A/N: I'm going to keep the chatter to a bare minimum except to say thank you thank you thank you to everyone reading and reviewing. You're sticking with me through all of this and I'm just really grateful for my readers. Every day, I'm really just...super grateful. Love you folks.

Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK and this story isn't going to help me be less poor. Alas.

Last time: Sarah, Chuck, and Casey were attacked from below en route to Monterrey in their dirigible! When they crash-landed, they were rounded up by guerrilla leader Canstantos' men, but escaped thanks to bad ass fighting skills (and in Chuck's case the Intersect!)...Oh yeah, and Chuck and Sarah told Casey everything. WHAT?!

Sarah was stirred awake by the slightest sound, the shuffle of a boot against leaves and dirt…

Alert, even as her eyes stayed shut, everything that had happened came back to her in a rush.

She listened to the rain still going strong outside of the cave, and eventually she opened her eyes and peered at the unconscious form of Chuck Bartowski. He was half on his side, her coat that had been draped over him when she'd gone to sleep mysteriously draped over her now, and his head was pillowed on his bicep and nothing else.

She sat up and let her coat—now dry—fall down to her waist, then pushed the mess of hair that escaped her braid back from her face with a quick brush of her fingertips. Chuck wasn't a very heavy sleeper, and she was afraid she'd wake him if she transferred the coat back over him. So instead, she let him be, glancing over to wear Casey had been silently staring at the flames between them when she'd fallen asleep.

He wasn't there now, though.

In fact, where was he?

She looked over to the mouth of the cave, wondering if knowing everything had made the man decide to leave their company altogether. She imagined some sort of identity crisis, an interruption in the natural order of his life he'd stuck to for so long. It was an easy thing, to let oneself become disillusioned by this world they lived in.

But he was standing there, his tall, hulking figure a silhouette against the open mouth of the cave they were sheltered in. She thought maybe she should lie back down and try to sleep some more, leave him alone with his thoughts. They'd given him a lot to think about. At least he hadn't killed them both in their sleep.

She pushed the coat off of her body and she left him and the fire behind, shrugging the coat on for warmth and moving towards the mouth of the cave. She didn't stop until she was standing next to the bounty hunter.

"S'a dirty trick," he finally said after a few quiet, and strangely comfortable moments. "That whole complicated lie you two spun to keep me from knowin' about the Intersect." She was going to defend herself, defend Chuck, ask him if he wouldn't have done the same. But then he continued. "Impressive, though. Damn it."

She huffed once in amusement and smirked out at the wet darkness beyond their dry sanctuary.

Then he chuckled. "I almost find it amusin', though. The Ice Queen gettin' 'erself tied up with someone like that of all people." He tossed his head back towards where Chuck still slept. And she fought the urge to be defensive, keeping a nonplussed look on her face as she pulled her coat tighter around her body. "Can't believe Larkin didn't get a knife through 'is skull fer it, though."

"Neither can I," she admitted. "But he threatened…something important. And I need to protect it. So I'm still here." She made sure she continued looking away so that he couldn't see her face, that she was embarrassed she was capable of being blackmailed.

"Mm. Blackmail. Lettin' 'im blackmail you at first? Now I git that, I do. I've let people think they've got the jump on me before. Give myself a chance to think up a way to bring 'em down when they get comfortable like they won or somethin'." Casey shrugged. "But lettin' it go fer this long? Jes' not matchin' up wit' wut I've heard 'bout the Ice Queen."

The look he flashed her was significant, and she met it squarely, even lifting her chin. "What you've heard about the Ice Queen, hm?" she repeated with a sniff. She smirked, then looked away with a roll of her eyes.

"Wut?"

"You know as well as I do what makes it into print and what doesn't, Major Casey. And that these so-called journalists aren't above printing lies to sell a few extra subscriptions." She shrugged, not wanting to go too deep into it with the man. Not right now. She was tired and in a mood.

"So yer sayin' everythin' I've read 'bout the Ice Queen is a lie?" He gave her a flat look this time.

"Not all of it. I've killed plenty," she said, lowering her voice significantly. And she hated the way he smirked as if he noticed and knew why she'd done it. "Some of them, I'd do it again. Ten times over. And others…Well, perhaps I would choose differently if I could go back. I'm not proud of everything I've had to do." She shrugged one shoulder, a bit tentative. "But I've never stood over someone I've killed and laughed." She rolled her eyes. "I've never smeared a message in blood, and I've certainly never removed men's hearts with a rusty blade.

Casey let out an amused breath and shook his head. "I did see a few farfetched 'uns like that. Utter shit straight outta the penny dreadfuls."

"Glad you think so, but others believe it hook, line, and sinker. If I'm ever caught, I'll be strung up by the neck."

"Chased down by folks with pitchforks an' all?" he asked glibly.

"Exactly."

"Heh. Ya still din't answer wut I asked. Nice try with the deflectin', though, I'm almost impressed."

Sarah looked up at him through her eyelashes and pressed her lips together. Then she sighed and pushed some of her hair out of her face, switching her weight from one foot to the other, slightly uncomfortable with this line of discussion. "It helps that I don't especially like the idea of the world ending because someone hellbent on destruction gets their corrupted dirty hands on Chuck Bartowski and what he has in his head. Through no fault of his own, I might add."

"Hmng." He stood there in silence for a few moments. "Ice Queen has a conscience, eh?"

"I'm a human being," she said, a bit snappish.

Casey held his hands up in surrender and whistled quietly. "'Course ya are. Never said ya weren't. But the lengths yer goin' to are pretty interestin'."

She chose not to respond. So he continued. Of course.

"Jes' that yer…well, yer a a con artist, a criminal. Jes' factual, not tryin'a be insultin'. Doin' the right thing jes' seems like it wouldn't be a top priority." He turned to watch her as she pointedly stared at the rain pelting the forest outside of their little cave.

She felt him studying her closely. "So what are you insinuating then, Casey?"

