Chuck had reflected before on how much could change in his life so quickly. Only yesterday, he had been at peace with the universe; happy and content, giddy on the hope for his sister's future. Then, Bryce had let his guard drop. Chuck didn't even think he'd done it on purpose - even a superspy couldn't be on all the time, especially not around their family. But, Chuck had seen the lost light in his eyes and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. The last time Bryce had looked at him like that, Fulcrum had been in town and Bryce had been planning on running, leading them as far away from Chuck as he could get them.

Bryce had asked him to give him last night; a coping mechanism they'd developed during college, putting off what they couldn't bear to think about until a time when they had no choice to. Even with the ominous cloud of whatever freaked Bryce out hanging over them, last night had been fun. Bryce had cooked - enough to feed Ellie and Awesome too - and had managed to talk them into staying up for the Batman marathon. It had been good. Normal even.

But that had been last night.

Today, Chuck was greeted with a vague sense of unease with the universe. The certainty that something was wrong, he knew it deep in his soul. Bryce just hadn't found the words to tell him what yet. Or, more accurately knowing Bryce, he was trying to keep Chuck safe from it for as long as possible.

.

Chuck leaned against the kitchen island, coffee mug in hand and bed hair no doubt spectacular, watching his best friend. Bryce, in pyjama pants and a worn Stanford tee, hair almost as fluffy and messy as Chuck's own, was alternating between glaring at the coffee machine and toaster as if they had caused him a severe personal wrong.

Knowing his friend's apparent propensity for destroying otherwise innocent pieces of technology, Chuck decided that coffee could wait until he'd calmed his friend down a little.

"What's wrong, Bryce?"

"Everything's peachy," Bryce snarked, not even glancing away from the poor toaster.

"Buddy," Chuck began, disbelief plain in his tone. "We sat through not only the good Batmans but also Batman and Robin. You did that to us. There's something wrong."

Bryce glanced over his shoulder, smile small and brittle. "It's nothing."

"Bryce."

Chuck stared hard at his friend, wondering if the agent actually believed he was maintaining his cool, calm superspy exterior. Because, if that was the case, Chuck begged to differ. He was an open book right now. An open book of snapping tension and a lazy kind of hyper-vigilance.

Bryce turned away from the toaster, sliding a couple of steaming slices across the counter to Chuck. Blue eyes flickered over Chuck's shoulder, scanning the front of the apartment in quick flashes.

"Chuck," he said, meeting his gaze as if everything was right in his world. Chuck admired the act, but once again he could see straight through it.

"Is it Fulcrum? Are they back?"

Bryce heaved a tired sigh, looking like nothing so much as someone who wanted to go back to bed, pull the covers over their head and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Chuck was familiar with the feeling.

"Buddy, I promised I'd tell you everything, and I will. I just- I need to check in with Sarah and Casey first."

Chuck took that as confirmation that, yes, it was likely that Fulcrum were back.

"You're checking in with them? This must be serious." Chuck meant what he said, but he let the words come out teasing, drawing a slight grin to Bryce's lips.

"Oh, shut up and eat your toast."

"Bryce?" Chuck asked, eyes fixed on the piece of toast he was slathering in peanut butter.

His friend made an encouraging humming sound, busy with fixing their coffees.

"Is it bad?" Chuck kept his gaze down, letting Bryce decide how to answer without the pressure of knowing Chuck could read the answer in his eyes.

Bryce's hand entered Chuck's limited field of vision, leaving a mug at the edge of Chuck's plate.

"I'd say it's nothing we can't handle," he began, voice almost too soft for Chuck to hear. "But, if it comes down to it, I'm not so sure."

"That's, uh, just what I needed to hear, buddy," Chuck groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "You couldn't lie and make me feel better?"

That, of all things, drew a chuckle from Bryce's lips. "You hate when I lie to you."

And, yeah, Chuck did hate it when Bryce lied to him. But, he hated it when Fulcrum interrupted their lives even more. Granted, Fulcrum had only interrupted Chuck's life twice so far, but every time it just left Chuck with more issues than he knew what to deal with. He could only imagine how Bryce felt about it. Bryce was, after all, the one Fulcrum had targeted.

As if reading that in Chuck's face, Bryce offered a real grin. "Come on, buddy, we're going to be late for work at this rate."

