A/N: All of Fat Lady in one chapter. Sarah's pain again is ignored by Chuck. Casey is a constant pain in the ass, which I tried to have her rationalize. A few lines in this episode really bug me...the 'knows the real me' and Jill's blatant arrogance. It always bothered me how this plan Fulcrum devised all along only seemed possible after a series of accidents, but Jill would have used those to her advantage, making it seem like she didn't have control, when she did. My opinion anyway. A few more wrinkles-Jill, a Fulcrum agent, is alone in Chuck's apartment for how long? Ellie and Devon are not in this episode (I think some cut scenes explain they were at a work conference, so I used that) but what was the explanation about Jill? Did Morgan think Chuck was cheating on Sarah? I also realize if this were remotely real, Chuck and Sarah would have not kept their under garments on in the shower, but, the show is the show. Anyway, here goes.

Chuck and Jill started dating. Got back together, got reacquainted—however one could describe it, that's what happened. We explained it to Beckman much the same way as we explained Lou Palone, only this time, it was different. First, this lasted longer than the two dates he went on with Lou before Chuck's spy life interfered, or more exactly, until I kissed him in front of the Bryce bomb. More importantly, second, this relationship moved to serious faster than it would have had they not known each other before.

As I said before, Chuck was still in love with Jill, the girl he thought had left him in college, but that he now had back again, for a second chance. He started dating a girl he was in love with. Much later, he would do the same with me, as weird as that sounds, but that is how I know. Chuck wasn't a casual date kind of guy. If he was interested, he was looking for a relationship. And in a relationship, he was looking for…well, the one, as some people say. He wanted what his sister had with Devon. For five years he had wallowed in defeat and self-pity, longing for that kind of relationship.

A part of him thought that maybe he could have that with me, but, because of our situation, as much as I wanted it, as much as I needed it, dreamed of it, wept over it…it was impossible. An impossible dream.

Chuck believed he had been given a one in a million chance to rebuild something that had burned to the ground, a chance to regain what he had thought lost forever. In the end, I wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't with me. I let him go, inside myself, so that he could have this resurrected dream. Or at least I tried. Even as I told myself that, I knew I couldn't let him go, not the way I should have if he belonged to someone else, loved someone else. Thoughts like that doomed me to a life full of loneliness. But I had resigned myself to that fate a long time ago, after Sam brought up my forfeiture of normal while we were training at the Farm.

It was easier at the Farm to accept my fate, having meaningless sex with Sam as a way to distract me from that feeling. Now, I had seen what a real life could look like, longed for it specifically with Chuck, but I was reminded again, rather harshly, that I still couldn't have that.

What made this worse, infinitely worse, was that Casey and I still had to monitor Chuck 24 hours a day and protect him. That involved monitoring his interactions with Jill, his romantic interactions with Jill, and protecting them both. Casey did what I expected he would do–jab me at every opportunity, remind me of what was happening when I wasn't the one watching. I know part of that was just who he was, detesting any kind of outward emotional display. The other part, which I don't think I understood until after Chuck and I were married, was that he knew how we felt about each other, and it bothered him that we weren't…fighting…for it. That we had given up our dream of being together. He was right about that. I was just too blind to see that I should have fought harder.

I asked Chuck point blank what was our cover…now that he was dating Jill. We hadn't fake…or for real…broken up. Ellie and Devon had been away at a medical conference in Sacramento, having left the day after the incident at the hotel with the bioweapon. The conference was a week long, but they stayed for an extended long weekend, adding a short getaway to the work trip. I know Chuck was reluctant to tell his sister he was dating Jill again, knowing how much Ellie loathed her for how she had treated him in the past. He just did nothing, saying he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Meaning he was thinking about how he was going to tell her. Morgan still thought Chuck and I were together, so Chuck kept his trysts with Jill from his best friend as well.

On day five of Jill and Chuck dating, Chuck finally had enough when he realized Casey was monitoring the roof of the Buy More, where he had tried to take Jill to avoid our prying eyes.

