A/N: Come on. Come clean. We know you own Chuck. Speak up. Don't be shy. We don't judge.
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Sarah checked to make sure she had her weapon, her knives and all three deadly back-up items secreted about her person. She was just putting the finishing touches on her make-up when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to find Chuck standing there with a boquet of gardenias in his hand.
He had a happy smile and looked spectacular in his new tuxedo. The sight of him caused a warmth in places that weren't supposed to get warm before missions. She had been with him when he tried on the tux and bought it, but this was the first time she saw him in it with the full regalia. She thought he looked good enough to eat. But, as good as he looked, what made her breath catch in her throat and the blood rise to her face was the expression that grew on his face when he saw her. He was absolutely awestruck, his jaw slack and with wonder and his eyes glimmering with adoration. Almost in a whisper, he said, "Every time I look at you, I think you cannot possibly look more beautiful than you look at that moment and then you do something like this and look more beautiful than ….than is even conceivable. Oh, my God, Sarah," he smiled almost timidly. "I am the luckiest guy on planet Earth."
She smiled with joy and her heart warmed. She wore a sleeveless red dress with a long slit up one side and a flowing red sash over one shoulder. She had picked her dress specially to please him and was thrilled that it did. "Thank you, Chuck. You look pretty special yourself." She gave him a kiss that curled his toes and said with a little smirk, "I look forward to taking that tux off you later, one piece at a time." Taking the flowers, she continued, "And you know, you are the first boyfriend I've ever had who took the time to notice that gardenias are my favorite. Thank you." She went to put them in water.
"All your prior boyfriends were idiots."
"Yup. I know that now, but where were you then?"
"Pining away for you at the Nerd Herd desk. Not even knowing what I was missing."
"Jeff and Lester not an adequate substitute?"
"Urgghh. You went there. Ugly idea."
They laughed as they made their way down the hall and to the elevator, arm in arm.
Once in Casey's beloved Crown Vic (which he had arranged to have shipped from DC a week or so ago), Sarah said, "Did you remember to empty your pockets of ID? Anything that could identify you?"
"Yes," said Chuck. "And I brushed my teeth before bed too."
"Don't get snide, young man. It's your first time in the field. I'd hate for you to drop your Buy More ID when you are telling people you're Charles Carmichael. That's exactly how covers get blown."
"So, are you telling me that all those TV shows where the CIA agent, or an NSA agent I guess, whips out his wallet and shows a badge to the investigating police officer are bullshit?"
"Totally, Moron," said Casey. "We don't need no stinking badges," he continued in a bad Mexican accent.
"A movie reference... I'm rubbing off on you Casey," said Chuck
"It was Bogey. That doesn't count," growled Casey.
"Actually, it was a guy speaking to Bogey, but I get your drift."
"Ok, so to go over the plan, boys," said Sarah. "Casey, you take the bar. Chuck and I will mingle, but separately, so Harris and Renny don't know we are together."
"Harris is an asshole," said Casey.
"I agree," said Sarah, "but Renny's ok."
"Yeah, but Harris is the boss. Renny will take his orders."
The meeting among Harris, Renny, Sarah and Casey had not gone well. It didn't take long for Sarah and Casey to realize that Renny had gotten their agencies involved against Harris' wishes and was suffering for that decision. Harris did his best to talk them out of attending the auction. When that failed, he tried to convince them that they were under his command. Only when that failed did he reluctantly acquiesce to include them on his and Renny's communications net so that the four of them could monitor the room looking for any sign that one of the attendees was, in fact, La Ciudad. Presumably, they could wait for the high bid for the painting and apprehend the bidder on the assumption that it was La Ciudad trying to buy the plutonium, but, given all that could go wrong, the sooner that they could make a positive identification the better.
