on Lazslo. "Disarm the bomb right now!"
"You disarm the bomb!" What, was this guy twelve years old? Seriously?
He didn't take the bait. "How?" he demanded.
"It's easy." Lazslo grabbed pliers and slapped them into Chuck's palm. "Cut the wire."
Oh, hell no. Chuck had seen so many movies like this. Nothing about this was easy. Wrong wire meant boom. But he wouldn't just stand by and do nothing. He spun to look down at the bomb, leaning closer, eyeing the wires. Red and green. Of course. Of fucking course.
"Which one?" he asked.
"Red one," Lazslo said a little too easily. He leaned down, poising to cut the red wires… But no because it was actually way too easy. Like a set-up. Like he'd been preparing for Chuck to do this. "YOU GOTTA CUT A WIRE, CHUCK!"
"WOULD YOU STOP?! WHAT IF I CUT BOTH OF 'EM?!" Chuck belted back, losing his chill really fast here. Twenty six...twenty five…
"Oh, like Sean Connery at the end of Goldfinger?"
Chuck froze at that, slowly turning his head to narrow his eyes at the bomber. "What'd you just say?"
"Cut the wire, Chuck. The red wire."
"You said you didn't know who Q was, that you'd never seen Goldfinger. So how would you know what Bond does at the end of that movie?" He knew the answer. This guy was a total asshole.
"Cut the wire or we're dead."
That was what he wanted, wasn't it? "You lied to me, Lazslo. Ten times over. You knew I'd believe you when you said you just wanted to live a normal, peaceful life. You knew I'd believe you about cutting the wire, too, but you were wrong, Lazslo."
"CHUCK!"
He saw Sarah and Casey slide into view, their guns pulled. He met Sarah's eye for a moment. "Wait! Wait, stay back. S'a bomb! There's a bomb…"
She looked ready to charge in, but Casey put his hand in front of her to stop her. He didn't have time to analyze that before Lazslo interrupted the mini-reunion with a crazed, "CUT THE RED WIRE, CHUCK!"
Oh fuck no. He knew exactly what to do. And without blinking, he turned back to the bomb, seeing ten seconds were left, and cut the green wire with seven on the clock. The countdown stalled with a quiet beep.
He did it. He let out a relieved half-laugh, as much as he could, with how tired he was, his lungs still not working entirely…
And then he straightened up, pliers still in hand as Casey and Sarah carefully closed in on Lazslo, their guns on him.
"You're under arrest," Casey said, holstering his gun and taking handcuffs out. Lazslo gave him one last look, a look Chuck couldn't really read, and then he was carted away by the NSA agent.
Sarah was there then, putting a hand on his bicep, squeezing, forcing him to look at her. There was awe in her face as she met his gaze, and then she slid her hand to his chest and looked him over quickly, as if to check he hadn't been hurt. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Y-Yeah. Uh...Yeah."
She studied him for a long moment, and then she went into her pocket and pulled her phone out, calling in the Herder, telling them that Lazslo Mahnovski was apprehended and in their custody. When she pocketed her phone not a minute later, she came back to him.
Almost as if on autopilot, he slapped the pliers into her palm. "Here. I turned off this car bomb. I also rode, like, a trillion miles on a bicycle that I stole from my best friend who's pissed at me. If we could get that bike back, wherever the hell I left it, that'd be good. But right now I think I might legitimately faint, so if we could just… And there I go."
He collapsed with exhaustion at her feet, and he required a good amount of assistance to get back to the SUV.
}o{
Chuck knew the interview was long past, he'd missed it hours ago. He'd had to endure an awkward, exhausted ride in the SUV after they waited for a team to arrive to pick Lazslo Mahnovski up and take him to what was now going to be an underground prison cell, which was a lot worse than a lab. And there would be no video games there.
But he still made Casey drop him off at the Buy More after they finished up at the pier, the bicycle strapped to the top of the government issued SUV. Maybe there was something he might be able to salvage. He'd at least try.
