A/N: Thanks for sticking around through the long break. It was me again. Multitasking is hard. Feel free to yell at me in my DMs or in your reviews. I'll survive. -SC
Disclaimer: We don't own CHUCK or its characters. We aren't making money.
Chuck looked down to find he was standing at the end of a long plank just wide enough for both of his feet to stay on. What the—? He followed the plank, past the fulcrum that balanced it in the middle, and spotted Bryce standing on the far end in a mirror of his own situation. What was Bryce doing here? And why did he have a bag of peanuts? Why were he and Bryce standing on opposite ends of a seesaw?
"I'm glad you're not dead, but…why do you keep fucking up my life?" he asked.
Bryce didn't answer, he just threw a peanut shell instead.
"Seriously, dude!"
Bryce wordlessly threw another peanut. Chuck began to step toward him and the board tilted. He stopped moving immediately to keep his balance with the sudden shift and eased back a little again. Bryce smirked at him.
"You aren't ready to handle Fulcrum, you aren't a spy," Bryce told him.
"No shit," Chuck replied. "Well, thank GOD you told me that. And yet I'm the one you sent this to," he said, pointing to his head.
"Because you'll keep the Intersect safe, and her safe."
"She doesn't need me to keep her safe," Chuck replied.
"Just keep her safe until I can get back to her," Bryce said. "It's like you said, I get all the best girls."
"Chuck," the voice came from beside him. He blinked and Bryce, the peanuts, and the seesaw all went away. He opened his eyes and rolled over, confused. Sarah was there beside him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Chuck replied.
"Good," Sarah said, reaching over and moving a curl. "It really worried me, finding you like that. You have to be more careful, Chuck." She moved her hand down to his cheek and stroked it lightly with the backs of her fingers. "You're important, Chuck. I need you to know that."
"Sarah..." Chuck began.
"Listen, we need to talk about that kiss," Sarah said softly.
"Really?" Chuck asked, hope in his mind.
"Mmmhmm," Sarah hummed. "You're important to me, Chuck."
"You're important to me too, Sarah," Chuck replied, leaning towards her. Her hand hit him in the chest, stopping him, an eyebrow raised.
"Chuck, you're the Intersect, I have to keep you safe so one day Bryce and I can be back together."
The bedroom door opened and Bryce walked in, holding the fulcrum from the seesaw. He tossed it to Chuck. "Ready, Babe?"
Sarah hopped up, went over to him, kissed him, and they left, hand in hand. Chuck gaped at the doorway, then stared down at the fulcrum in his hands.
His alarm went off, pulling him from the crazy dream. He immediately made sure there were no fulcrums around. "I hate me," he muttered.
}o{
This time, she went to the grocery store on her own, buying the seasonally appropriate flower arrangement without needing to ask her CIA contacts to get it for her. It felt...important, for some reason. It had been something like twenty years since she remembered having anything close to the type of Thanksgiving people had in movies. The big turkey in the middle of the table, the side dishes, everyone sitting together eating and laughing.
Even then, it was just her and her mom, a small store-cooked bird between them. The other Thanksgivings she remembered around that time weren't fit to celebrate, and instead she'd been in motel with her dad or something, or in the passenger seat of whatever smelly car he'd conned off of someone, on the road to who knew where, her hand hanging out of the open window, feeling the hot wind beat against her palm, not really knowing what she was missing.
As an agent in the CIA, she'd been put into situations that were a lot worse than anyone could ever imagine. And yet, she continued to second guess herself with something that probably sounded simple to just about anyone else: sitting around a dinner table with people she liked, eating food that was going to be amazing because Ellie Bartowski had cooked it, enjoying herself… She could do all of that.
So why was it so hard for her to get out of her car now that she was sitting at the curb outside of their apartment complex?
Maybe it was the fact that today was about pretending everything was normal. And usually that was so easy for her. It was a massive part of her job. But it was so much easier to do around people she didn't know or like. And the current situation was absolutely the perfect example of shit hitting the fan.
Bryce Larkin wasn't just alive, he'd used Chuck as a human shield hostage to escape from the compound they'd been keeping him in. And because of course that wasn't enough, there was somebody from something called "Fulcrum" running around out there, someone Bryce had apparently been afraid of. Agent Bryce Larkin wasn't the type of guy who had fears. At one point in her life, in her career, she'd found that attribute attractive. She'd been younger and not as mature when that was the case. Now she just thought a lack of fear was akin to stupidity. But it was unnerving to know someone out there had gotten to Bryce the way that guy apparently had, according to Chuck.
With Bryce and that Fulcrum thing out there, she had to sit across from Chuck Bartowski at the dinner table and eat food like her stomach wasn't being smashed by a massive brick of stress. She had to go in there as if she was just a girl who worked at the Wienerlicious, enjoying Thanksgiving dinner at her boyfriend's apartment—as if said boyfriend wasn't in an insane amount of danger from what felt like a multitude of angles.
And because she didn't trust Bryce further than she could...what did Chuck call it...Sparta kick him? ...Well, she found herself starting to wonder if her ex-partner had led this Fulcrum to Chuck, whether on purpose or not. She wasn't sure he was above it. And she didn't feel bad for thinking that after everything he'd done, even if he had initially been trying to protect Chuck at Stanford. That shit he pulled had been cruel in spite of his intentions.
She nearly jumped at the knock on her car window.
Looking up, she saw Morgan standing there waving at her excitedly. "Hey, you comin' in or should we bring the turkey out here to you?" he asked, muffled through the window, grinning in a friendly way.