"We could just take a day," Chuck offered, the thought appealing on many levels.

Bryce laughed again, grabbing his final piece of toast as he strolled off towards the bathroom. "Ten minutes, Bartowski!"

Now that, at least, was normal. Chuck rolled his eyes at his friend's departing back. "Yeah, yeah," he called, settling in with his toast and coffee. So they might be a little late. What's the worst that could really happen?

.

In an effort to distract Bryce and ease some of the tension that had snapped back into his body as soon as they left the apartment, Chuck commandeered the radio and kept up a steady stream of chatter as they drove. It followed their usual pattern of teasing - Chuck commenting that Bryce probably hadn't heard this or that song if it came out after graduation, and Bryce dryly replying that he'd been a little busy being James Bond so Chuck would have to forgive him.

It worked, distracting the both of them until they pulled into the Buy More and saw the police cars parked out front.

Chuck got out slowly, frowning at the police presence. "You didn't forget to tell me you'd killed Casey or something, did you?"

"Sadly, no," Bryce replied, blocking the concern in his eyes with his customary sunglasses. "And, if I ever was so fortunate, I wouldn't leave the body in the Buy More."

Chuck hummed an agreement, putting on his Buy More ID badge as they entered the store. The store where, fortunately, Morgan was waiting for him.

"What's with the police presence outside?" Chuck asked, forgoing a good morning in view of the situation.

"The robbed the Buy More, man," Morgan replied, looking out over what Chuck was rapidly recognising as a completely empty store. "They took everything."

Everything. Everything was gone.

And if everything was gone, then...

"Oh, God," Chuck breathed, panic crawling up his throat. He took off into the store, sneakers squeaking on the floor, skidding into the break room. "Please be there."

Chuck closed his eyes in front of his locker, silently begging the universe. It couldn't do this to him. Not now. Fulcrum were probably back and the Buy More had been robbed, and Chuck could deal with both those things, he could. He just couldn't deal with it if the universe did this to him too. Surely it owed him. Just a little bit. One tiny, little break. That was all Chuck was asking for.

Chuck nodded, hoping that he and the universe understood one another, then he opened his locker. His completely empty locker. No Call of Duty advanced copy, no little red box with Ellie's engagement ring. Just fresh air and hopelessness.

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no." This could not be happening. There was no way that this could be happening. How could the Buy More be robbed the only night that Chuck had something actually valuable in his locker? How was that fair?

"Chuck?" Bryce called, voice tentative from the doorway.

Chuck made a noise like a hamster getting run over. "Tell me the CIA have invented a hologram and my locker really isn't empty."

"I wish I could, buddy," Bryce murmured, peering into the empty depths of his locker. "But-"

Whatever brilliant plan his best friend had (and Bryce had to have a brilliant plan, because Chuck was fresh out and the universe seemed like it might occasionally not completely have it out for him like it did Chuck) was interrupted by further proof of the universe's vendetta against Chuck.

"Hey," Chuck greeted, strained even to his own ears. Bryce settled down opposite him, watching as if he could hear every word.

"Listen, dude," Devon announced. "I've figured out how I'm gonna pop the Q."

"Q?" Chuck repeated, playing dumb. Playing for time. "What Q? What's a Q?"

"You know, the Q. The big Q you only ask once in a lifetime," Devon reminded him. Then, for some reason, he called Chuck mom and said he couldn't talk. Then, after a muffled conversation with Ellie, Devon continued. "I'm gonna do it while we're skydiving."

"Really?" Chuck didn't have to try and sound dubious. A skydiving proposal didn't sound particularly romantic. And, going by the incredulous frown on Bryce's face, he didn't think so either. "Are you- are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Not the first time we've been in the mile high club," Devon replied, and ew. That was way more information than Chuck ever needed on his sister's personal life.

"Um, yeah." Chuck quickly veered the conversation back to it's original track. "Listen, uh, don't you think skydiving is a little risky? I mean, you could drop the ring."

Bryce nodded, mouthing "nice one" like the supportive best friend he was.

"Ooh, dude," Devon winced. "I'd hate to lose my great granny's ring. She gave it to me right before she passed. You know? She knew Ellie was the one before I did."

"Family's like that," Chuck agreed. "Just, let me know when you've worked it out. But, uh," Chuck glanced towards his empty locker and the ghost of the ring. "Take your time."

