A/N: I don't even own my own car, why would anyone think I could own Chuck?
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Lou said, "No, seriously. The brussel sprouts are delish. What did you do, Ellie?"
"Oh, you can't believe how easy it is. Roast them with maple syrup and then throw in toasted hazelnuts. Super easy."
"How much maple syrup?"
"A couple of glugs," said Ellie.
"What's a glug?" asked Morgan.
"You know," Ellie pantomimed pouring from a bottle and said, "Glug...glug...glug."
Everyone laughed, even Casey. He wouldn't have admitted it even under torture, but the truth was he really enjoyed this company, these people, this family.
His day had gradually been improving. Waking up to the news that that prick Larkin had escaped during transport to the detention facility wasn't a great start to the day. The son of a bitch was probably lost in the wind again, as he had been for the six months between going rogue and blowing up the Intersect. Well, figured Casey, somebody would cap his sorry ass eventually. No longer his problem, but he did hope he would get the chance to shoot him again. He'd aim for the head the next time.
It had gotten better from there. On the CIA plane back from New York, Walker had sought him out.
Perching her tush on the edge of the empty chair next to him, she said, "Case...when ...when we thought Bryce was a bomb, I thought I was going to die. I thought that was it, you know? I realized something. Something you were the first one to see. I do love Chuck. You were right. I love him like crazy."
Casey had grunted softly and said, "I wasn't the first one to see it, Sarah. Everyone who was at Union Station saw the same thing I did. I was just the first one to say it to you."
Sarah smiled, a little embarrassed, "No..."
"Yeah. Hell, I think Andric saw it and he was unconscious at the time," he smiled at her.
She swatted his arm and leaned forward to give him a little kiss on the cheek, "Thank you," she said softly.
"Don't mention it. No, I'm serious. Don't mention it," he said, sternly.
She left him alone and went back to her seat near Chuck, chuckling. Casey was pleased that she had finally gotten her head straight on the matter. It was about time.
Then he got home to Echo Park and began to cook the pies for that night's dinner, always a calming routine.
As he was putting on his tie for dinner, he heard a loud Ellie squeal all the way from the Bartowski apartment. He had smiled to himself, knowing that Sarah had just shared the good news with Ellie. That Ellie was one impressive lady, he thought. She'd make a great Marine.
"John, would you like more wine?" asked Ellie, with an extended wine bottle in her hand. Casey was jerked back to the present.
"Yes, thanks," he held out his empty wine glass and Ellie filled it with a full-bodied Cabernet from Francis Ford Coppola's winery, a gift to Ellie from Lou. "Good wine, Lou," said Casey.
"Yeah, it's yummy," said Lou.
Sarah said, "And don't forget the eggplant she made. That's great too."
Lou said, "Well, you told me you liked it, so I thought that would be a good side dish to bring."
"It's awesome, Lou," said Devon, "and let's not forget the Sweeney Potatoes that Morgan made. Those are great too."
"Totally. My boyfriend is a good cook," she said, giving his arm a little squeeze. "I would be having thirds of those, but I'm saving room for John's pies," said Lou.
Ellie said, "They won't disappoint. Apple and pecan. Soooo good."
"Hope so. They're warming in my oven. I'll bring them over as soon as we're ready. Chuck, did you get the cheddar cheese I suggested? It's great with the apple pie. Nice combo of sharp and sweet."
"Damn. I did, but I left it in the car. I'll be right back," Chuck said as he stood up.
Ellie said, "We'll start clearing in a minute."
"I'll be back in a jiffy," said Chuck, leaving the apartment.
He passed by the fountain on his way to the Nerd Herder, but...
Something wasn't right, thought Chuck. What was it? He stopped just past the fountain and looked around frowning. There. That shadow had the wrong shape. He started to turn to head back inside and alert Casey and Sarah that there was someone lurking in the courtyard.
"Hello, Chuck," said Bryce, stepping out of the shadows. He was well dressed and his hands were empty.
Chuck was surprised. Bryce should be halfway around the world by now. What in God's name was he doing here in Burbank? Coming to the very man who had tranked him last night?
"What are you doing here, Bryce? Come to kill me, maybe? After all, you threatened to do that only.." Chuck turned his wrist and moved his sleeve up so he could glance at his watch, "... twenty hours ago."
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At the dinner table, Sarah and Casey became tense at the same time and the smiles left their faces. They looked up at each other and held the gaze. Casey pushed his chair back and laid a hand on the table, preparing to stand. Without letting her hand leave the table, Sarah raised a palm up slightly, telling him to hold on and wait. He nodded once, but didn't take his eyes from her's.
