Chuck longed for the time when the only worries in his life involved computer viruses, controller chafe, and Harry Tang. He felt it was a little cruel to add in government secrets and exploding NSA doctors when you considered how awkward and nerdy he was. And that was to say nothing of the fact that The Plan - as Chuck understood it - had hinged around the dead doctor removing the Intersect from his head. Which meant they had no plan. And, the whole no plan thing was nothing short of terrifying. Still, he took comfort in Bryce's promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to Chuck (and the sparkle in his eyes as Bryce added that he knew Kung Fu), and tried his very best to go about his workday.

A workday that, for some slight he must have made in a previous existence, involved teaching Casey customer service skills. At least Morgan was there to suffer with him. And Bryce was somewhere around, popping up every now and then in the corner of Chuck's vision as he strolled around the Buy More like he was scouting out the best spots for their upcoming Gotcha games. Chuck was also certain that he took great pleasure in appearing out of thin air around Tang just in time to give him the fright of his life.

Casey came striding up to Chuck, grabbing his arm and pinning him with a look that told him to listen up because this was some serious stuff he was about to say. "You can't trust Sarah," the NSA Major told him quietly, not once breaking his intense stare. "And watch your back around-"

"Chuck! John!"

Chuck, Casey and Morgan spun in unison, chorusing: "Big Mike!"

"How's customer service training?" Big Mike asked, some sugary baked good in his hand. They sounded off a vague positive agreement, Big Mike still looking unimpressed. "Good. The better my employees, the less I have to work."

"Very inspiring, sir," Chuck informed him.

"A regular call to arms," Casey agreed, only mildly sounding like he would cheerfully shoot him at the earliest opportunity.

Big Mike dismissed them, telling Chuck to make Casey better at his job and prove that he was worthy of the promotion to assistant manager.

.

Training Casey was, as Chuck had already said, nothing short of a punishment he felt he didn't deserve. He told him to be careful with the scanner, Casey reminded him he'd flown a stealth fighter. Chuck demonstrated how to use the scanner, Casey made a comment about screaming making him feel at home. Chuck tried to get on with his job, and Casey shoved the scanner under his chin.

Logically, Chuck knew that it wasn't possible for him to die by scanner, but somehow he didn't think a little thing like logic would get in the way of Casey inflicting bodily harm.

"I don't want you to have any more private meetings with Sarah," Casey stated, tone brooking no disagreement. "Or Larkin. Am I understood?"

"No. What? Why?" Chuck didn't understand. First Casey tells him not to trust Sarah and now he wasn't supposed to trust Bryce either? It didn't make sense. "Is this because of the doctor?"

"How do you know about the doctor?" Casey growled, digging the scanner deeper under Chuck's chin.

How did Casey think Chuck knew? ESP? "Bryce told me. You know? The guy you shot the last time you didn't trust him?"

As if knowing they were talking about him, Bryce came into view, leaning against one of the displays. He nodded to Chuck, raising a pointed eyebrow at Casey until the scanner was back safely on the counter. Chuck offered a half wave, feeling his phone vibrate with an incoming text in his pocket.

Casey's jaw jumped. "Fine," he growled, eyes boring holes into Bryce. "Private meetings with Larkin are allowed - as long as you have them in one of your apartments where I can keep an eye on you. I don't think I could stop the two of you anyway. But no one on ones with Sarah. Got it?"

Chuck nodded, holding up his hands. "Got it." And he meant it, honest he did. Until he got a look at the text message. It was from Sarah, asking him to meet her at the Wienerlicious. Chuck frantically searched for a way out of Casey's sight, falling on Bryce. "You know what would be great for your customer service skills, Casey? Role play!"

Casey looked as though he'd rather have his fingernails pulled out than do any such thing. "Bartowksi-"

"Morgan!" Chuck beckoned his friend over. "You're going to be a customer and Casey will be the sales rep he is. Practice some drills, really get into your roles. I'm gonna go talk to Bryce about some stuff for a bit and, yeah, it'll all be good."

Chuck moved towards the television wall, jerking his head in a way that he hoped Bryce would get as a request to follow him and not like he was having some sort of a fit.

Bryce appeared by his side, a concerned frown on his face. "Everything okay, buddy?"

"Mm-hmm, yeah. Of course. Everything is great. Wonderful. Why wouldn't it be wonderful? Do things not look great? It is obvious? It shouldn't be obvious. You know, because things are great. They're great. Great. I think I'm saying great a lot. Too much? Yeah."

Bryce just stood there, watching him with his head tilted a little and an amused smirk playing about his lips. "You still babble when you're nervous," he announced, crossing his arms. "Care to share? Or are you happy with all your run-on babbling?"

"I need your help."

