Bartowski family game night was a tradition Chuck could remember participating in ever since, well, he was old enough to remember. Over the years they'd played Scrabble and Monopoly, Risk and Candyland, Pictionary and Charades, and everything in between. At Stanford, Chuck had altered the bi-weekly tradition to allow video games and Bryce Larkin, and that had been his Stanford tradition. When he graduated and moved in with his sister and her boyfriend, the tradition altered again - allowing Morgan and Devon entrance and opening the games to more couple orientated genres. And, now that Chuck was outwardly dating Sarah and Bryce was back in his life, Bartowski family game night was finally full of everyone Chuck considered family.
In honour of Sarah's inclusion into the tradition, Ellie had insisted on playing Know Ya! A game Bryce referred to as the unholy offspring of the newlywed game and a team bonding exercise from hell. Naturally, as the only real couple in the room, Ellie and Awesome were winning by a mile, excelling as the awesomest couple always did. Sarah and Chuck were not doing so awesome, and Morgan and Bryce both automatically picked Chuck for their own questions, so he was doing a lot better with them than he was with Sarah. Which was really not the greatest showing for a couple who had apparently been dating for several weeks now.
It would have been a much better showing for Team Charah if Morgan didn't take such perverse enjoyment in pointing out all the times Sarah didn't get quite the right answer. Like the Peaches debacle. And Chuck would be having words with Ellie soon about her little fib on the matter.
"Most humiliating childhood nickname," Morgan called, scribbling something on his paddle.
Chuck picked a piece off his pizza and grimaced at his friend. "I swore I'd never say it out loud."
Morgan beckoned with his hand, silently requesting that Chuck say it aloud.
"Okay," Chuck shrugged. "Organ."
Morgan made a circuit of the living room, avoiding the plates of pizza and showed the paddle to everyone. "Boom! That's what I'm talking about! What's it say? What's it say? Organ! Organ! Boom!"
"I'm not sure that's something you should be bragging about," Bryce commented, sipping at the tall glass of green juice Awesome had foisted at him upon arrival.
"I'm not in this game to brag," Morgan retorted, dropping back to the couch. "I'm in this game to win. Your turn, Accountant."
The CIA agent rolled the dice, picking up his allotted card. "Worst experience," Bryce read out, rolling his eyes.
Chuck watched as Bryce's expression grew shadowed and he rubbed out some writing before scrawling something else in it's place. Part of him wanted to know what in Bryce's past could cause such an expression, but he knew Bryce would never say.
Bryce took another sip of the juice, nose wrinkling. "Chuck?"
Chuck only knew of one thing that currently counted as the worst thing to happen in Bryce's life. "You got shot?"
Bryce, because he was always a little dorky when he was relaxed, grinned and made a finger gun. "I got shot," he agreed, turning his paddle around.
"And if you could try and make sure that never happened again, I'd be appreciative," Chuck commented, earning a far too common head shake from his friend.
"Roll the dice, 007," Bryce smirked, throwing the dice to Chuck.
Chuck picked up a card and groaned. Loudly. "Oh, come on!"
"What's it say?" Sarah asked, absently plucking olives off her slice of pizza.
"Most embarrassing moment," Chuck muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up as he grudgingly wrote out his answer.
"That time your swim trunks fell off in the school pool when we were nine?" Morgan guessed.
Chuck dropped his head into his hands. "No," he muttered, laughter echoing around the room. "Sarah?"
"The time you accidentally showed me the Demova virus?" Sarah teased, gracefully conceding her loss of this round.
"He did what?" Ellie cried, torn between laughter and secondhand embarrassment for her brother.
Chuck's cheeks felt hot enough to bake pizza. "I did do that," he admitted, Morgan giving him an almost approving thumbs up. "But that's still not my most embarrassing moment."
Bryce smiled slowly. "I think I know."
Chuck nodded equally as slowly. "I think you do too."