Grinning back at him, pushing her nerves down and trying to focus on the task at hand, she grabbed the flowers she'd set on her passenger seat and let him move out of the way before she climbed out to tower over him. "Hi. Sorry. Ummm…"
Morgan had Anna in tow with him, and the woman had quite the sourpuss look on her face in spite of the polite smile she'd first sent her, and she supposed at least she had that part of the day to look forward to.
He smirked at Sarah. "Listen, you don't have to explain. We're a rambunctious group, the Bartowski-Grimeseses" he said, putting a hand on his chest modestly. "It's a lot to handle. You had to prep for it. I getcha. I mean, and then there's Ellie..." But he drifted off a bit, his eyes flicking to Anna as if realizing belatedly what he'd just done.
Morgan cleared his throat. "Should we go in?"
"No, please, Morgan," Anna said with a deadly sweetness. "Finish what you were saying."
"Uh, that's okay. Sarah? You first." He cleared his throat again and fidgeted, gesturing with his arm for her to head in before them.
Inwardly smirking, she thanked him and walked ahead of them through the courtyard. She heard Morgan mutter, "Can you please loosen your grip on my hand a bit, babe? I can't feel it."
And Anna's icy reply of, "Good."
Purposefully facing the door, her back to them, she let herself smile in amusement for a moment, then knocked.
In literally a moment, the door was whipped open, a stressed-looking, almost sheepish?...Chuck Bartowski standing there with a toothy grin. "Hey! Sarah! Oh, and here are Morgan and Anna. Great. Uh, come in, guys."
Sarah exchanged an amused look with him as she moved up to kiss his cheek in greeting, and Ellie was there, beaming. Sarah moved to hug her immediately. "These are for you. For, um, for hosting," she said as they pulled out of the hug, thrusting the flowers between their chests.
"That's so sweet, Sarah. Thanks. I'll have Devon put those in some water. He's in the kitchen."
Smiling with a nod, Sarah moved away, but not fast enough to miss the supremely awkward exchange of Chuck introducing Ellie to Anna. The way Anna pointedly introduced herself as Morgan's girlfriend through her teeth, poor Ellie's apparent confusion at the aggression.
God, she felt a little bad. Really, she did. But it was funny. These were such weird people.
As she moved towards the dining table, she saw Casey pop out from the kitchen in a nice suit which was almost a little sweet. She made a warm pouty face at him.
"What?" he grunted. "Why's everyone so surprised Ellie invited me to Thanksgiving?" He almost seemed offended. And wasn't he a wholesome picture, carrying potatoes with potholders out to the table? Wasn't all of this almost...wholesome?
Well, as wholesome as it could be, considering what a motley crew this was. A CIA agent, an NSA agent, a man with all of the government's secrets programmed into his brain, two surgeons, a Buy More salesman, and his Nerd Herd girlfriend…
It sounded like the beginning of a really complicated, probably terrible joke.
She thought if she ever wrote an autobiography, that could be the title: A Really Complicated, Probably Terrible Joke.
"Anybody want some booze?" Devon asked, coming out of the kitchen with the turkey...speaking of wholesome. She raised her hand just as Chuck sidled up next to her, his hand also shooting up. "There are my people, right there!" the blonde laughed, nodding his head towards them.
"I'll, uh, I'll get it. Sarah?" Chuck turned to face her, eyes wide. "We can put those flowers in water, huh?"
"Yes. Perfect." She met his wide eyes with a bit of a knowing look and followed him.
"Hey, no necking in the kitchen, kids. Food's almost on the table. Mangia mangia!" Devon called after them.
"Hah! Ha ha! Awesommmmmme. Yoooou," Chuck drawled, half pushing Sarah around into the kitchen with a forced grin at the other man's teasing. And the second they got into the kitchen, he dragged her to the fridge with him. "Want a beer?" he asked loudly. "Or, uh, wine? Sparkling wine?" And then much more quietly, he leaned in and said, "Thank God you're here."
"Why?" she asked, grabbing his arm. "Did something happen?"
"No. I mean, no no. Nothing like that. I'm-I'm just...I need everything to go right today. I just…" He huffed. "Every time everyone gets together like this, some...shit happens. It gets ruined. I've started almost...fearing get-togethers like this now. Like, what catastrophe is gonna happen to wreck my Thanksgiving?"
She put a hand on his chest and leaned in to pull the sparkling wine out of the fridge, handing him the beer she knew he wanted. He thanked her distractedly.
"Chuck, I get it. We don't have a great track record, but...please don't let everything that happened this week ruin this nice time with your friends and family. It's gonna go great. Well…" She winced, glancing out into the main room where Ellie was trying and failing to have a conversation with Anna. "As far as the spy stuff is concerned, at least. I'm not so sure Anna isn't going to attack Ellie like a viper at any moment."
"Morgan really screwed that up big time."
"He's kind of an idiot," she breathed.
"Um, I'd normally get super defensive but…" He popped the bottle of wine for her and poured it into a glass. "You're right."
She smirked at him. "Listen, just enjoy, okay? Let me and Casey fret about the other stuff for just today."
He opened his beer and skillfully tossed the cap behind him to land cleanly in the recycle bin someone had taken out for the party. Then he stuck his free hand in his jeans pocket, looking at her with one of his long, soft looks. "What if I was sort of hoping you'd be able to just enjoy today too?"
She met his eyes and smiled a little. When was the last time anyone wanted her to enjoy...anything?
Twisting her mouth to the side a little and nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't cheapen the moment, while also not encouraging him too much or showing just how much it meant to her that he'd said what he'd just said. And so sincerely.
"Hey, I said no necking!" Devon called out.
"Dinner's on the table," Ellie joined in, shoving the side of her boyfriend's head teasingly and giving him a look.