Casey was more than happy to monitor the video and audio feed. I made it a point to find things, anything to do so I wouldn't have to pay that close attention. I did research, scanned new intelligence, and even updated our files in Castle. Busy work. The thought of glancing at the screen and seeing them kissing was painful, more than I could take, more than I was capable of hiding from Casey.

He still wouldn't leave me alone. He wondered why I wasn't jealous, or why I wasn't acting jealous. I was just glad he didn't realize how much effort I was putting in to distract myself. I told Casey it was just a cover, what I had now been repeating to myself every day like a mantra. Fake dating. Not real. Chuck wanted something real, and that, never, could be me. He had made that loud and clear at the beginning of October.

That same evening, Beckman contacted us in Castle about our next mission. She had found intel concerning Dr. Lafleur, Jill's boss who had been killed by Fulcrum. The intelligence suggested Lafleur had a list of the code names of Fulcrum operatives he had been working with while employed by Cole MacGregor. Her orders were to find the list and keep it out of Fulcrum's hands. She ordered us to take Chuck to see if he could flash and help us locate it.

I knew there had to be more to Lafleur's involvement for Fulcrum to have murdered him the way they did and then poison a room full of scientists. None of those actions made sense with what we knew. Finding out later that Jill had been Fulcrum the entire time made that bioweapon incident even muddier. But if Fulcrum knew he had this list, killing him got him out of the way. I know now it got Lafleur out of the way so that Jill could insinuate herself into Chuck's life to find that list with impunity. I knew none of that at the beginning, but it's impossible to reflect on the past now that I know everything without putting all the pieces of the puzzle together, pieces I found one at a time while it was happening.

After those orders came down, Chuck came charging into the Orange Orange, upset about the spying overkill on his date. I ran upstairs from Castle to handle it. He was irritated. I apologized for Casey's aggression, and then told Chuck about the mission Beckman had just given us. He was in a hurry, yes-ing me, telling me Jill was waiting for him. It was like a verbal shove, pushing me away from his life. So simple, but it hurt more than I can explain. I wasn't used to being brushed off by Chuck.

I called out to him before he left, scooting around the counter until I was standing in front of him. I could smell that same musky perfume from the restaurant, Jill's perfume, stronger than his normal scent. I asked him if everything was alright.

He was surprised, like it didn't make sense why I would ask him that. Then he thought it was spy related. I had to tell him it was a "friend" thing, even though I wasn't sure if he thought of me that way. I was worried, but mostly because Jill had hurt him so badly before, and I wanted to make sure that he really was ok.

He said being with Jill was like having his old life back. Literally the only thing he had been wanting since the day I met him, the day after Bryce had sent him the Intersect and took that old life from him.

He said he had forgotten what it was like to be with someone who knew the real him.

I covered quickly, telling him how great Jill seemed, but those words went straight through me. The real him? I didn't know the real him? It made me wonder just who he thought he was…if I didn't know him. He knew me–he had told me that in my hotel room over a cheeseburger. He did know me better than anyone ever had. But I didn't know him?

I promised him I would talk to Casey about the surveillance. I kept smiling…until he left. I shook my head, frustrated, wondering who this person was that I had never seen…but that Jill knew after five years away from him.

The next day, I was getting ready for the mission in Casey's apartment while Chuck got ready in his. Jill was there with him. Why was she still in Burbank, after she had only just appeared for that conference? She told Chuck she had quit Cole McGregor and was now job hunting. She extended her stay at the hotel she was in while she was looking to find a permanent place. Her story anyway. I never knew what the real story was, not about that.

Our cover was a businessman and a prostitute. It fit with the hotel's reputation and it wouldn't be questioned, no luggage, no reservation. Did I…make the most of that opportunity? I'm embarrassed to say that I did. I say that now, but I was too oblivious to my jealousy at the time to know when I chose my outfit, I was competing with Jill, who I thought, in all honesty, dressed a little frumpily. It sounds strange, but I wished I could pull off frumpy. It was more…normal. But I digress.

