A/N: If Federov had owned Chuck in 2007, he'd have lost it with the other awful business deals he engaged in that year.

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Casey stood perfectly still, rooted in place with shock, his mind blank. He was looking at a ghost. He didn't, of course, believe in ghosts, but there was one right there in front of him. This was a woman who had died. He had mourned her. He had cried for her. He made a point of getting drunk every year on the anniversary of her death.

But she was standing in front of him, looking back at him with shock, similarly frozen in place. She looked just a beautiful as she had in his memories. Her blue/gray eyes still held the passion and intelligence that had captivated him four years ago. Only now, they showed a complicated mix of recognition and dread. Her lips were still full, her legs still long and graceful.

Federov looked at his fiancee with confusion, maybe with a bit of concern. He looked back and forth between Casey and the woman he knew as Mara. Amy was doing the same thing. But neither Casey nor Mara had broken from the strange paralysis they found themselves in.

Amy immediately recognized that Federov was their target and whatever was happening between Casey and the woman could jeopardize any operation they might intend to mount against him. She had to break contact until she could figure out what the hell was going on. She shook Casey's arm and said, "Come on, honey. Enough vodka for you. Let's leave these nice people alone tonight and get you upstairs to bed." Turning to Federov, she said in a chipper voice, "G'night."

Still a little puzzled, and focused on Mara and Casey, Federov said in English, "Yes. Good night." Federov and Mara moved out of the elevator and Casey and Amy moved in, Amy just about pulling Casey by the arm. Casey had managed to look away from Mara by then, and was staring at the floor expressionlessly.

The doors closed and the elevator car began its ascent. Amy said, "Casey, what the hell was that about? I don't know what that story was, but Federov is going to remember us for a long time to come. Do you know the woman? Ivanov? You looked like you knew her. Like you were surprised to see her."

Casey didn't respond. He looked at Amy, but didn't really see her. He still seemed stunned and moved as if on auto-pilot. Amy wasn't at all sure what the hell was going on.

When they entered the suite she said, "Sarah." Sarah came out of her bedroom in a hotel robe. "We came face to face with Federov and the Ivanov woman he's marrying. Casey and the woman froze when they saw each other. It was bizarre. I got us away from them, but Casey's not talking."

He was still staring into the middle distance. Sarah said, "Casey. Casey," he finally looked her way. "What's up? What's going on?"

Amy said, "Come on, big guy. What's up? Tell us about the Ivanov woman. Did you sleep with her once, is that it?"

Casey's eyes flared with sudden anger at the question and he growled harshly, "Stop it. Just stop." He spun away from them and stepped out of the hotel suite onto the adjacent balcony.

Chuck had been watching from the door of his bedroom, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and concern for his friend. He and Sarah held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Then Chuck said, "I got this."

Less than a minute later Chuck quietly stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. The view south from Interlaken of the snow covered Alps was spectacular in the moonlight. Front and center among the peaks was the Eiger, with its sharp sheer north face looking like it had been roughly carved out from a larger conical mountain. As awesome as the view was, Chuck ignored it. He dropped Casey's jacket on the chair behind his friend and shrugged into his own jacket against the night cold. Casey was standing and looking out at the mountains, his big hands on the balcony railing. He wasn't moving and he wasn't making a sound.

Chuck sat down in the other chair silently, feeling the cold metal under his legs. A few months ago, Chuck would have peppered Casey with questions about the Ivanov woman. His curiosity and enthusiasm would have pulled question after question out of him. Chuck wasn't quite that man anymore and he had a much better feel for Casey at this point in their relationship. He didn't know what the older man needed, but he knew better than to ape Amy and try to interrogate Casey. What he did know was that his friend, one of his best friends in the world, was going through something bad. Chuck was going to be there for him, whatever that meant. At the moment it meant just literally being there.

Chuck took a Costa Gravan cigar out of his coat pocket and clipped the end off with a small cigar cutter he'd purchased in the lobby store with the cigar. He put the cigar in his mouth, tasting the bite of the quality tobacco. Taking a disposable lighter from his pocket, he spent almost a full minute getting the cigar lit, battling the wind and rotating the cigar over the flame until he had it pulling clean and burning evenly. Once it was burning to his satisfaction, he nudged Casey's arm. When Casey turned his head, Chuck held out the burning cigar to him. Casey took it and put it into his mouth, drawing in smoke as he did so.