"You got it, brother," Devon agreed, hanging up.

"Ellie's going to kill me," Chuck groaned, resisting the urge to thunk his head very hard onto the table. He glanced over at his friend, finding Bryce already watching him with barely veiled concern. "Is it too late to run off to that beach in New Zealand?"

Bryce chuckled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's stick it out here for a little while longer. Big Mike wants us in a lineup."

.

"Detective Conway thinks that this is an inside job," Big Mike was saying, pacing in front of the rest of the staff. "And we intend to get to the bottom of this." He caught sight of Chuck and Bryce loitering near the end of the line, barking an order for them to come stand in the middle. "Where's Casey?" Big Mike demanded. "Don't you two usually carpool together?"

"Not when I can help it," Bryce cut in, smiling sharply at the detective.

"Not, uh, not today," Chuck quickly replied, pointedly nudging Bryce with his elbow.

"Why don't you go find out why his ass is so tardy," Big Mike suggested. "Someone might find that suspicious."

"Sure, I can," Chuck cleared his throat, a little unsettled by the way the detective was staring at him. "I can do that." Chuck pulled out his phone, wandering a little way away from the rest of the staff.

Bryce, predictably, went with him, shooting a glare that asked someone to make his day and object.

Casey, in true Casey fashion, neglected to answer his phone, sending a short text with an address and a demand for him and Bryce to get their asses down there pronto. Bryce looked resigned when he saw the address, but he drove them down there with no objections.

.

.

Inside an old hangar was, well, the missing Buy More products. Shelving units, shopping carts, toys, the works. And, in the middle of it all, at least a dozen CIA/NSA agents milling about. Sarah stood nearest the hangar doors, unapologetic.

"You robbed the Buy More?!"

Sarah shot a look at Bryce, frown pinching her eyebrows. "We had no choice, Chuck."

"No choice?" Chuck repeated, fully in his rights to sound a little hysterical. "Do you know what's going down at the Buy More right now?"

Casey joined Sarah in giving Bryce a judgemental look. Bryce, wearing his shades and a calm expression, ignored them.

"The bug you found, it isn't one of ours," Casey announced.

Bug? What bug? Chuck turned to his silent best friend. "Bryce?"

Bryce didn't remove his sunglasses, but his carefully calm expression faltered, just a little.

"I take it this has something to do with what upset you yesterday?"

"This is not how I was planning on telling you," Bryce offered, for Chuck's ears alone. And yeah, Chuck knew that. Bryce tended to prefer a softly-softly approach to breaking bad news to Chuck. This was more Casey's style.

"Casey only installed EM-50s," Sarah briefed, leading them through the hangar/store. "What you found was a GLG-20. It requires a secondary recording device nearby to collect the data."

"And that requires all this because...?"

Bryce took a deep breath, gaze apologetic through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. "Because, buddy, we think Fulcrum planted it looking for the Intersect."

"But they think you're the Intersect," Chuck whispered, cautious of the agents milling about.

"And that's the way I'd like to keep it," Bryce agreed swiftly, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "But-"

"We found twenty-nine other bugs hidden in the Buy More," Casey interrupted. "We can't rule out the possibility that the bugs picked up on who you really are."

"And we still haven't found the receiver," Sarah finished, falling into the professional tone she used when imparting bad news.

"Okay," Chuck heard himself say. He didn't quite know how to process all that. On one hand, it explained why Bryce was freaking out yesterday. On the other, Chuck had only seen a hint of what Fulcrum were capable of and the thought of them coming after him again, or maybe Ellie too...

Chuck turned towards Bryce, finding it a little hard to breathe. "Oh, God," he muttered, barely loud enough for himself to hear. Bryce didn't say a word, offering no promises he might not be able to keep. But what he did do was surreptitiously slip his hand into Chuck's, letting him squeeze tightly and let his panic flow out the point of their contact.

Bryce would probably say it wasn't much. But it was a reminder Chuck had someone in his corner; that Bryce was there and so long as Bryce was there, they had a chance of working this out.

"Extreme, uh, extreme measures," Chuck heard himself say a little while later, still clutching onto Bryce's grounding hand. "Good luck shlepping this stuff back to the Buy More. We've gotta get back and pretend we don't know anything."