Bright, undisguised mirth lit up Bryce's face. "Don't worry, Chuck. I won't say."
"You have to," Awesome said, ignoring Ellie's half-hearted glare. "It's in the rules."
Chuck sighed, knowing he had to let this happen. "Go on, Bryce."
Blue eyes smiled almost apologetically. "Pledge week."
Turning his paddle around, Chuck showed the others his writing: pledge week.
Morgan sat forward, expectations shattered. "You can't just leave it at that," he cried. "Come on. What happened at pledge week?"
Identical grins curled Chuck and Bryce's lips. "Gamma Delta Phi secrets are only for Gamma Delta Phi brothers," they chorused, utterly unapologetic. "Sorry."
"My life is ruined because I never pledged a fraternity," Sarah quipped, startling laughter from the others.
"You wouldn't have pledged to us anyway," Chuck said, mournful. "Believe it or not, we were kind of a nerdy fraternity."
Bryce tossed a celery stick at him, frowning playfully. "Speak for yourself."
"Fine," Chuck conceded easily, tossing the celery stick back. "We were a nerdy fraternity except for this guy."
"Thank you."
The game continued and, apart from a few awkward moments with more personal questions, was a rousing success. Ellie and Awesome won as expected and, though Chuck and Sarah came in last, it wasn't as terrible as it could have been. Afterwards, like the good (fake) boyfriend he was, Chuck walked Sarah to her car, then swung around to Bryce's to watch the last hour of Tron on the sci-fi movie channel before going to bed via the Morgan door.
.
.
The next morning, fortified with a travel cup of the excellent Italian roast coffee neither he nor Ellie could remember buying, Chuck left to go to work. A beautiful redheaded woman stood in the courtyard, smiling at him as he walked past. Once, that would have been that. But, one more glance at her face sent images flashing through his mind. An Argentinian passport, a redacted DEA file, a syringe.
Chuck spontaneously decided to make a detour before driving to the Buy More.
Casey and Sarah (dressed in their work uniforms) and Bryce (in another of his apparently endless expensive suits) were standing in front of Casey's computer as he rushed in. Their backs were ramrod straight, expressions clear and unreadable. They looked more like soldiers awaiting inspection than spies.
"Guys," he called, voice steadier than it had been in past experiences. "Guys? Did you know that there is an undercover DEA agent out in the courtyard?" In case they were unaware of the direction, Chuck helpfully gestured with his thumb.
"Relax, Chuck," Sarah said brusquely. "We know."
"Okay," Chuck replied, relieved. "Shall I go?"
A male voice sounded from the speakers. "He can stay."
Chuck glanced at the screen and frowned. "Who are they?'
"Our bosses," Bryce muttered, narrowing his eyes marginally in the way that meant it would be in Chuck's best interests if he stayed quiet now.
"... The diamond is heavily guarded inside of Peyman Alahi's Malibu compound. Mr Alahi is an international financier for the opium cartel, which is why the Drug Enforcement Administration has asked us to cooperate."
That did not sound like Chuck's idea of fun. Bryce, however, was silently vibrating with enthusiasm beside him. He could just imagine that this was the kind of mission he would have excelled at, before his job responsibilities changed to being Chuck's overqualified babysitter.
The female general that Chuck assumed to be General Beckman took over the briefing. "You'll assist Carina in acquiring the rock."
"Acquiring?" Chuck repeated, a little confused. It sounded an awful lot like stealing would be involved. And Chuck was fairly certain that stealing from a drug financier was not on the list of healthy things to do. In fact, it sounded like something that ended with certain death.
Casey hissed at him to be quiet.
On screen, the man Chuck assumed to be the Director of the CIA continued talking as if Chuck had never interrupted. "You'll take Chuck to Alahi's compound to get his Intersect data on the alarm system. Set up the grab for the following day."