Chuck cleared his throat and left the kitchen, leaving Sarah to follow his retreat with her blue gaze, before she smiled and followed. Devon pulled her chair out for her with a "Sarah? Your seat, milady…"
Chuck sat across from her, Ellie to her left at the head where she was closest to the kitchen and Morgan at her right. Unfortunately, Anna was seated at the perfect angle across from Morgan so that she could glare between him and Ellie quite easily. Sarah inwardly winced.
"Uh, who would like to cut the turkey, huh?" Chuck blurted, his teeth showing as he grinned. She could see by the way his eyes kept flicking over at Anna that he'd seen the glare she was sending his sister. God, what did Morgan say about him and Ellie? The little liar…
Sarah cleared her throat. "I can. If nobody else wants to."
Devon did one of his exuberant "Oh ho ho ho!"s and pointed at her. "Sarah doin' the honors!" He handed her the giant fork and the knife and she went to town, going around the table, taking orders for light and dark meat, before finally giving herself a good mix of both. And just like that, everyone began to eat.
It felt a lot easier to get into the moment, push thoughts of Bryce and Fulcrum out of her head, and just enjoy the food, she decided as the minutes passed. And she felt a genuine sense of something she couldn't place as Ellie set her hand on her shoulder and asked her to pass the green beans. She felt welcomed here in a way she hadn't felt welcomed anywhere else, maybe. Without pretending, or playacting. Without affecting some other personality. She was sitting across from a man who was pretending to be her boyfriend, sure, and vice versa. But there wasn't anything false in the way she sat there laughing at the stories of Buy More employees, giggling at Chuck asking Devon and Ellie about crazy patients as long as it wasn't a HIPAA violation. It felt real, even if it wasn't. And she clung to this strange sensation of finally being a part of a legitimate Thanksgiving—just like the ones in movies. Sure, this wasn't her family, but it was a group of people who genuinely liked one another. It was...nice.
"I'm in Heaven," Devon said during a short pause in the conversation.
"This is so good," Sarah chimed in, turning towards Ellie and sipping her sparkling wine.
"So good," Chuck added, mouth full. Everyone else agreed as Ellie held her hand up and smiled her thanks.
"Glad you all like it." She turned and looked at Sarah then, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "So Sarah, do you usually do Thanksgiving like this? We're a little...different from the usual thing you see on TV. Big giant family with the matriarch at the head of the table, four generations, all that corny stuff." She winced and shrugged.
Sarah pulled her lips back between her teeth and shrugged back, thoughtfully. "Um. Thanksgiving was never, um, a huge thing for me. I mean, our...family."
"No way," Devon said from across the table. She turned to look at him and nodded. "Wow. What'd you do instead?"
"Oh, just…" God, what did they do? She should've just lied, said they had big family Thanksgivings, four generations like Ellie said.
"Well, Sarah's traveled a lot," Chuck interrupted, and when she turned wide eyes to him, he cleared his throat. She noticed Casey was giving him a bit of a curious look, too. "I-I mean, right? Sarah? A lot of traveling, you, uh, you told me. Which meant a lot of really unconventional holidays." He took a drink from his beer as she narrowed her eyes a little at him.
"What he said," she finally murmured. "I don't do a lot of holidays. Never really...have."
"Which is why I'm glad she's here with us now," Chuck said with a small smile at her. "We're maybe a little unconventional, too, our little ragtag group of friends and neighbors, huh?" He put his silverware down and set one hand on Ellie's shoulder, the other on Casey's beside him, giving Casey an extra little squeeze, she noticed.
"Yeah, thanks for inviting me, Ellie," Sarah said, beaming at the older woman. "This is the first legitimate holiday dinner I've had in a while."
"Awww, so happy you could come, Sarah." Ellie's hand settled on her bicep. "Hope it lives up to your expectations."
Sarah giggled. "Oh, exceeded. I came in with no expectations whatsoever."
"Smart woman," Casey grunted, pointing at her with his knife. Then he shifted. "Ellie, what did you use to season the outside of the bird?"
Sarah blinked at the NSA agent, then shifted her gaze to meet Chuck's. He'd stopped mid-chew. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
"Oh! It's a turkey rub I got from an old recipe book my, um, my mom left me." Ellie swallowed thickly, but Sarah noted how her features didn't change, the friendly, welcoming look still in her pretty features. "I can copy it down for you if you want it."
"That'd be great, thanks."
"Okay!" Morgan clapped his hands together and let out a quiet burp. "You know what I want for my second plate?" He was already on his second plate? She glanced at his plate and saw he'd literally cleaned it off already. "I need critical side dish number two!"
Was he even speaking English? She turned to watch as Ellie reached to pick up the sweet potato dish, as if she was able to translate whatever the hell that meant and knew exactly which "critical side dish" he meant by "number two". It made Sarah wonder how often Morgan had been a staple at their holidays. She knew he and Chuck had been friends since they were kids, but was this their small extended family? Ellie, Chuck, and Morgan? To the point where Ellie understand his dorky exuberant language?
Sarah grabbed the dish from Ellie and handed it to Morgan, and he immediately dug in, only to freeze and frown down at the sweet potatoes. "Hold on. Hold the phone. Is it just me, or are there no marshmallows on my sweet potatoes?" He tilted the dish for Sarah to look. "Sarah, do you see marshmallows? Am I just missing it?"
"Uh, no. No marshmallows."
"It's Morgan's favorite number two side dish," Anna piped up, leaning forward and eyeing Ellie as though she'd just announced that she'd killed a kitten. "Thanksgiving is ruined!"
Ellie met Sarah's wide eyes with wide eyes of her own, then glanced back at the couple. "Um, I'm sorry...I must have...forgot? That's my bad."
Morgan pouted and set the dish down, looking legitimately heartbroken.