"That it isn't jes' blackmail an' wantin' to save the world. That mebbe it's also about the kid." She flashed a dangerous glance his way and he snorted, not intimidated at all, she knew. "It's alrigh', Walker. He's damn near unconscious. I practically tripped over 'is dumb giant feet earlier an' 'e didn' even budge. It's jes' between us non-pure folk, us killers." The way he flashed his teeth made her stop for a moment, because there was something in his eyes, something she couldn't read…Was it bitterness? If it was, she could relate.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, he's stupid in a lot o' ways but he's a good man. Can't help thinkin'…" He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If anythin' were to, erm, ever happen to 'im, it'd be sorta like blowin' out the last candle in the room…leave everythin' in darkness, ya know? World might be a little…I dunno, colder."

Sarah lifted her eyebrows and turned to fully face the bounty hunter. "Did you just say something incredibly nice about Chuck? Do you perhaps…respect him?" He didn't respond. "You care about him, don't you?"

"Shut up. He's an idiot," he growled.

"We both care. And we both know it."

He grunted, probably feeling better about her teasing since she admitted to caring about Chuck, as well. "Yeh, well…Ain't like I'm pickin' out curtains or anythin'. You, on the other hand…"

"Now you can shut up," she interrupted, sending him a look that was half amused in spite of herself.

There was silence again, but this time it was comfortable, dare she think it.

"I wanna kill 'im," Casey finally said. Sarah knew immediately he was talking about Bryce. The man who started this for all of them.

"I do and I don't. I have quite a few questions to ask him first. Such as, how could he bring something so incredibly important and dangerous to his best friend's doorstep the way he did, when he claims to care about him so much?" Sarah mused.

"Yeh. That. Ain't no reason for a kid like 'im to be involved in all o' this. But I can't help wonderin'…"

He paused.

"What?" Sarah finally asked, intrigued.

"Well, mebbe Chuck's th'only one Bryce knew 'e could depend on, only one 'e could trust."

"That's obviously it," Sarah said with a shrug. "But that still doesn't explain why he put him in so much danger."

Casey shook his head. "No, I mean that he mebbe thought he might be able ta trust Chuck with…all of it."

"The Intersect? You mean you think Bryce wanted that monstrosity to be shoved into his only friend's head?" She looked at him like he was crazy. It would be horribly asinine if that had been Bryce's intention.

"Hide it with someone they'd never suspect, then run off an' make 'em think 'e had it the whole time. Perfect way to make sure the Intersect's never found."

Sarah shook her head. "No, you don't know all of it. When Bryce was telling me about the Intersect, he said scientists have been constructing it for decades. There is a lot of information, and it's all inside of Chuck's head right now… I doubt what happened to Chuck was something other people would have been able to handle."

"And he did…" Casey glanced back at the sleeping toymaker and grunted, smiling just slightly. "Figures. Kid's worth more'n he looks."What Casey didn't know, however, was that Bryce had no idea who Chuck was now, or just exactly what his friend was capable of. The courage and fortitude to do the right thing, the selflessness and intelligence past just building a walking, talking machine-man that was starting to almost think for itself. He understood the world better than Bryce knew. And while he might not have entirely accepted the way the world was—the darkness in it—the way she had, Chuck still saw it. Seeing something and accepting it as just the way it is were two different things.

Chuck was extraordinary. Though she didn't feel comfortable saying that to Casey. He'd misunderstand her. He'd run with it and tease her about it. He'd insinuate things that she didn't want to hear, frankly.

But the toymaker was an extraordinary person.

And yet…

The way he lost consciousness this time, crumbling to the ground, not even waking up for almost ten minutes until they'd been able to find shelter—and even then, being in obvious pain—chilled Sarah to the bone. Were the side-effects from his flashes getting worse? Or was it just when the flashes were physical, rather than informational? He'd snapped the ropes binding his wrists with nothing but brute strength that she was sure no one would have been able to do without the Intersect. Nobody human had that kind of strength.

She stopped.

Nobody human…

Sarah would be sure to never say anything like that aloud. He'd mentioned more than once that he was more machine than man now. And he'd said it with a heaviness that had left her bereft.

He was wrong.

Whatever the Intersect was doing to him, it wasn't making him any less human. His humanity rested upon so much more than what was in his brain.

"Go sleep," Casey said then. "I'll wake ya when I'm tired."

Sarah sighed and nodded, not entirely willing to put up much of a fight. She was still tired down to her very bones. And she shuffled back to where she'd been asleep before, lying down and resting her head on her arms, letting her eyes drift shut as she listened to the comforting pitter patter of the rain outside of the cave.

}o{

"The hell is our government doin' puttin' all our secrets and high-level intelligence details in one place, anyway?" Casey grumbled. "Seems like a stupid thin' ta do. Somebody finds the Intersect an' they have…everythin'. Wut kind o' idiots are runnin' this country?"

"You were hired by one of them, so you tell us," Sarah sniped.

Chuck lifted his gaze from the squishing mud at his feet to stare at the back of her head. He could tell she was tired and in a bad mood. Luckily he had sense enough not to point out to the con woman that they were all tired and in a bad mood. He'd end up losing an eyeball or something.

All he wanted was to be home, in his bathtub. He'd stay there until his fingers and toes became all pruny. And then he would crawl into his bed and never leave it again. Let the government find him, take the damnable Intersect out of his head. What did he care?

Scoffing at himself and rolling his eyes, he shook his head at his own melodramatic thoughts and rushed his step so that he was walking beside Sarah. "What I'd like to know is what the great creator was thinking when they created mosquitos. Damn things serve no damn purpose." He slapped at his neck and made a face, annoyed when it seemed he'd missed. "Elusive bastards."

He saw Sarah smirk, which he supposed was better than the dark frown she'd been wearing.

Casey turned to look over his shoulder while he answered. "If there's a God, she has to be a woman. Only women are passive aggressive enough to make mosquitos."

"Go jump off a bridge, Casey," Sarah snapped, even as she smirked even harder. He sent her a toothy grin and continued walking forward.