It was all he could do…
He walked in to find Jeff and Lester standing near the entrance, dressed as American Pastoral. Jesus Christ, these two…
Instead of saying anything snarky, they just lifted their hands with a simultaneous "Hey, Chuck", and walked away. That was his first clue that things were bad.
Oh shit, and there was Harry Tang. "Nice costume, Chuck!" The hubris was seeping out of him and Chuck knew why. He'd blown it. Not just for himself, but for everyone else at the store. And for Ellie. He'd really blown it. "What are you supposed to be?" Harry asked, sauntering over with a clipboard in hand. "Oh, that's right… My employee." He snickered.
Chuck was too tired to do anything but roll his eyes.
"Are you gonna congratulate me? You did hear I got the job."
"Uncontested. Yeah. Nice work, Harry," he said sarcastically, looking down at the half-assed cowboy.
"Anyhow...Now that you're here, I wanted to talk to you about some organizational ideas I had…" Chuck didn't care what the hell kind of anything Harry Tang had as he glanced around the store. He didn't hear anything else Harry said as he walked away, ignoring the weak man yelling after him.
And then Anna slid up next to him. "Hey, did Morgan ever find you? I thought the guy was gonna lose it."
Chuck winced and let out a tired sigh. "No, I-I know, he was really looking forward to the Buy More costume contest," he said distractedly, still walking as she rushed to keep up with him.
"I'm talking about what he did for you." That got him to stop. He turned around to face her, his brow furrowed. She looked annoyed with him, disappointed in him even. "He gave this whole big speech to the HR guy. He was trying to get him to give you the assistant manager job. He was in there for almost an hour trying to save this whole mess. Save all of us, but mostly you."
Chuck frowned. "Morgan did that for me?"
"Yeah. And then someone went and stole his bike. What kind of loser would steal a guy's bike?"
Him. Oh God. Shit. It was him. He'd stolen Morgan's bike. He was the worst best friend. He was the worst. He owed Morgan the biggest damn apology in the world. Without responding to Anna, he broke out into a sprint, somehow mustering the endurance from someplace miraculous to get back on the damn bike and start peddling for home.
Where he knew he'd find not only Morgan, but Ellie, too. He had a lot of apologies to make, explanations...and he had no idea what he was going to say…
}o{
Still wondering if he could somehow get away with telling his family he'd just saved thousands of people from exploding at the Santa Monica Pier by cutting the right wire, and that was why he'd failed them today on a massive scale, Chuck staggered into the courtyard where the Halloween party was in full swing.
Morgan wasn't in the courtyard, so he burst into his apartment, scanning the room for him. He spotted his little buddy sitting at the bar, alone on a stool, the back end of the sandworm hanging from suspenders on his shoulders, a glum look on his face.
When he glanced up and caught Chuck's eye, he pushed off of the stool and landed on his feet, meeting him in the middle of the living room. Maybe it was a weird sibling thing, but he could feel Ellie at his elbow, a few feet away. Then he saw in his peripheral as she subtly moved away, giving him the space she could probably see he needed with Morgan for a second. He knew she wanted to ask about the job.
She'd have to wait though as Morgan said, "I didn't think you were comin'. Everybody thinks I'm a slug, man. The costume doesn't work without the head."
"I'm sorry. I got held up," he responded, breathless. He owed Morgan way more of a sorry than that, though. "You came through for me today when I dropped the ball, buddy. You came through. Just like always."
"Nah, it-it didn't work. Harry got the job."
"That's on me. That's on me, Morgan. Okay? And I'm really sorry about that, but you are the real deal." He pushed his closed fist against Morgan's shoulder affectionately. "And, uh, listen, buddy, I think you should be the head this year."
The bearded one's eyes got big. And then he looked doubtful. "Really? I—"
"Hell, yeah."
It took them less than a minute to grab the head from Chuck's bedroom fit it onto Morgan, and get Chuck into the tail. And then they burst out into the hallway, earning cheers as they danced through the living room.