Morgan, Lou and Devon didn't notice the non-verbal exchange.
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"Of course not, Chuck. You know I wouldn't hurt you."
"Gotta be honest, Bryce. I don't know that at all. I don't think I know you anymore. What the hell, dude?"
"Is this your place?" asked Bryce.
"You really have to ask that? I mean, isn't that why you are here? It's not like you randomly stopped someplace on your way to China or wherever the hell you were going, right?"
"Yeah, you're right. I came looking for you. For you and Sarah."
"What do you want, Bryce?"
"I need to talk to Sarah. Can you bring her to me? Without Casey."
"Why would I want to help you?"
"Because of Fulcrum. They are after the Intersect. They are after you," Bryce lied.
"Well, then. Thanks for putting a bullseye on my back, buddy. I know I can always count on you," said Chuck.
"It's not like that, I..."
Chuck sighed, but he had come up with a plan. "You know what, Bryce? You want to talk to Sarah. Fine. Let's do that. See that window?" Chuck pointed. "It's open. Head in there and wait for her. I'll send her in to talk to you. Be patient. It may take a few minutes."
Bryce clapped Chuck on the shoulder and said, with a smile, "Thanks. I knew I could count on you."
Chuck watched him disappear through the window and said aloud, "Be there in a minute." He went into Casey's apartment. There was a wall of weapons which opened with a handprint scanner disguised as a picture of a sailboat. Chuck put his right hand on the picture and the wall opened. Chuck took two weapons, checked them quickly and tucked them under his shirt. He closed the wall and left Casey's apartment.
He ran quickly to the car and collected the cheddar cheese.
Reentering his apartment, he saw them clearing the plates from Thanksgiving dinner. He gave a nod to Sarah, who nodded back. Looking at Casey, he gestured with his head toward the kitchen. Casey joined him there. When they were alone, he pulled the weapon from his belt and handed it to Casey.
"I'll stay in the hallway. You in the courtyard. That way, whichever way he tries to leave, one of us can take him," said Chuck.
"A trank gun? Forget it, Bartowski. You go the non-lethal route if you want. I'm going to kill the bastard."
"Oh, yeah. Cause that worked out so well the last time. Come on, Case. Don't you want to hear what he has to say?"
Casey thought for a moment and said, "Ok. Good point." He took the trank gun from Chuck and tucked it under his jacket. "Shoot for the face. He might be wearing a vest."
"But what if you shoot him in the eye?" asked Chuck.
"Yeah. Don't do that. The drug would be confined to the eyeball and wouldn't get into the bloodstream," replied Casey.
"No, Case. I meant you might blind him," said Chuck, a little grossed out by Casey's warning.
"Hummm. Oh, yeah. That too," said Casey with a shrug.
Casey announced that he was going to go get the pies.
"Take your time, John. We can let the rest of the meal digest for a while. We'll wait for you," Ellie said with a smile.
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In the hallway in front of his room, Chuck reached behind Sarah and touched her weapon at her back, just to reassure himself that she was armed. He whispered, "Be careful in there."
Sarah whispered, "I will." She gave him a quick kiss.
Sarah walked into the room, but there was no sign of Bryce. He stepped out of the closet behind her.
"You're getting rusty," he said to her.
"Bryce, I have a gun. Do I need to use it?"
"I'm unarmed," he lied. "And I'm sorry."
"Why shouldn't I arrest you right now?"
"Because I'm not a rogue spy. Because the Intersect was a mission. Because, Sarah, you're still in love with me." He stepped forward and took her in his arms and kissed her.
She was so shocked she just stood there for a second or two, her hands resting on his shoulders.
Chuck, outside the door to the bedroom, thought, "Uh, oh."
Her mind rebooted and clicked into gear with her body. She shoved him backwards with surprising power. He stumbled a bit as he tried to regain his balance. She stepped forward quickly, before he had recovered, and slapped him viciously across his face. In a harsh whisper, she said, "Get your fucking hands off me, you goddamn animal. What the fuck is the matter with you? Don't you ever fucking touch me again. You think you can just waltz back in here after everything that's happened? That everything is going to be the same as it was? You fucking moron, things don't work that way. I am so past you...and I never loved you, you asshole. Goddammit...I loved you?" The last phrase said with disbelief. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Jesus, you are such an asshole."
