I know how the finale of my last story, "May the Best Man Win," riled up some emotions with the ending. But never fear, LittleCandyMan is here… wow; I cannot believe I just wrote that. I think I should be shot on sight for that horrible rhyme. But in all seriousness, this is a sequel story to the last one and starts off immediately after the end of the prequel.

I do not own Chuck.

December 25, 2004

Sarah, Casey, and Bryce are standing inside the newly developed NSA base beneath the store Sarah was working at as a cover, the Orange Orange. The large monitor in front of the table displays the diminutive general staring at her team. "Congratulations are in order," Beckman begins joyously. "Not only is Fulcrum finished, but we have Roark in custody too."

"With the help of Agent Carmichael," Sarah adds in as she is still pained by his leaving and the government's treatment of him. "If anything, he deserves to be labeled a patriot for what he's done for this country."

"I'm aware that his body wasn't found in the debris," Beckman sighs tiredly.

"General, let me head a search party for him," Sarah pleads calmly. "Let him stand trial for the murder of Graham, even if he is innocent. He has been an integral part of our war against Fulcrum. He singlehandedly gave us the location of Fulcrum's headquarters and hand delivering Roark himself to us."

"Which you disobeyed a direct order when accepting his 'Christmas present'," Beckman explains condescendingly.

Sarah stays quiet because she cannot explain how many opportunities she had to arrest him, but instead made love with him and let him run away. She let him leave her all alone… again.

"Carmichael is no longer of importance to us," Beckman explains as she truly believes Chuck is innocent but not everyone relies on the words of generals and partners like they do evidence. She'd rather Chuck be on the run then to be in prison.

"But he's the Intersect!" Sarah shouts affronted. Casey and Bryce just watch the exchange between agent and general. Casey wouldn't dare talk back to his superior officer and Bryce has already given into the fact that there is nothing they can do for Chuck.

"I'm aware of that," Beckman responds disgruntledly. She dislikes her agents talking back to her.

"And you're willing to have an Intersect running around doing god knows what?" Sarah questions heatedly. She hates how she is making Chuck out to be a potential enemy but she needs to find him; even if it is only to run away with him.

"Agent Walker, you're being sent back to the CIA for further assignment," Beckman states, ignoring Sarah's rational question.

"And what about Agent Larkin?" Sarah queries angrily.

"Agent Larkin will continue his work here for the time being," Beckman explains.

"So you're sending me back and not him? Am I a loose cannon? Do I need to be evaluated for mental instability too?" Sarah demands in disbelief.

"If you continue like this, it may be necessary," Beckman states unemotionally. "This conversation is over, Agent Walker."

"This is crap," Sarah mumbles as she crosses her arms in protest and storms out of Castle.

December 26, 2004

Sarah walks into the waiting room that was once for Graham's office. She is wearing a grey business suit top and a matching pencil skirt. Sarah sees a familiar face sitting at the desk in Jennifer, Graham's assistant. "Sarah!" Jennifer nearly squeals as she fights the urge to run and hug Sarah happily. "It's been so long."

"Hi, Jennifer," Sarah responds slightly coldly. "I'm not really in a good mood right now."

"Oh," Jennifer slumps solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I just need to talk with acting director Anderson," Sarah responds disheartened.

"Okay," Jennifer nods somberly as she wishes she could help brighten Sarah's spirits. "Let me just page him."

Sarah sits down and ponders what to do. She feels so alone without Chuck and when she thinks of him, anger, pain, and confusion flows through her. Why couldn't he tell me he was leaving in person? How could he just leave me all alone when he meant everything to me? I gave him my heart and he ran away.

"Anderson will see you now," Jennifer interrupts Sarah's musings.

"Thank you," Sarah nods appreciatively as she ducks into Graham's old office.

"Agent Walker," Anderson smirks.

I hate smirkers, Sarah grumbles quietly.

"It's a pleasure to have your acquaintance," Anderson continues with a smirk nearing the naughtiness a man gets when he takes pleasure in tying up a woman and raping her for his own sick sadistic pleasure.