"Sir," Sarah began respectfully. "Carina is a tremendous field agent, but..." Sarah shared a troubled look with Casey. "We can't trust her. Chuck is way too valuable."
"Alahi has friends outside the opium trade," the Director replied, not unkindly. "We have received Intel that he plans on moving the stone within the next 72 hours."
Casey cleared his throat. "Uh, I've had dealings with Carina in the past too," he admitted slowly. "She could be a bit of a wild card."
"We're aware of what happened in Prague, Agent Casey," the Director assured him. "Which is why the diamond will be returned to us. Under no circumstances will Carina be entrusted with it."
"What happened in Prague?"
Casey turned his eerily intense, I will murder you eyes on Chuck.
"I don't want to know."
"No. But I do," Bryce smirked, meeting Casey's murderous glare head on. "She kick your ass, Casey?"
"Agent Larkin," the Director snapped, glaring out of the screen at him. "Do not make me regret signing your clearance back into active duty."
Bryce turned a calm, unsettlingly blank gaze on his superior. "I shall be the model of interagency cooperation, sir."
Chuck admired him for being so believable and yet so insincere at the same time.
"Mm-hmm," General Beckman muttered dubiously. "I think it would be best if you focused your attention on protecting the Intersect. Leave dealing with Agent Miller for Agents Casey and Walker."
Chuck glanced sidelong at Bryce, expecting to see minute traces of irritation or disappointment in his expressive eyes. The spy, however, caught his gaze and winked, the tiniest trace of a grin flashing over his lips. If Chuck didn't know better, he'd say Bryce had just gotten exactly what he wanted.
.
Bryce drew Chuck a few paces away, muttering something about not needing to be there for the rest of it.
"What was that about?" Chuck whispered, nodding back to the computer where the briefing was just finishing.
"I don't trust other agents," Bryce shrugged, eyes watchful and shrewd. "Especially not with you."
"I flashed on her," Chuck protested, knowing exactly how overprotective his friend was being. "She's not dirty, Bryce."
"You don't have to know you're being dirty to be dirty," Bryce said enigmatically. "Now, hurry up. You're going to be late for work." Bryce nudged Chuck aside, picking up his own travel mug.
"Italian?" Chuck guessed, having a feeling he knew the origin of the coffee blends appearing in his cupboards.
The corner of Bryce's lips lifted in an approving smirk. "Ecuadorian, actually."
Chuck frowned, trying to recall if he had seen any of that in his apartment.
"Look behind the Oreos," Bryce suggested, following Sarah and Casey out of the apartment.
.
.
The redheaded DEA agent, Carina, smiled at Sarah, watching the other file out into the sunny courtyard. "Is this your team?"
Sarah nodded slightly, Casey strutting forward. "Actually it's mine."
Bryce hovered at Chuck's shoulder, breath brushing over his ear. "It's actually my team," the CIA agent murmured. "But I'll let Casey have this one."
"...nice to see you with your pants on," Carina said, glancing down at Casey's legs.
Chuck suddenly had a vivid image of what probably happened in Prague. So did Bryce, if the little huff of laughter he let out was any indication.
Carina's blue eyes, colder than Sarah's, flittered towards Bryce and Chuck. "And who might you be?"
Chuck waited for the Hollywood charm, but Bryce merely nodded professionally. "Bryce Larkin."
"Ah," Carina made a soft sound of recognition. "The infamous partner. And you?"
"Uh, I'm Chuck," Chuck said intelligently. "The new guy."
"He's an analyst," Sarah explained, because she was the best like that.
Behind the female agents, Morgan stepped out of Chuck's apartment, making a beeline for them. "Hey, Chuck!"
Eyes wide, Chuck turned towards his friend, wishing he had some sort of super cool spy excuse for getting his innocent friend away from the government agents.
"Another member of your team?" Carina asked in a low aside.
"No, that's Morgan," Sarah explained quickly. "He's Chuck's best friend. A civilian." Then, as Morgan finally joined them; "Hey, Morgan! This is Carina, an old friend. We used to work together."