They arrived at the auction at the Wiltshire Strand Hotel, a high end hotel with an old fashioned decor and an expensive reputation. The art auction itself was a swanky affair with passed hors d'oeuvres, champagne, an open bar, and live music. It was black tie and, although the women were very attractive and wore lovely gowns, Chuck thought Sarah was the most beautiful woman there by a long shot, which, he figured, said a great deal – this being LA, and all. Chuck and Sarah entered a few minutes apart and began to move about the room. Casey took up station at the bar.
Accepting a glass of champagne to more easily blend in, Chuck made a show of looking at the art, but he was really looking at the fellow auction attendees. Casey and Sarah also spent their time observing the guests, but also checking on Chuck to see if he flashed. When they saw him flash, they looked at him expectantly, but he only shook his head and shrugged, gesturing to the Water Lilies painting. He had flashed on that, which wasn't news.
Casey and Sarah were in touch with Harris and Renny, who were covering other rooms of the auction. They had only been there twenty minutes or so when Harris said, over their earwigs, "Got him. Walker, Casey, we got him. We are taking him out of the building and moving to the safe house. Meet us there. Thanks for your help."
"Wait," said Sarah, "where's the safe house?"
Harris gave her an address in Long Beach.
Casey motioned Chuck over to the bar and poured him ginger ale. "Harris says they caught La Ciudad. Sarah and I are going to the safe house to help with the interrogation."
"Want me there?"
"Yeah, but you can't come. We can't explain your presence at all, much less tell them about the Intersect. We'll get copies of the tapes of the interrogation. Maybe you can flash on something the guy says or something."
"Ok, good luck. What do you want me to do?"
With a shrug, Casey said, "Up to you. Stay at the party. Go home for a rest. Hit the gym. Up to you."
"Ok, I think I'll stay for the auction. I've never seen an auction before and I'm curious."
"Ok, you good to get home?"
"Oh, sure. I'll take a cab," said Chuck. "Good luck, tonight. Hope the guy sings."
"Later," said Casey slapping him gently on the arm. As Chuck was rubbing the ache out of his arm, he caught Sarah's eye. She blew him a kiss. He did the same in response as she and Casey left the party.
Sarah and Casey made it back to the Crown Vic. As Casey started up the car, Sarah said, "Long Beach? What the hell? That's like an hour away. What's wrong with these people?"
"Unfamiliar city, I guess. I might make the same mistake operating in Manchester," said Casey.
"No, you wouldn't. You'd look at a goddamn map," she groused.
Casey shrugged and mentally prepared himself for the long drive.
Chuck stood by the bar sipping his ginger ale and people watching. An enormous man with a goatee beard and a head roughly the size and shape of a cinder block came up beside him and ordered a vodka on the rocks. His voice made deep voices sound shrill. Chuck noticed a tattoo on the back of the man's hand in the shape of a design he recognized.
Chuck turned to the man and asked, "You a fan of The Rough Badgers?" The man looked at Chuck with confusion until Chuck gestured to the band's logo on the back of his hand.
"Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I am. My favorite band," said the giant.
"Yeah. I liked their last album. Except for "No Nothing'. I didn't think that song was too good."
"Too much base," said the man with way too much base in his voice, nodding his head in agreement.
"Totally, and Vance doesn't normally make that mistake," said Chuck.
"He did in 'Last Chance" on the Vee album," said the giant. "That one had just the same problem."
"You know, now that I think of it, you are absolutely right. That one had too much base too. I'm Chuck, by the way." He stuck out his hand and shook with the bigger man. The man's hand was the size of a small shovel.
"Yuri," said Yuri.
"What's your favorite album by them?"
"Well...two of them...I like the music on Vee, but the lyrics are much better on Summer Hate. How about you?" asked Yuri.
"Long Road. I listen to it all the time. You ever see them in concert?"
"I did. Two years ago in Prague. Good concert. They were doing music from Vee."
"They are really good live. High energy. They are here in LA in a couple of months, I was thinking of getting tickets."
"Why don't you?" asked Yuri.
"I don't know. My new girlfriend isn't that into music."