"We still got a ways to go," the bounty hunter said then. "Miles ahead of us 'til we get ta Monterrey." He turned to give Chuck a steady stare, even as he skillfully maneuvered the unpaved, treacherous ground they were traversing. "The dossier the general gave me when she hired me to find Pretty Boy was perdy empty. Din't even say much about the orphanage he'd come from, er wut 'e did in the Air Force." He turned back and pushed through some brush, pausing as they followed after him, first Sarah, and then Chuck. "These spy agencies ain't got no trouble with erasing people's histories when they hire 'em. But it makes it hard to find 'em again when they become turncoats, don't it? Idiots runnin' this empire, I swear it," he grumbled.

"And you want me to fill in the blanks, is that it?" Chuck asked. "Because I can't."

"Ain't I proved you kin trust me, yet?"

The toymaker paused, exchanging a look with Sarah. "Honestly, I'm not sure how much I trust you. We're still going to Monterrey, where this erstwhile commodore lives with her family." He gave Casey a significant look when the older man frowned at him almost like he was offended, but there was also a bit of begrudging understanding there as well, Chuck thought. "That aside, I said I can't tell you because I honestly don't know much myself."

Casey grunted in curiosity.

"I thought Bryce was in the Air Force this whole time. All of these years since he left to join, that's where I thought he was. Off being a hero, living an exciting, adventure-filled life, the way his letters and postcards said he was. It wasn't until you attacked Sarah in her house and she was forced to tell me the entire truth that I found out he was an agent with the IEL. So I suppose what I mean to say is…" He shrugged. "I don't know him the way I thought I did. I know nothing about his life, about who he is. Perhaps I never knew him really. So I can't fill the holes in his dossier for you."

He tried his best not to sound hurt about it. Because he understood. Reluctantly. But he still understood. Bryce hadn't only been protecting himself by not telling his best friend the truth, he'd been protecting his best friend as well…and Ellie and Devon…all of the people who could've been in danger. Then again, bringing the Intersect to the Buy More where said best friend worked had put him in much more danger than the truth about him being a spy ever would have. And Chuck felt incredibly justified in his bitterness about that. That was a choice the toymaker didn't understand. And he thought he never would.

"Hnmg." Casey was silent for a solid minute as they continued trudging along. "Well then fill in your dossier for me, toy boy."

"You're not getting anything out of me by calling me 'toy boy', I hope you know."

He was sent a semi-glare, and then…finally…Casey shrugged and relented. "Old habits an' the like. Fine…Chuck…How'd you know our favorite spy?"

Did he really want to go through all of that? Drudge up the whole of his past for Casey and Sarah to hear? No. He absolutely didn't want to do that. Not at the moment. In the middle of a rainforest, surrounded by wet heat and trees and creatures he'd never seen before in his life. But there was a strange pull inside of him, in his chest and stomach. He couldn't explain it, but it opened his mouth. It made his voice come out.

And he decided to just go along with it.

"Isn't that how you found me in the first place? We grew up together, in the same orphanage, the one you already know about."

"You were listed as one of 'is contacts, in case…er…in case anythin' happened to 'im. It's the general protocol for folks wut join military 'n intelligence agencies. They die, somebody gotta git their possessions, their money an' holdin's."

Chuck nearly stopped walking at that…and when the meaning fully hit him, he did stop. His two companions stopped as well, turning to look at him. He felt numb, blinking down at his boots that had sunk a bit in the mud. "Was I—Am I Bryce's next of kin?" he muttered, a little breathless.

"Who else 'e got?" Casey asked with a shrug.

"Oh. Good point. I just didn't think…" He shook himself and looked back up at them. "We went on adventures together. Him and I, and Ellie when she wasn't too preoccupied with studies." Since neither of them had moved yet, Chuck gestured for them to continue with a flick of his head, and they all walked on again. "We pretended we were other people—anyone else—people with money, usually." He snorted. "People with…well, other people. Explorers, sometimes. Soldiers, other times. With mothers and fathers waiting back home, our pictures framed over the mantel. Utterly silly and childish things like that. But we were close."

"Then?" Casey prompted.

"What do you mean?"

"He ran off to the Air Force er wut?"

"Ellie had…" Chuck paused, not ready or willing to delve too deep into what had happened that had been the catalyst for Ellie's career, or their leaving the orphanage eventually. "Well, she had the means for us to rent our own room in the, er, cheaper part of town. And she had a plan for what she was working toward, a future. So we left." He snorted again. "The mistresses were happy to see us go, I'm certain. We caused them quite a few headaches between the two of us. But with us leaving, Bryce didn't want to stay there. So he took an assistant position with an ex-military man and used that connection to transition into the Air Force when he was of age. After that, I didn't hear from him much. Now I know why."

"How the hell'd an orphan get 'is own shop the way you did? That's wut I wanna know. S'not an easy thin' ter do, opening a shop, buying a place as big as the Buy More is, with a workshop in the back of the store, all that equipment…"

"I built everything in that shop," Chuck said, and both Casey and Sarah did double takes.

"You built all of that?" the con woman asked. "Even the engine?"

"Mhm." He nodded. He wasn't immune to pride, but he didn't feel any at that moment. Perhaps he was too drained, or perhaps it was just a part of his existence. He built everything with his own hands. It was just reality. "I worked some odd jobs, erm, in other shops, running errands, taking paper routes, other uh…things…" He glanced away, deciding he didn't much want to recall any of those other things. "Until I had the money to start buying real tools and taking money under the table for doing repair work. I ended up making enough to put the down payment on the Buy More space. It took awhile to pay everything else off, but at least I had somewhere to work from. Started building toys and gadgets, selling them to anyone who'd pay."

"An' Morgan? Damn pest," Casey grumbled.

Chuck had no control over his features in that moment, but only Sarah was watching, only she noticed, and he would have no way of knowing that she made a point to store her observations away to ponder later. "Uh…Morgan, yes. He ended up being a side project. Something I'd been working on for…" He scratched behind his ear. "For awhile. That's all," he emphasized, because it wasn't all and he had no intention of ever, ever talking about all.