Bryce was rubbing his cheek where she had slapped him. This wasn't going at all how he had planned. He took a deep breath and said, "Ok. I get it. You're mad. I get it. I can explain though. I know things won't go back to normal right away, but when you hear what I have to say, you'll forgive me. Then we can be together again, Sarah. The Andersons."
"Together? You don't get it do you? I'm not going to be with you anymore. Ever. I'm with Chuck now. He's my guy."
"Well, that makes sense," he said placatingly. "He's the Intersect and you would have to protect him. Girlfriend is a great cover for a protection..."
"No, not a cover. For real. He's my real boyfriend. I love him and he loves me. For real."
Bryce was in shock and could scarcely believe what he was hearing from Sarah. Sarah Walker was in love with Chuck Bartowski? "What? For real? With Chuck? No way..."
Bryce thought she had been angry before, but at his assumed dismissal of Chuck, she went thermonuclear. He didn't think he had ever seen someone this mad. She was red in the face, had her fists clenched, and was trembling with rage. She stepped forward as if she was stalking prey. He stared at her wide eyed in astonishment. Unconsciously, he took a step or two backwards and raised his hands in defense.
"WHAT? YOU'RE SURPRISED? YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT, BRYCE. CHUCK IS A BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN YOU EVER WERE. HE'S A BETTER PARTNER THAN YOU. FUCK. YOU ASSHOLE, HE'S JUST A BETTER MAN THAN YOU ARE. A MUCH, MUCH BETTER MAN. AND I LOVE HIM. HE'S MY GUY. HE'S MY CHUCK." She was screaming at him in a harsh whisper.
He moved his raised hands defensively and said, "Whoa, whoa. I didn't say otherwise..."
She said, breathing heavily but in a marginally less furious tone, "You underestimated him, didn't you?"
Bryce looked at her and shook his head softly, still trying to digest what he'd just heard. He said, "No. Actually, I didn't. I might be one of the few people who never did. But I underestimated you, Sarah. I underestimated you."
They heard Morgan yelling, "Hey, Chuck. Sarah. Stop making out. Come on back. We have a table to clear." The voice was laughing and coming closer.
They heard Ellie say sharply, "No, Morgan. Stay here. Let them be. They'll be back soon enough."
Bryce looked up with urgency. "Look, we really have to talk. About business, not...us." He moved to the window. "I'll talk to you after dinner, when we won't be interrupted. I'll be outside. Please. You have to hear what I have to say."
Bryce climbed out the window. Sarah heard the hiss of a trank gun, and thought she heard Bryce's voice murmur disgustedly, "Awww, not again." Then there was a soft thud as his body hit the ground.
Casey's voice came into their ears, "Got him. This day has just been getting better and better."
"Good," said Sarah with satisfaction, leaving the room to head back to dinner.
In the hallway, Chuck asked her "Can I get you your wine?"
She was still breathing through her nose like she had run a race, her hands shaking a little bit. "No...vodka...after I brush my teeth," she stormed down the hallway towards the bathroom.
He said, "Case, you need help carrying Bryce?"
"Naw, I got this, kid. You help clear the table for dessert. I'll come back with the pies."
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Chuck was finishing a second slice of Casey's excellent pecan pie and contemplating having some more of the apple pie for breakfast tomorrow morning. Casey had been right about the apple pie with cheddar cheese, it was a great combination.
But he knew they should really go deal with Bryce. Once Morgan and Lou had left for the evening, they excused themselves and went to Casey's apartment.
Bryce was laid out on a table, his arms and legs handcuffed to its four legs. He had duct tape over his eyes and mouth. His hands were covered with clingy plastic wrap, so he couldn't use his fingers. He had been stripped to his shorts.
His clothes were draped over a nearby chair. On the counter next to him was a pile of weapons and spy gear Casey had taken from him. Weapon, vest, knives, handcuff keys, assorted gadgets and tools.
Casey said, "He was loaded for bear. He even had a handcuff key glued into his hair." Casey gestured to Bryce and, speaking to Sarah, said, "Give him a check. You'll know what to look for."
She nodded.
Chuck looked at the pile of gear on the counter. He wrinkled his nose with distaste when he saw a bloody bandage among the items. He looked up and down Bryce's body but didn't see a wound on him. Many scars, but no wound.
Casey saw his expression and said, "Gross, right? You don't want to touch it, huh?" Casey flipped the bandage over to show Chuck the underside. Glued underneath were a handcuff key and a razor blade. "Yeah, that's just what he was counting on."