Chuck spent the next couple of minutes getting a second cigar out and lit. By the time Chuck had his own cigar burning, Casey had donned his ski jacket against the cold as well.

They sat together silently on the balcony, smoking cigars and looking at the grandeur of the Swiss Alps. Chuck lost track of how much time passed, but his cigar was more than half gone before Casey spoke.

His breath misting in the cold night air, looking like a wispy imitation of the cigar smoke, Casey said, his voice quiet and much softer than normal, "I met her in a flower market. In Rome. I can tell you that Ilsa, that's her name...the name I knew her by, anyway...Ilsa Trinchina...she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She was an AP photographer originally from Russia but living in Paris. I was in Rome on a stopover between missions. I told her I was an energy consultant. I thought it would be a quick fling, just a long weekend kind of thing...but...but it wasn't. When I had to head out on the next mission, we stayed in touch. She was traveling the world too. One war-zone, one hot-spot after another. Sometimes we could meet, but sometimes we just spoke on the phone. I knew it wasn't ...you know...permanent. My job...her job...could take either of us away. You know? It was what it was and there was nothing that was going to change that. I wasn't going to let myself develop feelings for her. Not like what you and Sarah have for each other. That's not for me...not any more...not...anyway... We managed to get together in person a half dozen times over about nine months. Then, it'll be four years ago in April, we were together in Grozny, in Chechnya. The insurgency was heating up there. Both of us keeping an eye on things, her for AP, me for the NSA. There was a terrorist bombing at a store. She was killed along with everyone else in the store at the time."

Casey was silent for a long while after that. Chuck hadn't spoken once since coming out onto the balcony. Finally, he said, quietly, "Except that she wasn't."

"Except that she wasn't," said Casey in little more than a whisper, staring at the glowing end of his cigar. He sat quietly for another minute or two and then stood up and threw the cigar stub off the balcony into the snow below. "Come on, kid. Let's go talk to the rest of the team."

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Victor Federov held the door to the hotel suite open for Mara and followed her inside.

Speaking in Russian, he said, softly, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

With her back to him, taking off her earrings at the dressing table, she said, "About what?"

"The man at the elevator. The man who startled you so badly. The man whose very look gave you a headache and brought you back to the room here early. That man."

Mara turned around and said, with love in her voice, "Oh, Victor, I'm so sorry we had to leave your friends early. I know you wanted to spend time with them. You didn't have to come with me just because I wasn't feeling well. I wouldn't mind if you stayed or went back downstairs. I know you like to drink and laugh. It's one of the things I love about you. You have so much stress in your life, I love to see you relax."

Federov chuckled mirthlessly, and said, "No, my love. I want to be with you. But that was a masterful job of avoiding the question I asked."

Mara looked temporarily confused, then her gaze cleared, "Oh, that man? I have no idea. I was startled because he was so rude to stare at me like that. Very uncultured. It made me uncomfortable. I have no idea who he was, but I hope I don't see him around here too often. I don't think I like him."

Watching her closely, with intelligent eyes, Federov said, "Ah, well at least that's past us now. We'll try to keep out of that pig's way." He shrugged. "Do you want me to have some of the boys speak to him? Maybe suggest that he find another hotel?"

"Oh, no. That's not necessary. We can't have your men beat up everyone who is rude. They would spend all their time punching people. It's not that big a deal. I've forgotten about it already," she said.

"I'm so glad." He reached out and brushed his hand gently down her cheek. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better now?" There was nothing but warmth in his voice.

"Why yes, there is, my Cossack stallion. I'm so glad you asked," she said with a lascivious grin, mischief dancing in her eyes. She moved into his arms and kissed him passionately, her mouth open and her tongue seeking entrance to his. Her hands were undoing his belt as his arms came around her back and pulled her into a strong embrace.

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Amy said, "So, she faked her own death?"

"Or, it was faked without her knowledge at the time," said Sarah.

"Or it was a real explosion and she ended up with amnesia," suggested Chuck.

"No amnesia," said Amy. "She recognized Casey. No question. She was as shocked as he was."

"So, what's her game?" asked Sarah. "Why not acknowledge him?"

"Who knows?" said Casey. "There's clearly something else happening here."

"Maybe she's a conwoman," suggested Sarah. "Out to get his money."

"Boy, won't she be disappointed?" said Chuck.

"Maybe she's a spy and it's a seduction mission," said Amy.