Chuck was typically flummoxed as he walked into Casey's apartment. I saw the way Jill looked at me, surprised and then with narrowed eyes. I hated that I liked it, getting under her skin. Chuck also lamented all the way to the hotel about how I looked, how we looked. It bothered me, like he was belittling the situation, and by association, me. I was a little snappy, telling him we needed to sell it. Casey posed as the bellhop.

We entered the room we rented, where Casey had already set up under the guise of his bell hopping. We had surveillance equipment, a change of clothes, and the plans to climb through the ducts to the room the FBI had sealed off from the hallway.

I told Chuck to change out of his suit. I reached for the hem of my dress and started pulling it over my head without thinking. He spun, clumsy, keeping his eyes off my scantily clad body, always the gentleman. He kept his eyes downturned as he had to reach back, essentially changing in front of each other without looking. Casey explained while we did so.

We had an uncomfortable climb through tight ductwork to get to the adjacent room.

I believe Chuck legitimately pocket-dialed Jill while we were in the ducts, so she heard what we were saying. Granted, Jill was alone in Chuck's apartment while the mission was ongoing. Yes, a Fulcrum agent, alone in the Intersect's apartment. Fortunately, because Chuck also lived with Ellie and Devon, there was little to no incriminating evidence of Chuck as a spy there. We were lucky in that regard. Apparently that accidental call was the reason Jill followed him on the mission, which was hard to dispute because of the accidental nature of it. However, Jill was a spy, and spies were resourceful. It was the perfect excuse, one we didn't question. We provided it, but I'm sure, if we hadn't, she would have found another equally compelling reason to show up and see what it was we were doing.

We climbed down through the ventilation duct and into Guy's room. We searched the room. While we were searching, Chuck found a Venetian puzzle box, on which he flashed. Chuck tried to get our attention, but we heard gunshots outside the door of Guy's room and quickly hustled back into the ducts to get back to the room we had rented.

We waited until we got back to our room to try and open the box. It was locked. Chuck figured out that the combination was a Fibonacci sequence. Without using the Intersect, he figured it out in a matter of seconds. He was pretty proud of himself; I was impressed.

Chuck opened the box. There was nothing in it, at least nothing that made sense right away.

And then it exploded in our faces.

I screamed, "Casey, gas!"

Casey took off, out of the room and harm's way.

My survival instincts kicked it. Decontamination. The hotel shower would have to do.

Chuck was freaking out. I pulled his shirt over his head, started dragging him by his belt towards the bathroom. I had the belt buckle undone and his pants down right outside the bathroom door. I pushed him towards the shower and undressed in two seconds. I turned the water on and pulled him in with me.

No time to wait for warm water. It was freezing, like needles on my skin. I grabbed the soap and started washing him. His body, his face, his hair, frenetic in my movements. Then I washed myself. I was terrified for him, too worried to stop and actually think about what we were doing, what my hands felt like on his body, especially with all his muscles tensed from the cold.

I turned away from him, washing my hair. I know he started washing my back. I feel like that must have been when it hit him, that we were in the shower together, barely dressed, and that he was touching me…maybe not in a sexual way, but the most intimately he had ever touched me. He stopped, pulled his hands away.

The water had just started to get warm when I shut it off. He was already in his towel and on his way out of the bathroom. He didn't watch me dry off.

While I was alone in the bathroom, I heard the knock on the door. I told Chuck to go get it; it was Casey.

No, it was Jill. She told Chuck she asked the bellman for his room number. Going through the reports after all was said and done, I couldn't confirm that explanation. The hotel staff was questioned by the FBI due to the murder of the two agents guarding Guy's door. No one asked about Charles Carmichael. No bellman admitted to being asked where his room was. The Fulcrum agent who killed those FBI agents had to have contacted her and told her where we were. It was an elaborate show, it seemed, to get Jill close enough to get the list, the shooting a red herring to keep us from being suspicious.