"See? Now that wa'nt so hard, was it?" Casey snarked.

"And what about you? You going to fill us in on your—?"

"Nope."

"I should've known better."

And he smiled a little to himself as Sarah and Casey chuckled together.

}o{

John Casey, the only one of them with a map, had walked their miniature caravan right into the base of a mountain by the time the sun began to set that day.

Sarah had stepped through the clearing first, and she'd stopped dead at seeing it before her, about half a mile ahead. The setting sun in the West illuminated the face of the mountain, little bits of dark grey rock shining through a carpet of greenery.

"Casey?" she glanced at him over her shoulder and saw that he was looking up at the mountain with a blank look. She could hear Chuck still crunching and stomping through the brush behind him, yet to discover their current predicament. "Might I see that map?"

"Er…" He slapped the folded up map into her hand.

She sent him a flat look and unfolded it, right as Chuck broke through.

"Oh. That's definitely a mountain." He gaped up at it, then dropped his gaze to Sarah again. "That's a mountain. Is there supposed to be a mountain there?"

"Well, it's been here for a while, at least since the beginning of time, so I think it's more that we're not supposed to be here," Sarah corrected, looking at the map. "Chuck, let me use your back."

"Wha—?"

"Turn around, idjit!" Casey snapped.

Wide-eyed, Chuck dropped his sack from his shoulder and spun on his heels so that Sarah could flatten the map against his back. "Oh, I see now," he chirped. "But careful, I'm ticklish."

Sarah and Casey ignored the inventor, both poring over the map. "Monterrey: The City of Mountains. It literally says it right here."

"Yeah, yeah…" Casey snarked. "It's an easy enough fix. Jes' walk aroun' th'face of it. Along the South side. Points us straight into th'center o' the city."

"Yes, obviously, but this also means we need to spend yet another night out here."

"And? Sorry ya won't have a bed fer another night, princess."

Sarah merely rolled her eyes and stepped back. "Then we need to find shelter and continue again in the morning. Hopefully we get into Monterrey before nightfall tomorrow."

Chuck turned around as Casey took the map from his back and started folding it up again. "What's so important about nightfall tomorrow?"

She watched as he slung his pack back onto his shoulder, then met his gaze. "I don't want to be out in the open at nighttime there. I've spent my life slinking through shadows, and I know how much easier it is for bad sorts to hide in them at night. I'd like to be behind closed doors by the time the sun sets."

Sarah missed the look Chuck and Casey exchanged as she tromped away, in the direction they'd be traveling in the morning. She was too distracted by the sound of rushing water. She was assailed by a memory from long ago…and for a moment, just for a single moment, she felt a wave of comfort and familiarity. Simpler times.

She followed the sound, even when the memory faded to the back of her mind again, and the wistful look on her face fell away. And as she squeezed herself through some of the brush, ducking under a tree branch, she found herself at a narrow body of water that ended over the edge of a cliff and into a pool below, she saw as she carefully maneuvered herself along the slippery rock and looked over the side.

Chuck and Casey joined her at the edge moments later, and she had to resist the urge to grab at the back of Chuck's jacket when he leaned forward a little too far for her liking.

"Oh, this is absolutely stunning!"

"Ugh. How do we get past this?"

She smirked. Two different men with two completely different reactions to nature's beauty and two different outlooks on life in general.

Sarah knelt down and watched as the water spilled down over the face of the cliff. She followed the small pool that trickled into a stream. As far as she could tell, said stream went in the direction they would be following come first light.

"We should stay close to the water," she said, then, ignoring both of her male counterparts.

"And if it goes in th'wrong direction? I'm not lookin' ta go all the way down ta Guadalajara."

"We'd have to go through plenty of mountainous terrain to get that far. But if it starts veering towards the South, away from this mountain, we just break off. Fresh water rivers and streams usually lead to cities." She stood up to her full height again and led the way along the cliff to the steep, muddy bank that looked like it would be their only way down.

Sarah couldn't help joining in with Chuck as he barked out a laugh at Casey making a misstep towards the end of his descent and tumbling head over feet the rest of the way down. The annoyed grunt as he pushed himself back to his full height and brushed the leaves and mud off of his pants and shoulders was the only response they got.

And Sarah had to eventually elbow Chuck to get him to stop laughing, for fear Casey might strangle him if it went on for too much longer.

They walked another minute or two before settling down in a flat patch of greenery with a canopy of branches, leaves, and vines stretching out above them. Casey halfheartedly expressed disdain at the fact that they might not see the sun rising as easily through the trees, but all Sarah had to do was shrug and he dropped it.

She was tired and her limbs ached. But as Casey laid out and got comfortable, she picked at her blouse she wore and looked down at her arms caked with dirt. Then she glanced back over her shoulder, following the soothing sound of the waterfall that was much fainter here, but still audible.

"I'll return shortly. If you need me, I'll be back at the falls."

Casey shrugged and rolled onto his side, facing away from her, but she wasn't talking to him. Chuck nodded, setting his pack down. "Alone?" Sarah stopped, unable to stifle the slightly knowing smirk in time. He cleared his throat and looked away. "Of course. Of course alone. You are—Right, yes. Of course. I'll be here. We'll be here. When you return."

By the time he was a few paces behind her and out of sight, most likely feeling like a fool, Sarah was grinning as she made her way to the pool. And it took awhile for it to subside while she bathed.

The night passed quickly and in the morning, she awakened to the sight of Casey still out cold, one boot off and one on, for some strange reason, snoring like a bear. Rolling her eyes tiredly, she glanced over to where Chuck had slept. He wasn't there.

She didn't feel that spike of alarm yet, knowing he'd been assigned the last shift of being look-out. But when she glanced around the area and couldn't find him at all, the nerves began to mount. The sky was just beginning to lighten, beams of sunlight streaming through the leaves behind her. She climbed to her feet and stretched, shrugging her coat that she'd been using for a blanket on and pulling it tight around her body in the crisp morning air.