"The pleasure's all yours," Sarah responds coldly. She can tell that Anderson loves his new occupation. "Comfortable with the new job?" Sarah asks harmlessly.

"Quite so," Anderson nods happily. "Graham was good, but he never used the potential the CIA has."

"Like keeping secrets?" Sarah smirks haughtily as she remembers something Chuck told her not too long ago. She's going to find Chuck and the CIA is going to help her.

"Well, yes, we do need to keep secrets at times," Anderson replies unsure of where Sarah is taking the conversation.

"This really is a nice office," Sarah eyes the entire room reverently. "I can definitely imagine a brunette on your right side and a redhead on your left."

"I don't see where you're going with this, Agent Walker," Anderson furrows his brow.

"Oh come on," Sarah sits down on the desk as her gray pencil skirt rides up on her long silky legs as she curls them so her knees hang on the edge of the desk. Anderson's eyes dart down to her legs and she grins triumphantly. "You can't tell a man in power like yourself wouldn't take advantage of all the… perks," she runs her hands up the length of her curled left leg from her ankle to the rim of her short riding skirt.

"I think I get your meaning," Anderson grins salaciously as Sarah slides a little closer towards him so only her ankles or dangling off the desk.

"It would really be too bad if all of this was taken away from you," Sarah states overly innocent.

"And why would that happen?" Anderson lets his right hand start sneaking towards her toned thighs.

"Oh, I don't know," Sarah shrugs harmlessly. "Maybe something that happened in the past."

His hand immediately retracts halfway towards touching heaven. His entire expression closes off and becomes guarded. "What are you talking about?" Anderson demands gravely.

"We all did crazy things in college," she smirks as she fights the urge to voice out check and mate. Anderson takes on a horrified expression as he flinches back. "Like getting someone pregnant."

"How do you know?" Anderson demands in a gasp as he stands up frightfully, as if increasing the distance from Sarah will make this nightmare go away.

"I have an idea," she hops off the desk and fixes her skirt. "You give me all the resources I need to find Agent Carmichael and you'll keep your job… for the time being," she states seriously and professionally.

"Carmichael?" Anderson echoes as he tries to think up who it is. "The one who killed Graham?"

"He didn't kill Graham!" Sarah shouts fiercely, causing Anderson to nearly cower back into his seat.

"If I do this, you'll keep my past quiet?" Anderson whispers conspiratorially.

"Precisely," Sarah nods honestly. She cannot even imagine the things she can get from blackmailing Anderson, but she's no longer a con artist. She just needs Chuck back in her life.

"Fine," Anderson nods in agreement. "We have a deal," he puts his hand out to shake hers.

"Deal," Sarah shakes his hand jubilantly. "I'll call you when I need something," she walks out of his office with her head high and victorious. Anderson sighs heavily as he deflates in his chair.

December 27, 2004

Sarah is sitting on her bed with her legs crossed. She is sitting in Chuck's Stanford shirt and some plain cotton panties. She glances over to the picture she stole of Chuck and Ellie smiling at the camera. Chuck is wearing the same Stanford shirt she's wearing now. Her mind clicks and she reaches for the phone. As she hears the first ring, she ponders the idea of calling Ellie. What am I going to say? How do I explain that Chuck is still alive and wanted for murder?

"Hello?" Ellie asks for the second time as she loses patience.

"Hi," Sarah barely breathes out just above a whisper.

"Hello?" Ellie continues shortly. "May I ask who is calling?"

"It's… it's Sarah," the blonde replies softly.

"Sarah?" Ellie nearly squeals in excitement. "I haven't heard from you in so long. How are you? How is everything going? When are you coming back to Los Angeles? I miss you so much!"

"Whoa…" Sarah mumbles under her breath from the onslaught of questions Ellie asked without so much of a breath between each word. "I'm doing okay, Ellie. I need to tell you something," Sarah states gravely.

"Sarah, you can tell me anything," Ellie replies lightly.