Morgan acted as smooth as Morgan ever did, catching Carina's hand and bending to place a kiss on her knuckles. "Madame Carina."
Bryce caught Chuck's gaze, laughter reflecting in his eyes. "Next movie night choice says this is all he'll talk about at work."
Chuck knew it was a sucker's bet, but he nodded loyally, hoping Morgan would prove him wrong.
.
.
Morgan did not prove him wrong.
The Nerd Herders, Morgan and Bryce gathered around the Nerd Herd centre, where Morgan was holding court (and Bryce was barely holding back laughter). "...And I say, "Madame Carina", right? And she goes "A pleasure to meet you sir". But it's her eyes," Morgan said, widening his eyes in demonstration. "Man, her eyes say everything."
"Like what?" Jeff asked, curious.
Chuck couldn't stop himself. Not that he wanted to. Morgan having a thing for Carina would be bad. It would be very, very bad. So, like a good friend, he felt it was his duty to dim Morgan's hopes a little. "Like, Martin?"
Bryce let out a little snicker, not even bothering to pretend to read something on his phone.
"Huh?" Lester turned to Chuck for clarification.
"She kind of got my name wrong," Morgan admitted, but he didn't sound daunted. "She goes Martin instead of Morgan. It's completely fine though."
Chuck moved off the desk he was leaning on. "Tang's coming."
Morgan suddenly developed a need to be somewhere else. Hopefully doing his job and not mooning after Carina, but Chuck wasn't hopeful about that.
Under the guise of looking at Chuck's computer, Bryce sidled closer to Chuck. "I don't know about you, Chuck, but I'm thinking Phantom-"
"Don't even joke," Chuck hissed, feeling like an outraged cat. Bryce laughed, holding up his hands and grinning.
Meanwhile, Jeff was muttering something about being suited for the ladies (a horrifying thought all around), and Lester just made the whole situation worse. "Chuck, how are you supposed to get any female friction action with him third wheeling you all the time?"
Chuck had a head full of secrets and yet no secret way to decode Lester speak. "What does that even mean?"
"I think he's talking about sex, Chuck," Bryce idly commented.
"Then couldn't he just say that?" Chuck asked plaintively. Female friction action was not a phrase he ever wanted to hear again.
"Yeah," Lester acknowledged. "I mean, I could. It's just, it lacks, uh, flavour."
Chuck's brain actually hurt.
"Lovely spending time with your new friends, Chuck," Bryce muttered, sarcasm plain under the sincere tone of his voice.
Instinctively, Chuck reached two fingers out and curled them under the sleeve of Bryce's jacket. "Don't leave me alone with them," he muttered, relieved when Bryce just smiled and leaned back against the desk.
.
.
Not long afterwards, Chuck was bringing some paperwork back to the Nerd Herd centre when he heard Lester commenting about a place where the beautiful people shopped. There were places like that, he knew. He'd been there with Bryce buying furniture and other homemaking things - no IKEA for Bryce Larkin. Still, Chuck followed Jeff and Lester's unsubtle gazes and found Carina. In the Buy More. Talking to Morgan.
He did not have a good feeling about this.
Carina gave him a sparkling smile and a flirty wave, Sarah (vaguely annoyed) appearing in the Buy More behind her.
"Hmm," Bryce hummed, appearing suddenly enough to give Chuck's heart a jolt. "Definitely a wild card."
"Chuck, you have to fix me up with Carina," Morgan announced, for once ignoring his chance to glare with acerbity at Bryce.
"No. I mean," Chuck floundered, trying to think of a way out of this. "No. Actually, I don't think that's such a good idea, Morgan."
"Chuck," Morgan said with an unusual seriousness. "I know what a third wheel is. I know it is me." Morgan craned his head around Chuck and nodded at Bryce. "And him. But give me a chance here, man. Let, let me be a fourth wheel. For once."