"Wait, no. No. That's...That's my bad," Chuck said, swallowing the food he'd just been talking around. "You had me pick those up and I did it. I just...they must've fallen out of the bag or something. They're in the Herder. I'll get 'em right now. Thanksgiving rescued. Don't worry, buddy." He pulled his napkin off of his lap and set it on the table.
"Don't be too long," Ellie said, looking like this whole thing didn't seem all that necessary in the first place because they were just stupid marshmallows. But Sarah'd been around for a few months now which was long enough for her to start to get the feeling that food things were the most important piece of Morgan Grimes' existence.
She watched as Chuck dashed out the door to get the marshmallows, into the courtyard, disappearing from her view. And she flicked her gaze over to see that Casey was watching, too. When he turned back to look at her, she wordlessly gave him a look, wondering if one of them should find a way to go with him. But he gave her a minute shake of his head. He was right. It would take Chuck two seconds. Right?
Right.
}o{
"Stupid freakin' marshmallows," Chuck grumbled to himself as he shut the door to the Herder and walked back into the courtyard. But a chill came over him before he could get back to his apartment door and he glanced up to see someone lurking in the shadows under the staircase. He froze and stepped back. "Shit, wha—?"
Bryce stepped out and he felt at least some sense of relief. For a second, he'd been terrified that Fulcrum guy had found him. "Hello, Chuck."
Anger swept through him as he remembered the last time he'd seen Bryce Larkin, he'd gotten a needle jammed into his arm and was drugged. Bastard. What was he doing here? Had he come for him?
"Sarah and Casey are right inside. One girlish scream from me and they go into combat mode," he rushed out. There was no way in hell he'd be taking this AWOL CIA agent by himself.
"This your place?" Bryce asked.
"I'm gonna scream right n—"
"Relax, man. Seriously. I'm not here to hurt you." Then he looked around. "You live here, huh?"
"Y-Yeah, I...do. With my sister. Yeah." He tried to insert an extra warning into his tone, into the hard look on his face. His family was here, too. It wasn't just him. And if Bryce did anything that would cause her harm…
"You...live with your sister, Chuck?"
Chuck clenched his jaw. "Really? You're gonna do that with that tone after what you did to ruin my life?"
"You were supposed to go places, Chuck. Do things. Be somebody. What happened?"
"Oh, I dunno. My plans sort of got derailed when you got me kicked out of Stanford, you freaking asshole," Chuck snapped through a clenched jaw.
"Sorry about that, man. I'm actually here for Sarah." Chuck blanched. "I need to talk to her. Can you bring her to me?"
"No. No, I cannot. Fuck that. I'm not doing anything for you."
"Please. Dude, I'm begging. And without Casey."
"Why would I help you?" Chuck asked, in spite of seeing some genuine desperation starting to come to the surface in his old friend and recent nemesis.
"Because of Fulcrum, Chuck." A chill went down Chuck's spine. "That guy in the elevator? He works for them. And they want the Intersect. They want you." That chill ramped up to infinite. "So you're going to go inside, get your handler Agent Walker—not the guy who shot me, please—and bring her out here...to me. This is important."
"And how am I supposed to do that, Bryce? We're having Thanksgiving dinner. We're eating some turkey!" he snapped. He was feeling especially irked by this now. Because he'd known something would fuck this meal up. He'd known. And Sarah told him it'd be fine and she was wrong. He was right. And God damn, Bryce Larkin. He didn't want to put Sarah in the same space as Bryce again. He didn't like the idea of Bryce and Sarah talking over his head about this Fulcrum thing. And he didn't like not knowing what in the hell was going on when this so obviously concerned him and the supercomputer in his head.
Also, because he couldn't help it, he didn't like the idea of Bryce getting a one on one conference with Sarah. He was only human.
"Don't mean to interrupt the festivities, but do you want to know the truth about the Intersect? About why I left? Why all of this is happening? Fulcrum? Or do you want to finish your turkey?" Bryce snapped back. "Now get Sarah."
Chuck grit his teeth. "Fine. But only because I deserve an explanation. I'll get Sarah, but you're still gonna tell me everything. Capiche?"
Bryce let out a little smirk. "Capiche. I'll wait right here."
"No, you won't. That's a stupid idea. If I send Sarah outside, it'll look suspicious. As much as I hate to do this, I have to put you in my room." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, gesturing for Bryce to follow him to his window. "I swear, if you touch anything, I'll—"
Bryce let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm not going to touch anything. I just need to talk to Sarah, that's all."
"Yeah, whatever. Just get in my room and shut up."
The other man looked a little miffed with his tone, but Chuck thought a part of him probably understood why he was giving him the attitude. And he silently climbed inside of the window without so much as another peep.
Letting out a hissed curse, Chuck stomped back to the door and went inside, trying to control his features as best he could as he handed the marshmallows to Ellie and let her take the sweet potato dish away to finish the job.
"Aw, thanks Chuck. Thanks, Ellie. You two are the greatest," Morgan drawled, clasping his hands together.
Chuck just nodded silently and moved to sit at the table again, purposefully not looking at anybody. He felt a certain type of heat coming up from his collar, like somebody was pointing a hairdryer up at his chin from inside of his shirt. It was an angry heat, and there was some jealousy there, taking a backseat to the anger.
"I made this for you," he heard Anna say to Morgan, pushing some sort of dish closer to Morgan. He saw his friend dig into it out of the corner of his eye and he flattened his napkin on his lap again, picking up his fork.
Chuck felt Sarah's eyes on him and studiously ignored her. He needed to find a way to get her to his bedroom, but he wasn't going to do it without explicitly warning her about what she'd find when she got there. He wasn't letting her be surprised by that. Her ex-partner and ex...whatever thing they had. Damn, this sucked. This sucked a lot.