Instantly Bryce lost all traces of playfulness. All Chuck could see was the scary competent superspy. He looked like he would leap tall buildings and go hand-to-hand with a squad if ninjas if Chuck only said the word. "Anything."

"Casey doesn't want me to see Sarah. Sarah wants me to go over to the Wienerlicious. I've got to meet her. But-"

"You want me to keep an eye on Casey and make sure he doesn't follow?"

Chuck sighed in relief, glad Bryce could still read him like a book. "Please."

Bryce looked delighted. "Always happy to ruin Casey's day a little."

"What is it with you two?" There were important spy things he knew he should be doing, but Chuck would be lying if he said he wasn't a little curious.

"Aside from the fact he shot me?" Bryce quirked a grin. "Tell you later. Maybe. Now go meet your girlfriend."

.

.

Five teenaged boys were standing in front of the counter, watching Sarah like she was their new Queen and they were humble worshippers. Chuck absently spared a thought for the increased sales the Wienerlicious would be bringing in, wondering if there was any way to send some of the customers the Buy More's way.

Sarah glanced around the shop, a frown on her lips. "You didn't bring Bryce?"

"You didn't say to," Chuck said slowly, trying to work out if his cover girlfriend was mad he hadn't brought her ex with him.

Sarah gave him a look that said she knew he was smarter than that. "I figured I didn't have to, the two of you seem joined at the hip since he arrived."

Chuck poked a thumb over his shoulder, grinning easily. "I can go get him if you like."

Sarah shook her head. "Just catch him up when you get back."

Chuck barely had time to frown slightly before Sarah announced that he shouldn't spend any private time with Casey. Which, not that Chuck was going to - of all his handlers, Casey was the one Chuck had the least in common with and the least motivation to spend time with - but he had thought that Sarah and Casey were somewhat friendly.

"What is it with you guys?"

"Did Casey say the same thing?" Sarah's eyebrows lifted. "Of course he did."

"Is there something wrong?" Chuck asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He was getting really tired of all the conflicting information. Trust Sarah, don't trust Sarah. Trust Casey, don't trust Casey. It was enough to give him a headache.

Sarah leaned over the counter, eyes serious. "The doctor from last night-"

"Was killed in an explosion last night, yeah," Chuck agreed, still not seeing why he shouldn't trust a combination of his handlers. "Bryce told me. What's that got to do with Casey?"

Sarah wordlessly slid a shell of a phone over towards him.

NSA incinerator. Really nasty.

"You think Casey killed the doctor?" Chuck glanced back across the parking lot to the Buy More. "Why would he do that?"

"He's an assassin, Chuck. It's what he does for a living," Sarah reminded him, blue eyes burning into his with a quiet sincerity. "He tried to kill us on that rooftop. He nearly killed Bryce. And he'll probably try to do both again. Maybe he was ordered to or maybe Zarnow just rubbed him the wrong way."

Chuck felt his old friend anxiety emerge, bringing it's best friend panic along for the ride. "That's great, Sarah," he uttered sarcastically. "What am I supposed to do?"

Sarah's stare was hard and uncompromising. "You go back to work and you pretend you know nothing," she ordered, as if Chuck wasn't panicking at the very thought of walking into the arms of a murderer. "And, if anything happens, Bryce will protect you."

"Okay," Chuck heard himself agree over the blood rushing in his ears.

He could do this. He could go back to work like nothing was wrong and he could trust Bryce not to get either of them killed. He could do that. Right?

.

.

Feeling like he was underwater, disconnected from reality, Chuck reentered the Buy More. By the CDs, Morgan was pulling out his best surfer bro routine and Casey was looking vaguely murderous. Morgan began rambling about the Ramones and Casey pushed him to the ground with barely a touch to his forehead.

Bryce emerged on Chuck's other side, a dry grin on his lips. "Your customer service skills are incredible, John," the CIA agent smirked.

Casey shrugged, eyes shrewd on Chuck. "I found him the Ramones, didn't I?"

"That approach isn't in the Buy More manual, Casey," Chuck sighed, catching Bryce's gaze and nodding infinitesimally towards Casey.

Casey seemed to read Chuck's conversation with Sarah in the slight widening of Bryce's eyes, turning on his heel and striding from the Buy More.

Under the guise of brushing some fluff of the shoulder of Bryce's jacket, Chuck leaned in and muttered "Zarnow was killed by an NSA incinerator" in Bryce's ear.

"Ghuy'cha'," Bryce cursed, Chuck echoing his sentiments exactly.

Morgan picked himself up off the floor, staring at Bryce like he couldn't believe his ears. "You speak Klingon?"

Bryce raised a single eyebrow. "You don't?"

"No," Chuck announced, stepping between his two best friends before more than scathing looks could be shared. "Morgan, you should get back to work. Bryce, you too."

Bryce flashed a playfully wounded grin. "You were more fun at Stanford."