Sarah was studying Bryce's nearly naked body dispassionately. Eventually, she reached out and, with a fingernail, began to scrape at the bottom edge of a particularly large scar on the outside of Bryce's thigh. To Chuck's astonishment, the scar came loose from the skin beneath it. When she had dislodged enough of the scar to grab, she took it in two fingers and peeled it off. Glued to the underside of the fake scar was a handcuff key, a tension wrench, and two lock picks with differently shaped heads. She dropped it onto the pile of gear Casey had already taken off Bryce.
She said, "The other scars I can see are real."
"Ok. I'll call it in now," said Casey. "Let this asshole get tucked in someplace safe. Looks like we won't have to go to New York for the interrogation. We can do it right from home."
"Case, before you call it in, maybe we should hear what he has to say," said Chuck.
"We will. When he's safely in a cell someplace," said Casey.
Bryce made a negative noise through his taped mouth and shook his head no. Chuck said, "I tranked him last night, and he still sought us out, guys. He could have been in the wind, like he was since March, halfway to China by now, but instead he came here to talk to us. Maybe we should hear what he has to say before we drop him in a cell. Can't hurt. He told Sarah he wasn't rogue. He said we have to hear what he had to tell us." Casey made a scoffing noise. "I'm just saying that maybe we should listen to him. There's some reason he escaped from the CIA and then came directly to us."
"Chuck's right, Case. It can't hurt to listen," said Sarah. Bryce made an affirmative noise through his nose and nodded his head.
"Ok," he said, "but then we call it in." He reached out to rip the tape from Bryce's mouth.
"Hold on a second, Case. There's something I want to do first." She reached out and ripped the tape from Bryce's eyes, taking some of his eyebrow hair with it. He winced and blinked in the sudden light. After a moment his eyes focused on them.
She said, looking at Bryce, "Ok. Case, turn around."
Casey saw the look in her eyes and knew what she had in mind. He said, "Naw. I'm going to take off my suit. Call me when I can come back." Humor sparkled in his eyes.
She smiled a tiny smile and said, never taking her eyes off Bryce, "Will do." Once he left, she reached for Chuck and said, "Come here."
He stepped towards her, not really too sure what was happening. That's when she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. The kiss, well actually a long series of kisses, was as passionate as they had ever shared. At first Chuck was uncomfortable, knowing Bryce was there and watching. Then he forgot that Bryce was in the room. Then he forgot his name. Then he forgot to breath. Eventually, she broke the kiss. She also seemed a little discombobulated and stared into his eyes for a few moments before saying, "I love you."
Nuzzling her a little, he said, "I love you too."
She called out, "Ok, Case. It's safe to come back."
Bryce was staring at her, at them both, with wide eyes. He clearly understood her message to him. Any hope he'd had for a resumption of his relationship with Sarah withered and died. Whether it would stay dead was another question entirely, of course.
Casey came back and they ripped the tape from Bryce's mouth. Bryce said, "Thanks. Listen, can I get up and have this conversation with pants on?"
"No," Sarah and Casey said at the same time.
"Ok. Ok. I'm not a rogue spy. The Intersect was a mission. I was recruited by an outfit called Fulcrum. A special access group inside the CIA. They knew who I was. My activation codes, my record. They ordered me to shed by Agency contacts and go deep. Only then did I realize it was an internal strike, to download and destroy the Intersect. Fulcrum had plans for its intel."
"Why should we trust you, Bryce?" asked Sarah.
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Sarah. I didn't know who to trust."
"Why Chuck?" she asked.
"Yeah, why Chuck?" asked Chuck
"I needed a friend who wasn't a spy. Who wouldn't know anything about Fulcrum or the Intersect or Sand Wall."
Chuck flashed on the words 'Sand Wall'. File cabinets. Fulcrum. Top Secret briefing memoranda. Sand Wall. The mission to infiltrate the Intersect facility. They had all seen him flash and waited to see what he had to say, "I just flashed on Sand Wall. That was the name of the Intersect mission. Well, looks like you're telling the truth about that part, anyway."
"It's all true, Chuck. I'm not rogue."
"How are you alive?" asked Casey.
"I don't know how they did it, if that's what you're asking. They used one of the European clinics probably. Scandinavia or Russia. I don't know for sure."
"But you know why they did it," said Sarah.
"Yeah," said Bryce.
"Well should we pop some popcorn or can I just beat the answer out of you?" asked Casey.
"No. I'll talk," said Bryce, with a bit of a sneer.
"Damn it," said Casey.