"You must teach her. It's part of your job as her man," said Yuri.
Chuck smiled, laughed, and said, "Right again, my friend. I should. Will you be getting tickets?"
"No. I'm only here for a few more days. Business trip."
"Oh, too bad. Guess you can check the schedule to see where else they'll be next."
"I might do that. Thanks for the idea. I always forget to do these things until it's too late," said Yuri.
"Me too. What other bands do you like?" asked Chuck.
Before Yuri could answer, a woman joined them.
She was truly beautiful in a somewhat exotic way. Long, lustrous dark hair, dark eyes, and smiling lips, she was wearing long dangling earrings and a dark sleeveless dress that displayed a shapely figure. She smiled at them, showing strong white teeth and said, "So, who are you that you have stolen my Yuri?" She spoke with a slight Spanish accent, maybe Latin American.
Yuri grunted, and Chuck said with a smile, "I'm Chuck...well, Charles. Charles Carmichael. And honestly, had I known Yuri was yours I'd never have monopolized his time. A woman as beautiful as you should not be abandoned by her date."
"I am Malena," she reached forward to shake his hand. Her hand was warm and soft, her grip strong. "And, he's not my date, Mr. Carmichael. Yuri is here to protect me from the unwanted advances of single men. As is his partner." She gestured at a Yuri clone off to one side.
"Well, if that's their job, Malena, I think you are going to need a few more guys. Because, as big as these men are, they certainly aren't big enough to keep men from hitting on you unless all the men are blind. Seems like a lost cause, in my opinion."
Her laugh was charming and musical. With it, she tossed back her head and Chuck saw the scar on her neck. He flashed. Scenes of her being cut...soldiers...weapons...Middle East...La Cuidad. She was La Ciudad. Holy shit. And she killed anyone who saw her face. Holy shit, holy shit.
He looked at her face and was suddenly really, really nervous. "Are you always this charming, Mr. Carmichael?"
Casey, Sarah and the two MI-6 agents were all gone. And they had the wrong guy. Oh, God. He had to call them. He had to tell them that this was right guy...gal...Oh, God. And she had two bodyguards with her, each the size of Belarus.
"Not me. I ...I get nervous around beautiful women...I tend to stammer and I don't really know what to say...and ...um...can I get you a drink?"
"Yes, champagne, please."
He ordered her a glass of champagne. While they waited, he asked, "Are you here for the auction?"
With a faintly amused smile she said, "Yes. Are you?"
He grinned, wrinkling his nose a little bit and said, "Yes...I mean no. Wow, that was a pretty dumb question, wasn't it? I mean of course you are here for the auction. I'm here to look. At the paintings. Look at the paintings. I'm not sure I'm going to bid, but who knows? Are you going to bid?"
He handed her her champagne. "I may. If I find something here I like, I may choose to take it home." She sipped her champagne and gave him a frankly appraising stare with a tiny smile. He almost spilled his ginger ale.
"Ummm...should we look at the paintings, Malena? Maybe you will see something you like."
"Maybe, I will" she said.
They began to walk around the room with the auction items on display. Yuri and his friend followed them. They stopped to admire Water Lilies at Dusk. Chuck said, "Ah, yes. Water Lilies painted by Adolpho Bernini."
"How do you know that, Mr. Carmichael?"
"It's written on that little brass plaque right there." He gestured to the frame. She laughed again. Chuck continued, with a vaguely pompous academic air, "It does have a great deal of the influence of the Rossi school, in the mix of color and the prominent perspective. The use of light is particularly startling given the time frame in which it was commissioned by the Archduke of Tatooine. Sunsets are usually of a somewhat brighter hue."
"It sounds like you know a great deal about art, Mr. Carmichael."
"Absolutely not. I just made all that stuff up off the top of my head," he said with a goofy grin. "How did it sound?"
She laughed a deep genuine laugh. Even Yuri was chuckling. A man approached and reached out his hand for Chuck's. "Chuck?" he said. "Chuck Bartowski? It's me, Allan Watterman...From Stanford. How are you? Great to see you here. What's new?"