"Everything okay?" he heard her ask quietly across the table finally. He glanced at her for a second. She was staring at him through her eyelashes, leaning forward.
"Yeah, everything's...great." He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Oh, yeah. Great. Except for the fact that he'd been sure this night would crumble around his ears and Sarah erroneously reassured him it'd all be fine. She'd gotten his hopes up. Nothing was great. Everything was...un-great. It was crap.
It was also obvious she hadn't bought his response for even a moment.
Just then he heard Anna ask Morgan if he liked what she'd made. Chuck glanced over to see that Morgan was having a hard time swallowing whatever he'd just put in his mouth. And poor Anna looked so excited about it. Ooooh boy…
"Mmm's'good. So good," Morgan said around the food. God, if Morgan was having a hard time eating it…
"Does anyone else want some?" Anna asked, reaching for the dish.
"No."
"I'm good."
"Thank you, I'm stuffed."
"Nooo, no. Leave it, um, I mean you made it for Morgan, soooo…"
The rush of voices all coming at once made Anna sit back, eyes wide, confused.
And then Devon reached out to grab Casey's forearm as the latter went for the potatoes. "Oh, man...John, I knew this would be nice and taut, and I was right. I'm impressed. Thoroughly."
Casey turned to fully face the blonde and Chuck figured now was as perfect a time as any to take advantage of the NSA agent's distraction, silently thanking Captain Awesome for being such a weirdo.
"You work out?"
Casey grunted. "Work keeps me in shape.
"How many calories you think burn at the Buy More? Huh?"
"Uh. You tell me."
"About three-fifty an hour. Max…"
Chuck waited for Sarah's weirded out look to switch over to him, as though she was trying to share a moment with him. And God, he wished he could enjoy the inside joke with her. And screw Bryce Larkin for ruining that too, the bastard. He widened his eyes at Sarah and shook his head a little.
"What?" she mouthed, and he saw her go in full alert mode immediately. It was almost impressive.
"Bryce...Larkin...is...in my...bedroom," he mouthed, breathing the words just barely. In case she couldn't read his lips.
She mouthed, "fuck", and controlled her features, turning to smile at Ellie. "Excuse me…"
And just like that, she threw her napkin on the table and got up to head down the hallway, disappearing from sight.
}o{
Chuck's bedroom was dark. It had been months since she'd had Bryce as a partner, but she still knew how he operated. He liked to hide. And he thrived in the darkness.
She slowly crept inside of the room and went into the back of her pants for her gun now that she was out of the hallway and away from where one of Chuck's people might see the weapon.
But it was then that she heard him...somewhere behind her. She spun as she heard the thump, knowing he'd somehow held himself up over the door where she wouldn't think to look.
"Losing your touch? You're getting rusty," he said with a teasing smirk.
She felt something deep inside of her lurch at seeing him standing there again, alive and in one piece. Almost just as she'd remembered him—with that charming yet manipulative air about him. It didn't feel the same anymore though. She didn't trust him. She was pissed. And he could go fuck himself if he thought he could waltz in here and tease and flirt like they used to.
"Bryce, I have a gun."
"Oh, I know. You always do, Sarah." He smiled and there was affection in it. "And, what, like...fifteen knives, too? I know you."
"You don't know shit. I will put a bullet in you right now if I have to. Know that." Would she? Would she really shoot him? She thought she probably would at this point. If the Intersect was in danger. Who was she kidding? If Bryce pulled that shit with Chuck again, she'd shoot her old partner dead to protect him. Not just because he was her asset. That was the truth.
Bryce held his hands up quickly. "I'm not armed, Sarah. Believe me. I don't mean anyone harm here. I just want to talk to you." Why? "I need to say...that I'm sorry."
She just stared at him. "That means absolutely nothing to me."
"I-I know. I don't blame you. It must've looked to you like I'd betrayed the agency, my country...you."
"It didn't look that way, Bryce. You did betray all of those things. Least of all, me. Don't waste your breath apologizing to me. That's the person you should apologize to," she hissed, pointing at the door Bryce had pushed closed just enough that it was still open a crack.
"I haven't gotten that far yet."
"So that's it? You crawled into Chuck's bedroom to tell me you're sorry? Now what?" she snapped, careful not to raise her voice in spite of the mounting fury inside of her.
"He let me in here so I could talk to you." She highly doubted that. Chuck had a habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt, even when they sometimes didn't deserve it. But she didn't think Chuck would just let Bryce Larkin of all people into his bedroom just because he asked him to. She gave Bryce a dubious look and he let out a frustrated huff. "I told him I'd explain everything if he let me talk to you. And that's what I intend to do, Sarah."
That made more sense. He'd used Chuck's innermost desire to know more about the Intersect and figure out how to get it out of his head to force him to let him inside to talk to her. She couldn't blame Chuck at all for it.
"First, give me one reason why I shouldn't just arrest you right now."
"Because I didn't go rogue, contrary to what you might think." Sarah frowned. "The Intersect was a mission. An order I was given. Straight from the top."
"You still haven't given me a reason why I shouldn't—"
"Because, Sarah...you still care about me." He stepped closer as he said it, a mere foot away from her, lowering his chin, making his eyes do that thing...God, he used to really get her when he did that with his eyes. They churned with sincerity and warmth, a tinge of mischief.
She didn't know what to say as he moved in a bit closer. And then he tenderly cupped her face in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek just like he used to do in those intimate moments that were burned so unfortunately into her brain. She felt the heat of his body as he leaned in.
And then she grabbed his wrist up by her face and yanked down, spinning him to face away from her and twisting his arm hard behind his back so that he was forced to his knees, grunting in pain.