Her hair had since dried from the night before when she'd stood under the falls, letting the fresh, cold water spill over her head and body. But it had dried in strange kinks and tangles. As she moved around the perimeter of their small camp looking for Chuck, she pulled her long messy hair to the front and braided it.

"Chuck…?" she whispered as loudly as she could, not wanting to wake Casey. He'd taken the middle shift, which was the worst. And she woke up with a feeling of goodwill toward mankind which included Casey, for whatever reason.

She eventually decided to follow the path back to the waterfall. The toymaker had left his things at the camp, so he couldn't have gone too far. She slinked through the trees quietly, the sound of the water growing louder with each step she took, and just as she reached the edge, about to step around the large bush to see if Chuck was there, she caught sight of him through the leaves.

He'd left his boots and socks at the end of the water and folded his trousers up to just below his knees so that he could wade through the pool to the waterfall. His coat, button-up, vest, and undershirt were lying in the dirt further back, as though he'd stripped them off and thrown them haphazardly to the shore once he'd walked into the pool.

Now the inventor stood at the water cascading down the face of the cliff, hunched over at the waist, letting it spill over him, both hands in his hair, scrubbing, then switching to his shoulders, over his chest, his torso, waist, wetting the waistband of his trousers.

Sarah felt dishonest and sneaky, peeking through the brush at him washing himself. And she knew she shouldn't feel like she had to peek, anyway. He wasn't completely without clothes. It was perfectly decent. And since when did she give a flying witch about decent?

Unconsciously pushing a bit of her hair out of her face and straightening it, she stepped out from the brush as though she hadn't just been staring at him as he bathed and didn't stop until she reached the edge of the water.

Chuck stood up quickly then, jerking his head back and sending water everywhere as he smoothed his hair away from his face. As he turned, he caught sight of her immediately and spat water out of his mouth. "Oh. Hello. Uh, g'morning. I was just…"

She sensed a bit of a blush on his cheeks as his voice petered out.

"It feels wonderful, doesn't it?"

"I…" His features crumbled a bit in confusion.

"The water. Fresh and, er, crisp."

"Oh! Yes. Indeed. It's…very fresh. And crisp."

Sarah was very careful not to let her eyes drop from his face to his chest that was positively glistening with water, the morning sun hitting his torso in just the right way. …Well, she was careful not to look more than once.

"I woke up and you weren't there so I wanted to make sure you were…somewhere."

"Oh! Well…I'm somewhere. I-I mean, I'm here. Right now. As you can see." She could see him gulp from where she stood. "I wanted to wash off. I don't much fancy the idea of getting into Monterrey covered in dirt and blood, and having it be a high class city filled with genteel Mexican folk. I figure it's best if we don't stand out."

"Astute."

"Yes, I thought so. Unfortunately our friend doesn't seem to be on the same page as we are."

"He rarely is."

He laughed at that and something in her chest did a strange little dance. Whatever nerves or embarrassment he'd experienced upon her first arriving there seemed to disappear then, and he stepped back, leaning so that the water fell over his head and down his shoulders and chest this time.

Sarah winced and looked away again, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.

But then when she looked back at him again, he was a few feet off the ground, clinging to the face of the rock wall, getting pelted by the water. "What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, dashing along the water's edge to be as close as possible without going in. "You're going to break your neck!"

But he ignored her, grinning like a madman as he snagged a vine, tested its strength with a quick tug, and used it to hoist himself up into a moss covered cave that was naturally carved into the face behind the wall of water. Chuck stuck himself through the rivulets of water falling in front of the cave and waved for her to join him. "Come up here," he called out.

"What? No! You're mad!"

"If I could climb this, you absolutely can."

"Do you have any idea how you're going get down from there?" She put her hands on her hips, the harsh governess tone in her voice fading at seeing the glee in him as he continued beckoning him up into his waterfall cave. Was it even big enough for two people, she wondered?

"No, but I will figure it out when I need to get down."

She couldn't help giggling, shaking her head.

Then she shot a look over her shoulder. Casey was probably still asleep, after all. And if her trousers and shirt got wet, so be it. They would be walking most of the day against the base of the mountain and the sun would be on them. They would be dry by the time they got into the city tonight.

"Sarah, I assure you, you are missing something spectacular." She looked up at his grinning face, musing on how ridiculous he looked poking through the waterfall.

So much was wrong with her life, with this crooked, twisted world full of greed and selfishness. She spent her existence looking over her shoulder, waiting to make that one mistake that ended up with her being killed. Chuck was in danger. Bryce was running from some sort of terrifying but mysterious cult. Everything was a mess.

But she wasn't thinking about any of that as she yanked her boots and stockings off, rolling her trousers up to above her knees, shrugging out of her coat, and ignoring the chill in the morning air to wade into the water like she had the night before.

As she got up to the rock face, Chuck grabbed onto the vine and pushed it closer to her. "Use this!" he called down to her.

Rolling her eyes, she rolled her sleeves up, flipping her braid out of the way and ignored the vine. The rocks were much more slippery than Chuck had led on with how easily he'd climbed them, but she managed to get close enough for the toymaker to curl his strong fingers around her bicep and do most of the rest of the work to hoist her into the cave.

She squealed and laughed as she went through the water, spitting out what had gotten in her mouth along the way and pushing her hair out of her face, feeling absolutely giddy as she looked around.

"This is quite the grand abode, Mr. Bartowski," she got out through her gleeful chuckles. "However do you afford it?"

"Casey doesn't know it but I've been sneaking into his house and stealing his candles to sell on the side." She burst into laughter, unconsciously leaning forward into his chest in their close quarters. "You'd be surprised how much people are willing to pay for them."

It was only then that she realized just how close they were, the sound of the water spilling over the mouth of the cave so melodious, their heavy breaths echoing around them.

Her laughter died out and she moved back as subtly as she could, tucking her back against the rock wall behind her and pulling her legs up, hugging them to her chest tightly. She was still smiling as she watched the water fall outside of the little cave, the way the world seemed to be dancing on the other side.