Chuck chuckled, moving off towards the Nerd Herd centre. "No, you were just busier then."

.

.

Half an hour later, Chuck really wished he was back at Stanford having any manner of safe fun. Because being involved in another car chase and minor collision with Casey in a black SUV was really not his idea of a fun day out. Not only that, but he had left Bryce and Sarah behind him on his way to the fake call-out Casey had orchestrated. Which Chuck was beginning to realize had to be the universe's way of saying Chuck was not one of it's favourites. He was all alone, with an NSA trained assassin. Not a win for Team Bartowski.

Casey emerged from his SUV looking a little the worse for wear, accusing Sarah of attacking him and saying she'd gone rogue. Casey started making a whole lot of sense, starting with the NSA incinerator being a convenient black market item and ending with Sarah's inability to grab him because of Casey and then Bryce and Casey. His explanation was bookended with Sarah calling Chuck (to which Casey pointedly hung up) and the pair of them nearly getting blown up by - surprise, surprise - an NSA incinerator hidden in the back seat of Casey's SUV.

.

And, it turned out, getting nearly blown up wasn't even the worst part of Chuck's day. No. That dubious honour went to telling Bryce. His college best friend was waiting for him in the courtyard of their apartment complex, dressed down from his typical suit, seemingly trying to decide between two bottles of wine. He turned at the sound of Chuck's panicked footsteps, smile dropping at the sight of him.

"What happened?" Bryce demanded, eyes scanning him from head to toe.

"NSA incinerator," Chuck mourned, shaking ashes out of his hair.

"You nearly got blown up?!" Bryce whirled on Casey, emerging from a car just behind them, fingers stabbing into his chest. "What the hell were you doing?!"

"Nearly getting blown up myself," Casey retorted. "But I'm fine, thanks Larkin."

Bryce's eyes were burning with fire. He looked about ready to finish the incinerator's job for it. "I don't give a damn if you're alright, your job is to protect the Intersect. Chuck!"

Chuck put his hand out, touching the silk fabric of Bryce's deep blue shirt. "Bryce, buddy, you can tell at us all you like later, but Sarah-"

Bryce took a deep breath, calming himself enough to ask "What about her?"

"She's rogue and in my apartment with Ellie and Awesome."

Bryce deployed another vigorous Klingon curse, pushing Chuck towards his own apartment. "Looks like we're going to dinner."

.

.

Ellie, Awesome and Morgan were sitting around the kitchen island, drinking wine and smiling at Sarah when Chuck opened the door. For a brief moment, Chuck could almost forget that this wasn't a real family dinner he was sharing with his family from his two worlds. But, as soon as Sarah turned and smiled at him, he remembered it was all a lie. A very dangerous one.

Ellie smiled brightly at him, silently conveying her approval of his (fake) girlfriend. "Sarah is amazing, Chuck," Ellie announced, offering him a brief hug.

"I know, she's really something else," Chuck agreed, hoping he didn't look as crazed as he felt.

Behind him, Bryce cleared his throat, a quiet reminder for Chuck to keep his cool. "Thank you for inviting me, Ellie," he smiled, effortless charm bringing an equally warm smile to Chuck's sister's lips.

"I'm glad you came," she replied, scanning him critically. "I would have invited you earlier but Chuck said you needed some space." Chuck caught a glimmer of concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Better now I'm back in California," Bryce smiled, nudging Chuck who stopped internally making plans to drag them all out for dinner. Something told him Ellie would not appreciate that. "I've brought wine-"

"That he can't drink," Chuck cut in, self-imposed duty to aid Bryce's recovery flaring over his panic.

A flash of irritation crossed Bryce's face, his eyes locking onto Chuck's in a pointed reminder that he was a spy and had undoubtedly survived worse things than drinking wine after a bullet wound.

Chuck, however, wasn't about to back down. He might not be able to control rogue CIA assassins trying to kill him, and he certainly couldn't control whatever happened tonight at dinner, but he could ensure his other best friend didn't do anything stupid and ruinous to his health. Even if said best friend didn't appreciate it.

Ellie, Awesome and Morgan looked between the two of them, eyes narrowed as they tried to work out exactly what was going on. Ellie's eyes sparkled with dawning understanding, her mouth opening to say-

"I've brought quiche," Casey announced, bringing the attention away from Chuck and Bryce's stare down.

Bryce tore his gaze away from Chuck's, turning instead on Sarah in a manner that looked totally calm and polite and not at all a silent promise to stop her from doing anything to hurt the innocents at the table.

Sarah met his stare evenly, something like hurt shining deep in the tepid blue of her eyes. If Chuck didn't know better, he would swear she was promising Bryce and Casey that she wasn't rogue. But Chuck did know better. All the evidence pointed to her. And wasn't that going to make for a fun dinner?