"Ellie," Sarah cuts in with a sharp serious tone; muting the brunette instantly. "Chuck isn't dead. He's alive." Sarah hears some clattering and her eyes widen in fear that Ellie passed out. "Ellie? Ellie! Eleanor Bartowski!" Sarah shouts when she hears some ruffling through the phone.

"Sorry," Ellie embarrassingly admits, "I dropped the phone. I must've heard wrong. I thought you said—"

"Ellie, hold onto the phone tighter because you didn't hear wrong," Sarah sheepishly explains. "Chuck is still alive."

"Sarah, don't you do this to me!" Ellie retorts loudly. "I just got over losing my brother and now you feed me this garbage!"

"Ellie! I swear. Chuck is still alive. We all thought he was dead…" Sarah becomes solemn and pained, "even me," before finding her voice again. "But he's alive, but he's on the run."

"On the run? Why is he on the run?" Ellie demands worriedly. "I thought he worked for the government?"

"He does… well, he did, but he was framed for a murder her didn't commit," Sarah explains calmly.

"Oh god," Ellie gasps. "Is he in jail? Oh god, they're sending him to the execution chair. Please, Sarah," Ellie cries her eyes out, "don't let them take my baby brother from me."

"Ellie, your brother is not in prison," Sarah quickly explains. "He's on the run," Sarah repeats. "I know how important you are to him and I think he'll contact you soon."

"How?"

"By phone call or mail or email," Sarah answers honestly. "Your brother is very smart."

"Wait, why would I trust you?" Ellie suddenly becomes defensive. "You still work for the people hunting my brother."

"I'm not doing this for the government," Sarah replies truthfully. "I'm doing this for me and him. I love your brother and I need him in my life." Sarah feels herself getting choked up from just that one statement.

"You promise?" Ellie asks for reassurance as she trusts the tone of Sarah's voice and her words.

"Yes," Sarah states with conviction. "I'd do anything for your brother."

"Alright," Ellie sighs agreeably. "I know how much my brother loves you and you love him. If he calls, you'll be the first person I call. Just please keep my brother safe. Bring him back home. I miss him."

"I miss him too," Sarah confesses softly. "Thank you, Ellie. I'm going to do everything in my power to find Chuck."

December 28, 2004

Chuck fixes the baseball cap over his growing tresses as he pops off his sleeted hood and walks into the gas station. He glances at the top right of the room and notices a security camera. He quickly shies away and makes sure he doesn't give the camera a clear shot of his face. He looks through the snack aisle as he searches for some nourishment. The only money he has is what he had left from paying for the motel room and the few grand Roark carried on him. Chuck runs his left hand down his face and along the stubble growing along his cheeks and chin. He finally grabs a bag of 'Cool Ranch' Doritos and a 'Mountain Breeze' Gatorade. He then continues to the cell phones and buys three of them. He walks up to the cash register and places the items on the counter.

The salesman apathetically looks up from his 'World's Biggest Honkers' magazine. When he sees Chuck standing there, he lowers the magazine and scans Chuck's items, obliviously overlooking that his customer is buying three prepaid cellphones. "That'll be 51.96," the salesman states in a monotone as he bags the items.

"Here," Chuck hands over a fifty dollar bill and a five. The salesman opens the register and pulls out Chuck's change.

"Have a good day," the salesman hands Chuck the change and goes back to lazily reading his magazine.

"Uh… thank you," Chuck unsurely states as he gathers his items.

"Oh, and welcome to Utah," the salesman states comically. "Find yourself a wife… or six," he laughs maniacally.

Chuck ignores the salesman as he pockets the Doritos in the left side of his jacket while pocketing the Gatorade in his right side. He holds the plastic bag of cell phones in his left hand. He flips the hood of his heavy winter jacket over his hat and steps out into the wintery blizzard of Colorado in the middle of winter.

Chuck walks around the side of the gas station and opens up one of the cell phones. He flips the phone open and dials in Ellie's number by heart. He listens as it starts to ring before he ends the call. He starts hyperventilating and he cowardly powers off the phone and pockets it. Ellie still thinks I'm dead. I at least owe her to tell her I'm still alive, he berates himself. He takes a long quenching sip of his Gatorade and continues through the winter on foot.