She acted hurt, betrayed, when she saw me emerge from the bathroom in my bra and underwear. Chuck was close to hysterical, trying to explain. I felt terrible, realizing at that moment that though I had maybe secretly wanted to make Jill jealous, I didn't want to cause problems in his relationship, or hurt him in any way. She stormed off, not giving Chuck a chance to explain. In all the chaos, I never noticed she got a perfect view of what it was we had found–the puzzle box on the table, open, pink dust all around.

I apologized to Chuck, sincerely. He was anxious, frantic, pacing around, wanting to go after Jill but unable to until Casey told us what we had been exposed to. I found robes in the closet, putting one on myself and then handing him one. I had never been self-conscious before, quite used to dressing for exposure and display, but after that, the thought of Chuck seeing me so scantily clad made me uncomfortable. He was someone else's boyfriend.

Casey found out it was fruit punch.

I felt awful before, and learning that all that was for nothing, made me feel worse. We got dressed out of sight of each other in the hotel room once Casey left.

Chuck went back to the Buy More and Casey and I went to Castle. A few hours later, Chuck showed up in Castle…with Jill.

I couldn't believe he had done it without consulting us first, even if he had blindfolded her. Turns out she didn't even ask, he just went with it, based on what she said to him. She was a very good spy, making him believe that all the steps he took were made with his own free will, in no way manipulated by her, when she had control of him the entire time.

Jill was very quizzical about what we were doing. I know Chuck only told her we were looking for Guy's research. She had been looking for the list all along, so she had to have deduced that was what we were looking for as well. She built upon what we already had.

She was…mildly condescending when she asked us about what kind of fruit punch, the exact formula. Then she asked for a mass spectrometer and wanted to be allowed to do her own research to see if she could "help." I should have been more suspicious than I was. Once again, my emotions, my smothered jealousy and my sad attempt to disguise it, clouded my objective thinking. She didn't know what we were looking for…why so quick to try and solve a problem she didn't technically understand?

Jill got to work. She was confident, all of the information she was gathering and the skills required to gather it were in her wheelhouse, her expertise. Casey jabbed at me again, kidding about Jill's nerdiness, calling out my lack thereof. It's awful to admit how that got under my skin, how…inadequate…that made me feel.

Maybe she did know him…the nerd in him, the guy I met in the Buy More. I knew someone different, the man he was capable of becoming, the hero, and not just the nerd. It would take him finding that within himself for him to believe it, even though I always knew.

She found out it was Rootin' Raspberry Hi-C. We started brainstorming about what it could mean. Jill focused on the "rootin'" part. I mentioned open waters, as in high seas. Jill praised that, which made me feel belittled. Chuck then noted it was a music box, and that high C could mean a musical note.

Casey belted it out…and the secret compartment in the box opened. It revealed a pair of opera glasses.

Chuck flashed when he held them up. He disguised it, though I did notice Jill eyeing him suspiciously. He used a bit of history trivia to cover up how the knowledge that the handle of the glasses was a key, information he got from his flash.

We had to go to the opera.

Jill offered the information that Guy loved the opera and that he had box seats. We went straight there, while the opera company was rehearsing.

While Casey and I were on the main level, Chuck and Jill had found Guy's family's opera box and subsequently another box in a hidden compartment. They brought it down to us; we attempted to open it on the stage, where the props made it easier to access.

Casey took off the lid…to reveal a timer ticking down. It was wired. It was a bomb. With less than one minute on the timer.

Casey yelled, alerting everyone we needed to evacuate the building. I tried to grab Chuck and get him out of there, but Jill argued with me. She said a bomb wouldn't make sense, that Guy wanted to help people, not hurt people. Her rationale didn't make sense either, but we were running out of time.

I argued back, telling her it looked like a bomb. What if she stayed to try and solve it and she was wrong?

She got very smug…and told me, not in so many words, that she was never wrong.