As she snuck a glance at the toymaker, she saw that he'd moved to lean against the opposite wall, his legs splayed out towards the mouth of the cave, looking more relaxed and at peace than she thought she'd ever seen him. Even before he knew about the Intersect, before he knew the truth about her.

"I wish I could take this with me," he finally said, and her smile dimmed a tad, the wistfulness in his voice making her feel slightly melancholy. "Everywhere," he added.

"I know what you mean," she replied.

She looked away again and felt his gaze on her profile.

"I don't know," he continued. "I suppose it just feels like nobody would ever find me here. Not the IEL, not IBoMaD, not that cult Bryce discovered, not the patrols, or even my customers…anyone who ever wished me harm ever in my entire life. None of them can touch me in here. Or, at least, that's how I feel. I know it's ridiculous."

"No, I understand," she said immediately. "Not even the bloody Queen could find us here."

He let out a huff in amusement and she met his gaze. His hair was wild, sticking up everywhere, the curls especially curly as they were wet. His body was lacking in the tenseness it usually had, that expressive brow of his without the furrow of pain, both physical and emotional.

And the way he'd just grabbed onto the rock face and hoisted himself up into this cave, with complete abandon…It was incredibly adventurous and she hated herself for being so surprised by it. His was an amusing character, of course, with a sense of humor that was better than anyone's. He was easygoing, absolutely. But being a man who'd grown up in a city like Los Angeles, living in an orphanage throughout his childhood and teen years, having to work for his scraps, being a self-made man, running the Buy More singlehandedly, Chuck Bartowski just seemed like he wouldn't have the adventurous thread in him. Playing in the streets as a child, using his imagination to think up fairy tale scenarios, was one thing. But actually acting on such an honestly foolish whim just didn't fit him.

She'd been wrong.

And again, she was struck by how often this inventor kept her on her toes.

She watched as his eyes drifted shut, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks, and she followed suit, gently laying her head back against the rock.

"Do we have to find Marta Ruiz?" he asked suddenly, breaking the peaceful, comfortable silence.

She kept her eyes shut. "Yes, I think we do."

"Why?"

"Because she might know more about all of this than we do. Depending on how close she is with Bryce."

She heard him sigh and she opened her eyes, watching him closely as he stayed with his own eyes shut. "I don't know Bryce anymore. Not like I did when we were just boys. So take this with a grain of salt, but Bryce Larkin has never been one to spill his guts, as it were."

He finally opened his eyes and looked back at her. She wondered what he would do if he was aware of the way she'd been looking at him. She wasn't even sure how she'd been looking at him. But she was careful to smooth her features before he caught her. Because in this small little cave, with the way he wasn't wearing a shirt, and the way her shirt was white, wet, and clinging to her body, she wasn't sure she would want to stop whatever might happen if he knew. And she wasn't sure it wouldn't ruin everything if that happened.

"Even when we were young, and I mean very young, just out of diapers practically," he chuckled, obviously unaware of the direction her thought had gone in, thank the gods, "he barely spoke to anyone, not even me. I would rattle on and on and on about everything I could think of, even if it didn't make sense, which was…often," he chuckled again and she gave him a closed mouth smile. "I never knew how he'd even ended up there. I mean, what happened to his parents. He never told any of us. So while, like I said, I don't know him anymore, I'm sure he's even less forthcoming now than he was back then, when he wasn't an agent with the Imperial Espionage League."

"You're probably right," she said. "But Bryce is a man with very few allies he can trust, really trust. And if Casey's general is right about Bryce and this Marta woman training as cadets together and even being involved in a romance, they've known each other for quite some time."

He nodded his head once, slowly, acquiescing to her theory. "Yes. True. I hope this all doesn't lead to nothing. I know he's trying to lead everyone on a wild goose chase, and he's succeeding," he chirped, raising his eyebrows, "and I know he's trying to keep me safe with all of this, you know, by staying far away from me. But part of me wants to find him."

She hadn't been expecting that at all. And she was sure it showed on her face. She sat up a bit. "Why?"

"I know, it would probably lead everyone to me. But the thought of this, all of this, being the rest of my life…" He sighed. "It just makes me tired. If Bryce and I were in the same place again, we could…I don't know…finish this, perhaps."

She sat in silence with him for a few moments, and then she leaned closer to put a hand on his shin, squeezing so that he met her gaze in their little sanctuary. "One way all of this might end is that you're killed, Chuck. Or taken back to Langley and hooked up to machines like…like an animal. However long they let you live in that capacity, that'd be the rest of your life." She winced, hating how dark and pessimistic she'd sounded, considering it was his life and freedom she was talking about.

He ducked his chin, then nodded. "I know. But at least I'd have a chance to fight it on my own terms. Maybe." He was frustrated then as he shook his head with a huff. "I don't know. I have no idea what would happen, or what chance I'd have. I'm probably just being naive. Like always."

"Sometimes being naive isn't a bad thing."

Sarah was almost surprised by how immediate and vehement it was as she said it. But he needed to know that what he was wasn't a bad thing. It was extraordinary, even if it didn't particularly fit into the way the world was. Even if it opened him to hurt sometimes, even if it made him vulnerable to those who'd take advantage.

"It isn't?" he scoffed, picking at the moss by his knee.

"No. The world could use at least someone looking at it like it isn't a cause that's completely lost. Lord knows everyone else sees it that way. Everyone going through the movements of living their lives like they're machines. Just here to survive. No one lives anymore. And here you are, Chuck Bartowski, not only seeing beauty and light in places overlooked by everyone else, but creating something that sees things with fresh, new eyes, the way you do." The dreamy look on his face as he listened to her wrinkled in question and she smiled. "Morgan. He's not even human. He's an android, but he's always just brimming with life in a way most human beings aren't these days."