Chuck thought he heard his sister's good-natured groan and Devon's "AWESOME!" through the cheers, and he even saw Morgan trip a little on the edge of the table as they emerged through the apartment door into the courtyard.
But like the true hero he was, he righted himself and kept dancing. They made a few rounds through the courtyard, spurred on by the excitement of the partygoers, when he heard Ellie's voice.
"Chuck! Chuck, hey!" Oh, she was going for the head. "Honey...honey…"
"He's in the back!" Morgan called out. Chuck figured he'd make it easier on everybody and he lifted the tail off of his head, revealing himself, eyeing his sister.
"Uh, hey...hey, sis…"
"How did it go?" she asked, excitedly. As if she knew how it went. As if she knew he'd gotten the job. In spite of everything, Ellie Bartowski would always have more faith in him than he deserved. It was probably bias.
"The short version is that I...didn't get the job." He watched disbelief come over her features, and then confusion.
"What?"
"I...kinda...um, skipped out on the interview."
Ellie was gobsmacked, upset… And she didn't seem to know what to say as she breathed out a, "Why?"
Chuck was trying to figure out what to say when he suddenly felt someone at his shoulder. And then…
"It was my fault."
He spun to his right at the sound of Sarah's voice. Morgan muttered a, "h'oohhh my Goddd", which perfectly voiced what immediately came to Chuck's mind.
Agent Sarah Walker was dressed as Leia from Star Wars, just like in the picture that had been doctored by the bug planting CIA people. But this wasn't some other woman's body her head was superimposed onto. It was Sarah, with the brown and gold bikini top, her toned, tan abdomen on full display, the skirt and the jingly thingies...Her hair braided like—and how was her hair the hottest thing somehow? What was—Her entire torso was practically naked and the fact that she got the braid so perfect had him seriously going.
"I, uh, I had a personal emergency. A crisis even. And uh, Chuck-Chuck really came through," she said, turning to look at him. God, that braid. Yes, she was currently saving his ass big time, but that damn braid. "He probably wouldn't admit it, but your brother is incredible." He felt his mouth twitch in a bit of a smile. "He's a hero." She looked right into his eyes when she said that.
He couldn't stop himself from showing her the absolute awe he felt, the disbelief. How she'd just showed up looking like this at the perfect time to seriously save his ass. He knew the look on his face was stupidly dreamy, but she was stupidly dreamy. So dreamy it was downright stupid.
Chuck couldn't just duck back into the sandworm after this. "Would you excuse us?" he asked them, and he gestured for Morgan to head back into the worm. They ducked back inside and looked at each other in the darkness. "Hey, uh...uh, buddy...you mind if we take maybe a five minute break?"
"You kiddin' me? Take ten if you need it."
The meaning wasn't lost on Chuck, and that really wasn't where he wanted his mind to be right now. Not with the superwoman act Sarah'd just put on, and definitely not with the braid she'd twisted into those long blond locks of hers.
Chuck gave Morgan a smile and got out of the worm, handing it to Morgan. "S-Sorry, sis. We'll, uh, we'll be right out, 'kay?"
He could tell she had a lot of questions, but she wasn't upset. She was just smiling at him, then at Sarah, then back at him. "Just...just a sec," he said to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"God, why are you so sweaty? Did you ride a bike here?"
"Uh, yep! Yes, actually!" He turned and gave Sarah a wide-eyed look, earning an amused smirk, and she reached out to take his hand, letting him lead her back into the apartment, through the hallway and towards his bedroom.
"Thanks for saving my ass," he breathed back at her and she smiled.
"The least I could do. Just glad I got here in time to save your ass."
"Uh, yeah, me too."
They both chuckled and he opened the door, letting her in first. He followed after her and shut the door behind him. "So, uh...um, where'd you get the costume?" he asked. And he noticed the way she'd left her purse on his bed, the side he tended not to sleep on.
That didn't matter. She was going into her purse to get something out. "Well, the CIA can make anything."