That was certainly bitchy, but what actually hurt was that Chuck believed her, and disregarded what I was saying.

I looked at Chuck in exasperation.

He just started working with Jill to solve the puzzle. I heard him say she played the violin…and that he played the flute.

I used to know how to play the violin when I was younger…although Chuck didn't know that, not here. I never knew Chuck had played the flute when he was young. Maybe I didn't know him at all.

I gave them as much leeway as I could, but time was running out. I tried to get him to leave with me again, and he refused, basically telling me he agreed…that she was never wrong.

I wanted to leave. But I couldn't. He chose at that moment to die with Jill if she was wrong…rather than come with me and live. I stayed…because it didn't matter to me if I lived…and he didn't. And I would still choose to die beside him, even if he put Jill in between us. Damn, that hurt, like an ice pick through my chest.

They solved it with seven seconds left on the timer. Out popped the flash drive.

Jill saw exactly what it was that Guy had been hiding from her, a Fulcrum agent in his midst.

She gushed all over Chuck, kissing him. I had to look away. The spectacle surely distracted us from the other Fulcrum agent who was observing, and whatever else Jill had secretly communicated to him while he was lurking.

We went back to Castle and contacted Beckman. We loaded the flash drive into the Castle computer. We started running a decryption algorithm, which could take quite a bit of time.

Chuck had left with Jill and they went back to Chuck's apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him on his bed with Jill. I excused myself quickly before Casey could comment.

I barely slept that night.

When I went to work the next day, Chuck wasn't at the Buy More. I went to Castle and asked Casey if he'd heard, since he was doing the surveillance duty. He told me Chuck went off grid. A getaway with Jill, I thought.

I didn't hear Chuck come back to Castle at first, frantic because a Fulcrum agent had taken Jill hostage and was demanding the flash drive for her life. Chuck had come back to take it, to save Jill. He asked Casey for help, but Casey refused. Mission first.

Chuck grabbed the drive and locked Casey in. That's when I was alerted.

I came after him, gun drawn, telling him out loud that if he tried to take it, I had to stop him. It was more me reminding myself what my job was, what I was expected to do…but there was no way I could do that, ever. Not even when I believed my orders were to kill him.

I let him go. He apologized, telling me, "It's Jill."

Chuck's code for what mattered to him. It's Morgan…it's Casey…it's Sarah. This time, it was Jill. I watched him run out of there, feeling my insides withering.

I released Casey from his barricade and got to work tracking Chuck. Casey got on my case about not shooting Chuck.

"He's the Intersect!"

"Is that all he is?"

More than one person would ask me that; Casey was just the first. Everyone who asked knew the answer was no, that wasn't all he was. That was what mattered the least. He was Chuck, my Chuck. My everything. Even if he belonged to someone else.

Casey and I followed the tracker back to the opera house. Casey went down to the stage where Chuck and Jill were. I spotted the sharp shooter in the balcony and went to neutralize him. I came at him, legs and arms flying, grabbing his gun and knocking him over the balcony railing with a sharp blow to his head with his own gun. Then I aimed the gun at the Fulcrum agent holding Jill hostage.

The agent demanded the list, threatening Chuck. Casey, in his infinite wisdom, pulled his own gun on Chuck, telling him pretty plainly that he wasn't me; he wasn't afraid to do his duty. It threw off the Fulcrum agent, but they were still at an impasse.

I watched Chuck slide the flash drive across the floor to the man with the gun. Casey tried to stop him; from my vantage point, I couldn't see the wink Chuck gave Casey before he did so. The agent crushed the drive under his heel.

He pushed Jill forward, into Chuck's arms. Casey shouted for me to shoot, which I did, only I missed and he got away. I would see him again, Edgar, but not for another three years. More on that later.

Chuck comforted Jill after that experience. It was extremely hard to watch. He loved her. I could see it as plain as day on his face.