December 28, 2004

Sarah walks into the DARPA building, looking for Orion. She doesn't even know if he knows that Chuck is still alive. She walks through the building until she arrives at the eighth floor. She walks up to the guard standing by the metal detector and ID scanner. "Identification, ma'am," the nondescript guard asks as he holds his hand out.

Sarah hands her CIA ID badge to the guard. He scans it and it makes an error beep and a red light flashes. The guard pulls out his weapon and aims it at her. "You don't have clearance to enter this floor," the guard states threateningly. "Take your ID and leave or you *will* be detained."

"Are you serious?" Sarah rolls her eyes as she slowly sticks her hand into her pocket. "I'm just getting my phone," she informs the nervous guard aiming his gun at her. Getting shot for something so foolish would be a huge blow to her ego. She pulls out her phone and dials a number. "Yes, Director Anderson, it seems that I don't have clearance for the eighth floor of DARPA. I'm looking for Orion and this guard is testing my patience."

"Orion is gone," Anderson replies. "He left last week and fell off the face of the earth."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Sarah demands angrily.

"Apparently, Beckman allowed his release and he upped and vanished within the day," Anderson informs Sarah.

"Then… Then I want you to have agents looking over security cameras of Barstow from the twenty-fifth until we find Carmichael," Sarah demands. "Once we find him, we'll follow the security cameras until we figure out his present location.

Anderson sighs as he has no real way to deny Sarah what she wants. She can ruin his career so easily. "Fine," he reluctantly agrees as he hangs up the phone.

"Thank you for your time," Sarah cheekily smiles at the guard as she swipes her ID from his hand and turns around towards the elevators.

December 29, 2004

Chuck looks up at the sign through the hailing winter storm as he reads the banner that incessantly cheerily displays 'Welcome to the Crossroads of the West.' Chuck sighs as he trudges into Salt Lake City. He misses Ellie, Devon, and Morgan immensely. He believes they still think he's dead and it is slowly eating away at his wounded mentality. But worst of all, he feels like there is a hole in his heart for what he did to Sarah. He hates himself more and more for leaving her like that. His conscious tries to argue with himself that it was the only way for her to be safe, yet he still feels like he did something wrong. If she is safe because of his actions, then why is the pain so horrifically great?

Chuck pulls out the cell phone he failed to call Ellie on multiple times. The minute he would hear her voice answer, he'd hang up in cowardice. He sighs heavily before taking a huge clearing breath. You can do this. It is just a phone call. She'll understand. Chuck tells himself over and over as he dials the familiar number. After the second ring, he hears someone answer.

"Charles," the voice states with relief and joy.

"Da… Dad?" Chuck stumbles over his words as he wasn't expecting a male voice to answer, let alone his own father.

"Son, I know everything that has happened and it isn't your fault," Stephen continues. "I intercepted your call to Ellie. Are you safe right now?"

"Wait, you know about Fulcrum and—you know I'm still alive?" Chuck sputters in shock.

"Yes, I found out not too long ago, though. Are you safe right now?"

"I guess," Chuck solemnly shrugs. "I've never been on the run before. I've never noticed how many cameras there are. It feels like they're all watching me."

"I know the feeling," Stephen reminisces with a grin. "It's just common paranoia. It happens to everyone. There's a cabin on the southernmost tip of the Great Salt Lake, just north of Tooele."

"How'd you know I was in Utah?" Chuck asks curiously.

"Please, son," Stephen acts offended, "I was able to trace a cell signal since I was eighteen."

"I thought this phone was untraceable?" Chuck questions in slight fear. "Are you telling me the government could be tracking this phone?"

"No," Stephen chuckles at his son's worrying. "Technically, no phone is completely untraceable, but don't worry, the government can't trace the phone that quickly. I used a device I created that could trace a call back in less than five seconds by bouncing it off numerous satellites back to the phone."