"Your actions made certain that any amount of care I might've had for you back then is virtually nonexistent," she ground out through a clenched jaw, leaning over him and twisting his arm harder.
"Virtually?" he asked. She twisted his arm so hard she knew a snap would be the next thing and it'd come right out of its socket. "Ahhh...ahh...O-Okay okay. I really wasn't expecting this to be your reaction."
"What, you thought I'd let you kiss me? After everything that you did? You're charming, Bryce Larkin. And really, really good at being manipulative, at getting what you want. And I was fine with that once upon a time because it fit with what I wanted. I might've even thought it was cute. But it isn't cute anymore." She shoved him face first into the ground and let go of his arm. "I'm not the only one who's rusty," she hissed.
Sarah had to take a deep breath now, stepping back from him, keeping her eyes on his hands to make sure he didn't go for a weapon while he was hunched over trying to get some feeling back into his arm as he slowly climbed up to his feet.
"All right, then, Sarah. We can table that for the time being…" He suddenly became serious as he straightened up and looked at her. There was no mischief. "I wanted Chuck to bring you to me because I need your help. I can't do this alone anymore."
"Should've thought about that before maybe."
"I didn't—"
There were loud footsteps pounding down the hallway then and she knew them inherently to be John Casey's. Shit. She was just starting to get some actual information, too.
She spun to face Bryce. "Look, I need you to stay put, okay? Do not run. Please."
Bryce's eyes burst wide as the door swung open and Casey stepped in, gun up and ready. Sarah swung around and put her hands on Casey's chest. "No, Casey! I've got this under control! He's—"
But Casey half-shoved her out of the way and went after Bryce as the freaking coward dove out of the window into the courtyard. Casey leaned out of the window and let out a "Shit!" before pulling back in and glaring at her.
She felt Chuck's presence at her side then as he staggered into his bedroom.
"Nice work, CIA," Casey groused. That was pretty unfair, and she glared right back at him.
"Hey!" Chuck whispered harshly, slamming his door shut. "No guns at Thanksgiving."
But Casey was already climbing through the window out into the courtyard. Sarah rolled her eyes and stomped after him, swinging one leg out and then following with the rest of her body. Chuck was hot on her heels.
As her new partner checked the nooks and crannies in the courtyard, Sarah moved to the gate and looked out into the street, Chuck choosing to come with her. "What happened?" he asked.
"He ran when the guy who shot him the first time burst into the room. That's what happened. And I'd almost gotten him to talk, too."
"Wait. Talk? Did he tell you anything?"
"No. Someone interrupted," she snapped, gesturing at Casey as he started striding through the courtyard towards them.
Just then, Anna stormed out of the apartment door, looking like she might murder someone...and as Morgan followed after her with a sorry "Come onnnnn, Anna Bananaaaa," following her out through the gate and most likely to her car, Sarah thought he was that someone who would end up murdered.
"He's gone," Casey snapped. "Call it in from my place. I'll check out the back." Then he hurried off again.
Sarah huffed and led Chuck towards Casey's apartment. "How did Casey find out?" she asked him over her shoulder.
"I made a rash decision."
Everything clicked and she turned to face him, raising her chin to stand as tall as she was physically capable of while in front of a man who was six feet four inches tall. "You saw Bryce try to kiss me, didn't you?"
"Um. Do you think you can teach me that move sometime? It was really speedy and effective and…"
"Chuck," she snapped.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if you'd need backup. Stupid, I know. You could handle it, but it felt like it could potentially get dangerous. You know? Like if Bryce got mad and tried to attack you and had some hidden weapon…"
She shut her eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wondered if there wasn't jealousy there, too. In spite of his seeing her turn Bryce's attempted kiss into an ass-whooping. Bryce had been so close to telling her what he needed her help with. And Chuck's jealousy and protectiveness had screwed it up.
Probably as a way to save his own skin, Chuck turned away from her and rushed to Casey's apartment, but then he froze in front of the window, the blue light streaming through the blinds, and he dashed back to her side. She was already stepping out of her flats as he asked, "Sarah, why is someone in Casey's apartment?" he asked, his voice low.
"Sh," she warned, slinking past the windows towards the door. "Stay here," she breathed over her shoulder and he nodded quickly.
As silently as she could, she eased Casey's door open and stepped into his entryway, looking across the room to see the back of Bryce Larkin, hunched over a computer, tapping away at something.
She reached behind and actually got her gun out this time, slowly lifting it to point at her ex-partner's back.
There was a gasp behind her, and she knew Chuck had followed when she'd explicitly told him not to. And now Bryce knew too, because he spun to face her with his own gun out, pointing it at her in a mimicry of what she was doing.
"Put it down, Bryce," she demanded.
Bryce didn't look like he was going to listen, she thought. There was an ache in him as he looked at her, though. Like he didn't want to be in this spot, like he was genuinely trying to reach out to her. And fuck her stupid conscience for listening to him when the rest of her was willing it not to.
"Sarah…" Chuck breathed.
"Close the door, Chuck," Bryce snapped. And what right did he have to use that tone with Chuck? He was the one who'd screwed Chuck over, not the other way around. Bastard.
"Okay," Chuck said, his voice shaking. "Okay, okay, okay, okay…I'm closing the—closing the door. I'm walking into...the apartment...Please do not shoot. Do not shoot me. Do not shoot Sarah. Do not shoot anything."
He was unraveling. She could tell. She could hear it. But he did shut the door.
"I need you to listen to me," Bryce said, slowly shifting across the room. Sarah shifted with him, reaching back to grab whatever part of Chuck she could grab onto and pulling him with her so that she was shielding him still.
"Just put it down," she said.