Casey called the cleaners, and the usual scene processing commenced. I took charge of Jill in that chaos, making sure I explained to everyone who she was and what she was doing. That was when Chuck told Casey he made a copy of the drive before he left the Buy More with it, something that by happenstance he just happened to not say in front of Jill because she was with me.

Jill thanked me for saving her life, and apologized for not trusting me with Chuck. Once more, she was a good spy. I never questioned her sincerity…about any of it. Maybe because part of her was telling the truth. As much as she lied and deceived him, I always thought a part of her honestly loved him, and she took the good parts of that and embellished, to make herself more authentic. She did love him, once, but not enough. Not the way he deserved to be loved.

I asked her to not hurt him again.

She lied, promising me she wouldn't. She told me she cared about him, which may have been partly true, which was why I couldn't tell she was lying.

I made sure to let her know that I was still here to protect him—from everything. Her face was strange when I said that. I said it casually, but I meant it, at least partially, as a threat.

In the morning, we were back in Castle, though neither of us had slept at all.

Chuck and Jill were in his bedroom, on the surveillance feed. I tried to distract myself with my work. Jill took off her blouse and covered the camera with it.

It was at that instant the decryption key was found by the computer. Casey and I focused on our task, checking the information as it appeared on the screen.

I know I've mentioned this before, but it's worth saying again. Casey thought it was funny…torturing me with the sounds of Chuck and Jill having sex. I focused all my energy on the Castle computer, but Casey was relentless. He turned down the sound, but would randomly turn it back up. I honestly don't know why he did that, when he knew how much he was hurting me. Other than that was the point…to make me feel what I was afraid to feel.

Heavy breathing…the bed squeaking…moaning…gasping. What I didn't actually hear, I imagined…and it was killing me. She was the aggressor, dominant, what little I could hear of her voice was telling him what to do.

Even if he was technically her mark, she fucked him like she wanted to, like she enjoyed it. He listened to her orders. I don't think the sounds she made were faked. I don't enjoy thinking of my husband with other women any more than he doesn't want to hear about me and other men…but I know things I can't unknow after all this time.

Jill may have been fucking him, but he was making love to her. Or at least, that was his intention. Hard to do when your partner is lying. Chuck only knows how to be one way, his heart too pure, too genuine to be anything other than he is. Without being crass, I think Jill knew fucking her mark, though never advisable, would feel incredibly good. She'd fucked him before, all the while he was making love to her. Maybe that was her weakness…craving really good sex. She certainly didn't love him…and I contend that perhaps she never really did, though I don't argue with Chuck about this. He was there with her, before she gave her life to Fulcrum, a virgin in bed with his first love. Maybe she did love him then…just not enough, not more than she loved herself and her own goals.

When we saw Jill's name and picture on that file…it was like the earth had stopped spinning on its axis.

Jill was Fulcrum.

It was our job to protect him. And we had unknowingly let him get in bed, literally, with a Fulcrum agent, an agent in an organization that existed almost solely to acquire the Intersect.

I had never been more frightened for Chuck than I was in those few seconds.

Casey and I ran out of there like the building was on fire. Casey drove, weaving through traffic like he had emergency lights on. The tires squealed, horns honked. We made it from Castle to Echo Park in 15 minutes, which was a record. Chuck's watch was still registering in his apartment, in his bedroom.

If Ellie and Devon had been home, our covers would have all been blown. We almost broke down the door of Chuck's apartment, and straight down the hall to his bedroom, guns blazing. I tried to not think about what I was going to see, pushing it to the back of my mind, telling myself his safety mattered first, everything else second.

His bed was empty.

The bed was unmade, a condition in which Chuck never left his room.

The room reeked of sex. There was a condom wrapper on the floor.

And his watch lay, abandoned, on the nightstand.

Casey looked frightened, which was frightening to me, since I couldn't remember seeing him look that way, ever.

Jill was Fulcrum. Jill had Chuck. And we had no idea where she had taken him, and no way to find them. Worst case scenario…on.