She couldn't even voice how important the realization was to her. Not only was Chuck himself giving her a reason to see things in a different, more open way, he'd built an android that made her laugh, asked questions, made her feel something she hadn't felt in years…hope.

"I'm not wearing a shirt, Sarah Walker, and it'd be entirely inappropriate, so-so I won't, but I need you to know that I'd like nothing more than to wrap my arms around you and hold you tighter than I've ever held anyone or anything in my life." The way he said it, his voice deep and crackling, so matter-of-fact and without even a smidgeon of shyness, she nearly threw everything out of the window, so to speak, and pounced at him.

Instead she employed every ounce of resistance she had and just smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment, Chuck. All of it."

Especially the fact that even thought he apparently wanted to do it, he held back. It was a level of respect that felt simply unheard of. And it was precious to her.

"We should probably get back to the camp before Major Casey thinks we've been abducted by our old friends from the crash site." She felt an ache in her chest at the way her words seemed to almost hurt him. She agreed with the sentiment completely. She wanted to stay here forever and just look at him, bask in the warmth of having him with her.

"You're right." He sat up and sighed, pushing his hands through his hair so that she could watch the way the muscles in his upper back and shoulders flexed. She didn't bother diverting her gaze this time. He wasn't looking anyhow.

"I'll go first," he said then, and he scooted to the mouth of the cave and stuck his hand out. "The sun is up proper, now, and it feels warmer out there."

"That is good news."

He beamed back over his shoulder at her, and the scars, the ones that made a rigid, horrific pattern across his tan skin, were suddenly a lot clearer, even with them facing away from the light streaming in. She forced a smile at him anyway as he carefully crawled into the water, snagging the vine and swinging out of sight.

She hurried to the mouth herself and glanced out to see him scramble back down into the water safely. He looked up and met her gaze, reaching up and waving her down after him.

In spite of being right there, he let her climb down on her own. She felt his presence behind her, under her, and knew his hands were out and ready. But he didn't touch her.

And as he shrugged back into his shirt and vest, leaving them untucked for now as he pulled his jacket back on, she put her own coat on and unrolled her trousers.

Together, boots in hand, they trudged up to the path and walked in comfortable silence back to the camp. Chuck's shoulders weren't tense, his movements loose and his step lively almost, energized. A silly part of her wondered if the waters they were leaving behind had some sort of otherworldly property to them. Perhaps they were healing waters? A fountain of youth?

She giggled silently to herself and smirked down at her feet as they finally reached the spot where they'd slept the night before.

Casey was still fully asleep, having not even budged from when she left him. But at least he wasn't snoring anymore.

She was going to wake him up, but Chuck held out a hand, going so far as to touch her upper arm lightly. She stilled and watched as he crept closer to the bounty hunter.

The con woman could only hope that whatever he had planned didn't end up with him being strangled or punched.

As the inventor stooped down beside the sleeping giant, he reached down to gently grasp the corner of the folded map Casey had tucked into his vest pocket, easing it out as slowly and as carefully as possible, wincing as he did so.

When he got it out, he gave Sarah a celebratory look that made her shoulders bounce in amusement, and then he went back to his pack, fishing around in it until he pulled a pencil out. He opened the map then and she moved to kneel across from him, watching as he scanned the map.

"Here," he whispered, drawing an "X" at the base of the mountain they were traveling against. In fact, the "X" was generally on the spot where they were currently. She looked up and caught his eye, furrowing her brow in curiosity. He smiled. "Just making sure I don't forget where this is. Maybe we can come back sometime…after everything…when things are simpler."

She couldn't read him, even as she felt a heat deep in the pit of her stomach, her heart thudding against her ribcage. And Sarah wondered if he knew, like she did, that in spite of the mark he made on the map, they weren't coming back here. The future was too uncertain, their fate too uncertain. And she wondered how often he thought all of this might end with, well, him ending.

How often did this inherently sweet man think about his own death now that he had the Intersect in his head? Something she thought he'd probably not dwelled on much before.

It filled her with an almost overwhelming sadness and anger, all at once. It was almost a fury. And then when it ebbed, there was only bitterness. She smiled through it, nodding in answer finally.

She didn't trust her voice.

}o{

Sarah stepped back just in time as a horse and wagon plowed past her, just narrowly avoiding being run over. She supposed that served her right for stepping into a paved street without looking. The traffic was heavy, horses with wagons, horses with buggies, men on horseback, sitting proudly atop their beasts, wearing chaps over their trousers and clean jackets with large silver buttons, their dark mustaches bushy and coming to points that tilted upwards. Atop their heads, they wore wide-brimmed hats of felt or straw.

Chuck fit in well enough with his dark curls pressed down under a bowler cap. She'd had both Chuck and Casey wash their clothes in a creek before meeting with civilization again, so his suit was at least clean and dry, even if a bit wrinkled.

Casey wore his own hat low over his face, ignoring the flirtatious looks some of the women dressed in fine gowns and holding parasols sent him as he walked past. The con woman didn't understand what was happening there one bit.

For her part, she changed into a long grey skirt with a light pattern that went to an inch or two above the floor, her boots beneath the skirt shined just in case someone happened to chance a look. Her blouse was a dusty black color, but she covered most of it and all of her vibrantly blond braided hair with a deep burgundy patterned rebozo she decided to buy upon first stepping into town. She didn't need anyone staring at her hair, and she didn't want them sticking out as strangers, not if they were trying to find Marta Ruiz.

"Why don't we just ask about the family to find out where they live? These seem like nice, helpful people," Chuck murmured to her out of the side of his mouth as they finally crossed the street safely in a group of other pedestrians.

"We don't want anyone knowing we're looking for her. I don't know the way this city works. I'm not familiar with the hierarchy or communication. We ask one question and it might make it's way to Marta by the end of the hour. She'd be gone before we got to her."

He sighed. "I'm not even all that familiar with the language, so I'll defer to you while we're here."

She smirked. As though he didn't always defer to her.

She fixed the rebozo over her hair a bit better and slung part of it over her shoulder.