"Y-Yeah, and the-the braid. It's…" He swallowed, drying his hands on the front of his shirt and squirming a little. Maybe he shouldn't talk about the braid.
"Is it close enough to hers? There aren't a lot of shots of the back of her head on the Internet. It was hard to see the ones that were there, so I-I did my best. Is it okay?"
"God, yes." He nearly clamped his hands over his mouth. He hadn't meant for it to sound that way. Maybe she wouldn't read into it. But she seemed to be too focused on...the camera she'd just taken out of her purse.
He stopped next to her and stuck his hands in his pocket, eyeing the camera. "What are you, uh, what are you doing?" he asked, smirking a little, furrowing his brow.
"Uhh...smile!" She sidled up next to him and stretched her arm out with the camera lens facing them.
Chuck grinned a little, still confused. She looked very pleased with herself, though, as she nudged his shoulder with hers and murmured, "Smile".
He chuckled and faced the camera, smiling as ordered. And then he watched as she stepped away from him, turning the camera and looking at the result with a smaller smile he couldn't read.
"I, uh, I wanted to give you a new photo of us. And I figured this time that it...should be something...real." The halting way she said that, her eyes glancing off to the side instead of meeting his, made him think she maybe didn't do things like this often. Maybe he was just making assumptions and she did. He didn't really know, but he felt a warmth in his chest.
"Well, geez, Sarah...You managed to find that outfit but couldn't even muster up a Han vest? If we're trying to recreate the photoshopped picture, after all…" He let a slow, crooked smile grow on his face and she looked at him for a long moment before a grin broke over her own pretty features and she giggled.
"I wasn't necessarily trying to recreate it. I just wanted it to be us. No photoshopping. Just the real...us. You and me." She shrugged one shoulder and the braid shifted a little and he thought it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Was she...shy? Agent Walker...shy?
They met gazes and he wasn't sure what to say.
And then, "CHUCK!"
He turned on his heel as Morgan appeared at his window. It was then that he heard the chant of "SANDWORM! SANDWORM! SANDWORM!" in the courtyard.
"They're callin' for the worm, bruh," Morgan said, seeming to have his zest for life back. He looked fired up, even. He wanted to… He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he wanted Sarah to be involved in it, whatever it was.
But then she pressed herself against his back and slid both of her hands around his bicep, a smile and amusement in her voice as she muttered, "I'll, uh, see you outside. And maybe do a little more Ellie interference," she added more quietly near his ear.
Chuck turned to watch as she pulled away from him, walking through his room. She glanced at him as she rounded his bed and he still felt that dreamy look on his face but he just couldn't help it as he heard Morgan clamber in the window and sit on the sill. Chuck blindly reached back to grab his chair and set it across from Morgan as Sarah glanced back one last time at the door to smile at them before heading out into the hallway, disappearing from sight.
"What're you guys, uh, what're you guys talkin' about?" Morgan asked, then, eyes still on the door.
"Oh, nothin'. She's, uh, pickin' up where you left off and going to bat for me." His gaze then fell on the lamp next to his bed and an evil thought came to mind.
"What was that crisis you helped her with?"
"I can't tell ya. That's...you know, that's her thing," he said, shaking his head. "Her private thing."
"No, no. I get ya. Girlfriend HIPAA."
"Actually! You'll be interested to hear this, I think, Morgan…" And Chuck was sure Casey would be excited about it, too. "Sarah thinks she's less of a Mary Jane and more of a Lois Lane."
"What? But that's not fair. She's jumping from Marvel to DC. And anyway, if we're going DC, she's obviously Vicki Vale. It's how I first labeled her. Remember?"
"Yeeeah, but she thinks I'm more of a Clark than a Bruce."
Morgan gasped, obviously affronted. "Is she even slightly familiar with these characters? You're way more of a Bruce—"
And as he continued, Chuck imagined a certain NSA agent's head exploding. It brought him some joy at the end of an incredibly long day.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time. Thanks! 'Til next we meet.
-SC and DC