Chuck felt more than saw Bryce move and he saw his out. "Hey, Morgan, buddy. You know I would love to be a good friend and help you out but maybe Bryce is interested too. And I couldn't in good conscience support one of my best friends over the other."
Morgan's dark eyes all but bored into Bryce. "You interested, Accountant?"
Bryce frowned, lost. "In what?"
Morgan's glare said he thought Bryce was being deliberately stupid. "Carina, man."
"Not a chance in hell."
That wasn't a deflection, that was plain, unbridled honesty. Chuck half glared at him, wondering why he couldn't have acted like the superspy he was and lied like Chuck wanted him to.
"She's not good enough for you?" Morgan hissed, offended.
Chuck had never in his life seen Bryce flounder. But for an instant, that was what he saw. Then, Bryce smirked as easily as it was false and shrugged. "Never trust a beautiful woman, Grimes. Especially a redhead."
"You know what?" Chuck asked, deciding to step in before this situation got any more out of hand. "I'll see what I can do, Morgan. Bryce? Come with me."
Bryce followed him a few steps, managing to look both utterly unruffled and vaguely apologetic. "Sorry for not having your back there, Chuck," he said, honestly contrite. "But my assignment is to protect you, not act moonstruck over Little Miss DEA." In a show of support, Bryce called Sarah over. "Sarah might have more sway, though."
"You're the best," Chuck sighed, relief filling him. Of course Sarah would shoot this down. He had nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about at all.
Except the most awkward double date in history. And Chuck included the time before he got together with Jill when he and Bryce double dated sorority sisters and spend the night talking more with each other than their dates. And, though he counted that night one of the more painful experiences of his college career - prior to senior year - he would rather be back in that grubby diner than watching Carina toy with his oldest friend's affections.
And yet, the sheer uncomfortableness of the double date had nothing on the middle of the night.
.
.
Carina faked a computer emergency, dragging him out of his bed and across the city to her hotel room. There, she tried to ply him with champagne and seduce him. Why? Because his big mouth had opened and said she was in Argentina. A little fact that required high security clearance - much higher than a humble analyst. And, though he didn't think Carina was dangerous exactly, Chuck still felt quite irrevocably screwed.
And then- And then, Carina had to try and sow seeds of chaos.
She crawled up behind him on the bed he was perching on, trying desperately not to snatch for his phone or just flee without it, and started asking all kinds of personal questions. Sarah related questions. Like whether he was sleeping with her or not.
Now, Chuck wasn't, but he had a feeling that he oughtn't to admit that much aloud. "A gentleman never-"
"I see," Carina sighed, her breath uncomfortably hot and close on his ear. "I suppose that makes sense. Given, Bryce."
"Bryce?" Chuck repeated, wishing he'd thought to let his self-appointed bodyguard know he was leaving the complex.
"Bryce Larkin, on your team?" Carina murmured, soft and sultry. "He's sleeping with her." Carina drew back, looking apologetic. "Didn't they tell you?"
"Nice try, Agent Miller," Bryce called, leaning against the open door. "But you've got to try much harder than that."
Chuck bounced off the bed, scurrying away from Carina as quickly as he could. "Bryce," he smiled, relieved and happy and a whole mess of other things that directly related to feeling more in control now that Bryce was there and Carina probably wasn't going to try and sleep with him anymore. "How did you find me?"
"GPS tracker in your watch," Bryce replied, nodding to the helpful gadget.
Chuck supposed he ought to feel annoyed about that, but right now all he could feel was grateful.
Carina, on the other hand, looked almost annoyed. "Are you denying that you're sleeping with Sarah?"
"Yes," Bryce said bluntly. "Chuck already knows I used to sleep with her. He also already knows that we broke up months ago. We just never would have worked out. Now, if you're through trying to cause trouble in my team, I suggest we all get some rest. We've got a mission to fulfill."