"Okay… so do we only have like a minute before they triangulate my position?" Chuck asks conspiratorially.

"The device also jams any possibility of them tracing this call," Stephen humorously replies. "You're safe as long as you don't use the phone again."

"Okay, I'll trash it after this call."

"Good idea, son," Stephen smiles through the phone. "The cabin I spoke of. To get to it, take Burgundy Road north out of Tooele. It'll lead to a dirt road. Follow the road until you reach the lake. Just head half a mile to the west and you'll find the cabin. It will be safe for a while and it has all the amenities you'll need. It's one of the safe houses I used when on the run. There is power and electricity so you won't freeze to death," Stephen chuckles. "I want you to hold up in there for a while. Right now, it looks like the CIA is the only ones looking for you."

"Why not the NSA?" Chuck furrows his brow. "I thought General Beckman was the one who issued the arrest warrant."

"It's because… I finished my side of the deal," Stephen regretfully confesses. "I finished the Intersect, which was originally intended for Graham. But now that Beckman has taken over the project, she has the Intersect."

"So that's why she doesn't care about me," Chuck states in awe and surprise. "She has her new Intersect and I'm obsolete to her now. Couldn't I still be considered dangerous?"

"True, your Intersect is still fully functional and holds an immense amount of data, but it is outdated. This new one I built has new information on Fulcrum and other organizations. But this new one is also more dangerous. Beckman did something to it; added something to it. I just hope she doesn't neglect the danger of it."

"But then why does the CIA want to find me if the NSA has given up?"

"I believe the NSA dumped the search on the CIA, but there are some discrepancies," Stephen admits. "But I'll find out soon. Be careful, Charles, and good luck."

"Thank you, Dad," Chuck genuinely states. Chuck ends the call and throws the phone away in the nearest trash can and sets out for the cabin his father spoke of.

December 29, 2004

Sarah is hovering over two analysts, Jack and Jill, in front of computer monitors as they search for Chuck. Jack is a thin short man with bright reddish-orange hair and a Scottish accent dulled by years in America. Jill is a short petite woman with very dark reddish-brown hair. "Ma'am," Jack speaks up, "his vehicle was located five days ago entering the Los Angeles city limits."

"Bring it up!" Sarah demands as she leans over Jack. Just the close proximity of Sarah next to him has caused a current of intimidation and arousal to course through him. He has to fight the urge not to glance to his left to see the heavenly cleavage taunting him. It would be committing an act of treason not to say Agent Walker was gorgeous, if not the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Sure, Jill is a cute petite redhead and he loves her more than anything, but Sarah Walker is on a whole new level.

"Have you found him yet?" Jack asks of Jill as he glances to his left hoping for an inconspicuous peek down Sarah's blouse, but unfortunately for him, she had already leaned back.

"No," she responds snootily, "he's very hard to find. Much like that tiny thing between your legs you call a penis." She smirks at him victoriously.

"By the high decibel of your moans last night, I don't think you were complaining," Jack shoots back boastfully.

"Guys…" Sarah gently breaks up the feuding banter between the analysts.

"Sorry," both of them mumble regretfully.

Jack fumbles over the keys until he brings up security footage of Chuck inside the silver Accord turning off the Interstate-5 freeway at 8:49am."Found him," Jack informs Sarah.

"Follow him," Sarah orders as she runs her hands through her hair.

"Yes, ma'am," Jack nods his head as he and Jill follow the security cameras over each intersection as they follow Chuck heading to Echo Park.

"Ma'am," Jill speaks up with a curious tone, "it looks like he stopped in Echo Park for an hour. But he didn't leave the car or anything. He just sat there the entire time."

"The guy wanted some alone time," Jack supplies in a quip. "Is that so bad?"

"Alright," Sarah knows that is where Ellie lives and she could just imagine the struggles Chuck went through, knowing his sister believed he was dead. "Fast forward and keep following him."

"Yes, ma'am," Jill nods and with the help of her partner, Jack, continues to follow Chuck's movements.

"I've lost him," Jack states worriedly.