"A year and a half? Jeez, that sucks," said Sarah.

"But for which side?" asked Casey. "She could be FSB for all we know."

"Or she could have been FSB when she was with you and is now retired and in love," said Sarah.

"All we know is she's using the Mara Ivanov name now," said Chuck.

"That could be her real name. Maybe Trinchina was the fake name," said Sarah.

"Maybe they are both fake and her name is something else entirely," said Chuck.

"True," said Casey.

They fell silent for a few moments. Finally, Chuck said, "Guys, we're running around in circles. The only things we know for sure are.." He began to count on raised fingers. "The woman was once known as Ilsa Trinchina and is now known as Mara Ivanov, she knew Casey four years ago, she recognized him today, she didn't die in an explosion in Grozny, and she is marrying Federov on Sunday. Anything else we are doing is just speculation. We don't even know if this has anything to do with our assignment here. Maybe it goes in the report to Langley, maybe it doesn't. I don't know. Casey, until we know more, I'm deferring to you on that one." Casey nodded to Chuck. "The truth is, we don't have enough information to draw any real conclusions. We need more facts before we can say anything meaningful."

"You're right, kid," said Casey. "We are just playing with ourselves here."

"Ok. We'll sleep on it. It's late. I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. It was a long night last night," said Sarah.

"But fun," said Chuck with a smile.

"Yeah," said Sarah. "Fun. Night, Case. Night, Amy."

"Night, guys. I know I've only been on the team for a few hours, but this is already more fun than I ever had with Barry," said Amy with a giggle.

Chuck and Sarah went into their room and closed the door.

Amy and Casey moved into their room. Casey was giving Amy first crack at the bathroom, but before she did so, she put a soft hand on his arm and said, "I'm sorry, Casey. About Ilsa. I'm sorry."

He nodded and grunted appreciatively.

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Victor Federov was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Had he been allowed to smoke in the hotel, he'd have been smoking. He wasn't allowed to and it was too cold to step out onto the balcony to light up, so he just wished silently for a cigarette.

He was in the big bed in the dark hotel room and listening to Mara snore lightly. He twisted his head to look at her. Her mouth was slightly open, her lips soft, her dark hair mussed. She was so very beautiful, but that was only a small part of the reason he loved her.

When his first wife Nadia had died it had almost broken him. If not for the strong support of Feliks, he might have just given up. He hadn't been back to Greece since and might never go again. He'd been alone for so long before that, climbing the ladder of success in the vicious world that he'd inhabited. The murders, the betrayals, the complicated deals and double crosses. All that money. He had found that the numbers in his bank accounts had long ago lost all meaning to him. The money was the measure of success in his world. A sign that he was a winner at the game. But it really didn't matter beyond that, because until he'd met Nadia he'd been alone.

He didn't think, at the time of her death, that he'd ever love again. He'd limited himself to the Russian prostitutes sent his way. They were skilled and accomplished at their jobs, but he didn't care about them in the slightest, not any more than they had cared about him. Their company was merely to scratch a physical itch. Even when with them, he was alone again.

Until he'd met Mara. She was a new hire in the local flower shop that he passed daily near his Moscow apartment. As he walked from his garage with his bodyguards, she had smiled at him. The next day, when she smiled again, he had stopped and bought flowers for his apartment. The day after that, he'd stopped and bought flowers for her. She'd laughed – God, her laugh had sounded just like music - and said she couldn't accept flowers from him. He took her that night to the most expensive restaurant in the city. She was shy and made him court her. Too often golddigging women chased him, but not Mara. He had to pursue her.

On the outside, everyone could see her beauty, but her beauty on the inside she only let certain people see. Her kindness and gentleness. Her dry sense of humor that always made him laugh and found the absurdities in every situation. Her fierce intelligence. She could analyze a passage from a book better than a university professor. Her passion. The little furrow in her brow when she was concentrating and the little smile she gave him when she caught him staring at her. It was a quirk of her personality that she never talked about her past. She never volunteered her history or family life. She was a mystery to him. He didn't mind and didn't press her. He knew she had a life before she'd met him. If she wanted to keep that to herself, that was her business. It drove Feliks insane, but Federov trusted her. He loved her and that brought with it his trust.

The man in the lobby was doubtless a prior lover and she was embarrassed to say so. He would mention it to Feliks in the morning and Feliks could look into the man. Just to make sure that he did not mean Mara any harm.