.
.
Bryce steered Chuck down the corridor with a hand at his back. The minute they were in the elevator, Chuck wrapped his arms around his friend in a tight hug. "Thank you for following me."
"Any time, Chuck." Bryce clapped him gently on the back and pulled away. "Sarah and I, we really are over, Chuck. I care about her and I always will, but she's not, uh, the one for me."
Chuck knew Bryce was a professional liar, that he could lie to his face and that Chuck would never be any the wiser, but he also knew Bryce. Bryce wasn't lying to him. Not about this.
"I know," he agreed simply, grinning and bumping into his side. "She's too good for you, anyway."
"Ain't that the truth," Bryce grinned back, earnest seriousness gone. "But, you do realize, I'm never letting you live this down."
"Live what down?" Chuck asked slowly.
Bryce's grin sparkled. "Charles Irving Bartowski, the pledge who once performed a daring panty raid on the sorority sisters of Gamma Kappa Gamma, running scared at a little light seduction."
"Light seduction?" Chuck repeated, askance. "She was practically undressing me with her eyes! And don't start with the raid, Larkin. I remember who masterminded that little mission."
Bryce laughed, leaning his head back against the elevator wall. "God, I miss Stanford."
"Simpler times," Chuck agreed, missing the exhausting classes and late night study sessions so much it almost hurt.
"For the most part," Bryce agreed, a hint of the same shadows from game night covering his face. Feeling Chuck's concerned gaze on him, Bryce pushed off the wall, smiling almost sadly. "I was recruited out of Stanford. Junior year."
Suddenly, a lot of Bryce's habits those final years made abrupt and perfect sense. Avoiding windows in restaurants, always facing the door, all the mornings that Chuck apologetically woke him from dead slumbers where it looked like he'd barely slept at all. "I wish you could have told me."
A spasm flickered over Bryce's face - guilt and pain and sadness. "Well," he said, smiling a shade too bright. "Now you know."
"Yeah," Chuck agreed, hearing years of silence and loneliness between them. "Now I know. And you should know, I'm here if you ever just need to talk."
Bryce snapped his eyes to meet Chuck's, hope flickering dimly within. "I might just take you up on that, buddy," he said, smile much more genuine. "But not tonight. Tonight, we've gotta rest up. My first mission back on active duty tomorrow."
"Any advice?" Chuck asked, really meaning 'any more dances I'm going to have to pretend to be fluent in and then totally flub like the awful spy everyone can see I am?'
Bryce, because of course he could read Chuck like Chuck could sometimes read him, chuckled. "Just stick to me like glue."
Stick to Bryce like glue. Chuck was pretty sure there were worse ways to spend a party. "I can do that," Chuck agreed easily. "Besides, someone has to watch your back."
Bryce made a show of groaning and looking at the ceiling. "You get shot one little time."
"I'm just saying," Chuck shrugged, feigning lack of concern. "If you get hurt again, I'm letting Ellie deal with you. And, Ellie now she knows you've been shot? That'll make the way she was summer break between second and third years feel like a vacation."
Bryce didn't quite manage to hide his shudder. "I'm a spy, Chuck. I've been shot, stabbed, interrogated, locked in more prisons than I can count, and my apartment shares walls with Casey's. Ellie Bartowski doesn't scare me."
Chuck crossed his arms, rocked back on his heels and smirked. "Yes, she does."
"Yeah," Bryce admitted mournfully. "She does."
Chuck patted Bryce on the shoulder. "If she ever finds out about the whole CIA agent, Intersect thing, let's make a break for Mexico."
"I've got go bags ready," Bryce replied, not a trace of a lie. "But we're not going to Mexico. She'd get in her car and follow us there. We're taking a rail tour of Europe. Or hiding out on a beach in New Zealand. One of the two."
The image of his sister in full blown protective fury popped into his head, Chuck replicating Bryce's almost shudder. "I vote both."