"That's funny," Jill mutters with a tiny chuckle. "I remember you saying something like that when you were looking for my clitoris last night," Jill snorts.

"What do you mean you lost him?" Sarah demands with a huff as she ignores the crude banter the analysts seem to enjoy.

"I last saw him at Cesar Chavez and Hill," Jack explains quickly. "I've looked through all the cameras and can't find his car."

"Well, maybe he ditched it," Sarah suggests hopefully. "What's near there? Maybe a bus station or railway?"

"Union Station is only a few blocks away," Jill shrugs.

"That's where he has to be!" Sarah exclaims with excitement as they close in on Chuck's location. "Check all the cameras inside Union Station!"

"On it, ma'am," both of the analysts state in unison. After numerous typing and images flashing over the two monitors, Jack finds something.

"Ma'am," Jack speaks up, "I believe that's him, but it is hard to tell with the hat on."

"Zoom in on him," Sarah demands as she leans forward again. She studies the enlarged image of a tall skinny man in a baseball hat. She almost immediately recognizes his body type and posture. "That's him. Find out where he went."

Jack and Jill get to work on finding Chuck's last known location and what trains embarked within the hour. "Agent Walker," Jill explains concisely, "it looks like he boarded the Amtrak Coast Starlight towards Seattle."

"Seattle?" Sarah furrows her brow as she tries to ponder why Chuck would go to such a populated city if he was going to hide out. "What stops does it make along the way?"

"Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, San Jose, Oakland, Emeryville, Sacramento, Oregon, Eugene, and Portland," Jack answers immediately.

"I want you to search every one of those stations to see when he disembarked," Sarah orders as she sighs heavily and glances down at her watch. It is already past eleven at night and these two analysts have been nothing but sincere and helpful. It's unfair to make these two agents work this hard for her own personal mission. "Let's call it a night," she puts a friendly hand on each of their shoulders. "We'll continue the search tomorrow."

"Are you sure, Agent Walker?" Jill asks genuinely. "I'm still good for another hour."

"Not when I'm through with you," Jack snorts cheekily. Jill rolls her eyes at Jack.

"Thanks, guys, but we all need to get some sleep," Sarah sincerely suggests.

"Alright," Jack nods his head as he powers down the computer. "We'll see you tomorrow, Agent Walker."

December 29, 2004

Chuck exits the taxi and hands the Latino driver a one hundred dollar bill. "You never saw me or drove me out here, alright?" Chuck bribes the taxi driver.

"I didn't see anyone," the driver shrugs as he values money over his dignity. "I just drove down here to see the beautiful lake."

"Thanks," Chuck flashes a grin before closing the door and standing at the edge of the lake on the dirt road his father told him to take. As the taxi pulls away, Chuck gets a glimpse of the lake. The lake is gorgeous as the moon shimmers off of it. Chuck sighs sadly as he wishes he could share this moment with Sarah. He's never seen nature so beautiful at this moment, but he has no one to share it with. For the umpteenth time, he questions running away instead of fighting for his innocence. He knows it's too late now because if he did turn himself in, he'd look guilty for running in the first place.

He follows his father's directions and makes his way west into the forest for nearly half a mile when he sees a fairly luxurious sized cabin resting on the tranquil earth on the rim of the lake. Chuck is amazed by the size of the single story cabin. He honestly didn't expect much for a hideout shelter, but it is a good 2500 square feet. Chuck, with renewed vigor, marches up to the cabin and finds the door unlocked. He walks into the cabin and immediately feels the temperature drop another ten degrees as it hasn't been used in some time. He finds the light switch and turns it on.

As the room is blanketed in illumination, Chuck's eyes widen by the lavish king size bed and circular wooden dinner table surrounding by the state-of-the-art kitchen appliances so he can cook whatever his imagination could think up. He quickly finds the thermostat and gives it a nice strong spin to eighty degrees and lights a fire in the fireplace. He sighs comfortably as he sits in front of the fire as he rubs his hands together for warmth. This will be his first night of relaxation because he is finally safe.

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