Bryce squeezed a little on Chuck's hand. "Chuck-" Bryce faltered, fresh lines of misery etching onto his face.

Another agent interrupted the moment, beckoning Casey and Sarah away. "Agents?"

Sarah waved at Chuck, asking him to come with them. Chuck held up his free hand, attention caught by the sadness on Bryce's face. He knew that look; it was Bryce's I have really, really bad news look. It was the look Chuck had never wanted to see again after Thanksgiving.

"Do I need to hear it?"

Bryce gave an aborted nod. "Yeah."

Chuck nodded too, sensing something in Bryce's lack of elaboration. "Will we both be happier if you don't tell me just yet?"

"Buddy," Bryce began, and yeah, Chuck thought so.

"Don't tell me here," he said, squeezing Bryce's hand reassuringly. "I can wait."

"Oi! Lovebirds!" Casey barked, and if Chuck startled Bryce wasn't telling. "Get over here!"

.

"That's Jeff and Lester," Chuck stated, staring at the security footage. "And they're apparently drunk."

"It appears they've mistakenly turned the camera back on," Sarah frowned, staring at the slightly grainy footage.

Chuck peered closer at the top right image, where a figure in black was loitering in Big Mike's office. "Why would an enemy spy want to steal Big Mike's Marlin?"

Casey snorted derisively. "Those two dilweeds interrupted an actual robbery in progress."

"The receiver is in the fish," Sarah smiled, turning triumphantly to Casey.

Chuck, pressed close to Bryce as he was, felt the relief rush through Bryce's body. On screen, Jeff and Lester stole the Marlin and well now they knew why they hadn't found the receiver yet.

"I'm sure you two super agents can find out where the two drunken pinheads stashed the four foot Marlin," Chuck decided, metaphorically washing his hands of this whole mess. "Now we're going to find my sister's ring."

On a good day, Bryce would tease him about volunteering him for things. This was not a good day. This was a Fulcrum are around and we're both going to be even more creepily interdependent than usual kind of day, so Bryce just nodded and let Chuck drag him off into the shelves.

Unfortunately, because the universe just could not let either of them have a goddamned win, Sarah came rushing after them.

"Chuck," she called, catching his arm and turning him around. "No ring came up in our inventory."

"What do you mean no ring came up?" Chuck demanded, trying very hard to channel Bryce's legendary calm. "You robbed the Buy More, didn't you? What happened to Awesome's great-grandmother's ring?"

"We kind of have some bigger picture concerns right now," Sarah told him, not unkindly. But Chuck was not in the mood to hear it. They'd found the location of the receiver, surely they could spare some time to focus on Chuck's issues too.

"What could possibly be bigger than me ruining the chances of my sister getting married?"

Sarah shared a loaded look with Casey. Casey who crept a little forward. "As Casey said, the receiver may contain information that you are the Intersect."

"Say it," Chuck demanded, knowing Sarah was holding back for his sake. Only Bryce could hold back for his sake, and that was because Chuck trusted he'd tell him when he needed to know.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chuck saw Bryce shake his head. For all he looked as calm as ever, to Chuck he looked imploring.

I'm sorry, buddy. Chuck had to know. And maybe it would be easier on him not to have to be the one to say it. "Say what you're not saying."

Sarah's professional mask cracked. "If we don't locate the receiver in the next twenty-four hours..." Sarah trailed off, unable to find the words.

"You'll be stored in an underground bunker for so long you'll forget what fresh air smells like," Casey finished, giving an unapologetic little shrug.

Okay. Chuck changed his mind. He wanted Bryce to tell him.

Bryce bumped into him slightly, offering a comforting smile. "Daralth."

Chuck's Klingon was admittedly rusty, but he was fairly certain he understood that. Bryce was promising him that'd he'd stay, regardless of the CIA approving or not. Chuck nodded back, trusting Bryce at his word.

Bryce offered a slight smile, ignoring Casey's hissed demand to know what he'd said. In fact, Bryce was looking far more like himself, smirking and rocking back a little on his heels.

"Okay," he called, nudging Bryce so he stopped baiting Casey. "The only way we're getting that receiver is to ask Jeff and Lester what they did with the Marlin."

And Chuck really hoped those drunk morons remembered where they'd left it, because if they didn't Chuck wasn't going to stop Bryce and/or Casey from encouraging them to remember.