"The Intersect was a mission. I was recruited by an outfit called Fulcrum. That's a special access group inside the CIA."
That was preposterous. Insane. "You're lying," she spat. "We would know that."
And then, she thought, maybe she wouldn't know that. And it stung to realize it. Casey had been the one who told her about the Intersect, about what it did, what it was for. Director Graham didn't feel the need to read her in on any of it. Why? She still didn't know. Now she was wondering just how much Graham knew about Fulcrum.
"They knew who I was, my activation codes, my record. They ordered me to shed my agency contacts and go deep. Only then did I realize it was an internal strike to download and destroy the Intersect." He clenched his jaw. "They used me. Manipulated me into thinking I was on the right side. But I figured it out pretty quick. Fulcrum had their own plans for the intel in the Intersect."
"You really expect me to trust you, Bryce? If you were recruited by Fulcrum, who's to say you aren't just trying to get the Intersect back for them now?" She tightened her grip on Chuck's shirt, twisting the material in her fist to make sure he continued to stay behind her. It wasn't lost on anyone in the room that he was the Intersect. That he was what Fulcrum was after.
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Sarah."
"Drop the shit, Bryce. This isn't about me. Stop making it about me."
"I didn't know who to trust. That's why I didn't tell you. That's why I just left."
She was tired of him acting like what they had was more than what it was. Like they had the romance of the century, a great love torn asunder by the spy world. Maybe he'd been more serious about it than she'd been, but she doubted it. He was still trying to tap into the connection they did have. She had appreciated him as a partner. They'd had a wicked partnership in the field. They'd been so good as a spy team. But he'd ditched out on that. Could she really expect him to trust her more than he had? She hadn't trusted him in that way.
"Why Chuck?" she asked. "You didn't know who to trust, but you trusted Chuck?"
"That-That's a really good question," Chuck piped up over her shoulder. "I'd like to know that as well."
Bryce finally lowered his gun, shaking his head. "All these years, Chuck's been the only loyal friend I've had. And most importantly, I'd made sure he was kept out of all of this. The spy world. I needed someone who wasn't a spy, someone...who isn't just a civilian, but someone who'd automatically do the right thing if it came down to it." He huffed, rolling his eyes a little at himself. "At the end of the day, I knew you wouldn't know about Fulcrum, Chuck. Or the Intersect. Or Sand Wall."
There was a pause and then an intake of breath behind her.
"Sand Wall. Sand Wall… Operation Sand Wall. That-That was the name of the mission. The Intersect mission. Sarah, I think he's telling the truth."
She turned to look at Chuck as he blinked away the effects of what had to be a flash. She asked anyway. "Did you flash?"
"Yeah," he breathed, nodded and meeting her gaze as she looked back at him. "Everything he said is in there."
"I'm not rogue," Bryce repeated.
Sarah turned back and clenched her jaw, eyeing him dubiously. And then she slowly lowered the gun to her side. She was actually starting to believe that. Chuck's flash had helped. But she kept him in her grip just in case, making sure he was still behind her.
Before she could make Bryce clarify even more, though, the door to the apartment opened behind Bryce where he'd shifted during their short stand-off. Casey stepped inside and she felt her heart leap into her throat as he turned and saw Bryce.
Without thinking twice, he lifted his gun and pointed it at Bryce who spun to face him, hands up in surrender.
"CASEY, NO!" Chuck yelled, lurching forward, nearly knocking her over in the process.
But Casey squeezed the trigger, the bullet slamming into Bryce's chest and sending him crashing onto his back, completely limp.
She blinked down at the body, unable to breathe for a moment, and then she heard a loud thump behind her. She spun to see that Chuck had fainted and was just as limp on the ground. It was a grotesque sight, the two men who'd been important in her life for two very different and yet connected reasons, lying there unmoving, like the puppeteer had cut the strings holding them up.
But as she knelt at Bryce's side and yanked his shirt open, she saw the bullet had lodged in the bullet-proof vest he'd smartly donned before undertaking tonight's foolish errand. Thank God. She moved to Chuck's side as she pointed for Casey to tend to the man he'd just tried to kill again.
"He's not a rogue spy, Casey. He just explained everything and Chuck flashed to confirm he's telling the truth."
"Oh. Well. My bad, I guess."
She rolled her eyes at him as he went over to Bryce who seemed to be starting to come to. Chuck was still out cold. She put a clammy hand on his neck and rubbed up to his jaw, lightly patting his cheek. "Come on, Chuck. Wake up."
He lurched a bit and slowly blinked his eyes open, looking woozy. He went pale as his brown eyes latched onto Bryce's body. But as Bryce started to move, letting out a pained groan, Chuck pushed himself up a bit and set his confused gaze to his old friend's face. "Wha…?"
"Bullet-proof vest," she explained, helping him sit up. "You okay?"
"Just...my pride," he breathed, clearing his throat as he leaned back against Casey's cabinet, letting out a relieved sigh. "Bryce? You okay?" he asked in a bit louder of a voice.
"You really just come into rooms and shoot people like that, Casey?" Bryce groaned as the NSA agent yanked him to sit up a lot less gently than she'd just done with Chuck.
"Yeah. Especially when they're traitorous scum."
"I'm not traitorous scum," he groused. "If you'd waited a minute for any one of us to explain that…"
"I don't like to wait, assmunch," Casey growled.
"Maybe you should've aimed for my head…"
"Maybe I still can…"
"Stop it!" Sarah snapped over her shoulder. She was sick of the macho-off between the two of them. Then she turned back to Chuck and grabbed him by his bicep. "Can you stand now?" When he nodded, she helped him to his feet, making sure he didn't sway or go cross-eyed before she let go of him and helped Casey get Bryce to his feet. She got to work on Bryce's vest, ignoring his smirk as she helped him shrug all of it off, leaving him bare-chested.