"First thing we need ta do is git some'ere to sit down an' git a damn drink," Casey grumbled. "Hell, at this point, I'll buy."

"Done," Chuck said immediately.

Sarah pointed at a sign at the end of the next block that said SALÓN above the doors. "There's our watering hole. Let's go."

As they carefully crossed the street, Sarah felt Chuck tense a bit at her shoulder. She looked up at him and followed his gaze. There was a group of women standing at the corner. They wore their skirts long and loose blouses bunched up at the elbow, with straw hats that folded up at the front. But that wasn't what drew her attention. All four of them had rifles clutched in their hands and wore bandoliers criss-crossed over their chests. The one who looked to be the oldest in the group wore two pistols, one at each hip.

Sarah set a hand to Chuck's wrist. "Stop staring."

He faced forward again, gulping. "Who are they?"

"You've heard about the whisperings of a revolution, haven't you? You think the women are going to let the men do all the fighting?"

He met her gaze. "They're allowed to just walk around looking like they're going into battle?" She must have made a face because he held up his hands and turned to face her as they continued walking. "Not…Not because they're women. I mean, anyone who walks around with weapons out so visibly who aren't…law enforcement. That's what I mean."

Sarah gave him the benefit of the doubt and nodded. "Local police don't have any reason to bother with it. But if the leader of the country or someone from the Central American Union leadership were to pay a visit to Monterrey, I'm sure those women would either stay inside or venture into the streets without their weaponry. Government agents would be less lax, certainly."

They pushed their way into the saloon finally, and Sarah hung back a bit to let Casey take the lead. He was passably proficient in the Spanish language, though the Spanish he spoke sounded like it didn't belong in Mexico. Spain, perhaps. She inwardly winced as he ordered their drinks at the bar.

The barkeep stared at them a bit longer than made her comfortable, but he went to work fixing their beers, placing two small glasses of tequila down in front of Casey. The bounty hunter quickly grabbed one and knocked it back with one quick movement, gritting his teeth as he slammed the glass back down. "Tha's more like it," he murmured to Sarah.

There was a loud clatter behind them then and she spun to see what happened, her hand going to her hip where one of her knives was hidden, rolled in the waistband of her skirt, but a boy who looked to be maybe thirteen or fourteen had allowed a half full mug of beer to tip the tray he was carrying onto the floor, sending beer splashing everywhere, the mug breaking into three parts.

"Alonso!"

"Lo siento, señor!" The server knelt down to start picking up the pieces of the glass as one of the nearby customers cackled beneath his thick mustache, sticking a boot out and nudging at boy's hip just hard enough to tip him over.

His companions laughed as well as the server ignored the mocking, continuing to clean the mess.

Sarah put a hand on Chuck's chest as she saw him start to step forward. His altruistic nature needed to not get them noticed, and she hoped he understood that. He sagged back against the bar and she thought that meant he did.

The bartender was there then, grabbing the server by the collar of his button up and dragging him away once he picked everything up. The con woman watched as the bartender leaned down and spoke to the boy quietly enough that she couldn't pick up what they were saying. And the boy's eyes then swept up and met hers. He looked away immediately and nodded at his boss, then scurried clear out of the saloon, the door slamming behind him.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, keeping her eye on the patrons behind her, first looking to the right, then to the left, and then she turned to face the door, watching the people passing the saloon by.

She heard Casey slam the second glass down and let out a long, satisfied sigh.

"Mexican tequila. Nothin' like it."

As they all turned back to the bar to enjoy their drinks, climbing up to sit on their respective stools to take a load off, Sarah lost herself in thought. Asking questions would only raise suspicion, so how exactly would they find Marta Ruiz?

The key was to find her before she found them. If she was a commodore in the Empire's Air Force, she wasn't one to be underestimated. And Sarah knew she wouldn't be the type to underestimate anyone else.

"Another?" the barkeep asked them in English. Sarah looked up at him and he must have noticed the questioning in her face, because he chuckled good-naturedly. "I can tell you are Americans. The money is Mexican but the accent of this one?" he pointed to Casey, "Not so good, eh?"

Casey grunted, shrugging and conceding the point."Americans fine with me, though." He held his hands up. "As long as they pay, eh?" Then he gestured to their empty mugs. "More to drink? Another tequila, señor?"

They all nodded and he grinned, grabbing their empty cups and moving away again. Sarah watched him closely, noticing there was a wet spot on crisp white uniform shirt between his shoulder blades. It hadn't been there when they first arrived. But it was there now. Why was he sweating now? Was he nervous?

And where was the server who'd dashed out of the saloon after the bartender spoke to him? He'd been gone for almost…she glanced at her pocket watch…twenty-five minutes.

Casey threw back the tequila the barkeep brought over without even letting the fellow put it down first. With a bit of a twitchy smile, he handed her and Chuck their new mugs of beer and stepped back, watching them. He really was sweating. Quite a bit.

Chuck picked up his mug and took a few long gulps of beer, letting out a long, "Ahhhhhh" and turning to smile at her. "You can't say Mexico doesn't have top notch b…beer…that's…that's funny, I…" He blinked a few times and swayed slightly.

Sarah frowned, then heard a loud and sudden thump behind her. She spun to see that Casey had slumped forward, banged his face on the bar, and was sliding off of the stool to the ground.

"Cas—"

There was another thump and she whipped around to find Chuck facedown on the bar, his beer tipped over, the puddle spreading.

"What in the hell is—?" She leapt from her seat, ready to clear the bar and take the bartender out, but she felt a sudden sharp pain at the back of her neck.

She was unconscious before she could utter even a single sound.

A/N: GAAAHHHHHHHHHHH you have no idea how much I wish I could've just kept them in that beautiful snug little cave behind the waterfall forever. They deserve that and more. And it hurts to take them away from those happy little pockets in this dark, scary world. It hurts me just like it hurts all of you, ugh. Being a writer is a CURSE.

More is coming soon. Please please please review. I know I'm not entitled to that, but it really helps. It does. Thanks, buddies!

-SC