"You know the first part already. I downloaded the Intersect intel and blew up the computer. Raced out of the facility and then I ran into you, Casey. You shot me. I'm on the ground. No white light, just you staring down at me. And then things went black. But then I was brought back. I was in an ambulance, I think. They weren't trying to save me. This was a Fulcrum team. They wanted something. Delgado was there. He asked me where the Intersect files were. He threatened to let me die again. I told him I saw them. That I saw the files. I told him they were in me. I told them I was the Intersect."
"They think you are the Intersect?" asked Chuck.
"Yeah. That's why I need your help."
"We're gonna help you?" asked Casey with disbelief.
"I need to turn myself into the CIA. But Fulcrum has operatives everywhere. In every agency."
"You just escaped from the CIA, asshole. Now you want to turn yourself in? What the fuck?" said Casey.
"That's the thing, Casey. Fulcrum is everywhere. I'm sure they were trying to get to me in Brooklyn. I wasn't safe there. I need to know that I'm being handed over to the real CIA, not Fulcrum operatives. That's why I came to you, to all three of you. You are the only two agents I know for sure are not Fulcrum. You've been vetted by Chuck, by the Intersect. That's why I need Chuck. He can identify Fulcrum agents. If he flashes on the agents that come to get me, we'll know they're Fulcrum," said Bryce.
"Nope, sorry, buddy," said Chuck
"Chuck, I need your help," said Bryce in a wheedling tone. "Please. You're the only one who can do this."
"I'd be happy to help you get to the 'real' CIA," Chuck said with air quotes. "The problem is that you don't know how the Intersect works. Or doesn't work, actually. You've been assuming that I can identify Fulcrum agents on sight. I can't. The flashes of intel I get are essentially random. I'm practically living with Casey and I haven't flashed on him once. We ran into a Fulcrum guy just a few weeks ago. I never flashed on him either. There's no rhyme or reason as to when I will and won't flash. And no comfort to be had that whoever we turn you over to is or is not Fulcrum. No good, Bryce. The Intersect just doesn't work that well. We need a different plan."
"Well, it seems to me that you need to talk to Graham," said Sarah. "We can trust him and he has to hear your story."
"Ok," said Bryce. "But I can't get to him safely. That's the problem."
"Leave that to me," said Sarah.
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Graham sat on a chair in the kitchen, his two year old granddaughter on his lap. He was making faces at her to make her laugh. His wife Anna was sitting on the kitchen floor, helping their seven year old grandson make a pirate ship out of Legos. It was way past the children's bedtime, but dinner had run late and their parents didn't seem to mind. His son Kevin, his daughter Karen, and Kevin's wife Michelle (called Mickey by everyone who knew her) were across the room doing the dishes from Thanksgiving dinner. Graham had eaten more than he should have, especially the second slice of pie with the ice cream, and was in a bit of a food coma. More time on the treadmill tomorrow, he thought.
He had three cell phones on the kitchen table next to him. One of them began to ring. He was surprised. Only four people in the world had that number, one was sitting at his feet, two were doing dishes, and the other one...
He picked up the phone and said, "Sarah?"
"Hi," she said.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm sorry to use this number, but when you hear what I have to say you'll understand why I didn't want to use your normal phones."
"Ok."
"Bryce Larkin is here in Burbank with me and my team."
"Sh...ugar. What's up?" he asked, handing his granddaughter to his wife.
"He's got a story to tell about Fulcrum. Chuck flashed and confirmed at least a part of the story. Bryce says he bolted from Brooklyn because Fulcrum's infiltration is so pervasive that he couldn't trust anyone and couldn't safely remain in custody. I think you will want to hear this yourself. Can you come out here tomorrow? If what he says is right it's probably not safe to move him around too much." Graham had walked into the empty dining room from the kitchen while Sarah explained.
"It's that bad, huh?" he asked.
"Maybe. I haven't heard it all yet, but maybe. That's why I want you to hear it yourself...in person,"
"Ok. I'll be there in the morning your time. If I leave here at the crack of dawn I ought to get to you around 10 or 11. I'll let Beckman know."
"Good. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Sarah. Be careful. I know you were close to him, but Larkin has still got to be considered a rogue agent until proven otherwise."
"I will be. Good night. Love to...to the family."
"Right. G'night, Sarah." He disconnected the call.
He sighed. So much for the treadmill.
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A/N2: Come on, now. None of you who've been with me for a while believed the Bryce/Sarah conversation in Chuck's room was going to go remotely like canon. What did you think? Commentary? Always happy to hear from you all. Coming up is an interlude before Graham arrives in Burbank. Each of our friends gets to spend some time alone with Agent Larkin. Wonder what they will have to say?