She couldn't help but notice he'd lost weight—whether it was his injury from Casey shooting him the first time and recuperating, or whatever else happened with Fulcrum, she didn't know, but a part of her deep down felt some sympathy for him.
She made Bryce sit in a chair and handed him ice that she made Casey retrieve from his freezer, wincing inwardly at the horrible welt on the not-rogue agent's chest from Casey's bullet. Chuck wandered over finally and stood beside his old friend, the man who'd essentially ruined his life, and looked down at him with no trace of bitterness or even animus. Instead, he just looked confused.
"I don't get it, Bryce. How are you even alive still?"
Sarah kept her gaze on Chuck, the way his voice was quiet, tired. He looked beaten down again, and she spared a thought for the fact that he'd been so sure his Thanksgiving would be ruined. He was right. And now Ellie and Devon were probably just sitting there with a table full of cold food wondering where in the hell everyone had gone to. They'd have some explaining to do. But they'd have to come up with something later, when an escaped CIA prisoner who might get them all into a shit ton of trouble wasn't sitting here, bringing back an entire mess of memories and feelings and just...crap. On top of some potentially severe implications for the safety of democracy as they knew it.
"You mean how'd Fulcrum keep me alive?" He caught a T-shirt Casey tossed him and slipped it on over his bare torso. Which was good. Because she was a straight woman and she'd forgotten how fit Bryce was. As much as there wasn't a lot of remaining attachments between her and Bryce, she didn't need his body on display that much when he had a lot of explaining to do. "I don't really know. I was in and out for most of it, but mostly out. Probably used one of the European clinics. I don't remember any of it."
Sarah narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "You know why they did it…" It wasn't a question.
Bryce turned and gave her a long look, almost as if he was studying her, trying to gauge where she stood with him, if he had any sort of ally in the room, if she was his ally in the room. She wanted to tell him to look elsewhere. In spite of everything he'd done, Chuck was probably the closest thing he had to an ally here. Even if he wasn't rogue and was actually on the level with this. He nodded at her. "Yeah."
"Well, should I pop some popcorn or beat the answer out o' ya?" Casey snarled, a small smirk on his face.
"No, thanks," Bryce snarked back. "I'll talk."
"Darn it."
This was even more annoying than the bickering Casey and Chuck got up to. At least the machismo only went in one direction with those two. With Bryce and Casey, it was a two way street, and it was insufferable.
"You know the first part already. I downloaded the Intersect intel, sent it to Chuck, and blew up the computer. Raced out of the DNI. Then I ran into you, Casey." He shot Casey a meaningful look and got a pleased look out of the NSA agent. "So I'm on the ground. No white light, just Casey staring down at me. I lost consciousness and was out for who knows how long? I don't know how I got where I came to, but there was a lot of pain, people hovering over me. They brought me back from what had to be the brink of death, but they weren't trying to save me. No, this was a Fulcrum team. I recognized one of them. I knew I was in deep shit but there was nothing I could do about it." She thought she saw a shiver go through him and she felt a chill go down her own spine. "They wanted something. The guy you saw in the elevator, Chuck," he said, turning back to look up at him. "He was there. He asked me where the Intersect files were. He was desperate for an answer. And I knew that no matter what happened, I couldn't tell him what I actually did with them, where they actually went."
Bryce turned and looked up at her then. "I told him I downloaded them. That I'm the Intersect. To save Chuck."
She took a slow breath and met his gaze. Was he looking for some kind of credit? From her in particular? She didn't reveal anything of her thoughts in her face, prompting him to turn back to Chuck again.
"Fulcrum thinks you're the Intersect," Chuck said, frowning. She searched his face, hoping to God she didn't see any guilt there. It would be just like him to feel guilty, and she refused to let him take any of that on himself. He didn't have any kind of choice here. And Bryce did exactly what he should've done in that situation, exactly what any agent who valued their country would do in that situation. That sacrifice was part of the job.
"Yeah. And they kept me alive, brought me back, so that they could take it out of me. They have no control over the Intersect, over the files, if it's all in my head." He shrugged. Just like the CIA and NSA couldn't control the Intersect while Chuck had it in his head. There was probably a team of analysts and scientists right now, quarantined away in some underground lab, trying to figure out how to extract the Intersect from Chuck's brain. She inwardly shivered.
"That's why I need your help," Bryce continued. "I need to turn myself in to the CIA, but Fulcrum has operatives in every agency." There went that chill again. "I need to know that I'm being handed over to the real CIA."
"I can do that," Chuck said immediately. Sarah swung her gaze up to him and stared, but his own eyes were fastened on Bryce. "I can do that. I-I can be there at the transfer. And if I flash on whoever they send, I can figure out if they're part of Fulcrum. That's how this thing works. I think. I flashed on the elevator guy, after all. And if I don't flash on 'em, you're on your way home."
Sarah had a million misgivings. But now wasn't the time to say that. Not here. So she nodded. "That should work." When Chuck finally met her gaze, she sent him a significant look. "Smart, Chuck."
The slow, almost surprised, typically warm smile Chuck sent her at that made her acutely aware of Agent Larkin's eyes boring a hole in her. She pointedly did not look at him. She didn't want to even think about what might be going through his head. Because she knew how observant the jerk could be. And she also knew he had a tendency to jump to conclusions. None of them needed that right now.
"They still need a place where the transfer can go down, public place, lots of people," Casey spoke up.
Chuck narrowed his eyes and it was light a lightbulb went off over his head. "Public spot... Lots of witnesses. I know a place."
Sarah Walker frowned.
Oh God, no.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews, we like them a lot.
-SC and DC