"Uhh, Allan, look I'm a little..."
Watterman reached for Malena's hand, "Hi, I'm Allan Watterman. I knew Chuck at Stanford."
"Ah, Allan, I'm going by Carmichael nowadays."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Watterman," said Malena, but she was no longer smiling.
Watterman appeared not to have noticed. "So, I have this company called Zink Link and..."
Chuck flashed. He said, "So Allan, having any trouble with all that insider trading stuff? You know, the offshore accounts in the Caymans? That kind of thing?"
Suddenly, Watterman looked like he might urinate himself. "What? How do you know that? Are you with the SEC? I have to go." He turned on his heel and fled.
Malena was still not smiling. Chuck said to her, "Can I tell you a secret?"
She said, "I look forward to it."
He said, "I never liked him at school."
She smiled slightly and said, "Was that when you were using your real name?"
"Well, it was when I was using the name on my birth certificate, but I didn't like that name, so, I'm changing it. I prefer Carmichael. I think it sounds cooler, more sophisticated. What do you think?"
"Maybe," said Malena. She was still suspicious of him, but didn't look ready to shoot him on the spot.
He reached out for help. "Yuri, help me out here, buddy. Don't you think Carmichael sounds cooler than Bartowski?"
"My last name is Gobrienko. So, sorry, no, I prefer Bartowski," When Chuck looked crestfallen, Yuri said with a shrug, "Well, you asked."
"I did. I did. Can't fault you there." He was desperately thinking of how to get away from these people without arousing suspicion, so he could call Sarah and Casey. If there was good news at the moment, it seems Malena was satisfied with his answer on the fake name, because she was smiling again.
The strains of music started and Malena, who clearly had set aside her discomfort with his fake name situation said, "Ah, a tango. I love a tango."
"Who doesn't?"
"Do you, Chuck? Do you tango?"
"Actually, no. I keep meaning to learn, but haven't had the time yet."
"Come with me. I'll teach you."
"Really? Here? Now?" he asked.
"Unless you are embarrassed to be seen dancing with me," she raised a challenging eyebrow. The thought that she might kill him if she got suspicious was never far from his mind. Hell, she might kill him anyway.
"You sure you aren't embarrassed to be seen teaching me? I have two left feet, lousy timing and no coordination."
"I'll take my chances, Chuck."
As Mozart's Duettino – Sull'aria began, Malena said, "Here, Chuck. Put your hand here, on my hip. Very good, now this. When I step back with my right foot, you step forward with your left," she began to move in time to the music and he did his best to keep up and mirror her foot movements. "Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow...ok, Chuck. Very good. You learn fast."
"That's because I'm terrified," She raised an eyebrow. That seemed to be her 'go-to' facial expression. "...of making you look foolish trying to teach a clod like me a passionate dance like the tango."
"Are you not a passionate man, Chuck?" Her eyes twinkled with merriment.
"Um...that is...I mean...a normal amount of passion...I mean...not like extra," he said.
She chuckled and smiled at him again and said, "You are intriguing, Chuck. You aren't like most men I meet. Tell me about yourself." Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Sarah had said almost the same thing when they first got together.
The dance ended and Chuck said, "I will do that, Malena. In just a few minutes. But right now, I'm going to start by telling you one particular thing about me, which is that I have to visit the little boy's room. I will be right back, though, I promise. Please don't dance with anyone else while I'm gone."
She smiled at him as he walked away. Outside the room, he asked someone which way to the men's room. The man, very large, with a closely shaved head, a small goatee beard and an English accent, said, "Oh, just heading there myself, mate. Come with me."
He led Chuck down a corridor to a quieter part of the hotel. Without warning, Chuck felt the back of his neck spasm and that feeling spread until his whole body was experiencing a muscle cramp at the same time. As he fell to the floor, a hood was placed over his head and the world went black.